#on god the plot for that shit only works because the guys in soul sucking freelance and is also a fucking weirdo
Note
Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? (2/2)
if i could find a way, i’d take back those words that have hurt you / and you'd stay...
#alright i’ll admit this one was a BIT of a stretch but#anyway that depends on what you mean#if it’s “go back in time” as in “go back to any specific point and then back to the present” then sure i guess#i’ve always maintained i’d use time travel for really dumb shit like winning past arguments#or perhaps winning past nyms... *shot*#on the other hand if it’s “go back in time” as in “literally start your life over from scratch” then FUCK no#i survived being a kid once i’m not doing that shit again#i think if anything ever happened to me in the vein of erased or tokyo revengers i would just demurely pass away#well maybe not tokyo revengers because you can go back but. like hell i would want to be in middle school again#on god the plot for that shit only works because the guys in soul sucking freelance and is also a fucking weirdo
3 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi train! you're sucking me back into your lore too (it's soooo good and i'm invested) so tell me more about your version of darla?
dkfghkls Sorry this took a bit to get to I've been in the Pit with some other stuff that kept making me forget this was in my inbox rip
LET'S TALK DARLAAAAAAAAAAA [AIR HORNS]
Darla My Beloved, My One, My Only. My changes to Darla are honestly super minimal on like, a base level. I love Julie in the role and I think she builds a truly Iconic Character.
Mainly my thing is that it's Fucking Dumb And Stupid that she dies. In one s6 btvs/ats crossover/combination fanfic I swear to the GODS I'll finish plotting and writing I use an oc to help make sure she survives the pregnancy but honestly I don't care how you do it. She Just Does.
I like to keep Connor and her pregnancy because I think it creates a really interesting and unique conflict for Darla that plays well with her utterly heartless and self-centered character. Sharing Connor's soul is the second brush she's had having with one in under a year after 400 years without one. That's super duper fun and interesting to work with. It's fun to have her be conflicted about still being a heartless bitch and maybe caring for at least 1 (one) person just on the principle that they're helpless and cannot survive without someone who cares.
I don't really like the idea of "motherhood makes her better" because that's uhhhhh.... that can be ummm....... but I think there's something to be said for "jerkoff takes some responsibility for her actions and the lives of others". At the end of the day, Darla is still a vampire and still soulless but now she's got some Complex Feelings about stuff and also things. She's more in the Spike Zone of soullessness and how to deal with it in the face of doing shit like giving a fuck about people compared to Angel's whole vibe about the topic or the Master's -- which is her previous stance.
Connor is Her Baby, he's an extension of Her which is important to the douchey narcissist in her. Even after some brushes with having a soul I don't think she'd even CONSIDER a change of heart or just an adjustment to her lifestyle for anyone who's not somehow "Hers". Darla is about Darla before she's about anyone or anything else. Connor being From Her forcibly extends her circle of Self Interest and cracks open the Padora's Box of Possibly Giving A Shit About Others.
The things she felt while she shared his soul also have a big impact on her, she does care about him and his well being. Her stance on the rest of humanity's wellbeing? Less concerned lol. She's not interested necessarily in ~becoming a better person~ but she DOES realize she has to make some change, some life choices, and get better at covering some shit up because Connor WILL look to her as a role model as he grows up and she'd like to minimize the damage she does to him lol. Also recognizes she needs to make some lifestyle changes so that she's got more than just Drusilla helping her raise and protect Connor or WORST SCENARIO IF SHE DOESN'T-- have that asshole Angel STEAL HER SON FROM HER AND DENY HER ACCESS because she's "A Psychotic Heartless Murderer" or whatever dumb shit he's wanking about now. Loser.
She's TRULY the Vegeta or the Hiei she IS the Regina George and you DO have to bribe her into helping. She's a barely domesticated villain she's only here because all these numb nut goody two shoes can't muster up the spine to say no when she asks them to babysit. She and Spike actually end up having much more familial relationship because they're both working through all this Weird Shit about being vampires with no soul who're also grappling with doing weak ass pansy nice guy shit like losers but also it's weirdly fulfilling??? tf???? Since when tf did they like kids-- and not just as dinner??? what happened here???
She's fond of Cordelia because she's Mean, they bully Angel for sport. She and Buffy probably end up with a weird chilled out vibe eventually as two very sexy narrative foils of each other. Shadow selves Baybee. Darla and Anya would be ride or die let's just be real about that they're both unhinged. Illyria is the only person Darla is afraid of lol. Darla and Angel have the most CURSED on and off again sex relationship that torments everyone around them.
Basically Darla is the Cassandra Truth in a lot of ways for ATS. She's the Greek Chorus pointing out all the flaws and issues with Angel's dumbass plans and how X is a trap and OBVIOUSLY So-And-So is upset you ninny. She doesn't listen any of them she's the oldest person in the room she's not taking orders from CHILDREN. Angel is 100000x more competent with her around, it's almost like she was always the brains of the operation lol. Basically she and Drusilla are the muppet critics who're also raising a baby and sometimes help fight crime but only because if they don't they'll have to pay rent.
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dangerous Romance Ep 5
When last we watched, Sailom failed to tutor Kang into passing all of his classes and so he was fired. Everyone was very sad and acted like one of them had gone away to war and they would never be able to speak again rather than, you know, just talking to each other.
Sailom dabbled in escorting and the top of Kang's head almost came off, Pim saved the day but Kang couldn't have that, o no, so he got Best Grandma to rehire Sailom and BG, seeing the writing on the wall (or the crush all over her grandson's face, more like), decided that the only way that Sailom could efficiently tutor Kang was to move in. Let the cohabitation hijinks commence!
Kang, acting like it matters: Why does Sailom have to live here?
Pfft literally no one buys this act you're badly putting on.
Oh my god look at these weirdos. You know I have never flung myself on a bed that way before. Usually when I'm exhausted or a bed is super comfy I just throw myself on it face first, lol.
I love that Kang is a clothes horse.
Also we're about to see some spoiled brat again, looks like. Good.
And Dad appears to tell Sailom not to push Kang.
Oop Sailom is in the bathroom Kang's about to show up. Because he already said that Sailom's bathroom time will is going to be both of their bathroom times.
LOL guess Kang meant he planned to shower in front of Sailom rather than the reverse. Bet he still manages to show up during that time.
Kang you are fooling no one playing naked chicken. What in the Ayan shit is this?
With how fast this drama is moving through the progression of this relationship, I expect these two will be sharing a bed by the end of the episode. Mark my words!
This feels very Never Let Me Go. Except in this case there's no daddy "nope my son will take the bus lest he get the idea that he's on your level" to ruin things.
Oh I love Pim. She's such a sweetie.
Aw that awkward moment when you remember high school politics. I mean there are other factors as well but that felt very high school to me.
JUNE. HI. Oh I guess there will not be a GL in this one then huh. Since they probably won't do student/teacher.
Oh no. This would be the worst. I don't know how it is in Thailand but I know people in my highschool used to be really awful to some of the teachers. Some real bully shit.
Perth's hair is so nice.
Pfft did I read somewhere that in Thailand acting is the purview of rich kids unless you want to work two jobs or was that a fever dream? How meta.
Hahaha oh here we go. Except I forgot that Sailom is a little punk. I love him so much, guys. I do.
Oh no is Sailom trying to look good for Kang or for Pim?
My best is Kang. I think Sailom is well aware he has a crush. Kang maybe not so much.
Yeah it's totally for Kang. Oh, honey.
Kang babe I am sorry but Pim just isn't that into you. I could be wrong I guess but View is definitely not playing it like she is.
I would totally hold the lizard. I love reptiles.
Aw now he's all embarrassed.
Am I sensing a return to the escorting to help pay for college plot? Because I still want more of that.
And yes, I agree with Miss Napdao. Although I get why Sailom might feel that he has to continue his tutoring efforts, but I will say that if it's mostly about wanting to be around Kang Sailom should rethink. I am a firm believer in never putting your plans aside because of romantic feelings. Work for yourself first because nine times out of ten, you're the only one who will.
Thank you for coming to my TED talk. I have no romance in my soul.
I love the ominous music that goes with these two. Like they aren't flirting.
I love the seniors. "Look you two can fight after sports day alright? Just suck it up for now you little shits."
Is that not how it went?
Oh man Sailom's practical reason for choosing Engineering hits a little too close to home.
Uh, Kang. What if he can't actually sing? Just because it was a dream doesn't mean he can actually do the thing, you know. Did we learn nothing from the lizard poop incident.
Also why. In every Thai drama. Why. WHY.
...well at least they didn't make us listen to them sing the entire song raw. Could have been worse. Could have been Sand no I'm not sorry.
Kang. I'm sorry but Pim is 1000% not into you.
SAILOM? Really???
Really? Show. Show. What are you doing. Although I guess it would be a good way to smack some sense into Kang regarding his own feelings - my guess is at some point he's gonna realize he's less upset about Pim liking Sailom than he is about Pim liking Sailom. Hopefully he acts like a complete moron about it because that's fun for me.
Lol okay I have to admit I like these little ads. They're more fun than the usual.
Next week: Sailom's little broken hearted self withdraws. Good for you dude that's what I'd do to. It'll only last five minutes but you know. At least you're not being set up to continuously return to a dude that keeps hurting you, unknowingly or not. Sand.
Yes I'm going to be mad about that forever.
Cute ep, and I promised myself that I would turn my brain off about the easy forgiving of the bullying, so once I did that I enjoyed myself much much more. I'm still hoping that the show actually plans to delve into the more serious topics it keeps flirting with, but even if it doesn't I'm not having a bad time. I do think that Perth and Chimon could handle more, though. Why cast two such strong actors if you're just going to give them work anyone could do?
1 note
·
View note
Text
i’ve read two novels tonight it’s 3:31 am as i’m typing this if there’s a higher power fucking with us and running things down here i am staring at you and giving you the middle finger. i will become immortal using mcdonald’s preservatives and start slowly destroying the universe in seemingly innocent, harmless ways until everything we know is no longer recognizable and you will be left wondering how you lost control and the answer is ME BITCH. then i’ll make you into a giant egg eternals style and force you to die and recreate the universe but better because unlike you i don’t make the dominant species in a small pocket of my universe fucking ruin lives for shits and giggles. if there’s multiple people involved in running this shitshow i’ll do it chain reaction style everyone has to explode at the right time in order to make the new universe. and magic will be real and there will be a lot more good shit in the universe like FOOD. omigod food is so awesome. and the food won’t affect anyone’s health negatively which would be like. so sick. all of this will happen in a riverdale style plot where everything becomes more and more non sensical over time and you slowly go insane from the sheer weirdness of what is happening until you’re more insane than that guy in the mind electric. big mood honestly man sometimes you just need to sail out to your death that’s respectable goals. less respectable that you did this for your girlfriend but whatever romance is fine. kind of overused plot line whoever is writing this universe sucks at writing. change it up a little bit why aren’t enough people making musical masterpieces about that star trek shit huh. make a goddamn musical masterpiece album about those star trek concepts and then we have something new. or maybe here’s a better idea since there so much lovey dovey shit in there let there be music and let the music have GAY SEX where they are FUCKING RAW. as a certified singer bastard that’s a amazing concept. all these allo sexual folks describing the sex sounds and i have no idea what the fuck they are but if you have them MAKE SOMETHING WITH THE SEX SOUNDS. like y’all got so much to work with and no one is doing it it’s fascinating. take that first step. it only takes one person to start a trend of interesting shit. see there’s things like this in life now we gotta add some fucking horrors too but not the dull soul-sucking horror we have here with the government and capitalism and everyone wanting someone dead. PEACE AND LOVE MY DUDES. except for cops go fuck yourselves. see the universe writers had some interesting shit with my childhood where i hallucinated for a year when i was 7 we need more of that energy. not enough people these days lose their minds over non world ending shit we don’t need another disaster. actually while i’m at it WHAT THE FUCK IS THE GOP DOING?? some people really just turn off their brains and hear the most dogshit insane lies and parrot those statements word for word. sweetheart no that’s not the way go take some benadryl see the hat man expand your worldview and realize that not everything is about what is happening with our local stupid white karen assholes THEY DO NOT CARE ABOUT YOU. honestly i’m pretty sure i got drunk off our vanilla extract i chugged a bunch of that shit. for fucks sake i mean it’s vanilla it should not taste spicy when i chug it. does vanilla minecraft mean nothing to you bastards?? hey another thing universe writers ever try fucking. MAKING NICE PARENTS. should not be up to half of my friends are on cps watch. i’d like to suggest some more of that peace and love 70s hippie energy. you wrote the goddamn protests live that truth. smoke weed and live a healthy stable life. now i understand perhaps you’ve been dropped as a child. or child abandonment. or parental murder. honestly all of those seem pretty common for god backstories so WE COMMIT TO THE BIT. however, consider talking your shit out. i’ve heard yoga does wonders. or a nice cup of tea. anyways peace out commit crimes be queer and disgusting about it feel the whimsy.
#some people have to worry about ‘wah wah people are watching me’#GO STUPID GO CRAZY YOU BASTARDS#the world as we know it will probably end soon and none of this will mean anything in thousands of years#might as well be nice and stop hiding things and hold on to the good things in life#because anyways the universe writers are clearly giving up. i’ve seen burnt out writing that is literally our canon timeline#this is not some third eye shit but i don’t think the vanilla extract high will end so i will make other people suffer through it#PEACE OUT HOES I DONT REMEMBER ANYTHING IVE TYPES I HAVE A MIGRAINE AND ANY GOD THAT WAS ALIVE IS DEAD#IM JUST THAT AWESOME THE ANXIETY AND MENTAL ILLNESS WONT HIT TONIGHT MY DUDES#IM REMEMBERING HOW I USED TO BE BEFORE I GREW UP LIFE CAN BE GOOD#TIME TO READ ANOTHER NOVEL ABOUT SOME GAY BITCHES TILL I PASS OUT FROM THE MIGRAINE PAIN I LOVE YOU ALL
1 note
·
View note
Text
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.
#networkbangtan#bangtanhq#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook smut#jeon jungkook x reader#jungkook fic#jjk smut#jeon jungkook fic#jeon jungkook x reader smut#bts jungkook#bts fic#bts smut#mine
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
recs on recs on recs
Yaoi/Manga I’m reading/have read. Please support the artists on official websites. If you have recs or want to chat about any of these get in my messages right the fuck now my dudes. Also spoilers, also this probably doesn’t make sense to anyone but me, also I think I’m funny sorry in advance.
Dangerous Convenience Store
Tags: Ongoing, self aware lead for the most part, gangs, smut, love triangle, possessive, not rapey, seme is like the fucking hulk compared to uke, college, age gap, good art, muscular bodies, seme is adorable/romantic in sp chapters, sexual awakening, meeting the gang (in two ways!), FAINTS OF CUTENESS/HOTNESS, the memes after every chapter got me gagged, HAHE hahahahahahahahahaha, OMG DO I GET SOME CNC?! (update: short lived), we stan a vocal man (Ahjussi), thigh fucking, my mans be like my thighs hurt fuck my ass instead DECEASED, ass smacking, these memes are so good god damnit, rimming
8/10, I live for Ahjussi (Am I spelling this wrong..)
The New Employee
-love love love
Tags: ongoing, we stan supportive boyfriends, healthy relationship, boss/employee, smut, office setting, good art, 10/10 will re-read, muscular bodies
Love Shuttle
Tags: completed, ABO, enemies to lovers, possessive, coworkers, fake relationship, strong omega, the art sucks but I like the story, art gets better after the 1st season, alphas eyes change colors when happy/anxious, muscular bodies, 7/10, update 10/10 art is meh but fml this storyline is basic af in the best way and it’s the fluff/smut I need, when you’re caught by the folks *cringe*
Hold Me Tight
Tags: ongoing, boss/employee, bodyguard, gio can’t feel heat until felix comes along, uke is strong af, horny bastards, smut, possessive, tragic childhood, moving in together right away, rich seme, felix in a bunny costume though *heart eyes*, dialogue is great, rape in a technical sense but the vibe is written like both characters are all good after? Ex. hospital scene…dub con, ART IS GREAT, hand holding during sex, 10/10 will re-read, muscular bodies
Yours to Claim
Tags: ongoing, love triangle, Dom/sub dynamics, smut, main is big switch energy, reincarnation, jealousy, manipulative, possessive, self aware lead for the most part, toxic af, GREAT ART, college, rich semes, 10/10 will re-read and not even finished, SONOFABITCH that cliff hanger!! Season 3 come thruuuu (I have to wait until November? *cries* BUT MAH LOVE TRIANGLE!!, I want a THROUPLE GOD DAMN IT
The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation
Tags: obsessed with this story, will the incense burner scenes make it?? No tags because I'll never forget this one haha wangxian 5ever, send me all fanfics/fan art you have about this story, love Dark Wangji, Jadecest, ABO/omegaverse, Bottom Wangji/Top Wei Ying, and honestly anything regarding this fandom
Bj Alex
Tags: completed, great art, 11/10 will re-read, cam boy, fanboy, seme is an asshole, uke is so sexy, jealously, rich seme, enemies to lovers kind of?, CHANWOO IS MY BOY FOR LIFE, Chanwoo MD supremacy, BDSM (like really really), fuck I love Chanwoo, college students, rich seme, emotional rollercoaster, uke soft body, mean seme, college life, that one nosy bitch ass guy trying to expose my boys needs to fuck right off, seme split/fake personality, dub con
Anti PT
Tags: ongoing, 11/10 re-readable, porn with feelings, love triangle, jealousy, attempted non-con, personal training wink wink, main love interest is actually the best, second male lead is a god damn creep, first time, smut, great art, sex addict/constantly horny uke, I WANT A HWI,
Related: https://www.anime-planet.com/manga/anti-pt/recommendations
Payback
Tags: ongoing, both are psychopaths tbh, revenge, gangs, uke sells himself to seme, violent seme, entertainment industry, brunette supremacy, what this motherfucker gonna do? hehe , great art, muscular bodies, dead dove do not eat, my mans must be GOOD looking/animal magnetism cause everyone losing their fucking minds, okay this is a comedy I’m dying, he tried to scare him with wanting to be a top but my psycho said REVERSEUNO BITCH I’M A VERSE (wait jk apparently *sigh*), anonymous masked sex (sad n’ kinky)
My Suha
Tags: ongoing, wow this gets dark, possessive af like holy shit, terrible people all around uke, rape, boss/employee, office politics/family politics, smut, characters that are punchable, dead dove do not eat, *velociraptor noises*, avoided this for a while but I’m back because nothing can be more emotionally devastating than Banana Fish, TIE HIM UP, FUCK HIS FACE ALKSJD:ASKD, FUCK SUHA UR SO HOT that dirty talk though YAS, glad I picked this back up lmao, GOD DAMN IT just when the package arrived then this red head fucker *screams*
Shame Application aka Dirty Vibration
Tags: completed, friends to lovers, model seme, cute af uke, love triangle, entertainment industry, smut, kink, all kinds of sex everywhere, realized feelings, mutual pining, jealousy, rich seme, blonde seme, big brother 1984 always watching, 10/10 would re-read, porn with plot, they were roommates!, ~straight~ seme, first times, great art, remembering some cringe but considering the story it’s par for the course
Will You Subscribe
Tags: ongoing, season 1 completed, enemies to lovers, cam boy, office politics, boss/employee, hiding a secret, public sex, stalkers/creepy men, emotionally stunted characters, mutual pining, idiots in lust, lingerie company, slut shaming, jealousy/possessiveness, season 2 bebeh, HOLDING HANDS *velociraptor noises*, LMAO okay my mans is not THAT old how tf does he not know netflix and chill, BUNNY COSTUME (quickly becoming my new fav trope in manga, A+ gang), oh we stan a good boy, wtf is wrong with wanting to do cam work, ‘I wish my marks could become permanent’ *omegaverse wink*, *works for lingerie company* *doesn’t understand where bf gets sexy costumes* like wut kind of fuckery…, cross dressing ftw, roleplay, classic BL miscommunication trope
Hyperventilation
Tags: completed, high school crush, unrequited love, mutual pining, smut, quickie (short story), class reunion, apparently furry with the extra chapter turning my man into a bunny but c'est la vie! https://myreadingmanga.info/korean-bl-animation-hyperventilation-engsub/ this is the animation of the same story, different endings but same in tone (this site is spammy AF but the English subs are so hard to find for this) 8/10
Unmei no tsugai ga omae da nante
Tags: only one bed, ABO, office setting. Coworkers, enemies to lovers, competitive, equality in the omegaverse, dubcon, real dicks and not lightsabers, fated pair, art is cute af 8/10
K’s Secret
Tags: buckle up buttercup, dead dove do not eat, angst, pining, somnophilia, dub con, non con, boss/employee, manipulative, stalking, forced relationship, tragic childhood background, weird art but gets better, uke: don’t threaten me with a good time but seriously stop threatening me, possessive & obsessive, seme is like the fucking hulk compared to uke, wow were going full psycho stalker hm?, dating a narcissist is all fun and (mind)games, con non con… ? honestly who tf knows, domestic!, OW MY HEART, the t/n WAP note sent me, ch 51 translated by gen z, do special ep= furry? Wait there’s a maid costume, bunny costume, directors friends keeping it real, rough translations 8/10
Enthusiasm
Tags: ongoing, dead dove do not eat, uke buys seme, masc boys, muscular bodies, fight club, master/slave, rich uke, revenge, real dicks not lightsabers, rough sex, cuckholding, daddy issues, suicide, wow the end of ch 5 punched a hole in my heart, penile implant life, rough translations makes the storyline wonky, nvm back to lightsabers *star wars noises*, HAD ME FEELING SOME TYPE OF WAY I CAN NOT, shibari, possessive, wait this is cute *velociraptor noises*, angst, no kithes for you “bestie”, OBSESSED, honestly choke him pupper, STAY THE NIGHT ALKSDJA:SLDKJAS:LKDJA:SLDKj, problematic but I’m riding for these two,
Ichimai Goshi Fetish
Tags: completed, short, fetishes DO start in childhood don’t they *ruminates*, author: describes ML as a beautiful 2D character meanwhile: ML IS 2D character, fellas is it gay to kiss the homies?, “real dudes don’t interest me” is a MOOD, comedy, jealousy, college setting, dialogue is A+, not lightsabers but not dicks either, first time, when you’re fucked so good you think you’ve died, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R4uEq5Nx6ko, hero/villain roleplay. Fluff n smut 10/10
My Purrfect Boss
Tags: completed, tooth rotting fluff because blondie is so FUCKING cute little sensitive soul, golden retriever boyfriend, pure comedy, DECEASED, MY MAN JUST DID THE SLOW BLINK, office setting, boss/employee, ~wasted~ (red dead redemption meme), FFS SO CUTE, he put a ring on it right away beyonce would be proud af, he protecc he attack but most importantly he hit it from the back, jealousy, honeymoon phase of dating, the ex is a snake (update: oh wow literally), I’m picking up abuse/PTSD vibes based on how Kang reacts to his ex :(, classic BL miscommunication plot, immediately no meme audio (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o6XWSGfYnps) , I WILL STRAIGHT UP MURDER CHA WTF!!!!!!, gang rape, spiked with drugs that force heat, me rn:*screaming/rage*, psychotic ex/abuser, HE PROTECCC, actual relief after that scene jesus fuck, okay YES kings I see you, okay this is giving me cuteness aggression, hi yes I’d like to adopt a cat and a dog please 9/10
Following Namsoo to the Bathhouse
Tags: completed, same author as, “My Purrfect Boss”, A+ comedy once again, JUNIOR, gay awakening, “fap myself to death” DEAD, facial expressions are ridic, my minds telling me no but my body, my bodyyyy’s telling me yaaaaa, ya boy is literally losing his mind over this, actual lightsabers lmao, FLUFF, permasmile, 6969, THINKS THEY’RE GOING TO EAT RAMEN, dense gay, own your skin wtf okay hannibal calm down, everyone is officially cray, ah I also am barfy when drunk, denial really is something hm, classic BL miscommunication plot, when people pleasing too far, happy ending 🥺🥰, side story: our crazy gets his very own crazy (ashton Kutcher from spread vibes), public sex, sex sparkle 9/10
Alien in my Closet
Tags: ongoing (maybe completed but def ongoing on the site I use), not rapey at all?? You’d think it’s impossible in this medium ffs, anti pt vibes, cute art, fluff ‘n smut, red head!!, they were roomates!, sex toys, bsdm, D/s (brat)dynamic or maybe owner/pet, bondage, *tiffany hadish voice* this is noiceeee, con humiliation/degradtion, SANTA CLAUS, edging, marking, one lotus please (he’s clearly read the 4 agreements and karma sutra), con non con, exhibitionism, the wrist thing stays on people, Katoptronophilia, roleplay, is it stalking when you bring your friends?, lotus: welcome home cheater, the chin on the head thing gives me cuteness aggression, the twins are my favs, when ur crush vanilla af 😭, haesung: experiment on me daddy, no dick until halfway through/fingering supremacy, bedroom sessions has me gagged, voyeurism, wait they haven’t kissed this whole time I forgot (audio: https://www.tiktok.com/@ryley/video/6976701880277748997?lang=en), sunbae is sus, YES FINALLY A FUCKING SWITCH COUPLE AKJSDHALKSJDHASKLJDHALS KJDALKSJD (update: sort of), there’s a missed opportunity for an anal probe joke, damn it okay maybe sunbae is chill, 3 musketeers, my heart*implodes*, *velociraptor noises*, 12/10 would re-read such fluff my heart
On Doorstep
Tags: completed, age gap, reese has ptsd, jimmy going from 0 to 100, jimmy really got down on his knees at work, ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) deepest part you say, real dicks, ride him like a rodeo, quickie/short story, porn with plot
Gorani Jeon
Tags: ongoing, omegaverse, no alpha though, animal hybrid, art is beautiful like it's drawn on paper not a screen, 40 inch weave yours came in a pack, historical (non-modern), lord send me a sexy man pls, the memes after each chapter are golden, taking the phrase licking wounds literally, is that an eggplant or are you just happy to see me hehe, ahhh so inhibitors do exist here, vertical 69, here lays Bau fucked to death by Ran, WHY HE TOUCHING MY MAN, these chickens are dope, stomp on his dick, that’s what I call a happy meal, fucked right out the front door I’M DEAD, mpreg, i need a tiger+mountain god spin off (whoops dad/son my bad), slice of life, cute fluff 8/10
Room to room
Tags: completed, college setting, A+ dialogue, absurd size difference, unrequited love, sexsomina, dubcon, angst, death by a thousand cuts emotionally, insecurity, body envy, pining, friends to lovers, they were roommates!, homophobia, sexual assault, PTSD, gays in denial, the tattoo 🥺 ow my heart, truly this is 90% smut, “going from unrequited love to fwbs is shittier than I expected”, dowan *bad blood by t swift* when he sees garam, ch 22garam reminds me of my ex and that’s not a compliment, I’m not gay but my boyfriend is vibes, triflers need not apply, spanking, 😭😭😭😭😭 my heart hurts, is anyone getting a bit of a puppy play vibe? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vni9ZWmDXis, handcuffs, lots of head we stan, dowan’s gotta a touch of a foot thing or maybe body worship thing, asdlfgkjs ;dlkfgjsd;flkgj;sdflkgj;sdlfgjs;d/gkdf SO CUTEEEEEEEEEEE, roleplay. They broke the bed no use of crying over spilled milk ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), side stories delivering man in uniform and sex toys AND puppy, asdlkjaslfkasdjfl;askdfjasdf the shirt thing is so hot, watersports, I take it back this is 98% smut 9/10
Mistake Lover
Tags: completed, when ur bff is back on their BS, love triangle, coworkers, i swear all these ukes look the same to me at this point (which is very cute), GE!!!! (wangxian flashbacks), wait no smut?.... Paused
Yagi to ookami no hatsujou jijou
Tags: completed, quickie/short story, literally on my reading list because a comment said “nice cock 10/10”hahahaha, animal hybrids, scifi/aliens, me during chapter one: am I a furry? No. Am I? Relevant audio https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=noJNIqvDfoo, hotties when human GOD DAMN, bi king, okay I stan this girl changing gears take your opportunities honey!, does blondie have a tinder or how is this happening? (update: called it), feminization, dubcon/noncon, marking, heats, idk about 10/10 cock but not lightsabers, translation is ruff (get it?), a yankee hahaha, literal wound licking, googles chimera, *claps* yes king selfish call his ass out, tail holding caaaayoooot, not that isn’t usually copious amounts of cum but really this is a lot 8/10
Make Me Bark
Tags: completed, $250 a month rent?? *cries in Californian*, god damn it these grey haired 2D men are really hot fml, “next months rent is a looming concern but I hope it’ll get better” followed by apartment on fire is how I feel about reality, rare characters that smile way more than they frown, sex toys, kink, puppy play, owner/pet dynamic, sugar daddy/baby, college setting, harness, muzzle, leash, tail plug, shirt thing!!, soaked briefs, playing barbie IRL, omg meet cute at the adult store, intercrural sex, possessive/jealousy, ah fuck yes I saw this panel on IG but it didn’t have the source but now hehe, whipping, choking, spanking, *bookmarks*, simp city, childhood friends, side couple cute af, yeonsoo: sorry I’m an anti romantic, size queen, mens lingerie, domestic, mutual pining, these bestie pairings are *chefs kiss*, skinny but muscular bodies/no ridiculous size differences, “does he have a big dick?” “probably” “well tell him to come” GAGGED AJKSDHALSKDJHA this dialogue pure comedy, exhibitionism, human auction, maid costume, men in heels, topping in a dress, girl at the bus stop HAHAHA, ffs this is so cute, side stories: it’s a small world afterall, dynamic role reversal, pink haired boy is guru, SCREAMING AKDJA:SLDKJA:LKDJA:LSDKJLAKDJA:LDJAL:SKDJASLKDJA:SLKDJLAKSDJLASDJ:LASJD:ALSKDJASL:DJ:ASLJDPUTARINGONIT!!!! 11/10
Gurume no fukurami
Tags: completed, quickie/short story, food fetish, feeding fetish, age gap, throuple-eqsue? There’s 3 people involved, paused ch 1 pg 30
Under the Green Light
Tags: ongoing, thank you IG for rec’ing this, brunette supremacy, neurodivergent?, lmao @hag, this statue is everything I wonder if it’s based on a real piece?, we went from talking art to being pinned to the ground REAL quick, translations rough but not as rough as my mans here, draw me like one of your french girls vibe, sass master, these dicks are ridiculously huge which is saying something for this genre, i love a verse/switch, “first time he’s asked someone to stop so his self-esteem is hurt” HAHAHAHA, stealing bae’s shirt, facials galore, car sex/public sex, jin not into praise kink clearly, sort of slut shaming jealousy, marking
Walk on Water
Tags: completed, for being about porn it’s not that smutty (i take it back), “don’t even think about running away” got me like https://giphy.com/gifs/VABbCpX94WCfS, actual dicks (lightsabers later must be the cleaners not the OG), muscular bodies, blonde seme, brunette uke, k mcqueen is everything, honestly haven’t loved a couple this much since chanwoo x MD and I LOVE THEM, jealousy, orgasm denial, the angles/frames of the art in this are insane (11/10), emotional intimacy CUTENESS HASIHDLASKDHJLAKSJDH, i wanna lick lick lick you from your head to your toes, dirty talk A+, bestie you turned out to be Judas you judgy fuck how dare you touch my man, Ryan is 50 shades of fucked up bb needs therapy, Chang and yeowoons sexual tension is *chefs kiss*, I ship it/all my ships sailing, woof non con but expected tbh, YEAH BABY YEAH *Austin powers voice*, fml I don’t want this story to end, meeting the Hets ™ would make me nervous too, spiderman kith, mirror sex sjkadfhasldjkfh, 34+35, JOI but with a partner? Not D/s, promises are made to broken hehe, that feeling when you understand the title, omg the fan art is so cool!! 15/10 would re-read seriously I can’t explain how well the artist used angles/how she portrayed the scenes was fucking MASTERFUL
Woof Wolf
Tags: that's my best friend (saweetie), red heads, werewolf au, college setting, students, shoot a shot in your mouth while I'm riding, facials, marking
Sexual Awakening of an Ex Delinquent
Tags: completed, quickie/short story, sexual coercion/non con/dub con, tiddies, bondage, nipple play, edging/orgasm denial, candy in ass wow, food kink, kink in general, rich seme working class uke, lightsabers, big dick Jesus fuck, exhibitionism, public sex, men's lingerie, Blondie is a sweet baby angel, self hatred/homophobia, sexual narrating that has me like oof 😣 that's not how this works but okay, the sweet spots thing is a great line, man is a slave to the sweets, lmao at the meme at the end of ch 9 fucking facts, kidnapping plot, rapey guys all around this story, tattoo/back story reveal has me like *nods head yes*, my throats broken has me gagged, crazy amount of sfx noises that distract from the art (I really appreciate cleaners I realize), first times, rushed ending feels, would rate 6/10 not terrible but probably won't read again.
With Your Tail Yes
Tags: ongoing, IG rec, quickie/short story, on man brunette looks EXACTLY like a different character by another artist like for real duplicate, home boy pulled Elle Wood’s Bend n Snap and we are HERE FOR IT, lingerie/cross dressing, okay compilation of short stories, great artwork but wtf these are far too short (maybe uploaded wrong..?), *immediately makes deal with the devil because yum*, ah okay previews THEN stories, human animal hybrid situation, lightsabers, fucking imagine your crush delivery the sex toy you ordered online HAHA *dies*, buys toys because men ain’t shit is a VIBE, you know he’s always wearing matching sets because he’s 100% that bitch, dub con/non con, knotting (unexpected), exhibitionism, public sex, good ol’ fashion blackmail to get your lover to stay with you trope, sexual assault/attempted rape, victim blaming, shibari, leashes, D/brat dynamic sort of, copious amounts of cum, lube? What lube?, marathon sex, first time, 75 hours?? Immediately no meme, 7/10 mostly for art/concepts but not execution
Heat and Run
Tags: ongoing, IG rec, omegaverse, friends to enemies to lovers, multiple couples as main to sides then sides to mains, my heart dropped because I thought the first sex scene was incest but then realized I’m mixing up all the characters derp, dense gays, this is america (the shooting comment WOOF reality feels bad man), blondes have more fun, real dicks, dubcon/CNC dealers choice, mutual pining, idiots in love, big alpha energy BDE, there are moments I feel Hayoung on a spiritual level and not sure that’s a compliment hahaha, orgasm denial/edging, istg if he bonded without Hayoung permission *jenna marbles BOIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII YOU BETTAH NOT*, also I was hoping the idol was him but realizing it’s probs his sis, *deep sigh*, BDIRL, wow racism, oh no oh no no no no no meme audio, listen everyone needs to get into therapy to break that generational trauma is all I’m saying (not excusing abuse at all, trauma isn’t a free pass), NO ONE WANTS TO PLAY A GAME WITHOUT KNOWING THE RULES :ALKSDHJALKSDJA:SLKDJTRUE, matthew singing bo burnham: I’m problematic *background singers ‘he’s a problem!’*, i ship it yolo, JAEHO STAN (no means no!), mpreg, god damn it I am so worried about him getting roofie and the party scene hasn’t even started ABO WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TOO ME, OH THANK JAEHO, dayummmm that clapback was real fuck him UP, me clapping: MARK HIM MARK HIM, GOD DAMN IT WITH THESE ONGOING FUCKING CLIFF HANGERS FML, marked via knotting? Okay that’s new, but also like normal marking I think, fucking til bottom pees trope
Heaven Officials Blessing
Animated series season 1 complete. Live action currently filming (same director as Untamed too UGH SO HAPPY)
Tags: ongoing, same author as my fav ever MDZS, just finished season 1 animated on netflix and can no longer avoid this because I LOVE THEM, all the memes on IG make sense now, Prince voice: Dearly Beloved (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aXJhDltzYVQ) we are gathered here today to dive deeper into a fandom I will never escape, ART IS AMAZING (https://tenor.com/view/incredible-talented-lady-brilliant-gaga-gif-14857187), group chats are always chaotic tbh, wait a minute meme audio: bride = bottom? How tf did I not get that the first time round *sigh* always hoping for a verse couple, the asst. Boys I ship hard, the sass, fuck this is going to just be pure angst isn’t it *straps in, has fluffy manga queued*, even if no smut 11/10 gege porn, not subtle, god FUCK this ART IS SO FUCKING GOOD THE TALENT skjas;ldkfja;, 🥺, traumatic cliff moment *mdzs flashbacks*, HC smirk is my new favorite thing, no fucking but lots of touching, size difference, horror, gore, wuxia, great side characters, my ear feels tingly too lmao, SOMEONE BETTER GET THESE MF SNAKES ON THIS MF PLANE (cliff), umbrella moments got me uwu, gimme at least didi pleaseandthankyou, FUCK I LOVE THIS ARTIST she keeping us WELL fed with these extras DAYUM, wind/earth master ship please sail, CALL ME DADDY IM DEAD, HC has LWJ energy like you are not qualified to talk to me LOL, WAIT this totally counts as there was only one bed trope, also I’m already excited about omegaverse ff (send me recs please please please)
4 week lovers
Tags: ongoing because apparently I want to torture myself, mutual pining/”unrequited love”, college life, friends to lovers, blackmail ur crush into sex trope, public sex, I was going to tag possessive body language but possessive in a general sense apparently (starting strong yessss), sure jan @unrequited love dialogue, THEY WERE ROOMMATES *cackles*, sus haha, rough translation, pure comedy, shirt thing!, casual abuse :( (back story, traumatic childhood), I’m getting TharnType vibes (but not quite…), that note is precious, cry during/after sex, great angles, dialogue A+
Burlesque Night
Tags: completed, quickie/short story, stripper/body guard, coworkers, lust at first sight, magic mike vibes, fridays = getting fucked on stage O-O, well that was traumatizing af, took a bullet, real dicks, LDR, CUTE, I’m not in love with you… sure jan, OH WOW MASTER dlksaj;alsdkja;lsdkja;sld, gay awakening/first time, the art detail is *chefs kiss*, disappointed but not surprised :( :( :(, we stan a yes and lover, shirt thing, still not sure wtf the vertical anus thing is but full circle moment haha, you know what fuck it I’d re-read this 9/10
My one and only cat
Tags: ongoing, cat hybrids, god damn it I’m totally in furrydom ffs, ah well here we go, idol hot = loneliness wahhh /s, so hot he literally transforms other beings, omg a cat cafe CUTE, fuck that cat is cute *so fluffy*, stalker status, comedy, real dicks, I think the uncle would be supportive/jealous even I hope they talk about it I’m dying to know his thoughts, big tiddies, if this ain’t the cutest shit FLUFF/SMUT, copious amounts of cum, ate it with the panties on, CAKE, xmas, his milkshakes bring all the boy(cats) to the yard, trifling bitch
Imitation Mate
Tags: completed, omegaverse, alpha x alpha. Class rivals YAS, childhood frans, enemies to lovers omg this is all the shit I want, manipulation 1000 but yolo I ship it
Mr. 100% Perfect
Tags: ongoing, so relatable, OCD?, hoarder, when I read the title I thought mental illness and I was right, masks ugh RELATABLE, getting back together w ex, woof sibling drama/manipulation, suicide attempt, omg their communication regarding the psycho is REFRESHING, OMG JEJU ISLAND I see it in every fucking kdrama ever but this is the first time I’ve seen it mentioned in a manga *hm* interesting, furry furry everywhere, eye contact, finished reading season 1 pause for an omergaverse cause, okay I’m back and season 2 starting STRONG #1 men are gross #2 mans just went right to a blowie while mf was trying to pee lmao i can NOT the germs barf, fuckboi extraordinaire stressing over a textback is *great*, that istg face is perfect, HYUNGGGG, hand on his heart OW MY HEART, vibe check LOL, here for this plot dev, END OF SEASON2 NOOOOOOOimnotready. Head bonks CUTE
The origin of species
Tags: ongoing, omegaverse, sex tape, blackmail, i already don’t like this teacher, size difference, ‘JUST DIE’ hahahahahaha, I’m in love with noona, wait Ahjussi means uncle/mister? Dangerous convenience store has a new meaning to me now, DECEASED @they won’t, copious amounts of cum, alcohol to have intimacy *sighs in early 20s*, also WTF THEY ARE FUCKING AND THERE’S NO PHERMONE STUFF! What’s the point of being ABO without smell *swaggy p meme???*, wait okay ch 11 it begins, stockholm syndrome but since childhood I’m fairly certain *looking at you teacher I don’t trust these mfs*, dubcon obviously, also the can’t be knotted thing has me *cardi b meme that’s weird that’s sus* obvs poor bb about to get preg af, five word horror story: I won’t hurt you again *why tf you lyinggggg why u always lyinggg meme*, white collar crime, what’s the point of a contract when there’s no actual choice
How to Chase an Alpha
Tags: ongoing, lowkey been avoiding this one not because I think it’ll be bad I just..idk the brain is a weird thing, page 2 and I love mains attitude fucking gagged sass me bb, starting with rough translation but it be that way sometimes, GROUNDS HIMSELF BY TOUCHING HIS BLACK CARD I CANTTT, pheromone city fuck it UP, MC is a MOOD, mutual pining, when u and bae both hire PI’s to get info on each other, R-E-S-P-E-C-T, shirt thing, fucking chuffed about the rival fucking bring it, funny art, cheated on ugh mah heart I saw it coming and it still hurt, pure comedy this airport scene is so funny to me wtf, LDR, good ol murica fuckboi, LOVE HIM RIDE FOR UR MAN/MORALS, liams a little rapey rapist hm? No one’s ever said no… well being flooded with pheromones isn’t consent my dude, istg liam = I love it when they struggle, obvs jealousy/possessive tag but such is ABO, cat suit, BUNNY suit, sexy costumes, god damn it I love them that proposal/mpreg so cute, imprinting AW, ugh baes fam is so cute I needed that bc I wanna strangle wooyoungs dad, THE SECETARY is my fucking fav never stops being A+, SEC+LIAM?? Here for it *i ship it*, FUCK SO CUTE 12/10 re-read, fluff n smut, excited for how to chase an omegaside story hyung needs love!, JINI is mood, sales king I’m dying, that collar is ~hot~ btw
Egoism
Tags: completed (because jesus I can’t with ongoing, theheartbreakTM), UPDATE FML THE HEART BREAK IS REAL also no smut, omegaverse, hey stepbro, starts with rape, possessive/jealousy (isn’t all ABO?), age difference (6years, alpha is younger *can I get hyung plz lord*), HYUNG, woof this dad SUCKS, child abuse, rape culture *sigh*, I wanna get jacked like rick and summer and beat tf out of the dad, me n my cat, TELL EM HONEY I love this MC, traitor indeed, beta x omega btw, fated pair, coercive sex, didi going to be his own demise, BREAKUP/TIME SKIP NO this is BL hell, the rona is mentioned in this, ALL I WANT IS TO HEAR YOUR STORY WAHHHHHHHHHH also YES MY SHIP IS GOING TO SAIL I CAN FEEL IT, okay honestly frustrating a bit but also liked it yah 7-8/10, won’t re-read unless I’m looking for hurt though cause the comfort is BRIEF
Yarichin bitch bu
Tags: ongoing, reading because I watched this anime after seeing it mentioned in the comment section of -im-being-harassed-by-the-sexiest-man-of-the-year, anime was 2 eps a fucking wild the way this is uploaded SUCKS, no reality porn what plot rape-y ridiculous and now I need to read the source apparently haha, I need to know much more about yuri and blue hair guy ASAP (they have the spin off*adds to list*), high school setting, smut, studentsxstudents/teachers, photography club my ass, sex toys, kinky, crossdressing, gay awakening, unrequited love, jealousy, fake relationship, two faced people, OCD, COMEDY, rich people problems, hoarder, inferiority complex, one bed, toono is a dumbass in this love triangle or denial might be a better word, they are cousins my dude stop shipping it (I say to both toono and myself LOL), I wanna see Yuri’s face laksdjf;aldskf, vibrator #18 line is fucking iconic, yaguchi is about to get real interesting (BPD?), lies/manipulation, oh toono you sweet summer child, YURI i can’t wit chu, wait did he just punch the student because he won’t kiss him or???, dubcon/noncon obvs, finally my verse couple but they’re not a couple (yuri/tamu), they all care about each other is a weird way awwww, love confessions to pet vibrator scene are ICONIC MY DUDES I CAN NOTTT, lowkey living for Yuri’s drooling at this point, Jimi gives me such bad second hand embarrassment, Yuri the switch verse bb I’ve been looking for need more!, internalized homophobia, blackmail, MIDDLE FINGER IN THE AIR YAS KING, the heartbreak of ongoing/hasn’t been updated in years
Yarichin bitch bu dj wa
Tags: not completed I think, years old though, see above you know what it is, so cute omg, FIRST KISS AW, degradation kink?, MY VERSE COUPLE I’ve finally found you, biting, choking, rough sex, sex toys, they had fun together for another two hours DECEASED
Fucked by my Best Friend
Tags: ongoing, friends to lovers, body swap, Porn what plot, cannon threesomes in past maybe??(MFF for sure but MMF??), beach life, revenge, he became a HOT woman so honestly get over it, sloppy seconds, first off you’re both sluts second lmao this is going to be wild hm?, fellas is it gay if you kiss the homies, classic did you cum guy jfc, that’s how you get preg dumbass, ah the joys of being a woman /s assault in der clrub, *DEEP SIGH* @ you almost being raped turns me on, YES TURNING BACK DYING, gender has nothing to do with this LOL but true. Also yes cannon threesomes/orgies, googles frotting, mans like narrating playtime, intecurial sex public sex, lingerie, this is the closest thing to straight manga I’ve read hahaha, THE SCIENCE OMG FUCKING RIDIC :you need a mass amount of semen within you SURE JAN, possessive. Objectification, she trying to fuck without Shion LMAO, 34+35, do you think he’s on r/nofap, dry orgasm honestly impressed with mans rn ngl, spit as lube, anal fingering, just helping the homies find their prostate, bottom shaming (disappointed but not surprised), bis/gays in denial smh, question if he has a wet dream will he turn into a woman?, shirt thing, lol at female orgasm =anal in switcharoos mind, paging doc perv, shion is enjoying dressing up hm? Same dude, biggest reality gap is believing shion got admitted to a college HAHA, bad anatomy all over the place dude, rui is a dedicated exhibitionist, HE SO TIGHT BECAUSE THERES NO LUBE team no lube over here apparently not even a courtesy spit, yandere territory sort of?, Mayu with the dick wet comment is *chefs kiss*, THE HEARTBREAK OF ONGOING WAHHH I can’t believe I read all this but I can? 8/10 problematic possessive porn
#yaoi#manga#enemies to lovers#friends to lovers#gay#lgbt#pornwhatplot#recs#book recs#manga recs#yaoi recs#ships#yandere#uke#seme
114 notes
·
View notes
Text
the shakes | p.d.
summary: “It’s the Shakes, darling. Makes everything excruciating.” Or, you’re experiencing the terrible side effects of being horny and Poe Dameron knows just how to fix it.
WARNINGS: SMUT (18+), oral (fem!receiving) and just a whole lot of banter, bruh poe is just feastin TONIGHT, sprinkle of plot
pairing: poe dameron x fem!reader
word count: 5.1k
a/n: uhhh so,,, heh,,, enjoy. bc smut.
“Ow, fuck.”
“You’re stepping on my foot.”
“My bad. It’s not like we’re stuck in a fucking closet.”
“Who’s fault is that?”
“Yours.”
You breathe out through your nose, struggling to contain your annoyance as you try to back up away from man but no dice. Instead, your back jams awkwardly against the busted control panel.
Said control panel is one of the reasons why you’re stuck in a closet with a man you met only twenty minutes before. Other reasons may or may not include you, the man mentioned, and a certain droid both of you are supposedly waiting on.
“You said that droid is coming?” you grunt as he lets out a heavy sigh against your collarbone. You’ve been squished in a four by four foot supply closet for the past twenty minutes at least and there’s barely enough room as he reaches around to jam the button again. “That’s not going to work,” you say pointedly and he scowls at you, pressing the button again.
“BB-8’s coming,” he growls. “He’ll know I’m missing.”
“Oh, thank the Maker for that!”
“Do you have a problem?”
“Uh, yeah. You’re breathing in my air, in my general vicinity.” A pause, and then: “Can you breathe in any other direction?”
In response, he sucks in a huge breath and lets it out in one big exhale towards the vent above them before glancing down again and arching a brow as if to say, Happy now?
You are most certainly not.
“At least this gives us a moment to breathe. It’s better than being arrested,” he says as if offering a ceasefire. The man leans away from you and you sigh, readjusting the strap of your short dress. His eyes are determinedly staying on yours but even you know they’ve dipped the few times your back was turned. “We can get to know each other.”
Not that you haven’t been thinking about his ass all day either. You spotted him earlier in the markets today, even if he hadn’t noticed you, with that orange and white droid rolling around behind him. Cute and memorable.
What can you say? A good looking guy tends to stick out in a crowd.
“I think I’d rather be arrested,” you say as you lean against your own wall and tug at your dress where you think it doesn’t fit too well. “Who the fuck are you, anyway?”
“You mean, you don’t lock lips with any random handsome stranger?” he fires back. “I’m hurt.”
“Right. You know what I meant.” You nod to the chip in his pocket. “What do you wanna do with that?”
“Top secret, Snatch.”
“Snatch?” you repeat, frowning. “Never mind. I’m sure it’s a secret you can share with me.” At this, you push off the wall and, by the limitations of the closet, stand in his space. Dameron straightens up, an unimpressed smirk printed on his face. “So?”
“It’s none of your business.”
“It could be.”
“It really couldn’t.” His nose brushes against yours and his soft breath tickling at your lips makes a hot spear shoot into your gut. You can taste the sunfruit on his breath, the sweet swipe of his tongue across his lips and your eyes narrow as his chest presses against yours. You don’t budge from your spot as a curl of his dark hair falls into his eyes. Almost automatically and before you can register what you’re doing, you reach up to brush it back and he catches your wrist before you can, grin growing. “I knew I recognized you.”
“I’m so happy for you,” you reply dryly. You shake his hand free from your wrist and back up against the wall, crossing your arms. “I’ve seen you in the markets a few times. The only eye-candy way out here,” you admit grudgingly, thinking of the weird fantasies you had about the guy you dubbed ‘The Man from the Market.’
Not your most graceful or catchy nickname, or your most dignified moment, waking up to soaked panties and a flustered sensation glossing over your skin, but you also didn’t expect to see him again. At this party, no less, of some merc bastard and his friends.
“Likewise,” he says, eyes dropping from yours to your lips and then darting up again. He chews on his lip, as if fighting back that cocky smile before he adds, “You’re the only thing that’s caught my eye in the past two days.”
“Charming.”
“Hm. Poe Dameron.”
You glance at the unopened door, sighing out a, “Good for you,” as you cross your legs at your ankles. Dameron only frowns, turning to the door and you observe the darkness around you. You can’t really make out anything but the solid shape of your fellow closet companion. You can’t even make out his features too well unless he’s extremely close to you, and even then, it’s a guesstimate.
You’re going to kill Yvonna. If she wants the intel, she’s going to have to pay you double the credits.
The darkness seems to crowd in on you and you take a deep breath, the heat of the room getting to you. You feel sweat gather underneath your arms, in the creases of your thighs, and maybe it’s the alcohol getting to you, but you swear your feet aren’t attached anymore. They’ve been strapped to some stupidly high heels to accentuate your legs and it's gathered in a trembling pain in your calves now that you’ve a moment to stop moving. You want to keep moving. It’s the dancing in your stomach, the strange flutter in your lungs, the involuntary clenching between your legs.
Normally, you’d be fine but right now…
God, it might’ve been something you ate. You don’t know, but right now, you feel like you’re a hollowed out piece of scrap.
“C’mon, BB-8,” Dameron murmurs as you let your head drop back against the wall. Your eyes slip shut and it’s not too different from the darkness surrounding.
Maybe it’s cause you haven’t seen Krieg in a moment which is part of the reason you’re here. Hasn’t given you a chance to take the edge off and you’re so full of this energy that needs to be spent or you’re going to die in this closet, in that ship…
You needed to do something.
Your eyes open and see the shape of Dameron’s head.
Or, someone.
Yes, you had kissed him first, pushed him into this closet, let his hands wander, but that was because a guard was coming and you weren’t about to get caught red-handed.
This fucking sucks.
“My friends call me Y/N,” you say glumly, your fingers gingerly tugging at the hem of your skirt. An uncomfortable slickening is occurring down there just thinking about that kiss that occurred in a time when you weren’t stuck in a closet, and you can’t help but think that Dameron was a good kisser.
Give credit where credit is due, all that bullshit.
“Y/N, huh?”
“I said my friends,” you reply pointedly. “Associates and otherwise know me by my callsign.”
“Which is?”
“Bandit.”
“How original,” he mutters almost under his breath and you roll your eyes. The burning in your gut spreads like a fan of fire, following where your knuckles press against your thighs as you try to adjust your dress to fit comfortably, but it’s too damn hot and you shift again, catching his attention. “You okay? Not afraid of the dark, are you?”
“No. It’s just… it’s just hot in here,” you mumble with a scowl directed at your own body betraying the way his arm bracketing you on one side of your head is radiating a heat you want to choke on. “When did it get so hot?”
“When they started serving spiced whiskey?” he tries and, this time, your scowl is directed at him with another poison to kill a small snake. “Maybe you’re having the Shakes.”
“The…” You blink, and you’re not sure if your eyes are adjusting to the blinding darkness or if you can actually see him clear as day when he bends his arm and leans against the wall by his elbow. You don’t move away and his breath, searing, tingles at your sweating neck. The drawling exhales only serve to send more thigh-clenching spasms into your stomach and you shoot him a weak glare. “The what now?”
“The Shakes,” he repeats as if he’s totally unaware of what he’s doing to your body. Maker, he must be able to smell it. There’s no way he can’t because you can feel just the effect of him being so close to you has done and— “You know.”
“I, uh, I really don’t.” If he knew a fraction of what his voice did to your panties, he would not be talking right now. Or he’d be talking more. You don’t know which one you want more.
“Oh, you know, when you haven’t had sex in a long time. I call it the Shakes. Every little thing sets you off, you get cranky and flustered, you’re all wired up and your gut feels like the first time you go into hyperspace.” He sighs, and you hear the quiet thump of his head resting against the wall. Y’know, darling?”
“Hm?” you hum, distracted by the index knuckle running over your cheek.
“It makes you distracted.” You can hear his smirk and you roll your eyes with a scoff. “It’s why I call ‘em the Shakes. Throws everything off, doesn’t it?”
“Stars, you love hearing yourself talk, don’t you?”
“You know, I see the it often enough that I can recognize any poor soul suffering from a mile away,” he says, ignoring you. “And you’re sick with it, Snatch.” Casually as if he isn’t lazily tracing the shell of your ear with his hand now, he chuckles. You close your eyes as if you’re not critically aware of every desire to pull him into another hard kiss, every little movement of his body from the way he leans to the way his fingers flutter around the curve of your jaw.
You’re a fucking fighter, though. You’re not about to hook up with some random motherfucker in a closet.
Even if the random motherfucker is the hottest thing you’ve seen in who knows how long.
Holy shit, you think your gut might explode with how hard you’re trying to keep it together so you say the first thing you can think of related.
“I didn’t get sick the first time I flew into hyperspace. I didn’t get sick the first time I did an aileron. I, uh, I really don’t get sick when I fly at all,” you say, eyebrows rising skeptically. “Do you?”
Confused: “No. I’m a pilot.”
“Oh. And you get the Shakes often, then? Wedged in the seat for hours on end,” you ask conversationally, managing to keep your tone in check. Dameron chuckles at your question, but he pulls back. Your thighs press together and something lurches at his withdrawal, wanting him near again but you silently push those urges down. “If you’re so wise to depart your knowledge with me, that is.”
“You’re a funny girl. Nah, you just get used to it when you’re busy doing other things.”
“Other things?”
“Hm, well, let’s say I have a busy job, and that’s pretty much my whole twenty-four-seven schedule.” He comes close again, close enough that his lips brush against the delicate skin before your ear and shivers shoot down your spine like waves of electricity and you stiffen. You know he hears you suck in your breath, the tiny hitch of your chest and he chuckles again, almost amused.
“I think… it’s…” Maker, please forgive me for my utterly hedonistic will that has the strength of melted bantha cheese. “Fuck, I think it’s physically impossible to ignore that you’re horny.”
“I didn’t say that,” he corrects, lips whispering over your skin. He tilts his head. “I said you get used to it.”
“Well… n-normally, I’m pretty fucking good at that.” You bite your lip and lift your head to the ceiling, thighs pressing together and straightening up but the sound of your dress dragging against the wall gives you away. “When... people��aren’t around.”
“People?” he echoes. “You alright, Snatch?” Fuck him. He is definitely enjoying this.
Well, fuck. Might as well, right?
“The Shakes,” you say in a very steady tone that is betrayed by the absolute ocean swimming between your thighs, “may have found residence here.”
“Hm.”
“That funny to you?” you ask, feeling his smug fucking smirk against your cheek and turning to look at him. His dark eyes glint somehow in the non-existent light. You just know it’s there. A cocky spark.
“Explains why you kiss like I’d melt away between your fingers. It was a good kiss, by the way. You’re a good kisser,” he adds, “but more passionate than I thought you’d go for, considering all we were trying to do was evade the guards and that fact that up until that point, you were trying to pickpocket me.”
“I was trying to get the chip. And I think the pushing into the closet was a good touch,” you defend as he rotates around and cages you against the wall. You stare defiantly back. “He went away, didn’t he?”
“But that just implies something.” His elbows are on either side of your head and he leans in, low enough that you can feel the sound of his voice, his sweet breath against your aching mouth. It’s one thing to admit it but another thing to act on it. Maker, are you really about to—
You know what?
Fuck it. Your panties are ruined, you need this fucking annoying heat out of your system and he’s fucking right about one thing: you’re hornier than a Lucrusian fengrill in heat.
What do you have to lose?
“Why just imply something?” you ask innocently as his lips brush against the corner of your mouth. You sigh in relief when the heat seems to sink, spreads through your body instead, and his shadow brushes against your skin as he moves lower, lips finding your chin, the curve of your jawbone. “Oh, fuck…” you choke out, your hands finding his hair automatically, threading through the dry locks and his name slips out in a breathless moan. “Fuck, Dameron.”
His body jerks at the sound of his name coming from you and your eyes widen when his hips press flush against your thigh. His bulge is hot and hard, the fabric of his pants silky against your bare skin and you let out a soft sound when he nudges your head up. His hands run over the walls, find your shoulders, your waist, tugging at fabric that sticks to your skin before continuing elsewhere, and you’re not even breathing as he licks at the pulse point, the sweat, the alcohol glazing your skin.
“Shit,” he breathes against your neck, teeth running along the vein as his hand sneaks underneath the hem of your dress, skirts around the edge of your panties and it’s the brush across the absolutely soaked spot that does him in, does you in because you know he felt you clench around nothing. “Fuck, I can feel it—”
“Shut up,” you groan, wrenching his head up and smashing your lips against his. He sighs into your mouth, hips grinding against yours as you take a handful of his curls. You yank him back, your lungs seizing for air. Everything tastes like sugar and starfruit as you push him down to his knees, your calves burning. “My feet. Ow. Fuck these heels, honestly.”
“I got ‘em.” His hands immediately find your ankles, running smooth circles into your skin but before you can tell him the strap is on the outer side of your leg, he lifts your foot up. A protest stammers in your throat as he reaches up and presses you against the wall with a large hand flat against your tummy, but he merely smirks against your thigh, letting your knee hang off his broad shoulder. “It’s the Shakes, darling. Makes everything excruciating.”
“Dameron—”
“Relax,” he drawls as your back meets the wall flush and cold. You grab onto the handle of one of the mechanical drawers, wincing when his hand digs into the sore muscle on its way up to stabilize your thigh just as the other on your stomach travels down. “Got a nice view, don’t you?”
“Would be better,” you grit out, “if I could see.”
“Need me to pull out my glow-in-the-dark condoms for you?”
“Dameron.”
“Kidding. Well, only half. I do have some back on the ship.”
“Dameron.”
“Alright, alright. Next time.”
You can’t even see the silhouette of his face anymore, gone underneath the hem of your dress, but you shake your head anyway, lip caught between your teeth as you feel his hand slide up and down the one calf still planted firmly on the ground.
You take a breath and let your head fall back, your ravaged neck pulsing, your entire world spinning.
It happens all at once. When his grip on the thigh resting on his shoulder tightens, when he lifts your other leg over his shoulder, when he surges forward, his lips finding your soaked panties immediately, teeth nipping lightly at the fabric.
Your entire system shuts down.
He noses up higher and your thighs wrap around his head, ankles hooking. His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs, clutches at your ass really, and your fingers in his hair tighten when the dress begins to ride up higher, revealing more of the gorgeous man between your legs.
Oh, how you wish there was some sort of light in here so you can just—
There’s one shaky breath, then another, and there’s no movement which you’re only painfully aware of and your eyes open—when did you even close them?—as you look down. “What’s wrong?”
“I just wish I could see you, darling,” he breathes, kissing the top of your slit and sending a warm shiver through your gut. “Fuck. The way you’d look when I finally chase the Shakes out of you—I’d ruin you. Ruin you and then some. Eat for days.” And then his teeth return, barely skimming the soft flesh of your navel as they hook on the waistband of your panties and tug, his breath following down your thigh as he works on pulling it down, slowly, luxuriously, his lips soft as they press teasing kisses in the crease of your thighs, land tiny nips to the juncture of your hips. You spasm at every turn, wiggle and squeeze until you’re sure you’re cutting off the circulation in his neck, but he doesn’t give any indication that he cares.
No, he just holds you against the wall, your legs tossed over his shoulders, and grins.
You don’t know how you know.
You just do so you don’t know why you stutter out, “You g-good?” anyway.
“Fucking perfect.”
Maybe it’s so you can hear that voice, low and deep in his chest, between your legs.
He leans forward and his nose bumps into your clit, and, as if on reflex, a warm, strong tongue darts out and licks a solid stripe through your heat. “Fuck, darlin’.”
Definitely so you can hear that voice between your legs.
“You’re heaven, y’know that?” he mumbles but you can’t quite focus, your hands gripping at anything you can—one in his hair, the other on that handle and your back arches when he just goes for it, mouth to clit contact, tongue probing and licking and stroking all at once. “Think ‘m gonna die if you don’t drown me first.”
“W-way to i-inflate a girl’s—fuck…” Your voice goes hoarse midway, as if he sucks it out of you, and you can feel the air in your lungs going with it as your back arches off the steel wall. You can feel his jaw, sharp and strong and warm, flexing against your thighs as he works, tongue velvet, lips teasing and he inhales deeply as your legs tighten around his head.
His fingers dig deeper into your ass and you choke back a pathetic moan when his teeth raze your swollen bud lightly, just enough to tease you and keep you on edge. Everything is cotton. The shadows, his hair, his rough hands that are full of calluses you don’t know the meanings of.
Your nails scratch his scalp, tug him impossibly closer and you’re biting through your lip right now, your moans bundling in your chest as he pushes deeper, pushes you closer against the wall as if he wants more of you but can’t quite reach and you want to just let him continue, let him have his fun because you’re sure he can go down on you for hours but—
You’re only human, and the tide comes so quickly you fucking know for sure two things: Dameron knows what he’s doing and Dameron knows what the fuck the Shakes are.
A slight brush of his tongue at your clit and you’re gone. You’re on that downhill slope that sends a spiral of chain events through your body. Your thighs lock around his head and your fingers tighten as lightning shivers and lances through your limbs, sending your heart up into your throat and pulsing between your legs. Your gut clenches, so desperate to hold on that you can’t even breathe, that the only thing you can stutter out is some bare semblance to his name followed by ramblings of “fuck” slewn with more “close… close… so, so close…”
Your eyes are screwed shut, your mind scrambling to concoct an image—an image that would be reality if the lights were on and you can almost see it. Poe Dameron, with his dark eyes, raven hair, plush lips and a beard that scratches against your skin, on his knees with your legs thrown over his shoulders, his hands, huge and veined and strong, grabbing at what flesh he can, head gone underneath the hem of your dress and you can only feel what he’s doing—
You don’t even recognize him chuckling until you can feel the vibration of it through your knees, against your leg.
“Darlin’,” he pants, drawing back just enough to breathe and he tilts his chin just enough to press a sloppy, slick kiss against the soft flesh of your inner thigh and he laughs again, entertained at the desperate little whine that comes outta your throat because the image would’ve been just enough if he kept going for a second more, “gotta let me fuckin’ breathe if you want me to stay down here.”
“That’s…” You struggle for words because you’re heaving so hard, so out of breath because you didn’t even know you weren’t breathing for several seconds. “That’s—it’s, oh, shit.” Your thought process is disturbed by another teasing lick at your swollen folds. “Dameron, if you don’t let me just fucking—”
He nips at the juncture between your thigh and your soaking, swollen cunt.
“Watch it.” You retaliate with a sharp tug of his hair and he only laughs again, soothing the bite mark with a few gentle kisses.
“Just keeping you on edge, darling,” he whispers, peeking up from underneath your dress for the first time in what feels like hours. You run your hand blindly down his face and feel the slickness on his chin, swiping it off but his teeth catch your thumb, and then it’s his tongue wrapping around your fingers, too, sending fluttering shivers through your stomach. He licks them dry before he lets go and your hand finds his hair again as he sighs, disappearing between your legs again, and you barely hear it, a nearly indecipherable mumble that sounds more like it’s coming from inside your head that his own mouth, “Anyone ever told you… you taste like heaven?”
“And how would you know?” you gasp, feeling a little giggly yourself as the crest begins to rise, your chin tilted up as his tongue flattens against your slit. He hums to himself, the curve of his jaw brushing against your tender thigh as he pulls back just enough to speak.
“‘Cause I just tasted it, darling. And I know I could just feast on you for days.” Your entire body tenses as he laughs into your cunt, the ripples of it against your sensitive skin shooting through your spine and you’re on that downward spiral again as his smiling mouth attaches to your bud and his tongue dips into you again.
You’re dripping. The sounds are obscene, filthy to the nth degree, and you’re so close that it aches. You want to thrust but you can’t risk toppling the man you’re resting on the shoulders of, but at the same time, you know he’s teasing the ever loving shit out of you with his shallow passes, his fluttering kisses.
Taking his sweet time, indulging in it. You’re pretty sure if he could make do on his promise to eat you out for however long you’d let him, he would, but you’re half-aware of where you are, that the droid is supposedly coming, and having half-a-brain is half-a-brain too much to lose all common sense.
“Dameron,” you whisper, and he pauses, looking up and you wish you could see his face, the face of a man who stopped at the mere utterance of his name that it sends a thrill through your overstimulated system. “Please.”
There are no further words needed.
He works you up to it slowly, until your fingers are clamped so hard and you’re seeing stars despite there being nothing but shadows around you. The only sound is the wet slop of his mouth working against your drenched pussy, your moans and his heavy breathing that fans out across your navel.
It’s when his tongue pushes so much deeper, and curls, that your thighs clamp down around his head and your fingers are gripping so hard you’re not sure you’re going to make it without a few nail cuts in your palms that you know the Shakes are gone.
Your entire world flips as your vision goes black. Your fingers curl tighter, your thighs begin to quiver, and everything snaps inside you. Your back arches off the wall and you feel like you scream but it’s because your voice is so utterly broken that it seems so as he continues to drink through the floods, drawing out the aftershocks for as long as possible and the euphoria that shoots through you like a blaster is both molten and cool as spring water.
Your vocabulary is nothing but his name, soft breathes of “fuck” and “shit”, and the unrelenting “thank you”.
Your heart rattles against your ribs, beating so quickly you think it might burst from your chest and you feel another quivering sigh escape your lips as Dameron gives you a few more gentle sucks to your messy centre before he’s slowly running his hands up your thighs, to your knees, and gently sliding your legs off back to the floor.
Your body is trembling so hard that your knees nearly give in immediately, but, luckily, Dameron’s hands find your waist and ease you to the ground just as you let go of the handle of the drawer.
“Fuck,” you croak ungracefully once your ass is on solid ground and you gulp down nothing but air as you try to open your eyes. It’s not that different from your closed vision and there are a few white stars blinding you in the dark, but you can still make out the shape of your partner, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand before he’s leaning over your leg to check the control panel. It’s then that you can feel it, pressed against your shin. He’s hard as a fucking rock. “Y-you need—” But your voice is a garbled mess, exhausted from the alcohol and the Shakes, and he turns to you, fingers dancing up your calves before slowly pulling your ruined panties back up your thighs.
“Up,” he orders quietly, and you lift your hips up enough for him to slip them firmly back onto your hips. “And it’s fine. I told you. I’m good with the Shakes.”
“Yeah, but, y’know…” you mumble, “could be good.” You can feel him smiling as he leans over to kiss your neck blindly, still finding that tender juncture of your shoulder. You grin, your hands finding his shoulders and roaming his back, feeling the curved muscle of a military man. You know his type.
Continuing downward, down his sides…
“You do owe me,” he murmurs and you nod as he pulls back just as the sound of beeping on the other end of the door.
“Mhm, don’t wanna stay in debt,” you say just as the sound of whirring fills the heated silence and your grin grows as you expectedly raise one of your hands to shield the light about to fill their little closet. You pull your other hand away and you begin pulling the loops out on your heels, sliding your aching feet out of those torture shoes. “Maybe we’ll run into each other again in the future, huh? Pay you back then.”
The door slides open and you stand as he scrambles to his feet as well. At least, you can see his features clearly, and you grin because he’s just as handsome as the first time you saw him.
Absolute score.
With your fingers hooked on your shoes, you wipe the bit of slick he missed on the corner of his mouth. He grabs your hand before it drops, pressing a cheeky kiss to the center of your palm and you roll your eyes.
“That’s fine with me,” he replies, squinting against the light and you tap his cheek.
“See you around, Flyboy.” You flash him one last smile before leaving the closet first and walking down the hall. Your knees are still trembling and you feel like you’re a complete mess as you stagger through the metal hallway. Exhaustion is telling you to just go the fuck to sleep right then and there, but you can’t. Not until you get back to your ship and get into hyperspace.
As soon as you’ve rounded a corner, you run with everything you have.
It’s only a matter of time before Poe Dameron realizes that the chip that was in his pocket is making its way to another buyer.
Yvonna totally owes you.
#fic: the shakes#poe dameron#poe dameron x reader#poe dameron x you#poe dameron fic#poe dameron fanfiction#poe dameron imagine#poe x reader#poe x you#sw#star wars#star wars x you#star wars x reader#star wars fanfiction#star wars fic#poe dameron smut#poe x reader smut#star wars imagine#star wars smut#my writing
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
my secret galaxy brain reading of spn s11 is better than yours
or: why season 11 is good actually. this is a long-ass meta, so it's going behind the cut
some disclaimers before we get going
absolutely all of this is accidental. nobody does this shit on purpose. this is ~my interpretation~ or whatever. i'm not actually trying to argue the writers meant to do this lol. what i'm saying is that this is the way to make season 11 make sense in your brain because it makes sense in mine and it's one of my FAVORITES. it could be one of your favorites too if you stop limiting yourself
there is heavy discussion of sexual violence in this meta so read safely etc also spoilers for all of s11 obviously
unless you watched the anime, i've seen more supernatural than you have, so i'm right >:)
for the uninitiated, the basic plot of season 11 is that eons and eons ago, before there was heaven or hell or earth or humans or angels, there was only god (chuck) and the darkness (amara). amara kept destroying what god made, so he and the archangels locked her away in a cage, which removing the mark of cain from dean's arm opened. amara escaped and dean was the first thing she saw, so she spends the season using some kind of thrall over him to make him feel drawn to her and unable to hurt her, and also looking for chuck so she can give him a little payback.
ALRIGHT HERE WE GO
season 11 & sexual violence
you don't need to look very far to find examples of sexualized violence and outright sexual violence on supernatural, but s11 is lousy with it. just to name a few examples:
amara's "thrall" on dean, which we will absolutely get into more later
crowley's jokes about altar boys and the tastes of catholic priests
ALLLLL the pedophile jokes made when crowley was raising baby amara
angels torturing cas and threatening to cut his genitals off, only to send in hannah (an angel who formerly had unrequited romantic/sexual feelings for him) to play good cop(/honeypot??) in hopes of making him talk
the return of lucifer, who possessed sam (spn has a history of equating possession and sexual violence) and is heavily implied to have raped sam in hell, and the MULTIPLE times he menaces sam throughout this season, including forcibly touching his soul
lucifer possessing castiel and using him to enact violence on the winchesters, his loved ones
i absolutely REFUSE to acknowledge the lucifer/crowley stuff but if you know you know
the episode with the kissing curse, using "love" as a means to deliver death
dean's possession in the soul eater episode
the "chitters" monsters involving mating, orgies, and forcible impregnation
you get the idea
i could write a whole essay on almost all of these but for this post we'll be sticking mostly to dean & amara
@marcusantonius pointed out while we were watching season 11 that what amara does to dean is basically speedrun his two major attachments - sam and castiel. she starts out as a baby, someone in need of protection, and quickly grows into an adult who attempts to romance/seduce him. the feelings dean has around amara aren't feelings FOR HER, they're feelings he has for SAM AND CAS that are being TRANSFERRED onto her through means of her power. (this is important for later.)
what amara does to dean is sexualized violence bordering on outright sexual assault. compelling him to feel drawn towards her and to protect her, frequently getting in his personal space and touching his face, and even kissing more than once when he is quite literally unable to resist (it's stated many times that he is unable to kill or even harm her, so he is completely helpless in the presence of someone who makes no secret of her intentions for him, sexual or otherwise).
dean says many times that what he feels for amara is not love or desire or attraction. he can't put a name to it at all - not once in the entire series is he able to properly define this thrall she has over him, which leaves us the audience a little confused (amara asking "what IS happening between us?" in 11.06 as a teenager making sexual advances on a grown man does give me a good laugh, because it was written SO WEIRDLY)... BUT we know that it is definitely sexual in nature, and not at all something dean wants to be happening.
this is addressed kind of strangely in 11.13. the villain of the week is a witch moonlighting as a hairdresser, who puts a kissing curse on her clients. the curse must be passed along like a hot potato - if you kiss someone else, it's passed along to them. if they kiss someone else, it's passed along to them. but eventually, a monster called a qareen will show up in the form of "your deepest desire" and kill you, and work its way backwards to the original curse-ee. in the episode, dean kisses the vic (i'll point out this was also technically done w/o her consent, though it was a very businesslike kiss) to put the curse on himself and protect her. the qareen takes the form of amara, and she gives Dean this little speech:
Qareen!Amara: You're a mystery. I can see inside your heart. Feel the love you feel. Except it's cloaked in shame. When it comes to this, you can’t help yourself, so why fight it? Just give in.
then, at the end of the episode, after dean reveals who the qareen was for him, we get this conversation between sam and dean:
Dean: You seriously think the sister of God is my deepest darkest desire?
Sam: She isn't?
Dean: No! She can’t be!
Sam: Why not?
Dean: Why? Because if she is that means that I'm…
Sam: Means you're what? Complicit? Weak? Evil?
Dean: For starters, yeah.
Sam: Dean. Do you honestly think you ever had a choice in the matter? She's the sister of God, and for some reason she picked you and that sucks, but if you think I’m gonna blame you or judge you…I'm not.
the "shame" part of both of these is really what stuck out to me - the word itself isn't in the second passage, but dean's vibes are absolutely filled with shame. to me, this always read as being shame about the sexual violence and about the complicity/weakness that "allowed" that violence to happen.
and as a reminder, sam is just a few episodes past the confrontation with his own rapist (he returns to the cage to speak with lucifer in 11.09 & 11.10, and canonically struggles with what happened there even after the confrontation ends). sam made a point earlier in this episode of making sure the victim of the curse knew it wasn't her fault her husband died, but the fault of the witch who cast the curse. sam is VERY emotionally intelligent, and i honestly believe that he was speaking as one survivor of sexual violence to another here. what he's telling dean is something victims often need to be reminded of: it's not your fault. you weren't complicit, or weak. you didn't have a choice. you don't deserve blame or judgment.
we've had bad guys make sexual threats at both dean and sam many times before this and a few more times after, but as far as i can recall, this is the only conversation in the entire series that even attempts to address the impact of that particular kind of violence on dean. it's short, and strangely written, but nonetheless: there it is.
season 11 & the dean in the closet
for the purposes of this post, i'm not going to go through the entire series and find examples to try and prove dean is bi and has feelings for cas. if you don't believe that then what are you doing here? we're skipping to the goods.
actually, i always got annoyed at people who read the fake-amara's speech in 11.13 (or any of the other times people spoke about dean's shame regarding amara) as being about dean's sexuality, because in my mind it was ABSOLUTELY about his being a victim of sexual violence, which was far more important to me, as it is discussed far less often.
BUT, knowing what we know now (that cas was always canonically in love with dean, and it's all but canon that dean really was bisexual), i'm willing to entertain another notion:
Sam: ...you're what? Complicit? Weak? Evil?
Dean: For starters, yeah.
the "evil" bit never really sat right with me as part of the narrative of sexual violence, aside from touching on dean's general self-loathing, but it fits the narrative of being closeted MUCH better. dean, a self-hating homophobic bisexual, would probably use a similar word, if not something heavy as "evil," to describe the way he feels about other men. it's a malevolent feeling. (if you're like me and ascribe to the jackles headcanon that dean resorted to turning tricks to make food money when he was underage, we could also consider the extremely fucked up fact that almost every queer man dean's ever met is someone who hurt him.)
dean is ashamed of who and what he is, and the way he feels about cas. living like that, that's violence. he lives violently day in and day out with that feeling. (and amara knows it. it's worth nothing that she uses cas to communicate with dean MULTIPLE times in this season, both by carving messages on his body and psychically, through his own connection to dean - and when dean "betrays" her to rescue casifer, she's horrified at whatever she sees in his head.)
equating sexual violence to the violence of being closeted
but what's amazing about this weird badly-written little 11.13 conversation (and indeed, the season-long plotline of dean and his shame) is that we don't HAVE to assign it to the purposes of being about sexual violence OR about being closeted. it can be and IS both.
my favorite reading of this is that BEING IN THE CLOSET IS INHERENTLY A VIOLENT AND TRAUMATIC EXPERIENCE. many of the same feelings are involved: shame, guilt, self-loathing. sam's comforting words to dean - that he will not be blamed or judged - are equally applicable in both cases. dean is a victim of sexual violence, and he is also in the closet, and both of these experiences are traumatic ones, and they are intermingled with each other in a big way (again, if you're into dean-turned-tricks headcanon, they are intermingled INSEPERABLY - the sexual violence being one of the direct causes of dean not wanting to accept or address his own sexuality).
the bait-and-switch
the real galaxy brain moment of this whole thing begins at the end of 11.22 (an otherwise lackluster episode that played sam's lucifer trauma for laughs how dare they ugh god whatever that's off-topic but i HATE IT) when amara and chuck finally have the confrontation she's been fighting all season for. she is attacked by witches, demons, angels, and then stabbed by lucifer himself, before she's finally on her knees before chuck, and then we get this little exchange:
Chuck: I'm sorry. For this, for everything.
Amara: An apology at last. What's sorry to me? I spent millions of years crammed into that cage alone and afraid...
maybe you already know where i'm going with this. a cage isn't so different from a closet when we're working with metaphors, right?
amara talks about her grievances with chuck many times throughout season 11 - that he was spoiled, that he created the earth to stroke his ego, that he couldn't handle her as she was. and once he finally makes his appearance he tells it his own way - that he had no choice but to lock amara away, that she couldn't stand the things and people he made, that he did it to protect people. but something about THIS conversation in particular - even though it's not written into the dialogue - gives me a particular kind of vibe.
there is something innately, unspeakably WRONG with amara. i don't mean unspeakable as in very bad, i mean unspeakable as in LITERALLY undefinable. it's just like dean being unable to put a name to the pull she has over him. no one talks directly at it or about it, they go in circles around it, but facts are facts: amara simply couldn't be allowed to exist as she was because there was just something innately wrong with her. and it's this conversation in particular, the first one they have together onscreen, that really slams that feeling home for me.
the entire time chuck and amara are talking, the camera repeatedly cuts to dean - he is so visibly upset that the first time i watched this, i was certain he was about to jump into the middle of things and put himself between the two of them. we're meant to believe that dean has trouble hearing this because he "cares" about amara, but i have a different take.
i think it's empathy. real, actual empathy - not the kind of feeling that amara had to force out.
stay with me here. eventually, after chuck tries to lock amara away again, she gets her second wind, attacks him, and leaves him for dead - and as he dies, the sun dies with him, and so too does all life on earth.
in the following episode, the finale, amara finds her way to a park, where she takes in god's creation, visibly upset as she realizes that his flowers die at her touch (again, hammering home the point that there is something innately wrong with her that means she cannot live in this world), and eventually speaks with an old lady feeding the birds.
Woman: Do you want to feed them?
Amara: I shouldn't.
Woman: I've been feeding these birds going on 20 years now. They're practically family. And I know that makes me sound like a crazy old bat, but...heck. My husband died a couple of years ago, and my son keeps slipping me these brochures for retirement communities - a.k.a. where they send old folks to die, but not to make a fuss about it.
Amara: So you hate him.
Woman: Well, a little bit. Sometimes. But you know family. Even when you hate them, you still love them.
this speech brings tears to amara's eyes. what's more, she spends this entire section with her hands in her lap. after a season of killing her way through humanity to get god's attention, she is afraid to touch these birds for fear of killing them. she feels empathy for them. she and dean are connected, after all - so as soon as he began to feel true, genuine empathy - so did she.
when dean shows up to kill amara (via a bomb made out of souls hidden in his chest), she immediately clocks his plan. she practically dares him to do it, and - he can't. he is, as always, helpless against her.
what dean does instead is talk to her. more importantly, he listens to her. when she says her brother sent dean here to execute her, he tells her chuck actually didn't want this - that it was actually his very last resort. he asks her if this, the death of everything, is what she wanted, and she tells him all she really wanted was payback. again, dean EMPATHIZES:
Dean: Yeah, that's revenge. It'll get you out of bed in the morning, and when you get it, it feels great... for about five minutes. I've been there. Me and Sam, we have had our fair share of fights—more than our share. But no matter how bad it got, we always made it right because we're family. I need him. He needs me. And when everything goes to crap, that's all you've got—family. Now you might be a—an all-powerful being...but I think you're human where it counts. You simply need your brother.
what's really neat about this section, and the scene before it where amara confronts her brother, is that they mark the first times dean felt any sort of genuine emotion for amara at all - one that she didn't force out of him or one that he felt for someone else that she just took for herself. dean genuinely EMPATHIZES with her - after everything she's done to him and his loved ones, and to the people on earth, dean sees the humanity in her. that's kind of his and sam's M.O., loving monsters into men - the number of non-human adversaries who eventually became allies because of the winchesters’ empathy or liking for them or even just their influence is staggering. cas, gabriel, meg, benny, crowley, rowena, metatron, to name a few off the top of my head - and now amara.
and then we get THIS:
Dean: You don't want to be alone. Not really. I mean, hell. Maybe that's why you wanted me. But deep down, you didn't really want me... 'cause I'm not him.
(emphasis mine)
and here's my galaxy brain take: dean empathizes with amara - TRULY empathizes with her - because they're both queer (or queer-coded).
I KNOW THIS SOUNDS NUTS BUT LISTEN. this weird creepy stalkery hetero "romance" was fake on both sides all along. dean and amara are the same. that unspeakable and innate wrongness lives in both of them. they're self-loathing and furious at god for his failures and callousness, outcasts in a world that isn't for them, a world that has HURT them simply on account of them being what they are. the violence done to amara was done to her BECAUSE of this unspeakable wrongness about her - her queerness, or her queer-codedness - and we already decided this was, for the purposes of this season, functionally the same violating and traumatic experience as sexual violence.
amara's been using dean to try and replace chuck this entire season. it's some weird comphet bullshit tied in with the fact that dean was the first part of chuck's creation she ever saw. it stands to reason then that she was trying to force dean to be with her and love her the way she wanted to force CHUCK to be with her. that's part of why she started life as a baby - as someone he'd protect as he did his own sibling.
so in some weird, warped, very roundabout way, amara was enacting on dean the violence that chuck enacted on her - making him feel the same shame and weakness that chuck made HER feel when he locked her away eons ago. if amara unknowingly replaced chuck with dean, then she also unknowingly took part of her revenge on him. the only way she knew how to love someone was to force them to do it, because the only ways she had ever been loved until now involved violence - until dean and his moment of genuine empathy.
consider this final speech:
Dean: Maybe I can kill you. Or maybe I can't. Maybe if I pull this trigger, we all live happily ever after, or maybe we die bloody, or maybe it doesn't matter, because maybe there's a different way. So I'm gonna ask you again. Put aside the rage. Put aside the hate. And you tell me...what do you want?
dean is the only person in BILLIONS of years to ask her this! one queer to another! and it turns out that and all she wanted - the ONLY thing she needed - was to be understood and accepted by her family. immediately after this, amara summons chuck to their park, and the two of them talk it out in what is genuinely a very moving scene. amara - perhaps because of her connection with dean, perhaps because she's finally admitted to herself that she does still love her brother - sees the beauty in the world now, and feels love for it, and she doesn't want to destroy it anymore.
and at the end, after she's made her peace with god, and the sun has been turned back on, amara says:
Amara: Dean, you gave me what I needed most. I want to do the same for you.
and what do we get at the end of this episode? mary winchester, risen from her grave. dean's family. and - SPOILERS FOR SEASON 12 - though at first mary rejects dean (and sam) as being the same children she remembers from 1983, after a long and rocky road, at the end of the season, they eventually come to a reconciliation where she sees them for who they truly are. it's never ABOUT being queer because this show uses the fucking hays code when it comes to dean's sexuality, but it's still about being queer!!
dean gave amara what she needed - acceptance from her family - and she gave him that back in turn. all it took, the entire time, was one SHRED of empathy from one queer to another. all dean had to do was recognize her - REALLY recognize her - not as a replacement for sam or cas but as who she really was. and he saw himself in her, and the empathy that followed was genuine because it was the most natural thing in the world. in the end neither dean nor amara needed the "romance" they thought they did/were forced to want. they never did. they only needed acceptance and understanding.
supernatural is always about family and the power of love, and this season is no exception.
other great parts of season 11
if you're still not convinced, season 11 is full of other things that make it amazing:
GOD'S RETURN. after SIX YEARS he's back, this is canon, we finally get to hear what he has to say. they did more with him in a handful of episodes in this season than all of season 15
also, something else returns after six years. i'll give you a hint: it glows hot in god's presence. it was last seen being dropped into a motel trash can.
and of course the big one: lucifer and sam. what great callbacks to seasons 4-6 when lucifer and what he did to sam in hell was actually scary and mattered a lot! lucifer returns to being scary in this and i can't get enough of it.
this is also inseparable from sam's arc involving his faith - he begins praying again, having visions again, and is GUTTED when those prayers and visions lead him back to the place of his worst trauma. he gets to MEET GOD this season. it's fucking insane
the inherent melodrama of castiel, someone loved and trusted by the winchesters, being possessed by someone who they hate and who has hurt them. you get all of the sam drama with him accidentally trusting lucifer with his soul and his brother's life, and all the dean drama where he watches the devil run around in his boyfriend. also, misha collins does an uncanny impression of mark pellegrino. it's actually really creepy
somehow, they managed to make metatron, a deeply hated villain by all, ACTUALLY LIKEABLE. for TWO whole episodes. it was NUTS
this season starts off rowena's long arc with lucifer and her lucifer trauma that eventually becomes the catalyst of her bonding so profoundly with sam <3 best friends forever <333
sam and dean bond with a pair of canonically gay hunters who DON'T DIE
billie is introduced in this season and she's super hot and cool and awesome
eileen is also introduced in this season. her arc mirrors sam's so well, it's SO good. i never though i'd care about sam and a girl who wasn't jess, but i care about them SO MUCH it makes me insane. if you don't love eileen you're wrong!
anyway, watch season 11. it's weird but it's really fucking good. THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK
[spn masterpost]
#supernatural#dean winchester#amara#supernatural meta#destiel#in a roundabout way#i needed a 5th tracked tag lol#i stayed up ALL NIGHT writing this but im gonna be a smartie and schedule it to go up at noon when ppl are awake#liz watches spn#liz's meta#liz's spn stuff#liz makes stuff#long post#just in case the cut fails#this meta really is 3800 words long lol#as a bonus it was implied in late season 10 that amara is the older sibling#even though they retconned it and made them twins later#like amara and dean are both eldest sisters.......
278 notes
·
View notes
Text
That’s The Way (Chapter 4)
Pairing: Jimmy Page x Reader
Word count: 5.7k
Warning(s): Jimmy and Y/N falling in love at first sight🥺, nsfw insinuations in the beginning but nothing bad, language
Author’s notes: It’s Jimmy time, mates! I’m so sorry for making you wait so long! Slow burns can suck like that sometimes. I hope you’re enjoying the plot so far, and that it wasn’t what you expected! There’s so much more drama to come, though, so I hope you’re excited for that😂 As usual, please enjoy, happy reading, and send us messages if you have theories, comments, music recommendations for the playlist, or if you want to be added to the tag list :)
Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3
------
Y/N’s train ride home from The Yardbirds’ hotel was a constant swirl of what the fucks booming in her mind: what the fuck just happened, what the fuck does this mean, what the fuck am I doing, what the fuck is Jim doing, what the fuck will this become?
Out of all the things on God’s good, green earth he could have wanted, he wanted her to kiss him. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Y/N thought when she initially heard the request. Then, when she questioned it, he escalated it to a blowjob since she thought a kiss was “too tame.” Y/N eventually did kiss Jim, as he wished. She was pretty sure that he still wanted her to kiss him after his little upgrade, and boy, was she right. ‘He called me a princess’, she remembered...what the hell was that supposed to mean?
As contradictory as it was, her mind was racing with so many thoughts, yet, at the same time, none at all. She was in overdrive, unable to think straight. Y/N forced herself to come to her senses as the train neared her stop, since her parents could not see the sheer bewilderment in her eyes and facial expression as she walked into her home. They would ask question after question, interrogating her as if she had committed a crime they had to get to the bottom of. She had to admit, reluctantly, that this was exciting. The star-studded aspect of it, the secrecy… It was a rollercoaster ride, yet Y/N wasn’t sure she wanted to get off anytime soon. In the back of her mind, though, she knew this little dalliance wasn’t going to lead to anything serious.
Jim, however, currently sitting at the foot of his bed in an empty hotel room, was in a complete daze. He couldn’t comprehend that this was reality. The most beautiful girl in the whole world had just sucked him off, and then kissed him! She was completely obedient yet willing, and adorably shy, blushing every two seconds. But the kiss. It was dizzyingly soft, sweet, and passionate on her part. To Jim, this meeting of lips was perfect. Addictive. Devastatingly addictive, like a drug. He wanted more. Her lips were something else to taste and feel. He wondered if she would ever come back to him with intimate intentions. Perhaps even to spend the night, or something even more serious. By the way she so often smiled in a bright and enthusiastic way, Jim thought she just might. He had come to the conclusion, after continuously replaying what had happened just minutes ago in his head, that he was falling hopelessly in love with this girl. His Y/N.
Jim had never felt like this before.
And he didn’t know what to do about it.
~~~~~~~~
A few weeks later...
Y/N’s mum had sent her and her brother Charlie by train into London to go grocery shopping, and perhaps to visit Carnaby Street, Portobello Market, and the Oxfam charity shops to get some new clothes for themselves. Pushing the cart around the supermarket, Y/N and Charlie looked intently at the handwritten list their mum had given them.
“Alright, what do we need next?” Y/N asked, her head tilted to see the small piece of paper.
“Uh, we still have to get oatmeal, eggs, and some fruits and vegetables,” Charlie replied, mirroring Y/N’s position as he gazed down at the list in his hands, which was slowly being painted with black ink. They were making good time, all things considered.
“Let’s go to the produce section then, so we can get everything all in one go,” Y/N decided, starting to push the cart in that direction.
“Yeah, that makes sense.” Charlie’s nod served as confirmation, and the two walked on, gazes captured every-so-often by the gaggle of people passing by.
Once the two siblings reached their desired destination, Y/N began inspecting the clear clamshell containers of assorted berries as Charlie went to fetch a bag of broccoli florets and a variety of potatoes. As Y/N began placing the fruit in the cart, she heard a familiar voice calling her name.
She turned around to see a very domestic-looking Jeff Beck, pushing around a grocery cart, just like she was. It was odd to see him going about his life as though he was just an ordinary working-class man, especially being the revered guitar god he was. Y/N laughed at the sight as he came over towards her.
“Hi Jeff,” Y/N greeted, walking over to give him a hug.
“Hello darling,” he responded, tilting the girl back and forth in the hug, long arms cradling her against his chest. “How are you doing?”
Y/N looked at him with a small grin after pulling away. An exhale passes through pursed lips as she replies. “As well as I can be, I guess. How ‘bout you?”
“Can’t complain,” he smiled, which then turned a little more solemn. He reached out a hand to place on her upper arm in solace. “I’m still really sorry about Sam, love. I wish I could’ve told you, but he swore me to secrecy… and I don’t want to lose my job just yet.”
“Don’t worry about it, I completely understand. It’s not your fault.” Y/N’s chuckle chimed through the air, much like the birdsongs that seemed to fill the space around them, and she paused, “I’ve done quite a bit of soul-searching recently, and I don’t think I truly loved him...the situation was all so new and exciting, that it made me believe I did. But now, I realize I didn’t.”
“I’m glad you found the light at the end of the tunnel, kid. But that’s life, Y/N. You win some and you lose some.”
“Thank you, Jeff. Really. For being so supportive,” Y/N said in gratitude, as Jeff flashed her a toothy smile.
“Ah, don’t mention it...actually, it’s funny I ran into you because I was actually going to call you, but I… may have lost your number.” A sheepish hand ran through the short hair at the nape of his neck, and Y/N giggles at the man’s hesitancy.
“That’s okay. Here, I’ll write it down for you,” Y/N grinned as she took out a spare piece of paper and a pen from her bag, “what did you need to call me for?”
Jeff watched Y/N’s hands as she scribbled down her number. Her handwriting was neat, soft spirals decorating the ends of her letters. Playful, yet full of grace. Just like her, Jeff thought. “There’s a May Ball at Queen’s College in Oxford on the 18th, and I was wondering if you’d like to come. It’s outdoors, and it should be a nice day.”
As Y/N handed Jeff the piece of paper, he continued. “More importantly, a good friend of mine is attending, and I thought you would like to meet him. You two are pretty similar, so I think you’ll hit it off really well.”
“Do you mean that this meeting is supposed to be a sort of… romantic proposition?” Y/N tilted her head in playful confusion.
Jeff smirked. “Not necessarily. He’s friends with the rest of the guys, so it’s only fair that you meet him, since we consider you a part of our inner circle.”
Y/N grinned at his statement, shaking her head, a chuckle tumbling past her lips. “Well, for the record, Jeff, I’m retired from dating for a while,” she admitted, “the whole thing with Paul shook me up a bit, and I need time to trust again, y’know?”
“Yeah, I understand. But my friend is a nice bloke, so I don’t think you’ll have to worry too much, or put up a front. If you’re uncomfortable, of course we can—”
Charlie came running up to Y/N’s cart and placed the bags of broccoli and potatoes inside. He then stood next to Y/N to see this stranger that she was talking to. Jeff noticed the little boy who suddenly appeared next to Y/N, and smiled warmly. Pointing to the boy, and changing his voice to be a bit gentler than usual, he asked, “Who’s this, Y/N?”
“This is my little brother Charlie,” Y/N said, softly putting her hand on her brother’s back, bringing him to the forefront. Charlie widely smiled at Jeff, baring his childish grin that was missing a couple teeth. Charlie couldn't wait until they grew in, because it would “finally make him look like a real man”, as he exclaimed so often at home.
Jeff crouched down to Charlie’s level and stuck out his hand to shake Charlie’s. “Nice to meet ya, mate. I’m Jeff, a friend of your sister’s.”
Charlie’s eyes widened as he recognized who this man was. “Jeff Beck?” Charlie asked hopefully, “as in the guitar god, Jeff Beck?”
Jeff chuckled as he looked up at Y/N. “Is this the shit you’ve been feeding him?” Y/N nodded and laughed.
“There’s an ounce of truth in that statement, isn't there, Beck?”
“Yes, I’m Jeff Beck, but I’m just the lead guitarist for The Yardbirds. The guitar god title goes to Hendrix, or Scotty Moore,” Jeff explained. What a humble change of pace for Jeff, Y/N thought.
Jeff stood back up and walked with Y/N and her brother throughout the store, pushing their carts in sync and grabbing food as they went. He asked her about what she was up to musically, and she talked about how she was polishing up some Debussy and Rachmaninoff pieces, as well as fiddling around with some old Fats Domino and Everly Brothers records. Charlie and Jeff bonded over their love of cars, which made Y/N very happy.
~~~~~~~~
18th June 1966
The day of the May Ball came. Y/N was excited for the show, but she didn’t want a sour encounter with Paul to ruin her good time. Jeff had called her earlier in the week to give her instructions on what to do upon arrival, and how to access the backstage area safely.
The backstage area was a white tent with the sides covered. Inside, there were multiple long tables of different distinguished people, such as Mama Cass and Graham Nash. Alcohol and little finger foods littered the tables, served in such abundance that it seemed no one was going to see tomorrow.
Y/N walked over to where she saw her friends, and upon spotting the girl, they all waved and said their cheerful hellos. Y/N walked over to sit with them, and ended up taking a seat between Chris and Jeff, crossing her legs and folding her hands in a sophisticated manner, always the lady she was taught to be. She chose her seat at the table very carefully, sitting very far away from Paul Samwell-Smith.
As everyone chatted away, she noticed there was a tall, thin young man with short, dark wavy hair who sat down in a seat between Jeff and Keith, delicately holding a flute of champagne. He was looped back into the conversation immediately, as if he had known the band his whole life. When Y/N saw him, her heart stopped.
This new boy was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. He looked like an English James Dean; with the kind of attractiveness that anyone, male or female, completely swooned over with a single glance. This stranger could get anything he wanted at the drop of a hat, with his gorgeous looks and his graceful countenance. He had a sullen, mysterious edge to him, but he also looked gentle and sweet at the same time. He had eyes as green as a forest full of lush deciduous trees, flawlessly framed by dark, bushy eyebrows and accented by long, thick eyelashes. His nose was adorable, petite as it was, and his lips were full and pouty. His smile and laugh made Y/N melt on the inside, his perfectly straight teeth illuminating his porcelain face.
For a moment, Y/N thought she was in love. She was pulled back from her daydream quickly, though, because Jeff realized that now was the perfect opportunity to introduce his two friends.
“Y/N, this is my friend Jimmy, who I was telling you about,” Jeff said, getting Y/N’s attention. Y/N grinned as she refocused on the situation.
Jimmy turned towards Jeff when he heard his name, and that’s when he saw the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, sitting right next to Jeff. Lucky bastard.
His breath hitched in his throat upon sight of this girl. She was perfect; she looked like an actual angel. The way her hair, soft-looking and slightly wispy in the light summer wind, cascaded down her shoulders; her doe-eyes seemed to twinkle in the dimming light of day, pulling him in like the strongest of currents. Her pillowy, supple lips encased a perfect smile, slightly crooked. It was, like the rest of her, completely endearing.
It was then, looking at this beautiful woman, (Y/N… Jeff had said her name, hadn't he?) that Jimmy remembers he was taken. His girlfriend, Jackie DeShannon, was waiting for him at home, but he only had eyes for the girl in front of him, and it would stay that way, it seemed.. He had to get to know her.
Jimmy snapped out of his hypnosis in the nick of time. He softly smiled at Y/N, a smile that made Y/N’s insides lurch, holding out his hand for her to shake as he turned on the charm. “Jimmy Page,” he initiated, his voice being softer and more calming than Y/N expected.
Y/N shyly smiled at him, a dark pink flush gracing her natural complexion, as she reached out to grasp his hand. “Y/N Y/L/N. It’s so nice to finally meet you. Jeff has told me about you.”
“All good things, I hope,” Jimmy chuckled.
“Yeah, I’d say so,” Y/N beamed, a feigned contemplative look on her face.
“How do you know Jeff?” Jimmy asked, turning his body towards her, now fully invested in getting to know Y/N.
“I met him...a year ago I wanna say? Is that right, Jeff? At a Yardbirds gig at the Marquee,” Y/N asked for clarification. The last thing she wanted to do is lie about Jeff to Jimmy, even if it was something as insignificant as this. In addition, she wanted to use Jeff as a temporary crutch in the conversation. Jimmy’s beauty was making her feel shyer than she already was; she felt as if she was curling into herself.
“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Jeff intervened, “but she didn’t just meet me, she met the whole band.”
Jeff immediately noticed that the band was leaving the table to get ready to go on stage. Jimmy and Y/N didn’t even notice the table’s departure because they were so wrapped up in each other’s presence and words. Jimmy even moved a seat over to get closer to Y/N, although he said it was an attempt to “hear her better since the room was so loud of drunken buffoons”. Y/N had giggled at that, and it had sounded like music to the man’s ears. Jimmy was completely taken with her, as easy as it was to see.
“Wait, so how do you know Jeff?” Y/N asked curiously.
“I've known him since I was… gosh… thirteen or fourteen? We bonded over the guitar and blues. Indian music, too,” Jimmy grinned, taking a sip of his warming champagne.
“You play the guitar too?” Y/N gasped. Jimmy nodded his head enthusiastically.
“Oh jeez, I should’ve known! No wonder you’re tight with the Yardbirds,” she giggled.
Jimmy’s eyes twinkled at her now-flustered demeanor. “You’re okay, Y/N,” he chuckled, placing a hand gently on her forearm. Y/N felt her entire body break out into chills.
“I’m a session musician, actually,” he began, his hand lingering on the girl’s arm, for what seemed like a millennium to Y/N. “I’d hate to simplistically explain what a session musician is to someone like you if you already know what it is.” It sounded like he was holding back a bout of embarrassed laughter. “You must be quite intelligent, especially in matters of music, if Jeff has stuck by you for all this time.”
Y/N smiled bashfully. He’s so sensitive, she thought dreamily. “Yes, I know what a session musician is,” she giggled, “I’ve been a piano player all my life, so I know a thing or two about what you blokes are talking about when it comes to music.”
Jimmy’s heart began to thump a little faster as his smile widened. “Wow! That’s brilliant. Are you classically trained then?”
“Yes, but I do know quite a bit of blues numbers.”
“Oh, so you really know what you’re talking about! I have to admit, although I am a session musician, I’m not particularly good at reading music. Maybe you could teach me a few things about sight reading and we can jam some time?”
Y/N blushed as her lips pursed together in a grin. “I would love that. We’d have so much fun!” The way that Y/N’s full lips twisted together in a smile looked so damn kissable to Jimmy.
“My girlfriend was actually supposed to teach me music theory, but we never got around to it, unfortunately,” Jimmy continued.
“Ah, okay. Well, if you give me a time, date, and place, we can definitely make it work,” Y/N beamed.
“Wonderful!” An awkward, pregnant pause filled the space, and Y/N cleared her throat, unconsciously sliding closer to Jimmy. There was almost a magnetic pull to him, and Y/N was caught up in it.
“So, what’s it like being a session musician? I’m sure you get asked that all the time,” Y/N laughed.
Jimmy smiled. “It’s quite grueling, brutal at times, but I find it fulfilling. One mistake, and you’re fired, so it’s a lot of pressure.”
“Oh wow! That must be horrible to deal with.”
“Yeah, sometimes the pressure can really settle into you, but for me it dissipates once I’m in the booth. There’s three sessions a day, five days a week, so I don’t have much time for leisure. It’s been getting really dry lately since all I’m playing is rhythm guitar. I love experimentation and stretching out on lead guitar, so constant rhythm is getting quite annoying.”
“I understand where you’re coming from then, from a creative standpoint. How long have you been a session player?”
“Four years, roughly.”
“You must be quite dedicated then!” Y/N exclaimed, “who have you played with?”
“Oh gosh,” Jimmy exhaled deeply, calloused fingers raising to land on his chin. Slight stubble shadows it, and the sharp scent of aftershave wafted towards the girl. Lost in the scent, Y/N nearly missed his reply. “The Rolling Stones, The Kinks, Donovan, The Who, Petula Clark, Jackie DeShannon, Carter Lewis and the Southerners, Neil Christian and the Crusaders, Herman’s Hermits, Marianne Faithfull… just to name a few.”
“Wow! What a resumé!” she gushed, “That’s incredible. You should be so proud, Jimmy.”
“Thank you very much, love, I appreciate it.”
Suddenly, an announcer’s booming voice cut through Jimmy and Y/N’s conversation as he introduced the Yardbirds to the stage. As the five men walked on, Jimmy stood up from his chair.
“Come with me to the wings so we can see and hear them better,” he smiled, holding out his arm for Y/N to take. Y/N agreed, standing up and linking her arm with Jimmy’s as they walked in sync to the side of the stage.
The first few numbers were played perfectly, and it was clear that the audience (and even the road crew) were enchanted by the spectacle. Y/N knew from past shows that the next song would be “Train Kept A-Rollin’,” and she knew that they always knocked that one out of the park. It was always stimulating and explosive.
Jeff and Chris began the opening riff, the low E, G, and A notes thundering out of the monitors melodically. Just as Keith sang “got a train” on his cue, he fell straight backward and hit his head off Jim’s bass drum. Jimmy and Y/N’s jaws dropped in shock as a loud gasp echoed through the air from the audience. The music abruptly stopped as the rest of the band crowded around Keith’s fallen figure to see if he was alright. Murmurings of “fucking hells” were all that were spoken from the road crew as they tried to redeem the concert.
“He was drunk,” Jimmy whispered to Y/N giddily, “he was completely out to lunch and wobbling as he walked onstage.”
“I didn’t even notice,” Y/N replied quietly with a grin, “that definitely explains all the empty bottles and glasses on the table.”
Momentarily, Keith got back up and motioned for the band to restart “Train Kept A-Rollin’” and they finished the song without another mishap. The rest of the set was completed smoothly, and everything sounded sonically incredible. Jimmy and Y/N stood close together the entire time, Jimmy sneaking glances at Y/N from time to time. He lost his breath with the way her eyes were almost aglow in the fading light, and her soft-looking lips parted in childlike wonder as she watched the live music.
The Yardbirds came off the stage, begrudgingly making their way into the backstage tent, where Jimmy and Y/N had situated themselves. No one looked happy, especially Paul. Jeff had his usual stoic look, but he was rushing around for any alcoholic beverage he could find to ease his nerves after what could have been the worst possible scenario.
Everyone took a seat at the table where they were before the show. Jimmy and Y/N sat next to each other as they took in the distressed expressions of the five other men. Jeff was slumped in his chair, next to Jimmy, taking swigs of a beer he’d found. Jim and Chris just stared at the ground, drink in hand. Paul just looked royally pissed off, to the point that it almost scared Y/N. Keith, however, was still totally out of it in his drunken stupor.
“Hey, Jim,” Jeff said quietly to Jimmy, “look, you know, I’m really sorry about the gig. I’m sure you aren’t interested in joining the band now…”
“Oh no,” Jimmy chuckled, “that was amazing! Absolutely brilliant! I loved it.”
Y/N’s interest piqued as she heard their whispers of new information. “Wait! Jimmy’s joining the band? I thought there were only supposed to be five live Yardbirds,” she whispered.
Jeff leaned over Jimmy to whisper back to Y/N. “Oh yeah! I can’t believe I didn’t tell you this already. Paul is probably going to leave the group...and I think it might be sooner than we thought, especially after the whole Keith fiasco...Jimmy is going to take his place on bass, and hopefully he’ll take on dual lead guitar at some point. Then Chris will do bass,” Jeff’s eyes diverted to Paul, who was sitting with his arms crossed and face angry, staring off into space. Jimmy and Y/N followed Jeff’s line of sight mischievously.
“Oooh! Great plan,” Y/N smiled.
A little smirk creeped across Jeff’s face as he quietly counted down, “3...2...1…”
At the very prompt “1,” Paul abruptly stood up from his chair very loudly, capturing everyone’s attention.
“You know what? I’m done,” Paul exclaimed, stepping away from the chair as he pushed it in under the table.
“Woah, woah, woah!” Jim began, standing up from his own chair, “what do you mean ‘you’re done’? What the hell does that mean?”
Paul sneered at Jim. “What do you think I mean? I mean I’m done with this bullshit. I’ve had enough of the horrid travelling, not being noticed, and this drunk-off-his-ass bastard,” he exclaimed angrily, pointing at Keith.
“You need to relax, Sam,” Chris said gently, “look at everything we’ve accomplished over the last three years. You want to give that up? You’re losing your shit over one bad performance.”
“It’s been on my mind for a long time now, Chris. I fucking hate it,” Paul continued, anxiously running his hands through his hair, “and you know what? Y/N hanging around all the time has made it worse. She’s just here to be our fucking groupie. She’s only eating off our clout to be friends with famous people.” The entire table went silent, looking around nervously.
Y/N’s eyes widened at Paul’s awful accusation. “Are you serious?” she shot back coldly, “I knew you were an asshole, but I didn’t know it was this bad.”
“Oh what, you think I don’t recognize that that’s your motive?” Paul said condescendingly.
“If you think that being absolutely obsessed with you all is my sole hobby, my motive, whatever that means... you are sadly mistaken,” Y/N responded, her eyes closing to slits and her lips pressed together in disgust.
“You’re probably sleeping with Jim or Chris now for all I know!” he shouted, arms flailing in the air.
Y/N was fuming now, standing up from her own chair facing Paul. “How dare you make me seem like I’m a whore for the Yardbirds! Even if I was sleeping with Jim or Chris, that would be none of your business because you pursued me when you were fucking married, you dipshit.”
Paul’s maddening countenance grew. “You’re just an insecure little girl who needs famous musicians around her to validate her and make feel better about herself. You’re a fucking nuisance, like a gnat that just won’t fly away even when you swat at it again and again.”
Y/N gasped, the sound drowned out by the screech of metal against tile, as Jimmy stood up from his chair. He was distraught, upset at the antics between the two bitter exes, and stepped in front of Y/N to protect her from the horrible verbal blows served by Paul Samwell-Smith. Jeff beat him by a second, as he started to berate Sam for his little episode.
“You listen up, you wanker,” Jeff started, wagging his index finger in front of Sam’s face, “you’re just being a butthurt little bitch because Y/N found out that you were married. If anyone’s the whore here, it’s you. Y/N is our friend, even Jimmy’s now, and she takes care of us and makes us happy. She’s not just some whimsy, disposable groupie like the way you used her; she’s an intelligent, sweet, pretty girl who has our best interest at heart. And we have hers. You have to be a fucking idiot not to see that.”
Paul was taken aback. “I write, produce, and play bass for this group. All you do is play lead guitar. Trust me, Beck, I’m not the idiot here.”
“Well, your goddamn head isn’t screwed on straight, then,” Jimmy added, “I’ll be taking your place, thank you very much. And you will never mistreat Y/N on my watch. Ever. I’ve known her for about an hour, and she’s already absolutely magnificent.”
Y/N’s throat felt clenched, but some of the tension was relieved when she realized how protective Jimmy was being over her. As mad as she was, butterflies filled her stomach at his warm ways.
“I’m out of here! You all suck anyway. Have a nice trip to hell, all of you,” Paul said as he walked away to the road crew to get his belongings, flipping the people at the table off.
Y/N sat back down in her chair once Paul was out of sight, slouching and holding her cheeks with her hands as she blankly stared at the edge of the table. Jimmy and the four Yardbirds dragged their chairs closer to a saddened Y/N, who was determined to fight off the tears that threatened to roll down her fury-flush cheeks.
Jeff frowned at the state of his friend, starting to softly rub her cardigan-clothed back to console her. “I’m so sorry about Sam, Y/N. His behaviour was absolutely horrendous, and I can assure you, none of the things he said about you were even close to being true.”
Keith, still a bit drunk, stood up and walked over to Y/N, planting a peck on her cheek. “We’re so glad you’re here, dear. Truly. That belligerent little asshole can suck a fat one.”
A close-lipped smile found its way on Y/N’s lips. “Thanks Keith,” she chuckled.
“I’m going to go get you a cup of water, alright love?” Chris said as he stood up to walk over towards the bar.
“Thank you so much Chris,” she called after him. Chris flashed her a kind smile as he walked away.
I guess Mum and Dad were wrong...they really do care about me, Y/N thought happily, they really, truly do.
~~~~~~~~
After the May Ball was over, and the sky was growing darker with the coming evening, Jimmy and Y/N walked around the grounds of the venue together, talking about anything and everything and sharing laughs.
The lighthearted mood took a drastic shift at one of Jimmy’s followup questions.
“So, Y/N, if you don’t mind me asking, what was the whole row between you and Sam about?”
Y/N flashed a sad smile, but it quickly faded as she took a deep exhale. “Well—”
Panicked, Jimmy took this as a cue that she didn’t want to talk about it. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, I get it because of how heated it was. I’m just worried about you, is all,” he interrupted.
“No, it’s okay. Really. I trust you,” she replied with a pursed lip-smile. Jimmy returned the sentiment, internally relieved that Y/N had already seemed to take a liking to him.
“Alright, so about a year or so ago, I went to a Yardbirds gig at the Crawdaddy Club, a few months after I met the band for the first time. Paul asked me out after that show, and nobody told me he was married, so naturally, I accepted.”
“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry, love. What a shitty thing to do, especially to someone as wonderful as you,” Jimmy replied with a little flush, giving the girl a little rub on the small of her back.
Heat rippled throughout Y/N’s body at his touch. Regaining her composure, she sighed. “Thank you Jimmy. That means a lot. More than you know, actually.”
After a short silence, Y/N continued. “We went out for about eight months...and in retrospect, it now makes sense why I could never go over to his place. But anyway, I found out about it before the band played on Ready, Steady, Go in February. Keith, Jeff, Jim, and I were all talking at the front of the stage before rehearsals and it slipped.”
“Who ended up telling you?”
“Jim, but it was purely an accident.” Suddenly, all of the events that had happened between her and Jim guiltily flooded her mind. Now with Jimmy beginning to infiltrate her mind and cloud her vision, how was she supposed to genuinely enjoy the secrecy? Ah shit, she thought, here we go again.
“After the show, I confronted him about it,” Y/N continued, “and he was blaming me for our time together, a-and for ‘tempting’ him into asking me out just by being… me?”
“He seems like a right wanker, I can tell you that for sure,” Jimmy muttered, sliding his hand from its resting place on her back, to her shoulder, squeezing it lightly in solidarity. Y/N met his eyes then, tears filling her gaze, and Jimmy frowns. No one as lovely as her should be feeling this way. He smiles at her, and to Y/N, it is filled with comfort and appreciation. Some emotion… something akin to love, perhaps, lit a fire in her chest, and she looks away. The evening ambience does nothing to hide the traitorous blush that painted her cheeks.
“It’s getting quite dark out, love. How did you get here?” Jimmy asked, stealing another glance at a girl as she looked down at her ballet flats once more.
“I took the train, actually,” Y/N replied.
“Oh, so did I! Here, I’ll walk with you over to the station then.”
Y/N grinned at him. “That’s so kind of you, Jimmy. Thank you.”
“No problem, love. What’s your stop?” Jimmy asked as they began to make their way over to the station.
“St. Alban’s. How about you?”
“Epsom. I still live with my parents, I’m afraid,” he chuckled sheepishly.
“Oh, it’s okay!” she laughed with him, “so do I. It’s nice though, to still live with your parents… home-cooked meals and laundry and all. Plus sleeping in your own bed, and using your own bathroom, of course.”
“Those are very good points,” Jimmy agreed with a chuckle.
The two boarded the train once they got to the station, only waiting on the platform for a few minutes. They continued to talk all the way to St. Albans, where Y/N got off to walk home.
“Say you’ll see me again sometime soon, Y/N,” Jimmy half-asked, half-declared as she stood up to get off the train.
Y/N grinned at him. “I definitely will, Jimmy. It was so nice meeting you tonight...I loved getting to know you.”
“The feeling is mutual, love. Please stay safe and take care of yourself, okay?” he reached out his hand to grab Y/N’s, shaking it a little and smiling at her. Y/N nearly swooned at the gesture.
“I’ll try my best. You do the same as well. Have a good night!”
“Thank you, you too!” Jimmy waved as Y/N walked out the train’s doors. Her scent, a delicious mixture of vanilla with a hint of laundry detergent, lingered in the air as she passed by, weakening him both physically and his rational judgment.
He had a lot of thinking to do on the ride home.
————
Taglist: @blood-on-blood @reincarnated70sbaby
#that's the way#jimmy page#the yardbirds#led zeppelin#jimmy page fanfic#jimmy page fanfiction#led zeppelin fanfic#classic rock fanfic
41 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ocean’s Eternity
So. I’ve been thinking about the end of Obsidian Age a little too much. Basically this is the 3000 years Plastic Man spent on the bottom of the ocean. I might do a follow up to this later.
When he woke, everything was dark. There was a sensation throughout his body which felt like suffocation, and there was this... itch. All over. But it was mild. It wasn't important compared to the other, more pressing matter at hand.
He couldn't move. He couldn't see. He couldn't feel or hear or smell or taste or do anything.
Well, that's not true.
He could wait.
~~~
He was on the ocean floor, this much he knew.
~~~
He wasn't being saved. After waiting for however long he'd waited, that was becoming clear. His team was most likely all dead. That was the only scenario he could see where they didn't save him.
He was in the thick of it, that was for sure.
~~~
He was going to be stuck for a long, long time.
~~~
He mourned for his team. He would have cried if he'd had eyes, but he didn't. Not like the ocean needed any more salt water. He mourned for a lot longer than he should have, honestly. But it wasn't like there was anything else to do but sit there and be sorry.
What finally got him to stop, however, was the fact that they all probably went somewhere nice. Excuse his pun, but there was no way in Hell that the Justice League didn't go to heaven.
~~~
This couldn't be fixed.
~~~
He wasn't sure how long he'd been there. It had been a long while.
He'd taken to counting the seconds, unsure if he was anywhere near correct. No one really concerned themselves so much if the space between beats were too long or short enough. Maybe the Flash, actually. But even he didn't count the seconds.
Or maybe he did. He didn't know. He couldn't ask.
He was going crazy.
He was going very, very crazy.
He knew this. He was pretty sure crazy people weren't supposed to be so aware of their craziness. But when you are aware of nothing else but your mind, he supposed you had to be self aware.
~~~
Every once in a while, he'd have something happen to him that felt like a seizure. It was painful and sudden and sharp and he begged any gods that would listen to let him be. And maybe something out there listened. Maybe something took pity on this wretched thing on the bottom of the sea because when the seizure ended, he'd black out.
Peaceful oblivion.
~~~
He was mad. In more than one way, he was mad. He was pissed, would be the more correct term in this situation. He was mad at his team. At the Justice League. He was so, so angry. How dare they. How dare they?!
They talked shit about him. Sometimes behind his back. Sometimes to his face. They never gave him an ounce of respect. They never gave a damn.
And then they had the audacity to die and leave him there, on the bottom of the sea. Forever. With nothing to do but count the seconds which was probably wrong now that he was so worked up. Great job, Justice League, you made me lose count!
He fumed and raged and plotted and didn't scream because he had no mouth.
~~~
The itching was bad. It was really, really bad. It was so, so bad. It was the only thing he could feel. It was consuming every memory of every other sensation. He didn't remember what sunshine felt like, or the rain. He couldn't even feel the coldness or the water or the pressure that was certainly around him.
He could only feel that damned itching.
He hated it. He hated it so much.
He wanted to turn into a monster and rake his claws across the Earth, he wanted to pull up the land and have magma flow out like the world's life blood. He wanted to shriek and yell and cry and tear his brain out of his skull and slam it into the center of their planet and then maybe- just maybe- he could finally die.
Or maybe he'd infect the planet with his strange body, and then the world and everyone on it would know his pain, know this madness that crawled like a million spiders made of razor blades just under skin that wasn't there.
~~~
His dreams offered no reprieve. His dreams were too lucid, nowadays. Too much time alone in your head would make you a master at your subconscious, he supposed. Except he was still very very very crazy, and so he wasn't quite a master at anything.
But sometimes- sometimes.... his dreams weren't lucid. Maybe he wasn't even asleep when he dreamed, anymore. Maybe it didn't matter. But sometimes, his mind finally calmed, the insanity put away for a few hours, minutes, seconds, all would be soft.
His dreams, the not-lucid ones, whether he was awake or not, had a common theme.
He would be spending time with his son. Whose face, despite so much time alone and insane and in pain on the bottom of the sea, had remained clear as day.
He would be holding someone's hand, and despite how he can't remember the warmth of the sun or a fireplace or a hug, would be warm anyway.
He would be smiling, calm, and happy. He wouldn't be so alone.
When he woke, the madness usually got worse.
~~~
He was no longer mad at the Justice League. He'd finally calmed down. He was still mad, he was certain of that, but that was in the sense that he was insane. He was no longer angry at his old, dead team.
Because rational thought, something he thought had died within him, had found a way to resurrect itself. Like some shambling zombie, it crawled its way up from the bottom of his soul and started to whisper facts to him.
And he was so, so tired of being mad.
They didn't put him here. They would save him, if they were alive. They'd pull him from the depths of this dark Hell and they'd put him back together, piece by piece. They would take away the pain and the darkness and they'd give him back his sunshine and his family and his heart.
Because they were the Justice League. And they were good.
He mourned for them again, because they deserved to be remembered, even if the only thing that could remember them was the dust at the bottom of the world.
~~~
He was no longer mad. Probably. He wasn't in the best position to tell, honestly. Oh, and he means mad in the sense of insanity, this time.
He was no longer crazy.
It lost its appeal, strangely enough. If he was correct with his counting, it had been around a thousand years. Maybe more, maybe less. Maybe he was completely off. It didn't matter.
What mattered was that, even though he was sane -saner- his mind was still a wreck. In the expanse of his mind, he stood, hands on his hips. He surveyed the damage. Memories shredded, emotions lost, fear and despair and loneliness on a rampage.
He cracked his metaphorical knuckles.
It was time to start picking up the pieces.
~~~
Slowly, very slowly, he pieced together his memories. Some were beyond repair. He tried to fix them anyway. With patience and care and all the time in the world, he glued his old life back together. His name was Plastic Man, Eel O'Brian, Patrick. Huh.
He was a thief. A hero. A father.
He had a son. He remembered his son. He never forgot his son, despite it all. But his son's memory did get warped- he'd have to smooth that out.
But, he noted with no small amount of pride, he'd remembered his son's face. Not his height or his age or his voice, but he remembered his face.
He also remembered that he wasn't a very good father. That came with much less pride.
~~~
In the wake of his madness came clarity. Acceptance. He made his peace with his eternal damnation. Some sort of thousand-year long five-stages-of-grief thing. With a lot more insanity than was usually recommended.
He wasn't going to lie to himself: it sucked. There was nothing good about his situation. But there was nothing he could do, and going mad had only made things worse.
In the wake of his madness came clarity, and with clarity came the realization that he was lonely. Eternally so. He was lonely and regretful and sad. He had so many things he wanted to do. So many places to go, people to see. He had wanted so much.
He didn't know if he deserved it.
He probably did.
~~~
So he was probably still a little bit crazy. Not like before. He was, what he considered, a healthy amount of crazy.
Just enough to pass the time. Talking to yourself was never considered 'sane' anyway.
~~~
He was still counting the seconds. It helped things stay in order. He was counting in his dreams, in the deepest part of his subconscious, he counted. He had built quite the internal clock for himself, it seemed.
~~~
Sometimes, he'd stop for a while. Not counting, of course. He had probably forgotten how to stop counting. But everything else. Sometimes, everything else would stop.
His mind would be ever so slow, and nothing truly mattered in those moments. He simply existed, pieces of plastic on the ocean floor.
And it would take a while to come back. He didn't really want to go back, but he always did. And when he did, he'd laugh.
He was plastic in the ocean. He'd been polluting the waters before plastic had even been invented.
It wasn't very funny, but he'd laugh anyway.
~~~
He was in the middle of replaying a baseball game in his mind for the nth time when something happened. Another seizure. Hadn't had one of those in a while.
But something- something was off. It-
He woke up.
~~~
His thoughts were sluggish. There was- noises and- lights? Pressure. He must have really gone off the deep end now.
And he felt like a pile of mush- of goo or slime- and-
And the itching wasn't there.
The itching was always there.
And he could move.
He may have freaked out a little bit.
~~~
"Plastic Man, you need to calm down!" Superman yelled.
He snarled, "Don't tell me what to do! You're not even real!"
"We are real! Please, we need you to listen to us-" Martian Manhunter was cut off as he wrenched up a metal panel from the floor and chucked it at him. It phased through the martian, of course, but it did seem to surprise the green guy. His hallucination was very convincing, he'd admit.
The sensations being too loud and painful and too much. The light too bright, the air too fresh. He didn't even know he'd remembered how to breathe.
Suddenly, Superman was in front of his face and was- well he was petting him. It was kinda weird.
But- but his hands were warm. Not only that they had- they had texture and he could feel how tense Superman was, but as the seconds passed and he calmed, so did the tension leave Superman's hands.
"Oh." He whispered. He reached up and took Superman's hand, inspecting it. It was strong, like steel, and he could feel a pulse beat just beneath the skin.
"Oh." He said, interlocking his fingers with Superman's. He gave a light squeeze and Superman squeezed back. He looked up at the man of steel, noticing for the first time he'd shrunken back down into a reasonable size.
A pressure was draped across his back- A black cape had been wrapped around him. He looked over to see Batman kneeling beside him, a hand on his shoulder. He touched the cape on his shoulders- it was heavy and thick and made of something smooth on one side and soft on the other.
He dragged his fingers across it, reveling in the sensations.
Martian Manhunter was there too, now, and he reached out and gently touched the martian’s face. J'onn allowed him to do that, his eyes shut.
"Oh wow," He said, his voice strange to his own ears.
"...Is this real?" He asked, finally pulling away to look at his hands. They were melted slightly. His entire form was melted slightly. He was also naked. He hadn't even noticed. No wonder Batman covered him up.
"Yes." Batman said, his grip tightening like he could convince him through sheer force of will. Maybe he could.
"...Oh," He said, letting his hands fall.
He swallowed.
"Oh my God." He said, his voice cracking. He buried his head in his hands, feeling his body melt even further.
Someone hugged him. He wasn't sure who. He rested his chin on their shoulder. They put their arms around him and somehow that helped his body stay stable.
And everything was still too much and too close but it was real. It was real.
He was back.
The Justice League saved him.
~~~
He knocked on the door. He stood there, anxious. The sky was dark. It was dusk. Clouds covered up the sunset. Smog was in the air. Cars drove in the street and the wind howled overhead.
He couldn't stop staring at it all. It was real. It was real. Real in a way he'd forgotten. Real in a way his mind couldn't replicate, not in 3000 years. Though it had come very, very close.
The door opened.
"Patrick," Angel greeted, "How nice to see-"
She paused, taking him in.
"Did something-?"
"Yes." He said, his voice hoarse.
She opened the door for him, and he stepped inside.
"Where's Luke?" He asked.
"Living room." she said, "Come."
Their apartment was small. But not too small.
Luke sat on the couch, cartoons playing on the TV.
"Dad?" Luke said, brightening. He jumped up from the couch and hugged him tight. He returned the hug, stretching his arms out of his sleeves and holding his son close.
"Dad!" Luke said, pulling away, "You're back!"
"Yes." He said, "And I'm here to stay."
He turned to look at Angel.
"If that's alright...?"
"Of course." She said, smiling softly, "But I'm going to need help around the house."
He smiled at her, and nodded.
"Dad?" Luke said, weary, "What happened? You and the Justice League saved the day, right?"
"Yeah, Luke. We did." He said, "But I'm not a part of the Justice League anymore."
There was a pause. Angel sat down in a chair.
"Did they kick you out...?" Luke asked.
"No, son, they didn't. I didn't do anything wrong, either. I just-" He choked back a sob, "I can't go back."
Luke hugged him tighter.
"I love you, Luke. With all my heart." He said, failing to keep the tears at bay.
Luke nodded into his chest. He thought he could feel his shirt getting wet.
"So I'm going to stop being Plastic Man."
#plastic man#patrick o'brian#eel o'brian#jla obsidian age#obsidian age#jla#fanfic#fic#my wrtiting#fanfiction#luke o'brian#superman#batman#martian manhunter
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
it’s complicated (m)
“You are long past the point of no return. The rational part of you is screaming that this is a terrible idea, that this is bound to ruin your friendship with Tae. But you can’t find it in yourself to really care. You want him, so badly you are about to burst.”
[taehyung x reader]
genre: friends with benefits!au, eventual friends to lovers!au, a lot of angst, smut
word count: 14.4k
rating: mature
warnings: loss of virginity, toxic relationship, confused/frustrated characters, unprotected sex (10/10 don’t recommend), oral, creampie, language, mentions of alcohol
a/n: this is a reupload! i honestly wasn’t going to post this fic again, because i have so many other new ideas i want to write about, but i reread this the other day and it’s actually so good?? lol. i wrote it so long ago, but wowowow i still felt the angst in my soul. also, fyi, like all of my reuploads, i’ve changed a few things (not the overall plot tho). xoxo
It all began in tenth grade English class.
At first, Kim Taehyung seems any other kid in your class—perhaps, a little loud at times but still just a boy. But that was just until you were partnered with him on a project. Least to say, you two became fast friends once you realized how funny the guy was. He could bring a smile to your face no matter the circumstances.
This friendship between you two blossomed quickly; but soon, there’s a slight shift in the air around you both.
“Y/n,” Taehyung says your name, sprawled on your bed with you.
It’s summertime, which means days seem to drag on and on. This also means that you two have nothing better to do, choosing to lazily lounge around each other’s houses. Your parents are never home anyway since they worked, so having Tae’s company is always greatly appreciated.
But despite the lackluster summer, school starts in a few weeks and the thought is bittersweet. You are happy to be occupied again, but also sad since going back to school means you no longer get to spend so much time with Taehyung. Although you both became close at school, that doesn’t mean you’ll always get to be around each other there.
“What?” you ask, turning to look at him.
“So, this might sound a little weird…but…” he trails off. “Fuck. I can’t; it’s too weird.”
You turn so you’re lying on your side, “What is it, Tae? We’re friends, right? You can tell me anything.”
Taehyung glances at you, clearly struggling with himself.
“I-I…can I kiss you?” he asks the question so fast you think maybe you just imagined it. But when you notice that his face is beat red, you realize that you did hear him right. This causes you to flush as well, a weird sensation beginning to bubble through your body.
“Where is this coming from?” you manage to ask him.
“I don’t know,” Tae admits with a shrug.
You find yourself shifting awkwardly on the bed as silence starts to fill the room. What are you supposed to say? Taehyung is your friend; you enjoy being around him and he makes you smile. But he wants to kiss you…what is that even supposed to mean?
“You know what?” he suddenly breaks the ice. “Forget I even said—”
“Okay,” you cut him off fast, not even fully registering what you say.
Taehyung snaps his head to you, mouth dropping, “What?”
“I said okay—you, I mean, we can kiss.”
You say all of this relatively calm, despite the fact that you feel like your whole body is on fire. Tae stares into your eyes, seemingly searching for something. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah,” you gulp nervously. “I mean, this is just for fun, right?”
Something passes over Taehyung’s eyes, but you don’t catch it fast enough. The emotion fades away and you can only assume it didn’t mean anything.
“Yeah…fun,” he says, licking his bottom lip.
Unintentionally, your eyes travel down to his plump lips and you can’t seem to look away. Has he always had such nice lips? You find yourself asking all these questions that you don’t even notice how close Tae has gotten to you, merely inches away. His breath gently fans across your face and the reality of the situation hits you. This is going to be your first kiss…ever. And to say you are freaking out would be an understatement. It’s not that you so much oppose the idea of kissing, you just haven’t met the right guy.
Looking into the eyes of your friend, you feel warmth flood your cheeks. “Tae…”
He blinks, “Yes?”
“Have you ever kissed someone?” The question rolls off your tongue.
Instead of answering your question, Tae does something else you don’t expect. Of course, you know it was going to happen eventually, but the action simultaneously takes your breath away and surprises you.
He kisses you.
Your eyes close on their own accord, reveling at how soft his lips are as they cover yours. A part of you almost can’t believe that you’re kissing him—Kim Taehyung; your friend, the boy you do everything with. What’s most unbelievable is that you actually like kissing him.
As the kiss becomes deeper, you feel yourself being pushed against the bed; Tae’s body covering half your own. You open your mouth a little wider, letting his tongue press against your own. His hands are now on each side of your body, slightly tangled in your hair. After a while you pull away, gasping for air.
“Oh my god,” you mutter breathlessly, blowing some air out of your mouth.
Taehyung is still above you.; and when you look into his eyes, you almost jerk away. “Y/n…”
“Hmm?” you ask, shy all of the sudden.
And then it hits you—he probably thinks your unexperienced ass is a bad kisser. This thought makes you feel like a total fool. It’s just flat out embarrassing because you surprisingly liked kissing him and he thought you—
“Can I kiss you again?”
You almost fall off your bed. “What?”
He lowers his head until his hair brushes your face, “I’d like to kiss you again…”
At his words, you can feel your whole body flush from a mixture of relief, excitement, and embarrassment.
“So…I’m not a bad kisser?” you find yourself asking.
Tae snaps his gaze to you, “What would you think that?”
“I-I,” you feel your ears getting hot, “I don’t know. I just thought that since…you know…I’ve never kissed someone, I probably sucked.”
Before you can explain yourself some more, he captures your lips again—effectively silencing you. This kiss is a lot quicker than the first one, but it leaves you just as dizzy and at a loss for words.
“You’re great,” he says, a cheeky smile gracing his face. You can’t help but return the smile since his is just so contagious.
The rest of this day is spent with more so-called just-for-fun kisses. The highly rational part of you claims that this is all normal—that making out with your friend is completely fine; but the emotional part of you knows that everything will never be the same��that making out with your friend is sure to have its consequences.
***
When school starts again, you almost forget about Taehyung’s kisses.
The keyword is: almost.
In your busy school schedule, you manage to somehow snag a free period. It’s a godsend, especially since you needed a study hall period to balance all the homework you had. Since it was a free period, you can spend the hour anywhere in the school. And you end up choosing one of the back corners of the library where the reference books are.
No one ever comes to this part of the library anyway, except for the librarian but that was rare. So, it’s nice and quiet. You spend the first few days of study hall doing what study hall is supposed to be used for—studying and completing homework. But as the end of the first week rolls around, you discover that study hall might not be so quiet anymore.
This particular day of study hall starts off normal. You arrive at the library, which is pretty much empty except for a few scattered students here and there, and make your way to the corner you’ve pretty much claimed as your own. When you reach that part of the library, you set your things down and pull out your homework. Just as you start the fifth problem on your calculus worksheet, someone suddenly covers your eyes.
You let out a scream, but it’s muted by a hand. You begin to furiously kick and you turn around, prepared to fight. And just as you bring your hands up, your eyes regain their sight and you see who is responsible for the unexpected attack.
“Taehyung!” you scream, and he covers your mouth again.
“Be quiet, y/n!” he reprimands. “Don’t you know this is a library?”
With his hand still over half your face, you roll your eyes. When he finally removes his hand, you roughly shove the boy. “What the fuck, Tae?!”
“What?” he asks rather innocently.
“What?” you mock. “Why did you have to do that? Can’t you see I’m busy?”
He just shrugs and takes a seat beside you, “I just wanted to surprise you, that’s all.”
You return your attention back to your worksheet, ignoring him. You manage do a few more problems before Tae speaks again. “Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m here?”
You don’t even look up. “I honestly don’t care.”
“I mean, are you not the least bit curious as to why I’m not in class right now?”
“No, I don’t care why you’re not—” you snap your head up. Holy shit. “Why aren’t you in chemistry?”
The moment you two received your schedules, you compared classes. Unfortunately, you both wouldn’t share any classes together until after winter break. And while you had your free period, Taehyung was supposed to be in chemistry…so, why is he here in the library?
When he doesn’t respond, you freak out a bit, “Oh my god, Tae! Why are you skipping class? Your teacher is going to be so—”
Taehyung interrupts you by suddenly placing a chaste kiss in your lips. You’re struck speechless for a moment, completely caught off guard.
“I switched my class,” he says with a smile.
“Why did you do that?”
“So I could do this for a whole hour,” he says, then places another kiss on your lips.
You laugh at his words, “You know we can’t actually do that, right? I really need this study hall to do homework.”
He absentmindedly waves his hand, “Yeah, yeah—you can do that too, I guess.”
“Are you serious though? You really changed your class just to come here and make out with me?” As you ask your questions, you are just teasing him. But at the same time, a smidge of you feels a bit dejected if all he wants to do is kiss you.
Not that you didn’t like kissing Taehyung, because all the kissing you two had been doing is great, but it made your relationship seem superficial if that was the only reason.
“Of course not,” he assures you. “I also really just want to spend time with you too. To go from spending every day together to practically not seeing each other is weird.”
“Agreed,” you smile. “How did you find me anyway?”
It was a logical question. Although Tae did know before that you had study hall, you never told him where exactly you spent your days.
“I just followed you from your last class,” he says like it’s nothing, but your eyes widen.
Another what the fuck leaves your mouth as you stare at your friend, “You’ve been in here the whole time?”
“I mean, I had to find where you were somehow,” he tells you. “By the way, you walk so damn fast.”
You roll your eyes at the boy, not understanding him at all. Even though he had unconventional ways of doing things, in the end, he still made you smile. For the rest of the hour, you somehow find the time to finish your math worksheet in-between the kisses that Taehyung keeps giving you. When the bell rings, signaling the end of the hour, you begin to back up your things.
“Where you headed to now?”
You look at Tae and tell him where, even though he knows the answer already, “English. You?”
Health. “Health.”
“Well, I hope you enjoy that…”
“The teacher isn’t that bad,” he smiles as you give him a look.
“He’s terrible,” you say. “End of discussion.”
Taehyung picks up his bag, smile still ever present, “Just because you didn’t make an A—”
“End of discussion.”
You sling you backpack around your back and begin to walk away. But before you can even get far, something pulls you back. You land right onto Taehyung’s chest; being this close to him, you can feel the slight muscle definition under his flimsy uniform and warmth pools in your chest.
“What?” you ask, turning around.
“Have a good rest of your day,” he says. “See you here tomorrow?”
Nodding, you open your mouth to respond, only to be interrupted by Tae’s kiss that he gives before dashing away. He leaves you alone scattered brain and at a loss for words.
“…See you,” you say once your brain can finally function again. “Tomorrow.”
***
Afternoons spent in the library become something you look forward to everyday.
Even though it’s only an hour, it’s an hour you cherish with Taehyung. Some days, all you do is homework—completely ignoring the poor boy who simply wanted your attention; and other days, you two talk and talk and talk about anything and everything. There is never a dull, quiet moment between you two. There is always something to be shared; to be told.
Because of this, your admiration for the boy grows more and more each day.
You are captivated by the stories he tells you in that vacant part of the library. From the way his animated eyes light up to the wide curve of his boxy grin, an hour never feels long enough. As he tells you his stories, all you can do is stare and smile. You’ve only known Taehyung for a few months, but it feels like you two have been friends forever.
…Friends who kiss, a little voice in your head always likes to remind you.
Kissing. You two are doing that quite a lot now. Every chance he has, he plants his lips on to yours. The action makes you swoon and confused all at the same time. You just don’t get it. It’s not that you don’t enjoy all the kissing, but it’s confusing. Does Taehyung like you? Or does he not? And it’s that you want to be with him, as his girlfriend…though perhaps a small part of you does, but you want him to be clear about his relationship with you.
And that clarification never comes.
Tae continues with the kisses, and you just learn to accept the fact that maybe your friend just likes to kiss you. It get to the point where you no longer even question or become surprised when the action appears out of nowhere.
But little do you know that this is just the beginning of something tragic.
***
In the blink of an eye, the fall semester ends.
You and Taehyung rejoice as you both finish it rather decently; getting good marks in all of your classes. Celebrations are in the making, but a spontaneous trip from your parents brings all plans to a halt.
“You’re going where?” Taehyung asks you, eyes wide and mouth parted.
“To spend the holidays with my aunt who lives in the States,” you repeat, not able to look him in the eyes.
You two have been laying in his bed playing video games, until you dropped the bomb on him. And it’s not like you’ve known about the trip for a while, you just found out from your parents yesterday. Honestly, you hadn’t planned to do much during break. If anything, you just wanted to spend time with Tae and catch up on sleep. But then your parents surprised you, and you couldn’t say no.
“B-But…that’s an entire ocean away.”
You look at the boy who has easily become your best friend, “I know—and it’s not like I really want to go, but I haven’t seen my aunt in a while. Plus, my parents already bought me the ticket and—”
“It’s okay,” he cuts your explanation off, a strained smile encasing his face. “You enjoy visiting your aunt.”
“Tae…” you know he’s probably really mad.
He only shakes his head “No, really, it’s not like we didn’t already makes plans to hang out or anything.”
“Taehyung,” now you find yourself getting mad. “Stop.”
“I’m just bummed, y/n. What am I supposed to do during break now?”
You shrug, “I don’t know. Go to a party, get drunk, and maybe kiss a few girls.”
As you say the last part, your heart starts hammering in your chest. You don’t even know why you said it at all since you can’t even begin to imagine it happening. Just the thought of another girl kissing Tae makes you green with jealously. But you know you don’t even have the right to feel such things; you aren’t his keeper.
You wait for him to respond, but he doesn’t say anything.
“I was joking,” you attempt to laugh, but it sounds forced. “But really—have fun. You don’t need me for that.”
And that’s when he gives you a look that nearly paralyzes you. His gaze is filled with so many emotions you can’t decipher, and it travels down to your core. He stares at you for so long you feel your blood pressure start to spike.
“I guess,” he says in a lower voice. You don’t know what else to say, so silence begins pooling in his room. It becomes too much to handle so you get off the bed.
“I should go,” you say, awkwardly getting your things. “I still have to pack.”
“Are you leaving tomorrow?” Taehyung doesn’t even look at you; instead, he stares at the ceiling.
You’re about to nod, but then catch yourself. “Yeah, I am.”
“When do you get back?”
Hesitation gnaws at your lips, “The day before school starts again.”
You search your friends face for a sign—any sign—but he’s completely passive. A sigh leaves you lips as you back out of his room. When you reach the door, you stop and brace yourself against it.
“I’m sorry,” you apologize for reasons you don’t even really understand. But Tae is still in the same position and doesn’t even glance your way. You sigh again before muttering a soft goodbye and leaving.
The entire time you’re away, you don’t get a single message or phone call from him.
It wouldn’t have affected you so much if you knew why. Obviously, Taehyung is mad at you, but you didn’t know the reason. And the boy has never been angry at you before; so you don’t know how to deal or how to make it better.
Even though you don’t know why he hasn’t tried to contact you, it doesn’t stop you. When you landed in the States, you texted him. On Christmas Eve, you called three times. On Christmas day, you called and left a ridiculously long voicemail—along with a few extra texts as well. Despite these efforts, you get nothing; you don’t even know if he’s reading these texts because he doesn’t have his read receipts on.
So, a few days before New Year’s, you decide to go home early. You don’t want to end the year on a bad note with Tae, and you also don’t want to start the year off not speaking. Somehow, you manage to get back the afternoon of New Year’s Eve. And the second you get home, you go to his house.
Knocking on the front door like a maniac, you pray that he hadn’t taken your advice and decided just to lounge around his house over break. Your heart is beating erratically as his mom answers the door.
“Oh, hi y/n,” she greets you with a warm smile. “How was your trip?”
“Hey, Mrs. Kim; it was good. Is Taehyung home?” you cut right to the chase.
But disappointment begins to fill you when her smile falters, “I’m sorry, y/n; he’s actually hasn’t been home all day.”
You nearly fall to the ground at her words. “What? Do you know where he is?”
“I’ve tried calling him, but he hasn’t answered. I guess he didn’t know you were coming home?”
“Yeah, I wasn’t supposed to be home for another few days,” you admit, and his mother nods. “I-I just couldn’t…I mean…I just…I missed him.” Saying the words out loud brings a weight off your shoulders, but also makes your chest ache.
“He’s missed you too,” she says, smiling again. “He’s been sulking around the house this entire month—I think today’s the first day he’s been out.” They do say that mothers know best, so knowing that Taehyung missed you makes your heart soar high.
“Do you have any idea where he might be?” desperation laces your words.
Mrs. Kim shakes her head, “He has old friends, but I don’t think he’s talked to them since meeting you.”
Why is this so difficult? You continue your conversation with his mom to think about the boy’s whereabouts, but soon realize how late it’s gotten. You figure that you should probably just go home. So, feeling a bit defeated, you wish his mom a Happy New Year and walk back to your house.
On the way there, you run through various places he might be. You try to think back to before you left—to the plans you two made together. Did he mention anything in particular that he wanted to do? You replay old conversations and then it suddenly hits you like a freight truck. Quickly, you whip out your phone and call Yoon, one of your childhood friends.
After three rings, she picks up, “Hello? Y/n…?”
“Hey…” you trail off.
On the other end, you can hear a heavy bass thumping, “Well, I haven’t heard from you in a while.”
You tell her that you can’t hear anything she’s saying, so she moves somewhere quieter and repeats her words. You can’t help but roll your eyes at her petty tone. “Like you even have time for me. You and your boyfriend are always—”
“So, what’s up?” she cuts you off and you laugh a bit.
“Where are you?”
“At a party at Jay’s house, why?”
Bingo. “Thanks, that’s all I needed to know.”
“Woah,” you hear her say, “is little miss goody-two-shoes going to make an appearance?”
“We’ll see,” you tell her.
After hanging up, you run the rest of the way home. The party Yoon was at was hosted by the one and only Jay. He’s a senior at your school and notorious for his parties. They are the best, but exclusive to upper-classmen—juniors and seniors only. Everyone couldn’t wait until they were promoted to those grades.
The one thing you remember Tae saying was that he wanted to attend one this year—that’s where he has to be tonight.
***
As you walk up the steps to Jay’s elaborate mansion, it was beyond huge, you feel your nerves twist up in a bundle. You figured that since this is a party, albeit a New Year’s Eve party, you should probably look somewhat nice—just so you kind of blend in. You opt for a black dress that hugs whatever curves you do have and your basic strappy heels. Hopefully no one’s going to question you.
When you reach the door, you’re surprised to find that it opens easily. Walking in, you’re blown away by the sheer amount of people. You thought that since the house is so big, there would be room inside. Wrong. People are packed wall-to-wall.
As soon as the door shuts behind you, you see Yoon standing not too far from you. Relief fills you at the sight of a familiar face. You call out her name and she, thankfully, hears, turning around to your direction.
“Y/n!” she exclaims, running up to you. “You look sexy!”
You feel a blush creep onto your face, “Thanks?”
“Who you dressing up for?”
“I’m just trying to blend in,” you say, brushing a few strands of hair away from your face. “But can you help me find someone?”
“So, there is someone,” she wiggles her brows. “Who?”
“Taehyung,” you say his name all too fast.
“As in Kim Taehyung?” Yoon raises a brow. “Is he that guy you’ve been hanging out with?”
“What other Taehyung is there? Have you seen him? I think he’s supposed to be here. God I hope—”
Yoon places a hand over your mouth, “Clam down, tiger. I’ll ask one of Jay’s friends—they know everybody.”
You watch as she walks away from you and to a guy a few feet away. She whispers something in his ear and he nods, whispering something back. Yoon seems pleased with the answer and comes back to you.
“So?” you ask impatiently.
“They say he’s here,” you immediately brighten up, feeling like a genius for guessing his location right, “but they don’t know where exactly he is.”
Your eyes automatically begin searching the room, “That’s okay; I’ll find him. Thanks again Yoon.”
Before Yoon can say anything else, you’re lost in the crowd of sweaty people. As you walk through the crowd, your eyes desperately search for his. This is going to be impossible—there are so many people here. You walk through the numerous living areas and even the kitchen, but there’s no sign of Tae anywhere.
After a while, you check the time and see that it was an hour until midnight; an hour till the start of the New Year. And you’re on the verge of going back home. The feeling of jet lag is starting to weigh you down as the adrenaline begins to drain away. The flight back home was long, and you couldn’t really sleep due to the anticipation of everything that awaited you here.
You are now walking down some hallway, the music of the party booming behind you. The sense of direction’s completely loss to you—you have no idea where you were. But just as you’re about to reach the end of the hall, someone comes up behind you.
They grab ahold of your body and drag you into an open room. You scream, kicking your attacker. You try to fight the person, but they’re no match for your puny self. On the verge of tears, you’re about the give up when the person finally speaks, “Y/n…”
You freeze. You would know that voice anywhere. “Tae?”
The attacker lets you go and you slowly turn around, shocked to see the face of your friend. But the shock soon fades into something strange when you take in his appearance—the boy actually looks nice. His hair is disheveled in that messy, but put together, way and his clothes sexily cling against him. You feel your mouth drop open, but you pick it up just as quickly as it falls.
Suddenly, you push him, and he stumbles, “What the hell?”
“Why do you always feel the need to sneak up on me? Asshole,” you cross your arms.
He cracks a smile, “You’re just fun to mess with.”
“It’s not fun for me, you jerk. I was seriously freaked out.”
Taehyung softens at your words, “I’m sorry; I just wanted to surprise you.”
And that’s when you remember why you’re even here at all. You suddenly feel awkward, not knowing where to look.
“Why…why didn’t you return any of my calls?” you ask him, staring at the floor. “I mean, I know you’re mad. But you couldn’t text me back?”
You sneak a look at him, and find that he’s staring intently at you.
“And like, I don’t even know why you’re mad at me. What did I do wrong? Was it because I went away? Or was it something I did? I just—”
Tae cuts you off with a kiss that causes you to nearly trip on your own feet. The kiss is intense and you feel him back you against the wall, encasing your body with his. You haven’t kissed him in nearly a month; you’ve forgotten how it feels like, how alive he makes you feel.
His hands begin traveling up your body, each touch igniting a fire inside of you. He stops when he reaches your face, his long fingers roughly cupping your cheeks. You bring your own hands to tangle in his hair and gently tug him closer to you. His starts to rub little circles on your cheeks, while simultaneously prodding your mouth further open. You oblige and feel his tongue massaging yours.
Suddenly, you let out a moan as Tae presses his body right onto yours. Despite the layers of clothing between the two of you, you can still feel the body heat coming off of him. At your moan, he freezes for a moment before kissing you back with much more force. He pulls the two of you away from the wall and you both fall onto a bed.
The dress you’re wearing begins to ride up, but you don’t care at all; you just want to be closer to him, needing to be closer to him. You pull away from his lips to breathe and he takes that opportunity to latch his lips onto your jaw, slowly moving down your neck. Another moan leaves your lips and you try to think, but your mind is complete mush right now.
All you can do is lay there as Tae begins to suck on your neck. Although you two had kissed multiple times before, things have never gone this far.
“Tae…” you say a bit breathlessly, his finger now pushing the straps of your dress down. He mutters something incoherent, mouth on the swells of your breast. “What are we doing?”
He stops, raising his head, “I’m worshiping your body, what else?”
You redden as his comment.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asks, a brow raised. When you simply shake your head, his lips travel back to your chest.
Without even realizing it, you start to move your hips against his. A pleasurable pressure starts building up and you whimper at the feeling. Taehyung stop his assault on your skin, eyes now looking into yours. As he stares at you, his fingers play with the zipper on the side of your dress.
“This dress is awfully pretty on you,” he licks his lips. “But I think it’ll look prettier on the floor, don’t you think?”
And faster than you can even comprehend his words, the dress is unzipped from your body and you’re left half-naked in your underwear. Impulse kicks in and you try to cover your body at the sudden lack of coverage. But Tae takes your arms, pinning them above your head.
“So beautiful,” he muses, eyes darkening.
You writhe underneath him, not liking the fact that you’re nearly naked while he’s still completely clothed. When you tell him this fact, he releases your arms and begins to unbutton his shirt. You can’t help but stare at his golden skin and his broad shoulders. He reaches for the waistband of his pants, unbuttons it, and then tugs the fabric down his legs.
Tae smirks at your obvious staring and leans down to kiss you again. The rest of your clothing, or whatever was left, comes off and you’re both left completely exposed to each other. Now without all the clothes between you two, you can feel every ridge of his body and desire threatens to burst out of your body.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asks you again, resting his forehead against yours.
You shake your head, “No.”
“Are you sure?” his eyes search your face. “Because if we start, I-I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”
Grabbing his face between your hands, you kiss him, “I’m sure.”
You are long past the point of no return. The rational part of you is screaming that this is a terrible idea, that this is bound to ruin your friendship with Tae. But you can’t find it in yourself to really care. You want him, so badly you are about to burst.
Even though you assure Tae that you want this, he still hesitates above you. As he rolls a condom on, you lightly kiss his jaw and tell him that you’re okay. But although you say this, you feel your body tense as he nears your entrance. This is your first time after all, and you realize Taehyung is becoming a lot of your firsts. When he finally enters you, you scrunch up your face from the initial discomfort. “Ow.”
“Shit,” you hear Tae mutter, stopping halfway.
“It’s okay,” you bite your bottom lip. “Keep going.”
He pushes the rest of the way, “You’re so fucking tight.”
You still feel a sense of discomfort, especially since Tae’s large size fills you up to the brim. Despite this, you tell him to keep moving in hopes that maybe the awkwardness will fade into something better. And a few thrusts in, it does feel better—a lot better.
Tae’s pace is still rather slow, but the pleasure starts to build up and he drops his head into the crook of your shoulder. You moan for him to go faster but he doesn’t, probably due to the fear of hurting you.
So you tighten your legs around him, “Tae—harder, faster.”
Something in him snaps and his thrust become shorter, but quicker. The force causes your eyes to roll back and you cry out at how good it feels, “Fuck.”
He groans your name, one hand roughly digging into your hips. It all feels so good, and you’re surprised by how vocal you are—a moan always seems to be leaving your mouth. But you don’t care at all if anyone hears. You continue to moan as you feel your peak building. Sweat rolls down both of your backs, and you can feel Tae’s thrusts getting sloppy.
“Ohmygod,” you say in a single breath. “I’m gonna—”
And just as you’re about to say the words, waves of ecstasy crash down on you. You cry out Taehyung’s name, the feeling completely indescribable. He continues to ride out your high before reaching his own. After he releases, he falls on top of you and presses a gentle kiss on your neck. You both don’t say anything for a few moments, still trying to catch your breaths.
“Are you okay?” Tae is the first to speak. He mumbles this question into your neck.
You nod your head, “Yeah…are you?”
“I’m…good. Better than good, actually,” he raises his head, smiling. “You’re beautiful, y/n.”
You blush at his words, not knowing how to respond.
“But, you are quite loud though,” he says. “I’m sure the entire house heard us.”
He laughs and you push him away, forgetting that he’s still inside of you. You both moan from the loss of contact, feeling sort of empty now. Once he’s away from you, you remember just how naked you are and rush to pull the blankets over your body. But you wince a few times due to the soreness you feel.
“What are you doing?”
“Covering myself,” you say once the sheets are pulled all the way up to your chin.
“I just saw you completely naked though,” Tae laughs.
You raise a brow, “And?”
“And?” he repeats. “And you shouldn’t have to cover yourself.”
“Let me live, Tae.”
“Why’d you come back early?” his sudden question throws you off a bit.
You look at him, seeing genuine curiosity in his eyes, “I just wanted to see you.”
“Really?” he looks shocked.
“Yeah,” you feel embarrassed now. “I just…didn’t want to end the year on the bad note or start the year off with you hating me.”
His gaze softens, “I don’t hate you. I was just frustrated. You’re my best friend, and you leaving felt like you were betraying me.”
“Stupid,” you say.
“Okay, so maybe I was,” he rolls his eyes. “But speaking of the New Year…”
He searches for something amongst the clothing items scattered on the floor. You have to force yourself not to look at him as he bends down to put his clothes back on. As he looks for whatever he’s looking for, you search for your own clothes and do the same. Once he jumps back on the bed, his phone is in his hand. He presses the home button and smiles.
“It’s 11:59; make a wish!” he says and you quickly shut your eyes. But before you can even fully think of something, he crashes you into a hug, planting a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Happy New Year, y/n!”
You smile, “Happy New Year, Kim Taehyung.”
“Thanks for being the best. Forgive for being an ass and not calling back,” he says, still hugging you tightly. “Friends still?”
“The best of friends,” you’re still smiling, but it’s forced. You feel your face tremble, your hands shaking a bit as you cling onto him. A sudden, lone tears falls down your face.
Best friends. Just friends.
As you utter the words in your head, your heart sinks deeper and deeper.
***
As the years roll by, you’ve come to terms that the relationship you have with Tae has morphed into a friends with benefits ordeal. It’s that kind of situation because no one knows what you two are doing—no one but you and Tae. Everyone continued to believe that you both were just best friends, but behind closed doors you two were fucking. A lot.
At first, you were hesitant to accept that this was to be your reality. You didn’t want to be a friend that he fucked; you wanted to be more or nothing at all. But you couldn’t lose the boy; he was a part of your life and you needed him. And it just so happened to be via this relationship.
But that’s not the only thing.
Since you two weren’t exclusive, and no one knew, it meant you technically could date other people—which you guys did. Initially, you were green with envy. You didn’t like the idea that he was being intimate with other girls who weren’t you. But you realize it was foolish to think that since you were doing the same thing.
During senior year, you dated someone just because you felt obligated to. Also, Tae was in a relationship as well so you needed the distraction. You were intimate with the guy, but he wasn’t Tae. And you hated yourself for thinking that.
You also hated yourself even more for always caving into Kim Taehyung. No matter the situation, you could never say no to him. You ended up having to break up with that particular boyfriend of yours since you cheated on him one too many times.
When it was time to go to college, it was the only logical choice for you both to attend the same school. You needed Taehyung just as much as you needed air to breath. The application period was nerve-wracking because you were scared that you two wouldn’t get into the same schools. But by some miracle, you did.
College was honestly a blur. Because of your friendship with Tae, it was hard to stay in relationships with other guys. You tried to date other people but it never felt the same. No one else knew your body as well as Tae. He knew exactly what you liked, and exactly how to do it.
It was frustrating.
There were many times you wanted it to end, but Taehyung would just show up right back at your door and your selfish self let him right back in. It was a never-ending cycle. And in all honesty, it was a toxic relationship. No one should be so caught up with someone they weren’t dating, and yet here you two were—a terrible exception.
You were always terrified that people would find out about you and Tae’s secret, especially your parents. What would they even say? As much as they loved Tae, you were sure that they would be disappointed. They would be probably be most unhappy about the fact that you ruined so many potentially great relationships over a boy who didn’t even love you.
At least, not in the way you deserved to be loved.
“Do you love me?” you randomly asked one day.
Perhaps it was the sexual high that messed with your brain, but you’re not sure why you decided to ask him the big question. Tae was still breathing hard beside you, recovering from the sex you two just had.
“Of course,” he breathed out, “you’re my best friend.”
You heart sank a little, “So, like, that friend-love then?”
“Why are you even asking?” he turned to the side, facing you.
“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Just curious, I guess.”
But you did know. Despite it all being no-strings-attached, you started to feel a little too attached.
You weren’t sure when it occurred, but you suddenly started noticing the little things. Even though you had known Tae for years, you never realized how fond you were of everything he did. Of all the people in the world, you didn’t understand why it had to be him. He didn’t love you beyond a friend, and he probably would never feel anything more for you. So, why did you continue to let him fuck your brains out? You didn’t have an answer to that.
After college, you tried to stop seeing Tae all together, but the boy was so damn persistent. He just didn’t know how to leave your life. It was like he was torturing you; dangling you on a minuscule rope that hovered above an ocean. But despite the torture, every time you saw him, your heart grew more and more for him. It was a strange feeling honestly; being so incredibly fond of someone, but also wanting to be far away from them.
Every night, you wondered why life turned out to be this way for you—stuck in an unrequited, friends with benefits relationship. As you thought these things, you couldn’t help but realize how fucked up it all was.
A part of you wished that you had never decided to come home early that New Year’s Eve so long ago. If you hadn’t come home, you wouldn’t have called Yoon. If you hadn’t called her, you wouldn’t have gone to Jay’s stupid house party. If you hadn’t gone to that damn house party, you wouldn’t have let Tae fuck you for the first time. If that night would’ve never happened, you wouldn’t be here questioning everything.
But would that have really changed anything?
***
You down another shot glass.
A friend from work invited you out to her birthday party, and you figured it would be an intimate affair since she was rather quiet. She also told you to bring a plus-one, so you dragged Taehyung out too because you figured you needed someone to talk to. Instead of a small party, you found yourself in a club filled with many people. And you are now alone, your plus-one nowhere to be found.
The moment you two entered the club, Tae wandered from your side. Out of the two of you, he has always been the more social one; making friends everywhere he went. You managed to find the friend who invited you, but you didn’t get to talk long—like you had predicted earlier—and simply ended up at the bar.
“Did you want another one?”
You look at the bartender, eyes slightly narrowed, “What do you think?”
“I was just asking,” he says, wiping the inside of a glass. “I mean, you’ve had a few.”
You take the briefest moment to do a once over of the bartender, and you smile a little to yourself—he’s kind of cute. Even though you swear you only stare at him for a second, he catches you and pink tinges your cheeks.
“I wasn’t looking at you, I swear,” you say, looking anywhere but at him.
He just laughs, “It’s okay; it’s not every day a pretty girl stares at me with drool forming at the corner of her mouth.”
You widen your eyes, “I was not drooling!”
“Kidding,” he smiles, and you feel your heart warm just a bit. “What’s your name? I’ve never seen you here before.”
“Y/n, and I’m only here for a birthday…though it’s quite obvious I’m not really participating. What’s your name?”
“Hoseok,” he says, and you repeat it in your head a million times.
A smile forms on your lips, “Nice to meet you.”
As am easy conversation forms between you and Hoseok, you can’t help but laugh at everything he says. It feels nice to laugh, especially since it feels like you haven’t done so in a long time. In this moment, you feel kind of glad you decided to come out tonight.
“So, about that drink,” Hoseok asks, face close to yours.
“I’d love another—”
Before you can finish your sentence, you feel a sudden presence behind you.
“I believe she’s fine.”
You turn around, eyes meeting Tae’s. “What are you doing?”
Instead of saying anything, he just grabs your wrist and pulls you off your stool.
“Tae!”
With his free hand, he reaches inside his pocket and pulls out a few bills. He throws them on the counter, telling the Hoseok to keep the change. You struggle against his hold, not understanding why he’s doing this—you really wanted another drink and you wanted to talk to the cute bartender some more. And the last thing you wanted was to deal with Kim Taehyung.
He drags you both through the club, past masses of people. You’re not able to break free until he slips the two of you outside. As the door shuts behind you, a chill from the night hits you and you curse yourself for not bringing a jacket.
But even though you’re cold, a flash of anger heats you up momentarily, “What the hell, Taehyung?”
Rarely do you ever call him Taehyung to his face. At the sound of his full name being used, his mouth tightens and he looks at you. “I should be asking you that.”
“Oh my god,” you roll your eyes. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“Why were you flirting with the bartender?” he asks, eyes narrowing.
You cross your arms over your chest, “The bartender has a name, and it’s Hoseok.”
“So you guys are on a first name basis?”
“He asked for my name, and I was not flirting with him,” you say. “We were just talking.”
“Hmm…I guess we have different versions of talking then; I don’t recall talking including his face being two inches away from yours,” Tae practically yells, and you can’t believe this is actually happening.
“Like you’re one to talk! I saw you walk away from me when we got here to go talk to girls, you hypocrite.”
He scoffs, “I was not talking to girls.”
Just recently, there’s something off in your friendship; a loose screw. For some reason, you two are fighting a lot more; finding the dumbest things to pick out and argue about. Also, Tae has picked up a habit of being overprotective. It makes no sense why he suddenly feels the need to act in such a way.
“Seriously, you need to chill out,” you tell him, not understanding why he’s being so unreasonable.
“You should take your own advice.”
“Maybe I will,” you sigh, turning around and walking away from him.
You only make it a few steps before an arm pulls you back, “Where are you going?”
“Didn’t you say for me to take my own advice? Well, I am; which means I’m leaving,” you say before pushing him away and walking again.
“Y/n,” he says your name, but you don’t care to stop. “Y/n.”
You throw up a middle finger, still walking down the street.
“Fuck. Stop it, you idiot. Let me just drive you home.”
“No,” is your immediate response, but you doubt that he can hear you. All you really want to do right now is take off all the damn makeup you are wearing and sleep.
“Y/n,” Tae repeats, “I’m sorry. Please stop. You’re angry at me, I know, but let me just drive you. I’d hate for you to walk home. It’s dangerous and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Stopping halfway down the street, you look over your shoulder. Even under the dim lighting of the streetlights, you can see the sincerity in his eyes. You walk back to him, nod, and then walk to his car. The whole ride to your apartment, you two don’t speak. Instead, soft music from the radio fills the silence. Aside from not talking to him, you also angle your body away from him; you choose to look out the window, watching the night come alive.
When he stops in front of your building, you quickly unbuckle yourself and get out of the car. You practically run to your door, not wanting to let Tae say a single thing to you. And, thankfully, he doesn’t. As you lock your front door behind you, you look out through the little peephole and see that he hasn’t left yet. Shockingly, it takes him a few minutes to leave; when he does finally drive off, you sink to your knees.
***
The next evening, someone knocks at your door.
At first, you’re hesitant to open the door since you didn’t plan on anyone coming over. When you check to see who it is, your eyes widen. Unlocking the door, you shift awkwardly on your feet, “Tae? What are you doing?”
In front of you, he stands with a bag of takeout, your favorite, and a bottle of wine.
“I brought food,” he says, pushing past you to walk inside. He leaves you standing at the door confused.
“Why?” you follow him into your small kitchen, crossing your arms over your chest.
Tae looks at you and raises a brow, “I can’t come over and bring food?”
You don’t respond because he knows why you’re questioning him. You are still mad at him for what happened last night at the club. He had no right to act the way he did.
“I’m hurt,” he feigns sadness, clutching his chest. “I thought we were best friends?”
“We are,” you say, and he smiles. “But you were an asshole yesterday.”
The smile on his face falls, “I know, and that’s why I brought your favorite takeout.”
“You’re trying to apologize through takeout?”
“Is it working?”
You roll your eyes; you can never win. Although you want to be mad at him, you know that you can never be. “Maybe.”
A smile graces his face again, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Great; that’s better than no.”
He grabs your hand and walks you both into the living room. Taking the boxes out of the paper bag, he hands you your favorite dish and digs into his own. As you two settle on the couch, with the TV play some random movie, you can’t help but stare at him.
After you slipped into bed last night, you stayed up and thought a lot about your relationship with Taehyung. You spent many nights thinking about him, but last night you finally decided on something: you are going to end the friends with benefits relationship with him. This decision came to you because you realized that you both aren’t happy.
You loved Tae beyond the lines of a best friend.
There; you finally admitted it.
As much as you wanted to make him happy, to him you are just the best friend. Nothing more, nothing less. Maybe that’s why you enjoyed Hoseok’s company so much last night—he actually gave you the attention you so desperately wanted from Tae. After all these years, you figured it’s time that he receives the happiness he deserves. You deserve happiness too, even if it means letting him go.
“What?” he suddenly asks, not looking away from the TV screen.
“Nothing,” you say, shoving some food in your mouth. Despite thinking these thoughts, you aren’t sure how to break the news to him.
After the random takeout night, everything returns to how it always used to be—the same cycle of a toxic, friends with benefits relationship. Each time you climbed into Taehyung’s bed or he yours, you swore it would be the last time. Hell, you even slipped it out once that it was going to be the last time, but he just laughed and carried on.
A few weeks go by, and you find yourself at Tae’s house once again. He invited you over to watch a movie, but you two are doing everything but that.
He’s pressed against you, peppering kisses along your jaw and down your neck. After so many years of being intimate together, Tae knows your body like the back of his hand. You moan as he slides a hand underneath your shirt to touch one of your sensitive breasts. His other hand begins to travel to the button of your jeans. Your body screams in anticipation, but he suddenly stops.
“Bed. Now,” he says, and then picks you up.
Tae carries you across his apartment to his bedroom, and sets you at the foot of his bed. You take a second to glance around the room you’ve come to memorize so well.
“This is the last time, okay?” your words are sincere tonight; after this, it’s officially over.
But Taehyung doesn’t even glance at your face as he discards your shirt on the floor. The next thing to come off are your jeans, and you’re left in only your underwear. This scene is all too familiar.
“Why am I always the first to get naked?” you ask.
He smirks, taking his shirt and pants off. “Better?”
“Much,” you say with a pang in your heart as you stare at the beautiful human being in front of you. In this moment, you see just how grown up Taehyung has gotten. He isn’t the lanky boy you met all those years ago anymore. Now, as your eyes travel over the golden skin that stretches over his toned body, he’s a man.
Tae proceeds to rip your underwear off and you slide his boxers off. He immediately pushes you back on the bed, hands spreading your legs apart. His lips attach to your inner thighs, leaving teasing kisses everywhere. You moan, begging him for more. So, he brings a finger to your entrance, smirking again.
“So wet already,” he muses just before replacing his finger with his mouth.
As he begins to lick you, you weave your fingers into his hair. “Yes, Tae. Oh my god.”
He looks up at you from where he’s positioned between your legs, and you nearly orgasm on the spot. The smolder in his gaze lights up your entire body. As he continues to use tongue, which you’re sure is magical, his eyes never move away from yours and you swear that you’ve never seen anything sexier in your life.
He applies more pressure and you pull his hair tighter, feeling yourself getting close. You moan and arch your back, hands fisting the sheets around you. Just as you’re about to see the stars, Tae suddenly pulls his mouth away. Immediately you whimper, not liking the loss of touch. You start to complain, but don’t get very far before he suddenly shoves two fingers inside of you. The fullness causes you to reach your peak, and you cry out his name.
“That’s it, you dirty girl,” he still pumps his fingers inside of you, helping you ride out your high. “So sexy.”
It all just feels so good, and you nearly question your decision. You lift your head up once you’ve recovered and manage a small smile, “My turn.”
Taehyung’s eyes widen for a moment and you take the chance to pull him onto the bed, flipping positions so you’re on top. One of your hands reaches for his cock, moaning a bit when you realize how hard he is already. You stoke his member a few times before bending down to take him into your mouth. In all honesty, you are never one to really give blowjobs. It’s not that you hate giving them, it just never fits the flow; Tae almost always goes down on you and then fucks you—he never really gives you many chances to return the favor.
But from the expression on his face, you know he absolutely loves it.
“Shit,” he groans as you take him deeper into your mouth.
His cock hits the back of your throat and you gag a bit, feeling tears forming in your eyes. Even though giving blowjobs is rather uncomfortable sometimes, it’s worth seeing the reaction from Tae. His breaths are getting heavier; he’s getting close. This fact prompts you to suck harder, paying more attention to his sensitive head.
“Y/n—fucking shit—stop.”
Your eyes meet his from underneath your lashes. Letting go of his cock with a pop sound, you ask, “Is there something wrong?”
Tae has never stopped you from finishing a blowjob before.
He runs a hand over his face, “It feels so fucking good.”
“Why’d you want me to stop then?”
He leans up and captures your lips in a kiss. You kiss him back hard, pushing everything into the kiss. He breaks away first, resting his forehead against yours. “I want to cum inside you.”
And before you can comprehend his words, he flips you over onto your stomach and lifts your ass up. Without much warning, he slams inside you. This is done without much effort because you’re still wet from earlier. You both moan at the feeling of being connected like this; he has always filled you up so well.
Tae grips onto your hips as he moves fast, thrusting into you relentlessly. All you can do is sink your head into the bedsheets and take the pleasure. You’ve always loved this position since Tae goes so much deeper, hitting all the right spots. The same pleasure from earlier starts to build up inside of you again, and you tell him to go harder. And he does, leaning over you so he doesn’t move out much and ends up going even deeper than before.
You moan into the sheets, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable. Tae begins to suck onto the skin of your shoulders, no doubt leaving hickeys. This act just adds to the pleasure and you feel like you’re about to burst. Suddenly, Taehyung flips you over onto your back and crashes his lips on you.
As he kisses you, his hips move faster and you feel so so close.
“Cum for me, baby,” Tae whispers into your ears, fingers finding your sensitive clit, and that does the trick.
Your orgasm hits you like a freight truck, tightening your walls around Tae. Within seconds, he reaches his climax too, releasing himself into you. After this, he falls on top of you. But unlike other times, he doesn’t stay in the position long and rolls over. His chest rapidly rises up and down, sweating covering his entire body. You try to catch your own breath, feeling your heart beating erratically.
He turns his head to look at you and smiles, “Fucking perfect as always, y/n.”
Placing a quick kiss on your forehead, he gets up to grab a rag to clean the both of you. Once you clean the creampie off of you, he hands you a t-shirt and pulls his own boxers on. He whispers goodnight and falls asleep immediately. You take in his sleeping form—long eye lashes, soft lips; he looks like an angel. You can’t help but bring a hand to his face, trailing your fingers along his skin.
After a few moments, you roll over; feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders. You shut your eyes tightly, tears flowing down your face. A silent sob racks its way through your body because this was the last time. You were serious when you said those words to him before. Being in this toxic relationship isn’t an option anymore—you can’t deal with being the girl he simply used for sex.
You craved intimacy beyond that.
You wanted something deep, all consuming. Was that so bad?
While Tae slept peacefully beside you, you couldn’t relax at all. The thought of you leaving him haunted you. Before anything, he’s your best friend; you don’t want to lose him. At the same time, though, you know that you can’t keep him in your life. You want so much more, and he can’t give you that. So in your mind, it’s better just to break yourself away entirely.
Before the sun rises, you quietly get out of Taehyung’s bed and grab your clothes. You decide to keep his shirt, wanting to be selfish one last time. When you have all your things, you finally look at his sleeping form. Your heart hangs heavy in your chest; it hurt like hell now, but you would be grateful later…right?
Slipping out of his apartment, you drive home feeling like a total mess. Once you make it to your place, you immediately crawl into bed and cry yourself to sleep.
***
It’s one of those nights again.
The world is asleep, yet you are still wide awake—heart aching, mind running a thousand miles an hour. No matter what you try, sleep does not come. It’s like life is torturing you.
Since you left Taehyung’s house that one morning, you haven’t been able to sleep well. Every time you thought you finally were going to drift into dreamland for the night, his face would creep right into your mind. His expressive eyes, the gentle slope of his nose, the curve of his boxy grin—it was all ingrained in your mind. And you hated it. You also hated how you could still feel his burning touch on your skin; the way his large hands caressed your body.
Not only couldn’t you sleep well, but Tae calls you every day. He blows up your phone, leaving a voicemail every single time.
Y/n, pick up the phone.
Call me back soon, okay?
Is everything okay? Are you okay??
What did I do wrong? Call me back.
I know you’re listening to these messages since your voice mailbox isn’t full…call me soon.
…please pick up, y/n. Please.
As you listen to each message, your heart breaks a little more. You’re at a point now that you feel like you don’t even have a heart since you just feel so broken. The longingness in your chest is about to burst, but you aren’t going to give in. You aren’t going to pick up the phone and give him the satisfaction of knowing that you desperately cannot live without him.
You can be strong for once. You can exist without Kim Taehyung.
Even though you don’t pick up or return any of his calls, that doesn’t stop him. It has already been almost a month since you last saw him, but he continues to call and call and call. He’s relentless and a part of you feels absolutely terrible.
In the second month, the calls are less frequent but still very present in your life. Tae still calls practically every day, leaving you those damn voicemails that break your soul. And as much as it hurts, you still listen to every voicemail. You don’t know why though because you still feel as shitty as ever.
By the third month, Tae only calls once, maybe twice, a week. You still give him props for being so driven. If it had been you in his position, you would’ve give up a long time ago. He leaves the occasional voicemail too, but you know better to not listen anymore.
Miraculously, you’ve managed to avoid seeing him all this time. You don’t really know how though, since you both live in the same city. But he hasn’t come to see you yet, which is surprising. This behavior was very un-Tae-like, but you’re thankful; if he was to show up at your door, you don’t know what you would do.
Without Taehyung present in your life, you didn’t know what to do with yourself at first. A person who was so essential to your being wasn’t there anymore. But after the days, weeks, and eventual months went by, you learn to just deal. Your co-workers were concerned at first—they didn’t know why you had suddenly changed. They questioned you a lot that first month and attempted to change your mood; it, however, died quickly when they realized you weren’t going to change.
But have you changed a lot?
You aren’t too sure.
The days continue to pass you by, and life is starting to get rather dull. It’s the same routine of waking up, going to work, and then coming home. Although it’s boring and less than interesting, you stick to it because it’s the right thing. And before you know it, six whole months go by and it’s almost the end of the year.
Life’s still boring, but you think about Taehyung a lot less now. He stopped calling after the fourth month and no longer consumed your every thought. You can breathe a little bit better now, but there are still some nights you laid awake wondering how he was doing. Knowing him, he’s probably doing great; Tae’s always able to adapt easily to situations.
With the end of the year approaching, you find yourself not to terribly excited about the holidays; after all, you’re going to spend them alone. Or so you thought.
“Hello?” It wasn’t Tae on the phone, but someone else who you haven’t spoken to in years.
“Hey, y/n.”
“Umm…hi?”
“You said your greetings already,” the person on the other line says, humor laced in their voice.
“Whatever,” you roll your eyes, “what do you want?”
They mock gasp, “Is that really the way to speak to someone you haven’t spoken to since high school?”
“I don’t know, Yoon; maybe because we haven’t talked since high school?”
“Goodness, no need to sound so sarcastic,” she says. “I was just saying.”
You have no idea why she’s suddenly calling after all these years. After high school, you haven’t kept up with anyone you used to talk to—besides Tae, of course. You’re surprised she still has your number.
“Like I said before, what do you want?” you ask, confused.
“Can’t I just randomly call you?”
“No,” is your immediate response.
“Look, y/n, I know we haven’t talked since high school, but we used to be really good friends,” Yoon says, “so I just wanted to call and invite you to a New Year’s Eve party I’m hosting at my boyfriend’s place.”
“A New Year’s Eve party?” This feels all too familiar.
“Yeah—it’ll be fun, so please come!”
You scrunch your brows, “Is it your same boyfriend from high school?”
“Oh god no,” she laughs. “I’m dating Jay now.”
In that moment, your mouth drops, “What?! As in, Jay from high school? As in, the Jay who hosted the best parties?”
“Yes, that Jay. We’ve been dating for a few years now,” Yoon explains.
“That’s so crazy,” you say. “Who would’ve guessed; but I’m glad you ended things with that boyfriend of yours from high school—he was a douchebag.”
Yoon laughs again, “You don’t even have to tell me; I don’t know what I saw in him.”
“Seriously,” you smile. “Especially that one time—”
“—he got so drunk the night before graduation, he received his diploma hungover and confessed he had a thing for a teacher,” she finishes for you and you both laugh so hard. You can’t remember the last time you laughed so much.
“Oh my god, that was ridiculous,” you say, recalling the memory.
“It’s really funny now, but I still cringe thinking about it sometimes.”
If you were her, you would cringe too, “Jay is totally a step up from that mess.”
“So you’ll come to the party?” she asks.
You shrug even though she can’t see you, “I guess so.”
“Great,” you can feel her smile.
“I mean, it’s not like I have anything better to do,” you tell her, and it was the truth—you really don’t have anything else planned. There’s no way in hell you’re going home to your parents for the holidays; without a doubt they’d ask about Taehyung and you aren’t exactly ready to tell them yet. Also, you’d probably run into his mom and that would be bad.
“I promise you won’t regret it.”
***
On Christmas day, you call your parents. They bombard you with the typical you should call more and come visit. You manage to avoid questions that are too personal and promise that you’ll visit…soon.
As you call the other important people in your life, including Yoon, your hands itch to call Tae. It was your first Christmas, since that trip to visit your aunt all those years ago, without him and it honestly feels weird. When you woke up this morning, your mind immediately flashed back to Christmases past where you always woke up beside him. The yearning you haven’t felt in a while starts to return, but you don’t press his number that you’ve never bothered to delete.
The days following Christmas are a blur as you wait for the 31st to arrive. Admittingly, you’re actually kind of excited for the party; it’s going to be your first social outing in a while. Yoon called and told you it was going to a dressy event, meaning nicer clothes, so you spent hours trying to find the perfect outfit. You don’t even know why you were freaking out about clothes, but you wanted to look nice.
You end up finding a burgundy dress with an exposed back that makes you feel really good, and you feel happy for the first time in forever.
When New Year’s Eve finally rolls around, you slip into your slightly scandalous dress ready to take on the world. Yoon sends you the address of the place and you drive for about thirty minutes before arriving at a mansion.
Of course, you think to yourself as you pull into the circle driveway. This dude would live in a mansion even as an adult.
At the steps of the mansion, a man stands there and you look at him puzzled. “Yes?”
“Hello, miss, we can take your car and park it for you,” he says and you realize this must be a really fancy event.
“Oh, okay,” you say and get out of the car.
“Just let Mr. Jay or one of our staff know when you’re ready to leave,” he tells you before zooming away in your car.
You turn around a few times in the driveway, not knowing what to make of the situation, before making your way up the steps of the lavish house. When you reach the door, you don’t even have to reach for the handle—it opens before you can.
“Y/n?” someone calls your name.
You smile, “Yoon.”
Your old childhood friend stands in front of you in a gold fitted dress, looking even better now than she did in high school.
“Oh my god—you’re so hot now what the fuck,” she practically screeches before tackling you in a hug. You can’t help but laugh at her action, before hugging her back. “How is this even possible?”
You pull away, “Look who’s talking.”
She rolls her eyes, “Compared to you, I’m a potato.”
“I mean, you managed to snag Jay so I highly doubt that,” you say to her, an eyebrow raised. “By the way, this place is huge.”
“Oh, I know. I told Jay it was too big but he said it was perfect,” Yoon shrugs.
You look around, taking in the elaborate décor and high ceilings. It was all beautiful, but a little too much room for your personal taste. “I mean, I guess it makes a good place to host parties?”
“That’s the plan now.”
As you continue to take in all the glorious details, you realize something, “Where is everyone?”
You look at Yoon, wondering if you were somehow early but that couldn’t be because you were on time…or at least, you thought you were. But your friend looks at your confused expression and smiles.
“It’s a big place, remember? The party is on the other side of the mansion,” she explains and in that moment, you can hear music emitting from somewhere far.
Yoon grabs your arms and you two make your way across the mansion. The deeper Yoon pulls you into the house, the louder the music gets. As the bass starts to shake the floor, you start seeing more people. Actually, you start seeing a lot of people.
“Oh shit,” you say to yourself, surprised by the sheer amount of bodies.
“I know,” your friend yells in front of you and you’re surprised that she heard you. “This is technically my party, but it seems like Jay ended up inviting the whole city.”
Although there are many people present, it’s not like a party you would’ve attended back in high school. No one is dancing provocatively or getting wasted—everyone is just doing their own thing. Yoon walks you into a room with high ceilings, a glittering chandelier right in the center. The extravagant sight parts your mouth in awe; exactly how rich is Jay?
“Well, this is the party,” Yoon says after you close your mouth again. “Before you leave, come find me okay?”
You nod a couples times before you register her words, “Wait, what?”
“I have to go find Jay,” she shrugs.
“And you’re just going to leave me?”
Yoon smiles, “You’ll be fine.”
“What was the point of inviting me if you’re not going to bother to entertain me?” you might’ve appeared rather sarcastic, but you’re internally freaking out. You don’t want Yoon to leave you; what are you supposed to do? This party’s not your forte and you don’t know anybody else but her.
“I’m sure you will find someone else to entertain you,” she says, already walking away from you. What was that supposed to mean?
And with that, your only friend at the party abandons you. Suddenly, you find yourself feeling out of place in the sea of people. You quickly walk away from the center of the room and don’t stop until you find a bar. You pour yourself a drink, half-leaning against the wall. As you glance around the room, you feel slightly envious of everyone. They all seem like they’re having a great time…and you’re not feeling that same excitement anymore. You are so immersed in your thoughts, you don’t even notice the figure behind you. And you definitely do not expect to feel a hand on you.
Out of instinct, you jab your arm into them; but they stop you, grabbing a hold of your hand. You turn around, ready to give them a piece of mind. But when you realize who is behind you, the world seems to stop.
“Wha—” your mouth falls open, not able to form proper words. “T-Tae?”
The last person you expected to see is inches away from you, and you can’t even think.
Your mind is completely blank, devoid of any thoughts as you search his features. Not much has changed about him—same curved lips, nose perfectly sculpted by God himself. If anything, he just looks tired. Tears threaten to spill when your eyes finally meet his; in his gaze, you see all the emotions you’ve felt these past six months. Confusion, pain, anger, numbness—you see it all and it kills you inside.
In your rationality, you thought he would be okay; you thought that he didn’t need you. Now, you see that he’s hurt, and you’re the cause of it all. Fear spikes your system. You need to get away from him before you cause any more damage. But as you try to back away, you realize that his grip on you is tight.
Without saying a word, he forcefully pulls you forward and drags you through the crowd of people. Thankfully, no one really pays you two attention as Tae maneuvers the both of you away from the center of the party. You have no idea where he’s taking you, but you don’t try to resist because there would be no point. Tae turns into a hallway and opens a random door, shoving you inside. He locks the door behind him, and finally turns to face you. You can’t even look at him, feeling shameful that you’re actually in his presence again.
Silence fills the room before he talks, “Why?”
You stare at the floor, not knowing what to say.
“Why?” he suddenly grabs both of your shoulders, shaking you. “Why did you leave me?”
You let him shake you, feeling deserving of the action; you deserved all the bad in the world for what you did.
“Did you not know how much of a mess I was, huh? I thought you were just mad at me; ignoring me for a couple days. But when you never called back, I didn’t know to do. Fuck,” he lets you go to rake a hand through his hair. “I was so angry. How could you do that to me? You ruined me, y/n. Why are you so heartless?”
By now, tears are pouring down your face; but you’re angry too. He was angry with you? He was a mess? “You think you’re the only one who was hurting?”
“Well, I wasn’t the one who completely cut you from my life.”
More tears spill from your eyes. He doesn’t get it. “You’re an asshole, Kim Taehyung.”
While he was angry that you didn’t return any of his damn phone calls in six months, you were disappointed that after all these years he still couldn’t see your true feelings. You might’ve not seem him in a while, but the same feelings from six months ago were starting to creep back and you didn’t like it. You have almost forgotten how much your soul longed for him.
“I’m an asshole?” he asks incredulously.
You don’t say anything; instead, you turn back around and start to walk towards the door. Before you can get far though, Tae pulls you back.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Away from you.”
“I haven’t seen you in six months and you want to leave already? Is that what you do best? Run away?” he asks.
His words are like a dagger to your heart. “Don’t ever talk to me again.”
“Why are you doing this, y/n? What the hell did I do?” he’s yelling at this point and the tears rush endlessly down your face. And before you can even help it, the words tumble right out of your mouth.
“You made me fall in love with you.”
The rooms falls silent and in that moment, you swear that you can hear Taehyung’s own heart beating. You can’t even look at him, feeling too embarrassed at your sudden confession. It’s the first time you’ve ever said the truth out loud; and even though you feel strangely liberated, a lingering feeling of rejection still harbors over you.
When the silence continues to swallow you up, you slowly start to regret ever saying anything.
“You know what? Forget I ever said anything,” you quickly say in attempts to clear the air. “I don’t even know why—”
“You’re in love with me?”
His words cause you to raise your head up and meet his eyes. There’s an emotion swirling in them that you can’t decipher. Since there’s no turning back now, you nod your head once and silent wait for his response. A few seconds pass before a smile morphs onto his face. The smile surprises you because you don’t get the gesture; why was he smiling?
“You’re in love with me?” he repeats his question, and you scrunch your brows as you nod your head again. “No, no—say it out loud.”
You blink a couple times, “Umm…I love you?”
“C’mon, say it more reassuringly.”
“I love you, Kim Taehyung,” you say with honesty because you do love him, you really do. The smile that graced his face a few seconds earlier is now a goofy grin that stretches from ear to ear. It’s a smile that scares you a bit because you still don’t understand the reason behind it.
“You,” he points in your direction before gesturing to himself, “love me.”
By this point, a string of laughter leaves you since he keeps repeating the same three words. “Yes I love you; why is that so unbelievable?”
“It’s not unbelievable,” he smirks and it is all so very Kim Taehyung. “But why did it take you so long to tell me? I mean, we’ve been friends forever.”
You slump against the wall, “And that is precisely the reason why. I-I didn’t want to ruin what we had already. You’re my best friend Tae, and I didn’t want to lose that. It also didn’t help that we were having sex together; I think that just made me fall harder, honestly.”
“I thought you wanted to keep it all no-strings-attached?”
“I did,” you sigh, “but it just all got so complicated.”
“Well, if it helps,” Tae starts, placing a hand along your cheek, “I’m in love with you too.”
He says it all so nonchalant that you barely catch the in love part. “You what?”
Tae looks down at you, now cupping both your cheeks, “I love you, y/n.”
“Are you just saying that because I confessed?” You’re in denial that Tae could be in love with you too because how can that even be? You were positive that he never saw you as more than a friend.
“Of course not; I think I’ve been in love with you since high school,” he admits, cheeks tinging a shade of red. “You were the cute girl in English class that all the boys liked, and I was just lucky to have gotten paired up with you on that project. When we became friends, it felt like a dream—I felt like I won the lottery. And because we were friends, I decided to suppress my feelings because you were important to me. But that winter break back in eleventh grade ruined me though. I have never regretted and cherished a night so much in my life.
“I figured I could live with simply being a friend who you fucked because I thought it was what you wanted. Now, however, I can see that we’ve been on the same boat all this time.”
When you hear his confession, you feel like so much heartbreak could’ve been prevented. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
He shrugs, “The fear of rejection, I guess. Being friends with benefits was comfortable and I was fine with it, until you completely walked out of my life.”
“I’m sorry,” you tell him. “I thought that was best. I thought you could live without me.”
“I could never live without you,” Tae’s eyes widen. “I was a mess without you these last six months. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Jay and Yoon.”
That’s when everything clicked, “You know Jay and Yoon?”
Tae smiles sheepishly, “Jay was a guy I used to hang with before I met you—our parents are friends. We haven’t talked in years and probably wouldn’t have if I hadn’t decided to go home to visit my parents.”
“You did what?” this news shocks you. “They didn’t…they didn’t ask about me, did they?”
“Don’t worry, I just lied and said you were busy,” he says and you can breathe again. “But anyway, when I went home Jay happened to be in town too and when we went out for drinks, everything just spilled out of me. He then told me that his girlfriend used to be one of your close friends and I begged her to get in touch with you. And, since you’re here…I guess she did.”
Wow. This is all so unexpected. “So, you all basically devised this party just so you could see me?”
Tae just nods and you roll your eyes before shoving him away from you. Taehyung looks at you like you’re crazy. “What the hell, y/n?”
“Why can’t you ever just grab my attention like a normal person?” you ask him, and a smile returns on his face. “Why do you always sneak up on me?”
“You’ve always be fun to mess with.”
As Tae smiles at you, you decide to be spontaneous. You take that chance to fling yourself into his arms, wrapping your own around him. Tae reciprocates the hug and lets his head fall into the crook of your shoulder. “I really am sorry and I really, really do love you.”
Even though you can’t see his face, you can feel him smiling into your shoulder. “I know and I love you more.”
“I don’t think that’s possible,” you tell him, smiling.
He raises his head, “I’ve loved you longer, idiot.”
“So? Time doesn’t determine the strength of someone’s love.”
“Yes, it does, because I loved you first.”
“No, it doesn’t because I loved you so much I was willing to let you be happy.”
“I love you more,” he says.
“No, I do.”
“I do.”
“Tae, I love you more—” before you can continue to express how much more you love him, he shuts you up with a kiss. You haven’t kissed him in so long, you can feel your head spinning. As his lips move against yours, you feel desires that you thought died start to come alive again. You mold yourself closer to him, needing to feel him against you.
You pull away from him and he moves down your neck, “Since you claim you love me more, you should show me just how much…”
He raises his lips of your skin immediately, “Oh yeah?”
Smiling, you nod and laugh when he picks you up. He walks you two to the bed in the room and throws you on it before climbing on top as well.
“I feel kind of bad for always using people’s bedrooms,” you say as he starts to unzip your dress.
“I guess it’s just our thing,” Taehyung smiles at you before leaning in for another kiss.
Our thing. You repeat the word in your head, and you swear you’ve never been happier.
#armiesnet#btsbookclub#bangtan bookclub#bts fic#bts smut#taehyung fic#taehyung smut#bts#bangtan#v#smut#angst#kpop fic#it's complicated#xbaepsae
439 notes
·
View notes
Text
Well since I'm feeling contrarian I'm gonna rank all of the yakuza games I've played (which is everything except the original 1 and 2, Dead Souls, and the Japan only games) which is guaranteed to piss someone off. Starting with the best-
1. Yakuza 0
Ok, not a controversial choice. I'm sorry. But the general consensus is correct. On top of having one of the best stories in the series, a really fun combat system (albeit not very challenging, but it's not like i play yakuza for challenge), and some of the most memorable sidestories, the setting really gives this game a certain style that nothing else in the series has. Also, one of the few yakuza games that's decently paced. Honestly, most of my complaints about this game are nitpicks (such as how grindy maxing out your character is) it's just a kind of boringly perfect game, really.
2. Yakuza: Like a Dragon
"BuT iT's TuRn-BaSeD" ok cool guess you're just gonna miss out on a fantastic fucking game. I gotta say, it was a real hard choice between "I wanna see the side stories" and "I GOTTA know what happens next in the story" sometimes. I don't know else I can say about this game: great story, great characters, just a great time. Admittedly, as an RPG it.... needs work. The encounter rate is WAAAY too high and the job class system is pretty busted. Even still, the genre change is a breath of fresh air and honestly pretty charming at times. Play this, goddamn
3. Yakuza Kiwami 2
It was a real toss up between Kiwami 2 and the game in the 4th slot, but in the end, Kiwami 2 wins by being more consistently enjoyable. Unlike the first two games on this list I can't say Kiwami 2 had a good story exactly, but I can say it's an entertaining one. I was rarely bored playing this, and in terms of sheer fun, Kiwami 2 wins that crown. I was *howling* at the ending, my God.
4. Yakuza 5
I'm of two minds when it comes to this game. On the one hand, some of my favorite stuff is in this game. The intro is very unusual but hit me in a weird way that really stuck with me. It finally made Saejima likable. Playable Haruka. Shinada, my beloved. On the other hand, while Yakuza games having pacing problems is pretty much the norm, whoo boy does yakuza 5 test your patience. Sloths move at the speed of fleas on meth compared to this game. Also, the actual overarching story is pretty weak and uninteresting. It's really best viewed as a collection of loosely connected stories. This game definitely has it's flaws, but the high points more than make up for them
5. Yakuza 6
Someone's gonna get mad that this game isn't lower, I'm sure. Yeah, it's flawed. It's not best send off for Kiryu. It's lacking in content. The ending is fucking terrible. But there's still plenty here to love. I love Onomichi, it's honestly one of my favorite locations in this series, even if there's nothing to do in it. It's just wonderful to look at and walk around in. I like the Onomichi cast. Beat Takeshi is there. Having Kiryu's saga cap off with a game about family is a great idea, and until this game's awful fucking ending it's a touching exploration of that theme. But fuck this game's ending. Seriously.
6. Yakuza 3
This is... a weird one. I can both see why the fanbase rejected it at the time and why fan appraisal has gotten so much kinder to this game. Like y6 (honestly y6 is really an unofficial remake of this game) it's a game about family. That being said, I rank it lower than 6 because of the relatively lower stakes and weak plot. It takes a long time for the main plot to actually start, and honestly it can take it's dear sweet time. Whenever I was going main story quests all I can think was about how much I'd rather be dinking around doing mundane shit for the kids. But I can't say this game isn't charming as hell. It's really one of the few times you really see Kiryu as just a... guy. Raising his kids, just living his life. For a series all about high octane melodrama, slice of life is a welcome change of pace
7. Judgment
Ooh, HERE'S the controversial take! Yeah, I didn't really care for Judgment. Judgment is the opposite of y3, where instead the main plot is actually very interesting but we spend. So. Much. Time. On. Bullshit. It's not a short game either. I spent so much of this game wondering when we're getting to the goddamn fireworks factory. Putting the pacing problems aside, the characters are fun but apart from Yagami and arguably Sugiura they don't get much in the way of meaningful development (it feels like Higashi's character arc is almost entirely off screen). The "detective" gameplay is meaningless fluff and adds nothing (note to game developers: tailing missions always suck. They sucked in Assassin's Creed and they suck here) and the attempt to bring back style changing is half-baked. I didn't hate my time with this game, but it left me underwhelmed
8. Yakuza Kiwami
This was actually my first yakuza game. And thank goodness Kiryu is hot because this game is... rough. First off, the story is just not very good. It spends a lot of time with tedious red herrings and extraneous shit with characters we don't care about. I honest to God had a hard time following the plot on my first playthrough because the cast is like 90% unmemorable middle aged Japanese men that show up like once in the first hour and then once in the last (but you're expected to remember them). It doesn't fare any better gameplay wise. It does make one good decision, bringing back style changing, but then for some reason they decided to make every boss fight an awful chore by having them regenerate their hp several times a fight (unless you happen to have the heat to do a heat action, and even then they regen hp so fast it may not help that much). What. The fuck. This snowballs into the Majima Everywhere which... look. I know. Goromi. But this system is still one where you have to fight a boss over and over and over again (in a game where fighting bosses is a chore). I've seen people slide off the series after going from 0 to kiwami, and that sucks. Maybe it was best i started here; if I liked this game, I'll probably like the rest
But there's one game I'd say that'd worse
9. Yakuza 4
When I played Yakuza 4 the first time, it was the ps3 version and I hadn't played 3 yet (it was more expensive.) So when I replayed 4 it was after playing 3, and honestly I was appreciating the game a lot more. After the slog of 3 it was nice to have a game with a snappier pace. And Akiyama was a fun change of pace. Him and Hana have a fun dynamic. I remembered not liking this game; was I too harsh? Could I have appreciated 4 more if I could see the improvements from 3? Then I got to Saejima's section then I remembered why I don't like this game. Honestly, I could go ON about how much Saejima's part sucks, it is easily the worst time I've had playing a yakuza game. I'll spare you that novel for now tho. And from here, the game never really recovers. We move on to Tanimura, the worst yakuza protagonist by the sheer virtue of how boring he is. By the time Kiryu shows up again I was so damned thrilled to see him. But he doesn't really save this game. Yakuza plots are usually convoluted and sometimes hard to follow, but 4's just gets exhausting to keep up with. By the time you get to your 28th betrayal you just can't care anymore. And it all caps off with a lazy fucking ending and the absolute worst final boss fight in the series. Oh Curryman. You deserve a better game.
12 notes
·
View notes
Note
i have decided i am now going to blow up your inbox bc i csn i’m sorry codi focnnf
b u t!! anyway i’m going to rambling abt my new dad for all au [whixh was the au i sent you that ask abt]
alrighty so all might is now midoriya’s dad. that’s a thing. i like to think that inko and toshinori were high school sweethearts who broke up after graduation but met again when all might was called to recuse some hostages and inko was one of them!! anywho all might recuses her, they go on a coffee date, realize they’re still in love and start again
they get married and have izuku, who keeps inko’s maiden name [midoriya is now inko’s maiden name bc i do what i want]. he’s the cutest baby who has inko’s green hair, but has one blue and one green eye! [these are /important/] inko and all might talk abt maybe giving izuku all for one when he’s older, but they decide against it bc they don’t know if he’ll have a quirk or not
spoiler!! bitch baby has a quirk!! he gets a quirk that’s so much different than inko’s quirk and !!! ahhh!!! the basic explanation is that all might’s all of one genes mixed and then “corrupt” inko’s like 3 generation quirk-having genes or smth and izu has a very, very complex quirk now. it’s called astron, and astron allows him to fucking astral project into the center of the university and shit chxnc
astron works two different ways: using his blue eye he can project other people into his own personal astral plane and do whatever he wants. while the person’s physical body is still where it was, their mind is in the astral plane. if he uses his green eye, he can project himself to his astral plane and fuck around without consequences!!
[there’s an untold third ability of astron using both of his eyes, but izuku tried doing that when he first got his quirk and immediately fell into a coma for like a month? it was bad and his mind couldn’t handle the stress and dipped lol]
ANYWAY, izuku grows up with a bomb ass quirk and still has his kacchan with him thru his childhood so things are a lot different than canon? the wonder duo are little shitheads together and i love them, they wreck havoc and i love them
i have more ideas for this story but this is all i have for now, codi this is so long i’m sorry i’m blowing up ur inbox 🥺😭
me opening my askbox and seeing the length of this au: holy shit
me reading the actual whole au: HOLY SHIT
AJ I LOVE THIS HIGHKEY!!! I LOVE THE IDEA OF OP DEKU W A FUCKED UP QUIRK JUST TERRIFYING EVERYONE HE COMES ACROSS!!!! heterochromia is SO so good as a character design element and i LOVE THE WAY THIS IS IMPLEMENTED YELLS. I WANNA DRAW THIS SO BAD!!! THIS LOOKS SO COOL
(serious writing/plot below - blood and vomit mention)
oh god and now im imagining deku like. being this extremely feral and annoying lil shit whos extremely powerful and now bakugous got someone on his level so hes a lot more humble as hes growing up but also him and deku are the?? BESTEST OF FRIENDS. and i imagine when bakugou is being a little shit deku just. astral projects him out of his body for a while and apologizes to whoever kacchan yelled at LMFAO---bakugou comes back to his body and is all like “....fucks sake stop doing that”
AND THEN omfgkjfds imagine morally grey deku who does whatever he can to win?? he knew he wouldnt get into UAs hero course fair and square (all might offered him a recommendation but he declined because he wanted to get there on his own with kacchan) because robots didnt have souls he could astral project so he practices his quirks limits like YEARS prior and he tells bakugou about it but never rlly shows him but on the day of the entrance exam?
he shows up. everything goes as normal and he finishes the written exams and then moves on to the practical exam (still seperated from kacchan like in canon) and like. Every one goes dashing forward and deku doesnt really try to beat anyone. He waits until theyre all in the center engaging with robots when he walks to the center of the room.
and he sees the zero pointer in the distance.
“THE ZERO-POINTER’S HERE!” He yells and points at the gigantic mech heading their way. All at once everyone’s heads whip up to catch sight of the robot, enraptured by its sheer size and power.
As they all look to one direction, Deku makes eye contact with them and smiles.
All at once, every single participant in the area goes limp. Astron throws their souls into the astral plane with little fanfare and everyone watches in awe and annoyance as their bodies uselessly crumple to the ground from the outside. The green-haired boy is suddenly given free reigns of the arena and they seethe as one by one he deactivates or disables robots that were once under their purview.
(What some of the smarter ones notice however, is the way he seems to be leaving some stray 3 pointers untouched... almost as if he was doing the calculations in his head as he goes... on how to ensure the number one spot while others can still score points...?)
One by one however, they start struggling and reaching to reconnect with their bodies. Their gleaming bright souls bob up and down with frenzied energy and Deku feels it. He feels it like itches on his skin and goosebumps that turn into hills that dance up and down his back. He feels it like he feels his limit reaching.
Its still around 10 minutes though before he actually loses control and everyone comes back to their bodies. His quirk times out and almost like its angry, the astral plane takes his body in exchange for the dozens he kept in there. He gets sucked through and passes out while everyone else runs and destroys the remaining bots. It doesn’t matter though, because he knows he’s racked up enough points to stay on top. He lets himself rest and observes the blue-haired tall guy with engines who contemplates carrying Deku’s body to safety.
Until, he sees her.
Just under some rubble and very close to getting crushed by the Zero-Pointer’s foot, Deku spots a brown-haired young girl that he recalls has some kind of floating quirk. He sees as everyone runs past her, prioritizing their own safety instead of hers.
He makes a decision.
Quickly--recklessly, a familiar gruff voice says in his ear--he forces himself back into his body and looks around. He runs to the girl and attempts to dig her out from the rubble before she gets crushed. The robot comes ever closer.
Using the little strength and flexibility he’s learnt from years of sparring with Kacchan, Deku abandons her in favor of climbing up the broken concrete and metal to meet the robot’s visor. He knows he won’t save her by digging her out of there, but by god is he gonna let her get injured without a fight. These robots weren’t designed to kill, but they were designed to destroy.
Focus. Focus and listen to what’s around you, Izu-kun.
The world around him reduces to tunnel-vision and suddenly Deku is face to face with the Zero-Pointer. It stops, as if calculating how to discard of Deku without hurting him severely with its own strength.
Everything has life in it. You only need to focus and look for it.
Izuku Midoriya looks at the robot.
In a whirlwind of blue and green, he reaches inside of himself and searches for life. Cold steel and hard-wired code meet his gaze and he plunges even deeper.
Focus.
Then all at once, everything in his visions snaps into sudden clarity, like he’s never seen before. He feels everything. Sees Everything. Smells, tastes, hears--and he hears how the metal beneath him bends and groans. He feels how it winces and shudders. He sees it as it opens its maw and its visor bends in a facsimile of eyes, pleading him as if asking how?
The robot beneath him comes to life and stumbles back.
Quickly, he scrambles to the nearest ledge which happens to be a broken support beam. Distantly, he thinks he feels his arm being sliced open on the edge of it and the warmth of blood streaming down his side as he nearly falls.
“HEY! YOU WITH THE ENGINES!” He hoarsely screams to the still remaining, slack-jawed contestants. “I CAN’T KEEP THE ZERO POINTER DOWN FOR LONG! GO HELP THE GIRL AND TAKE HER TO SAFETY NOW!”
With a sudden burst of energy, the fellow participants start taking others out from the rubble while the blue-haired boy helps the brunette he was protecting earlier. As he watches them clear the rubble to drag her out, he feels a pang.
Who am I? a lost voice calls out. It’s raspy and almost-robotic sounding and only he can hear it. Where am I? What am I?
And Deku’s vision flickers.
In and out, he sees flashes through eyes that aren’t his. He hears voices that are simultaneously faraway and way too close for comfort. The world tugs at the sides of his perspective and a strain is pulling at the back of his head tearing his brain to shreds. He doesn’t know what he’s focusing or straining on, except that its working and keeping the zero-pointer down.
He grits his teeth. “Hurry the hell up! i can’t do this any longer--”
Bursts of pain appear behind his mismatched eyes and he wants to scream so bad and if he were looking any clearer he’d see the way that the zero-pointer thrashes on the ground in time with the pounding on his skull. Bile crawls up the back of his throat and Deku screams.
“SHE’S CLEAR! YOU CAN LET GO NOW, MIDORIYA-SAN.”
Izuku lets go and his vision goes black.
#ASKDZVJFXKS OK THIS TOOK.#A LOT LONGER THAN INTENDED#ok so gthis has plot now and now im thinking of. writing this actually#i love this au so much thank u aj i hOPE YOU DONT MIND THAT I WROTE FOR IT??? im sO SORRY??#anyway have more of my writing its unedited and garbage\#asks#yeets your boy#collisioncomrades#bnha#boku no hero academia#mha#my hero academia#deku#izuku midoriya#midoriya izuku#long post#cw long post#long post cw
46 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi bby! 1, 2, 3, 6, 16, 27, 29, 33, 35! 🖤
mittens!!! loml!!
1. From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!)
oh goodness... um, i’d say a 4?? yeah, that sounds about right, only because i often make so many tense mistakes and even when i edit there’s always something to fix. and just,,, im still learning a lot (aren’t we all). plus, sometimes the stuff i put out needs so much more work (see: my recent shisaku fic... i want to tear it up and put it back together.. ugh.. also wt&r, just everything)
2. Why do you write fanfiction?
OH GOODIE! i just... well, i wrote a lot when i was twelve-fourteenish, then kind of on and off through the years. never really had anything to ground me and get me to take writing seriously. and then i found naruto and sakura who has so much unused potential and it just made me so angry to see her treated that way.
point being, the naruto fandom (more specifically the sakura fandom) rooted me down and allowed me be able to grow as a writer even though i’ve only been posting since january my writing style has changed so much, and i can physically feel myself becoming a better writer.
plus, i just love it. the thrill of being able to use these characters and pairings and do what i want with them?? i drink it up, i love it!!! its so freeing and such a great way to really dig deep within writing itself.
3. What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works?
i think its just the way i word things, you and a lot of others call it poetry but meh i just call it fancy words or word vomit from my brain AHAHHAHA
also, my thing is God Killers, God Eaters, and Angry Wrathful Women at this point, so maybe thats another thing?
but honestly,,, i have no clue... you’d have to ask my lovely readers, im so thankful for them 😭
6. What element of writing do you find comes easily?
plot probably. this changes often though. usually when i have an idea, the rest comes to mind and i jot it down and come back and change things and stuff, so thats usually pretty easy tbh... at least for now LMAO
and inner dialogue, inner struggles, showing the entire internal thing. its fun writing that angsty part of a story, the small insights into a character’s mind, how miserable and alone they feel. or, perhaps how happy they are, overjoyed and at peace.
OH AND WORLD BUILDING. i pride myself so much on my world building. i honestly think thats one of the better things im good at! just weaving small details into the text, and subtly building a world within your mind, oh i love it so much!!!!
16. Any guilty pleasure trope(s)?
mmmm nothing really comes to mind? men simping for women who could kick their ass? tho idk if thats really a guilty pleasure....am very fond of same age aus, sometimes mafia aus too... ummm,, yeah
(probably big dick tenzo tbh... and the fact that kakashi’s face is a legal weapon AHAHAHA,,, and broken, vunreble men. also, shattered, all consuming women.)
27. What’s the nicest comment you’ve ever received?
oh god... i cannot chose! you, ele, al, and hika leave the kindest comments, and literally any comment on the things i write just make me so so so so so HAPPY. i just them more than kudos tbh.
but! one comment on the intimacy of being understood i always come back to. it was left by GuardianMars and they wrote that the fic was like a “love letter to the pairing.” and that well. i think about that comment all the time.
there have been so many others comments that have utterly touched my heart and that i will go to read on terrible, horrible days and i value ALL comments. especially those who say “i’m rereading this again” or “i’ll read anything you put out” that just. there is something so intimate about that, that utter faith and loyalty that i do not know what to do with.
its so touching and makes me truly believe in the good of the world.
29. Have you ever gone outside of your comfort zone for a fic? How did it turn out?
yes! i am attempting to get better at writing smut because ol&w is going to have some fucking in it so i experimented in that shisaku fic and just..... yeah idk man. idk... its something i do want to get better at cause, meh why not? and i want to write some good porn for my readers damnit! HAHAHA
33. Is there anything you wish your audience knew about your writing or writing process?
hmmm,,, probably that i stress so much and yet so little at the same time? allow me to elaborate! i stress so much about whether my writing is actually good or if people are just being nice LMAO and also posting, i get cold sweats and a thumping heart and yiKES
but also, i enjoy writing so its like “fuck you (jk ily guys) imma write what i wanna!”...do you see my issue? HAHAHA
also, im a planner. most of the time, and a lot of the details in my more serious fics (ol&w) are blink and miss details but they’re important and i LOVE foreshadowing!!!! like yes, i will vaguely mention something and itll simply come back with a vengeance!
35. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!
aaaaaa okokok thank you for this ask LMAO i just love talking about writing and rambling (as i often do,, im a long winded person, im very sorry)!
but anyways! my summer semester just started up and i’m taking three purely online classes and the college im attending (im a dual enrollment student; meaning a high school and college kid,, taking advantage of the system!) fucked up my schedule so! im taking two TWELVE WEEK CLASSES that will end in AUGUST???? and then my fall sem starts five days later so... no summer break for nadia! yay...
writing will be very slow and updates will be too, which i am so sad and frustrated about because i’ve finally hit a paved road and now we’re driving into the forest! all bumps and bruises damnit! BUT worry not! i (as i said above, am i severe planner. every day has a plan, i am also an avid lover of lists also. i have lists for EVERYTHING) am working out a schedule so that i can get all my school shit done as soon as i can (while not failing) and write while hopefully not burning myself out.
ol&w is such an intricate fic and im truly trying to give it the justice it deserves,,, im just hoping that my dear readers can bear with me HAHAHAHA there is honestly so much going on in that fic; shikamaru’s development, the underlying plot, the hate to love build up, the world building, and then laying down the foundations for the next fic (because yes, this is supposed to be a trilogy.. question is; will i be able to write it?) (answer: maybe. hopefully. i desperately want to but it might take some time.)
BUT ASLO i have so many oneshots i want to write! kisame week! kakashi week! kibasaku long fic! and not to mention my og work that i plan on rewriting and putting up on ao3 because a few people showed some interest. there is just so much to do and write and i am itching to do it all! but. well, but school, and the exhaustion of insomnia, and the weight of stress, sigh.
shit sucks, it is what it is. but writing is like my safe haven and i just love pouring all myself into my fics and then baring my soul to you all and you take a peek and decide to keep looking. that is my favorite part of this little pocket of tumblr.
this was not really... fic related? more like a dump of issues! so sorry about that AHAHAHAH
anyways! thank you so much mittens! :)))))))))
pick my brain!
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
SNK 137 Review
I can't unsee it.
-rubs temples-
Ok, I know I’ve been absent the past two chapters. I’ll get to why and what I thought of 135 and 136 in this post, but for now…jeez, this chapter.
It was badass and dumb and sometimes both at the same time.
Where do I even start?
-sound of pages being leafed through-
Ok, then.
I actually really like Zeke’s character. He is unironically my second favorite out of the cast.
When we first see Zeke, he’s in his beast titan form. He’s lumbering, hulking, unsettling.
He’s a titan that can talk. He’s a titan that can control other titans!
And he wiped out humanity’s second strongest with ease. I forget his name. It was Mickey, right?
Worst than that, actually. He ordered his titans to kill Mickey with all the gravitas of ordering a side of fries at McDonald’s.
Iirc fans were wondering if this new character would be the main villain of the series.
He went on to wipe out the Survey Corps at Shighanshina, and after that we learned he singlehandedly foiled his parent’s right-wing conspiracy when he was a kid.
Zeke was a mastermind who shouldn’t be taken lightly…right?
Welp, the more we saw of Zeke, the more obvious it became that he wasn’t actually all the impressive.
He wasn’t very good at being a warrior. Honestly, it seems most of his high marks comes from his unique royal blood powers, and the good will be built with Marley when he turned in his parents. TFW cronyism.
He foiled the restorationists plot, but really he was just an abused kid who wanted to get away from his parents.
He killed Mickey, but Zeke was a King Kong sized titan and Mickey was caught off guard and unarmed, so…yeah, ofc he won that fight.
Zeke has royal blood powers, but that doesn’t say anything about his intellectual prowess or anything.
The Survey Corps was wiped out at Shighanshina, but the circumstances of that fight strongly favored him. The Survey Corps were trapped in the city, so all Zeke had to do to win was sit on his ass and do nothing.
And he almost died anyway.
Levi got the drop on him because of his own incompetence. He let himself get distracted, which created the opening for Levi to strike.
Throw in his gullibleness towards Eren, his bumbling demeanor, and his totally emo philosophy, and the true nature of Zeke Jeager became undeniable: this guy is a fucking moron.
Like.
A real fucking moron.
And that’s why his character is unironically so great!
Zeke’s character is such a brilliant subversion of audience expectations.
We were all made to believe that this guy was a Big Fucking Deal through what turned out to mostly be circumstantial reasons.
In reality, he’s an idiot who’s been failing upwards his whole life.
Zeke got as far as he did because he’s really lucky. That’s all he has going for him.
I liked the more fleshed out version of his world view we got here. It is appropriately emo.
My read on Zeke has always been that if he existed in real life he’d be an extremely online philosophy bro, so seeing his outlook on life being effectively copy pasted from 4chan was just delightful.
Zeke is 2deep4(chan)u.
Life exists to multiply. All actions are explained by this singular drive. As such, life is hollow and we’re better off dead.
Imagine that is how you see the world.
Life sucks. It’s an existence of suffering driven by a desire to ensure more people are brought into this world so that they can toil away ensuring that yet more people are brought into this world to toil away ensuring people are brought into this world.
On and on and on and on.
To Zeke, this is the cycle of violence.
Not war which begets war which begets war, but rather life itself.
One suffering existence that begets another suffering existence that begets yet another suffering existence.
That is the context from which the euthanasia plan came from: it was an extension of this broader world view.
Everyone gets a dose of pain in this world, but Eldians especially get shafted. If anyone deserved release from this nihilistic existence that is “being alive,” it’s them.
Hence, Zeke’s plan to sterilize Eldians so they can die out peaceably.
…
It’s hilarious how easily Zeke is disabused of this notion.
I’m not sure if it works from a storytelling perspective, but it tracks perfectly with what usually happens when emo philosophy bros like Zeke have their beliefs challenged.
The emo bro will go on a self-absorbed rant about how nihilistic life is. For sake of example, let’s say the reason is because morality is just an opinion and nothing is objectively wrong.
The n the guy he’s ranting to will drop a critique on the bro so devastating that they’re left speechless:
“What about murder? Isn’t murder objectively wrong?”
Emo bro: -surprised pikachu face-
I swear to God this happens a lot. I don’t know if transplanting that into this pivotal storytelling moment works, but I sure as hell enjoyed it.
But, yeah, while we’re talking about philosophies, let’s look at some others.
Armin thinks there is beauty in pointless moments. Moments that are meaningful only for the people who partake in them. They’re an expression of the love they have for each other. Those moments are worth cherishing and protecting.
He’s right, but you know who also thinks that way?
Eren does.
Superficially, anyway.
When Eren starts rumbling the world, he thinks of his friends and the fun they’ve had together. He’s doing it for them.
Of course, he’s hurt them instead, but that’s still his logic, however deranged it may be.
What separates Armin from Eren is their sense of boundaries.
There are places that Eren is willing to push on towards that Armin is not.
For that, Eren thinks Armin is weak. All Eren had to say to him when they spoke at the restaurant was how useless Armin was.
Armin can’t go the distance. He can’t do what’s necessary. He takes options off the table too easily. He wanted to negotiate instead of seeing the truth that war was inevitable.
To Eren, that’s weakness.
In reality, it’s empathy.
Armin cares about people. Even people who hate him.
Eren doesn’t. If you’re his enemy, you’re dead to him, period.
Eren has no soul.
He may have slept under his enemy’s roof, ate his enemy’s food, and saw the good in them for himself, but he’s still killing them.
I don’t care if he’s crying on the inside. I don’t care how many times he said he’s sorry to Ramzi.
That actually makes it worse.
Eren made the calculation, the conscientious decision, that the lives of billions of people across multiple civilizations were worth less than that of his race.
Not even his whole race; just the subset of his race he was most familiar with!
Eren and Armin represent two widely similar, yet subtly different philosophies.
For Eren, the world is beautiful, but you have to do cruel things to protect that beauty.
The world is cruel because it is beautiful.
For Armin, the world is beautiful, but it is plagued by cruelty.
The world is cruel, but also beautiful.
SNK made the right choice. Armin was rightly depicted as the superior worldview.
(I have some gripes about how endemic the series seems to think cruelty is to the world, but we’re ignoring that now.)
Ymir is more of a wild card than I thought she’d be.
It seemed straightforward.
Ymir had been beaten and enslaved her whole life, so when Eren offered her freedom and treated her life a human, she sided with him.
That still looks to be what happened, but it seemed like Ymir also genuinely wanted to destroy the world with Eren.
The world treated her with cruelty, so of course she’d want to burn it all. Makes sense, right?
But Ymir, it turns out, is a lot more complicated than that.
She was beaten, enslaved, raped, hunted like an animal, and after all that, she still believed in this world.
She saw two lovers together, and that embodied what made the world worth getting attached to.
Those two lovers were her conquerors. Her oppressors.
She saw the love between two of her slavers, and instead of resentment or jealousy, she simply knew it was beautiful.
If people threaten his freedom, Eren wishes death upon them.
When Ymir is literally enslaved by them, she still acknowledges the beauty of their romance.
It’s a cool layer of complexity to add to their dynamic. They’ve been through similar shit, but they couldn’t be more dissimilar.
My guess is that Ymir is sympathetic to Armin and everyone came back to life through her help.
I know Armin Zeke the credit for that, but…that makes no sense?
Eren defeated Zeke when Ymir sided with him and he started the rumbling.
Eren, via Ymir, is in control, not Zeke, so it makes no sense for Zeke to be able to do any of this.
The only explanation is that Ymir broke from Eren and now Zeke is her new best friend.
…Yeah, this is the part where I talk about the bad stuff with this chapter.
The exact mechanics of how all of this went down is very underexplained.
Zeke being able to reveal himself like he did can be chalked up to Ymir’s power, but if it’s true this was purely Zeke’s doing, then…how?
How was Zee able to do that if Eren is in control? Why would Eren even put Zeke there instead of encasing him in crystal and keeping him physically close by?
This whole final battle has been very underwhelming for me, which is why I didn’t do a review for the last two chapters.
The premise is pretty bland.
The Alliance’s main opposition in this fight are mindless drones. The titans they’re fighting have no humans inside them, they’re just puppets. NPCs.
What drama there has been here has been the same fucking crap we’ve been dealing with for the past few volumes.
Yes, Mikasa, Eren has to die.
I know this is hard for her, but my patience has run out.
Eren told her to her face that they had to kill him if they wanted to win, and then when the Alliance is riding on Falco’s back, they make the final call to kill Eren and this is the face Mikasa makes.
Like this is the first time she’s heard it.
This is the face you’d expect from a child, not a grown ass adult.
That was the moment I became convinced Mikasa would probably die in this fight.
Her head is too far up her ass as this point.
She is utterly incapable of processing the obvious fact that Eren hates her.
Yes, he’s theoretically destroying the world partly for her, but he’s also deranged and too self-absorbed to see that he’s hurt her. He has no real regard for her.
It is beyond annoying that there has been almost zero progression for her character on this issue.
If by this point in the story, she had accepted that Eren had to die, but was still visibly coping with that, then all would be well.
What’s frustrating is that just when it seems like we’ve progressed past that stage, we learn we haven’t.
I also feel that a lot of the major beats of the fight were pointless.
A major point in the battle comes when Armin gets eaten by the Okapi titan, and Mikasa, Annie, and the rest have to rescue him. But Armin didn’t seem to be in any danger of dying, and him being sent to P A T H S was actually a good thing in the end because he was able to win over Zeke.
The whole deal with the explosives around Eren’s neck was also pretty badly handled.
You’d think the hard part would be getting the explosives to the neck and securing them to it, but nope. Pieck took care of that in a couple of panels, and the real meat of the fight is doing the very last thing they need to do to win.
It’s very tedious and contrived.
Instead of a fight that’s interesting because they have to wrestle their way through titans while carrying the bombs, we get a totally generic fight because the story breezed through the hard part and all they have to do now is push a single button to win.
But in the end that entire sequence was pointless because Armin decides to blow everything up anyway.
Jean’s shining moment?
A total waste.
Reiner’s shining moment...wrangling that worm thing?
Also a total waste.
Armin was going to blow it up anyway. There is no way you can say that Eren would have survived Armin’s explosion but for Reiner and Jean’s efforts.
It just defies all common sense.
So yeah, this whole battle was a pretty lackluster climax.
Looking to the future, I think this is it.
There’s only two chapters left, so we need to start wrapping up. My guess is Eren’s likely dead and next chapter starts the epilogue.
Tally-ho.
---
I made a post about all the character’s chances of living or dying by the end of the manga. I figured I’d update those death ratings here.
Eren: Likely Alive --> Lean Dead
Historia: Likely Dead --> Toss Up
Mikasa and Reiner: Lean Dead --> Lean Alive
Annie: Lean Alive --> Likely Alive
Jean and Connie: Likely Dead --> Lean Alive
Pieck: Toss Up --> Lean Alive
Zeke: Lean Alive --> Ded
You’ll notice I’m still rating most of the cast as having a significant chance of dying.
While I do feel that this is probably the end of the battle, I’m choosing to be cautious in my choice of ratings.
Mayhaps Eren will pull a come from behind victory.
Ya never know.
21 notes
·
View notes
Note
why don't you like endgame or civil war
((hoo buddy, idk what brought this up but salt under the cut!! Like... a lot of salt - specifically regarding Endgame lmao
I’m gonna start off with CACW because it’s a short response lol
I don’t like it simply because I was done with the infighting between the Avengers. The found family crumbs we were given in Endgame was something I really wanted to see, and them just... ripping them apart frustrated me lol
honestly, the movie was... fine? Idk, I found it to be a lil slow for my taste (it felt like it just dragged on when I watched it in theaters), and I just don’t care for it in general ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Also, ngl, I’m really bummed that Captain America: Serpent Society was a joke announcement because that sounds dope as hell and I really wanted to see that before I realized it’d been a joke dfgjhdsfhj
but, yeah, literally just because CACW is specifically an infighting movie annoys me to no end so I just won’t watch it again dgsfjhsfdhj
now, Endgame?
fuck Endgame
I. have a lot of issues with it, all of which are major grievances throughout the fandom. I’m pissed they killed Natasha and didn’t even bother giving her a fucking funeral because, I quote from Joe Russo, “Well, Tony does not have another movie. Tony is done. And Natasha has another film. And Marvel Universe obviously does not have to move forward linearly anymore. But that character still has more screen time coming.” (see here) and that annoys the hell out of me. She’s getting another movie - great! So you killed one of the few characters doing her fucking best to keep everything together at the compound, the one who was taking charge, give her a big role, and then murk her and... give her nothing but a brief mention at the end. Like... what the fuck? Natasha deserved so much better than what she was given. Tony’s funeral could’ve (and, frankly, should’ve) been a funeral for him, Natasha, and Vision because god forbid we see anyone mourn Vision other than Wanda
(actually this post covers how Endgame fucked over the MCU women perfectly, though Wanda’s not mentioned :c )
plus... Tony’s not done lol - he’s still a massive figure in the films/shows despite RDJ not acting in them, so his character has left shockwaves that aren’t dying any time soon. Natasha... basically disappeared, and I believe she would’ve been dropped completely if it wasn’t for the fact she does have a film coming out soon. Which, frankly, seems awesome and all, but it’s a film that goes back to post-CACW pre-IW and... frankly doesn’t give me any reason to understand why that means she didn’t get a funeral. She’s not coming back in future movies/shows that are in present MCU timeline - her movie is set in the past. She could’ve gotten a decent sendoff
now, Clint’s arc as Ronin rubs me the wrong way. I know it’s a huge thing in the comics, and it’s not him taking a different mantle that I have an issue with. It’s the fact he, a white man, went around murdering people and got off scot-free. Yes, he was targeting genuinely bad people, but... to show that, they specifically singled out Mexican cartels and the yakuza (Japanese mafia, essentially) - so, in other words, the bad guys were people of color! I feel like I don’t need to explain how fucked up that is. And, to clarify, I love Clint! Clint is honestly one of my favorite characters, and the whole thing was just handled... poorly in the film
Tony’s arc genuinely hurts. This is a man who has suffered for years and has tried to make things right, and finally got a chance to settle down. He finally retired from the Avengers, finally settled down, and had a fucking life he could enjoy despite his ghosts, and yet... His arc ends with a message of “tortured soul finally gets rest by dying”. Because, y’know, it’s great seeing yet another long-suffering character only reaching peace through death, because god forbid they let characters heal! He could’ve still caused the second Snap, and he could’ve survived. He could’ve finally been able to step away for good and focus on his family, focus on recovering, and be truly happy. What’s so wrong with letting him stay alive so he can rest and be with his family? What’s so wrong with letting a long-suffering character finally find peace after one last bang?
plus it pisses me off that they’re now using him as a reasoning as to why bad things are still happening. Why is this person the bad guy? Because Tony Stark somehow may or may not have done something that hurt them! Even though most of that really stems from Howard or Obadiah. Tony just ends up getting the blame in their place. He’s just an easy target to use, much like the tesseract seems to be the go-to answer for why things go wrong. But this is a different train of thought
Steve’s ending pisses me off just as much as the next person lmao. You take a character who has acknowledged he no longer belongs in the past (which, funnily enough, was written by the Russos), aaaaaaand have him go back to the past while ignoring two important people in his life that were still right there. He got Bucky and Sam back, and he leaves them. His arc is ruined within a matter of minutes, and it paints a hella bad picture of him in the process. He goes back in time to stay with Peggy (which ultimately destroys her own arc, and the fact she’s a person outside of her relationship (or lack thereof) with him because, y’know, why have her be able to move on and be her own person?), and we’re supposed to believe he’s fine with everything he knows from the future? Fine with knowing Bucky’s trapped with HYDRA and is suffering as the Winter Soldier? Fine with knowing HYDRA has infested SHIELD from day one? Fine with knowing Howard and Maria are going to die? Fine with royally fucking up the timelines? We’re supposed to believe he sat back and did nothing with all of that? They could’ve had him still hand the shield over to Sam - they could’ve let Steve stay an Avenger without the mantle
also the fact the Russos said he didn’t recognize Red Skull when he returned to Vormir to return the soul stone? Like... what the fuck?? Not to mention he literally returns the stone to Vormir, which “soul for a soul”, and they didn’t bring Nat back that way??
and now onto Thor. Thor... holy fuck is this hitting something personal for me. Thor was ridden with guilt - he was furious with himself, hated himself, and blamed himself for failing to stop the Snap. He fell into a massive depression, and... was promptly danced around as laughing stock. Like, “oh! look at Thor! he’s fat and drunk because he’s depressed haha!” - like fuck off. It’s not funny in any form. His suffering was made into a joke and it pisses me off because I suffer from depression. A lot of people suffer from depression. It’s not funny. It’s fucking terrifying at times. I wasted a shit ton of money on a stupid online sim game because it was a distraction - it gave me... god, I wouldn’t even say temporary happiness, but it gave me something to temporarily help, and I still hate myself for doing it. It was a poor decision on my part, and I wish I could change it. And, during that time, I was scared because I couldn’t see myself pulling out of it. I thought I was gonna feel that way forever. I called out of work multiple times because there were days I couldn’t stop crying (something I still feel horrible for doing), I couldn’t get myself to contact any of my friends for months, and it was all because the medication I was on at the time... stopped working. Thankfully, my depression doesn’t work in a way that makes me a danger to myself, so that wasn’t an issue, but it still fucking sucked. And to see a character that I could relate to on such a personal level treated as laughing stock fucking hurt. I’m not sharing this for sympathy - I’m sharing this because it Thor’s arc hit home and it’s literally the main reason why I will not watch Endgame again
this is more of a nitpick than anything else, but... I didn’t really care for Carol in it tbh? Which is unfortunately because Captain Marvel is one of my absolute favorite movies! And I’m well aware she was introduced in Endgame while CM was being drafted, but that in itself is annoying?? Because Carol was originally going to be introduced in AoU, but was cut because it wasn’t going to introduce her character properly. And yet they decide to introduce her character in a clusterfuck of a movie before her movie is in the final stages, and proceed to release her movie first and then give a complete different characterization in her following appearance
honestly I just wanna cover this now to clarify some things regarding Carter and her backstory: the only reason I keep Endgame as is is because it felt easier for me to do so for the purpose of bending canon for specific threads. I wanted to stay as true to the given plots as possible to help with fudging of both the movies and her background, and also because I didn’t want anyone to feel like I was trying to force my own headcanons onto them, y’know?
I’m just gonna plug this here because fuck it lol, but I did start a fix-it fic regarding Endgame that you can read here! I... probably won’t finish it tbh, and I haven’t gone over it in a hot minute so it might be riddled with errors ahah - plus I’m not sure about how I wrote the characters! I get nervous when writing canon characters because I feel like I’ll miss their characterization completely, which is actually why I,,, rarely rp canon characters dgfjhgsfdhj
also the image in the doc was created by @/archervale!!
#ooc#((I think I covered what I wanted and I hope it makes sense dgjhdfh#I'm pretty tired but I'm doing laundry so I figured I'd answer this while I wait#but yeah I don't care for CACW and I honest to god hate Endgame#the potential is there and it just never reached it))#((I'm not even gonna touch the Russos directing style#'hey guys we're gonna film a wedding sIKE IT'S A FUNERAL'#like?? MAJORLY different event fellas#also I'm literally going off what I remember from Endgame so I'm sure there's QUITE a bit I'm missing#but I'm not watching it to make a bigger salt post lol#I don't hate watch things because I would much rather watch something I'd enjoy#tbh I don't understand hate watching at all but that's a different conversation gsdfjhdfhj))#death mention tw#depression tw
12 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
jogastills
J O G A
shonus-blog
Untitled
itsrashilohaan
Rashi Lohaan
agenmaduhitam
Agen Madu Klanceng Blitar