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listentothisyoooh · 3 years

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Care For You; BC

A/N: This piece is +18, minors do not interact.

Summary: You come home from work, only to find your boyfriend, Chris, exhausted and drained. What can you say, when he asks you to make him feel better in your own special ways?

Warnings: sub Chan, soft dom female reader, hand jobs, orgasm control, edging, ropes, dirty talk, use of nicknames (mistress, little, pup, angel, etc), mention of the color system --

Word Count: 4.2k

“Hey, hi baby!” You whispered, sitting down on the edge of the mattress next to Chan’s rigid body, “When did you get home?” Caressing the tangled, short platinum blond locks sprawled on the pillow, you smiled down at his puffy, tired face; it probably wasn’t a good thing that you weren’t answered by a smile.

“An hour, I guess.” He rasped, his cords rugged with sleepiness and something else –something you didn’t quite like. The cool, white sheets covered him up to his shoulders, leaving no patch of pale skin open for your sight, and the faded shade of raspberry on his perky lips further demonstrated just how tired the man was.

“Oh honey,” You cooed, leaning over Chan to plant a kiss on his temple while he lay on his side, facing where you sat, “you seem exhausted. Are you alright? Did something happen?” You couldn’t really help the way your brows knotted as a sign of worry. Using arms as pillars next to your boyfriend’s figure, you bowed above him; ceiling cream lights now blocked away from his sight and he could look up at you with those wide, glossy eyes, the peachy gleam of the bedside lamp reflecting from them.

“I’m okay, babe, don’t worry;” He assured, settling on his back gently, “It was just—a very, very long day!” A light laugh puffing out of him, he pulled on the sheets to conceal the lower part of his face from you, eyes still locked with yours. Chan was always soft –so soft, gentle and sweet, and that was why you just couldn’t stop showering him with light, lingering touches, one now being granted for him across his left cheekbone and the side of his eye by your thumb; he seemed to really enjoy it, lids flowing down and expression turning into a relaxed, almost blank one.

“Anything I can do, Channie?” Your gentle question fluttered his eyes open, “want me to make you something? Or get you some pills to help you sleep?” Sometimes, when he was too spent, it became frustratingly difficult for him to fall asleep, so it wouldn’t be far from ordinary if he were to have the same problem now; puffy eyes, flushed cheeks and tousled locks only asked for a bit of rest.

“Can you take care of me?” His quiet voice rose from beneath the sheets, his linear eyes staring right into yours, making your chest quiver alongside that innocent little request.

“Of course!” You smiled, “What do you need? I can give you a massage…” Your suggestion was met with his negative nod, the grips over the edge of the cover tightening.

“No,” He gulped, “can you take care of me, mistress?” There was already a certain breathlessness in his words which only made you grit your teeth; he looked so devastatingly vulnerable, looking up at you with hope, exhaustion and plea in his stare.

“Aren’t you a little too tired for that, pup?” Was the last thing you wanted to say to him, the last thing he wanted to hear too; shaking his head no, Chan squirmed in place while waiting for you to answer to the desperate request in a way that would satisfy both of you.

Instead, you just smiled. Cupping his right, warm cheek, you lightly pinched its plumpness and traced your hand lower unto his neck and chest, pulling that nuisance of a fabric away from those beautiful lips and skin. He visibly gulped at your movements –at being scanned by your sharp eyes, but made no objections whatsoever; the easy compliance egged you on to inch his figure further southwards, fingers dancing on the white sheet. It seemed like he was bare under the covers, and when your hand finally clasped at the side of his right thigh and absorbed the gentle body heat, your assumptions turned out to be accurate, slapping a smirk on your face.

“Are you naked, little?” You asked, stare switching between Chan’s agape lips and anticipating, bright eyes; he did nothing, as if waiting for your sly hand to figure that out itself. “Why is that?” Your gentle tone tried to coax the words out of the man, “Were you being naughty when I was at work?”

“No!” It was adorable how the reply cut off his quiet sigh, being shot out to convince you, “No, I was just waiting for you, and… I fell asleep.” He explained, his covered chest heaving out of slight nervousness. A light chuckle sprang out of you while you flew down to peck his pretty lips.

“Relax, pup; I believe you.” You assured, “It would be fine if you did, though;” Leaning down on your elbow, you peppered lingering kisses near his mouth, your free hand caressing his bicep from over the covers, “you’ve been so good lately—you deserve a treat, both from me and yourself.” By the way his cheek flexed under your lips, you could tell he was smiling. “So, let’s give you a treat then, angel!” He shivered when your breath rubbed on the sensitive spot under his ear.

As soon as you backed away and got off of the bed, Chan rose up to sit on his butt and see what you were doing, the white cover dropping unto his lap; knowing that you’re being watched, you made your way to the small, antique chest placed on top of a console table next to your closet, and opened its lid, eyes immediately landing on the dark jade bundle of silk rope as well as the small tube of expensive, cinnamon scented lubricant, both of them sitting brazenly over the extra pile of naughty toys and accessories! You grabbed the objects with content, having already formed a plan in your head while expecting eyes bore into your back; you threw the equipment on the mattress right next to the man’s feet, fighting back a smirk when your short glance caught him staring at them and gulping. The chair next to the ajar door welcomed your buttoned shirt and jeans to leave you alone with the tight red top and black panties, watching you silently set a course to your boyfriend back on the bed.

“Are you feeling verbal today?” You asked the young man whose eyes obviously swayed over your figure without any intention. It took a dazed, short while for Chan to answer, but he finally did after a gulp and pursing his lips.

“I don’t know…” He shook his head when you sat in front of his folded legs on the mattress, putting a calf between your locations; his slumped, pale body was screaming for your attention in the most innocent way possible, which wasn’t all that rare for the man, as he, deep down, was very innocent, despite what he liked to show his fans and or had to portray of himself because of his career and his position in their group. It hadn’t really been mentioned yet, but you were aware of the heartwarming fact that you were the only person entrusted with this side of his character –a side he himself cherished dearly yet had always tried to suppress, until meeting you, of course.

“Well then,” You caressed his puffy cheek, pressing your forehead on his and giving him an Eskimo kiss, “we just have to find out, I guess!” Your soft chuckle mixed with the one Chan let out, and you found the moment intimate and soothing enough to begin kissing the man, allowing his passionate lips to gently dance over yours for a while before adding your tongue into the mixture and earning light huffs and sighs from his waving throat.

“Fold your arms on each other.” Guiding his hands, you helped him hold his left forearm in front of his abdomen and place the right one on top of it, wrapping his fingers around his elbows to show satisfaction for the plan; catching the wait in the slouched figure, you got a grip of the ropes behind your rear and started your rather enticing mission of binding the man’s arms together, knots and rings gently kissing his pale skin.

He was more than compliant, once or twice pecking your face when you leaned too close to tighten a knot or readjust a bundle; his breaths were even yet deep, and in between all of that, you could clearly witness a tent forming on the sheet sprawled on his lap, slow yet bold. His mind was taken by your scent, the close but still far away heat of your embrace, and he couldn’t help the way his body reacted to your light, accidental contacts across his arms; dear lord, was he touch-starved!

“All good?” You asked, finally finished with your work. His simple nod was good enough of an answer.

The brightness which reflected from the white covers on the bed turned him even paler and that allowed the jade rope to show off its elegant color on Chan’s bare figure. He looked stunning, blond hair sticking out in this direction or that, lips swollen and red from the excessive nervous biting; there was nothing holding you back from lifting up his chin and crashing your mouth unto his, having him nailed in place by a heavy grip on his thigh. He huffed over your face shakily as your hand plowed in between his locks which you now realized were damp; he must’ve showered after coming home from the studio, you guessed.

“You like this rope; don’t you, puppy?” You giggled, leaving a gentle kiss on his perky bottom lip, trailing down to his jaw and throat while pulling his head back. “Is it the fabric? Or the color?” Your question drowned in the dip of his neck vein as you sucked lightly on it, hearing him whimper impatiently and wriggle in place.

“Color.” He replied simply, trying to gulp with the uncomfortable position of his head. Your tongue, tracing wet lines on the distinct veins and bulges beneath his sensitive skin, made him tense uncontrollably; he was already so worked up, despite being tired.

“Yeah?” Your teasing tone sent a shiver into his shoulders, “I was thinking about getting you that mini wand vibrator you showed me the other day –the jade one…” Looking back up into his eyes, he panted lightly, “Good, yeah?” He nodded once again, not trusting his voice to make an appearance, making you smile with adoration, “What’s so special about jade anyway?” The man’s heart-rate suddenly picked up and he leaned his forehead above your ear out of embarrassment for what he was gonna confess to.

“It was the color of your underwear the first time you… um—the first time I met mistress!” He tried his best to voice his explanation in the least flustering way, however hard it was. The confession was accompanied by his little hiss when you giggled and dragged the covers off of his figure, making sure it created the slowest, roughest amount of friction and grip.

“Oh, right…!” You mused, pulling your head away only inches; he didn’t seem too pleased about that, but watching you lean forward on your left arm nailed next to his hip and looking up at him with a little smile was all he could think about at the moment. Your index finger on the free hand began drawing circles on his hard tip, “That was a good night, wasn’t it baby?” He was too busy staring into your eyes with knotted brows and a bitten lip, obviously tensing to prevent from moving under your touch; seeing his composure, you massaged the head of his member with your thumb and index finger, gliding them down to its edge and dragging back up without haste but with good pressure. “You were bad, really bad—remember?” Smirking, at the way he kept pursing his lips while looking down at you, you came to the conclusion that he probably wasn’t going to be verbal that day; he rarely was, to be honest –only when he was too pent up or maybe too cocky, which didn’t happen all that often, but it was worth the experiment. He might not have liked to be talkative at these times, but he damn sure liked being talked to; he had admitted so more than once, dialogues and monologues being half of the pleasure for him.

Gluing your lips on his chin, you felt him shake as the tip of your finger pressed unto his red slit and slid back and forth, eliciting short whimpers from his agape mouth; he squirmed and squirmed but with no apparent aim, since he neither tried to settle efficiently under your teasing touch, nor did he back away from it to protest. He kept staring at you as if there was something he awaited, gulping and gulping and gulping!

“Lie back and spread your legs for me, sweetie.” You crawled back to grant the man space for his task, the one he fulfilled right after hearing your command.

The now cool spot on the mattress welcomed his muscly back and the sheets straightened when his feet dragged away from each other to make a perfectly fitting nest in between his thighs for you. He had to strain his neck to look over at you, so you decided to help him out by hovering above his torso and grabbing your own pillow to jam it behind his shoulders, creating a better angle for his vision. It was the hardest thing to resist kissing his beautiful lips and you saw no point in it anyway, diving down to steal a few noisy, wet pecks from your boyfriend, retreating into your place near his groin next.

“Mistress has taught you well, hasn’t she?” You purred, kneeling between his legs and sliding them over your thighs to earn the closest spot possible, “You used to be so hesitant –so, so impatient too,” He kept licking his lips while gazing at you, his deep breaths egging you on, “but now look at you; a good,” Your palms slowly wrapped around his length and started screwing over its upper and lower half in opposite directions, “good little angel for me.” His head tossed back from the combination of your words and movements; he was fully hard and flushed.

A low whine echoed in the room when you detached your hands from him and grabbed the lonely bottle from over the mattress instead; the moment its contents poured on your palm and released their exotic scent, a breathy, whisper of your nickname rose also, Chan staring down at what you were holding. He was crazy about this smell –this certain smell that had always awakened a comfortable haziness inside him, enough to make it impossible for him to stand being in the dorm when Felix was baking croissants; it almost acted like an aphrodisiac for him, you had yet to understand why, and it would be a lie if one were to say you didn’t abuse this little effect!

“Red if it gets too much, yellow if you need a breath.” You repeated his safe words, earning a nod, and went back to clasping your palms on his member just like before, copying the same motion again; he shut his eyes with content, sighing when your warmth finally touched him, drenched in a scent he loved dearly.

In a matter of seconds, he was already mewling, dripping with precum, disheveled locks being plunged into the pillows. His state only worsened when your fingers formed a thin ring and placed it right beneath the prominent edge of his tip and started the classic vibrating motion on its ablaze nerves; a motion he had grown used to, no matter how torturous it was. Giving him short intervals, you managed to earn a glimpse of his face when he looked back down on your hand, eyes narrow and cheeks flushed –his entire upper body flushed.

“Am I bothering you, Christopher?” Hearing his complete name, he clenched his jaw and shook his head violently, most displeased with the full stop of your hands.

“No, no mistress, keep going!” His words were rushed and hoarse as he took a second to recount what he had said, “Could you continue?” He restructured his sentence after witnessing the raise of your brow, and his heaving chest, his sweet, calm voice was just too good to be ignored.

“Ah!” You cooed, “Such a polite little pup, huh? You’ve learned how to earn my favor, haven’t you? Yes, you have, gorgeous!” He was already too far away from sanity to comprehend your praises as your once again vibrating fingers knocked moans out of him one after another, having his legs wrap around your hips with the constant, cruel edging.

He couldn’t decide between watching the scene of your connection or throwing his head back to slap whimpers at the headboard; when he landed eyes on your hands skillfully tapping on the underside of his aching length through palms, all he could think of was finishing right then and there –it was shameful, how sensitive he was to the littlest of touches.

“Hey!” Your stern voice brought him back to his senses, making him stop gritting his teeth and look back down at you, “No hurting yourself!” Your frown confused him, your words too, but when you gestured towards his hands with the raise of your brows, he got the message; he’d become so lost in the on and off of the pleasure in his gut that he’d forgotten to notice the sharp pain of his nails digging into the side of his elbow.

This was the best opportunity –no, excuse, to frustrate him in the ways he liked, or usually did; you could only hope he’d like it now, too. Sliding your hands off of his weeping length, you kept a hard gaze on his linear, shiny eyes and placed your hands limp on your thighs, palms upwards to avoid leaving the mess of lube and precum on yourself.

“I told you never to hurt yourself, didn’t I?” His flushed face fell at your words, catching the serious worry on your features, “Don’t you wanna be good, Christopher?”

God, he hated his name when it left your mouth! He hated being called by his name when it came to you, because it never meant anything good. He felt cold all of a sudden, without your touch or a trace of your affection, and being naked was much, much more embarrassing. His chest was already heaving.

“I do!” He managed to voice out, awkwardly hoarse, “I am good, Mistress; always!” After all this time, it still flustered him to call you that certain name.

“Then why did you ignore my explicit order?” Yes, you were making a much bigger deal out of this than it was; the marks weren’t even deep, he knew that, you knew that.

“It won’t happen again –you have my word, Mistress… Please—“ He stopped to gulp past his dry throat, still looking into your soul with pleading eyes; he looked so tired, yet he never once dreamed of protesting –not to your work anyway.

“Please what, boy?” Your question had its sharp edges –sharper than Chan liked it. Was there any affection in boy? None he could feel, no –it felt colder than his own name.

“I wanna be good for Mistress;” He breathed out with knotted brows, “can I have one more chance? Please, I want—“ His arms wiggled desperately in between the rope, “I need to cum—“ He could feel fire searing his ears, “Can I, please? Only Mistress knows how to give that to me…” Was it enough? Did he have to go deeper? He couldn’t tell based off of your blank expression.

“Hmm…” A smile creept on your face just as the hum was released from your throat, “Such good manners!” You praised, lifting one hand to lightly drag over his pale, beautifully shaped thigh and finally plant around his cock again –a short gasp being his response, “Such a well-behaved little cub!” He clearly twitched at that! Your palm dragged up and down his veins and he was once again, jelly at your touch, “Who taught this little pup how to be so good and polite?” His moan interrupted your question when your other hand wrapped two fingers around the sensitive edge of his tip. One second he’d push his hips into the mattress to desert your touch, and the other, he’d push up to pump into your airy fist. “Christopher!”

“Mistress did!” His shaky answer came only after your call brought him back to earth and snapped his eyes open. “Only Mistress can tell pup to be good –he always listens to you, only you Mistress—oh, fuck, don’t stop –please!” His sweet voice became high-pitched whines as soon as the ring of fingers around his tip began vibrating again; squirming and spasming uncontrollably, he began throwing his hips up to feel more than the brush of your thumb on his base and the vibration of your fingers on his moistened head. “No—no no, ’m gonna cum—is it okay? Can—“ The hoarse groans piercing his mewls wouldn’t let him finish his thoughts, and your fingers weren’t helping his intellect either!

The bulging veins on his stretched back neck were ripe for marking and the way his pale skin had become many shades redder out of frustration and tension could only mean one thing: he’s few seconds away from covering his stomach with white.

What was cuter than normal, day-to-day Chris, was this Chris; the one writhing and begging and whining under the gentlest touch you could grant him –the one actually able to cum from that meager touch! His voice wouldn’t lower, making way for shameless babbles and incoherent pleas, and you just wanted to put him –and your cramping hand– out of misery.

“It’s okay, Little,” You murmured, still able to reach his ear from between his own noises, “you can cum in five…” Hearing the start of his countdown, Chan lowered his head to look at you, just like all the times he was close; he wanted to see you, and more importantly, he wanted you to see him lose it all. “Four…”

“Count faster!” His fingers were now somehow wrapped in the thick threads of the rope and tugged roughly; you could feel the way the mattress dipped eagerly behind you as Chan’s feet pressed on it with curled toes.

“Three…” You smirked, knowing full well his need for ‘being good’ is way more prioritized to his body than getting what he wants. He could always take what you gave him –every single time; he loved and yearned for the care that came after his success, he wouldn’t change it with anything. “Two…” A small, ecstatic mewl left him when your thumb caressed his slit rhythmically, body trembling out of the little stimulation that was successfully driving him insane.

“One.”

He managed to keep his teary eyes open as his mouth fell apart wider and wider for a scratchy moan to swim into the room with nothing holding it back whatsoever; a big, irritating knot came finally undone in his burning stomach and then there it was, hot strings of white connecting the skin of his purple tip to his abs, your fingers still delicately wrapped around his twitching cook.

There was a gentle thump when he let his head fall on the pillow and the way his chest rose and fell seemed kind of painful; he, on the other hand, looked as blissed out as he possibly could, sweat gleaming on his temples.

“Everything okay?” You massaged his member carefully to help it soften sooner and when your hands eventually left him, he huffed out.

“I’m good, all good.” He panted, glancing down at you lazily, catching your satisfied smile.

His mind kept slipping in and out of reality, and the next thing he felt was the warmth of a kiss on his forehead as cold, wet wipes danced on his belly.

“You did so well.” You whispered, taking advantage of the close vicinity, “Take a nap. I’ll order some food and we can watch something later before bed.” His hazy eyes stared up at you, nodding when your fingers slid over the knots over his biceps to rid him of the restraints.

“Is noodle soup okay?” You asked as your steps lead you to the chest to put back the items you’ve retrieved earlier, “Or maybe we should get tomato?” Turning around, you were met with the unconscious figure of your boyfriend, half covered with white sheets, face as puffy and soft as spring clouds.

You couldn’t help but coo and return to his side to pull the sheets higher over his naked body, and when he made no movement at your touch, you just knew he was knocked out cold; and that meant he’d be up in two-three hours, hungry as a starved wolf, and he will need any kind of food he can find –so soup is probably not the best idea to satisfy Bang Christopher Chan!

#bang chan #bang chan smut #sub!skz #stray kids smut #skz smut #skz #stray kids #sub bang chan #sub chan #sub dom

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knuffled · 3 years

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some writing tips (pt. one)

warning: this is a long post bc brevity isn’t one of my strong suits. also another disclaimer: these are just things i have learned/have worked for me. feel free to ignore them if they don’t help you!

1. the crossroads of plot and character

there will often come times when writing where the plot must move in a direction that the characters don’t want to follow. this usually results in characters being forced to act in ways that are not congruous with who they are, making them feel wooden or inconsistent to the reader.

one thing that has really helped me is some advice i heard from the writer’s of breaking bad. they said that one thing that really helped them was to ask “where is character x’s head at?”, or basically “what is my character thinking/feeling at this point in the story?”. it is almost always superior to have character drive plot instead of the other way around, so this question can help solve the issue of plot not gelling with character. i like to ask myself this question and reorganize the plot around my answer, and i have found it very useful for combatting content-based writer’s block.

2. rethinking character flaws

i have only recently learned how to better write character flaws, and i have found that they are huge for making a character feel real. whenever i used to think about flaws, i thought of them as huge, character-warping traits that basically defined an individual (example: prince zuko), but i always struggled to write them myself. lately, i have come view them as subtle beliefs or tendencies my character has that frames the way they interact with the world and others, and that has been massively helpful for me.

as sleazy as it is, i’m going to use my own writing as an example because i don’t read books anymore lmfao. anyhow, in my fic, “just practice”, annabeth has a tendency to be self-absorbed, which manifests in her assuming everyone thinks the way she does. nothing impressive, really. we see a few examples of it in action sprinkled throughout the story, and at first, it seems harmless, but the more we see of it, the more we realize what a huge issue it is in the context of the narrative as a whole. we see that it cripples the way that she communicates with others, how it has led her to hurting people she cares about because she assumed things about them, etc.

the fic is written from her perspective, so when she interacts with people, we can see that she genuinely doesn’t mean any harm. she just has a certain way of thinking. but in reality, the way that her flaw impacts others in the story becomes a huge source of conflict. it requires people to call her out and make her reflect on things. this is something that i think a lot of people can relate to. pretty much everyone acts with good intentions, but in reality they could be causing a lot of harm to those around them without meaning to.

i have found that using subtle flaws like this can be really helpful in making a believable character. i would suggest looking at people in your own life and their flaws as material you can use. most of them aren’t prince zuko - they have much subtler flaws about them that still have a huge role in who they are. once you have a flaw in mind for a character, it should inform their psychological make up, in either a minor or major way. i like to make this influence as subtle as i possibly can because that is what i personally find to be most realistic (note: by influence, i mean the way that the flaw manifests itself).

these flaws can be used to completely drive the plot depending on your genre. romance, young adult, literary fiction, etc. are all great candidates. for example, “catcher in the rye” is literally a plotless story about a teenage boy navigating his flaws.

here is some additional advice: show examples of the character’s flaws in action, first without drawing much attention to them, but with each new instance, crank up the impact of the flaw. this results in a natural escalation that flows really well with character development.

3. choices and consequences

foreshadowing is one of the most important tools a writer has to creating a satisfying narrative. in contrast, poor foreshadowing can ruin a narrative. nearly everyone can attest to how a deus ex machina or “subversion” completely derailed an otherwise good story (looking at your Game of Thrones Season 8). at the same time, foreshadowing is really hard to do well because of how much foresight it requires. outliners have the luxury of accounting for this before they write, but as a discovery writer, foreshadowing can feel impossible during your first draft.

that being said, i have personally found a work-around as a discovery writer for this exact problem, and that answer is to have narrative consequences. pretty much every plot point in your story should have consequences for the rest of the narrative going forward. this makes it a lot more easy for a discovery writer to write a better first draft - you just have to think about what how current plot point impacts the story going forward.

example: character gets into a foolish fight and loses their sword-fighting arm. now for the rest of the narrative, they can no longer rely on their prowess as a swordsman.

the neat thing about consequences is that you don’t have to plan ahead of time, but they still function similarly to foreshadowing.

4. foreshadowing proper

okay, but what about actual foreshadowing, you might ask. i think this is really hard to give concrete advice for, but here are some things that have helped me. i tend to have a lose idea of really major plot points that need to happen in my stories (example: the kara conversation in chapter seven of just practice). then, i try and think about how i can lay a trail of bread crumbs for that plot point to happen and reverse engineer my way there (example: chapter six, kara is mentioned by annabeth’s friends as having done something unforgivable to percy).

more specifically, i like to use character flaws as set up for plot points (this ties into the idea of consequences above). example: annabeth is increasingly frustrated by percy’s hiding secrets from her, stoking her already inquisitive nature to a boiling point, leading her to confront kara when she gets the opportunity, even though she knows she shouldn’t.

i primarily write drama/romance, so using character flaws as foreshadowing is my favored way of foreshadowing. i don’t think it translates as well for a mystery or a fantasy, but in those cases, laying bread crumbs still helps. in the harry potter books, rowling was often fond of burying important clues in irrelevant information. example: in book two, there is a brief mention of tom riddle’s diary in ginny’s cauldron when lucius malfoy slips it there at diagon alley.

another thing she does is to include information against the backdrop of another, more urgent plot point. example: in book four, harry tries to steal from professor snape for a task in the triwizard tournament or something, and snape accuses him of stealing ingredients to make polyjuice potion but it was barty crouch jr. who needed it to disguise himself as professor moody. you don’t pay much attention at the time because the tournament is more pressing.

#this took for fucking ever #please reblog this im actually begging #if it does well i will do more #i have tried to include examples but i barely read so big oof #i barely remember harry potter so dont murder me for getting plot points wrong #i bolded the important take aways as well #feel free to ask me questions if something was unclear

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kth1 · 4 years

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Piquant [Jungkook x Reader]

Pi-quant / adjective: having a pleasantly sharp taste or appetizing flavor.

⟶ Credit: @kimtaehyunq ⟶ Genre: Smut | 21+ | Vampire AU | One Shot ⟶ Warnings: explicit, sub!jungkook/whiny lil thing, vamp!jk, oral (M&F), fingering, blood/blood play, biting, period blood, noona kink, adult content, bondage(M), unprotected sex, language, semi overstimulation, semi cock-warming, creampie, squirting, roommates to ?, multiple orgasms, etc ⟶ WC: 12k ⟶ Summary: Jungkook is your awesome roommate who also happens to be a vampire. There’s nothing wrong with that of course, even with the playful tactics he does to fluster you. Until you realize those quipping taunts meant more than he led on. ⟶ Teaser: “He savored your flavor; his mouth finally got the taste it has been curious about for a long time now. He wanted more before his taste-testing was over, and he knew exactly how to get it.” ⟶ Author’s note: Hello everyone, this story is a precious gift to @jkeuphoriadreamland – as Yoly fully enjoys a bit of a whiny brat version of Jungkook. And NOONA KINKS. I tried my best to write him as a sub, and I truly hope you enjoy this fic. Nervous as all hell because you are a wonderful, glorious writer; and gifting you a fic of my own makes me kasdjhf. Anyways, this is unedited bc reasons - I had fun being your Peach Peep and writing this for you! (I didn’t mean to make it as long as it did… oops. xoxo)

“You smell pretty tasty.”

“Well, I’m not!” You retorted.

“Let me have a quick taste? That’s all I’m asking for.” Jungkook requested.

“Koo, no! You have plenty of bottles of blood in the fridge – just heat some up.”

Jungkook snorted with disgust, “Tch, that blood is synthetic. It’s not as good as straight from the source.” His finger trailed up the inside of your wrist, his body taking a step closer to yours.

You snatched your wrist back to yourself quickly, glaring up at your pest of a roommate. “Oh no no no – Jeon! You stop that!” Jungkook took another step, a grin present on his sculpted face. You respond with a pointed finger, raising your eyebrows in question. He wanted to play this game again.

“But Noona, please!” He whined with a pout. The vowels drawing out with the sentence with a childish tone, but his eyes shared something deep and dark. Thirst.

“I am not your bloodbag Jeon Jungkook!” your accusatory finger now prodding his chest.

“True, you’re not. But you are my friend.” He smiled, cupping your hands in his, “friends help another out.” He let out a little giggle when he saw your flustered face.

You scoffed, laughing as your roommate continued to plea. “You don’t need help! You have blood in the kitchen! B negative to be exact. It’s a fresh stock!” You shooed him, ushering him to turn around and pushing him towards the opening of the kitchen.

“Noona!” he droned again.

Oddly enough, Jungkook adored using this nickname towards you. Even though he is a hundred and something years older than you, his ripened age of vampire is in his early twenties – when he was changed into one, he found it humorous to call you Noona because your human years have surpassed his frozen age. Thus resulting, in his mind, you being ‘older’ than him. That, and the fact you get flustered up over the nickname.

There’s no doubt in your mind that your pesky little vampire friend could overpower you at any second if he really wanted to, but there was a firm alliance between the two of you. He has control over his hunger after all, he’s not a savage. Just because Jungkook is a vampire doesn’t mean he was a monster. For years vampires have lived among the human race, they aren’t out to rule the world or anything. Just trying to survive like every other creature.

Still, he and you were good friends. Actually, when you first met him you developed one of the biggest crushes on the mysterious vampire – but that feeling subsided drastically when you realized more about his lifestyle.

The two of you met through friends of friends. Trustworthy, as you had his back and he had yours. And now, you two shared an apartment in the busy city of Seoul, making ends meet as he works at the local vamp lounge, being a bartender. You wallow yourself forever in an office desk job providing customer service over a phone and through your computer.

“I swear to god if you ask me one more time, I’m going to throw my silver jewelry at you!” you threatened. “And stop calling me Noona!”

He scrunched his nose, annoyed at your rejection. “Ahh, you’re no fun.” He grumbled under his breath, turning away and departing towards the kitchen.

“It’s my blood! My property!” you yelled to the back of his dark ruffled hair, watching it sway with each of his steps before it vanished behind the wall.

“Then stop bleeding around me! Don’t get another paper cut and I wouldn’t ask!” he shouted from the other room.

The shuffling noises from the fridge to the microwave was audible enough to hear. A hint that he’s reheating a bottle of blood. Luckily for him, you were nice enough to stop by the convenience store on your way back home to pick him up a fresh batch of blood. Picking up his favorite flavor for his special acquired taste.

You looked down at the coffee table that was littered with a pile of mail, some ripped open and some still untouched. Your eyes darted at the piece of envelope that was sharp enough to break through your skin and cause a nasty little cut. You mentally scolded the piece for causing a stinging pain in your index finger. The irony of the rent notice cutting into your wallet was the act paper that cut into your flesh.

With your hand still close by, you examined the cracked cut that adorned a leaky line of red with a bead of blood threatening to drip off. “Wouldn’t ask.” You mocked Jungkook, speaking to yourself. “Oh please – you’re such a begger.” You sucked on your finger, attempting to take the small sting away and ridding your blood while you continued to reorganized the mail on the table.

The audible footsteps of Jungkook resonated as he approached back in the living room, bottle attached to his mouth. You glanced over your shoulder to see what was up with his lingering, and he answered your gaze with narrowed cut, stink-eyes. Sipping bitterly hard on his warm thick fluid drink, he rolled his eyes and continued down towards his bedroom.

He heard what you said.

Jungkook was gone, a scheduled vacation to meet up with some old friends for the weekend. You have the whole apartment to yourself for once, and during this time you had an untimely visit from your aunt flow. It tainted your mood, unwanted pains and cramps forcing you out of whack. Your weekend consisted of kissing your lips to Ben & Jerry’s selection of ice cream flavors, watching movies and downing your own dosage of Advil and other pain killers.

The apartment wafted with your heady scent. Something you couldn’t pick up with human smell alone but to a vampire like Jungkook, he could pick it up instantly. Like a shark in a water, he can catch whiff of all kinds of scents with those advanced heightened senses.

You were fast asleep in dreamland, a heating pad atop your stomach that lulled your cramps at an ease. Curse the world that during this period, your cramps were ungodly painful, and you felt like complete and utter shit.

What you didn’t know was that your roommate had decided to cut his group hang out short – coming back home in the middle of the night. Not like he couldn’t come and go as he pleased – it was his house too. But tonight, it was slightly… different.

He stepped up the stairwell in the apartment complex, fidgeting with the ring of keys in hand. A strange smell entered his nose, something foreign yet so similar to him. It forced him to halt his actions, standing still while looking down the corridor. It was coming from this floor – his floor.

Jungkook reached level 3, turning his way down to his apartment with the scent leading him all the way to the front door. A succulent aroma enticing him, ticking his hunger. He soon realized that sweet pungent smell that he zoned into was your scent – your blood was lingering in the airway in a heavy dosage.

“Oh fuck!” he unlocked the apartment door in a rush, speedily running in as fast as the bulk of your musk entered his sinuses. Immediately Jungkook thought the worst, thinking something happened to you; you were hurt and bleeding out. Were you okay? Why are you bleeding?

His feet brought him to your bedroom door, “Y/n! Y/n!?” he’s frantic. The moment Jungkook busted your bedroom door open almost off its hinges, he was relieved to see you intact and unharmed – seeing your body sprawled out across your mattress fast asleep.

But the sudden commotion jolted you up out of your slumber, the booming sound of your door flinging open and Jungkook’s voice calling out your name startled you.

“Kook?” You whipped your head towards him, a groggy voice to match your terrible bedhead you sported.

“Shit, sorry! Fuck, I didn’t mean to wake you! I just – I,” his thoughts were cut off, that rambling of his mouth seized when you shifted yourself on the bed, rolling the comforter around. The blanket that sealed the majority of your scent now accidentally releasing in a wave, the sweet tangy smell hitting Jungkook face first.

His hand latched to his nose, plugging his ability to smell you any further. Internally he was fighting his natural urge to go for it, to have a taste of this juicy aroma that was causing his mouth to water and fangs to sharpen. This impulse was worse than any other time, like when you got papercuts or accidentally nicked yourself with a knife. You always had a peculiar smell, something that made him curious, and now he’s invested.

He knows he needs to leave the area, go get himself a bottle of blood or find a unfortunate prey on the street, quickly. He can’t touch you; he shouldn’t touch you – but god do you smell so good and your scent was incredibly inviting.

His backpack slunk off his shoulder to the floor with a thud, the intoxicating smell was so deadly that it was forcing a haze of thirst run over him. “I thought you were hurt.” He confessed.

You rubbed your eyes to remove any forming crusts, “Hurt? What? I’m not hurt. That’s why you woke me up?”

Jungkook shook his head, staring over at your confused and puzzled face. “N – no Y/n, you’re bleeding. Like a lot.”

It took moments for you to register what he was implying. Widening your eyes when you finally came to realization. “Oh no… shit. Sorry Koo. I’m fine I swear.”

You scurried, flipping the covers over you to witness a decently large stain that had accumulated through your night shorts. You bled through your bottoms, something you haven’t done in years, yet mother nature is always good at being unpredictable. You sighed, face palming yourself to how you practically ruined the fabrics and it will take a miracle to clean them completely.

Jungkook froze, all instincts fighting to break free the moment his sensory eyes laid on the darkened patch that decorated between your legs. His fist tightened; his body completely stiff with blown out eyes. “Run Jungkook, fucking run.” He ordered himself internally.

You carefully moved your body around, attempting not to get any more blood on your sheets. Thankfully you didn’t have any cramps right now. Typically, you were very cautious around your roommate during times like these. Plugging yourself up with tampons from beginning to end of your cycle, refusing to stay around him or the apartment for too long, even he would take time away to give you your space. It was out of respect for another, established as a primary rule before you two signed your contract to the apartment.

As you hobbled closer towards the door in which Jungkook stood, you couldn’t understand why he refused to move out of your way.

“Kook, I have to go to the bathroom.” You seek to brush pass him but Jungkook’s hand snatched your arm – grip strong.

In a slow raspy voice, he breathed, “Noona.”

You blinked up at him, watching a flicker of red flash over his darkened orbs. You felt caught, trapped by his intense stare. His build was larger than yours, almost menacing when his body hardened to block the frame of the doorway.

“Jungkook… relax…” You felt the temperature of your body shift. Should you be worried? Scared? Embarrassed?

“I can’t.” his other hand held onto your free arm, slowly backing you away from the door with trembling steps. His eyes frantically searched your face, pupils wide while the chocolate brown of his eyes shaded to a vibrant red.

His eyes were demanding, a scare or warning that there was no going back from this. You’ve witnessed this look before when you visited the bar he worked at, when his eyes catch onto a delicious treat in the crowd. It won’t be easy to escape this situation. Jungkook was invested in getting what he wanted, what he was craving…

“This – this would be weird. It’s – Jungkook listen to me for a second.” The back of your legs touched the edge of the bed. “Jungkook!”

He hummed, glossing his eyes over you once more. His tone beckoning you to continue.

“This is period blood!”

He shrugged, rubbing his hands along the expanse of your arms, not allowing you to sit down just yet. He can feel the warmth of your body, how you are much warmer than usual. “It’ll just taste a little off. It’s not like I haven’t had it before.”

“Ew, Kook! No that’s gross! Like, do vampires actually enjoy? This?” You tried wiggling yourself out of his grasp. But he stepped closer – closing whatever distance there was between the two of you. You swallowed thickly, feeling quite intimidated and small under his presence. But you took note, his tight chest now flexed in front of you and hands held firm to your arms as if he was holding onto dear life.

“Y/n.” Jungkook whispers, leaning closer to your head. His phantom breath tickled the shell of your ear, “Please let me have a taste. Can I please…?”

It sounded so sensual coming from him. A shiver running down the base of your spine from the odd request. His hands now ghosted your hips, fingers etching a tingly sensation into your exposed skin. He carefully played with the waist band of your shorts – dipping a finger under it in a teasingly way.

Jungkook was controlling himself to all extremes. He knows he can’t attack you the way his nature wants him to, you’re his friend after all. He shouldn’t be stalking towards you like this. He cannot ruin you the way you’re ruining him right now. But he’s surely thinking about it.

You felt shy, nervous but oddly turned on by your roommate’s intimidation. All his persistence, his pleading whines slowly getting to you. You should feel disgusted – right? The idea of blood, your blood, your period blood, being taste tested by your friendly vampire. Which makes you question yourself even more when you tell Jungkook, “Okay…”

You’re shocked and so was Jungkook. Your confirmation is all he needed to hear, so he didn’t need to stop his action of snaking his hand down your shorts, slowly trailing his fingers towards your core.

A small gasp escaped him the moment the freshly soaked patch on your undies came in contact with the pad of his index finger. The urgency of pushing his finger down onto the cloth to collect whatever residue he could overwhelmed him.

It was an odd feeling – your roommate exploring his wondering hand down your shorts. What you didn’t expect was how it still felt somewhat good. The sudden contact of your lady bits now getting attention not by your own hand, but of someone else’s. Causing your body to jump with a sexual alert and now you’re the one holding onto Jungkook’s arms as if you were going to buck under him.

Jungkook brought his fingers back up to meet his face as he inspected the redden stain that now coated the tips of his digits. A strange manner – something no human in their right mind would do – Jungkook sniffed at your remainder. Naturally this would be so revolting for a human. But Jungkook is a blood-sucking vampire. Any form of human blood wired him up and he lived off of it, literally.

You watched him with your bottom lip between your teeth. You watched as he stuck his fingers in his mouth and exhaled a very audible groan thought his nose.

“Fuuuuck, Noona…” his tongue dragged between his fingers, then lips to savor the flavor. Suddenly his hand disappeared back to the waistband of your shorts, this time less hesitantly now. “You tasted like this all along?” He speculated while advising you to sit down, tugging harshly at your bottoms.

You nervously fumbled trying to catch his hands before he could hoist your bottoms off. He was fast, desperate for more. “Kook! You said a taste!” you squealed.

“I’m not finished tasting!” he growled. A more aggressive side taking over his demeanor. In his swift act of removing your bottoms you heard the ripping of seams. Fabrics pulling apart. Then your used panties and shorts were discarded off to the side – there was no saving them now.

Jungkook held your hands, staring down at your now pinched thighs that hid his juicy treat. He can sense your uncertainty, your nervousness – so he tried to look as apologetically pleading as possible while kneeling down in front of you. “Noona – please!” The pitch of voice didn’t match the way of his eyes that stared you down. “I’ll make it feel good, I promise. Just let me show you!”

He shoved his face between your knees, attempting to pry your legs apart, that strong scent now mere inches away from his mouth. Jungkook couldn’t control his hunger any longer, not when there was free blood just asking to be eaten.

It was almost pathetic at how desperate Jungkook was being, wiggling his head further into you. His eyes glowing pure red as they fixated at the crack between your thighs. He dragged his lips across your skin, planting reckless open mouth kisses. The sight of your roommate on his knees for you sparked a deep desire within your core.

“Kook! Let’s talk about this!” You flushed as you pinched your thighs as tight as possible. Jungkook’s hands firmly held yours still. He grunted at your resounded rebuttal, pleading more with a high pitch – needy whine.

He wasn’t listening, he couldn’t hear you as his hunger took over his senses. His throat felt dry though his mouth watered for your flavor. Heat embedded into your cheeks, rocking a wave down to your bundle of nerves. You squeaked at the shifting movements of Jungkook wedging his face even more. “Kook is this even right?!”

Complete turmoil ran through your mind – you’re sharing yourself with your friend. Someone you had a crush on, and now that attraction crept back up. An act that you two have never experienced before. This wasn’t your average ‘oh here take some blood from my wrist’ situation. Jungkook was aiming for more than just a snack and it didn’t seem like the vampire didn’t mind what-so-ever.

“I’m okay with it Noona – are you?” He nipped your leg lightly, slowly dragging his now sharpened fangs on the soft skin. His lips formed a pout as he looked up at you with reddened puppy-dog eyes. “I won’t bite you.”

Everything about this situation seemed so wrong, but Jungkook was making it sound so right. You never realized how the excitement of the situation was causing your chest to rise erratically, an ache in your core now persistently present and you swore the puddle down below wasn’t just blood now.

You were nervous and body slightly shaking. It’s late, it’s wrong, this whole circumstance entirely dangerous. But that didn’t stop your body acting on its own accord by widening your legs just enough for Jungkook’s head to slip in. A spark lit bright in Jungkook’s eyes when he laid them upon your dirty flower, the sight looking as appetizing as ever.

“Yeah.” You breathed. “It’s okay with me. Don’t bite me or so help me god –“

“I won’t.” Jungkook didn’t hesitate to slide himself in – licking up the blotches of blood that escaped onto your inner thighs. The sensual feeling of his tongue tracing patterns around your pussy.

Lewd noises came from Jungkook, devouring your juice as if it was the best meal on Earth. Satisfaction releasing through his nose that moment the flat of his wet muscle licked up between your lips, flicking at the tip of your clit.

He released your hands as he felt you ease into him, moving them to your upper thighs to kneed lovely circles into them.

“Oh!” you moaned. Your fingers carded though his hair – head nestled deep between your legs. “Koo-!”

He grinned against your sex. A slight giggle escaped his lips, “Yes, Noona?”

Jungkook looked up at you through his eyelashes and with a cock of his eyebrow, mouth entrapping your cunt. He flicked his tongue up you once more just to see your reaction.

You shuttered – back landing onto your mattress. You openly sighed with a ridged breath. The dangerous mouth of Jungkook eating you up like it was his job. “Fuck, Kook.” You giggled at your shameless moans. The feeling of bashfulness creeping up on you from enjoying the sensation, those disgusting thoughts fading away against the immense pleasure. Stimulation being particularly focused on your small bundle of nerves, especially when Jungkook sucked on it.

The mess that dressed your cunt was most definitely already cleaned up by now. But Jungkook continued to pleasure you in return – after all he did say he’d make it feel good.

He savored your flavor; his mouth finally got the taste it has been curious about for a long time now. He wanted more before his taste-testing was over, and he knew exactly how to get it.

“Let me thank you, Y/n…” he purred.

Snaking his fingers under you, he teased the pads of his digits around your entrance. Prodding slowly along with the rhythm that his tongue set. Your cunt clenched around the insertion of two of his fingers that eased in effortlessly.

You allowed him to have a taste and now he wanted to repay you back by giving you a treat you won’t forget. You gasped for air the moment Jungkook’s fingers curled up into the thicket of your inner walls, pressing long drawled out strokes against it.

Your hips bucked, jerking up into the wild tongue of Jeon Jungkook. It was sinful the way he ate you out, and even at the right angle you felt the sharp of his fangs that threatened to dip into you. His word was true, he wasn’t going to bite you, just clean you up.

With the constant thrusts of his vicious digits, he was also swiping out any hording residue of your unfortunate mishap that got you two in this situation in the first place. Of course, this luscious taste is distinct, but Jungkook can also relish in the flavor of your natural essence that extracted from your cunt. And the mix of these two delectable tangs together soon made their way to the top of Jungkook’s palate.

Your body tightened, the sudden rush of your climax rushing through you as goosebumps rise across your skin. The fist you steadily held in his hair, tightened. Your back arched off the mattress, Jungkook’s hand holding your hips securely down.

Vibrations ran through your body while you moaned Jungkook’s name, creaming all over his face. He groaned in return, lapping up every inch of you.

He leaned back, removing his mouth and fingers. Wiping the back of his hand over his mouth, Jungkook peered up at you with constraint. You remained laying, staring at the ceiling and feeling completely washed out. That just happened? You had one of the best orgasms of your entire life all because Jungkook was thirsty?

“You good, Y/n?” A mousy voice drew your attention out of your thoughts, back down at the man who hesitantly stood up. His hands moved your legs back together, and he assisted you to sitting back up right on the edge of the bed.

You nodded, reserving your thoughts for another time as you looked up to Jungkook. His eyes were no longer blood-lust red but instead his wide doe-eyed nuisance you’re oh-so used to seeing. They wouldn’t be so annoying if they didn’t work on you, but they did. Every. Damn. Time.

“I’m good, Kook! Uh – thank you.” Your expression of gratitude stammered out of your mouth faster than you could think.

Jungkook murmured under his breathe, but it was loud enough to hear the “Yeah, of course.”

Oh boy. You can feel it – the awkwardness setting in.

Before there were any more unsettling silences between the both of you, you spoke up. “I should really get myself cleaned up, if you can excuse me, I should really go to the bathroom.”

With that announcement you scurried, more like dashed yourself to the bathroom that was adjacent to your room. Leaving Jungkook to stand in your bedroom bewildered. He glanced down over at your discarded ripped bottoms that lay lifeless on the floor, still stained with your pungent aroma. He faltered battling with his inner thoughts when his lips quivered ever so slightly.

“Fuck.” He seethed the profanity through his teeth while palming over his groin.

It’s been a week since the misadventure that happened between your roommate and you. Determined, you choose to take the path of act-like-everything-is-fine. Nothing was wrong, no of course not. Right?

You had a full week to dwell on these thoughts, by yourself. No interests in opening your mouth about it to your best friends, or any random stranger at a bar or even the same clerk you run into at the convenience store every now and then.

So what – you let Jungkook have a taste of your blood? You’re an adult, and it was perfectly fine! He needs blood to live anyways – if anything you were doing him a favor! So, you told yourself…

But strangely enough after that night, after the mind-blowing orgasm that left your core fluttering for days even at the thought of that night, Jungkook distanced himself from you. No matter how many times you addressed him to partake in a casual event that the two of you normally participated in like enjoying a movie on the couch, having drinks together, running to the store or even playing one of his blasted videogames – Jungkook declined more than often. It was always.

Jungkook was hardly to be seen, stating he picked up more shifts at the lounge or hanging out with others. Meanwhile his nights remained occupied, and your days were busy with your office job – it caused more of a space between the two of you. When his actions persisted, you couldn’t help but think there was something wrong.

By day four of post orgasm those flooded doubts came running in. What you two did wasn’t right, you fucking knew it. Jungkook must have known it too. “This totally fucked up everything didn’t it?” It’s the only excuse you could devise with the series of events.

Now day seven you sat there in the middle of the couch; legs crossed over another as your foot impatiently tapped in the air. It’s been exactly a week from that treacherous night, and the more you thought about the risky behavior you both endured, the more it couldn’t escape your mind. You’re putting too much effort into something that shouldn’t be minded.

At least, that’s what Jungkook was doing – right? Not minding the incident…

With a glass of wine in hand, you sipped with resent as your flickered through the list of movies to preoccupy yourself with. Something needed to stand out, something to distract you from your irritated mindset. Maybe a comedy, maybe some horror with a bit of action?

You settled for something, clicking play and started up towards the kitchen. Swallowing the remains of your glass in honor of filling it right back up to the brim. In the course of your tipping the wine bottle into your cup, watching the dark liquid pour out of the nozzle so fluidly, you heard the entrance of your apartment open up.

That can only be one person – Jungkook.

Placing the bottle of wine back down on the counter, you turn with a full glass in hand. You walked out of the kitchen to be met with the emptying of the living room once again. Jungkook must have bee-lined it straight to his room.

A sudden rage rose up within you, not particularly enjoying this cold-shoulder act Jungkook insisted on giving. You want to confront him; you’re getting tired of this odd behavior and if there was an elephant in the room that refuses to leave then you will kick it out with all your might.

“Jungkook!” You hollered, feet stepping down the narrow hallway towards his room that was hidden in the very far end. “Kook!” Your voice belted his name a few more octaves higher.

Your knuckles contacted his bedroom door, tapping against the wood. “Can you open up?”

Through the wood you can hear the rummaging of Jungkook throughout the room. He was ransacking his drawers, the sound of his chair wheeling back and forth as his steps moved to and fro. “I’m busy right now.”

A stern huff escaped your lips. To calm yourself you took a long swig of your wine, hoping it cooled you down – or even give you more of a liquid courage to speak up.

“It will only take a minute!” You barked.

He didn’t reply back to you, but instead he continued to rustle around his room for god only knows what. With this indication, you felt peeved and your hand was fast to the doorknob. Twisting the handle fast enough to fling the door open so you can face him.

Jungkook was in the midst of tucking in his black fitted button up shirt, belt still hanging loose through the loops. Matching with his black sleek trousers and set of tuxedo shoes that went along with the monochromatic attire for work. For a brief moment, your mind zoned in on how Jungkook would look… when not just dressing, but undressing. That thought bubble was popped abruptly when he whipped his head in your direction and yelled at you.

“I said I was busy!” he repeated, tone fully capturing the blunt of his attitude.

“Jungkook, come on you’ve been avoiding me all week.” You inclined.

Jungkook ruffled out the last bits of his shirt, tapering it into the band of his pants. He fastened his belt security along his waist with the clinks and clacks. “I’m late Y/n. I don’t have time for this.” Jungkook breezes past you towards the bathroom with his stationary bag lugged over his shoulder. He eyes himself in the mirror, tidying up his hair and quickly rinsing his mouth with mouthwash.

Your feet pattered to the bathroom door, now leaning your body against the frame of the entrance. You can notice the harsh side-eye you receive from Jungkook, but you pay no attention in giving a reaction to it. “Kook, what did I do for you to avoid me? Was it because of what happened?”

There was sadness laced inside your voice, but it was taken over by puzzlement. You were just concerned, what happened to the dynamic between the two of you? Why can’t Jungkook even look you in the eyes half the time and run away to steer clear of you?

He spit his mouthwash into the skin, checking his teeth in the mirror for any imperfections. He shimmied the other string of his bag on to his other shoulder and turned to leave the bathroom, seeing that you now stood in his way he gave you an uneasy glare. “Move.”

“What the? No! –“ you protested. Your finger jotted out towards him, “Stop avoiding me!”

He can tell by the flare of your nostrils that you were fuming, and your tone of voice rising with each word you spoke only added to the obvious fact that you were indeed pissed. If it wasn’t for the clear sight that you’re holding up a cup full of alcohol, he’d most definitely would have smelt it lingering off of your breath. Jungkook attempted to grab the glass of wine out of your hand, assuring you that “you probably drank too much already.”

“Hey! – No, give me that!” You argued, holding tight with your fingers circling around the base. He’s shuffling around, pulling at your wrist to let go of the damn thing, but it was when his hand latched over yours that covered the base an unexpected shatter echoed in the apartment.

Wine spilled between the two of you, decorating the bathroom floor and your feet with the murky dark liquid. Pieces of bladed glass scattered around, and you winced when you felt the sudden jab of a shard that dug itself into your palm.

You yelped, jumping back in surprise and pain. You held your hand out, outstretching your fingers to see the blossoming of red liquid leaking from the shard. “Fuckin’ hell!”

“Shit! Y/n, I’m sor –“ Jungkook cut himself mid-sentence after reaching out towards you. The blood oozing out from that blade of glass was spilling out your sweet tasteful scent, and it wired Jungkook. His inner thirst now aroused.

Pain was plastered over your face as you ripped the piece out from your palm. You pressed firmly against the open wound, looking at the mess that is now below you. Glass everywhere and wine seeping into the cracks of the tiles.

Your eyes met up with Jungkook’s just as he was pushing pass you, down the hall and out the front door. Astonished at Jungkook’s utter rude mannerisms, you held your mouth wide open. He just up and left you in the middle of a mess that was caused by him. That you now have to clean up after taking care of this fresh cut inside the palm of your hand.

And he still didn’t answer your questions.

Another week went by with your poor attempts of consulting Jungkook and him avoiding you like the plague. And with the last ‘real’ incidence where the two of you spoke more than a few syllables, you ended up with a fresh cut to your hand and having to mop and sweep up glass shards and your favorite flavored wine off of the floor. And at this point, you felt like you were avoiding him just as much.

The animosity in the air between the two of you went down a gruesome hill. Tumbling down into smithereens where neither one of you can easily look at another. Jungkook still remained busy as ever, staying out of the house only until you leave for work. The only things that made you know he was still alive was the empty blood bottles left in the sink, the shower curtain being tossed every-which-way, and the half-hazard filing through your piled up mail when he picked out his belongings and left yours disorganized.

Needlessly to say, Jungkook stressed you the fuck out. You were bending to his routines, you were seeking shelter away from him, and all casual activity between the two of you completely vanished. Your confusion turned into spiteful hatred, wanting to smack your roommate upside the head.

Now you’re on week three of roommate-distancing. Your room became your safe haven. The living room was a crossfire full of casualties. The kitchen is a death wish. And the bathroom became your secret chamber when you needed to relax with a steamy relaxing shower and your bubbly loofah.

All this time, your mind already grew curious about Jungkook. There was no way you can repress your emotions when it came to him completely shutting you out. But you did stop remembering that night that turned the sequence of things between the two of you. You wanted to forget; you don’t want to think about it – ever.

You spent weeks dwelling over this roommate dilemma, and it tainted your mood entirely. Your job lacked enthusiasm, your tv didn’t please you enough after watching the same junk over and over. Tonight, you felt appropriate to go out for the night, treat yourself. Because you out of all people know you deserve some fun after the bullshit you are handling.

Fuck it – you’re going to the bar.

Pleather jeans hugged your legs, a blouse that you had tucked in lays low on the neckline flaunting your clavicles and upper chest. You jeweled yourself with a silver body chain that connected at your neck and dipped down between your breasts underneath your shirt. To top of your rocking outfit, you selected your best pair of open-toed red high heels lacing up the front and pinning up half of your now curled hair.

After finishing off the last touches of your make-up you gave yourself a quick look over in your standing mirror. Amused with your selection of attire you gave yourself one last twirl before grabbing your purse and heading out your front door.

You just needed time out, grab yourself a few drinks. There’s no shame of going to the bar alone, plus you enjoyed becoming acquainted with the bartenders here and there. It always gave you a sense of comfort knowing, even though it’s apart of their job, you can vent to them about your worries.

The Snake Pit, a clever yet sinister name for a bar tended to be one of your favorite hot spots to visit. Not only it had a dancefloor and an elongated bar that stretched to the full extent of a wall, electro pop music, and it had its own special feng shui to it.

Heel’s clacking against the hard-wooden floor beneath you, you strutted yourself over to an available seat by the bar. You smiled sweetly at the oncoming bartender who was headed your way, “Hey there! It’s been a while hasn’t it, Y/n?”

You handed over your card to the young chipper male who gleamed down at you, “Open a tab for me please. I’ll start with a mojito, Jin.”

“One Mo-Jin-To coming right up!” he smiled, whipping around to grab the appropriate glasses and mixtures. You bobbed your head to the music waves as you checked out the crowds around you. It was packed here tonight, and you’re happy to see people enjoying a great time.

“How’s it been?” Jin questioned after placing the glass on a coaster in front of you. He leaned in resting his elbow against the bar. Jin was a notorious little flirt, but with good intentions. He just wanted to make his customers as happy as possible – or maybe just enjoyed swooning the ladies to give him better tips.

“It’s… alright. Been better. Just needed to blow off some steam. And of course, I came to visit my favorite bartender. Can’t ever forget a face like yours.” You laughed along with Jin, taking a quick sip of your drink. “Oh? You made it a strong one.” You gave him a thumbs up, “yup, definitely my favorite bartender.”

Jin responded with a playful wink before leaning back up to assist other customers who beckoned for his attention. “Let me know when you need round two!”

And round two came sooner than later. Possibly drink three being concocted as you continued to sip down your mojitos like they were juice. When you grabbed your freshly made glass, you made your way to the dance floor to find some fun.

Within the course of an hour the beat of the music picked up drastically. Bodies swayed left and right in formations, lights flickering and buzzing around your sights. You were so into the rhythm that your hips moved naturally to the tunes.

Until a hand grabbed at your waist, turning you slightly towards them. A man slightly taller than you and maybe just as tipsy as you decided to take his chance on dancing with a pretty lady. “Hey!” he slurred over the loud music. “Let’s dance?”

His invitation wasn’t much of an invite, considering that he was already dancing along with you. But you accepted with a wide smile, urging him to come closed so you could relax your arm around his shoulder as you continued to drink. “Might as well, it is a dancefloor.” You giggled.

The bar felt like you were playing musical chairs with suitor on suitor. Eventually your drink vanished completely, and you were on your third dance with another random, but handsome, stranger.

“You smell just as pretty as you look.” He whispered into the shell of your ear, rocking his pelvis into your backside. His hands found a home on the curve of your hips, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his confession.

“That’s got to be one of the better pickup lines.” You hummed. “I’ve heard worse” you teased as you whipped yourself around in place, now placing your hands through the man’s hair. It was thick and hardened with some sort of product. You glanced around at the bar, noticing your favorite bartender flirting along with an innocent girl that sat right in front of him. A couple having a heavy make-out session just a few feet away from their interaction.

But you found a spare seat that was left empty, a motivation for you to go back for another drink? Or just relax from dancing since you felt like you needed a break.

“That’s not very nice,” the man prodded. Nudging your head aside so he could place a tender kiss against your neck.

With reflex you jerked your body away, avoiding the man and pushing him away. “No thank you.”

As you were turning on your heel, the male stepped close to you once more. Arm linking around your body, “Where do you think you’re going? Thought we were dancing?” He grinned eerily, an odd ominous vibe now shining from him.

Your hands came up to shove him away, but there was a movement in a blink of an eye that you didn’t catch. Maybe your vision was impaired, but you could have sworn you were just in the clutches of this man, and now he stands five feet away from you with a bewildered look.

“Back off.” A low grumble resounded next to you, a face popping into your perception. Jungkook?!

Jungkook’s jaw was clenched, grinding his teeth against another as the muscles flexed on the sides of his jaws. His arm was now linked around your waist, holding you close to him.

“What the fuck man?”

“She said ‘no’, didn’t she?” Jungkook challenged the man, stepping in front of you now to face the male. From here you can see his back tensed up under his dark t-shirt. You couldn’t comprehend the duel going on between the two, or maybe you couldn’t hear over the voluminous blaring of techno beats.

When the male fled the dancefloor, Jungkook turned to look at you. “What the fuck Kook!” You blurted. He was taken aback for a second, confused why you’re all of a sudden yelling at him. “Excuse me? Shouldn’t you be thanking me!?”

“Not that. I don’t care. But what the actual fuck?!”

All your pent up and inner rage towards your roommate from the past few weeks was making you hostile. Even seeing his face stirred you up to the point you wanted to hit him for being so idiotic.

“Y/n, seriously. Not right now. I just need to get you out of here. Please.” He grabbed your elbow, leading you a few feet before you tugged back on your arm.

“No!” Your hand gripped around his wrist, trying your damn near hardest to pull him off of you. “You need to explain right the fuck now!” You stomped your feet, throwing a small tantrum.

Jungkook’s patience was very thin, especially when it came to drunk you. He stepped closer, tugging your body next to his. “Fucking listen to me for a second, dammit. I need to get you out of here. I’ll talk to you when we’re outside.” He spat back at you.

“Why?” You rebutted, glaring up at his face.

“Cause you’re fucking bleeding, Y/n! And if it wasn’t for me that sleazy vampire would have had you for dinner!” He bit back. Both him and you were bickering back and forth, drawing attention from surrounding bystanders.

“What’ do you mean I’m ‘bleeding’” you air quoted with your fingers. You belted out an obnoxious laugh. Your unpleasant emotions were getting the better of you – resulting in making an ass out of yourself when all your roommate was trying to do was help you out. “Next thing you’re gonna say is that we’re friends too, right?”

Jungkook’s nostrils flared, his brows raised as high as they can reach. You were acting quite absurd and he didn’t understand what had gotten into you. “Y/n, I can fucking smell you.” He seethed out the words through his teeth. That’s when you noticed his fangs were now elongated and sharp. Jungkook wasn’t joking around.

A moment of realization kicked in and your eyes widened. “Wait, really?” You trembled.

“Yes. Now let’s get you out of here.” Jungkook escorted you through the crowd, hand now holding yours. The two of you quickly grabbed your tab from your helpful bartender while Jungkook looked out for any wondering eyes. If both he and that strange vampire could smell you, he was sure others can too.

Jungkook followed close behind you, being extra protective while scanning the areas outside on the way back to your apartment. When the two of you made it about four blocks down in complete silence, besides the sound of your heels hitting the concrete below, you decided to chirp up. “You said we’ll talk outside. So, talk.”

“Alright. What do you want to talk about?”

Your feet came to a halt, twisting your neck to look at Jungkook who walked a few paces behind you. “Seriously? You can’t imagine anything, not one thing, as to what I want to talk about?”

Jungkook ignored your stare, dismissing the obvious topic of interest by responding with. “Well, it’s easy for a vampire to tell another vampire apart. For one, they don’t have a heartbeat. So, when I saw him up on you, I grew curious.” A smug little grin pulled up on Jungkook’s face.

You balled your hands into fists, frustration pulling on every nerve in your body. “Don’t play coy with me! Stop. Fucking. Ignoring. Me. Jungkook.” You marched yourself right up to where he stood, invading his personal space. “I’m tired of it. Just talk to me. What did I do?”

“Nothing.” He mumbled. “It was me, not you.”

You snorted; the classic phrase used in so many cliché break up scenes. But this time, it’s not a break up. It’s literally two friends who have a weird misunderstanding with another. “Oh? So that’s it? It’s you and so you avoid me?”

“Keep walking, we’re only a few blocks away.”

You shook your head in defeat, crossing your arms and held tight to your body. The faster you get home, the faster you get to clean yourself up and the faster you can close off Jungkook. Little did you know that your furious speedy walk gave your butt just enough jiggle in those pleather jeans you decided to wear. Giving Jungkook something to admire from a far as his senses were being laced with your aroma.

“I’m sorry Y/n…”

“No, I’m sorry I have a shitty friend like you.”

Jungkook kept up with your pace, walking step by step along with your strides. He knows you don’t truly mean the words coming out of your mouth. It was his fault, and he was trying to admit blame for it all.

As the two of you made it up the stairwell in your apartment complex, Jungkook tried speaking up to you once more. “Y/n, look I know what I was doing wasn’t –“

“I don’t want to hear it.”

You slotted the key into your door, twisting it open and walked yourself into the darkness of your living room. Your night out became a terrible mess, rounding back to the initial problem that you’ve been trying to avoid. Once you kicked off your heels, tossing them aimlessly across the floor mat, you did the same to your purse and keys.

“Y/n.” Jungkook’s voice broke through. He reached for your arm, tugging you to face him. “Look I’ll talk all right?”

“Oh? So, I go weeks with being ignored by you, but you can’t last a night when the tables are turned?” You mocked Jungkook, looking at your roommate straight into the eyes.

“I had to, Y/n!” Jungkook pleaded for reason. “Please, I needed time okay?”

By now you were sobering up, any remains of your alcohol intake must have been sweated out during dancing and on your walk home. Jungkook was sporting his infamous doe-eyes while he looked desperately back into yours.

“Time? Time?!” you rose your voice. “Time to be an asshole? Needed time to ignore me when we could have discussed the problem? You literally circumvented yourself away from me for weeks? Was eating me out that terrible?!” Your fingers found their way to pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Whoah! Y/n, Y/n whoah whoah. No!” Jungkook grabbed at your shoulders and leveled his head with yours. Surprise took over his body, clearly the both of you were having polar opposite battles going on with your minds. “No that’s not the – that isn’t. Gah… Fuckin’ hell. Eating you out was great! I enjoyed it.” Jungkook eased his hands over your shoulders, “Wholeheartedly, even when I don’t have much of a heart to comment by, I promise you. I think… it was too good actually. But, that wasn’t the problem at all!”

Your face froze in place with your mouth forming an ‘O’ shape. Only a few times you closed it, just to open it up and speak. “Wait… I’m confused. What’s the problem then?”

Jungkook exhaled a long, exasperated sigh, rolling his eyes at you. “Y/n. Your – uh your blood is a problem for me.”

“Well now I’m slightly offended, Jeon! You said I smelt good!” You wacked his chest with your palm. During which, a brief flicker of red cut through his irises and it made you pull your hand right back from him. It was at that moment, even when Jungkook’s gazed turned to a scowl, you knew he meant something else.

“You should really get yourself cleaned up.” His voice didn’t sound like a sincere worry, but more of a threat.

You snapped back at him, “You should really learn how to control your hunger.”

Jungkook squinted his eyes at you, licking his lips with a fixed gaze. He leaned forward suppressing the enigmatic smile he wanted to show you. “May I remind you, Noona, you’re bleeding right now.”

There it is again, that pet name that he enjoys cooing you with. The name that slightly makes you shy because you yourself don’t know how to react. Or maybe it riled you up, it was his way to flirt around with you shamelessly.

Your heady scent wasn’t as strong as the last time, no not at all. It was as dull as usual when you covered it up with tampons, only a faint aroma wafting from you. Not a pile of blood decorating your skimpy nighties in the middle of the night.

But it was the fact that Jungkook has already had a taste of your blood, he knows what it tastes like. He knows how good that succulent flavor drips so freely from you. Jungkook refuses to let any other vampire pry on you, like that bastard back at the bar. This blood was favorable, and god dammit he’ll protect it at all costs.

You crossed your arms over your body, staring down Jungkook who was quickly turning into the Jungkook from a few weeks ago. “And if I am bleeding, you sir, aren’t getting any of it.”

Jungkook held back his tongue, prodding it against the inside of his cheek instead. Your scent secretly became a dangerous drug for Jungkook. Almost addictive in a sense. He was lucky to have been walking the streets near The Snake Pit, smelling your custom flavor in the air. But he was so completely unlucky when he skipped out searching for a quick drink that he was left thirsty.

And the agonizing walk from the bar back home to make sure you remained safe, getting a nice view of your ass swaying with each step in those tight pants, only tantalized him further because all he could do was sniff you out. You invading his vicinity only teased him worse.

He let out a breathy sigh again, “What can I do?”

“I’m sorry?” You blinked at him.

“I haven’t eaten tonight, and I know there isn’t any more bottles because you stopped buying them… what can I do to get some of your blood right now?”

You quizzed Jungkook, “I don’t know, what can you do?”

Jungkook reached for your hand, unfolding your arms from your front. He raised it to his face, where he placed your palm flat across his cheek. His hunger was forming an empty pit in his stomach, he physically could feel his abdomen churn inwards at the thought of your blood touching his tongue. His voice came out as a soft whisper, “I’m so sorry for mistreating you recently.”

Jungkook’s thumb rubbed along your inner wrist, stepping closer to your body. He can feel your heartbeat pick up pace, the warmth of your hand against his face grew clammier the longer he stared at you. “I – I would really love some, if you let me. I was good to you last time, right Noona?”

His words were sweet, his eyes were sweeter with the pleading look he emitted even when the color of his orbs turned to that deadly crimson. Fuck. You don’t know what it was about Jungkook that triggered you in the most sinful of ways.

Was it the way his smile looked so dashingly sexy even when he’s being a childish punk. The effortless good looks no matter what style of clothes he was wearing? His entire aspect, the living (well actually dead) embodiment of Jeon Jungkook was everything you actually craved.

You breathed, “Yeah… You were very good to me.” All of those memories of that night flooded back. The feelings. The satisfactions. How hot and heavy Jungkook’s tongue felt against your swollen sex.

“Let me be good to you again.” Jungkook advised, kissing your inner wrist now.

“Only on one condition.” You stated as your grab both of Jungkook’s wrists in your hands. You guided Jungkook down the apartment hallway, ignoring the poorly lit areas and towards his room. After pushing open his door with a foot, you pointed to his bed.

“My bed is the condition?” He grinned amused at the option in front of him. Thinking that this condition was nothing serious, but easier for him. He complied to sit down facing you with a questionable look. “What now, Noona? You have me.”

Your hands reached behind your neck, unclasping the body chain you decided to wear out tonight. “This. This is my condition.” You held the long piece of jewelry up. “It’s pure silver. I’m sure you understand.”

Now you drew Jungkook’s curiosity even further, what did you have in mind with that chain? He never knew his roommate was so kinky before. You peaked his interests with entertainment.

“Wrists. Now.”

“But how am I going to be good for you if you cuff me?”

“Do you want my blood or no? Because I’m certain just about a minute ago you said –“

“Okay. Okay. Fine.” He shook his head while displaying his wrists out to you.

The burn of the chain sizzled against his skin as you twisted it around another, tying his wrists together. It was painful for a vampire, not only does it burn but it also paralyzes the affected, so they cannot pull the material off of the area so easily.

Jungkook’s face had irritation written all over it. The pain biting him with annoyance. The only thing keeping him going is the fact that whatever he may do will give him the blood he desired.

“This is for you ignoring me for weeks.” You raised his arms above him, pushing him back onto his bed and securing his wrists to one of the posts with the assistance of a sturdy belt.

Jungkook groaned out, “Hey, I said I was sorry!”

“Apology is not accepted.” You smiled.

He watched you carefully, eyeing your bar outfit, your face, the excitement behind your eyes sparking at the actions you chose to partake in. “So, this is my punishment?” He winked.

You shrugged, making your way over to the other side of his bed to sit down next to him. “I’m pretty sure this is a reward for you, since you want my blood.” You reminded him waving your wrist in front of his face.

There was struggle, Jungkook’s eager bloodshot eyes now zoning in on the span of your wrist. You watched as his adam’s apple bobbed with a swallow. He was thirsty.

When his eyes glanced back over to yours, he had desperation screaming from them. His breath turned jagged, inhaling your lingering scent some more. “Noona – please. What do you want?”

You leaned back laying down and used Jungkook’s abdomen as your pillow, staring up at the ceiling. His innocent pleas sounded mesmerizing to you. You wanted to hear him talk, to confess.

“Besides my blood what do you want, Jungkook?”

Jungkook leered down at you. With this angle he can see the expanse of your neck on show, stretched long and elevated on his waist. He can only dream about sinking his fangs into that supple skin, slurping up whatever poured out of you.

“I want to put my mouth on you.” He declared.

You rolled your eyes, turning to face him. “I said besides my blood.” Indicating that he would want to repeat the same process as last time.

“Not down there. Not right now at least.” His eyes conveyed a secret promise.

A blush snuck up to your cheeks, raising the color of your skin to a warmer shade.

“Would you like that, Noona? Will you let me put my mouth on you?” He said with excitement. The strain of his wrists tugged at the post, Jungkook eyeing you through heavy lids. “Please, let me do something. I’ve been smelling you all night.”

On a whim you perched yourself up over Jungkook, straddling above his waist. “No.” You smiled wryly once you grabbed at the hem of his shirt.

Jungkook parted his lips, licking over his set of teeth. The two of you exchanged a brief heated look, a challenging gaze. Then the sudden tear of his shirt ripped in two as you tore the seam apart with all your might. You exposed his flexed stomach all the way to the top of his chest. “And that’s for my shorts and underwear.”

Jungkook whined, not at the lose of his shirt, but at the bold movement of your actions. It was hot. Your initiative was something he’s never seen before coming from you. And the image of you hovering your dirty flower right above his pelvis is forever going to be ingrained into his memory.

His chiseled upper body was on full display for your eyes now, disregarding the shreds of his shirt still linked around his arms. Fuck, Jungkook was sexy. The entire idea of this sculpted creature under your demand was turning you on second by second and you decided to take advantage of your leverage.

“Noona, just a taste please?” Jungkook begged with a reedy voice. He thrusted his hips up into you, wiggling his eyebrows. He was under your control, completely wrapped around your finger and it didn’t stop him from begging.

You fingered at his nipples, running your thumbs around the softened skin to cause them to perk up. You traced patterns with the tips, running up and down along his abs. “Where do you want to put your mouth?” You inquired. Tapping your digits around his cool skin. “Here?” you prodded, pointing at his upper chest right under his clavicle. “Hm, what about here?” you ran your finger over the prominent vein that bulged out of the side of his neck from constraint.

You watched the way Jungkook’s eager looks turned into anguish, the agony of not having what he craved was tormenting. Your teasing wasn’t helping, you were testing him.

“Anywhere.” He stuttered. “Everywhere.”

Jungkook gasped when you pushed down your weight onto his hips, his growing bulge now receiving attention instead. You smirked; you knew Jungkook was turned on by this. “Jeon? What do we have here?”

He swallowed thickly. Trying to straighten out his mind to respond to you properly but nothing but natural instincts were getting in the way. “I’m hard. I’m horny. And you’re extremely hot right now. As much as I am hungry, I’m thinking many other things about you right now.”

“Enlighten me, Koo.”

Jungkook dropped his head back onto the pillow under him with a whimper. He was parched, he was sexually aroused, and infuriated that he couldn’t do anything about either of them.

“Noona please!” He cried. “Do whatever you want, please. Just help me out.” Jungkook drawled on and on. His wrists continued to strain against the custom-made handcuffs that burned into his skin, rendering him from movements.

Jungkook pointed with his chin towards the junction of your bodies, “Help me.”

It dawned on you, how sleeping with your roommate right now probably wouldn’t be the wises of ideas. And those uncertainties were calculating on your face. Jungkook notices this, jumping at his opportunity to speak. “Y/n. Hey – Look at me. I’m okay with this.” His voice came out soft, still whimpering under you.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Fuck yes! You have no idea how much I need you to touch me right now.”

You hesitantly unbuckled his belt and unlooped the button to his jeans. His dick was prominently swollen, being constricted against the layers of materials. With a swift tug at his bottoms just below the curve of his ass, you released the beauty of his hardened thick cock, red at the tip with a spruce of precum glossing over the head.

Jungkook exhaled a shuttered breath, his cock aching to be touched. His member twitches cutely at the ghost of your hand hovering above it, and another whine resonated through his nose. You couldn’t help but admire the curve of his dick, the vein that ran over the underside of it. How soft his frenulum looked to the touch.

“Is this what you want Kook?” you firmly grasped at the base of his dick, right above the well-groomed hairs. His hips jolted up at your touch, flexing his muscles and pulling his arms from the restraints.

“Y – Yes!” he choked out. “Help me Noona. I promise I’ll be good for you.”

You didn’t doubt his promised plea. Last time he promised you something he surely delivered it.

You smothered his leaky precum over the head and through the slit. Fisting his shaft nicely just to watch Jungkook thrust his head back further into the bed. The angel of his jaw tilted back that showed up his thick neck was a delicious sight to witness.

To surprise him, you dipped your head down. Kissing your lips to the tip of his dick and running your tongue along the area. You hummed in satisfaction when Jungkook’s thighs started to shake underneath you. Who knew you’d have this power and demand over your friend.

Your mouth sank down, taking him in an inch and he choked out vowels. He tasted of a sweet salt, miraculously this part of his vampire body remained animated. “Noona!” His teeth remained clenched together, fangs threatening to bite into his bottom lip. “Don’t stop.”

The wetness of your mouth coated along the rest of his cock, submerging him as far as you can go and wrapping your hand around whatever portion you couldn’t reach. His tip touched the back of your throat when you took him in. Subconsciously you made sure to suck hard as you pulled away.

A string of saliva linked between your mouth and his dick, thinning out right before it snapped. Jungkook groaned out at the sight. He was painfully hard, and his stomach constantly reminded him he needed to drink before he depleted himself.

He whimpered as you abandoned his member, letting it relax against his stomach. He huffed out with a buck of his hips, “I was good to you last time!” he reminded.

“That you were.” You sat at the edge of the bed, untucking your blouse from the band of your pants. “So good.” You blushed.

“What are you doing?” His kicked you softly with the side of his foot. Your fingers found their way to the zipper of your bottoms, undoing them and shimmying them off. The blouse and bra you wore was soon tossed to the side. “I’m going to ride you if you let me.” You peered over your shoulder, baring your backside to him.

Jungkook’s eyes lit up, beaming the red hues that decorated them. “Yes, please. My god – please ride me.”

You straddled yourself over Jungkook’s waist, making sure not to fully sit down on top of him just yet. You wanted to tease him of the sight from a few weeks ago. Your lovely lady-bits wafting his favorite flavors together. “I guess I was bleeding a little bit huh?” You laughed to yourself.

His mouth watered; lips parted. Your smell lingers into his nose and filled his lungs. Jungkook was thankful you tied him up otherwise he was sure to have attacked you to get this treat.

“Rub yourself on me, please. I want you to coat my dick.”

He caught you by surprise, this lewd sentence spilling out of his mouth. But you conceded, sitting yourself back on his throbbing member, just to run yourself up and down on it. Your wetness caused an embarrassing and loud squelching noise, your taint painted on Jungkook’s cock like a canvas.

He met the swing of your hips with his own, grinding up into your slick sex. His pressure was forceful up into your folds as if his dick was asking for permission to enter you. “Is this what you want?” you teased again.

He nods vigorously, controlling his impulse to thrust up into you. His hunger remained dominant, but the lust for you became top priority.

You locked eyes with him the second the tip of his dick threatened to push past your hole. He was yearning to break through and glide his dick against your velvety sleek walls. His lips are pink and bitten while he continued to let out those cute pleading noises you enjoy hearing so much. Jungkook’s eyes fluttered closed in a tormented bliss.

He was ultimately at your mercy, within your clutches and you could break him at any moment. Leave him hot and heavy to get back at him if you really wanted to. You didn’t speak, just waiting for a sign that he was close to his breaking point.

Jungkook whines again brokenly, “Please, please Noona. I want to be inside you. Can I please?”

So needy. So deprived of his wants and wishes. You feel for him, you really do. Feeling him shake like a leaf from the anticipation of plunging his cock so far up into you. And you allow it.

You leaned down further, allowing just the head to sink in. He groans out your name the moment you slipped him back out, just to repeat the process once again now easing yourself all the way down on him. You stiffed a moan yourself, humming along with the series of loud whiny noises escaping his mouth.

“No more ignoring me, Koo.” You rolled your hips up. “If we have a problem, we should address it. Right?” You circled, bobbing yourself on his cock. “Right?” Your hands found perch on his chest, pinching his nipples enough to harden them and forcing an animalistic growl out from Jungkook.

He gasps, choking out breaths, “Right!” his eyes skewed shut. Jungkook’s wrists were bleeding, pinned together tightly. His lust fogged mind wished to get his hands on you, to guide the movements of your hips or even flip you over just to pound himself inside your cunt.

His eyes opened just enough to stare at the way your body moved on top of him, a small raspy groan leaving him. God you look like a delicious treat – he’s even questioning himself how he lasted this long without taking you before.

The pants that hugged his thighs were preventing him from widening his legs. The fabric softening the blow of your ass landing down on him. The stinging burn of pain mixed with the immense pleasure of your pussy clenching around his smooth cock has got him spinning down in spirals.

“I – I’m, Noona. So close.”

“No.” You asserted, slowing down your pace to a halt. “Not yet.”

Jungkook kicked his feet out, eyes blown wide. “What, Why!?” His cock twitched inside of you the same way his hips jerked up.

“Bite me first.” Your wrist made its way in front of Jungkook’s mouth. His tongue swiped out licking your delicate skin. His mouth latches onto you with no hesitation, the sharpness of his fangs burying themselves inside forcing you to hiss at the sudden infliction.

It was like biting into a peach, liquid spilling all over her mouth. Jungkook sucked with fervor, drinking down your delectable juicy liquid while his hips jutted up into you. He wanted you to continue, keep moving before his orgasm gets denied. He muffled a cry against your bleeding wrist when you swivel your hips at a certain angle.

You were panting in the open air, picking up your speed to meet his urgency. Face gorgeously flustered, unshed tears sparkling from Jungkook’s eyes. Your blood pushed Jungkook over the edge, freefalling down into a pit of pure bliss. He chases his orgasm, using a sharp uncoordinated sloppy thrust to bury his cock deep inside your cunt as he came. Cum jetting out of him in streams like a fountain.

His fangs retracted from your wrist, being replaced with light butterfly kisses over the wounded area. Jungkook flops back to the pillow, short of breath. Portions of your blood smeared around his lips and also his dick.

“Holy shit – “ his words faltered.

You gave him his moment, allowing him to take it all in before you moved off of him. Lifting your body off of Jungkook he cuts your action with a sharp tone, “Where are you going?” His eyes dawdled on your exposed body, forcing you to freeze mid pull-out.

“I? I was going to clean up?”

He shook his head frantically, “Don’t get off me just yet. Ah. You didn’t cum – I want to make you cum.” Jungkook edged his hips up with a spasm of overstimulation, his member hiding back inside of you. “Sit back down on me please.”

He was softening inside of you; you can feel it slowly shrink and the idea of cock-warming to get you off wasn’t something that sounded promising.

“Kook, it’s really okay. I don’t need to.”

“I want you to. Get me out of these chains.”

You sighed, leaning forward enough to hold Jungkook’s cock inside of your super slippery walls. Giving Jungkook the opportunity to place hot open-mouth kisses to your breasts that dangled down in front of him. The make-shift bondage was released, pulling the chains off of his ruined wrists. They’ll heal back shortly anyways.

His hands latched to your waist in a blink of an eye, digging his nails into your skin. There was a pool of mixed liquids between the two of you, glistening in the light. He didn’t bother to yank his pants off, he wanted to focus on you instead. He guided you to run your hips a certain way, tilting them down so your clit can run against his pelvis.

“Hold me inside you, can you do that for me Noona? I’ll get hard again just by watching you use me.”

His voice was filthy whispering those sentences in the air. Involuntarily causing you to clutch around his dick.

“Ah – just like that,’ he cooed. “Play with me, do what you want.”

He continued to pilot your lower half on him, running your drenched pussy into him. Your breath turned labored; clit throbbing with sensitivity from the build up of stimulation. Your hands ran the expanse of his chest, his biceps, around his collarbones and up. Finger’s interlacing with the tendrils of his hair at the nape of his neck.

He was bringing you close to your release just as his cock started stiffening back up. Your breath caught in your throat, a brief squirm of your body reacting to his dick prodding into your sweet spot.

Your mouth dropped open, pleasure taking over your face. “Right there?” Jungkook taunted. “You like my dick against that spot?” You nodded like a bobble-head. He moved you again, repeating the action.

You never noticed how your hips were moving on their own accord now, how greedy you were being as you used your roommate as a pleasure toy. A very hot, sexy, vampiric sex toy indeed.

The moans escaping you were coming out as a song, heighten with each second your lower stomach started tingling. It was happening. You were at the brink of your orgasm, railing your clit into Jungkook. “Fu – fuck. Kook!” Your eyes clamped shut and your bottom lip was bruising from your demanding teeth. “I’m so – gasps – im so close.”

You practically hiccuped the moment his fingers pinched your bundle of nerves, tweaking it between the two digits. Forcing your body to thrust forward with a maddened cry. Orgasm after orgasm erupted through you, vibrations shooting through your body the same way you squirted all around Jungkook.

Jungkook caught you before you could collapse on top of him, sitting his body up so he could hold you in his arms. He petted your hair as you rested your head in the crook of his neck trying to calm down from the aftershocks of your numbing body.

“Hey, it’s alright, I gotcha.”

The warmth of your body captivated him. Your smell of arousal and blood dampening his body and sheets are sure to stir some problems in the future if he didn’t get it cleaned up quickly.

“Thanks…” you murmured under your breath, inhaling his manly scent.

“Clean I get you cleaned up?”

You nodded, circling your arms a and latching your legs around him. Exhaustion was whipping over you and you swore you started to see stars in your peripherals. What was it about Jungkook that caused the best orgasms you’ve ever received?

He chuckled, “Noona, I’m still inside you right now. If I’m gonna clean you up, I need to be able to move. You’ve made a mess everywhere.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, trying to get a better view of your blush fucked-out face.

“I feel a little weak.” You embarrassingly whispered.

“Of course you do – I fed on your blood. And you came about 3 times in a row.” He held you tighter, shifting himself to swing his legs to the edge of the bed. Everywhere was soaked. Leaking fluids colliding with anything it touched. It was then he decided sleeping in your clean bed will be easier for the both of you. “I’ll get you something filled with vitamins to help you replenish.” He gave a quick peck to your temple, examining the way you dozed off.

#BAsecretbunny20 #bangtanarmynet #armysource #ficswithluv #btsbookclub #magicshopnet #jungkook x reader #jungkook #smut #bts #one shot #jeon jungkook #vampire au #jkeuphoriadreamland #kimtaehyunq #maknaesmutsociety

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starrysupercell · 3 years

Text

UwU the rest of the outline at per request. @lumpy-veev (still unfinished but it's okay! This should be thought of as a rough draft.) 💙

🦝 "RaR 3" or "Breaking Point" 🐍

It would be an unofficial Brawl, which is not allowed, but it happens, and what can you even do?

I see the two as basically ignoring each other's presence upon finding out that the other is there. Of course, as much as they won't admit it, it's making them think of. Everything.

This leads to even more on edge tense atmosphere whenever they would cross each other's path, because even if it’s a big park, you can only avoid someone for so long, especially when you happen to have common associates. (the Coworkers, Tara, etc.)

It doesn’t help they have growing animosity and take every little thing personally for every interaction.. and it’s only been a month or two.

Rumors begin to pick up around the park-- Just a little chatter at the bar. Just a little observation that those two sure have something between them huh? The gossiper is shushed, because did you forget who runs the place? his connection to Byron?

Luckily, the bartender didn’t seem to hear. He was busy cleaning glasses. The topic’s changed. customers continue to come and go.

One who arrives is Piper, who sits down at the bar. It’s busy, so she waits patiently for Barley to get her usual. (he’s good at that.) He sets down a coaster and the glass in front of her, but instead of a greeting and bustling away this time, he sticks around.

“Byron is well on his way to becoming a topic of interest around here...” he tells her.

She leans forward with a smile. “What have they said? And who, for that case?”

He explains what he heard, and omits the names.

Piper thoughtfully considers this. She had noticed this, but hadn’t chalked it up to a personal history, just conflict of interest. (byron was well off, belle was a thief. he would be cautious) Now that she knew, she wanted every drop of intel.

“I can talk to him. we wouldn’t want our dear coworker being talked about, do we?”

“I do not.” Barley replied, tipping his hat to bid her goodbye as he steps away to another client. He lets Piper take care of this, because he likes letting people come to him if they want to talk, and he feels that Byron would have already approached him if that were the case.

So, it’s another one of their patented teatime tête-à-têtes.

Piper skirts around the issue before dropping the news of whispers about the two.

But Byron doesn’t humor the topic, and refuses to talk about it.

Piper cheerfully pokes at him. “Crossed paths? Did you know her before the Park? maybe previous business associates? She robbed you, but you had good insurance, and one day she tricked you? Ooh~ Former flames-?"

And then Byron stands up and is about to leave wordlessly until that last suggestion processes bc if he doesn’t clarify now, ugh that’s gonna be what Piper thinks is plausible (kind of, bc he gay af) and he does NOT want that to be a thing.

“She’s a relative,” he says with so much distaste before he leaves that Piper is even more intrigued. but at the same time, there’s something that tells her she shouldn’t fan the fire any further.

they’ve had their share of back and forths, and it’s been a blue moon since something had gotten him so upset that he just up and leaves.

she drops it, and as the #1 gossipmonger of the park, the hushed whispers of “mystery between byron and belle?” is completely stamped out with a dismissive attitude and several “Really? I didn’t notice anything.”

If Byron really and truly didn't want this around the park, she'd honor that.

Of course, with QD Edgar on occasional trips with the Gang, that’s the biggest connection the sibs have at the moment.

The first time Edgar name dropped Byron, Belle froze and listened to 2.47 more seconds of the teen's rambles before telling him to get a move on around camp and quit yapping.

Edgar didn't notice this first time around and grumpily went about his way.

But I'm sure there's one thing or another that makes Edgar talk about his dad manager again, and one thing that will really piss Belle off, is comparison.

Tara, who notices the shift in mood, puts herself in between Edgar and Belle and swiftly soothes things over. She suggests getting on with the plan they have (already knowing what Belle will respond with).

"heist cancelled," Belle states, rearing up Elodie and galloping away from camp. (She usually winds down on her own after celebrating a big heist, but never before-- and never had called it quits at that.)

Edgar is put off. Tara muses that it's nothing he could help...

On her own, Belle just contemplates everything. Hours. It brings up familiar memories of being up on the rooftop with her head buried into her arms and knees feeling terrible.

Except now she's more than grown, with her share of things to be proud of and great memories she forged on her own. She's not curled up on herself anymore. She's staring to the long distance of the desert-- her home-- traveling with ease.

That stupid rooftop section of her life is nothing more than a fraction of her well-lived life.

It doesn't make her feel better.

Yet another thing Byron ruins for her without even trying.

She needed a drink.

Not wanting to head back to her camp for the night, and not in the mood to try nabbing some good drink, Belle simply walks into the bar and orders something.

Barley treats her the same as any Brawler, despite what he now knows about her.

As far as he was concerned, she came in there as a customer. And as long as she paid, he saw no problem in serving her...

She drinks quietly, and he keeps an eye on her intake.

And eventually, just like with any other customer with something heavy on their mind and enough drinks, words flow easier.

She doesnt use names, and keeps terms vague. Speaks angrily of her parents. Calls the brother a "dumbass of a pushover."

Now, it isnt like he associates Byron as a (pardon his french) 'dumbass' in any way, but it's the way she uses it that makes Barley connect the dots. The tone wasn't as bitter. Almost fond. Almost.

He lightly prods for a little bit more insight, and she gives up a little more as she drinks.

Unlike the other two members of his Trio, it wasn't in his nature to gossip, so this would stay between them.

Barley listens, because that's what she needs right now. Not advice, not interjections or lectures or deflecting the subject. Just someone to listen.

Eventually he cuts her off before she gets too inebriated (and probably causes trouble.)

{I AM going to write this scene out in depth. And cry while doing so.}

On the other side, after the season and back at the Gift Shop, Edgar is 🤔🤔 over that incident. He considers talking with Colette but 1) she's as mad as a Colette could be at the fact that he hung out with the NEW BRAWLER and TARA and didnt bother getting her ANYTHING. and 2) tbh she's a blabbermouth.

Byron does his regular check of the shop that day. Making sure Colette hasn't run off and Edgar isnt sneaking a nap.

He welcomes Edgar back from his little trivial loot and shoot games.

While Edgar hadn't even thought twice about it before, he recalls that when he had told Byron he'd be working at a different section of the park (namely with the new Brawler, Belle) he had acted just as dismissive.

Like yeah, there was your usual "old man doesn't get the teens" shenanigans, but Byron had never belittled his interest in anything before. Calling his involvement in the season a 'trivial game' sounded... personal.

He outright asks Colette if Byron was acting weird.

Any snippiness that Colette may have had for 2 minutes diminishes when there's a chance to talk with her favorite person in the world that she's seen little to none of for two months, AND about her favorite topic: Brawlers!

She spills everything she knows, because despite Piper's efforts, theres no secret a Brawler can try to keep when shes around.

She didn't find out everything of course. But she knows that there were questions involving Byron and Belle. Piper hushed it up, so for sure there was something.

Edgar nods. "Totally. I think she was close to rippin' my head off once. I brought up Byron once and she was ready to chew me out." (in case i didn't make it clear, Edgar picked up a slight drawl because of belle)

"Cool!" Colette exclaimed. "..I mean, not the rip your head off part. But that is cool too. I meant do we have lore on our hands?? That nobody ELSE knows!!?"

Edgar shushed her. Byron is in his office but the shop wasn't really sound proof.

......cue shenanigans from the Coworkers trying to figure things out in their very amateurish ways compared to Piper by "sneaking" around and "nonchalantly" trying to get him to admit something.

Byron knows they're up to something, and humors them until realizing the topic when Edgar tries bringing up the Goldarm Season.

He shuts them down even faster than Piper.

Of course, instead of deterring them like her, he just confirms their suspicions. Colette and Edgar are "o yeah we are def going to get to the bottom of this."

So, it's plan B! If they even try asking Piper she throws them for such a loop and leaves them so bewildered that Colette even forgets to ask for anything she could keep, and Edgar didnt realize she gave them nothing to work with until they're already out the door and down the street with cake pops in their hands.

So, Plan C! ...Barley.

It's hard to find a time to go there, since it's busy when they get off work. And Barley always seems to be at one place or another....

So the kids choose the perfect time (roughly midday), and just wait for the perfect day... when Byron comes in and checks the shop, then decides on his own that they could handle it for the rest of the shift and leaves them to it.

When the stars align, the teens wait until Byron is out of sight, and close up the gift shop. Their plan is to head to the bar... and maybe try and get something out of Barley..... not much of a plan, but they don't realize it there.

They make haste, running to the bar, because time crunch (when/if complaints start rolling in.)

Bursting through the doors of the Bar, Barley gives them a look. "Don't.. do that, please."

Colette apologizes enthusiastically, and urges Edgar forward. "Ask him! I'll keep watch!"

She hops over to the door and peers through it periodically.

Meanwhile, Edgar is stammering because he didnt plan anything to say, he expected Colette to talk to the robot.

"If you two think I allow underage drinking, I most certainly do not, no matter what Penny says." Barley warns.

"Uhh, no it isn't that. ...Umm. do ya know... well, you would know about Byron, and not Belle, I guess. But they've been acting weird lately, and we want to know why."

. . .

Barley pauses in consideration.

Options and questions flood around his mind, and he still had no answer.

Wonders if he should even mention Belle's visit some time ago, or the fact that he knows more in depth about it than Byron would care for, or that if Piper found out he knew more than her, and then told these two over would she be offended? ....Actually, in that case, why was he considering telling them anyway? Well, if they were interested in the topic for genuine reasons...

Edgar doesn't even know what to do either. Barley's not saying anything.

Colette squeaks, and scrambles from the door. "Edgar!! Any luck here? Because we're out of it over there!"

"What?"

"I think I see Byron heading here!!"

Who would have thought.

this is where i kind of dropped off the outline, but to continue/wrap it up, Barley points them to the curtain that covers the back room. There's an exit there which he tells them about, but the teens stay to EAVESDROP bc they care.

Barley and Byron chat. the conversation dips into the area having to do with Belle.

Byron frowns. "If I didn't know any better, I would think you're trying to get me to admit something, Barley. I can understand Piper, but you?"

"Me?" Barley asks. "Sir, you know I never mean harm."

"..." Byron stares at him unconvinced. "If Piper did put you up to this, you can tell me."

"U.. Believe it or not, I am among others in this park who care about you, Byron."

"...." wouldn't that be nice. But Byron believes him. My bad. He humors his coworker for now. "Fine." And asks for a drink.

Barley gets him his preferred one. [Lol I'll come up with it eventually.]

They talk. Barley finds out a little more. But just a little bit. Byron... it isnt like he has practice talking about ☆~feelings~☆

The teens listening in leave before too long. Colette is like O.O;; and Edgar decides that all they wanted to know was the relation between Byron and Belle, and they got that.

She agrees, and they both leave through the back door.

Byron didn't get as drunk ofc, it's still his working hours. Just enough to loosen up a bit and get through mild robot therapy.

After his leave, Barley sees him off, and then goes to check in the back. They're gone and he has a brief "oh, thought they would have gotten the hint to, listen in. Oh, well."

[There's one more event, involving the Coworkers interacting with Belle one last time, but still unplanned <3 it leads to the meet up and the fight... somehow though. I'll release that when I think of it.]

I can also see Piper being ":0 you knew before I did? And didn't tell me? You're mischievous, Barley!" In a very light hearted way at the very end.

Barley frets ;;; "I am not!"

#Brawl Stars #Townsfolk Trio #Belle #SCT #Coworkers #My Outlines

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latremoille · 3 years

Text

no one asked for my two cents but i feel like i need to say this about plotting / interacting etc.

( and i know i’ve been in this group for ages so i am very biased and definitely don’t give my 100% always when it comes to plotting but hear me out )

but this group is fucking big. we have over 120 characters. it’s a fact that you cannot have plots with everyone on one character, you can barely have plots with a quarter of the characters on one character.

this is a very harsh view but: if the connection won’t “do” anything for my muse’s character development, what’s the point ? there’s 118 other characters to interact with. plotting for the sake of plotting is not only exhausting but unfruitful. some characters just. don’t. make. sense. together. like i personally am not going to contact elisa and ask if i can have plot between bash and alexei because there’s absolutely nothing there, and it’s unfair to ask elisa to sacrifice the characterization of alexei for the sake of a dynamic that doesn’t work. plotting is hard when it’s like building a ten story building on top of clay.

and plotting becomes easy when you know who you’re plotting with. it just requires you to be aware of the characters in the group. when i go about deciding who could be my character’s ex or who could be their rival or their childhood friend, i think about the web of connections that will stretch out from the other characters. look at jelani and olimpia — you have that whole croys-jelani-aurel-sylvia-ariel chain there, and the threads just happen naturally because the domino effect is that effective. people take the baits others set for them and run just with it.

cliques rarely exist solely because the muns are just good friends, it’s usually that the players think alike and can see what the other is aiming at. the only way you can really write those baits ( idk if i’m coining this term right here but i hope u get me akfbdjsgb ), is to be aware of the other characters and their drama. if i had to write a thread between bash and san right now, i’d just have him namedrop yihwa because it will take the thread somewhere. if i had to write a thread between iéna and aleks ( a v random combo ), i’d try to steer the conversation towards engagements or parents because i know aleks could talk about that whole meixu thing or king magnus. but without those baits you’re just stuck writing about the weather.

and i mean, sometimes it’s okay to just plot something vague and go with the flow. if you don’t know what the dynamic could be but have a feeling there’s potential, going with the flow is superb!! but in order for that approach to work, the threads need to flow. i’ve been rping for almost a decade and if i had a dollar for every time someone gave me a reply where they couldn’t even follow the basic rule of “yes and...” or “no but...”, i’d be a millionaire. i’m not saying every reply needs to be something exceptional and unique but if there’s barely anything to respond to, not a single statement, not a single opinion, not a single question... the thread will die, and organic development of that dynamic won’t happen. because a reply that kills the conversation just makes me, as a writer, think that the other person doesn’t give a damn so why would i bother writing a reply when the other person doesn’t even want it lol.

every time i see the main gets a complaint about this topic it frustrates me unreasonably. i’ve had e tell me multiple times that she’s a bit stumped with anneli bc “she’s not a very friendly character and she’s not related to people so it’s difficult to come up with plots that work” and every time the conversation ends with her saying “i’ll just have to think and figure this thing out.” not even once have i had her complain about the lack of plots, just about her inability to create them. that’s putting in effort and taking responsibility for plotting.

thanks for coming to my ted talk, let’s write better together skgbsdgjb

#hshqooc

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be-bi-do-crime · 3 years

Note

Sooo i saw you review someones carulia fic befpre so uh heres mine, if i could have some pointers?🥺For context; its supposed to be an angst to fluff comcerning how Carmen & Jules make up following the ACME interruption..

Carmen POV:

The rain relented for no one, not even for those who were in mourning. It was a single drop and a million all at once, thundering down in sheets ftom a confident stormy sky. Carmen Sandiego shivered, the tiny droplets assaulting every shred of skin she had dared to leave exposed.

Her red-brunette hair was drenched a shade darker, now existing as a thick, sopping mass glued to the back of her feverish neck. Carmen’s cheeks were ice cold and slick with water, aside from two thin trails of tears with fading heat.

That was one plus side of being out in the storm, she supposed. It was easy to cry in the rain.

In Carmen’s hands were an arrangement of Peonies and Hydrangeas, the water hammering at their petals. They had been Shadowsan’s suggestion and she took it, because, how the hell would she know what kind of flowers Dexter Wolfe preferred?

The makeshift grave had been Shadowsan’s idea, too. Apparently it would give her closure. Carmen admitted it did, to some extent, help to have some way to mourn her late father. But the fact that she knew his body wasn’t anywhere near his headstone dulled any respite it might have provided.

They had chosen a grave in Poiters, France. It was the only place the team frequented aside from San Diego, and it held the only funeral home that agreed to not ask questions about birth and death records.

Team red hadn’t visited the place in months what with her falling out with Julia and ACME, until today. It was the anniversary of his death, after all.

Carmen’s hands quivered as she lowered the flowers to the wet earth. Tension pulsed in her veins with a thousand emotions flooding through her. She was so, so angry! At the world, at Shadowsan, at Chief, at everyone for taking away what could’ve been a beautiful life with family she now knew nothing of.

She wanted to hurt someone, to scream. And so she did. A guttural roar escaped Carmen’s rouged lips, disappearing into the night. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her erratic breathing. When she looked down, she realized she had crushed the flowers.

Not caring anymore, Carmen plopped down against the headstone, the mud squelching beneath her. Tears began to flow beyond her control and she let them, for once allowing herself to truly feel all the hurt she kept pent up inside in favor of her suave exterior.

Her fingers dug into the earth, and she flung a fistful of mud into the rain. Carmen was tired of running from everything, tired of chasing her past, tired of hiding from the people she cared about.

Maybe the earth’ll open up and swallow me, she mused. Or better yet, maybe I’ll get struck by lightning.

Carmen sighed, moving her back to rest against her father’s grave. “Oh, dad.” She whispered softly. “I’m so sorry.”

The lady in red began to relax despite the rain, curling up in a fetal position and feeling sorry for herself. It wasn’t like Zack, Ivy, Player, and Shadowsan were here to see her so vulnerable, after all.

The sound of two feet approaching caught her attention, their light tread a very familiar sound.

No. It couldn’t be-

The lady in red looked up, her hair strewn haphazardly and her eyes red from crying all while every inch of her body was drenched.

“Miss Sandiego?” There stood Julia Argent with a sky blue umbrella, a mix of horror and concern painted over her delicate features.

“How many times have I told you Carmen is fine?” Carmen whispered as usual, only this time the flirty playfulness was amiss. Her voice was hoarse and raspy, not a sliver of emotion present as she stared dead ahead, right through Julia.

“I’m.....sorry.” The petite woman replied, stressing the underlying meaning.

“What are you doing here, Agent Argent?” Carmen asked tiredly, refusing to call her Jules any longer.

Julia flinched, as if the missing nickname was like a blow to the gut. “Please, you don’t have to be so formal. But, um, I live here, remember? So I think I I should be ask you that.”

“I was just passing through.” The lady in red stood, refusing to meet the other woman’s eyss.

“Where are you going?”

“Anywhere but here.” Carmen said coldly. She couldn’t believe she had ever been stupid enough to begin to trust Julia, much less begin to fall for her. “It’s a long walk to the train station.”

For once, she thought she had someone who believed in her, someone who was on her side wholeheartedly.....and yet...

Stockholm.

“Carmen, you won’t be able to find your way in this weather.” Julia said tentatively, pity filling her beautiful doe eyes to the brim. “Please, um, my apartment isn’t far from here. You can stay until the rain calms down.”

A dark, humorless laugh escaped the Latina’s lips. “What, do all you ACME agents bunk in the same place or something?”

“Excuse me?“

“So they’re waiting for me then,” Carmen continued, her anger and feelings of betrayal peeking into a tirade. “I bet they all have they’re guns propped up at the door already in place. I think I’ll pass, Jules.“

Carmen spit her nickname out like some vile insult she was hurtling at an enemy.

Julia sucked in a sharp breath, sadness touching her features. “Carmen,“ The petite woman began, pleading “I know you won’t forgive me for what happened in Stockholm, but I promise you I didn’t know.“ She paused, waiting for some form of acknowledgement, no response. “I-I told Chief to back off and let me talk to you, she-she said it was okay! I had no idea they were moving in. Please, please Believe me.”

“Oh yeah?“ The woman in red whispered, her voice barely audible over the downpour. “And what if I don’t?“

...

And thats all i have sooo far---

AIJSIDKDKJDKFJDJJSJDFJ OKAY THIS IS LATE BC I WAS NOT IN THE EMOTIONAL HEADSPACE TO DECONSTRUCT THIS BUT. ANON HOW DARE YOU? I AM IN IMMEASURABLE PAIN

i’ll just add notes as i go, thank you for allowing me to read this and offer pointers :D

your descriptions are so good omg!! i love the first sentence SO much?? “the rain relented for no one, not even for those who were in mourning” PHEWWW that’s poetry

i’d say the only thing about the following descriptions is that you don’t have to describe everything, if that makes sense? like, you can leave it as just “a stormy sky” for example. descriptions are amazing, but too much of anything can be harder to read and get your point across!

“it was easy to cry in the rain” anon WHO let you hurt me like this!!!

i feel like if i look up those flowers i will cry so i’m not going to but. shadowsan knowing what flowers to bring is just.... help i’m in pain

NOT THE GRAVE BEING IN POITIERS GOD GIVE ME STRENGTH

instead of “so, so, angry” you can say furious, and replace the exclamation mark with a period. it makes it more solid (if that’s the right word...?)

it’s probably a tumblr formatting thing but italicize the words when it’s her inner thoughts for better distinction!

CARMEN RECOGNIZING JULIA’S FOOTSTEPS

“a mix of horror and concern painted over her delicate features” i’m in LOVE with this wording??

REFUSING TO CALL HER JULES ANY LONGER@,#)&()&)&&)&:&:; LORDDDD

NOT THE. NOT FUCKING STOCKHOLM ANON?? me: brings it up 24/7 and then me when anyone else brings it up: WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS

THE ANGST IS KILLING ME

side note, don’t refer to characters by their race/ethnicity, go with the thief, lady in red, the other girl etc

probably a typo but **their instead of they’re!

“AND WHAT IF I DON’T?” I AM INCONSOLABLE ANON I AM SO SCARED TO READ THE FULL THING WHEN YOU’RE DONE BUT I ALSO CAN’T WAIT AHHHHH THIS ANGST IS SOOO GOOD

thanks again for the submission 🥺💕 i hope my notes were okay!! this was such an emotional journey to read and now i’m going to be fueled by stockholm angst all day when writing <3

#asking carmen #gun mention #death mention

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justsomefluff · 4 years

Note

Hello I was wondering if you could do an ateez reaction to going to a fashion show with their girlfriend 🥺❤

here it is!! sorry it’s so late!! I hope you enjoy! <3

Hongjoong:

Okay so Joong is the type to pretend he doesn’t want to go

But then love every second of it

And after your first one, he’s gonna beg you to go to more shows with him

Like every time a model comes out wearing something new, even if the entire look is hideous, he’s gonna complement something about the look

Because he knows how hard the models and designers work to make all this happen

And if there’s a look he really really loves, he’ll look at you and be like

Im gonna buy that for you

Suddenly showering you in complements

“Babe, you’d look so beautiful in that”

“Babe, you’re the most stunning person in here”

NO FAX, JUST PRINTER

And at the end of the night, you’ve both compiled a list of colors and styles you would like to see on each other

So you decide to make each other outfits for the next date you go on

And its just so cute bc Joongie really does draw inspiration from everything he sees

So he totally writes a song about this experience with you

Seonghwa:

Seonghwa is not shy about his love for fashion

Like he has his own sense of style, and he loves choosing things that he feels will express his personality

So when you guys get the chance to go to a fashion show together

OH BOY GET READY

He’s gonna grade every look under his breath on a scale from 1-10

And then he’ll tell you what he likes most about each style that is presented

He tries not to be too critical though bc he knows that everyone’s tastes are different

Will also ask your opinion on the outfits

Like “ooh what do you think of that one? I really like the textures on it!”

You will both choose your top two outfits

like you choose them so that you have one you want just for yourself and one that you want for him

And then he does the same

You typically choose similar looks because you know each other’s style super well

And Hwa is totally the type to surprise you by buying you one of the pieces he had seen you eyeing more than the others

“Just as a thank you for coming with me :)”

Yunho:

His crackhead comes out in full force at fashion shows, believe me

I mean seriously

Every time something comes out that he doesn’t like he insults it in a really funny way

And you’re sitting in the front row so your literally biting your lip so hard to not laugh in front of all these cameras

Like a model comes out with a bunch of feathers on her outfit and Yunho’s just like

“Heads up, everybody, Chicken Little has just hit the stage!”

Or if he sees something particularly revealing he’s like

“Wouldn’t you love to see me in that, baby”

Like would you just hush already lmao

He takes a picture of every single look that he finds funny, just so he can send them to you later with a funny caption

But he also sees one he really loves

Will take a picture of your side profile when you aren’t looking

And the model is coming down the runway in the background

He will save that picture as his background as a reminder that he is going to get you that outfit someday

But he will try not to let you find out that he was so soft about it lmao

So he tries to keep you from seeing his wallpaper

He really wants it to be a surprise, but he also cant stop looking at the picture and imagining the moment you are finally able to put the outfit on

Yeosang:

(he’s so cute I cant breatheeee)

Yeosang will sit pretty silently through most of it

But do not be fooled

NO MODEL IS SAFE

He is judging and critiquing every single look like it is his JOB

The most stone cold poker face you will ever see

Will only crack a smile if you whisper “you’d look so good in that, Sangie”

But when you finally leave he will show you any of the pictures he had taken and start a legitimate conversation about how you liked or disliked each look

Has a grading system lmao

Like you have A-F grading scale, but also categories that each look has to fulfill

Color, texture, fit, overall flow of the patterns and clothing items, etc.

And you can play along for a while before you’re finally like

“YEOSANG, WE ARENT JUDGES ON NEXT TOP MODEL”

“We could be”

Like boy if you don’t-

But then he gives in and he’s like “just tell me which one you loved the most and I’ll tell you if it was good or not”

So you do and he’s like “THAT WAS THE WORST LOOK OF THE ENTIRE NIGHT WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT”

And then that launches a playful debate about who has better fashion sense

But overall you both had a really good time and plan on making this an annual tradition

San:

(he’s so breathtaking here im sorry I mean cmon his hair matches his sweatshirt)

This fashionista here

Sees the artistry in every look and compliments literally everything

Very genuine in his appreciation for the work that has been done

Spewing compliments the entire time

“Omg look how intricate all the stitching is.”

“That fascinator is so stunning, look at all the colors wow”

And it’s so cute to just watch him

Like he’s assessing all the models with the biggest doe eyes

He really is like a little kid at Disneyland for the first time

Just so excited and appreciative of every little thing

“I wish our next comeback could be so beautiful like this!”

“Sannie, your comebacks are always beautiful”

“BUT LOOK AT ALL THIS ELEGANCE!!”

It’s just so adorable

And when the designer comes out at the end of each parade of models, you can bet San is cheering the loudest

And he’ll be so inspired and as his makeup noonas to try and replicate some of the looks he had seen

Gets hella motivated and literally starts drawing up ideas that he has for costumes and things

He’s just a sweet baby who sees the beauty in everything and wants to make beautiful things too

And he will always ask your opinion on his drawings

“Do you like this one? Do you think it could work?”

And of course you tell him all of them are fantastic bc they are

And you guys work together to make some of his outfit dreams come true

Mingi:

At fashion shows, Mingi thrives bc models tend to be really tall for some reason

As a short person, I am offended by tall people’s clothes

ANYWAY

Mingi is just looking at the pants like “I bet those would actually fit me on the first try”

And then he’s like “baby, I could be a model”

And you’re like “I already knew that, you’ve always been pretty”

He gets blushy aww

“I’m pretty” UWUUUUUU

And now that you’ve got him going you cant just let that blush fade away I mean its too cute

Don’t squander this opportunity to make our baby blush even harder

So literally every other model your whispering “you’d look better in that”

“You’d be the best model here, Minnie”

And eventually he’s smiling so big and blushing so hard that he’s like “stoop my cheeks hurt”

So you settle for giving him a lil smoochie on his cheek

But then he shall take his revenge

Starts complementing you even more than you had complemented him

Thus begins a complement war

By the end, both of you realize that you’ve ignored the last two sets of models and had just been telling each other how much you love each other over and over

Get a room you guys I mean really

Wooyoung:

Wooyoung is a giggly mess

The entire time

Because he thinks every little thing is funny

A model’s makeup is too extreme? He’s laughing

Someone’s hair is too wild? He’s laughing

Someone looks like they rolled straight out of a dumpster? he’s laughing and saying “thats you”

Like SHUT UP lmaoooo

He’s also laughing bc he’s imagining the members in all of the ugly outfits

Like “lmao imagine Hongjoong wearing that big ole hat”

“Imagine Seonghwa wearing those balloon shorts”

Like he’s so annoying lmao

But it does have you both laughing hard enough to get dirty looks from other spectators

Once he eventually calms down and hushes himself, he actually starts getting into it and thoroughly enjoys watching the way the clothes flow when the models walk and stuff

He finds it genuinely interesting to see how each artist has fit the clothes to each specific model’s body type

But he will still fit in some snide comments here and there to make sure you’re fully entertained

Bc if he’s not laughing… is it really Wooyoung

Jongho:

Okay Jongho is definitely into fashion

Whether he is obvious about his affinity for cool clothes or not, he’s into it okay

And he evaluates every look in terms of “would I look good in that? Would bae look good in that? Would any of the hyungs look good in that?”

Very thoughtful baby

Will take pictures to send to people and be like “this reminds me of you”

Will say it directly to you too

He is also kinda cheesy and poetic about it

“The bright pink reminds me of how happy you make me”

“That blue is like the sky when you’re around: cloudless”

Eventually you’re like “oh shut up ya freak” lmao

And then he’s laughing bc he’s embarrassed that he said all that

He’s like “why am I so cheesy”

And you low-key love it so you just smile at him

But then he keeps taking pictures of the models and eventually starts taking pictures of you bc he just loves you and finds you so breathtaking awww

At the end of the night he’s so sweet to you and thanks you for coming with him and hopes you had a good time and-

You just kiss him and tell him you had a lot of fun and you should definitely do it again next time there’s a show in town

He definitely agrees bc he really just loved sharing that experience with you

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initiumseries · 4 years

Text

CAOS Part 3 - review

Uh, okay, so I think by now, we all know this show is terrible. Netflix gives showrunners a lot of creative freedom, and I think, for better writers, you could get some really interesting content, but they just seem to keep giving these assholes who wrote the travesty called Riverdale, so many opportunities to make more shitty television, and I feel like they really deserve to be limited in their ability to create/write if not stopped completely and thrown into a well with Julie Plec. Anyway, I’ll try to break this down as best as I can into different piles of shit and this will contain spoilers:

Characters

Prudence and Ambrose

So, to be really honest, I watch this show exclusively for Prudence and Ambrose. Because, well, look at them:

I wish they had more chemistry because they are super hot together, and I still ship it. A young Black couple? On TV? In this sea of shitty interracial relationships? I’ll take it. Anyway, of course, the progression of their relationship is ridiculous and frustrating. Ambrose decides at the last minute, not to kill Father Blackwood because he has a weird time egg thing that they don’t really understand, also he has the twins under some weird mind control for no clear reason, so they stay their hands. It doesn’t make sense, but it becomes clear, Father Blackwood has an insane amount of plot armour and ultimately would have to serve as a vessel for Satan. Father Blackwood uses the manipulated mind of the other weird sister to sic her on the coven, and she ends up killing Dorkus, whom Prudence finds. She then blames Ambrose for not allowing her to kill FB, and they break up. Now...this would kinda make sense, if not for the fact that they trapped one of the pagan witches and forced her to change everyone back, but no one bothered to do anything about the mentally ill witch who you all strapped up for a reason? Lol ok. Seems like an oversight on your part Prudence, but...okay. Clearly manufactured breakups are exhausting, especially since [young] Black couples with no serious relationship dysfunction are now an endangered species. It’s also frustrating because we barely got to see them....*be* together, especially after they returned home.

Nick & Sabrina

So, I know from the beginning, we were supposed to believe that Nick and Sabrina had that kind of, Bad Guy, seduces the girl Good Girl, luring her into the dark side, hot, intense, passionate relationship. But their lack of chemistry and really shitty acting just made them really dry (which I get into here). I don’t believe them, and I definitely don’t believe that Sabrina would, once again, break a shit ton of rules to get Nick back. I just don’t buy that they had that kind of an intense, desperately in love, kind relationship, because they do not look all that comfortable around each other, much less in love.

I personally find Sabrina utterly unlikeable as a main character, largely because who IS she? She has no personality, she just does whatever the plot needs her to do in the moment, and the actress makes Sabrina appear smug and unremorseful while she fucks up everyone’s lives. There is a lot of exposition of everyone telling us she’s this power hungry, manipulative character, but we never see that. She just does stuff and everyone is all “Sabrina how could you?!” and there are never, ever any consequences. I would have liked to see her push so hard to get Nick back and the struggle being, sure she wants him back, but mostly she’s doing it because she can. But that’s not what happens.

So Nick ends up in this weird drug addiction, alcohol, sex demon spiral because he has parts of Satan still in him and it all just falls so flat and lame, because this show is SO bad at pacing, and these actors suck, so nothing is believable. The idea of him scrubbing his club foot, having nightmares, suffering PTSD, is fine, the execution was trash. Nick sees Caliban and Sabrina have one interaction and he’s like WELL, GUESS I GOTTA CHEAT. And just ends up in some S&M situation with sex demons and heavily self medicating, but none of this has any weight, and we don’t really see him...spiralling. He just immediately resorts to these things and it has no real impact on anyone or even him really, and that’s it.

Harvey and Roz

Uh, they’re probably the most confusing match here, because there is no lead up to their relationship, there’s not suggestion, there’s no pacing. Just BOOM, we’re into each other now. BOOM, Roz is the only sexually active person in her friend group (lol of course the Black girl is sexually active. Gotta maintain white innocence at all costs), so she’s just ready to jump Harvey’s bones any second now. So of course, the show punishes her by having the pagans turn her to stone. And as if that’s not bad enough...

Which I talk about here and here, because honestly I’m just sick of this show’s antiblackness. Theo & that other guy

So I was watching this unfold like, yeeaahh, they’re gonna make the trans guy get with the enemy aren’t they? And yes, they did. Cool, they didn’t kill him off, but I’m still perplexed at how Theo isn’t even a little upset that this guy was basically sent to infiltrate his friend group and sat by while his people harmed Theo’s friends, and also...used him? Like...we just...are gonna...gloss over that because he changed his mind? Lol ok. Sure.

Mambo Marie and suddenly Zelda?

I...I mean her name is Mambo Marie. I love the idea of Black witches finding Black spirituality and magicks through Vodun and a Hatian Priestess. But they quickly undo that, by ensuring that Mambo Marie only teaches Prudence in the presence of these white witches. And we see her...doing...an African drum circle (eye roll), only to be interrupted by the High Priestess of White Feminism, Zelda Spellman. It quickly devolves into thinly veiled racism where Zelda doesn’t trust Marie because she’s Catholic (says the woman who worships Satan, has an anti Pope and prays to Lilith with the same prayer for Mary mother of Jesus? LOL. Not even unpacking the fact that Vodun is an African spirituality having 0 roots in catholicism WHITE WRITERS). Then suddenly, out of nowhere, Marie and Zelda are a thing for no reason? After the way Zelda treated her? Why did Marie even stay? This isn’t her problem. This is a white witch problem. Okay. That’s too much to unpack.

Plot

So, my biggest problem with almost all Netflix English programming is that they are so obsessed with aesthetics, and don’t pay enough attention to actual character chemistry, plot, story flow, details, pacing etc. Like...things that actually make stories interesting to watch. So they slap all these people together and throw them into aesthetically pleasing backgrounds, shake it up with so much exposition that nothing actually happens, and are like BEHOLD A STORY. And CAOS is *especially* guilty for this.

First of all those musical breaks were annoying as fuck. Musicals serve 2 story functions: advancing the plot or telling a story. These musical numbers did neither and were honestly ridiculously gratuitous, highly annoying and totally pointless.

What time of year is this? Why are we having pep rallies and how the fuck and when did Sabrina and Roz join the cheeleading squad, and why?

for the aesthetics and not for any real plot reason. It just seems stupid because now I don’t know how much time has passed between Nick going to hell and this, because you’re all handling it like it’s been a few weeks and is still relatively fresh, but suddenly, Theo, Harvey and Roz are in a garage band? You’re a cheerleader? For what? Since when? Why? These choices introduce more questions than they answer and serve no narrative purpose. So much wasted time on shit that doesn’t matter.

Sabrina is supposed to be fighting Caliban (who is literally the only person she has chemistry with on this show and they killed him bc ofc they did), for her seat on the throne, and yet the trials only seem to come up when it’s convenient, and also seem to be directly related to her dealings with her coven, which is also convenient. I’m so confused about Satan. His powers come from being a celestial being, and so, because his coven mistreats him he’s like...lol okay, well fuck you guys and goes through all these convoluted small motions to greatly inconvenience them and withdraws his powers? This is so petty and pathetic. Also, what’s the point? He could just wipe them out and start over, instead of skulking around inside FB then suddenly decides to track down Lilith. Again, convoluted. This plot is all over the place. Why does Satan need Sabrina to be Queen of Hell in the first place? He seems perfectly healthy. Why can’t he just rule it? Like...that makes no sense. What is he gonna do? Retire? WHAT is going ON?

How did Sabrina come back in time to herself stuck in stone? Is that trip to Pontius Pilate (lol) supposed to have created a loophole for her to save herself and everyone? This is giving me hardcore Twilight Breaking Dawn vibes, where, the show finally, FINALLY gets interesting, there’s real stakes, shit is actually happening instead of everyone talking about things happening (Hilda ending up killing her fiance was literally the only time I felt something watching this show because it was genuinely sad, and well acted, and Hilda coming through with that doll at the end was pretty disturbing, I’ll give them that), and ofc, Sabrina goes back in time and undoes it all. Lol. Okay. God forbid there be real consequences to anything on this show.

Final thoughts

Once again, the white feminism runs high on this show. They treat this Black Vodun Priestess Marie, like garbage, allude to her “foreign” magic, but Marie is sitting here like “we’re not men, we’re women, let’s work together.” This is why I hate white writers writing for Black characters. Black characters should have Black motivations, and a Black Vodun Priestess, should know that white women and Black women do not have aligned motivations just because they share a gender. Once they started with the bullshit right from her arrival, she should have handed Prudence her card and peaced tf out. Instead she tolerates the isolation, ostracization and thinly veiled racism...and decides to stay, and help. WHY? Marie has gained nothing by sticking around helping these ungrateful ass witches. I honestly would have preferred Prudence asking her to stay to learn more about Vodun, and them building a mentor/mentee type of relationship, especially since Prudence was the one who invited her and stepped to Zelda to defend her. I want(ed) to see that relationship go somewhere. The deliberate denial of healthy Black female friendships on tv is frustrating.

These witches finally finding their power in their ancestors and I donno, some female creator or whatever, reminds me of white women “finding” wicca and praying to “Gaia”, (reminds me of BTVS s4 when Willow joins the wicca group) which is basically what happened but lol okay whatever. I guess they aren’t satanic witches anymore. Lol, I love how Harvey and Roz and Theo are teenagers, human teenagers, who have lead largely normal teenage lives up until this point, but see their loved ones tortured, deformed or murdered in hell, with basically no residual issues, and are all like, YES, let’s roll up on these adults with shotguns and swords and kill the FUCK outta these people!! That absolutely sounds normal! Like...what? Lol. God this is just so bad.

Also, I’m so confused by this aesthetic choice for Sabrina as Queen of Hell. Like what the fuck. Why is she dressed like a Victorian era queen, with shoulder and a broken rib bodice? What?!

This show is truly awful, this season made no more sense than the last two and now that Prudence and Ambrose aren’t together, I might be done watching.

-20/10

#caos season 3 #caos part 3 #caos prudence #prudence x ambrose #prudence night #ambrose spellman #the chilling tales of sabrina #sabrina spellman #caos spoilers #long post #caos review #rosalind walker #mambo marie #zelda spellman #hilda spellman #harvey kinkle #theo putnam

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jujutsu-headcanons · 3 years

Note

Yes to Yuji wrecking Mahito! Just so much yes my boy needs to avenge those wrongfully killed!

See I wanted Geto to be on my shit list (as I'm not normally a bad guy lover) but I swear he wore me down reading the manga. Plus he's just so pretty he makes my brain all static noises 😳 Not to mention that backstory between him and Gojo like YES give me all the drama I need buried drama 🤩

Totally agree on the Mai thing. See I wanted to hate Todo too bc of well him beating on Megumi but the moment him and Yuji were just like "Big Dumb Meat Heads" together I threw that out the window! Those two together are *chefs kiss* Absolutely stupendous I never get tired of them 👌👌👌

Mai on the other hand is just crawling more and more under my skin. Like why you gotta be like that gurl? You wanna go in the crusty corner with Mahito? Cuz you gotta crusty attitude that needs fixing like yesterday 😐

Literary brain tells me it wants more drama/character growth between Megumi and Toji. But my useless overly big heart wants to punch Toji and protect Megumi at all costs bc he just showed up on the screen like the kool aid man and burst right into my heart and I shan't forgive Megumi for that but now I will die for him so ¯\_( ツ)_/¯

But I'm not the only one who lowkey fantasizes about self inserty type day dreams??? Like every day all day I got my thoughts flowing into 500 different lil oneshots I'm too chicken to post anywhere bc I havent written anything in a while and I feel I'm rusty. But your idea! YOUR IDEA WOO BOI- I'm not even a Gojo fanatic (like I adore him but my heart dick thudded elsewhere RIP) but that scene you described of straddling him just to rip his blindfold off in the heat of an arguement that's clearly deadly to either party- Just to see him on the brink of tears fighting back every emotion to slate his composure to cocky/uncaring. Only to have it obviously failing, and the metaphorical reality around you both crumbling along with Gojo's emotional state- Oh God I would read that crap outta something like that. It fills me with the angst and I thrive on it daily *heavy breathing* You should think about posting more of your original content too! Self inserty or not bc that sounds down right brilliant on so many levels

💛anon

Bro I can't help but feel had for Gojo. That shit must have hurted. Like he looked so calm and collected when it all happened but was he really? His best friend potential lover went feral and murdered an entire village AND his family then he tried to kill his first years once and now AGAIN what is happening. Did you see the look on Gojo's face when Yaga told him he went rogue? That was a face of hurt and betrayal he couldn't even begin to understand at the young age of... What was it, 17? 18? He was practically a little itty bitty baby compared to now. I haven't read the prequel yet don't laugh at me but I've heard it hurts so much worse having to face Getou back then AND now. Stupid brain worms, stop fucking around.

I wanted to hate Todo too hut before he even turned good I couldn't. I have a thing for big buff boys who have zero brains and too much brawns I'm looking at you Metal Bat, Captain Ōbi I just wanna adopt/marry them because in all reality they're trying their best. I'm really glad Todo exists and has his big brother delusion because honestly I think that's something Yuji needs, especially in the current arc. Yuji needs as much support as he can get.

PFFFT CRUST CORNER I cannot with you omg they do need to sit on the time out chair for s bit and think about what they've done lmaooo

DID YOU CALL TOJI ZENIN- FUSHIGURO THE FUCKING KOOL AID MAN AHAHAHHHSH oh my god i hate this so fucking much or were you calling Megumi the koolaid man bc really each one is absurd n e wayz I dunno bro I rlly can't wait until Megs wakes up post Shibuya arc and actually has time to process what the fuck happened to him back then. I really want to know if he can connect the dots by himself and realize holy shit that was the source of my daddy issues right there in the flesh and how he reacts to him being a curse and all that. There's so many ways that can go too it's scary to think about.

Low key unrelated but I have a theory that Gojo can see everything from his little cube prison and knows what's going on. Its probably because of the six eyes, or because he's just fucking Gojo, or even because Geto seems kinda sadistic and would do something like that. But I can imagine him watching Megs and Toji fight and it absolutely destroying him. For starters, Gojo killed him .... Right? Wtf is he doing back? What? Second don't commit suicide in front of your kid oh my god Toji what (I'm probably just salty because of a past experience, but also, calm down Toji oh my god) and third I can see it hurting Gojo because in a way it feels like he's been trying to protect Megumi. Its obvious Gojo has this attachment to Megumi, and maybe it's because they've known each other so long, but I don't think Gojo is prepared to deal with the aftermath. Does he have to tell him, if Megs doesn't put the pieces together? Will he have to knock some sense into him to actually tell him? Because he DID try to tell Megs once before and he avoided it like the plague. Its also gotta hurt when you feel like someone's dad and you witness them have a bad interaction with their other dad.

Throw in his daughter being on the brink of death, his other son being emotionally demolished, his second year kids lost in the void and not even his void, his best friend locked him in a box, his other best friend exploded, etc. I think Gojo I pretty distraught even if he doesn't show it

Bro okay my brain is riddled with ideas like this and 90% of them are always angst. Idk where tf they come from half the time but they exist and I hate it. They're always self inserts too.

So I actually read this ask last night, but due to personal reasons I didn't reply to it now, and I actually started experimenting writing out this scenario. I had to stop when I wrote the line "Approximately one year after the first finger was consumed, Itadori Yūji was formally executed. At three minutes to midnight, Sukuna Ryomen was expelled from his body, destroying the vessel along with it. The executioner was none other than the teenager's teacher and mentor Gojo Satoru. When Y/N awoke to this news, they attacked on sight."

Oh god I made myself so sad with that line

And i do really want to post some of my fics, like I did with Nobara Meeting Sukuna For The First Time. However, I only posted that because it was short and simple lmao it was basically just a meme I didn't even run it though grammarly like I do with the headcanons.

I like sticking to the headcanons as of right now because I feel like grammar didn't exist when I make those. I can spell things wrong and leave off punctuation and word then like I'm a third grader just learning English and no one will laugh lmao. Fanfics kinda stress me out because i want them to be perfect. I also have a hard time with fight scenes and transitioning and it's s mess.

I REALLY want to write out my Guardian Angel! Junpei AU because I think it's so cute. Just the idea that this boy is assigned to fight against fate and the higher ups and keep Yuji alive despite him being an idiot and a target is cute to me. Like I just canon him being the plantonic equivalent of in love with this boy and he feels like he rlly owes it to Yuji for trying to save him it's the LEAST he can do. Plus I need the mental imagine if Junpei annoying reader-chan into finding Yuji because "they play a pivotal role in Yuji's future" just for the "pivotal role" to literally be playing therapist and just being there for him and being a medium between Junpei and Yuji because guardian angels aren't allowed to reveal themselves to the person they're guarding but also/// he might risk his wings being stripped just to talk to Yuji one more time////

Okay I'm going to stop now

But yea, maybe if I have time and create little mini works like Nobara Meeting Sukuna For the First Time I'll def post them! I'll work on casually making them longer and soon I'll be confident to posts longer ones. But until then I hope just the headcanons at alright ;-;

#.ask #💛 anon #long post

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gentlethorns · 4 years

Note

1-31

JKJFLKJGDKLS did you mean. 1 through 31?? like. all of them?? LMFAOOOOOO okay but i’m sticking them under a readmore bc that is gonna be SO long

1. what is a genre you love reading but will probably never write? mysteries/crime. i love the technique and expertise it takes to expertly lay out and set up a plot twist, but i don’t think i could ever do it aptly myself.

2. which writer has had the greatest stylistic influence on your writing? probably stephen king, if we’re talking fiction, but even then i don’t think he’s influenced me a ton - my writing voice is pretty distinctive (or so i’ve been told). as far as poetry, i think reading @candiedspit‘s work has really caused me to stretch my expectations of where words can go and what they can do.

3. has a specific song/lyric ever inspired a work of art for you? absolutely! i’m super inspired by music, bc music is really important to me as a means of emotional expression. back in sophomore year of high school i was working on a story where all the chapters were inspired by songs from folie a deux by fall out boy. it didn’t pan out and i never finished it, but i still think the concept was neat.

4. a writer whose personal lifestyle really speaks to you? lmfao not to talk about him again, but stephen king’s lifestyle really appeals to me. his writing is widely known and renowned, but he just chills at home and watches the red sox games and takes pictures of his corgi and keeps turning out stories. that literally sounds like paradise to me.

5. do you write both prose and poetry? which do you prefer? i do write both! and i can’t say i honestly prefer one over the other - my interest bounces between them and waxes and wanes, but i don’t consistently indulge one more than the other, i don’t think. last year i went through a huge fiction phase in october and cranked out eight or nine different short stories/flash pieces, and then in november/december i went through a poetry phase and wrote multiple poems a day for a long stretch of time. it just depends on my mood and my mindset and what i need from writing (a kind of escape vs. emotional expression/release).

6. do you read both prose and poetry? which do you prefer? i do read both, and again, i don’t think i have a preference. i definitely read fiction more, i think, but like writing, it kind of depends what i need at the time.

7. which language do you write in? which do you want to write in someday? i write in english, since it’s the only language i know. i’d like to learn spanish at some point, but i don’t know if i could ever write in spanish - i’m so firmly married to english grammar and structure that i don’t know if i could ever exercise the same control and mastery over spanish that i could english.

8. share a quote or verse that has been on your mind lately. “you said i killed you - haunt me, then!” from wuthering heights.

9. a writer/poet whose life you find interesting. *sigh*. stephen king. i’ve read his memoir/writing workshop book (”on writing”) and his success story always fascinates me. i just can’t imagine living in a shitty one-bedroom apartment with your wife and two kids and working days at an industrial laundromat and spending nights writing on a shitty wobbly desk in the laundry room, and you get your first manuscript accepted for publication, and eventually the paperback rights go up and you think you might get $60,000 if you’re really lucky, and then one day while your wife and kids are visiting the in-laws you get a call from your agent telling you that the paperback rights for your book sold for $400,000 and 200K of it is yours. that’s just literally. unfathomable to me lmfao.

10. what do you feel about the idea of someone unearthing your unseen or discarded drafts someday, long after your death? what about your personal journal? it’s really hard for me to imagine that happening, i think bc i tend to see myself as really like. insignificant or unimportant in the grand scheme of things, so i can’t imagine any part of me lasting beyond my life. also, it’s very hard for me to imagine someone i don’t know personally reading my work, probably because my work (especially a personal journal) is a window into me, and i have a hard time even letting people i trust see into that window sometimes, much less a stranger.

11. do you prefer to write in silence or listen to something? what do you listen to? i definitely prefer music in the background, although i can work in silence. i tend to gravitate to music that goes with the scene i’m writing, if i’m writing fiction (often i work music into my fiction, so if there’s a song playing in the scene, i’ll listen to that song), and if i’m writing poetry i tend to just listen to laid-back music (unless i’m writing from a place of grief or sadness, in which case i listen to sad music lmfao). i do also love writing when it’s storming outside and just listening to the rain and the thunder as i write.

12. has an image ever impacted your artistic lens/inspired your work? absolutely! less often than music, but visuals can inspire me on occasion. i once wrote a poem based on this image. i just couldn’t get it out of my head, so i decided to figure out what it was saying to me.

13. how would you describe the experience of writing itself? as in putting the words to paper, not planning or moodboards etc. do you agree with the common idea that the satisfaction lies in reading your work after you are done with it, rather than the process of writing itself? i think the process can be arduous sometimes, and other times it can be incredible. sometimes i write very slowly and haltingly, sometimes i write at a normal pace and it feels like the work it is (bc i am trying to write professionally), but sometimes the magic tap in the mind turns on and it starts flowing. that being said, i don’t necessarily agree that the satisfaction lies only in reading your work rather than also in the process. there’s a certain fulfillment in watching everything come together and knowing it’s going to be good.

14. how often do you write? it varies. i would like to write more often than i do, now that i have a full-time school schedule and work part time friday-sunday, but i think i still get a decent amount of writing done, when i can actually sit down and motivate myself to get the words out.

15. how disciplined are you about your writing? not very, in the creative sense - as discussed above, i don’t write as often as i should/would like to, and don’t hold myself to much of a schedule. however, as far as the business side of it (submitting to magazines/contests), i’m pretty disciplined, and i’m usually pretty good about keeping all my “good” pieces in circulation at a couple of places at a time.

16. what was your last long-lasting spurt of motivation? maybe last night? i worked on a couple of pieces and then submitted a few groups of poems to some magazines. i also did some decent work on thursday while i was in my campus starbucks waiting for my zoom class to start.

17. have you ever been professionally published? are you trying to be? i have been professionally published! i got my first acceptance back in 2018, and now i’ve had poetry published multiple times and fiction published twice. i’m still trying to publish more of my work, but i think i’ve had a decent start.

18. do you read literary magazines? not regularly, although i entered a fiction contest for into the void last year, and since it came with a year-long subscription, i’ve been browsing the fiction there periodically. into the void tends to publish good short/flash fiction, so anytime i feel like reading some new stories, i head there.

19. a lesser known writer you adore? idk if she’s necessarily “lesser-known,” but i loved ally carter’s gallagher girl series when i was younger. the first four books were immaculate (although i do remember that the last two books seemed almost unnecessary, and the ultimate end of the series was anticlimactic).

20. do you write short stories? do you read them? i write and read them! up until october of last year i could never figure out how to write a short story and effectively resolve a conflict in 5000 words or less, but then suddenly (like. literally overnight), a switch flipped in my head and i could do it. as far as reading them, i don’t read a ton anymore bc of my busy schedule ( :( ), so sometimes if i’m in the mood to read i’ll opt for a short story online or a book of short stories instead of a full-length novel.

21. do you prefer to involve yourself with literary history and movements or are you more focused on the writing itself? any favourite literary movements? i’m typically more focused on the writing itself, although i do love to learn about the horror boom from the 50s-80s (if that counts as a literary movement lmfao). i also do particularly love work from the era of deconstructionism, which i think took place in like. the 40s-60s, if i’m not mistaken. i enjoy that era bc of its symbolism and abstract nature - a lot of the work leaves the reader to draw their own conclusions.

22. are you working on anything right now? not particularly? i have a few works in progress that i tinker with now and then, but i’m not seriously working on anything in particular.

23. how did you get started with writing? i honestly don’t even remember. i remember the first time i realized that i really liked writing and had fun doing it (in fourth grade, for a school competition), but i know that even before then i was writing stories and poems.

24. do you have any “writer friends”? most of my mutuals are writer friends! but i don’t have any irl. i almost made one in my math class last semester, but we lost contact when our university shut down in march.

25. what is your earliest work you can remember? the earliest work i can remember is when i was really young (maybe like. five or six?). it was about our dog being pregnant (which she was at the time) and able to talk (which she was not).

26. have you found your writer’s voice yet? does your work have a distinct tone? absolutely. i’m very confident in my style and the distinctiveness of my voice - it’s been there pretty much since i first started writing. i’ve improved since then, honed my voice and made it more sophisticated and effective, but at the core, it’s still me, like it always has been.

27. do your works share themes/are commonly about certain topics? or are your subjects all over the place? in poetry, i think i tend to write about grief or loss of some sort or another often, bc it’s something i tend to feel often - either that or a false bravado (but ig that’s more of a tonal device). as far as fiction, i like to write about religion gone wrong (false religion, religion as a front for personal gain and corruption, religion gone too deep into obsession and mania, etc.), and i like smart underdog-type characters that fight and have a lot of grit to them.

28. what does writing mean to you? to me, writing is catharsis, a bloodletting. this particularly applies to poetry, but it also applies to fiction. poetry shows you the things you’re regurgitating up-front, but fiction does it slyly, in a mirror or through a distorting lens. regardless, both stand to offer release and healing.

29. in an alternate universe, imagine you had not found writing. what do you think would be your fixation otherwise? honestly, i’m not sure. probably acting or theater. something creative, for sure.

30. do you feel defined by your work? maybe a little, but not to a large or limiting extent. like, in a new class, my interesting fact about myself will probably always be “i’m a writer and i’ve been published a few times,” but i think that i’m a well-rounded person and that once people get to know me, my writing is just a part of me, not my whole identity.

31. have you ever written/considered writing under a pen name? if you would be okay saying, why? no, i don’t think i have. while a pen name can be a good tool, depending on your goals and what you’re writing, i have a Thing about getting credit where i’m due credit lmfao. i don’t think i’ll ever use a pen name bc if i know something i do is good, i want my name on it.

#asks #anon #thirty-one asks for writers #JAKFJDLJDALKJ this was so long thank you for asking

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lilhemmo · 5 years

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may seem weird but... i've seen you reblog a decent amount of vegeta so i feel comfortable asking you this hehe. would you be willing to write a vegeta x reader story?? maybe of how he's not used to affection but the reader just kinda is forceful about it??? like doesn't get fazed when he rejects her kisses bc she sees him blushing, etc. and then maybe eventually she stops and he gets frustrated and is like "excuse me why did you stop???" please and thanks! love your writing!

a/n: i’ve been holding onto this one bc i’ve never written for db and i’m totally scared i’ll prob lose a bajillion followers, but may as well start now! i appreciate the ask :) fem!reader for, well, because vegeta frequently uses the term “woman”

ps. apparently this is just me word dumping. not sure if the story even makes sense??? but hey, first time is first time. hopefully you like it!

tw: blood, language, etc. the usual for db

It was normal for you to tag along when Goku and the gang got caught up in some sort of crazy scheme with a new bad guy to defeat. You were their healer, after all.

Sensu beans could heal the combatants, but it was not always healthy if they were given an alternative route should the time arise.

And today, after fighting a huge, man-turned-monkey, everyone was worse for wear. Including the superhuman in question.

It took a while, but somehow, Goku convinced him to return to Earth and train together. Given that they were the last of the Saiyan race, you swear you saw some sort of light flash in the Prince’s eyes before he mellowed and spat out some retort akin to a thank you.

“You can shack up at Capsule Corp if you need a place to stay,” Bulma offers to him on the ride back to base. She smiles over her shoulder and he bristles, “You’re basically homeless now anyway.”

“Bulma!” you snap, turning to her in the driver’s seat. “The man has lost his race, have you no filter?!”

You see that his shoulders vibrate with tension, “I do not need you to defend me, woman! I am the Prince of all Saiyans, I can speak for myself.”

“Prince of Nothing, if you ask me,” Bulma mutters.

Vegeta growls in the backseat, but he’s too wounded to do much of anything towards the billionaire mechanic. Instead, he closes his eyes and evens out his breathing, and eventually you believe he falls asleep.

It took much time to seal up the Prince’s wounds. No one thought he was yet worthy of a sensu bean, instead opting to have you stitch him up and provide medication to help numb the pain.

You noticed as you stitched up the various gashes on his body that he whimpers in his sleep. His body moves strangely at the waist, but you realize that he’s searching for a tail long since cut at the base. Even though it shouldn’t, it saddens you for the Prince. So much lost in such little time. It can drive a man mad.

Apparently, it has.

Your body freezes as he groans and his eyes flit around behind closed lids. You instinctively reach out and cover his hand with your own, “It’s okay, it’s just me. You’re in the med bay, on a heavy dose of narcotics. You need to settle.”

“Damn Earth-woman,” he mutters, shaking his head and willfully pushing his eyelids open, “I won’t listen to your drivel. Where is Kakarot?”

You press firmly on his shoulder and he winces but falls back into the bed with little struggle thanks to the medication. You knew he’d need a large dose given his Saiyan metabolism.

“Goku,” you correct snidely, “is eating outside with the others.”

His upper lip curls and you’re ready for some spiteful drabble, but it never comes. Instead, he turns his head and scowls off in the distance.

You’re not sure what comes over you, but you reach up and push your hand over his hair, brushing the sweat-laden tendrils out of his eyes. Before your hand can come into contact with his skin, his right arm juts out and secures your wrist in his grasp.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asks, glaring deep into your eyes.

You don’t back down, and you’re not sure if it’s because you’ve finally found someone to rival your stubbornness, or if it’s purely out of spite, “I’m trying to be kind. Is there no kindness where you’re from?”

“The world is unkind, woman,” he barks, tossing your hand to the wayside. Vegeta takes a breath and tilts his head, “I do not expect it to change now.”

You’re not sure when it happened, but at some point you quite liked it when Vegeta would show up to the medical bay for patching up. Even now, months later, he’s not entrusted with the sensu beans because there is such a small supply of them and he’s still not proven his loyalty.

“Damn Kakarot,” he winces as you stitch up a split on his bicep. You notice the puckering of pink scars all along his chest and back as you’ve walk around his body. There’s no telling where they’ve all come from.

You run your thumb over the edge of the last stitch, swallowing thickly, “You’ll get better, now that Bulma’s designed the anti-gravity room.”

Vegeta clicks his tongue against his teeth and looks away from you, “It shouldn’t take special training for me to defeat Kakarot in our sparring matches. I shouldn’t have to try this hard.”

“But you do,” you emphasize, “so just work with the tools you’ve been given.”

Vegeta rolls his eyes, “You’re so dense, woman. It should not be this way. I am Prince Vegeta, and Kakarot is…not. He wasn’t even raised on our home land.”

You shrug and find that while he’s distracted with his inequities, he’ll allow the gentle brush of your fingers against his scars, old and new alike. You swallow, “I think that everyone here has a role to play. I, for one, am glad that you’re not their main target.”

His head cocks to the side at this, and your finger stills against his shoulder, “And why would you say that?! Are you seriously so dense that you would want me seen as weak just so they would point the finger at Kakarot? That miserable excuse of a Saiyan?!”

You grip his bicep so hard your nails bite into his flesh. He grits his teeth but you don’t let him speak, “I’d rather them go after Goku, yes! Now shut up and let me patch your eye.”

In the heightened argument, Vegeta’s brow begins to bleed again, trickling down to his chin before dripping into his lap. You reach out with a cotton pad and brush away the crimson liquid, never missing the way his lips quirk when you touch him.

“You humans are a strange race,” he mutters, licking the corner of his mouth. “I’m not sure I’ll ever come to understand you.”

It’s been too long, you think. It’s been far too long.

You swallow thickly, your eyes hot with the thoughts of what could be keeping them away. You curl up in the corner of the bench stationed on the patio, wrapping your arms around your legs and holding tight. The stars in the sky, blinking brightly, make you wonder if maybe that’s their power spiking and ebbing as they fight whatever force it is so far away.

“They’ll be back soon,” Bulma speaks soothingly, offering you a bowl of soup.

You wave your hand, your eyes never breaking away from the constellations. You roll your lips together and wish the blush away from your face.

As if the universe senses your distraught heart, a bright white flash of light appears down on the ground and two broken fighters crumble into the grass.

You’ve never sprinted faster in your life.

Your knees buckle underneath you as you join the Saiyans in the dirt, your hands roaming over the broken chest plate to touch raw flesh, blood pulsing under your fingertips.

“Woman,” he speaks weakly, “get your filthy paws off me.”

You scoff and duck your head into his neck, uncaring to the smell of blood and sweat radiating from him. You laugh through tears and he bristles under your touch, hands stilling at his hips.

“I thought you’d died,” you murmur, leaning back and taking in all of his injuries. You swallow thickly, “I-I thought I couldn’t feel your energy for a moment.”

“Oh, you think so little of me,” he winces, grasping at his side. “If Kakarot were to arrive home, so would I!”

“I know,” you speak slowly, fighting a smirk. You put your arm under his shoulders and he fights you for a moment, but practically passes out against you.

“Stupid Saiyan,” you mutter, dragging him to the med bay where you have a stash of sensu beans. “I’m always cleaning up after your messes.”

It took a while before Vegeta would spend time in the common rooms of Capsule Corp with the others, but once he did, you couldn’t help but to gravitate towards him.

You start with touching him on the shoulders from behind, brushing fingertips against the muscle of his back to ask a question in quiet.

“What?!” he snaps, turning so his lips brush your cheek by accident. Your entire being turns beet red, but you repeat your question anyway, “Would you like something to eat?”

And then it turns to sitting too close on the couch, knees brushing while watching the news and drinking your protein shakes and coffee respectively. When your knee strays towards his, you watch as his body tenses, and in spite alone, you press your thigh against his own and relax further into the couch. You bring the cup to your lips as a bright red tint paints his cheeks.

And then the inevitable occurs - you fall asleep against his shoulder.

You’re fully expecting him to punt you off the couch and back to your apartment room within Capsule Corp. You’re surprised when the only thing that occurs is his body completely seizing up on the couch cushions.

You flow in and out of sleep, drifting from one plane to the next. You feel heat radiating against your body, but it only brings you back to your slumbering state.

The feel of an arm around your shoulders jolts you awake but you barely pry open your eyes thanks to the darkness of the room. The television is still playing some mindless channel, but Vegeta’s arms have scooped you up and he’s started towards your room.

You try to murmur something, but your head lolls to the side and you find your nose nuzzled against his neck. You can feel his pulse hammering against your skin, but it only lulls you back to sleep.

The last time you wake is when you feel your body laid down in your bed, covered by your sheets. You reach out and grasp him by the wrist, pulling him close enough you can speak in your sleep-ridden voice.

“Stay.”

After you’ve said it, you regret it. Where did that even come from?

Vegeta’s forearm pulsates with muscle as his body tenses. A strangled noise comes forth from his throat and you swear you hear him crumble down to one knee.

You can now touch his cheek, and so you go for it. You know that in the morning you can pretend it never happened if he rejects you - you can blame it on sleep. Maybe you were dreaming? He’ll never have to know.

Your palm spreads over the expanse of his face, cupping his jaw so the tip of your index brushes his earlobe. He’s hot to the touch, both thanks to his Saiyan blood and his blushing body.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he spits, tearing his arm away from you.

Angry tears flood to your eyelids and you try to hold back a sniffle but it’s no use. You roll over and curl into yourself, digging your head into the pillows.

It’s okay, you think, I’ll save myself from the nightmares.

You must have said it out loud, because Vegeta gasps next to you. It takes a moment, but you feel the bed dip beside you. Instantly, your body warms. You smile and curve your body backwards, sucking in a breath.

“You’ve come a long way, Saiyan Prince,” you murmur, reaching behind you to grasp him by the wrist. “From trying to destroy my world to saving it. From being my nightmare to making your way into my dreams.”

A grunt puffs breath onto your neck, hot enough to send a jolt down your spine, “Don’t get used to it, woman. I won’t be kind a second time.”

“I know,” you try not to be chastising. You turn your head to catch his dark eyes, glinting thanks to the moonlight filtering through your window. You repeat his words from so long ago, “The world is unkind. I don’t expect it to change.”

He is silenced by your words, thought drawing his brow and wrinkling his forehead. You take advantage of the silenced Saiyan to curl into him and savor the warmth.

For it is gone when the sun rises. As if he were never there at all.

You weren’t surprised that it was you to kiss Vegeta first.

Apparently, no one was surprised. Except Vegeta.

Whis returns with both Goku and Vegeta in tow, dragged behind him like sacks of flour. Their bodies are riddled with bruises and cuts, eyes swollen shut and knuckles battered beyond recognition.

“I came as soon as I could,” the angel sighs. “It appears they were badly injured prior to my arrival. I assumed a sensu bean would make things better?”

Bulma sprints off in search of the bag of sensu she keeps locked away for emergencies, but you’re focused on the Saiyan in Whis’s left hand.

“I-Is he?” you stutter, unable to feel his energy.

Whis’s face hangs low, his usually pastel skin a deep blue color. He sighs, “I grabbed them as soon as I could. You know how Lord Beerus can be. I will likely be chastised when I return to our world.”

“Thank you,” you manage. You drop to your knees and spread your hands out over his chest, looking at the bleeding wounds protruding from under his cracked chest plate. You thought Bulma had reinforced this one, but it appears you will have to make some adjustments. Perhaps a healing patch where his heart would be?

“We’ll have to chew them for them,” Bulma tells you, “they’re both unconscious and won’t be able to swallow the bean whole.”

You take the sensu bean from her hand and crush it between your teeth, forcing yourself to keep it between your molars instead of swallowing it as you’re used to doing. You lean down and take Vegeta by the cheeks, pressing your mouth to his and transferring the bean to his tongue.

After a moment, the color returns to his face and you can’t help the tears that well up in the back of your lids and threaten to spill over.

“Wh-What happened?” he croaks, trying to reach up to touch his battle wounds but unable to move his arms just yet. He looks up at you and his entire body goes hot, realizing at once just how close the two of you are.

He barely has a second to react when you thread your fingers into his hair and pull him roughly by the head to crush your mouth to his own. Vegeta’s left hand barely grazes your thigh when he comprehends what is going on and snaps away from you.

“H-How dare you?” Vegeta spats, eyes widening. His hair begins to glow at the tips, his Super Saiyan form threatening to overtake his body.

You don’t care, though, and instead you drag him so you’re hugging him around the shoulders, your shaking body sagging against him as you cry. “Shut up,” you mumble, gripping him as tightly as possible. “I thought I lost you.”

“Gross, Bulma!” you hear from across the courtyard. “I haven’t even kissed my own wife, why would I want to kiss you!?”

“It wasn’t a kiss, you oaf!” Bulma shouts back at her lifelong friend. Her eyes are bright and wide as she pokes her finger into his damaged chest, “I was simply transferring a sensu bean from my mouth to yours, nothing else! Gee whiz, for a pretty simple guy you make things too complicated.”

“I-I’m so-” Vegeta starts, your head still buried into his neck. You feel the heat of his hand hesitate before pressing flat against the small of your back. A grunt breaks up his words, and you don’t press him. You’re just thankful he’s still here.

“Saiyans show affection through their tails, Kakarot,” Vegeta explains over dinner one night. Bulma ordered in a ton of food, and they were both exhausted from a particularly long training session. “We do not do the human rituals of mating.”

You tilt your head, stabbing a shrimp and putting it between your lips. You listen, never giving input, but allowing the words to sink in as you understand how the past years he’s done nothing but recoil at your affections. You, as a human, are not sure how else to communicate how you feel, given that the Saiyan is not very articulate either.

“That explains so much!” Bulma giggles. “No wonder you don’t know what to do every time she touches you.”

Your face goes red as everyone at the table looks at you and Vegeta, sitting too close because it’s too comfortable. His foot hits yours under the table and you want your body to melt right then and there.

Instead of bowing down, you sit up straighter and try to keep your features even, “It isn’t my fault that Saiyans are incapable of understanding human affection. Sounds like a personal problem to me.”

Vegeta’s ears perk at this, and a smirk paints his lips.

And from that day forward, you vow that you’re going to keep your distance. In fact, you do so for three months before you start to notice the cracks in Vegeta’s metaphorical emotional armor.

He begins to lean in closer to you when he speaks. He always makes sure no one else sits near him on the couch to watch television. He always passes the med bay after training, wondering if you’re available with a sensu bean.

For some reason, his body feels cold at the lack of your presence. He tries fighting more with Kakarot, but that does little to fill the void. The Saiyans were a proud race, with strong women who held the families together. He’s not sure if he’s missing that, or missing you.

You’re curled up on the couch the next time you feel his touch. It’s hauntingly familiar, and a heat shoots up your spine.

Even so, in your slumber, your senses become groggy and you reach out and deck him in the jaw with a left hook.

Vegeta stumbles back and you jolt forward, profusely apologizing and fussing over the incident. You don’t miss the smirk as he stands back to his full height, fists curled by his side.

“I knew you were strong, woman,” he grits his teeth and you swear he’s in his battle stance. “I just never knew how strong. Of course, you’re nothing for a Saiyan, but for a human, you’re remarkable.”

You hide the tint on your cheeks and cross your arms over your chest.

“However,” Vegeta begins, mimicking your position, “it’s not how I would have liked to feel your touch.”

The both of you stare at each other then, and you’re unable to produce words. After the conversation about Saiyan mating rituals, you assumed Vegeta wanted nothing to do with you, given your lack of tail.

He swallows thickly, his throat bobbing. Even still, his voice sounds more like a bark than the typical man, “I did not realize how-accustomed I had become to you. I may not understand how humans show affection, but I think that’s what you’ve been doing. Am I wrong?”

You step forward, your lip between the bite of your teeth, “This entire time you’ve been rejecting it, recoiling from it. I decided to take the hint.”

Vegeta’s eyes squint shut and his fists tighten in front of him, knuckles turning white under the strain. He looks at you and you see the faintest of blue eyes threatening to come to the surface should he express any further frustration.

“I am not used to touch,” he admits, voice hollow. “The only touch I receive is from battle, and I did not realize how comforting it could be to have someone else’s hands tending your wounds and touching your skin. I’ve only ever had those who touch me try to harm me.”

You reach out and tentatively frame his cheek with your palm, “I do not wish to anger you, Vegeta.”

“I know that now,” his voice is still proud despite the admission.

“Carry me?” you ask, raising both arms to rest around his neck.

Vegeta smirks, eyes closing for a moment before sweeping you up by your knees and your shoulders, cupping you close as he flies to your apartment. It isn’t far, but the wind in your hair and the stardust in the sky makes the short flight worth it.

This time, when he puts you into bed, you do not have to ask him to stay. He simply curls up behind you and waits for you to come closer. Your body is like a magnet, drawn to him in the dark. Your ankles thread together and you touch his chin with your thumb.

In an instant, your lips are on his, but the moment is short as you pull away with a small smile.

“Ah, a sneak attack,” he mutters, his free hand reaching up to touch his lips. “Not sure how I would feel about that in front of the others.”

“In front of the others?” you echo.

Vegeta nods firmly, “Hm.”

You’re not sure what overtakes you next, but whatever it is, Vegeta is impressed. Your body rolls flush with his, your lips slotted firmly against his own as your hands touch his face. It takes a moment to find some sort of rhythm, but once you’ve found it, you don’t let it go.

“Now I have to let them know that you’re mine,” he grunts against your mouth. “Can’t have that nasty old pervert of a man looking at you anymore. If he does, he’ll have to deal with me.”

You giggle, tucking your head against his neck to press a featherlight kiss there. He lets out a strangled noise from the back of his throat, so you do it again, but harder this time. His pulse thumps against your lips and you smirk, “I can’t wait.”

When the both of you arrive to breakfast the next morning with bedhead and hickeys, everyone starts passing around money to pay up on their bets. Turns out, you and Vegeta were inevitable.

a/n: hope you liked it! that was fun to write! prob won’t get a ton of notes, but i appreciate the ask anyway :)

#vegeta #dragonball #dragonball super #vegeta x reader #vegeta imagine #vegeta fanfic #vegeta fanfiction #dbs #dragon ball super imagine #dragon ball super fanfic #vegeta one shot #my writing

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