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#but with the girls moving on w their careers i feel like i really should just keep up w it but. hopefully i will do that lol
kimmkitsuragi · 8 months
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I MISSED LOONA MUSIC FR
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8 notes · View notes
yoon-kooks · 1 year
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the lingerie era | myg
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🦋pairing: neighbor!yoongi x reader (f)
🦋genre: smut, fluff, f2l, neighbor!au, childhoodfriend!au, best friend’s older brother, lingeriemodel!reader
🦋summary: Sending Min Yoongi, aka your ridiculously hot neighbor/childhood friend, a photo of yourself in lingerie might be the best or stupidest mistake you’ve ever made.
🦋word count: 10.1k
🦋warnings: fingering, oral (m receiving), corruption kink, gagging, deepthroating...? rough sex w/protection, implied masturbation (m), light degradation, the way oc becomes a slut for his cock so quick, yoongi touches boobies, nipple play, dirty talk, yoongi teasing reader for 4263 years straight bc he's mean
a/n: this is the extended version of the airdrop incident! if you haven't read that drabble already, it's fine bc that scene is included in this one!💖
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An onlooker might be wondering why you’re standing outside your neighbor’s door at ass o’clock in nothing but an oversized tee, but the answer is simple. Mistakes were made. You’re an idiot.
Approximately five minutes ago, you thought it’d be cute to send your best friend Mo a photo from your first day at your new job. But it wasn’t just any photo. It was a photo of you in strappy black lingerie, lying on beige silk sheets all glowy and oiled up. You’re gazing up into the camera lens like it’s the dark eyes of a man about to rail you. 
As weird as it sounds to be sending that kind of photo to your best friend, you’ve known her your entire life and she’s always been the number one supporter of your modeling career. In fact, she’s the one who bugged you for the pics in the first place.
You have no regrets for wanting to share the photo with your best friend. You just hate yourself for thinking it’d be fine to AirDrop it since she lives right next door. In your defense, your company is paying for your work phone—the new iPhone—and you were eager to play around with all the random features you won’t otherwise be using. Besides, AirDrop has a small range and Mo is your neighbor, so it was the perfect opportunity to test it out. In theory, she would’ve received the photo no problem—if she were actually home.
But Mo wasn’t home. You’d realized that too late after the AirDrop had gone through to someone else. Mortified is an understatement of how you felt when she sent a text saying, “GIRL;;;; I’m at Namjoon’s place rn;;;; I  am NOT in AirDrop range🥲”
For a good two minutes, you were convinced it must’ve been some creepy stalker who’d accepted your AirDrop… or the sweet elderly lady who lives across the street and occasionally drops off a tray of baked goods. You could totally see her accidentally accepting the AirDrop, only to be blindsided and violated by that photo of you. There’s no way in hell you’ll be able to return her sparkly red reindeer platter from her last cookie delivery. Not after she’s seen you like that.
But then an even darker thought came to mind. And you’d take creepy stalker or innocent granny over that any day.
That’s how you ended up on your neighbor’s doorstep at ass o’clock.
After letting you stand out in the cold for a whole ass minute, he finally answers the door. “He” as in Min Yoongi, your childhood friend slash nemesis, the older brother of your best friend, or, in the simplest terms, your hot neighbor.
And when you say “hot,” you mean really hot. Your innocent little crush on him was cute when you were ten, but the admiration has since evolved into pure lust. You’ve admittedly thought about him in ways you should not be thinking about a childhood friend let alone your best friend’s brother. 
Whenever you catch a glimpse of his big hands, you wish they were on your body, you wish his long veiny fingers would curl inside you, and the tiniest part of you wishes he wasn’t someone you had a long history with. You always feel like you have to be on your toes around him because of that history. Because you know it can all fall apart with one wrong move—like accidentally sending him a suggestive lingerie photo. Oops.
“Yes?” he raises a brow, staring at the way you’re shivering outside his door, the way your perky nipples are most definitely poking through your shirt. You’re sure he sees it all. But given the fact that he’s practically seen you naked, you don’t even bother covering up. What’s the point?
“Did you, by chance, get an AirDrop like five minutes ago?” you get straight to the point. It’s fucking freezing, after all. He could’ve at least asked you to come inside for a sec. You would’ve declined to avoid the risk of temptation, but still.
“Depends,” he hums, eyes still very much on your chest. The boy has no shame apparently. You’re pretty sure he’s dating that pretty brunette you’ve seen sneaking in and out of his house lately, so why’s he looking at you like that? “What was the AirDrop?”
“A picture of me,” you mumble. It was freezing a minute ago, but now your face feels hot. That’s weird.
“Hmm, not sure if the one I’m thinking of is you or not.” The bastard puts on his most exaggerated thinking face—like that emoji with the hand on his chin. You hate him. “What were you wearing?”
“Nothing!” you squeak at him. Both of you know no one fucking uses AirDrop except old people. He’s obviously playing dumb and knows what’s going on. He just wants to hear it from your mouth to make his ego bigger than it already is. “You know what I’m talking about.”
“Pretty sure you were wearing something…” he furrows his brow, unlocking his phone to “confirm” what he saw. You snatch the phone out of his hand, but he seems to remember the contents of the photo just fine. “Ah, yes. Black strappy lingerie, right? I didn’t know you were like that, Y/N.”
“Fuck you,” you hiss as you scroll through and search for the picture in question. AirDrop must have its own stupid section on the phone because you can’t find it anywhere.
“Relax, I already deleted it,” he chuckles at how determined you are. You’re not falling for it. Surely he’s already leaked the photo on OnlyFans. You don’t have a whole lot of faith in Min Yoongi. He’s never been The Nice Guy. “Who were you trying to send it to?”
“None of your business.” He has a girlfriend, after all. Why should he care about who you’re sending those kinds of pictures to?
“My sister?”
“Fine. Yes, her.”
“You’re sneaking around sending nudes to my sister? On AirDrop?” he narrows his eyes. Why does he seem more disgusted at the AirDrop part? You’d laugh if you weren’t so stressed. “She’s in a very committed relationship, you know.”
“I’m aware.” You don’t know what’s worse—him thinking you’re hitting on his sister aka your best friend, or admitting the pic was from a photoshoot for your new job. There are no winners here. Might as well come clean. “She’s the one who asked for pics so she could fangirl over her lingerie model best friend.”
“My little Y/N grew up and became a lingerie model?” He tilts his head, intrigued. He might’ve deleted the pic from his phone, but you bet the image is forever ingrained in that fuckboy head of his. You wonder how his girlfriend feels about him thinking of other girls in that context. You’d feel shitty. He’s a horrible boyfriend. “In that case, I’d also like to show support. Mind if you send the pic ag—” 
You cut him off with a growl. His eyes slowly work their way up your bare legs to your chest to your death glare.
“I kid, I kid.” He waves his hands like a white flag so you don’t pounce on him. But then something occurs to him. His smug look turns into a frown. “Wait, so AirDropping it to me wasn’t ‘an accident’?” he asks with air quotes.
“No, it was a real accident, Yoongi,” you scoff. You can’t believe he thought you’d intentionally sent that pic to him. He’s so full of himself. He’s the last person you’d ever want to see those pics.
“Well that’s no fun.”
“Elaborate.”
“It would’ve been kinda cute if you did it to get my attention,” he shrugs, leaning his head against the doorframe. “Just like when we were younger. Remember how you’d always tug on my arm and pout until I acknowledged you?”
“No, but it’s kinda weird that you remember it.” You finally cross your arms in front of your chest. “It’s also kinda weird that you want my attention when that’s what your girlfriend is there for.”
“It’s kinda weird that you keep up with my love life and know I have a girlfriend,” he fires back at you in his usual arrogant tone. “I’m breaking up with her, by the way. Just in case you wanted to know.”
You pause the petty war for a second. Min Yoongi is breaking up with his girlfriend because you accidentally sent him one (1) risqué photo of yourself? To be fair, you do look pretty hot in that photo. But still! You’ve known the guy your whole life, and all it’s ever amounted to was banter with a hint of feelings and dirty thoughts on your end. You’d always assumed Yoongi thought of you as nothing more than his little sister’s friend. Surely he’s just toying with you right now. Because that’s what fuckboys do. 
That’s what Min Yoongis do.
“Good to know,” you nod, the cold breeze coming back. You better leave now before you do something stupid again. Stupid AirDrop. “Well, I’m gonna go now. It’s fucking cold.”
You drop his phone into his palm, your fingers grazing his in the process. They’re so warm. But your fluffy blanket is warmer. And it’d never betray you.
“Thanks for only being a slight dick about the pic,” you say, scurrying off to your doorstep.
“Anytime,” he smirks. Asshole. “I’ll AirDrop you later.”
“I don’t want your dick pics, sir.” You hear his laugh before closing the door.
A minute later, you get an AirDrop of what you hope is not in fact a dick pic. You accept it immediately. It’s a blurry selfie of him on his bed, flipping you off with an emphasis on how much extra mattress space he has. That has to be the quickest breakup of all time. They don’t call him a fuckboy for nothing.
He accompanies the selfie with a simple text:
Yoongi🗿 [2:03AM] “Your loss”
The rest of the night is spent staring at the extra space next to him on his bed. He’s taunting you. Teasing you. Tempting you to do something you’ll surely regret. Well, you’re not taking the bait. The accidental AirDrop was an honest mistake, but this one would be all on you. Because you understand the risks.
It’s best to keep things how they are between you two.
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After a night of tossing and turning, your week somehow gets worse. Your car decides to malfunction fifteen minutes before you’re supposed to be at work. You swear it was working perfectly yesterday. Then again, you don’t know shit about cars.
Your first instinct is to call Mo. You like to think of yourself as a prepared person, but shit happens. And when shit happens, Mo is your person—your one phone-a-friend. But you know she’s with Namjoon, and you know she’d drop everything including him for you—you’d do the same for her. You’d rather not be a cockblock when things are going so well for them.
Alternatively, you would’ve borrowed your parents’ car, but they moved into a nicer place a few years ago and reluctantly left you behind after a lot of convincing on your end. You can handle yourself, you told them. And it was going great—until The AirDrop Incident happened and your car refused to start up for no fucking reason. 
Uber and public transportation are other options, but you don’t have time to wait for those rides to arrive. You need to leave in the next 30 seconds or risk being late. Your new job is on the line here.
And that’s why you find yourself, once again, at Min Yoongi’s doorstep. You hate it here.
He opens the door and blinks his heavy lids at you several times before saying anything. Poor boy. The morning sun is too bright for him, like a cat waking up from its first nap of the day. And yet, he still manages to look so attractive with that messy hair and furrowed brow. You bet the raspiness in his voice is even more seductive in the morning. It is.
“Are we really doing this again?” he asks, pointing his finger back and forth between you and him. At least he’s awake enough to realize shit like this shouldn’t be happening two days in a row. You’re sick of it too.
“I need to be at a shoot in like ten minutes, and my car is fucked up right now, so…” You wish the boy would finish the sentence for you, but he’s just standing there like a smug ass. You’d shove him over, but you’re going to be late and he’s your only option. So you swallow your pride, just this once. “Do you think you can give me a ride?”
He makes some sort of grunt and says, “I’ll be out in a sec,” before shutting the door in your face. You’ll take that over the teasing you were expecting. Must be too early for the banter.
As soon as you get into his car, you realize you were horribly wrong. The false sense of security got you good. Apparently, it’s never too early for banter.
“What would you do without me, hm?” he asks, looking more awake and alive than ever before. Glowing, even. You knew it. He gets a kick out of you needing his help. He’s always been like this. One time when you were seven, your dumb ass climbed up a tree and got stuck up there like a cat. He’d only helped you down after you begged him for ten minutes straight. And although he stood right below you to break your fall in the unlikely event that you slipped, he also had a big fat smile on his face the entire time. He’s the worst.
“I’d manage.”
“I’m sure you would, Y/N.” He doesn’t sound very convinced. Kind of like your parents before they agreed to trust you on your own. “So, what’s this about lingerie and modeling?”
“Got a problem with it?” you challenge him. The very reason you haven’t told anyone else about your job aside from your best friend is that fear of judgment. As far as your parents know, you do modeling for a trendy clothing brand (you do). They just don’t know about your side hustle. You’re sure a guy like Yoongi has no problem with it, though. In fact, last night he sounded awfully eager to support your new job because it just so happens to center around two of his favorite things—tits and ass.
“Not at all,” he hums. “Just curious how it happened.”
“My ex had connections to the company,” you say.
“And you dumped him after he got you a job?” He raises his brow and laughs. What’s he so amused about? “Kind of savage, Y/N.”
“Actually, he broke up with me,” you correct him. How dare he assume you’re the savage one.
“Why would he do that?” he asks, as if it’s not normal for people to break up. Maybe it’s just his protective gene kicking in. He was the same way when he heard about your first breakup years ago.
“He said I wasn’t giving him enough,” you shrug. You’re honestly not too upset about it. It’s not like you had enough time to get attached to him anyway.
“Giving him enough what? Head?”
You glare at the boy even though you really want to laugh. He’s not entirely wrong.
“Sorry.” He does a quick glance at you as he turns the corner. Still smiling, though. “Well, if I had to guess, it had something to do with you playing hard to get.”
“I do not play hard to get,” you say with a firm hmph. 
“You’re certainly not making it easy now,” he frowns. Okay, maybe he has a point. But in your defense, the trait rubbed off on you from Yoongi himself. You spent your entire childhood chasing after him and wound up with nothing. You worked your ass off for any sort of reciprocated feelings from him, only for him to continue to treat you like an annoying child as you both grew older. 
By the time college came around, you were tired of doing all the chasing and thought you’d finally outgrown that neediness for him. You told yourself it was better that way, to keep him as nothing more than a bittersweet childhood memory. And you moved on. For once, you just wanted to be desired and admired by someone as deeply as you’d felt for Yoongi.
And when you think about it, all of your past relationships might have relied too much on the thrill of the chase. You never thought about what came after. You never envisioned a future beyond the chase. That’s why those relationships were so quick to fizzle out. You didn’t give them a reason to stick around. 
You didn’t give them enough.
Yoongi unlocks the doors as he pulls up in front of the building for the shoot. You unbuckle your seatbelt and thank him on the way out like he’s your Uber driver.
But then he goes off script. “When should I pick you up?”
You weren’t expecting a ride home. After your car died on you, you’d immediately changed from your cute ankle boots into sneakers in preparation for the long walk home after work. In fact, you would’ve opted to walk to work too if you had enough time. Like you said before, you can handle yourself just fine. Ever since you found your footing as a model and started living alone, you’ve stopped relying on anyone else.
“No need. I’ll walk home,” you gently decline, kicking your white sneakers up for him to see. 
Still, you can’t pretend like it doesn’t feel nice that the boy offered you another ride. It’s a subtle gesture, but it lets you know he’s watching out for you. There’s at least one person you can count on, even when your best friend and family aren’t around. And that’s already more than you could ever ask for.
“We can grab dinner after,” he suggests, leaning his arms against the steering wheel. You know exactly what he’s doing—playing to your weakness and bribing you with food. Because that’s the one thing you rarely ever say no to. You’ve always been that way.
“Okay, sure. I’ll be done around six.” 
It’s fine. You’ll pay for his meal as thanks for the rides. Then you’re even. 
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The first half of the shoot goes well. The lingerie they’ve picked out for you is super pretty, and the assistant said you get to keep your favorite set after the day wraps up. Right now, you’re feeling pretty fucking good despite the stressful night and morning you had. 
During your lunch break, you find some shameless texts waiting for you.
Yoongi🗿 [10:34AM] “My friend would like you to send pics of your wardrobe😌”
Yoongi🗿 [10:34AM] “For science”
For science. Your smile flattens just a little. You get that he’s just teasing you, but part of you really wonders if he’s only paying this much attention to you because of your job and the picture you’d AirDropped to him. All you are to him is a hot body to look at. That’s the only reason he broke up with his girlfriend, isn’t it? 
If you hadn’t been a dumbass and sent him that photo, he would’ve simply dropped you off at work like the silent Uber driver he was supposed to be. And that would’ve been the end of it. There wouldn’t have been a “let’s get dinner after” or a “send pics of your skimpy lingerie.”
And yet, this is exactly what you’d been yearning for since age five—his attention.
If you really wanted to, you could play along and send him a teaser of the lingerie you decided to take home—a polka-dot mesh set that is very seethrough. You could even drop it in his lap when he picks you up later and tell him it’s a souvenir. That’d get his attention for sure. 
But you’re not going to do that. Obviously. Instead, you send him a boring pic of a rack with empty hangers. Because that’s playing it safe.
Yoongi🗿 [12:58PM] “Going nude today?”
Yoongi🗿 [12:58PM] “Or are those micro thongs getting smaller?🧐”
Yoongi🗿 [12:59PM] “Hello”
You wheeze. He’s lucky you’ve known him since birth. If it were any other guy, you’d ghost him for saying shit like that. Then again, he’s only saying it because he knows he can get away with it with you. 
Y/N🐣 [1:00PM] “i have to get back to work now🫡”
When you finally reach the homestretch of the shoot, you’re tired and more than a little hungry. It’s been a long day, but you want to finish strong before indulging in a nice dinner with you-know-who. You decided you want to take him to your favorite new sushi spot. Not because you know he loves sushi but because it’s what you happen to be craving today.
While sitting down on the fluffiest rug your ass has ever felt, you model a pretty white set with lots of ties like a bikini. Just a few more photos to go, and then you can get your sushi with your Uber driver. But then your starved brain starts to fuck with you.
Just off to the side behind the camera, you see a shadow that looks a lot like Yoongi. You know it’s not actually him, though. It’s just a hallucination spawning from your cravings. Your cravings for sushi, you clarify to yourself.
Then the shadow crosses his arms and smirks as you get on your knees and press an innocent finger to your bottom lip like you’re just asking for your mouth to be filled. As soon as the camera captures a few shots, your eyes dart back to check on the shadow. He gives you a thumbs up.
That’s not a shadow.
Suddenly, your cheeks are hot and your chest is pounding. He’s not supposed to be here. How are you supposed to focus when you know your childhood friend is watching? You have all these eyes on your body as it is, but he’s the only one that really gets you flustered. More flustered than your first day on the job here.
“Can we redo that shot one more time, please?” the photographer asks. “Relax your shoulders a bit, honey.”
You drop your shoulders, but that’s not going to hide the way your heart is practically pounding out of your chest that you know he’s got his eyes glued to.
“Actually, can I take a quick water break?” You shoot up from the rug, take a long sip of water, grab your thin little robe, and drag your unwanted visitor off to the side.
“Hi to you, too,” he says, glancing down at the way your fingers wrap around his wrist.
“What are you doing here?” Your shaky tone screams of unease. When he said he’d pick you up, you weren’t expecting him to actually go in like a parent picking up their kid from school. He was supposed to stay put in his car where you’d meet him after work. That was the plan. Not this.
He studies your face as if he’s debating whether or not you’re being serious right now, as if he expected you to be happy to see him. After building up the anticipation for several seconds more, he has the audacity to say, “Just here to show my support for my lingerie model neighbor.”
Why did you even bother asking? You should’ve known. He just confirmed what you’d hoped wasn’t true. He’s only paying any attention to you because of that dirty image you ingrained in his head with that dumb AirDrop.
And to be honest, you’re kind of over it. Maybe it’s just your empty stomach raging, but he should know that this is crossing the line. He’s your neighbor for crying out loud. He’d seen you lose your two front teeth, gone trick-or-treating with you, witnessed your awkward teen phase, and all that other wholesome childhood shit. Sure, he gave you a hard time every step of the way, but his presence in your life and the memories you made together were all you ever wanted to protect. 
That’s why you chose to stay behind when your parents moved away. You were fine with being away from your own family, and you were even fine when Mo started spending more time with Namjoon. But Yoongi has always been a different case.
You gave up on seeing him in a romantic way after realizing it just wasn’t realistic. If you’d let yourself feel that way any longer, he’d eventually have to reject you, and then that would be the end of it. And you’d much rather keep him in your life than risk it all with a dumb confession of unrequited love. He doesn’t love you, and you’re okay with that.
You just wish he wouldn’t make it so painfully obvious that it’s only your body that he’s after. Because that’s when it might be easier on your heart to cut ties with him.
“I work better when you’re not here.” You let go of his wrist and don’t look up from the red mark your tight grip left on his pale skin. You’re not going to let his charm sway you. He needs to leave. Nothing good can come out of him being here.
So he backs away and leaves.
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As you tie your sneakers and refill your water bottle in preparation for the long walk home, you let out a big sigh. Looks like you won’t be getting your sushi fix tonight. Stupid AirDrop.
You wave bye to the crew and claim your free lingerie before stepping outside. To your surprise, it’s already dark out even though you thought the sun wasn’t supposed to set until seven. If you squint hard enough, you swear you can see Yoongi’s car parked in the lot. 
So you try not to squint.
But as soon as you walk past the car, your feet make a u-turn until you can see the boy leaning back in his seat, eyes closed and arms folded against his chest. You might still be upset, but you can’t deny how good-looking he is. It’s not fair. The only reason you stop staring is to avoid judgment from anyone passing by. And because you kind of need to talk to him.
You knock on the window on the passenger side.
He doesn’t even flinch.
You knock again. Still nothing. Either he’s dead, or he’s just fucking with you. He better not be fucking with you when you’re mad. Read the room, asshole.
Trying your best not to throw your phone at his window, you instead use it to call him. His phone screen blinds you as it flashes on in the darkness and vibrates against his thigh.
This time you catch the slightest twitch of his pretty pink lips. They’re glowing in the light of his phone screen.
You walk around to the driver’s side and get a better look at his glowy handsome face. “I know you’re awake.”
Now he has a full smile to accompany his closed eyelids, cosplaying as a happy corpse.
You roll your eyes at him and start walking in the opposite direction. “All good, I’ll just walk home.”
The doors unlock real quick. The corpse snaps out of his eternal slumber. “Hey, I was kidding,” he calls out the window. “Come back here.”
For the second time in the past three minutes, you make a u-turn toward his car. But this time, you hop in, hesitant to look him in the eye.
“I didn’t think you’d still be waiting here…” You bite your lip. You wish he weren’t still here. Then you wouldn’t be forced to talk about what happened earlier. It’d be much easier to not talk about your feelings.
“You agreed to grab dinner with me afterward, didn’t you?” He’s acting like you didn’t banish him from the building twenty minutes ago. He’s acting like you could’ve told him to never speak to you again and he’d still be waiting here because of some promise you’d both made earlier in the day. He would’ve been waiting here for you no matter what. 
Maybe you shouldn’t have gotten that upset. Time to go in over-two-decades-of-history-preservation mode.
“Yeah but… I kind of overreacted earlier. Then again, I don’t know how else I’m supposed to react when my neighbor sees me half-naked,” you say, shrinking in your seat. “I still meant what I said, though. I work a lot better when you’re not around because you make it hard to focus.”
You immediately regret admitting that last bit.
“It’s understandable that you get so flustered around me. Kind of cute, too,” he hums like he just won the lottery. Mother fucker. “But I should’ve just been honest with you earlier.”
“What do you mean?” You tilt your head like a lost puppy.
“Someone obviously hasn’t checked their phone in a while,” he chuckles, pointing to the pink phone resting atop the mesh lingerie in your bag. You grab your phone and shove the lingerie deeper into your bag until it’s out of his view. Hopefully, he didn’t notice.
Sure enough, you have more unread texts waiting for you beneath the thirsty ones from lunch.
Yoongi🗿 [6:29PM] “Is the shoot running late?”
Yoongi🗿 [6:29PM] “No rush btw. Just want to make sure you didn’t die in the bathroom or something haha”
Yoongi🗿 [7:01PM] “So should I be concerned or”
Yoongi🗿 [7:02PM] “Just to clarify, I don’t believe you’re deceased in the bathroom”
Yoongi🗿 [7:02PM] “But I am gonna go in and check lol”
Then you realize how late it is. It’s over an hour past the time you told Yoongi you’d be done. No wonder it’s fucking dark out.
Your whole mind is spinning, and you have a lot of questions. You turn to him, and the first thing you ask is, “You thought I died in the bathroom?”
“You were running late, not responding, and, well… I had to check,” he shrugs his shoulders. “I didn’t know the lady at the front desk was going to bring me right to the shoot.” So he had good intentions after all. He wasn’t just after your body—far from it, in fact. He was genuinely worried about you. 
Well, shit. Now you look like the asshole for telling him to fuck off after he thought to check up on you like a guardian angel. He should’ve just said so in the first place. But maybe it’s hard for him to admit that sort of thing, too. You can relate.
You still feel bad, though. Doubt had clouded your better judgment because of your own insecurities. You didn’t believe what he was doing for you was unconditional. But the truth is, he cares about you more than you know. He always has.
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Was Yoongi completely and utterly crushed after you’d asked him to leave your photoshoot? Yes. But he wasn’t going to show that to you. After all, as far as you knew, he’d only dropped by to check you out in that pretty lingerie. That’s always been his biggest downfall. He’s never been fully honest with you. It’s understandable that you’d be frustrated with him.
You had every right to be mad at him for interfering with your work. You had every right to walk away right past his car after the shoot. And yet, you still chose to sit down beside him to salvage whatever it is between you and him. It’s always been complicated like this, but it’s worth all the petty bickering you guys do on a daily basis. Seeing you so flustered and cute makes it all worth it.
The last thing he wants is for you to slip through his fingers. Because a world without you would just be weird. And boring. And lonely.
And now you’re rambling on about sushi—his favorite food. You claim you’ve been craving it all day, but it’s not very convincing.
“Hey, the sushi place is the other way,” you frown as he turns left instead of right. “You’re the worst Uber driver ever. I’m leaving you a one-star review.”
“I thought you didn’t like sushi,” he points out, completely ignoring your Karen threat.
“Yeah, when I was like ten. I’m allowed to change what I like, aren’t I?” You make a good point. Maybe your taste buds have changed and you aren’t just catering to his preferences. But it’s in his nature to keep pushing your buttons, to keep getting a reaction out of you. That’s the one thing he knows will never change between you and him.
“You were cuter when you didn’t like sushi.”
“Fuck you.” You turn your head away from him and toward the window to hide your face. He can still see your reflection, though. For such harsh words, your expression is soft. 
It’s funny because that’s what Yoongi has always liked most about you. You’re a tough cookie—you know it, he knows it, everyone knows it—but the best cookies are the ones with soft centers. And he loves to devour and savor that soft side you only seem to show him.
About ten minutes later, he pulls up to a drive-thru you’ll surely recognize. He doesn’t go there often himself, but whenever he does, he’s reminded of those Halloween nights spent scaring the shit out of you before spending his allowance to buy you a kid’s meal with a dumb light-up pumpkin toy. He’s reminded of the time you broke up with your first boyfriend and needed someone to rant to over vanilla milkshakes and fries. He’s reminded of the past two decades the two of you shared together, no matter how silly or short-lived the moments were. He’s cherished all of it.
It might not be the sushi you’d hoped for, but your eyes light up when you see the fast food sign. You lean in closer to him to get a better look at the menu. Today you smell like fruit and—he goes in for another sniff by your neck, purely to identify the intoxicating scent you’re wearing—something floral. 
“Ooh, order me the nugget combo with an iced coffee,” you finally glance at him, mid-sniff, with the eyes of an angel. He knew you’d appreciate the fast food.
“You and your nuggets. What are you? A baby?” he chuckles before being greeted and prompted to order over the speaker. “Can we get a burger combo with iced coffee, one kid’s meal with nuggets and milk—” 
You give his shoulder a small shove. 
He smirks but otherwise continues on as if nothing happened, “—and a nugget combo with iced coffee.”
“So a total of two combos and one kid’s meal?” the employee double-checks.
“Actually—”
“Yeah,” he cuts you off and drives to the pick-up window before you could protest and cancel the kid’s meal order.
“Why do you need a kid’s meal?” you mumble as the employee hands off the big bag of food to Yoongi. You’re so cute when you’re pouty.
“It’s for you, obviously.” He pulls into a spot in the empty lot and takes a sip of his coffee.
“Why do you always treat me like a baby?” That’s the question you ask as you take the kid’s meal box from his hand and start snacking on the few nuggets it comes with.
Because you’re tiny and cute and need to be protected at all costs, he wants to say. Instead he goes with the safer option. “Because you’re my little sister’s friend.”
“But Mo’s rarely ever around anymore. I feel like I’m spending more time with you than her at this point.” That’s true. Her and Namjoon have basically become inseparable. That must suck at least a little for you. 
“I personally wouldn’t let that slide.” As much as Yoongi loves his sister and knows she’d do anything for you if you asked, he also knows you’re not the type to reach out unless you really need to. If Mo understood you the way he understands you, she’d know to check in with you, to send you the occasional random meme in case you’re having a bad day, and to remind you that you aren’t alone. 
But that’s where he comes in. 
“It’s fine, I’m happy for her and Namjoon. Last I heard, she’s waiting for the proposal.” You set down the empty kid’s meal box and move on to your actually dinner. He has to resist the urge to pick the little nugget crumb off the corner of your lips.
“You don’t feel left behind?” he asks. It’s crazy to think his little sister could be getting married soon. Meanwhile, he’s watched you cycle through several boyfriends without much luck. His own love situation isn’t much different, but that’s what happens when no relationship has inspired him to do the things he does for you. Your presence in his life is more than just love and lust. 
Everything you are to him is unconditional.
You shake your head at his question as you glance up at the stars through the windshield. “There’s only one person I’d ever feel left behind by.”
If it’s not Mo or your family, then surely it’s the guy you’ve been chasing after all these years, the guy who teases you because you have a cute pout, the guy who’s been with you every step of the way. The one guy you didn’t want to see your lingerie photos in fear of ruining everything. Surely it’s him you’d be hurt by most if you lost him.
“He’s not going anywhere, Y/N,” he assures you.
You continue to study the stars in silence. There are no shooting stars out tonight, but what you’re looking for isn’t a wish. “Is that a promise?”
He nods. The easiest nod of his life. “That’s how it’s always been, right?”
You nod back. It’s always been you and him. Nothing could ever erase that history you’ve both been trying so hard to protect. There’s no need to play it safe anymore. The history between you and him is stronger than that.
As a way to transition out of the sappy stuff, you reach down and grab the toy from the kid’s meal—a tiny soft cat, probably from a baby cartoon or whatever. You have an awfully big smile on your face for someone who complained about ordering the kid’s meal in the first place. 
Without thinking, Yoongi snatches the cat out of your grasp and dangles it by the tail in front of your eyes. “I’ll be keeping this.”
“I thought you said it was my kid’s meal.” You swing your little paw at him to reclaim your prize, but he’s too quick, holding the cat captive just out of your reach. It’s incredible how easy you are to taunt, especially over something as silly as a toddler toy. Maybe he’s just become a pro at it with over two decades of experience.
After unbuckling your seatbelt, you practically lunge over the center console and lean your weight on the edge of his seat with one hand while the other reaches for the cat, now pressed against the window on Yoongi’s side. He can smell your pretty perfume again, and he’s going to make it last as long as possible.
He brings the cat forward until it’s an inch away from your hand to encourage you to stretch just a tad closer to him. It apparently works, because the hand supporting your body has moved onto his thigh to give you the extra bit of reach. 
If you’re both not careful, you might fall into his lap. He wouldn’t mind it of course, but then you’d feel how hard he’s getting just from having your hand on his thigh like that. Your sweet scent isn’t helping his situation either.
“Say please and it’s all yours.” He lets out an awkward half-cough after inhaling a large dose of your perfume. Very smooth, Yoongi.
You narrow your eyes at him before backing off. His thigh can finally breathe, not that it wanted to. “I don’t need it that bad.”
Aww, you’re acting all tough again. Yoongi slips the cat plush into his pocket with a smirk. “See? Playing hard to get.”
“I swear I’m only like this with you. You drive me mad,” you let out a dramatic sigh.
That’s right. He affects you in a way no one else does. “Good.”
“No, not good.” You wiggle a finger at him as you scan the receipt and pull out your phone. Several seconds later, he gets a notification of you sending him money for all the food.
“You could’ve at least let me pay for the kid’s meal.” Especially after he pocketed the cat.
“I’m just paying you back for all the rides so far.” So far? Interesting choice of words.
“Does that mean you’re going to need another one tomorrow?” He takes another sip of his coffee.
“I don’t know, maybe. I’m getting my car looked at tomorrow morning before work, but…” You have that ashamed look on your face again for having to ask for another ride. You’re not a burden to him. Ever.
“Got it. I’ll be on standby. Just AirDrop me if—”
“Enough with the AirDrop.” You give him another feisty shove and almost knock his coffee out of his hand. Even if the coffee had stained his whole car, he would’ve forgiven you immediately because your smile is so pretty. He’s just happy you’re back to being playful with him. “If I need anything, I’ll let you know. Thank you, Yoongi.”
On the drive home, you tell him more about your job with such a glow. The days might be long sometimes, but the crew has been so sweet, and the photographer “knows how to make you look good.” The photographer could be terrible and you’d still look amazing. There’s no doubt in Yoongi’s mind about that.
You also mention something about special little perks, too.
“Special little perks like what?” he asks, more curious than he’d like to be.
“Guess.” Why are you tempting him like this?
“Does it have something to do with the lingerie in your bag?”
You blink at him like a deer in headlights. Uh oh. “You were supposed to pretend like you didn’t see that.”
“See what?” he plays along. Good save, Yoongi.
You give him a thumbs-up and smile the rest of the way home.
After parking in the space in front of his house, Yoongi takes a five-second look at your car right behind his. It looks perfectly fine. Whatever the issue is, it’s not visible from the outside, but hopefully it stays broken for a while.
“Is it actually broken or did you just say that to score a ride from the handsome guy next door?” he teases.
“The latter, obviously,” you deadpan before switching over to the most precious giggle ever. You’re so fucking cute. “Thanks for the ride, Handsome Guy Next Door.”
“No problem.” He watches, amused, as you dig through the lingerie in your bag to find your keys. He’d turn on the flashlight on his phone to help you see better, but he’s supposed to be ignoring that mesh polka-dotted lingerie. That’s what a good and respectful neighbor would do. 
Fuck it. He immediately breaks down and shines a light on the sheer bralette and g-string (and your keys). It’d look so pretty on you.
You grab your keys and shoo away his shameless horny eyes. That’s his cue to leave things as they are, just as he had the night before. If you wanted something more, you’d let him know. He’s already assured you everything will be fine between you and him no matter what.
Just as he unlocks his door, you stop him in his tracks.
“Yoongi, wait.”
He turns around, a little too eager some might say. You haven’t even said anything else, but he’s already ready to say yes to whatever it is.
You dig around in your bag again. He catches a glimpse of the mesh fabric between your fingers. He’ll take a souvenir any day.
But then you toss it back in your bag and hum an innocent, “Never mind, it’s nothing.”
You’re such a tease. Oh how the tables have turned.
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As soon as you close the door behind you, you kick off your white sneakers, and take the teeny tiny lingerie with you to your room.
You saw how quick he was to turn around when you called out to him. You saw how he practically drooled at the lingerie in your bag. He wasn’t ready for the night to end either.
Piece by piece, you toss your clothes aside and replace them with the mesh polka-dotted triangles. Your little nipples are so visible through the thin pieces of cloth. Good.
Then you take a quick bed selfie, just like Yoongi had one night ago. And you lay it all out there. You’re done hiding and suppressing your feelings for him. Because no matter what happens between the two of you, even if the night doesn’t go the way you hope, you’re not going to lose him. That’s what was promised in his car.
So, one last time, you AirDrop him a photo of yourself in lingerie. He accepts it immediately.
Then you text him.
Y/N🐣 [8:18PM] “you asked for a pic of my wardrobe earlier didnt you?”
Y/N🐣 [8:18PM] “btw knock on my door rn or youre a coward😡”
You’re really doing it. There’s no going back now.
You throw a hoodie over your shoulders and leave it unzipped as you pace back and forth in the hall. You always wondered why you get so antsy when it’s just Min Yoongi. It’s literally just the guy you’ve lived next to your entire life. But that’s the hold he has on you. The mere thought of being with him never fails to excite you. Those are the kind of butterflies you get with him.
Your heart nearly jumps out of your chest when you hear his knock. You swing the door open before you can chicken out.
Of course his eyes immediately fall on your chest. He almost forgets to speak.
“What pic were you talking about? Did you send something?” he asks, still very much concentrated on your nipples.
Wait.
“You didn’t get the AirDrop?” Not this again. The granny across the street probably did get it this time. You want to wrap yourself up in your fluffy warm blanket and permanently disable that stupid phone feature once and for all. No, it’s not a stupid feature. You’re just stupid for using it.
“You’re so fun to fuck with, Y/N,” he laughs right in your face. “Yes, I got your cute little photo.”
“Stop teasing me,” you pout. Here you are, trying to look all hot for him, and he’s still finding ways to fuck with you. He’s so mean.
“I could ask the same of you.” Yoongi slips his index finger into your bralette between your breasts. He tugs on the stretchy band until it snaps back against your skin. “Or maybe you don’t realize what you do to me when I see you like this.”
“I don’t,” you play innocent as you pull him inside and shut the door behind him. You’d love to be enlightened about what your body does to him just by existing. A demonstration would be much appreciated. The more detail, the better.
He pushes you back against the wall in the narrow hallway and pins you there. You try to distract yourself by staring at the tiny speck of coffee on his white sweater but a strong hand cups your chin and lifts it so you can’t run from his gaze. His eyes are dark.“It's so fucked up how many times I’ve gotten off at the thought of my little sister’s friend in nothing but lingerie.”
Funny, you’ve always thought it was fucked up of you to lust over him given how close you’d been throughout your childhood. You cringe at the thought of Mo learning about all the unholy fantasies you’ve had of her brother—him fucking you against the wet walls of his shower, him shoving his cock down your throat until you cry, and even him tying you up on the bed and doing whatever he wants with your body. Your delusional self has thought about it all with him.
But now you know he’s felt the same way all along.
You slide your hands up his chest to his neck as your eyes hone in on his glossy lips. For as long as you could remember, you’ve always wondered what Min Yoongi tastes like. In your dreams, he tasted of creamy vanilla milkshakes. But now, in this moment…?
You lean in and press your breasts into his chest, but he pulls back just before you can get a taste of those lips.
“I always knew you had a thing for me,” he smirks. The teasing never stops. But that’s what you’ve signed your life away for. “If you want to kiss me so bad, say it.”
The stubborn you who “plays hard to get” would never admit that. The you right now, on the other hand, is yearning, desperate, and painfully horny. In this state, you’d get down on your hands and knees so quick.
“I want to kiss you, you ass—” Your mumble is cut off by his lips. They taste like the iced coffee from earlier with a hint of salt. You want more of it.
Your tongue gets tangled with his. It’s sloppy, but you’ve had enough of keeping it clean with him. You’ve played it safe for far too long.
His hands grab your breasts as he lets out a low moan inside your throat. Funny how perfectly your chest fits in his large hands. When he gives them a squeeze, you lean into him more. Anything to get more of his touch.
But then he slides a hand down your belly and works a few fingers around the fabric between your legs. They glide between your folds so smoothly.
“Did you get this wet just from a little kiss and touch? Poor thing.” He holds up the proof of your lust before licking it off his fingers with that tongue. “I thought you’d put up more of a fight.”
The next thing you know, your hoodie is gone and he’s carrying you off to your room. As soon as your back hits the mattress, he climbs on top of you, bombarding you with more kisses until you’re out of breath.
Your hands fidget with the hem of his sweater until he gets the memo that you want it off. Seeing him shirtless is nothing new—you’ve seen him casually walk out of the shower in nothing more towel on multiple occasions while hanging out with Mo next door, hence all your the shower fantasies. But in this context, with him on top of you on your bed, the butterflies just keep coming.
As the two of you continue to makeout, you unzip him. It’s your turn to slip your hand into his pants. He’s huge, just like your fantasies. You’re not sure your inexperienced throat can handle it.
“You haven’t even seen it yet, and you’re drooling,” he purrs when he leans back to get a good look at your current status—starved for his cock. “Does my cute little neighbor love having her mouth filled with cock?”
“I haven’t…” Your words trail off when you see his erection in full. Your hands latch back on to it like gravity. There’s no way this’ll fit down your throat without making you gag. You lick your lips.
“Wait, this isn’t the first time you’re—”
“I’ve had sex,” you clarify. “Just haven’t given a blowjob…” 
It still feels weird to admit these kinds of things to your neighbor. You’ve always been more careful and closed off about your sex life than him. Meanwhile, you swear you’ve heard the whimpers and moans of all the girls he’s pleasured on the other side of your wall. You’ve never heard the sounds he makes during sex, though.
“How innocent. Depriving yourself of tasting it for this long.” Now he’s got a big ol’ smile on his face as you lie on your stomach and kiss along his length. “You won’t be so innocent by the time I’m done with you.”
You don’t want to be innocent with him anymore.
When you finally take him into your mouth, it’s easy. You swirl your tongue around as you bob your head up and down him. The taste isn’t nearly as bad as you’d thought. In fact, you kind of like it. Or maybe you’re just too horny to care. 
But then you decide you want to gag. So you push your mouth further down his length. The slightest tickle against the back of your throat practically has your whole body jerk in protest. You pull back and let yourself breathe before wrapping your lips back around him.
“Hey, easy,” he chuckles, holding your hair back. “Deepthroating is too advanced for you. You’re still a baby.”
You’ll let the baby comment slide only because you’re too focused on sucking his cock. You wouldn’t mind doing this all night. It could easily become your new addiction.
“Mm,” you moan as flick your eyes up at him. His mouth is open, panting, still trying to fight off the feral instincts you so easily gave in to. Whatever you’re doing, it’s working. Not bad for a first-time blowjob.
“So good,” he praises as he watches your mouth working so hard along his length. You’ve finally earned some praise from him. After all these fucking years. “Fuck, you’re so good.”
The next time you come up for air, he wipes his thumb along your lip to clean you up before flipping you over onto your back. You’d love to suck the glaze off his thumb, but the selfish bastard does it for you right in front of your face.
“I know you’ve grown quite attached to sucking my cock, but I’d like to know how your other hole feels, if that’s alright with you.”
You nod, knowing just how soaked your g-string got while sucking him off. After wiggling out of it and tossing it aside, you spread your legs out for him like a well-trained slut.
He uses his fingers again to make sure you’re coated enough. You feel two curl inside you. Then a third. His thumb brushes gently over your clit exactly one time.
“Fuck,” you whimper from the jolt of pleasure. He needs to do it again.
But he doesn’t.
So you run your own two fingers around your clit as his slip in and out of you. He watches the rhythm of your fingers going around and around like a hypnotic spiral. That smirk is creeping back up again.
“So that’s how my neighbor touches herrself,” he nods like the enthusiastic spectator he is. “That’s how you touch yourself for me.”
You continue to tease your little bud as he grabs a condom from the ass pocket of his jeans and slides it down his length. Finally. Fucking finally.
Your horny little body pounces on top of him, your thighs straddling him beneath you. His cock presses against your ass as you strip off your bralette and lean over to kiss him some more. You’d leave him a nice hickey, but you hate the thought of Mo bringing it up as “a byproduct of another one of his meaningless flings.”
Instead of thinking about that, you grab his cock from behind and ease yourself onto him. You’re sure his ego just got a boost from the amount of time it took you to adjust to his size.
“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna be That Guy who comments on your tight little pussy.” Asshole.
Then you start sliding yourself up and down his cock. You gasp immediately. It feels so fucking good to finally have him inside you.
The boy doesn’t waste any time, either. His hands work their way up your waist back to your breasts. He gives your nipples a few pinches and is delighted to learn just how sensitive you are over there. You toss your head back with each little pinch.
As the pleasure builds, you feel him thrusting back beneath you. Your ass is practically bouncing off his thighs with each thrust. If you don’t hold onto his shoulders, you might fall off of him, which would be quite the tragedy because you happen to like the feeling of his cock pounding inside of you. 
“More…” you huff against his neck. “Harder…”
At your request, he gets back on top and takes the lead, ramming himself in and out of you. You knew Yoongi was a strong guy, but you’ve never been fucked this hard before. Perhaps this is what years of all that sexual tension have amounted to.
You let out another loud moan, this time crying out his name. You should be afraid of Mo coming back from Namjoon’s and hearing the way you cry her brother’s name with such lust. You shouldn’t show what a dirty little slut you’ve become for him. But you’re mind isn’t functioning anymore. Not with him fucking you silly like that.
“I’m gonna—” you yelp.
He speeds up and pounds harder into you until you’re overcome by your orgasm. The wave of pleasure washes over you as you feel your walls tightening around him.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he groans, feeling just how tight you can go. He should be grateful for your tight little pussy. Especially if his high was as good as yours.
As you catch your breath, your thoughts start to come back to you. You’re certainly not looking forward to the conversation you’re gonna have to have with Mo later. But you know it was worth it. And you know you don’t regret anything that happened tonight. It was long overdue, anyway.
Yoongi, on the otherhand, might still have his head in the clouds because he’s just lying down on your pillow with the goofiest smile. He’s been smiling a lot more lately.
“Do you remember that time you invited me to your little tea party in here?” he asks out of nowhere.
“No,” you lie. 
Of course you remember it. You were probably five or six and you’d just watched some teen show where the main girl asked her love interest out on a lunch date. Your naive self was inspired to do the same, but with your love interest—your Yoongi. And initially he said no because he’s mean like that. That was your first heartbreak.
But then he turned around later and crashed the tea party you’d set up for your sobbing self and your teddy bear. He claimed he’d only stick around for the shortbread cookies, but you’re starting to think there was more to it.
“Well I do,” he admits. “That was the first time I thought you were kinda cute.”
“Kinda?”
“Yeah, kinda cute. Because you were also an annoying little brat, you know that?” This is just slander.
“Well I appreciate you putting up with this kinda cute annoying brat for all these years,” you mutter. “No one was forcing you to.”
“I know, that’s my point.” He pinches your cheek. “Even if I tried to run, you always somehow found a way to cling onto me. Like a leech.”
“Okay, buddy, I’ve had enough of this slander,” you hiss in his arms under the blankets. “If you’re going to say something nice, just say it already. No more of your dumb leech metaphors.”
“You’ve always had a hold on me, Y/N.” He presses a soft kiss to your forehead—the first of many, you hope. “And I feel like a lot happened in the past day, but that’s only one small part of what this is.”
“This” as in you and him.
“Like one page in a history book,” you chime in. “Or like a chapter in a memoir, or the chorus of a song, or—”
He chuckles at your rambling because it’s apparently “so fucking cute” to him. What else would you expect? If one page in the history book is dedicated to the past 24 hours, 10,000 pages are filled with him teasing you, you chasing him, and everything in between. 
Today simply marks the start of a new era.
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hotelheartz · 1 year
Text
love suite event: room 808 [LILINKA KUZMINA-YAMADA]
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>> use the key on room 808!
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Every time you come here, you must play the role of their "ideal." Like some sort of shared fantasy.
Lilinka seems like a nice girl, in a sort of intimidatingly perfect way. What kind of fantasies could she be hiding?
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Huh… what was that music? Was she listening to something?
As you entered the room, a bold melody played from somewhere in the room, full of lively strings playing at a fortissimo that you could hear clearly, even with the speakers at a low volume. The music slowed as it ended, transitioning into a light, twinkling melody.
Finally, you spotted Lilinka; she hummed along softly, sweet voice carrying through the room as she moved along the floor in lazy, but elegant chaînés. She came to a halt after she locked eyes with you, fumbling back on her heels.
Hold on… wasn’t she an idol?
“[♡]!” She exclaimed in surprise. “You didn’t tell me you were already here!” She slipped on her low heels, tying neat bows around her ankles with a shocking speed, rushing over to you as she let her pink rag curls down over her shoulders.
“Sorry, I should’ve knocked…” you apologized, trying to figure out your role in the scene.
It was the first time you’d seen her startled like this; genuinely startled, instead of the cutesy fake reactions that were always delayed by a split second.
She wouldn’t let her guard down around even her friends in the class, so who would she be so comfortable with that she completely lets her walls down? Maybe a manager? Or a lover?
“No, no, it’s alright… that’s just one of the things I love about you, hehe.” She clasped your hands in hers. “You’re the only person who can surprise me like that, you know. You should be honoured~!”
She kissed your cheek briefly, before bringing you over to the bed, sitting you down. You didn't object to her newfound pushiness, and sat as she guided you to.
"So, since I've quit being an idol," she began, twirling around happily on her toes. "I've had so many antis! People are always swarming me, and bothering me, like leave me alone, jeez! Stupid little brats calling themselves my fans, when they really just want a person to creepily focus on, right?"
She... wants to quit being an idol?! And she said she loved all her fans... that was a lie?!
But she said she wanted to give everyone hope... she said that she wants to live and grow with all her fans... her entire career was based on a lie. You knew that lots of idols were the same, but from the Ultimate Idol?
You found yourself pondering, instead of listening to her ranting and rambling. It wasn't intentional, really, it was just a shock.
"Are you okay? You're acting weird." She asked, stepping closer. "It's not like it's the first time I'm saying this, either. Are you sick, or what?"
"U–um, yeah! Yeah, I'm fine! I was just, uh, I didn't get much sleep, ha..." you tried your best to convince her, throwing in a yawn to make it more believable, while you watched her move throughout the room.
Her body moved with grace, noticeably less bouncy than usual. She seemed more relaxed; more comfortable with herself. Maybe her quitting wouldn't be a bad thing...?
"Hm, really? Were you that excited to see me?" She smiled warmly at you, with a slight teasing air. "Then..."
Undoing the ribbons on her shoes, she set them aside once more, ridding herself of the simple wrap skirt that was once tied around her thin waist.
"W—wait, Lilinka—"
"Shush, you're sleepy 'cause of me, right? I have to take responsibility~!" She draped her sweater over the chair, taking a seat on the bed, against the plush pillows behind you. "C'mere."
You looked at her from your place at the foot of the bed. She had the pink fleece blanket laid over her bare legs, and she patted her chest, as if to offer it as a pillow.
"I shouldn't... I came here to—" you paused; what were you here for? "—spend time with you! I would feel pretty bad to sleep through it..." Nice save.
"Bullshit, you always nap with me! Come on, you came all the way here to see me, you deserve it~" she purred, pulling a heart-shaped cushion into her lap. "What's gotten into you, hm? Are you feeling shy all of a sudden?"
Crap. You were totally blowing it, weren't you?
Slowly, you slunk up next to her, letting her pull the blanket over you. Her body was warm, but her hands were cold, as they guided yours to her waist. She wrapped her lean arms around you, your head naturally resting on her soft chest.
"There you go, cute as ever, hehe." She spoke, vibrations of her voice thrumming down her collar. "Nighty night, [♡]..."
You tried your best to fight sleep, but she had some kind of drowsy effect on you. You could swear she was magical, with the way she affected you...
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stuckinapril · 1 year
Note
girl help i'm suffering. i've been talking to this guy online (met through a now ex bf) for about two full months and we fell really hard for each other. the main issues were that 1. i'm still recovering from my prev relationship and 2. it would be an ldr (from michigan to pennsylvania), which we both currently have no idea how to navigate nor did we have a plan so we agreed not to date. yesterday we also agreed to take some time away from each other bc of my first thing, and i know i'll work my stuff out in about a month or two given some time and self care. the issue is: what then? i don't want to move on from him. i really really love him and i know men are a dime a dozen and they'll always come and go but i love him so much and he loves me too. he doesn't even know what i look like and he said he didn't need to because he he fell in love with me just from about everything you could get from texts and the four hour long calls we would have. all of today i've just been looking at potential summer internships in pittsburgh and maybe even going to grad school at cmu (cs/ds is my major, cmu is a top school for it but the tuition is $$$)
i love him so much. and honestly i think it's ok to chase a man if i'm chasing up and not down yknow?? maybe it's silly and this will all burn and fizzle out but i think i would really regret never trying. he's thoughtful and maybe he's bad at texting but he always took up my offers to call whenever i knew he was available and i just feel like i could spend forever with him. i've always wanted to live in a big city away from my hometown, but now i want it to be with him.
what do i do? :( i just feel like i want to hold onto these feelings just a little longer. the pain reminds me that it was all real and not just in my head. i'm done sacrificing everything for school and success, i gave up my hobbies and all of my energy and time and happiness just to succeed, and i feel so lifeless. i want to be young and spontaneous and i know i can move on and maybe it's what i technically should do, but i just want to be silly and stupid and make safe dumb decisions and be with him even if it's just for a summer. of course i won't compromise my entire future, but i just really want to see him.
it could very well be that you're truly in love. it could also very well be that you're infatuated & looking for comfort after a breakup. this is a phase i went through fresh off my ex as well, so i understand. it's very mature of you to sort your shit out before jumping into something. rebounding would be unfair to all parties involved. the rest of my answer is w the assumption that you'll have gotten over your breakup in a couple months & you're still into him, but it's totally cool if you sort of got some clarity & realized maybe this isn't what you want.
as a fellow stem major who dedicates lots of time to school, i can definitely understand where you're coming from. i really don't recommend you tank your career either haha, but your choice seems very strategic & reasonable. an internship where he lives is the perfect opportunity to expose yourself to what it would be like to be in physical proximity w him, while benefiting from the stay simultaneously.
my one thing is--def have a trial period. your internship could be your trial period. maybe you guys have great chemistry apart, but in person he's not what you expected him to be. the fact that he doesn't know how you look like does play a factor as well, even tho i don't doubt that he's crazy about you. try it out, basically, but consider the internship a test run--a chance to get a feel for him in person & see if it's something worth pursuing.
i'm waaary of long distance, just bc it's so fucking hard to make work. at the same time, i'm also a firm believer that your soulmate isn't only found in your city--they can be anywhere in this world. and if you wanna try to make it work w someone who lives far, then that's beautiful and should be honored. i just wouldn't jump the gun and revamp my entire life for someone i didn't meet in person yet if i were you. while i'm sure you spent a lot of time w him, online personas can have a way of being very filtered. who knows. maybe he's extremely authentic. that's what you're trying to find out. also watch some long-distance videos for advice. just research the fuck out of that dynamic. i think that would go a long way.
never stop asking yourself if he'd do the same for you. it's okay to be the one to make some sacrifices at first, but he should return that energy somehow. has he expressed that he'd be willing to at all?
and pls pls pls, be safe. women always go the extra mile of telling guys they're literally all they have. that is so unsafe. let other people know about your plan, if you go through w it (for safety reasons). make the smartest choices you possibly can. ik you're crazy in love right now, but do not. dooo not. put all your eggs in one basket. try it out, but do not put this guy on this impossible pedestal. do not assume he's perfect when you haven't even met him in person yet. do not put yourself in financial debt for feelings you think have a possibility of fizzling out. i think both of y'all need to slow down. not to completely ditch the prospect, but to slow down.
safe dumb decisions, just like you said. not permanent ones for a potentially temporary feeling.
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hospitalterrorizer · 4 months
Text
diary137
1/29-30/2024
monday-tuesday
moving is so depressing.
maybe just because of the exhausting nature of it, plus i didn't eat at all today really. i'm so exhausted, so i'm not really doing much music stuff rn, maybe i will after posting this, but idk, the song is okay-ish. it's just a lot of tiny dumb adjustments i feel like i need to keep making. trying to figure out, for instance, why it doesn't feel right, or perfect, or something.
the place is at least looking more like a house now. or a home. not a house, since it's an apartment.
i am addicted to trying to make this right, listening to a band now is giving me ideas, 1 is i try and pan harder, like basically all the way left and right but i leave some in the middle, and then maybe i do a send where it takes panned stuff and sends it to the center again on a delay by a few ms. that should be very quiet. then on the right guitar i bump up the body by a tiny bit. another thing is i need to get the distortion tighter. that might mean shaving off some frequencies pre distortion on both ends.
this is going well, at least.
the job called today, they told me i'm going in on thursday for orientation, which is good because that's after our last day to move. we are making good enough progress on moving at least, we have all the big furniture out of the place, as well as a lot of/ all the organizing stuff. now we just need to collect a lot of the tableware, cooking stuff, things of that nature, as well as a lot of clothes, but clothes shouldn't be too hard i think. idk, hope not.
i am excited to stop moving and have everything setup so i can start working out again, that's probably part of my malaise, i am not doing the things i want to do with my body. somehow lifting all of this stuff and doing all this physical labor/having to work this way makes me very dysphoric. it feels, even though it is not the case, that i am being treated a certain way, i know this is all normal it just reminds me of all the really stupid and pointless labor my stepdad used to make me do.
now i am just thinking about how best to clean these floors, they are sticky, so that means cleaning residue, and there's dust, so i need to hit all of it w/ soap and water first, which i have hit a good chunk with, and then maybe i'll do vinegar and maybe idk, like i was thinking of doing some vinegar + baking soda cleaning. but it could be too much. these floors are just so dumb, they are too textured, and strangely too, not like real wood, like linoleum. ugly stuff.
i think this is definitely the best this song has sounded, the panning is getting a little less hard but that's good, puts things in greater focus, directionally, i guess.
yayyyyy. the song is good now, mostly, bass in the middle section is off a bit and maybe i just automate that louder, i am waiting on that though, now i just kinda wanna mess with a sound i have in my head.
and i made a sound i like, and it's like, made a song happen. that's fun. that will be for another thing maybe but who knowssss. it might make it on. it could replace another short song i have even.
anyway it's late. this week i have work isn't that crazy.
and funny, i can hear a guy's car speaker thumping now. i hear a lot of stuff around here, i'm thinking maybe i can get away with vocals here idk. 1 hour a day, noonish, whenever i am free at that time. i should avoid screeching but that seems like the way to do it if necessary, regular vox should be okay ofc.
while i'm up, i'm trying to re establish regular habits, even in the middle of everything being hectic and stressful, i'm looking at fashion scans again, these are from vogue girl korea and they're streetsnaps from london it seems, around 07, they're so funny to me.
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look at his crazy pins... wtf. bejeweled guy. like it trips me up how 2d they look.
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the hat, the vest, the clip on bowtie, the motto: concentrate on career. he is probably a good drummer, i figure.
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the ecce homo shirt and untied shoes go crazy. i also love the rainbow necklace + the pins.
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and i just love this dress.
i also love the graphic design bit of the text bubble, making you imagine all of these people are walking up to you and saying this to you. seems like a fun thing you could play with, just putting total nonsense in a textbubble like that. maybe i should trace those bubbles, lol.
n e wayssss. my head is killing me, so i need to sleep, so
byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!
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theclowncowboy · 8 months
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lol go ahead and clock me why don't you? but yes lol, your suspicions are correct, I am indeed not straight (bi in fact!)
I'm sorry your day has been long and tiring too :( homophobic, indeed. we should take this up with the council
I agree about layering! I'm all snuggled up in a blanket right now :)))
those are lovely flowers! I took a walk and picked some queen anne's lace today, which reminded me to ask. kinda basic but I'm a rose girl, peach colored roses are my favorite!
you may have answered this before, but what are some of your favorite movies from when you were a kid? like the ones that started to shape your taste to what it is today
i had a feeling! i think straight ppl on tumblr are lost or confused - in my humble opinion :p
nothin wrong w liking roses..theyre popular for a reason! i used to have a rose bush but i got rid of it when i got my cat cuz the thorns and she is stupid.
gooddd favorite movies as a kid? below the cut im probably gonna get real into this
beyond the ones i listed a few days ago in the tags of a random post (care bears return to camelot / alvin and the chimpunks / zoom / star wars revenge of the sith):
i grew up loving all of the winnie the poohs, specifically tiggers movie, and the heffalump movie as well (one for christmas one for halloween yk??) i dont know how much it has shaped my taste or my goals in film as a career but it does hold a really close place to my heart, and its always something i can throw on when i wanna yearn for my childhood years again lmao
meet the robinsons is another honorable mention, not sure how much it has shaped me but the comedy in that movie was great to me, and probably the first soundtrack i actively hunted down after watching it. little wonders by rob thomas u will always be famous to me!
igor and robots were movies that really nailed the importance of subtle comedy to me! like easy low hanging jokes they often were, they landed every time. so thats something i think is important to showcase, the ability to not drag the bit out but hit it and move on swiftly and with grace to the next joke
LOVED the movies over the hedge, dougal, the shaggy dog and hoodwinked. all horrendous movies but they made me happy so. i think thats also something we have to be able to accept as both creators and active enjoyers of art is that its not always gonna be great and thats ok, its ok to find solace in the shit that it is!
ill finish this rambling off with my ever growing love for Ratatouille. not only has this put so much love in my heart for voice acting and story telling but cooking as well. thats something my dad and i have always bonded over, and its the movie we start every fall season with. very excited for it to come this season. i think to ME that movie has so much love put into it, and it has transferred to me as a result.
sorry for the rambling, u ask a film major film questions ur opening that can of worms! ☮️🕊️✌️ & 🩵🫶 💟
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septembersghost · 10 months
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I know you've become a celebrity news blog kind of against your will lol so you don't have to answer this, but I was thinking about the main pop girl stories this year & how it's escalated and it putting TS' situation into perspective helpfully. Because it's like: woman loses the man she thought she'd marry, acts petty, has a lil menty b, dates hideous rebound for four weeks, dips. MH's disgusting comments and behaviour aren't her fault, and they're fling is over now, she's distances herself. Her history of being a lovely human being is so long that a bad choice with a nasty man is forgivable. Then AG's affair. It's gross and distasteful, horrible for his wife and child, she and the sponge should be mocked until the end of time, but you mentioned how it's not that unusual. It's shitty but people do this, and Hollywood has a ton of these stories. It didn't ruin Angelina, and everyone involved in that was WAY more famous. Why is it our business who everybody's sleeping with if we're here for the art? Maybe it's because I don't care that much about AG, but she has the bad relationship track record that people think TS has. This isn't that off brand for her and doesn't really change my opinion. Wicked will be good or bad separate from them. But then there's Lizzo. Building a brand on acceptance and lifting ppl up only to be exposed as emotionally manipulative, abusive, literal sexual harassment (or is it assault?), mistreating people who work for you. That's low and despicable. That I can't forgive because that speaks to the heart of the art itself as hollow. All three of them earned their careers but I don't fuck w someone who shames and traumatises others. You know? Personal mistakes with fuckboys and causing harm to your workers are hugely different topics but sometimes online stans don't seem to get that.
Thanks for listening, I think you get alot of these messages because you don't answer them as only snarky gossip, so it's good to vent to someone who'll understand ❤
remember when my asks were mostly fictional character meta, but then i was unhappy with how the stories unfolded and for various reasons had to distance myself from the respective fandoms, and now we're here. 😳 i opened the door to discussion though, it's okay! if/when i'm not comfortable with something, i don't feel pressured about it anymore, i answer what i can.
so there's a lot to unpack here, and i'm not even sure where to begin with the layers of it, but want to preface this by saying anything i reply is not directed at *you*, but rather a general sort of observation.
these stories are all very different and require different responses, so it's a little tricky that they're being compared at all, even though i get it because they all involve very famous women in music. i think one of the first issues to reflect on here is, in fact, the way we approach and discuss things involving successful women and the almost ravenous hunger to take them down a peg the moment they show a flaw or make a bad choice. while i don't condone the things that man has said and done, it's curious to me how quickly it turned into a conversation of taylor being tainted by him forever, an odd melding of shaming and blaming that went beyond the careful concern regarding awareness and accountability. it was upsetting for many fans, myself included, but thankfully brief, and the intentional distancing made moving on the healthier choice. with ariana, infidelity is terrible and the story has several "juicy" angles that are easy to glom onto and laugh about, and the situation is ongoing, but ultimately is it our business? it's not a positive reflection on her character, but is it something that changes her overall abilities? obviously i am far more familiar with taylor's person and history than i am with ariana (or lizzo, but we'll get there), so i know how taylor is always reported to have treated people, to have shown her character, and her consistent graciousness has the most weight to me. i don't know exactly what ari's overall reputation is in that sense. but the concept of...forgivableness...regarding private mistakes or bad choices is difficult to parse. i've talked about the necessity for willingness to extend grace and allow for growth a lot, but of course everyone decides individually where/when/how they can offer that, especially to artists they admire but don't know. i feel like romantic missteps are less our purview than open bigotry or criminal actions, if that makes sense. one scandal doesn't equal another. do fans have the right to expect an apology? with ari, is that even fair to ask when the only person/people who really deserves that is his wife (and his child) and possibly her husband? where is that line between the personal and the public?
you mentioned angelina, and i've seen others bring up the debbie reynolds/eddie fisher/elizabeth taylor affair, but there are a lot of differences there considering in both of those cases, all the people involved were very famous. lilly is not a public figure, and ethan was not particularly known before this (even as a broadway fan, i'd somehow never heard of him). and yet, despite debbie being america's sweetheart, and elizabeth's reputation with lovers, neither of them were colored by that forever (though carrie worked it hilariously into her writing and show), debbie even forgave liz later in life and they made up, which was her choice. i never associate liz with her scandalous accounts because she was so much greater than that alone, but i've mentioned before that unfortunately i couldn't be a fan of anyone from old hollywood if messy romantic entanglements were deal breakers, so, again, that's in however one individually chooses to approach it.
then there's lizzo. i liked her, but only casually knew a little about her. the allegations are horrendous, and i'm not going to sugarcoat that, but at the same time, the idea of it being unforgivable and permanently destroying gives me pause only because of the tone of the conversation. granted, they've never done anything abusive like this, but taylor and ariana are both thin white women from privileged backgrounds (upper middle class and very upper class respectively). there's a little too much glee from some in canceling a plus size black woman who represented a lot of positivity for many in her audience, and for people who are underrepresented, in reveling in the fact that she's been "revealed" as nasty. the concept of what's "unforgivable" concerns me slightly. it's disappointing (and disturbing) behavior, no doubt. yet so many far worse people, especially men, have gotten total passes for heinous actions. it doesn't mean she should be given free reign to mistreat people with impunity, she absolutely should not. i fully support her dancers in speaking out, and anyone who's been mistreated working for her, it's awful, and they deserve better and were right to file the suit. i hope they get reparation and support through this. but do we destroy and write off lizzo forever, or do we hope there's some room for her to learn and change? when men guilty of criminal abuse are still thriving? is there a way for her to even make amends? what does it mean if there isn't? and i truly don't know the answers.
this is all rhetorical, but i do...stop and wonder if sometimes online commentary is fervent for comeuppance aimed at successful women, and even if the discussion is deserved and begins reasonably, it gets taken really far - it starts casting them as permanently stained, sinful [insert slur here], divas, armchair diagnosing them with personality disorders (i have seen malignant narcissism and BPD invoked way too often, and not only is that crossing a line, it also increases stigma against people really dealing with those diagnoses), shaming their bodies, their sexuality, their writing, their fundamental existences beyond what the core of the story is, and i feel like some caution is warranted in that regard.
all that said, i totally get where you're coming from on seeing the levels of seriousness here. and there are markedly disparate personalities, circumstances, behaviors, and reactions involved in each of these stories, and different levels of upset and emotion too. maybe amends can be made and maybe they can't, and sometimes we can healthily move on, and sometimes something is too serious and requires further consequence. harmful bigotry/isms and abuse deserve whatever vitriol they get, like criminal actions require adjudication, but do poor choices about bedfellows? we certainly can't solve any of it, our only power is in response, and the one thing i try my best to do is remember that we're talking about real human beings, and however that can be handled appropriately and within reason for each individual.
sorry this is so long and rambly, but i appreciate you all being willing to discuss with and trust me. <3
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loveandpain312 · 1 year
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6/1/23
I went to Andreas daughters Quinceañera last Sunday, and it was so fun. I literally love the culture so much... I went with Sam and he wanted to leave early, but I somehow convinced him to stay for a long time lol. I felt kind of scared bc Paulo/Erick was there with his GF (on Cinco Erick was like blatantly flirting w me and buying me drinks all night and not showing her any attention) and i thought she probably hated me so i was avoiding them which was probably done, but I was a little tipsy and Sam wanted to leave (�� i really didnt wanna leave cuz i wanted to be able to dance but also had nobody to dance with)so we were walking out and they were all standing outside so I talked to them, she was super nice and clearly didn't hate me which made me feel better. Since the vibes were good I told sam I might stay and have my mom pick me up, and that convinced HIM to stay too lol. So we went in and I started dancing with Jorge and his girl lol and Quique & Erick and its sooo fun when they just whip you around, but I knew what I was doing enough bc I learned n Costa rica It was literally just soooo fun and pure and good vibes. I took a few more shots with random people and the best part was sam wouldnt dance with me (He did only a tiny bit) but Emily totally had a crush on him so she was flirting with him and made him dance w her lol. It was super fun. I loved it.
Ryan comes home in 9 days!!!! Im so excited to see him and go to the wedding. 
Rn im at a coffee shop cuz Im working on some stuff and im for real so unsettled about my job situation for while im in england. Im super happy to move there and have a year of fun and travel, but I just really want to get a fulfilling job for when Im there and ryans saying it probably is unlikely af I can get a job at the school which really sucks. I am sure i will find work I enjoy for the time being, but not knowing what Visa I need is stressing me out...and I really do want to get started in my education career. I want to start teaching...so it will suck if i cant get a school job :( Im sure it will all work out, but I just really dont want to wait too long to start my career. I hope if I cant in england, it will work out for immediately after, whether we are still in the military or not. 
Sometimes I feel like im a bad person. i feel like im selfish. I want to just be good, without trying. Im sure im overreacting, but i feel I should do some shadow work and really work on being a GOOD person.
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strawb333ry · 2 years
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Ig some updates from how the summer has been so far, I got scouted to work for some influencer agency and am waiting for contact from them, I did balayage my hair , it looks awesome, I’m in turkey in our village rn and I lowk wish I was back home , we had a huge argument w my dad yesterday and I haven’t talked to anyone or even went out of bed the entire day (girl boss ik) I found a guy attractive at my dad’s cousins wedding but then I found out tht we were related and got really embarrassed, I dropped all lot of my “hoes” , I made a career goal change and decided to know try to be a lawyer after high school, I think I sprained my ankle but no one takes me seriously so they won’t let me go to the hospital, my first love came back and I thought that would feel better but after like two days it lost it’s hype and now he’s just another talking stage that is making me too overwhelmed to use social media , I have started getting intrusive thoughts while driving that tell me to crash on purpose, my dad bought me AirPods Pro bc my old headphones (those cool noise canceling Sony ones) apparently made me look “childish “ , I’m getting lenses when we come back to Sweden and I think it’s a good thing bc I have started to dislike wearing my glasses also my ex and his girl bsf are very openly stalking me and trying to harass me for literally no reason, like I’ve moved on so should u 💀 I feel angry and sad all the time , literally nothing makes me interested in anything anymore and after summer my weekly therapy sessions end bc I’m turning 18 and have to start at a new psychiatry , some guy asked my parents for my hand 💀 , I think I like turkey more than Sweden but the issue is that everything I have is there so obviously I’m going back but this still feels way better than Sweden , even the air smells better
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edge-lorde · 2 years
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Saw the new jurassic park and I liked it! ^w^
Had some good practical effects dinosaurs, not everything about the science made sense but it was nice to see some dinosaurs with feathers and a special mention to aquatic spinosaurus.
Spoilers below
Some of the cloning stuff doesn't make sense, like the mom of the clone girl being able to cure her daughter of her genetic disorder after she was born but not herself? My local paper covered a story about a genetic disorder that caused people to not be able to move and die young that scientists were trying to treat in a similar way they describe in the movie. That disorder was already presenting in people with the disease at or very close to birth though. The mom only found out she had the disorder when she was an adult, so the girl won't know if the mom really cured her until she grows up.
:/ it doesn't make sense that the scientist would need to study the clone girl imo, the mom was a known published scientist by the sounds of it, he should have her research to go off of. Him needing the baby raptor doesn't make sense at all. They have a very good handle on cloning in this world and he should have many cloned animals at the facility to look at.
The raptors don't really need to be in this movie. Following Chris Pratt to that snowy region should have probably killed blue, she does not look like a cold climate creature. Maybe if she had feathers I could believe it, but w/e. She's only there because they hyped her up so much in the previous movies they couldn't just leave her out.
I liked the villain being a gmo company. I liked seeing the franchise deal with new real life genetic engineering concepts and problems as technology improves.
I liked seeing all the old actors return, I liked the new characters, I even liked red haired girl and Chris Pratt in this. Their new dynamic as an established couple and caring parents to an adopted older child feels much more relatable and grounded, they loose some individuality but for the better I think.
Specifically, red haired girls wierd character arc from jurassic world 1 about going from a business woman who doesn't want kids to running in heels and wanting to marry Chris Pratt and have kids feels more natural when instead of giving up her career to have babies she's mentoring an older child and staying active in work she believes in, and Pratt too feels better as a generic dad who used to work at a zoo than a wierd shitty dude that the audience just has to deal with because he's the lead. Good changes.
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iwadori · 3 years
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Haikyu boys when they make you insecure PT 1 (Kenma,Kuroo)
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Part 1 Part 2  Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6.
Word Count:3k 
genre: angst, fluff
masterlist
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Kenma:
You and Kenma have been in a long distance relationship for a while.
Both of you stream, Kenma doing it seriously for his job and you just playing it for fun,
Sometimes you stream together of course but because of your difference in audiences and games you don’t do it all the time
“Bye guys! Hope you enjoyed todays stream” You wave off to the camera and shut off your PC taking a few sips of water.
Kenma: Hey.. nice stream today Y/N are you going to watch mine?
Y/N: Of course I will 
Kenma: Ok talk to you later
Y/N: okayy <3
Kenma is what inspired you to stream, he also taught you all the ins and outs of streaming making sure you were set and ready. Your gaming style was very relaxed and friendly as you obviously weren’t streaming as a career just for fun and to make friends with your online viewers. The games you played were usually: minecraft, COD, Sims 4, Roblox, Animal crossing and *Insert your favourite game here* the way I literally named all the games I play 
You wait for Kenmas stream to start, kind of excited as you’ve always loved seeing your boyfriend in his ‘element’ when it comes to playing to games. As your boyfriends stream starts you see he’s already chosen what game he is playing today which is to your surprise Call of duty, since that was the game you were playing earlier.
As he gets into the stream you are entertained, as always since Kenma was being his usual self laughing at his own deadpan jokes and interacting with his viewers. He is currently waiting for his capture the flag game to start so as he waits he decides to read some comments in the chat.
You’re used to the usual ‘Kenma where is Y/N I miss your usual streams together’ or ‘kenma please RAIL me’ which always makes you laugh. You were also used to the common hate comments Kenma and You both got on your streams but you were definitely not ready for this..
@ Ihatewomanandiamadick : Hey Kenma did you see your girls stream today she is so dog shit at COD lmaoooo jhdfkjdrhdrr
“Well hello ihatewomenandiamadick” started Kenma “but yes I did see Y/N stream and obviously she is not the best at games and I would definitely NOT ask her to team with me for any serious gaming competitions ... but she’s fun to watch I guess” as he finished speaking about you his game loaded up so he focused his attention on that the words he just spoke going to the back of his mind as they end up at the forefront of yours.
You obviously knew you were no match for Kenma’s gaming expertise but you didn’t expect him to publicly agree with a hate comment let alone add more of his imput on you. Did he really think that about you? ‘She’s fun to watch I guess’ did he not even enjoy your streams that much?
You wanted to distract yourself, and you definitely couldn’t do that watching him so you close off of his stream and get in your bed deciding to watch your favourite show. 
Waking up at 6pm after your sad nap, you see that Kenma has left some messages to you,
Kenma: hey did you watch my stream?
Kenma: do you want to facetime later and play some minecraft..?
Kenma: y/n r u ok??
Y/N: oh hey cnt play minecraft w you rn not really in the mood..
Kenma: oh ok..
Time passed since then a month to be exact and you basically dropped off of the face of the earth, you weren’t in the mood to do anything let alone game and stream, which was a constant reminder of your boyfriend (something you didn’t want at the time.) 
You felt embarrassed over all the things he said about you and all the things you now think he thinks about you and the way you play. Maybe he thinks even worse things about you, beyond just how you game? What if he doesn’t even genuinely like you...or he has someone else...it does make sense, you do both live miles and miles away from eachother AND he’s a big streamer you see the amount of girls in his comments.
You shake your head to erase your protruding thoughts coming in your mind, but it doesn’t really help. You and Kenma haven’t spoken much over this month he tried to constantly reach out to you at first but you assume he got bored over your constant, repetitive dry texts. So you were almost content with you and Kenma not even being in a relationship anymore.
However on Kenma’s side, he was beyond worried about you. Since you haven’t been streaming or barely responded to his texts he thought something happened to you, but he didn’t want to be seen as ‘overstepping boundaries’ if there was nothing wrong at all with you and you simply were just ‘not in the mood.’ 
So here he is, in Kuroo’s apartment trying to get him to help him out on finding out what is wrong with you.
“So kenma can you remember what happened the day when Y/N went ‘ghost’“ asked Kuroo in a mock detective voice
“Y/N didn’t go ‘ghost’ Kuro, and take this seriously” said Kenma “I’m worried bout her”
“Okay fine, but for real what’s the last thing you remember before she started acting all weird.” 
“Umm I think it was around a month ago I did my saturday stream and I think she was on it but she didn’t leave her usual nice comments throughout”
“Ohh that was the stream when you sai-” Kuroo said before pausing his words as the memory of what Kenma said about you on his stream came in his mind, as even Kuroo thought it was a tad bit harsh for Kenma to say all those things “I think I know why Y/N has been so distant kiddo”
“What why?” Asked Kenma
Kuroo pulls out his phone and brings up the clip off what Kenma said and Kenma’s face cringes ‘did he really say all those things about you’ he thinks. 
“Shit.. I didn’t know I said all of that” he said quietly “how do I make it up to her?”
“There’s only one thing you can really do Kenma” said kuroo
You are woken up out of your sleep by a knock on the door. Getting out your bed like a zombie, you trudge to your front door only surprised by what you see. There in his 5′6 glory stood your ‘boyfriend’ Kenma with a controller and a kitten teddy in his hand. You were very tempted to shut the door in his face and get back to your dreamless sleep but you waited on him to speak.
“Hi Y/N” he said quietly “wanna play some minecraft...?”
“Why so you can ridicule me on how shit I am?” You ask bitterly ready to shut the door on him
“No! No not all” he said stopping you from shutting the door entering your place “Y/N i’m really sorry on what I said, I wasn’t thinking AT ALL... I love watching your streams and I think you’re great at playing games...I was just being a dick,”
You take a deep breath before tears pool in your eyes “what you said really hurt me kenma..” you say “ I know people say shitty things on the internet all the time... it’s the internet. But I wasn’t expecting you to agree with the hater and say even more shitty things on top of that.. I don’t think I want to even stream anymore”
Upon hearing that, Kenma’s mouth parts open with shock ‘you dont want to stream anymore’ were his comments that bad? Now he feel even worse as he should and is now more determined to make things right. 
He impulsively drags your arm into your game room, catching your surprise ‘what is he up too?’ you think. He stops for a second seeing your usual pristine gaming set up, collected up with dust. 
“What are you do-” you start 
“Just wait!” He says, as he rushes away turning on all your stuff and logging onto his twitch account as he sees the views go up he starts to speak
 “Hi guys, its me kodzuken and today I’m here on stream with my beautiful girlfriend and today I want to say..” he turns to you “Y/N im so sorry for the horrible things I said to you that day... I was just being a dick and I’m sorry I really am.”
You look at the chat and you see some confusion and some people recalling his words from last month. “It’s fine Kenma, I forgive you” you say giving him a hug”
“Okay Y/N, so what do you say... wanna beat my ass at bed wars?” He says with a smirk 
“When have I ever loss?” you return his smirk
Of course you did beat his ass as bed wars for rounds on rounds never losing proving yourself to actually be a good gamer girl. You enjoyed your time with Kenma, forgetting what he said before about you and moving on. 
Eventually, you guys moved in together and streamed together all the time and yes you still do play for fun but you’ve gotten way better at COD (some may say better then Kenma) but who is better didn’t matter to any of you, as long as you got to play together that’s all you both cared about.
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Kuroo:
Kuroo and you have been together since you were in your first year of high school 
You met as friends first when you got him to tutor you in chemistry ( a subject you still aren’t that good at.)
Now you have your upcoming entrance exams for university in a month so your school has you doing mock exams in preparation for them.
20%
You look down at your chemistry paper that your teacher just handed you. 20%. You’re surprised, very surprised since out of all your subjects (that you go 90+% on) you studied on the chemistry test the hardest ensuring Testurou, that you didn’t need his help at all. But I guess it turns out, you did.
This failing mock grade put a blunder on your day, you didn’t interact with anyone and didn’t want to see your boyfriend so you skipped your usual routine of meeting him on the rooftop and went to the library instead ‘might aswell start early on your studying’ you thought.
As you were going over your chemistry topics, you hear an ‘ahem’ next to you and you turn your head only to find your boyfriend and his friends next to you. Kuroo with his usual goofy smile on his face. 
“Hey kitten where were you at lunch?” he asked 
“Needed to go to the library, Chemistry is kicking my ass” you mumbled 
“Oya” he said as he noticed your chemistry test laying under your textbook “20%, well damn Y/N I knew you were stupid, but I didn’t know you were that stupid” he laughed doing his stupid usual hyena-like laugh.
Ouch well that hurt. You slightly flinched at his words, “Really your name, you didn’t know the molecular formula for ethanol, that’s first year work” he said continuing to laugh “I’m pretty sure that’s one of the first things I tutored you on when we first met” 
His overbearing laughter was not good for you, you were already having a bad day and yes you do know your not that good at chemistry but you didn’t need your chemistry-enthusiast boyfriend to make fun of you for failing. Kenma and Yaku stood there awkwardly obviously aware of how bad Kuroo is making you feel but they didn’t really know how to stop his friend in the moment.Whilst he’s still dying of laughter you decide to pack up your stuff and leave the library.
You managed to get your Chemistry tutor to let you retake your mock paper in a week so that means, extra hard studying with no distractions you definitely can’t fail again. Since studying on your own was definitely not a good option, and you couldn’t go to Kuroo (especially after he ridiculed you) you decided to ask the second smartest person you know to tutor you.
Y/N: Hey Yaku! Can I ask you a favour?
Yaku: Hi Y/N what do you need??
Y/N: I have my chemistry retake next week, and as you know from your loud-loud friend I failed my recent test so can you tutor me?? 
Y/N: Pleaseeee
Yaku: Ok Y/N why can’t you ask Kuroo you know that he’d be more than happy to help
Y/N: Yakuu pleasee just help me out 
So there you was, nearly a week done with your study sessions with Yaku and you’re feeling way more confident than before. 
“Y/N what is the functional group of a Carboxylic Acid” Yaku asked
“umm... COO?” 
“Great! that’s correct Y/N” he praises i dont actually know if it’s correct or not
You then hear a knock at Yaku’s front door and hear his mum let the person in, Kuroo then enters Yaku’s bedroom with shock plastered on his face surprised to see you here.
“Y/N...hey?” he says confused “what are you doing here?”
“Oh Mori-chan is just helping me with chemistry for my retake tommorow” you say nochalantly internally smiling at the twinge in Kuroo’s face at the purposeful use of Yaku’s first name.
“So why didn’t you ask me to help you know I’m a chemistry whiz” he asks
“Maybe I’m too stupid to be taught under your tutelage” you mumble “since I seem to forget whatever you teach me, even when it’s 3 years ago... but ok”
“Y/N I-” he starts 
“Oh save it Kuroo, I have studying to do” you say cutting him off
“But I-” he tries
“So Mori-chan COOH is the function group of ethyl ethonate right?” you ask ignoring your boyfriend who is now at a lost for words
“ummm yeah it is” says yaku who is clearly feeling heavily awkward at the tension in his bedroom.
Kuroo leaves and you and yaku finish off the studying for the night, you did feel a little bad for being a bit mean to Kuroo but it’s karma for him being a dick to you. 
You wake up the next day ready for your exam which was first thing in the morning, before you hand in your phone you see a message from Kuroo,
Kuroo: I know you’re still mad at me, but I think you’re going to do so well on this test. You’re not stupid at all, you’re really smart and I love you < 3 
Kuroo: Good luck Y/N
You don’t respond to the message but smile at the sincerity of it and thankful for the boost of confidence it gave you before you start your exam.
Finishing the exam with a smile, you were confident you did well as everything you and Yaku went over was on the paper and you’re almost certain you atleast got more than 75%. You have to wait an hour before your teacher can give you your results, so in the meantime you might aswell reconcile with Kuroo.
When you exit the classroom, standing there was Kuroo who seemed to have been waiting for you for the whole duration of the exam.
“So how was it?” Kuroo asked, apprenhensive as he assumed you would just ignore him like you did at Yaku’s house.
“It was fine, I think it went alright..” you say
“Kuroo”
“Y/N”
You say simultaneously, he pauses for a second to let you speak “I’m sorry I was being so stand offish when we were at Yaku’s I just wanted you to see I could do it on my own, and when you called me stupid I really took that to heart since you and I both know that Chemistry wasn’t ever my best subject” 
“I’m sorry too, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, and since it was only a practice test I didn’t think you’d take it to heart but I am sorry I know you aren’t stupid.”
Before you got to say anything else, your Chemistry teacher exited the room with your chemistry paper in hand. Kuroo grabbed your hand anticipating your nerves and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“Miss L/N” said your teacher “Well done on your chemistry test” he turned your test around to sure a perfect 100%. Both you and Kuroo gasped, you were elated to say the least you wanted to jump up and down in excitement but a PERFECT 100%.
“I’d also like to add that you have now got the top chemistry score in the school beating the previous title holder Kuroo Testurou” said your teacher, this made Kuroo open his mouth even wider in surprise nearly making you giggle at his response. 
Your teacher took his leave, leaving you and Kuroo in the hallway “ I guess i’m the chemistry whizz now “ you say wiggling your eyebrows just as Kuroo did to you before at Yaku’s this made him chuckle as he came to put his arm around you.
“Y/N don’t get ahead of yourself now, you may have won this battle but I will win the war” he said smiling
In the final exam, you continue your winning streak also getting a near 100% and still beating Kuroo which didn’t matter to either of you, now you’re just like him cracking chemistry puns and jokes all the time which none of your friends appreciated but atleast Kuroo found them SODIUM funny.
AN: Please kill me for the last line of Kuroos, I didn’t really like Kuroo’s since it was a bit self indulgent with my hate for chemistry but what do you guys think?
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3K notes · View notes
kyrenasfics · 2 years
Text
Our Family | Chapter 7
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Pairing : Idol!Jaehyun x makeup artist!Reader
Genre : angst
Warnings : mention of cheating
Wordcount : 1.5k
taglist : @thejeongjaehyun @mooneaj @xxxx-23nct
[series masterlist] // [previous] [next]
~
Jaehyun is busy with their new comeback promotion. He barely comes home or either comes home late, like 3 in the morning, then he will be out again at 6.
You always text him asking what time he is coming back home but you always get either “no still practicing” or “I’ll be home late, you can sleep first” and he always replies at around 11pm and you are mostly already asleep because of your pregnancy. You feel fatigue.
After your “almost miscarriage incident”, Jaehyun barely touched you or should say as he doesn’t have any time to touch you. SM just told you at they are having a mega project in 4 months and need you to be in their makeup department. He almost lived in SM. You know Taeyong is strict about their dance, their angle and their tidiness. So you do not blame Jaehyun for not coming home, it’s his career just like how much you like being a makeup artist.
But a few days ago when you were doing the laundry, you saw a lipstick mark on Jaehyun’s tshirt. You know you shouldn’t doubt Jaehyun, but who else wouldn’t doubt when they saw a lipstick mark. Maybe some staff left it by accident? Yes it must be like that, it’s an accident.
Today you saw the lipstick mark on Jaehyun’s tshirt once again when you were doing laundry.
You try to convince yourself that it’s just an accident, then continue your chores. You still thrust Jaehyun, if you precipitate to question him, maybe your marriage might break down.
Tonight he came home.
You woke up with the door cracking sound.
“You are home?” You ask sleepily
“Yeah.” He just answered and went into the bathroom.
He finishes showering then comes back to bed. When you feel him lying down, you move closer to him. Your hand travels to his crotch but what you get is only him saying this.
“(Y/N) I’m very tired. I still have to be up at 6.” He said impatiently.
“It’s okay you don’t have to do anything, i’ll do everything.” You said, reached into his pants but he held your wrist.
“(Y/N) I said I’m very tired, it’s not about what you do or I do it, it’s that I’m really very tired please let me rest ok.” He said then turn his back facing you.
You felt so heart breaking so he, rather touch others, but not you? You are already not attractive enough for him? You turn your back facing him as well and sink into your sleep.
You wake up once again without Jaehyun being at your side, you are already used to it. You had scheduled for Red Velvet today, so you quickly washed up, then went out. After they finished shooting, they asked if you want to have a drink together. You are very close with Red Velvet because you are always assigned to their group so you and Red Velvet become more intimate.
“Hey (Y/N) did something happen between you and Jaehyun? He stayed up late practicing a lot recently. One day I saw him still practicing at 12 midnight.” Joy said.
“Yeah I know, they are having their comeback promotion now and SM just informed me weeks ago they are having a mega project. They assigned their makeup department to me, maybe that’s why he’s being so late.” You said and smiled.
They know you are Jaehyun’s wife and you tell them you are pregnant after your first checkup. You always update them about your pregnancy also.
“But I saw he was with a girl th-“ Joy said but Wendy stopped her and looked up at me nervously.
“W-what? Is Jaehyun with a girl?” You ask
“He’s with a girl but maybe she is their choreographer. They are practicing with her?” Wendy said trying to calm you down.
“No… there’s a lipstick mark on his tshirt…” You say with watery eyes.
They are all stunned and don’t know what they should say.
“Hey, you think too much, don’t listen to Joy. Jaehyun will never cheat on you, okay?” Wendy tried to calm you down.
“Did he… find me not attractive anymore…” You said sadly
“Am I getting fatter? Am I out of shape?” You frowned.
“Never think of yourself like that (Y/N), you are as pretty as always.” Irene said, holding your hand.
“Let’s go watch a movie alright, (Y/N) stop thinking about it ok?” Yeri said.
“Ya Let’s go, let’s go.” Wendy trying to cheer you up.
After the talk, you go watch a movie with Red Velvet and also the 6 of you shop around the mall, you bought some maternity clothes. You're about to go into a lingerie store to buy some new underwear because you need new underwear since your breast got bigger too, the one doesn’t fit anymore but when you see a figure that looks a lot like Jaehyun, you quickly tap on Wendy’s shoulder.
“Is that Jaehyun?” You asked
Wendy looked over at the girl and boy, then shook her head.
“That’s impossible, he’s practicing in SM rite now. You thought too much (Y/N).” Wendy said then pulled you into fitting room with her.
Maybe you are thinking too much or maybe Jaehyun is really cheating on you. You wanted to call Jaehyun but Wendy stopped you.
“Trust me, he will never cheat on you, now enjoy shopping ok?” Wendy said.
You nodded and continue your shopping with them.
~
It’s February 14th today. Yes, Valentine’s Day and Jaehyun’s birthday.
You [9:41am] : don’t be home too late tonight, it’s your birthday ❤️
Jaehyun [13:18pm] : Sorry I’ll be home late I’m busy practicing
Jaehyun [13:18pm] : You should sleep first
You [13:20pm] : It’s okay I can wait for you ❤️
You did not get a respond from Jaehyun after your last message although you already expected.
You feel so empty being alone in this house, so you went to a nearby cafe to have something to drink.
“One latte please.” You order at the counter
“Sure.” The waiter says
You found an empty window seat, you sat down and start scrolling on your phone.
“Hi, is there anyone sitting here?” The man asked.
“Oh, no, there’s no one here.” You smiled
He sat down in front of you.
He notices that you are looking at some cake recipe on your phone.
“Sorry but no offense, are you looking for a cake recipe?” He asked.
“Ya yes.” You smiled
“Actually, I own a bakery shop.” He smiled.
“Oh really? Can you teach me how to bake a cake?” You asked excitedly.
“Ya sure, when are you free?” He asked
“Em, actually I need the cake today… are you free today?” You asked
“Ya I have nothing to do today.” He smiled
“Oh thank god, my house is just near by.” You said.
He nodded and you both went home together.
On the way back to your home, you both talked quite a lot.
“I still haven’t got to know your name.” He smiled
“My name is (Y/N)” You chuckled.
“Such a beautiful name, I’m Hwiyoung, nice to meet you.” He chuckled and held out his hand. You shake your hand with his.
“Just asking, are you single?” Hwiyoung asked.
“Haha I’m married.” You laughed
“Oh wow, as expected, beauties are always taken.” Hwiyoung chuckled.
“If I met you earlier, then maybe I'd have a chance.” Hwiyoung chuckled.
“Maybe.” You laughed and shrugged your shoulders.
~
“Wow, your house is big,” Hwiyoung said, mouth open wide.
“Is that so? But it’s always me at home alone.” You smile
“Your husband is not home?” Hwiyoung asked.
“He’s busy.” You smiled
Hwiyoung tells you the tips for baking cakes and more about baking cakes, then you both start baking.
“Wow you bake so well.” You clapped when Hwiyoung took the cake out of the oven.
“Of course, I have been baking for years.” He laughed.
You decorate the cake and put it into the refrigerator, wait for Jaehyun to come home.
“Thank you for teaching me how to bake. You are my love saver.” You smiled
“You’re welcome, hope you and your husband enjoy.” He said and left your house.
~
It’s already 7 at night, you change into your sexy lingerie you bought weeks ago and wait for Jaehyun. You watch some movies while waiting for Jaehyun, you don’t know what time it is but you accidentally fall asleep without noticing. You woke up the other day without Jaehyun’s figure at your side, and his bedside is still the same as last night. Or you should say he never came.
Your heart broke into pieces. It’s Valentine’s Day, his birthday as well. A very important day for the two of you, but he chooses to practice or maybe he’s celebrating with another girl rather than celebrating it with you.
© KYRENASFICS, 2022
180 notes · View notes
starryhyuck · 3 years
Text
not the same. (m)
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pairing: dom!renjun x sub!reader
words: 2k+
summary: you haven’t seen renjun in years, and you can’t deny your crush on him hasn’t gone away.
genre: fluff, smut
warnings: multiple orgasms, creampie, choking, degradation
This isn’t weird. You’re hanging out with Renjun for the night just like you used to.
He’s also incredibly hot now, but that’s a different story.
The door swings open and you put on your best smile. Renjun grins back and envelops you in a hug, and you try your best to ignore the warmth pooling at your core.
“Hey, I missed you!”
You giggle and wrap your arms around his waist. “I missed you too, Renjun.”
He ushers you inside and notes that the rest of the boys are gone for the night, so it would just be you two. All alone. For hours.
You can do this.
“I made dinner, I’m hoping you still like that stuff we used to eat in school,” he chuckles, hovering over the stove while you take a seat at the dining table.
“It sounds great,” you beam. “Thank you.”
You cough awkwardly. You don’t really know what to say — you haven’t seen Renjun in a few years. The both of you were practically joined at the hip since birth, but you’ve grown a lot after he left, and so has he. You still kept in touch with his career and his surmounting success, but FaceTime calls aren’t the same as being together in real life.
“Do you still dance?” He questions, stirring whatever contents he was brewing. “I remember how good you used to be.”
You chuckle. “From time to time, but not as much as before. I can obviously tell you’re still dancing. Donghyuck mentioned you’ve been working out a lot lately too.”
He rolls his eyes playfully. “Yeah, I work out, but nothing changes.”
I beg to differ. You cough again.
“When did you start talking to Donghyuck again anyways?” He asks. You think you hear a hint of jealousy in his voice, but you shake the thought off before it grows.
“You know him, he’s always bugging me when he gets bored. He was also trying to find something to blackmail you with.”
He laughs, and you forgot how that sound used to make you feel. You shove down the butterflies blooming in your chest. Your crush on Renjun really never went away, especially after he rose to stardom and kept in contact with you. His parents still call you their daughter-in-law, which doesn’t help your attempts to let the crush subside at all.
You eat dinner in silence, and it isn’t comfortable silence either. It’s after a few minutes pass when Renjun grows upset and throws down his chopsticks.
“What’s wrong with us? We were never awkward like this before.”
You blink, avoiding his gaze. “Um, well, we haven’t seen each other in a long while.”
“But we talk all the time,” he frowns. “We had a two hour call just last week.”
You shrug. “I don’t know what to tell you, Renjun.”
You want to tell him that seeing him in person clearly has an effect on you. Your panties are practically ruined just because you’re sitting next to him. It’s been like this all the time, but you’re usually able to control your affections for him in a more subtle manner.
“Is it me? Is it the food? Do you actually not like it anymore? I can-“
“No, no, the food is fine,” you assure. You feel incredibly bashful trying to speak to him about your thoughts. “I just- I don’t know. It’s hard. Seeing you in person again.”
His eyebrows furrow. “Why?”
You exhale. “Because you always make me feel weird, Renjun.”
His frown grows deeper. “Okay, you lost me. Am I making you uncomfortable? I don’t mean to.”
“No!” You hiss, getting frustrated. “I just- The crush I had on you years ago never went away, okay? I tried, but it’s just hard seeing you like this.”
You angrily stab your fork into your food and curse yourself silently. You pause when you feel his hands move over yours, turning so you can face him.
“Renjun, what are you-“
You gasp when his lips press against yours, thumb caressing your cheek slowly. You whimper when he pulls you closer against him, to the point where you’re almost straddling his lap.
“Renjun,” you whisper, and he shushes you.
“It’s okay, baby. How long did you wait for me?”
Your fingers grip his shoulder as he balances you on top of him.
“I- um-“
He laughs. “I heard you tell Jaemin a few months ago about your crush. I was wondering if I should make a move or not.”
You narrow your eyes. “So you knew.”
He hums, and moves his mouth to press kisses against your neck. The sensation has you arching at the touch, and your breath hitches as Renjun’s hands move lower and lower.
“So all that time, you were just imagining yourself under me, weren’t you?”
You swallow. “Maybe.”
He laughs again, but this time, it sounds just a little more sinister. You wonder if you’ve awoken something in him.
You squeal when he picks you up, easily moving the two of you to his bedroom. He lays you down on his bed, fingers still gripping your hips tightly. He smiles down at you.
“Aren’t you a pretty sight?”
“Won’t Jisung be mad? We’re violating his room.”
“It’s my room too,” he muses, sucking at the sensitive spot on your neck. “And he won’t know. I understand you’re incapable of keeping a secret, but I’m actually quite good at it.”
“Hey!” You pout.
He grins. “Cutie.” He pauses as his hands hover over your jeans. “I should let you know something before we go further.”
You nod, sensing the nervousness in his tone. “It’s okay, Renjun. I trust you.”
He chuckles. “I’m not usually- um, I’m not usually delicate with these sorts of things.”
You raise an eyebrow. “You mean having sex?”
“Yeah. I mean, I’m not crazy, but I don’t like going slow.”
“Well, it’s not like I’m a virgin, Renjun.”
“I just think it would be best if we have a safe word.”
Arousal builds within you at the thought of Renjun being so rough. You never expected it from him, if you’re being completely honest. Renjun was always your happy, tiny friend who loved you unconditionally.
“Um, okay. How about pineapple?”
“Sounds good to me.”
And then Renjun unleashes a part of him you’ve never seen before. You gasp when he undresses you in a blink of an eye, his eyes darkening at the lace of your panties.
“Did you wear this for me, baby?”
You stutter. “I-I didn’t know-“
He smiles. “Just teasing. You look so cute when you’re on the spot, you know.”
You don’t have time to respond before he’s running a finger up your clothed core. You hiss and arch your back.
“So responsive,” he hums. “Tell me how you like it, baby.”
You blink. “I usually like it when they eat me out first.”
“Yeah?” He asks, taking the shell of your ear between his lips. “You like it when they eat your cunt? When they play with your pretty little pussy?”
You whimper at the filth leaving his mouth. “Yes, yes,” you cry. “I want it, please.”
He growls. “Fuck, baby. I want to make a mess out of you.”
He moves until he’s in between your thighs, pressing kisses against the flesh. Your breath hitches as his fingers tug your underwear down. You’re a little shy to be so bare in front of him, but with the way Renjun looks at you, you swear he’s about to devour you at any moment.
You whine when he takes the first lick up your slit, pleasure shooting through your veins. You watch as he spits onto your cunt, tongue circling over your clit roughly. Your orgasm crashes into you without warning and you cry out, tangling your hands into his hair and pulling him closer. He drinks your essence as you ride out the waves of your high.
“Renjun, Renjun, Renjun,” you chant his name, feeling over the moon.
He laughs when you come down. “You cum really fast. Good.”
“Wait-“
You almost scream when he slides two fingers into you. His thumb presses against your clit harshly and you move to scramble away from him.
“I’m too sensitive, no, no-“
He shushes you. “Don’t worry, baby. I got you.”
You swear you scream when he pushes a third finger inside your dripping pussy, sending you over the edge again. You’re a whimpering mess at this point, begging Renjun to give you a break while he coos at you.
“Aw, you’re so pretty when you look like a little whore for me, baby. Are you always this wet for everyone else?”
“J-Just for you,” you whisper, struggling to breathe. He laughs at your disheveled state.
“It’s just for me? Pretty slut, all for me, right baby?”
You nod and he retracts his fingers, stuffing them in his mouth. He nearly licks them clean and you gasp at how lewd the action is.
“Can I h-have your cock n-now?”
His grin stretches from ear to ear. “Oh? You want more? So greedy.”
“Renjun, please.”
“You can do a lot better than that,” he teases. “Tell me how much you want my cock, sweet girl.”
You scramble. “I want it s-s-so badly, R-Renjun. W-Want you to fill my t-tight pussy with your cock. You made me wait too long,” you whine.
“I did make you wait a long time, didn’t I?”
You eagerly agree, hoping he’ll give you what you desire. You squeak when his fingers close around your throat. He leans down to lick a stripe up your cheek.
“Open.” You follow instructions, opening your mouth wide and observing as his spit trails down to your tongue. “Swallow.”
You obey and he smiles, pleased with your performance.
“I’m gonna fuck you now, baby. Remember your safe word?”
You nod. All you can do is lay down and watch as he frees his cock from the confines of his underwear, his hand still wrapped around your throat possessively. Your eyes widen at the length of his cock, giving himself a few tugs before he positions at your entrance.
You whine. “Hurry, Renjun.”
“Such an impatient whore.”
The stretch is burning and you moan, your eyes locked on how Renjun struggles to push inside of you.
“Fuck. You’re so fucking tight.” When he bottoms out, you both exhale loudly. He pushes your thighs apart further and balances himself on his knees. “Remember that safe word, baby.”
You wonder why Renjun was so concerned about pushing it too far until he actually fucks you. The pleasure is mind numbing, and combined with him choking you and rubbing at your clit, you feel like you’re going to pass out. It gets to be too much for you again, and you whimper, trying to push him away.
He scolds you. “Don’t be such a brat. Take your fucking like a good girl.”
You’re sure you have another two orgasms without actually registering they’re happening. You feel limp in his arms, practically turning into a doll for him to fuck as he pleases. When the fire builds in your stomach again, you feel a tear slip down your cheek.
“I can’t, Renjun. I c-can’t.”
“Yes, you can and you will. One more, pretty girl, and I’ll give you all my cum like a good whore deserves. Don’t you want that, baby?”
And you want it. You want it more than you’ve ever wanted anything before.
Your last orgasm is blinding, and you grip his arm tightly, trying to pull him as close as you possibly can. Your whole body twitches and Renjun groans, spilling into you after you continuously clench down on his cock.
When you both recover, you feel like a different person. You faintly hear him rising to clean you up, whimpering when his cock slips out of you. His calming voice returns soon after.
“Shh, good girl. Did so good for me.”
Your eyes widen when you feel him gather the cum dripping onto your thighs and pushing it back into you.
“Renjun-“
“It’s okay, I got you. Last one, I promise.”
You fulfill his wishes, and it doesn’t take very much for you to be thrown off the edge again. You pass out shortly after, hearing his praises before your eyes flutter shut.
“Good girl. So pretty and pliant for me. Sweet dreams.”
1K notes · View notes
1kook · 4 years
Text
disney+ & bust
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this is part of my netflix & chill collection !
summary; There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb. It’s not. It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door.  warnings; arguments, feelings of insecurity, bit of asshole jk, smut in the forms of degradation, dumbification, choking, fingering, spit kink, self punishment, unprotected but [ passionate ] sex, jk losing his cool, return of mean jk, he is actually an emotional mess in this one wtf miscellaneous; ANGST, anniversaries, the L word😳, app developer kook, rip ‘pretty girl’ </3, we all become phineas and ferb stans word count; 13k !!
notes; me: *writes couple who’s whole arc is being silly* y’all: MAKE THEM SUFFER GIVE US ANGST!! u ask I deliver so now we all suffer 😐 ngl it was hard writing this fic n u might notice there’s some parts that seem weird n that’s bc this was TWO fics w diff wording but I ended up mixing them bc I’m insane. still had a lot of fun! felt like I challenged myself!! not proofread bc when I say we suffer we SUFFER
please let me know what you think!!! a simple ask goes a long way <3
previous part: kissanime & foreplay
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Approximately one week after The Bullet Bestie’s rise to prominence, Jungkook grows annoyed with it as his weirdly competitive nature rears its ugly head the more and more orgasms that little vibrator coaxes out of you. It turns on a weird switch in him, something slightly stuck up and snooty that he’ll never admit to out loud but is there nonetheless. By the following Friday, The Bullet Bestie is nestled deep in your garbage can and Jungkook’s back to pleasuring you with his tongue and fingers alone.
He had those moments in him, the ones where he liked to think he was better than any and everyone else, and occasionally they manifested against inanimate objects like a bullet vibrator.
Despite his polite and generally soft exterior, you catch glimpses of that cocky spirit more than anyone else. Over the past year, you’ve come to realize that Jungkook’s personality was like a coin that had been left out in the sun too long. He had this sweet and reserved nature you saw most times, a kindhearted boyfriend who adored you almost as much as you adored him. He was your angel whom you knew had a heart of gold, even if you were slowly bringing out his more childish tendencies. You knew him like the back of your hand, knew what his mom’s favorite color was and how he liked to stack the plates in his cabinet according to size and make. It was a side that was rusted from years of being out in the sun, basking in its adoring warmth, and you loved every inch about it.
And still, there was this other side to him you rarely saw. This cocky asshole who hid beneath the soft smiles and careful hands, making his appearance only through sly smirks and a tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. He was a braggart, a man who knew his greatness yielded for no one and wanted that fact shoved down everyone’s faces. This Jungkook, this other side that never saw the light of day, was like the Hyde to his Jekyll. An unexpected, almost mean side to him that only dared make his appearance when his exhilaration was at an all-time high. Like when he was fucking you into another dimension, or kicking your ass in Mario Kart, or like now, when he was receiving an award at an annual tech ceremony.
On the eve of your one year anniversary, Jungkook’s company invites him to an awards ceremony for other web and app developers like him. It’s a grand event, filled with all the biggest nerds in the developing industry here to present the baby nerds with awards. Jungkook lies somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, both a seasoned player and a rookie all at once. He spends the night tolling you around in a floor-length gown and fangirling over all the “legends” in the room.
You know next to none of these people and none of their accomplishments but still pretend you respect them to hell and back. By the end of the main dinner, you’re sympathizing with Barbie’s ever-smiling features because your cheeks feel sore.
Towards the end of the night, Jungkook wins that random award— okay, who were you fooling? He wins the Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award, recognizing him for all the hard work you’ve seen him put in this past year. It’s probably the highest recognition he can receive at this point in his career. It was an esteemed award that was bestowed upon only the most innovative developer of the year among tech companies, something Jungkook had briefly mentioned he always wanted. It’s basically the equivalent of placing first place in his field, but given Jungkook’s competitive industry and his young age, you think it’s like telling all these old Facebook lords to suck his big fat cock. (But that was your job when you got home.)
He gives a short little thank you speech, promising to work hard and own up to this title. The people around you are swooning, obviously endeared with his soft puppy dog features and melodic voice. They don’t know him like you do, don’t know that uppity twist to his grin like you do. It doesn’t slip off his face even when he steps down off the stage, arms wide open as he comes barreling towards you. Even with you in his arms, the congratulations that are thrown from every direction ring loudly in his ears and swell that ego of his.
The night goes like that for the most part, Jungkook’s acquaintances approaching him every few minutes to rain down their praises. He goes a little crazy at the open bar after a while, shoving the gold trophy into your arms as his beloved work seniors whisk him off for drinks. You don’t mind because you resigned yourself to a night of playing Jungkook’s perfectly perfect partner anyway, watching him politely mingling with his coworkers. Despite his earlier success, you know he won’t brag about it verbally. No, he’ll wait until the two of you get home—your place or his—and remind you how amazing he is with a quick snap of his hips.
As you said, he’ll never boast aloud.
However, that doesn’t mean you won’t.
“That’s my boyfriend,” you explain to the seventh person that greets you that night, excitedly pointing to where said boyfriend was slowly losing all sense of self by the bar. You don’t know anyone here beside Jungkook, and you’re pretty sure no one in their hammered minds is going to remember who you are anyway, so a little gloating never hurt anyone. “He won the ‘I’m Better Than Everyone Else’ award tonight,” you emphasize to the tipsy woman beside you who only laughs at your exaggeration. You assume she’s like you, accompanying one of the many developers here, because as soon as you finish boasting about Jungkook she moves to brag about someone too.
Truth be told, you spend the whole night re-analyzing the Zootopia movie you saw on Disney+ the other night in your head. So if the little fox fellow didn’t control himself would the city have fallen to ruins? Why was the useless sheep girl so evil and bitter? Why was there an unreal amount of romantic tension between the fox and the rabbit? Whatever, you’ll have to rewatch it some other night, and with your new Disney+ account, you could watch it anywhere you wanted to.
Now, you had never bothered to purchase a Disney+ subscription or even tried to swindle Jungkook for his password before. As far as you know, Disney+ was filled with old tv shows from your childhood, sitcoms that made you laugh when you were ten. There’s nothing wrong with that, but personally, you were a firm believer that that which was perfect should not be touched once finished; in other words, you were utterly terrified you’d rewatch an old episode of The Wizards of Waverly Place, only to find out the same joke you’ve been regurgitating for the past ten years doesn’t actually go that way.
However, the harsh reality was that Disney+ was good for a few things. Ugh, you hate when giant corporations provide decent services. Aside from Zootopia, you’ve watched about every animated media on there as well, all of which you replay in your mind as Jungkook has the time of his life with these nerds, knocking back champagne glass after champagne glass.
Anyway, the night ends a little past midnight, and Jungkook who is buzzed on alcohol and high on exhilaration ends up calling an Uber for the two of you. Your apartment— the new one he had not only helped you hunt for but also helped you move into, greatly cutting the cost of movers out with those glistening biceps and thick thighs —is still going through her rebellious phase where the potted plants are trying to take over, courtesy of Kim Namjoon. So for now, there’s a potted plant in an awkward corner that both of you stub your toe against on your way to your bedroom.
You’re thinking Jungkook is going to go to town tonight, given the fact he’s on Cloud 9 and has had his ego stroked by a bunch of dudes for the past couple hours. Maybe you guys can try out the hot role-playing scenario you saw on GirlsWay a few weeks ago, or the handcuffs you impulsively bought from Amazon one Monday night. Or maybe, and this one really makes you flutter, he’ll let you fully take the reins for once.
All those lewd fantasies end up being for naught because just as you shimmy out of your gown (with the help of his hands, of course) and turn to climb him like a tree, he’s on the other side of the room getting your makeup remover out for you. And also talking. A lot. And way more than usual.
“Did you see him, babe?” he sighs, dare you to say, dreamily, handing you the cotton pads as he begins pulling a million pins out of your hair. Slowly and with a lot of confusion, you pull your fake lashes off and begin cleaning your face. “He was amazing.”
“Uh-huh,” you say, having absolutely no idea who ‘he’ is or why Jungkook is so in love with him and not you at this very moment. “But so were you,” you add. Perfect. Stroke his ego and then stroke his cock.
Jungkook sputters at your praise. He’s carefully placing your hairpins on your thigh, cheeks flaming red every time he leans over you. “Was I?” he murmurs, voice sweet in that cute little way it always gets when he’s downed one too many shots of whiskey, enough to be buzzed but not enough to be wasted.
You turn and the pins clatter to the floor and across the bedsheets. “Yes,” you confirm, ignoring his sad huff at the mess you’ve made. Instead, you grab him by the collar of that pink button-up he taunted you with all night. “You were fucking incredible and I think incredible men deserve to have their dick sucked.”
Jungkook laughs at your vulgar statement, holding you gently by the hips as you climb into his lap. “Is that so?” The soft, shy persona is gone now, replaced by the gentle stirring beneath his dress pants. You nod hurriedly, plopping down on his lap and running your hands through his styled hair.
“Yes,” you confirm, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Luckily for you, I know this nymphomaniac who would gladly gobble up your cock at your every command.”
He snorts just as you push him into his back, nose adorably scrunched up. “First of all, you know I hate that word,” he chuckles, finally gracing you with a sweet peck that only makes you want him to fuck you into the fifth dimension. “Secondly, please don’t ever say you’ll gobble my cock up ever again.”
Something inside of you squeals with excitement as he rolls the two of you over, firm body pressing down on yours. “Oh, baby,” you groan, lazily throwing a leg over his hip. Jungkook grins and then decides to entertain you for a few minutes with a sloppy kiss.
You say a few minutes because just as things are heating up, he pulls away. He smiles apologetically. “As much as I’d love to be here with you, I actually have an early morning tomorrow.”
You frown at the sudden change in events. “Huh? They’re gonna make you work the morning after a Gatsby party?” you gasp, sitting up as he gets off of you. With every step he takes away from the bed your heart breaks a little more. “They can’t do that— that’s illegal!”
From the doorway he levels you with a comically raised brow. “No, it’s not.”
You scamper after him down the hall, watch the muscles in his back flex as he pulls his suit jacket on. “You can’t work on our anniversary— that’s illegal!” you offer instead.
He stops at your front door, feet squeezed back into his shoes. “Baby, it’s not,” he rolls his eyes, leaning down to peck your forehead. “It was either I work in the morning or work at night,” he explains, giving your messy hair a soothing caress. He’s looking at you with those eyes, the ones that make your heart lodge itself into your throat and make life a tightrope experience. There’s a devastatingly lovesick part of you that wants this moment, this kind face, to be engraved into your mind for the rest of your life. You want this to be the first and last thought you have and nothing else: just Jungkook’s adoring gaze on you for the rest of time.
The moment ends too soon when he flutters one last peck against your lips. “I’ll be done in the afternoon, okay?”
You pout. “Okay, your place?” you huff, making sure to get one last octopus squeeze around his waist. He nods. “Promise you won’t be late?”
The corners of his gaze soften. “You know I won’t,” he smiles, leaning down to bump your noses together playfully. “Can’t stay away from my pretty girl too long. Besides, I have a gift for you tomorrow.”
It’s with that sentiment and a hammering heart that you let him go. With Jungkook gone, there’s really nothing for you to do now. You took the next two days off in preparation for your anniversary sex, so you don’t have to head to sleep early like usual.
With nothing else planned, you decide on rewatching that Zootopia movie that had plagued you all night, ready to dissect every plot hole to hell and back. You don’t think Jungkook’s seen this movie yet so you add it to your long list of animated movies you’re forcing him to watch.
Part of you is actually really surprised Jungkook left. Well, kinda sorta, very, but not really. Jungkook was a good boy, that much was obvious. He took his job seriously, and if his job wanted him to come in at the asscrack of dawn, then he’d come in before the sun even rose. He was a goody-two-shoes, but even so, you were occasionally able to bring out that darker side in him.
Jungkook working, like actually working in an office setting, was pretty rare though. The dude had a chill job that let him stay home most of the time, and essentially clock in whenever he wanted. Every now and then you were able to convince him to stay, tucking him beneath your body or the covers, depending on the night, and refusing to let him go the morning after.
Once he had eaten you out until the wee hours of the day, ravenous between your thighs, and then went to work the next morning like he hadn’t broken you. Another time you had persuaded him into watching every season of the 2017 DuckTales reboot through the night. When the alarm had rung in the middle of the season finale, he had simply gotten into your shower and gone off to work.
So maybe you were a little confident in your skills, and Jungkook slipping between your fingers tonight was a huge bummer. But there was no use crying over spilled milk, you tell yourself, flinging your bra off somewhere in the corner as you snuggle back into your sheets. You’re ready to tear this Zootopia movie apart, scene by scene.
Even though your apartment is a little cold, you’re comforted by the fact Jungkook will be here to keep you warm all day tomorrow.
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All men do is lie.
Despite his promise to come home early the next day, Jungkook ends up lying. The meeting he had been in all morning— the same one that had stopped you from getting bent like a pretzel the night before —drags on well past noon. Then, Kim Namjoon, AKA Jungkook’s favorite senpai in the entire world, catches wind of Jungkook’s success last night and absolutely has to take him out to lunch to celebrate.
You scoff, glaring down at your phone and the impulsive messages you’d sent out an hour ago when Jungkook had first texted you telling you he would be late.
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You whirl around to stomp off in the direction of his living room, where all of yours and Jungkook’s favorite foods were growing colder by the minute. You had spent the longest time carefully laying them out, making sure the fried chicken was closer than the pizza but not closer than the breadsticks. Truthfully it’s a nightmare. There are about eight stomach aches worth of food sitting on his coffee table, the greasy stench makes you gag and will certainly stick to your hair for weeks, but none of that mattered because it was all for your beau.
Your very late beau who was making you grow more and more agitated with each minute that passed. Ugh! How inconsiderate of him to test your patience on a day like this. You didn’t want to be upset with him, but this was your first, real milestone as a couple with him. You had wanted to spend the whole day cuddled up, maybe finally tell him how much he really meant to you— definitely not waking up alone with eyeliner crusted eyes and an aching heart.
Deciding you’re being a little too dramatic, you head into the bedroom to calm down. This was fine, you tell yourself, carefully laying out the damn near harlotrous lingerie you had yet to put on. Jungkook would come over soon and everything would be A-okay.
Except for the part it’s actually F-not okay because soon it’s nearing sunset and the food has gone cold so you’ve stocked it into the fridge, and the pretty sheer bra has a wonky wire that’s two seconds away from piercing through your heart, but that doesn’t even matter because Jungkook being late for your all-day anniversary celebration has already ripped it to shreds anyway.  
You plop down on the couch in defeat, impulsively opening up the Disney+ app to cry through another episode of Phineas and Ferb. You’ve abandoned the satin robe that came with the lingerie in favor of donning a big t-shirt that smells like him and makes your heart hurt even more. The setting sun paints the living room in muted oranges, the chirping of birds outside the soundtrack to your lonely day.
You end up watching some other cartoon on Disney+, avoiding the Marvel section because you had promised Jungkook he could be there when you lost your Marvel virginity. Well, at least one of you was good at keeping promises, you think bitterly. For a second, you think about randomly watching one of the infamous MCU films out of order just to spite him. But then you think of that soft puppy gaze and how disappointed he’d be in you.
Whatever! It wouldn’t ever match up to the way you felt now.
Anyway, you circle back. When you’re five episodes into Phineas and Ferb you hear the doorknob rattle.
You sit up just as the door swings open, visible from your spot on the couch. He meets your gaze almost immediately, big doe eyes caught in the act. What act? You’re not really sure. In fact, you don’t even know what you’re looking at when he walks in because he’s drowning in shopping bags. His lips twist into a grin. “Honey, I’m home,” he says playfully.
You don’t laugh.
Jungkook frowns, dumping all his bags down at the entrance before waddling over towards you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, coming to stand before you and cupping your face in his hands. He’s towering over you, so tall and gorgeous but for the first time, you’re not dazed by his beauty.
“Kook, you said you’d be back hours ago,” you say slowly, avoiding his gaze. You try to keep the frustration out of your voice, but you’ve had hours to dwell on it now, and those annoying cartoon characters, though charming at first, had only served to multiply your annoyance.  
Jungkook blinks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean… yeah. But I got you presents?” he beams, glancing back at the mountainous pile he made by the door. You look over too. There are some luxury bags squeezed in between other shops you like, the occasional jewelers' logo on the side.
You stand with a sigh, sauntering off into the kitchen with him on your tail. “I don’t want presents,” you mumble, reaching to pour yourself a glass of water. You’re briefly aware of how childish you must seem. Jungkook hovers behind you.
“What? Yes, you do,” he says. “You had an entire wishlist on my Amazon of things you wanted.” It’s his turn to level you with an unreadable expression, slowly crossing his arms over his chest.
Your frown only deepens as you turn to match his stance against the counter. While it may be true that you did indeed have an entire list of impulsive items on his Amazon, that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted them all. Sometimes you just wanted to stare longingly at a pair of satin gloves without actually buying them. You don’t know how to explain this much to him. “They’re not…” you stop with another deep breath. “Forget it. Thank you for the presents.”
Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to question you. “What,” he says in an unimpressed tone, padding over to you before you can escape back into the living room to watch the entire princess movie collection on Disney+. “No, tell me what’s wrong.”
For some reason, that’s exactly what you don’t want to hear. “Jungkook,” you say flatly, narrowing your eyes at him. “You come home six hours after you said you would without telling me why, and normally I wouldn’t care, but today was supposed to be a special day for us.”
Jungkook reels at your bluntness. “Babe, I was out getting stuff for you. I know it’s our anniversary— that’s why I wanted to treat you,” he responds, oddly condescendingly like you’re a child who doesn’t understand what exactly he was doing.
You brush his hands away from your shoulders. “Yeah,” you huff. “Now I know that. But I spent all day waiting for you,” you stress, chest puffing as you grow more and more agitated by his inability to understand you. God, can he let you go now? At least a bunch of animated, geometrically drawn cartoons won’t question you like this and make you feel as childish as he was.
When he doesn’t say anything else you stomp back into the living room, snatching up your phone from its forgotten spot against the couch. “I’m going to bed.”
At that Jungkook seems to kickstart back to life. “What? ___, it’s barely six,” he says as he follows after you into your bedroom. You ignore him, shuffling beneath the covers. In all actuality, you’re going to bed to mope and watch more animated family shows, maybe cry under the guise of the plot just being so sad. Jungkook sits beside you just as you click back on to finish off your episode. “Baby, I don’t get it,” he sighs. “You’re always talking about how much you want this or that, and I go out and get you it all but now you’re mad?”
You bite down on your lip, eyes lasered in on the pictures moving before you. “Jungkook, just forget it.”
“No,” he says, more sternly than he’s ever been with you before. “If there’s a problem, tell me.” There’s a heavy pause, and then he says, “don’t make me waste my time guessing what’s wrong, okay?” 
“Waste your time?” you scoff, sitting up with pinched brows that you find match his. “I’m not trying to waste anyone’s time— in fact, that’s hot coming from you, Jungkook.”
He rolls his eyes. “What are you even saying? You’re mad because I took a little long getting presents, for you, might I add,” he huffs, plopping down on the edge of the mattress beside your knee. “You’re always saying you want this and that, but you can’t handle me going out to get those things? Do you hear how weird you sound?”
You whip the covers off of you. “Me talking about things doesn’t always mean I want them,” you defend.
Jungkook snorts. “Yes, it does,” he says. “Anytime you ramble about stuff for minutes like a little kid it’s because you want me to buy it for you.”
You blink. “Like a little kid?” you repeat, stunned by his comparison. Granted, you always knew you were the more childish of the two, but you never thought that would equate Jungkook thinking of you as a child. Something red and nasty flares in your chest. “Well sorry,” you spit, crossing your arms over your chest defensively, “sorry we all can’t be perfectly mature golden boys who would never see the light of day if I constantly wasn’t dragging them out.” You know it’s a somewhat low blow, especially because Jungkook’s told you before how his introverted tendencies were a sensitive issue growing up, but you can’t help it.
Jungkook groans, dropping his head into his hands. “Baby, don’t do this now,” he warns, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Stop acting like this.”
“Like how?” you spit, “like a kid?” Jungkook says nothing, leveling you with a blank stare from the corner of his eye. You roll your eyes, phone falling off your lap. Another episode of Phineas and Ferb had started, the corny opening tune filling the space between the two of you. “At least now I know what you think of me,” you mutter over the guitar riff.
“Oh my god,” Jungkook blurts, sitting up wildly. “Of course I’m gonna think of you as a stupid little kid, look at you,” he seethes, gesturing at the phone beside you. You flinch. “All you do is watch kids shows and whine whenever I wanna watch anything normal adults watch. You complain every single day about the most normal things, like your job? Why should I fucking care that you’re working a dead-end office job in a field you didn’t even study for— that’s not my problem, __!” he snaps, eyes narrowed into little slits. “I just won an award last night,” he says suddenly, voice back to its regular volume. “I’m at the height of my career and I’m only going up, but I can’t even enjoy that because I have to come home and cater to you,” he finishes, a loud scoff punctuating the final word.
You had never imagined Jungkook finally bragging about himself would be at your expense.
A beat of silence passes, the angry glint in his eyes quickly fading away the longer you don’t say anything. You sniff once, turning your head idly to the side where Phineas and Ferb is still blaring loudly from your phone speaker. Picking up the device, you throw it across the room where it hits his closet door with a terrifying bang the breaks the silence.
The sound snaps Jungkook out of whatever shock he’d been in. “Baby…” he says slowly, carefully, like you’re a caged animal that’s just escaped the zoo.
“I’m going home,” you say, also a little too calmly. You saunter over towards his closet where your shattered phone screen glares up at you as you yank a pair of sweats off a hanger. Jungkook is still frozen on the edge of the bed, watching you with wide eyes as you move about the room.
It’s when you’re in the hallway leading downstairs that Jungkook finally snaps out of his daze, scampering behind you as you descend the stairs. “Baby,” he rushes out, loudly bounding down after you, “___, wait,” he gasps, catching you by the kitchen counter collecting your keys. “I-I didn't mean that,” he rushes out, eyes wide and frantic as they flicker over your expression. “I don’t think that—I don’t, baby, please, just… let me explain, please.”
“Jungkook, let go of me,” you respond, shaking your wrist in an attempt to release yourself. He’s not even holding you tightly— he never would—but the sound of your heart pounding in your ears makes your movements jerky and erratic. “I wanna go home.”
“No,” he chokes, cornering you against the counter. “No, baby, please just listen to me, I-I—“
“You what, Jungkook?” you snap, placing a hand on his chest and forcefully pushing him away. He lets you, stepping back with a wobbly bottom lip. “You need to tell me how you’re too good for me? How much I hold you down because I wasn’t lucky enough to get a job like yours straight out of college?” He says nothing, swallowing roughly as you jab a finger into his chest. “Well let me tell you something,” you snarl, chest heaving, “I may be childish and a huge complainer, but I’m not stupid enough to let someone walk all over me like this.”
With that, you make your great escape. Truthfully, you don’t want him to see the tears in your eyes as you yank his door open, stomping down his steps and in the direction of the nearest bus stop. The door opens right after you tug it shut, painting your shadow across the sidewalk. There’s the scrambled sound of house slippers against the concrete that follows you down. “Go the fuck back inside,” you snap without missing a beat.
Sensing your obvious anger, he pauses before he can reach you. “Text me when you get home?” he calls out quietly.
“No,” you respond.
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You would never admit to anyone that you spend the entire night eating a tub of mint chocolate ice cream. It’s disgusting and makes you gag, but it’s the only one you have in your apartment. And of course, it was brought over by none other than Jeon Jungkook himself a few days ago. Even when you’re trying to comfort yourself over how mean he was, on your anniversary night no less, you’re plagued by thoughts of him everywhere.
As much as you want to brush his words off, put on that cool girl exterior you’ve maintained since high school, there’s something different about this situation. You guess it’s impossible to brush off such hateful words when they come from someone you love and adore so much.
Were you too childish? You had always believed that side of you was what made your relationship with Jungkook so perfect. The two of you meshed well because of your differences, like yin and yang. So how had he been able to so easily deconstruct every inch of that balance in a matter of a few seconds? Was this perfect reality all in your head this whole time?
You want to tell yourself it was just a heat of the moment outburst from Jungkook, give him the benefit of the doubt because he’s never snapped at you like this before. Of course you’ve fought a couple of times in the past year, but neither of you had ever stooped as low as you did yesterday. Furthermore, the insecure part of your brain says he obviously felt this somewhere in his heart to bring it up at all. What he had said to you wasn’t something someone could make up on the spot.
You don’t text him when you get home, partly to spite him, but mainly because you had left your phone at his place anyway. You know he tried calling you last night because the call log is synced up to your laptop. He called on and off for about thirty minutes before he probably found your phone in his room. Whatever, he can mope in his regret for all you care
—is what you wanna say, but the longer he goes without showing himself to you the more your insecurities and hurt fester. Was this it? Was this the end of what was probably the best year of your life? It’s too painful to think about, to even consider the possibility that Jungkook might have gained a new insight last night and decided, hey, maybe this is for the best after all.
You drown yourself in an ungodly amount of sugar for breakfast, your laptop blaring yet another episode of Phineas and Ferb on the dining table. Muscle memory has you making Jungkook’s favorite pancakes before you can stop yourself, and by the time you do realize, you’ve resigned yourself to the blueberry smell anyway.
There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb.
It’s not.
It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door. You open the door with a fright, jumping back when he slumps forward and almost crashes face-first into the floor. “You didn’t call,” Jungkook cries, leaning a little too much of his weight onto you when you reach out to steady him.
The thundering of your heart slows upon registering it’s him. “Kook?” you frown, nose pinched at the ungodly stench of alcohol wafting off his clothes. “Have you been drinking?” you ask even though the answer is staring you right in the face (and in the nose).
He groans, staggering deeper into your arms. You blindly push the door shut behind him, resigning yourself to this new situation while your pancakes grow cold in the other room. “Baaaby,” he slurs, letting you guide him into the living space. He’s unceremoniously dumped onto the couch, half-opened eyes gazing up at you. “Let me,” a hiccup, “explain.”
You won’t lie. There’s a very obvious sense of discomfort sitting in your chest, torn between two paths that you don’t wish to choose between. His skin is warm and flushed like he’s just walked all the way here in this morning sun. You step over to the window that faces down onto the street below. There’s no sign of his car; you would have killed him if he ever tried to drive in this state.
“Did you walk here?” you ask instead, deciding there’s no need for one singular path, not when you can walk straight down the middle, both cleaning him and grilling him at the same time.
Jungkook’s response is delayed, head lolling from side to side as you help him out of his sweater. His skin is sweaty beneath, scorching to the touch. “Uh-huh,” he groans. Jesus, you sort of assumed but him confirming it really set things into perspective.
By no means did you and Jungkook live on opposite ends of the earth. On a good day, a drive from your place to his took about ten minutes. But walking? Easily an hour. Had he walked all the way from his place, drunk on top of that?
You brush his hair away from his face, his eyes fluttering shut at your touch. His lips are pouty yet chapped, dehydrated from the sun and the alcohol he reeks of. “Sit up for me,” you instruct, scampering off to your room for chapstick and water.
“Anything for you,” Jungkook wheezes, throat probably dryer than a desert. When you return, he’s two seconds from face planting into the coffee table and breaking that pretty face of his. You catch him with a hand on his shoulder, keeping him balanced. “Tell me what to do,” he chokes out, voice hoarse.
“Just need you to drink some water,” you say, pressing a cup against his lips. He drinks it, but a drop still dribbles down his chin.
“No,” he groans, catching your wrist in his hand when you reach up to apply some chapstick on him. “Tell me what to do,” he stresses, “to fix this. Fix us.”
His words make you pause, the tube of chapstick hovering over his plush lips. “You don’t have to do anything,” you respond quietly, trying to finish the application so you can pull away.
Jungkook doesn’t let you go. You try to look away, but there’s something about him that looks off. Maybe it’s the raw skin under his eyes, red and swollen. Or the sad droop to those same eyes that hold you captive. Or maybe it’s the subtle tremble in his hands, the fingers that hold tightly to your wrist, not to keep you there but to ground himself. “I don’t wanna lose you,” he rasps out, shakily bringing your hand to his mouth, where he presses one airy kiss to your knuckles. “Tell me ho-how to fix this and I’ll do it,” he pleads, a vulnerable look in his eyes.
Unable to withstand the sheer amount of agony on his expression, you look away. “___, please,” he chokes out, stumbling off the couch in his drunk and desperate haze until he’s kneeling in front of you. “I can’t… I can’t,” he sniffles, tears clouding those pretty eyes you’ve come to love so much. “I don’t know who I am without you.”
You clench your jaw. “You’re Jeon Jungkook,” you murmur, slipping your hand out of his hold to run through his hair. It’s knotted and a little too greasy, two things Jungkook would usually never allow. “This year’s Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award recipient,” you remind him, trailing your thumb across his cheekbone when he turns to look up at you with those big Bambi eyes. “Sweet and shy, but you love being rowdy with your friends. You love movies and TV and organizing your shirts according to fabric type. You work harder than anyone I know and never complain. You date me, even though I’m a huge child,” you smile sadly.
“No!” he jumps, turning that frantic stare back into you. “Y-You’re not— it’s not,” he stammers, words still slurring together. “I’m a liar,” he cries, resting his forehead on your knees. His shoulders shake. “I don’t deserve you,” he weeps quietly. You place a hand on his shoulder. “Y-Y-You make my life so much better, ___, so colorful and fun. I-I wish I knew you in high school,” he admits, “maybe I wouldn’t have been so emotionally constipated now.”
“You’re not,” you reassure him softly.
He disagrees. “You bring out the best,” he hiccups, “the best in me.” Your heart skips in your chest. “I-I love you, you know that?”
You sputter, eyes wide at his sudden confession. “I… love you so much, y’know? I think about you ev-every night, ___,” he rambles, eyes dreamily gazing off into some miscellaneous spot on the wall behind you. “I can’t get you out of my head. Like you're a song, o-on repeat but it’s not annoying because it’s my favorite song, and I could listen to it for the rest of my life, y’know? My favorite song, I know all the words b-because it’s all I think about! I love... My love… I love you so much.”
“Kook,” you rush out, cheeks flaming as you try to pull him away from where he’s slumped over your legs. His passionate speech has you abuzz, body tingling everywhere until you feel overwhelmed, head spinning like you’re on a rollercoaster. “Let’s get you to bed.”
He nods sleepily, seemingly coming down from whatever alcohol induced rampage has allowed him to walk for an hour straight in this searing heat just to confess to you. “Y-You don’t have to say it back,” he continues to stutter as you guide him through the living room on wobbly legs. “I just-I just— can I?” he babbles. “Can I love you, ___?”
You pass through the kitchen space, where whatever you were watching on Disney+ is blaring loudly. It distracts Jungkook for about two seconds before his attention returns to you. When you don’t answer, he presses on. “Is that okay?” he asks, whirling around to face you, catching your shoulders in his hands. He towers over you by the entrance to your bedroom, dark curls tickling your forehead. His eyes are dark and glazed over, both in tears and an emotion so raw and unfiltered it squeezes around your chest until you can’t breathe. “Is it okay for me to love you?” he murmurs softly, knocking his nose against yours.
Your cheeks blaze. “Yes, th-that’s fine, Kook,” you blubber, placing a hand over his chest, where his heart is also hammering away. “Just need you to go rest now, okay?”
He nods sleepily, nudging your nose with his one last time, like a soft almost-kiss, before letting you push him into the room. “Yes, yes,” he breathes, his body finally crashing from his adrenaline spike. He flops down onto the bed unceremoniously, dark waves fanning across your pillows. You try to wiggle him out of his shirt, but it only gets about halfway up his chest before he blindly reaches for the covers. His legs stick out awkwardly, clad in the sweatpants you’ve come to associate with him.
When he’s all swaddled up in your blanket he finally goes limp, tiny snores leaving his lips as he dozes away from reality. You sigh, pressing a palm to his forehead. He’s still warm and clammy, but at this point, there’s nothing you can do but wait for him to sober up.
With a final kiss to his forehead, you leave the room, closing the door behind you before sliding against the wooden surface. There’s a trapped bird in your chest, wildly flapping its wings in an effort to get out, and it’s all stupid Jungkook’s fault in the next room. Stupid Jungkook who demolished and remodeled your heart all in less than twenty-four hours. It doesn’t calm down, even when you rush off into the kitchen for a glass of water, or when you try to immerse yourself in some other show on Disney+. It stays beating against your ribs and your chest until you’re forcing yourself to sit down on the couch and process.
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He wakes up a little before dinner. You hear him from the living room, where you’re flicking through the options on Disney+ for the nth time that day. You’ve seen the first fifteen minutes of about twenty different series and movies by now, always growing antsy and abandoning them early on. The only reason you know he’s awake is because the shower turns on for a few minutes, and then his bare feet are heard padding across the hallway back into your room.
By the time he resurfaces in the living room, you’ve resigned yourself to just more Phineas and Ferb, nonchalantly watching the silly cartoon. (Except you’re anything but nonchalant, and your heartbeat rings in your ears.)
Jungkook hovers by the door, clad in a pair of shorts he’s left here before, and a t-shirt you stole from him. “Hey,” he says quietly, lingering by the doorframe. You nod back in response. “Can I watch with you?” Again, another nod.  
Slinking over to the couch, he’s rather careful as he sits down, leaving a few inches of space between the two of you. You don’t even think he can see the screen of your laptop until he murmurs, “he’s my favorite character,” when Perry the Platypus appears on the screen.
You hum. “Thought you didn’t like these kids shows?” you ask. You don’t mean it to sound as petty and backhanded as it comes out, but that’s really no one's fault but his own.
Jungkook’s breathing tightens beside you. “No,” he admits, “I don’t. Only watch them because I know you like them.” You contemplate pausing the episode and engaging in a real conversation with him, but at this point, you’re very tired from the events of the last day. Jungkook doesn’t press either, just shuffles more comfortably beside you.
You get about five minutes in, quiet chuckles shared between the two of you, before he strikes. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says, so hushed you almost don’t hear it. His hand is resting in the space between you, pinky brushing against yours. “About… being late. And the presents.”
You inspire slowly. “That wasn't even the problem, silly,” you brush off. From your peripheral, you see Jungkook’s slow nod. “I didn’t want any presents,” you mention, “I just wanted you.” You look away from the screen immediately after, pretending like the spot on the ceiling is actually really interesting.
The two of you fall into silence, the animated characters on your screen rapidly chattering away. “Oh,” Jungkook says after a moment.
You roll your eyes. They’re moist but you don’t want him to see. “Yeah, oh,” you parrot back softly, relaxing into the couch again. “Did you eat the food I left out?”
Jungkook shuffles beside you, the soft lull of the speakers soon being cut as he reaches over to pause Phineas and Ferb. A couple of seconds pass and then he’s leaning into you, head resting on your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, placing a palm over the hand he had been teasing for the past few minutes. “I thought I knew what I was doing but I was wrong.”
His voice is so soft and sincere, it makes your chest ache. You try to burrow your face against your opposite shoulder, try to hide the stray tear that escapes out of the corner of your eye. “It’s fine,” you brush off, voice choked off and hoarse.
Jungkook leans up, pecks your cheek so tenderly it makes you go mushy. “No, it’s not fine. I acted like a know-it-all and said something way out of line,” he murmurs, raising his head to look at you. His hand feels warm over yours. It’s the touch you craved all day and yesterday, the warm feel of his body against yours. You’re embarrassed at how easily you melt into it. “You’re the best thing that has happened to me in a long time,” he tells you, holding your hand close to his chest. “I had no right to say those things to you.”
You sniffle, resting your head against his shoulder now. His heart beats loud enough for you to hear. “Was it true?” you mumble. “Do you really think of me like that?”
He shakes his head, his soft breaths fanning across your forehead. “No, never,” he answers. “I think you’re incredible. My brain was just trying to justify my dumb anger.”
You nod, even if you don’t believe it just yet. But that was a conversation for later, you suppose, sometime in the future when you aren’t on the verge of tears and threatening to crumble apart at the simplest word that leaves his mouth.
“I should have come home like you wanted, thought about my words before saying them,” he says, snuggling closer to you. “I’m sorry.”
“Stop,” you sniffle, covering your face with your free hand as he presses a kiss to the vein that runs over the back of the hand he’s holding captive. “Now it just sounds like I'm just being inconsiderate of your gifts and a crybaby.”
Jungkook kisses your temple softly, gently. “Don’t think about the gifts,” he says. “Just tell me what you wanted to do, doll.”
His voice calms you, has you like putty in his arms. “Watch movies,” you mumble, toying with a thread on your couch cushion. “Be with you.”
He hums. “Then we’ll do that,” he says, reaching for your laptop again. The screen nearly blinds you when it flickers back to life before you, Jungkook’s low breaths against your ear making it near impossible for you to process the titles on the screen. “You liked Disney+?”
Belatedly, you nod. “I like the animated movies,” you admit quietly, the anxieties of before slowly melting away, even more so when he slides his arm around you, pulling you close against his chest.
Unlike other times where he’ll critique the hell out of such childish films, Jungkook says nothing as he starts up the Zootopia movie instead, the same one you had wanted to show him before, right from the beginning. “That bunny looks like you,” you murmur when Judy Hopps first appears on the screen.
Jungkook snorts. “You say that about every cartoon bunny.”
You turn your head to glance at him over your shoulder. He meets your gaze with a small smile you return. “It’s because you’re so cute,” you say softly, lips twisting playfully when his cheeks grow scarlet.
He knocks his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut. “Not cute, just lucky,” he chuckles. “Lucky enough to have you.” Your heart turns over in your chest, threatening to burst out of your rib cage at his words. You try to turn in his arms. Before you can say the words that have been sitting on the tip of your tongue for months now, he’s beating you to it once again. “I love you,” he confesses in a hushed whisper, no alcoholic influence. 
Something inside of you blossoms, eyes wide as he chastely kisses you. He pulls away without you ever reacting, too caught up in surprise to kiss him back properly. He stays close, curls tickling your forehead as he leans over you. “You don’t have to say it back, I just wanted you to know. I love you,” he says again, long lashes blinking down at you. “So much. It makes me feel like a stupid teenager again, going to the mall to buy a gift for my crush.” He laughs sheepishly, reaching down to tangle your fingers together. “Is that okay?” he asks quietly, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.
It mirrors the confession he’d given you that morning, those slurred words and teary eyes. It had been difficult to pinpoint the legitimacy of it before, the meaning scrambled by his hazy mind. But with him staring at you like this now, like you single-handedly plucked the stars from the sky to put them in those sparkly eyes of his, it makes something inside you ache.
Still, you choke on your own spit. “I-Is it okay for you to love me?” you sputter incredulously, realizing the oddity of the same question he’d thrown at you earlier. But now, you’re both sober and you can really tear apart that sentence. Jungkook nods a little too seriously for your liking. “Are you crazy?” He blinks in confusion, brows pulling together as you slowly but surely lose the last bits of your sanity. “You’re an idiot, Jeon Jungkook,” you huff, “a stupidly handsome, rich, walking dream, idiot who goes out with stupid girls like me.”
“Not stupid,” he murmurs, closing in on you again as he finally understands the truth behind your masked insults. He smells minty and like his favorite body wash of yours.
“No,” you deny. “You’re actually, like, insane. You have a bachelor pad, make enough money to sustain an entire litter of kittens, look and talk like every teenage girl’s dream boyfriend— but you mess it all up by dating evil, conniving hoes like me who lose their shit over Disney cartoons.” He says nothing, watching you with an amused grin as you talk over yourself, basically regurgitating his statement from yesterday except it kinda seems plausible now that you’re over it. “It’s stupid. No, you’re stupid. No— I’m stupid.”
Jungkook chuckles, kissing the corner of your mouth gently. “Done?” he says, a dimple appearing on his cheek. You could kiss it away, but you need him to know the amount of stupidity in this room was astronomically high. “You’re not stupid, baby,” he says. You level him with a look. “Well. You have your moments.”
“Moments?” you repeat, standing up in a hurry that has him flopping down beside you. Your laptop is lost somewhere on the cushions, the voices faded as they grow farther away. “I am so stupid. I called Namjoon a whore for taking you out for lunch!” you cry. “I am the stupidest person in the world.”
Jungkook cackles, standing up beside you. “Yes, yes, you’re my stupid girl,” he teases, tapping the pout on your lips playfully. “So stupid she slanders herself instead of just telling me she loves me too.” He bumps your noses together, dark eyes staring at you almost daringly after his claim.
You fold soon enough. “I love you,” you mumble, “even if I’m too stupid to say it.”
He rewards your confession with a kiss, pulling you into his arms soon after. He sighs, almost wistfully. “Whatever shall I do with my very stupid girl?”
After exactly three minutes of feeling safe and loved in his arms, he abandons the living room in favor of leading you back to your room, where he pushes you down against your mattress. You cling to him, leaving him positioned over you at an angle. His chest presses against yours, arm curled around the back of your head. “Gotta get up, baby,” he laughs.
You shake your head, caging him in your arms. “Nuh-uh,” you murmur, legs wiggling when he places a hand on your hip.
Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss against the side of your ear. “Your movie is still playing in the other room,” he reminds you, thumb drawing soothing circles on your hip. You don’t release him, his mindless touch only encouraging you to keep him close. “Babe?”
You say nothing, relishing in the comfort of Jungkook’s presence. His hair smells good and feels even softer against the side of your face. The cotton shirt he found is crumpled beneath your fists, dark blue pattern wrinkling. Finally coming to terms with his new home, Jungkook eventually relaxes into your hold with a sigh.
“Alright,” he hums, patting your hip as he repositions himself more comfortably. “I get it. My pretty girl must’ve missed me, huh?” You nod, soaking in every detail about him in this moment. Jungkook shifts, the hand on your hip suddenly falling over your thigh instead. “Or should I say my stupid girl?” he purrs, hand slipping between your thighs. “My stupid, little girl?”
A gasp catches in your throat when he runs his fingers over the front of your panties. Your legs kick out wildly at the sudden touch, toes curling at the hands you dreamt about all day and night. “Oh,” you pant, each brush of his fingers feeling better than the last.
“What?” he says, mouthing against the side of your neck. His tongue feels warm, but the trails of saliva he leaves have you shivering. “Too dumb to speak?” he scoffs, biting down against a particular spot on your neck. You whimper, unsure if it’s because of his hands or his mouth.
“N-No,” you try to sneer back, fingernails digging into his skin through his shirt. His hands are getting braver now, the pad of his pointer finger dancing over your engorged clit. The sheer material of your panties certainly doesn’t help, each touch feeling like it’s being magnified three times over. And if it felt this good with underwear, you can’t even begin to imagine how it’d feel without.
You don’t have to ponder for long, because soon after Jungkook is slipping his hand beneath your waistband, touching your sensitive pussy head-on. “Kook.”
He uses your momentary vulnerability to ease himself from your hold, finally recoiling enough to smother your mouth with his. You moan in surprise, thighs quivering as he gets to work circling your hardened bud sans your panties. Jungkook isn’t the least bit kind as he kisses you ruthlessly, likes he’s trying to compensate for something with his movements. When he finally pulls away it’s with an obnoxious pop and cherry red lips. He huffs, glancing down to see where he’s got his fingers pleasuring you.
Your thighs are squirming back and forth, closing around his hand every few seconds. Jungkook snorts. “Huh, look at that,” he mutters, trailing down until his fingers are gliding over your quickly sopping folds. “Stupid girl is good for something.”
Your cheeks burn. “Kook, I’m not—“
Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed glare. “Not what? Not stupid? But I could’ve sworn you just spent the last few minutes saying you were,” he drones meanly, landing one light slap against your cunt that makes your hips buck.
You bite down a whimper. “I was just…” you trail off, eyes rolling back when he teases one finger against your opening.
“Kidding?” he supplies. “Well, I wasn’t.” Your heart stutters in your chest, eyes growing wide as he finally pushes himself off of you, propping himself up with an elbow beside your head. His gaze is dark and unrecognizable. “I think you’re so fucking stupid, doll,” he sneers. “And what are you gonna do about it?”
You should have seen this moment coming, the manifestation of that shiny side of the coin finally reaching its full potential.
While Jungkook wasn’t exactly shy about his interests, he certainly wasn’t tripping over himself to tell you every new kinky thing he wanted to try. You sort of guessed he had some interest in this sort of play a few weeks ago when you watched the Barbie movie at his place. A lot of that night had branded itself into your three am wet dreams, but there was one particular moment that stood out to you. That was you, on your knees, with him condescendingly patting your head. Or just last week, you vaguely remember the term slipping through his lips as he pleasured you with The Bullet Bestie.
The thing about Jungkook was that, until last night, he would have never admitted, or so much as even thought, that he was better than you. That was fine because you would say it enough for the both of you anyway. Did you think Jungkook was amazing, an absolute diamond among these measly rocks? Absolutely. (Were you slightly biased because you were his girlfriend? Skip.) However, you also had this insane evil villain complex that made you want to brag about everything you possibly could, especially if that meant bragging about your boyfriend.
Realistically speaking, he was better than you, that much you could look past yesterday’s anger to admit, and not even in a stuck-up, conceited way; he had a really good job, an architecturally amazing house, and a hot girlfriend. Meanwhile, you had a mediocre job, an okay apartment, and an insanely sexy Calvin Klein boyfriend, half of which he had pointed out yesterday. Regardless of how powerful that third factor was, he still outnumbered you three to one.
Sue you, Jungkook was amazing. Anyone could see that! Except, maybe, himself.
And if the only time Jungkook would openly brag about his greatness or establish how much better than you he was, was in a post-fight, sex-induced setting, then you were more than happy to be his punching bag. So long as it was on your terms, and not as a result of his weirdly bottled up feelings.
(Yeah, you would have a long talk about that tomorrow.)
But for now, you pout up at him, clamping your thighs shut purposefully. “You’re stupid too,” you defend, “stupid and mean.”
Something in his expression changes. Suddenly, he’s moving at superhuman speed as he snatches his hand out from where you had previously trapped him between your legs, yanking you up by the front of your shirt. “Mean?” he mocks. “Isn’t that what you always wanted?” You shiver, fingers wrapping around the wrist that holds your sweater. “Wanted me to be mean and push you around like a little rag doll?”
Jungkook looks at you for another two seconds, before he’s slowly pulling away from you, leaning back on his knees. His tongue is pressing against the inside of his cheek, jaw tightening from the movement. “Baby,” he says so quietly it instills a prickle of fear in you, tainted with delicious excitement.
“Yeah?” you whisper, sitting up tentatively as you watch him, He was a bit frightening, like a wild animal about to devour you whole.
Jungkook rolls his neck, the joints in his spine cracking as he begins tugging off his shirt. You salivate at the sight, too focused on the sinewy muscles of his body to catch the dark gaze he levels your way. He throws it off to the side, his sleeve of tattoos that wraps around his bicep and begins to crawl down his chest wonderfully unobstructed now. “Eyes up here,” he says and you quickly meet his gaze. He leans forward, muscled arms coming to cage you against the headboard. “Stupid little sluts don’t have the room to make such comments,” he rasps out, unamused expression adorning his normally soft features. “Don’t you think so?”
“I-I don’t know,” you stammer, leaning away as he comes closer and closer, eventually just turning your head to the side to avoid that emotionless look. It’s the wrong move, and Jungkook lets you know as much by forcefully digging his fingers into your cheeks and turning your face back around to meet his gaze.
A hand grabs beneath your knee, tugging harshly until you’re flopping down onto your back with a squeal. You settle with his knee pressed hotly against your core. Jungkook stays towering over you. “Dumb little girls who make me watch cartoons,” he spits, tracing a hand over your chest, molding your breasts beneath his hands roughly enough to make you gasp. “And watch little animal movies on Disney+. Aren’t they just so stupid?”
“So stupid,” you concede, subtly shifting your hips for some desperately needed friction. Jungkook snorts, finally granting you your wish with one rough slide of his thigh against your core.
“I agree,” he says, and surprises you with a hand around your throat as he leans in to properly grind his thigh into you. “All they’re good for is being dumb little sluts with good pussy,” he murmurs darkly, thumb pressing into the side of your neck forcefully. “Sometimes, they don’t even do anything,” Jungkook continues, his other hand on your hip hauling you higher up his thigh. You mewl, soaked panties rubbing roughly against your folds. You miss the soft swirl of his thumb, the gentle prod of his fingers. Even so, you can’t deny this change in Jungkook is doing something to you, riling up a part of you that you hadn’t known existed. Maybe it’s the horniness from yesterday that was left unfulfilled, the one year anniversary sex that was put on pause. “Just lay there and take it, too fucked out and dumb to say anything.”
His fingers loosen for the briefest of seconds and you gasp for breath. “That’s terrible,” you whimper, rolling your hips up into his thigh, so close to his swollen cock.
Jungkook chuckles without an ounce of humor, pressing your foreheads together as he helps grind you to completion. “Isn’t it? I think that stupid little girl is cute though.”
“I’m sorry,” you blurt, vision spotting as he tightens his hand back around your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you moan, stomach tight from all the stimulation.
Jungkook hums, slowing you down with a tight grip on your waist. “Hm, what are you sorry for?” he croons, pink lips pulling into an evil smile. “You said you weren’t that stupid girl, __.”
You shake your head, trying to roll your hips up again but he’s holding you too tightly now, rendering you immobile beneath him. “I am,” you choke out shamefully, grabbing at the hand on your hip in a feeble attempt to remove it. “I am a stupid little girl.”
Jungkook smirks, leaning down to slot his mouth over yours. “That’s right,” he murmurs, “nothing but a dumb little slut.”
You shiver, opening your mouth when he slides his tongue against your bottom lip. He’s not the slightest bit nice, and more messy than usual. He pulls away with a bite to your lower lip, meeting your trembling gaze with that same unrecognizable glint in his eyes. “Come on, dummy, keep up,” he snarks before devouring you again. You try to, you really do, but he’s moving like an animal today, despite his slow and drunken movements from that morning. So you end up with his saliva dripping down your throat, clinging to the corners of your lips as he begins slowly grinding you against his thigh again. He flashes you a wicked smile, pearly teeth on display for you as he glances down at your messy appearance.
“Are you gonna touch me?” you ask, lower lip trembling at the thought after your desperate rutting. Jungkook purses his lips together in thought.
“Mmm,” he hums. “Don’t know yet.”
You whine. “Jungkook, please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I need you.”
Jungkook chuckles, running his hand up your waist and taking your shirt with him. He slips his fingers beneath your bra, pushing the wire over your chest as he mouths at your neck. “Cute,” he says. “Can’t do it yourself?”
You tremble, chest arching into him as he rolls your nipple between his fingers. “I-I can,” you gasp. “Just feels better with you.”
Jungkook follows your statement with a nip against your skin, tongue soothing over it right after. “Why? Because I do everything better than you? Even make you cum better than you?”
Your cheeks heat up at his blatant ego rearing its head, hands carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. You say nothing, and that only eggs Jungkook on. “Come onnn,” he teases, finally, finally rolling his hips down onto your core. You squeak, head falling back against the pillows as you’re granted the one thing you’d been chasing. “Say it.”
“Say what?” you ask, voice wobbly as he continues to slowly rut against you, the front of his shorts pressing against the soaked crotch area of your panties. “Oh, oh, Jungkook,” you whine.
Suddenly he bites down harshly, teeth digging painfully into your skin. You yelp in surprise, pussy throbbing at the pain that shoots throughout your body. Jungkook pulls away and doesn’t bother soothing over it as he leans up to capture your jaw this time. “Say you’re a stupid little slut who can’t do anything without me,” he purrs, kisses too soft for the words he says.
Your mind blanks, torn between the humiliating phrase he wants you to say and properly checking him in his place. In the end, it’s with a twisted need to please him that you’re repeating the words back to him. “I-I’m a stupid slut,” you whimper, fingers digging into his shoulder blades as he continues pushing you right along the edge. The rope pulled tightly in your core is slowly being pulled apart, threads hanging on for dear life. “Can’t... can't do anything without...”
“Without who?” he asks, reaching down and untying the front of his shorts. “Can’t do anything without who, baby?”
“Without you, without you,” you cry, bucking your hips up against his, the combined movements of both your bodies making you shake like a leaf. “Ah, K-Kook,” you wail, hips stuttering as your orgasm finally swallows you up. Your panties quickly grow wet and icky from your own arousal that pools between your thighs. Jungkook lets you writhe beneath him as you chase your high, mouth sucking a pretty blossom against your jaw.
You know better than to expect the night to end here, especially after seeing the glint that had been in his eyes as he watched you unravel.
He leans close, let’s his nose brush against yours as you catch your breath. “So perfect for me,” he groans, slotting his lips against yours. You can barely keep up with him, languidly going along with his hot tongue. “Perfect, perfect girl,” he murmurs, a stark change from the less than friendly adjectives he used just moments before. “Tell me you love me?” he says softly.
You nod, mind fuzzy as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Love you,” you exhale, letting your fingers knot in his hair. Your proclamation does something to him, makes him grind the front of his cotton shorts hard against you. For someone that was often rough and brutal with you in bed, he sure was sensitive to the mushiest of things.
“Don’t deserve you,” he huffs, hot breath fanning across your skin. He switches gears fairly quickly. “Tell me you hate me,” he begs hoarsely, rutting against your soiled panties. “Tell me I’m a piece of shit and you could do better without me,” he pleads, voice too airy to be another one of his usual sex-induced thoughts.
You shake your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he rolls his hips. “It’s not true,” you whisper, “I love you more than you’ll ever understand.”
Jungkook groans, suddenly winding back and tearing your ruined panties down your legs. You gasp in surprise, letting him haul you about in his blind, self-inflicted rage. “Stupid, stupid,” he huffs, though at this point you can’t tell who it’s directed at. With your underwear out of the way, he wastes no time plunging his fingers back into your cunt, bypassing the tight ring of muscle around it without any of his usual care. “You should hate me,” he snarls, lips pressed against your ear.
You moan, back arching at the sudden pleasure that blossoms between your thighs. “I-I don’t,” you gasp, toes curling.
Jungkook groans, the sound traveling down your spine and straight into your pussy. “Stupid girl,” he huffs, slipping an arm around you to pull you so close until you can’t breathe, chests lined up together. His skin is warm to the touch, scorching almost. “Fuck,” he groans, curling his fingers inside of you. You whimper and moan, incapable of staying still beneath him as he tortures you with a thumb to your clit. “Tell me you hate me,” he seethes again.
Despite the fog that’s settled over your mind, you still manage a resolute shake of your head. “N-no,” you cry, digging your nails into his back. They run dark red lines over his skin, making him hiss at the sting.
Whatever punishment he’s trying to put himself through is falling through with your refusal to admit such a thing. It aggravates him even more, your adamant stance on loving him so, and he’s retracting his fingers before you can cum again. “Please,” he chokes, face tucked into your neck. He’s sloppy with his movements; as he pulls his shorts down and kicks them away, he nearly suffocates you with his weight. “I don’t deserve you, ___, please.”
“I love you,” you whimper for lack of explanation. Jungkook leans back, that same madman gaze in his glossy eyes. He’s looking at you in disbelief almost, pouty lips puckered and swollen. Your hands slip from around him, falling on either side of your head.
Like a cobra he strikes, collecting your wrists in one hand he pins above your head. The sudden movement has him leaning in close, lips brushing over yours. His lashes are coated in a wetness he refuses to acknowledge, looking at you like you drive him insane. “If you ever try to leave me,” he whispers, jerky breath fanning over your skin, “I’ll lose my mind.”
He loves you so much it aches.
“I won’t,” you whimper, feeling your own eyes well up with an emotion that consumes every inch of your being. “I’ll never leave you, you stupid, stupid boy.”
A faint smile crosses his features at your words, lips quirking to the side. You relish in it for all of two seconds before he’s ramming his cock into you, your sensitive walls spawning around him. You sob loudly, eyes rolling back into your head. Your legs instinctively hook themselves around his waist, digging into the base of his spine as he rolls his hips into you.
You feel full and complete like he belongs there in this moment and every moment after this. It makes your heart constrict painfully. Jungkook’s soft groans follow your more unraveled noises, the vulgar slapping of skin on skin the underlying melody to it all. “Ffffuck,” he spits, greedily swallowing your moans up. You whine, arms bucking in an effort to hold him close. But he’s determined in his act of restraining you, long fingers tightening around your wrists until they hurt. “I warned you, didn’t I?” he huffs, snapping his hips into you.
Your walls clench around his hard cock, the drag as he exits sending shivers throughout your body. Jungkook’s body towers over you, glistening in sweat as he nails you into your mattress. “Remember what I said?” he asks, voice but a shuddery exhale. You shake your head numbly, overwhelmed by the rough drag across your walls. “All those months ago, when you first came over,” he adds. The hand on your hip abandons its post to cup you beneath the jaw, palm pressing sinfully against your throat enough to block the tiniest of airflow. “I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he murmurs, voice deeper than the pits of hell. He licks a fat stripe over your cheek like you’re nothing but a sweet for him to devour. “Do you remember that, pretty girl?”
You nod jerkily, hips arching up into him when he thrusts into you again. It’s a memory that replays in your mind every so often, your first night with the man you had planned to humiliate over a mere misunderstanding, now your boyfriend of one year. “Want that,” you gasp, tears blurring your vision when he begins picking up the pace. “Wanna be y-your pretty girl forever.”
Jungkook groans, kissing the corner of your mouth. His thighs are some magnificent beings, keeping his pace consistent even as he loses himself in his overwhelming need to kiss you. “Always,” he manages, soft lips pressed against yours. “I won’t ever let you leave.”
A shriek tears itself from your lips as he picks up that harsh piston, releasing your jaw to hold both wrists above your head. It makes his curls dangle in front of his eyes, covering that beautiful dark gaze. It makes his thin little necklace swing back and forth too, though it’s too small to actually touch your face. The rhythmic swing has you hypnotized, just like everything else about Jungkook.
With the length of his hair, you’re left staring at his lips, pulled taut between his pearly white teeth. The word from before sits heavy in your chest, begs to drip from the tip of your tongue. But he’s moving too fast and too hard, scrambling your thoughts until all you can think about is the cock plunging into your heat. His name falls from your mouth like mindless blubber instead, arms thrashing as your second orgasm swallows you up. It sends you crashing, body spasming as the sheer euphoria waves over you slowly and then all at once.
“Perfect,” he grunts, leaning down to slot his mouth against yours, “my perfect girl.” Your cum makes the sound of his hips erotic, the loud squelching following your panting. Still sensitive from your high, your body unconsciously tightens around him, keeps his cock from fully leaving. It brings a soft whine out of Jungkook, one he tries to muffle against the side of your face.
“Inside,” you whimper, even though your body feels like jelly beneath him. “Cum inside, Kook, please,” you beg.
It only takes a few more thrusts into your leaking hole for him to finally reach paradise, hips stuttering when that first shot of pleasure hits him. “Fuck, fuck,” he growls, wildly snapping his hips into your achy cunt. You moan, feeling just about brainless at the overstimulation. His cum leaves you full, almost makes your belly bulge from it. When he’s done he doesn’t bother pulling away, simply slumping into your limp form. His cock, though quickly softening, serves as a plug for the cum threatening to spill out of you.
There’s a muted noise coming from the other room, the faint sound of the mail slipping through your letterbox, the quiet chattering of the street outside. And of course, the loud blaring of your laptop playing the Phineas and Ferb theme song. Jungkook registers it at about the same time as you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.
He pushes off of you soon after, leaning on his palms over you. He’s got that molten look on his eyes, the heat of a thousand suns burning behind those irises as he looks at you. Like he can’t get enough, even though he’s just about taken everything there is to take. “Love you,” he murmurs quietly.
A drop of sweat rolls over his forehead, clinging to the end of his eyebrow. You reach up and brush it away, let your hand trail down his face to cup his cheek. Immediately he leans into the touch, eyes falling half shut. “Love you more,” you respond.
“Impossible,” he scoffs.
Soon after you’re both stumbling out of bed, clothes haphazardly shrugged back on as you drift through the living room. There’s a thin, hot pink package sitting at the door, just having slipped through the letterbox; the stark Sexuality Unleashed logo is printed on the visible side, so you have to wonder what Doyeon could have possibly ordered this time that could be so thin. The laptop is awkwardly sandwiched next to a throw pillow, barely open a crack. Jungkook retrieves it, sets it on his lap as you scamper over to the couch.
“More Phineas and Ferb?” he asks quietly. He hates it, you know he does. And still, he wants to watch it with you.
You nod. “Please.”
He isn’t so concerned with the plot as you, clicking some random episode to start. You snuggle into his side, quietly singing along to the opening. After a moment, Jungkook speaks again. “Phineas and Flirt?” he offers cheekily.
You roll your eyes. “That might’ve been your worst one yet,” you sigh, trying to drown out his indignant huff by focusing on the screen.
“I don’t exactly see you coming up with these,” he points out, obviously feeling wronged.
Without missing a beat you say, “Disney+ and bust.”
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epilogue
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commercial break one ; the resolution
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Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.
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ascendance - 01
PAIRING: mob!bucky barnes x reader
WARNINGS: violence, dark themes, age gap (reader is 23, bucky is 37)
SUMMARY: she was at the wrong place at the wrong time and a misunderstanding dooms her to a life as an ascendance card under the watch of the executer.
A/N: i’m so excited to go back to my mob writing roots with this one. there’s a bit of a few twists and changes to the traditional mob writing i’ve done before and i am really excited to be sharing chapter one with you. hope you enjoy it xx
> NEXT CHAPTER 
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The ambience was dark, badly lit by the yellow flickering lights in the halls with echoes of the buzzing of the hot old light bulbs. There was no sound but that buzz and the heavy sound of his boots hitting the rotting wood floor boards. The scent in the air was putrid, a mix of what seemed like life meeting its end stage, cheap cider and weed. It was definitely different and he didn’t trust it. 
At the end of the corridor there it was. 107. The 107th flat in purgatory with the door slightly opened. He pushed the door open, the smell getting more intense and his boots sticky with the liquor spilled on the floor. 
     - What did you do? - each word was punctuated with intense disbelief, as if this was all a nightmare. 
     - Bucky, help me!
PRESENT
The wind brushed and pulled her hair into different directions as she stepped off the train’s step. She rushed through the streets of New York, hair pin stuck in the middle of her teeth as she fought the winds to try and set her hair into an appropriate hair do while running down the street at the same time. The chattering people and the sun peaking through the clouds was hopeful as she grabbed her coffee from the same vendor off the side street as her eyes gazed upon the Metropolitan Opera House which had been gracing the New York landscape for longer than she had been on this earth and now she was part of it, she was a small speck in an almost 60 year long history. 
Her smiled widened as her sneakers hit the pavement, eyes gazing over the fountain and the flags of the production coming down from the opera house’s arches. The same production she was part off. Sure, she was a chorus girl but the mere thought of singing on that stage, of watching that public in those red velvet seats under the chandelier just made it all more exciting. She walked inside the theatre through the stage door, meeting the manager at the door. 
     - Hi. - she leaned her hands against the desk where the manager was surrounded by attendance and cast sheets as well as a big laptop shining a blue light onto her face. The woman didn’t even look up, instead putting up a board with the names of all people in the production in front of her. - Do you need to see my ID? 
     - Just sign in front of your name. 
Y/N giddily looked at the list of names, hers closer to the bottom but there, written in bold Arial font. She signed her name in front of her printed one with the barely working pen, before pinning it over the board and handing it over to the manager who pointed inside the opera theatre. She held onto her gym bag harshly, padding the sublime floors and looking around with such wonder one would believe she’d never been here. She’d been here before, she was here every month to watch a performance but now she was not guest, she was not just another person walking in with a ticket, she was part of it, she was part of the show. After years of doing community plays, workshops and failed auditions, she had gotten here and suddenly all those days spent in bed feeling miserable in bed after getting rejected yet again didn’t matter anymore she was here.
Her eyes glanced at every tiny little ornament in the opera house until she entered the theatre room. Her heart filled with joy and happy nostalgia as the red and golden tones of the room involved her. There wasn’t anyone in the theatre yet except for a few musicians from the instrumental pit and some cleaners so she was free to roam around. Her fingers traced the suede velvet of the red seats, finding a few missing binoculars on the grounds but not really caring. 
     - You! - she whipped her head towards the voice which came from a woman, probably in her mid 40s all dressed in black with a gold name tag slightly above her left breast. 
     - Hi. - Y/N smiled, extending her hand towards the woman. - I’m Y/N, I’m the new ...
    - I don’t care, we need silk ribbons, now. 
    - Oh, I ... I’m new, I don’t know where I’d get silk ribbons, m’am.
    - The costume room? Go, stop looking at me as if you were Bambi and go.
    - Oh, okay. 
She made her way hastily out of the theatre room wondering how she was going to find silk ribbons, where she was going to find them and why she had to find them. Maybe it was a hazing ritual for new people, after all, she had been into various hazings during her career, including downing a whole bottle of honey which she couldn’t even finish, only eating one fourth of it before becoming nauseous. 
She stopped in the middle of the hall, wondering where the costume room could be. It couldn’t be on the top floor, that was usually where the bars and common rooms were so if the building followed regular construction protocols for opera houses, it was probably on the underground section of the house where the dressing rooms used to be. Y/N ventured into the lift, pressing the lowest number on the number chart of the panel until she reached the underground floor. Y/N looked around, people running in and out yet no one stopped whenever she tried to question where the costume room was. She had managed to find the costume shop but no luck finding the costume room until she was pretty much pressed against a dark door with those exact words by the passing crowd. 
She twisted the knob of the costume room door, tumbling onto the dark room as a result. The room was filled to the brim with costumes on each side of the room, a plexiglass divider between the two sides which stopped every meter or so and also appeared to be divided onto female and male costumes with the ensemble costumes at the back. She padded across the concrete floors, looking through dresses and accessories for ribbons but no successful attempt. The ruffling from the other side of the room had her turning around, forehead furrowed as she walked towards the plexiglass divider. 
     - Hello? - she questioned, wondering if there was someone in this room who could help her find silk ribbons. Great, she had barely joined the company and was already screwing up. Great, Y/N. Way to go, Y/N. 
She saw someone all dressed in black just like the women before, yet there seemed to be something which didn’t match up; black jeans, black shirt and black leathe jacket as well as a pair of also black boots, scruffed and probably entirely too old to still be holding up together. Her eyes caught his which despite the low almost non existent light of the costume room, were light, a sort of greyish blue like the calm sea before of storm. His gaze pulled hers in, like gravity and she couldn’t help but clutch the jacket next to her as a bad feeling along with something she’d never felt before settled in her stomach. 
His hair was mostly pushed back yet the ones which framed his face fell like dominos. She moved along the side where she was to one of the plexiglass gaps and he did the same still maintaining eye contact with her, until the two reached the gap. She didn’t notice she was holding her breathe in until she breathed out.
    - Hi. - her own hand gripped her wrist, shoe grinding against the floors. - Uhm, I’m new here and this lady sent me down to find some silk ribbons but I can’t find any. Do you ...
    - I... uh ... I don’t know where they are. - he faltered for a few seconds before regaining his posture.
    - Oh, I thought since you were here, you might be one of the stage managers. 
    - I’m not. - his tone was monotonous, almost as if he had the answer to her question before she even made it. 
    - Oh ... - she rubbed her neck. - Are you also looking for silk ribbons?
    - I’m looking for the dressing rooms, actually.
    - They’re down the hall. -  she pointed at the door as if it was the “down the hall”. - Hum ... Are you new here too?
    - Yeah. Thanks. - he walked towards the door, opening it and stepping out before catching her gaze once again. 
Y/N remained in the middle of the room as if she were in a transe and maybe she was. It felt like she was falling yet she was firm on her feet and she did not like that feeling. She did not like that feeling of falling, it wasn’t feeling, it was hopeless falling and she wondered why looking at a man who looked like an 80′s glam rock reject made her feel like that, so lost. Maybe it was the respect he appeared to command by merely looking at her or maybe it was the nerves about being new and not being able to find some goddamn silk ribbons. Damn it. 
    - Call for 30 minutes before dress rehearsal. - the voice came from the intercom and immediately her mind dropped the idea of finding silk ribbons and moved to finding the ensemble dressing room and get dressed and ready. Damn it, this was going well. 
She rushed down the hall, bag almost slipping off her shoulder until she saw the door with the ensemble plaque on it. The young woman peaked inside the room where pretty much everyone with a role on the ensemble were already sat down. She shyly walked in the middle row until she found her own little corner, her name written on a sticker on the mirror along with photos of how the makeup should be done as well as how to get the costume in correctly. The same goofy smile returned as she sat down and saw her name above her. It was fine, she was here, she was part of a company.
    - Hey you’re new. - the girl next to her twirled her chair to face her. She already had her makeup on and hair pinned curled up and ready to put a wig cap on. - I’m Elliot but people call me Elle.
    - Y/N, I’m the new chorus girl. First day. 
    - Aw, welcome. - she had a bright smile, inviting and almost as exciting as the whole experience of being there. - Do you want help pincurling your hair? I can get it done while you do your makeup. 
    - Yes, please. - she pulled out a big box from her bag which had all her makeup and pins. 
Elle started pin curling her hair up while she put an inappropriate amount of blush on which was just appropriate to get on stage under the bright yellow lights. Turns out half the practice for opera is learning to do your makeup under bright yellow lights and then learning to sing. 10 minutes to rehearsal start, she was along with Elle going down and up to the main stage where most dancers were warming up. Elle left her to do so, leaving Y/N once again to just stand there, looking around like a little sheep in the middle of wolves. 
    - I’ve never seen you around. - her shoulders almost went up as he turned to see one of the principal sopranos, if not the principal soprano. She had seen all of her shows ever since she was a teenager and she had even wrote an essay for university on her for a module. Catherine Vargas, the best New York could offer, if not the best the world could offer. - I didn’t know they were still casting dancers.
    - Oh, I’m a chorus girl, Mrs Vargas. 
    - A chorus girl? - she furrowed her brows at her, looking her up and down. - What type?
    - The type who ... is in the back with the ensemble. - her voice lowered at least a few volumes down, back curved as if she were bowing. 
    - I know what chorus girls do. I asked what vocal type. 
    - Lyric soprano, m’am.
    - A lyric soprano in the chorus. Interesting. Where did you train?
    - Julliard, m’am.
    - Julliard? - she looked her up and down again. - That is a great school. What is a Julliard graduate doing in the chorus line?
    - Everyone starts somewhere. - she laughed nervously, scratching her arm as she did so.
    - Not a lyric soprano from Julliard. Composers sure do love an ingenue, don’t they? Don’t worry, a few months with me and you’ll be supporting. 
    - That’s ... that’s really kind, Mrs. Vargas. Thank you.
    - Don’t thank me. Could you get me some honey from my dressing room? I’m feeling a bit strained. 
    - It’s 5 minutes until rehearsal starts.
    - It’s okay, chorus normally doesn’t do much during rehearsal. Can you get it?
    - Yeah, I think so.
She straightened her crinkled skirt, looking behind her back before going down the stairs which led down to the dressing rooms. This was good, right? Getting into one of the main star’s good graces besides she was right, the chorus didn’t really get much attention during rehearsals, at least not as much as the main characters. It’s easier to get away with screwing up in the back than in the front, her teacher would tell her which would always earn a few laughs from her colleagues. Yet, Y/N hated to make any mistakes. She would stay up all night in front of a cheap piano she had bought from a charity shop, playing and singing the same 5 note progression until her flatmate yelled at her to shut up. For her, if it wasn’t perfect and if she didn’t get any criticism while performing it, she hadn’t done it right. It didn’t matter at the end of the day but what did matter was to climb up the ladder. She didn’t want to be a star, all she wanted was to be able to be on that stage forever with the spotlight shining on her and she knew there was only one way to climb up. Actually there were two, extreme luck and connections. Now, she didn’t have the best of luck so her major choice was to make connections and reach that status. 
She made her way into the principal dressing room. It was probably one of the biggest she had ever seen, with expensive decor and various flowers covering it. She wondered how many flowers she received on opening nights if that was the number she had on regular days. Y/N made her way to the desk, opening drawers and more drawers to find honey until she found it on the lowest drawn. She went down on her knees to grab it, mindless and careless to everything that was happening until she felt a sharp pain on the side of her her.
Then everything went dark. 
TAGLIST: @lookiamtrying @buckyswillows @blossomslibrary @juliesland @iloveshawnieboi @unmagically​ 
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quacka-quacka · 3 years
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I mentioned Paul's strong resistance to being recognized as effeminate man or gay (here). Although he can hang out with gay guys, wear rainbow flag in public [yeah I definitely need to write that again in case someone didn't see it], being considered gay or "cute" is beyond endurance. I know someone love to interpret this as "don't want to his sexuality being mislabeled", which indeed looks sensible when it comes to the homosexuality, but this excuse can't be applied to the "cute" thing, right? You can't say being cute or feminine is the same thing as being gay, can you? Well, I can hear Paul's every single cell screaming O!M!G! Feminine! all the time. He doesn't want himself have anything to do with feminine, which, unfortunately can not be simply regarded as personal preference, it's indeed a despising of femininity, and femininity? Of course it's about female. Yes, "phallicism", the worship of masculine are still popular in today's society, but it doesn't mean it's right. I have to say Paul's thought is the product of this society, not to mention that he is an old man who grow up in a working-class family six decades ago, we can't demand him that much. His attitude towards women is the same thing.
PAUL: We were more amazed to see the [Japanese] women leaping up out of the seats for the promoter, because we'd never seen that in the West. The subservience of the women was amazing. They'd say, 'Oh God, I'm sorry - was I in your seat?' I remember us getting back to Britain and saying to our wives and girlfriends, 'I wouldn't want you to do that, but maybe it's a direction worth considering?' Promptly rejected.
— The Beatles Anthology
Although Paul seems to know that it's pretty cool for a woman to pursue her own career, like admitting Jane was famous before he was, allowing Linda to write a cookbook or have a photography exhibition, the androcentrism is too ingrained for him to forsake. He acknowledged Jane's achievements but still wanted her to give up work completely:
'I always wanted to beat Jane down,' says Paul. 'I wanted her to give up work completely.'
'I refused. I've been brought up to be always doing something. And I enjoy acting. I didn't want to give that up.'
— Hunter Davies, The Beatles
He allowed Linda to do her own thing, but they are not entirely hers - all those projects are belong to MPL, and do not forget Paul said this after Linda's death:
She never did anything on her own because we were together so much. 
— Paul McCartney, interview w/ Chrissie Henderson for USA Week-end: Tears and laughter. (October 30, 1998)
That's so sweet to see Paul would support his wife any time, but on the other hand it also shows that Linda never get the chance to do something entirely on her own without Paul's interference after she got married. No wonder so many people from inner circle [including Linda, yeah] described Paul as "typical Northerner":
Linda confided that Paul was a ‘typical Northerner’ who believed women should stay at home while men worked.
— Bonnie Estridge, The Mail on Sunday. (March 20th, 2005)
Paul was raised the old-fashioned way. Men were the breadwinners; women stayed at home, had babies and tea on the table. He's still an old-fashioned guy, very careful with money.
— Ruth McCartney
Like the other Beatles, he [Paul] was essentially an old fashioned Liverpool man, who wanted his woman tucked away at home cooking the dinner and minding the kids.
— Cynthia Lennon, John
Jane was a serious actress and wanted to continue her career, but Paul had other ideas. That’s why Linda was so perfect for Paul; she was just what he wanted, an old-fashioned Liverpool wife who was completely devoted to her husband.
— Marianne Faithfull, Memories, Dreams and Reflections
I'd say Paul was not that old-fashioned, at least he allowed his wife to do other things besides being a full-time nanny, but everything she does must cater his needs. As Jane once mentioned, he always wants his girl to adore him like fans:
The trouble is, he wants the fans’ adulation and mine too. He’s so selfish; it’s his biggest fault. He can’t see that my feelings for him are real and that the fans’ are fantasy.
— Jane Asher, Love Me Do! The Beatles’ Progress by Michael Braun
I know some of the fans can't wait to jump up now and shout "Paul and Jane didn't have a mature relationship!" "He's much mature after he meet Linda!" "Paul and Linda had a very very very healthy relationship!" Ok, if you really did some research, you may know that he's never mature enough to know how to fully respect women, at least before the end of divorce with Heather Mills. I have seen the theory appears too many times that Paul and Linda's marriage is the result of careful consideration: Linda came along with a ready-made child and she's ready to marry again - well, I regret to tell you both Paul and Linda wouldn't agree with you.
I was a great disappointment to my family When I got married [to a geologist] and moved to Arizona, it was crazy. I had been pressured by men all my life. I rather liked being on my own, making my own decisions. I had actually sworn to myself that I would never get married again.
— Linda McCartney, interview for Playgirl: An intimate conversation with pop’s preeminent pair. (February, 1985)
As she says, she's quite enjoy her freedom and had absolutely no interest in marriage. What did Paul do? He "twisted her arm" to make her agree.
I persuaded Linda to come to London for a visit. Then I rang Heather in New York and said, ‘Heather, will you marry me?’ She was five. ‘No, don’t be silly,’ she said. ‘I’m too young.’ ‘Well, I can wait,’ I said. So we went to New York and brought her back to London to live with us, and I twisted Linda’s arm and finally she agreed to marry me.
— Paul McCartney, interview for Playgirl: An intimate conversation with pop’s preeminent pair. (February, 1985)
Linda also said neither of them knew what they were doing when they got married:
LINDA: 'So instead of getting an agent I met Paul instead and got married. Or I was going through a transition then and didn't know quite what I was doing and he obviously didn't know quite what he was doing so we ended up marrying instead.'
— Paul McCartney: Many Years From Now
Again, I'm not saying Paul and Linda never loved each other or their marriage was completely made up for media, but I don't think his marriage with Linda enabled him to prioritize other's feelings [his status as one of the four head monsters doesn't help]. Linda's overmuch unilateral compromises certainty don't make him look mature. Let alone his excessive dependence on her.
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Reply to all these who think feminize Paul/men is a bad thing:
You love to say that Paul doesn't want the cute title because people used to mock him by that. I understand it. But do you ever think about why being feminine is not taking him seriously? Do you ever think about this is the discrimination about femininity from the whole society? Why does a man must be despised when he has anything to do with femininity? And Paul's approach is denying his femininity, which is the same with those who mock it, like - a man being feminine is a shame because it means he can't be "respected" like other men. It's the recognition of this concept, which is outdated if you think about it.
P.S. Someone who reblogged my post doesn't seem to like the sentence "there must be many sweet moments between Paul and Linda". Ok, I delete it then.
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