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trashlie · 8 months

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ILY FP 237

Wanna know something that feels insane? I went to go reread 151 for yknow, reasons, lmao and I noticed it came out September 30, 2021.

/2021/!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

IT'S BEEN 2 YEARS SINCE THAT EPISODE DROPPED?! NO WONDER WE CAN'T BE NORMAL ABOUT ANYTHING!!!!! NO WONDER WE'RE ALL AS FERAL AS SHINAE AND CLIMBING WALLS AND CHEWING THROUGH OUR KEYBOARDS. I can't get my head around this lmao TWO WHOLE YEARS?! What the HECK?! This has been WILD!!!!!!!

Anyway, I kind of wish you guys could have seen me immediately after reading this episode because I swear it felt like I went through the five stages of like, grief or something, for reasons I'll get to lmao like, my friends and i live blog at each other as we read and it was just a wall of screaming cat emotes sent over and over and DREAD and STRESS and some kind of dramatic chaos and calamity before we got it out of our systems and were like "okay i can be normal* about this now

*as normal as possible all things considered lmao

Anyway. AN EPISODE AIN'T IT? Let's go

I had fantasized a lot about how I waned Dieter and Nol's conversation to go, and as always, I was not entirely on the mark. That's why I'm not the one writing ILY XD But regardless, I love what we got, and we got things that I did NOT expect at all!

There's something about how it starts off with that sort of.... "we're pretending everything is normal and that you didn't totally oversee me making moves on the girl you like while i thought you were sleeping and you don't even know why I came back after blocking all of you let's definitely make visitation plans" that is so funny to me, even though that's absolutely how I expected it to go. Dieter is the master of playing it cool, much to his own detriment, but it works in this case, because Nol is so very like a feral cat, isn't he?

I'm actually really glad that we touched on the topic of visitation because I was SO CERTAIN Nol wouldn't want them to visit him, wouldn't want to be seen like that, wouldn't want to be reminded of their lives going on while he's stuck behind bars for a crime he didn't commit. And Dieter is not that subtle with the way he goes down the list of the potential visitors Nol can have - not that there's, yknow.... many..... lol but we all know what he's getting at, carefully hedging the important matters at hand. "It would make you happy if she visited you, too... right?"

Something so funny about my agitation at the end of this episode was that I so badly wanted to comment on how Nol's reaction to Dieter winning the game reminded me SO MUCH of the expressions Shinae makes lol I don't know if that's just a result of quimchee's artstyle or just one of those many things they have in common, but it makes me laugh a lot.

Dieter possesses a rather straight forward nature that I'm so envious of. I'm the kind of person who struggles to bring up things that I need to talk to friends about, too burned by past experiences that didn't go well that I still get worried that addressing important topics with my friends will go south even though I know better, so I beat around the bush, I hem and haw. But Dieter is SO direct with Nol, even as Nol tries to deflect, even as he attempts to bush it off. It's so admirable! Especially while Nol is being.... well. Nol lmao

I CANNOT believe that he really went nine-year-old on the playground being accused of liking a girl like. He LITERALLY went BLEH why would I even HURL alkfjkafjafjkafkjafjk MY GUY?! ALKFKAFJAKFKAJFKJ?1 He is akjffakfj a MENACE truly related to Nana!!!!!!!!!

I think this must be the most open and honest Nol has ever been with Dieter. When you think about it, Dieter really is the one friend who has been the most "on the outside" of Nol's life, he has only known Yeonggi, and it wasn't for malicious reasons. That's all the stuff Nol dislikes about his life, that he tries to neatly compartmentalize. Up until recently, he was able to do so. Kousuke was off his back, he was more or less free. Everything changed when Rand went out of country and Kousuke had Nol helping out at the office. Dieter had no reason to really know much more about Kousuke and Nol's relationship because Soushi joining their group meant Kousuke wasn't around as often, and we saw that they both were able to thrive (as well as possible) outside of the way of each other.

So for Nol to open up enough to tell him that he doesn't really make friends, despite how it looks. That most people don't really seem to like him, that he doesn't like his peers or his family, that they are really the only people he has let into his life is big. There's so much Dieter still doesn't know about him, but baby steps. You can't just dump all of that, even if he was ready to.

And in him saying this, to some degree I understand. After all, all this while Nol wasn't even aware of those feelings, of what she meant. I think there were moments - like at the formal when he made her laugh - but it wasn't anything like when he had his head rest upon her shoulder, feeling at peace despite his injuries, feeling calm despite the location, feeling like he could fall asleep and learned that it had nothing to do with medication that made him realize it. So on the one hand I DO get his logic, because what if he IS misplacing this feeling, what if he IS wrong, what if he's making something out of nothing?

But I'm sure on another level he knows better, because he knows what Dieter saw, because he was acting on what he felt.

I think Nol has never had feelings for anyone, because he has nothing to compare this to. He said he "tried to make it work" with Alyssa, but there's a sense that he was never actually into her, that there weren't actually any feelings there and they never grew as time went on. And now that he feels these unfamiliar things for Shinae, how is he to know?

What's really funny is that this is the same tactic as Shinae, but in reverse. When she told him we're all friends and he adamantly told her no, because he knows better, because it wasn't platonic, because their kind of friend is so different from how she's friends with Dieter. And even though he's the one who knows his feeling and suspects hers, he still tries the same logic she used: that anyone else could be in her position and maybe he'd still feel the same, that maybe it's just because he's so starved for kindness that he's responding to that.

Again, we know better, but it's so funny to me that she literally tried to use the logic that all friendships are different but also she could put anyone else in his place and it would be the same.

Please. I need them to stop kidding themselves lmaoooooo

For Nol's sake, though, he needs it to be a thing that will pass, because in his mind not only does he endanger Shinae by caring about her, but he also betrays his friend, only further hurts him, and given that Nol's whole deal is that he tries to rebalance the bad he brings into the world by making up for it with good, he's really doing a terrible job.

Unfortunately for Nol, feelings don't work like that and logic can't control them. He can tell himself it might be a thing that can pass, that it might be something that he'd get over, but that doesn't change Shinae's feelings, and the fact that she clearly likes him, not Dieter. It would be so much easier for Nol if Dieter actually treated it like a betrayal, if he was mad at him, if he felt like Nol had wronged him. He wants him to be angry, because he can at least use Dieter's anger and pain as a reason to step back, because god knows Nol himself does not have the will power to do it on his own. If he can say "Acting on my feelings is hurting my friendship with Dieter" he could have a concrete reason to ignore them, because it's not worth losing his friendship.

But that's not who Dieter is. He isn't giving him that kind of excuse.

We can see, too, just how important those friendships are to Nol, that hurting Dieter would be reason enough to drop his feelings! Because these are the only friends he has. The only people who have made him feel like he has value. Made him feel not like nothing but something. A somebody. Special. That's not something worth throwing away, which is ironically what gets him into this problem. These people made him feel special, and he came to care about them as they care about him, and in his mind this has endangered them all, and it's more than enough reason to hold them at arms' length, to smother his feelings and hope they'll die out like cold embers, hope that if he doesn't fans the flames or add new wood, it will go cold.

I really feel for Dieter having this conversation because honestly, it can't be easy. Even though he's holding himself together, we know that it still hurts. His expression with his eyes closed when he mentions how he's seen the way Shinae cries for him... agonizing! He's seen it multiple times now! He's always the one who picks up her pieces and gives her comfort, even though it hurts him to do, even though he knows why she's crying. It wasn't just what he saw that morning when they thought he was asleep - he's been watching this all along, from the beginning, always consciously comparing himself to the people in her life and how she interacts with them. Even as a friend, he doesn't have what she has with Minhyuk or Nol. Dieter knew all along what he was getting into, knew all along the way they interact, the way they gravitate towards each other, and he couldn't help but hope he might have that, too. That with enough time they could be like that. All this morning did was show him that he was never going to have that with her, that he never really stood a chance. ;~; But he tried! It's more than Nol can say right now....

Nol's agitation is such a BIG deal! Again, Dieter has never really known Nol. Yeonggi wasn't like this! Yeonggi didn't have this energy, that feral cat energy, that edge! His shock in response to how Nol responds shows that much - because to him this isn't a big deal, if he likes her then he likes her and he just wanted Nol to know that he won't hold it against him. But there is just so much Dieter doesn't know! He can't understand at this point why Nol is so emotional about it, why he seems so agitated and upset, why he's insisting it will never happen. Seeing those emotions on his face!!! The way Dieter goes from startled to defensive to concerned.

"If you don't like seeing her hurt, it's in your best interest to keep her away from me."

That sounds so threatening! He's the only one who is hurting Shinae, what Nol is saying can't possibly make any sense to Dieter.

He doesn't know about the formal.

He doesn't know about Shinae getting tricked by Yui, how she was coerced to attend that harrowing formal in order to protect someone who it turned out didn't need protecting.

He doesn't know about the fall from the pool and how she hit her head and was in the hospital when she should have been at home getting a good night's sleep the night before her college entrance exams.

He doesn't know about the contract she's locked into.

About the roofies, about Sangchul.

About how Shinae could have been assaulted, or how she could have died.

This is the most honest Nol has probably ever been with Dieter, with anyone but Shinae at this point, frankly, and unfortunately Dieter doesn't know anything, can't understand, but what he can see is that Nol means it. The fear on his face! He looks so childlike in how distressed and afraid he is!

When we really think about it, in Nol's eyes, it is about him. That he is a blight, a mistake who was never supposed to exist. That what happened to his mom was because of him, because he exists. Because he didn't treat her well. What happened to Shinae is because he took interest in her, because she meant something to him, and that wasn't acceptable. He believes harm comes to those he cares about, but in his view that's the extent of it. It's not that Yui is a monster, it's that she's a monster to him.

He doesn't have our objective knowledge. He doesn't know that Kousuke has been drugged and manipulated his whole life, that she drove that wedge between him and his father. He doesn't know that Yui invited Shinae to Kousuke's apartment and treated her inappropriately, tried to undress her, put her in Kousuke's clothes. Does he even really understand how Shinae wound up at the formal? That it wasn't about him at all - that Shinae was convinced Kousuke did something wrong by giving her a job she didn't deserve, that she had to attend the formal to "protect his job".

So to him, it's just because it's him. Because he cares. Because he is a mistake and doesn't deserve any of this, and that they are punished for him not knowing his place. His worries extend to Dieter and Soushi as well, because they are also people he cares about, and maybe the universe will harm them, too, to remind him of his place.

He doesn't know what he has to protect them from, just that he must.

One of these days, we are going to get flashbacks of what happened when Nol was taken away to Hirahara Memorial, and I'm not ready. The way he looks so small and childlike sitting there in his bed with all of his fear and distress, all of these feelings so knotted up inside. What did they do to him when he was in there? What did they say to him, that made him so deeply internalize this belief? Almost two years of being broken down, being convinced that the things that happen to those you care about are the direct result of you caring of your existence. And that's the most frustrating part about it - it's so deeply ingrained, so intricately woven into his psyche that he can't just change his way of thinking. It's going to be so difficult to undo that thinking!

Not that this is really new to us but, just getting to really mull over this is so heartbreaking. Nol is so terrified of losing her, that he's willing to lose her to protect her. He'd rather not have her at all if it will keep her safe, if it will protect her from harm, even though it's so clear that he wants the opposite. He cares so much and it makes him so very afraid. How does he live like that?! That constant battle of wanting vs what he fears, how he let them into his life and broke his rules and in his mind this has put them in danger.

"If you don't like seeing her hurt, it's in your best interest to keep her away from me!"

He really would rather be the one that hurts her to protect her than to take any chances and it just makes me feel SO EMOTIONAL. ;A; OKAY. Because what can you even do to help him? He is so..... I don't like it when people say the word broken, because it often feels low-key like they mean someone is too traumatized to ever be "repaired" but when I say Nol is so broken, I mean that he has been put in situations that have damaged his self-view, that have damaged his psyche, that have altered the way he thinks and feels to such a degree that he is sitting here willing to hurt people in order to protect them, because he lives in this constant fear of unknown that he cannot predict. They took this vulnerable kid and put him through absolute HELL, they broke him and then they refused to put the pieces back together.

I hope that Dieter will talk to someone about it. Is it something he can talk about with Shinae? Can he pull together any clues? He's our most observant character, but does he know enough to start to grasp this very real fear that has gripped Nol? He was there at the arcade when Kousuke and Yui came to pick up Nol, when he reacted strangely to her being there, when he slapped away Kousuke's hand. Is that something that he'd remember, think is worth pursuing? And even if so, what can come of it? He looks genuinely worried and concerned, though, and I hope that something will be able to come of it, because I think even if he can't understand what Nol fears, he at least knows that to him it's very real.

Soushi's timing with the jello just.... KILLED me. KILLED ME what a time to interrupt ;______; How do you get back to that conversation?! And especially with Kousuke there now, it's effectively over. It just!!! LKFAFKJAJFKAKJFAJKFKJAF KLJAFKJAF AKJFKAJFKAFJKAF IT KILLS ME OKAY AAAAAUUUUUGGGGGGH

And while I know very well that Kousuke is there with good intentions, that he looks so haunted standing in the hallway waiting for Nol, I can't help but feel a heavy curtain of foreboding coming down, because Kousuke comes in like an omen. Because things go bad when he shows up, even when he's not the one trying to stir things up. And frankly, I don't look forward to this, because I know whatever is going to go down is going to hurt! There's something so..... I guess bitter about Kousuke's very too little too late moment, how he has struggled all these years with how badly he wants Rand's love, how much he fears not being good enough, how terrified he was that Nol could have it and replace him, the guilt for destroying a young child who was never a real threat to him (even though Yui absolutely made him out as a real threat in Kousuke's mind). It's like... knowing that Kousuke is starting to unlock this, is starting to see the insidious underbelly, while knowing it's too late. Nol has wiped his hands of him. He literally nearly died as a result of what happened the night before and even if Kousuke is coming to reach out to him, or to confirm something, Nol has no reason to entertain him, to hep him.

I feel like we are very much seeing that table turn, the role reversal. We're going to watch Kousuke fall apart, trying his best to hold himself together, with no one to turn to, no one he can actually trust, his paranoia eating him alive. It's not that I think anything heavy is going to go down as much as.... maybe we're going to watch Kousuke reach out to him, whether for help or to acknowledge something - that Nol, too, was drugged, that this must be why he hates tea so much, that so many times he ignored Nol's pleas for help - and Nol is probably going to reiterate how very done with him he is, that he wants nothing to do with him or this family any more, that he is done with them and what they've done to him. And just. AUGH ALKJAFKJJKFJKAF IT KILLS ME I'M SO EMOTIONAL I'M SO DISTRESSED BECAUSE WE KNOW WHY KOUSUKE WAS LIKE THAT WE KNOW HOW HE WAS MANIPULATED, HOW THE DRUGGING WAS USED TO ALTER HIS MEMORIES AND HOW HE RECALLED EVENTS HOW HE BELIEVES IN THIS FICTITIOUS VERSION OF NOL WHO WAS FORMED BY YUI'S WORDS AND IT KILLS ME BECAUSE NOL IS SO WELL WITHIN HIS RIGHT AND I JUST. TRAAAAAAGIIIIIIIIIIIIC SIIIIIIIIIBLLLLLLLLIIIIIIIIINNNNGSSSSSSSSS ;A;

And things just always go south when Kousuke comes around. He puts Nol in a worse mood, he starts to act out more. We literally watched this kid jump off a fucking balcony into a pool below and revisit the last time he was at the bottom of a pool, contemplating never returning to the surface! THINGS NEVER GO WELL WHEN KOUSUKE IS INVOLVED AND I'M NERVOUS AND SCARED AND I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS ;A;

At this point, I feel like everything really is up to Shinae at this point, because Nol is back to trying to rebuild his walls and put them up as high as he can, so ready to try to ignore these feelings, to play them off, to tell her that it probably means nothing, that he must just be acting this way because she's been nice when no one else has and if it was anyone else he'd probably feel the same way and GOD I am ready for her to go off on him. He all but told her to leave and come back when you know why you're fighting so hard for me, but I don't think he's actually PREPARED for her going back knowing her feelings, knowing what she wants.

Until now, there's always been a disadvantage between Shinae and Nol in their relationship, where he is always the one with the leg up, the one who knows more, the one who is making moves, the one who is in control of things. But I think we're going to see that change, based on her very feral way of fighting her feelings, how she was about to try to break down his door in order to continue their conversation, how agitated she is by the thought of him throwing her away.

It really does come down to her pure determination, and I'm fully expecting her to go in there and get into an argument with him lmao and frankly, I welcome it. I think that's the only way they're going to get anywhere. There's so many things they need to talk about, they need a heart to heart DESPERATELY but I don't think we're going to lead with it. I go back and forth on how I expect her to go, because she was SO READY to go back in and demand her things back "if I can't have you" (SCREAMING STILL) but now that she knows her feelings... will she? I hope she will, still. Because now it's almost worse, right? That he's taken all these things from her AND he still has a girlfriend AND he now has her heart? HOW IS THAT FAIR, GIVE IT BACK, GIVE BACK EVERYTHING!

I want them to argue because I think they're both a little more honest when they aren't thinking about what they're saying, when they let the hotheaded energy take over and words come out. Nol is probably going to play the "this probably doesn't even mean anything" game, the "this will probably pass and we'll both move on" game, the "maybe i'm just a selfish asshole friend and none of this means anything" game and Shinae is too hardheaded to let that slide.

I want her jealousy and insecurity to come out when Nol tries to shield himself with “I have a girlfriend” and I want her to remind him he said it was fake and he resents her. I want her to look him in the eye and ask if he can really throw it all away, if he wouldn’t have any regrets if he gave up and left her. I want him to fail to answer and instead tell her that maybe he can, who knows, maybe none of this is really real. And I want her to kiss him and prove to him how very real it is, how very much they both want it, and how very much they need each other.

And when she pulls away he can lean in, following her, pulling her back in, his brain off because god knows the moment her mouth touches his it's all over, he's melting, his resolve is crumbling and he's going all in, pulling her against him fingers in her hair mouth crashing back on hers so hungry so touch-starved so full of want.

They can talk about everything else once she's convinced him this isn't so fleeting. She can remind him what she already said, that she deserves a choice in this matter, that leaving doesn't change anything because she still works for the company she's still under contract and now there's more she can tell him - how Yui made her an offer that would essentially tether her to them, how Rand told her to take it that he says Yui will never let her go. That it was not about him that Yui is a witch, tell him about Kousuke's birthday, tell him about the way she got tricked, tell him about the things she tried to do to her.

I've already acknowledged that nothing can undo the years of damage that was done to Nol in the hospital and through years of abuse, but I think Shinae can, at the very least, make him see that she very much is just as trapped, that she's worse off if he leaves, that together they are so much stronger, that they don't have to endure this alone. He can tell her how scared he is and she can stroke his hair and reassure him the best she can that he's allowed to be scared in front of her that she feels scared, too, but maybe she's more afraid of losing someone who means so much to her, who is literally the reason she's gotten through everything she did. That maybe he thinks he's a monster but she's something else in him, that he is the sole reason she could endure that harrowing night.

I WANT THEM TO HAVE AN HONEST HEART TO HEART SO BADLY. I feel like we MUST be going that direction. There's been too much build up not to. As Lil Anon put it, ILY has never been quick to reward, and we must go through the ups and downs to get there. We've had this moment dangled in front of us for so long but we're not getting it easy. But we can see it in the narrative - the emphasis on their mutually realized feelings, that Nol was given that 3 day extension that leads so close to Christmas, the emphasis on her mouth, that these feelings happened before he went to jail. If there wasn't going to be a resolution, NONE of this would have needed to happen, especially not the 3 day extension. Quimchee is absolutely drawing this out - and not even in the "putting up pointless obstacles just to draw it out" kind of way but in the "you are going to be so satisfied when we get there" kind of way lol. It's just so easy to get spooked because that's what the writing is doing! That's tension, baby.

Hopeful optimism is always my downfall lmao but I just feel like we ARE going to have that resolution, that even if there's no relationship at this time, they will know where they stand, that she can convince him not to push her away, that they are too important to give each other up. Whatever he's afraid of, they can brave it together! I WANT IT AND I FEEL LIKE IT'S SO CLOSE OKAY AND I'MA FLKJAFLKJAF AFLKJAFLKJAFKLA FLKJAFLAKJFLKAFJLAFKAFKLAFJAFKJFKAA

We were given two small asides about Nol's phone and the Bible, and I wonder if we'll be seeing those play out the 22nd. The phone is obviously coming in Kousuke's visit next week, but I wonder: does it even work anymore after everything that happened? It was still working after the pool fall, which feels like a miracle, but after falling from the second floor, after getting slammed around in the snow, now covered in blood, will it still be able to turn back on?! lmao I'm not sure what to make yet of Alyssa's messages left hanging like that, especially after walking "into the light" with Gun. There's the fact that she's off to some schedule, so could there be a chance for those dating rumors to come up that she has to strike down? On the one hand, they feel like they could be left hanging, which kind of feels so symbolic of their whole relationship lmao but. IDK!!!! At the very least it probably needs a charge LMAO but idk idk this is the area I get murky because I think it can go so many ways. I don't think Nol has any intention of breaking up with her at this time, especially because he'll probably try to use it as a shield against Shinae, but.... I've always felt the break up would come from her due to dating rumors. Especially because of how bad his reputation is at this point (violence, roofies which makes it sound like he sexually assaults people) it would be EASY for Alyssa's agency to spin it and make it sound like indeed, she does not have a relationship with him and in fact he has frightened her or something. They were even in public at the Christmas party arguing even on the dance floor, before what happened later so. Idk SOMETHING will come of that, I'm sure.

But I'm also hoping referencing the Bible means that maybe he will find it when everyone else has left and he's bored - especially if his phone won't turn on - and take a look at the letters Shinae mentioned, since he only thought there was the one.

This is really important to me, because I need Nol so badly to see how he stands in the same place his father did. I want him to be able to better understand his parents - how his mom stayed clinging to a married man who she could not really be with, how she uprooted her child and herself to move closer to him. How she tried over and over to be there for him, to try to support him, and Rand didn't allow it. How unlike Rand, Nol has less to lose. He isn't married, he doesn't have a child, a family. He doesn't NEED to stay in a relationship that will only suffocate him, that will turn him into a hollow husk of a man like Rand did. I NEED him to realize that he is on a fast track of following in his father's footsteps, in becoming this empty meaningless man.

I want him to see how Rand's feelings for Nessa never went away. Even after she died, he still carried her around in that Bible. In her letters, in the photograph of Nol. He carried her around because he never got over her. And is Nol prepared to live that way?

This is also why I'm perfectly fine with Nol and Shinae kissing before he and Alyssa break up, because I think it would help him better understand his parents - how Rand had a duty to his marriage, but he fell in love with someone who actually meant something, and how she was the love of his life that he never got over. To understand how his mom could be with someone who was married. For him to understand that feelings are NOT logical, that you can't really control them. He never meant to develop feelings for the girl his friend likes - but it still happened.

Maybe if Nol can understand them, it will help him forgive them a little, give him a tiny bit of peace. And hopefully help him to make the right decision, to accept the love people give him, and to face his fears together with them.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

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sonicblooms · 1 year

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i found out that one of my fave builders took all their builds off the gallery to lock them behind a perma-paywall and i had to just. sit with my feelings for a little bit 😭😭😭

#late-stage capitalism brainrot tings #like i am not paying 4 fucking dollars for a build pls get real #my take is: no one asked you to spend hours on a build or cc or whatever #expecting what is essentially reimbursement for something that isn't a job and you decided to do in your free time is so ???#the stark difference in intracommunity behaviour is riveting #u have creators like sforz who clearly love their hobby n just want to share that with us #and then u have others who are actively trying to rob u

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thereisselfpreservation · 2 months

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body in ghost city, heart in paradise manor

#the gnat rambles #tgcf #don't mind me i'm just experience late-stage brainrot

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shinobus-left-eye · 3 months

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i am so so normal about the ryuseitai climax story— is anyone else here having a massive kanata brainrot rn

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gothyanki · 6 months

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Some of the placeholders in this fic of mine are really... really?

#a placeholder from late last night:#“[do I want him or do I want to be him? both? starlight and the dark. his eyes when he talked about la révolution]”#absolute. brainrot.#followed by the stage direction [KARLACH AND VIN HUG]#all the rl deadlines this week are melting my brain #i do not know what kind of person i will be by sunday

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mettywiththenotes · 1 year

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If you don’t already know, I have a thing about hero-villain dynamics, I love them and usually am obsessed with them

I’ve been rewatching a lot of rwby recently, so I can’t stop thinking about Cinder and Ruby’s dynamic while also thinking about Tomura and Izuku. I’m not comparing, I’m just on total brainrot with these two dynamics from separate shows

So now I’ve got double the hero and villain brainrot going on in my mind lmao

#i've watched so much rwby lately that i've actually been imagining what tomura and izuku would look like in rwby's animation nidufnisdkmfsd #like. v6 onwards animation #i love the double brainrots too because like. i like ruby and cinders dynamic as well as izuku and tomura's #difference is tho - as much as izuku and tomura fight each other they also have intentions towards the other. roles that we can SEE #in their actions #e.g. fighting each other but tomura wanting to be saved and izuku wanting to save him #like there's just A LOT to their relationship #meanwhile ruby and cinder... hate each other lol #to the point where they trigger each other #and currently its specifically cinder who has such a visceral reaction to ruby's presence #because she is both obsessed with her AND scared of her power #more accurately she is scared of losing and feeling helpless again #like it definitely can be argued that they are still in the beginnings stage of whatever crwby has cooked up for cinder #but i just find it funny that from what i've watched so far #im obsessed with these two pairs #and they couldn't have more different reactions to their hero-villain's presence lol #(well cinder and ruby are more like antagonist-protagonist but yeah)#mettys posts #metty posts

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ticklish-n-stuff · 2 years

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Wake up call

Soo I originally wrote this for Toya's bday but I got very sick and wasnt able to finish it on time so uhh yeah- Happy late Birthday Toya!

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Akito x Toya

Ler: Akito

Lee: Toya

Warnings: Tickles! Not my best writing, i still feel unwell

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It was the start of a new day at the Shinonome household. The boys decided to have a sleepover the night before to be able to celebrate Toya's birthday all day today. Akito had gotten up to use the bathroom, when he came back, he found his boyfriend all sprawled out on his bed. Toya was snoring softly while hugging a pillow, Akito couldn't help but notice that his sweater had risen up, revealing his cute tummy. The redhead chuckled at the sight of his boyfriend as he carefully sat down next to his sleeping frame.

"Psst! Toya, time to get up" Akito whispered out, but Toya didn't budge at all. He was too lost in dreamland. Akito tried to gently shake him awake but it didn't work either. Suddenly, Akito thought of a fun way to wake up his sleeping beauty of a boyfriend. He lowered his hand towards Toya's bare tummy and softly stroked his fingers along it, drawing random shapes and patterns. The birthday boy instantly smiled at the tickly feeling, swatting gently at Akito's hands.

"Wakey wakey, today's your special day~" Akito grinned at the soft giggles that escaped Toya's lips. "Ahakito, stahap it!". Not that Toya minded it, of course

"I'll stop once you get up, until then...tickle tickle~" He then switched to stroking his partner's sensitive sides, enjoying all the cute gasps and noises that he made.

"EheEp-! T-this isn't fahahair!" Toya burried his blushing face on a pillow, already feeling too flustered by his teasing boyfriend.

"Well you aren't doing much to stop me, so seems pretty fair to me" Akito chuckled at the flustered whine that Toya produced. He then proceeded to pinch and prod at his ticklish ribcage, causing poor Toya to clamp his arms down. "eEEK! Ahahakito! It's sohoho bahad!".

"What? Is my tickling not good enough for ya? So needy...~" Akito then switched to digging all ten fingers into Toya's sensitive tummy, sending him into hysterics.

"WAHAHAIT! THAHAT'S NOT WHAT I MEHEHEANT!" Poor Toya squirmed around involuntarily, he even threw his pillow at Akito as a defense mechanism (ok that was totally on purpose-).

"Ohoho, you're so gonna regret that!" The redhead placed his hands on either side of Toya and started blowing raspberry after raspberry all across his sensitive tummy. "GYAAA! AHAHAHAHAHAHA-!" Ticklish lil Toya screeched in laughter...until it went silent and only then did Akito stop, he could be quite merciless.

"If you don't get up in the next five minutes, it'll be much worse~" And with that, Toya instantly got up, getting ready for the day. Akito could only chuckle in amusement. Then, the redhead snuck behind his partner and wrapped his arms around his waist. "Happy Birthday, Toya". Toya smiled in endearment and gave Akito a soft kiss on the cheek.

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Again, sorry for the crappy quality but I hope someone still enjoys it :)

#HAPPY BIRTHDAY TOYA #late birthday but whatever-#project sekai tickle #colorful stage tickle #lee!toya #ler!akito #tickle #tickle fic #colorful stage #project sekai #fic #colorful stage tickle fic #project sekai tickle fic #toya aoyagi #akito shinonome #akitoya brainrot

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hopeheartfilia · 4 months

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i love going on my fandom instagram to look at some pictures and just seing all for the game posts ive red days ago screenshoted

like yeah thanks, no ive seen it before

#basically i need my lil blorbo images and i deleted tiktok recently #so its hilarious #im using the insta i barely use #because my other insta is a giant feed of artists i follow and also people i know irl #so not conductive to the late stage skk brainrot #me #a shitpost can be blue

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amass0fvoices · 10 months

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I think gen loss demon slimecicle pushed me over the edge

I can feel the brainrot taking hold

I always thought the dsmp people were a bit odd

And here I am bingeing all the slimecicle qsmp vods I can

Goddamnit what’s wrong with me.

#I’ve got no fuckin morals #ITS STAGE 4 BRAINROT I CAN ALREADY TELL #ITS FUCKIN TERMINAL #AAAAAAAAAA #this stupid fuckin gunky man #I HATE THAT IM SO FUCKIN ATTACHED #AAAAAAAAAAAAA #opossum speaks #some late night ponderings #about myself and the blorbos I feel myself claiming #I can be normal about this one though. he’s a real guy. I can be normal.#I WILL be normal.#ignoring the fact that I’ve listened to spirit of the slime maybe 50 times since the gl soundtrack came out #I have been normal

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juyofans · 9 days

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it's you ( j.wy & c.s )

pairing › jung wooyoung x afab reader x choi san. about › 3.6k, nsfw (minors dni), fluff warnings › smoking weed, nicknames, threesome, double penetration, riding, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it guys), p in v, creampies, degradation, praise, fingering, high sex, idol au, mxm content, nipple play, woosan deserve their own warning, lmk if i missed anything

synopsis › getting high with your weed besties is something of a tradition for you. being fucked by them, however, is definitely not. note › when you haven't written since february and all of a sudden you watch chellateez and go into absolute brainrot 😂🙏 i swear i wrote this in 8 hours i don't know what the hell is wrong with me but whatever. also happy 4/20 so fitting for this fic am i right 😝 this is dedicated to my sexy hot smoking wife @yunhoszn tagging › @atzhouse @skteezcursed also @hoshiseon for encouraging me to keep going ily

“You’re late.”

You scoff, shutting the door behind you. The room is dim, save for the lamp in the corner, but you don’t need light to register the already thick atmosphere of the hotel room and the two silhouettes in the corner.

“Clearly, it doesn’t matter since you guys have already started,” you say, flicking the light switch on.

San comes into focus first, holding a rolled-up joint in between his fingers as he exhales smoke. The sight makes you dizzy, partially because of the cloudy air but also because of the opened blazer adorning his frame, exposing more than covering it. One look at Wooyoung proves the same, his loosened tie and black jacket strewn across the chair much more haphazardly than merely an hour ago on the Coachella stage.

“You guys didn’t even change?” you gasp, almost accusingly.

“Can you blame us?” Wooyoung responds, his silky voice floating through your ears, “That performance was insane. We needed something to calm us down.”

Wooyoung hands you a joint rolled up perfectly with his nimble fingers, and San beckons you over with two fingers. You shuffle over, watching him pull out his Hello Kitty lighter from the drawer beside him.

“We were too antsy to think about changing,” San confesses. You lean down, close to his chest as he flicks the wheel of the lighter. The orange flame dances across his chest, shimmering with the body oil he applied before the performance, and it’s hard to pay attention to your own joint when he lights it.

The smoke bursts, taking you by surprise, and you cough as San pulls the joint out of your mouth.

“You okay?” he asks, delicately cradling your chin. Your lungs burn as if they’ve been lit on fire, but all you can focus on is San’s warm gaze grounding you.

“Yeah, sorry, it’s been a while.”

“Do you not smoke without us?” Wooyoung asks from the corner. You turn, shifting your gaze to him and noticing the newly popped open buttons of his shirt.

“Of course not. You’re my weed besties, it’s like I’d be cheating on you if I got high without you.”

Wooyoung rolls his eyes, trudging over to take a seat next to you. He pats at the empty space next to him, right between you and San, and you oblige, letting the bed frame hit your back as you scooch down.

“Do you guys get high without me?” you ask, timidly, wondering if only you share this sort of possessive sentiment.

“Of course not,” San replies. He’s playing with your hair now, curling it between his fingers as if you were always meant to be in this position, by his side. “You’re our weed buddy for life.”

And it’s true. You got high with San and Wooyoung your first time years ago, and you knew you wouldn’t have it any differently as you watched them wipe away your tears from the burning ache in your chest and tell you that you were doing so well for them, that you were taking it like a champ and that you were safe with them. Pulling out the weed is almost a tradition now, often finding yourself in the backseat of the van exhaling smoke after a particularly exhausting performance or in your bedroom at night after a long day of work. It helps you take the edge off things, they help you take the edge off things, and it’s a mutual response that all three of you are together when you take your first and last hits.

“Yeah, we’re like friends with benefits. Except the benefit is the weed, not sex,” you clarify. You attempt to grab your joint from San, wanting to experience the so-called benefit you just mentioned, but San holds it high above him in an attempt to tease you and you can only pout in response.

“Ask me nicely, and maybe I’ll give it to you,” he says, holding it farther away from you as you reach for it with grabby hands. You can hear Wooyoung laughing from the side, but all you’re focused on is the prize in his hands as you lean over his lap, your right hand finding purchase on his exposed shoulder as you finally grab ahold of his hand, plucking the joint right out of his fingers.

“Got it!” you exclaim, but it takes a few moments for you to register Wooyoung’s silence before you look down, wondering why the room is engulfed in sudden quietness. You suppose you find the answer in San’s expression, staring up at you, and just about now you realize how imperceptibly close he is, how you’re now straddling his lap and somehow your hand has slid down to his chest, grabbing onto the hardness of his chest muscle.

You think you might die.

You feel San’s heart beating wildly against your fingers, and it takes thirty seconds before you realize that this is wrong, so, irrevocably wrong, and you make a move to shift off his lap.

“I’m so sorry,” you start, removing your hand from his abdomen and bringing your leg up, “I wasn’t paying attention and I—��

San grips onto your thigh, holding you in place. You still, wondering if his touch is merely a dream or something very, very real with even more real implications.

“Do you know how long I’ve imagined you like this?” he starts, his chest constraining as if he’s pained, as if the mere sight of you in his lap is like poison flooding his veins.

“What?” you ask. Your whole world shifts on its axis and suddenly, you’re hyperaware of the way his pants strain against his dick, the hardness against your thigh, and his heavy breathing in front of you.

“Five years,” Wooyoung answers. Your gaze shifts to where he sits, and he leans closer as if this is some dirty secret that’s only meant for your ears. “He’s imagined you in this position for five years, ever since the day we first got high together because you wanted to be good for him. For me. For us.”

And you feel like glass, see-through despite every intention to hide your feelings because it’s true. It’s imperceptibly true that you wanted to get high with them to gain some sort of intimacy with them, a tradition with only you three and feelings that no one else would understand. It’s true that your heart flutters whenever someone mentions it’s your thing with them, because even the mere thought of being associated with them is enough to drive you insane.

The joint in your hands can get you high, but nothing else makes you float like their presence next to you, imagining the way it’d feel if you just leaned a little closer and made yourself theirs.

“I don’t understand,” you say, even though you all know damn well that you do. “What are you trying to say?”

Wooyoung doesn’t answer. Instead, he grabs your face and smashes his lips against yours, swallowing your gasp and bringing you close.

You moan against his lips as you press back, too dizzy to even comprehend. You don’t know if your lightheadedness is from the hit you just took or Wooyoung’s lips, but either way, your brain is spinning and all you can think of is being consumed by him. He sucks your bottom lip in between his teeth, biting softly as you whine. Wooyoung kisses you like he’s starved, as if he wants to eat you whole and devour you as if you’re his for the taking, and judging by the way you respond so eagerly, you might as well let him.

“Enough,” San complains, and Wooyoung pulls back from you as you attempt to register what the hell just happened. You can’t even sit still for a moment before San pulls your thighs so you’re placed right on top of his clothed dick. All you can do is fall forward, meeting his lips halfway with yours.

If Wooyoung kisses you like he’s taking everything from you, then San breathes life back into you. He presses slowly, and gently, testing the waters until you whimper against his lips for more. It’s heartwarming how he handles you delicately, as if he’s your first everything, and it’s not long before you squirm on his lap and he has to pull back from you, throwing his head back and groaning.

“Stop,” he breathes ruggedly, making a noise of protest as you grind down harder. “I don’t want to make you come for the first time against my pants. I need to be inside you.”

Still, you can’t seem to stop until Wooyoung puts his hands on your waist. You whimper, almost in tears from being stopped so suddenly.

“Look at you, grinding yourself against him like a whore. Thought you were being good for us, but all you care about is about getting to cum, is it?”

“No!” you gasp, shaking your head, but you know you’re past the point of no return when Wooyoung spins you around, on San’s lap. San wraps his hand around your waist and pulls you close against him, again, and you feel the hardness of his abs against your thin shirt. Wooyoung moves from his position to kneel between San’s legs, and your legs, grinning wickedly as he lifts your short skirt so that you’re truly spread open for him.

“Look how wet you are,” he coos, and the sweet tone in which he says those filthy words makes you want to die, “how long have you been wanting us like this? Five years, maybe even longer?”

You nod, and San sighs against your ear.

“Could’ve been sitting pretty on my dick for ages now. It’s okay, though. We can make up for lost time.”

San trails kisses down the side of your neck, licking, biting softly, until you’re squirming away from him and he has to hold you in place with his right hand. The rings on his fingers shine against the lamplight, and you feel yourself getting wetter with the way he grips you so easily, kissing you so carefully but having the potential to ruin you wholeheartedly.

You’re brought back to reality when you feel a featherlike touch prod at your panties. They’re pink, cute, and definitely not the right ones to wear if you want to get fucked, but Wooyoung seems to pay no mind as he slides them off you in one go, tucking them into the back pocket of his pants. Your top follows next, and Wooyoung groans when he finds no bra underneath, making haste to lean in close, taking an exposed nipple into his mouth.

“No bra? You just wanted to strip for us, huh? So, so easy for us to fuck you.”

You can’t even say no because deep down, you know he’s right.

“You wear these short skirts,” he says, trailing his fingers up your thighs, “and tight shirts with no bra, and cute, cute little panties that drive us insane. Do you know how many times we’ve gotten off to the thought of you, so sweet and perfect like this?”

San bites your earlobe as Wooyoung says this, and you cry out, digging your nails into his thighs.

“You’ve gotten off to me?” you pant, breath heady with desire.

“More times than you can imagine, pretty.”

With that, his fingers finally find your folds, slipping inside them with ease. He finds your clit in seconds as if he was always meant to be there, and it’s not long before he traces figure eights on the nub, holding your thigh open with his free hand so tightly he’s sure to leave marks.

As if you weren’t crazy enough already, San ceases his ministrations on your neck to take ahold of your nipple in his hand, tweaking and pinching until it’s irritated before moving over to the other one, alternating until you can’t keep yourself silent anymore.

“Please, please stop before I— Oh, god!” you cry as Wooyoung slips his fingers inside you, curling them so tightly that it has you seeing stars. His thumb finds purchase on your clit again, never stopping his incessant rubbing, and you think you might pass out from the coil in your stomach building up, the pressure so tight that it really might take you out.

“Be good and let go for us,” San breathes into your ear, swirling his finger around your nipple, and that’s all it takes for you to spill over the edge, throwing your head back against San’s shoulder and clamping down on Wooyoung’s fingers.

Wooyoung works you through it until you’re begging him to stop, and the sight of your cum stringing on his fingers makes your cheeks burn with embarrassment. It drives you even more insane though when Wooyoung brings his fingers to San’s lips and they both murmur sounds of desire, and you watch entranced as San swirls his fingers around Wooyoung before he pulls them out with a pop.

Before you can even say anything, though, Wooyoung kisses San, slipping his tongue inside the other’s mouth and licking at his lips. You feel yourself getting wetter at the sight, entranced with the way their lips slot together so perfectly at the taste of you.

“So good,” San gasps out as Wooyoung pulls back, pressing another kiss against his lips before shifting his attention to you. San presses his lips against yours, making sure you taste yourself against him.

“You taste so sweet,” he starts, running his fingers through his hair, “So, so sweet. Let me fuck you, pretty. Please?”

Your chest pangs, suddenly aware of how badly you need something inside of you, and before you can even say yes, Wooyoung is pulling your skirt higher, up to your waist. It barely covers your ass now, and as San busies himself with freeing his dick, Wooyoung makes sure to show you just how much he appreciates you, groping at the skin of your ass until you beg for him to stop.

“You’re so hard,” Wooyoung comments when San finally pulls his dick out, and your mouth waters at the sight. He is hard, long, and curved, and the prominent vein on the underside makes you want to trace your tongue on it until he’s writhing beneath you.

“Can you blame me? They look like an angel sitting on my lap.”

You’re obsessed with the way they talk about you as if you aren’t physically present, just a plaything for their use. Your fingers trace San’s dick, thumbing over the vein, and he squirms, growing harder at the touch.

“I need you. Right now.”

Wooyoung helps position you so you’re hovering right over him, and when San stares at you for confirmation, your heart swells. You nod, knowing you could never, ever say no to him, and he lowers you down, spearheading you on his dick.

It’s not like you’re a virgin, but the way San rearranges your insides makes you feel like you’re losing your virginity all over again. He’s big, too big, and as you lower yourself on him, every inch feels like your body is adjusting to accommodate his length. Even if Wooyoung prepared you enough, San’s size is something you know will take a while to get used to.

After what feels like an eternity, you finally find yourself flush against him, ass pressed against his chest and legs situated around his. You exhale, finding that you held your breath in for so long in anticipation, and only when you feel the slight pain slip away do you signal San that you’re ready.

He helps you out by holding onto your shaking thighs, lifting you off halfway before you slam back down again. The action makes you both gasp, and as you stare at Wooyoung, wide-eyed, you know he’s just as turned on as the both of you.

You quickly build up a rhythm with San’s help, bouncing on him as you desperately try to reach your high again. The praise he whispers into your ear only spurs you on, rutting against him like this is your lifeline.

“You fight around me so tight,” he gasps, “Squeezing me in like you need me. It’s like you were made to be here. For us.”

Wooyoung groans from the other end, and as you meet his eyes again, the sight makes you water. He has his hand shoved inside his pants, palming himself needily as he focuses on the two of you, and you watch as his dick strains against his pants and his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Wooyoung,” you pant, “let me help you.”

“What?” he sputters, coming to a stop as he registers your voice.

“I can fit two. There’s room for one more.”

You spread your legs open wider, and Wooyoung moans at the way your pussy swallows San whole.

“Are you sure?” San puffs against your ear, “You’re already so tight against me.”

“And I can be even tighter with the two of you.”

You clench around San to prove your point, and he bites down on your shoulder to muffle his noises.

“God, okay,” Wooyoung says, succumbing to his desires, “turn around.”

You lift yourself off of San, already whining at the lack of something inside you, but it’s not long before you perch yourself on all fours and San’s sliding into you again. This time, however, you feel a second dick prod at you, and you moan shamelessly into the room.

“You sure about this?” Wooyoung asks.

“Please. I need you,” you respond, sticking your ass out further, and that’s all it takes before Wooyoung slides into you.

Wooyoung is shorter than San, but thicker, and even though it hurts like hell at first, San working you open earlier helps you adjust easily to the feeling of two dicks inside of you.

“Have you guys ever done this before?” you ask, suddenly curious about whether this is a new experience for them too.

“Never. It’s always been you, baby. Only you,” San says, pulling out before slamming back in again.

The three of you moan, the feeling of San’s dick rocking right next to Wooyoung’s making you feel out of this world. Wooyoung goes next, a rougher stroke than San’s, and as they alternate and work you open, you don’t think you could ever go back to regular sex again.

“You look so pretty like this,” San starts, palming your ass.

“Being fucked like a hole for us to use,” Wooyoung continues, slapping your skin. The pain shocks you, and you squeeze around them tighter, something you didn’t even think was possible, but their vocal reactions to it spur you on even more. They thrust into you harder, alternating and then fucking into you all at once, to the point where you can’t even register their rhythm anymore and all you can focus on is the way they fill you up.

It doesn’t take long before the knot in your stomach tightens again, and based on their slightly less calculated thrusts, you know that they’re close too. Perceptive as always, San’s hands find your clit again, exactly what you need to let go.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whisper, your thighs shaking.

“Us too,” Wooyoung responds, wildly fucking into you to reach his high. “Let go for us, baby.”

With one more circle of San’s fingers, you spill over, milking their dicks in a neverending orgasm. They fuck you through it, and Wooyoung holds your waist so you don’t collapse on them.

“Close, pretty,” Wooyoung starts, “where do you want us?”

“Inside,” you plead, “right where you belong.”

San comes with a gasp, emptying into you, and his release triggers Wooyoung’s as he follows suit. They fuck into you until they can’t anymore, pulling out of you and watching their cum drip down your thighs.

San cleans you up with a towel, and Wooyoung leaves the room to return with a glass of water, something you’re thankful for because quite honestly, you’re spent after being used so maniacally like that.

You kiss each of them once you’re done, situated against the edge of the bed with the two of them next to you like always. Wooyoung lights a singular joint with the weed left, and you share the roll between the three of you.

“I love you,” you whisper after a few moments of silence, and you feel Wooyoung squeeze your thigh, “I always have. I don’t know what this means for us, but I know I need the two of you.”

“We feel the same way,” San says, kissing your cheek. “We can take it one step at a time. Just know it’s always been you, and it always will be.”

You watch as Wooyoung takes a hit of the joint, the smoke swirling until it disappears into thin air. He takes another puff, but this time, he pulls you close, kissing you as he exhales the smoke into your mouth. Your lungs burn from the heavy smoke, but Wooyoung’s lips are far too consuming to even focus on the pain as you kiss back.

“We can worry about all that later. In the future, because we have all the time in the world together. For now, though,” he starts, dragging you onto his lap once again in a sick, twisted, form of deja vu, “maybe we can worry about round two.”

And as Wooyoung kisses you again and San finds purchase against the small of your back, you realize that they’re absolutely right. You may not know what the future holds, but for now, you can just count on your weed besties boyfriends to help you take your mind off it.

#꣑୧ . . . juyofans #atzhouse #choi san x reader #choi san #jung wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung #jung wooyoung smut #choi san smut #san #wooyoung #ateez x reader #ateez #ateez smut #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfiction #woosan x reader #woosan

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rachalixie · 1 year

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cotton candy

a/n: mine and @tasteleeknow's sleepy mumbley minho brainrot

you get home late and he’s already in bed, stage outfit exchanged for shorts and a large t-shirt, and stompy boots traded for fluffy socks that he curls his toes into. you can hear his soft breaths puffing out between his lips as you get closer, leaning forward to run a gentle hand through his hair. he nuzzles into your palm a bit, muttering unintelligible syllables before smacking his lips and rolling towards you, like he’s presenting himself for you to cuddle into.

you wonder if he’s dreaming of you. you hope so.

you leave him to strip your clothes and brush your teeth, ignoring the small whine he lets out when your touch leaves him. he’s so precious like this, completely unguarded without any reservations, showing his affection for you openly. he’s sweet and soft like cotton candy, all pastels and whimsical clouds, bursting with sugar on your tongue.

when you return to the bed he’s in the same position, one hand upturned towards where you left him, asking for you to come back. your heart swells to the point where you feel like it’s going to burst as you take him in, his sleep mussed hair making him look unbelievably adorable, his pouty lips begging for a kiss, his cheeks printed with marks from the pillow cover.

his eyelids flutter when you dip into the bed, prying open and revealing tired looking brown eyes that peer at you in wide blinks. he makes a grabby hand at you, whining your name and you feel your body sinking into his before you can even think. you pull the covers over the both of you, tucking it around his shoulders before settling down again, and he sleepily says thank you, mine before closing his eyes again. you press a soft kiss to his forehead and he smiles as his breaths even out again.

he continues to mumble, even with you there with him, nonsensical words mixed in with your name spilling from his mouth as you get drowsier and drowsier. you fall asleep to the sound of his mumbling, the only song that brings you enough comfort to feel safe.

—

soft hours

#stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #lee know fluff #lee know x reader #skz fluff #soft #skz soft hours #stray kids soft thoughts #stray kids drabbles

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seren1tyhaze · 1 year

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Dive

PAIRING: doyoung x afab reader (ft djj)

WORD COUNT: 8.9k (got a bit carried away)

SUMMARY: your best friend drags you out to a club to be her wingwoman as she meets back up with a stunning stranger and you cross paths with the hottest man you've ever seen in an expensive suit and a cross around his neck

THANK YOU: @strwbrysunday you know how important you've been in getting this across the finish line and you're a literal angel. thank you so much <3 thank you to all my friends who watched me brainrot over this over the past week and inspiring me to keep working on it with your positive words.

WARNINGS: explicit smut, smoking, drinking, drug reference, profanity, heavy religious imagery in a sexual setting (and I mean HEAVY - so if this is going to bother you, this isn't the fic for you)

PLAYLIST: Dive by DoJaeJung, Angel by NCT 127

This was clearly inspired by the Doyoung D&G promo images with the rosary and the rest was history...

I can dive, I'm diving into you

—

Ouch. You pinch your eyelash with the curler as you lean in closer to the glassy mirror in your best friend’s bathroom. You knew you should be wearing your contacts but had forgotten them at home and you weren’t going to hear the end of it from her if that was the excuse you had for ditching her for the night.

It had been an exhausting week at work but somehow your adorable firecracker of a platonic soulmate since childhood had dragged you to her apartment as soon as the clock hit 5:00PM in the co-working space your small start-up you both worked for shared with some other local environmental companies.

She had shed off her casual work clothes hours before, now wearing a glittery black dress, hugging her hips tightly, strings ruched up the side revealing plenty of thigh, covered with nude fishnets. You envied her long and bouncy locks that flowed down her back, reaching up to touch your straight hair that never cooperated with the curling iron.

“What is it?” she asked from behind you, catching you staring.

“Is there something on my dress?” she spun around, craning her head to look at her own ass in the mirror.

You started to speak before you realized she was showing off, dropping to the floor quickly before slowly standing again, shimmying her rear as she started to sway to the faint music coming from her living room.

You rolled your eyes with a huff, curling your other eye’s lashes and applying a few coats of mascara.

“Loosen up, angel,” she called back as she moved into her walk-in closet to select her shoes and handbag, using her pet name she had been calling you for years.

You finished up the rest of your makeup, cleaning up the little pile of products and packing them back neatly in their small pouch before examining yourself in the mirror. Your dark hair fell almost to your shoulders, eyes accentuated with smudged dark liner and cheekbones dusted with a bright coral blush that complimented the glossy color across your lips. You had let your best friend convince you to dress up more than you usually did, since she said the club you were going to tended to cater to a more affluent clientele.

A skin tight white leather crop top pushed your breasts up nicely and you had even let your friend dust some shimmering glitter across them with a large puff earlier. You smoothed the matching devastatingly short skirt and adjusted the lace up black boots that travelled up your long legs and over your knee. You felt confident in the outfit and only slightly uneasy about the night ahead. Your friend had a tendency to scan for her prey of the night the minute you entered a venue and often spent the night locking lips with half the dance floor or as she did the weekend before, dancing on stage with the burlesque dancers at the late night speakeasy.

Standing next to her as you both did final checks in the mirror, you looked like the moonlight and sunlight, night and day, devil and angel. A dangerous pair for any person to come across in a crowded club with these outfits, to say the least. You giggled as your friend planted a glossy kiss to your ear before pushing your hair back into place, following her out of the spacious apartment.

“WOO!” shrieked your friend, waving long fingernails at a tall, slender man leaning against a private booth tucked near the DJ. A warm grin spread across his plush lips and you couldn’t help it when your heart jumped a little in your chest. How your friend always found the most attractive people to surround herself always surprised you (not like you were complaining).

She had met Jungwoo the weekend before at a rave and had gabbed your ear off about the attractive and rich heir to a fortune who lived downtown in the middle of all the weekend excitement and had fed her drinks all night long while clutching onto her hips as they danced. She hadn’t gone home with him but instead had gotten his number and promised to meet him out the next weekend. The next weekend was now and out the two of you were.

Jungwoo was absolutely stunning, bright white hair damp, long, and hanging around his cheeks and across his forehead. He wore a sheer blouse unbuttoned halfway, exposing much of his toned chest and loose grey slacks that didn’t leave much to the imagination when he moved.

Taking careful steps through the crowd, you followed your friend who now had her hand held close to the lips of another man, this one dressed in the remains of an expensive suit, tie loose and sloppy around his neck with several buttons of a crisp pale blue shirt undone. He had dark hair slicked back to reveal his stunning face and his eyes glittered when he pulled them to yours to greet you.

“This is Jaehyun, Jungwoo’s roommate!” she giggled, a glass of champagne somehow already in her hand as she grinned at Jaehyun’s tender kiss to the back of her hand.

“Lovely to meet you, girls,” Jaehyun spoke deep and smoothly, his voice like velvet.

You cleared your throat with a small smile and shifted your weight in the uncomfortable shoes, eyes darting past the two men in front of you to a third seated in the booth.

Goosebumps instantly dotted your bare arms as you raked your eyes over one of the most attractive men you had ever seen. Even seated, you could tell he was tall with a broad frame. His hand was stretched out across his knee, high end designer fabric covering every inch of his body.

As if in slow motion, he lifted his head from his phone, placing it next to him to take a long sip from the short glass of dark liquid on the table in front of him. He brought his dark eyes up to meet yours and as soon as you made contact you watched his adam’s apple move in his throat, gulping as he peeled his eyes down your body.

You moved a hand to grip your other forearm, suddenly self conscious but equally intrigued, cocking your head slightly to the side. Your vision blurred briefly and you cursed yourself for not remembering your contacts as your loss of focus refused to let you make out the expression on the mystery man’s face.

“Doie - don’t be rude, say hi!” Jungwoo slurred out, taking a strong hand to the small of your back to guide you into the booth and directly next to Doyoung.

“Hi,” he spoke, quiet and soft, pulling his hand off his knee to extend a handshake to you.

You chuckled lightly and let him shake your hand, taking a moment to inspect him further now that you could see him better.

The white collared shirt under his suit jacket was tight (almost too tight) with the top buttons straining against the fabric enclosure. He had a soft jaw and plump lips, dark hair styled in a way that was kept but still messy in a sexy way. When he smiled his eyes crinkled in the corners and his neutral facial expression was hard to read when he wasn’t speaking.

You let your eyes wander down to his tight pants before shaking your head, begging your dirty mind to control itself. It hadn’t been that long since you had hooked up with a stranger at a bar but long enough to let your mind wander within minutes of meeting this man.

Doyoung reached across the table to pour you a glass of champagne from the bottle in the ice bucket and as he did, you noticed a glimmering chain around his neck. As he leaned further, you saw the small black beads on the chain catching the light and much to your surprise, a cross slipped into view briefly.

You sucked in a deep inhale at the sight - this man was wearing a fucking rosary around his neck.

Flashes of hours kneeling for Easter vigil mass, heavy clouds of incense in your face as you held the thurible in a floor length white robe, dark smudges on your forehead, and getting tipsy off communion wine in the church basement with your cousins flew across your mind as you watched him laugh at something Jaehyun said.

Jungwoo swore loudly as he dripped tequila across the table, attempting to pour five shots evenly. You can’t pull your eyes away from Doyoung, watching as he bows his head lightly, wincing ever so slightly at the curse words.

Who the fuck is this guy?

Taking a long drink from your champagne glass and tossing back the shot that is handed to you, you reach into your bag and dig out a carton of cigarettes, pulling the ashtray at the center of the table closer to you.

Pulling a loose stick with your lips, you instinctively gesture towards Doyoung who moves a hand quickly to decline. You shrug and move a bit closer to Jungwoo who is taking a long drag from a neon green vape. He chuckles and tosses his hair from his eyes as he watches the interaction.

“You’re better off making moves on Jae,” he says to you on his exhale. He tosses an arm around your shoulder, nudging your bare shoulder lightly with his thumb, cocking his chin up to draw your attention to a smiley Jaehyun swaying to the music, slightly off beat, as your friend tries to get him to salsa dance with her.

“Doyoung is a little more on the conservative side. Doesn’t smoke, doesn’t like getting high, barely gets drunk, takes his grandma to church on Sundays, all that,” Jungwoo adds, giving you a softer smile as he pulls your eyes into contact with his.

You narrow your own eyes slightly, not sure if this is some twisted attempt at reverse psychology to push you even more into the arms of his friend. While he was wearing the rosary, that didn’t necessarily scream “priest”. He was in a high end club’s most desirable VIP booth, surrounded by drinks and other substances, with two party boys that looked like models.

“Well he’s taken every shot that’s been poured for him, so I don’t know about that ‘not getting drunk’ part,” you quip back, taking a long drag from your cigarette and blowing it behind you through tightly pursed lips, intentionally avoiding Doyoung’s direction.

“Yeah he and Jaehyun lost some big account today, I think he’s just blowing off some steam. Plus he owes me,” Jungwoo winks as punctuation, making it apparent that he wasn’t going to elaborate on the end of that statement.

Throughout the night you learn that Doyoung and Jaehyun work at a big investment bank, Jaehyun sharing a small apartment with Jungwoo in the middle of all the city nightlife, the three of them having known each other since they were kids. Doyoung seemed to have never moved on from their strong faith-based formative years, holding onto these ideals even years later and still an active member of his family’s church community. When he checks the time on his phone you see the smiling face of an older woman pushed up against his, assuming this to be the grandmother Jungwoo mentioned before.

He’s quiet as you chat with him, having to do most of the talking, but is kind and puts some of your nerves at ease even when your friend is off in the middle of the dance floor doing god knows what with god knows who.

Despite his reserved nature, you feel his eyes trained on your every move, following your lips and hands as you smoke another cigarette, the way you cross and uncross your legs with ease, despite the short skirt that has a tendency to ride up when you wiggle in your seat.

You watch him in the same way he watches you, the way his hair falls into his eyes every once and a while and instead of pushing it away with his hand, he shakes his head lightly, flicking his eyes up as if to chastise the loose strands. When he leans forward to take a sip of his drink or gesture to the waitress, his toned chest is exposed by the undone buttons on his shirt.

As much as you hate to admit it, his very presence is intoxicating and it’s affecting you more than you would like. Goosebumps crop up on your arms and you suddenly feel chilled in the warm room, sending a shiver down your spine.

A loud laugh draws your attention across the booth and you are met with the sight of your friend feverishly making out with Jaehyun, sandwiched between him and Jungwoo who has his hand up the hem of her dress, laughing into her neck.

You whip your head back towards Doyoung, giving an awkward smile to him before the chill sets over you again. You train your gaze downwards, examining the patterned carpet on the floor and the laces on your thigh high boots, picking at the edge of the string. You startle at the feeling of fabric being draped over your shoulders, looking up to see that Doyoung has placed his suit jacket around your shoulders.

He keeps his arm wrapped around your shoulder after placing the jacket and you suddenly feel an additional set of eyes on you as you lift up to meet Jaehyun’s gaze. He’s staring at your slightly spread legs, running a wicked tongue across his bottom lip as it quirks up into a wry smile.

You feel Doyoung’s grip around your shoulder tighten and turn to see his face close to yours, your heart jumping in your chest when you feel his breath across your cheek. You can’t bear to break eye contact with him, despite the fact that you desperately wish you could see Jaehyun’s reaction.

“You seemed cold,” he murmurs to you, lips almost brushing across your skin as he speaks close to your ear. He smells delicious, like soft musk but still clean and warm. You mentally take note to slyly ask Jungwoo what cologne his friend wears.

“Thank you,” is all you can muster and you resist the urge to drop your head to his shoulder, suddenly feeling lightheaded in the haze of alcohol, nicotine, and the blaring music of the club.

Doyoung reaches to the table for his glass, arm never leaving your shoulder, rolled shirt sleeve revealing a large and intricate cross tattoo on his forearm. At the sight of the ink you are jolted back to the reality that this man is not who you want him to be. You would normally have a hand palming his groin in the dim lights of the club, moaning into his mouth as he gripped the exposed skin on your back and whispered filthy strings of words into your ear.

But no, you had to bag the “Holier than Thou, Man of God.” Of course you did. This was not going to be good for your libido.

Your friend is suddenly dragging you by the hand to the bathroom, moving surprisingly fast in her towering heels.

“Sooooooooo, angel,” she whines from the single use stall she pulled you into after locking the door.

“What are you about to ask me to do?” you sigh, fixing your hair in the mirror as your friend hikes up her dress to pee.

“I’m going to take those two home with me,” she bluntly tells you, as you predicted.

“Yeah I think anyone in this club could have told me that,” you reply, rolling your eyes for dramatic effect. You didn’t really care what she did, only frustrated now that you had to make the hike home in an expensive taxi or wait for the unreliable train service.

“It’s fine, babe, I’ll get home okay,” you add, mustering the sweetest tone you can for your oldest friend. She deserved to blow off steam as much as next person, but you loved staying over at her luxury apartment on the weekends and the lazy mornings you spent sipping homemade cappuccinos and doing face masks.

“You’re the BESTTTT!” she nearly shouts, throwing her arms around you, damp hands fresh from washing them in the sink getting your skin wet. You laugh at her, congratulating her on getting her dick wet and ushering her out of the small room with a smack to her ass.

Back at the booth she wastes no time murmuring in the ears of the two eager men before they share a steamy three way kiss that results in Jungwoo tugging Jaehyun’s bottom lip with his teeth, looping an arm around his slim waist.

You are flicking through the various ride share apps on your phone to find the cheapest option, boots feeling uncomfortably tight on your feet after a long night. Last thing you want to do in this outfit is sit on an empty train and make the long walk uphill to your apartment complex once you arrive at your stop.

“What are you doing?” Doyoung asks, face suddenly close to yours again. There’s a level of concern in his eyes that you cannot read when he speaks to you.

“Calling for a car home, I don’t have the luxury of living right here downtown and had plans to crash at hers. I’m assuming my job doesn’t pay as well as yours and Jae’s,” you reply, only lifting your eyes up to meet his after you’ve spoken.

God his eyes are so pretty.

“Why don’t you stay at mine, I can sleep on the couch and my driver can take you home in the morning,” he offers, picking your phone out of your hand and locking the screen.

You open your mouth in protest before thinking more on the offer. His driver?! You would be crazy to turn him down and your friend is already halfway out the door headed towards what will undoubtedly be a night to remember.

You nod and quickly stand, holding a hand out for his, guiding him out the back door of the club. He’s making a call on his phone in a hushed tone while you slide your long coat over his blazer, still wrapped around your shoulders, Jungwoo giving you a small smile and wiggle of his fingers as he slides into the back of a cab.

“I love you angellllll,” your friend slurs out dramatically, knowing she is far less drunk than she appears, playing up the antics for the men around her. Jaehyun has an arm tucked loosely around her waist, grinning ear to ear as the evening wind ruffles his dark hair.

You pull your friend in for a hug before she ducks into the car, latching her lips immediately onto Jungwoo’s exposed neck, drawing a chuckle from you on the street.

Jaehyun pauses before getting in the car, dipping down to whisper right along the shell of your ear.

“Angel is it? I don’t know about that,” he practically moans out, voice breathy and deep.

“Seemed like a devil in disguise in that tight little skirt, slutty legs spread in the club for our sweet and innocent Doie,” he laughs out, laying the degrading tone on thick. His finger is under your chin, tipping it up to force you to look at him. Your heart is pounding and flying around your chest and you can feel your cheeks burn.

Suddenly there’s a hand on your back and you don’t have to look to know that Doyoung has stepped up behind you.

Jaehyun gives you a wink, pushing past you to plant a lingering kiss on Doyoung’s cheek, before turning and disappearing into the car.

Before you can say anything to Doyoung, a black town car replaces the cab in its spot on the busy street, Doyoung moving quickly to open the door for you, helping you in with a strong hand. He closes the door softly before moving around to the street side to slide in next to you, greeting the driver in the front pleasantly.

Your head is spinning and you desperately hope there is time to have a cigarette before going upstairs to Doyoung’s apartment, feeling anxiety creeping up in your chest.

Despite the spacious backseat, Doyoung can’t help but be pressed up against you, twisting to look at you as you make small talk. You watch him when he answers questions you ask and listen to a small story about a frustrating email exchange at work, as if the two of you had known each other forever.

Distracted by the beaded chain around his neck again, you reach over, taking the cross gingerly in between your pointer and middle finger, inspecting it. The metal is cold in your hand and nostalgia rushes over you as you hold it in your hand.

“I dip it in holy water every morning to help keep me grounded and ask that God bless my daily travels,” he offers, smiling lightly at you as he explains in earnest. You know by now that he isn’t lying, that there would be no reason for him to.

“I kiss it as well, asking him to bless my words and calm my mind in a world filled with temptation,” he continues, unwilling to break the heavy eye contact.

He reaches out and draws your fingers to his lips, still holding the cross, and kisses the small metal piece, catching the tips of your fingers with soft lips. They are warm and plush, sending jolts of electricity through your hand and to your chest. You have to shift in your seat to calm the throbbing in your core. This gesture shouldn’t be turning you on this much and you know now that if there is a hell, you surely are destined to take residence there.

The tension in the car is thick as you shiver, hand moving before you have a chance to think, bringing his hand and yours to your own lips, copying his kiss. You watch him gulp and pull his bottom lip in between his teeth as his eyes darken at the sight of the cross pressed to your lips.

Oh you are so royally fucked.

You watch him as he absently brushes the back of his hand against your own in the elevator ride to the top floor of the sleek and modern building. He lets his fingers tangle with yours briefly before holding his hand out when the door starts to open, bringing the foyer of his apartment into view.

You let a gasp fall from your lips, taking in the beautiful space around you. Lights flick on as you reach down to release the knot holding the laces of your boots in place, stepping out of them carefully by steadying yourself on a small table adorned with realistic looking fake flowers.

You try to keep your boots tidy under the coat rack, slipping off your coat and hanging it up and checking yourself in the small mirror above hooks of dangling keys. You notice one key with a Kuromi cover, smiling lightly and wondering if he had picked that out for himself. He will tell you one day that it is the key to his mailbox and one of the kids from his Sunday school class brought it in for him after they said Kuromi reminded them of Doyoung.

You follow him to the open living area which melts into the compact kitchen adorned with granite countertops and stainless steel appliances. He’s opening the door to the fridge, pulling out a pitcher of water and pouring two glasses.

The apartment is warm but minimalistic in style, adorned with shades of cream, black and gray. You half expect to see a statue of Mary where the tv sits but there’s barely any religious imagery present. Maybe you had misjudged him after all.

As you close the space between you, you let his blazer slip from your shoulders, catching it and folding it gently in your hands, looking up towards him through your long lashes as you lean your hip against the cold edge of the counter, offering the blazer to him. Instead of taking the jacket from your hands, he leans forward, brushing a thumb across the high point of your cheek, examining your face.

“Let me know if there is anything I can get you to feel more at home, I want you to feel comfortable,” he murmurs, eyes flicking down briefly to your lips before meeting your gaze again.

You feel butterflies in your chest and despite how tired you know you should be, your heart is pounding and core tightening at how close he stands to you in his beautiful apartment, finally able to hear his voice clearly without the sounds of the club or busy streets of the city. It’s velvety smooth and even and his lips tip up at the edges when he finishes his kind statement. You want desperately to push up and capture them in yours but instead nod slowly, taking one of the glasses of water into your hand gulping down some of the cool liquid to try to quell the arousal building within you.

He brushes your skin with his thumb once more before taking the jacket from you, moving to his bedroom and returning moments later with a couple pillows and a large blanket, which he leaves on the plush couch.

“I don’t mind just sleeping out here,” you offer, scanning the comfortable looking room, knowing if you slept in the living room you might be able to more easily slip out unnoticed in the morning. You’ve never been one for tender mornings in bed with a one night stand and this situation shouldn’t be treated any different. You don’t believe he will actually make any move beyond what he has, despite the brief intimate moments you’ve shared since stepping out of the club.

“No no, I insist, take my bed. The bedding was just changed this morning,” he makes sure to note and you realize how rich this man truly must be if he avoided mentioning who exactly changed the sheets. Surely not Doyoung, with his thousands of dollars of clothing and jewelry on his body and on-call car service and penthouse suite.

He moves to open the door to the balcony, cool but comfortable night air flooding the living room as he hands you a vintage glass ashtray from the media cabinet.

“In case you need one before you go to sleep or in the night,” he offers, smiling lightly at the shocked look on your face.

“Jungwoo is always hanging around here when I’m working late and I’ve learned there is no way to stop people from doing something they want to do. I can’t change my friends and I wouldn’t want to. I have things in my life and things I have removed from my life but that is my own decision and shouldn’t affect my relationships with those I love,” he adds, fingers brushing over yours as they make contact to pass the item to you.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll take a shower quickly and then let you have the bedroom and bathroom. If you need it, there’s a toilet near the elevator and some fresh fruit in the fridge,” he continues, resisting the urge to brush his lips over your bare shoulder.

You thank him and take your purse out to the balcony, closing the door lightly behind you but making sure it latches fully. Stepping forward towards the edge of the balcony, you quickly light a cigarette and feel calm wash over you as you watch the flickering lights of the city skyline. The cool air feels good against your cheeks and exposed abdomen, needing desperately to cool down. You try (and fail) to not let your mind wander to thoughts of Doyoung in a steamy rainfall shower, steam gathering on glossy mirrors and hot water racing down toned biceps and thighs.

You burn through it eagerly, extinguishing the cigarette in the ashtray and disposing of it in a small bin attached to the balcony’s railing before heading back inside. Doyoung is emerging from his bedroom in a tight white tank top and loose grey sweatpants, bare feet padding across the plush throw rug.

“I left you some clothes and towels on the bed but help yourself to my closet if you need something warmer,” he mutters awkwardly, the power balance shifting slightly as he stands in front of you in casual clothes, black rosary still visible proudly on his chest.

“I’ll wash up, if that’s okay? If you’re tired and want to sleep, don’t worry about waiting for me to finish. I usually stay up pretty late and I’m sure you have early mornings,” you ramble, scratching at the back of your neck, suddenly feeling nervous.

“Take your time, I usually read for a while before bed,” he gestures to a small leather bound bible on the coffee table. Of course he does.

In the shower, you let the water rush over your body, using some of the small skincare bottles to wash your face and step out, massaging shower oil into your damp skin. You sigh into the warm white towel fresh off the warming rack and feel like you’re living in a dream.

Can’t I just stay here forever?

You know your modest apartment waits for you a few miles away, with your own much smaller and dingier balcony where you like to sketch in your journal as you watch birds settle on the hanging flower baskets. You could never see yourself living full time in the cold of the city, barely any green space and garbage littering the streets.

Checking outside the bathroom door before emerging, the coast is clear as you step back into his spacious bedroom, lightly touching the clothing he had laid out for you. A large and faded t-shirt that appears to be from a church camp is folded neatly, logo barely still visible.

A package of unopened cotton boxer briefs is next to the shirt, knowing he must have been panicking thinking of how he could offer you something to wear without it seeming creepy. But he seems to at least have experience taking care of stranded tipsy guests (even if they usually were just Jungwoo and someone he brought home from the bar). You pull the shirt over your head and it falls easily to your mid-thigh, skimming over your hardened nipples, painful as they make contact with the cool air from the vent.

Sliding on the boxers, you pull them up to your waist and the shirt covers them fully. You decide against the sweatpants next to the shirt, knowing they will be far too long for you and opt to instead roll on the pair of long socks before placing the pants back on the dresser. You listen at the door for any noise from the living room, hearing a light hum of music you can’t decipher. Pressing your ear closer you recognize Debussy floating through the air and let out a small smile.

You’re about to tuck yourself into the king sized bed before you realize you didn’t bring the water glass in with you. Scanning the room you don’t see one and silently curse yourself.

Sliding the door open quietly, you stick your head out tentatively, his head lifting to look at you. He looks absolutely adorable, bundled up in a fluffy blanket with his small bible in his lap and two scented candles lit on the table. The music did turn out to be Debussy, playing softly on a record player in the corner.

“Is the music too loud?” he asks, moving as if he is going to turn it off.

“No no, it’s beautiful,” you breathe out in reply, sliding out from the door and covering your chest with your arms, self conscious. This causes the hem of the shirt to hike up, exposing a sliver of the white briefs covering your lower half.

Doyoung’s eyes trail down your body, as if wanting to mentally capture this image of you dressed in his clothes, standing sheepishly in front of him. He pushes away thoughts of you on your knees in front of him, mouthing along his length through his sweatpants while he tugs on your silky and damp hair.

“I, um, just came out for some water,” you add, crossing to the counter to grab the glass before returning to stand awkwardly next to the couch.

“Why does she call you angel?” he asks suddenly, pulling an arm up on the back of the couch, unintentionally opening up a perfect sized space for you to sit next to him.

You smile lightly and cross to sit next to him, perching on the edge of the cushion so as to not crowd him.

“My middle name is Angelica,” you replied softly. “She just took a liking to the pet name many years ago.”

He smiles softly at this explanation, suddenly aware that his other hand has strayed to the hem of his shirt hanging loose on your torso.

“Angel…” he tries, feeling the way it sounds in his voice, feeling the way the words taste as they roll off his tongue. He smirks, pinching the fabric at the edge of the shirt in between his fingers and releasing it.

“Can I call you that?” he breathes out, suddenly closer to your face than you had realized.

“Only if you’re a good boy,” you manage to say in an even tone, hand finally reaching out to touch his chest, flattening against his toned pecs, metal beads digging into your palm.

His eyes flutter, brain clearly short circuiting at the mention of praise, fingers stilling but breathing becoming more labored.

“Can I please kiss you?” you ask, eyes and voice hopeful. You palm the cross on the rosary, holding it tightly in your hand as you pull gently, bringing yourself closer to Doyoung as your eyes slip shut, not waiting for a response.

His lips are on yours suddenly, pressing firmly as his hand flies to your lower back, pressing you flush against his chest, capturing your hand in between your bodies. You refuse to let go of the rosary, pulling tighter so he’s forced to deepen the kiss.

You feel his hand push up the back of the shirt and up your back, as if reaching for a bra to unhook and you can’t help but smile against his mouth, knowing he is far less innocent than he seems.

You rise up on your knees, moving your legs to straddle him on the couch, suddenly feeling something firm against your bare thigh. Your grin grows, nuzzling against his nose teasingly.

“Well, well, look who isn’t such a good boy after all,” you growl out, unable to control how horny you are for this man under you.

He pulls back, breaking the kiss, brows furrowed in confusion at your comment. Reaching between your bodies, he pulls out the leather bible and you flush deeply, unable to process that you thought it was his erection.

You avert your eyes from his and reach an arm up to touch the back of your neck nervously but his hand quickly grabs your wrist as he moves your hand to his lap, eyes darkening. When he pushes you down against his sweatpants you feel him harder than you thought he would be, not to mention way bigger than you thought he would be.

“Who said I was a good boy, angel?” he asked quietly, almost sounding annoyed with you. He grips your wrist tighter, pulling you closer to him before capturing your lips in his again.

It takes you a moment to respond, brain foggy at the name and sequence of events that had just unfolded. It doesn’t take you long to recover before slipping your tongue into his mouth hungrily, fingers lacing his hair to pull him desperately close.

You can’t help but move quickly with him, spreading your thighs to grind slow circles into his clothed crotch, biting back moans that bubble in your throat.

Hands are suddenly tugging at the hem of the shirt and you quickly oblige, peeling off the thin cotton and discarding it on the floor. Your chest is heaving as you sit on his lap in just the white boxer briefs, nipples erect and back arched to push your full chest towards him.

Doyoung hungrily licks his lips, eyes darting over your body as if there’s a time limit to the amount of time he has to look. You know you look good and he knew from the minute he saw you walk in the club that you would be on his lap, tits bouncing as he pressed up towards you with an experimental thrust. A small groan slides from his spit slicked lips as he slides one hand to your lower back and the other to cup your breast.

“Good God,” he lets out before lowering his mouth to your nipple, flicking eyes up to watch as you tumble contrasting curses from your plump lips.

He moves his mouth expertly, tongue laving over the sensitive skin, teeth dragging against your tight nipple. His hand on your lower back feels huge, fingers spread wide and gripping at your flesh as if you will disappear if he loosens his grip.

“Fuck me right here,” you can’t help but mutter into his open mouth after a particularly loud gasp flies from your mouth when you feel the tip of his dick collide with your clothed clit.

He pulls back, face seemingly questioning himself, eyes flicking over to the coffee table with the bible before turning upwards and fluttering shut.

You’re amazed at how this man can have his tit in your mouth one minute and then the next…

“Wait, are you praying?!” you ask in shock, stifling the laughter that builds in your throat.

He peeks at you with one eye open, smiling lightly before closing his eyes again and humming out an incoherent reply.

“Amen,” he says softly after a few more moments have passed.

You don’t have time to question him further when he quickly pulls his shirt over his head, revealing tight and toned abs and letting his broad chest crowd you in what could only be described as a bear hug. He pulls you close to his chest and you can feel his heartbeat reverberating through your own skin.

“The angel wants to get fucked, does she?” he growls as he digs his nails into your back.

“Let’s see what we can do about that,” he adds before flipping you over suddenly, standing above you as he slides the boxers down to your ankles, leaving your socks on.

He then moves his hands to his own waistband, removing the sweatpants and revealing his hard cock, already flushed and angry with arousal. As he bends down, the rosary dangles from his neck and you can’t help but stare.

You’re laid out, exposed in front of him as he drops to his knees, nudging your knees to widen in front of him. Your eyes are wide as you watch him, controlling and calculated. You have to ask yourself the same question you asked in the club, who the fuck was this guy?

“You asked if I was praying earlier,” he speaks quietly, long fingers dragging along your sensitive inner thigh, avoiding where you want him the most.

“I just like to thank God before I eat,” he adds, eyes glimmering with mischief as he pushes forward, tongue licking a long stripe along your dripping core, sending shockwaves throughout your body.

Your brain is swimming with pleasure at the filthy words he spoke and the way his mouth is warm against your burning core, tugging on his hair and slipping your hand down to his neck to stroke the shorter strands there to encourage him.

His muffled moans send vibrations along your folds and shivers up your spine as he laps at you like it’s the fucking last supper. You feel your release close, thighs pulling in to tighten around his face. He shoves them back open every time they threaten to suffocate him, giving him access to every inch of you.

Your orgasm creeps up on you and you are suddenly screaming his name, head thrown back on the back of the couch, vision blinding white. Your eyes are clenched shut as you make every attempt to slow your heavy breathing.

You feel warm hands under your thighs and realize he's lifting you from the couch. You let your arms fall lazily around his shoulders and your head loll over as he carries you to the bedroom. Laying you gently on your back, he’s suddenly leaning over you, lips brushing against your jaw, peppering kisses up to your ear and leaving more along your hairline.

“That was heavenly,” you sigh out, feeling dizzy from the soft gestures.

He smiles and pushes your hair from your face, leaning down to kiss you. You can’t get enough of his lips, every time they press over yours you’re drawn in closer, wanting more and more.

“I know you said you wanted me to fuck you on the couch and as much as I would love to bend you over and slam into you, I want to see your face when I make you cream on my dick,” he says as if it’s the simplest and most normal sentence on the planet. He sits up, reaching a veiny hand over to the bedside table and into the shallow drawer there.

Your mouth hangs open for a moment until you feel his fingers on you again, rubbing slow circles on you, gathering your post orgasm arousal as he tears open a condom that is carefully dangling between his lips. He slicks up his rock hard erection with your wetness before sliding it on and running a hand through his now messy hair.

You adjust yourself on the bed, propping your knees up so he can crawl between them. He brings his face close to yours and drags his tongue lazily against your lower lip before pushing into you.

Your eyes widen, feeling the stretch of his massive cock and the look on his face when he finally feels himself inside you. You swear he’s seen the second coming of Christ and you wish you could take a picture of the pure bliss.

It doesn’t take long for him to pick up a consistent pace of pumping in and out of you, grunts and moans falling from his lips and sounding almost like he’s singing. You almost come at the sight of the rosary dangling above you and moving with each thrust, knowing how fucking filthy this is but how it’s the most turned on you’ve been in ages.

He’s close and you don’t know how much longer you can last after him so you hook your legs around his back and push on him, silently begging to flip over. He obliges and lets you return to a similar position from the couch, him seated against the pillows and you rising up and down on his cock. This drives you insane, watching his face contort in pleasure as you ride him, letting his name fall over and over from your lips like your own prayer.

“Angel, I’m so close,” he moans, pulling you so tight against his chest that you feel yourself becoming one with him. You move together, moan together, and release in strangled cries together.

You pull back, out of breath and struggling to compose yourself, glancing down at your chest to see an imprint of the cross in between swollen breasts. He has a hazy, happy grin across his face and you know you have to look the same in this moment.

He reaches out, brushing pads of his fingers across the imprint on your chest before dipping down to kiss at the cross mark.

You think your heart might explode in that very moment, suddenly visualizing the two of you holding hands in a church pew or leaning over candles, lighting them and bowing your heads in silence.

What the fuck has gotten into you?

–

Once he finishes tucking the plush duvet around your naked body, he lays flat on his back, exhaling in relaxation for what sounded like the first time that night, and humming out an almost angelic note.

“And on the seventh day, God looked at all he had made and rested from the work he had done,” Doyoung paraphrased, grinning at his joke, turning slightly to nuzzle his face into your bare shoulder.

Your cheeks warmed and eyes welled as you watched your dark haired lover drift off into sleep, arms laying beside him, not clinging to you as they had been all night, as if fully relaxed at how you seemingly fit so easily into his bed, into his life.

Checking the time, you unlock your phone, lower the brightness, and fire off a couple check-in texts to your friend and one to your mother asking if you completed your sacraments as a child and if she knows where your old prayer book is. You can’t believe this man is reigniting this in you and while you know no amount of good sex is going to fully pull you back into a toxic institution, you see the good in him and wonder if there is a world where the two of you can balance his faith and your more progressive views.

The next morning comes quicker than you had anticipated and light is streaming through the sheers covering the floor to ceiling windows. You glance over to see a still sleeping Doyoung, surprised once you check the time, knowing he probably starts his day at the office before you. You check your phone, frustrated at how quickly it will soon be the time when your boss is checking in to see if you are working from home or coming into the office. You send off a quick message to let them know you will have a late start to the day, working from your apartment.

They reply with a teasing tone, noting that you and your friend must have gotten into some fun the night prior since she had called off entirely. Oh boy, couldn’t wait to hear about that.

You roll over, seeing Doyoung’s eyes open in narrow slits, running a wet tongue over his dry lips.

“Morning star,” he smiles at you, placing that same strong hand on your lower back, pulling you gently closer to him.

“Hi,” you squeak out, giggling as his fingers brush lightly over your spine, tickling you.

“Can I make you coffee?” he asks, pressing lips softly to your temple, holding there and breathing in the scent of your hair, still faintly holding the floral notes from his shampoo.

“You don’t have morning prayers to get to?” you tease, pushing your lips towards his, silently asking for a kiss.

He pulls back, knitting his brows together and almost rolling his eyes.

“You really have me all wrong you know,” he starts, pushing strands of hair from your face before cupping your cheek gently, just as he had in the kitchen last night when you first got back.

“Yes, I have my beliefs and values that ground me. But that doesn’t mean I abstain from every activity marked as a sin in the bible,” he continued, his voice even and strong but not mean.

“I would have thought that would have been obvious by everything we did last night,” he added, pressing a little more firmly on your lower back, gliding his palm down to the slope of your ass to grasp at the skin there.

You gulp audibly, startled by his candid admission. Maybe you did have him all wrong. Maybe you judged this book by the cover too quickly, your opinion shadowed by everything you knew from the devout adults you had grown up around. You had always assumed it was black and white, no gray space between for any compromise.

All you could do in that moment, overcome with emotions you weren’t quite ready to acknowledge, was pull him close to you and connect your hips with his to slowly create friction between the two of you. You hungrily captured his lips in yours, sighing into him as his fingers gently tugged your hair and brought you to another two unholy orgasms.

–

You don’t bother showering again, opting to take Doyoung up on that ride home from his driver who arrives in less than fifteen minutes, despite the morning rush hour traffic. You’re soon stepping out onto the busy streets, feet back in those painful boots and coat wrapped tightly around you to cover your revealing outfit you still can’t believe you wore out all night (but probably have to thank for this entire encounter).

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t a lost little angel!” comes a familiar voice, catching you as you are approaching the black car, the driver standing with a neutral expression waiting to open the door for you.

“Jungwoo, hey,” you start, stepping towards the man who is placing his motorcycle helmet on the seat, arms crossed as he leans gently against the expensive bike.

He’s wearing low rise leather pants with a matching belt adorned with a large silver buckle. His jacket is open and you can see a tight and cropped red shirt underneath, exposing much of his toned abs and navel. Nude color blocking rose up the sides of the shirt, covered in black crescent moons and he is wearing a stack of gold chains tight around his neck. A large green stone is dangling from his ear, moving as he speaks.

His hair is fluffy from the helmet, eyes smudged lightly with dark liner, most likely still from the night before. He looks absolutely unreal and your mind drifts to images of your friend pressed between him and the equally sexy Jaehyun in the crowded bar, stirring tension deep in your core.

“How was your night?” you add, stepping closer to him, curious about what your friend had gotten into.

“I’m sure just as sinful as yours by the look of this walk of shame,” he almost sneers back, tone unmatched to the large grin covering his face from his lips to his eyes. He grabs your phone from you and punches his number in, punctuating with a sultry wink. His eyes are flicking up and down your body dramatically, making overly exaggerated facial expressions at you.

You roll your eyes at him, turning to head to the car, wagging your fingers at him seductively and putting extra emphasis in your steps as you know he has his eyes glued to your ass as you slide into the car.

When Doyoung emerges from the shower with a towel tied low around his waist he finds Jungwoo lounging in his favorite chair in the living room, flipping through a magazine he had left here the week before. He looks up to make eye contact with Doyoung, smiling and letting a low whistle slide out his lips.

“Don’t start, Woo,” Doyoung warns curtly, pouring two cups of coffee and preparing them the way they both like.

“Look look, I have Father Lee on speed dial, he’s ready to do an emergency confession for you in the lobby of your office if you need it this morning,” he laughs back, closing the magazine and accepting the mug.

Doyoung rolled his eyes, resisting the urge to reach over and slap the back of Jungwoo’s head. He knows his friend is exaggerating but he had consequently already sent Mark a text that he would stop by the church later that day for a chat. Having one of your oldest friends be a priest that was known for being more on the liberal side had its perks.

“Just because I don’t flaunt my escapades all over town or upload racy videos into the shared DJJ iCloud album, doesn’t mean I’m not getting my dick wet,” he replies after a long sip of much needed coffee.

Jungwoo almost spits out his coffee at the vulgar comment, lips twisting up into a wicked smile as he watches his friend, relaxed and shirtless mid-morning on a work day.

“Something’s different about you, Kim Doyoung,” Jungwoo chuckles, tapping back into his conversation with Jaehyun from earlier, who had frantically texted him from the office that Doyoung hadn’t shown up for their morning meeting and wasn’t replying to any of his texts.

“I guess you could say I was touched by an angel,” Doyoung replies wickedly, winking at Jungwoo before standing and letting his towel fall from his hips, whipping it at leather clad knees before walking slowly back into the bedroom.

Jungwoo’s eyes widen and a smile spreads across his face, watching his friend’s toned ass move away from him and examining the red marks dotting his broad back.

“Oh Jaeeeeee, I have an idea for something that could be fun and oh so messy,” Jungwoo whispers into the phone as he steps out onto the balcony, lighting a blunt in the cool morning air, surrounded by the sounds of the bustling city below.

Part Two TEASER + Tag List NOW LIVE HERE

#doyoung smut #doyoung x reader #nct smut #nct x reader #nct fanfic #religious trauma slay #djj x reader #djj smut #jungwoo smut #jaehyun smut

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onlyswan · 1 year

Text

summary: in which alcohol plus k-drama is equals to your and jungkook’s tears.

> fluff / wc: 4k

> warnings: oc’s first attempt at becoming a pro bartender lmao they both drink alcohol!!, alchemy of souls spoilers!! (they watch the ending of part 2), mention of a stab and blood, they cry over character deaths together >:( (sike?) maybeee a little surprise bc jk is so in love y’all idk what else to say </3 💍

note: welcome to the result of my jungkook + aos brainrot. you can read more of inwhich!jk in glasses in this drabble. :D thank you anonie who sent this ask! + as always i’d appreciate it a lot if you lmk if you enjoyed mwamwa <3

—

“i miss my boyfriend.” you sigh dramatically as you slump over the dining table, popping a vodka-soaked cherry in your mouth.

despite being hopelessly in love, you and jungkook don’t necessarily feel obliged to spend every second of every day with each other. of course, it was different at the early stages of your relationship, when you had to cross oceans and move mountains to spend time together, even if it meant hugging for only ten minutes and parting ways again.

however, things changed when you started living under one roof. the burning passion of your love isn’t dying down, no. in fact, you would go as far as saying that it is growing more gracefully ardent. after all, there is no greater peace than knowing that at the end of the day, wherever the street signs and the unmarked paths may lead you to, you and jungkook choose to come home to each other’s arms. is this not the real honeymoon phase, as they like to call it?

he left early this sunday morning to attend a small reunion with his childhood friends in busan, while you spent the day reading a book and painting the numbers one to ten of the little paint by numbers kit you stumbled upon at the book store last week.

it’s a sunny day on an abundant island, with a lighthouse standing close to the edge. and maybe, just maybe, you regret ignoring the simple flower bouquet beside it because the details drawn on this canvas are the literal definition of tiny. you ended up feeling dizzy by afternoon because of the strain it caused to your fucked up vision.

to make matters worse, the doorbell rung at around 5pm, and a minute later you were already unboxing the basics cocktail set you ordered two days ago. it includes a 18- and 28-ounce shaker set, jigger that has a dual-side (ounce and two-ounce) pourers, strainer, muddler, and bar spoon.

to summarize what you’ve been doing with your life lately: you’re trying to explore the random things you’ve always been curious about, in hopes that they’ll help you find new hobbies and interests.

you thought about baking, but jungkook already does that, and quite frankly, you’re not at a place in your life where you have a high capacity for the patience it requires. mixing drinks, on the other hand, takes a relatively shorter time to do. and what makes it even more enticing is that you can take a shot whenever you mess up, as if you’re playing a drinking game.

there’s no better way to spend your sunday evening, right?

“baby, why the hell are all the alcohol outside of the cabinets?”

right… except you’re already intoxicated… and the world is spinning. you’re desperately yearning to hug jungkook, so he can make it stop, but you’re not even sure if he’s coming home or he’s staying over at his parent’s house for the night.

you react belatedly to the confused voice, lifting your head to squint at the man who grabbed a bottle of white wine from the cluttered countertop.

“hey, who are you? the bar is closed. put that down.”

he laughs lightheartedly when he realizes how drunk you’ve gotten. as he places it back down, the bottle clinks against the cold white stone. your heavy head collapses on top of your outstretched arm as he walks towards the opposite side of the dining table.

you open your eyes, one before the other, when you feel a presence hogging your space. a sheepish smile curves your lips as the beautiful face of your dear beloved greets you.

jungkook’s prescription glasses moves with his scrunched up nose as he grins at you playfully. “it’s the boyfriend you said you were missing.”

you reach out for him as soon as he finishes saying the sentence, silently asking to be embraced. slaves to your touch — his hands, which are resting on the sharp edge of the table and the top rail of your chair, eagerly slip down to encircle your waist.

you lazily lean your cheek on his shoulder, revelling in his welcoming body warmth. “why are you back early? aren’t you tired? you should’ve just rested at your house.”

“mhmm, i had to.” he hums, deep and raspy voice making his chest vibrate against yours. “we talked about marriage and all that jazz. i couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

with an airy huff, you pull away to glare up at him childishly. “i sure hope you’re not thinking about anybody else.”

he runs his tongue across his lips, unconsciously tugging at the silver lip ring with his teeth, but his loving smile stays. “you know that you’re the only one for me.”

“still! i like to hear it from you sometimes.” you giggle before taking a sip from a cold glass of cherry limeade, a refreshing treat you’ve been enjoying since before he arrived.

“vodka?”

“vodka.”

you swallow once more before handing him the glass, swaying your feet under the table as the delicious mixture of sweet and tart permeates your tongue.

“mhmm, wow!” he exclaims after taking a sip, tilting the glass a little bit to the side to look at the light red beverage with knitted eyebrows. “wait a minute- why is this so good?!”

you excitedly tug at the hem of his sweatshirt, begging for more pats on the head. “i had a lot of fun using the shaker.”

he lightly kicks out the chair to your right so he can take a seat, shrugging off the backpack full of clean clothes you packed for him last night incase he wanted to stay longer in busan.

“i did well with this one, right?”

he enthusiastically nods in response as he takes another gulp, chewing on the block of ice that also managed to slip inside his mouth. you melt into his affectionate touch when he cups your cheek with his delicate palm.

“maybe making drinks has been your specialty all along.”

you frown in disagreement. “i’m not sure. i made bloody mary before that one and i don’t know if i did something horribly wrong or it’s just supposed to taste that disgusting.”

amused laughter racks his body as he takes in the endearing sight of your genuinely downcast expression. you jut out your bottom lip in annoyance.

“it really tasted like poison! i got goosebumps!”

“shit, now i’m scared of you actually getting alcohol poisoning.” the back of your hand is rewarded with a sweet kiss by jungkook’s vodka-stained lips. the wide doe eyes behind his glasses meet yours curiously. “your hand smells like coffee.”

“oh- oh! the dalgona martini!” you rip your hand away from his to point at the martini glass standing at the very center of the dining table. “i just finished that. it should still be cold.”

he carefully slides the glass towards him to avoid spillage, fascinated lips forming a pout as he observes the thick portion of dalgona sitting on top of the mixed baileys and vodka. he didn’t even notice it at all because it’s almost the same color as the wood. has his vision gotten that bad?

“this looks yummy. you haven’t tried it yet?”

you shake your head, which you instantly regret because your vision blacks out momentarily. you swallow thickly as you attempt to blink away the shiny, swirly shapes dancing infront of your eyes.

“fuck, no. i already had classic martini, and mule. i’ll throw up.”

“jesus christ, baby. how many drinks did you try making?” jungkook finds himself so worried that he harshly takes off his glasses without reason, putting it aside on the table.

you giggle loudly at his reaction, using your folded arms as a pillow. “that’s all! i promise! besides, didn’t you drink with your friends, too?”

his face glows with uncontainable fondness at the mention of his friends.

“i was talking and laughing the whole time that i didn’t even finish half of my beer.”

your hazy eyes study his jovial and carefree features, and just like magic, they make your heart feel lighter inside your chest. heavens know that you wish for nothing more in the world than to see him this happy everyday.

“i’m so glad you had a great time, my love.”

“me too. i’ll tell you all about it when you’re sober and capable of memory retention.” he pokes fun at your drunken state as he picks up the glass of dalgona martini.

you roll your eyes before impatiently guiding the drink to his mouth. “just drink it already.”

“oing?” he blinks in disbelief, sipping on the glass again as if his tongue could’ve possibly fooled him the first time. ”i actually like this one more. i didn’t expect that.”

you abruptly perk up in your seat upon witnessing his candid review. “what? you’re joking!”

of course… you’re cursed. it had to be the one you hated making the most.

truth be told, you impulsively made the dalgona martini simply because it’s the only drink in the last online blog you found that you had the complete ingredients for.

you were obviously not prepared enough for this activity. but baileys, vodka, sugar, coffee, and water? yeah, any house would definitely have those.

then came your ridiculous dilemma: despite being intoxicated, you’re still terrified of using the electric whisker. and so, you had to do the whisking the hard way. to put it lightly, it was absolute hell. your arms and wrists are sore after shaking and whisking vigorously for the past three hours.

“it’s exactly what i needed after a long trip.” he moans. his shoulders spring up in delight as he licks off the foam around his lips, and you use your thumb to brush it away from the spots he missed.

jungkook grabs your hand before you could pull away, making you audibly gasp when he sucks at your thumb in his cold mouth. his insatiable tongue pokes the inside of his cheek after.

“uh- i think i tasted a hint of soap.”

“‘course you did. i just washed the dishes, you dummy.”

his pink lips part open as he processes your words, but he quickly brushes it off with a shrug. he noisily takes another sip from the glass.

“i can just clean it off my tongue with more martini.” he argues with a dimpled grin.

he grants you with a quick kiss, smudging the foam on his lips and transferring some of it to yours.

“ugh, you’re so sloppy!”

his laughter echoes in your home as he walks away. “i’m taking this with me to the bathtub!”

“don’t take an hour in there again.” you grumble out a complaint. “we need to watch alchemy of souls!”

—

“even if you decide to seal that door, i know how heartbreaking it will be for you, so it does not upset me so much.”

the flashback from four episodes ago confirms that it was foreshadowing this moment — park jin had sealed the door of jinyowon, a deep cave where relics are protected so they won’t unleash life-threatening dangers upon the world outside. lady jin and maidservant kim are stuck inside the collapsing sanctuary, holding back said relics from escaping… and the latter is none other than his wife-to-be.

jungkook anxiously bites the nails of his thumb and pinky finger, switching back and forth. the television screen reflects on the lens of his glasses as his eyes become shiny with tears.

“is this really the final episode? there’s no season three?”

“no, it ends tonight.” you reply in between embarrassing loud sobs, attention trained to the man mournfully calling out his lover’s name over and over again as he clutches her engagement ring to his chest.

the hot tears you fail to catch stream down to your temples, and then your boyfriend’s naked stomach. you’ve comfortably settled on the bed after finishing your nightly routines. your head is lying by the bottom of his ribcage, and that’s where the other edge of the cozy blanket enveloping the two of you rests. you grabbed a small portion of the cotton in a loose fist, and you’ve been keeping it close to wipe your tears with.

“oh my god, i can’t fucking do this. my head is being split open.”

you toss aside the remote control after pausing the episode, crawling to the nightstand to pop the painkiller in your mouth, which you prepared to be supposedly taken tomorrow morning. maybe you’ve sobered up a little, but the combination of the alcohol and the woeful crying have resulted to an agonizing migraine.

with his long and slender fingers, your boyfriend removes the hair that stuck to your tear-stained face before tenderly wiping your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.

“making my baby fucking cry, too. i need that son of a bitch jin mu to burn in hell.” he curses to release his pent-up anger from the past 29 episodes, referring to the main antagonist of the series. the harshness of his tone contrasts the gentle kiss that lingers at the corner of your lips.

after drinking water, you wipe away jungkook’s tears with tissue paper, gingerly dabbing at the sides of his nose as well. he has a very sensitive skin, and because tears do contain salt, they can cause slight irritation and stinging when he cries. it’s something he once quietly complained about in passing, but somehow, it stuck with you throughout the years.

“does it hurt a lot?” he worriedly caresses the back of your head.

you meekly nod in response.

“should we just watch the rest of it tomorrow then?”

“noooo.” you drag out the word, shifting on the bed to return to your previous position. “my pain is nothing to compared park jin’s pain. i must persevere.”

and just like that, your tired eyes begin to water again. jungkook chuckles, affectionately holding your face in his hands. he isn’t surprised to find your skin to be warmer than normal.

“aigoo, your eyes are so red. at least put your glasses back on.”

“fine.” you mumble in defeat as you pat around the mattress, looking for the glasses you haphazardly threw aside when your intense emotions started to take control over you.

his rosy cheeks rise like buns in an oven as he smiles. “i love it when we match.”

—

park jin stands before the greedy individuals who conspired to steal the foundation of jinyowon, the fire bird, which dries up the world when it is awakened. it will be used in a rain ritual to create another ice stone, a ball of energy similar to that of the sun or a star. and to point out the obvious, having it in your possession would mean becoming the most powerful being there is.

“evil always does what it wants without ever stopping. but why is it that virtue always needs to prove itself over and over again?”

“…yes. i do wish to save her. i would do anything to save her, even if it meant i would lose my sanity. but even so, i will stop you from getting what you want. not a single one of you has the right to laugh at me… and call me… a hypocrite.”

you feel jungkook shiver below you. he is immensely engrossed with the actor’s phenomenal performance, flawlessly depicting what ‘seething’ anger means. he puts his tattooed arm underneath his head to get a closer view of the subtitles. these have to be some of the best written lines he’s heard from this show so far, and he hopes to remember them by heart.

the two of you watched with bated breath when he starts fighting against several warriors, and then it happens… jin mu removes the barrier of the fire bird as a threat.

“oh, fuck you!” you kick your feet in annoyance.

park jin is forced to focus his energy on re-sealing the fire bird, leaving him vulnerable to the attacks of his merciless opponents.

“no, no, no.” jungkook chants under his breath, heart thundering with fear. “this can’t be happening.”

you know what is bound to happen. they did show three coffins at the end of episode nine. but denial denial denial is a stage of grief after all, and so, with a broken sob, you squeeze your eyes shut.

when your eyelids flutter open, a sword has already been driven through the center of his chest, and dark red blood uncontrollably spills from his mouth. jin mu spitefully pulls it out from behind before he weakly falls on the ground. jungkook stays quiet, it happens so fast but he feels suspended in time, while your horrified crying carries on.

you unwillingly remove your head from his chest before you can cry a river over his shirtless torso, opting to sit up beside him.

“bunch of cowards.” he couldn’t resist mocking as the group scrambles to leave the place before it completely burns down, jin mu taking re-sealed fire bird along with them.

park jin jolts awakes coughing up blood. he painfully forces himself to lie on his back, and the camera reveals that he’s been holding maidservant kim’s ring all along. with trembling hands, he puts the ring on himself. you cover your own mouth as you listen to his worn out sobs.

a look of love and admiration shines on his dull eyes, and you swear that he smiles softly, before his arms fall limp on the dusty ground.

is the moon watching? and the stars? have they ever witnessed something so gutwrenchingly tragic?

“he wore the ring on his pinky! and it didn’t even fit halfway!” your glasses is left abandoned beside you again as you finally allow yourself to weep freely.

seeing that you clearly need a break after that heartbreaking scene, jungkook pauses the episode.

“that’s so cute, but-” you hiccup. “this is so unfair. they were supposed to get married and have babies!”

“oh, baby. i know.” he coos softly, hugging your side and peppering your cheek with kisses. his own tears drip from his chin and he brushes them away with the back of his hand. “their souls will be together in after life though, don’t you think?”

you gradually grow quiet and calm at the thought he proposed, but- “i don’t think they can make babies there.”

“shit.” he chuckles as his forehead lands over your shoulder, glasses slightly sliding down his nosebridge. “you’re right.”

“this is too much. i can’t-” you blow your nose in sheets of tissue paper before throwing them in the bin you dragged next to the bed earlier. “it hurts so much. they just wanted a peaceful life together.”

the two of you grieve for the what if’s and what could’ve been’s. he can’t possibly think of anything more tragic than being forced in a position to choose between the love of your life and the humanity; only to end up perishing at the hands of the evil who made you do it.

and what did he have left? a lifetime’s worth of love to take with him to the grave, and whatever’s left of his pride and dignity? jungkook wouldn’t want any of those. he only wants you.

he lifts up his head, a small smile playing on his lips, swollen and cherry-colored from the nervous nibbles of his bunny teeth. “we’re crying like this and they’re not even the main characters.”

“need to sue the writers for emotional damages.” you groan, tense muscles slowly relaxing in your boyfriend’s embrace. “how many minutes left?”

“40 minutes.”

“i can’t even open my eyes anymore. sorry, babe. my head-”

it’s almost as if it’s been dunked underwater. the throbbing pain spreads numbing pressure from your temples to the back of your head.

“i told you we can finish it tomorrow. it’s fine.”

jungkook briefly leaves your side. the television screen turns black after he pulls out the plug. he throws away the crumpled tissue papers, and then he places your glasses on the safety of the nightstand.

“how cute… don’t fall asleep on me yet.” he fondly coos at your half-asleep figure. “you’re dehydrated. drink some water first.”

a straw pokes your lips. with your eyes shut closed, you hold onto his wrist to steady the tumbler as you take a long sip. by the time you let go, the water has reached the line indicating that there’s only three quarters of it left.

you softly fall back on your pillow with a ‘thump’, turning your back on him to face his empty side of the bed. he also drinks his share of the water before filling in the blank beside you.

he hums in acknowledgement when you pull at his arm to make it your personal pillow, leaving his own glasses on the nightstand as well before facing you.

you give him a small hazy smile, threading your fingers through his soft and luscious hair. “love your pretty and healthy hair.”

“i love you.” he whispers like a confession as he strokes the back of your head. “close your eyes now.”

“i love you, too.” with a peaceful sigh, you nuzzle your face against his chest. “jungkook?”

“hmmm?”

“were you happy today?”

a lump grows in his throat, bigger than the one he felt when he was browsing through engagement rings online. emerald cut, cushion cut, round cut. sapphire, ruby, diamond. size 4, 4.5, 5, 5.5, 6, 6.5… he was hanging on the thin line that separated excitement and anxiety. the two-hour train ride passed by like a radio song he didn’t pay attention to. but you don’t need to know about that. not right now.

he swallows it down, embracing you tighter. “i still am… happy. if i delete those scenes from my memory.”

“me too.” you mumble before succumbing to the void of darkness beneath your heavy eyelids.

—

between the alcohol and the coffee that he simultaneously drank, it looks like the latter won the upper hand. more than twenty minutes later, jungkook is still wide awake, overcome by his clamorous thoughts. the conversations he had with his friends echo in his mind, and he paces back and forth between your shared past and future. the future… there is no future if there is no you.

he closes his eyes, instructing himself to focus on the steady rise and fall of your chest instead of the things he cannot control.

he kisses the top of your head. “i love you so much.”

however, he won’t be able to sleep peacefully until he learns what happens next. he needs the closure because he would truly despise having a bad dream about them. after all, they didn’t show maidservant kim dying. there is a glowing firefly of hope he’s been enchanted to follow into the abyss of the night.

with careful movements, he wears his glasses and his wireless earbuds. he holds his phone using the arm you’re lying on, while his hand under the blanket absentmindedly rubs your back, palm smoothly running up and down the expanse of your skin.

his jaw slacks open only three minutes after he picked up where you left off. jang uk, the male lead of the show, reveals to those grieving infront of the three empty coffins that their loved ones did not pass away.

the following scene unveils park jin, alive yet unconscious on a bed, and maidservant kim who is holding his ring-clad hand, weeping for the traumatic night the two of them suffered.

jungkook chuckles in great relief, blinking away the tears from his glassy eyes.

“fuck, they’re alive.”

—

“fuck, they’re alive!” you almost choke on the haejangguk, a hangover soup, that you started to heartily eat not even two minutes ago. “i almost died crying last night and it turns out that they lied to me?!”

jungkook chooses to feign ignorance. he innocently watches the screen with his wide doe eyes, bunny teeth biting at the rim of his glass of white milk.

“wow, i’m speechless.“ he squeaks out. “how did they even get rescued?”

—

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