#this is just a very small thing that absolutely anyone can do to make the culture here just a little better
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WHEN THEY TEACH YOU HOW TO PLAY SOCCER. (1/2)
multiple blue lock characters x reader
tags: established relationship, fluff, tooth rotting fluff.
taglist: n/a currently.
characters: alexis ness, nagi seishiro, eita otoya, nijiro nanase, chigiri hyoma, reo mikage, karasu tabito, aryu jyubei, gender neutral!reader.
word count: 2156
extra notes: haiii guys!
ALEXIS NESS:
- Oh Ness is in absolute joy when you ask him! It's like his world lights up again and he nods. Though his playing is centralized about Kaiser, he still finds it in him to make it about you.
- He ends up renting private places for you to play with or against him as he doesn't want anyone interrupting your focus.
- He lends you his knee guards and says he can play without them. (Even though his knees are covered in dirt after.)
- He also brings a bunch of extra stuff along. Water bottles, hair ties, gloves, multiple balls, foldable goals, anything to make the strain easier on you.
- "Ah, do you need me to that for you?" "Wait, let me fix your Jersey!" He's constantly fawning over you.
- He's very careful about how he teaches you as he doesn't want to crush your hopes to learn in any way! So he'll teach you how to play as best he can. He's constantly touching you and showing you the best ways to position yourself, complimenting almost everything you do.
- Though, eventually you ask him to play against you on a fair level. He agrees reluctantly, then sweeps the floor with you. Still, he's sighing and patting yourself head after to apologize.
- Throughout learning soccer, you also get to learn more about Ness himself. You learn his position, you see his pure passion, you feel a bit mushy as you see his small pointed smile... It doesn't feel too bad to lose for him.
- Even if you aren't really meant to play soccer yourself, you'll still be at all of his games, shouting your heart out to make sure he has the motivation to continue his goal of winning.
NAGI SEISHIRO:
- Nagi is a lot more confused when you ask. Whatever your reason is, he doesn't understand why you took an interest in it.
- "Are you sure you want me to teach you?" He asks it a few times but you always answer with the same vigor, so he ends up giving up and complying with your demands.
- Learning with Nagi is very different than you expected. He sometimes trains you by him climbing on your back as he's too tired, but usually he's telling you the best ways to win.
- He's very focused on showing you all the ropes, occasionally giving you advice he made up on the spot.
- He never goes easy on you in a match though. You try your absolute hardest but never beat Nagi. He's always putting his full effort into each match. He always gives pointers after to tell you how you can improve.
- Most training sessions are short but constant. You both usually train after school, or if you're both in Blue Lock, in a quiet room. Usually your bedroom considering you like to see how many things Nagi can trap.
- To motivate you, he occasionally bets on ice cream or on who carries who. You've accepted by now that you'll never win one. Even if he says, "You might do it this time..." You still get your ass beat.
- Reo jokingly tells him "the student becomes the master" and he realized he's taking Reo's job. It makes him a bit happy to see how far he's come.
EITA OTOYA:
- "...Did my skills impress you that much?" He's a bit happy about the fact you asked. However, if you say any other reason than because of him, he sighs.
- Eita is a sucker for your attention, so he makes sure you're wearing his jersey when you play together. He just was admiring you at first, then he got serious and buckled down to help train you.
- He took a while explaining the positions and which one he played, even made some notes on your hand for you to help understand. He then tried showing you all of the ropes.
- He sometimes uses terms from random series in an attempt to explain things better to you.
- Note, Eita isn't the best teacher. It's clear he's trying, but he has an issue with explaining things. Even if its an anime he likes, he goes off on different tangents. A lot.
- So by the time you're trying to play, you're an absolute mess who's, albeit trying, not that good.
- Karasu ends up being the one to point it out, to which Eita shrugs. He doesn't really care if he didn't explain good, he just enjoyed spending time with you.
- Also, it was pretty fun to see you fall on your face. He'd occasionally try and catch you in an attempt to woo you. Never works. He's not that good at it.
NIJIRO NANASE:
- You bet believe he gets red in the face when you first ask. It's such a simple request however it seems to shoot stats through his mind. He's extremely into cute things you do, even if they're small actions.
- "Ah, if ya would really like me to teach ya, I will." He's a sweetheart, immediately gets all of his gear together and asks around to see if anyone has any spare stuff he could borrow for you. He ends up buying some because he's worried it won't protect you enough otherwise.
- Then he throws everything together and smiles. At first, you're really bad. Nanase is doing an amazing time with explaining, but you're having trouble keeping up.
- Sometimes he'll take a stick and draw it out on the ground to help you figure it out.
- "So you wanna keep the ball on your inner foot, otherwise ya might lose focus." He smiles at the end, "That makin' sense?"
- You always nod.
- Playing against him is always him going easy on you. Even if you tell him not to, he will.
- He lets you have his head band to make sure everything is kept in check. He even massages your back after and tells you how great you did.
- His teaching methods are a bit more successful, however they do not stick with you forever. Regardless, he's very happy you indulged yourself in something he enjoys.
- Always gives you cold water and an ice pack after to take care of you.
CHIGIRI HYOMA:
- Chigiri actually pauses whatever he's doing to just quietly stare at you. He then sighs. "You really want to learn about soccer?" He wants to make absolutely sure.
- He actually quizzes you a bit before he starts teaching you. If you don't know a lot about soccer besides watching him play? He'll laugh and bit and ask if you're doing it for him. If you say yes, he'll get a dumbfounded look, with a soft blush, then nod.
- "Alright. I have to appreciate this moment." He looks a bit happy at something so simple.
- Nearly the entire time, he's fretting over you. He's a bit worried about new players getting hurt.
- Expect if you get hurt, even a little bit, he's dashing over to your aid and tending to however big a scar it is.
- While he won't give you his leg guards, he will constantly give you pointers.
- He prefers teaching you by playing on your team. He'll either get Igaguri (wants the easiest to beat player) to play against you in a match or he'll try and get Ego to let him train with the Blue Lock man. Always works out in the end.
- He's always speeding past you when you're playing and you can't help but be awestruck at his appearance at times. Sometimes you get distracted when he's running past you.
- After each game, you walk over to him and pull up his pants leg to make sure his ACL is alright. He enjoys the doting, yet tells you what you need to focus aon after watching you play.
REO MIKAGE:
- Another boy that's absolutely ecstatic that you want to learn something he's so passionate about. He ends up staring at you a lot that day out of dazedness. He loves how cute you are...
- Almost immediately, he's buying you intense leg gear for protection, he even buys you a helmet as a joke.
- He lets you borrow his soccer VR set and it goes horribly. You kick him extremely hard in the side of his legs and he choses from then on to not take any chances. The VR set is banned after that.
- He also tries giving you rewards for doing things well. He did it with Nagi, so he assumes it would work with you. The second he asked, you said you wanted a kiss for every goal.
- Best believe he was flustered and agreed. You didn't get too many kisses, but you got more than you would've without motivation.
- He constantly is leaving or ignoring important meetings just to talk to you about soccer. Whenever someone shows interest in the sport and tries to be up to the same level, he gets excited. Especially when it's his lovely partner.
- Sometimes you two will get sun burnt from being out all day, however you two just laugh it off.
- Reo enjoys whenever you clap for him after a goal, he also enjoys showing off his copying ability as much as he can.
- If you end up taking it as serious as he does, he'll attend every single one of your matches. If you ever play against each other, expect sweet talk instead of shit talk.
#bllk#bllk x you#blue lock#alexis ness x reader#alexis ness#nagi seishiro#nagi seishiro x reader#otoya eita#otoya eita x reader#nanase nijiro#nanase nijiro x reader#chigiri hyoma#chigiri hyoma x reader#reo mikage#reo mikage x reader#cupid’s bangers
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🏔️The Retreat 🏔️- Chapter V
Prologue | Chapter I | Chapter II | Chapter III | Chapter IV | Misc references & details
Summary: Through the promptings of others Lorena and Gale are both forced to confront their personal feelings for each other, while acknowledging the potential for romance & their future.
Pairing: Gale Cleven x Lorena (black fem oc)
Warnings: None
Tropes: Slow Burn, opposites attract, forbidden love
Word Count: 2K
PART V - Major
Gale had never witnessed a winter prep like this before. Lorena had a strange way of making everything feel like a party with all her personality and ideas to make the mundane fun. There were wood splitting competitions among the boys and stacking competitions. There was no quarrelling as Lorena and Rose were in charge of the harvest and for the first time they were ahead of the schedule in September. A freak frost would have very few consequences on their way of life. Lorena’s sister's visit seemed to do wonders for her well being and in the weeks since her departure there’d already been two letters. Gale kept Felicia’s words close to his chest. He found himself admiring Lorena more and more. Admitting the way her eye’s light when she smiles, the cadence of her laugh, her sense of humour and glamorous nature. He found himself indulging her stories and whims more too. If Felicia thought there was a possibility of happiness between them, then Gale thought there could be a possibility that Lorena could see him the same way all the others did.
“What are you moping about Gale, us soldiers not moving efficiently enough for the Major?” Lorena asks, coming in with a basket of apples to be sliced and hung to dry. Gale smiles at her teasing.
“Wasn’t moping, I just resent there’s nothing to complain about. It’s not good for my reputation” Gale admits. Lorena lights up before laughing a touch. Gale had been opening up to her, it was a wonderful thing. Absolutely wonderful that he was finding his way out of his shell, and beginning to trust her like she trusted him.
“I’ll make a mess of something, you can be sure of it so keep some complaints in your reserves Major” Lorena mocks. He’d inherited the nickname not as a form of respect but admonishment. His small margin for error and serious precision had garnered him the nickname from Lorena. She didn’t understand what surviving a Montana winter was like, what preparation was required to ensure comfort and survival but Gale did. He’d survived the prison camps with next to nothing in terms of food and clothing, and would never endure anything like it again.
“I don’t think you understand how the chain of command works,” Gale says, taking far more than he should. His heart had never let him be too harsh with Lorena. From the moment she appeared in the lodge he had a soft spot for her and that would never change.
“I’m just being a pest, I don’t need a court martial for insubordination” Lorena winks filling the sink with water, it only proves her knowledge of the chain of command. She’d learned a thing or two about the military structure during the 101st’s reunion a few months ago.
“Food is important, it’s always better to have too much of it stored just in case we get snowed in, or the trains get snowed out and provisions stop making their way here. Or we have a long winter” Gale explains.
“When’s the last time anyone can really get in or out?” Lorena asks.
“Depends on the year but after November you’re stuck until around March” Gale explains truthfully. Hesitation washes over Lorena as she does a quick calculation. It would be five months away from her family, five months without consistent communication with them. She’d been silently weighing her options since Felicia’s departure. The heartache of her ex had settled into a bearable wound. As much as she wanted to see them she didn’t want to be forced to remain in a town that felt too muddled by a complicated past and a would be increasingly frustrating present. Lorena didn’t know if she could ever truly be okay with the sight of the man she once loved more than anything happy with someone else. It was the defining reason she had yet to return home, and somehow that bit of self preservation felt cheap. Especially around the likes of Rose and Gale who faced insurmountable challenges head on. A war hero who survived with his sanity intact, and a window making her own way in the wilderness.
The sound of the water stops and Lorena looks up to see Gale has stopped the sink from overflowing. The playfulness is gone from his expression and has been replaced by concern. In a perfect world Lorena could have it all. Her family, friends and home, along with Gale, Rose and the others. Allowing her a moment to herself Gale places the apples into the water where they bob to the surface.
“What is it?” He asks finally.
“My parents miss me a lot, this will be my first Christmas away from them” Lorena confesses.
Her words are just that and Gale can’t help but wonder if there wasn’t another reason for her hesitation. The indication that she missed her ex, that he was one of the reasons she wanted to return. Felicia had been right about his feelings for Lorena, perhaps the older sister was also correct about her sister’s inevitable willingness to take the scoundrel who betrayed her back.
“You can get back home in the spring, it’ll be safer to travel to and from. Felicia can come back with you” he offers now that a world without her under his roof has become inconceivable to him. Lorena scoffs knowing full well that it wouldn’t just be Felicia, it would be her brother and mother as well. Reaching into the basin Lorena begins scrubbing the skin of the apples in preparation for their preservation. Gale stands by her side instead of returning to his task of unloading the hay with the others. His eyes wash over her as stands carrying more than she should emotionally. To Gale there were too many positive qualities to the woman that she should have no insecurities. Feeling the weight of his gaze, Lorena meets him. Something about his blue eyes always seemed to ground her, settle her restlessness and put her at ease. It had been so since the very first time she saw him.
“Gale, we need you - there’s another delivery to be signed for” one of the guys yells from outside.
Gale, we need you. Lorena smiles at the truth of the statement.
“I’m coming!” he shouts, turning back to the door before looking back at Lorena. So it would be a fight after all.
“Whenever you decide to leave I’ll make the trip with you, and if you don’t want to go back your family is welcome here” Gale says with the same commitment to his people that he’d had in the war. It brings a genuine smile to Lorena’s face. The thought of Gale waking through her hometown where he’d stick out like a black swan.
“Maybe you could spend a winter with me sometime and enjoy all the perks of city living.” She suggests making him smile. As long as Lorena saw her future intertwined with his, Gale could be at ease.
“Definitely, I’ll probably be in late. Have dinner with Rose” He says far more comfortable with stepping out now. Even if it was only a few feet away Lorena’s melancholy weighed him down more than anything else. Lorena’s smile had made it into his dreams and into his heart. It was the only way he wanted to see her now.
…
Rose and Lorena sit on the porch swing watching the boys finish up loading the last few bales of hay for the day. Rose had prepared a hearty dinner that would surely put them to sleep after providing them with adequate nourishment.
“You’re good for him,” the older woman says.
“Huh?” Lorena questions.
“You’re good for him,” Rose repeats, looking directly at Gale. “He was so angry last year - this entire experience was a nightmare. He hasn’t been angry in months and now he’s finally starting to settle” she says.
“Benefit of time” Lorena says.
“Not just time Lorena, you” Rose says.
“Well, I’m glad I can help,” Lorena responds, making Rose smile.
“Life’s too short to deny yourself the good because of those who’ve mistreated you. We’re all on borrowed time, don’t squander it. You’re young and beautiful and deserve to be loved.”
“Rose? Are you feverish, have you been smoking wild herbs?” Lorena asks, appalled by the older woman's frankness.
“I see the way he looks at you, I’m around. Gale doesn’t make a decision without considering your opinion of comfort. He’s too good a man for most and you’re too good a woman for most. Aside from the obvious facts there’s chemistry there that can’t be denied. Just think about the kind of love he’s capable of Lorena. If he’s been kind, generous and fair with you when you were a stranger.” Rose says hitting Lorena with sobering truths. Looking away from the boys Lorena turns to face Rose who nods with all knowing eyes.
“Gale’s a good man, his heart is set on that gorgeous starlet fiancé that ran away” Lorena sighs knowing intimately.
“He deserves far better than a woman that left him, the man he is and ignored what he was going through.” Rose says and it’s a point Lorena can agree on. “And so do you. I can’t imagine the amount of stupid on that ex-husband of yours. A lady like you being overlooked after staying and being loyal even to this day. Darling you’ve done enough for him. It’s time for you to live for you.” Rose suggests.
Looking at Rose it’s clear as day she’s full of wisdom, she’d always had an omniscient quality to her. Lorena’s silence is only further confirmation of the complicated web of feelings between Gale and herself. Reggie had courted her differently; with large declarations and ostentatious presentations of his affections. Reggie was loud in his love and it was all Lorena had come to know. Gale loved his corners, the quiet and operating in the peripheries if his expertise and leadership were not required.
“So you think I should do what my Ma says and remarry?” Lorena asks, looking into wise eyes.
“I think every woman deserves a taste of the best life has to offer them. You haven’t had it yet and you owe yourself that experience. Someone who cares so much they start digging out an extra cellar in August to prepare enough provisions so that the live-in princess is comfortable” Rose winks before heading into her home.
Lorena sits at a loss for words. Gale stands across the field leading the men in the loading of the barn. Lorena had thought him handsome from day one but she hadn’t thought she was even a contender for his affections, her head hadn’t been in that space when she first arrived. She was nursing her wounds. There was no longing for passion. Only longing for the heartache to cease. And it had. When and where Lorena didn’t know. She could place it. Sometime during the summer after many good days and full weeks. Among the smiles and laughter she’d found peace and Gale had been there every step of the way. Every breakfast, every supper, every night. Every morning he waited to hear movement before getting his day started, and every night he walked across the hall to look in on her before going to bed himself. There’d never been any room or reason for her to think it was something more than otherworldly courtesy. But perhaps with Gale love was the little things, the subtleties, the small kindnesses that add up over time, the careful consideration that makes life easier. The quiet consistency and loyalty that makes you feel a little invincible.
Authors Note: Thanks for reading 💖 I've been in the worst funk lately but the social media algorithm gods have been force feeding so much Austin that my creativity was "re-sparked". Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Let me know how you feel in the comments and re-blogs. The next part is coming and its 🍵 😉
#austin butler imagine#austin butler#austin butler x reader#austin butler x you#austin butler x black reader#black authors#masters of the air#masterlist#major buck cleven x oc#major buck cleven#major gale
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I have an au that I thought you might enjoy. It's inspired by Magernia from Pokemon if you've ever seen it's movie. If not, it's OK the plot isn't the important part. What is important is that Tim is not exactly fully flesh.
When Tim first becomes Robin, he knows that he won't be able to hide his partly robotic nature from Bruce for very long so he tells him immediately that he was in an "accident" when he was younger so both of his arms are highly advanced prosthetics. He doesn't elaborate on what the "accident" was and gets uncomfortable when it's brought up. Shockingly, Bruce does respect this and allows Tim to not tell him. He puts the information in Tim's medical file and calla it a day.
Alfred also knows about Tim's arms due to him being the one to normally patch Tim up, if anyone does. Dick however was not told because both Bruce and Tim thought the other told Dick. He gets to find out when one of Tim's hands gets crushed on patrol one night and Tim looks at the mess of wires and metal and just huffs, "this is gunna be a nightmare to fix up, but at least it was only my hand. Could have been a lot worse, right?" Nightwing's freakout is how Tim realized he had no idea Dick didn't know. It was a mess and a half to clean up.
However, Tim did lie to them about his "accident". They find out when Tim gets shot with something two years into being Robin and there is a hole nearly 2 inches across right where his intestines should be. Only there's no blood or gore, only wires, gears, and broken metal. Tim has no flesh insides, simply complex mechanics which are now causing his whole body to glitch out quite a bit. This has the added effect of making Bruce and Dick go absolutely *feral* on the Rouge who just fucked up Tim so badly so they can get him home.
On the way back to the cave, Tim pipes up with glitches and static lacing his voice, "ne-ed-ed-ed to goooo to Dra-Dra-Drake manor-or-or for relac-ace-acement partssss." And well. Bruce and Dick have absolutely no idea how Tim's body works or how to fix him so they don't really have any choice. Bruce has to carry him through the house, through a hidden door into the basement, through two more locked secret doors, and into what looks like a storage room. The walls are lined with wooden boxes and Tim points a shaking finger at one. Inside of it is another Tim??? Only this one's chest panels are open showing a small, empty space about the size of a baseball and cube shapped.
Tim opens his own chest to show that he's fully robotic and his cube space is filled with a silver box with a heart drawn on the front. Tim takes it out carefully and manages to transfer it to the new body before his goes completely limp in Bruce's arms, seeming dead. The New Tim's chest closes as his eyes light up and he says, "Systems Intilizing. Connection complete. Consciousness Transfer Successful. Rebooting... Rebooting... Rebooting. System check... system check passed. Now coming online." The New Tim sits up and says, "OK, everything's good now. Can you put it in the corner so I can fix that old one up later?"
The following interrogating leads to Tim admitting that the "accident" was his whole body and soul getting sealed in an artifact and instead of his parents dealing with the fall out of their heir dying under mysterious circumstances, they contacted a wizard who was able to make the box the artifact of stored in and they had robotic replacement bodies made for Tim so that he could continue to be a "normal kid". Tim insists this is a good thing because while the bodies can and do break, the artifact is indestructible so Bruce doesn't need to worry about him Actually Dying! This is Not Helpful.
Over the following years, Bruce works with any advanced robotics people that he can trust to make better and better bodies for Tim. He wants to let Tim be able to Feel again, rather than just be told the numbers and data. He wants his son to be able to remember what cold feels like instead of just knowing that the metal he touched is 17.6 degrees, or to be able to taste and digest food again instead of just drinking oil or plugging into the wall socet to recharge his batteries.
Also, it's always an Experience, a Rite Of Passage at this point for each new family member to be traumatized the first time Tim blocks a lethal shot for them with his own body and takes Massive damage only to be revealed that he's got a robotic body.
Also, the artifact Tim is locked in? He will never let anyone see it because it's a necklace. It's not big, or flashy, but a simple braided gold chain with an obsidian pendant that has a single ruby at the center. Tim knows at least one of these fuckers would try to wear him.
One of them absolutely would try to wear him. He is so right for that and should protect the necklace at all costs.
I absolutely loved this AU so much. The buildup was fantastic as well. Also, good dad Bruce here with him wanting Tim to be able to experience the world again. It would be so cute if the family had little celebration parties for each milestone (Steph for sure decorated the cake with a "You can taste sour foods again!" or whatever milestone they reached). They just have a really nice family dinner and spend the night playing games, watching movies, pulling pranks, etc.
I'm curious if Tim's robot body can send data to the batcomputer. Like, can he just send recordings of stuff he's seen?
This could tie into the AU where he goes around taking pictures of the Bats after or before he figures out their identities. Instead of lugging around a camera, he takes the data for that night, encrypts it, and then edits the photos for his own perusal.
Overall, super cool concept I'd love to see more of
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Day 5: When they want a romantic night, and instead you’re obsessing over a fictional character; jealousy jealousy <3
Part of the Love, Amour, Aur Pyaar drabble series for February! (lol)
Word count: 0.8k, 0.7k, 0.9k, 0.7k, 0.8k, 0.6k, 0.9k (respectively, for a total of ~5.8k) again, wayyyyy too long :(
Content and Warnings: soft yandere (though can be read as not yandere, for most of them), love, jealousy, SPOILERS FOR JJK AND SNK (though I think everyone knows about the current state of jujutsu kaisen and shingeki no kyojin finished ages ago now), insecurity, threats from Y/n, Hoseok's section gets spicy, mature 18+ content, baby talk in Hoseok's, grinding, gn reader for most of them except Hoseok's where reader is very vaguely implied to be afab, kissing, throwing pillows, implied cosplay sex (?) for Namjoon, lingerie in Namjoon's, isolation from loved ones, UNEDITED (I thought this day would be pretty tame, but with with this big paragraph, maybe it isn't?)
Author's note: Beep beep boop. Beep boop beep. Beep boop. Boop beep beep. Boop. Boop beep boop. Boop beep boop beep beep. Boop beep boop. Boop boop. ...Enjoy!
Seokjin (ft. Levi Ackerman from snk):
“It isn’t fair, you know, the fact that he had to go through so much. He was humanity’s strongest but really he was just an abused boy who did the best he could. He deserved so much better. I mean, at least he didn’t die. God knows that Hajime Isayama loves to kill all his characters.”
Seokjin just gritted his teeth, keeping his eyes locked with the wall.
“But like, still, considering everything, if one person deserved a true happy ending it was him.” You waved around your hand like a professor emphasizing the point they were trying to make as the other flipped through the pages of the manga you’d been talking about for the past fifteen minutes.
“Like, at least most of the other characters from Paradis had somewhat normal childhoods. They had some sort of happy memories, but Levi never got to have that joy. Everything in his life, when he would begin to cherish them, would get snatched from him! Petra, Gunther, Eld, Oluo, Furlan, Isabel, Erwin—all taken from him!” You pouted as you gazed down at Levi’s bandaged face, your frown only deepening at the sight of his missing fingers.
In a hushed voice, you said, “if I were Isayama, I’d have given him the best ending possible.” Then you let out a sigh before moving on from the sad page of Levi’s injuries. “But then again, Isayama barely gives anyone a happy ending, so the fact that Levi even survives is a miracle,” you mumbled near the end.
Jin just hummed, refusing to give you any proper response.
Just how many times do you need to discuss Levi when he’s right there in front of you? Quite rude of you to be talking about some other man in his thirties when your boyfriend has been sitting beside you for the past twenty five minutes. This should be considered cheating right? Emotional cheating, as you gush over some other guy instead of your handsome boyfriend? Seokjin sure thought so.
“You know the manga has been done for years, right?” Seokjin couldn’t bother hiding his snippy tone crossing his arms across his chest. “Maybe it’s time you get over it, and focus on more important things.”
Your brows furrowed together, looking up at him for the first time since you brought down the small stack of manga volumes from your bookshelf. You were greeted with the sight of you boyfriend sitting at the absolute far end of the couch from you, arms crossed, back straight, as he glared a hole into the wall beside the tv. He refused to look at you, even though you were sure he could feel your gaze with how he momentarily shifted in his seat.
“What’s this ‘more important thing’ I should be focusing on instead of Levi?” you asked, as you shut the book and placed it with the others on the coffee table in front of you.
Seokjin just shrugged his shoulders. “Idk, maybe your handsome boyfriend who finally had some free time today? You know, maybe him?”
His lips were downturned again, as you moved to sit right beside him.
You tried to fight back your smile by pressing a finger to your chin as if you were thinking. “But Levi doesn’t have free time today?”
Jin turned towards you so quickly, you were afraid he’d pull a muscle.
You giggled at the affronted look he gave you, mouth hanging open in disbelief.
“I’m just kidding!” you defended yourself, trying to pull his arms from his chest but failing miserably. “I’m sorry, okay? My gorgeous boyfriend is you, and I shouldn't be talking about some fictional character when he’s gotten dressed up so well for me. Isn’t that right?”
You managed to pull his arms away from his chest to give you a view of the nice clothes he had put on specifically for you. He wore your favourite clothes today, hoping you’d fawn over him, only for you to spend the better part of the past while talking about some drawing from a book. He thought you hadn’t noticed the effort he had put into today, but hearing evidence if your absolute attention had red creeping up his neck and onto his ears.
You threw yourself into his chest, causing his arms to wrap around you to steady the two of you. You nuzzled into him for a few seconds before looking up at him with a small grin.
“I love you, you know? More than anything and anyone. And I care more about our happy ending than anyone else’s, even if it is humanity’s strongest’s.” You strained up to press a kiss against his neck which left a chill against Jin’s skin, before settling down in his lap. Pleasure coursing through you at the sight of Jin’s pleased smile from below.
His arms tightened around you before he bent down to press against your forehead. “As long as you know who matters most,” he mumbled against your skin.
Yoongi (ft. Blade from hsr):
You finished up the simulated universe world. Even though you hadn’t gotten great relics this time around, you still got to collect the weekly rewards, so you couldn’t be too mad. But you had to admit, it did sting a bit.
You switched back to the character screen after salvaging the useless relics that you obtained and checking on your stock of stellar jades. Blade stared back at you as you fussed with the relics that you had currently adorned him with and tried to level up the one promising relic you had obtained. When you ended up with defense being levelled up for the second time, you gave up on the relic, instead just salvaging it as well.
You sighed as you clicked back to Blade, seeing him stare back at you before performing his idle, bringing his sword up to his eyes, inspecting it before bringing it behind to his back as it disappeared into shiny gold.
“Bladie, Bladie, Bladie… Why is it so hard to find good relics for you…?” You rested your chin in the palm of your hm gazing lazily at your monitor.
Blade, of course, did not reply. Instead he stared right through your soul as if putting the blame right on you.
“Hmm… I was so lucky when building Kafka, but the relics just suck when I’m farming for you.”
You clicked out of the character screen and instead ran around the map with Blade, listening to NPC dialogue and fulfilling random small tasks for stellar jade. You were out of trailblaze power and had nothing of significance to do. So you just enjoyed watching Blade’s mechanics as he interacted (being pretty liberal with the definition of “interact”) with other characters and took in his visuals.
He was your favourite character when you first started playing honkai star rail, but with time you realized you should probably try and make him stronger with more elite relics. It was harder than you originally thought. And now, even after a month of only farming for Blade, you had yet to pull what would be a legendary relic for him.
As you lamented your poor luck, you failed to notice the door to your gaming room opening behind you.
Yoongi creeped up behind you, listening to the music streaming its way out of the speakers he got for your set-up on your last birthday. He wasn’t surprised to see a zoomed in view of Blade’s face on your screen when he peered over your shoulder. He had expected it as soon as he’d heard the hsr soundtrack.
He stopped behind your chair, starling you as he began to speak. “Here I was hoping to see my wonderful spouse after work today, but instead I see them on a date with some depressed guy in my own home.” He sighed for effect, placing his hands on the back of your chair as he leaned over you to look at your screen.
“Oh hush,” you told Yoongi.
“What? So I can’t even speak up when I catch you with your second boyfriend now?” He placed his chin atop your head.
You laughed a bit, jostling Yoongi around a bit. “Don’t you know it’s rude to interrupt a date?” You finally played along.
“Not if it's between you and Blade, no it’s not. He doesn’t get to steal you away from me.” He wrapped his arms around your neck, holding you close against him almost as though he was pulling you away from Blade’s reach.
You held onto his arms as you laughed, feeling him press a kiss to the top of your head. Between laughs, you said, “Stop! You’re embarrassing me in front of my date.”
“Fuck your date.” He removed his arms from around you, spinning your chair around so you faced him. “You’re going on a date with me now.”
He pulled you up and out of your chair into his arms. He pulled you right into him until not even one air molecule was in between your bodies.
“Get dressed, I’m taking you out for dinner.” He reached a hand behind your intertwined bodies and turned off your pc with a pointed click.
He was willing to entertain your interest in other men so long as they were like Blade: fictional. The day he feels your interest swerving to real men, he wouldn’t take it so lightly.
Hoseok (ft. Choso from jjk):
“Look at him being all emo but so sweet!” you cooed at the man on the screen.
Choso was speaking to Yuuji about being brothers and just being all adorable, and it was getting on Hoseok’s nerves.
“Like when you look at him, you’d think he’s gonna be all grouchy or mean, but look at him—fuck, I’d ruin him.”
Hoseok’s eye was twitching.
“Like he’s so pure? But so hot? But so loveable? But so destroyable? I’d definitely ruin him.”
Hoseok’s blood pressure was rising.
“He’d be such a good father to my kids.”
Hoseok’s patience broke. “Well too bad Choso’s not real then since you wanna date him over me so badly!”
You jumped at Hoseok’s loud proclamation. You weren’t prepared for the enraged look on your sweet boyfriend’s face. Had you gone too far?
“I wasn’t being serious, baby,” you started, speaking as softly and level as possible. “He’s just a character that I find cute.”
Hoseok scoffed, his lips pulled into a frightening, annoyed half-smirk. “Yeah, a character that you want to have sex with.”
You placed a hand on his thigh, trying to calm him down. “Babe, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Pfft, so now you feel bad? Not when you were talking about how another guy was so hot and how you want to have kids with him? And how cute you find him? Do I mean nothing to you?”
Hoseok’s leg was shaking now, falling and dropping under your palm restlessly. You tried to smooth your hands over his leg to soothe him, but it only seemed to agitate him further.
He scoffed again, not even giving you a chance to defend yourself against his accusations. “You’ve never called me ‘destroyable.’ What, do I not get that right? Do I need to put red eyeshadow around my eyes and paint a black stripe over my nose for you to think me worthy of being the father to your kids?”
You winced. You didn’t think something as harmless as a fictional crush would upset your darling boyfriend so bad, but now you could see how you’d been out of line. I mean, maybe you wouldn’t like it if Hoseok had spoken about some other person, fictional or not, like that in front of you.
You crawled over to him on the couch, straddling his thighs despite how they shook even with your weight pressing down on them. He hadn’t stopped his periodic scoffs, his eyes locked on a point to the side as he seemed to be caught within his internal dialogue. He seemed to only be making himself madder with each second.
“Baby,” you called him, placing your hands on his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I was out of line.”
Hoseok just shook his head, still not meeting your eyes.
“I was being stupid,” you continued. “Choso is pretty—”
He scoffed once again, causing you to wince. Wrong way to go about the apology, yet again. Goodness, why did you suck at apologizing?
“—But! I love you, not him. If anyone is cute, it’s you. If anyone is hot, it’s you. If there is anyone who I find loveable, it’s you. If there’s anyone that I want to destroy, it’s you. So don’t be mad, baby, he’s nobody.”
You did feel a little weird about how you had to make it clear that Choso wasn’t stealing you from your boyfriend, but you hated to see Hoseok so upset.
And it seemed like Hoseok appreciated the reassurance, because he was finally looking at you.
He watched you for a second, as you continued to massage his shoulders while sat in his lap. Hoseok could see Choso over your shoulder on the tv, and it gave him some sort of kick to know that despite him being on screen, you had your back turned to Choso. Your full attention on him, only him.
The worry on your face made contentment bubble in his chest, this is exactly how he liked you: fawning over him.
“Yeah, baby?” He asked, pulling you into him by the hips until he had his face pressed into your neck, placing small kisses on your pulse. “You like me more than him?”
You felt heat rise to your cheek as his hands slipped under your shirt, rubbing one hand on the small of your back as the other gripped at your waist, guiding you to grind against him.
“Yeah…” you managed to get out between soft gasps as he began to move you harder and faster against his hard-on.
He bit into your neck, rubbing his tongue over the teeth marks he left behind possessively. “You don’t sound all that convincing, baby.”
“I, um, I—” you gulped, overwhelmed by how quickly the situation had changed. You could feel him getting harder and harder under you. “I mean it, I only see you that way.”
Hoseok pulled away from the marks he’d sucked and bit into you. Looking up at you with a hooded gaze. “How you gonna prove it to me?”
You didn’t know what to say. Isn’t it proof enough with the way you were panting on his lap with his bulge pressing into you?
“Would you do anything to prove it to me?”
You nodded frantically at the olive branch he had extended towards you. He was giving you an out, and you would be a fool to miss it.
“Yeah, baby? You’d do anything?”
“Yes,” you purred, head falling onto his shoulder as he pulled your shirt off of you. “—do anything for you,” you said between gasps.
“Good,” he said, pressing his lips to yours, reaching down to unbuckled his belt. “Then make me a dad.”
Namjoon (ft. Nanami from jjk):
Nanami Kento was the living embodiment of a gentleman. The guy you’d bring home to your parents. The guy you’d imagine living the rest of your life with. The guy to buy you a house in the suburbs with a white picket fence. The guy who’d listen to your rants about work drama, or friend drama, or family drama, any drama really.
He was perfect.
And he reminded you entirely of your boyfriend, Namjoon. The man you could always rely on, the only one who you’d brought home to your parents, the man who forwarded you real estate listings every weekend as he’d sweet talk you with the plans he had for your future together.
He was perfect.
And you needed to see Namjoon in a Nanami cosplay.
“Please, baby, pleaseeeee.” You gave him the best puppy dog eyes that you possibly could. “Please, please, please, please! I’ll do anything for you if you do this for me!” You had your hands pressed together as you begged in front of him.
He had just gotten out of the shower after a hard day of dance practice, and with just a towel covering his bottom half, he was bombarded with you and the outfit spread out on the bed.
“Please, please, please! If you do this for me, I’ll even put that lingerie set that you got me as a gag gift, just please, try it on.” You grabbed his hand, pulling him from the ensuite door, closer to the bed. He had to hold onto his towel with the other hand to prevent it from falling from how hard you were pulling him. You’d, in the time it took him to shower, spread out an off-white suit, a blue dress shirt, a set of brown suspenders, and a yellow tie with brown animal-esque spots out for him.
“Love, I do not want to get into a suit right now. I just showered.” His hair was dripping onto the clothes as he looked down at them.
“Baby! Please! It won’t be for long, I swear! I’ll get you out of it as quickly as I get you into it, promise!”
Namjoon raised an eyebrow at your words, a smug smile shining down at you. “Oh~ I see how it is. Me in this outfit, you in that skimpy lingerie—you seem to have a very precise idea in mind of how you want this to go, hmm?”
You couldn’t help the embarrassment from washing over you. You punched his shoulder lightly with a whine, before wrapping your arms around his muscular bicep, pulling yourself into his side. You pressed your cheek against his cool, damp skin as a way to hide your shame. You could feel him chuckling at just how quickly he’d seen through you.
“I wasn’t thinking of only that… I also wanted to take some pics of you in the cosplay ‘cause I thought you’d look cool in it…”
“Fucking liar,” he laughed more heartedly at your piss poor attempt of saving yourself from further humiliation.
“I swear!” you defended yourself, looking up to see his dimples smiling down at you, eyes filled with love. Your heart stopped for a second looking at the handsome man. Did you need to see him in a Nanami cosplay to have some fun? Cause right now, looking at his sparkling eyes and wide smile, you didn’t think you’d be able to give him the chance to put on the outfit before you jumped at him.
He raised a questioning eyebrow at your sudden stillness. “Not gonna beg me to indulge in your fantasies anymore?”
You shook your head before pressing your cheek back into his bicep, only for him to pull him into his chest instead. He was looking down at you with that look again. The look that reminded you of how this was the only mad you’d ever consider marrying.
“I think,” he said, swinging you around his arms a bit teasingly as he continued to look down at you with his wet hair, and glossy skin, “that I could put on this outfit despite how tired I am if you stay true to your promise of that lingerie. Think you can do it?”
You thanked God everyday for blessing you with a man who indulged you as much as Namjoon did.
“A-huh,” you replied, breathless.
“Okay, then get to it.” He gave his head a shake, causing the water from his hair to rain down onto you, making you giggle, the tension easing. “You get as long as it takes me to put on this cosplay to figure out that set of straps that they called lingerie before I come to get you myself, okay?”
Jimin (ft. Alhaitham from genshin):
“Turn it off.”
“No.”
“Turn it off.”
“No.”
“Turn it off, please?”
“No, thanks.”
“Oh, come on!” He threw his arms up before throwing himself face first onto the bed. He whined into the duvet convulsing around before rolling onto his back when you didn’t come over to him to soothe him.
“You hate me,” he said, looking at the ceiling.
“Nope.”
“You do, I know you do.”
“Nope, I do not.”
“You do, otherwise you wouldn’t be playing that stupid, partner-stealing man’s story quest.”
“Nope, it just means I like the character.”
“It means you hate me.” He shuffled up to sit beside you at the headrest of the bed. Letting his head fall onto your shoulder as he watched Alhaitham’s inexpressive face on the phone screen. Stupid, stupid man.
“Just admit it, you hate me. We might as well break up since you like this guy more than me.”
“Literally when did I say that?” you sighed, trying your best to pay attention to the plot of the quest as Jimin continued interrupting you.
“Just now.”
“When?”
“When you just said it.”
“I actually didn’t say anything, Jimin.”
“You said it in your mind and I could tell.”
“Jimin.” You turned to look at him. He was still glaring at Alhaitham. “You’re always doing too much.”
“Just admit you want to break up.” He weaseled his way from your shoulder into your lap, his head right under where you held your phone, looking up at you with fake teary eyes.
“Baby, it’s a video game.”
“It’s a declaration that you hate me and that you want to break up.”
“Jimin, if you keep saying that, I might actually think this is your way of breaking up with me.” You went back to tapping at your phone and trying your best to recount what you were meant to do next.
“I would never!” Jimin defended, burying his face into your stomach.
You relented to his whining, bringing one hand down to run through the hair on the back of his head.
He was picking at the side stitches of your shirt absentmindedly though he was still buried face first into your stomach.
You felt him mumble something into your stomach. “Hmm?”
He looked up at you, repeating what he’d said, “I’m gonna delete your account if you don’t pay attention to me now.”
“Jimin!” You turned off your phone, trying to push him away from you only for him to hold onto you tighter, resuming his position against your stomach. “I’ve spent years on that, you can’t just delete it!”
He’d followed through on these sorts of threats before, so you knew he was not just joking when he said this. “I don’t care, I’ll delete it if it gets between you and me.”
He’d deleted contacts of friends, peers, and coworkers from your phone before, but you never thought his jealousy would extend to video game personas.
“Jimin,” you stressed. “He’s just a bunch of pixels on a screen.”
“And those unfeeling pixels are stealing your attention from me.” He looked up at you with a pout that would be cute if he wasn’t being completely disagreeable once again.
“I literally spent the whole week with you, didn’t open genshin once, why can’t I just play for a few hours now? Besides, aren’t you supposed to be at work right now anyway?”
“Can’t go when my spouse is threatening to leave me.” He was kicking his feet now, clearly content with how his threats had worked. Your phone was off now and you were looking at him, speaking with him.
“Goodness, Jimin. I really don’t know what to do with you.”
“You could kiss me for a start.”
“Not after how much you’ve annoyed me today.”
“So you are breaking up with me? For a stupid fictional scholar? A scribe?”
“You know an awful lot about the man you despise so much, why is that?”
“He’s trying to steal you away from me. Successfully stealing you away from me. God forbid I did some research on the man.”
“Just for that attitude, I’m not gonna give you any kisses.”
“Okay,” he straightened out in front of you, sitting between your legs. “Then I’ll give you kisses.”
He pressed a kiss to your cheek with a goofy smile. Then your forehead. Then your other cheek. Then your nose. With each kiss, another bit of your anger subsided.
“Now you kiss me.” He puffed out his cheek, bringing it in front of your face.
“You’re lucky you’re cute.” You grabbed his cheeks, and turned him to face you before giving him the proper kiss he’d been craving all afternoon.
He instantly melted into you, attempting to deepen the kiss, only for you to pull away from him.
“You only get more if you promise not to delete my account.”
He huffed. “Fineeee. I promise… for now.”
You smiled, shaking your head. “I guess that’s good enough… for now.”
Taehyung (ft. Howl Pendragon from Howl’s Moving Castle):
“Do you prefer blond Howl or black-haired Howl?” You were lying down on the couch with Taehyung lying on top of you, his head resting on your chest as Howl’s Moving Castle playing. You had stopped rubbing his back when you asked him the question, though your eyes remained on Howl turning into green slime over his dyed orange hair.
Taehyung just grunted, half asleep. His arm reached behind him, forcing your arm to move up and down his back again before letting go when you’d resumed your previous ministrations.
“What do you think?” you asked him again.
He was practically asleep, maybe it wasn’t the best time to be asking him about the movie.
Just when you thought he had fallen asleep he replied, “Orange-haired.”
You laughed. “Be serious for a second.”
“I am.” His arms tightened around your back, pressing harder into you.
“Come on, you’re not being serious. Blond or black?”
With his voice heavy with sleep he said, “Black.”
You hummed at his answer. “Yeah, black hair is nice on him. But I liked him blond better.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
“His actual hair colour is black. It suits him better. It’s his true self.”
You pondered. “I guess so, but I just am a sucker for his blond look. Makes him feel… I don’t know. I don’t really have an explanation, I just like it.”
Taehyung was quiet again, you turned to check if he was asleep now but instead he was looking up at you with a scowl. “Is this your way of telling me you want me to go blond again?”
You brought a hand up to cover your smile, knowing it’d only cause him to be more adamant. “No, Tae. I was just talking. People always seem to discuss which Howl version they like more. Just wanted to know what you thought.”
“Well, I think I should go blond.”
“Literally why?”
“Cause you’re thinking of some other blond man. Want you to only think of me when you think of blond.”
There he goes again. “God, Tae. Forget I said anything.”
“No no, go on about how you hate my black hair and want to see me fry my hair to be blond again.” He was now propped up over you, using his hands to keep him hovering over you. All his sleep whisked away due to the arising fight.
“I wasn’t trying to imply anything, Tae. I love you how you are, I love your black hair.”
“Doesn’t seem like it.”
You were getting angry. Over the past few weeks he was getting more and more accusatory. Accusing you of not loving him. Of wanting to change him. Of having ‘wandering eyes.”
You were tired.
You didn’t even want to defend yourself at this point.
“Come on, say it.”
You closed your eyes, biting at your cheek as you tried to control your frustration. The last thing you want to do is give into his taunts and turn this into a full-on verbal fight.
You opened your eyes, bringing your hands to the nape of his neck, trying to pull him back into your chest. “Baby, let’s just watch the movie.”
Tae allowed you to play with his hair as he considered whether to drop the topic. With the way you were caressing him, he really wanted to, but the nagging voice in the back of his head urged him to continue.
You watched him analyze your face for a minute or two. And you did the same for him, counting the beauty marks scattered across his beautiful face. His black hair falling into his eyes as he held himself above you. It was hard to believe that this angelic man was the one who would make day-to-day life so difficult at times.
“Can we?” you asked. You brushed his hair back from his eyes, holding his bangs back for a second before letting them fall back to their place.
His eyes flitted between yours, debating. Then he gave in, falling into your arms once again. “Fine. But I choose the next movie, and I’m gonna make sure there are no pretty blonds in it.”
Jungkook (ft. Gojo Satoru from jjk):
“Nah, I’d win!” Jungkook yelled, running away from you, ducking from the pillows you’d throw after him.
“Stop it!” You picked up the fallen pillow before resuming your chase.
“Nah, I’d win! And then—” he traced a line across his neck with a wide smile, before throwing his head to the side, tongue sticking out.
“JUNGKOOK! Stop it!” You threw the pillow at him again, but Jungkook easily dodged it, running into the kitchen.
He giggled loudly as you chased him around the kitchen island, stopping when you stopped to catch your breath but then giving you another taunt to make you chase after him again.
“What happened to your big strong boyfriend, huh? Couldn’t keep up with Sukuna now could he?” He asked with a wide toothy smile.
“Jungkook!” You called the name through your snarling teeth.
“What did you say again?” He put on the most atrocious imitation of your voice humanly possible and said, “He’s Gojo Satoru! He’s the strongest sorcerer alive! He’ll beat Sukuna easy!”
“Jungkook, I’m gonna kill you!”
“Oh, like Sukuna killed your little sassy boyfriend?”
You threw the pillow at him again, only for it to hit the Gojo figurine you had placed on your side table. You both watched it tumble onto the ground.
It was still in one piece, but seeing it on the ground made your anger flare up even further.
“Jungkook,” you sneered, turning to look at his frightened face.
He had his hands up in defeat. “I didn’t hit it, you did.”
“Jungkook,” you bit out the word, stalking towards him.
“Hey, baby, it’s fine! Look, it’s fine.” He picked up the figurine, and to be fair, it was fine. But your anger didn’t care about that now. Your anime/manga boyfriend was dead, and your actual boyfriend was being a dick about how upset you were over it.
You had picked up the pillow again, walking towards him slowly, and as you pulled your arm back to hurl it at him again with a scream, he sped off for your bedroom.
“Y/n! I’m sorry!” He didn’t seem all that sorry considering he was back to giggling again like a child as you ran after him. He jumped around couches and tables before slamming the door closed before you could follow him into the bedroom.
“Open the door!” You slapped your hand at the door a couple of times, jiggled the doorknob only to find it locked. “Jungkook, let me in!”
“Nope!” He popped the p sound, giggling behind the door. “You gonna kill your real boyfriend just cause the inferior, fictional one died?”
He was honestly very happy that Gojo had died. He was tired of not being the only golden man in your eyes anymore. Jungkook was the one who was good at everything that he did, not that dumbass anime man. And he had proved it, didn’t he. Inadvertently. After all, Gojo was dead, so he wasn’t perfect now.
Jungkook was full of glee.
“Jungkook, if you don’t come out right now, I’m gonna rip your collectible posters.”
He just giggled again. He could imagine your angry frown perfectly. How you probably wanted to destroy all his anime memorabilia as revenge for how he made fun of Gojo’s death. But he knew you were all bark and no bite.
“No, I’m not opening it.”
“Open it.”
“Hmmm,” he pretended to think out loud. Then: “nope!”
“Jungkook, you’re gonna have to come out eventually, and when you do, I’m gonna be waiting right here for you.”
Jungkook laughed, but when three hours had passed and you remained in front of the door, periodically knocking and asking to be let in, he didn’t find it as funny anymore. Well, it was still a little funny, but also it was a bit scary how your anger wasn’t subsiding.
Jungkook listened to the doorknob rattle from the bed, but didn’t bother opening his eyes. It was locked, you couldn’t get in.
So then could someone explain why the door was swinging open and you were suddenly set on top of his supine position. Your eyes red with both anger and sadness, your scowl set deep.
“Hey, Y/n,” he said sweetly.
“Hi, Jungkook. Wanna repeat what you said earlier?” Your hands were pressed against his pecs, face leaning in closer to him with each second.
“I don’t think I should,” he said with an eased smile. His arms were crossed behind his head, as if he didn’t have his angry spouse sitting on top of him at the moment.
“Not gonna gloat that Gojo’s dead?”
He laughed, jostling you around with each breath. “Don’t need to. You already know,” he said with a smirk.
You took your pillow from beside his head and smacked him upside the head with it. The soft downy fluff only made Jungkook erupt into giggles once again, his hands coming up to try (and failing) to prevent subsequent hits. He only laughed louder and louder, until he had wrapped his hands around your torso and tugged you into him.
You continued to struggle against him. “Let me go!”
“Nope!” He pressed kisses all over your face between giggles. Laughing at your half-hearted slaps at his triceps and forearms. “Can’t let you go when I’m so happy to have my partner all to myself again. Fuck that Gojo guy.”
You stopped struggling, exhausted from chasing him around and making a lockpick to get into the bedroom. “You’re so mean,” you whined. “Remember you used to like him too. You said he reminded you of yourself.”
He pressed a kiss to your head. “Not since he made me second place with my own spouse.” He turned you to look at him, giving you a smile before kissing you sweetly.
You returned the kiss before breaking it. You pressed your temple against his pecs, snuggling up into his arms. “So fucking extra.”
As you can probably tell, I'm still salty about some things lol.
#bts x reader#jin x reader#yoongi x reader#hoseok x reader#namjoon x reader#jimin x reader#taehyung x reader#jungkook x reader#yandere jin x reader#yandere yoongi x reader#yandere hoseok x reader#yandere namjoon x reader#yandere jimin x reader#yandere taehyung x reader#yandere jungkook x reader#bts scenarios#bts drabbles#series: love amour aur pyaar#ev's writing
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I apologize to all my mutuals and discord servers and discord friends for not talking to anyone for months now, and not making cc and just not being as active as i used to
Im completely burned out on socializing as its been extremely stressful irl work is stressful and home like is extremely stressful and people stomp on my boundaries left nd right and keep talking to me no matter how many times i ak them not to
My parents dont care and keep forcing me to listen to them even if i have a spliting headache unfortunately as i live with them i cant exactly leave the room when i please as that will make them hurl more abuse towards me Which defeats the point, and im not kidding but sometimes i'd be sitting on the train and people start talking to me one lady kept pulling my headphones it was so fucking stressful
Everyone is utterly miserable here (rightfully so its very hard to even live or breath cause everything is so corrupted and expensive) but weirdly lately they will not hesitate to vent on literally anyone infront of them
Yesterday i was in a taxi and the driver made a pun about my home street's name and i laughed because it was funny and like i like the small pleasantries between people its harmless but i kid you not the next words out of his mouth were him complaining about everything under the sun and he got so heated that he was banging the steering wheel left and right instead of idk guiding it normally absolutely terrifying and i did not need him to dump his problems on me like that and i kid you not every fucking interaction i have is like that i was at the grocery store looking at coffee and some really old lady was like "prices are insane huh?" I didnt reply and focused on the coffee The next thing i know shes holding onto my arm tightly and telling me about how miserable thing make her it started with prices and ended with her dead husband its all like that if you even glance at people while passing by they start talking and it always leads to an angey vent.
I understand the frustration i am too frustrated by this life but idk why is this the norm now
And why me ? The most introverted person in the world i barley even have social battery for myself for my own things and now everyone has turned to consuming everyone elses social battery for thier own good its exhausting
I know i have to learn to say no and be assertive but As i said i already am a super introverted person (and this is not an exsagration i once only left the house for about 5 times total in 2 years i jut dont engage with the world much as it exhausts me)
But untill i get successful at pushing back against people and also the bigger problem my parents im gonna barely have any energy to talk to people online or in discord im sorry i can only do so much at once 😞
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i can see us dying — choso x reader
— it absolutely terrifies you. the complexity and countlessness of the emotions his existance makes you feel. he terrifies you, disgusts you, and he probably hates you. that should be it, but for some reason it isnt.
wc : 2626 | ao3 [tags & notes]
It’s awfully cold in the cramped little storage shack. Your eyes have not yet adjusted to the darkness of the room, but you remember the words, the orders you’d been told. Absolutely no flashlights, absolutely no fighting and /absolutely/ no taking more than what you came for.
The shack is filled with weapons of all shapes and sizes, training dummies and ropes, shelves upon shelves packed with cursed objects. Eventually you find the small glass containers.
Ten of them, lined up in a neat little row.
”One, two and three. No more and no less.”
You squint as you lean closer, checking for any labelling of the objects. You don’t want to touch anything you don’t need to, even though you’re wearing gloves. Getting on the bad side of the Jujutsu society higher ups would mean the end of your life.
Finally you spot it, tiny engraved kanji on the metal bases of the containers. You grab one, two and three, carefully placing them in the bag you’d been supplied with. Padded and small, pockets custom fit to the little cylinders, made to look like any normal purse.
As soon as the bag snaps shut you hurry out, hoping to god no one has noticed the unconcious attendants outside the building. You make your way through the campus, moving carefully through the shadows. The suit you’d put on is just a bit too big and untailored to really fool anyone looking closely enough, but if you really need an excuse, it should work. You hope it works.
The mask covering your face is suffocating and the tie around your neck is nearly choking you. For as long as you’ve done this, you don’t know if you’ll ever get used to it. The espionage is one thing, but the fear of getting caught is an entirely other thing. A thing that shakes you to your core, a thing you only do when there is no way you’d live if you didn’t.
When you finally exit the gates you carefully look back and take a few steps down the stairs, just enough to be out of sight. As soon as you are, you speed into a sprint, moving quickly through the woods, down to the road where you’d parked your battered old motorcycle.
The trip is not particularly far, but the wind and anxiety whistling in your ears makes it feel like hours. Your eyes flicker between the empty streets and the road you drive on.
You stop outside a dilapidated alleyway, cramped between a rundown love hotel and a shabby old bar. The alleyway is filled with old boxes and trash bags, and you do your best to manouver between them towards the stairs leading down to your meeting spot. Quickly pressing the code into the tiny keypad on the door, you move forwards just slightly as the door pops open.
As you step into the room, ready to dump the bag and get your money before leaving, you instead stop in your tracks, eyes widening at the sight of the bodies behind the monk.
You swallow down your questions and your nausea.
Get the money and get out.
”Here,” you force out as you place the bag down on the table. The monk hums, smiling at you with closed eyes.
”All three are in there I presume?”
”Yes.”
Three. Three cursed objects. Three bodies slumped against the wall in front of you. Your brain makes the connection, entirely against your will. The nausea you swallowed down grows, bubbling in your gut.
You’re broken from your discomforting haze by the sound of a wad of cash being put down next to the bag.
”Sorry to do this the analouge way, but you know how it is,” the monk says with a snide smile. You bite your tounge.
”Yep.”
The words are tense. You reach down to take your money, but the second you wrap your fingers around the stack a hand rests upon yours and a shiver runs down your spine.
”Thank you very much for doing business with us.”
You stare at him for just a second before your eyes start jumping between the bodies behind him, his hand on top of yours, the bag on the table.
You can’t say no problem and you definetly can’t say my pleasure.
”You’re welcome.”
——————
You spot him in the grocery store one day. You almost can’t process it. You’re sure you look insane, the way your eyes widen and your knees crumble down. The way your hand slaps over your mouth and you nearly begin to cry.
You feel disgusted. You are disgusted. With that awful monk, with yourself. Not with him, not really. It’s not his fault. He isn’t here anymore after all. Replaced by some monster wearing his skin. It’s your fault.
The thing wearing that innocent mans body is disgusting and it’s all your fault. You get up, shaky and dryheaving, and stumble out of the store. You pass him and he only throws a questioning glance your way. You glare at him and you think you see some form of realization spread across his face as you leave.
——————
The two of you bump in to oneanother one evening. The midnight streets of Tokyo are packed with people, but when you feel a shoulder bump against yours, your eyes snap to the perpetrator, only to widen in astonishment. His eyes only narrow when they meet yours.
He knows who you are this time, and that fact terrifies you. Your steps speed up, you elbow your way through the crowds, muttered apologies leaving your lips. He can’t catch you. You can’t let him catch you.
You don’t even know if he’s following you, yet you still move quickly through the crowds, pulling up your hood and putting on your mask. You don’t want to see him, and you don’t want him to see you.
——————
He walks up to you in the street one night, pulling you into an alleyway. You instantly rip your arm out of his grasp and he turns around to face you, crowding you against the wall, intimidating you. Or at least trying to. You’re too disgusted to be scared anymore.
”It’s all your fucking fault.” His voice is raspy and hurt. You clench your jaw.
”I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about man.” The rain beats down around the two of you. You shrink down into your jacket.
”It’s your fault my brothers are dead. You ruined our lives. They didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask for this.”
You let out a shaky breath as you step closer to him. You don’t know his name. You don’t know if he even has a name. You don’t think you want to know it, even if he has one.
He used to have one, that’s all you know.
”Newsflash man, I didn’t ask for it either. Do you think I wanted to take that job? Do you think I want a connection to those people? Everyone has to be selfish sometimes. If you think I knew it would end up like this you’re dead wrong.”
Your finger presses against his chest and his face is inches from yours. You hear his heartbeat and feel his breath. It unnerves you down to your core.
”Don’t go around blaming people when you could’ve got up and left if you wanted. My life would’ve been ruined if I didn’t take that job. Judge me all you want but do not act as if I’m the only one to blame.”
——————
You hate that you keep seeing him. Alone on the streets, in stores and cafes with the rest of that offputting group. You always hope that it’s the guilt and shame that pulls your eyes towards him, but you know that isn’t the only reason.
Maybe if the circumstances were different. If you had a normal job and he hadn’t been possessed by a cursed object you’d stolen. If you were just a normal girl and he was just a normal boy. If you hadn’t been the cause for what took his normal life away.
You don’t like how you feel when you see him. You try to pretend the hatred and disgust is just directed outwards, at him, but you know you’re lying to yourself. It’s not his fault, not at all really. He’s not the one who walked in and asked to join the pretend group of villians and he’s not the one who stole cursed objects from a heavily guarded storage room.
——————
You can’t sleep. It haunts you. He haunts you. You see him in your dreams. You wouldn’t really call them dreams, but you’re not sure how else to describe them. Vivid hallucinations that feel so real that you don’t even realize they’re fake. You can always tell when you’re dreaming, usually.
You see his body, slumped against the wall. You see the monk, forcing his mouth open and pushing the cursed object down his throat, like helping a cat swallow medicine. His body begins to twitch, cracking and snapping in unnatural ways. You feel nauseous. You try to scream, try to cry, but nothing comes out.
Even in your silence, the monk turns to you with a disgusted sneer on his face. He says something, but you can’t hear him. Tears build in your eyes, burning and stinging.
Memories that have never existed begin to infiltrate the visions. A weird alternate reality, that never could’ve been true in this universe. Summery school days. A girl and a boy. Your skirt fluttering in the wind and him carrying both of your bags, even though you’d insisted he didn’t need to. He comes to your club performance, and you smile at him while you sing. You’re good he mouths. Thank you you mouth back when your part is over.
You feel like the whiplash nearly kills you. The white static nausea of the first scenario compared to the radio love song warmth of the second one.
As much as you resent it, a love song like that is one thing you’ve longed for longer than you can remember.
——————
Some days, an overwhelming feeling that you don’t belong takes over your entire being. Not in a lonely way, like when you’re left out by your peers, or not in on the joke. In a way that makes you feel like something is fundamentally wrong with you, a way that makes you feel that you’re not made for this world.
This world isn’t made for you, your father would’ve said. He isn’t here anymore, and your only empty comfort is the broken casette tape of his voice that you’ve buried deep into your brain.
Another little voice, buried even deeper, one that you fight to repress every time it comes back, speaks up as well.
What if he feels the same way?
——————
You get a job offer. The notice is short term, and so is the job, but the amount of money offered is big, and in your account as soon as you accept. It’s not like you had any actual halloween plans anyways.
A mere hour or two into the job and you begin to regret it. You don’t like working with other people and you don’t like getting more than you bargained for. You’re not good at communicating with people, you’re just good at following orders. Unfortunately for you, a veil that you can’t seem to leave is cutting off contact from the very people giving you orders.
You sit, cramped up in a bathroom stall with your legs pulled up to your chest, without knowing what or who you’re waiting for.
Eventually you move. Most of the screams have died down and all the violent slams and shakes seem far away enough that you should be safe.
After a few minutes of walking around, trying to think of where to go or who to contact, you stop.
You’re not surprised that he’s here. You are surprised at the fact that he’s sitting curled up in a tiny alcove in the station wall. He doesn’t seem to notice your approach. You step closer, ever so carefully, and poke at his leg with your shoe.
”Hey.”
He doesn’t react.
You bump your shoe against his chest this time, just like you had with your finger that time that feels like years ago by now. ”Hello.”
He startles, and you back away quickly. His gaze snaps up to yours.
”You.”
”Me.”
Silence festers in the tunnels beneath the earth.
”I need to go,” he says. ”I need to help.”
You blink at him. ”Okay.”
”Come with,” he continues. You almost laugh.
”Are you joking?” He frowns.
”No.”
Silence festers between tense bodies, poised for fight or flight.
”I’m leaving,” you say.
He stares at you for a while and you begin to falter under his heavy gaze.
”You always run.”
You scoff. ”Does it look like I have any obligation to stay here? I was hired for recon, not to fight. I’m getting all my savings and getting out of Japan, so yeah, I guess I am running. Do you, out of everyone, have a problem with that?”
He frowns at your words, and you can’t, for the love of everything that is holy, think of any reason why he would be upset that you’re leaving.
He doesn’t deign to give you a reply, instead beginning to move, upwards and outwards. You stand still for just a moment, before making off in the opposite direction.
——————
You leave Japan. Your savings get you a flight to Taipei and a passable little hotel room. Most of your days consist of nothing more than going to your part-time waitress job followed by hours and hours of watching the news and scrolling through japanese sorcerer forums for any updates you can find.
On Christmas Eve you’re called in to work as one of the few employees without any particular holiday plans. You don’t mind, not really. It’ll mostly be to-go orders and loners like you coming in for a quick meal and some beer.
As you’re clearing a few tables, you feel your phone vibrate in your back pocket. You throw a glance to your boss. His eyes meet yours, and you look towards to break room door before looking back at him, the question going unspoken. He gives you a short nod.
You pull out your phone as soon as you sit down on the dingy old couch. The notification is from one of the largest sorcerer forums out there.
A livestream?
The title of the stream claims that you are watching the battle between Gojo Satoru and Ryoumen Sukuna, but it looks more like a cheap action movie filled with quick blurs and massive explosions.
You grimace slightly and shove your phone into your pocket.
Not worth watching.
When you come back home from your shift, you pull up the livestream again. The title has changed, however. It now claims that Gojo Satoru is dead, and the fight is currently between Ryoumen Sukuna and the stragglers of Japans Jujutsu Society.
There are fewer explosions this time, but the blurs of movement remain the same speed, maybe even quicker. Your eyes flick across the screen to take in as many details as possible.
Fallen buildings, large indents in the ground from Domains and powerful clashes. Something on the ground blurs, and suddenly theres a camera switch.
You see his corpse.
You never even got to learn his name.
You think back to that one dream you had with him. A warm summer, just like a love song.
You never even got to learn his name.
Life goes on.
Maybe in the next one, we can have our love song.
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anyway if you're having some uncomfy feelings about posting unsourced art/photos in the past because of that post i made about how to identify stolen images, maybe hunting through my blog for any possible whisper of hypocrisy is not the most productive place to direct that energy. i'm not here to shame anyone, just to provide information on how to make this website a little friendlier to artists by discouraging sourceless uploads. lack of engagement on unsourced posts will cause most uploaders to change their behavior for the better.
#i'm pretty sure this is the reason i got that anon lol#very funny to me that most of this website is so 'art theft bad' when it comes to ai image generation#but posting entire artworks with no credit or reference to the artist whatsoever is totally fine and normal#and it's not like it's the end of the world - there are bigger issues out there to worry about for sure#this is just a very small thing that absolutely anyone can do to make the culture here just a little better#this will be my final commentary on the matter#further anons will be ignored go bother someone else
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I have successfully made a brush that I adore idk how much I'll use it but I'm definitely gonna make a few drawings with it at least just to mess around
#rat rambles#I was just messing around with some settings and found out how to make some brushes less soft and more pixely#which has made this one brush I drew those last two drawings with from a eh brush to an absolute delight to mw#oc posting#anyone whos ever used a brush in someones art being too pixely as a critique can suck my ass pixely brushes my beloved#I honestly wish I could find a way to recreate super pixely like mspaint style brushes in procreate thatd be fun#Ive tried but I cant find a way to make it work with larger sizes#which is a problem for me the number one thick lineart fan dkfndjdg#I remember having similar problems when I was younger with medibang on my phone#I think I ended up just using the 8bit thing super small to make super little drawings that Id then make bigger#which was too much work I dont wanna do that fnfjdjsjd#but thats actually how I first designes the first of the human kids in eternal gales fun fact#sier was the very first one I designed and then on the same day I designed tali and the snake triplets too#all of them but snek have at this point have had major design overhuals fkdmdkdbd#anyways I need to go to bed now gn gamers
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“GOOD! NOW PUNCH HIS FACE!”
— when your baby and gojo, geto, nanami, toji, and sukuna get protective over you (f!reader)
a/n: I am alive!! as an apology here is a multi-character post 🙏 btw in toji's part, you're megumi's mom
GOJO SATORU:
two peas in a pod, twins, copies: these are all things people have called your husband and son.
honestly, they’re not wrong. your son has his father’s looks—satoru swears he has your nose and ears but anyway—and he carries the same protectiveness and love he holds for you, if not amplified.
you can’t count on one hand the amount of times the house has been turned upside down because of their fights for a cuddle session with you.
of course, you have always tried suggesting them simply sharing you, but these problem children would rather eat raw zucchini than ever share the cuddle time.
so while your son is barely six, you can still count on him to team up with satoru against anyone who wrongs you in anyway like what’s happening right now for example.
you’re out with your lovely family to buy some groceries, and since they both were whining about getting some sweets, you allowed them to go and snatch a couple from the next aisle.
on the other hand, you stayed to look for another type of detergent to clean the floor—especially since satoru got this new type of paint for s/n and it’s quite an endeavor to remove it with a regular detergent.
however, being in the cleaning supplies section never guaranteed the lack of filthy men who can’t take no for an answer. this one man approaches you, smug grin on his face as he leans on the wall, “what’s a pretty lady like you doing alone?”
“buying groceries like a normal person; now please leave me alone.”
he quickly frowns, “don’t be so stingy doll,” his hand extends towards your arm, “I can show you a good time; I promise—“
the man is swiftly smacked with an egg on his face, and he is left with the egg dripping down his face, “what’s your wrong with your kid, man?!” he yells at the person behind you.
he then grumbles, “ruined a potential good night.”
“my kid was absolutely right in what he did,” you hear satoru’s voice. you then feel a hand on your shoulder, and you’re pulled into a chest you’re all too familiar with, “’toru—“
your husband shoots a small smile your way, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, before looking at his son, “that last throw was very good, s/n! throw another one but just below his stomach."
a cheshire cat-like grin is plastered on your husband’s face as s/n prepares to launch another egg at the man.
there is a very evident scowl on your son’s face as he yells, “don’t you ever bother mama again, you stinky bum crumb!”
the man gasps and tries to make a run for it, but your son wouldn’t be the son of gojo satoru if he doesn’t manage to land the hit exactly where he wants.
the man quickly crumbles to the ground screaming and alerting literally everyone in the store.
so satoru picks both you and s/n and makes a run for it.
you hold tightly onto him, “wait, ‘toru, the groceries!”
“we can always order! saving my princess and son is more important!”
your son grumbles, “but I want to hit the rude man!”
“me too, champ, but—“ satoru sweat-drops and glances behind him, “I doubt the angry security guards would like that!”
GETO SUGURU:
your twin girls are one of the sassiest to exist.
in a way, they take after their father who is also pretty sassy but very low-key.
the sass of all three combined is terrible to be the victim of. luckily for you, they don’t dare direct their triple ray towards you, especially—in any argument—at least one will try to win you over.
if it’s suguru trying to stay on your good side, then he is hugging you from behind, pressing feather-like kisses on your shoulder and whispering about how sweet you are. if it’s the girls, then they cling to your legs and keep yelling about how much they love you.
so it is safe to say that you have a small squad to protect you from any potential “danger”.
“oh my, dear shouldn’t you focus on refining yourself a bit more?” you hear a woman say beside you.
you turn towards her, offended, “excuse me?”
“I mean,” her eyes scan you, disapprovingly, “you look average at best, and with that you won’t be able to find yourself a husband, let alone have children.”
you’re still processing her audacity as she continues, “but then again, it’s probably for the better that you don’t have children; you can barely take care of yourself.”
“can I help you?” your husband says as he approaches the woman.
she smiles condescendingly before chuckling, “I was simply telling this lady to take care of herself more; she hardly looks presentable.”
geto’s smiles tenses up as he is about to give the woman a calm peace of his mind, but his daughters beat him to it.
your older twin stands in front of the woman, scanning her with pure disgust in her eyes.
she grimaces and voices out her thoughts, “you are like a crunchy lizard.”
the woman gasps, “how dare you—!”
you cut off the woman, curious about your daughter’s conclusion, “why a crunchy lizard, sweetheart?”
your daughter looks at you with a small frown, shaking her head, “a crunchy lizard is an ugly sad lizard.”
a snort escapes your husband, and you’re barely able to contain your smile.
your other daughter follows up, looking at her twin sister, “the lady looks like that one green thingy we saw yesterday,” she taps her little foot, trying to remember and beams at the woman, “shrek! you look like shrek!”
then they both glare at her, frowning, “you’re a monkey!”
your husband doesn’t let it go as he deals the final—subtle—blow, “come on now girls; we shouldn’t bully the lady with the mcdonald’s like hairline anymore.”
it seems like the woman can’t take it anymore as she starts sobbing and running to the hills.
a moment of silence is shared across the four of you, before you carry both of your girls in your arms and start tickling them, “I don’t know whether to be proud of you or scold you, little evil girls!”
they squeal, trying to escape your hold and calling for their father.
geto chuckles and wraps his arms around the three of you, “let them have it for tonight, y/n,” he ruffles their hair, “they were brave and defended their mom, after all.”
“yeah, papa is right!”
“yes mama, please!”
you pout then smirk at geto, “well I don’t mind, and since papa is also very proud of you girls, he will buy any toy that you guys want today!”
the color drains from your husband’s face, and he watches motionlessly as his girls latch onto him, screaming about the toys they want.
you giggle at his expression and blow him a kiss. he reluctantly blows you one back, while the girls excitedly pull him towards the toy store.
NANAMI KENTO:
you and your husband were blessed with the sweetest girl as your daughter, and she was just recently joined by another sweet girl.
you can never forget the happiness on your daughter’s face when she saw her baby sister.
it also seems that no matter how many times you give birth, your husband can’t help but get emotional when he holds your baby. his hands are forever delicate as he cradles her to his chest.
you remember what he said during the birth of your first daughter.
“I feel like a piece of heaven has been plucked and placed in my arms.”
the way he always goes soft for the three of you is honestly adorable.
today, you were going on an outing with your—now 6 months old—baby and your older daughter who is almost six.
your husband never brags about his muscular form, but he never misses a chance to carry the baby or the baby supplies.
you have offered to at least carry the bag, but he always refuses, stating that ‘you already carried the baby for nine entire months in your belly; this is the least I can do.’
so yeah, sometimes you wish to smooch your husband till forever, but that’s not the point.
you’re walking hand in hand with your daughter as she sings her favorite song. you hear someone click their tongue, so you look to the side and lock eyes with an old lady. she takes the opportunity and approaches you.
“you should be ashamed of yourself!” she yells pointing at you, “your husband shouldn’t be carrying the baby supplies nor the baby itself for the matter,” she scowls, “that’s your job!”
“with all due respect ma’am, but that isn’t her job, and taking care of the baby should be something we are both responsible for.”
“yeah!” your daughter huffs, “and don’t take out your sad life on my mama!”
your eyes widen as you stare at your daughter.
on the other side, your husband is just as speechless. your daughter pays no one any mind as she continues, “mama works hard every day! you wouldn’t know that! you immature nugget!”
nanami frowns lightly, “d/n, that’s not nice—“
and for the cherry on top, your baby daughter throws the bottle cap she was playing with at the old lady, and frowns at her.
she starts babbling some nonsense that you're pretty sure are curse words in baby language.
having had enough, the old lady huffs, “the utter disrespect,” and starts walking away.
the rest of the spectators’ eyes follow her till she is out of sight. finally then, people start minding their own business, and you and your little family are left to the aftermath.
you giggle, “that was funny.”
“really?!” your daughter beams.
nanami cuts her off, “no,” he then looks at you with a small frown, a sigh escaping his lips, “y/n don’t encourage them—“
your baby daughter screams happily when she sees her sister smile. she starts kicking her feet with the biggest smile on her own face.
your older daughter starts laughing with her and tries to make her little sister laugh more—she was successful.
meanwhile, you chuckle, leaning on your husband’s shoulder, “admit it, kento; it was kind of funny.”
his resolve softens at the sound of laughter from all three of his girls, “okay, maybe a little, but—“
“yay!!”
ladies: 1
kento: 0
FUSHIGURO TOJI:
your husband and son are so alike, save for the part that your husband is a bit more shameless, and your son is more on the shy side.
however, they both have the same bluntness and the tendency to give anyone who they don’t like attitude.
for example, today, you were walking in the park with the both of them to unwind a bit.
not to mention that megumi wanted to walk his dogs which was a plus, since you would be able to watch your dear son play around with them.
it was all going great until you saw an old ‘friend’ who came running at the sight of you. he was someone who has always been way too touchy and in your personal bubble.
you have tried talking to him about it, but you’re confident that he does it to somehow force you into reciprocating the intimacy.
even if you’re a married woman with a freaking kid.
he giddily clasps your hand, “y/n, ‘been a long time!”
“h-hey,” you smile awkwardly.
he laughs, “I was passing by when I saw your figure, and I couldn’t help but come and say hi.”
you nod, “that’s great, but I am busy, so maybe later?—“
“you’ve gotten even prettier!” he exclaims, “I wish you would finally take me out on a—“
“can’t you see that she is uncomfortable?” your son retorts, “also, you should step back; you shouldn’t touch someone like this without asking them.”
megumi squeezes himself between the both you and glares at the man.
the guy was about to reply to your son, but toji pushes him back with ease, pulling you beside him and hand resting on your waist almost by instinct, “kid is right,” he tilts his head a bit, “ever been taught manners or do I have to do the teaching for you?”
the guy is taken back; offended, he snaps “you can’t speak to me like that!”
“and you can’t hold my mom’s hands like that, but here we are,” your son cleverly sasses him.
on the other hand, your—shameless—husband pulls you into one scandalous kiss and smirks at the guy when he pulls back, “and you can’t hit on a married woman, by the way.”
you hear your son gag in disgust at his dad’s actions, but you’re too busy burying your face in your husband’s chest, hoping that the guy disappears before toji makes even more of a bigger scene.
you also hope that the ground would swallow you, but that’s the alternative option.
the guy clutches his fist, before walking away, spewing insults at the sky—since he is too scared to cuss out your buff husband. once the man is out of sight, toji ruffles megumi’s hair, chuckling, “good job, kid.”
your shy bean’s cheeks redden slightly as he looks away, “…thanks.”
you’re still thinking about what just happened when you slap your husband’s chest, “toji, literally why?” you grumble, patting megumi who started holding onto your leg the moment you hugged toji.
“why not,” your husband shrugs with a small smile, taking pride in your flustered form.
“dad, I want ice cream.”
“no, you just want me to let go your mom, so you can hog her for yourself,” toji grumbles, staring down at megumi.
unfaltering, megumi looks up at him ,“dad, I want ice cream.”
“god damn it, listen here you—“
“divine dogs.”
RYOMEN SUKUNA:
there is no denying that both your son and your husband care for you very much, and they both—very aggressively—compete for your attention.
I am talking he literally throws the kid across the room kind of aggressive, and your son, in turn, throws whatever he has at him.
it’s eventful, but you would be lying if you said that it wasn’t one of the reasons why you will get grey hair earlier than everyone else.
so their very aggressive nature is also shown in their protectiveness over you.
a person doesn’t need to insult or even dare flirt with you for your devil duo to make their life a living hell; your husband and son don’t tolerate someone speaking to you if it causes you to ignore both of them.
for example, this one new servant was clueless to where the broom is, and unluckily for him, he saw you sitting with your husband and son in the gardens. he humbly approached you, “excuse me, m’lady.”
you turn to look at him with a smile, “yes?”
he clears throat, a bit flustered by the attention, “I—I wanted to ask where the—“
“up your ass, you disgusting fiend,” your son sneers followed by his father’s ever-permanent scowl.
“who gave you the permission to come and speak to her so casually?” sukuna presses, and the servant quickly falls to his knees.
“m-my apologies, my lord! I did not mean to disturb you!”
sukuna crosses his arms, “well, you did, and you also disturbed your queen and prince,” his eyes narrow at the servant, “what do you have to say for yourself?”
meanwhile, you’re watching all of that, mouth agape and trying to articulate anything to save the poor guy. you finally find your voice, “sukuna, it’s okay; he didn’t mean—“
your son hugs you tightly and glares at the servant, “to think he would so brazenly speak to you like you’re old friends is terrible, mother.”
you can almost see your son’s cursed energy flaring, and you can spot the small smirk on your husband’s face as he watches his son.
before it escalates any further and you find yet another dead corpse in your palace, you pick up your son, kissing his cheek which makes him flustered and causing him to bury his face in your neck.
you look at the servant, “you’re dismissed, and you can ask the head maid about anything you need, okay?”
“y-yes, m’lady!” he, however, stays glued to the ground, “may I have the permission to lift my head?”
sukuna grunts, “sure.”
“thank you, m’lord,” the servant says, before scurrying towards the gate, having secured his freedom after his little mistake.
or at least, that’s what he thought.
your husband slices his legs off with a flick of a finger, and your son, who has inherited his father’s technique, slices the head off.
and so the body falls to the ground, and the other servants hurriedly start cleaning up the mess.
you frown at your husband, “sukuna! he apologized!”
he rolls his eyes, and pulls you by the waist, “do I look like I care? he shouldn’t have interrupted our time together.”
“aww, you’re jealous!”
“no, I am not—“
“hands off, old man!”
taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @sonder-paradise @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana @maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1 @sad-darksoul @ko-fi-heart @pumpkindudeishere @suyaaachin
copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#jjk x you#geto x reader#geto suguru x reader#geto x you#nanami x reader#nanami x you#nanami kento x reader#toji x reader#toji x you#toji x y/n#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#geto x y/n#nanami x y/n
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.
#the facilitator of my Shabbat hosting lab (it’s a fellowship program) is wonderful and I know that she wants to be as inclusive as possible#and she does! we gave her feedback with various people having different opinions about the weekly homework writings and she quickly made it#optional. she made the requirements for what we had to host flexible from the very beginning#because the curriculum she was given says that we have to host a Shabbat dinner (specifically that and nothing else Shabbat related) and#have at least 8 guests#she made it so that the goal was 8 but she wasn’t going to punish anyone for less. I’m aiming for 3 and she’s completely fine with that#it also doesn’t have to be a Shabbat dinner. it can just be something Shabbat related/related to what we’ve discussed during Shabbat#and when I talked to her about my conflicts (because one of the few things she can’t change are the dates of our two weekends to host)#she brought up the idea of designating a different day for shabbat— lots of people who have to work Fridays and Saturdays (especially rabbis#and Jewish leaders) do it#she also gave me the option to just postpone it which was so kind#I think part of that was because I had started crying almost immediately after starting to explain my situation#(not necessarily because that was the thing putting so much stress on me that made me cry but just because between everything piling up and#being in a ton of pain (which always makes me more likely to end up crying over small things) and being able to voice a problem I was having#to a person I trusted just ended up with my brain going ‘that’s enough. we need to open the floodgates and it’s safe to do so’ so I cried)#but part of it was that was just how she did things. she prioritizes our experience and learning over us meeting an arbitrary quota and#she’s just so kind#it also helps to know what there do exist people who are willing to accommodate me in a non-classroom setting#based on the weather forecast Friday and Saturday are going to absolutely suck for me pain wise#and I mentioned the weather and she immediately made the connection between the weather forecast and worse pain for me which#I wasn’t expecting to be honest. but it was nice to know that she understood and thought about that stuff#i just want to not be in pain#all my joints hurt so much
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"You're not my Husband..." // Doppel!Francis x Reader 🐄🩸
@cassanderasblog --> Thanks for the request <3
-!! CW: Dubcon (in a sense), – Brief mention of murder, – Very slight body horror
-!! Very brief size kink
Spouse!Reader x doppelgänger!Francis
▷ —--------------------
▷ —--------------------
▷ —-------------------- (s-s-s-sma-smash)
“You’re not Francis.” The words are sharp, punctuated, your glare burning straight through the mimic of a man in your living room
“No, I’m not,” The creature grins- if you could even call it that–, mouth a waning black chasm, no teeth, no tongue, nothing. How this thing managed to bypass the doormen you had no clue,-- how could someone fuck up this bad?
“Francis’s” eyes darken, – literally. The whites turn into an inky black, eery small spheres of light peeking out where his pupils should be.
Oh dear.
The wired phone you keep on the kitchen counter goes off behind you. Glancing once more at your “husband” you slowly back track, hand inching to the phone.
He just watches as you hesitantly pick up the ringing phone, making a click when it’s pulled from its cover.
“Attention, this is the D.D.D, – we detected an unknown life force near your residency. Please, do not panic. Keep your door locked and do not approach anyone of suspicion. If you see anything weird, do not investigate. Dispatchers are coming to your location to liquidate the threat” – Well, it was a little late for that.
“... cancel dispatch” your lips form the words slowly. There’s silence on the other end,
“Excuse me?... you want dispatch–”
“Discharged. Threat neutralized.”
Even “Francis” is stunned, – staring at you, unblinking, – flabbergasted.
“‘Got it under control, thanks,” You hang up before they can answer, placing the phone back in its place.
“Francis” just stares.
-
“You’re a doppelgänger , right?”
“Perhaps.” His eyes narrow
“Alrighty then, prove it.”
Unzips.
—-------------
“Francis” stares, wide eyed, gaze fixed upon the water stains on your ceiling. Even with all the lights off, he can still see your snoozing frame tangled in the sheets beside him, (perks of being non-human).
Your chest rose and fell with each breath, the movement captivating whatever posed as your husband.
Your body looked serene, the faint light emitted from his glowing pupils illuminating your chest.
“Ahah-!” You were practically in hysterics, tears flowing down your rosy cheeks, nails raking into the headboard of your bed. “Francis” could only lie there, enamored by your blissful expression as unfamiliar sparks of pure pleasure coiled inside, heating everything up until it was practically molten.
“Mmph-!” you choke off your moans, slapping a hand to your mouth lest your neighbors hear you impaling yourself on your husband’s doppelgänger 's cock.
You swivel your hips, his eyes widening; no one’s ever ridden him like you are, – no one’s ridden him period. You were surprised the doppelgänger even had a dick, – let alone it being almost twice the size of the actual Francis’. You had stuffed yourself full of him, bouncing mercilessly. Your husband had neglected you horribly in the past,-- never coming home, always giving you the cold shoulder, even when you had gotten down and begged for him to look at you, just once –your thirst for intimate touch was at an all time high.
“Francis” grunted, surprised at how wonderful this new sensation was. The delicious heat in his stomach bubbled over, bottoming out through his cock. Your eyes widened at the warm sensation of him, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You had to bend down, biting deeply into his shoulder to stifle the screams lodged in your throat.
You inhaled deeply, desperately trying to catch your breath as “Francis” could only glance over, the slight pain in his shoulder from your teeth barely bothering him, (because, well, one, you were the only one who could breathe and two, he wasn’t human). Your head turns, sloppily kissing him on the cheek, to his absolute shock.
“Francis” brings his right arm to his left shoulder, fingers gingerly grazing the marks left by your teeth. It still tingled.
He looks over at your slumbering frame again, now tentatively reaching the same arm in your direction, hesitantly touching your peaceful face. You do not stir, so he continues downward, fingers carefully glazing over your nose, your mouth, your jaw, and finally stopping at your neck, your pulse vibrating through his hand. Humans were so interesting, he thought, – and you had just grabbed his interest by the throat with a viselike grip.
He gently tucks a stray piece of hair plastered to your sweat slicked forehead behind your ear, grinning in that creepily endearing way of his. How the original Francis lucked out, – he almost felt bad about killing and devouring his corpse, – almost. How could he have fumbled so badly, – you were an absolute treasure, and “Francis” was now determined to keep you all to himself.
Such a greedy little creature.
… You’re never going to be able to get rid of him after this.
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(requests for more Francis, -- doppelgänger or no, -- are open and very much appreciated !)
I love him a normal amount I swear 🙏🙏🙏
#francis mosses x reader#francis mosses#francis mosses x you#francis mosses thats not my neighbor#that's not my neighbor#milkman#milkman x reader#milkman that's not my neighbor#i love him#doppelganger#doppelganger francis mosses#thats not my neighbour milkman#milkman doppelganger#smut#tnmn milkman#tnmn smut
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For your Theo fluff - He hates touch, like absolutely does not get touched by anyone ever. His friends know it. Everyone knows - but then you come along and it’s all you do. Hugs, hand holding, legs in lap, all the touchy things. And you have no idea that Theo was ever NOT a touchy person because he never said anything. And then Pansy or Draco tell you how he used to hate being touched, and you’re like ???? Because he never said anything. And then you stop. Like no more hugs, no fiddling with his hands during class, nothing. And then he’s like ???? And then you tell him why and he’s like … I only wanna be touched by you. And it’s just so fluffy and a little hint of sunshine!reader.
You are the best Theo fluff writer😭🔥❤️
theodore nott x sunshine!reader
a/n: sorry i’ve been so busy i’m catching up on requests now!!
theodore very instinctively backed away from blaise's incoming hands. the boy was simply joking around with his friend, but as he lifted his hands to pat his back, super bro-dude of him, Theodore backed away.
"sorry mate." blaise noticed his flinch and laughed. theodore shook his head and gave a small smile to his friend.
"you act like everyone but you has the black plague or something, theo." pansy laughed at the interaction.
"what?" theodore asked.
"you back away from touch so quick." the girl replied.
"yeah, you never let anyone touch you." Draco added.
"i don't think i've ever seen you hug som-"
"theo!" blaise was interrupted by you walking towards the group of slytherins with an unmissable smile on your face. theodore's face visibly lit up as he stood up to greet you. you instantly walked up to him and reached out for a hug which he gladly reciprocated. blaise, draco, and pansy looked at eachother in shock. they knew theodore liked you but for him to display pda so naturally was strange. the two of you had only been dating for a week and before that you seemed to be close already, but the group still never saw this side of the relationship.
"hello to you too, y/n." blaise said, holding back a laugh with a smile. you turned to the group and smiled at them.
"hi guys." despite the two breaking your hug, your arm did not leave his body. "can i sit?" she asked.
"of course, i don't think theo will let you leave anyway." pansy replied making everyone not so discreetly laugh. theodore scowled at them and led you to sit down next to him. you smiled as he placed his arm around you and chatted about your day to him.
the scene was incredible to theodore's slytherin friends. you couldn't keep your hands off him as you sat together and he did not mind at all. you held on to his hands, placed a hand on his thigh, even touched his hair as you spoke to him. all he did was stare and listen to you as you talked, occasionally giving commentary and melting in your touch.
"i'll go get it for you." theodore said as he stood up, responding to something you mentioned you forgot in his room.
"where are you off to?" draco asked.
"getting something for y/n, i'll be back." he replied as he headed to his dorm.
"that boy must really like you." pansy turned to you as soon as he was out of sight. you smiles.
"well i hope so."
“it’s so funny, we were just talking about how much he hates being touched before you came over.” blaise said. you furrowed your eyebrows at his comment.
“he does?” you questioned. they all nodded. you never would have thought that about theodore. you were naturally very touchy with people you cared about and didn’t think theodore had a problem with it because he never said anything. as you thought about it, you did realize that he rarely was as physically affectionate with you in the same way so maybe he didn’t like it?
as the week went on, this thought never left your head. you suddenly became self aware of all your actions around theodore. your hugs were shorter instead of unnecessarily being prolonged, you held his hand instead of clinging onto his arm, and you rarely played with his hair.
theodore did not understand what was going on. he knew something was different as soon as he noticed you hesitating to hug him. he was never one to initiate physical affection so he wasn’t sure how to go about this. his break point was one afternoon in the empty school courtyard when the two of you sat in the grass talking and enjoying each other’s company. you were next to him but did not even attempt to touch him the entire time.
theodore looked down at the hand you were leaning on that was in between the two of you. you were ranting about your divination exam but all he could think of was how much he missed your touch. he looked back up at you and nodded to your words. he moved his hand without looking to touch yours, intending to hold on to it, but you immediately moved it away.
“why are you doing that?” he interrupted you. you stared at him in silence.
“doing what?” you asked.
“you’re not touching me. are you upset with me or something?” he asked. you looked at him in disbelief.
“no. i’m not i just,” you looked down not really knowing what to say.
“just what?” he asked again.
“i thought you didn’t like being touched.” you said. he tilted his head at your words. “it’s your friends, they told me you don’t like being touched by people soon figured i would hold back on it because i don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
“ragazza dolce (sweet girl),” he placed a hand on your cheek making you look at him. “i only like being touched by you. i miss it so much.” he says.
“really?” you asked. he nodded. you smiled and kissed him, placing your hand on his arm.
“now please give me a hug. yours are the best.” he smiled at you.
“if you insist.” you gave him a hug as he requested, smiling and closing your eyes as you lingered in the feeling.
#theo nott x reader#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#theo nott#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott fluff#theodore nott x you#theo nott fluff#theo nott x y/n
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Steve arriving at a hotel for a work conference for his dad’s company. He hates it there, he’s miserable, he’s constantly trying to figure out what he actually wants to do with his life.
It’s late when he gets there and the hotel is fully booked because of a concert happening.
He gets his key card after waiting for 30 minutes to check in.
He opens the hotel room door to find it is already occupied by a guy with a whole lot of tattoos all over his very naked and still dripping from a shower body.
Obviously he panics a bit and wonders how the hell this could’ve happened and Eddie panics a little because of safety (turns out he’s the singer of the band performing the following night!)
They try to call the front desk but the line is busy and Steve already dreads having to go back and wait in the line downstairs.
Eddie offers to let him just stay and they’ll fix it in the morning.
“Plenty of room in a king for both of us.”
Which may be true, but Steve is an octopus when he shares a bed and he knows he will end up in Eddie’s space. Should he warn him? Probably. Does he? Absolutely not.
Steve rushes through a shower and hops into bed, making small talk with Eddie about his life in a band, ignores questions about what he does as much as he can because he doesn’t feel like explaining he’s just a puppet for his dad’s never ending business career.
He falls asleep listening to Eddie’s soft, deep tone.
And of course when he wakes up, he’s got his legs and arms wrapped around Eddie anywhere he can reach. His drool is drying on Eddie’s chest and he’s coming to terms with the fact that his dick was definitely pressed against Eddie’s thigh.
Eddie’s kind enough not to say anything about it, just squeezes Steve’s arm and continues petting his hair.
It’s nice, too nice.
Steve has to get up. He’s got things to do today and if he’s late, his dad will hear about it and berate him for hours.
Shit, even if he’s on time he’ll probably find some other reason to berate him for hours.
“What’s wrong?” Eddie asked.
“Hm? Oh. Just don’t really wanna get up.”
“Then don’t. I don’t have anywhere to be until soundcheck after lunch.”
And now Steve has no choice but to explain his job and why he’s here, how his dad is relying on him to network and find potential mergers. How he hates putting on the Harrington face to please everyone.
It’s easy to admit it to Eddie, especially with Eddie’s arms wrapped around him, holding him like he could actually protect him from anything his father tries to say to hurt him.
“You don’t like your job.”
It’s not a question.
“Does anyone really like their job?”
“I do.”
“Well, you’re a rockstar. Of course you do. But I can’t be a rockstar.”
“Maybe not. But what is your rockstar?”
Steve had never been asked that, not even by guidance counselors in high school. They all knew he’d work for his father. He got a business degree for his father. He owned more suits than sweatpants for his father.
“I…don’t know.”
“Maybe you could try figuring it out.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“No, it’s not. But you could still try.”
So Steve sent a message to his dad’s partner, let him know he was fighting food poisoning from the in-flight meal and couldn’t make it to the conference today. He watched as Eddie threw on some clothes, mussed up his hair instead of brushed it, and quickly shoved his things into his bag.
“I should get out of your hair, try to get the room thing fixed.”
Eddie looked at him, looked at the alarm clock by the bed, down at Steve’s bag.
“How many days are you packed for?”
“Uh, four, technically. Trip was supposed to be three, but I always have an extra in case there’s flight delays or-“
“Come with me.”
“To…soundcheck?”
“On tour.”
Steve was an idiot, his father made sure he knew it as often as possible. But he couldn’t just go on tour with a stranger.
Could he?
What was he really doing here?
He hated his job, hated his dad, hated not having a clear path in front of him.
And this certainly wasn’t a clear path; He barely knew this guy, and hadn’t even heard his band. But it was a trail, the start of a path that could lead him somewhere he’d actually like to be.
Maybe he could take this chance.
Robin would tell him to do it, if she weren’t in Antarctica studying penguins for three months, only able to call once a week to check in.
What would she say if she called him and he was backstage at a heavy metal concert?
She’d probably say he’s lost his damn mind, but she’d be glad he did.
“Well, I am a rockstar. I could afford to have you around.”
“I’m not sure I could really afford to when my dad fires me,” Steve sighed, reality hitting him a little too quickly.
“I’m not really willing to be, like, your kept boy or anything,” Steve felt himself flush.
“I’m not really willing to have a kept boy,” Eddie smirked, joining him on the bed again, legs crossed in front of him. “But I’d definitely be happy to have someone who can help our tour manager out. You’d be working, though the jobs kind of boring.”
“More boring than sitting in an office five days a week and meeting with old white dudes who haven’t done anything but work their lives away for 40+ years?”
“Nah, way better than that. Sometimes you’ll have to deal with Gareth’s moods, but I promise to make it worth your while.”
“How’s that?”
“I’ll leave that up to you,” Eddie very obviously checked him, eyes trailing over Steve’s bare chest. “I’m open to negotiating.”
“And if I want a kiss?”
“Then a kiss you’ll have.”
“And if I want you to fuck me?”
“Then you’ll have to sign some paperwork,” Eddie laughed. “But that can be arranged too.”
So Steve left with Eddie, four days of clothes in his bag, no idea what he’d even tell his dad or anyone else, and no clue exactly what his new job would entail.
All he knew was Eddie seemed to be made just for him, chaos and hyperactivity included, and Steve wasn’t gonna give that up now. Even if it made no sense, even if it was ridiculous to gain a new job and new rockstar boyfriend in less than 24 hours, even if his next call with Robin was a combination of her yelling about his impulsive behaviors and congratulations for finally doing something for him.
Even if he was more of a VIP groupie for the band than an employee of the tour manager.
Steve finally found something he wanted.
If he sent his dad’s calls to voicemail, that was because he was too busy walking his new path.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#headcanon#drabble#modern au#rockstar eddie munson#meet cute#unrealistic timeline of falling in love#and I’m not sorry for it
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the curious lifespan of migrating monarchs - jjk
THE CURIOUS LIFESPAN OF MIGRATING MONARCHS
(& other aurelian affairs)
pairing: streamer!jk x international student!female oc (s2l)
warnings: strangers to lovers, clubbing, foul language, alcohol, vaping lol, jungkook is kinda famous, the oc is oblivious, the oc is also a foreign student who has very recently arrived in Korea!! (pls note - while i've been in korean uni dorms, i've never been in yonsei dorms specifically so don't shout at me if it isn't supeeeerr accurate), jaykay is speaking in eng for like 90% of this!!, i've also never watched a gaming streamer and had to do so for research lmao so there's a lot of guesswork going awwwn <3, the oc has tattoos, they bond over this, cute nicknames (tokki and nabi <3), one bed trope?? kinda, jaykay lives w/ yoongi and tae (they are streamers too (and dj?? (tae is a bit unhinged))), jungkook wears calvins!, a singular appearance of yoongi in his boxers!!, tipsy hookup, fingering, protected sex (woo!), desk sex, oral (m receiving), girliepop swallows <3, brief mentions of jungkook's starry eyes, lots of kisses, bunny ears, (1) mention of cross-fit
wordcount: 13011
note from holly: this was a commission done for the lovely Michelle over on my kofi page!! i don't open commissions often, but when I do I'm very lucky that the requests are so much fun. this actually ended up being way longer than it was supposed to be lol and is also available on wattpad!! also fun facts for you - I imagine the boys apartment (and jks room!) to be same as jk + jimins place in BD, just a little bigger lmao
minors dni // cross posted to wattpad
CLUB SUNDOWN
WAUSAN-RO, HONGDAE
SATURDAY 02:24
Time ceases to exist after the sun goes down in Seoul. It could be two, or it could be five. The only thing that really clues you in on the actual time is the DJ schedule that lights up behind the decks: 02:00-03:00, Blu-Tae.
It's some guy you've never heard of. Looks no older than you. Probably a student, just like the rest of the crowd.
His hair is as blue as his namesake, which does make you smile, and his choices aren't bad either (even if somewhat questionable). You've never heard a jazz remix of Darude's Sandstorm before, and you doubt you ever will again.
Club Sundown is just as rogue as the rest of the city after the sun goes down. Hidden in the basement—like all the best places in Seoul are—the small room is packed to the absolute brim.
Who cares for views and sunsets offered by rooftop bars when you could lose yourself in the debauchery of an eternal midnight, instead?
Drinks are spilt on strangers, and dances have lost the grandeur of old-fashioned waltzes. It's not like you could dance properly, even if you wanted to. There's just simply no space.
Like Alice, you're down the rabbit hole—and oh, how you prefer it to being in the real world. In the shadows, you can be anyone you like.
If you were sober, you'd know this is also the case for daily life. You're in a new country with no ties to your former self. Who you are is who you choose to be.
But the shadows aren't all that dark. The red lights of the club bleed into the cracks, painting everyone in the same subtle hue of danger.
They shine a little light on the identifiers of you; the thin black lines of your patchwork tattoos. Trailing up your arm, they're memories of your past selves, and an indicator of who you hope to become.
"Down this," you say to your dormmate, Rae, handing back over the drink you've just ordered from the bar. "Cloakroom, then dance."
Still carrying your winter coats, you'd wanted to check the place out before committing to it. Entry is free, but the cloakroom is the same price as a drink. It would only be worth putting your coats away if you knew you wanted to stay—and given the fact the DJ was playing O-Zone's Dragostea Din Tei as you entered, you know it's a no-brainer. While his stage name might make you roll your eyes a little, Blu-Tae certainly does cater to your tastes. When you're drunk, and music vibrates through you, it's empyrean. No place you'd rather be.
"Oh, Jesus," Rae gags as she sips the drink you've just handed her. Despite her disgust, she's laughing. Head to toe in black, dark hair loose around her shoulders, she's been your ride-or-die since you arrived in Seoul. Both international students in the same dorm, there's no one you'd rather get up to no good with. "Vodka?!"
You beam at her like you're from the heavens above, wrongfully relegated to the depths of sin. Pretend like you love vodka. It's totally not like you panicked when you saw the menu was all in Korean.
Vodka-coke is a universally understood delicacy—the easiest thing for you to order without making a tit of yourself or butchering the pronunciation. When the bartender ignored your botched attempt at ordering in Korean and answered in fluent English, you'd wanted to melt into the floor. So embarrassing.
You're here, like most foreign students, for a language course. Semester is yet to start, and as much as you've studied and practised hard, it's always different when putting it into practice.
"I'm sorry," you laugh. "It's fine—you can order next time!"
But Rae has the exact same predicament as you. If anything, your language skills are better than hers, so you really have no hope. It's vodka-cokes for the evening, or maybe highballs. Once your tipsy brain manages to compute hangul cocktail names, you'll be golden, but that won't be for another few weeks, yet.
You'll look back at this time of your life fondly, realising how simple it all was, even if it feels incredibly overwhelming right now.
Funnily enough, hope is exactly what you have: for the semester ahead, for this new life you're forging, for the opportunities that may come your way.
In fact, by the time you're on your third vodka coke, you've managed to convince yourself you actually like it. You also can't taste it, thanks to the bartender freepouring a 60-40 ratio of vodka to coke in the first drink. Your tastebuds were wiped out pretty much instantly.
Coats in the cloakroom, you're glad to be wearing thin layers. The room is stuffy; your skin sweaty. While meeting new friends had been the goal, you keep to yourself. Dance like nobody is watching. Hold Rae's hands to stay close and ward off weirdos. Quickly realise that clubs back home are slightly different. Pay it no mind. Ignore the intrusions of hands on waists, because men, disappointingly, are no different.
Or at least most of them aren't.
But most of them don't look like the man in the corner booth, laughing with his friends.
Though he is tall, he's eclipsed by his demeanour. Shoulders broad, he's in a dark T-shirt and pair of jeans. Nothing special. Nothing that warrants such a perplexed stare from you - but he's familiar. You can't place him, but he's got the kind of face you swear you've seen before.
Rae doesn't notice the change in your poise, nor how you're desperately trying to work out where you know him from. Perhaps you've seen him around your university? It's only been a couple of weeks, but people are steadily moving in. Maybe he works at the convenience store you constantly find yourself in? Or mans the front desk of the noraebang you and Rae visit pretty much every other evening?
Impossible, you think. If you'd seen him before, you wouldn't have forgotten him, or the way he constantly toys with his lip rings. Plural. There are signs up around the place stating bar rules. NO SMOKING is rule number three. You've seen his friends pass him over a vape a handful of times. Anyone else, and you'd think it was cringe. Embarrassing.
But in the midst of his laughter settling, and a fresh toke being inhaled, his eyes flicker towards yours.
Perhaps it's just because you're drunk, but you don't avert your gaze. Show no shame. The smile on his lips sinks into a smirk as he exhales. An acknowledgement. A 'hello, trouble'.
Again, any other man, you'd find the vape smoke repugnant. Nasty. Now? Watching the way he flicks his tongue against his lip rings?
You wanna know how it tastes.
Black ink weaves an intricate outline of who he is up his arms. Where he's been. Who he's been. A map, if you will, of his soul.
Much like your own tattoos, he's got thick black lines, and little else. Simple, you assume. A man of convenience. Efficiency.
You wonder if he does everything in life with the precision to match his tattoos, and as your lips wrap around the straw of your vodka-coke, you decide you'd quite like to find out.
Interrupted by Rae pulling you deeper into the crowd, your night is spent in and out of shadows. Attempt subtlety. Try not to make your occasional glances to the corner booth noticeable, just checking if his eyes are still on you. More often than not, they aren't—but sometimes they are, and that's enough to fuel your little flirt.
It's not until the sign behind the DJ booth changes from 03:00-04:00, GLOSS into some other guy that you notice your staring contest opponent has slipped into the shadows himself. The booth is void of both him and his friends. Gone.
"GLOSS has a set at another club," Rae all but yells in your ear, and even then, you barely hear her. "All the hotties left when he did. Let's go."
"Where to?!" You laugh, empty cup in hand. Admittedly, the new guy who's stepped into the DJ booth is just not doing it for you. Blu-Tae was just the right amount of unhinged with classics, whereas GLOSS was definitely cooler, but still fun. Had the club yelling curse words over trap remixes just for the fun of it. This new guy, whose name you don't care to remember, takes himself too seriously, you think.
"It's, like, two blocks down," she yells back, tugging on your wrist to drag you to the stairwell that leads you back up to the streets of Seoul. The hustle and bustle of people trying to go in different directions in the tight place forces you apart, but you figure you'll catch up with her, or that she'll be waiting at the top.
You don't know the roads well enough yet to make it to whichever club it's at alone, and quickly realise when you nearly tumble into the side of a waiting taxi that you're far drunker than expected. Knew the bartender was freepouring, but didn't realise just how free those pours really were.
"Woah, easy trouble," a deep voice sounds from behind you as you're steadied to a more stable position.
"I'm good, I'm good!" You insist, shaking off the hands of your 'saviour'. Have no interest in being a damsel in distress, or some sober guy trying to take advantage of you.
Looking down to check your laces are tied properly, you check over your shoulder to make sure the guy isn't creepily waiting for a thank you that he can turn into an intrusive game of 21 questions—'are you open-minded?' or 'do you live alone?'—but when you glance in his direction, you regret it. Notice the tattoos immediately. Recognise the eyes. Want to die.
"Oh."
"Oh," he says back with a smile, imitating you. Suddenly, the confidence you'd had earlier when looking at him from afar dissolves into nothingness, just like the alcohol in your bloodstream. You feel rather sober, but your body would definitely disagree. "You okay?"
"Yeah, yeah," you nod, suddenly a little stuck for words, desperately trying to play things cool. "Are you okay?"
The pouting of his lips as his tongue runs along the inside of his cheek only serves to make you internally cringe. Men who look like him have no business being on streets like this. Should be in a museum. Strung up on the walls with the other masterpieces. Admired by everyone who looks his way.
In a way you don't yet realise, he is.
Though he's not in galleries, he's often burning into people's laptop screens. Is the background of a fair few thousand lock screens. Indeed, he is admired by everyone who looks his way, just not in the traditional sense.
"I'm not the one who just fell into a car," he reminds you, as if you could forget your embarrassment so quickly.
"Was just seeing if you'd catch me," you bullshit, the confidence you usually have returning tenfold. Was just a momentary blip. He's just a man, after all.
"Oh?" He chirps, decidedly curious. "So you fell for me?"
"Stumbled."
"Semantics."
His fluency, and the fact he just said 'semantics' so casually in conversation, clues you in on the fact he might be a language student, too.
Could be useful study partners for each other, you think, then mentally berate yourself for already masterminding ways to see him again.
"So, where you going?" He asks, not caring to downplay his curiosity. The bartenders were free-pouring his drinks just as severely as they poured yours. The only difference is that his were on the house—'cause you were right. He does have a recognisable face. "Should probably go with you. Make sure you don't fall into the road."
"Stumble," you insist, a little pleased with the boldness of his suggestion, but not wanting to blindly agree. "My friend," you say glancing around, only to find yourself completely alone. "She wanted to go catch the next GLOSS set. So, I guess that's where we're going."
"Just down the road," he says, knowing the schedule like the back of his hand. Bounces from club to club supporting his friends, just like they would for him. If he wanted, he could get a slot up there, too. He doesn't care for it. "I'll walk with you, if you want? My friends are heading there anyway."
It's not a bad offer.
In fact, it's probably the best offer you'll get all night.
"C'mon," he nods his head to the side, encouraging you to follow him. Checks his phone for the time. "Starts in five."
If there's one thing you've indulged in since moving to Seoul, it's how safe you always feel. Security cameras are on every corner, and you've walked home countless times without any issues, even late into the night. While the place isn't perfect, it's far safer than your home country.
Still, you're not a complete idiot.
"It's not wise to follow strange men down dark alleys," you tell him.
He holds out his hand. Waits for you to shake it. Cocks a brow when you hesitate, so introduces himself.
"Jungkook. Nice to meet you. Now, can we please hurry up? I promised I'd be there."
Narrowing your eyes, you don't shake his hand. Arms folded over your chest, there is ice to your exterior, and given how warm his eyes are, you doubt it'll last for very long. May as well keep up this hard-to-get act while you still can.
Walking on past him, you call back, "Alright then. Lead the way."
In the domed mirror meant for reversing cars at the end of a tight alley, you see him laugh. "Wrong way, idiot."
Pausing, you scrunch your face up. Don't turn to face him for at least a second or so—but when you do, you're surprised to see him walking towards you. Hooking his arm around your waist, he carries on walking in the 'wrong' direction, taking you with him.
"Was just fucking with you," he grins. Nods towards a sign by another basement entrance, listing both Blu-Tae and GLOSS.
By the door, Rae is looking around like a mother duck who's just lost some of her ducklings when crossing the road. Breathes a sigh of relief when she spots you.
"C'mon," she grins, then realises who you're with. Says nothing of it, 'cause she doesn't want to be weird, but she recognises him, too. Decides she's just had a little too much to drink. There's no way it's him. Holds out her hand for you.
Reaching out for her, you're let go from Jungkook's grip, ready to get lost in the lights once more.
HAEJANG24
WAUSAN-RO, HONGDAE
SATURDAY 05:53
Seoul is a city for the nocturnal. The restaurants and bars are open until the last men are standing. Given how much you've had to drink, you're surprised you still are.
Rae had dipped an hour or so ago. Had hit it off with Mr Blu-Tae himself. Seduced him with the suggestion that their couple name would be Blu-Rae. He'd said they should go to a DVD-bang. Would be fitting. See what Blu-rays were on file.
Naturally, you'd looked on with mild disgust and also admiration for how quickly she'd worked her magic. Everyone knows what goes down in DVD-bangs. Small private rooms, often with projector screens and the world's least comfortable futons, they're somewhere you hope to never end up—but also can't wait to hear all the details the next morning when Rae comes to your room for a debrief.
You'd been left under the surveillance of Jungkook.
"Look after her," Rae had instructed, then narrowed her eyes. "Or I'll destroy your reputation with a single twitter thread, Tokki."
It's a threat he's taken seriously. Knows how the internet works, and even though he's never done anything worthy of a cancellation, he also doesn't intend on starting now. The fact you seem to have no idea who he is during the daylight hours intrigues him. It's a rarity on streets like these.
Even when a few people asked for pictures with him on your walk to the hangover soup place, you didn't clock it as weird. Figured they were friends passing by, wanting to document their chance run-in. Just another memory of the night. The way Jungkook had greeted them was full of warmth, and kindness. Why wouldn't you assume they were mates?
You were also still incredibly drunk at the time, so didn't think to question it. Was keen for food, and Jungkook had insisted on hangover soup, and so that's where you are. Dishes nearly empty, far more of it eaten by him than you, you're laughing about nothing and everything all at once.
"Right," Jungkook declares, deciding he cannot hold in a question that's been tickling at his brain for the entire meal. "What the fuck is that?"
Coat left in the cloakroom, long forgotten about, your tattoos are on full display for him, just like his are for you. Up your arm they trail; a patchwork of teeny tiny identifiers. Latin phrases around skulls, birth flowers of the people you hold close, butterflies and stars. There's an ode to your favourite musician and your favourite Shakespeare quote, too. The fabric of you etched into your skin. There's no reinventing yourself, even half the world away from home.
You know precisely which tattoo Jungkook is asking about. You've asked yourself the same question a few times.
"Fuck off," you laugh.
While most of your tattoos are gorgeous, there's one that was done by a rogue artist on a girlie holiday a few years ago. What was supposed to be a seashell now looks like... well, nothing really. It's just a blob, thanks to the artist being absolutely terrible. The only solace you find in it is that your two best friends have an equally awful permanent reminder of that holiday on their bodies, too.
"It doesn't look how it's supposed to," you explain with a little pout. "I got royally screwed over."
He cocks a brow. You still haven't told him what it is. He isn't gonna ask you twice.
With a grumble, you feebly admit, "A shell."
And then he's laughing. Really laughing. Laughing so hard you think he might piss himself—which you'd actually prefer, because then he could be the embarrassed one, instead.
"I'm calling you Shelly from now on," he says with a broad smile. Has had his fair share of tattoo blunders, and knows you must've developed an affection towards how shitty it is. Would have gotten it covered up, otherwise. "That's incredible."
"You're calling me so such thing," you assure him, but you also can't help but laugh.
"I am," he tells you, then really solidifies it. "Shelly."
"Fuck off," you whine, doubling down. Scanning his arms, you try and pick out anything you can use against him, too. "If I'm Shelly, then you're Mike."
"Mike?!" He protests.
"Yeah," you insist, pointing towards the microphone on his forearm. "Mike."
"You are not calling me Mike. Do I look like a Mike?!"
"Do I look like a Shelly?!"
You've got a point. It's not the name he would have first associated with you - but it is cute, he thinks. Cute how mortified you seem. Cute how you can't help but smile.
After a little bit of back and forth, it's decided that neither of you look like your namesakes.
"Y'know, we kinda have matching tattoos," he says, holding out his arm for you to study. "Or at least, the placements."
And sure enough, below his elbow lives the outline of a bunny sitting on a crescent moon. Holding your own arm out next to his, below your elbow is a butterfly. Above it, is a teeny tiny moon.
Like Jungkook's moon, it's a crescent. Was supposed to symbolise new beginnings. You wonder what his means, but don't ask. Instead, you marvel at the coincidence of it all.
He presses his index finger against the butterfly on the inside of your forearm. The echoing chatter of the restaurant fades softly into nothingness as he says, "Nabi."
You nod. Even if you have spoken with him in English this entire time, it's nice to hear him speak in his mother tongue, no matter how minimal - so you reciprocate. Press your index finger against his bunny. Smile. Say, "Tokki."
It further confirms to Jungkook that you have no idea who he is. Has been a while since he's met a girl in a circumstance like this where that's the case. Likes the anonymity of it all. Is hiding his identity from you, and yet hasn't felt such vulnerability for years.
"Daltokki, right?" You continue, not wanting the silence to linger for too long. "The rabbit in the moon?"
You're not wrong, but you're also not entirely right.
"Yeah," he smiles regardless. "That's it."
JUNGKOOK'S APARTMENT
ITAEWON-DONG, YONGSAN-GU
SATURDAY 07:12
"Shhh," Jungkook quietly laughs.
His hand is over your mouth and the other is on your hip as he guides you into his apartment. With your back to his chest, you've both been giggling for the entire ride to his place.
He had insisted that he should walk you home, and was surprised by the offense you seemed to have taken by this. You then told him that he absolutely could not seduce you, and that it was very gender-role-conforming for him to think that you were incapable of getting home by yourself.
"Maybe I should be the one to make sure you get home safely," you had said with a false sense of concern, which had made him laugh quite considerably.
In all reality, you didn't mind him offering to get you home. You just hadn't tidied your room. Didn't really expect to be taking a boy back to your place, much less one that looks like him.
Together, you'd caught the early morning bus over to Itaewon instead of a taxi, 'cause you're still on a student budget and Jungkook wasn't quite ready to blow his cover just yet.
You've been teasing him—questioning his status as a potential International Super Spy—ever since he took your hand and guided you into one of the flashiest apartment complexes you've ever been in. There was security. Doormen. A passcode for the elevator—not to mention that he was heading up to the seventh floor once you were in it. Might not sound like much, but when there are only seven floors to the entire building, it makes it the penthouse by default.
"It's not a penthouse," he'd insisted. "Plus, I live with friends. Only pay a third of the rent."
But a third of his rent is more money than you'll probably see in three months of post-grad work. You're drunk, but you're not stupid. You also know that the rental market here differs significantly from your home country. Monthly rent is cheap, but the deposits are extortionate. Sure, he'll get it back when he leaves, but to have the initial money needed for a place like this? He's not a regular student, if one at all, that much is sure.
"Not sure who's home," Jungkook whispers as you both kick your shoes off in the entryway. Given the looks of the other shoes, it's clear that this is a guys-only living situation. You're proven right when he continues, "Betcha Tae's still in that damn DVD-bang, but Yoongi might be back."
"Yoongi?" You question.
"GLOSS," Jungkook says, remembering how oblivious you are to who he is. Reaching down to grab your shoes, he isn't gonna leave them by the door. Will take them to his room. Doesn't want the boys asking questions, if they are in. Knows they'll just use it as an excuse to publicly roast him whenever they're next online together.
Given that a stream is scheduled for Sunday night, he doesn't want to tempt fate.
Their current choice of wind-up, which the viewers have been eating up, is the joke that Jungkook is a virgin. He's not, but he never knows how to defend himself without sounding like a tool, so always gets a little awkward. A lot of their viewers love it. Join in on the joke. Some take it seriously. He doesn't care.
Next month, Taehyung will do something dumb, and he'll become the favourite joke for a while. Maybe Yoongi. But for now, it's Jungkook.
None of them take it to heart. They're just a group of friends who share their gaming hangouts online, and accidentally made it to the top of the ranks.
They aren't particularly good at gaming, but that's part of the charm. Crescent Collective is how they're known: Blu-Tae, GLOSS and Tokki.
After a bet went wrong, and they all lost, they ended up with moon tattoos and their respective 'symbols'. Jungkook's is a rabbit, Tae's is a blu-ray DVD disk (because he really is committed to the bit), and Yoongi's is stars to symbolise the shine of fresh gloss. Jungkook's makes the most sense. Yoongi's is pretty decent. Taehyung's is just... Well, it's very him.
Sliding open the door into the main living area, Jungkook has to cover your mouth again when you gasp at the sheer size of the place.
"I thought butterflies were supposed to be silent?" He teases. "Quiet for me, Nabi."
His place is bigger than your family home, you think. Hushing you again, he's laughing—and then he's cursing at the sight of a half-naked Yoongi by the kitchen counter.
In his boxers, with half a clementine slice hanging from his lips, he's just as shocked to see Jungkook with you. Gets over it pretty quickly.
"Don't mind me," he says, chewing down on the fruit with a smirk. Looks towards you. "Apologies for the lack of clothes."
With your shoes hooked on his fingers, Jungkook's other large hand is still over your mouth. You're not sure you can form any words as it is, but you do notice the crescent moon and stars on Yoongi's ribs.
"Not a word to Tae," is all Jungkook says. Knows that he'll be in for a world of teasing tomorrow if he gets wind of it. "I mean it."
Holding his hands up, Yoongi's still smirking, but he is backing away into a room just off the kitchen. "My lips are sealed."
Watching as he closes the door, you wonder how much truth is in his words. Jungkook knows it's absolute bullshit. Chooses not to dwell on it. Loosens his grip on you and heads towards his own room. Turns back to check you're following him, and can't help but smile when he knows that you are.
Tossing your shoes just inside the door, Jungkook is quick to pick up a pair of jeans he'd left on the floor, before chucking them over his desk chair. He tweaks his bedding. Straightens it out. Looks a little shy as he turns to face you.
"Made it home safe," he says quietly, as you close the door behind you.
You nod. Keep a little distance. Say, "It's dangerous to sleep after drinking. Make sure you build a tower of pillows in the middle of your bed so you don't roll onto your back."
Both of you are far more sober than you were earlier. There's no need to worry about anything like that.
And yet he nods, now. Says, "You're probably right. You can always stay, though. Just to check I don't die in my sleep, or whatever."
"It'd be the responsible thing to do," you nod, wondering if he can tell just how fast your heart is beating. "But I don't have any pyjamas."
Jungkook swallows. The way he looks at you now is entirely different to how he'd looked at you in the club. Back then, he'd been bold. Flirtatious.
Now, he seems vulnerable. Needy.
"I sleep in my underwear," he tells you, unsure if you'll actually be sleeping. While he likes the idea of fucking you, part of him doesn't want to. Fears it'll ruin the magic of the unknown. The way he throbs at the mere thought of it would suggest that his hopes outweigh his fears. "I don't mind, if you don't."
The clothes Jungkook's wearing are baggy. You've seen nothing of his figure.
Reaching for the nape of his neck, he tugs on the fabric of his T-shirt. Pulls it over his head and discards it in one swift movement. The sound of it crumpling on the floor is abrasive in how it makes you feel. Raw. Unrefined. You suppose it's just a natural consequence of seeing the toned muscles of his chest. How his waist defies what you thought was possible for masculine builds, and how broad his chest is. The indent of his collarbones, and the lines of his pelvis that draw your eyes downwards.
A pair of Calvins peek just above the waistband of his jeans, and a silver chain rests around his neck. Light from the city filters in, and LED lights around his impressive computer set-up paint him in a hue of violet.
"No," you manage to reply, which is a miracle, you think. "I don't mind."
And then you reciprocate. Reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head, letting the fabric fall to the floor. Seeing him swallow back his nerves, or maybe his desires, makes you feel far bolder than you should.
"It's really uncomfortable to sleep in jeans," you tell him.
He nods. Agrees. Threads the button of his trousers through its loop. Doesn't take them off yet. Waits for you to do the same. Keeps his eyes firmly locked on yours. Doesn't let his gaze wander, no matter how much he has to fight all his instincts not to fully take you in. Is still pretending like he doesn't want you in the most indecent of ways.
The room you're in right now is known worldwide.
People set it as their zoom backgrounds. It's on Pinterest. There are YouTube videos attempting to recreate the set-up. If he were to power up his computer—which, in all fairness, is only on standby—and go live, there'd be a thousand viewers within minutes. Doesn't matter what he plays, or who he's with. He doesn't give it much thought anymore. Is just life.
Sometimes, he regrets not being a faceless streamer, but he also knows that it's part of the appeal. Connection, and the fantasy that comes with this almost dystopian, parasocial idea of it.
After all, the meeting of his eyes with yours across a busy club led you to this point. Human connection in the simplest of ways, that he thinks could culminate in the most complex of ways, too.
"Okay," he says. "So take them off."
"You want me to?" You ask just to tease a little bit, and when a smile flickers onto his seemingly nervous lips, you're glad you did.
"You think we'd be here right now if I didn't?" He says with a tweak of his brows.
"You've got a point."
With that, you push your jeans down and reveal the matching set of black underwear you're in. It's nothing special. In fact, it's not really a set, but it's close enough that it'd fool anyone who didn't know.
Jungkook, in this moment, is indeed a beautiful fool.
There's a lopsided grin on his face as he lets his eyes rake down your body. Is shameless as he indulges in you. Nods, as he bites down on his bottom lip.
"It's cold," you tell him, urging him along a little bit.
"Shit," he says without much thought. "Sorry. Was just... Yeah. Shit."
It's both endearing and wholly confusing how Jungkook flips from confident to cute. A man of duality. It makes you giggle, and then you're the one biting down on your bottom lip. Are both a little bashful. A little shy.
"I'm only here to make sure you don't die in your sleep," you remind him before it goes any further.
Looking at him now, knowing you want him in the worst of ways, it's testing all of your willpower not to just cut to the chase.
Thing is, you liked his company tonight. Want it again. Want to give him a reason to seek you out once more. Want him thinking about you in clubs, and looking for you in crowded bars. Pining. Yearning. Needy.
"It's already gone seven," he tells you, walking towards his bed. Knocks his head to the side. Silently tells you to follow suit. "Will probably only get a couple hours in."
"Better than nothing. Plus, you're actually really irritating," you bullshit as you get into bed with him. Are adamant you won't fuck him, but you do let him pull you in closer.
"Oh, yeah?" He grins.
"Mhmm," you nod, pretending as if you aren't looking at his lips. "You'll be less annoying when you're asleep."
"I'm never gonna sleep again," he assures you. "Will annoy you forever."
"I know where the front door is," you say as you stroke a few of his loose, wavy hairs back behind his ears. They fall freely almost right away, but it just gives you another excuse to play with it "I can just leave. I'm only here to make sure you don't die in your sleep. Pointless if you're awake."
"So I have to be asleep for you to stay?"
"Mhmm," you hum.
He immediately loosens his grip on you and flops into an overdramatic sleeping position. Fake snores. Gets you giggling. Can't hide his smile, either. Laughs through the god-awful noises he's making.
But it is late, and you're both tired. As much as he'd like to stay awake with you, the pull of sleep is just too tempting now that you're beneath his sheets. It's not like he doesn't wanna fuck you. His semi is very much present, but neither of you mention it.
"Y'know what's sad about butterflies?" Jungkook mumbles after the laughter dies down. He carefully begins to trace the lines of your tattoo, eyes entirely focused on the tip of his finger.
You purr a response before you fully vocalise one. "Tell me."
He glances up at you only very momentarily. Looks back down. Is quiet when he says, "How quickly they die. Spend over half their lifespan growing into these beautiful creatures, and then they have, what—A week? Two? Three, tops—and then they're gone. It's like the cherry blossoms in spring. Beautiful, and then—" He clicks his fingers. "—gone."
Stroking back some loose strands of his hair, you wonder if he's thinking about you. About this chance encounter. Beautiful, then gone.
"Just means you have to appreciate them while they're still around," you say softly. "Cherish them, because you know you only have them for a moment."
His gaze lifts to meet yours. The reflection of his LED lights makes it seem like butterflies are floating around in his deep, dark eyes, too.
There are stories he could tell you of ancient folklore; about human souls taking the form of butterflies. Of justice, and peace, and spirits. Of back in time, when tigers still smoked. He could tell you of his favourite butterflies. Of the black butterflies that are as large as his hands in the summer. Of the huge display in a museum downtown that would transfix him as a child.
Instead, he gently presses his lips against the lines of your butterfly tattoo.
The rate at which your heart is beating multiplies. Like a swarm of butterflies chasing through your veins, you've no control over the way you're feeling. He's brought your artwork to life; set the souls inside of your butterfly free, only for it to be apparent that the souls belonged to the both of you, anyway.
You know that this is one of those moments; a butterfly passing on by through your lives. Here, and then gone. Beautiful, but fleeting.
There's a shyness to Jungkook now, as he rolls onto his back. A reluctance to get things wrong. He doesn't look at you, just nibbles on his bottom lip and pretends as if the empty white ceiling ahead of him is the most interesting thing he's seen all night.
It's not.
You are.
You, and those eyes that make him feel like the butterfly on your arm is tickling at his tummy. He finds himself jealous when he faces you again and begins tracing the thin lines of your butterfly once more. Wants to embed himself into you like the ink that's carved out a home in your skin.
"Sorry," he mumbles, seemingly regretful of the tender kiss he'd pressed against your arm just a short moment ago. "Don't know why I did that."
"It's okay," you reply without much thought. Like him, you're letting the way you feel dictate the words you say. Care not for playing coy. "I liked it."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Jungkook wants to stop his mouth from letting his desires escape. The issue is, he drank a little too much tonight and his lips are a little too loose. Too bad. Can't help himself from asking, "Can I do it again?"
You're just as bad.
"Yeah," you whisper. "Please."
The way his lashes splay against his cheeks as he presses another kiss to your arm is nothing short of celestial. Like that damn moon on his arm, he's got a beauty about him that's hard to capture in words. Ethereal feels too fantastical, but gorgeous feels too dense. He resides in a realm somewhere between the two. Somewhere you'd like to stay forever.
Forever, sadly, only lasts a few hours. You've brunch plans with new friends you can't bail on yet for fear of running a friendship before it's even begun.
You see yourself out. Jungkook's still asleep. Not quite 10AM, you've a dozen missed calls from Rae, and a cold can of coke waiting for you in your fridge. Funnily enough, though, you don't really feel hungover. Must have gotten it all out of your system the night before.
It's only fitting, when you think about Jungkook on the subway home, and how soberingly drunk the idea of him makes you feel.
YONSEI UNIVERSITY DORMS
DAESIN-DONG, SEODAEMUN-GU
SUNDAY 21:39
Brunch had, predictably, been a yawn-fest.
The people were perfectly nice, but you spent the entire time thinking about Jungkook; how you'd left him in a pretty slumber, the LEDs behind his computer still glowing, with not even so much as a note to say thank you.
It's not like he had any paper on his desk, and you weren't about to start rummaging around his room. You also didn't want to wake him. Part of it was because you knew you'd be saying goodbye, and the concept of that was one that you didn't like all that much.
And so your subway ride back to your dorm had been spent searching his name. He didn't take long to find.
From the club's Instagram, you found GLOSS and quickly discovered that there was far more to both him and Blu-Tae than just being DJs. Their follower counts were wild. Numbers you know you'll never see on your own account. Verification check marks accented their display names.
Who are you? You'd thought to yourself, incredibly perplexed by it all.
Jungkook was littered all over their pages, and yet it still took a while for you to click through to his account. You're not sure why, but think that perhaps the unknown was a nice place to reside within. Safer.
CR3SC3NT_T0KK1 was his username—and curiously, Tokki was also his display name. Brows furrowed, you'd almost dropped your phone when you saw his follower count. It eclipsed both of his friends.
Filled with gaming set-ups, merch drops, and general life dumps, it was pretty clear that whoever Jungkook had made himself out to be the night before was not who he was in real life.
Equal parts offended and intrigued, you were only more confused when you saw that Rae was already following him—but not following Taehyung.
"What?" she'd beamed when you'd asked her about it after you'd arrived home from brunch, a scoop of hangover ice cream being waved around in the air with her flamboyant gestures. "He's, like, one of the biggest streamers in the country—and if I want to keep Tae obsessed with me, we need as many connections as possible. Jungkook's a frog to me, baby, not a prince. Don't you worry your little cotton socks. I'm not after him."
"I wouldn't care if you were," you'd blatantly lied in response, and then you'd giggled together at how ridiculous you were both being over boys you didn't really know.
Hovering over the bright purple 'JOIN STREAM' button later that evening, part of you holds back. Think it'd be weird. Strange. That he'd somehow know it was you.
Dipping your mouse, you tick the checkbox to join as an anonymous viewer. Take a breath. Think fuck it. Watch with bated breath as the loading wheel turns—and then he's there.
Jeon Jungkook has the kind of beauty that transcends shitty quality streams. Smiling as he jokes with one of his friends through a headset with a pair of black bunny ears affixed to the top of them, you hear a voice you almost recognise. Notice the friend he's streaming with in the top corner. Realise you do know him, too.
Hair as blue as the trees are green, Tae has just as much boyish charm as Jungkook, but also an incredibly large hickey that seems to match the ones on Rae's neck.
"Nah, can we get an L in the chat for Kook," he's teasing. Sure enough, the chat begins to explode with the letter, and Jungkook looks so pretty when he protests.
"It's not an L!"
"It is!" Tae insists. "Should have seen him, guys. Was following this girl around like a lovesick puppy—"
"No, I wasn't!"
"And she didn't even give him her number. Not even her name!"
"That's not true!" Jungkook whines. He switches between Korean and English with ease, sometimes just single words, other times whole sentences. "I have a name."
"What is it?"
"Not telling you."
"Cause you don't have one!"
"No, because you'll all make my life a living hell," Jungkook laughs—and then notices a bright blue comment lighting up in the chat. His eyes widen. "Fuck."
GLOSS:
Was calling her Nabi when he got home last night
Almost shit his pants when he saw me
"Yoongi, I'm gonna shave your eyebrows off in your sleep," Jungkook growls—only for the chat to start spamming butterfly emojis. Closing his eyes, he leans back in his chair, the still paused video game long forgotten about, now. Thousands of people are in their chat, and even more are watching the stream.
"Guys, get it trending," Taehyung goads. "Tweet, I dunno, bunny and butterfly emojis."
"Don't do that!"
"Hashtag find Jungkook's butterfly."
"Do NOT do that!"
"I'm like a modern-day cupid," Taehyung beams.
"I'm shaving your eyebrows, too."
Closing the stream, you sit for a moment, mouth ajar, unable to process what on earth you've just witnessed. Part of you feels as if it must have an incredibly vivid daydream; a projection of your heart's desire.
And you know you shouldn't, but when you get home from running errands the following day, you join the stream again. Blush when you notice the chat is still teasing Jungkook.
"I'm gonna block you all," he threatens them with a grin, which only encourages them to send even more butterfly emojis.
The next day is no different, nor the day after that.
He is, though. Has been letting it all play on his mind. Doesn't have much of a filter when it comes to streaming.
"What if she didn't even like me, guys," he whines to the chat. "And sees this and is like... mortified. I think I'd punch myself in the face if she ever saw any of this."
You toy with the idea of sending a comment into the chat. Something that only he'd realise was you. Thing is, you feel bad for intruding. As if you shouldn't be prying. As if you're eavesdropping on him chatting with friends, and not on the stream he's broadcasting live around the world.
Typing out a message, you deliberate your choice.
Punch urself in the face pls, tokki x the message reads.
Simple. Effective. To the point.
But everyone calls him that, you stupidly realise, now.
And so you change the name to 'Mike'.
Before you can even really realise what you've done, you've pressed send.
The message flitters into the chat feed. He's about to resume his game. Doesn't notice it at first.
Gives the chat one final glance, and then his eyes widen. He sits up taller. Straighter. "Mike?"
You close the lid of your laptop immediately.
"Fuck."
THE STREETS
WAUSAN-RO, HONGDAE
FRIDAY 23:51
"Tae is on in five," Rae squeals, dragging you down the road at lightning speed.
You'd spent far too long at dinner, and also had far too much to drink with your food, so have been forced to make an undignified sprint to the club in an attempt to make it in before the place reaches capacity.
There's already a queue. You can see it from a mile away.
Realistically, Rae could have gotten Taehyung to add her to the guest list. He'd offered. She didn't wanna look needy, so had played it coy about her plans for the evening.
After a single beer and soju, she'd decided that the idea of him hooking up with anyone but her simply wouldn't do.
"Shit," she sighs in defeat, looking at the queue. The direction you've come from means that you reach the entrance before you reach the queue, but even then, you can tell it goes around the block. "Are there no other clubs these people can go to?!"
There are—but this club is rammed tonight for the same reason Club Sundown was rammed the week before. People want to see the Crescent Collective.
You didn't realise it at the time, but you'd bypassed the queue of the second club last weekend because Jungkook had been with you.
And as if by a stroke of luck, or perhaps a twist of fate, the same tattooed hand that had held you as you slept last weekend is now putting out a cigarette just a few steps away.
Eyes landing on yours, he looks away again, almost immediately. Feels embarrassed. Stupid. For the way you left him, and also for the way he knows you must know who he is, now.
Behind a red rope, he's away from the general crowd. It's sort of obnoxious, you think—but also know Jungkook is anything but.
"They're with me," Jungkook says to the bouncer, not really looking at you, but nodding in your general direction. Is deliberately keeping a little distance. Instead, he says to Rae, "Tae wouldn't want you waiting in line."
Nodding, the security guard makes way for you, stamping the backs of your hands with UV-activated ink as you walk past.
"Thank you!" Rae beams.
"No worries," Jungkook smiles right back. "He's about to start. Was just getting air. You're lucky you arrived when you did."
"Angel," she praises. "I'll get you a drink while we're in there."
You know her well enough now to know that she absolutely will not, but you don't say anything. Instead, you fold your arms over your chest as you walk, suddenly feeling all awkward in Jungkook's presence.
"Nabi," he curtly greets you as you head down the stairs.
"Tokki," you greet him back just as formally. Consider calling him 'Mike' instead, but you chicken out.
Face scrunching up, Jungkook tries his best not to cringe at himself. Doesn't know if you're addressing him by his tattoo moniker, or just calling him Tokki because you know it's his identifier online.
"How have you been?" He asks, not wanting to let it simmer.
"Alright," you say, aware of how awkward this all feels, as you descend the stairs and into the club. The music is getting louder, and soon you won't be able to hear him talk unless you're in each other's ears. "And you?"
"Alright."
Just as quickly as he appeared, Jungkook is lost to the crowd.
He doesn't care to stick around if he's just going to be hung out to dry by you again. He tells himself that he only made sure you got in to keep Rae happy for Taehyung's sake—yet as he rejoins his friends in their booth, he finds himself desperately seeking you out again.
It takes him a while, but he eventually spots you by the bar in conversation with Rae. He can't make out what you're saying, but notices how your eyes are flickering around the room. Seems as if you're hunting for something.
Deep down, even if he pretends like he doesn't, he hopes it's for him.
Pulled away from your search by the bartender passing over drinks to the pair of you, Jungkook feels bad. Knows the drinks are pricey in this place. Also knows, from the conversations you've already had, that you're on a tight budget. Had said that once the semester starts, you'll stop going to parties. Are seemingly unaware of the fact the parties never stop in this city. You'll learn.
When your eyes finally land on his a little while later, you're surprised by his intense gaze—intrigued by his lack of shame for being caught out. He doesn't look away or appear embarrassed. If anything, it's quite the opposite.
Girls are vying for his attention all around him, yet you receive all of it. Half the room away, hundreds of people create a sea between you both. Jungkook thinks he'd swim through it, no matter how choppy the water, if it meant he could have you right now.
You're the one who left, though.
It's up to you to come back.
Part of you doesn't want to, but then you see another girl making advances, and Rae's horror over other girls trying it on with Taehyung seems to have rubbed off on you. The idea of it makes your skin crawl. You're drunk, and a little reactive, but Jungkook likes playing with fire.
As you work your way through the crowd towards him, he tries his best not to grin. Finds himself vindicated in his desire to be close to you, 'cause it seems like you want it, too.
Sliding in between Jungkook and the girl, you turn and apologise.
"Just need to borrow him for a second," you smile, clutching at his shirt and pulling him away from the booth before she even has a chance to protest.
With an ever-so-satisfied smirk, Jungkook shrugs towards the other girl, and lets you drag him wherever you want. He's putty in your hands, a little tipsy and desperately in need of attention from you.
For the past week, he's played scenario over scenario over scenario in his head about this moment, and now that it's happening, he's glad he let you seek him out. Is so pleased that you actively want him just as much as he wants you.
In the middle of the crowd, you're hidden from prying eyes. It's too dark to notice any discerning features of the people around you, yet somehow, Jungkook seems like a vibrant golden light to you. Impossible to miss. Unable to ignore.
You wanna talk. Ask him about who the fuck he is. Explain that you didn't mean to leave so heartlessly.
Taehyung's set is so overwhelmingly loud, though. Can barely even hear yourself think.
As soon as he'd spotted Rae in the crowd, Taehyung had sent the bar coordinator to go and get her. She's sitting pretty up in the DJ booth, incredibly pleased with herself. Notices you and Jungkook almost immediately. Knows it'll be on Twitter in the next few hours, especially if that damn butterfly tattoo of yours is noticed.
Bunnies and butterflies have been trending for days.
Jungkook speaks, but you can't hear him.
"Huh?" You ask, getting on your tippy toes, but it's fruitless. Even as his hand drops to your waist to steady you and keep you in place, you can barely make out his words. "I can't hear you!"
He can't hear jack shit, either. Frowns. Looks around. Spots Yoongi by the booth and gestures towards the side of the room. When Yoongi nods back, it's Jungkook who drags you through the crowd, now. Just beyond the DJ booth is a little black door that Yoongi meets you by. Taps in the code. Nods in your direction.
"A pleasure," he says with a knowing smirk. Miraculously, you can hear him, but ultimately, it's because you're not in the direct line of the speakers now.
You don't get a chance to respond before Jungkook gets you into what can only described as a dark hole as quickly as he can. Romance, you think to yourself, but you also are very aware of the fact Jungkook doesn't let go of your hand, even when he's searching for the light switch. It takes him a second, but he manages to recall the approximate location quickly enough.
Dingy yellow light floods into the room. Small and boxy, it's a 3-in-1 storage room, bathroom, and dressing room for 'talent'. It's why Yoongi had the code, but you can't imagine anyone with any shred of self-respect actually using this place. The walls are the same grey tiles as the floor, and the light bulb hangs from a wire without a shade. The tap on the sink drips, and you're pretty sure there's a leak in the far corner by the mirror.
None of that matters, though. All you can focus on is the man in front of you. Though not soundproof, the room does offer a far more muted version of Taehyung's set. More importantly, it provides you with privacy.
It's been a week since you last saw him, face to face.
Though you have, admittedly, seen him what feels like a million times on low-quality streams from his bedroom.
Realistically, it's been about three times, but you think about it almost constantly.
"You left," is all he says, a little pout on his lips.
It's cute, you think, that he is so outwardly offended by such an act. You would have thought that a man of his position would have a habit of leaving, himself. Then again, you didn't know of his status when you left him in bed that morning.
"And you didn't die," you reply with a teasing smile, trying not to make it sound so severe. "You were fine without me."
"I'm not joking," he says, even if he can't help but smile at the recollection of how stupid the conversation before bed had been. "You left. It was rude."
"I had brunch plans," you tell him, reaching your hands out for his. He wants to resist. Fails. Lets you pull him closer. Incredibly close, in fact. So close that you begin to notice all sorts of things. His freckles. A small scar on his cheek. A tiny fleck of glitter on his skin, no doubt from one of the girls who had been desperate for his attention earlier. "You'd only had a few hours sleep. I didn't want to disturb you."
"Could have left a note," he says, still pouty but far quieter. You can smell the Jack on his breath. Have always hated the taste, but think you could grow to like it. "Your number. Something, at least."
"I could've," you admit, edging even closer. Closing the gap. Nudging your nose against his. But then you smile. Pull back. Tease, "And you could have warned me that I'd become a trending topic on Twitter."
Just like that, Jungkook's pout snaps into the prettiest smile. His face scrunches up, lines creasing on his nose. Beneath his closed eyes reside the sweetest little puffs. He's got the kind of face that is impossible not to like.
"Ah," he cringes.
"Yeah," you laugh at the stupidity of it all. What did he expect? That you wouldn't find out? "Ah."
"In my defence," he holds his hands up, eyes wide and innocent. "You called me Tokki. How was I to know you didn't know?"
"Oh, give over," you laugh, as he reaches for your hands once again. Pulls you closer. "You know I didn't know."
Truthfully, he does know this, but it was nice to be unknown for a little while. Nice to not second guess your intentions. Even now, knowing that you know, he feels like none of it matters.
"Look," he begins, toying with the hem of your cropped shirt. Lets his fingertips graze your bare skin. Tries his best not to think about what you look like half-naked. Fails. "I only came out tonight 'cause I hoped I'd see you. I don't care about staying out till ass-o'clock, again."
"Think I've only just caught up on sleep," you hum, angling your chin up and giving him the perfect opportunity to make a move that goes beyond flirtatious touches.
"Exactly," he smiles, letting his hand squeeze the side of your waist. Pulls you closer. "And I've not drunk half as much tonight, but I think I could do with you making sure I don't die, again."
"Yeah?"
Nodding as he nudges his nose against yours, Jungkook is all smiles. Lets his lips line up against your pout.
"Yeah," he mumbles—then lets the word get lost in your lips.
Sinking into what it feels like to kiss you, Jungkook can't help but feel satisfaction. Has finally caught the damn butterfly he's been after all week.
He's played a lot of games. Won a lot of battles.
And yet victory has never tasted so sweet.
JUNGKOOK'S APARTMENT
ITAEWON-DONG, YONGSAN-GU
SATURDAY 02:07
You retrace your steps. Get a taxi to his place, 'cause there's no point pretending like he can't afford it. Not anymore.
You're not giggling like you were the first time you were in his elevator, but it's kind of impossible to do so when your back is to the wall and Jungkook's tongue is in your mouth.
Your hands roam his body—waist, ass. If you can squeeze it, you will. Just makes him deepen the kisses. If his large hands weren't cupping your jaw, keeping you close, they'd be doing the exact same thing as yours.
The ding of the elevator pulls you apart just for a second, and then you're the one pulling him down to the corridor to his place.
He doesn't open the door. Just kisses you again.
Finally understands what it means to get butterflies, 'cause he's got you, now, and he never wants to lose it.
Hooking his hands beneath your ass, he hoists you up. Gets your legs wrapped around him. Could go in, but where's the fun in that? There's a slight danger of getting caught. He knows the hallway security cameras will definitely pick this up. The threat that it could get leaked online, and the simple fact that he couldn't give a shit if it does, is kind of hot.
"I'm not fucking you out here," you tell him through a hushed giggle, when he rests his forehead against yours.
"Woah," he jokes. "Who said anything about fucking?"
"I can literally feel your boner, Jungkook."
"Touché."
He doesn't even attempt to downplay it. He puts you down. Gets you through the threshold of his apartment. Shoes off by the door, there's no need to be quiet. Yoongi and Taehyung are still out, and will be for hours. He could take his time if he really wanted.
But what he wants is you. Doesn't waste time. Gets you in his room. Kinda feels like you never left. Jungkook still wishes you hadn't, but doesn't mind the idea of you making it up to him now.
"So," you hum, trailing your fingertips across his desk. "This is where the magic happens?"
He smiles a little bashfully, head dropping for a moment before his eyes are on yours again. "Yeah. You could say that."
Now that you're back in his space, it's a little embarrassing just how many clues there were. A headset rests on the desk—black, robust, with his signature bunny ears secured on top—and a mic is hooked up by the monitor. The webcam doesn't look special, but the keyboard subtly glows in his darkened room. Violet, like the LEDs behind his screen.
A laptop covered in vinyl stickers is closed next to the set-up. He uses it when he's not streaming on his desktop. At least three of the stickers are of the Crescent Collective's logo.
Turning to fully face him, you rest your palms behind yourself and perch on the edge of the desk.
He gets a little kick out of seeing you so flippantly disregard the domain in which he dominates. Gives him a point to prove. Gets him closing the space between you, hands on your waist, dipping to your ass to leverage further back on his desk. Knows it's sturdy, 'cause he built it himself, but has never tested out quite how strong it really is. Thinks now's as good a time as any to find out.
Your legs wrap around his body with no thought, just the innate understanding that you want him in a way you're sure thousands of people have only dreamt of: in his room, on his desk, that damn 'Go Live' button just a few short clicks away.
Reaching beside you, there's a smirk on your lips as you retrieve his headset. Put it on him. Say, "The ears are cute, Tokki."
He rolls his eyes. Is fighting a smile, and currently losing. He's seen some lewd shit during his time on the internet and is well aware of the fanart that includes the ears and little else. Always found it kinda funny, before.
Now? He's so hard it almost hurts, and he thinks he could grow to like it.
As your arms drape over his shoulders, he takes them off. Puts them on you, instead. Adjusts the sizing. Gets them just right for you. Is attentive, like that. Pulls his head back a little, and then realises what a problem you're gonna be for him.
It's not so much the addition of animal ears that's getting him insatiable, but seeing you adorned with a crown that is so inherently his that does it.
Jungkook's no saint. He's had his fair share of one-nighters. A couple hours of fun never to be spoken of again. Since the group of them signed to their management agency, they've been repeatedly told how important it is to get NDA's signed. Something about it always feels so icky to Jungkook. Cruel, almost. Has only had a couple hook-ups since then, both with flings he's known for a good couple of years, with no fear of them spilling the beans on how prettily he whines when he cums.
You're the first new girl in a long time. He knows he should really pause things before you cut to the chase—but then your hand is trailing down his thick forearm, delicately stroking his rabbit moon with a curious smile. Decides he doesn't care.
"The ears are cute," he replies. Teasingly adds, "Nabi."
The position of your arms over his shoulders ensures the tattoos he'd traced the week before are fully displayed for him. As his eyes drop to your butterfly, you're curiously smitten by the way his lips move to press a kiss against it again.
"Suit me?"
"Mhmm," he hums, eyes flickering back up to yours. "Should also get you a pair of butterfly wings, or something."
"I'd make you wear them," you tell him with a cheeky glint in your eye. "Turn you into a butterfly, yourself. Your girlies in the chat would love that."
Jungkook knows without a shadow of a doubt he'd let you. Not for the girlies in the chat, but for you.
Ghosting his lips against yours, he's waiting for you to press down. Is letting you take the lead.
Your kisses are sweet. Tepid. Reserved.
You're feeling; his hands on your waist, the pressure of his lip rings, the presence of his nose.
And then he's feeling; your bare skin as his large hands slip beneath the fabric of your shirt, the way your legs wrap around him, the vibration of a small groan against his lips.
The skirt you're in is bunched around your hips, and the positioning is just right for you to feel how hard he is against your underwear. It's a little undignified, you'll admit, but you're impatient, so you take control. Reposition his hand between your legs. Encourage him to take things further.
"Yeah?" He checks.
Nodding into a needy kiss, you mumble, "Please."
It might've been a while, but Jungkook's muscle memory is enviable. He's the best player on the team for that very reason.
As he hooks your underwear to the side, he's pleased to be greeted with indications of your arousal. Smirks into the kisses he's giving you, as his fingertips graze against your clit. Trails his lips to your neck. Wants to hear the way you gasp as he pushes his thick middle finger inside you.
"Fuck," you sigh at the welcome intrusion. Nod, as he curls his finger almost immediately. He's got a lot to thank those damn video games for, that's for sure.
Softly moaning, just how he hoped you would, there's an arch to your back as he picks up a pace. The need to perform, almost.
Head tipping back as Jungkook fucks another finger into you, you're unable to think too cognitively. Can only think about the way he feels. The smell of his hair as he presses kisses against your neck, and how prominent his collarbones are as your nails trail up his toned torso.
"Feels so good," you tell him. Move the hand of yours that's been resting on his shoulder to his hair. Tug on it a little. Elicit the prettiest of whines from him.
There's something to be said for making a man—especially one of such strength, stature, status—so weak. Gets you all giggly. Jungkook can feel the satisfaction ripple through your entire body, and it just makes him groan against your neck even more.
"You're so wet," he praises, pulling back to study your face as he plays with you. Lets his thumb stroke up against your clit ever so gently. Revels in the way you get a little shaky. Twitchy. With those damn bunny ears, you really are like a little rabbit. Jungkook finally understands why the fan artists choose to draw him in such a way. It is hot. "You're making me so fuckin' hard."
And then you're giggling again.
"Is it a joke to you, huh?" He smirks. Looks down at your pussy, all swollen and sopping wet for him, in the hazy violet light of his room. Knows that his throbbing cock is gonna stuff you so fuckin' full that laughing won't be an option. Is desperate for it. "How badly I want you is just a big joke to you, huh, bunny?"
The way he groups you in with his moniker is too damn hot.
"Dunno," you rasp, desperately trying to hold off the orgasm that's building inside you. "Fuck me and find out."
Reaching for the button of his trousers, you're quick as you wrestle his jeans down over his ass. Don't bother pushing them down entirely. Just enough to get his boxers exposed, and in turn, his thick cock. Hard and engorged, his desperation for you is evident. A small patch of precum seeps through the fabric of his boxers. He curses as your thumb strokes against it.
"Condom?" You ask, knowing you've got none on you.
"Hold that thought," he says, regretfully pulling away from you.
Watching on as he pushes down his jeans, and strips himself of his shirt, you're at a loss for words. You've seen him like this before, but it's so much hotter knowing that he's gonna be fucking himself into you as soon as he possibly can.
Jungkook could very easily lead you to his bed. Get you comfy. Reach to his bedside cabinet for a condom. Fuck you how he likes—doggy-style, minimal face-to-face contact—and be done with it all very quickly.
Instead, he says, "Stay here."
Doing as you're told, you watch on as he walks to the cabinet, and retrieves a condom. Admire his back, and his broad shoulders. The valley of his spine, and the hard work he's put into crafting his physique. Smirk to yourself as he dips into his boxers. Strokes himself. Once, twice. Tears the packet open with his teeth, just like you were always taught not to do, and rolls the latex down his thick shaft.
"What?" he smirks as he walks back, realising your eyes are transfixed on his cock.
You say nothing. Smile. Hold your hands out for Jungkook to take, just so you can pull him back even quicker.
Lips pressing into yours as he closes the gap, Jungkook is all smiles. Rubs the head of his cock against your pussy, gathering up your arousal all over his tip. Lines himself up with your entrance. Waits for you to give him the go-ahead.
Hand on his ass, you pull him closer. Edge the crown of his cock into you. Whimper. Beg. "Please."
Sinking into you with a laboured grunt, he's surprised with how much tighter you are around his cock than you were with his fingers. Wet and warm, there's an undeniable pleasure that sparks through his body as he gets familiar with the way you feel.
Slowly, his hips begin to pick up a pace. As his tongue strokes into your mouth, there's no dignity to the way he's taking you. The increased pace means heightened moans, and it's not just you—it's him, too.
"Shit, yeah," he grits. "So fuckin' tight, aren't you?"
Whining, you nod into his kisses. Are at his entire disposal as he grips your waist, proving exactly why Tokki is the perfect nickname for him.
As much as he likes the ears, he's a little worried that he might fuck you so hard they fall off. Doesn't wanna break them, and definitely doesn't wanna think about the story the boys would make up when they go live tomorrow to tease him—but also really wants to fuck you harder.
Which is funny, cause the way he tugs them off with such desperation and tosses them down, you'd be forgiven for thinking he couldn't care less about breaking them. Doesn't give you a chance to say anything, 'cause his big hands are cradling your face, bringing you in for desperate kisses once more.
There's a lewdness to the sounds you make together, but Jungkook knows that if he was an entirely different kind of streamer, you'd make bank together. Wonders about the way it would look on camera. Worries. Pauses.
"You good?" You check a little breathlessly as he reaches behind you, just to tug the wire to his webcam from the plus.
"Yeah," he nods, still fiddling around behind you. Smiles in the hedonistic haze as your lips find a new home on his neck. Strokes your hair gently, and presses a kiss to the side of your head. Quietly says, "Just making sure there's no way in hell I accidentally start streaming."
You hum, all purry and pliant. "People would pay good money to see it."
While he agrees, and has had the same thought process, he doesn't care. "You saying I should be charging you for this?"
"Oh, no," you say all very sweetly. "You should be paying me."
"I'll pay you with orgasms," he promises, knowing that it's a rare currency for one-night strands.
You smirk. Pat the top of his head. "Sure you will."
If there's one thing Jungkook loves, it's a challenge.
Pulling back, he turns you around. Gets you bent over his desk with zero opposition from you. Rubs himself against your soaked cunt, then asks, "Yeah?"
"Yeah," you smirk, and then settle into a sigh as he pushes into you. The feeling of fullness from Jungkook is one that's hard to compare. So thick, and fat, and heavy, his cock really is just as impressive as he is.
With one hand hooked at the crease of your thigh, the other holds the top of your shoulder. Gets you pushed down onto his cock as far as you possibly can be. There's a slight reflection in his streaming plaque beside the monitor, and you're pleased to see just how intensely focused he is on you, brows furrowed, pretty pink lips resting ajar. The silver of his lip rings and chain catch in the light, and you find you can't look at him for too long. He's too hot.
But then he's reaching down for your clit as he fucks into you. Has your legs shaking. The waves of a familiar sensation begin to lap against the shores of your pleasure.
"Fuck," you whine. "Feels good. Keep it like that."
Jungkook knows better than to ignore your requests. Does as he's told, the pressure of his fingers on your clit only deepening. Rubbing calculated circles against you, he knows just how to work you up. Gets you whining. Mewling. Moaning.
"Gonna cum, aren't you?" he smirks, as his own high builds.
"Fuck—"
"C'mon," he husks, feeling your walls tighten around him. He doesn't stop his relentless chase. Will win your orgasms fair and square. Continues pounding into you. Pace fast, strokes deep, he's everything you could ever want and more—and then he's slowing. Keeping you plugged, nice and deep, but focusing on the way he's toying with your clit. "You know you wanna cream for me. All over my cock, pretty Nabi. C'mon—"
"I'm close," you all but whimper. "So—fuck. So close."
"Yeah, you are," he tells you—and then your legs are shaking, pussy tightly clamping around his cock, one hand tense against his desk while the other grabs at his wrist. Uncontrollable, is the way you whine for him. It's so needy—so desperate and pathetic—that it's almost a sob. Jungkook doesn't ease up. In fact, his hips gain a little pace again as your orgasm shatters around you both. He's breathless, but manages to choke out, "Flithy fuckin' cunt. Feels so fuckin' good. Fuck."
The frail limpness of your body as the orgasm smokes away is cute. Jungkook loves it. You're so weak for him. He fucks into you still, chasing his own high, and your whines only get louder. It's overwhelming, but you never want to lose the feeling.
It doesn't take much. Just a minute or so of your tight cunt, and Jungkook is pulling out. Even though he doesn't ask you to, you get to your knees as he tears the condom off.
"In my mouth," you beg, and who is he to reject such an offer?
Jerking himself to completion, Jungkook is all pretty and pathetic when he cums, too. Looks at you with eyes so starry you'd been forgiven for thinking he was a descendant of the constellations.
He milks the final few spurts of himself onto your wet tongue, and curses when you press dainty kisses to his tip. Stroking your tongue against him, you don't want to waste a drop. Look up at him and find that his eyes are resting shut from the pleasure of it all.
Silence surrounds you both, just your beating hearts and laboured breaths filling to the room. He helps you up. Holds you tight. Hugs you for a little while, then presses a kiss to the side of your head. "Thanks."
"My pleasure," you giggle - and then he's smiling, too. Feels vindicated by his irrational thoughts about you over the last few days. He pays no mind to the fact you're still technically dressed, and he's basically naked.
As he sorts himself out, you perch back up on his desk and languidly swing your legs. Enjoy the thought of memories plaguing him whenever he tried to play his little games over the next few days.
"You wanna grab a shower?" he offers. "Food, too? Dunno about you, but I'm fuckin' starving."
"Same," you nod, biting down on your bottom lip. "I'll go wash up, you sort food? Are places still open for delivery?"
Checking his phone for the time, Jungkook is surprised that it's closer to midnight than it is to his morning alarm. Only a handful of places will offer delivery at this time, but that's enough.
"Works for me," he says with a yawn, then opens what you had assumed was the closet door. Reveals an en-suite and knocks his head to the side. "Get your shower. Gimmie a shout if you need anything."
Tiles large and grey, it's the perfect counterpart to his bedroom. A little dark, but it's only because Jungkook hates using the big light. Always flicks the small light switches instead. There's a window overlooking the city, and even though you're only seven floors up, the hills of Yongsan-gu mean that he's got a view you could only dream of.
You're about to start the shower up when he calls through. "Is pizza good?"
"Pizza's good," you call back with a smile. Look yourself in the mirror and wonder how the fuck you ended up in the bathroom of arguably the most famous person you've ever met. Decide it's better not to question it.
The shower begins to cascade down, even if your sins are washed way, you know you won't be able to forget the feeling of Jungkook so easily.
Truth be told, you won't even try.
YONSEI UNIVERSITY DORMS
DAESIN-DONG, SEODAEMUN-GU
SUNDAY 21:13
"L in the chat," booms the voice of Taehyung through your laptop speakers. His trademark grin rests on his face as he teases Jungkook.
You've only just opened the stream. Instantly, you focus on the prettily lopsided smirk of Jungkook's lips. You've learned it's an almost permanent fixture on his boyish face. Shaking his head, he's adjusting his headset. Making it a little looser so that it'll fit him properly.
No one is questioning it.
What they are questioning, is where the fuck that pretty purple bruise on his neck has come from.
"Cross-fit," Jungkook just shrugs, knowing that it's the colloquial term for suspicious bruises after some idol used the same excuse. Blatant horseshit. Jungkook doesn't care.
"I've never done cross-fit, but I know you're bullshitting," Taehyung snorts.
The chat seems to agree with him.
"Thought I was a virgin?" Jungkook states a little cheekily, making reference to Taehyung's usual banter. "How else would I get one?"
Taehyung knows better than the retort. Knows that Jungkook could very easily slip something about Rae into the conversation.
Virgin? You type through a message on a private discord chat with Jungkook. He'd set it up the day before. Has already sent you, like, a thousand messages. Is what can only be described as obsessed—but it's mutual. Could have fooled me.
As his eyes glance down to his laptop screen, he fails to hide his smile. Had opened your chat on there, cause he didn't wanna accidentally broadcast the messages onto his stream. Despite this, he doesn't care that there are nearly 10,000 people in his stream merely minutes into it. Is far more interested in his chat thread with you. Replies immediately.
Stop distracting meI'm working</3
Giggling as the message pings through to you, there's a giddy quality to the way Jungkook makes you feel.
He'd spent the day in bed with you after your night together. Had wanted you to stay when he started streaming that evening. Said he'd only be an hour or so, and was incredibly pouty when you did leave.
It had just been him on last night's stream—headset off 'cause he didn't wanna adjust it back yet, hoodie on to hide his neck. The other boys were nursing hangovers, so he could do what he liked.
What he did do had you incredibly curious. Was just chatting. Talking to the comment section. Sleepily reeling off facts he'd recently learned about butterflies. Debating over their lifespan.
You're not naive to the fact that Jungkook does this streaming stuff as a profession, and are aware that the more people talking about his stream on other platforms, the more viewers he'll get.
Made sense for him to add fuel to the butterfly-related fire by talking about them.
Had sent you a message earlier that evening to ask what kind of butterfly you had on your skin.
A Monarch, you'd told him.
"See, the thing is," Jungkook had rambled to his viewers a little later on. "Most butterflies have super short lifespans—Monarch's included."
Eyes all starry, lights in his bedroom purple as per usual, he'd looked cosy. You wished you'd have stayed.
"But there's a specific kind. Migrating Monarchs. They're the last of their generation—the final butterflies of the year," he marvelled at the magic of it all.
His facts were a little hazy, but he knew enough. Had been down a you-shaped rabbit hole all afternoon.
"And they migrate, right? Move away from home—somewhere warmer—and then it just extends their lifespan. 180 days. Not 30. That's six months. Six months. It's a long time. It's not fleeting. Not in the slightest."
It's also, curiously, exactly how long you're scheduled to stay in Korea for.
"I dunno," Jungkook had just sighed, a little forlorn, trying to make sense of his thoughts.
He bit down on his bottom lip, stroking his thumb against the hard plastic ears of his headset, then focused on the camera again. Wondered if you were watching.
He simply shrugged. Said, "Counts for something, though, right?"
#byholly#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fanfiction#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook ff#jk ff#jungkook x reader#jungkook imagine#bangtan fic#jungkook fluff#streamer!jungkook#non idol au#bts fanfic#bangtan ff#jungkook fic#jeon jungkook x reader
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‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ Astrology Observations II ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊
✺ Pisces Mars are experts at ghosting. You guys take action in such an elusive way because you hate confrontation, or just unnecessary drama. If y’all are annoyed or feeling a way about something you don’t say anything right away and you only react when things boil over into the point where you can’t control it anymore and you explode. Then you immediately bad for getting so angry. Just work on communicating how you feel, when you feel it, sometimes other people won’t know how you feel until you express it.
✺ Mars in the 1st house synastry isn’t always as sexy and hot as people think it is. The mars person’s attraction could be so strong for the house that they come off too strong which can completely turn off the house person. (If there isn’t any other compatible synastry)
✺ The sign in your second house is usually the sign, or ones with those placements, that you feel the most possessive over.
✺ Also, the second house can explain your appetite and how you like to eat. For example, Sag risings having Capricorn in the 2nd house prefer home cooked meals over fast food. They are very strict as to what they put in their body and they won't eat just anybody's food.
✺ As of the other hand, Scorpio risings having Sag in the 2nd house go from extremes where they are either eating really healthy or just absolutely terrible. They love fast food and can tend to over indulge in these pleasures.
✺ In my opinion, 4th house synastry feels more like family or a really close friend than anything romantic (mostly just Sun and Moon) It feels almost weird to cross that line, like if you do things would turn awkward. OR if it is a romantic connection the planet person may have more feelings than the house person does.
✺ I will stand by this but 6th house synastry is SOOOO underrated!!! If you are looking for a long-term relationship with someone having personal planets here will really help the relationship last. Especially when Sun is there it’s almost like there is a never a dull moment and each and every day you guys are never get bored of one another. Venus here it’s like you guys find pleasure doing the small things together the most. You would even be happy doing things like grocery shopping with them, stopping by at your job to give you flowers, and makes living together very easy. Mars in ones 6th house is sending them to do things, and them not minding at all, they love to make you happy by doing things for you.
I do feel like moon in 6th house synastry would be a bit aggravating. Feeling like the person would rather intellectualize and nitpick your emotions rather than being the one to help you feel them. Almost feels as if you are being judged for any emotion you show. It might be annoying feeling like someone is constantly questioning you about how they feel or feeling like you constantly have to take on the baggage of what the other person is going through.
✺ It’s not said enough but Capricorn placements, especially mercury and Sun, are the most hilarious people ever. Their dry sense of humor and how sarcastic they are is UNMATCHED. They will say the things that other people are scared to say and you can’t help but to laugh. They have that dark humor that no other sign can replicate. It’s not everyone’s cup of tea but they are so real!
✺ Pisces Mars and Pisces rising’s are the ones who are attracted to people that u would least expect them to be with. Or they are attracted to the “bad boy” or the one people tell them to stay away from
✺ Sag rising don’t age! No matter how old they are they have this glow about them and always look so youthful.
✺ Aquarius and Sag Venus’ really don’t have a type. They just love someone who makes them happy and they can go adventures with . These people are attracted to cerebral people and anyone who can really expand their mind. You often hear these people say “I like who I like” or “I just love, love”. This could change if there is some Capricorn energy in the chart which could make someone value a more traditional approach to this fun loving placement.
‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ Thank you guys for making it to the end of my post! ♥️if you have any experience with any of these placements/synastry above please comment down below your experience! I would love to hear you guys’ feed back. Please keep in mind these are just my personal opinions take everything with a grain of salt. Love youusss💋 ♡
#scorpio rising#sagittarius rising#2nd house#astrology#astrology observations#pisces mars#4th house synastry#synastry#synastry observations#6th house synastry#aquarius venus#sagittarius venus#mars synastry#pisces rising#capricorn#capricorn mercury#capricorn sun#moon in 6th synastry#second house#astrology observation
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Introducing Follower gang!
There. Finally did all the Bishops follower designs!
The 7 deadly sins
And some other follower gang, done with lineart this time because the other 2 pieces made me lose my soul for how long they took.
(Also a small HC if I may: Dr. Sozonius is trapped inside the mushroom on Sozos head, while the actual mushroom is controlling his body)
+ some more doodles
Info about the 7 Sins and more doodles below:
Jeg represents Greed - he was one of the first of Lamb's followers. (At first, it was very difficult for Lambert to indoctrinate people, due to their inexperience, this guy was like the 5th or so) Jeg has...a very specific personality to say the least, yet the Lamb can't help but be fond of him. They eventually nominate him the Tax enforcer role and...That might've been the worst decision of their life. But they did not take the role away. Jeg acts smug 24/7 and relishes in his new power, but deep down, dudes pretty insecure, ( but don't tell anyone!) He used to have a huge crush on the lamb, but then Narinder and eventually the other bishops came, and since their leader was for some reason head over heels for the ex god of death, Jeg grew bitter and often got into fights with Nari, as well as charging him and his other siblings more than the average follower. Though he's mostly mellowed out since then.
Brash represents Gluttony They despise Helob, since they used to fight for "food" a lot, and eventually Brash got really injured and was found by the Lamb. She tried to eat them, but was quickly disarmed. Despite this, they decided to spare him and bring his sorry ass back to the cult to indoctrinate. They were very cunning and didn't trust the lamb either, but eventually they cooled off and accepted the new life. She still eats people tho, just not from the cult, otherwise jail or *worse*
Yara represents Pride She is one of the core followers. She's very strict and somewhat self-centered, she likes things done her way, or if not her way, the lambs way. Period. No one else can boss her around or even give a helpful advice. She's actually a pretty stand up deer, and despite being incredibly stubborn still makes a good friend. She gets along with most people though Brash annoys her, since he keeps snatching body parts off corpses. She has always been extremely devoted to the lamb and will be annoyed if any follower dissents and tries to preach against them. She wasn't surprised in the slightest when they eventually took down all the bishops.
Thorn represents Envy He had a pretty terrible life before the cult. When he was brought in, she was bitter about her newfound situation. He wasn't very trusting of the lamb and thought they expected something out of her (which technically they did, but it's just work). He envies the fools who are so oblivious and just do everything as they're told and let their lives be guided by some amateur god. Similar to the other two, he puts on a mask, He often acts overly saccharine to hide his true feelings, but doesn't have any bad intentions. (Most of the time) She does genuinely like some people, but others, he only pretends to like to appease the lamb or to blackmail them. He hates when the people he actually cares about are threatened.
Jermo represents Wrath Jermo absolutely does not trust anyone. Similar to Thorn, and most other followers tbh, their life was absolutely horrible prior to the cult. They trusted some people, they got betrayed, and almost died several times because of it. It was extremely difficult for the lamb to make them stop dissenting. They legit had to give them the loyalty necklace in order for them to finally stop dissenting. Jermo keeps getting into fights with other followers, because they feel as though everyone is always against them or is constantly judging them. (They're technically not wrong) They've died 5 times, because they keep getting into fights with other followers. Lamb strongly considered keeping them dead, but decided to challenge themself with them (also they're too cuddly to just be killed off) Despite their many, *many* flaws, Thorn has a huge crush on them, since he's one of the people who managed to see their soft side. Jermo, deep, deep, deep down actually cares a lot, but they've been hurt too much by everyone, so they retaliate for the same stuff to not repeat.
Herett represents Lust At some point, she passingly heard about the cult and since it seemed like a peaceful place from the rumors (and also had hot people in it) she eagerly joined in. She's usually in the kitchen area, if not hanging around the love tent or babysitting some kids. She crushes on almost everyone, but for some reason she hates Kallamar (legit in my actual game she rejected him so hard, despite having the lustful trait and not caring prior)
Mateo represents Sloth Is perhaps the 1st or 2nd of Lambs followers, so they're absolutely not letting go of him, dudes lived 4 long lives and is tired of it, he keeps switching jobs since with age he's been slacking off more. He's currently stuck as a janitor (he hates it) He's also one of the few people who managed to befriend Jermo, his mellow, don't care attitude is somewhat comforting to them. Aside that, he gets along with almost everyone, as best as he can at least.
Not much else to say about the gang in the third pic but Riley and Dannie are platonic bffs and were forced to babysit kids when the lamb was crusading. The lamb was a little incompetent here to give carnivores children to take care of, but thankfully they actually managed to be good with them and got used to being on nanny duty.
The capybara (Beige) is a retired teacher and adopted a little owlet to take care of (Chip)
While Femur is our below yellow cat, and that's my HC name for him. He's a gatherer here.
#cotl#cult of the lamb#cotl lamb#cotl narinder#cotl toww#cotl leshy#cotl helet#cotl kallamar#cotl shamura#cotl oc#cotl ocs#cotl sozo#cotl yellow cat#more ocs#cotl fanart
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