#and you make your characters so expressive!!

[spidermanifested]

another black sails fantheory ive seen around a lot is that silver is jewish, usually specifically sephardic, but despite its prevalence i havent been able to find anybodys actual thesis statements about it. so if there are Essays out there (especially by somebody with more historical-slash-judaism knowledge than i with my meager wiki-crawls) i would love Links

however once again ive pondered a bunch of the stuff ive noticed personally, about mr john "if thats even your real name" silver. and honestly at this point id be kind of surprised if it Wasnt the actual context the writers shaped his character around. everything just seems to come together really neatly

hes impressively literate for his circumstances/time period, and really good at quickly memorizing large amounts of text. a solid religious education could very well explain this

specifically– and this is one of the things that feels like a huge bit of intentional subtext to me– the scene where hes hiding with the lepers and memorizing the urca schedule REALLY seems to evoke someone reading scripture under a prayer shawl

not only does he not know how to cook pork, but does not even seem to know what pork looks like when finished cooking

the pretext flint used to get his crew to hunt down the hamiltons' ship was that it was carrying sephardic riches. this is a completely throwaway detail we learn secondhand, in a story where there are very, very few completely throwaway details

silver speaks at least some spanish. this comes up Once and goes totally unquestioned by everyone around him, likely because they think he just picked it up as a sailor. he almost certainly has not been at sea long enough for this to be the case. speaking ladino as a first language on the other hand would give him a huge leg up (so to speak.) in that department

further point. around the time period of the show, the biggest sephardic community in the world lived in thessaloniki in modern-day greece. it was:

a) one of the most major seaports in the ottoman empire

b) a famous center for learning, which boasted 100% literacy of its jewish population

and c) despite its long and prosperous history under ottoman rule, beginning to decline along with the rest of the empire, for many interconnected reasons, including but not limited to: Problems With the Governments Handling of the Textile Industry (where have we heard that before)

lotta unrest. religious schisms and doomsday prophecies. reactionary groups of overempowered soldiers attacking civilians for stress relief (again. where have we heard that before). people, unsurprisingly, started leaving

so if you did want, against john silvers express wishes. to theorize a backstory for a surprisingly educated stowaway of Mystery Origin, who has Mystery Trauma and doesnt want anybody to know who he is or where he comes from, and which would give a new level of relevance to all the greek stuff that permeates the show (down to the actual name of the thing!), along with containing parallels to several other backstories and events in the show proper,

Well this one make sense i think 👍

[totalswag]

podcast therapuss ⎯ DREW STARKEY

authors notes first time writing influencer!reader, i like it so far. this idea popped into my head the other day after watching one of jake’s episodes. there's no face claim for influencer!reader, i added this picture for the ideal theme.

taglist ⤕ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set to go.

masterlist

summary joining jakes podcast talking about various topics then mentioning not getting the chance to meet drew starkey. clips of you talking about him goes viral which leads him to reaching out to you.

warning(s) none!

About a month ago, your manager texted you about doing a podcast with Jake Shane, and you quickly said yes. You contacted him shortly after your managers confirmed it, expressing your excitement. Since then, you've grown closer and spent the night before the episode was filmed.

The two of you went out to dinner and got to talking about various of topics. It was a great way to get to know each other. You consider each other as friends now.

You've used social media since you were fifteen years old. You began by posting YouTube videos, and you continue to do so. Tiktok became another source of content to promote, including daily vlogs, hilarious content, and so on. Nothing would make you change it.

Everyone was getting settled before filming began. Jake started off by talking about a few topics then you came in. You were super excited about doing this.

“Welcome to Therapuss! "We've got the incredible Y/N here today," Jake says, gesturing toward you as you relax into the comfortable chair across from him. You flash your characteristic smile, which your followers enjoy. The cameras roll, but it feels natural—just another day in your life, sharing your thoughts and experiences with the world.

"Stop it!" you chuckle, shaking your head. "But seriously, Jake, thank you very much for having me. "I am a huge fan of the podcast."

"You're too kind," he replies, smiling. "So, let us dig in. You've experienced an unimaginable rise on social media. Your vlogs are really addictive, your TikToks are continuously trending, and everyone adores you. "How does it feel?"

You enjoy answering questions like this. They are your favorite because you don't always get to discuss what inspired you for doing this.

"It's surreal, honestly," you acknowledge. "I started YouTube my freshman year of high school because I wanted to look back on the moments I made. I never imagined it would turn out like this. It has been a whirlwind, but I am grateful for it."

Jake takes it all in, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hand. "Based on what I've seen, your content is incredibly diverse in your vlogs, TikTok, and lifestyle tips. Tell me, how do you balance all of that?" He asks, intrigued by what you do.

You respond to the question by explaining how you learned to draw boundaries over time. You prefer to keep a lot of things private that do not affect the outer world. As your audience grew, you formed a unique bond with them.

"Do you have a show you've been obsessed with lately?" Jake asks you while laughing and raising his eyebrows.

"Duh, Outer Banks pookie!" Before you laugh and toss your head back theatrically, you smirk. The statement, "I love all characters, Rafe is my favorite," leaves Jake speechless.

"Let me explain, his character is so interesting and yes, he's a psycho," you huff, putting your palms up in defense.

Jake and you keep talking about the show and his favorite show.

Jake nods in agreement. "Totally. Okay, switching gears to Pougelandia. Tell me everything."

You giggle and lean back in your chair. "Oh my goodness, that was incredible! The Outer Banks cast is as cool as they appear on television,” You gush, your excitement is evident.

Jake’s face lights up hearing you talk about the cast, “stop it that sounds so sweet, tell me more!”

You quickly point at him, “They’re so down to earth and so sweet. I got to meet practically everyone except for one person,” pouting then covering your hands with your hands.

Jake shrieks in surprise, "bitch who? "You must tell me!" He exclaims excitedly, settling into his seat.

“Drew Starkey. I was very disappointed since I'd heard he was the sweetest person, but our schedules didn't work out." you confess with a hint of disappointment. You were excited to meet him and start a conversation like you did with the rest of the cast.

Jake, of course, teased you about it, saying, “I feel like we’re setting up a rom-com here. Drew, if you’re listening, the universe is waiting.”

The remainder of the podcast you two continue to talk about various topics and even did the infamous NAME—someone will send in a question or mention something for Jake and the guest to answer the question on the podcast. There were lots of interesting questions.

A few days later, the episode is up—fans are talking about you talking about Drew and you wanting to meet him. TikTok is overloaded with clips of you talking about Drew, and your comments are full of hopeful hints about a possible meet-up.

You'd just completed editing your most recent YouTube video for your next vlog, and you were drained enough to fall asleep at your desk. The buzz of your phone buzzing from your bed, frowning but curious in who it could be.

You scream. Literally scream.

Drew Starkey followed you.

Drew Starkey sent you a message.

"Am I being punked?" Am I dreaming? "What the fuck is happening?" You ramble while holding your phone in your shaky hands and looking at the two notifications on your lock screen.

Allowing yourself to relax and compose yourself. You unlock your phone, tap on instagram, go to the messaging tab, you’re sure your jaw dropped to the floor.

Drew Starkey: Hey, I recently watched your podcast with Jake. We should get together sometime—finally make up for not meeting in Pougelandia!

What do you say?

How do you come off calmly?

Yourusername: Hi! Yes, it sounds perfect. Let me know when you’re free.

Fast forward two months later, you feel you’re still in a dream. Drew and you hung out together at a local coffee shop then went back to your place to talk more. Once you started talking you two couldn’t stop.

After hanging out the first time came more meeting ups. Drew asked you to be his girlfriend three weeks ago—you were shocked and excited all at once.

One day, while scrolling through TikTok in your kitchen, leaning on the counter, you came across the trend—wait they don't love you like I love you. You thought the trend was silly, so you decided to participate. 

You did a couple tries and posted your favorite one out of the four—not realizing Drew was in the background on his phone, unfazed about what you were doing. Your comments started blowing up.

Bestie you got some explaining to do 🤨

Causally dancing in your kitchen while Drew Starkey is walking around at the same time? Interesting

When worlds collide fr 😏

Alright where the cameras at...

I fucking knew it!!!!

⎯⎯ my taglist!

✰ if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line across your name that means i couldn't find your account

@runningfrom2am @chenslucy @whorelaud @drewsephrry @diqldrunks @rosezza @rafeyslamb @mymultiveres @starkeyvhs @percysley @francislovergirl @kiiyomei @sukuna-wafiu @skyslowalking @kneelarmhstrung @inthelibrarybtw @liliumz @lovingsturniolo @xoxosblogsblog @yanna2coolz @stevesxwhore @minyoon23 @skywalker0809 @bxmaaa @anamiad00msday @ifwfratboychris @darkacademictrash @pwertiies @claudiamoscatoo @stir-knee-o-low @ratgirlcunt @drewstxrky

[kaissatou]

hii i just love any kind of dae ho or nam gyu smut lol!! i have no preferences i just very much am in love with these characters haha! thank u so so much i love ur writing!!!!

daeho as your boyfriend ♡

18+ under the cut .*･｡ﾟnamgyu ver here

Boyfriend!Daeho who is sososo clingy with you, always keeping a comforting hand on you & always ready to give you the most comforting bear hug at aaaalll times!! If he can’t keep he’s hands snug around your waist, he’ll make do with intertwined fingers, he thinks :(

Boyfriend!Daeho, who if your anything like me, (5’0) practically towers over you. He absolutely loves the height difference between you, but not in a teasing way! He just loves to be able to engulf your shorter frame within his own.

Boyfriend!Daeho who would also absolutely looove if you were taller, gazing at you as if you had hung the stars for him. Though when you’re hugging he’s still pick you up ^.^ he can’t help it!!

Boyfriend!Daeho who typically runs hot, like a living furnace. He becomes very whiny in the summer when you detangle his limbs from your own in the night, complaining he’s ’too hot.’ It doesn’t make a difference, because he’s pulling you back 2 mins later, silencing your sighs with a quick peck before gently tugging your head back down to its place on his chest.

Boyfriend!Daeho to me is SUCH a pleasure dom, his main goal being to please you ♡ though most of the time he’ll overstimulate himself in the process ^.^

From him being a marine, I head-cannon him to have preeeetty high stamina- meaning he can last a couple rounds without needing a break. However, if you’re still not satiated he’ll completely ignore his exhaustion for you.

We know he’s a yapper already, so when he gets pussy drunk he just rambles on about how good your doing f’me and just one more, baby, wanna make you feel so good- he’s a talker during sex, if you hadn’t figured. Linking back to how he overstimulates himself, you only realise due to his face being tucked into your neck, only clocking it when his rambles turn messy, and then into even messier whines and moans.

Boyfriend!Daeho who loves when you ride him, through you’re not doing much of the work, just sitting there and looking pretty for him, like he asked. He doesn’t want you to tire yourself out. That’s his job. He’ll control your movements, sloppy as he lifts your hips up only to drop them back down onto his messy cock, grunts escaping his lips of how good you’re doing.

Boyfriend!Daeho who is packing. When your jaw drops the first time you ever see his pretty dick, he’s automatically confused- he thought he was average? Your expression says otherwise. Boyfriend!Daeho who prepares you for him by eating you out like his last meal on earth, kissing your pretty little puffy clit until you cum on his tongue at least twice.

And when he thinks he’s prepared you enough, it’s still not enough to ease the shock from the biiiig stretch, his soothing words (although sweet), not doing much to ease your mind as he slowly slides in your gooey walls. Is it even halfway yet?

Boyfriend!Daeho whose mind goes blank the first time he gets the pleasure of bottoming out inside of you, his brain short circuiting. Oh, he’s rambling again. But you feel oh so good, so warm and hot, so sticky-

Boyfriend!Daeho who’s out like a light after aftercare, quiet snores as he holds you tightly in his arms, your face still feeling the pretty peppers of his kisses, your pussy still feeling the emptiness from his cock. He’ll make it up to you tomorrow. ♡

[cybrasigilism]

I would die if you wrote an nsfw fic about Namgyu x reader 😭😭😭 like what if he’s your toxic ex or you guys just hate each other and it grows into an attraction… I love your writing so much btw!!

IFHY (Player 124/Nam-gyu x Reader)

warnings: smut of course, i mean have you seen my page? | not proofread | lowercase intended | unknown identities | nam-gyu’s a dick | unprotected sex (the pullout method is not reliable ladies and gentlemen) | fingering | degradation | rough sex | this is my interpretation of this character, please be respectful even if my opinions for the character are different from yours

character: nam-gyu (player 124)

A/N: there needs to be a larger selection of GIFs for 124 man, i can’t find any ones of him NOT being in the background its unfortunate. hope y’all enjoy as always, i found this one sort of challenging to write, it’s definitely out of my comfort zone but i still had fun!

MDNI! 18+ content under the cut, readers discretion is advised

• ─────────────── •

toleration.

that was the one thing keeping you going in these new, uncertain circumstances of yours. as long as you laid low, didn’t complain, and simply tolerated your new life then maybe, things wouldn’t be so bad.

that seems easy, except for the fact that there was one thing, rather one person, you just could not tolerate. and that was player 124.

sure, the crowd he stuck to was overall quite obnoxious, but for some reason 124 in particular really got under your skin. first off, you didn’t like how he and his purple-haired crackhead friend would always pick on that player 333. sure, he may have scammed lots of people out of their money, but surely those idiots had bigger things to focus on over being petty nuisances.

secondly? the way he would stare at you with such hate for no good reason. you assumed it was probably due to the fact that you constantly voted X, even though you both knew it didn’t make much of a difference. it didn’t bother you that he hated you, seeing as the feeling was more than mutual, but you just wish he would focus his stare somewhere else.

and lastly, every single thing about him and his mannerisms just pissed. you. off. his whole smug demeanour really made you want to land a punch square between his eyes, but you figured he might actually be into that since he clearly had a death wish, seeing as how he always picked the O side of the vote. you were convinced that had it not been for his tweaker of a leader, he would have died a long time ago. to be honest, you wished he had.

that’s why, when he grabbed you by the sleeve and yanked you into a room for the mingle game, you were completely stunned. you would have figured 124 would have left you for dead, hell, you would have expected him to purposely knock you to the ground. maybe it was the adrenaline that made him grab you, maybe it was that he actually… wanted to save you? no, couldn’t have been.

unless..?

“what the hell did you do that for?” you asked, out of breath. he furrowed his brows, looking down on you with that usual stare. “well?” you continued, louder this time. he let out a chuckle before taking a glance out at all the unlucky players who couldn’t find groups.

“what’s so funny?” you questioned, steadying yourself against the wall. he looked back at you, with that shit eating smirk that you hated so much. “i just didn’t realize that you wanted to die that badly.” his response took you aback, a sour expression appearing on your face.

“oh, i suppose i should thank you for yanking me by the arm like that then?” you huffed, rolling your shoulder as you adjusted your sleeve. he approached you, and you suddenly felt the urge to swallow the saliva you just became alarmingly aware of. “you don’t have to thank me now..” he started, looking you up and down in such a way that made your cheeks grow warmer. “you can just pay me back later.”

just then, the doors unlocked, and player 124 was more than happy to swing it open and head back to his little group, not without looking back at you with a sly wink. you stayed stood in the room for a brief moment, still leaned against the wall, trying to process why your cheeks felt so hot all of a sudden.

oh god, you weren’t… catching feelings for 124, were you?

———

it was lights out when you started thinking about your guys’s brief mingle room interaction. you still couldn’t wrap your mind around what you were feeling, but now you found yourself squeezing your legs together as you thought more and more about player 124. you couldn’t believe this, you didn’t even know this assholes name, and now he’s got you all hot and bothered like this?

you knew what you had to do, and you were not proud of it.

after about 5 solid minutes of convincing the circle-masked guard to allow you access to the bathroom, you quickly secured yourself in a stall. “i can’t believe i’m actually doing this right now.” was all you could think as you pulled your pants around your knees, along with your underwear, and slid your hand between your thighs. you had hoped no one could hear as you began to moan softly, just as your thoughts spiralled about player 124, and the tension between you two in the little mingle room; how much you wished he would have taken you right there, inside that cramped space. you felt yourself approaching the edge when you heard something that made your heart stop.

his voice. his voice?

something inside you prayed to god that somehow your imagination had just been that good, but you heard him again, calling out your number from just beyond the stall door. you were too petrified to say, think, even do anything. but of course, he pulled the door open and there you were, hand between your thighs with the single most horrified expression painted on your face.

“wow, couldn’t even wait for me, huh?” he mocked, his gaze fixated between your legs. “what the fuck are you looking at, pervert?!” you whisper-shouted, so as to not alert the guards. he laughed, and you don’t know how or why but that did something to you, as if your fingers currently on your clit were helping matters at all.

“pervert? i’d say you’re the perverse one, seeing how you were just jacking off in the public bathrooms. are you that much of a slut that you can’t keep your hands outta your pants for more than a night?” his degrading was not easing things, matter of fact it was only turning you on, and you were sure he knew that. you started to pull your hand away, and he shut the two of you inside the confined stall.

“what do you think you’re doing?” 124 asked, now on his knees so you had to meet his gaze. “i was just-“ you started, before being quickly interrupted by him grabbing your now exposed hand. “stopping?” he finished your sentence for you, cocking his head to the side with the same wide eyed faux-curious expression you’re sure you’ve seen him give others in the games. “don’t you dare stop on my account.” you tried to avoid eye contact, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “i can’t do it.. not in front of you.” your response felt totally out of character for yourself, and 124 totally called bullshit then and there. “fine, then i guess i’ll just have to help you then won’t i?” his boldness shouldn’t have shocked you, and you don’t think it did. you barely had tome to wrap your head around the fact that he now had slithered his own hand between your legs before-

“oh my god.” was drawn from your lips as he slid his fingers up your slick folds, brushing against your clit as he rubbed up at down your pussy. “holy shit, i’ve hardly done anything and you’re already soaked.” he exclaimed smuggly, earning an attempted glare from you. “oh please, don’t take all the credit.” you scoffed, using every bit of willpower you could muster to ensure you didn’t moan, god forbid. “i think i can,” he chuckled, continuing what would be the beginning of his assault on your nerves, “seeing as you know you got this fucking wet thinking of me.” when you least expected it, he pushed not one, but two fingers into your cunt. at this point you saw stars, feeling yourself clench around him so soon you felt as though you should be ashamed of yourself, but you didn’t care.

“shit, already so tight for me, huh?” you could tell through 124’s tone than he was totally turned on by this, by how horny he made you. “if i had known you’d be this easy, i would have done this a while ago.” normally you would be completely offended by his words, but when he started circling your clit with his thumb you really couldn’t bring yourself to mind at all. “p-please…i need to..” you could barely get your words out through your moans, you wouldn’t be surprised if he couldn’t understand you. “need ta’ cum, so bad-“

“oh yeah? you need it?” he taunted, only increasing his pace as he pumped his fingers knuckle-deep inside your throbbing pussy. “i don’t think you’ve earned it yet.” he stopped suddenly. you cried out at the abrupt loss of friction as he released his fingers from your firm grip. he took in the sight of how desperate you were as he lowered his pants, ordering you to free up your seat, to which you were shocked you could even stand at this point. “if you need to cum so bad, why don’t you show me that you deserve it.” he grabbed your arm and pulled you over to him. you couldn’t process what situation you were in just now. one minute you were convinced you hated the guy, and now your pussy was inches away from his dick? you can’t say you minded your predicament, you were just terribly shocked.

“why the hesitation? didn’t you say you needed to cum?” the return of the mocking tone was not lost on you, and you could feel yourself begin to shake. not out of fear, but out of pure anticipation. “i’m sorry, i just…” you began, before he grabbed you hips and pulled you down onto his lap, the both of you gasping at the abrupt feeling of pure ecstasy. “holy shit!” you cried out, gripping onto the walls of the stall as 124 began to bounce you on his cock. it’s almost as though he was setting the pace for what he wanted you to do, and you quickly caught on, sliding up and down his dick as his grip on your hips hardened.

“god you’re such a pathetic little whore,” he said through gritted teeth, slapping your ass while you rode him, earning a hearty moan from your lips. “oh, yeah? you like getting slapped like the little cockslut you are?” “y-es! oh fuck, oh fuck.” it was as if you were in a trance, telling him anything he wanted to hear. “yeah? imma need to hear you say it.” he teased, you could still feel him controlling your every move through the grasp he had on your hips. you tell him exactly what he wants. “i..i’m your..” you moan senselessly “your little cockslut-“

“fuck yeah, at least you know what you’re good for..” his words started to get a bit unsteady, maybe it was because of how tight you were clenching on him. “oh shit, are you close already?” he gasped, to which you responded something unintelligible. “fuck, i can barely understand you, babbling like a needy little whore.” you couldn’t take it, the way he made you feel was immeasurable to anything you’ve ever experienced. all you wanted in that moment was player 124, you never wanted him to stop pounding up into you with such tenacity.

with one final squeeze of your cunt, he held your hips down and a hot feeling quickly filled your insides. a slew of profanities were expelled from his lips and you felt your whole body shake. as soon as your breathing both steadied, he motioned you to get off his lap and he pulled his pants back up. you, however, could not possibly muster yourself to stand up at the moment, your legs still vibrating from the wild ride you just experienced.

“like i said,” he started, “if i had known you’d have been this easy.. woulda fucked you a lot sooner.” he turned and left the restroom, and you stayed slumped against the wall. now you could say one thing was for sure..

you definitely tolerated player 124.

• ─────────────── •

thanks so much for reading! i know it’s sort of different than what i usually write but i hope it’s satisfactory! as usual please, if you have any advice or constructive criticism on how i can improve my writing it’s greatly appreciated!

have a great day/night 💋

tags: @gabbystinks

[14dayswithyou]

I literally have the most amazing and wonderful community in the entire world???? T_T In this essay, I will—

This is going to be raw and unedited because I want to get my initial thoughts out there before I forget n go back to crying /pos, but?? Yawl.... I can't even begin to find the words to express how appreciative and grateful I am for each and every one of you!! ;v;

I've spent the past few hours reading through everyone's personally written messages, then rereading them all again to let it all fully sink in. I'm being genuine when I say that I've never felt this loved or appreciated in any community before in my life.

Those in the Discord server might know about this already, but since the start of this year, I haven't really been enjoying myself (nor have I been as active) in the yandere VN community. There was far too much infighting between devs, parasocial communities, and toxic anons that ruined so much for me — so I withdrew from it all and remained in my own small bubble. Even then, I still got belittled, harassed, doxxed, and even became the target of Tall Poppy Syndrome by others; most of which nearly made me want to leave altogether, but the overflowing amount of support from everyone in the 14DWY community made me want to stay.

And even now, after reading all those heartfelt messages... I think it's permanently solidified the little space I occupy here on the internet :3

So... Yeah, long story short (and a story that will likely end up as its own separate Tumblr post gjskskjd), I wasn't enjoying myself at all in the yandere VN community... but I did have the time of my life in the 14DWY community. And it's all thanks to you guys.

I'm genuinely sooooo proud to have such an endlessly kind, social, and talented community; and I'm glad to have brought such an interactive and friendly group of people together over our shared interest in such a nice concept. 14DWY is essentially a labour of my love — and although I'm ultimately creating it for me and my silly interests — it's still something that I want to make worthy of you guys as well. All the love and support you've shown me and 14DWY motivates me to do my very best, and y'all deserve nothing less. So...

Thank you all for finding a comfort character in my Totally Normal Guy and his Totally Not Eccentric quirks. Thank you for all the insanely talented creations y'all make and share with me. Thank you for sending in your silly (/pos) questions and turning them into inside jokes and AUs for the rest of the community to enjoy. Thank you for talking with me and making this space a genuinely fun place for me to be in again.

From the bottom of my heart; thank you all so much. I really hope everyone has had an amazing year so far, and I hope 2025 will be as kind to you as you all were towards me.

I also want to give a big fat massive huuuuuuuge shout-out to Ashe / @flaneur001 my love (/p) for organising the 14DWY letter event on Discord, and for contributing so much of their time and dedication to the 14DWY community. You say you've only been part of the community for a year, but to me, that was a year well cherished and appreciated. The 14DWY community (and me especially) have all been so lucky to spend this past year with you, and I sincerely hope you've enjoyed it as much as we have. You've done so much for me, the community, and the 14DWY Discord server, so it's only fair that you get the recognition you deserve. So thank you, Ashe!! And a big thank you to everyone in the 14DWY Discord who participated in this event as well!

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some cryin and sobbin to do <3 /silly /pos

[focusonkayjay]

Wildly Wealthy Koreans (6); inspired by Crazy Rich Asians

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: photographer/ filmmaker! jungkook, rich girl/ fashion designer! reader, established relationship, angst, fluff, smut

Series summary: When you invite your boyfriend, Jungkook, to accompany you to your brother's wedding in your hometown, Daegu, he’s overjoyed, eager to meet your family and experience a side of your life you’ve never shared with him. However, once he uncovers the truth about who you really are, he’s unable to grasp the full extent of your reality. The situation becomes even more complicated when a certain someone makes him feel profoundly unwelcome, leaving him to question not only your world, but also his place in it.

Disclaimer: This series is heavily inspired by the movie Crazy Rich Asians, with the storyline closely following the original film's plot. However, I wanted to reimagine it as a fanfiction, where Jungkook and OC take center stage as the main protagonists. While I’ve kept the core elements and themes from the movie, I’ve added my own touches here and there, such as altering certain character dynamics and incorporating a few original settings. Some scenes are directly inspired by the movie, and I’ve worked to recreate them in a way that it hopefully resonates with the fans of the movie. Hope you enjoy!!

Word Count: 11.9k+

Chapter Warnings: protected sex, oral (m. and f. receiving), conversations and scenes directly taken from the movie, mentions of culture, traditions etc, subtle self-racist comment (originally said by peik lin from the movie), mentions of affair, whistleblowing, background check. (lmk if i missed anything)

A/N: okay i loved writing this part so much, mainly because i had to rewatch the movie again and make a note of all the dialogues i wanted to use. Y/N AND JUNGKOOK ARE SOSOOSOSOS IN LOVE THEY'RE MAKING ME SICK OMGMGMG. i had to pause every time i had to write a fluffy scene because honestly, ME WHENNNNN. sorry, i'm just lonely and i wish i had a man like nick young or jungkook. anyways, i hope you like this part !! stay tuned for more <3

part 6

"You will never be enough."

The words reverberate like a broken record in Jungkook’s mind, gnawing at him from the inside, sharp and unyielding. His stomach churns as his thoughts are consumed by the memory of your mother’s cold, piercing gaze... the eerie, almost predatory smile that never quite reached her eyes... her low voice, slicing through him with the precision of a blade. It’s all he can hear, all he can feel.

"You will never be enough."

He had always known... ever since he stepped into your world, ever since he met your mother for the first time, that she didn’t approve of him. But to hear it from her lips, spoken directly to him, was a blow that shattered every ounce of self-worth he had left.

"You will never be enough."

It felt personal, like every word was aimed at him, carving into his chest. The way she scrutinized him with such disdain, as though deeming him unworthy of your love. Her words were clear... He would never measure up. He would never be truly worthy to love you.

"You will never be enough."

His throat tightens as he swallows, his jaw clenching involuntarily. The words echo on loop in his mind, relentless and cruel. He just can’t escape them.

"You will never be eno—"

"Baby, are you even listening to me?" Your voice suddenly slices through the storm in his mind. Jungkook snaps his head towards you, his gaze meeting yours as you sit beside him, confusion flickering in your eyes. Your hands grip the steering wheel, steady and calm, a contrast to the chaos in his head.

In an instant, the world around him comes rushing back. The smell of your car, the soft hum of the engine, the lingering traffic weaving through the streets.

"Is everything okay?" You chuckle at his expression, glancing at him before returning your focus to the road. "You were zoned out." You say softly, your voice warm, but still laced with concern. Jungkook takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling as he leans back against the passenger seat.

After making dumplings with your family, you had suggested that the two of you should do something together to spend your time here, in Daegu. So now, he finds himself in your car, driving to a destination unknown to him. You told him it was a surprise.

"Nothing... I... I was just thinking about where we're headed." Jungkook murmurs, his voice steady despite the turmoil raging within. He forces himself to meet your gaze, hoping the storm inside him doesn't show through the cracks.

The memory of your mother’s scornful words claws at him, but he fights to push it down, to bury it deep where it can’t touch him now.

You, blissfully unaware of the silent battle he’s waging, laugh softly, your voice like a soothing balm to his fractured thoughts. "It’s a surprise, cutie." you tease, your eyes crinkling with mischief as you wink at him.

Your foot presses down on the accelerator, and the car surges forward, the playful smile on your lips making Jungkook’s heart ache with adoration. He mirrors your smile, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

The cityscape unfolds around him, bathed in the golden hues of the setting sun. Shades of orange and pink streak the sky like an artist’s masterpiece, but Jungkook barely notices.

The vivid memory of your mother’s piercing gaze and the cruel edge of her voice replay in his mind, over and over. He shakes his head lightly, trying to focus on the present, on you, and the mystery of this surprise you’ve planned.

Minutes pass, and the car finally comes to a smooth stop in front of an imposing building. Jungkook’s brows knit together as he gazes up at the towering structure, its sleek glass exterior reflecting the fiery hues of the sunset.

His lips part slightly, confusion etched across his face. "What... what is this place?" he asks, his voice laced with curiosity. You simply unbuckle your seatbelt, a sly smile playing on your lips. "Just follow me." you say, slipping out of the car.

The valet greets you warmly, taking your keys as you take Jungkook’s hand, your fingers lacing through his as you lead him towards the grand entrance.

Inside, the lobby is breathtaking. Crystal chandeliers cast a soft, golden glow over the space, illuminating polished marble floors and opulent decor. The air carries a faint scent of jasmine and vanilla, luxurious and inviting.

You don’t pause to check in by the reception and simply walk towards the elevator, your steps light and confident. Jungkook follows, his curiosity piqued despite himself. "Baby, where are we going?" he asks as you step into the elevator and press the button for the highest floor.

"You’ll see." you reply with a playful giggle, looping your arm through his and leaning your head lightly against his shoulder. Your cheeky smile makes his heart stutter, momentarily silencing the insecurities clawing at him.

Despite everything, you’re here with him, planning something just for him. He clings to that thought, letting it steady him.

The elevator dings softly as it reaches the top floor. The doors slide open, revealing a dimly lit corridor that leads to an open-air rooftop. The cool evening breeze brushes against Jungkook’s skin as you guide him outside.

His breath catches as his eyes instantly fall on the scene before him. At the edge of the rooftop, overlooking the glittering city lights, is a table for two, draped in white linen and adorned with flickering candles.

Twinkling fairy lights are strung around the railings nearby, casting a warm, ethereal glow over the setting. Delicate petals of red and white roses are scattered across the table and the ground around it, creating a pathway that leads to the intimate setup.

Jungkook’s lips part in awe as he takes in the scene, his heart swelling with a mixture of emotions. You tug on his hand gently, drawing him closer to the table. "Do you like it?" you ask, your voice soft and hopeful, your eyes searching his for a reaction.

Jungkook’s gaze shifts from the breathtaking setup to you, his heart clenching at the sight of your radiant smile. For a moment, the weight of your mother’s words fades into the background, eclipsed by the warmth of your presence.

"I love it." he immediately says, his voice thick with emotion. And as you pull out a chair for him, he sits down, feeling, for the first time in hours, a glimmer of peace.

Here, with you, beneath the slowly emerging stars, he allows himself to believe—if only for a fleeting moment—that he might just be enough.

Once he's seated, you walk around the table with a grace that has his heart skipping a beat as you take your seat opposite to him, the golden glow of the candles casting warm shadows across your face.

"I arranged this as a way... to thank you." you say softly, leaning forward to take his hands into yours. "For what?" he asks, tilting his head slightly, his soft eyes searching yours. "Thank you for coming here with me." you begin, your voice gentle but earnest.

"I know it hasn’t been easy for you. Meeting my family, enduring all those formal events, dealing with Wooyoung..." His fingers twitch slightly at the mention of the name, and you pause, your thumb brushing over his knuckles in a soothing rhythm.

"You’ve handled so much, Kook." you continue, your voice dipping lower, more intimate. "I know it’s been overwhelming, and yet, you’ve been nothing but kind and patient. You’ve been so amazing, even when things got... complicated." You smile softly, and Jungkook's lips curve into a matching expression.

"You don’t have to thank me, baby." he murmurs. "I’m glad I’m here with you. Being by your side, spending time with you... it’s everything I could ever want." He lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss on your knuckles, and you can’t help but blush.

"I love you." he whispers, his voice barely audible, but you catch every word as if it were etched into the night. "I love you too." you reply, your gaze soft and unwavering.

The world fades for a moment, leaving only the two of you, the city lights twinkling in the distance like a million silent witnesses to your love.

The moment lingers, perfect and serene, until your eyes widen suddenly with excitement. "Oh! There’s something else." you exclaim, breaking the silence as you pull your hands away and slide your chair slightly back.

Jungkook watches you, confusion flickering in his eyes as you bend down, your hand disappearing under the linen-draped table. You pull out a box from underneath the table, wrapped in silver paper as you grin widely at him.

"What’s this?" he asks, his brows furrowing as you push the box towards him. "Just open it." you say with a giggle, motioning for him to unwrap the gift.

He carefully peels back the wrapping, his fingers delicate as if the gift might shatter in his hands. When the paper falls away, revealing the box beneath, his breath catches. His eyes widen as they land on the unmistakable logo and the words printed across the surface.

"No way..." he whispers, disbelief coloring his tone. He looks up at you, his lips parted in astonishment. "You... you got me a camera?"

You nod, your smile growing as you watch his reaction. "Not just any camera." you tease. "The latest model. I did my research, Mr. Photographer."

Jungkook’s hands shake slightly as he unboxes it, pulling out the glossy camera and turning it over in his hands like it’s the most precious thing he’s ever touched. His fingers move instinctively, adjusting the lens, checking the buttons, his photographer's instincts kicking in.

"Babe..." he says softly, his voice tinged with awe. "This is incredible. But..." He trails off, looking at you with those wide doe eyes that make your heart melt. "This is so so expensive... how can I accept this? You really didn’t have to—"

"This is the least I could do, Kook." you interject, leaning forward, your voice carrying both playfulness and affection. "Especially after that idiot Wooyoung broke your camera." you say, your nose scrunching in slight anger. "I know you have other cameras, but I really wanted to gift you one and make up for what that asshole did." you say.

Jungkook’s eyes glisten as he processes your words, the weight of your thoughtfulness settling in his chest. He sets the camera down carefully and reaches for your hands again. "Baby..." he says, his voice trembling slightly.

"I don’t even know what to say. This... this means everything to me. Thank you... Thank you so much." His words are sincere, but they feel inadequate for the gratitude he truly feels.

So instead, he stands up and leans across the table, cupping your face in his hands, and kisses you. It’s soft and slow, his lips lingering against yours as if trying to pour all the emotions he can’t put into words, into that one kiss.

When he pulls away, his forehead rests against yours, and his smile is radiant, the earlier heaviness in his heart completely erased. "I love you so much." he whispers, his eyes shining as the reflections of the lights and the candles glimmer in his eyes.

"I love you too." you reply, smiling at him. And as the city sparkles under you and the candles flicker between you, both of you know that this moment... this love, is all that matters.

//

Jungkook's eyes widen as you nonchalantly pull a keycard from your pocket after the waiter clears the table. He stares at you, disbelief etched on his face. "No way... you booked a room?" he asks, his voice tinged with awe.

You smirk, leaning forward slightly, your tone playful and dripping with mischief. "You really thought the night was going to end with just dinner?" You arch an eyebrow at him, and the teasing glint in your eyes has his heart racing.

Jungkook chuckles, running a hand through his hair as he leans back in his chair. His lips curl into a warm, affectionate smile as he shakes his head. "You’re full of surprises tonight, aren’t you?"

Without missing a beat, you stand, extending your hand towards him, your grin widening. "Come on, We don’t have time to waste." you urge. His laughter fills the space as he picks up the camera box in one hand, letting his other hand intertwine with yours.

"You’re about to have the hottest, steamiest, mind boggling sex of your life." you exaggerate, throwing a playful wink over your shoulder as you tug him towards the elevator.

The second the elevator doors slide shut after you press the number of the floor your suite is located on, you waste no time. With a confident step forward, you push him gently against the cool elevator wall, your lips crashing onto his in a kiss so intense it leaves him momentarily stunned.

His breath hitches, his grip instinctively tightening on the camera box. But within moments, he responds, one hand sliding down to your waist, holding you close as he surrenders to the fiery passion between you.

The kiss is electric, consuming, and utterly knee-weakening. You tug lightly at his lower lip, and a soft groan escapes him, his free hand clutching your hip.

Time feels suspended, the air thick with heat and longing. His lips move against yours with fervor, matching your intensity, as if this moment is the only thing that matters. The ding of the elevator arriving on your floor pulls you both back to reality, though his dazed expression says he’s still lost in the kiss.

Licking your lips, you grin and take his hand again. "Come on." you whisper, your voice a blend of excitement and seduction as you drag him out of the elevator.

Jungkook follows silently, his heart pounding in his chest as you guide him down the softly lit corridor. The quiet elegance of the hallway feels almost surreal, but his focus is entirely on you... your determined stride, the sway of your hips, the way your hand fits perfectly in his.

When you stop in front of the door to your suite, you quickly swipe the keycard and push the door open, stepping inside with him close behind.

The suite is luxurious, with a breathtaking view of the city skyline, but neither of you pays it much attention. Jungkook sets the camera box carefully on the polished table near the door, and before he can say a word, his hands are already back on you, pulling you towards him as he plops down onto the edge of the plush bed.

You stand between his legs, his dark eyes locked onto yours, filled with affection and desire. Without hesitation, you lean down, wrapping your arms around his neck and capturing his lips in another kiss.

This one is slower, deeper, yet no less passionate. His hands glide up your sides, fingers splayed as if he’s trying to memorize every curve. Jungkook groans softly against your lips, his hands traveling to the small of your back as he pulls you closer.

His kiss is breathtaking, tender yet fervent, as if he’s pouring every ounce of love and longing into the connection. The gentle scrape of his teeth against your lower lip sends shivers down your spine, and your knees nearly buckle as his lips trail down to your jaw, then to the sensitive spot just below your ear.

"God, you’re incredible..." he murmurs, his voice low and husky, filled with awe. His words, combined with the warmth of his breath, make your heart race and your cheeks flush with heat.

You pull back slightly, just enough to catch his gaze. Your hands cradle his face as you smile down at him, your voice soft yet brimming with promise. "You haven’t seen anything yet..."

With methodical grace, you step back, slipping out of his hold. Your fingers find the hem of your top, and in one fluid motion, you pull it over your head, revealing the crimson lace beneath.

The delicate lingerie hugs your curves perfectly, the deep red contrasting beautifully against your skin, and Jungkook's breath hitches audibly. His gaze darkens, pupils blown wide as he drinks you in.

He shifts slightly, unable to mask the effect you have on him, his hands curling into tight fists against the soft mattress. "Like what you see?" you tease, your voice a tantalizing mix of sultry and playful.

Your fingers slowly glide down the column of your neck, before trailing over the swell of your breasts. Your thumb brushes over the delicate lace, accentuating the curves held within.

Jungkook swallows hard, his eyes tracing every inch of your figure with an intensity that makes your skin tingle. He leans back slightly as he remains seated on the bed, propped on his hands, utterly entranced by the sight before him.

You bite your lip, and reach for the hem of your skirt. You take your time, sliding the fabric down and stepping out of it. Jungkook’s gaze lingers, fixated on the curve of your hips and the way the lace of your underwear hugs your form.

His restraint falters, his arousal evident as he shifts again, his erection straining against the confines of his pants, desperate to be freed.

Stepping closer, you stand between his legs again and this time, he’s quick to act, his hands gripping your hips, his fingertips pressing into your warm skin. "You’re so... so gorgeous." he breathes, his voice low and reverent, as he looks up at you like you're the most beautiful thing on this planet.

You lean down, your lips brushing his in a kiss that starts soft but grows in urgency. His hands move instinctively, sliding to the curve of your ass and gripping the soft flesh, pulling you closer because close isn't just close enough for him.

Your fingers trail to the hem of his T-shirt, breaking the kiss just long enough to peel it off him. You toss it carelessly onto the floor, your gaze drinking in the sight of his toned chest and sculpted abs. "Who allowed you to be this fine?" you murmur, your voice low and teasing, though it trembles slightly with the tension between you.

Jungkook smirks, a dark glint in his eyes as he tugs you closer, his hands firm on your waist. This time, his lips find your neck, trailing kisses that are slow and heated, his tongue tracing the delicate line of your collarbone. Your breath hitches as his mouth works its way down, sending sparks through your body.

You clutch his shoulders for support, your knees threatening to give out as his lips descend further. When he kisses the swell of your breasts through the lace of your bra, a shaky exhale escapes you.

"Who allowed you to be this gorgeous?" he counters, his voice husky, laced with desire. His teeth graze your skin as he nips lightly, leaving you breathless and pliant in his arms.

A soft whimper escapes your lips, and for a fleeting moment, you want to give in completely... let him have you right here, right now. But instead, you gently push yourself away from him, taking a shaky step back.

"Let me make you feel good." you whisper, the softness of your tone carrying a promise. You slowly drop to your knees with a smooth grace, the sight making Jungkook’s breath stop as his eyes widen, a flicker of surprise mixing with raw anticipation as he watches you gather your hair in one hand.

Without hesitation, he stands, his movements rushed, almost frantic, as he tugs his pants down and kicks them aside, not forgetting to retrieve the condom from his wallet and placing it on the mattress within reach. His impatience is palpable, every sharp breath and hurried motion conveying the intensity of his need for you.

When Jungkook slips off his boxers and sits back down, you can’t help but take a moment to admire him. His hardened length stands proudly, thick and veined, a bead of precum glistening at the tip. The sight alone makes your mouth water, anticipation pooling low in your belly.

Your hand moves instinctively, fingers curling delicately around his shaft as your thumb brushes over the bead of precum, smearing it across the sensitive tip.

Jungkook's reaction is immediate, primal... his chest rises sharply as he inhales, hips jerking forward slightly at the first touch of your hand. A low hiss escapes his lips, his lashes fluttering closed as if the sensation is almost too much to bear. Your fingers wrap around him, stroking slowly, as if savoring every inch of his heated skin.

When you lean in and your lips brush the tip of his length, he shudders. The warmth of your mouth engulfs him, and a deep, guttural groan rumbles from his chest, raw and unrestrained. "Fuck, baby..." he rasps, the words spilling out like a confession, laced with both need and awe.

You tease him with languid licks, your tongue tracing the ridge of his tip before gliding down his shaft, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. His hand instinctively finds your hair, gathering it back for you with a firm yet gentle grip.

The tension in his thighs is palpable under your palm as you steady yourself against him, your fingers digging into his skin. With the other hand, you wrap around his base, working in tandem with your mouth, your movements slow and unhurried, building the pressure like a symphony reaching its crescendo.

The wet sounds of your tongue, the rhythmic bob of your head, and his broken, breathy groans create a heady atmosphere. His hips twitch involuntarily, his body betraying his restraint as he mutters under his breath. "God, you feel so fucking good."

You hum softly, the vibration eliciting another throaty moan from him. His fingers tighten in your hair, not to control you, but as if anchoring himself against the storm of pleasure coursing through his body. Each movement of your mouth feels like it’s unraveling him piece by piece, leaving him utterly at your mercy.

You glance up at him through your lashes, the sight before you utterly intoxicating. Jungkook’s head is thrown back, his mouth slightly parted, chest rising and falling rapidly, each labored breath igniting a fire deep within you.

The way his body responds to your touch sends a rush of heat coursing through you, your arousal pooling between your thighs, your underwear undeniably damp as you fight the growing urge to touch yourself, to lose yourself in the sounds he’s making.

Spurred on by his reaction, you quicken your pace, your hand and mouth moving in perfect harmony. You take him deeper, testing your limits, each movement fueled by the soft, blissful groans spilling from his lips.

"Shit—" Jungkook groans, his voice raspier now, his grip on your hair tightening as his hips buck involuntarily. He’s losing himself, succumbing to the overwhelming pleasure, his restraint slipping like sand through his fingers. His thigh tenses under your hand, the muscles flexing as his body reacts to your touch.

Your tongue swirls around his tip, savoring the taste of him before you hollow your cheeks and take him deeper, your hand pumping in time with the rhythm of your mouth.

"Fuck, baby, just like that..." he mutters, his voice thick and unsteady, every word a testament to how utterly undone he is. You quicken your movements further, the slide of your lips and the tight grip of your hand driving him closer to the edge.

His moans grow louder, more desperate, as he teeters on the brink. "God, you're gonna make me lose it." he chokes out, his eyes squeezing shut, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of what you're giving him.

You hum in response, the vibration sending a shudder through his body, and you feel him twitch against your tongue, his breaths coming faster, his body tightening, ready to unravel entirely in your hands.

Jungkook's voice is strained, rough with desire as his fingers tighten in your hair, gently pulling you back. "Stop..." he breathes out, his chest heaving, eyes dark and filled with an almost desperate intensity.

"If you keep going, I’m going to cum... and I can’t—" His voice trembling with urgency as his gaze locks onto yours. "I need to feel you, baby. I need to be inside you." The raw intensity in his words sends a shiver racing down your spine.

You release him slowly, your touch lingering on his thigh for a fleeting moment. Your eyes drink him in... the way his chest heaves with every labored breath, his hair damp and sticking messily to his forehead, and his lips, swollen and red from biting down in restraint.

Jungkook’s gaze drops to your glistening lips, the evidence of him clear, and his breath catches in his throat. The way you look up at him, your lashes framing your heavy-lidded eyes, is enough to make him lose control.

His gaze trails further down, taking in the rise and fall of your chest, your breasts drawing his attention with every shallow breath as you try to steady yourself.

"Then take me." you whisper, your voice soft but charged with the same urgency burning in his eyes. You rise to your feet, your fingers trailing up his thighs, then his chest, as you carefully straddle him. His hands find your hips instantly, holding you up.

"God..." he mutters, his head falling back momentarily as he adjusts you in his lap. His hands slide up your sides, grazing the curve of your waist before they settle on your back, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you.

His lips crash against yours, the kiss hungry and all-consuming, his need for you evident in every movement. His hands trail down your sides, slipping beneath the fabric of your underwear as his fingers press into the soft flesh of your hips.

You push yourself against him, kissing him with a fervor that leaves you both breathless. Your lips move together in a heated, desperate rhythm until Jungkook succumbs, falling back onto the mattress with you on top of him.

Your hips begin to grind against his hardened length, eliciting a soft moan from your lips that only spurs him on. His hands tighten around your hips, guiding your movements as his grip becomes possessive, almost needy.

Jungkook’s fingers wander, tracing a tantalizing path to your core. He slips them beneath the thin fabric of your underwear, his touch igniting a fire that courses through your body. “God… you’re soaked.” he rasps, his voice hoarse and laden with desire as he pulls back from the kiss to meet your eyes.

“Only for you.” you reply breathlessly, your gaze locking with his, full of need. That’s all it takes for Jungkook to act. With a growl of impatience, he flips you over effortlessly, trapping you beneath him, the mattress pressing against your back as his body hovers above yours.

The second you’re on your back, his hands are on you, peeling your underwear down with a slowness that has you shaking. He flicks the fabric to the floor, his dark eyes drinking in the sight of you as you spread your legs for him.

The raw hunger in his gaze makes your cheeks flush, but you don’t look away, offering him everything, showing him the effect only he has on you. “Touch me…” you whisper, voice trembling.

“Touch me, Kook, please.” The plea falls from your lips, and he takes a steadying breath as his fingers begin their descent. They trail down the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, teasing, igniting a fire that only he can tame.

He pauses, his gaze lingering on your center, taking in every detail, every sign of your desire for him. “Come here…” His voice is soft yet commanding as he reaches for you, cradling you against his strong arms.

He shifts, sitting back against the headboard and pulling you onto his lap as the back of your head rests against his firm chest. His hands roam your body with a gentle intensity, starting at your stomach, his touch slow and soothing.

His lips graze the shell of your ear, his teeth nipping lightly as his breath tickles your skin. “Spread your legs.” he murmurs, his voice like molten honey. You obey without hesitation, letting your thighs fall open as his hands slide downward, from your stomach to your core.

The sensation sends shivers up your spine, and your lips part as you watch his every move. When he dips a finger into your wetness, your body jerks involuntarily, pressing you back against his chest.

His arms flex around you, holding you securely as he begins to move, skillfully exploring you with care. Each motion pulls soft gasps from your lips, the pleasure building with every passing second.

His finger glides through your folds with an intended precision, igniting sensations that make you whimper and moan. He traces slow circles around your clit, his touch light but electric, sending waves of pleasure radiating through your core.

You tilt your head back against his chest, your lips parted as soft, breathy moans escape you. "So sensitive." he muses, his voice deep and velvety, tinged with awe. He presses a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering as if to ground you, even as his fingers threaten to unravel you completely.

He adds a second finger, his movements measured yet intense, curling them just right to hit the spot that makes you cry out. Your hips lift instinctively, seeking more of him, and he groans at your eagerness.

"That's it, baby." he encourages, his free hand coming up to grip your thigh, holding you steady as he works you over. His thumb brushes against your clit in tandem with his fingers, the combination drawing a sharp gasp from you.

"Kook..." you whimper, your voice trembling as the coil in your stomach tightens with every pass of his skilled fingers. "Keep saying my name." he urges, his voice low and commanding. "I want to hear you when you fall apart for me."

Your head tilts to the side, and he takes the opportunity to kiss along your neck, his lips leaving a trail of heat against your skin. His teeth graze your pulse point, his tongue soothing the spot before he sucks lightly, marking you in a way that makes you shiver.

"You're so perfect, love." he whispers against your skin. "So fucking perfect... and all mine." His words make your heart race, and you find yourself clinging to him, your nails digging into his forearm as the pleasure builds to an almost unbearable peak.

The tension in your core spirals tighter and tighter until it feels like you might snap. "Baby... I... I'm so close." you manage to stammer as he mercilessly pushes his fingers into you. "Let go, baby." he coaxes, his pace never faltering. "I've got you."

With his encouragement, the coil finally snaps, and you cry out his name, your body trembling as the waves of your climax crash over you. He doesn't stop, drawing out every last bit of your pleasure as he holds you through it, his strong arms clutching you to him.

As the aftershocks ripple through you, you collapse against his chest, your breaths ragged and uneven. Jungkook brushes a hand through your hair, his touch soothing as he presses gentle kisses to your cheek and neck.

"You’re incredible." he whispers, his voice soft now, filled with adoration. Still dazed, you tilt your head up to meet his gaze. His dark eyes are filled with a warmth that makes your heart flutter, and as he leans down to kiss you, it’s slow and tender, a stark contrast to the fire that just consumed you.

But the hunger in his gaze remains, and when his lips leave yours, he smirks, his hands already beginning to roam again. "We’re not done yet." he says. "I still need to feel you around me, baby."

Your instantly nod, allowing him to guide you with a quiet confidence that makes your pulse race. Jungkook reaches for the condom on the mattress, his fingers deft as he tears it open. There’s an almost reverent care in the way he rolls it on, his eyes flicking to yours.

As you sit on the mattress, your fingers move to your back, unclasping your bra and letting it fall away, exposing your bare chest to him. His gaze locks onto you as he gulps, trying to steady himself. The way his eyes roam over you, drinking in every curve, every detail, makes your skin heat under his attention.

"You’re so beautiful." he murmurs, almost to himself, his voice husky with desire. His hands twitch at his sides as if he’s fighting the urge to just pounce on you, to just devour you. “You ready, baby?” he asks, his tone gentle, though the raw need beneath it is unmistakable.

“Yes.” you breathe, the single word carrying all the trust, the yearning, the connection between you. Your hands find his shoulders as he leans forward, hovering above you.

His body radiates warmth, his eyes searching yours as he dips his head, capturing your lips in a soft kiss that quickly turns heated.

As he carefully lines himself up with your entrance, he begins to push inside, inch by inch, filling you completely. The sensation draws a groan from both of you, as your bodies adjust to the intimate connection.

Your walls envelop him perfectly, warm and snug, making him curse under his breath. His forehead rests briefly against yours, his jaw tight as he savors the feeling of being joined with you in the most profound way.

“God, you feel... you feel so good.” he murmurs, his voice trembling as he begins to move, his hips rolling in slow, delicious thrusts. Each push, each plunge, is a silent declaration of his love for you, communicated through the way he holds you, the way his body seeks yours.

Your back arches, a soft moan spilling from your lips as his pace gradually builds. His hands grip your hips, steadying you as he moves with a rhythm that feels like it was made for you alone. \

“Jungkook…” you gasp, your voice a mix of need and adoration, and his dark eyes meet yours, filled with a fierce, unrelenting love that makes your heart clench. “I love you.” he whispers, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, his thrusts never faltering. “I’ll always love you... fuck.”

//

"Wait, whaaat?" Yoongi’s voice drags, a blend of disbelief and curiosity as he lifts a fry between his fingers. "So, was she like, 'You will never be enough for my daughter.' or was she more like..." He pauses, slowly placing the fry back in the basket.

With a dramatic flourish, he twirls his fingers in the air in front of Jungkook's face. "Youuuu..." he emphasizes, stretching the word. "Youuuu will never be good enough for my daughter?" he asks, each syllable punctuated for maximum effect.

Jungkook exhales sharply rolling his eyes, his fingers absently picking at the fries in the basket, flicking them with a bit too much carelessness. "It’s... more like the second one." he murmurs, his eyes flickering up to meet Yoongi’s.

“Oh…” Yoongi exhales as he leans back against the worn leather booth, his arms crossing over his chest. For a moment, the ambient hum of clinking silverware and murmured conversations from the surrounding tables fills the silence between them.

It had been two days since dumpling day and the amazing night he had spent with you, but the interaction with your mother from that day still lingers in Jungkook's mind like a stubborn shadow.

The rehearsal dinner had happened just yesterday and thankfully it had gone off without any major hiccups, thanks to his unwavering focus on sticking close to you and limiting his interactions to just your cousins, Namjoon and Seokjin.

But even in the warmth of the evening, Jungkook could feel it... the sharp, unwavering gaze of your mother drilling into him from across the room. It had his palms sweating beneath the table, his throat dry despite the steady flow of wine he forced himself to sip.

The entire time, he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was just waiting for him to slip up, to give her ammunition for whatever silent judgment she harbored.

Now, hours before the actual wedding, the weight of it all is threatening to crush him. If her stare alone had him doubting himself last night, what would it be like during the actual ceremony? The thought of enduring her scrutiny throughout the night has his stomach churning with dread.

And what if she says something to him again? What if her disdain becomes so apparent that everyone else notices? Because her dismissal doesn’t just cut at him, it chips away at the foundation of the love and happiness you’ve both built together.

Jungkook tries to remind himself of everything else. The way your eyes light up when you look at him, the way your cousins laugh at his jokes, the endless reassurances from you that he belongs here, that he’s enough. And yet, the knot in his chest refuses to loosen.

"Well, honestly, I just think it's typical rich mom behavior. She’s probably bitter that her daughter’s found happiness in something that wasn’t part of her perfect plan, you know?" Yoongi says, his tone steady but with an underlying hint of frustration.

Jungkook sighs heavily, his head resting in his hands as his elbows slouch against the table. "I feel like I shouldn’t even go to the wedding." he mutters. There’s a heaviness in the way his words hang in the air, as if he’s been carrying the thought for far too long.

"You know, it’s Taehyung’s and Miyoen’s day. I don’t wanna cause any drama there or make it all awkward." The weight of his self-doubt presses his shoulders into a slump, his body folding in on itself as though he’s trying to make himself smaller, less visible.

He exhales sharply, his breath fogging the edge of the coffee cup he’s been nursing for the last hour. Yoongi leans back in his seat, arms crossed, one eyebrow slightly arched in annoyance. He doesn’t interrupt, waiting for Jungkook to finish.

Jungkook’s voice falters as he continues, his eyes fixed on the chipped edge of the table. "I feel like I should just sit it out, you know? Maybe tell Y/n I had food poisoning or something."

He glances up tentatively, only to find Yoongi’s gaze boring into him with a mix of incredulity and irritation. Jungkook shifts uncomfortably under the weight of it. "What?" he asks softly, sitting up straighter as if trying to defend himself against the silent judgment.

"That’s bullshit." Yoongi says flatly. He leans forward, his forearms resting on the table as he fixes Jungkook with a sharp, unrelenting stare. "You’re just scared."

The accusation makes Jungkook bristle. "No, I’m not." he shoots back quickly, his defensive tone undercut by the way he shoves a fry into his mouth, chewing furiously as if the act will shield him from further scrutiny.

Yoongi doesn’t back down. His gaze sharpens, and his voice takes on a calculated edge as he gestures pointedly with his hands. "Okay, here’s what you need to understand, alright?" He pauses, giving Jungkook no room to interrupt. "It’s not about getting Y/n’s mom to like you. It’s about getting her to respect you, alright?"

Jungkook’s brow furrows slightly, his posture rigid as Yoongi’s words sink in. "Right now..." Yoongi continues, his tone growing more intense. "She just thinks you’re some undeserving, clueless, gold-digging—"

"Yeah, I got it." Jungkook mutters, cutting him off with a tired nod, but Yoongi isn’t done. "... trashy, unrefined... banana." he continues.

The insult lands with a dull thud in the conversation, and Jungkook lets out a long sigh, shaking his head. "Yellow on the outside, white on the inside." Yoongi clarifies, his expression stoic. (A/N: as an asian myself, i'm not trying to be racist, THESE ARE ALL PEIK LIN'S LINES FROM THE MOVIE)

Jungkook clicks his tongue in annoyance. "I know what a banana is." he snaps, rolling his eyes, though there’s no real heat in his voice, just a resigned frustration. Yoongi leans back slightly, his sharp gaze unyielding.

"She just thinks you’re this whitewashed Korean American who’s lost touch with your roots, all westernized and disconnected." He gestures vaguely with one hand, as if painting the picture of Jungkook that exists in your mother’s mind.

"When, in reality..." Yoongi’s voice grows louder, more insistent. "You’re this super smart, highly professional photographer in freaking New York City." He smacks Jungkook’s arm lightly, the gesture more encouraging than chastising. "Show her that side of you, you know?"

For the first time, Jungkook’s shoulders relax slightly. His head tilts up, and his eyes meet Yoongi’s with a flicker of renewed determination. "You’re right." he says softly, the words carrying the weight of reluctant acceptance.

"Damn straight, I’m right." Yoongi scoffs, leaning back with a self-satisfied smirk. "It's Min Yoongi. I’m always right." he quickly adds with a shurg.

"Yeah... she’s like trying to play a game of chicken with me." Jungkook says, his tone thoughtful but tinged with frustration. Yoongi nods subtly, his lips pursed as he listens, but Jungkook isn’t done.

"Where she’s like… coming at me and like, thinking I’m going to swerve like a chicken." Jungkook continues, his voice rising slightly as he gestures loosely with his hands, mimicking the imagined confrontation.

"But you can’t SWERVE." Yoongi declares with absolute certainty as he sharply shakes his finger, his tone firm as though it’s a universal truth.

Jungkook straightens slightly in his seat, nodding in agreement. "I’m not gonna swerve. Not for her." he says, the determination in his voice growing stronger with each word.

"No, chickens are bitches, dude!" Yoongi scoffs, his voice louder now, his expression incredulous as though the very idea of "swerving" is beneath them both.

Jungkook shakes his head, his lips pressing into a thin line. "And I’m not a chicken." he says quietly, the words laced with a steely resolve.

"You’re not a chicken." Yoongi affirms, leaning forward as he locks eyes with Jungkook. "You’re gonna roll up to that wedding, and you’re gonna be like… BAK-BAK, BITCH!" Yoongi exclaims, his eyes wide as if delivering sage advice disguised in absurdity.

Jungkook, caught up in the moment, echoes the phrase, his voice steadier now. "Bak-bak, bitch."

Yoongi bursts out laughing, his cackle loud and infectious. "Chickens are bitches!" he yells and the outburst is so sudden and jarring that a few heads turn from the nearby tables, the clinking of silverware momentarily pausing as the other diners glance their way as the two boys snort, giggling to themselves.

Realizing they’ve drawn unwanted attention, Yoongi raises his hands apologetically, still chuckling under his breath. "Sorry, guys." he mutters to the other patrons, his voice laced with poorly concealed amusement. He bites down on his grin, his eyes glinting mischievously as he turns back to Jungkook.

The laughter between them fades slowly, leaving a lingering warmth in the air as Jungkook leans back in his seat, the corners of his lips still twitching from their shared joke. He looks at Yoongi for a moment, his gaze thoughtful before his expression turns slightly nervous.

"What are you doing tonight?" he asks suddenly. Yoongi raises an eyebrow, leaning back with a casual shrug. "I was gonna go play video games or something. Why?" he replies, his tone nonchalant but tinged with curiosity.

Jungkook shifts slightly in his seat, his fingers brushing against the edge of the table as he hesitates for a second. Then, he looks up, his eyes almost hopeful.

"Help me get dressed for the wedding. You know... just like you did for the tea ceremony." he says, his voice softer, almost like he’s asking for more than just wardrobe assistance, like he’s asking for backup in a battle he��s not sure he can face alone.

Yoongi’s eyes light up instantly, his grin widening into something almost devilish. It’s as if this is the moment he’s been waiting for. He leans forward, resting his forearms on the table as he stares Jungkook down, his grin only growing wider.

"Oh, you’re in for a ride, baby."

//

"You look absolutely stunning, Miyeon." you say softly, a genuine smile gracing your lips as you take in her reflection in the mirror. The day of the much-anticipated wedding has finally arrived, and as both the groom's sister and the bride's best friend, you’re honored to play the role of bridesmaid.

Miyeon stands in front of the mirror, radiant in her luxurious wedding gown. The fabric hugs her figure perfectly, the intricate lace and beadwork shimmering under the warm lighting. Her eyes glisten with a mixture of excitement and nerves, and you can’t help but feel a swell of pride at how breathtaking she looks.

Her parents linger in the room, their eyes filled with emotion as they fuss over her veil. Realizing they might need a moment alone, you quietly excuse yourself, stepping out onto the balcony just outside Miyeon's dressing room.

The afternoon breeze greets you as you lean against the railing, your eyes sweeping over the scene below. The wedding venue’s grand entrance is a hive of activity.

Cars pull up one after another, releasing a stream of notable figures ranging from celebrities to politicians to business tycoons... all dressed to impress. The press hovers near the barricades, the paparazzi relentlessly snapping photos of every arrival.

You pull out your phone from your clutch, glancing at the time. It’s nearly 4 PM, and you find yourself wondering where Jungkook is. He had mentioned meeting Yoongi for lunch earlier, especially because the two of you were set to leave Daegu two days after the wedding.

Smiling to yourself, you dial his number, and he picks up almost immediately. "Hey, baby, where are you?" you ask, your voice light with curiosity. "Hi, love." Jungkook replies, his tone warm and familiar. "I’m on my way. Yoongi was helping me get dressed."

Your smile widens as a soft chuckle escapes your lips. "Oh really? Babe, if you wanted new clothes, you could’ve just told me." you tease, a playful lilt in your voice.

Jungkook laughs on the other end, the sound making your heart flutter. "Oh, I think I could just use Yoongi’s expert fashion advice for free." he counters, his voice laced with humor.

"Saying this when you have a fashion designer girlfriend…" you trail off, feigning offense. "Wow, Kook. Maybe you should just date Yoongi." You can hear the grin in his voice as he responds. "Don’t tempt me, love. He did make me look pretty sharp today."

You laugh softly, turning around to lean your back against the cool railing. "Anyways, you’ll be here soon, right?" you ask, your voice light but laced with a hint of impatience. "Of course, cutie." Jungkook replies, his tone playful and warm. "Send me pictures. I want to see how you look."

You giggle, unable to stop yourself from imagining the grin on his face as he says it. "Nuh-uh." you tease, shaking your head even though he can’t see you. "Why don’t you come see for yourself?"

He groans dramatically, a soft whine escaping through the phone. "Fine." he admits with mock defeat, and you can practically hear the pout in his voice. You can’t help but laugh at how endearing he sounds. "I’ll see you soon, okay?" he says, his voice dropping into something softer, more sincere. "I love you."

Your chest feels warm, a smile tugging at your lips so wide it’s as if he’s right there, seeing it for himself. "I love you too." you reply, your voice equally tender.

//

"Look at that crowd." Yoongi breathes out, his voice laced with disbelief as he glances at the swarm of people buzzing near the barricades outside the wedding venue.

The car moves slowly past the chaos, the low hum of the engine almost drowned out by the excited murmur of the spectators and the clicking of cameras.

Jungkook's gaze is fixed ahead, his jaw tightening as he takes in the scene of paparazzi standing in clusters around the grand entrance and outside the huge gates. His stomach churns with unease, but he keeps his expression neutral, masking the nerves bubbling beneath the surface.

"Holy fuck, isn’t that Gong Yoo?" Yoongi exclaims as he continues to drive, his head turning to follow the tall, impeccably dressed actor moving through the crowd. "No way he’s here too."

Jungkook barely registers Yoongi’s excitement, his focus locked on the entrance and the daunting spectacle awaiting him. The weight of the moment presses down heavily on his chest, but a mantra loops in his mind. Don’t swerve. Don’t swerve.

Once Yoongi enters through the gates, the car slows as he pulls up right in front of the hall's huge entrance. He cuts the engine and turns to Jungkook, his expression softening as he sees the tension etched across his friend’s face. "You got this, man." he says, tapping Jungkook’s thigh in a gesture of encouragement.

Jungkook swallows hard, forcing a tight-lipped smile as he nods. His hand hovers over the door handle, hesitating for a brief moment before gripping it firmly. "Thanks a lot, Yoongi." he murmurs, voice steady despite the flutter of anxiety in his chest.

As soon as he steps out, the world explodes into noise and light. The crowd erupts in cheers, and the paparazzi go into a frenzy, their voices overlapping as they call out for his attention. Jungkook takes a deep breath, standing straighter as he adjusts the lapels of his Gucci blazer.

The suit Yoongi helped him pick is immaculate... a sleek, tailored masterpiece in dark green with subtle gold accents along the cuffs and collar. It fits him like a glove, exuding quiet luxury without screaming for attention.

Jungkook’s feet carry him onto the red carpet that stretches like a lifeline towards the grand entrance. A cameraman calls out for him to pause, and he obliges, though his movements are awkward and unsure. He shifts his weight, not quite knowing what to do with his hands or where to direct his gaze.

He’s used to being behind the camera, crafting moments rather than being the subject of them. But somehow, he manages a polite smile, inclining his head slightly as the flashes intensify. After a few long seconds, he mutters a soft "thank you" to the photographers and begins walking again.

The crowd’s noise fades slightly as he nears the entrance, and that’s when he spots a familiar figure, Wooyoung. The man is posing confidently in front of another camera, basking in the attention like it’s his natural habitat.

Jungkook feels his jaw tighten as he watches Wooyoung smirk and adjust his designer tie, clearly reveling in the moment.

As Jungkook strides closer, Wooyoung’s sharp eyes catch his approach. His smirk widens, and he tilts his head, feigning surprise. "Oh..." Wooyoung drawls, his voice dripping with mockery. "Well, well, didn’t expect to see you here."

Jungkook halts just short of the man, his expression unreadable as he regards him coolly. His voice is low and flat when he speaks. "Wooyoung." He inclines his head slightly, his tone devoid of warmth. "You’re in my way."

Wooyoung’s grin falters for a split second but Jungkook doesn’t spare him another glance, his shoulder brushing deliberately against Wooyoung’s as he passes. The last thing Jungkook wants to do is give a man like Wooyoung, his attention.

As Jungkook steps into the grand hall, he’s momentarily taken aback. The venue is nothing short of spectacular, with cascading floral arrangements, chandeliers that glitter like constellations, and a soft golden glow that bathes everything in an ethereal light.

The decorations are opulent yet tasteful, exuding a sense of timeless elegance that leaves him in awe. His gaze sweeps across the hall, taking in the clusters of impeccably dressed guests mingling and chatting. He notes a few familiar faces but doesn’t linger on any of them, his attention is drawn elsewhere.

It’s then that he spots her.

By the far end of the room, near the ornately decorated stage, stands your mother. She’s a vision of poise in her traditional hanbok, the delicate embroidery catching the warm light. Her elegant appearance is nearly overshadowed by the sharpness of her gaze, which is locked squarely on him.

Jungkook feels his breath hitch. The look she’s giving him is unmistakable, icy and unwavering, a silent declaration of her disapproval. Despite the distance, her piercing eyes cut through the space between them, and for a moment, he falters.

Clenching his jaw, Jungkook forces himself to stand tall. He refuses to let her intimidation get the better of him, he refuses to swerve even if his heart races in his chest. He looks away intentionally, seeking a lifeline, and thankfully, he finds one.

Seated a few rows ahead, Seokjin is scrolling through his phone, completely oblivious to Jungkook’s inner turmoil. As Jungkook approaches, Seokjin looks up, and his face breaks into a wide grin.

"Hey, man !!" Seokjin calls out, standing to greet him. Jungkook smiles, grateful for the reprieve, as Seokjin pulls him into a quick hug. "Damn, dude, this suit looks so good on you !!" Seokjin exclaims, giving him an approving pat on the back.

Jungkook chuckles, his tension easing slightly. "Thanks, hyung." he says as they both take their seats. Jungkook exhales, feeling a bit more at ease. This is good. This is manageable. All he needs to do is stick close to the people he knows, at least until you’re done with your bridesmaid duties.

He glances around the room again, this time with a bit more confidence. This is going to be fine, he tells himself. Repeating it like a mantra, he resolves to get through the evening, one moment at a time.

Time seems to stretch and blur as anticipation builds in the room. Soon, the quiet hum of conversations fades as the guests begin taking their seats.

A soft, ethereal melody starts to play, floating gently through the air as the lights dim. The atmosphere transforms into something almost magical, the golden glow of the chandeliers now subdued, casting a romantic haze over the venue.

Jungkook’s eyes drift towards the stage, where Taehyung stands tall and poised. Dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, his hair slicked back, he exudes a sense of effortless charm.

Taehyung’s expression is calm but expectant, his gaze fixed on the grand white doors at the far end of the hall. His lips quirk slightly, betraying the sheer joy and anticipation he feels as he waits for the moment his bride walks down the aisle.

Jungkook leans back in his seat, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. His heart feels light as he watches the scene unfold. The soft rustling of fabric and the delicate sound of heels clicking against the floor signal the beginning of the bridal procession.

Two little girls, the flower girls, step into view first, each carrying small baskets overflowing with petals. They walk down the aisle with practiced grace, scattering the petals with elegance.

The faint murmurs of admiration ripple through the crowd, and Jungkook can’t help but chuckle softly at the way their serious expressions contrast with their tiny frames.

Following them, two bridesmaids glide down the aisle, their dresses flowing like liquid silk with every step. They move in perfect sync, their presence adding to the dreamy ambiance of the moment.

Jungkook’s attention snaps back to the white doors. His pulse quickens slightly, a subtle thrill running through him because he knows you’ll be stepping through them soon.

And then, as if time itself holds its breath, the white doors slowly swing open, revealing you in all your breathtaking beauty. The melody crescendos, wrapping around the room like a soft embrace, but to Jungkook, all sound fades. It feels as though the world has narrowed down to you alone.

You step forward, a delicate bouquet cradled in your hands, each flower chosen with care, adding to the ethereal glow that seems to radiate from you.

Your dress flows like a whispered dream, each movement making the fabric shimmer under the soft golden light. It hugs you in all the right places, the detailed lace and beadwork glinting like stardust, while the sheer layers of tulle give it an almost otherworldly grace.

Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat, his heart pounding as if it’s trying to leap out of his chest. The first sight of you is like a revelation, something so beautiful it feels almost unreal. His eyes soften, the corners of his lips curving into a small, awe-filled smile.

You don’t notice him... your gaze is fixed ahead, your step poised with grace as you make your way down the aisle. Each step you take seems to echo with the beat of his heart, louder and faster with every passing second.

Jungkook leans back slightly, his shoulders relaxing as he allows himself to take you in fully. His gaze follows you, never faltering, as if he’s afraid he might miss even a second of this moment. To him, you look like an angel who has somehow found her way to earth, gracing everyone with her presence.

The soft light dances on your features, highlighting the gentle curve of your smile, the serene confidence in your stride, and the subtle glow that surrounds you. It’s as if the universe itself has conspired to make you shine just for him in this instant.

As you pass him, Jungkook feels his chest tighten, overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of his emotions. His hands grip the edges of his seat as he sits there, utterly captivated, his thoughts a chaotic mess of disbelief and gratitude.

How did I get so lucky? he wonders, his heart swelling with pride and adoration. It’s a question he’s asked himself countless times, but today, in this moment, it feels more poignant than ever.

He watches you continue down the aisle, and for a fleeting moment, he’s certain that nothing in the world could ever compare to this... to you.

Once you finally reach the side of the stage, you turn to face the audience. Your smile remains unwavering, glowing with the joy of the moment, but deep down, your heart flutters with a singular hope... to find one pair of eyes in the sea of faces.

Your gaze sweeps across the crowd, scanning row after row until, finally, you find him. Jungkook is seated just a few rows from the stage, and as if he’s been waiting for this very moment, his eyes are already locked onto you.

There’s a dreamy softness in his gaze, a look you know all too well. It’s the look that has always made your heart race, the one that speaks of quiet adoration and unspoken promises.

The corners of your lips curve higher, your smile widening instinctively as your eyes meet his. And just like that, the world seems to melt away.

Jungkook smiles back at you, his expression filled with fondness, his dimples making an appearance as if to underline the tenderness in his heart. It’s a look that makes your pulse quicken, your heart tumbling over itself in response.

The music swells, becoming more vibrant, more ethereal, and your attention is drawn to the white doors as they open once again. This time, it’s Miyeon, radiant and breathtaking, walking arm-in-arm with her father.

Her gown flows like a cascade of clouds, each step more graceful than the last. A collective gasp ripples through the audience, followed by murmurs of admiration as they take in her surreal beauty.

The setting feels magical... soft lights casting a warm glow, petals scattered across the aisle, and the faint scent of flowers lingering in the air. There’s something about the intimacy of the ceremony, the heartfelt authenticity of the moment, that makes it all feel like a scene from a storybook.

Yet, while everyone else marvels at Miyeon, Jungkook’s gaze remains steadfast on you. He watches the subtle shift in your expression as you look at Miyeon... the way your eyes soften, glistening with affection and pride as your best friend walks closer and closer to the stage.

As Miyeon finally reaches Taehyung, the priest begins the ceremony with a solemn yet tender tone. Words of love and unity fill the air, binding everyone in the room to the sacredness of the moment.

When Taehyung gently pulls Miyeon closer and kisses her, the crowd erupts into applause. The music swells again, a harmonious blend of joy and celebration.

You feel a tear slip down your cheek, overwhelmed by the beauty of it all. This is love, you think, pure and true, and as you instinctively turn to find Jungkook in the audience, your heart skips a beat.

He’s already looking at you, his expression soft, his eyes reflecting every ounce of emotion you feel. You smile at him, unable to hold back the rush of affection that floods your chest. It feels surreal, like a dream you never want to wake up from.

“I love you.” you mouth, hoping he can see it, that he can feel it. Jungkook’s response is almost immediate. His lips move silently, forming the words with absolute clarity. “I love you.”

The after-party of the wedding is nothing short of a blast. The dance floor is alive with energy, guests lost in the rhythm as the music pulses through the venue.

Taehyung and Miyeon are the stars of the night, twirling at the center, their chemistry undeniable as they share an intimate, joyful dance.

Amidst the excitement, you roam around the crowd, trying to find Jungkook but before you can spot him, he spots you. Without a word, he steps towards you, his arms slipping around your waist from behind as he gently pulls you into him.

You gasp at the sudden contact but instantly melt into the warmth of his embrace, feeling the soft press of his lips on your shoulder. “You look spectacular tonight.” he murmurs into your ear, his voice low and warm.

You giggle, turning around to face him, your palms resting on the soft fabric of his blazer. His presence, the way he carries himself with confidence and charm, makes your heart flutter. “You’re the one talking...” you reply, your smile playful.

“I must say…” You trail off, a teasing glint in your eyes. “Yoongi’s pretty good at this.” you add, arching an eyebrow, referring to the “free fashion advice” Jungkook had mentioned earlier.

Jungkook chuckles, his hand resting on your waist as he leans in closer, his lips curling into a grin. “Oh, he’s got his ways.” he admits, shrugging lightly. “But I think I’ve got a little bit of style myself, don’t you think?”

You laugh softly, running your fingers over the fine details of his suit, admiring the way it fits him perfectly. “You definitely do.” you tease, pulling him just a bit closer as the music continues to swirl around you both.

The night proceeds and soon, the music shifts, the soft, romantic melody filling the space, and for a moment, it feels like it's just the two of you. Jungkook holds you close, his arms securely wrapped around you, swaying gently with the rhythm as the both of you slow dance together.

The warmth of his chest is soothing against your cheek as you rest your head there, your body moving in sync with his. The moment feels like it’s suspended in time, as if the world around you fades into the background.

His lips press a tender kiss on the crown of your head, and a soft sigh escapes your lips. Everything about this... this closeness, this peace, this love, is perfect. You wish it could last forever.

But just as you're lost in the serenity of the dance, the moment is shattered by the soft call of an unfamiliar voice. "Miss Kim." the voice says, calm yet insistent.

You reluctantly pull away from Jungkook, your gaze shifting towards the source of the interruption. A maid, standing nearby, looks at you with polite composure. "Your grandmother and your mother would like to meet you and Mr. Jeon." she announces, her tone professional.

Jungkook glances down at you, his brows knitting together in silent confusion. He doesn't say a word, but the unspoken question in his eyes is clear. You exhale softly, a wave of uncertainty tightening in your chest as you try to steady yourself. What could this possibly be about? Why now, of all times?

The timing feels so random, so abrupt, and the questions swirling in your mind only add to your unease. After a few moments of quiet speculation, you glance up at him briefly before turning to the maid. With a small, composed nod, you signal your agreement to meet them.

As Jungkook walks hand in hand with you, following the maid, the lively rhythm of the party fades into the background with each step away from the dance floor. An uneasy tension settles in his chest, and he can’t help but feel a growing sense of anxiety.

Why had your mom and especially your grandmother asked to see the two of you so randomly? The journey to the secluded room at the end of the hall feels strangely heavier, the air thick with tension.

When you reach the door, you spot your grandmother, seated on a grand, velvet sofa. She looks regal, as always, but her expression is unreadable, her eyes sharp.

Standing beside her is your mother, holding a sheet of paper, her face a mask of seriousness. There’s something unsettling about her demeanor, the way her eyes narrow at the sight of you.

"Mama? Grammy?" you call out, your voice laced with confusion as you approach them, Jungkook quietly following behind. You try to maintain composure, but the unease in your chest only grows stronger.

"What’s this all about?" you ask, standing directly in front of them, your gaze flicking between your mother’s serious expression and your grandmother’s unreadable one.

"Jungkook." your grandmother suddenly calls out, her voice sharp. Jungkook stiffens beside you, his shoulders straightening as his name falls from her lips. He bows slightly, his respect unwavering despite the unease creeping up his spine.

"I've only known you for a short time, but it's clear you're a smart man." She pauses, her sharp eyes fixed on Jungkook. He hesitates, unsure whether to take it as a compliment and offer a polite smile, or brace himself for what might follow. Instead, he chooses to remain silent, waiting for her to continue.

"But I will not permit you to ruin my granddaughter and our family's reputation." she states. Jungkook’s jaw tightens, but he remains silent. You, however, feel your heart lurch in your chest. "Grammy, what... what are you saying?" you ask, your voice cracking slightly.

"I'm sorry to tell you, Y/n... but Jungkook here has been hiding a lot about his family... or should I say... his mother." your mother interjects, her voice slicing through the room like a blade. Her gaze shifts to Jungkook, and there’s a cruel sharpness in her eyes.

Jungkook's lips part, struggling to grasp the weight of the accusation. "What are you..." he begins, shaking his head as his throat tightens, words catching in his chest. "What are you talking ab—?"

But before he can finish, your mother cuts him off, her sharp voice already filling the room again. "I hired a private investigator to look into his past—" "Mama, you didn’t !!" you snap, stepping forward, your voice trembling with a mix of fury and disbelief.

Your mother barely spares you a glance, her focus unwavering as she continues speaking. "Your mother... was working for one of our smaller corporate branches in Busan. She wasn’t just an employee... she was involved in an affair with her manager. That alone is disgraceful, but it doesn’t stop there."

Jungkook’s eyes widen, the accusation hitting him like a physical blow. He looks like he’s about to speak, but your mother barrels on. "She became a whistleblower." your mother states, her voice venomous.

"She leaked confidential company information, information that implicated our company in a scandal. She betrayed the very people who gave her a livelihood. And when the consequences started closing in, she fled to New York—with you."

Jungkook flinches at her words, his face paling. His lips part, but no sound comes out. You see the torment in his eyes, the way he’s struggling to process the weight of the accusations against his mother... against himself.

Your chest tightens as you turn to him, your hand instinctively reaching for his. "Jungkook..." you whisper, but he doesn’t meet your gaze. His head is lowered, his jaw clenched so tightly you can see the muscle ticking in his cheek.

"It’s all in here." your mother says, extending the paper in her hands towards you. "Every detail. Every reason why this boy and his family are a liability to ours."

You snatch the paper from her hand, the anger in your veins nearly boiling over. Without even looking at the contents, you crumple it, the paper crinkling loudly in your fist. "You had no right, Mama !!" you say, your voice trembling with rage.

"We had every right." your mother counters, her voice icy. "Do you have any idea what kind of damage this could bring to our family, Y/n? To our reputation? To allow someone like him into our lives—"

"Someone like him?" you cut her off, your voice rising. "You don’t even know him! You don’t know what kind of person he is!"

"Y/n." your grandmother says, her voice calm but firm. "This isn’t about who Jungkook is as a person. This is about what he represents. A future filled with uncertainty. Scandal. You have responsibilities, my dear, and they don’t include risking everything for..." She pauses, her gaze falling on Jungkook, her disdain evident. "For someone whose past is built on deceit."

Jungkook finally speaks, his voice quiet but heavy with emotion. "I didn’t know..." he says, his gaze fixed on the floor. "I didn’t know about any of this."

Your mother lets out a mirthless laugh. "Of course you didn’t. And yet, here you are, dragging my daughter into your mess." she says. "Stop it!" you yell, stepping forward as tears blur your vision. "This isn’t his fault! None of this is his fault!"

"Y/n..." your mother says, her voice softening slightly, as if trying to reason with you. "We cannot be linked to this sort of family."

Jungkook’s head snaps up at this, his eyes locking onto your mother’s with a fiery intensity that burns through the tension in the room.

For a brief moment, silence stretches thin, heavy with unspoken words. Then his voice cuts through, low and steady.

"I don’t want any part of your family."

<-part 5

series masterlist

taglist: @mirinaeii @taetaecatboy @tsukiesimp @lovingkoalaface @taekrve @jaytheatiny @loverofannabeth @jaerisdiction @whoa-jo @parkinglot-nights @reneeblack6230 @rrosiitas @shellyyy177 @majesticjung-97

[pomefioredove]

omg i LOVE the concept of cookies as asks so can i have a sugar cookie, #8, with chocolate drizzle and marshmallows thank yeww 🙏

t-t-total idia victory!

order #8, sugar with chocolate drizzle and marshmallows

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ internet connection

tropes: ex (mutuals) to lovers, roommate au characters: idia additional info: romantic, gender neutral reader, reader is yuu

It was the closest experience to dating Idia had ever gotten, and likely the only experience he'd ever get again.

Three months.

Three perfect, blissful months.

That's 13.0357 weeks, 91.2501 days, 2,190 hours of chats, voice calls, and texts with someone he had almost considered his.

He was raising his confidence stats to ask them out when they sent him a message, which would be their last:

"router busted. sry. will get it fixed soon"

That was weeks ago.

Idia couldn't blame them. They were going to get tired of him eventually, and ghosting him, sucky as it was, was still the easiest way to let him down.

Then, at least, he could pretend that they were telling the truth.

"Come on, Idy! This is your chance! You'll never get over them if you never meet anyone else!"

Ortho's cheery, hopeful words twist Idia's stomach with guilt. He knows that. Of course he knows that.

He buries himself deeper into his blankets. "I don't want anyone else,"

"It's only for a few weeks. Maybe you'll make friends!"

Unlikely. Idia doesn't have the social XP for that. Who would want to be friends with him, anyway?

He can't even keep Magicord mutuals.

Then again, he has no other choice.

The Prefect had asked to stay somewhere with a high-speed internet connection while post-S.T.Y.X. Ramshackle was being repaired, and Ortho had volunteered Idia.

And his room.

Ugh. Why can't anything go right for once?

Idia hides under his covers like a small child, drowning the sound of the door and voices in PreMo.

He honestly doesn't know a lot about you. He doesn't get out much, and even if he did, you've always got those OP normie friends around you.

He knows you don't talk much. He's actually never heard you talk at all.

Whatever.

Idia only emerges from his blankets when his ears are ringing from the music and his body is sore from stillness.

He takes off his headphones and reads the room.

There's Ortho, projecting a beam of light on the wall, and there's Grim, chasing it, and there's you.

You seem a little out of place, awkwardly sitting on the floor when there are chairs and tables, your bags still at your sides, unpacked.

Something about you makes him feel at ease. Weird.

"Oh- Idy!" Ortho chimes. Idia jumps, and then everyone is looking at him. Crap.

"We were wondering when you'd come out! The Prefect has a question for you!"

You give Ortho a panicked look, as if to say you most certainly did not have a question for him. Idia has his own suspicions.

"About the Wi-Fi," Ortho chimes. "They really need to get online."

Idia narrows his eyes. His brother can handle something as simple as that.

"...O-okay," he mumbles. "I guess."

He reluctantly gets out of bed and sits beside you. At least with an objective, he isn't so nervous. You hand him your phone, some sad secondhand thing, and he puts in the password for you.

"Lemme know if it's slow. I've been working on upgrading the router, and it's been a little laggy," he hands your phone to you.

"Shouldn't be a problem, though."

You take it. "I can't complain, I don't have a router at all right now,"

Idia's face turns red.

His eyes go wide.

He can't place it, at first. What's that weird feeling? What is it about you-

You notice his expression. "Uh... did I say something?"

And when you speak again, just like that, Idia jumps to his feet.

"IT-IT'S YOU!"

"You?" Grim asks.

"You?" Ortho echoes.

"Me?"

Idia feels like he's losing his mind, his anxiety cracking and breaking away, shock taking its place.

"Y-yes, you! I know that voice! Don't you- you recognize mine too, don't you?!"

Your eyes widen.

"Oh... no... no way,"

"I-I can't believe this!" he says, suddenly grinning. "You weren't lying about the router, it must've got totally busted when S.T.Y.X- oh, crap. IT'S ALL MY FAULT!"

"Idy..." Ortho warns. "Your heart rate is-"

"I know! I know, I just- I can't believe it- you, of all people,"

He sits again, shaking. It takes you a moment to catch up.

"I... I wasn't lying," you mumble. "I've been trying to get a decent internet connection since we got back, but..."

"This is the guy?" Grim mumbles to you. He is ignored.

Idia feels lightheaded. This isn't real. This isn't happening. This is some weird dream.

He can't seem to stop grinning, anyway.

"Will you go out with me?!" he asks, without thinking at all. But not even the sinking feeling in his stomach is enough to ground him.

You stare back, your own eyes wide.

And then, in your familiar voice, in your familiar easing presence: "I'd like that,"

[yaniluvs]

and i'll still be right next to you, my dear 日 ── your boyfriend comes to your rescue, after uni, when your pms turns you into a gremlin..?

𓍯 bf!seungmin ʚଓ fem!reader ：（ 𝒾 ） 1.6k ── ༯ DRABBLE, domestic fluff, humour, flirting, comfort, mentioned pms, kisses, uni au, pure love, dying jokes. req. by ml ! ⸝⸝𓂃 LiBRARY. 𖦹ࡇ𖦹

yani's note ˖ ˙ ᰋ this was an absolute TREAT to write omg. i love love love love seungmin sm i'll explode >< thank you mama @cosmicalily for the request, i really hope it comforts you, at least in the slightest !! please take care of yourself and continue get pampered by your people ;) ! comments, requests, asks, likes, follows and reblogs are always appreciated ! comment/ask if you want to be added to my mastertag ! oh god that was a lot of exclamation marks happy reading <3

it starts with a dull ache in your lower abdomen, the kind that makes sitting through lectures feel like an olympic sport. your mood swings follow shortly after, along with an unshakable craving for chocolate. by the time you make it back to your shared apartment with your boyfriend, you're ready to flop onto the couch and disappear into a blanket cocoon.

your boyfriend in question, raises an eyebrow when he sees you shuffle through the door like a defeated sims character. "rough day?" he deadpans, his voice laced with sarcasm.

you groan in response, dropping your miffy tote that he had gotten for you merely two weeks earlier; kicking off your shoes with a dramatic flair. "i'm dying," you announce, flopping onto the couch face-first. "just let me perish here in peace."

he snorts, closing his laptop and setting it aside. "what's the cause of death this time? bad grade? forgot to take your charger? or is it the apocalypse of your own making?"

you flip over and glare at him, your energy too drained for a proper retort. "you’re walking a very thin line, kim seungmin. keyword, very."

that gets his attention. his teasing expression softens, and he stands up, walking over to you. "ah," he says simply, sitting down on the edge of the couch. "that explains why you’ve been texting me in all caps about chocolate and why you cursed out a squirrel this morning."

"i still stand by that," you reply, crossing your arms. "that squirrel was judging me."

seungmin rolls his eyes but can’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. he nudges you gently. "move over."

you grumble but comply, scooting over so he can sit beside you. he throws a knitted blanket that was earlier draped on the side of the couch, over both of you and settles in, his arm casually slung over the back of the couch.

"what do you need? heating pad? snacks? my undivided attention to watch you be dramatic?"

"another retort and you're gonna be-"

"begging for mercy? your highness, i am so deeply sorry to have offended you in this state of-"

"you're insufferable."

"and yet, here i am, ready to be your personal butler," he smirks, leaning back like he’s got all the time in the world. "...your highness." he adds.

"tell me what you want, and i'll think about it."

"actually, on second thought, don't. stay here, i'll be back in the speed of sound."

"it's said as the speed of light."

"too bad i'm not a science major. now you," he leaned in to press a soft kiss on the temple of your head, before patting the top and standing up, draping the blanket over you once more. "..stay here, with all your miffy plushies, and watch some tv. i'll be quick, okay?"

ten minutes.

it had been only ten minutes since he had gone, and then that was when you heard the familiar rattling of keys from the doorstep.

he stepped inside, balancing two loaded grocery bags of goodies and what not. his eyes flicked over you with a keen, knowing look. your cheeks were puffed, a tell-tale sign of bloating, and the slightly pinched expression on your face made his heart tug.

"i told you to stay seated."

"i had to change, mister." you shrugged.

"so that's the excuse for wearing my hoodie? again?" he remarked, raising an eyebrow as he placed the bags on the table. "did i leave anything behind that you haven't stolen?"

you got up from the couch with a dramatic groan. "i don’t steal, i borrow."

"you mean like how pirates 'borrow' treasure?" he said, shrugging off his jacket. “how’s your mood? should i brace for impact or am i safe for now?"

you shot him a glare, but it lacked heat. "hey!"

"sorry, sorry," his lips twitched, but instead of firing back, he reached for your waist, his cold fingers brushing against your arms. his touch was both gentle and grounding. "is it getting worse?"

the softness in his voice melted your defenses immediately. you sighed, leaning your head against his shoulder as he held you tightly in his arms. "i hate this. i feel gross and tired and…" you trailed off with a wave of your free hand.

he squeezed your hand. "and?"

"hungry," you whispered.

he smirked, his teasing demeanor slipping back into place. "lucky for you, i come bearing gifts." he reached into the bag, pulling out your favorites—chocolate, a lot of chips, and the sacred comfort food: ramen.

he waved them in front of your face. "all for the lady, thanks to her knight in shining armor."

you made grabby hands immediately, eyes lightening up. "gimme."

"what do we say?"

"seungmin, i will literally punch you and have zero remorse, right now."

"eh.. i doubt that. but i'd love to see you try, darling."

. . .

just as you were about to go for his hair, he laughed, surrendering the snacks. "alright, alright. eat your feelings, grumpy little gremlin."

"what did you just call me?" you cringed.

"a gremlin?"

"you've been spending way too much time with felix."

"what's with the face?" he asks, sitting back down. "i’m not a monster, you know. i have my moments."

"rare moments," you quip, taking a bite of the chocolate.

he rolls his eyes again but doesn't argue. instead, he adjusts the heating pad and plugs it in, gently placing it against your lower abdomen. the warmth is instant, and you let out a content sigh.

"better?" he asks, his tone softer now.

"better," you admit, giving him a small smile.

the two of you settle into a comfortable silence, the kind that only comes with years of friendship and understanding. seungmin picks up the tv remote, scrolling through options before landing on a rom-com you secretly adore but would never admit to liking.

"really?" you tease. "i didn’t peg you for a rom-com guy."

he shrugs, his expression carefully neutral. "i’m not. but you are. and you’re unbearable when you’re bored, so consider this a self-preservation tactic."

your heart does a little flip at his words, even if he disguises them in sarcasm. you lean against him, your head resting on his shoulder. he stiffens for a second but quickly relaxes, letting you get comfortable.

"you’re not so bad," you murmur, your voice barely audible over the movie’s opening scene.

he glances at you, his features softening in the dim light of the screen. "don’t get used to it," he says, though there’s no real bite in his words.

the rest of the evening passes in a haze of warmth and quiet companionship. at some point, seungmin shifts, pulling you closer so you’re practically curled up against him. his arm drapes around your shoulders, his thumb absentmindedly tracing circles on your abdomen, slightly massaging.

you sat in comfortable silence, with the distant hum of the tv, for a few moments as you tore into a bag of tortilla chips, the faint outline of the heatpad that he had prepared resting on your abdomen, visible. seungmin watched you with a fondness he rarely let anyone else see.

he wasn’t one to be overly affectionate in public, always opting for sarcasm and well-placed retorts instead of grand gestures. but here, with you curled up against him, he let his softer side surface.

"do you need some tea or water?" he asked after a while, brushing a few stray strands of your hair away from your face.

you nodded, too busy munching to reply.

he stood with a sigh, muttering under his breath. "you’re such a queen, making me do all the work."

"you fucker- you literally just admitted to being a 'knight in shining armor' and 'butler' like less than half an hour ago!" you called after him.

"okay, easy with the language, sailor," he raised his hands in defence, 'i take it, it's still terrible?" he frowned, looking into your eyes.

"not as bad as earlier though, thanks to you." you grin.

"...and the mood switches.. you're scary."

. . .

by the time he returned with two cups of freshly brewed chamomile tea, you had sunk deeper into the beige couch, looking more like a cozy lump than a person. he handed it to you and sat back down, pulling your feet into his lap.

"thank you," you murmured, being handed the floral teacup in your hand.

he nodded, rubbing small circles, giving slight pressure at certain points into your calves, trying to ease your pain. "don’t mention it."

a comfortable lull settled over you two again. you closed your eyes, letting the pain and discomfort ebb away under his gentle touch.

"you know," he said suddenly, "if you just stopped having a uterus, this wouldn’t be a problem."

"oh, brilliant. now why didn’t i think of that?" you rolled your eyes. "but now that i think of it, it might give rise to someone else's problems, not affecting me though." you spoke with an innocent grin on your face.

he stared at you, unable to understand for a hot second. until it came to him- and you could swear you saw his ears shading crimson.

"wow, you're so thoughtful." he murmurs, catching your hand before you could hit him again and holding it tight. "you’re so violent."

"you’re so annoying."

"and yet, here we are," he quipped, threading his fingers through yours.

you squeezed his hand. "here we are."

for a moment, neither of you spoke. the late afternoon light streamed through the windows, casting a golden glow over your intertwined hands.

seungmin looked down at you, the usual sarcastic smirk replaced with something softer, quieter. "i know it sucks," he murmured. "but you’re doing great. you’re strong. and i’ll be here… even if you eat all my hoodies and make me buy half the store every month."

your lips quirked. "you’re the best, you know that?"

"as if it wasn't obvious," he deadpanned. "but it’s nice to hear it."

mastertag ୨୧ @cosmicalily @hyunjiiza @modesttiger

[caterkinnie]

I saw that your askbox was open. If i may, can you write a continuation of this ( Reader who cannot lie is put in an awkward situation...) with the rest of the dormleaders. It's so cute kasi eh. Also, can you include Rook, Sebek, and Jade in the place of Idia, Azul and Vil. Thx

Reader who cannot lie is put in an awkward situation...

❥ ⌗ Characters: Rook Hunt, Sebek Zigvolt, Jade Leech.

❥ ⌗ Tags: not really proofread. rook being silly. sebek being sebek. jade being cute<3

❥ ⌗ a/n: hiiiiii i started this blog when i was 15 and now im 18. crazy right???? happy new year!!!! sorry if its a bit awkward. its been a LONG time since I wrote for these characters.... tysm for your request!

Oh, it's Rook's fault this happened and he knows it.

You two were just having fun, he invited you to the forest just to walk around and relax. It was the sort of activity he'd love doing with you.

The two of you were completely alone, Rook loved to show you around his favorite hidden places, places that you imagine no one has seen before other than him….

And he was happy to do so, it was something you've done millions of times with him.

imagined he was hiding something, as his smile was a little bit too wide, his eyes were a little bit too mischievous. You knew when he was planning to mess up with you.

You were not expecting him to ask if you had a crush on anyone though.

“Eh?! What… Yes you do know him but…. ahh!! Yes, he's blond, why do you ask????”

He was giggling as he asked question after question…

What's his eye color? In what club is he? Is he from Pomefiore? How good is he as a hunter.

“Ah~ Mon cheri, don't get mad at me. I fear I know how you must be talking about… although, I imagine the feelings are reciprocated… Oh, such a beautiful expression you have!”

He has way too much fun with your quirk.

In this case, it wasn't directly to Sebek…

Lilia Vanrouge was extremely curious about you, as Sebek had never shown any interest in friendships with anyone. Let alone spending the amount of time he does with you, and even hesitating when he has to choose between aiding Malleus and having fun with you!

No one else had that effect on him, and you deep down knew it but… as a human, would he ever like you back? Would he feel ashamed to love you? Those questions plagued your mind, and stopped you from pursuing the kind hearted fae…

“What? If I like him…? ah… well… he's really sweet and- and…. Ah!!! Maybe a tiny bit but don't tell him!”

“AH?!?!?!”

And then you heard a loud scream of confusion from outside the door.

One you unfortunately recognized instantly.

Lilia chuckled as the door was bursted open, and Sebek was in front of you, his face was red… he wanted to say something… but something weird happened… He was at a loss for words!

You tried to explain yourself but…

“FOOLISH HUMAN! It's- it's bad manners to speak of someone behind their back! If….. If you wished to… If you wished to talk about those feelings, you must have told me directly, IF NOT THEN HOW COULD I PROPERLY COURT YOU?”

You were trying to impress Jade, but maybe you should have gone with a letter or some kind of book about fungi…

You've never cooked octopus before, and the cooking book wasn't helping at all either!

It seemed easy in theory… but you've tried it a million times and it still is not something you'd want to give to him!

He has really exquisite tastes! And if you mess it up maybe you'll mess this chance with him…

Or maybe you're overthinking.

Right as you were tried to finish the dish (which you were unsatisfied with the presentation and overall taste) you heard a chuckle from behind you.

“My, my… Are my eyes seeing this correctly? Who are you making this for?”

“...Of course it's for you.” No, dang it!

“And why, may I ask? what's the occasion?” His voice had a confused pitch, but his smirk gave it away. He was extremely amused by your attempts.

“....I though… maybe I could gift you this and then ask you out on a date….” No!! Why did you say that????

“...Fuhuhu… You're overcomplicating it… Maybe next time we can try to do it together? I can give you a few tips as well…. since it seems you've been trying for a few days, that is…”

He knew all of this time?!

Wait, is that a date?!

Reblogs are appreciated!

[xazse]

Female!Reader × HybridPuppy!Yuji

The reader produces breast milk , which she expresses and donates to a shelter for small hybrids. HybridPuppy!Yuji often hugs her and presses himself against her chest to inhale the smell of milk, which makes his mouth water and his cock hard. In the end, he can't resist and begs his mistress to let him suck her milk. Or he sneaks into her bedroom at night and drinks her milk while she sleeps.

Instead of Yuji, you can have Satoru if you want to change the character

Notes: I love this so fucking much, I made a few changes I hope you don’t mind and I’m using Satoru btw because I don’t write for minors.

Pairings: PuppyHybrid!Satoru x LactatingFem!Reader

Warnings: I’m sorry but I’m warning ya now this is some nasty shit but a good nasty if ur into this! + Smut + Lactation + hybrids + reader has big boobs + possessive!Satoru + perv!Satoru + porn with plot + notproofread + bathroom sex + I think I spent too much time on plot and not enough porn sorry!

You love visiting the shelter near your house, it’s just a ten minute walk of you enjoying the scenery and speaking to the townspeople, they always greet you with the warmest smiles because they know you, they’ve known you for years.

In fact everyone here knows you: a widowed mother and wife, a mother whose children have been moved on to pursue their own hopes and dreams so in your little warm house it’s just you. You’ve noticed for a while a void in your heart, the loneliness does get to you some days but not today.

Recently a facility had been built, a hybrid facility, at first you hadn’t ever thought those existed because under new law hybrids are allowed to coexist around regular humans, they are to be treated as such it was a long time coming, it hurt your heart to see them being treated as outcasts.

You learned that this facility was for the young, abandoned and on occasion they’d take in adults who still couldn’t find their place.

And in that place you finally found your calling. for some odd reason you and your doctor couldn’t place you were still weirdly lactating, it was exhausting having sore breasts and an endless supply of milk you’d have to pour down the drain: too embarrassed to donate it in fear of being found out in the small town of people.

You awake up with full boobs that needed to be emptied or you’d spend the entire day in pain, pumping the milk was the only way, you’d only have to do it once a day but the sheer amount could keep a baby feed for the entire day.

You’d been talking to one of the workers of the facility and they’d been explaining how the young ones weren’t exactly taking well to the supplied formula milk, “they’d cry constantly” he exclaimed and it broke your heart into pieces the thought of them not eating hurts you, for the very first time you confided in the worker and he didn’t look disgusted not one bit in fact he seemed overjoyed.

“Disgusted? Why would I feel that way? This means the little ones will eat and not throw fits.” When he finishes that sentence a long drawn out sigh leaves his lips. You can’t help the giggle that falls from your lips.

Suguru you learn comes by your house to pick up the supplements and does he have some comments, he had waited a week to see how much you would produce.

“All this?!” You stand in your doorway shyly nodding in his presence, he’s actually appalled you weren’t lying when you said you have a good bit, he shakes the box in his hands and listens carefully, it’s hard for you to watch him do that right in front of you and not get a little flustered.

He thanks you graciously and makes his way back to the facility, you really hope they like it, it was one hell of a week for you. Though the feeling you did something good swarms you with warmth.

After that it was found that they absolutely loved your milk, and you had plenty to give, it was so cute the way Suguru described their reactions and how priceless it was. One little one had whined for more: Yuji was a special character he required a bit more milk since he was malnourished, Suguru couldn’t stop describing how he would not let go of the bottle, his grip was not going to let up easily, he looked so genuinely happy describing his work and how much he enjoys this field.

You break out of your thoughts and make your way to the facility, it’s downright gorgeous garden greeting you before the glass doors, smelling so good greets you just as warmly, you open the door and offer your greetings to the staff, Suguru had told you on the phone that the little ones had been particularly needy and needed some attention, attention they couldn’t provide right at the moment so they called you: they always do.

They’re way more comfortable with you, always asking when you’re coming back and on occasion they’ll beg you to stay a little longer with them, cute little faces decorated in tears to trick you.

Right now you’re relaxing on the mat in the playroom whilst they all run around chasing after one another, Nobara: a little lion hybrid is trying her hardest to doze off on your lap, she can’t with all the loud children playing like it’s their last day ever. You slowly and softly rub her short locs to lull her, it’s working until Yuji: a tiger hybrid ever the energetic thing is crawling to come bother her.

With Megumi: a wolf hybrid, and basically his other half following right behind him quietly.

Nobara seems unphased by the tiger trying to bother her, simply shooing him away so she can get her beauty sleep, that sentence makes you giggle, you continue to watch the threes antics without saying a word, a show with no production is how they act together.

Yuji sees your hands rubbing Nobaras ears and he’s immediately making his way towards your soft fingers, basically forcing you to rub his orange striped ears, this doesn’t make Nobara happy and she tries to shove him away; whining for your attention again.

You know how they get if you aren’t showing them equal parts attention so now both of your hands are preoccupied, Megumi doesn’t seem to mind, simply sitting and watching on.

You hear his voice before you even see him, he’s definitely running through the halls disrupting the staff, he’s yelling your name so loud that you know its Satoru and how eager he is, you know how eager puppy hybrids can be.

When he pops his head into the playroom the brightest smile you think you’ve ever seen, he quickly makes his way over to you ignoring the little growls the babies give him, he’s pushing them aside against your protest and laying in your lap. The grip he has around your waist allows for him to fully envelope himself in your breasts.

“Missed you’s much” he playfully whines.

“You seen me yesterday Toru.”

Satoru lets out a satisfied sigh in the warmth of your boobs, he’s become obsessed with you, and it’s bad he’s had to he reprimanded by Suguru and the other staff multiple times for his possessiveness it’s not his fault though! He can’t control how he feels about you not after that day.

It was when he was feeding Megumi, sometimes as a way to bond Suguru will have Satoru bottle feed them, though he absolutely dreads it, he has to put up with it, all the other adult hybrids are far too hard headed.

He was curious one day, about how the milk had tasted, he found out through Suguru that the formula had been changed to breast milk, it was a slip of the tongue but he himself had also noticed how they whined for more.

He unscrewed the top to the bottle, the little calm Megumi was already drifting off so he wasn’t a problem.

He took a sip, and quickly pulled away: fully expecting it to be the worst thing he’s ever tried: it’s baby food not food meant for him but that feeling on his tongue never came in fact it was actually quite good.

Another sip and another after that; he scarfed the remains of the bottle down with a flushed face, it tassted like- well he couldn’t describe it but he knew he fucking loved it. He found himself sneaking into where it was kept and taking some for himself, it was almost an everyday thing, he knew when Suguru was questioning and bothering him he had to stop but he couldn’t, until he met the source of where the milk was coming from.

He snuggles his face deeper, ignoring and zoning out the loud noises around him, he can smell the milk on your breasts, you recently pumped? Probably this morning to be exact as and all he can think about is how you sat there for hours getting rid of the awful feeling in your sore breasts.

You feel something hard against your leg, you know how Satoru feels about you but this is too much. You’ve already had to tell him in the past that he’s much too young for you and would be better off finding someone who can fit his needs, he insists that he only wants you and doesn’t care about the age difference.

You have yet to bring up these feelings to Suguru though, you can’t bring yourself to say because what if Satoru won’t trust you anymore, it was hard building trust with the man due to his past experiences.

He’s only getting more excited by the minute, his tail moving in slow languid motions.

The way he’s looking up at you is filled with nothing but love and lust, you know that look too well.

You aren’t sure why you’re in a bathroom stall with Toru whilst he feels you up, caressing your boobs, every attempt to tell him to stop dies on your tongue when he rubs a sore area, your breath hitching in your throat when he grinds his hard cock on you.

Such a needy puppy he is, whining under his breath words that you can’t quite decipher especially with how heated you’re getting, your mind getting foggier by the minute as you let Satoru get his fill of you.

He rips apart your blouse and carelessly throws it on the floor, along with your bra next. Your nipples are exposed to the cold air of the facility and Satoru is reveling in it. He paws at your heavy boobs with rough calloused hands that are uncoordinated, squeezing the fat in his hand until he sees what he wants.

The droplets of your milk finally coming to fruition, he licks one nipple and you think you can see him visibly shake with excitement, he filts that nipple in his mouth and suckles, after a good minute he ceases his constant unconscious movements and readily focuses on the sweet milk cascading down his throat.

A moan breaks free from your trembling lips, this feels nothing like the machine you have at home, this feels so fucking good it alone has your cunt throbbing in your panties, the swirling of his tongue and just how content he looks is driving you mad.

You slip into that space that you know is bad for you, your voice is for some reason egging Satoru on, calling him all sorts of names that entice him to suck harder. Your hands don’t listen to you either because you’re rubbing the front of his pants in soft motions.

His whimpers don’t go unnoticed, nor does his swishing tail, such a good boy you tell him, losing all sense of rational he drags you with him to sit on the toilet, you don’t expect the amount of strength he has for being so lanky but he manages it.

He goes right back to sucking on your fat breasts that still replenish his appetite.

You let Satoru strip you of your bottoms and your panties, you let him slip his cock inside of you when you know you shouldn’t, he isn’t big but he fucks constant, always hitting that good spot inside of you based off your reactions.

He looks disheveled and messy, his face red and his mouth dripping with drool and remnants of your milk.

You let him bend you any which way he sees fit in that stall, an overexcited hybrid means it’s going to take a while to exhaust them, though you feel tired after having an orgasm you’ve never experienced he isn’t done, he’s cum multiple times, filled your cunt with his leaky cum he still isn’t done yet.

When he’s got you in his lap leaning on him for support he’s nonstop talking about what you and him will do from here, he talks about how he wants a family of his own and how you’ll be such a perfect mommy to his little ones.

[igotanidea]

World's worst wingman: Jason Todd x reader (ft. Dick Grayson)

story borrowed from @gay-dorito-dust, thank you :)

Summary: Dick being Jason's wingman.

***

„Come on, just go do it!”

„No.”

„Why not?”

„Because.”

„Why are you being stubborn? I saw you eyeing her whole night! Seriously, if you keep bringing that face expression on, you will turn into an anime character and-“

Jason groaned and run fingers through his already messed up hair.

For the record – he had no idea that the object of his interest in the form of Y/N would be at this particular club tonight.

Well – maybe a faint idea. Just a vague concept of her whereabouts.

It wasn’t like he stalked her a little, getting to know her favorite places to hang out, her work and her home and the way she was using to commute to ensure its safety.

Definitely not.

But even if he did – there was no regrets in his actions with regards to that.

What he did regret though – was bringing Dick with him to act like some sort of wingman. Stupid. Idiotic. Completely reckless behavior. HE should have known better than that.

Instead of having a chance to talk to her, he was stuck by the table, trying to melt into the plush backrest of the couch behind his back, that happened to be the same color his face was turning into.

Forced to listen to his brother constant babbling how he can’t be such a coward and shy and antisocial and that she seemed to be a nice girl and why won’t Jason just get his ass up and –

“Shut up.” Jason muttered, edging the thin line between behaving and getting a temper tantrum.

“Ohhhh! Is my little Jaybrid getting flustered?” Dick teased, grinning like a madman, deriving almost sadistic pleasure from tormenting his brother.

“I’m getting so many regrets about telling you shit about her.”

“Oh, come on, don’t say it! That’s so not fair! I’m only here to help you, cause with the way you’re acting now I don’t see much chance to succeed in-”

“I’m going to get a drink!” Jason stood up from the table so abruptly that only by miracle it didn’t trip over.

“Oh yeah! That’s the spirit! And while you’re at it, can you bring me one more pina colada?”

It was all just a big fat joke to Dick.

***

“Hey, can I have a beer and a pina colada?” damn the second part of his sentence barely left his throat.

“that;s an unusual mix, istn;t it?” she chuckled grabbing a glass and starting to prepare the drink with learned precision.

“Yeah, it’s not for me – “ Jason stuttered, despite himself “It’s for-“

“Your date?”

“huh?”

“That guy over there?” Y/N pointed towards the Dick, waving at her crazily across the club

“WHAT? He’s not my date! He- he’s my –“ it took a lot of effort from Jason to not address Dick as his prey, but somehow, gulping heavily and clenching fists he managed to calm down. Ish. “-brother. He’s my effing brother.”

“Oh, such a  relief!”

“Relief? Why?”

“Cause it means he’s not gay, huh?”

“Oh…”

Of course she was asking about Dick. How could a girl like her ever pay attention to a guy like Jason?

“Relax, I’m kidding. It’s only because of the drink. I mean – what kind of a man orders pina colada unless he’s playing on the other side of the field or has a particularly nasty sense of humor, right?”

“Are you always this observant?”

“You know, some people think I’m just  a bartender, but the truth? I’m also a watcher and a listener. You wouldn’t believe the amount of drunk girls crying their broken heart out on this particular counter.”

“Hah!” he chuckled. For some crazy reason her attitude was making him feel at ease. Like he could actually maybe stand a chance with her?

“So, here’s your pina colada and your beer. Enjoy.”

The second she handed him the beverages he knew the moment was over. He was a customer at the bar and she was working here. They were not friends and definitely not more.

“Yeah, um – thanks …” he muttered, retrieving back into himself, grabbing the mugg and a tall glass, heading back to Dick with sense of defeat inside him.

***

“Are you crazy?!”

“Stop yelling!”

“But are you crazy?!” with the way Dick was tugging at Jason’s shirt it was truly a miracle that the younger brother did not end up drenched in and reeking of beer. “You had a chance! It was the perfect opportunity and you’re back here?! Please tell me you at least asked her out!”

“I –“

“Holy shit, Jason, you totally blew it.” Dick rubbed his forehead “Tell me you told her, you liked her!”

“Well-“

“Ok, fine, fine. Let’s lower the bar and the expectations there then. Tell me you told her she’s pretty.”

“I’m not telling the cliché that any drunk man would!”

“You’re hopeless. You are totally hopeless. My god, did I teach you nothing during all those years?!”

“Shut up, Dick!”

Too bad it was too late and Dick was already on a highway to making a scene and the biggest commotion this little suburban club has ever seen.

“Dick!” Jason hissed, feeling all eyes on them. All eyes except Y/N’s who was apparently ending her shift, cleaning some of the stuff from the counter and filling in her colleague.

“Quick! Fast!” Dick started pushing Jason towards her direction.

Mistake.

A little tip: if you ever try to push a 6 ft and 200 pounds man in any direction at all, make sure to make sure he expects it.

Otherwise, the mass of muscles may just subdue to the undeniable power of physics. Especially the gravity and the rules of dynamics. You know, the whole a body set in motion moves in a uniform motion and all shebang.

In Jason’s case it resulted in him losing the balance, falling backwards and stumbling upon unexpecting Y/N, crashing into her as they both ended on the floor with a very disturbing crack coming from somewhere.

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit! Y/N? Are you okay? I am so sorry, I am so terribly sorry, how many fingers do you see-“

 “Ouch….” She groaned, reaching for the hand he was reaching towards her, letting him help her up. “Five?”

“Three. Close enough.”

“So you’re a sloth now?”

“huh?”

“Well, I said five fingers, you said three. Sloths have three fingers and – mh. Dry joke, sorry.”

“You must have hit your head pretty bad, huh?” he could swear to god, he had no idea where that joke came from, just slipped his mouth, but to his relief – she laughed. Not in a mean way, not at all. It was a genuine, happy laugh. He made her laugh.

“Yeah, maybe. I swear I am usually in a better shape.”

“I’d love to see that.” He muttered, and in his head it was just a thought never spoken aloud, but when she tilted her head and gave him a funny look, Jason realized he actually did just that. Spoke up. Bared himself to rejection, teasing, hurt, pain, depression –

“Ok.”

“Ok?” his eyes grew wider.

“Yes. Ok. I can give you a sample. And also you owe me.”

“Um, yeah, yeah, ok, so – “ he scratched his head awkwardly.

“I like coffee. And I have a day off tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay then so – “ say something you idiot! Say something! “there’s this little café at the 23rd and-“

“See you at 8.” She smiled, grabbed her coat and with a wave of her hand disappeared leaving him stunned.

He had a date. Ish. A meeting. A meeting with a girl he liked.

He could jump up from the sheer joy of this unexpected turn out of events, if it wasn;t for the one little fact ….

“RICHARD GRAYSON!!!”

The yelling could wake up the dead and sensing the incoming sequence of events, Dick quickly started moving through the crowd towards the exit.

“I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!”

It seemed that after Red Hood was done with his job, Nightwing would be excluded from patrolling that night.

[aventurineswife]

Aventurine, Sunday and Ratio w/ a Memokeeper...? 👀

“Memory is the diary that we all carry about with us”

Tags: Ratio x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Memokeeper!Reader, Character Study, Existential Themes, Introspection, Emotional Growth, Intellectual Tension, Mysticism, Loss, Haunted Past, Unresolved Regret, Journey of Self-Discovery, Temporal Manipulation

Warnings: Existential Crisis, Trauma, Philosophical Discomfort, Emotional Weight Vulnerability in Characters, Mature Themes (regret, guilt, and self-worth).

Ratio, with his signature plaster sculpture concealing his face and his wavy hair cascading just past his shoulders, was a figure both revered and feared within the Intelligentsia Guild. His sharp eyes, the color of fading twilight with a ring of yellow at their core, saw everything and everyone, evaluating, analyzing, dissecting.

It was here that you, a Memokeeper from the Garden of Recollection, first encountered him.

You had come to this world, as you did with every other, to preserve memories, to seek out moments that spoke of the lives lived, the forgotten faces, and the stars that fell into oblivion. In the endless cycle of existence, you had learned that the only thing that truly mattered was memory. To think, to feel, to exist—those were not just ephemeral things, but imprints on the fabric of reality itself.

But when you met Ratio, it was as if all the weight of time had been condensed into a single moment. He, too, had an unyielding belief in the importance of knowledge, in the idea that ideas, too, were immortal. He understood the power of remembrance, but to him, it was intellect, not memory, that was the truest form of immortality. A fascinating paradox.

"You're a Memokeeper, aren't you?" His voice was smooth, like velvet over steel, his eyes locking onto yours, seeing straight through to your very essence.

You nodded, concealing your true form beneath your disguise, as was customary for those like you. In this world, you were just another scholar, another wanderer with a collection of knowledge to trade. But unlike the others, your knowledge wasn’t of facts or figures. It was of memories, of moments suspended in time, of people long gone and forgotten.

"You believe that memory is everything, don’t you?" Ratio's gaze never wavered, as if he was testing you. "You think that by preserving memory, you preserve the soul of a person. But memories are subjective, fleeting. They are not absolute. Ideas, facts, theories—these are what endure. These are what define existence."

His words were confident, dismissive even. But you knew there was more behind them, a deeper yearning to understand what lay beyond the limits of mortal comprehension. You could see it in the way his hands gestured as he spoke, the sharpness of his thoughts revealing a man who, despite all his brilliance, was searching for something more.

"You misunderstand," you said, your voice calm but full of a quiet intensity. "Memories are the only things that cannot be erased, not by time, not by entropy. They are the proof of existence. Without them, what are we but ghosts, vanishing without a trace?"

Ratio's eyes glinted with something unreadable—was it interest? Curiosity? You couldn’t tell, but it was enough to pique his attention. "And how do you preserve them? What makes your memories so… important?"

You smiled faintly, an ethereal expression. "I don’t just remember, Dr. Ratio. I preserve. Through the Garden of Recollection, I collect and store memories, not just from the world I come from, but from all worlds. I can live through them, feel what they felt, see what they saw. I can carry the memories of thousands, and in doing so, they live on."

For a moment, there was silence. Ratio’s gaze remained fixed on you, his expression unreadable. "And what of your own memories?" he asked, his voice softer now, though still brimming with intensity. "Do you ever remember yourself? Or are you too lost in the memories of others to even recall your own?"

It was a question that struck deeper than you had anticipated. You, who had shed your mortal form long ago to live as a memetic entity, could not remember the life you once lived. The body you had was but a vessel, an illusion of the past. Yet you held the memories of countless lives, each one a thread in the grand tapestry of existence.

"I remember," you said quietly, your voice distant, as if recalling a long-forgotten dream. "But only fragments. I carry the memories of all those I've encountered, of all the lives I've touched. And in that, I live."

Ratio stared at you, his expression unreadable, but there was a flicker in his eyes—a momentary crack in his armor. "Fascinating," he murmured, as if the concept of your existence challenged everything he had ever known. "You are a paradox, then. A being of memory, yet unable to fully grasp your own existence. How… tragic."

You tilted your head slightly. "Perhaps. But in some ways, it’s beautiful. Every life I encounter becomes a part of me, and in that, I become part of them. A perpetual exchange, a never-ending cycle of remembrance."

Ratio’s lips quirked upward slightly, a rare and almost imperceptible smile. "Perhaps," he echoed, his voice tinged with something akin to admiration. "You might be right, after all. Memory is the only true form of immortality. But don’t forget, my Memokeeper, that intellect and knowledge are what shape the universe. Without them, memory would be meaningless."

You met his gaze, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. "And without memory, even the greatest intellects would fade into obscurity, leaving nothing behind."

For a moment, you both stood there, two beings of immense knowledge and power, staring at one another in the midst of a universe that seemed both infinite and fleeting. In that fleeting moment, there was no need for words. You understood each other, in a way that few could.

As you turned to leave, your final words lingered in the air, like a soft melody, echoing across time itself.

"Remember me, Dr. Ratio. After all, that is the only way I can truly exist."

He watched you disappear into the endless flow of time, his mind racing with questions, with curiosity. The Memokeeper had left an impression, a memory etched into his mind. And though Ratio would continue his work, seeking to change the world through intellect and knowledge, something had shifted within him.

Perhaps, in the end, the preservation of memory and the pursuit of knowledge were not so different after all.

The Astral Express hummed with the faint rhythm of its journey through the stars, its steady pulse a stark contrast to the turbulent thoughts that swirled within Sunday’s mind. He stood by the window, watching the unending expanse of the cosmos pass by, his eyes reflecting distant stars. His thoughts were as fractured as ever—an unyielding dissonance between his ideals and the weight of his past. Yet, there was something different now, something new stirring in him, as if the winds of change were gently sweeping through his world.

You, the Memokeeper, stood just a few steps away from him, an enigmatic presence, yet somehow, your existence felt more real than anything else. Your presence was like an anchor in a sea of uncertainty, a testament to a truth he had not yet fully grasped.

To think is to exist.

He had never truly questioned his existence in this way before. For all his lofty ideals about dreams, suffering, and the balance between them, there was something about you—your quiet, eternal purpose—that made him reconsider his place in the universe.

You had explained, on occasion, the nature of your kind. A Memokeeper’s task was to collect memories, to preserve them as proof of existence in a world where everything, even stars, would eventually fade. Unlike most, who viewed reality and imagination as distinct, Memokeepers saw them as one. It was a perspective that intrigued Sunday deeply, yet he struggled to fully comprehend it. Perhaps because, in the end, he wasn’t sure what was real anymore.

"How do you hold on to something so... fleeting?" he asked softly, his voice carrying a weight that betrayed the many layers of his thoughts.

You turned toward him, your expression serene, but there was a flicker of something deeper in your eyes, an understanding of the burden he carried. "We don't hold on to it. We let it flow through us, and in doing so, we become it."

Sunday looked at you, his gaze lingering on the delicate curve of your cheek, the ethereal quality of your being, and how it seemed as though you were made of light itself. "Do you ever feel... trapped by your memories?" His voice faltered at the question, as though he were reaching for something he couldn’t quite touch.

For a moment, there was silence, save for the distant hum of the train and the occasional flicker of stars outside. You took a step closer, your fingers brushing lightly against the air as you spoke, your voice gentle and calm.

"Trapped?" you mused. "No. We are the keepers, not the prisoners. Memories are not chains. They are bridges."

His brow furrowed slightly. "But what if the memories are of things you can never change? Things that haunt you?" His words were quieter now, as if he were speaking more to himself than to you. The weight of his past—of the choices he had made, of the lives he had shaped, for better or worse—pressed down on him once more.

You studied him with a knowing gaze, as though seeing through the veil of his facade. "Hauntings are but echoes of what was, Sunday. The question is not whether the memories are painful, but whether we let them define us." You paused, letting your words settle. "What you choose to do with them—that is what matters."

Sunday’s eyes flickered as if a distant thought had just emerged, one that had been buried beneath layers of rationality and philosophy. He had spent so long trying to change the world, trying to create a place free of suffering, that he had neglected the simplest truth: he could not change the past. He could only move forward.

"But how?" he asked, his voice filled with quiet desperation. "How can I move forward, when the past keeps whispering in my ears?"

You smiled softly, a knowing, almost maternal expression on your face. "You are already moving forward, Sunday. Your journey on the Astral Express is proof of that. The question is not if you will move forward, but how you will choose to remember."

There it was again: remember. It was a word he had often associated with pain, with the weight of regret and guilt, but somehow, in your presence, it felt lighter. It felt like a possibility, a way to reclaim something precious without being bound to it.

For the first time in a long while, Sunday allowed himself to truly look at you. Not just as a fellow traveler aboard the Express, but as someone who embodied a truth he had yet to accept.

"I... I think I understand," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Memories are not the end of us. They can be... a part of something greater."

You nodded, your eyes fluttering slightly as you gazed at him with an expression of quiet encouragement. "Exactly. And sometimes, the greatest gift you can give to the past is to let it go, while still carrying it with you."

Sunday fell silent, his mind now processing your words, considering their implications. Perhaps this was the true path to redemption—not the erasure of pain, but the acceptance of it, and the ability to carry it without letting it define him.

As the train continued its journey through the stars, Sunday found himself standing a little taller. He wasn’t sure where this journey would take him, but for the first time in a long while, he felt like he might finally be on the right path.

In the labyrinthine corridors of the IPC, where deals and schemes wove through the very fabric of power, Aventurine stood as an enigma, a master of manipulation with a heart haunted by the ghosts of his past. His smile, enigmatic and ever-present, was a mask that concealed the fractured man beneath. The ‘Aventurine of Stratagems,’ a name he wore with pride, was a title earned through unrelenting gambles and sacrifices, yet it was the one thing that kept him from truly losing himself.

But on this particular day, something—or rather, someone—was pulling at the threads of his carefully constructed world. Someone who didn’t need to gamble to see through the veil.

You. The Memokeeper.

A fleeting figure, a whisper of another existence, you moved through worlds unrestrained by physical boundaries. Memokeepers were creatures of memories—preservers of the immortal, the eternal. You had no flesh, no true form. Only the shifting remnants of memories you carried with you, the fragments of countless lives you had touched and stolen.

When Aventurine first encountered you, he had been intrigued. Memokeepers were not common, and your mysterious nature had piqued his interest. But it was your ability to navigate through time and space, your unflinching grasp of memory as a permanent artifact, that truly captivated him.

"You never forget, do you?" Aventurine's voice was smooth, laced with his signature mix of challenge and curiosity as you stood across from him in a darkened room, a flicker of memory flashing in your eyes.

You tilted your head slightly, a soft, almost imperceptible smile gracing your lips. "For a moment, I thought you would say 'never forgive.'" You said it with an air of knowing, your voice gentle yet profound. "But no... you are too familiar with your own regrets to seek forgiveness."

Aventurine’s smile faltered for just a fraction of a second. The hint of vulnerability did not go unnoticed. The last surviving member of a lost clan, haunted by survivor's guilt—those wounds ran deep. His facade was usually flawless, but before you, it felt fragile, a thin layer barely holding back a flood of emotions he hadn’t let surface in years.

"You speak as though you understand me," he remarked, his voice regaining its usual confidence. "But I’ve played this game for too long to be an open book."

"Yet, here you are," you countered, stepping closer, the air thick with the power of your words. "A man who wagers lives as easily as others breathe. Do you think I can't see the stakes you're playing for? The past you can never escape?"

There was a moment of silence, one where Aventurine’s usual bravado seemed to crack slightly, revealing the ever-present tension in his posture, the subtle guarding of his left hand behind his back. He wasn't ready to expose his fragility, not yet.

"You play with the illusion of luck," you continued, your voice almost hypnotic. "But I know what you really seek. You gamble because you fear being forgotten, because you fear that if you stop playing, your existence will cease to matter."

Aventurine’s eyes narrowed, gleaming with a mixture of challenge and intrigue. He tilted his head slightly, as if contemplating your words, but his tone remained steady. "And what of you, Memokeeper? Are you truly immortal, or just a collector of lies?"

You didn’t flinch. "Memory is the only true immortality. Everything fades—worlds, stars, even gods. But memories... memories last longer than anything else. They are what make us real. What make us matter."

He chuckled softly, his lips curling into that all-too-familiar grin. "I suppose you would say that. After all, you're in the business of making things last forever."

Aventurine’s eyes lingered on you for a moment longer than he intended, and for a brief instant, he wondered what it would be like to have his memory preserved—not his reputation or his empire, but his very essence. Would someone like you, a Memokeeper, truly see him for who he was beneath the layers of strategy and artifice?

"I’ve seen countless memories," you said, your voice soft but heavy with meaning. "But there's something about you... You're not a mere gambler, not just someone who risks it all. There's something darker in you, a longing for connection, yet a fear of it."

He looked at you with raised eyebrows, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his lips. "You really think you can see all that from just a glance?"

"You show more than you think," you said, your gaze steady, your words unshaken. "And it's those little things—the way you hide your left hand, the pauses in your speech, the smile that never reaches your eyes—that tell me you are more than the games you play."

The silence stretched, an unspoken challenge between you. He couldn’t deny it. He had always thought of himself as untouchable, an orchestrator of every move. But you? You had no need for power or control. You simply existed, transcendent and free.

And yet, despite all that, Aventurine felt something strange stirring within him—a desire to be remembered, not just for his gambles, but for the man he truly was.

"Perhaps you're right," he finally said, his voice quieter, more contemplative. "Perhaps there is more to me than even I realize."

You smiled, a soft, knowing expression, and for the first time, Aventurine’s smile seemed a little less rehearsed, a little more genuine. The idea of someone, a Memokeeper no less, understanding the depths of his soul was an uncomfortable yet fascinating thought.

"I don’t need to gamble to know your worth, Aventurine," you said, your eyes twinkling with an almost imperceptible warmth. "But perhaps, just once, you might stop playing and let someone else remember you. For who you really are."

For the first time in a long while, Aventurine didn’t immediately respond with a quip or a strategy. He simply watched you, his mind turning, calculating the possibilities. What would it mean to be remembered? To be seen beyond the mask of the gambler, the strategist, the survivor?

In that moment, Aventurine felt the first stirrings of a gamble he had never before considered: the gamble of letting someone in.

Oh damn, this was long af... 🫣😨

Also I couldn't come up with a better title so yeah...🧍‍♀️

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Basics: Descriptive Verbs

A verb is a word that’s used to describe an action.

Descriptive verbs - (or strong verbs) are single-word actions that add to the tableau in the reader’s mind, giving it a boost of color and energy.

In many cases, an engaging, vivid verb is more concise and telling than a straightforward, overused one.

The man ran quickly toward the smoke, versus 

The man sprinted toward the smoke.

Weak verbs are simply common ones—words that describe the bare minimum of the action. Sometimes that’s the best way to keep your writing clean and direct, but it can also lead to a lack of color, or personality.

Types of Descriptive Verbs

The most powerful verbs evoke imagery and emotion in the action of the verb itself. A dog doesn’t just eat its food—it gobbles it. The glass doesn’t just break—it shatters.

Questions to consider when replacing your verbs:

Verbs of movement: Movement is especially ripe for descriptive words. Movements communicate how your characters feel, what they want, and how they present themselves to the world. Is your character merely walking along from point a to b? Or do they project more attitude with a saunter or perhaps swagger? Are they in a skipping mood? These movement verbs can also denote a sense of place, and urgency: Depending on the terrain, perhaps they plod through mud or stagger over jagged rocks. Suspicious characters might slink away into the darkness, or scamper just out of reach.

Verbs of stillness: In real life, stillness is never entirely devoid of movement, and is equally revealing. A nervous character doesn’t merely sit, they perch on the edge of their seat. A rude character might slouch in their chair. A character who has just received terrible news may slump on the couch.

Verbs for speech and expression: With dialogue attribution, you could write an entire novel using only “said,” without having to resort to more descriptive verbs like “shouted,” “cried,” or “whimpered.” The best answer is a balance: try to keep your language from jarring the reader out of the story, but considering your character’s intent when searching for the right descriptive verb in dialogue also allows you to quickly deliver more information to the reader. When is a laugh so cruel it becomes more of a snicker, or so unguarded it bursts forth as a guffaw? Muttering a word under the breath might be a sign of dissent, while a whimper is one of surrender. Create volume in your dialogue by introducing sound-oriented synonyms, like whispers or shouts.

When to Use Descriptive Verbs

The best verbs help you hone your prose to give you the effect you wish to achieve. Think about the tone do you want to set—what feelings or mood do you want to evoke? What kind of language will best deliver the story you want to tell?

Reading your work aloud is an excellent way to both hear the sonic effects of your prose and catch awkward repeated sounds or other unintended effects. Read through your writing and make a note of where things feel too slow, or stale.

Where are the moments where your prose stalls out? Highlight all the verbs you’ve used in that section and find stronger words to heighten the tension or enhance the mood of the scene.

Reasons to Use Descriptive Verbs in Writing

Using descriptive verbs is especially useful when considering pacing; active verbs help anchor your writing in the present tense, contributing to the exciting (or suspenseful, emotional, moody, exuberant) tone you might be going for.

Weak verbs, in general, are often supported by adverbs of manner (those descriptive words that end in “-ly”). Good descriptive verbs rid your sentences of the need for too many adverbs, and can also keep state-of-being verbs (like am, is, are, and was, which lead to passive voice) in check.

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[szariahwroteit]

Doll House: A Jude Bellingham + Original Character Erotic Series

18+ Minors DNI

Chapter 4

“Wrap your legs around me,” Jude said with a playful smirk, his hands firm yet gently gripping Tori’s hips. As he hoisted her effortlessly from the shimmering sea, he began to wade deeper into the cool, inviting water, the gentle waves lapping around them, creating a sense of exhilaration and intimacy.

“Please don't throw me in,” Tori smiled cautiously, her arms wrapping around Jude’s broad shoulders, tightening her hold on him. 

“I promise you I won’t,” Jude replied, his voice teasing yet reassuring. “But you have to trust me. Just enjoy the moment.”

Tori felt a rush of warmth spread through her as she looked into his eyes, the playful glint in them making her heart race. The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden hue over the water, and the world around them felt like a dream. 

“Okay, okay,” she said, her laughter bubbling up as she adjusted her grip. “Just don’t let go!”

With a confident grin, Jude began to move deeper into the water, the waves splashing around them. Tori could feel the coolness of the sea against her skin, contrasting with the warmth radiating from Jude’s body. The sensation sent shivers down her spine, and she couldn’t help but giggle as the water splashed playfully against her.

“See? Not so bad, right?” Jude said, glancing back at her, his expression a mix of mischief and delight.

“Not bad at all!” Tori replied, her laughter ringing out as she felt the thrill of the moment. “But I still don’t trust you completely!”

“Fair enough,” he chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “But I promise, I’m a good swimmer. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

As they waded further into the water, Tori felt a sense of freedom wash over her. The worries of the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in this beautiful moment. She could feel the rhythm of the waves, the gentle sway of Jude’s body beneath her, and the warmth of the setting sun on her skin.

“Okay, but if you do throw me in, I’m getting you back,” Tori warned, her eyes narrowing playfully.

Jude laughed, the sound deep and rich. ”I’d rather kiss you,”

He said, his voice dropping to a more serious tone, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by something deeper. 

Tori felt her breath hitch at his words, her heart racing as she searched his gaze. The atmosphere shifted slightly, the playful banter giving way to a moment charged with unspoken tension. 

Leaning into him, Tori pressed her lips against Jude's, her eyes fluttering shut as she surrendered to the warmth of the moment. She felt the weight of his hand, firm yet gentle, as it slid from her hip to grip the back of her neck, fingers threading softly through her hair. His touch anchored her in place, intensifying the electricity between them as she melted into the kiss. 

Jude let out a moan of approval as he parted Tori’s lips with his tongue, slipping it into her mouth as he sought to explore her.

Dubai thus far had been nothing short of perfect and with only two days until the new year the city had already begun to buzz. 

While Jude had been stopped by fans and swarmed by cameras on a few occasions, he did his best to keep that side of his life away from Tori and she was beyond thankful for it. 

The more time she spent around Jude the more she understood how sought-after an athlete he was. Just how bright his star shined. 

“Easily one of my favourite pastimes,” Jude smirked against Tori’s lips. 

“What is?” she asked curiously. 

“Kissing you,” he added with a playful grin, his eyes glinting mischievously. 

Tori felt her cheeks flush at his words, a mix of embarrassment and exhilaration flooding through her. "You know, you really are quite the charmer," she teased, pulling back slightly to look at him, their foreheads almost touching. 

“Is it working?” Jude smirked.  

“I’d say,” Tori confirmed. “You got me out of my panties in the first forty-eight, and you spilled your drink on me,” she smiled teasingly. 

Jude burst into laughter, the sound echoing around them and mingling with the soft lapping of the waves. “Well, I must be doing something right then,” he said, his voice dripping with playful confidence. Tori rolled her eyes playfully, a smile tugging at her lips as she tried to suppress another giggle.

Leaning into her, Jude's tongue slipped playfully against her lips, reigniting the spark that had momentarily dimmed. Tori found herself lost in the kiss once more, the world around them fading away as they embraced the intimacy of the moment. 

“Okay, okay,” Tori said, pulling back slightly, her breath warm against his skin. “Can we please get back to the shore?”

Jude chuckled, his arms tightening around her momentarily before he nodded. "Alright, but only if you promise me one thing," he said, his eyes glinting with a troublesome energy.

“What’s that?” Tori asked, tilting her head, curiosity dancing in her gaze.

“Promise me that if I do throw you in, you won't be mad at me,” he replied with a playful grin.

Tori couldn't help but laugh. “I can't make any promises,”

With that, Jude began to make his way back to the shore with Tori in his arms. 

When they were back on dry land, Jude placed Tori back onto her feet, pressing a kiss to her forehead before he darted off to use the bathroom. 

Tori felt giddy as she made her way back to her seat, a lazy smile spread across her face as she walked along the hot sand. 

As she made her way back to her seat, Tori smiled politely as she passed two of Jude’s teammates who sat sun bathing. Her polite gesture went unnoticed by the two men who were engrossed in conversation, however, when she walked past them and overheard their conversation, her stomach flipped.  

“She is beautiful, but she's only here for convenience,” one of Jude teammates said, making the other he sat beside laugh before agreeing with his statement. 

“Likewise,” the other man said, shaking his head. “Last night I had to send mine back to her room after sex, I didn't care to hear what she had to say.”

Tori felt a cold wave of disappointment wash over her as she heard the words echo in her mind. She had been enjoying this blissful escape with Jude, but hearing those comments made her question the depth of their connection. Was she really just a fleeting distraction for him, a convenience in a city where he was the star? The warmth that had enveloped her moments ago began to fade into a chill of uncertainty.

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to push the thoughts aside. Jude had been nothing but kind to her, and their time together had felt genuine. Yet, the seed of doubt had been planted, and she couldn’t ignore it. She needed to regroup, to find her footing again. 

As she approached the area where the other girls were sitting, she spotted a few familiar faces. They were laughing and chatting, the sun casting a warm glow on their sun-kissed skin. Tori hesitated for a moment before deciding to join them, hoping that their energy would lift her spirits.

“Hey, Tori! Come sit with us!” one of the girls called out, waving her over enthusiastically. Tori forced a smile and walked towards them, trying to shake off the lingering doubts.

“Hey, ladies!” Tori greeted, settling down on the soft sand beside them. “What are you all up to?”

“Just planning our New Year’s Eve outfits!” one of the girls said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Tori tried to match their enthusiasm, but her mind was still reeling from the comments she had overheard.

As the conversation continued, Tori listened intently, laughing at their jokes and sharing in their excitement. But a part of her couldn’t shake off the feeling of being on the outside, like she was in the same boat as the girls who were only here for a fleeting moment. She was starting to feel like maybe she was also just another notch on Jude’s bedpost.

“Do you know what you're wearing?” one girl asked, breaking Tori from her thoughts.

“If not, we could go shopping. Kylian promised me a shopping spree before I head back to Miami,” another chimed in, and they all laughed, the camaraderie palpable.

Tori had come to a startling realization: aside from one woman in their group, none of them shared a genuine bond with the men they were with. Their relationships seemed to be based solely on convenience and being rewarded for it, and this revelation left her feeling uneasy.

Politely excusing herself from the conversation, Tori strolled along the shoreline as attempted to clear her racing mind. 

Gentle waves washed over her feet as she absentmindedly played with the small gold rings that adorned her perfectly manicured fingers. 

Tori was lost in her thoughts, completely oblivious to Jude approaching her from behind. He gently rested his hand on the small of her back as he caught up with her. 

Tori jumped slightly at the unexpected touch, her thoughts snapping back to reality. She turned to face Jude, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Oh, hey,” she said, trying to shake off the fog of her earlier contemplation.

“Everything okay?” Jude asked, his brow furrowed in concern. He had been attentive to her since the moment they met, but despite this quality, Tori couldn't see past her insecure thoughts. 

“Yeah, just… thinking,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders as if to dismiss her unease. 

Jude nodded, but she could see the doubt in his eyes. “Can I walk with you?” he asked, smiling softly as he took her hand into his. 

Tori felt a warmth spread through her at the gesture, but it was quickly overshadowed by the weight of her thoughts. She appreciated Jude’s sincerity, yet the delicacy of their connection loomed large in her mind. 

“Sure,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, as they began to walk slowly along the water’s edge. The rhythmic sound of the waves crashing against the shore accompanied their silence, creating a soothing backdrop that contrasted with her inner turmoil.

“What’s on your mind?” Jude asked, glancing sideways at her, his eyes searching for a glimpse of the truth she was holding back. 

Tori hesitated, feeling the pull between wanting to share and the instinct to protect her vulnerabilities. “Just… something I overheard your teammate say, I guess,” she finally admitted.

Jude’s expression shifted; he turned to face her fully, concern etched on his features. “What was said?” 

“One of your teammates made a comment that the girl he brought to Dubai with him was purely for convenience…I hate to make something out of nothing, but it did get me thinking,” Tori said, her voice trailing off. She felt a knot tighten in her stomach as she tried to articulate her feelings. 

Jude frowned, processing her words. “I can see how that would bother you. It’s not really the kind of thing you want to hear, but I can assure you you're not just here for my convenience,” he explained, squeezing her hand for reassurance. 

Coming to a stop, he took hold of her other hand as he looked into her eyes, the soft breeze tousling her hair as his eyes traced over her. “I know I might not be the best at expressing it, but I genuinely enjoy every moment we spend together. You are here because I want you to be here—I want to get to know you. Not for convenience or sex.”

Jude felt a pang in his heart as he gazed at Tori's stunning face. She was undeniably beautiful, and it saddened him to imagine the struggles she must have faced in her past that led her to question her own worth.

In his experience, he'd given women the bare minimum, and that minimal effort had been enough for them to believe they were warranted a place in his life. Yet here Tori was, both beautiful and intriguing, questioning whether or not he truly valued her presence on this trip when she was who he wanted.

"In the most sincere way possible, I realize that being around someone like me might feel overwhelming, but I want you to understand how much I truly enjoy your presence and I want to continue learning about you," Jude explained. 

Beyond sex he enjoyed her company, she was smart, insightful and funny. He enjoyed sitting and learning about her as much as he did each time they were intimate.

Tori's heart raced as she processed Jude's words, his intense gaze locking her in place. The depth of his sincerity caught her off guard, momentarily eclipsing the swirling doubts in her mind. “You really mean that?” she asked her voice barely a whisper, vulnerability peeking through the cracks of her defences.

“Absolutely,” he replied, his tone steady and calm. “You’re not just a fling to me, Tori. I don’t want to just scratch an itch. I want to explore who you are. I want to share experiences with you, learn about your dreams, and understand you. It’s more than just physical.”

The sincerity in Jude’s eyes held her captive, and with each passing moment, it felt as if he was peeling back her layers. Tori felt the sun warming her skin, the gentle lapping of the waves caressing her feet, and as the cool sea breeze danced around them, a small part of her began to thaw. "I'm sorry for even bringing it to your attention," she confessed. “You’re supposed to be enjoying yourself.”

Jude shook his head gently, a reassuring smile playing on his lips. “No, don’t apologize. I’d rather you share what’s on your mind than keep it bottled up. I’m here to listen,” he said, his voice low and soft, yet laced with an intensity that made Tori's heart flutter.

He stepped closer, closing the distance between them just enough that she could feel his warmth radiating toward her. “Besides, I want to know everything that makes you, well, you,” Jude added, his eyes shining with a genuine exuberance that made her feel both cherished and exposed.

The weight of his gaze sent a shiver down her spine, and Tori felt a rush of emotions flood over her—relief, curiosity, a hint of something deeper that scared and excited her all at once.

“I’ve been trying to get to know you since I spilled my drink on you, all I need is for you to let me,” Jude continued, his voice a soft murmur as they stood inches apart. The sound of the waves grew distant, muffled by the quickening pulse in her ears. Tori felt time slow around them; the beautiful beach, the warm sun, the endless sky—all vanished as she focused solely on Jude.

Jude understood her apprehension, there were no clear bounds between them. Only a bond forged amid lust and desire. He understood how daunting the world of a celebrity could appear to someone on the outside looking in. 

As he stood before her, Jude could sense the weight of Tori's hesitation, the uncertainties swirling in her beautiful mind. He didn’t want to push her, but he felt a magnetic pull toward her—a profound connection that transcended mere physical attraction. “I know it can be intimidating, being close to someone who lives in the spotlight. But I want to make it clear that the reason I’m drawn to you is because of who you are, not because I think I can have my way with you.”

Tori swallowed hard, his words resonating with the hidden depths of her soul. She had spent much of her life hiding behind a veneer, afraid of being hurt or misunderstood.

She'd spent so much of her life putting her thoughts and feelings aside to accommodate others in relationships, her career, and even among her own flesh and blood, and she didn't know if she could continue in the same fashion with Jude.

“Jude, if you feel the same way as your teammates and that's what this is, I’d rather you tell me.” Jude's expression shifted to one of sincerity, a seriousness that made Tori's heart race. 

“Tori, I promise you, this isn’t that. I’m not them,” he said, his tone firm yet gentle. “What we have is only for us. I feel a connection with you that I want to explore,”

Tori felt her breath hitch again, her heart swelling with a mix of hope and fear. Could it be true? Was she really more than just a momentary distraction in his world?

“If anything changes, will you let me know?” Tori asked, her voice barely above a whisper, vulnerability spilling from her heart.

“Of course,” Jude replied, his expression softening. “I want to be open with you about everything. Although I doubt anything will make me stop liking you.”

Tori felt a wave of relief wash over her, mingling with the flutter of excitement in her chest. Jude’s words resonated deep within her, dispelling the doubts that had begun to creep in. “Thank you,” she said softly, her eyes searching for any hint of deceit, but all she found was sincerity and warmth.

“I just want you to enjoy your time here, Tori,” Jude continued, a smile breaking across his face. “We’ve got two days until the new year, and I want them to be memorable for both of us.”

“And I want that too,” Tori admitted, a genuine smile emerging on her lips. “I’ve had such an amazing time with you so far.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink, Tori and Jude made their way back to their hotel, the air still warm with the lingering heat of the day. The tension that had been clouding Tori's mind began to lift, replaced by a renewed sense of hope. Jude’s sincerity had grounded her, and she felt lighter in his presence.

After a quick shower and changing into something more suitable for an evening out, Tori stood in front of the mirror, her heart racing with anticipation. She chose a fitted black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, the hem flaring slightly as it grazed her thighs. She applied just a touch of makeup, enhancing her natural beauty, and as she finished, she caught her reflection—confident and excited.

Just as she finished, Jude knocked on the door. “You ready?” he called out, his voice warm and inviting.

“Almost!” Tori replied, quickly spritzing herself with a light floral perfume before heading to the door. When she opened it, Jude stood before her, dressed in a casual outfit that consisted of a crisp white t-shirt, jeans and sneakers, that accentuated his athletic build.

“You look beautiful,” he smiled as his hand found her hip. 

Tori felt her cheeks flush at his compliment, a shy smile spreading across her face. “Thank you! You look pretty good yourself,” she replied, her heart racing at the sight of him. The way he looked at her, with that intense gaze, made her feel like the only person in the room.

“Ready to make some memories?” Jude asked, his excitement infectious as he offered her his arm. Tori nodded, slipping her hand through the crook of his elbow, feeling a thrill of anticipation as they stepped out into the warm Dubai night.

Taking the elevator only one floor down, Jude led Tori towards his teammate's suite where a small gathering was already underway. The laughter and chatter grew louder as they approached, and Tori could feel a mix of nerves and excitement bubbling within her. She had already met some of Jude's teammates, but this would be her first time socializing with the larger group, and she wanted to make a good impression.

“Don’t worry,” Jude said, sensing her apprehension as he opened the door to the suite. “They’re all cool.” 

As they stepped inside, Tori was greeted by the lively atmosphere. The room was filled with music, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. Jude's teammates were gathered around a table, drinks in hand, animatedly discussing something. The air was thick with camaraderie, and Tori felt a spark of excitement.

As the party progressed, drinks flowed freely, and the laughter became louder. Tori found herself chatting with a couple of the girls who had come along with the guys, sharing stories and getting to know each other better. Jude stayed close, occasionally joining their conversations, but it was clear that the atmosphere was getting more playful as the night went on.

“Alright, alright!” one of Jude’s teammates shouted over the music, drawing everyone’s attention. “It's time for a little fun! Jude, you know the rules: it’s not a party until someone gets a lap dance!”

The group erupted in cheers, and Tori felt her heart race. She glanced at Jude, who was shaking his head, a hint of amusement in his expression. “No way,” he said, laughing. “I’m not doing that!”

“Oh, come on!” Max insisted, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “You can’t back down now! You’re the star! You can’t let the others show you up.”

The playful challenge hung in the air, and Tori felt a mix of apprehension and curiosity. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the idea of Jude being put on the spot like this, but there was a part of her that wanted to see how they would handle it.

Taking a step back, Tori watched as the scene unfolded before her. Jude was forced into a seat before a woman who had been dancing nearby, her confidence radiating as she approached him with a playful smirk. The group fell silent, the anticipation thick in the air. Tori could feel the heat rising within her as she watched the scene unfold.

The woman, dressed in a fitted top and shorts that left little to the imagination, swayed her hips as she approached Jude. Her laughter was infectious, and even he couldn't help but chuckle at the predicament he found himself in.

Jude crossed his arms, trying to feign indifference, but there was a sparkle in his eyes that betrayed his enjoyment. “Alright, just this once,” he conceded, letting out a mock sigh. The crowd erupted into cheers again, creating a whirlwind of energy around them.

Tori couldn’t take her eyes off Jude as he settled into the chair, his strong frame relaxed yet alert, ready for whatever was coming his way. The music switched to something sultry, and the woman leaned in closer, taking a seat on his lap.

The moment was light-hearted and somewhat amusing, but the smile dropped from Tori’s face as the woman pulled down her top to reveal her breast, making the room erupt as she took hold of Jude’s wrist, guiding his hands to her chest, leaning back against him as she whispered something in his ear.

This was her boiling point; her cup had runneth over. A combination of the all-too-casual comment made by Jude’s teammate, the way the world seemed to bend to his will and women flocked to him, and worst of all, her self-doubt.

Silently making her way out of the bustling hotel suite, Tori couldn't stop her eyes from filling with tears as she meandered through the crowd of party-goers, laughter and music fading into a blur around her. 

The dim lighting and pulsing rhythm of the music, which had felt so inviting moments before, now only added to her sense of isolation. Each chuckle that rang out made her heart clench tighter, each flirtation that she witnessed felt like a dagger.

Tori stepped out into the corridor and towards the elevator so she could head upstairs to her hotel room, a sanctuary she desperately needed. As the elevator doors slid shut, blocking out the sounds of the party, she inhaled deeply, trying to steady her racing heart. In the confined space, the fluorescent lights felt harsh against her skin, intensifying her emotions.

She pressed the button for her floor, watching the lights blink out as the elevator ascended. Each ping sounded like a countdown to her solitude. The moment the doors opened, she rushed down the hallway, her heels clicking rhythmically against the polished floor.

“Fuck,” Tori hissed as she remembered that she'd asked Jude to put her room key in his pocket. Wrapping her arms around herself she felt her lip begin to tremble, her vision blurring as she stood stationary. 

Tori leaned against the cool wall of the hallway, her emotions battling within her like a storm. The laughter echoing in her head from the party downstairs felt like it belonged to another world—one where she didn’t belong, stifled by her insecurities. 

Taking a breath, she attempted to calm the whirlwind inside her. She had thought tonight would be fun after their conversation on the beach. She had envisioned moments with Jude filled with playful banter and connection, but now it felt like she had lost him to the chaos, to a life he was accustomed to as a celebrity of his magnitude. 

The clicking of heels made Tori’s breath hitch and she instantly attempted to make herself small as she turned to face the door, hoping whoever it was wouldn't pay her any mind. 

“I see you have shoes on now,” a rather deep and somewhat smooth voice broke through her thoughts. Tori looked up, her heart racing as she recognized it to be the same man she’d spoken to the night before. 

He stood there, leaning casually against the wall, concern etched onto his face as he took in her teary state. Tori felt a mix of embarrassment as she swiftly wiped the tears from beneath her eyes. 

“Are you okay?” he asked cautiously. 

His voice was gentle, almost a whisper as if he were afraid that speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile moment. 

Tori took a shaky breath, trying to compose herself. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she managed to say, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her. She avoided his gaze, focusing instead on the floor, where the glossy tiles reflected her dishevelled appearance. 

“Doesn’t look like it,” he replied, stepping closer. He had an aura of sincerity that made her feel oddly safe, despite the turmoil raging inside her. “You can talk to me if you want. Or… I can just keep you company until you feel better. Your choice.”

A part of her wanted to retreat further into herself, to shut down and wallow in the emotions that had overwhelmed her. But another part, the part that craved connection, urged her to accept his offer. 

She found herself nodding slowly, her heart beating a little faster as she glanced up at him.

“I'm locked out of my room, the man I'm with has my key, but I don't want to see him right now,” she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper as a single tear slipped from her eye. 

“I don't think I'm in any place to give you relationship advice, but I might be able to help you get back into your room,” he smiled softly, looking past her beautiful, soft features to see a woman who was so obviously hurt. 

“My phone is just down the hall in my suite, I can get it and have someone bring a replacement for you.” Tori felt a wave of gratitude wash over her at his suggestion. It was a simple offer, but it felt monumental at the moment. She nodded, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, and managed a small smile. 

“That would be nice, thank you.” She looked up at him, the kindness in his expression easing some of the tension coiling within her. “I’m Tori, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Tori. I’m Alex,” he said, extending his hand for a shake. His grip was firm yet warm, a stark contrast to the chill she felt lingering in her chest. 

“Nice to meet you too,” she replied, feeling a bit more grounded. “I appreciate this. I didn’t mean to be a mess in the hallway.”

“Hey, everyone has their moments. You’re allowed to feel however you feel,” he said, his voice calm and reassuring. “Let’s go grab my phone, and then we can figure this out.”

With a deep breath, Tori nodded again, feeling a flicker of hope amidst the emotions swirling inside of her. Following behind Alex, the heels of their shoes both clicked against the floors as she trailed behind him. 

Tori knew this wasn't one of her brighter moments, but she pushed the thought aside as she followed Alex. Once they reached the end of the hall, he stopped, turning to look at Tori before stuffing his hand into his pocket to retrieve his room key. 

“Here we are,” he said, inserting the key into the lock and pushing the door open. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of lamps casting a warm ambience that felt inviting. Tori hesitated at the threshold, feeling a mix of gratitude and vulnerability. “Come on in,” Alex encouraged, gesturing for her to enter. “I promise I won’t bite.”

Tori stepped inside, the plush carpet cushioning her feet as she took in the room. It was tastefully decorated, with modern furnishings and a view of the city skyline through the large window. She felt a momentary sense of calm wash over her, a stark contrast to the turmoil she had just experienced.

“Let me grab my phone,” Alex said, moving toward the small desk in the corner. Tori stood awkwardly by the door, unsure of what to do with herself. She could hear the muffled sounds of the party still going on outside, laughter and music blending into a distant hum.

“Do you want some water or anything?” Alex asked, glancing back at her. “You look like you could use it.”

“Water would be great, thank you,” Tori replied, her voice steadier now. She watched as he moved to the mini-fridge, pulling out a bottle and handing it to her. Their fingers brushed briefly, sending a small jolt of electricity through her.

“For you,” he said, his smile warm and genuine. “Take your time. I’ll just grab my phone and make a quick call.”

Tori took a sip of the water, feeling the coolness soothe her parched throat. She leaned against the wall, allowing herself a moment to breathe and collect her thoughts. The earlier chaos felt like a distant memory, and Alex’s presence was surprisingly comforting.

As he dialled a number, she couldn’t help but observe him. There was something about his demeanour—calm, collected, and genuinely kind—that made her feel at ease. He seemed to have a way of cutting through the noise, grounding her in the moment.

“Hey, it’s me,” Alex said into the phone, his tone professional yet relaxed. “I need you to do me a favour. Can you bring a spare key to room 312? There’s a guest who’s locked out.” He paused, listening intently. “Yeah, thanks. I appreciate it.”

After hanging up, he turned back to Tori, a satisfied smile on his face. “All set. They’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“Thank you so much,” Tori said, her heart swelling with gratitude. “I didn’t expect anyone to help me like this, you certainly didn't have to.” 

“These places are kinda the family business, I have to give our guests a reason to want to return.”Tori chuckled softly, appreciating his lightheartedness. 

“Family business?” she repeated. 

“My father owns this hotel and a few others across Europe, however, this location and this specific view happens to be my favourite,” Alex explained softly as he unbuttoned his blazer, pulling it from his body so he could hang it over the back of a chair. 

Tori's curiosity was piqued as she listened to him speak. “Wow, that’s impressive. I can see why you’d have a soft spot for it. The view is amazing.” She moved closer to the window, gazing out at the city lights glimmering like stars against the night sky. 

“Yeah, it is,” Alex replied, joining her at the window. “There’s something about seeing the city from this height that makes you feel alive, don’t you think?”

Tori nodded, her previous insecurities momentarily forgotten as she shared this moment with him, a kind stranger. “It’s beautiful. It makes me feel…small in a good way if that makes sense.”

He turned to her, his expression thoughtful. “It makes perfect sense. Sometimes we need that perspective to realize that the things weighing us down don’t matter as much in the grand scheme of things.”

Tori glanced at him, surprised by the depth of his words. There was an unexpected wisdom in his demeanour, a maturity that went hand in hand with the poise and confidence that he exuded.

Downstairs, Jude found himself at the conclusion of an impromptu lap dance from a woman whose name he didn't know and who would likely slip from his memory just as quickly as she appeared. 

The dimly lit room pulsated with a vibrant energy, the sounds of laughter and chatter blending with the pulsating beat of the music that filled the air. 

As he slowly rose to his feet, a relaxed smile crept across his face, illuminated by the colourful lights that flickered around him. He scanned the crowd, searching for Tori amidst the lively crowd, ready to fall back into the bubble of intimacy they'd created for themselves. 

But as he surveyed the room, an unsettling feeling settled in his stomach. Tori was nowhere to be found. The laughter and joy surrounding him felt hollow in her absence.

“Hey, Jude!” one of his teammates called out, clapping him on the back. “Are you ready for another drink?”

Jude forced a smile, but his mind was elsewhere. “Yeah, just give me a second,” he replied, stepping away from the group. 

He made his way to the bar, hoping to catch a glimpse of Tori somewhere in the crowd, but it was as if she had vanished.

Reaching into his back pocket he pulled out his phone and quickly scrolled through his contacts, searching for Tori's number. His thumb hovered over her name, hesitating as thoughts raced through his mind.

He took a deep breath, shaking off the doubts. She deserved to know that he was looking for her, that he cared. He pressed the call button, heart pounding as he brought the phone to his ear.

The ringing sounded louder than the music, each tone a reminder of how much he needed her. But after the third ring, it went to voicemail and his stomach dropped.

Briskly making his way towards the exit of the sprawling hotel suite, Jude stepped into a long hallway, looking up and down to see if he spotted Tori. 

The hallway was dimly lit, and the music from the party faded into a distant thrum behind him. Jude’s heart raced as he called out her name softly, “Tori?” The sound echoed back, swallowed by the silence surrounding him. 

He pushed through the door leading to the entryway of the suite, scanning the bustling crowd for any sign of her. The laughter and chatter around him only amplified his sense of urgency and panic. Where could she have gone? 

“Jude!” Eduardo approached, drink in hand, oblivious to the turmoil swirling in Jude’s mind. “You good? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Have you seen Tori?” Jude asked, cutting him off. “She was right here earlier…” His voice trailed off as he gestured to the now-empty space beside him.

His teammate shrugged, glancing around. “I thought she was with you. The last time I saw her we were all watching you get a lap dance,” he smiled knowingly. 

“Do you think that's why she left?” Jude asked, his heart sinking further. The thought that Tori might have felt humiliated or overshadowed by the spectacle gnawed at him.

Eduardo shook his head, a nonchalant frown replacing his smile. “I didn’t notice. But do you really care? There are so many girls here.”

Jude felt a blood-chilling wave wash over him, sending a sharp pang of sorrow through his heart for Tori. He recalled the unease flickering in her eyes when she told him she had overheard Eduardo's careless remark earlier that day.

Exiting the hotel room for a second time, Jude ignored the calls of his teammate as he made his way towards the elevator, checking his pocket to see if he still had her room key. 

He felt a surge of determination. He had to find her and make sure she was okay. The elevator doors opened, and he stepped inside, pressing the button for her floor. As the elevator ascended, he ran through a mental checklist of where she might be. 

The thought of her feeling abandoned or upset gnawed at him, and he cursed himself for not being more attentive.

When the doors opened, Jude rushed out, his heart pounding as he approached Tori's room. The hallway was quiet, and he felt a pang of dread settling in his chest. He knocked softly on her door but was met with silence.

“Tori?” he called, his voice strained with worry. He knocked again, louder this time, his impatience growing. Still, there was no response.

Just as he was about to give up hope, he heard the faint sound of laughter from down the hall. He turned to see her walking towards him accompanied by a woman dressed in the hotel's uniform, and another man he'd never seen before. 

Tori looked a little more composed than she had before, but the light in her eyes seemed dimmed. Jude's heart raced as he took in the scene. She was smiling, but it didn't reach her eyes, and that made him uneasy. The man beside her had an easy, confident demeanor, and the sight of him standing close to Tori made a knot form in Jude's stomach.

“Tori!” he called, stepping closer, his voice cutting through the murmur of the hallway. She turned at the sound of his voice, and for a brief moment, their eyes locked. 

“Jude,” she replied, a hint of surprise in her tone. The man beside her glanced between the two of them, clearly assessing the situation. It went to the out saying he knew exactly who Jude was, it was seldom that a man of his stature went unnoticed. 

“Everything okay?” Jude asked, his eyes darting to Tori’s face, searching for any signs of distress. He felt a surge of protectiveness wash over him as he noticed the way the stranger stood close, his presence a stark contrast to the vulnerability Tori had shown before.

“Yeah, just… waiting for a spare key,” Tori said, her voice steadying as she gestured toward the hotel staff member beside her. “This is Alex. He was helping me out.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jude said, offering a quick, rather dismissive nod, though he couldn’t shake the feeling of jealousy creeping into his chest. “I was looking for her. I didn’t know where she went.”

Alex stepped forward slightly, his demeanor calm and collected. “Tori was feeling a little upset and overwhelmed at whatever happened between you, so I offered to help her get back into her room. We’ve been waiting for the spare key to arrive.”

“I’ve got it from here,” Jude interjected, the words slipping out before he could think them through. The tension in the air thickened as he shot a glance at Alex, his expression stern. “Tori, are you okay?” 

Tori hesitated, the warmth of Alex’s presence fading as she turned her gaze between the two men. “I’m okay, really. I was upset and Alex was just being nice. I didn’t want to go back to the party, that’s all.”

Jude’s heart sank at her words. “You shouldn’t have had to feel that way in the first place. I’m sorry for how things went down back there.” His voice softened as he looked directly into her eyes, hoping to convey his sincerity.

Tori felt a mix of emotions swirling within her as she met Jude's earnest gaze. His apology hit her like a wave, and she could see the concern etched on his face. It was a stark contrast to the chaotic scene she had just escaped from.

“Jude, it’s not just about tonight,” she said, her voice trembling slightly as she tried to explain. “I guess I just feel…”

“Can we talk about this somewhere more private?” Jude asked, growing annoyed with the presence of Tori’s new friend Alex. 

Tori nodded, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on her. “Yeah, of course,” she replied, her heart racing as she glanced at Alex, who seemed to sense the shift in the air.

“Thanks for your help, Alex,” Jude said, his tone more clipped than he intended. “I think we’re good from here.” 

Alex raised an eyebrow but nodded in understanding. “No problem. I hope everything works out for you both,” he said, giving Tori a reassuring smile before stepping back. 

As the hotel staff member approached with the spare key, Tori accepted it with a murmured thanks, her mind racing. She turned to Jude, who was already watching her intently, concern etched deep in his features. 

“Let’s go inside,” she suggested, unlocking the door and stepping into her room. The moment they were alone, Tori felt the familiar sense of safety wash over her, but it was tinged with uncertainty as she faced Jude.

He closed the door behind them, and they stood in the dimly lit room, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily in the air. Tori felt a rush of emotions—relief, anxiety, and a flicker of hope that they could navigate through this together.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jude asked, his voice low and filled with concern as he took a step closer to her. “I saw you with Alex, and I wasn’t sure what to think.”

Tori took a breath, trying to gather her thoughts. “I was feeling overwhelmed, Jude. I didn’t expect to see you with someone else so… carefree. I guess I let my insecurities get the best of me tonight.”

Jude’s expression softened as he processed her words. “I had no idea that you felt that way, Tori. I should have checked in with you. I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable or overlooked.”

Tori shook her head, her heart racing at the vulnerability they were sharing. “It’s not just you. It’s me too. I’ve been struggling with my own feelings, and seeing you surrounded by so many people, all of them drawn to you… I felt small and out of place.”

Jude’s heart ached at her confession, the weight of her words pressing down on him. He never intended for Tori to feel that way, and the thought of her feeling isolated in a crowd made his stomach churn. “I never wanted you to feel that way. You’re not small, Tori. You’re incredible, and I’m sorry if I made you feel otherwise,” he said earnestly, stepping closer to her.

Tori glanced up, searching his eyes for sincerity. “It’s just… this is your world, I may have been naive to think I could fit in so easily. I like being around you, but sometimes it feels like I’m an outsider looking in.”

Jude shook his head at her words. “Tori, you belong here. You belong with me,” he said firmly, taking another step closer, closing the distance between them. 

“It’s not about the parties or the crowd, or who I am to everyone else; it’s about us. I care about you, and I want you to feel comfortable being around me, no matter where we are.” he continued. 

“What if I don't know how to be?” 

[cybrasigilism]

Can you do nsfw alphabet with Jun-Ho ? If you’re comfortable with it ofc 🤭

of course! always happy to write for this diva

NSFW Alphabet with Hwang Jun-ho (The Police Officer)

warning: smut and all things of the like (unbelievable, i know i’m so sorry) | not proofread | lowercase intended | these are my headcanons for this character, please be respectful even if my opinions of the character differ from your own

character: hwang jun-ho

A/N: i love it when requests for a hot man flood my inbox, trust you jun-ho fans will certainly be getting fed! thank you so much for trusting me with your requests guys :)

MDNI! 18+ content under the cut, reader’s discretion is advised

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

A= Aftercare what they’re like after sex

⤷ very much likes to have you close afterwards, i can’t picture him being super clingy after sex, but he just wants to make sure you’re alright and doesn’t want to seem distant especially after being so vulnerable with you

B= Body part their favourite part of their body and of their partner’s

⤷ i don’t think he has a favourite part of his body necessarily, if he was forced to pick he might say his smile because you complement him on it lots. for his partner, he’s a tits man. point blank. he will be leaving hickeys all over your chest dk what else to tell you

C= Cum anything to do with cum, honestly

⤷ an orgasm control/denial lover at heart. he isn’t mean about it or anything but trust you won’t be cumming unless he says so

D= Dirty Secret a dirty secret of theirs, no fucking way

⤷ lowkey loves it when you moan his name

E= Experience how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?

⤷ he’s got a good amount of experience under his belt, but he’s not about to brag about it. of course he knows what he’s doing he does talk you through it after all

F= Favourite position this one speaks for itself.

⤷ missionary. he likes being able to clearly see how good he’s making you feel in the expressions you wear as he fucks you

I= Intimate how are they in the moment, the romantic aspect?

⤷ he does get super vulnerable during sex, so he takes the intimacy as serious as a heart attack. he’ll kiss your neck, hold your hand while he goes down on you, and he makes sure to tell you how good you’re doing for him

J= Jack off masturbation headcanons

⤷ 100% uses masturbation as a de-stresser after work

K= Kinks one or more of their kinks

⤷ cockwarming, morning sex, orgasm control if you squint, face sitting

L= Location their favourite place to do the do

⤷ the bedroom ofc, his car, anywhere you two can be alone he doesn’t mind

M= Motivation what turns them on, gets them going?

⤷ smelling good. whether it be you just got out of the shower, or you’re wearing that perfume he likes, it’s a great way to make him lose focus

N= No something they won’t do

⤷ rough sex, that and threesomes

O= Oral their preference on giving or receiving, their skill etc.

⤷ he’s not one to turn down receiving oral, but he loves eating you out so much more. being able to make you cum as many times as he wants, just having that control is something that can’t be beat

P= Pace are they fast and rough, slow and sensual? etc.

⤷ his pace right in the middle, in that sweet spot of being rough and soft at the same time.

Q= Quickie their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.

⤷ every so often he doesn’t mind them, but he would rather not

R= Risk are they game to experiment? their opinions on risk taking etc.

⤷ he’s someone who likes to stick to what he knows. if it isn’t broken, why fix it?

S= Stamina how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last? etc.

⤷ he can last a fair amount of time, around 6-7 minutes per round. he’ll start to falter if you guys go multiple rounds, of course

U= Unfair how much they like to tease

⤷ he teases you a little bit, but only if you instigate. if you get flustered at his response, he’ll typically respond with “don’t start something you can’t finish.”

V= Volume how loud are they, what sounds do they make? etc.

⤷ oh god, when he moans it’s few and far between, but he will be going on about how good you’re doing. “that’s right, you’re doing so good for me.” “god, i needed this so bad, you’re perfect for me.”

W= Wildcard a random headcanon

⤷ good with his tongue. like unbelievably good. you guys didn’t even do penetration the first time solely because of how much he made you cum on oral alone

X= X-ray what’s going on under those clothes?

⤷ he’s jacked. don’t know what else to tell you, sorry 🤷‍♀️ as for size, he’s 7” hard. might be another reason you guys didn’t do piv the first time

Y= Yearning how high is their sex drive?

⤷ his sex drive is actually quite low, but somehow the sex is still fantastic when you guys do fuck

Z= Zzz how fast do they fall asleep after?

⤷ he doesn’t typically fall asleep till way after you’ve gone to bed. this isn’t on purpose, he just doesn’t tire out easy

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

so sorry for the delay! i promise i’m working as fast as i can on these requests, i hope this was worth the wait and theres always more to come! as usual any advice/constructive criticism for my writing is greatly appreciated and requested!

tags: @gongyoosgf @marymustdie

[kawoala]

Can you write smthn with kenma

Literally anything but fluff pls

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐀 𝐊𝐎𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐄 you’re getting better word count ; (751) content warning ; (video games, soft! kenma, not a lot of cw’s with this one guys, also not a lot of talking, this isn’t as good as i wanted it to be but umm ENJOY!)

The soft glow of the TV screen illuminates the room, casting a gentle light over everything, but your attention is solely on the game in front of you. The controller feels odd in your hands as your thumbs move quickly over the buttons, your eyes flickering between the screen and the person sitting next to you. Kenma is hunched over, his focus unwavering as he plays with that quiet intensity that you’ve come to love. His hair falls slightly from the hair tie, but he doesn’t bother pushing it away. He’s too absorbed in the game to care about something as simple as hair.

You can’t help but admire how effortlessly he plays, his movements smooth and calculated. Each time he presses a button, it’s with purpose, and you feel like you're trying to keep up with his rhythm, struggling to match his precision. It’s not a competition, but you still can’t deny that the small part of you wants to impress him.

"Kenma, wait up!" you call out, your character getting ambushed by enemies, and you're frantically trying to get out of the mess. You look over at him, slightly exasperated, but he doesn’t even look up from the screen, his expression unchanged.

"I’m not waiting. You have to learn how to dodge better," he says, his voice soft, but there's a hint of amusement behind it. You pout, pretending to sulk, but you can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

"Not all of us are professional gamers like you, you know," you tease, moving your character in a circle to avoid another attack.

Kenma just shrugs nonchalantly, though you can see the glimmer of a smirk forming at the corners of his mouth. "It’s all about practice," he says simply, his tone matter-of-fact as he deftly takes out a boss in the game with a single well-placed move.

You watch him for a moment, impressed by how effortlessly he handles everything. His fingers glide over the buttons, never missing a beat. It’s like second nature to him, and for a brief second, you wonder if he’s even human. But then, when your character dies yet again, he pauses the game, finally turning to you with a small sigh.

"Here," he mutters, offering his controller to you. "You need to take a break."

You blink at him in surprise. "But I’m—"

"I know," Kenma interrupts, shaking his head. "You’re getting too frustrated. Just… watch for a bit."

You take the controller reluctantly, but instead of immediately handing it back, you rest it in your lap, watching him as he continues playing. His brow is slightly furrowed, and his mouth is set in that familiar, concentrated line. But every so often, you catch him glancing at you, almost as if he’s making sure you’re okay.

"You're really good at this," you say quietly, almost as an afterthought, but Kenma hears you.

He doesn’t respond immediately, and you think maybe he didn’t hear you properly, but then he glances at you again, his eyes softening.

"You’re not bad either," he says, his voice low but sincere, and it makes your heart skip a beat. He says it so casually, but you know Kenma doesn’t give out compliments unless he truly means them. It’s rare, and when it happens, it feels like a quiet victory.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting like that— him playing, you watching— until he suddenly pauses the game, the characters frozen on the screen.

"Alright, your turn," Kenma says, handing you the controller again. You blink at it, slightly startled. "You’ve been watching long enough. Time to try again."

You grin at him, taking the controller with newfound resolve. "Alright, Kenma. Don’t get mad when I show you how it’s done."

He raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a small smile. "You can try."

You start playing again, this time with a little more confidence, moving your character more smoothly, avoiding attacks with better timing. It’s not perfect, but it’s better. And Kenma watches, silent but approving, his quiet presence a comforting weight beside you.

"See?" you say, glancing over at him, a smirk on your face. "I’m getting better."

Kenma gives a soft, almost imperceptible smile, and for a moment, the world outside the game doesn’t matter. All that matters is the shared silence between you two, punctuated only by the rhythmic sounds of button presses and the occasional murmur of approval from Kenma.

"Yeah." he nods, his tone almost fond. "You’re getting there."