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1kook · 4 years

Text

disney+ & bust

this is part of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb. It’s not. It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door. warnings; arguments, feelings of insecurity, bit of asshole jk, smut in the forms of degradation, dumbification, choking, fingering, spit kink, self punishment, unprotected but [ passionate ] sex, jk losing his cool, return of mean jk, he is actually an emotional mess in this one wtf miscellaneous; ANGST, anniversaries, the L word😳, app developer kook, rip ‘pretty girl’ </3, we all become phineas and ferb stans word count; 13k !!

notes; me: *writes couple who’s whole arc is being silly* y’all: MAKE THEM SUFFER GIVE US ANGST!! u ask I deliver so now we all suffer 😐 ngl it was hard writing this fic n u might notice there’s some parts that seem weird n that’s bc this was TWO fics w diff wording but I ended up mixing them bc I’m insane. still had a lot of fun! felt like I challenged myself!! not proofread bc when I say we suffer we SUFFER

please let me know what you think!!! a simple ask goes a long way <3

previous part: kissanime & foreplay

Approximately one week after The Bullet Bestie’s rise to prominence, Jungkook grows annoyed with it as his weirdly competitive nature rears its ugly head the more and more orgasms that little vibrator coaxes out of you. It turns on a weird switch in him, something slightly stuck up and snooty that he’ll never admit to out loud but is there nonetheless. By the following Friday, The Bullet Bestie is nestled deep in your garbage can and Jungkook’s back to pleasuring you with his tongue and fingers alone.

He had those moments in him, the ones where he liked to think he was better than any and everyone else, and occasionally they manifested against inanimate objects like a bullet vibrator.

Despite his polite and generally soft exterior, you catch glimpses of that cocky spirit more than anyone else. Over the past year, you’ve come to realize that Jungkook’s personality was like a coin that had been left out in the sun too long. He had this sweet and reserved nature you saw most times, a kindhearted boyfriend who adored you almost as much as you adored him. He was your angel whom you knew had a heart of gold, even if you were slowly bringing out his more childish tendencies. You knew him like the back of your hand, knew what his mom’s favorite color was and how he liked to stack the plates in his cabinet according to size and make. It was a side that was rusted from years of being out in the sun, basking in its adoring warmth, and you loved every inch about it.

And still, there was this other side to him you rarely saw. This cocky asshole who hid beneath the soft smiles and careful hands, making his appearance only through sly smirks and a tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. He was a braggart, a man who knew his greatness yielded for no one and wanted that fact shoved down everyone’s faces. This Jungkook, this other side that never saw the light of day, was like the Hyde to his Jekyll. An unexpected, almost mean side to him that only dared make his appearance when his exhilaration was at an all-time high. Like when he was fucking you into another dimension, or kicking your ass in Mario Kart, or like now, when he was receiving an award at an annual tech ceremony.

On the eve of your one year anniversary, Jungkook’s company invites him to an awards ceremony for other web and app developers like him. It’s a grand event, filled with all the biggest nerds in the developing industry here to present the baby nerds with awards. Jungkook lies somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, both a seasoned player and a rookie all at once. He spends the night tolling you around in a floor-length gown and fangirling over all the “legends” in the room.

You know next to none of these people and none of their accomplishments but still pretend you respect them to hell and back. By the end of the main dinner, you’re sympathizing with Barbie’s ever-smiling features because your cheeks feel sore.

Towards the end of the night, Jungkook wins that random award— okay, who were you fooling? He wins the Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award, recognizing him for all the hard work you’ve seen him put in this past year. It’s probably the highest recognition he can receive at this point in his career. It was an esteemed award that was bestowed upon only the most innovative developer of the year among tech companies, something Jungkook had briefly mentioned he always wanted. It’s basically the equivalent of placing first place in his field, but given Jungkook’s competitive industry and his young age, you think it’s like telling all these old Facebook lords to suck his big fat cock. (But that was your job when you got home.)

He gives a short little thank you speech, promising to work hard and own up to this title. The people around you are swooning, obviously endeared with his soft puppy dog features and melodic voice. They don’t know him like you do, don’t know that uppity twist to his grin like you do. It doesn’t slip off his face even when he steps down off the stage, arms wide open as he comes barreling towards you. Even with you in his arms, the congratulations that are thrown from every direction ring loudly in his ears and swell that ego of his.

The night goes like that for the most part, Jungkook’s acquaintances approaching him every few minutes to rain down their praises. He goes a little crazy at the open bar after a while, shoving the gold trophy into your arms as his beloved work seniors whisk him off for drinks. You don’t mind because you resigned yourself to a night of playing Jungkook’s perfectly perfect partner anyway, watching him politely mingling with his coworkers. Despite his earlier success, you know he won’t brag about it verbally. No, he’ll wait until the two of you get home—your place or his—and remind you how amazing he is with a quick snap of his hips.

As you said, he’ll never boast aloud.

However, that doesn’t mean you won’t.

“That’s my boyfriend,” you explain to the seventh person that greets you that night, excitedly pointing to where said boyfriend was slowly losing all sense of self by the bar. You don’t know anyone here beside Jungkook, and you’re pretty sure no one in their hammered minds is going to remember who you are anyway, so a little gloating never hurt anyone. “He won the ‘I’m Better Than Everyone Else’ award tonight,” you emphasize to the tipsy woman beside you who only laughs at your exaggeration. You assume she’s like you, accompanying one of the many developers here, because as soon as you finish boasting about Jungkook she moves to brag about someone too.

Truth be told, you spend the whole night re-analyzing the Zootopia movie you saw on Disney+ the other night in your head. So if the little fox fellow didn’t control himself would the city have fallen to ruins? Why was the useless sheep girl so evil and bitter? Why was there an unreal amount of romantic tension between the fox and the rabbit? Whatever, you’ll have to rewatch it some other night, and with your new Disney+ account, you could watch it anywhere you wanted to.

Now, you had never bothered to purchase a Disney+ subscription or even tried to swindle Jungkook for his password before. As far as you know, Disney+ was filled with old tv shows from your childhood, sitcoms that made you laugh when you were ten. There’s nothing wrong with that, but personally, you were a firm believer that that which was perfect should not be touched once finished; in other words, you were utterly terrified you’d rewatch an old episode of The Wizards of Waverly Place, only to find out the same joke you’ve been regurgitating for the past ten years doesn’t actually go that way.

However, the harsh reality was that Disney+ was good for a few things. Ugh, you hate when giant corporations provide decent services. Aside from Zootopia, you’ve watched about every animated media on there as well, all of which you replay in your mind as Jungkook has the time of his life with these nerds, knocking back champagne glass after champagne glass.

Anyway, the night ends a little past midnight, and Jungkook who is buzzed on alcohol and high on exhilaration ends up calling an Uber for the two of you. Your apartment— the new one he had not only helped you hunt for but also helped you move into, greatly cutting the cost of movers out with those glistening biceps and thick thighs —is still going through her rebellious phase where the potted plants are trying to take over, courtesy of Kim Namjoon. So for now, there’s a potted plant in an awkward corner that both of you stub your toe against on your way to your bedroom.

You’re thinking Jungkook is going to go to town tonight, given the fact he’s on Cloud 9 and has had his ego stroked by a bunch of dudes for the past couple hours. Maybe you guys can try out the hot role-playing scenario you saw on GirlsWay a few weeks ago, or the handcuffs you impulsively bought from Amazon one Monday night. Or maybe, and this one really makes you flutter, he’ll let you fully take the reins for once.

All those lewd fantasies end up being for naught because just as you shimmy out of your gown (with the help of his hands, of course) and turn to climb him like a tree, he’s on the other side of the room getting your makeup remover out for you. And also talking. A lot. And way more than usual.

“Did you see him, babe?” he sighs, dare you to say, dreamily, handing you the cotton pads as he begins pulling a million pins out of your hair. Slowly and with a lot of confusion, you pull your fake lashes off and begin cleaning your face. “He was amazing.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, having absolutely no idea who ‘he’ is or why Jungkook is so in love with him and not you at this very moment. “But so were you,” you add. Perfect. Stroke his ego and then stroke his cock.

Jungkook sputters at your praise. He’s carefully placing your hairpins on your thigh, cheeks flaming red every time he leans over you. “Was I?” he murmurs, voice sweet in that cute little way it always gets when he’s downed one too many shots of whiskey, enough to be buzzed but not enough to be wasted.

You turn and the pins clatter to the floor and across the bedsheets. “Yes,” you confirm, ignoring his sad huff at the mess you’ve made. Instead, you grab him by the collar of that pink button-up he taunted you with all night. “You were fucking incredible and I think incredible men deserve to have their dick sucked.”

Jungkook laughs at your vulgar statement, holding you gently by the hips as you climb into his lap. “Is that so?” The soft, shy persona is gone now, replaced by the gentle stirring beneath his dress pants. You nod hurriedly, plopping down on his lap and running your hands through his styled hair.

“Yes,” you confirm, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Luckily for you, I know this nymphomaniac who would gladly gobble up your cock at your every command.”

He snorts just as you push him into his back, nose adorably scrunched up. “First of all, you know I hate that word,” he chuckles, finally gracing you with a sweet peck that only makes you want him to fuck you into the fifth dimension. “Secondly, please don’t ever say you’ll gobble my cock up ever again.”

Something inside of you squeals with excitement as he rolls the two of you over, firm body pressing down on yours. “Oh, baby,” you groan, lazily throwing a leg over his hip. Jungkook grins and then decides to entertain you for a few minutes with a sloppy kiss.

You say a few minutes because just as things are heating up, he pulls away. He smiles apologetically. “As much as I’d love to be here with you, I actually have an early morning tomorrow.”

You frown at the sudden change in events. “Huh? They’re gonna make you work the morning after a Gatsby party?” you gasp, sitting up as he gets off of you. With every step he takes away from the bed your heart breaks a little more. “They can’t do that— that’s illegal!”

From the doorway he levels you with a comically raised brow. “No, it’s not.”

You scamper after him down the hall, watch the muscles in his back flex as he pulls his suit jacket on. “You can’t work on our anniversary— that’s illegal!” you offer instead.

He stops at your front door, feet squeezed back into his shoes. “Baby, it’s not,” he rolls his eyes, leaning down to peck your forehead. “It was either I work in the morning or work at night,” he explains, giving your messy hair a soothing caress. He’s looking at you with those eyes, the ones that make your heart lodge itself into your throat and make life a tightrope experience. There’s a devastatingly lovesick part of you that wants this moment, this kind face, to be engraved into your mind for the rest of your life. You want this to be the first and last thought you have and nothing else: just Jungkook’s adoring gaze on you for the rest of time.

The moment ends too soon when he flutters one last peck against your lips. “I’ll be done in the afternoon, okay?”

You pout. “Okay, your place?” you huff, making sure to get one last octopus squeeze around his waist. He nods. “Promise you won’t be late?”

The corners of his gaze soften. “You know I won’t,” he smiles, leaning down to bump your noses together playfully. “Can’t stay away from my pretty girl too long. Besides, I have a gift for you tomorrow.”

It’s with that sentiment and a hammering heart that you let him go. With Jungkook gone, there’s really nothing for you to do now. You took the next two days off in preparation for your anniversary sex, so you don’t have to head to sleep early like usual.

With nothing else planned, you decide on rewatching that Zootopia movie that had plagued you all night, ready to dissect every plot hole to hell and back. You don’t think Jungkook’s seen this movie yet so you add it to your long list of animated movies you’re forcing him to watch.

Part of you is actually really surprised Jungkook left. Well, kinda sorta, very, but not really. Jungkook was a good boy, that much was obvious. He took his job seriously, and if his job wanted him to come in at the asscrack of dawn, then he’d come in before the sun even rose. He was a goody-two-shoes, but even so, you were occasionally able to bring out that darker side in him.

Jungkook working, like actually working in an office setting, was pretty rare though. The dude had a chill job that let him stay home most of the time, and essentially clock in whenever he wanted. Every now and then you were able to convince him to stay, tucking him beneath your body or the covers, depending on the night, and refusing to let him go the morning after.

Once he had eaten you out until the wee hours of the day, ravenous between your thighs, and then went to work the next morning like he hadn’t broken you. Another time you had persuaded him into watching every season of the 2017 DuckTales reboot through the night. When the alarm had rung in the middle of the season finale, he had simply gotten into your shower and gone off to work.

So maybe you were a little confident in your skills, and Jungkook slipping between your fingers tonight was a huge bummer. But there was no use crying over spilled milk, you tell yourself, flinging your bra off somewhere in the corner as you snuggle back into your sheets. You’re ready to tear this Zootopia movie apart, scene by scene.

Even though your apartment is a little cold, you’re comforted by the fact Jungkook will be here to keep you warm all day tomorrow.

All men do is lie.

Despite his promise to come home early the next day, Jungkook ends up lying. The meeting he had been in all morning— the same one that had stopped you from getting bent like a pretzel the night before —drags on well past noon. Then, Kim Namjoon, AKA Jungkook’s favorite senpai in the entire world, catches wind of Jungkook’s success last night and absolutely has to take him out to lunch to celebrate.

You scoff, glaring down at your phone and the impulsive messages you’d sent out an hour ago when Jungkook had first texted you telling you he would be late.

You whirl around to stomp off in the direction of his living room, where all of yours and Jungkook’s favorite foods were growing colder by the minute. You had spent the longest time carefully laying them out, making sure the fried chicken was closer than the pizza but not closer than the breadsticks. Truthfully it’s a nightmare. There are about eight stomach aches worth of food sitting on his coffee table, the greasy stench makes you gag and will certainly stick to your hair for weeks, but none of that mattered because it was all for your beau.

Your very late beau who was making you grow more and more agitated with each minute that passed. Ugh! How inconsiderate of him to test your patience on a day like this. You didn’t want to be upset with him, but this was your first, real milestone as a couple with him. You had wanted to spend the whole day cuddled up, maybe finally tell him how much he really meant to you— definitely not waking up alone with eyeliner crusted eyes and an aching heart.

Deciding you’re being a little too dramatic, you head into the bedroom to calm down. This was fine, you tell yourself, carefully laying out the damn near harlotrous lingerie you had yet to put on. Jungkook would come over soon and everything would be A-okay.

Except for the part it’s actually F-not okay because soon it’s nearing sunset and the food has gone cold so you’ve stocked it into the fridge, and the pretty sheer bra has a wonky wire that’s two seconds away from piercing through your heart, but that doesn’t even matter because Jungkook being late for your all-day anniversary celebration has already ripped it to shreds anyway.

You plop down on the couch in defeat, impulsively opening up the Disney+ app to cry through another episode of Phineas and Ferb. You’ve abandoned the satin robe that came with the lingerie in favor of donning a big t-shirt that smells like him and makes your heart hurt even more. The setting sun paints the living room in muted oranges, the chirping of birds outside the soundtrack to your lonely day.

You end up watching some other cartoon on Disney+, avoiding the Marvel section because you had promised Jungkook he could be there when you lost your Marvel virginity. Well, at least one of you was good at keeping promises, you think bitterly. For a second, you think about randomly watching one of the infamous MCU films out of order just to spite him. But then you think of that soft puppy gaze and how disappointed he’d be in you.

Whatever! It wouldn’t ever match up to the way you felt now.

Anyway, you circle back. When you’re five episodes into Phineas and Ferb you hear the doorknob rattle.

You sit up just as the door swings open, visible from your spot on the couch. He meets your gaze almost immediately, big doe eyes caught in the act. What act? You’re not really sure. In fact, you don’t even know what you’re looking at when he walks in because he’s drowning in shopping bags. His lips twist into a grin. “Honey, I’m home,” he says playfully.

You don’t laugh.

Jungkook frowns, dumping all his bags down at the entrance before waddling over towards you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, coming to stand before you and cupping your face in his hands. He’s towering over you, so tall and gorgeous but for the first time, you’re not dazed by his beauty.

“Kook, you said you’d be back hours ago,” you say slowly, avoiding his gaze. You try to keep the frustration out of your voice, but you’ve had hours to dwell on it now, and those annoying cartoon characters, though charming at first, had only served to multiply your annoyance.

Jungkook blinks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean… yeah. But I got you presents?” he beams, glancing back at the mountainous pile he made by the door. You look over too. There are some luxury bags squeezed in between other shops you like, the occasional jewelers' logo on the side.

You stand with a sigh, sauntering off into the kitchen with him on your tail. “I don’t want presents,” you mumble, reaching to pour yourself a glass of water. You’re briefly aware of how childish you must seem. Jungkook hovers behind you.

“What? Yes, you do,” he says. “You had an entire wishlist on my Amazon of things you wanted.” It’s his turn to level you with an unreadable expression, slowly crossing his arms over his chest.

Your frown only deepens as you turn to match his stance against the counter. While it may be true that you did indeed have an entire list of impulsive items on his Amazon, that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted them all. Sometimes you just wanted to stare longingly at a pair of satin gloves without actually buying them. You don’t know how to explain this much to him. “They’re not…” you stop with another deep breath. “Forget it. Thank you for the presents.”

Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to question you. “What,” he says in an unimpressed tone, padding over to you before you can escape back into the living room to watch the entire princess movie collection on Disney+. “No, tell me what’s wrong.”

For some reason, that’s exactly what you don’t want to hear. “Jungkook,” you say flatly, narrowing your eyes at him. “You come home six hours after you said you would without telling me why, and normally I wouldn’t care, but today was supposed to be a special day for us.”

Jungkook reels at your bluntness. “Babe, I was out getting stuff for you. I know it’s our anniversary— that’s why I wanted to treat you,” he responds, oddly condescendingly like you’re a child who doesn’t understand what exactly he was doing.

You brush his hands away from your shoulders. “Yeah,” you huff. “Now I know that. But I spent all day waiting for you,” you stress, chest puffing as you grow more and more agitated by his inability to understand you. God, can he let you go now? At least a bunch of animated, geometrically drawn cartoons won’t question you like this and make you feel as childish as he was.

When he doesn’t say anything else you stomp back into the living room, snatching up your phone from its forgotten spot against the couch. “I’m going to bed.”

At that Jungkook seems to kickstart back to life. “What? ___, it’s barely six,” he says as he follows after you into your bedroom. You ignore him, shuffling beneath the covers. In all actuality, you’re going to bed to mope and watch more animated family shows, maybe cry under the guise of the plot just being so sad. Jungkook sits beside you just as you click back on to finish off your episode. “Baby, I don’t get it,” he sighs. “You’re always talking about how much you want this or that, and I go out and get you it all but now you’re mad?”

You bite down on your lip, eyes lasered in on the pictures moving before you. “Jungkook, just forget it.”

“No,” he says, more sternly than he’s ever been with you before. “If there’s a problem, tell me.” There’s a heavy pause, and then he says, “don’t make me waste my time guessing what’s wrong, okay?”

“Waste your time?” you scoff, sitting up with pinched brows that you find match his. “I’m not trying to waste anyone’s time— in fact, that’s hot coming from you, Jungkook.”

He rolls his eyes. “What are you even saying? You’re mad because I took a little long getting presents, for you, might I add,” he huffs, plopping down on the edge of the mattress beside your knee. “You’re always saying you want this and that, but you can’t handle me going out to get those things? Do you hear how weird you sound?”

You whip the covers off of you. “Me talking about things doesn’t always mean I want them,” you defend.

Jungkook snorts. “Yes, it does,” he says. “Anytime you ramble about stuff for minutes like a little kid it’s because you want me to buy it for you.”

You blink. “Like a little kid?” you repeat, stunned by his comparison. Granted, you always knew you were the more childish of the two, but you never thought that would equate Jungkook thinking of you as a child. Something red and nasty flares in your chest. “Well sorry,” you spit, crossing your arms over your chest defensively, “sorry we all can’t be perfectly mature golden boys who would never see the light of day if I constantly wasn’t dragging them out.” You know it’s a somewhat low blow, especially because Jungkook’s told you before how his introverted tendencies were a sensitive issue growing up, but you can’t help it.

Jungkook groans, dropping his head into his hands. “Baby, don’t do this now,” he warns, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Stop acting like this.”

“Like how?” you spit, “like a kid?” Jungkook says nothing, leveling you with a blank stare from the corner of his eye. You roll your eyes, phone falling off your lap. Another episode of Phineas and Ferb had started, the corny opening tune filling the space between the two of you. “At least now I know what you think of me,” you mutter over the guitar riff.

“Oh my god,” Jungkook blurts, sitting up wildly. “Of course I’m gonna think of you as a stupid little kid, look at you,” he seethes, gesturing at the phone beside you. You flinch. “All you do is watch kids shows and whine whenever I wanna watch anything normal adults watch. You complain every single day about the most normal things, like your job? Why should I fucking care that you’re working a dead-end office job in a field you didn’t even study for— that’s not my problem, __!” he snaps, eyes narrowed into little slits. “I just won an award last night,” he says suddenly, voice back to its regular volume. “I’m at the height of my career and I’m only going up, but I can’t even enjoy that because I have to come home and cater to you,” he finishes, a loud scoff punctuating the final word.

You had never imagined Jungkook finally bragging about himself would be at your expense.

A beat of silence passes, the angry glint in his eyes quickly fading away the longer you don’t say anything. You sniff once, turning your head idly to the side where Phineas and Ferb is still blaring loudly from your phone speaker. Picking up the device, you throw it across the room where it hits his closet door with a terrifying bang the breaks the silence.

The sound snaps Jungkook out of whatever shock he’d been in. “Baby…” he says slowly, carefully, like you’re a caged animal that’s just escaped the zoo.

“I’m going home,” you say, also a little too calmly. You saunter over towards his closet where your shattered phone screen glares up at you as you yank a pair of sweats off a hanger. Jungkook is still frozen on the edge of the bed, watching you with wide eyes as you move about the room.

It’s when you’re in the hallway leading downstairs that Jungkook finally snaps out of his daze, scampering behind you as you descend the stairs. “Baby,” he rushes out, loudly bounding down after you, “___, wait,” he gasps, catching you by the kitchen counter collecting your keys. “I-I didn't mean that,” he rushes out, eyes wide and frantic as they flicker over your expression. “I don’t think that—I don’t, baby, please, just… let me explain, please.”

“Jungkook, let go of me,” you respond, shaking your wrist in an attempt to release yourself. He’s not even holding you tightly— he never would—but the sound of your heart pounding in your ears makes your movements jerky and erratic. “I wanna go home.”

“No,” he chokes, cornering you against the counter. “No, baby, please just listen to me, I-I—“

“You what, Jungkook?” you snap, placing a hand on his chest and forcefully pushing him away. He lets you, stepping back with a wobbly bottom lip. “You need to tell me how you’re too good for me? How much I hold you down because I wasn’t lucky enough to get a job like yours straight out of college?” He says nothing, swallowing roughly as you jab a finger into his chest. “Well let me tell you something,” you snarl, chest heaving, “I may be childish and a huge complainer, but I’m not stupid enough to let someone walk all over me like this.”

With that, you make your great escape. Truthfully, you don’t want him to see the tears in your eyes as you yank his door open, stomping down his steps and in the direction of the nearest bus stop. The door opens right after you tug it shut, painting your shadow across the sidewalk. There’s the scrambled sound of house slippers against the concrete that follows you down. “Go the fuck back inside,” you snap without missing a beat.

Sensing your obvious anger, he pauses before he can reach you. “Text me when you get home?” he calls out quietly.

“No,” you respond.

You would never admit to anyone that you spend the entire night eating a tub of mint chocolate ice cream. It’s disgusting and makes you gag, but it’s the only one you have in your apartment. And of course, it was brought over by none other than Jeon Jungkook himself a few days ago. Even when you’re trying to comfort yourself over how mean he was, on your anniversary night no less, you’re plagued by thoughts of him everywhere.

As much as you want to brush his words off, put on that cool girl exterior you’ve maintained since high school, there’s something different about this situation. You guess it’s impossible to brush off such hateful words when they come from someone you love and adore so much.

Were you too childish? You had always believed that side of you was what made your relationship with Jungkook so perfect. The two of you meshed well because of your differences, like yin and yang. So how had he been able to so easily deconstruct every inch of that balance in a matter of a few seconds? Was this perfect reality all in your head this whole time?

You want to tell yourself it was just a heat of the moment outburst from Jungkook, give him the benefit of the doubt because he’s never snapped at you like this before. Of course you’ve fought a couple of times in the past year, but neither of you had ever stooped as low as you did yesterday. Furthermore, the insecure part of your brain says he obviously felt this somewhere in his heart to bring it up at all. What he had said to you wasn’t something someone could make up on the spot.

You don’t text him when you get home, partly to spite him, but mainly because you had left your phone at his place anyway. You know he tried calling you last night because the call log is synced up to your laptop. He called on and off for about thirty minutes before he probably found your phone in his room. Whatever, he can mope in his regret for all you care

—is what you wanna say, but the longer he goes without showing himself to you the more your insecurities and hurt fester. Was this it? Was this the end of what was probably the best year of your life? It’s too painful to think about, to even consider the possibility that Jungkook might have gained a new insight last night and decided, hey, maybe this is for the best after all.

You drown yourself in an ungodly amount of sugar for breakfast, your laptop blaring yet another episode of Phineas and Ferb on the dining table. Muscle memory has you making Jungkook’s favorite pancakes before you can stop yourself, and by the time you do realize, you’ve resigned yourself to the blueberry smell anyway.

There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb.

It’s not.

It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door. You open the door with a fright, jumping back when he slumps forward and almost crashes face-first into the floor. “You didn’t call,” Jungkook cries, leaning a little too much of his weight onto you when you reach out to steady him.

The thundering of your heart slows upon registering it’s him. “Kook?” you frown, nose pinched at the ungodly stench of alcohol wafting off his clothes. “Have you been drinking?” you ask even though the answer is staring you right in the face (and in the nose).

He groans, staggering deeper into your arms. You blindly push the door shut behind him, resigning yourself to this new situation while your pancakes grow cold in the other room. “Baaaby,” he slurs, letting you guide him into the living space. He’s unceremoniously dumped onto the couch, half-opened eyes gazing up at you. “Let me,” a hiccup, “explain.”

You won’t lie. There’s a very obvious sense of discomfort sitting in your chest, torn between two paths that you don’t wish to choose between. His skin is warm and flushed like he’s just walked all the way here in this morning sun. You step over to the window that faces down onto the street below. There’s no sign of his car; you would have killed him if he ever tried to drive in this state.

“Did you walk here?” you ask instead, deciding there’s no need for one singular path, not when you can walk straight down the middle, both cleaning him and grilling him at the same time.

Jungkook’s response is delayed, head lolling from side to side as you help him out of his sweater. His skin is sweaty beneath, scorching to the touch. “Uh-huh,” he groans. Jesus, you sort of assumed but him confirming it really set things into perspective.

By no means did you and Jungkook live on opposite ends of the earth. On a good day, a drive from your place to his took about ten minutes. But walking? Easily an hour. Had he walked all the way from his place, drunk on top of that?

You brush his hair away from his face, his eyes fluttering shut at your touch. His lips are pouty yet chapped, dehydrated from the sun and the alcohol he reeks of. “Sit up for me,” you instruct, scampering off to your room for chapstick and water.

“Anything for you,” Jungkook wheezes, throat probably dryer than a desert. When you return, he’s two seconds from face planting into the coffee table and breaking that pretty face of his. You catch him with a hand on his shoulder, keeping him balanced. “Tell me what to do,” he chokes out, voice hoarse.

“Just need you to drink some water,” you say, pressing a cup against his lips. He drinks it, but a drop still dribbles down his chin.

“No,” he groans, catching your wrist in his hand when you reach up to apply some chapstick on him. “Tell me what to do,” he stresses, “to fix this. Fix us.”

His words make you pause, the tube of chapstick hovering over his plush lips. “You don’t have to do anything,” you respond quietly, trying to finish the application so you can pull away.

Jungkook doesn’t let you go. You try to look away, but there’s something about him that looks off. Maybe it’s the raw skin under his eyes, red and swollen. Or the sad droop to those same eyes that hold you captive. Or maybe it’s the subtle tremble in his hands, the fingers that hold tightly to your wrist, not to keep you there but to ground himself. “I don’t wanna lose you,” he rasps out, shakily bringing your hand to his mouth, where he presses one airy kiss to your knuckles. “Tell me ho-how to fix this and I’ll do it,” he pleads, a vulnerable look in his eyes.

Unable to withstand the sheer amount of agony on his expression, you look away. “___, please,” he chokes out, stumbling off the couch in his drunk and desperate haze until he’s kneeling in front of you. “I can’t… I can’t,” he sniffles, tears clouding those pretty eyes you’ve come to love so much. “I don’t know who I am without you.”

You clench your jaw. “You’re Jeon Jungkook,” you murmur, slipping your hand out of his hold to run through his hair. It’s knotted and a little too greasy, two things Jungkook would usually never allow. “This year’s Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award recipient,” you remind him, trailing your thumb across his cheekbone when he turns to look up at you with those big Bambi eyes. “Sweet and shy, but you love being rowdy with your friends. You love movies and TV and organizing your shirts according to fabric type. You work harder than anyone I know and never complain. You date me, even though I’m a huge child,” you smile sadly.

“No!” he jumps, turning that frantic stare back into you. “Y-You’re not— it’s not,” he stammers, words still slurring together. “I’m a liar,” he cries, resting his forehead on your knees. His shoulders shake. “I don’t deserve you,” he weeps quietly. You place a hand on his shoulder. “Y-Y-You make my life so much better, ___, so colorful and fun. I-I wish I knew you in high school,” he admits, “maybe I wouldn’t have been so emotionally constipated now.”

“You’re not,” you reassure him softly.

He disagrees. “You bring out the best,” he hiccups, “the best in me.” Your heart skips in your chest. “I-I love you, you know that?”

You sputter, eyes wide at his sudden confession. “I… love you so much, y’know? I think about you ev-every night, ___,” he rambles, eyes dreamily gazing off into some miscellaneous spot on the wall behind you. “I can’t get you out of my head. Like you're a song, o-on repeat but it’s not annoying because it’s my favorite song, and I could listen to it for the rest of my life, y’know? My favorite song, I know all the words b-because it’s all I think about! I love... My love… I love you so much.”

“Kook,” you rush out, cheeks flaming as you try to pull him away from where he’s slumped over your legs. His passionate speech has you abuzz, body tingling everywhere until you feel overwhelmed, head spinning like you’re on a rollercoaster. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He nods sleepily, seemingly coming down from whatever alcohol induced rampage has allowed him to walk for an hour straight in this searing heat just to confess to you. “Y-You don’t have to say it back,” he continues to stutter as you guide him through the living room on wobbly legs. “I just-I just— can I?” he babbles. “Can I love you, ___?”

You pass through the kitchen space, where whatever you were watching on Disney+ is blaring loudly. It distracts Jungkook for about two seconds before his attention returns to you. When you don’t answer, he presses on. “Is that okay?” he asks, whirling around to face you, catching your shoulders in his hands. He towers over you by the entrance to your bedroom, dark curls tickling your forehead. His eyes are dark and glazed over, both in tears and an emotion so raw and unfiltered it squeezes around your chest until you can’t breathe. “Is it okay for me to love you?” he murmurs softly, knocking his nose against yours.

Your cheeks blaze. “Yes, th-that’s fine, Kook,” you blubber, placing a hand over his chest, where his heart is also hammering away. “Just need you to go rest now, okay?”

He nods sleepily, nudging your nose with his one last time, like a soft almost-kiss, before letting you push him into the room. “Yes, yes,” he breathes, his body finally crashing from his adrenaline spike. He flops down onto the bed unceremoniously, dark waves fanning across your pillows. You try to wiggle him out of his shirt, but it only gets about halfway up his chest before he blindly reaches for the covers. His legs stick out awkwardly, clad in the sweatpants you’ve come to associate with him.

When he’s all swaddled up in your blanket he finally goes limp, tiny snores leaving his lips as he dozes away from reality. You sigh, pressing a palm to his forehead. He’s still warm and clammy, but at this point, there’s nothing you can do but wait for him to sober up.

With a final kiss to his forehead, you leave the room, closing the door behind you before sliding against the wooden surface. There’s a trapped bird in your chest, wildly flapping its wings in an effort to get out, and it’s all stupid Jungkook’s fault in the next room. Stupid Jungkook who demolished and remodeled your heart all in less than twenty-four hours. It doesn’t calm down, even when you rush off into the kitchen for a glass of water, or when you try to immerse yourself in some other show on Disney+. It stays beating against your ribs and your chest until you’re forcing yourself to sit down on the couch and process.

He wakes up a little before dinner. You hear him from the living room, where you’re flicking through the options on Disney+ for the nth time that day. You’ve seen the first fifteen minutes of about twenty different series and movies by now, always growing antsy and abandoning them early on. The only reason you know he’s awake is because the shower turns on for a few minutes, and then his bare feet are heard padding across the hallway back into your room.

By the time he resurfaces in the living room, you’ve resigned yourself to just more Phineas and Ferb, nonchalantly watching the silly cartoon. (Except you’re anything but nonchalant, and your heartbeat rings in your ears.)

Jungkook hovers by the door, clad in a pair of shorts he’s left here before, and a t-shirt you stole from him. “Hey,” he says quietly, lingering by the doorframe. You nod back in response. “Can I watch with you?” Again, another nod.

Slinking over to the couch, he’s rather careful as he sits down, leaving a few inches of space between the two of you. You don’t even think he can see the screen of your laptop until he murmurs, “he’s my favorite character,” when Perry the Platypus appears on the screen.

You hum. “Thought you didn’t like these kids shows?” you ask. You don’t mean it to sound as petty and backhanded as it comes out, but that’s really no one's fault but his own.

Jungkook’s breathing tightens beside you. “No,” he admits, “I don’t. Only watch them because I know you like them.” You contemplate pausing the episode and engaging in a real conversation with him, but at this point, you’re very tired from the events of the last day. Jungkook doesn’t press either, just shuffles more comfortably beside you.

You get about five minutes in, quiet chuckles shared between the two of you, before he strikes. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says, so hushed you almost don’t hear it. His hand is resting in the space between you, pinky brushing against yours. “About… being late. And the presents.”

You inspire slowly. “That wasn't even the problem, silly,” you brush off. From your peripheral, you see Jungkook’s slow nod. “I didn’t want any presents,” you mention, “I just wanted you.” You look away from the screen immediately after, pretending like the spot on the ceiling is actually really interesting.

The two of you fall into silence, the animated characters on your screen rapidly chattering away. “Oh,” Jungkook says after a moment.

You roll your eyes. They’re moist but you don’t want him to see. “Yeah, oh,” you parrot back softly, relaxing into the couch again. “Did you eat the food I left out?”

Jungkook shuffles beside you, the soft lull of the speakers soon being cut as he reaches over to pause Phineas and Ferb. A couple of seconds pass and then he’s leaning into you, head resting on your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, placing a palm over the hand he had been teasing for the past few minutes. “I thought I knew what I was doing but I was wrong.”

His voice is so soft and sincere, it makes your chest ache. You try to burrow your face against your opposite shoulder, try to hide the stray tear that escapes out of the corner of your eye. “It’s fine,” you brush off, voice choked off and hoarse.

Jungkook leans up, pecks your cheek so tenderly it makes you go mushy. “No, it’s not fine. I acted like a know-it-all and said something way out of line,” he murmurs, raising his head to look at you. His hand feels warm over yours. It’s the touch you craved all day and yesterday, the warm feel of his body against yours. You’re embarrassed at how easily you melt into it. “You’re the best thing that has happened to me in a long time,” he tells you, holding your hand close to his chest. “I had no right to say those things to you.”

You sniffle, resting your head against his shoulder now. His heart beats loud enough for you to hear. “Was it true?” you mumble. “Do you really think of me like that?”

He shakes his head, his soft breaths fanning across your forehead. “No, never,” he answers. “I think you’re incredible. My brain was just trying to justify my dumb anger.”

You nod, even if you don’t believe it just yet. But that was a conversation for later, you suppose, sometime in the future when you aren’t on the verge of tears and threatening to crumble apart at the simplest word that leaves his mouth.

“I should have come home like you wanted, thought about my words before saying them,” he says, snuggling closer to you. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop,” you sniffle, covering your face with your free hand as he presses a kiss to the vein that runs over the back of the hand he’s holding captive. “Now it just sounds like I'm just being inconsiderate of your gifts and a crybaby.”

Jungkook kisses your temple softly, gently. “Don’t think about the gifts,” he says. “Just tell me what you wanted to do, doll.”

His voice calms you, has you like putty in his arms. “Watch movies,” you mumble, toying with a thread on your couch cushion. “Be with you.”

He hums. “Then we’ll do that,” he says, reaching for your laptop again. The screen nearly blinds you when it flickers back to life before you, Jungkook’s low breaths against your ear making it near impossible for you to process the titles on the screen. “You liked Disney+?”

Belatedly, you nod. “I like the animated movies,” you admit quietly, the anxieties of before slowly melting away, even more so when he slides his arm around you, pulling you close against his chest.

Unlike other times where he’ll critique the hell out of such childish films, Jungkook says nothing as he starts up the Zootopia movie instead, the same one you had wanted to show him before, right from the beginning. “That bunny looks like you,” you murmur when Judy Hopps first appears on the screen.

Jungkook snorts. “You say that about every cartoon bunny.”

You turn your head to glance at him over your shoulder. He meets your gaze with a small smile you return. “It’s because you’re so cute,” you say softly, lips twisting playfully when his cheeks grow scarlet.

He knocks his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut. “Not cute, just lucky,” he chuckles. “Lucky enough to have you.” Your heart turns over in your chest, threatening to burst out of your rib cage at his words. You try to turn in his arms. Before you can say the words that have been sitting on the tip of your tongue for months now, he’s beating you to it once again. “I love you,” he confesses in a hushed whisper, no alcoholic influence.

Something inside of you blossoms, eyes wide as he chastely kisses you. He pulls away without you ever reacting, too caught up in surprise to kiss him back properly. He stays close, curls tickling your forehead as he leans over you. “You don’t have to say it back, I just wanted you to know. I love you,” he says again, long lashes blinking down at you. “So much. It makes me feel like a stupid teenager again, going to the mall to buy a gift for my crush.” He laughs sheepishly, reaching down to tangle your fingers together. “Is that okay?” he asks quietly, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

It mirrors the confession he’d given you that morning, those slurred words and teary eyes. It had been difficult to pinpoint the legitimacy of it before, the meaning scrambled by his hazy mind. But with him staring at you like this now, like you single-handedly plucked the stars from the sky to put them in those sparkly eyes of his, it makes something inside you ache.

Still, you choke on your own spit. “I-Is it okay for you to love me?” you sputter incredulously, realizing the oddity of the same question he’d thrown at you earlier. But now, you’re both sober and you can really tear apart that sentence. Jungkook nods a little too seriously for your liking. “Are you crazy?” He blinks in confusion, brows pulling together as you slowly but surely lose the last bits of your sanity. “You’re an idiot, Jeon Jungkook,” you huff, “a stupidly handsome, rich, walking dream, idiot who goes out with stupid girls like me.”

“Not stupid,” he murmurs, closing in on you again as he finally understands the truth behind your masked insults. He smells minty and like his favorite body wash of yours.

“No,” you deny. “You’re actually, like, insane. You have a bachelor pad, make enough money to sustain an entire litter of kittens, look and talk like every teenage girl’s dream boyfriend— but you mess it all up by dating evil, conniving hoes like me who lose their shit over Disney cartoons.” He says nothing, watching you with an amused grin as you talk over yourself, basically regurgitating his statement from yesterday except it kinda seems plausible now that you’re over it. “It’s stupid. No, you’re stupid. No— I’m stupid.”

Jungkook chuckles, kissing the corner of your mouth gently. “Done?” he says, a dimple appearing on his cheek. You could kiss it away, but you need him to know the amount of stupidity in this room was astronomically high. “You’re not stupid, baby,” he says. You level him with a look. “Well. You have your moments.”

“Moments?” you repeat, standing up in a hurry that has him flopping down beside you. Your laptop is lost somewhere on the cushions, the voices faded as they grow farther away. “I am so stupid. I called Namjoon a whore for taking you out for lunch!” you cry. “I am the stupidest person in the world.”

Jungkook cackles, standing up beside you. “Yes, yes, you’re my stupid girl,” he teases, tapping the pout on your lips playfully. “So stupid she slanders herself instead of just telling me she loves me too.” He bumps your noses together, dark eyes staring at you almost daringly after his claim.

You fold soon enough. “I love you,” you mumble, “even if I’m too stupid to say it.”

He rewards your confession with a kiss, pulling you into his arms soon after. He sighs, almost wistfully. “Whatever shall I do with my very stupid girl?”

After exactly three minutes of feeling safe and loved in his arms, he abandons the living room in favor of leading you back to your room, where he pushes you down against your mattress. You cling to him, leaving him positioned over you at an angle. His chest presses against yours, arm curled around the back of your head. “Gotta get up, baby,” he laughs.

You shake your head, caging him in your arms. “Nuh-uh,” you murmur, legs wiggling when he places a hand on your hip.

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss against the side of your ear. “Your movie is still playing in the other room,” he reminds you, thumb drawing soothing circles on your hip. You don’t release him, his mindless touch only encouraging you to keep him close. “Babe?”

You say nothing, relishing in the comfort of Jungkook’s presence. His hair smells good and feels even softer against the side of your face. The cotton shirt he found is crumpled beneath your fists, dark blue pattern wrinkling. Finally coming to terms with his new home, Jungkook eventually relaxes into your hold with a sigh.

“Alright,” he hums, patting your hip as he repositions himself more comfortably. “I get it. My pretty girl must’ve missed me, huh?” You nod, soaking in every detail about him in this moment. Jungkook shifts, the hand on your hip suddenly falling over your thigh instead. “Or should I say my stupid girl?” he purrs, hand slipping between your thighs. “My stupid, little girl?”

A gasp catches in your throat when he runs his fingers over the front of your panties. Your legs kick out wildly at the sudden touch, toes curling at the hands you dreamt about all day and night. “Oh,” you pant, each brush of his fingers feeling better than the last.

“What?” he says, mouthing against the side of your neck. His tongue feels warm, but the trails of saliva he leaves have you shivering. “Too dumb to speak?” he scoffs, biting down against a particular spot on your neck. You whimper, unsure if it’s because of his hands or his mouth.

“N-No,” you try to sneer back, fingernails digging into his skin through his shirt. His hands are getting braver now, the pad of his pointer finger dancing over your engorged clit. The sheer material of your panties certainly doesn’t help, each touch feeling like it’s being magnified three times over. And if it felt this good with underwear, you can’t even begin to imagine how it’d feel without.

You don’t have to ponder for long, because soon after Jungkook is slipping his hand beneath your waistband, touching your sensitive pussy head-on. “Kook.”

He uses your momentary vulnerability to ease himself from your hold, finally recoiling enough to smother your mouth with his. You moan in surprise, thighs quivering as he gets to work circling your hardened bud sans your panties. Jungkook isn’t the least bit kind as he kisses you ruthlessly, likes he’s trying to compensate for something with his movements. When he finally pulls away it’s with an obnoxious pop and cherry red lips. He huffs, glancing down to see where he’s got his fingers pleasuring you.

Your thighs are squirming back and forth, closing around his hand every few seconds. Jungkook snorts. “Huh, look at that,” he mutters, trailing down until his fingers are gliding over your quickly sopping folds. “Stupid girl is good for something.”

Your cheeks burn. “Kook, I’m not—“

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed glare. “Not what? Not stupid? But I could’ve sworn you just spent the last few minutes saying you were,” he drones meanly, landing one light slap against your cunt that makes your hips buck.

You bite down a whimper. “I was just…” you trail off, eyes rolling back when he teases one finger against your opening.

“Kidding?” he supplies. “Well, I wasn’t.” Your heart stutters in your chest, eyes growing wide as he finally pushes himself off of you, propping himself up with an elbow beside your head. His gaze is dark and unrecognizable. “I think you’re so fucking stupid, doll,” he sneers. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

You should have seen this moment coming, the manifestation of that shiny side of the coin finally reaching its full potential.

While Jungkook wasn’t exactly shy about his interests, he certainly wasn’t tripping over himself to tell you every new kinky thing he wanted to try. You sort of guessed he had some interest in this sort of play a few weeks ago when you watched the Barbie movie at his place. A lot of that night had branded itself into your three am wet dreams, but there was one particular moment that stood out to you. That was you, on your knees, with him condescendingly patting your head. Or just last week, you vaguely remember the term slipping through his lips as he pleasured you with The Bullet Bestie.

The thing about Jungkook was that, until last night, he would have never admitted, or so much as even thought, that he was better than you. That was fine because you would say it enough for the both of you anyway. Did you think Jungkook was amazing, an absolute diamond among these measly rocks? Absolutely. (Were you slightly biased because you were his girlfriend? Skip.) However, you also had this insane evil villain complex that made you want to brag about everything you possibly could, especially if that meant bragging about your boyfriend.

Realistically speaking, he was better than you, that much you could look past yesterday’s anger to admit, and not even in a stuck-up, conceited way; he had a really good job, an architecturally amazing house, and a hot girlfriend. Meanwhile, you had a mediocre job, an okay apartment, and an insanely sexy Calvin Klein boyfriend, half of which he had pointed out yesterday. Regardless of how powerful that third factor was, he still outnumbered you three to one.

Sue you, Jungkook was amazing. Anyone could see that! Except, maybe, himself.

And if the only time Jungkook would openly brag about his greatness or establish how much better than you he was, was in a post-fight, sex-induced setting, then you were more than happy to be his punching bag. So long as it was on your terms, and not as a result of his weirdly bottled up feelings.

(Yeah, you would have a long talk about that tomorrow.)

But for now, you pout up at him, clamping your thighs shut purposefully. “You’re stupid too,” you defend, “stupid and mean.”

Something in his expression changes. Suddenly, he’s moving at superhuman speed as he snatches his hand out from where you had previously trapped him between your legs, yanking you up by the front of your shirt. “Mean?” he mocks. “Isn’t that what you always wanted?” You shiver, fingers wrapping around the wrist that holds your sweater. “Wanted me to be mean and push you around like a little rag doll?”

Jungkook looks at you for another two seconds, before he’s slowly pulling away from you, leaning back on his knees. His tongue is pressing against the inside of his cheek, jaw tightening from the movement. “Baby,” he says so quietly it instills a prickle of fear in you, tainted with delicious excitement.

“Yeah?” you whisper, sitting up tentatively as you watch him, He was a bit frightening, like a wild animal about to devour you whole.

Jungkook rolls his neck, the joints in his spine cracking as he begins tugging off his shirt. You salivate at the sight, too focused on the sinewy muscles of his body to catch the dark gaze he levels your way. He throws it off to the side, his sleeve of tattoos that wraps around his bicep and begins to crawl down his chest wonderfully unobstructed now. “Eyes up here,” he says and you quickly meet his gaze. He leans forward, muscled arms coming to cage you against the headboard. “Stupid little sluts don’t have the room to make such comments,” he rasps out, unamused expression adorning his normally soft features. “Don’t you think so?”

“I-I don’t know,” you stammer, leaning away as he comes closer and closer, eventually just turning your head to the side to avoid that emotionless look. It’s the wrong move, and Jungkook lets you know as much by forcefully digging his fingers into your cheeks and turning your face back around to meet his gaze.

A hand grabs beneath your knee, tugging harshly until you’re flopping down onto your back with a squeal. You settle with his knee pressed hotly against your core. Jungkook stays towering over you. “Dumb little girls who make me watch cartoons,” he spits, tracing a hand over your chest, molding your breasts beneath his hands roughly enough to make you gasp. “And watch little animal movies on Disney+. Aren’t they just so stupid?”

“So stupid,” you concede, subtly shifting your hips for some desperately needed friction. Jungkook snorts, finally granting you your wish with one rough slide of his thigh against your core.

“I agree,” he says, and surprises you with a hand around your throat as he leans in to properly grind his thigh into you. “All they’re good for is being dumb little sluts with good pussy,” he murmurs darkly, thumb pressing into the side of your neck forcefully. “Sometimes, they don’t even do anything,” Jungkook continues, his other hand on your hip hauling you higher up his thigh. You mewl, soaked panties rubbing roughly against your folds. You miss the soft swirl of his thumb, the gentle prod of his fingers. Even so, you can’t deny this change in Jungkook is doing something to you, riling up a part of you that you hadn’t known existed. Maybe it’s the horniness from yesterday that was left unfulfilled, the one year anniversary sex that was put on pause. “Just lay there and take it, too fucked out and dumb to say anything.”

His fingers loosen for the briefest of seconds and you gasp for breath. “That’s terrible,” you whimper, rolling your hips up into his thigh, so close to his swollen cock.

Jungkook chuckles without an ounce of humor, pressing your foreheads together as he helps grind you to completion. “Isn’t it? I think that stupid little girl is cute though.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt, vision spotting as he tightens his hand back around your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you moan, stomach tight from all the stimulation.

Jungkook hums, slowing you down with a tight grip on your waist. “Hm, what are you sorry for?” he croons, pink lips pulling into an evil smile. “You said you weren’t that stupid girl, __.”

You shake your head, trying to roll your hips up again but he’s holding you too tightly now, rendering you immobile beneath him. “I am,” you choke out shamefully, grabbing at the hand on your hip in a feeble attempt to remove it. “I am a stupid little girl.”

Jungkook smirks, leaning down to slot his mouth over yours. “That’s right,” he murmurs, “nothing but a dumb little slut.”

You shiver, opening your mouth when he slides his tongue against your bottom lip. He’s not the slightest bit nice, and more messy than usual. He pulls away with a bite to your lower lip, meeting your trembling gaze with that same unrecognizable glint in his eyes. “Come on, dummy, keep up,” he snarks before devouring you again. You try to, you really do, but he’s moving like an animal today, despite his slow and drunken movements from that morning. So you end up with his saliva dripping down your throat, clinging to the corners of your lips as he begins slowly grinding you against his thigh again. He flashes you a wicked smile, pearly teeth on display for you as he glances down at your messy appearance.

“Are you gonna touch me?” you ask, lower lip trembling at the thought after your desperate rutting. Jungkook purses his lips together in thought.

“Mmm,” he hums. “Don’t know yet.”

You whine. “Jungkook, please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I need you.”

Jungkook chuckles, running his hand up your waist and taking your shirt with him. He slips his fingers beneath your bra, pushing the wire over your chest as he mouths at your neck. “Cute,” he says. “Can’t do it yourself?”

You tremble, chest arching into him as he rolls your nipple between his fingers. “I-I can,” you gasp. “Just feels better with you.”

Jungkook follows your statement with a nip against your skin, tongue soothing over it right after. “Why? Because I do everything better than you? Even make you cum better than you?”

Your cheeks heat up at his blatant ego rearing its head, hands carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. You say nothing, and that only eggs Jungkook on. “Come onnn,” he teases, finally, finally rolling his hips down onto your core. You squeak, head falling back against the pillows as you’re granted the one thing you’d been chasing. “Say it.”

“Say what?” you ask, voice wobbly as he continues to slowly rut against you, the front of his shorts pressing against the soaked crotch area of your panties. “Oh, oh, Jungkook,” you whine.

Suddenly he bites down harshly, teeth digging painfully into your skin. You yelp in surprise, pussy throbbing at the pain that shoots throughout your body. Jungkook pulls away and doesn’t bother soothing over it as he leans up to capture your jaw this time. “Say you’re a stupid little slut who can’t do anything without me,” he purrs, kisses too soft for the words he says.

Your mind blanks, torn between the humiliating phrase he wants you to say and properly checking him in his place. In the end, it’s with a twisted need to please him that you’re repeating the words back to him. “I-I’m a stupid slut,” you whimper, fingers digging into his shoulder blades as he continues pushing you right along the edge. The rope pulled tightly in your core is slowly being pulled apart, threads hanging on for dear life. “Can’t... can't do anything without...”

“Without who?” he asks, reaching down and untying the front of his shorts. “Can’t do anything without who, baby?”

“Without you, without you,” you cry, bucking your hips up against his, the combined movements of both your bodies making you shake like a leaf. “Ah, K-Kook,” you wail, hips stuttering as your orgasm finally swallows you up. Your panties quickly grow wet and icky from your own arousal that pools between your thighs. Jungkook lets you writhe beneath him as you chase your high, mouth sucking a pretty blossom against your jaw.

You know better than to expect the night to end here, especially after seeing the glint that had been in his eyes as he watched you unravel.

He leans close, let’s his nose brush against yours as you catch your breath. “So perfect for me,” he groans, slotting his lips against yours. You can barely keep up with him, languidly going along with his hot tongue. “Perfect, perfect girl,” he murmurs, a stark change from the less than friendly adjectives he used just moments before. “Tell me you love me?” he says softly.

You nod, mind fuzzy as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Love you,” you exhale, letting your fingers knot in his hair. Your proclamation does something to him, makes him grind the front of his cotton shorts hard against you. For someone that was often rough and brutal with you in bed, he sure was sensitive to the mushiest of things.

“Don’t deserve you,” he huffs, hot breath fanning across your skin. He switches gears fairly quickly. “Tell me you hate me,” he begs hoarsely, rutting against your soiled panties. “Tell me I’m a piece of shit and you could do better without me,” he pleads, voice too airy to be another one of his usual sex-induced thoughts.

You shake your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he rolls his hips. “It’s not true,” you whisper, “I love you more than you’ll ever understand.”

Jungkook groans, suddenly winding back and tearing your ruined panties down your legs. You gasp in surprise, letting him haul you about in his blind, self-inflicted rage. “Stupid, stupid,” he huffs, though at this point you can’t tell who it’s directed at. With your underwear out of the way, he wastes no time plunging his fingers back into your cunt, bypassing the tight ring of muscle around it without any of his usual care. “You should hate me,” he snarls, lips pressed against your ear.

You moan, back arching at the sudden pleasure that blossoms between your thighs. “I-I don’t,” you gasp, toes curling.

Jungkook groans, the sound traveling down your spine and straight into your pussy. “Stupid girl,” he huffs, slipping an arm around you to pull you so close until you can’t breathe, chests lined up together. His skin is warm to the touch, scorching almost. “Fuck,” he groans, curling his fingers inside of you. You whimper and moan, incapable of staying still beneath him as he tortures you with a thumb to your clit. “Tell me you hate me,” he seethes again.

Despite the fog that’s settled over your mind, you still manage a resolute shake of your head. “N-no,” you cry, digging your nails into his back. They run dark red lines over his skin, making him hiss at the sting.

Whatever punishment he’s trying to put himself through is falling through with your refusal to admit such a thing. It aggravates him even more, your adamant stance on loving him so, and he’s retracting his fingers before you can cum again. “Please,” he chokes, face tucked into your neck. He’s sloppy with his movements; as he pulls his shorts down and kicks them away, he nearly suffocates you with his weight. “I don’t deserve you, ___, please.”

“I love you,” you whimper for lack of explanation. Jungkook leans back, that same madman gaze in his glossy eyes. He’s looking at you in disbelief almost, pouty lips puckered and swollen. Your hands slip from around him, falling on either side of your head.

Like a cobra he strikes, collecting your wrists in one hand he pins above your head. The sudden movement has him leaning in close, lips brushing over yours. His lashes are coated in a wetness he refuses to acknowledge, looking at you like you drive him insane. “If you ever try to leave me,” he whispers, jerky breath fanning over your skin, “I’ll lose my mind.”

He loves you so much it aches.

“I won’t,” you whimper, feeling your own eyes well up with an emotion that consumes every inch of your being. “I’ll never leave you, you stupid, stupid boy.”

A faint smile crosses his features at your words, lips quirking to the side. You relish in it for all of two seconds before he’s ramming his cock into you, your sensitive walls spawning around him. You sob loudly, eyes rolling back into your head. Your legs instinctively hook themselves around his waist, digging into the base of his spine as he rolls his hips into you.

You feel full and complete like he belongs there in this moment and every moment after this. It makes your heart constrict painfully. Jungkook’s soft groans follow your more unraveled noises, the vulgar slapping of skin on skin the underlying melody to it all. “Ffffuck,” he spits, greedily swallowing your moans up. You whine, arms bucking in an effort to hold him close. But he’s determined in his act of restraining you, long fingers tightening around your wrists until they hurt. “I warned you, didn’t I?” he huffs, snapping his hips into you.

Your walls clench around his hard cock, the drag as he exits sending shivers throughout your body. Jungkook’s body towers over you, glistening in sweat as he nails you into your mattress. “Remember what I said?” he asks, voice but a shuddery exhale. You shake your head numbly, overwhelmed by the rough drag across your walls. “All those months ago, when you first came over,” he adds. The hand on your hip abandons its post to cup you beneath the jaw, palm pressing sinfully against your throat enough to block the tiniest of airflow. “I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he murmurs, voice deeper than the pits of hell. He licks a fat stripe over your cheek like you’re nothing but a sweet for him to devour. “Do you remember that, pretty girl?”

You nod jerkily, hips arching up into him when he thrusts into you again. It’s a memory that replays in your mind every so often, your first night with the man you had planned to humiliate over a mere misunderstanding, now your boyfriend of one year. “Want that,” you gasp, tears blurring your vision when he begins picking up the pace. “Wanna be y-your pretty girl forever.”

Jungkook groans, kissing the corner of your mouth. His thighs are some magnificent beings, keeping his pace consistent even as he loses himself in his overwhelming need to kiss you. “Always,” he manages, soft lips pressed against yours. “I won’t ever let you leave.”

A shriek tears itself from your lips as he picks up that harsh piston, releasing your jaw to hold both wrists above your head. It makes his curls dangle in front of his eyes, covering that beautiful dark gaze. It makes his thin little necklace swing back and forth too, though it’s too small to actually touch your face. The rhythmic swing has you hypnotized, just like everything else about Jungkook.

With the length of his hair, you’re left staring at his lips, pulled taut between his pearly white teeth. The word from before sits heavy in your chest, begs to drip from the tip of your tongue. But he’s moving too fast and too hard, scrambling your thoughts until all you can think about is the cock plunging into your heat. His name falls from your mouth like mindless blubber instead, arms thrashing as your second orgasm swallows you up. It sends you crashing, body spasming as the sheer euphoria waves over you slowly and then all at once.

“Perfect,” he grunts, leaning down to slot his mouth against yours, “my perfect girl.” Your cum makes the sound of his hips erotic, the loud squelching following your panting. Still sensitive from your high, your body unconsciously tightens around him, keeps his cock from fully leaving. It brings a soft whine out of Jungkook, one he tries to muffle against the side of your face.

“Inside,” you whimper, even though your body feels like jelly beneath him. “Cum inside, Kook, please,” you beg.

It only takes a few more thrusts into your leaking hole for him to finally reach paradise, hips stuttering when that first shot of pleasure hits him. “Fuck, fuck,” he growls, wildly snapping his hips into your achy cunt. You moan, feeling just about brainless at the overstimulation. His cum leaves you full, almost makes your belly bulge from it. When he’s done he doesn’t bother pulling away, simply slumping into your limp form. His cock, though quickly softening, serves as a plug for the cum threatening to spill out of you.

There’s a muted noise coming from the other room, the faint sound of the mail slipping through your letterbox, the quiet chattering of the street outside. And of course, the loud blaring of your laptop playing the Phineas and Ferb theme song. Jungkook registers it at about the same time as you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.

He pushes off of you soon after, leaning on his palms over you. He’s got that molten look on his eyes, the heat of a thousand suns burning behind those irises as he looks at you. Like he can’t get enough, even though he’s just about taken everything there is to take. “Love you,” he murmurs quietly.

A drop of sweat rolls over his forehead, clinging to the end of his eyebrow. You reach up and brush it away, let your hand trail down his face to cup his cheek. Immediately he leans into the touch, eyes falling half shut. “Love you more,” you respond.

“Impossible,” he scoffs.

Soon after you’re both stumbling out of bed, clothes haphazardly shrugged back on as you drift through the living room. There’s a thin, hot pink package sitting at the door, just having slipped through the letterbox; the stark Sexuality Unleashed logo is printed on the visible side, so you have to wonder what Doyeon could have possibly ordered this time that could be so thin. The laptop is awkwardly sandwiched next to a throw pillow, barely open a crack. Jungkook retrieves it, sets it on his lap as you scamper over to the couch.

“More Phineas and Ferb?” he asks quietly. He hates it, you know he does. And still, he wants to watch it with you.

You nod. “Please.”

He isn’t so concerned with the plot as you, clicking some random episode to start. You snuggle into his side, quietly singing along to the opening. After a moment, Jungkook speaks again. “Phineas and Flirt?” he offers cheekily.

You roll your eyes. “That might’ve been your worst one yet,” you sigh, trying to drown out his indignant huff by focusing on the screen.

“I don’t exactly see you coming up with these,” he points out, obviously feeling wronged.

Without missing a beat you say, “Disney+ and bust.”

epilogue

commercial break one ; the resolution

#goldenclosetnet #networkbangtan #bangtanhq #ksmutclub #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jeongguk smut #jjk smut #jeongguk smut #bts smut #jjk♡#jeon jungkook #mine

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kiingocreative · 3 years

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The Structure of Story is now available! Check it out on Amazon, via the link in our bio, or at https://kiingo.co/book

A story must constantly keep the audience engaged through dramatic tools. Nowhere is this more important than at the start of a story. It's here that the audience's interest in the story and trust in the storyteller is lowest. This is why the beginning of a story must hook the audience. It must capture and *keep* their attention.

The hook's job is simple: get the audience wanting to find out what will happen next.

Broadly speaking, we can hook the audience using any one of our dramatic tools, including dramatic tension, dramatic irony, promises, and mystery. The key is to raise a question to which the audience wants to know the answer.

Hooking with Dramatic Tension

Recall that dramatic tension arises when there's a question about whether a character will accomplish their goal. The elements of dramatic tension include a goal, opposition to that goal (i.e. an opponent or antagonistic force), something of value that will be lost if the goal fails, a plan to accomplish the goal, and a reason the goal must be accomplished sooner rather than later (i.e. urgency).

To use this technique as the hook of a story, give your character a clear, measurable goal that they're *already* in the act of pursuing at the start of the story. In other words, start the story with a character carrying out a plan. The question raised: "Will the character be successful?"

We see this in the opening of The Raiders of the Lost Ark. Indiana Jones is searching for an idol. His life is on the line as the dungeon's traps are triggered.

Hooking with Dramatic Irony

Dramatic irony occurs when the audience knows something that one or more characters doesn't. The simplest way to use this technique is typically to give a character a secret.

Consider a situation where the protagonist is doing something illegal, forbidden, frowned-upon, or taboo. They appear to be getting away with it. This creates dramatic irony and we wonder if or when the other characters in the scene or story world will find out about the illicit activity.

We could, for instance, show a character who's present at a situation where they're clearly not meant to be. A character might be eavesdropping from the backseat of a car, for instance.

A character could be obviously deceiving another. We could see them leave their suburban home, kiss their family goodbye, say they're headed off to work at the office, then after they're in their car we see them switch into tactical gear. This creates dramatic irony and keeps the audience interested.

A question is raised about when a character's secret will be revealed.

Hooking with Promises

A "promise" is a contract with the audience (whether implicit or explicit) that something of relative significance will happen in the future.

This technique allows us to promise the audience that if they stick around they'll see something worthwhile.

One way to accomplish this is to have a character promise conflict right off the bat. They might say, "For the things I'm about to do, forgive me…" We could also have a character issue a command for violence or deception. "Bring them to me." We could also start with an omen or prophecy about future manipulation, deception, or violence.

Another technique is to make use of telegraphing. Start with a moment in the story's future. This is typically done in order to tantalize the audience with a moment of intense dramatic tension when the start of the story may not naturally have such tension or suspense. We see this in the opening of Breaking Bad and The Queen's Gambit.

Finally we may open with a promise of the story's genre. If the story is one of adventure then start with the warrior, power, strategy, tactics, etc. If the story is one of romance then open with wooing, swooning, playful, banter, etc. Begin with the elements of the genre that will most satisfy the audience's hunger.

A question is raised about when this moment in the future will come to pass.

Hooking with Mystery

A mystery arises when desired information is missing. In the context of hooking the audience at the start of a story, we want to start with some sort of puzzle.

One technique is to start with "unstated desire". In other words, show a character in the middle of carrying out a plan but don't let the audience know what the goal is. A character might be in the middle of carrying out a con job, for instance, but the audience shouldn't yet know who the target is, what the prize is, or what the plan is. Just show the plan as it plays out.

Another technique is to start with partial, obscured, or clouded information. We might show one side of a phone conversation. We might see an obscured character such as in the opening of Hitchcock's Notorious or in the opening of The Godfather.

And finally one of the best ways to start with mystery is to open a story "in media res" (i.e. in the middle of things). Start with action and let the audience figure out what's going on.

Mystery naturally creates questions in the audience's mind.

Make sure your story has a strong hook. Make sure it's capturing and keeping the audience's attention.

#writingtips #creative writing #screenwriting #writers on tumblr #writers #writing #writerblr #writing advice #writing community #writing resources

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suituuup · 3 years

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crushing it

A day in the life of Bechloe with triplets and a seven-year-old. For the lovely @snowonebutyou as a birthday gift <3

rated: G

word cout: 1,600

ao3 link

Mornings in the Beale-Mitchell household are often chaotic.

(who is Beca kidding. Always. Always chaotic.)

When Abigail turned three, Chloe and Beca decided they wanted to have another baby.

To their utter shock, it wasn’t one heartbeat that showed up on the ultrasound, but three.

Three babies. Triplets.

Following a few hours of panic (mostly on Beca’s end, because she would be the one birthing them), Chloe reminded Beca that they were the best team, and that they would, in Amy’s words, crush it.

Fast forward four and a half years, Beca does believe they’re crushing it, even if it’s hectic from waking-up to drop-off and from pick-up to bedtime.

Honestly, though? Beca wouldn’t change it for the world.

“Mama, I’m lost!”

Beca glances over her shoulder to find Jacob struggling to put on her sweater as his head is stuck in the sleeve.

She chuckles, abandoning Jamie for a second to crawl on all-fours over to her other son. “Hold on, baby.” She pulls on the sleeve and twists the sweater, Jacob’s head popping through in the right hole this time. “There you are. Now put your pants on, quick! We don’t wanna be late for school.”

“Mamaaaaa!” Eleanor, the youngest of the tribe and by far the most mischievous one, zooms into the room from the bathroom. “My teeth are all brushed!”

Beca manages to bite back the f-word when she realizes Ellie also smeared toothpaste all over her top. She doesn’t want to stomp on her daughter’s pride by scolding her for being messy when she accomplished a task all by herself, and takes a deep, centering breath.

“Good job. We might wanna change your top, though.” She pushes to her feet, rummaging through the dresser top drawer for something clean. “Here you go.”

“That’s Jamie’s!” Eleanor cries, pouting. “It’s got a dinosaur on it, Mama!”

“Yeah well lucky you, because dinosaurs are really cool.”

That seems acceptable for Ellie, who accepts to switch without further argument.

“Alright, let’s brush our teeths boys and go downstairs!”

While one of them gets the triplets ready for school, the other puts their lunch boxes together and cleans up breakfast.

“All good?” Chloe asks when they round the corner to the kitchen a few minutes later.

Beca huffs, making a bee-line for the counter to take a much-needed sip from her coffee. Great, it’s cold. She grimaces and sets the mug down. “Ugh.”

“I poured fresh one in your travel mug,” Chloe lets her know with a soft wink as she gives each triplet their backpack containing their lunches.

Beca groans, snagging it. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.” Chloe pecks Beca’s lips before calling upstairs, “Abigail, time to go!”

“Alright monsters, shoes.” Beca ushers the triplets to the entryway where their shoes are stored.

“I do it, Mama,” Jamie says, because they’ve obviously got time to practice shoe lacing this morning.

Summoning the patience she definitely didn’t have before becoming a mom, Beca smiles, observing. She’s gotta admit, Jamie sticking his tongue out in concentration is adorable. “Cross, loop, loop and tie. Good job!”

She high fives him, then grabs their three coats, handing them over. Their oldest appears and quickly puts her shoes on, standing on the tip of her toes to unhook her coat herself.

“Alright, let’s roll, fam!” Once Chloe’s kissed each child goodbye, they step out of the house and pile into the van (yep, they’ve got a van now) with only two minutes behind schedule.

“Mama play the song!” Eleanor requests once Beca’s pulled out of their driveway.

Their children have impeccable taste in music, much to Beca’s pride. Ellie’s been obsessed with Lizzo’s Truth Hurts lately though, which… does include a few bad words and which landed Beca and Chloe a meeting with her Kindergarten teacher after Ellie apparently belted out “Turns out I’m a hundred percent that bitch” during recess.

Later that day, Beca explained to their four-year-old daughter that the word bitch shouldn’t be said in public, even through song.

They make it to school on time, Beca pulling up in the drop off section and watching her kids step out. “See you tonight guys, love you!”

She enjoys the ten minutes of relative quiet over the drive to the office, contentedly sipping at her coffee as she hums along to the radio. After parking in her spot in front of the studio, she checks her phone to find a message from her wife. She chuckles, her cheeks warming up as she reads Chloe’s words.

My love

Didn’t have time to tell you, but you’re rocking that work suit 🥵

Beca

Oh yeah?

My love

Any chance you can stop by the clinic for lunch and… entertain me?

Beca

Jesus, woman.

I would, but today’s packed with meetings.

I’ll make it up to you once the kids are asleep 😉

My love

Fine, I guess I’ll settle for that, then. Have a good day. Love you!

Smiling to herself, Beca replies with the same sentiment.

Her work day is busy with meetings left and right and finishing up a project to meet the deadline, and Beca’s brain has turned to mush by the time she steps through the threshold of their home at the end of the day, a bit later than usual.

Jacob, the most affectionate of their four kids greets her with a much-needed hug when she rounds the living room corner. Beca closes her eyes and inhales his shampoo, his hair still slightly damp from bath time.

Bless her wife for handling the pre-dinner routine all by herself.

“Thank you baby. Mama really needed that.” She lets him go, walking over to where Ellie and Jamie are playing on the floor and kissing each forehead. “Hey munchkins.”

Abigail is coloring at the table while Chloe stirs something at the stove when Beca ventures into the kitchen next. She cards her fingers through her daughter’s red hair. “Hey baby. Whatcha drawing?”

“Flowers,” the seven-year-old replies as she reaches for a different crayon.

“Very pretty,” Beca says, bending down to kiss her head as well. She steps up to Chloe, wrapping her arms around her waist from behind. “Hey you.”

Chloe leans back against her briefly. “Hi. Busy day?”

“So busy. Thanks for handling everything by yourself, babe.” She brushes a kiss to Chloe’s cheek, squeezing her waist as she steps away. “Can I do anything to help?”

“It’s almost ready so just get the kids to wash up?”

Dinner is mostly entertained by their kids talking about the activities they did at school. Following a bit of playtime, both she and Chloe head upstairs to put them to bed. Abigail handles herself now, but she does still like for one of her moms to read her a story.

“Mama?” She asks as soon as Beca closes the book to set it back on the shelf.

“Yeah baby?”

“What’s it like to be in love?”

Beca blinks in shock, far from expecting that question from her seven-year-old. She supposes it’s better than the where do babies come from? bomb, but still.

“Um, well…” she clears her throat, shifting so that she’s facing Abigail as opposed to sitting beside her. She thinks about her wife, and tries to put how she feels in clear words. “Basically, it’s… thinking about that person all the time, and feeling safe and really happy and… at home whenever you’re around them.”

“And you wanna kiss?”

Beca purses her lips for a moment. “Um, sure. You may want to kiss them if you’re in love with them.”

Abigail seems to mull that over for a little while. “Benjamin kissed me today, does that mean he’s in love with me?”

Jesus Christ. Beca really wishes Chloe was here right now to handle this conversation.

“No, not necessarily,” she says once she’s gathered her bearings. “People kiss other people without being in love. It might just be… an attraction, like, thinking someone is pretty.”

Abigail grins. “I think he’s handsome.”

Watching her seven-year-old daughter swoon over some boy is very unsettling and something Beca was definitely not ready for for another ten years at least.

“So you wanted him to kiss you, then?” Beca asks tentatively to make sure that boy didn’t force Abigail to kiss him.

Abigail nods. “It was cool.”

Cool. Cool. Cool?!

Beca sucks in a breath, mustering a smile. “Okay, as long as you agreed to it, that’s fine. You know that if a boy or a girl wants to kiss or hug you and you don’t want to, it’s okay to say no, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” She bends down to kiss Abigail’s forehead. “Anything else before I go?”

“Nope. Night, Mama.”

“Goodnight, baby.”

She tucks the covers up to Abigail’s chin and hits the main light on her way out, her brain reeling as she heads back downstairs. She finds Chloe folding a load of laundry on the couch with the TV on low, and lowers herself beside her.

“What’s wrong?” She asks immediately, frowning at Beca’s expression.

Beca clears her throat. “Our daughter is apparently… kissing boys.”

“Which one?”

“Abigail,” Beca hisses, shocked that Chloe would think that Ellie is old enough to be kissing anyone.

Chloe simply smiles, picking up a pair of toddler jeans from the basket and folding them. “She’s seven, it’s pretty normal for her to explore those things.”

Beca squints. “How old were you?”

“About that age, I think. It was just a tiny peck.” She tosses the jeans on the folded pile and picks up another item. “My first real kiss was at thirteen.”

“Who was it?”

Chloe laughs, cocking an eyebrow. “What is this, an interrogatory?”

“No, I’m just curious, I guess.” She shrugs, grabbing a towel from the basket to fold it.

“His name was Jeremy. Too much tongue. Did not kiss him again.”

“Ew. What is it with dudes and tongue?”

Chloe giggles. “Beats me.” She eyes her wife. “Who was yours?”

“My neighbor Trevor. I was fifteen.” Beca closes her eyes and shudders exaggeratedly. “If I could erase it from my memory I would.”

“Good thing you’re married to an excellent kisser to make up for the trauma, huh?” Chloe smirks and waggles her eyebrows, pulling a chuckle from Beca.

“Dude, not to boost your ego even more or anything, but that first kiss sent me into another dimension. I just about forgot my own name.”

“Aww. You were still a useless baby gay back then. Discovering the power of women.”

“Shut up,” Beca mutters, shoving her wife as she flushes. She eyes the basket and groans. “How do we have so much laundry?”

“Four kids, babe.”

Beca sighs, then glances at Chloe, a smirk curving her lips. “Wanna leave it for tomorrow and make out?”

Chloe’s on top of her before she can register it, muffling her squeak of laughter with a heated kiss.

#bechloe #bechloe fic #beca mitchell #chloe beale

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gremlin-writes-angst · 3 years

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The Unkissable Prince : Ch 2

Chapter 1 here!!

2.9 k words

Trigger warning: Cursing(?) Kissing (non-descriptive) Insecurities, rude comments

Let me know if I missed a trigger or if you spot any spelling mistakes.

Feedback is encouraged!!!

Click here if you want to see more of my work and follow me for more!

The past few weeks the cast had been working hard to make something they could be proud of, and they were proud of what they had accomplished so far as a group, but problems arise in individuals. Most of the actors were in their last year of high school and had other problems and worries this late in the school year. Lunch was one of the only times they could relax without having to do school work or production work. It was a time of fun relaxation, laughs and for some, it was a time to make new relationships or for some to evolve.

Denki and Shinso had been working together during rehearsal almost every time the actors were given time to work on individual character work. Even though Denki was who Shinso worked with the most, Denki was always disappointed when Shinso worked with another actor. Now Shinso was a part of the theater kid group, even during lunch. Currently, most of the students in the production were having lunch together and it was only the second week that Shinso was a part of this lunch group and he had taken notice of something. For one he noticed the closeness of Tokoyami the actor playing Scully and Aoyama the french boy who played the french chef in the show, he assumed that they were together or were getting to that type of relationship. He also noticed that mina was Ursala, not that she was naturally Ursula but she constantly in character, basically method acting, and it scared most of the none theater people. What he took notice of most was how they treated Denki, for the most part, it was harmless jokes that could be taken the wrong way. What he was really unsure of was how Jiro treated him, her jokes were more insults than the others, half the time he couldn’t tell if she was even trying to joke about it. Shinsou could tell that Denki was affected by Jiro’s words, and he was too. Mostly because her insults were always about other’s feelings toward Denki. Things like

“Your so annoying, it makes people hate you.”

“It’s hard being around you when you are so stupid.”

"I still don’t how you landed the prince role when you the furthest thing from a prince .”

“It’s so hard to act like I’m in love with prince eric when you’re the one playing him.”

“I’m not surprised that you’ve never been in a relationship, I pray for your future partner.”

That last few ones were the ones that hurt Shinso because he was a part of denkis prince Eric’s portrayal. The last one also struck a chord with him because he liked Denkieven before they become friends, he was almost hopelessly in love with Denkinow that they got to spend time together. Even though Jiro’s comments hurt both Denkiand Shinsou, neither of them was able to stand up to her. All Shinsou could do was find a way to comfort Denki when they were alone.

Later in the day after school now at rehearsal, once again Shinso was hoping from person to person helping them during their individual work. Denki was running over his lines, memorizing, blocking, and figuring out how to say each word, the way prince eric would. Shinso had taught him many acting tips in the past few weeks, it made Denki feel a little dumb because he had done acting for fun since he was little and he was only learning such things in his last year of high school. Denki sat and thought of tactics, a term, and a method that Shinso taught him. Basically, each line has at least one tactic, a tactic is an action verb that is aimed at the other characters in the show. For example, he used ‘to swoon Ariel’ quite a bit, swoon being the tactic and Ariel is who it is for. All the work he was doing made him think of Shinsou, and how Shinsou wasn’t working with him right now, it made him feel alone and jealous that he didn’t have the fluffy-haired boy’s attention. The director called for clean up which indicated the end of rehearsal, and Denki still hadn’t worked with Shinsou today, it disappointed him more than it should have.

Denki

I pack up my bag and script but stay seated in the chair I was in. I know that it’s time to go but I wasn’t ready to leave, not mentally at least. I watched as my ...our stage manager talked to our director, I have no clue what their conversations about but it’s not unusual for them to talk after rehearsal. I began to space out, still staring in their direction, I’m broken from this state when I notice both men looking at me, I panic a little because when two people are talking and looking at you it means that they’re talking about you, and I can only assume that their talking shit if it’s me they’re looking at. In my slightly panicked state, I didn’t realize that Yamada has left and that Shinso has started to approach me. I try to calm myself and get ready to stand up but before I could stand up I hear the amazing smooth voice of Shinso.

“Stay seated.”

Even though his tone wasn’t demanding or scary, I summited and was scared. I watched as he sets down something and pulls out another foldable chair, across from me and my chair. I couldn’t think of what to say or question but luckily I didn’t have to because he knew the answers to the questions I hadn’t even thought of yet

“I asked Yamada if I could work with you a little more today here because we didn’t get to.”

I nodded my head and took note of how awkward he knew that we were alone together. I guess he thinks I’m stupid because he went into more detail.

“He said yes, just no funny business and to lock up and that return the keys when I get home.”

He was less awkward now, he even rolled his eyes at the no funny business part. I assume that the shiny thing he put down was the keys to the auditorium. The most confusing part was the ‘return the keys when I get home’.

"Wait you live with Yamada?”

I yelled that a little loud and was a little too excited for that, it probably made him uncomfortable to be around a loud person like me.

"Yeah, he not my dad or anything. At least not biologically, he’s my foster parent, has been for the past 3 years but he hasn’t asked if I wanted to be adopted yet so I think he waiting till I turn 18 so he doesn’t have to deal with me.”

He laughs but I don’t think it’s very funny, because I don’t think it true, and Yamada isn’t like that. I hold my breath though, no one wants to hear my thoughts anyway, so I switch the subject.

"I was working on tactics today, hear let me show you!”

We worked for the next 30 minutes on different parts of the script, until we ended up on the wedding scene, the same scene that prince eric and ariel kiss. The atmosphere became weird between us, we weren’t acting or anything, just reading the lines and talking through different ideas. But the topic of kissing filled the air with awkwardness. But we had to continue with analyzing and discovering my character.

"I’ve been having trouble portraying Eric at this moment. It’s hard to show the love he feels for Ariel.”

I admitted to Shinso that love was hard to portray which is pretty embarrassing.

"I would try and draw out, or remember an experience for this scene, like your first kiss, or date, something romantic.”

Shinso suggested, I tried to rack my brain to find a replay that doesn’t include Shinso learning that I haven’t had my first kiss yet. But that’s what enders up coming out.

"I haven’t...”

"You haven’t ...what? Kissed someone? gone on date?”

Shinso sounds very shocked by this discovery. I just nodded my head not wanting to face him.

"But you’ve rehearsed this scene before, so you’ve kissed Jiro?”

I suddenly realize that every time Jiro and I have rehearsed that scene, Shinso isn’t in his chair, and when Yamada announced we would be doing stage kisses instead, Shinso hadn’t joined the club yet. Meaning that Shinso didn’t know about the stage kisses.

“No, she was uncomfortable with that so we opted for stage kisses, so I’ve never had a first kiss, not a romantic one or a fake one from Jiro.”

“Whats a stage kiss?”

I’m shocked, my stage manager doesn’t know what a stage kiss is. He knows all these other terms for acting but he doesn’t know about a basic stage kiss. Well, now I get to be the smart one.

"Well, it’s so that actors don’t have to kiss but it tricks the audience. Basically one of the actors grabs the other’s face and kisses their thumbs.”

I was feeling pretty smug about knowing something Shinsou didn’t. Until he spoke again.

“I don’t understand. Maybe I’ll understand better if you showed me.”

I cough out a little bit in shock, yeah sure it’s a stage kiss and I wouldn’t actually be kissing him, but the idea makes me nervous. It’s not like I don’t want to kiss him, stage kiss him, it’s the opposite, I’ve grown fond of him and might even say I have a crush on him. I know that I don’t have a shot with him or anyone for that matter but I can’t help but wish for more than a stage kiss. But if a stage kiss is the closest I'll get to being with Shinso I'll take it.

Without saying anything I get up from my chair and move towards Shinso, I place my hands on his face and then I lift my thumbs positioning them in front of his lips. they flout above his lips as I pause for a second, thinking about touching his lips with my thumbs, it’s still intimate in my mind, but his puzzled look makes me place my thumbs down on his lips. There soft, I would have expected chapped lips but this is a pleasant surprise. I close my eyes and kiss my own thumbs, I keep my lips there longer than I do when I stage kiss Jiro, but Shinso won’t know that. I pull away and open my eyes, to see Shinso smiling and almost laughing, then he begins to laugh. I began to feel insignificant and stupid again. I know I don’t have a shot with some as amazing as Shinso but that doesn’t mean I didn’t still hope that the stage kiss would lead to something more, and real.

“Sorry for laughing. You really haven’t had your first kiss.”

It’s that obvious to him, sure I told him but how can he tell how inexperienced I am from just a stage kiss.

“What’s that suppose to mean?”

I asked in a more rude tone than I meant to.

"Well you closed your eyes, like the whole time, and you were there longer than needed.”

“You’re supposed to close your eyes, right. That’s what they do in movies and like it’s bad if you open your eyes, or that’s what I’ve heard.”

Shinso nods at my statement but it seems to be in a teasing way.

“Wel that right but you make it seem like life or death, your eyes aren’t just closed there squeezed shut, and with simple kisses that the .. um … the stage kiss is replicating, it’s short. Cause in real life it would be a little awkward to put your lips against someone else’s without at least some lip movement.”

I find his corrections on my stage kiss annoying, and I don’t try to hide it in my voice.

"Oh, so your some sort of kissing expert?”

“I wouldn’t call myself that, but I’m more experienced than you.”

I become more annoyed because his voice changed and he became more smug

"Well, it’s not my fault I haven’t had my first kiss!”

I yell at him.

“Neither is it mine.”

“Yes, it is because anyone who hasn’t tried to kiss me is at fault!”

I blurt out without think of consequences, and when I look at Shinso and his smug, flirtatious face I know that there’s going to be consequences.

“So if I kiss you then I can be free from being blamed?”

I go wide-eyed, I can’t tell if he’s being serious. And if he is I don’t know if I want my first kiss to be under these circumstances. Oh, who am I kidding I was ready to have my first kiss be with Jiro for a play. I try to ask him how serious he is but it stumbles out in pieces.

“How ….uu. I ho-how seri-serious is your.. Uhh ...your ..proposal?”

I sound like a mess. I watch as Shinso stands up from his chair moving closer to me. His left hand rests on my cheek. Leans in and whispers...

“As serious as you want it to be.”

We stand and stay in this position until Shinsou whispers more...

“I’m asking if I can kiss you.”

“Yes!”

The yes that falls out of my mouth is too fast and too quiet but Shinsou heard it and leaned in. I don’t like to admit that I’m wrong but I was and Shinso is right. Without movement this is awkward. But then he snickers with his lips still on mine, that’s when I realize he wasn’t moving on purpose to prove his point. He begins to move, and I half expect it to become a french kiss but it doesn’t. I follow his lips movement hoping that I’m doing it correctly.

We eventually pull away, both our faces tinted pink with blush. I’m not used to silence so I try to fill it.

"Wow, where did all that confidence come from?”

Shinso was often not as flirty as he has been for the past 10 minutes.

“Don’t know, it happens more than you’d expect.”

His hand does that thing that I’ve read in teen romance stories, where it goes behind their neck. I can see the movement of hair and fingers and I assume that it’s some sort of nervous tick to play with his hair, it cute.

“So I think we did enough work for one day, so I guess it’s time to go home.”

I nodded and turn back to grab my stuff, I turn around and Shinsou is already ready to go, waiting for me, but he doesn’t seem to be annoyed like most people are when I take longer to get ready. He locks up the room and we walk to the exit together. When we get outside I turn to start walking home, Shinsou turns the other way but before I get too far he turns back and yells at me.

“Do you need a ride? People shouldn’t walk this late at night, I don’t mind giving you a ride. “

I turn around and yell back...

"I don’t want to get you in trouble for being home late.”

“I’d probably get more in trouble if I let you walked, that’s how my dads are, so come on.”

He waves me over and I jog over to him.

During the ride we don’t talk much, letting the radio fill the car, scaring off the awkward silence. I told him my address and he uses a GPS for direction instead of asking me every 2 minutes when to turn. So I was able to just watch him, and I never realized how attractive people can be while driving till now. Especially the one hand on the wheel, his right hand still on the shift even though it an automatic, his left hand on the wheel. The same hand that was on my cheek less than 20 minutes ago. The realization brings color back to my face, I begin to think about the kiss again. My thinking almost always leads to questions that make me insecure, and like always, I begin to question. Along with my brain answering with the most likely answer

Did I do it right? No.

Did he like it? No.

Does he regret it? Of course.

Was it just a moment thing? Yes.

Or does it have a deeper meaning? No.

Will it happen again? Never, don’t even get your hopes up.

Will we become more than friends? Idiot.

Did he hate it? How else is someone supposed to feel after kissing you?

Is Jiro right? Has she ever been wrong, no, and that hasn’t changed.

Will he stop being my friend? Probably and if not, it’s pity.

Why did he do it? To teach you, cause your a lonely idiot.

Does he like me? Not even a question, of course not, look at him, then yourself. He would never like you.

“Denki is this it?”

I’m broken from the negative thoughts. Shinso has already parked, I look out the window, and sure enough, it is my house.

“Yeah."

I step out and grab my stuff, I close the door, the window rolls down.

"Have a good day Denki.”

"Yeah, you to Shinso.”

I begin to walk away but he yells out a little more...

"Call me Hitoshi. Also, It wasn’t a moment thing, and I want to see where this leads.”

My back was turned the whole time he said talked, I stand there frozen in disbelief. It’s only when I hear his car drive away that I breathe again, my first breath also being a whisper of his name.

#mina ashido #bnha aoyama #tokoyami fumigake #shinkami #hitoshi shinsou #denki kaminari #yamada hizashi #jirou kyouka #background ships #tokoyama #aoyama x tokoyami

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soramel · 3 years

Text

Chained to You (Part 4)

genre: angst, romance, unconventional relationship warning: eventual smut A/N: cross-posted; the story continues at Part 18 in wattpad;

1 2 3 4

Part 4 words: 2,595

Drumming your fingers on the steering wheel, you unconsciously bit your lip as you tried to sort your thoughts out. You even closed your eyes... forehead scrunched in confusion as your failed attempt to detach yourself from all the happenings irritated you more.

So what if he has a woman?

It shouldn't be surprising at all because he's accomplished, has a good family background, and for sure, the looks that everyone would kill for.

Did I just admit that he's attractive?

You scoffed at the thought. Those sleepless nights you spent on analyzing worksheets after worksheets finally altered how your brain functions.

Your phone rang, pulling you out of your reverie. Its noise cutting through the deafening silence in your parked SUV. Then a knock came through the window, startling you. "Fuck!" you said out loud, clutching your chest.

It was your bodyguard. "Saeho!" you shouted at him sounding annoyed but it only muffled through the car door.

Taking a quick glance at your phone, you saw it was the devil you were just thinking about seconds ago. Instead of taking the call, you chose to open the window instead and talk to Saeho.

"What?" you snapped at him, also wondering how he found you so fast.

"You need to head back inside, Ma'am," he said in a stern voice, not liking the disappearing act you pulled.

You sighed and said, "I know. Just give me a break."

He watched you lean your head back on the headrest as you try to recollect yourself. The ringing of the phone just ended when it rang again with the same caller id. With a drag, you handed out the device to Saeho, but he just looked at it.

With another nudge of the phone in the air, he took it slowly from your hand.

"Sir," he answered as he put it by his ear.

There was a pause before Taehyung spoke up.

"Where is she?" he asked, his voice laced with darkness that even made a big man like Saeho gulp.

"She's safe, sir. We're in the basement parking. She's inside her car. She gave me her phone for me to answer," he explained.

"Get her back here. Now."

Then you heard the line cut off.

Saeho handed back the phone to you and pleaded for you to follow his boss' order. "Ma'am, this way, please," his voice having a more hint of emotion now as he snuck in his arm through the window to unlock your door.

With a huff, you alighted from the vehicle and passed him your purse.

Saeho followed your steps, taking an enough distance from you like he always does. You suddenly stopped from your tracks and faced him again.

"I can't really go back there this soon. I'm still annoyed," you wondered out loud, leaving the man in conflict. It really is indeed difficult to serve two masters at once. He didn't know what happened when he saw you rushing down the hall and it was not his place to ask why. But he was smart enough to deduce the reason behind your act.

He might not show it but he feels bad for you, but at the same time, he wants to keep his job. Taehyung pays him a handsome amount which sustains the needs of his wife and ailing child.

"We're in no hurry but we have to keep moving, Ma'am," he replied in compromise.

You turned around an walked towards the entrance at a much slower pace. He opened the door as you headed inside the elevator lobby and waited for a lift.

"She's tightly guarded, Sir. We can't find a window to execute the plan," the man spoke through the phone.

The news earned a sigh from the other line.

"Keep trying. It'll be more difficult to get to her once the ceremony's all over."

"Copy, sir," then the hired man ended the call.

Regardless, the receiver prepared himself for the worst, and that is having to do everything by himself.

"Useless bastards," he muttered under his breath.

It was two hours before midnight and they only had little time left to act on the situation. Once they miss this window of opportunity, they'd have to take matters to their own hands and it won't be a pretty sight.

There were still no progress from the team he sent. It was difficult to bypass the heiress' security. Although they blend well in the crowd, his men were trained enough to recognize the security team's tactic.

Namjoon wasn't the type to get his hands dirty. No matter what job that is.

J, negative

He then replied without hesitation,

Plan B

He threw the phone on the table with a thud after sending the text message.

When Jungkook received the order, he immediately left the hotel suite to pursue his target.

Saeho approached Taehyung cautiously and said, "Number unidentified, but I sent someone to follow through and extract information."

Taehyung's jaw tensed in response. "Why not grab one of them now?"

"We can't do that without grabbing much attention. Unless, that's fine with you, sir," Saeho replied. Taehyung's eyes were deeply set on you as you talk with your colleagues. He roamed his stare on their faces then to the people within your perimeter, then back to you. His eyes met yours.

Without breaking away from your gaze, he uttered, "I'll bring her back to her room. Keep me updated."

"Yes, sir."

Saeho then gave way to Taehyung as he strode the distance between you. From his cold demeanor, he flashed a warm smile to your colleagues, making them flustered.

You felt his hand slid around your waist. His hold was gentle yet firm.

"S-sir!" one of your colleagues managed to utter a greeting. Both men and women looked at your fiancé with admiration.

You casually introduced him to them. "This is Minho, Song, and Hyeji. My team in one of my projects. And you already know Jae."

Without further ado, Taehyung said, "Would you mind me taking my wife back? We need to head back early for tomorrow's wedding."

This made you take a step back but with his kind of hold, you were only able to put an unnoticeable distance from him. "Already?" you voiced out in protest.

"Sure!"

"Of course," your team replied in unison.

"You need to have a proper rest," Taehyung told you before flashing his swooning smile back to your colleagues.

"Thank you, excuse us."

You were still confused as he led you out of the banquet hall. You were stuck to his side until you could finally free yourself from his grip once you stepped in the lift.

"What's happening? Isn't it rude to just leave our own party? Like that?"

He's getting on your nerves and your annoyance is also starting to get the best of him. He thought the attitude was because he was 10 minutes late to your dinner.

Taehyung let out a sigh and faced you after pressing the floor button for your suite. "Charles will handle it. I just want you to get your rest."

Though that was just his excuse.

You crossed your arms in front of your chest, "If you were paying attention, I was still in the middle of a conversation with my team when you decided to have things your way. I didn't like that."

He tried his best to hide his sarcastic smile by looking down but you caught on. Your brow twitched in annoyance. His actions and the way he treats you makes you feel disrespected. No matter how much you want to cut ties with him, you need to know the tricks hidden up his sleeve.

Why would the news of merger suddenly brought harm to your family's life

Why the Kims, your supposed protector, are sweeping important facts under the rug

Why does your father trust them so much

Questions that you're sure would pile up as you try to uncover the truth. Despite that, you're determined to protect what's yours even though that means selling your soul to the devil.

You stared deep into his eyes.

"Fine. See you tomorrow at our wedding," you let out in a dismissive tone.

He sighed inwardly in relief as he watched the door slam right in front of him.

The room was dark as you entered. With a sigh, you blindly took off your accessories starting with the earrings.

You're getting married tomorrow and it's really happening. To an estranged childhood friend, a man you barely know, a lover of someone else. Red flags that were enough to stop someone from proceeding with the foolish ploy.

But this is for your family's sake.

The Kims are a possible threat you had to understand first.

On a flick of a light switch, you were startled to see a man standing in the middle of your suite. You almost squealed in shock but it got cut off when he approached you in a stride, stifling your voice.

Fear rose up in your chest and your imagination had gone haywire with the thought of why would be someone in here.

"Hush, I'm not here to harm you," he looked at you intently and you slowly start to associate a name on the man's face. It should have comforted you but it only added to your growing fear and confusion.

Jungkook?

He saw the recognition that flashed your eyes, then he continued in a much lower and hushed voice. "Promise me you won't scream, I just need to talk."

Your brows furrowed. What is Taehyung's friend doing in my room, surprising me like a murderer, in the middle of the night?

Just to know what the fuck is going on you nodded your head thrice, still breathing heavily, with your pulse racing.

Once his grip loosened, you immediately took a step back, holding your purse in front of you as if that was enough for a weapon to defend yourself.

"What are you do--" your loud and scandalous voice made him cover your mouth again. You didn't see how but he's now on your back, your body tightly pressed to his.

"Not so loud," his voice laced with irritation. It wanna made you scoff, you should be the one irritated in this situation, not him.

"Taehyung's not who you think he is," he murmured, hoping that will stop you from fighting him off.

You did your best to calm down to show him that you're ready to listen. Not that you don't know what he's talking about. You know who the true Taehyung is.

Jungkook loosened his hands on you once he thought he piqued your curiosity.

You turned to him, a little bit surprised at the very close distance he had put in between.

You looked up a bit to meet his eyes.

"I know who Taehyung is,"

You told him, full with pride.

He was about to speak when you cut him off, "So if you're here to warn me about his lover, you can leave. I've already decided," you told him and he seemed surprise at the news. It looked like that was not the thing he was pertaining about but you could care less.

This marriage is more than you and your feelings.

If being close to the threat will help save your family, then be it. If they're not and they're really trying to help, then better.

Jungkook raised his eyebrows in surprise, "You're truly whipped," he said in disbelief. Well that was not new to him. He knew Taehyung during his teenage years. He knew how he was or is with the ladies.

"I'm not. I-" you were about to spill some sensitive information but you luckily caught yourself.

No one else is supposed to know about this except you and your private investigator, Hoseok.

"Well that sucks but that was not just it, Princess," he informed, the title he used sounded like a mock.

"His family will use yours to get what they want. This might bring harm not only to your family, but to everyone."

Tilting your head to the side, "then this will be just another billion dollar venture for them," you stated after Jungkook told you what he could let you know... for now. He has yet to see for himself and the organization which side you're on. It was a huge gamble for them to involve you in this. If it were up to him, he would rather not involve a socialite like you. The type that Taehyung lures in and break. But to Namjoon, you were different.

He silently strode to the door and looked into the peephole to see if there are guards. "How did you get in here anyway?" you asked him, as you were sidetracked from his movement.

"The balcony," he stated as he walked back. "They'll eventually monopolize the IT industry. All the servers, engines, systems, running in this country will be under their control. Just masked in different names."

"We traced that 65% of the sector belonged to their family already. Indirectly,"

"and if this will go out of hand, there will be irreversible repercussions." he finished as he stood before you, meeting your gaze intently.

You walked around the living area of the hotel suite, settling on the couch. "I didn't know they had that slice too," you blurted out as you went in deep thought. The Kims are involved in a lot of ventures. May it be in security services and systems, management consultancy, logistics, and others. But so is your family. Well your mother's side to be specific. With it being more prominent in hospitality and airline industry.

You traced back your gaze to the intruder.

"Regardless, that's none of my business, Jungkook. The world is what it is." you told him.

And he knew.

A privileged woman like you won't understand it. Because the system fits well for you that you became a part of it.

His jaw almost twitched in disgust, but he managed to mask it off with a smirk. "Your family will be their puppet. You will bear the damages once things fall out of place,"

"Then I'll make sure it won't," you replied, looking at him straight in the eyes.

Taking a deep breath, you suggested, "I could pretend this didn't happen. I'll let you slip back where you came from without sending a distress call to my security next door." then you took out a black device out of your purse, lifting off its switch. Then you placed your thumb on top of it, ready to press it in any second.

He let out a chuckle. "You'll be lying dead on the floor before they arrive here, don't underestimate me."

You let out a sweet smile and shook your head. "I'm not. I know you're very capable of that seeing how you managed to get here," then you unceremoniously pressed the device which made made him jump to his feet and briskly left, leaving the glass door open. All the while making sure that you know how pissed he is and he's not yet done with you. If eyes could kill.

Saeho barged in right after a beep. "Ma'am," he let out. When you seemed fine, his eyes scanned the room immediately, looking for any threats.

With your gaze on the glass door, he jogged onto it seeing that it was ajar.

You stood up and headed into the bedroom. "Please close it. It's getting cold," you calmly ordered as you closed the bedroom door shut.

#bts fanfic #bts series #taehyung fanfic #bts angst #jungkook fanfic

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sassysweetstories · 6 years

Text

My Everything

Request: “Can you do an imagine with SHAWN MENDES where you are a famous model/singer/actress and you guys have been together for a while and had a daughter who’s only 3 names Nala and yeah you can choose from there XXX My names alana btw xoxox”

Ship: Shawn Mendes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, minor kissing, PURE FLUFF, etc.

Notes: none of these gifs are mine, credit to owners.

Tagged in all: @bailey-hoover @kiralivelove @thalia-prior-of-ravenclaw@anamcg317 @bellasett @queentiffanyyy @archer-whovian-violinist @beingmadinwonderland @princessisabelle19 @violence-and-velvet

Third P.O.V

[A few years ago]

Shawn sits to watch the blooper reals from his favorite movie of his favorite person, (Y/n) (Y/L/N). Wrapped like a burrito, he smiles when the gorgeous woman comes on the screen, looking nothing but angelic. How could one person look that beautiful? He thought to himself before smiling and giggling softly at the dialogue. The multifaceted angel started saying her line before coming to stop and cussing under breath. “Listen Jessica, you have the charisma of pen- so y-you caaaann fuck me. That’s not my line. Ugh, fuck me. Don’t fuck me but like fuck me.” The crew behind the camera burst out laughing along with the other actors. The video switches to another scene that he knew by memory since he’d watched it so many times. The scene starts off normally, a fighting one in which she runs from a guard but this time runs directly into a cardboard wall, smashing right through it.

All everyone can hear is a faint cackle from (Y/n) as she pulls herself from the rubble, wiping off the dust that covers the entirety of her body before saying, “And that’s why you don’t cocaine.” The crew and other actors are doubled over laughing so hard their faces are redder than the tomato’s Shawn absolutely despises. “Oh my god, I’m too old for this shit. I’m gonna break something, hahaha.” She says with a smile, trying hopelessly to not laugh before bubbling over while Shawn burst out damn near to tears. Though he’s seen the clip a thousand times at least, it never ceases to put a smile on his face. The next scene is one from one of her recent works where her characters girlfriend is trying to seduce her. (Y/n) turns over her shoulder to see the actress dressed in lingerie, gawking as she was suppose to before her girlfriend sauntered upstairs.

Quickly, (Y/n) got up from her chair and ran after her but in doing so, landed right on the floor before collapsing in another room. The crew is laughing so hard, they can barely contain themselves. “Ya know, for some long ass, giraffe legs I’ve been blessed with, you’d think they’d be more durable and sturdy. Ouch, I think I broke my ass cheeks.” Shawn burst out laughing, mimicking the giggles from the video. The bloopers continue until they run completely out. He makes his way over to Instagram and helplessly smiles at the first photo that pops up on his feed. (Y/n)’s in a beautiful gown that makes her look like a queen, one that nobody dare upset. Her strong gaze is powerful and terrifying, nonetheless. The next photo in the slide is an angle where she’s caught laughing and Shawn’s heart nearly falls. God, that smile is so beautiful. He likes the picture before looking at the next recent post. She’s with her best friend singing a familiar song. It takes him a minute to registrar that it’s his.

Sitting up with a jolt, he grins like a kid on Christmas before pulling his legs up to his chest to listen closely. “OH MY GOD, THIS IS MY FAVORITE SONG!” She screams before bopping back and forth with her best friend who giggles in delight. “THERE’S NOTHING HOLDING ME BACK!” They sing in unison. God, she’s a model, an actress and, a singer. What can’t this woman do? God, I’d do anything to meet her.. He watches them until the video ends and opts to watch it another time before his phone rings, pulling him away with a groan. “Hey Shawn,-” It’s Andrew, his manager. “I’ve got a new big thing for you.” Shawn loves Andrew but he was worried nonetheless. He hadn’t really wanted to do another shitty interview with another shitty person but forced himself to listen to the man. “You told me you wanted to get more into the acting industry so I found you a part. It’s an action, spy movie starring, wait for it-” He pauses before saying, “(Y/n) (Y/L/N) as your love interest!!” Oh. My. God. God is real.

Your P.O.V

[A few years later]

“Welcome to the show, (Y/n)!” Ellen says with a big smile as I sit across from her with a grin. “I’m so honored to be here! Thank you so much for having me.” She glanced down at her card before saying, “So, let me get this straight- You’re a full time model, a full time actress, whom by the way, is in not one, but two upcoming movies. A full time singer and has another album out AND not only that a full time mom. CONGRATULATIONS!” The crowd applauded loudly and I can’t help but rub my neck and blush at my accomplishments before saying, “Yeah, I haven’t slept in days.” Both her and the crowd laugh as I slouch a little to show how tired I am before I sit back up. “AND you’re married to Shawn Mendes, whom is a downright sweetheart and is also putting out his newest album as well!!” A picture shows up of him and when I look, I feel my heart swoon. “You alright, (Y/n)?” I blush and shake my head.

“Honestly. I’m just so smitten. I just love him so much.” Both Ellen and the crowd awe at my cute and corny behavior, making me even more red. “You guys are just too cute. But speaking of cute, your daughter Nala is so precious.” I turn over my shoulder to see my baby-girl grinning from cheek to cheek. She looks so much like me it’s crazy. “So tell us about her?” Ellen asks with a smile. “She’s so adorable. She actually has the most beautiful, big (Y/E/C) eyes and she knows it, uses it to her advantage. Since she’s been born, we’ve actually scheduled everything so that we’re always together, ya know both looking after her which is not good sometimes. If I say no to her, she’ll go right to Shawn. And I swear to god, she has him whipped.”

The crowd awes and laugh all in a span of a few seconds. “That’s so cute.” Ellen says before I continue. “Yeah, I remember this one time she asked me if she could have another cookie and I was like, “No, sweetheart. One is enough, okay?” And she nodded as if she understood before walking into Shawn’s office-” I pause as the audience laughs. “Some of you are ahead of me it seems. So she goes up to Shawn and bats her big (Y/E/C) eyes and he’s smitten. He will do anything for her at the drop of a pin.” Ellen giggles at the story, clutching her stomach as I continue. “And later that night, I caught them having milk with cookies. I sent Nala to bed and I pulled Shawn aside and was like, “What are you going? We can’t let her eat all the cookies in the house?” And he like looked down and then gave me his puppy dog stare. And I’m a sucker for brown eyes. And he says, “But hun, I can’t say no to her. You two look so similar and I never say no to you. It’d be wrong.” I just shook my head and went, “Damn. Our daughter has you whipped.”

Ellen took my hand with a smile. “That’s absolutely adorable. But I also can’t get over your wedding. Your anniversary is coming up though, right? But it’s more than that. He proposed to you and then you proposed to him, is that right?!” Hand still attached to hers, I cover my face, laughing. “Yeah, actually. Um, funny story. So, he proposed to me and it was incredible and perfect and romantic and everything a girl could dream of and I thought, it’s not fair that he doesn’t get a moment like that, ya know? So a few weeks later, I told him, “Hey, let’s have a big cool, very dressed up party!” And of course he was on board but I called some of his best friends and I told them about the plan and told them to take him out for the day so that I could decorate the house and everything. I got my friends involved and prior to the actual party, I bought a gorgeous ring for him and I was going to propose to him that night.”

The crowd awed again. “So, I called all of our closest friends and family from all over. Our managers, cousins, the whole nine yard. And then, halfway through the party, I pulled Geoff, one of Shawn’s friends aside and was like, “It’s go time.” I grabbed everybody’s attention and my heart was like in my chest-” Ellen smile went wider. “We actually have the video!” I put my hands up to my face, watching closely as my video self begun to speak. “I’d like to thank you all for coming here! Many of you traveled a very long distance and for that I am forever great-ful. But tonight is so much more to me than a party. Many of you know that I am engaged to this angel of a man and after Shawn proposed, I thought more about marriage than ever before. And I don’t think I tell you enough-” My video self says as I look up at Shawn. “But I love you more than anyone in the universe. I never thought that I would find someone as perfect as you, someone who makes me laugh as hard as you do and forget about the bad.

“When I’m with you, everything just stops around us and you’re the only person I see. The love I have for you is so much better than the movies I use to binge all the time as a kid. You bring out the best in me and make me a better person everyday. God, I love you so much it hurts. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to grow old with you. Laugh until my stomach hurt and I can barely breath with you. You are my everything. And not long after you proposed to me, I wanted you to be with the people that love you just as much as I do, feel the love I felt. So-” My video self gets down on her knees, heels and all. Shawn covers his mouth the way girls usually do when it comes to proposals, crying openly. The hundreds of cameras get it and it takes everything in me to not cry again at the memory. “Will you, Shawn Peter Raul Mendes, marry me?” He nods before shouting yes and then swooping me up in his arms with a thousand kisses. The crowd awes and some even cries at the video.

“That is just the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Are you two even real? You’re whole family is perfect and adorable and as people tell me, legit goals.” Ellen raves again before saying “Since were speaking of couples. Why don’t we bring out the rest of the family?!” Before she could even finish, Nala ran out from behind stage and jumped into my arms, screaming. “MOMMY!” I can’t help but giggle and kiss her head before sitting back down. “Mommy, daddies waiting for you. He told me to tell you look bootyful.” The crowd laughs at her adorable voice. She gets off my legs and walks a few inches over to Ellen before taking her hand and pecking her fist. “It’s n-nice to meet you Mrs. Deverous.” She returns to my lap, smiling at the crowd before waving at Ellen. I giggle at the interaction before kissing her head softly. “You too look so much alike! Do you get that a lot?” She asks and before I can finish Nala is already talking.

“Y-Yeah, we du get that a lot but we’re both angels as daddy likes to tewl us. Can daddy come out?” Ellen nodded to her question. “Of course! Shawn Mendes, everyone!” Nala jumps off my lap and runs over to where Shawn entering, screaming. “DADDY!!” He squats before wrapping his arms around her. She giggles in delight and I am blown away by how handsome he is. That’s my husband. I stand up pull him into a warm kiss before he reluctantly pulls away to hug Ellen. When he sits, Nala kisses his cheek before sitting down in between us. “Daddy, you sit there and mommy can sit here.” Once we move to the spots that she wants us in, she glances up at us with big eyes before shimmying her shoulders in delight. “Oh yeah, she’s definitely ours. Your mommy does the shoulder shimmy a lot, right, baby-girl?” She nodded as a confirmation before looking at Ellen again. “I wust wanted to say that Mrs. Deverous, you look very bootyful tonight.”

She blushes and thanks Nala for the compliment before our daughter takes both Shawn and my hands, putting them on her small lap with an excited smile. “Can we tell them now? Pueeessse!” I look up at Shawn for confirmation. With his free hand, he tucks some of my hair out of my face, wrapping it around my ear. “This is the best place to tell them. I’m ready. Nala, would you like to do the honors?” Not even a second later, she screams. “I’M GETTING A BABY BROWTHOR!” Ellen and the crowd lose their minds, jumping with joy and some cry with happiness. She gets up to hug all of us and when I look back at Shawn, him and my daughter are all I see. I love them so much it hurts. They’re my everything.

(I hope you liked it!! Please comment below!)

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easkyrah · 7 years

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Writing Tips

By yours truly, Ea SkyrAHHHHHHHHHHH because how does one write?!?!??? I shall attempt to do the justice as requested without coming across sappy and superior. I would like to put it out there whoever said writing was easy doesn’t know how to write; look at me, already going on a tangent. So I’m just going to leave this here for now, but edit and add on as time proceeds. Note that these tips work for me, but do not have to work for you!

Be realistic to yourself

One thing I’ve noticed is that most fan-fiction writers conform to the type of writing style of the author in the fandom. While this does draw more attention to the fics and appeal to the general audience, this does not promote the writer’s own style.

Most fan-fiction writers aspire to become authors. Play around with writing styles. Personally, I’ve toyed with hyphens a lot after becoming hooked with Edgar Allan Poe’s poetry, and started using more ellipses after reading Sarah J. Maas’s works.

However, Poe uses a plethora of commas and exclamation marks. Maas utilizes myriad of fragments. This doesn’t mean you must incorporate all aspects of another’s. For example, when varying sentence length, I tend to use alliteration—extended with hyphens—perhaps finalized with an ellipse...

Take what you need and flesh it into your own writing style. Take what you love and build what you want. Take what you see and observe your own style emerge. But never, ever feel forced to wedge your words into other works.

Are you a fluff writer? A smut writer? An angst writer? If you tend to lean towards one genre, don’t jerk yourself in another to attempt to “be more diverse, learn how to write more, etc”. Don’t force yourself into a direction that is not you.

Doing so allows writer’s block to seep. Doing so means that your writing is now not reflective of who you are and what you want your writing to come across as.

Trying out new writing types is great, don’t get me wrong. But if you’re not doing it for yourself, for your own experimental purposes, then you lose that passion in writing.

Once you lose that passion in writing, you lose the senses captured in the writing. And if you’re not happy with your writing, then chances are, your readers will not be happy with it either.

Channel the Characters

Most people agree that the plot is the heart of the story, yeah? If so, then the characters are the blood, the essence of life that circulates around, the makes us cherish or condone the story. If there’s no characters, or blood, there’s not story, or life.

Characters have their own unique personality: they react differently in varying scenarios; they have their own personal ghosts, flaws, and vices. With all these facets and more, it’s hard to piece together a plot that resounds to each of the character’s fundamental pillars.

What I do is pretend I am the character, not am I seeing through the character’s eyes. In fan-fiction, you don’t have to exactly follow the same lines of the original characterization. You’re allowed to have a Dark![name], or even Switch. That’s why OC’s gain such popularity nowadays.

You can hold the character with one hand, and have he/she have the other folded into the original pages. You do not have to fold the characters around the plot. You can have a crack character. That is okay. Do not let your mind conform to the characterization.

If a character does something small as small as waggling his/her eyebrows to something large as tracking down your family’s location across the seas from separation since youth and bringing them to you despite others planning contingencies against you, which also takes time away from plotting to gain $$$ since you’re all about greed: I’m just SOC trash, then piece together those small skins of sanctuary in your fics.

That repeated idea will elicit familiarity from your readers. Not only will it seem like you’re just deep in the fandom as the next person, but also will make you a credible writer. Details are the cells in the story’s body. If you can capture them, then you can write the fic.

So when you think of characters, you probably think of the heroine or hero first, yeah? For me, at least, I think of the villain. The villain can be the environment, the mind of the protagonist, or a physical entity. Without the opposition, the character’s response, inner strength, and/or Achilles’ Heel does not manifest.

Who is the villain in your fic? How will he or she challenge the protagonist? Is your villain a flat type, or will he or she undergo character development? Is she insane and fickle, keeping readers on their toes? Or is he beyond strong that he can smash the protagonist to the floor, creating mutual hatred and a cycle? Is their fates intertwined to the point where Priestess Chay-ara and Prince Khufu have their fate encircled by Vandal’s Savage (DC trash)?

The villain challenges the protagonist’s beliefs. Whether if it’s outright as the devil whispering in his or her ear, or indirect as having the protagonist save a child or an elder, the main character and his or her response will determine his or her own characterization.

His or her flaws will be revealed. Is he obsessed with tracking down the villain? Is she lazy to follow through her sense of duty? Is he a stringent, judge-type character? Is she a morally gray character? Does he have a twisted conscience? Does she strike up a deal with the villain? Does she does so for greed or for self-sacrificial purposes?

You can spin the villain in so many ways to shape the plot. What if the main villain was bullied into his or her own the present assessment? Break the trope that the villain victimizes others so they can play the victim. Or will you follow the emerging trope: make the protagonist a bad guy (because he’s threatened? because she’s under mind control?), and only the villain can stop the lead character after fighting him or her for so long.

At Large

In the end, sometimes I really don’t care about the plot or the characters. I don’t care about the snazzy dialogue or elegant symbolism I care about how this overall piece made you feel. Did you cringe? Cry? Smile? Laugh? Those responses allow writers to see how to flesh their writing.

If the writings elicit feeling, then you’ve accomplished beyond scratching the surface. You’ve given human qualities to pages, and given personality to characters. You’ve exploited the emotions, and that in itself is more than talent.

Repetition is no easy aspect to use. If you repeat words such as “lips” or “walls”, that dulls the entire writing. Use synonyms that appeal to you, but do not essentially change your writing style. Doing so only exacerbates the piece at whole.

Your word choice defines who you are as a writer. The jump from “postponing” to “procrastinating” is no large one, but going from “impromptu” to “extemporaneous” is. Having one technical word in a fluff fic creates inconsistency.

With this, I tend to read certain scenes aloud. Doing so allows me to see if the sentences flow, and also adds an emphasis on the syllables, which have stressed and unstressed sounds.

Following the sounds also allows more similar words and something congruous to follow up. I tend to highlight variance in sentence length, and doing so means that each word has to be concise, and chosen carefully.

At Small

Flatter yourself. You are a writer. The eyes are the window to the soul? Pffft, it’s the words that are that, and the key to the heart. You are conquering realms, immersing yourself in the imagination, and jumping across cultures.

If you’re attempting to write, do not multitask. Trust me, you get nowhere doing that. Sit down, and imagine. Close your eyes, and see what you want to happen. Take a journey down through the details.

Personally, I don’t plan when I write. I write on whims. It’s a talent if you can sit down, feeling dry, and conjure up words. To circumvent writer’s block, I take a stroll down Pinterest, talk to other users, or don’t think about writing at all. Often I find that when I’m running a recovery run, that’s often when the creative juices leak. Find your outlet.

We all have other talents or topics we’re experts on. For me, as a cross country and track and field runner, running’s my specialty. I’m no Olympian, but if you can weave in facts that flow in scenes (e.g. Cassian attempting to train Nesta in ACOWAR), then you build credibility piece by piece.

If you have a green thumb, perhaps incorporate your knowledge of plants and the environment into fics. You could create an AU where there’s plants versus zombies (like the app), and have the characters zombies. Or perhaps you can create a fluff scene where the manliest character actually knows about flowers and has his soul mate swooning over him because of that fact. Now I’m just rambling, oh wells.

Many readers are becoming concerned with ethnicity. This is going to be hard to tackle. But if you’re writing a fan-fiction, you don’t necessarily have to detail all the looks of a character. I personally tend to stray away from saying “small eyes” to reference to Asian characters, because one, I find that offensive, and two, not very artistically written. Instead, if describing appearances in new environments, I focus on the details that are altered. Does that even make sense??

Do, not tell. That’s one essential mantra I have to repeat to myself. Don’t say a character’s “mean and cold and crude” right off the bat. Instead, demonstrate such qualities through actions. Don’t say a character’s a sick sadist. Show the reader how the character is one.

Yes, 99% of male characters are hot as heck, rocking those muscular bods, but perhaps go beyond that? I protest that having broad shoulders, often one detail given by writers, is a sign of being hella hot and out of this world handsome.

You can manipulate the tropes to make readers fall in love with characters. For example, the mysterious, violent detective has his determined significant other tucking sunflowers in his hair keeps every flower and upon asking his SO to marriage, he sweeps her away to a sunflower field. Keep the environment mysterious, reflecting the male’s own character, by having the proposal at dusk or dawn.

When world-building, which is essential in AU’s for fan-fictions, space out the facts in the world. Perhaps have a billboard displaying one of the rules society has to follow. Have the character speak one of the despised government regulations through his or her own unique dialogue.

OH AND THE OXFORD COMMA. If there’s not that third comma, I tend to just stop reading the fic. It’s not a huuuuge deal, but it always triggers me. I’m just biased like that so please just kindly turn away from me I just don’t understand.

I’m skipping sooo much, but feel free to add on. I’ll be revising this as I think upon this more, but these were what I could think of at the top of my head.

#easkyrah #writing tips

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underachievers-please-try-harder · 5 years

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Review // Chromatics - Roundhouse - 27 October 2019

For London In Stereo. Read online.

To many, Chromatics are more than a band; they’re a complete musical universe, located at the intersection of Italo disco, post-punk and film noir. That they blended in so beautifully at the Roadhouse during their cameos in the 2017 Twin Peaks reboot is thanks in part to this distinct aesthetic, but also to the air of mystery that Johnny Jewel and co have quietly cultivated this past decade and a half.

Since wrapping up touring commitments for 2012’s Kill For Love, the Portland group’s movements have been largely shrouded in secrecy, with them reportedly hard at work on the follow-up, Dear Tommy. Five years and a string of singles later, that record has been shelved indefinitely, with October’s album Closer To Grey released in its place.

If anyone was naive enough to turn up to the Roundhouse expecting to hear the truth about these wilderness years, they leave disappointed. Nor do we hear any songs from Closer To Grey for that matter. Instead, tonight the quartet use their first London show in six years to further expand the band’s mythology, presenting a nostalgic set that’s as sumptuous visually as it is musically.

Even before the band appear, three giant video screens transport us to Chromatics’ twilight world, displaying a slideshow that intersperses stark photography and album art with highly-stylised, 70s-inspired, mock advertisements and film posters, complete with hammy slogans like “Love for when life gets too real.” A digital countdown signals the start of the show, and the band emerge from the shadows, silhouetted against the red strip lighting throughout a blistering version of ‘Lady’.

Almost seamlessly they launch into ‘Kill For Love’, which is evocative of New Order at their most romantic, but boasts Ruth Radelet’s ethereal coos rather than Bernard Sumner’s divisive drawl. Radelet is a revelation tonight, switching between bass, guitar and synths, and contributing the feather-light vocals that imbue the swooning dream-pop of ‘Cherry’ and ‘Shadow’ with a palpable sense of longing. That atmosphere of yearning feels most acute during the cover of Bruce Springsteen’s ‘I’m On Fire’, which she despatches solo, drenched in tremolo guitar. Jewel later describes her as “the reason we’re all here”, and Radelett returns the favour, dubbing Jewel both, “One of my oldest friends,” and, “A man of mystery.”

The Italians Do It Better boss does little to disprove the latter tag tonight, gliding wordlessly between instruments to embellish ‘These Streets Will Never Look the Same’ with shards of distorted synth or to add a haunting piano outro to ‘Into The Black.’ Despite all the opulent and disorientating visuals projected behind the band, you find your eye repeatedly drawn to Jewel, as the enigmatic architect of Chromatics’ universe. And it’s telling that, when he eventually returns for the encore, he’s the last to appear and he emerges from the front of the stage, much to everyone’s surprise. “You gotta keep these guys on their toes,” he laughs, and you’re unsure if he’s referring to the rest of the band or us. Either way, mission accomplished.

#chromatics #live review #live #review #live reviews #reviews #london in stereo #johnny jewel #kill for love #italians do it better

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davidegbert · 7 years

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New Year 2017 Wishlist: What Gadgets 360 Staff Are Looking to Buy for Themselves – and Why

Now that 2017 is upon us, the talk inside the Gadgets 360 lab has shifted to things such as CES, MWC, and of course, iPhone 8 rumours. And, since we spend too much time shopping for tech, we're also predictably talking about all the gadgets we want to buy.

For many of us, this is also a bit of a break from reality - we've had people in our team dream of buying an Xbox One for a couple of years before taking the plunge - but who doesn't enjoy planning that next big tech buy?

If you're curious about the gadgets that will be filling the Gadgets 360 office in the coming months - hopefully - then read on to see everyone's top pick for buying in 2017.

Abhinav Lal: HTC Vive - While this will also entail a PC upgrade for me, I want to enter the world of PC gaming VR, and the HTC Vive looks like the best bet so far.

Akhil Arora: 4K HDR TV - Good 4K HDR TVs are way too expensive right now. I was lucky enough to witness the capabilities of one such TV when it landed in our office, and when Netflix showed off the high-end version. Despite the lack of content heading into 2017, I'm sold on the idea of buying one - if money was no barrier - more so because of how much TV I tend to watch.

Devika Chitnis: JBL GO - I am in dire need of a portable speaker. JBL Go has a clean design which is awesome and comes in different pop colours that make the speaker look alive. I am eyeing the orange one. The sound quality is surprisingly good for an affordable portable speaker.

Gagan Gupta: Bose QC35 - Now that I've said goodbye to the 3.5mm jack thanks to my iPhone 7 Plus, I need a good pair of over the ear headphones that can keep out noise, expecially on flights and cabs. While the Bose QC35 may not be every audiophile's headphones of choice, it's still the best when it comes to active noise cancellation, and it sounds just right with my classic rock collection.

Gopal Sathe: Zotac VR GO Backpack - I've been interested in VR since the Oculus Kickstarter first got off the ground. That we are finally "there" is hard to believe. That you can now put on a backpack and enjoy a (largely) mobile yet high quality VR experience is nothing short of magical. If I have the money, I'd absolutely be getting the Zotac VR GO Backpack.

Jamshed Avari: Geforce GTX 1070 - It really is time to get serious about tackling my Steam backlog. I've been putting this off for a long time, but looking at the kind of performance that both Nvidia and AMD have both brought to the table this year, it's finally time. I'm leaning towards the GTX 1070 because I want enough performance headroom to drive top-tier games at 1920x1200 pixels for at least a few years. The specific graphics card will depend on prices and availability at the time of purchase.

Ketan Pratap: Next iPhone - I have been an Android user all of my life but I guess it's about time to go for my first iPhone. Considering this year is the tenth anniversary of the first iPhone launch, I expect the next one to come with decent changes both in terms of innards as well as design.

Kunal Dua: What Gagan said.

Naina Gupta: Next iPhone - I have heard too much about iPhone around me but never used it. I want to take experience of 3D Touch, Live Photos, and other unique features of iPhone.

youtube

Pranay Parab: Board/ Card games - I've been meaning to reduce screen time and spend more time with my friends and family. Card games and board games sound like a way to accomplish this, without spending obscene amounts of money at cinemas and restaurants.

We've all played and hated Monopoly (aka Business), but there are great alternatives such as Pandemic, Resistance, Catan, Game of Thrones, Star Wars: Rebellion. I'm also planning to play funny card games such as Exploding Kittens with my friends.

Ravi Sharma: Nintendo Switch - I am not much of a gamer, but the Nintendo Switch (and its hybrid form factor) may finally be the device that pulls me into the fold. The rumoured price tag of $250-300 makes the Switch cheap enough for me to afford it, without sacrificing my budget for a mid-range laptop that I am also planning to buy in 2017.

And games such new Sonic, Mario, Dragon Quest X, Legend of Zelda titles that are expected to be released for Nintendo Switch are enough to satiate my appetite for nostalgia, while the exclusives will hopefully be engaging enough to retain me on the platform.

Rishi Alwani: Project Scorpio - The PS4 Pro has a one year headstart over Microsoft's next iteration on the Xbox One, that will remain a highly competent piece of kit in 2017. However I'm extremely curious to see how Microsoft leverages its fantastic first-party franchises, such as Forza and Halo to make full use of Project Scorpio, more so with the likes of Scalebound and Crackdown 3 on the way.

Rohan Naravane: Google Pixel 2 - It was great to see Google finally taking hardware into its own hands, and launch the Pixel phones. Since there's been only one Pixel phone till now, there's no guarantee if, or when, we'll see another one. If Google does release a 'Pixel 2', which I'm hoping will happen around the end of 2017, then I would certainly want to buy one.

Roydon Cerejo: Manfrotto Advanced Camera and Laptop backpack - I've been looking to replace my Lowepro Photo Hatchback (which is still serving me brillliantly) with something that can accommodate a laptop too. This particular Mafrotto backpack seem like the prefect combination of size, versitality and price, for me anyways.

Sandeep Kumar Sinha: Sony Smart TV - I need to synchronise my playslists and other streamable content on the devices I own, and, in 2017, my television should have this feature. A Sony Smart TV is a likeable product that I am looking to buy in 2017 as most of the apps I use could be mirrored and projected easily.

Sanket Vijayasarathy: PlayStation 4 - I've been meaning to get my hands on the PlayStation 4 for a while now. I've played a bunch of PS4 titles at friends' places, but seeing as how the console is now available for around Rs. 26,000 (for the 500GB model, whenever there's a sale on), I think the time has come for me to move on to a current-gen console.

Shekhar Thakran: Tekken 7 - I still have fond memories of playing Tekken 3 as well as Tekken 5 on my Playstation 2 from several years ago. As the game franchise is finally coming to PC with Tekken 7 next year, it is a no-brainer for me. With much-improved graphics and the same old characters, nothing that can go wrong.

Shubham Verma: Microsoft Surface Studio with the Microsoft Dial - The beautiful, large-screen monitor is worth swooning over, and the Microsoft Dial takes things to another level. I keep making different art designs on my laptop, and the Microsoft Dial and Surface pen would make this so much easier. While the price will probably keep me from ever actually buying this gadget, if I had the money, the considering the features and the advanced actions enabled by them, this would be the must-buy package of 2017.

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gremlin-writes-angst · 3 years

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The Unkissable Prince CH.2

I cant find it so ill post it again just in case

Denki and Shinsou had been working together during rehearsal almost every time the actors were given time to work on individual character work. Even though Denki was who Shinsou worked with the most, Denki was always disappointed when Shinsou worked with another actor. Now Shinsou was a part of the theater kid group, even during lunch. Currently, most of the students in the production were having lunch together and it was only the second week that Shinsou was a part of this lunch group and he had taken notice of something. For one he noticed the closeness of Tokoyami the actor playing Scully and Aoyama the french boy who played the french chef in the show, he assumed that they were together or were getting to that type of relationship. He also noticed that mina was ursal, not that she was naturally ursal but she constantly in character, basically method acting, and it scared most of the none theater people. What he took notice of most was how they treated Denki, for the most part, it was harmless jokes that could be taken the wrong way. What he was really unsure of was how Jiro treated him, her jokes were more insults than the others, half the time he couldn’t tell if she was even trying to joke about it. Shinsou could tell that Denkiwas affected by Jiro’s words, and he was too. Mostly because her insults were always about other’s feelings toward Denki. Things like

“Your so annoying, it makes people hate you.”

“It’s hard being around you when you are so stupid.”

"I still don’t how you landed the prince role when you the furthest thing from a prince .”

“It’s so hard to act like I’m in love with prince eric when you’re the one playing him.”

“I’m not surprised that you’ve never been in a relationship, I pray for your future partner.”

That last few ones were the ones that hurt Shinso because he was a part of Denkis prince Eric’s portrayal. The last one also struck a chord with him because he liked Denkieven before they become friends, he was almost hopelessly in love with Denkinow that they got to spend time together. Even though Jiro’s comments hurt both Denkiand Shinsou, neither of them was able to stand up to her. All Shinsou could do was find a way to comfort Denki when they were alone.

Denki

“Stay seated.”

“I asked Yamada if I could work with you a little more today here because we didn’t get to.”

I nodded my head and took note of how awkward he knew that we were alone together. I guess he thinks I’m stupid because he went into more detail.

“He said yes, just no funny business and to lock up and that return the keys when I get home.”

"Wait you live with Yamada?”

I yelled that a little loud and was a little too excited for that, it probably made him uncomfortable to be around a loud person like me.

"I was working on tactics today, hear let me show you!”

"I’ve been having trouble portraying Eric at this moment. It’s hard to show the love he feels for Ariel.”

I admitted to Shinso that love was hard to portray which is pretty embarrassing.

"I would try and draw out, or remember an experience for this scene, like your first kiss, or date, something romantic.”

Shinso suggested, I tried to rack my brain to find a replay that doesn’t include Shinso learning that I haven’t had my first kiss yet. But that’s what enders up coming out.

"I haven’t...”

"You haven’t ...what? Kissed someone? gone on date?”

Shinso sounds very shocked by this discovery. I just nodded my head not wanting to face him.

"But you’ve rehearsed this scene before, so you’ve kissed Jiro?”

“No, she was uncomfortable with that so we opted for stage kisses, so I’ve never had a first kiss, not a romantic one or a fake one from Jiro.”

“Whats a stage kiss?”

I’m shocked, my stage manager doesn’t know what a stage kiss is. He knows all these other terms for acting but he doesn’t know about a basic stage kiss. Well, now I get to be the smart one.

"Well, it’s so that actors don’t have to kiss but it tricks the audience. Basically one of the actors grabs the other’s face and kisses their thumbs.”

I was feeling pretty smug about knowing something Shinsou didn’t. Until he spoke again.

“I don’t understand. Maybe I’ll understand better if you showed me.”

“Sorry for laughing. You really haven’t had your first kiss.”

It’s that obvious to him, sure I told him but how can he tell how inexperienced I am from just a stage kiss.

“What’s that suppose to mean?”

I asked in a more rude tone than I meant to.

"Well you closed your eyes, like the whole time, and you were there longer than needed.”

“You’re supposed to close your eyes, right. That’s what they do in movies and like it’s bad if you open your eyes, or that’s what I’ve heard.”

Shinso nods at my statement but it seems to be in a teasing way.

I find his corrections on my stage kiss annoying, and I don’t try to hide it in my voice.

"Oh, so your some sort of kissing expert?”

“I wouldn’t call myself that, but I’m more experienced than you.”

I become more annoyed because his voice changed and he became more smug

"Well, it’s not my fault I haven’t had my first kiss!”

I yell at him.

“Neither is it mine.”

“Yes, it is because anyone who hasn’t tried to kiss me is at fault!”

I blurt out without think of consequences, and when I look at Shinso and his smug, flirtatious face I know that there’s going to be consequences.

“So if I kiss you then I can be free from being blamed?”

“How ….uu. I ho-how seri-serious is your.. Uhh ...your ..proposal?”

I sound like a mess. I watch as Shinso stands up from his chair moving closer to me. His left hand rests on my cheek. Leans in and whispers...

“As serious as you want it to be.”

We stand and stay in this position until Shinsou whispers more...

“I’m asking if I can kiss you.”

“Yes!”

We eventually pull away, both our faces tinted pink with blush. I’m not used to silence so I try to fill it.

"Wow, where did all that confidence come from?”

Shinso was often not as flirty as he has been for the past 10 minutes.

“Don’t know, it happens more than you’d expect.”

“So I think we did enough work for one day, so I guess it’s time to go home.”

“Do you need a ride? People shouldn’t walk this late at night, I don’t mind giving you a ride. “

I turn around and yell back...

"I don’t want to get you in trouble for being home late.”

“I’d probably get more in trouble if I let you walked, that’s how my dads are, so come on.”

He waves me over and I jog over to him.

Did I do it right? No.

Did he like it? No.

Does he regret it? Of course.

Was it just a moment thing? Yes.

Or does it have a deeper meaning? No.

Will it happen again? Never, don’t even get your hopes up.

Will we become more than friends? Idiot.

Did he hate it? How else is someone supposed to feel after kissing you?

Is Jiro right? Has she ever been wrong, no, and that hasn’t changed.

Will he stop being my friend? Probably and if not, it’s pity.

Why did he do it? To teach you, cause your a lonely idiot.

Does he like me? Not even a question, of course not, look at him, then yourself. He would never like you.

“Denki is this it?”

I’m broken from the negative thoughts. Shinso has already parked, I look out the window, and sure enough, it is my house.

“Yeah."

I step out and grab my stuff, I close the door, the window rolls down.

"Have a good day Denki.”

"Yeah, you to Shinso.”

I begin to walk away but he yells out a little more...

"Call me Hitoshi. Also, It wasn’t a moment thing, and I want to see where this leads.”

My back was turned the whole time he said talked, I stand there frozen in disbelief. It’s only when I hear his car drive away that I breathe again, my first breath also being a whisper of his name.

#class 1-a #shinkami #kamishin #hitoshi shinsou #denki kaminari #the unkissable prince #brooooo #katsuki bakugo #ejiro kirishima

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