#can someone like punch people in the face or something

[00valentina-writes00]

✞⛧Vi x a terminally sick girlfriend✞⛧

✞⛧ Vi is a fighter, through and through, but loving someone terminally ill breaks something inside her that even her fists can’t fix. The helplessness gnaws at her constantly.

✞⛧ She spends countless sleepless nights sitting by your side, watching your chest rise and fall, terrified that one day it won’t. She forces herself to stay awake even when her body begs for rest, just in case.

✞⛧ You’re her anchor. The thought of losing you makes her feel like she’s drowning in an ocean she can’t punch her way out of.

✞⛧ At first, she doesn’t handle your diagnosis well. She storms out, her knuckles bloodied after hitting the wall repeatedly. She doesn’t cry until she’s alone, in some dark corner of the Lanes, where no one can see.

✞⛧ Despite the rage and sorrow, Vi vows to make every single day you have left as perfect as she can. She plans little surprises—a flower picked from some forgotten corner of Zaun, your favorite food (even if it takes hours to find), or just a quiet walk.

✞⛧ She starts working herself to the bone to afford medicines and treatments, even if it means taking dangerous jobs. The bruises and scars she brings home mean nothing compared to keeping you alive a little longer.

✞⛧ Vi softens around you in a way she doesn’t with anyone else. Her tough exterior cracks when she’s with you, and her voice drops to a whisper when she reassures you.

✞⛧ The guilt eats at her because she can’t save you. She’s supposed to protect the people she loves, but there’s nothing she can do except watch you slip away.

✞⛧ When the illness leaves you bedridden, Vi does everything for you without complaint—feeding you, holding you when you’re too weak to sit up, tucking you in when you shiver from the pain.

✞⛧ She gets fiercely protective when anyone brings up your condition in a way she deems insensitive. One wrong word, and her glare alone silences them.

✞⛧ Vi refuses to cry in front of you. She wants to be your rock, your strength, even if she’s breaking inside. She waits until you’re asleep to break down quietly, her hand gripping yours as tears streak down her face.

✞⛧ Despite her stoic front, she often sneaks glances at you when you’re not looking, memorizing every detail of your face, every line, every laugh, terrified she’ll forget when you’re gone.

✞⛧ Vi starts keeping a journal, documenting every memory with you—the way your laugh sounds, the way your hand fits perfectly in hers, your inside jokes. It’s her way of holding onto you forever.

✞⛧ She asks Ekko to help build small, practical devices to make your life easier—like a self-warming blanket for cold nights or something to help you breathe easier.

✞⛧ Caitlyn offers support, but Vi struggles to let anyone else in. This is her grief, her pain, her love for you, and it feels too personal to share.

✞⛧ You tease her about being too serious sometimes, and for your sake, she tries to crack a joke or two, even if her smile feels strained.

✞⛧ On your bad days, when you’re in too much pain to talk, she sits beside you in silence, holding your hand. She whispers promises you can barely hear—that she’ll never forget you, that you’ll always be with her.

✞⛧ Vi learns how to braid your hair when you’re too weak to do it yourself. She spends hours perfecting it until it’s just how you like it.

✞⛧ She tells you stories of her childhood, even the painful ones, just to make you smile or laugh at her antics. She’d give anything to see you happy, even for a moment.

✞⛧ When the end grows near, Vi becomes a shadow of herself. She’s quieter, more withdrawn, and the only time she speaks is to you.

✞⛧ You make her promise not to let grief consume her, and though she nods, you both know it’s a promise she won’t be able to keep.

✞⛧ The day you pass, Vi is holding your hand. She whispers that she loves you, over and over, as if saying it enough times might keep you with her.

✞⛧ She doesn’t cry when you take your last breath. She goes numb, her grip on your hand tightening as if she can will you back to life.

✞⛧ Vi spends hours by your side after you’re gone, refusing to leave. Her shoulders shake with silent sobs, her head bowed, but no one dares to approach her.

✞⛧ For weeks after, Vi walks through the Lanes in a daze. Her fists itch for a fight, but even throwing punches doesn’t bring the release it used to.

✞⛧ She avoids Caitlyn and Ekko, pushing everyone away. The weight of her grief feels too heavy to share, and she doesn’t want their pity.

✞⛧ Vi returns to the journal she started for you. She writes letters to you, filling the pages with everything she didn’t get to say, everything she wishes she could still tell you.

✞⛧ She keeps something of yours—a piece of jewelry, an old sweater—and carries it with her everywhere. It’s her way of keeping you close.

✞⛧ Vi finds herself visiting the places you loved most, sitting in silence and pretending you’re still there beside her.

✞⛧ The nights are the hardest. She reaches for you in her sleep, only to wake up to an empty bed, and the ache in her chest feels unbearable.

✞⛧ Despite her grief, she keeps her promise to you in small ways—helping kids in the Lanes, being kinder, trying to be the person you saw in her.

✞⛧ Sometimes, Vi talks to you when she’s alone, as if you’re still there. She tells you about her day, her struggles, and how much she misses you.

✞⛧ Your memory becomes her driving force. She throws herself into protecting the people she loves, determined not to lose anyone else.

✞⛧ On the anniversary of your death, she visits your grave with flowers. She sits for hours, talking to you as if you can hear her.

✞⛧ Vi never stops loving you. Even years later, she finds herself looking for glimpses of you in the faces of strangers or hearing your laugh in a crowd.

✞⛧ Your absence leaves a permanent mark on her, but she carries your love like a tattoo on her soul—painful, beautiful, and everlasting.

✞⛧ Vi finds peace in the fact that, even though she couldn’t save you, she gave you everything she could. You were her greatest love, and she’ll carry that love with her forever.

✞⛧ In her quietest moments, when the world slows down, Vi whispers your name like a prayer, her heart aching but grateful for the time you had together.

[rhiannonsknife]

hii!! i know you are busy with the but im a cheerleader nat fic, but do you think you might maybe write more for Lottie?

also thoughts on meangirl Lottie.. i feel like when she first meets someone she can be a little guarded, wanting to keep her image so when you call her out on her bs she feels attacked and then starts a rivalry between the two.. anyways to summarise meanlottie tension with the new girl on the team when Lottie takes it too far and says something really mean at a party and new girl storms off but Lottie finds her and shows her how much she DOESNT hate her because shes actually a softie but she kind of treats new girl as a punching bag bc shes new and called her out

Im genuinely so sorry if this doesnt make sense i am so bad at explaining but i have a vision i swear😔

🫎 anon :)

i love this idea so much 🫎 anon!! hopefully i got your vision here!!

lottie matthews, you should’ve realized sooner, is untouchable.

at least, that’s how she wants people to perceive her.

everyone on the team knows better than to test lottie; even jackie, the whs’ golden girl in her own right, lets her have her moments.

you, on the other hand? you’re new. maybe that’s why you didn’t seem to get the memo right from the beginning.

it starts small enough: a subtle jab at practice, a teasing remark about your form, the kind of thing that could be dismissed as playful banter if not for the smug tone in lottie’s voice. and then there are the looks: the way her dark eyes flick over you during drills, sizing you up for reasons you can’t seem to wrap your head around.

it doesn’t take long for you to call her out.

“got something to say, matthews?” you ask one day, sharp enough to draw a few surprised glances from your teammates.

for a second, lottie looks genuinely caught off guard. and then her mask slips back into place, her lips curving into that insufferably confident smile. “i’m just looking out for the team,” she says. “can’t have the new girl slowing us down.”

from that moment on, it’s war between you.

lottie calls you out for each fumbled pass in practice. in the locker room, she’s leaning against the row of lockers closest to yours, waiting for you to pass to call out a snarky comment. and even during team meetings, when you make a suggestion about changing up a play, lottie scoffs. “sure,” she says, leaning back in her chair. “let’s just toss out what’s been working because you think you know better!”

things only reach a breaking point weeks later, at one of the parties.

you don’t even remember what starts it: some offhand comment about your outfit, maybe, or the way you’ve been talking to nat a little too long for lottie’s liking. either way, her words hit harder this time, meaner than usual.

“god, you’re so desperate to fit in,” she says suddenly “it’s pathetic!”

the words land like a slap, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.

for a second, all you can do is stare at her, your chest tight and your pulse pounding in your ears. lottie doesn’t look away. she stands her ground, her arms still crossed over her chest.

nat shifts beside you, clearly uncomfortable, but she doesn’t intervene. no one does.

you don’t trust yourself to speak, not when your voice feels like it might crack and give her the satisfaction she’s so clearly looking for. instead, you turn on your heel and push through the crowd, ignoring the whispers as you walk out.

lottie finds you a little while later, sitting on the back steps of the house with your head in your hands. you don’t hear her approach until she’s right beside you and says: “i shouldn’t have said that,”

you flinch, whipping around to face her. “what do you want, lottie?” you snap. “haven’t you done enough for one night?”

her usually upright posture falters as she stuffs her hands into the pockets of her jacket, her gaze flicking between you and the ground. “i didn’t mean it,” lottie says, quieter this time. “i just…i don’t know.” she sighs, running a hand through her hair. “you get under my skin!”

you let out a bitter laugh. “glad i could be of service then”

“that’s not-” lottie cuts herself off. “i’m not good at this, okay? you called me out, and i didn’t know how to deal with it, so i pushed back. too hard. i know that.”

when you look up, you’re surprised to see something raw in her expression. regret.

“i don’t hate you,” she says finally, her voice soft but insistent. “i don’t even think i dislike you, if i’m being honest. i just…i don’t know how to handle you!”

before you can respond, lottie crouches in front of you, close enough that you can see the faint flush on her cheeks. “you’re not pathetic,” she murmurs. “far from it. and i’m sorry if i made you feel like you were!”

you’re unsure how to process the vulnerability she’s laying bare. this isn’t the untouchable, put-together lottie you’ve come to know. this is someone softer, someone who’s trying, even if she doesn’t quite know how.

lottie seems to take your lack of an answer as a bad sign, her lips pressing into a thin line. “let me make it up to you,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “please.”

[supercorpkid]

Truth Be Told

Supergirl. Baby Danvers. Lena Luthor x Reader! Kara Danvers, Alex Danvers.

Word count: 2830

Note: Ending coming soon :)

You hear the sound of Lena’s laughter cut through the low hum of conversation in Kara’s apartment, before you even see her. Your chest tightens, waiting for her to appear, excitement flooding your veins. You’re halfway through pretending to listen to Alex tell a story when the door opens, and Lena walks in. She's radiant tonight—as if she’s bottled up the sun itself—and it’s impossible to look at her without feeling the ache deep in your bones.

It takes you a second, but you freeze when you notice. Someone next to her, her hand resting lightly on his arm.

He’s tall, clean-cut, and wearing that easy kind of smile that makes you want to punch something. Or someone. He’s the kind of guy who’d show up in a toothpaste commercial, all charm and no substance. And worse—far worse—is the way Lena glances at him. It’s soft, fond, like she’s letting him into that guarded part of her heart you’ve spent years trying to reach.

You try to swallow, but your throat feels tight, like it’s closing up on itself. The blood in your veins feels hot, too hot, as though it’s boiling with every second he stands there with his hand on the small of Lena’s back.

“Hey, everyone!” Lena’s voice is bright, cheerful, as she pulls him farther into the room. “I hope it’s okay that I brought someone along. This is—”

You don’t catch his name. You don’t want to. Hearing it would make him real, give him weight, and you’re not ready to let that happen. All you know is that he’s here, in your sister's home, standing too close to your Lena — that right now looks awfully a lot like his Lena —, and you have to chug on your beer, not to scream.

Kara’s the first to break the silence, stepping forward with her signature warm smile. She’s perfect, as always, welcoming him like he’s not currently tearing your heart into a thousand jagged pieces. Alex follows suit, offering her usual blend of sarcasm and charm, and soon enough, the room is buzzing again, everyone effortlessly pulling him into the fold.

Everyone except you.

You’re still rooted to the spot, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. You force yourself to breathe, to smile, but it feels like your face might crack under the strain. When Lena’s eyes find yours, something in her expression softens. And that’s worse. Infinitely worse. Because how could you possibly be okay when she’s looking at you like that while standing next to him?

The games start soon after, and you’re grateful for the distraction, even if it’s half-hearted at best. Kara teams up with Alex while Lena and him end up on the same side. You’re paired with Winn, who’s so distracted into proving himself the smarter, he doesn't even notice you're not really truly there. Every laugh Lena gives, every fleeting touch between her and him, feels like a dagger twisting deeper into your chest.

At one point, during a pause in the game, you catch Lena leaning into him, her hand brushing his arm as she whispers something that makes him chuckle. Your stomach churns, and you look away quickly, holding back the tears so no one sees it. 

The night drags on, each moment stretching into an eternity, until finally—mercifully—it’s over. People start filtering out, Alex and Winn making some excuse about an early morning at the DEO, and Lena calling her driver. You’re about to grab your coat and escape when Lena’s voice stops you.

“Hey, can I talk to you for a second?”

You hesitate, your heart pounding in your chest, but you nod, following her to the corner of the room. She’s smiling at you, that same soft, warm smile that’s been haunting your dreams for years, and it takes everything in you not to break down right then and there.

“I just… I wanted to thank you for being so welcoming tonight,” she says, her voice quiet, sincere. “It means a lot to me.”

You want to tell her the truth. You want to scream that it wasn’t okay, that none of this is okay, that watching her with him felt like dying a thousand tiny deaths, and that she wasn't paying attention enough if she is thanking you for it. You swallow the words clawing up your throat. Your desire to tell her it took everything in you, not to throw him into space. Instead, all you do is nod, forcing a tight smile.

“Of course,” you manage, your voice barely above a whisper. “As long as you're happy.”

Her smile falters slightly, like she’s about to say something else, but then he calls her name from across the room, and the moment is gone. She glances back at him, all her attention gone just like that, like it was never truly yours, like this moment never even belonged to you in the first place. Like a punch to the gut.

You don’t wait for her to look back at you. You turn and walk out, the cool night air hitting you like a slap to the face as you step outside. Your chest feels heavy, your eyes stinging with unshed tears, but you don’t let them fall. Not yet. Not here.

Lena deserves to be happy. And you're going to be happy for her, even if it makes you miserable.

Or so you thought.

The park is alive with the kind of cheerful chaos that makes you feel even more out of place. Parents call after kids, dogs bark, and the occasional bike whirs by on the gravel paths. You’d come here to clear your mind, to get away from the memories clawing at your chest—but then you see her.

Lena’s sitting on a bench, her coffee balanced delicately between her fingers, her hair catching the sunlight just right. She looks like a painting. It's hard to look away. But then you noticed that he’s next to her. Too close. Leaning in with that same toothpaste-commercial charm, his hand resting on the bench behind her like he’s been there forever.

Your first instinct is to leave. But you don’t. Instead, you linger beneath a tree, your senses tuning into her the way they always do. It’s automatic, a reflex you can’t unlearn.

He says something, and Lena laughs, soft and brief. But the sound doesn’t sit right. It’s too airy, too measured, like she’s pushing it past the tightness in her chest. Your ears pick up the faint, steady flutter of her heart—it’s calm, not quickening like it should be. The thought cuts deeper than you’d like to admit.

You grip the bark of the tree behind you, grounding yourself as your gaze fixes on the scene, eyes unblinking. He brushes her hand when he moves to adjust his coffee cup, and you feel the heat rise in your chest. Your focus sharpens without meaning to, catching the soft rush of blood beneath her skin. Her pulse doesn’t spike. There’s no quick hitch in her breathing, no sign of the butterflies you imagine she might feel for someone she truly loves.

Her laugh sounds strangled, trapped somewhere between politeness and something she won’t let herself acknowledge. And yet, she’s here, sitting beside him, letting him think he has a chance.

A cruel voice whispers in your head: Maybe that’s enough for her. Maybe she doesn’t need the kind of laughter you bring.

Your jaw tightens, and you force yourself to look away, staring blankly at the tree line. It doesn’t matter what you hear or see or feel. She’s made her choice, hasn’t she? She’s sitting there with him, and you’re standing here alone, your heart burning in your chest like it might never go out.

And yet, that laugh—so hollow, so unlike her—lingers in your mind. You could make her laugh. Really laugh. The way her heart would stutter and skip, her breath catching on the kind of joy she’d only feel with you.

If only she could see it.

But when you glance back, her hand brushes his arm, and she means the kiss she leaves on his temple. The way her skin erupts in goosebumps when he leans in to murmur something low and almost dirty in her ear—it twists something in your gut. You hate it. Hate the way her body responds to him, hate the jealousy crawling up your spine like poison, hate the hollow ache settling in your chest as if it’s been carved out to make room for the hurt.

Your vision blurs, and you blink hard, forcing the tears back before they can make you feel any weaker than you already do. Maybe you're just imagining things. Maybe Lena is exactly where she belongs, and you're selfish for wanting her anywhere else. Yeah. That has to be it. You're the problem here, not him. 

So the best thing you can do—for her, for yourself—is to step back. 

Give her time. 

Silence. 

Distance. 

The kind of absence that makes it feel like you exist in separate universes. As if she was never in your life in the first place.

It's been going great. Too great, actually. You've kept your head down, avoiding places where you might run into her, ignoring invitations, going silent whenever her name comes up. Maybe—just maybe—she was never meant to be in your life at all.

And God, that thought hits harder than kryptonite. Harder than any punch you’ve ever taken. Maybe even harder than the moment you thought you were going to die.

So tonight was supposed to be simple. A sister’s night—just you, Kara, and Alex, trading stories over snacks, something easy, something safe. But then Lena called. Her voice was quieter than usual, saying she had something important to talk about. Before you could brace yourself, Winn showed up, bearing beer and pizza, as if summoned by some unspoken tradition. And then J’onn followed, his presence steady, grounding, never needing an invitation—just a quiet acknowledgment that he belonged.

You wanna bolt. Just run out of there as fast as you can. But something compels you to stay. Perhaps you just want to hurt yourself, looking at Lena's happy face with someone else one more time. Perhaps you just need a little reminder on why you need to stay away, why she is so much better when you're not around.

The apartment hums with warmth and familiarity, the kind of atmosphere where secrets feel safe. You’re leaning against the counter, pretending to listen to Kara and Alex debate the rules of Scattergories, when the sound of the door opening pulls everyone’s attention.

Lena steps inside, looking composed but with something tight in her expression, like she’s holding onto the edge of a cliff. Kara is the first to greet her, of course, her voice warm and curious.

“Hey! Come in!” Lena does. Alone. “Where's your new boyfriend?”

Lena hesitates, and it’s enough to make the air in the room shift. “Yeah, about that,” she says, drawing in a breath so deep you can almost hear it steadying her.

Your chest tightens, your heart pausing mid-beat, waiting for the words you’re certain will crush you.

“We broke up.”

“Oh no, Lena. I’m so sorry.” Kara’s already reaching out, her hand finding Lena’s arm in a gesture of comfort, her face painted with concern.

You, on the other hand, are frozen. Blinking. Processing. And before you can stop yourself, your gaze drops to your feet as you fight the instinctive smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

“It’s okay,” Lena continues, her voice quieter now, like she’s preparing herself for what comes next. “But hm… the reason we broke up is—”

Your head snaps up, your mind racing ahead of her words. There’s a reason. Maybe it’s you. Maybe she broke up with him because of you. It’s not you. It can’t be you. Stop it. Shut up.

“I’m gay.”

She's gay? She's gay. She's gay!

Your mind is reeling. Lena's revelation has got your mind spinning completely out of control. You can’t seem to move, can’t even breathe properly as the room around you buzzes with congratulations and warmth. Kara is beaming, of course, pulling Lena into one of her signature hugs that leaves no space for doubt about how proud she is. Alex welcomes her into the club, her smile genuine and wide. Winn makes a joke, earning an "hey” from your sisters. And even J’onn, who’s usually more reserved, leans in for a quick embrace, whispering something you can’t quite hear but can imagine is heartfelt and supportive.

And you… You’re just standing there. Stuck.

You never thought Lena was gay. She dated James, Jack, and well, him. The one whose mere presence set your blood boiling every time. That guy who got to be the one standing next to her, laughing, touching her like he was the center of her world. The simpleton who had no clue what it was like to hold someone like Lena Luthor in his arms, to know the depth of her heart, the complexities of her mind. That asshole who could casually claim her as his girlfriend, while you…

You scowl. 

It’s not that you’re not proud of her. Of course you are. Coming out like this, in front of everyone—it’s brave. It’s huge. But your chest feels tight, your heart caught in a mess of emotions you can’t even begin to untangle.

Lena is gay.

The words echo again, sharper now, cutting through your thoughts like a blade. And with them, a flood of memories crashes over you—fragments you can’t quite control. The way her heart seemed to quicken when you entered a room, the faint pink that bloomed across her cheeks when your teasing lingered just a little too long. You’ve seen it—felt it—in the way her laughter spills out, unguarded and golden, as if the world around you dissolves and it’s just the two of you, sharing something unspeakably yours.

You remember the warmth of her hand, brushing against your arm whenever she stood close enough, the way her fingertips lingered like they had something more to say. The way her head would tilt, her lips curving into that impossibly soft, almost secretive smile, like you’d managed to charm her despite herself—even when you were rambling on about nothing at all.

Your throat tightens.

You never thought all of that could mean something more. You never let yourself hope. Lena is… Lena. Always too perfect, too pretty, too unattainable. She belongs to a different world, one where you are only ever a friend at best, an afterthought at worst.

But now? Now there’s a new piece of the puzzle. One you can’t ignore.

You glance at her, and the sight punches the air out of your lungs. She’s glowing, radiant in the light of her truth, her cheeks flushed as she basks in the support of your friends. She looks happy. She looks free. And it hurts. God, it hurts in a way you weren’t prepared for. Because now you’re left with the gnawing realization that while Lena might be free to live her truth, you’re still caught in the web of your own silence.

You want to say something. You want to do something. But all you can do is stand there, rooted to the spot, your mind screaming what your lips won’t dare to:

I love you.

By now, everyone has shown their support, and when Lena’s eyes land on yours, you know everyone else’s eyes do too.

“Lena,” You whisper, softly, and her name tastes different now, like a promise, an oath. “I—I’m so happy for you.”

Her smile is huge when she steps closer, and for a moment, you forget how to breathe. There’s a warmth in her eyes, something soft and inviting, and it makes your heart ache in ways you can’t describe.

“Thank you,” she says, her voice steady, but the weight of the words carries more than you ever imagined. It nearly breaks you. “That means a lot coming from you.”

From you.

Your knees feel unsteady, as though the floor beneath you is losing its grip. The air is thick around you, too hot and too crowded, and you feel every heartbeat thrumming in your ears. You want to look away, but you can’t. You’re frozen, caught in the quiet intensity of her gaze.

“I—” You start, but the words catch in your throat. What could you possibly say that wouldn’t ruin this moment for her?

And then, mercifully—or cruelly—Winn says her name, pulling her attention away. She turns, and the spell breaks.

You glance around and catch Kara’s eye. Her brow furrows in that way she does when she’s piecing something together, and for a terrifying second, you think she’s figured it out. But then she smiles away, and you breathe deep. You're safe. Your secret's protected. And your love is buried deep inside you. 

[ematini]

So I was thinking about the whole music videos situation in Arcane and guess what, I once again have something to say. No surprises there.

Arcane soundtrack is absolutely amazing, that's true for both seasons, but compared to season 2, season 1 contains significantly fewer montages. In season 2, music isn't just a background for current events. Instead, we get montages, which are basically used as a skip forward button for the show's time skips of unspecified length. A mandatory "Hey, that's what's going on in the world, but we don't have time for that. Now, back to our favorite character!"

Visually, they're gorgeous, but that's not what Arcane was originally praised for. They're more eye-catching music videos than actual storytelling. Good for Riot's promotional material, but when you put them in the middle of an episode? It makes the originally full world of arcane feel like an empty board on which characters play without any real impact on the world around them. Sure, it can be done well, like they did with Firelight's introduction in season 1, but not when it's used to tell very important parts of the story that SHOULD have an impact.

It's abundantly clear in episode 3.

Yep, that infamous part. We montage through Caitlyn using the Grey in Zaun and move past it. That's it. No real influence on the story, characters, or the world.

Imagine if they used the same approach on Jayce and Vi storming the Shimmer factory. If, instead of a mission going wrong, they showed us a montage of them taking over one factory after the other.

I know someone will come screaming "Oh, but they Grey wasn't used on civilians!" Well guess what, Jayce and Vi didn't want to hurt civilians either, that wasn't their intention, just an accident. Are you telling me that during Caitlyn's Strike Team Adventures™, no kid suddenly got in the way? No one was running away in panic and got punched in the face? They were dismantling Shimmer factories too. What happened to all the kids there? None of them panicked at the sight of five fully armed Enforcers?

That is exactly the issue with how they handled that topic and why people are so quick to defend this and Caitlyn's actions and honestly, i get the thought process. It's the writing's fault. Everyone is always screaming about media literacy, show don't tell, you don't have to be shown every single detail, the show shouldn't dwell on it, etc. But the moment they don't literally show us this on screen, people forget about the consequences of the last failed strike attempt at Zaun's criminal underground. They're are quick to say that everything worked out fine, no need to nitpick. But is it nitpicking, if the show made that clear before?

You can't just storm in and take over. Innocent people will get hurt. That's the conclusion Jayce walks away from this. That's the reality of the situation. But it's conveniently forgotten about when the writers don't want to deal with said consequences.

[sklarissa]

I want to throw Masks: A New Generation into consideration. It's a game all about being a teen superhero figuring out who you are and struggling with deeply personal issues. It creates dramatic personal stakes in five interesting ways.

The Playbooks each center on a coming of age struggle that's common in young superhero stories. The Transformed, for example, is grappling with the fact that they used to be human but were turned into something scary and unsightly, while the Janus is trying to maintain a superhero/civilian double life. Meanwhile you have playbooks like the Legacy, who has the weight of generations bearing down upon them - part of the playbook is creating adult NPCs of your superhero lineage who all have their own expectations of who you should be.

The Labels replace stats. Instead of having a precise definition of your characters stats and abilities, you have five Labels (Danger, Freak, Superior, Savior, Mundane) that govern how other people see you, and how you form your own self image. You're a teen, you don't know the limit of your powers. This ties into point 3 which is

Influence - whenever someone with Influence over you (which includes all adults by default) tells you who you are or how the world works, they will attempt to shift your Labels. You can choose to either accept their words, or you have to fight back to reject what they say. Your own personal image is constantly shifting, and you have to really work at it to maintain a stable sense of self!

Conditions instead of Harm/HP. Masks doesn't care about how much damage you took when that villain punched you in the face and sent you flying across the room. It cares that you getting punched across the room was embarrassing, and now you're feeling Insecure in front of your team, which makes it harder for you to reject the influence of others when they tell you who you are. You're a teenager - you can't keep a lid on your emotions all the time, and sometimes you feel ways you don't want to feel. Do you want to stop feeling Insecure? Then you'll need to take foolhardy action without consulting the team first - perfect for creating drama!

The GM Rules are created to drive this drama forward. GMs have three main 'commandments' for playing NPCs. They have to Treat their NPCs like Hammers: Square Peg, Round Hole. Every NPC has an idea of who the players should be, and they take active steps to change and reshape the PCs, by Telling Them Who They Are Or Who They Should Be. The GM is also commanded to Bring NPCs to Rash Decisions and Hard Conclusions - big shot adult heroes are always quick to think the worst of inexperienced kids. Meanwhile your parents care about you a lot - but that drive to keep you safe will have them jumping to the worst possible conclusions. Overall, these GM Rules are the spark that sets fire to all those other interlocking mechanical systems of Influence, Conditions, and Labels.

https://www.tumblr.com/thydungeongal/769949043465093120/i-often-see-this-when-people-air-out-their

What do “dramatic, personal stakes” look like in tabletop gaming? What games center them in their mechanics and how?

Alright, so there are lots and lots of games out there that do this in very different ways, so this is going to be a very long and meandering answer.

Starting with the most "trad" example, Pendragon, the game of playing knights in Arthurian Britain that freely mixes history and myth, is for the most part a very traditional adventure game, but it also introduced the idea of Passions and Personality Traits to give mechanical heft to characterization. These are effectively measured on the same 1 to 20 scale as regular skills and attributes in the game, meaning that they can be "tested" just like skills, but they also have the potential for putting the player character into trouble. A character with the "Hates Saxons" Passion will have their hate actually manifest in play, whereas a character who is high in Lustful and low in Chaste will find themselves entangled in lots of romantic drama. Character personality will thus actually have concrete game mechanical effects. The Passions system has since been ported into more recent editions of RuneQuest and its descendants, including Mythras.

Fate is a more modern indie RPG that is less concerned with measuring out Exact Statistics and more about modeling narrative convention. Fate characters are, more so than their skills, basically defined by their Aspects, which are effectively narrative tags that define How a character should behave in a story and What sort of stuff should be happening to them. Aspects can be invoked (using Fate points, the game's main meta currency that the whole game operates on) for bonuses on actions that relate to that tag, but they can also be compelled to put the character into trouble in a way that makes sense for their Aspect, thus granting the player a Fate point if they accept the compel. Aspects are pretty much at the core of Fate and they are utilized for much more than just characterization: new temporary aspects can be created on the fly to represent things in the environment, aspects can be used to represent things in the world and the wider narrative, injuries and consequences of losing conflicts are effectively temporary aspects, and so on. This way the game is largely one where the meta resource management game ties heavily into things that matter in the fiction.

Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy (by @anim-ttrpgs) is another very trad RPG and a game that is very much a "going on an adventure" game (but the adventure is a mystery that needs to be investigated), but the game adds a bit of extra mechanical heft to characterization of make it clear that the game is about regular people investigating mysteries: the Trait system is one of the most important mechanical dials for character customization and Traits are effectively packaged options with both benefits and drawbacks, and those mechanical effects also inform characterization very heavily; Truths are unique to each investigator and are something I would compare to Fate's Aspects but much more precise and personal and less meta, giving investigators minor bonuses on actions in a scene when they are acting according to their Truth; and finally, Tiers of Fear, which are also very personal to each investigator, define how an investigator reacts to various fear stimuli that exist in the world and thus also heavily intersect with the game's Composure mechanic. All of these mechanics interact with an investigative game with a very clear intended gameplay experience to further influence characterization and add personal stakes into the narrative.

Getting back to the more avant garde, Chuubo's Marvelous Wish-Granting Engine is a game that I still struggle to wrap my head around because it's a game for smart people, but as far as I have understood: the gameplay largely revolves around player characters choosing personal goals called Arcs which are further divided into Quests; each Quest is defined as a number of experience points that must be accrued towards the quest for it to be completed, as well as specific actions that characters can do to gain bonus experience on those quests, and then you basically just. Let your characters loose on quests. The important thing is that while quests can be shared among a group (for a more traditional "Group of Heroes Going on an Adventure" narrative, which Chuubo's does also support) they are also personal (so each character will have their own personal quests they will be working towards) and asynchronous (a character may pick up multiple quests over their arc and not complete them in the same order as they started them, as some will be shorter diversions on the path towards victory). Again, this is a very broad-strokes, top-down view of how the game works, because it is a very heady game that I have yet to wrap my head around. If any Chuubo's fans notice any egregious omissions or mistakes here, please let me know.

Finally I'll finish with something a bit broader, the World of Darkness "series" of games, while not having anything quite as in-depth as personality mechanics, do all have various mechanical frameworks for tying characterization into gameplay: the Classic World of Darkness games had their Archetypes, effectively defining a broad personality archetype that the character needs to act according to in order to regain Willpower; the Chronicles of Darkness games have Vices and Virtues, with characters having one of each, once again defining how they regain Willpower; and I'm sure the newer Paradox White Wolf titles also have something to that effect as well. Basically, little carrots dangled in front of player characters to encourage characterization and acting according to a specific archetype. It's neat!

[us-the-voices-and-more-voices-2]

me everyday: oh yeah my government hates the disabled smh

you guys: what

me: the clusterfuck that is the NDIS and the Australian governments complete willingness to let you straight up die is uh.. pretty dang palpable!!! (by fuck is it bad man, by fuck is it bad.)

most of my disabled friends are poor as shit and cannot earn enough to buy a house or rent a house, or get food, or anything.

I myself will probably never own a house and will probably have to lie about being disabled as to not uh... be payed less money then my abled peers <3 fuck this country sometimes!!!!

plus they are beyond god awful to our First Nations people. fr like if you are disabled and aboriginal by fuck do you have a hard ass time, beyond hard.

why is it like this.

[vampmilf]

hold on im still too mad at this one fucking guest to take a nap i need to be a hater for a minute

[sammygender]

YALL ARE NOT SERIOUS PEOPLE no way i’m looking at the tumblr tag for spn 7x03 aka the sam centric flashback episode dealing with his childhood trauma and how he feels like he’s a freak and everyone is just posting about DEAN. dean and his stupid fucking pie. dean winchester used to be my guy! genuinely! s2-3 i truly thought i was a deangirl! But you people (plus this show atp lmfao) are making me hate him😭

[milfbrainrot]

thinking a lot about separatist attitudes on here that have done more harm than good in the past

remembering how when i was younger it was common to reblog posts about discrimination etc with a disclaimer in ur tag that you don't personally experience what's being talked about, or at least something on ur blog listing out ur privileges. and like, privacy concerns aside, i also remember when it then became Problematic to do tags because it's a Reminder to the minority op that... other people exist and were trying to make the post about themselves or something?

like maybe the argument was that it came off like a way to get points for reblogging a post about oppression while not experiencing it urself, even though... in my experience the reason we did that was because our identity labels determined what we could/couldn't do in the eyes of our surveilling mutuals. if i reblogged a post about racism without clarifying my own identity, people might assume i wasn't white and put my opinions through a lens i shouldn't have had, because i also fully believed the idea that only people who experience a thing can have valid opinions on it.

it also determined whether you were Allowed to reblog posts with certain slurs, or reblog posts about something as simple as listening to music if it was from a blog with bpd in the handle but you didn't have bpd because listening to music with a mental illness makes it... different somehow. so you needed to be as transparent as possible so people could judge your morality appropriately and it was normal to want that because otherwise what are you trying to hide and don't you want to improve? etc. and i do think, superiority complexes aside, people did think they were doing a good thing when they'd send me asks like "hey you reblogged a video where a black person says the n slur but you're white so you shouldn't be communicating that by extension!!!"

like of course we have to keep our own privileges in mind when discussing certain topics. it does have an impact, something something intersectionality. but the culture around this being SO micromanagy and invasive seemed to create more divides because relating to people with different experiences was Bad and trying to be supportive was impossible to do in The Right Way.

we need to be more critical of the info we get, of course! but being in a tumblr sphere where you could only listen to minorities about their oppression meant that when some black blogger said it was fetishistic to find people of color attractive, i went "okay i won't do that then!!" instead of realizing... hey maybe barring myself off from finding anyone who isn't white attractive as an attempt to not be racist is in fact looping right back around to being racist. you need to be mindful of what that attraction entails and how to go about relationships fairly etc, but it was basically asking us to find people of color unattractive????? which kinda sounds fucked up!

and that doesn't even begin to cover how so many minorities have different opinions on things, and then i later realized if i could be wrong and change my opinions about things related to my own identity that's not a solid mindset to have. "listen to minorities instead of platforming oppressors about these matters" got totally misconstrued into listening to takes that make no sense from 15yr olds who had been identifying as lesbians for 2 months total, because ur made out to be an idiot who can't think for urself if you don't share an experience. i say this as a lesbian but lesbians seemed to spearhead so much aphobia that it was justified because welp, gotta listen to lesbians and other queer people about this even though they haven't yet unpacked the personal issues that come along with intersectionality yet! and ofc, ignoring the queer people who did support aces and aros because that was decided to be homophobic to do.

i think we can go forward into these conversations consciously without going so hard about it that we end up creating new walls between us and anyone different, but thinking it's okay because These Walls Say I'm A Good Person For It. like, back to the disclaimer tagging, i feel like if i made a post abt lesbian stuff and ppl were tagging it with a disclaimer abt being straight it would be weird but appreciated that it's solidarity from people i wouldn't have expected it from at the time.

i also think that having microlabels and split attraction and all these different ways of letting people embrace queer relatability (for example, since this applies to some things more than others) even if they're not the traditional definition of the label is a good thing because more investment and support for an oppressed community can only be a good thing in the end. but no, you can't have an icon of a character of color if ur white, even though doing so would help other people find the show and therefore support it!

we are all so much more similar than we are different and as long as people are mindful of their experiences versus those of others in the right contexts, and as much as i get why people did want to treat their tumblr circles like locked forums where they wouldn't have to deal with cis people asking questions or having misconceptions on their posts... i just don't think the infighty/hostile ways we went about it and still do go about it sometimes ended up as helpful as people treated it to be.

but whatever, tumblr is tumblr.

[featherymainffins]

*potently insane* I should re-read Monster by Naoki Urasawa

[robinsnest2111]

tfw I find out that some problematic behaviours, thoughts, and urges I experience when in a stressful/triggering situation are actually considered black and white thinking

hmm. interesting. I wasn't aware that that's what I'm doing.

[gibbearish]

"can bi nbs say dyke" "can trans men say tranny" "can this specific identity reclaim this slur" ENOUGH !!! ALL that matters is whats in your heart when you say it. is there love for your community or is there hate for people not like you. are you saying it to hurt someone or to give a hurtful thing new love-filled meaning. theres your answer.

terfs are finding this now so just to head this off at the pass my tranny ass will not be debating you, you are going to be instantaneously blocked so you may as well save us both the trouble of typing out whatever long rant youre planning about how im an evil transsexual betraying the community by daring to call myself a faggot or w/e. also go fuck yourself

edit 2: hey terfies do you think perhaps that the fact you had to block me before purposefully starting fights with randos in my replies says something about the kind of people you are? do you think that's the kind of thing good people do? can you look yourself in the eyes and genuinely tell me that deep down you don't know that if you constantly have to lie and infiltrate and block evade to harass people, that just means youre a shit person? can you with a straight face say that doing these kinds of things actually feels morally sound, that there's no tiny sliver of yourself in there that knows youre acting like a piece of shit all the fucking time which is why everyone leaves you when they find out about your beliefs? could you honestly tell me that a person who acts like that is good, and that behaving like this actually makes you feel like you're adding something positive to the world? or is it just the rush that comes with punching a wall in rage?

you harass trans people for the same reason parents beat their children: it feels good to hurt other people when youre mad. it feels good to take your anger out on someone else. and so you find people you can hurt and you convince yourself youre doing it because theyre stronger than you, that youre fighting back, you punch and you punch and you keep punching on and on forever. because that anger is addicting and trans people have always and WILL always exist, so we will always be available as a target.

look at the way youre behaving and ask yourself if this is what you want to be doing with your life. and google the signs of a high-control group. and if youre going to be a piece of shit in my replies then at least don't be a major fucking coward about it. unless youre literally 12 you should not be arguing like a middle schooler starting fights about steven universe. grow the fuck up and get real problems

[joonberriess]

e s p r e s s o

⋆ TAGS — boxer!jk, he’s a fanboy, pouty jkkkkkk, oc’s a idol, sugar daddy elements, fluffy, rom-com vibess, jk’s secretly a little sub who loves praise, praise kinks, making love, jealous!jk, possessive!jk, rough sex, pussy-eating, unprotected sex, creampies, very light dirty talk, oc’s a tease, jk just loves oc, some violence (nothing serious jk punches a guy), oc’s a pillow princess, mainly dom!jk, subby!oc who is a menace, jk is super protective and a good bf, he beats someone up for you, tit play

⋆ WORD COUNT — 14.6 k

Jeon Jungkook was many things—charismatic, “lover boy”, charming—but the biggest one of all: a pain in the ass (for Yoongi). Jungkook was the type of guy to do whatever he wanted WHEN he wanted.

The kid had a strong backbone, Yoongi will give him that but it was an absolute nightmare dealing with the press for someone like Jungkook. Yoongi can count on his fingers how many times Jungkook’s gotten into heat for his loud ass mouth. Sometimes not all publicity was necessary whether it was good or bad in Yoongi’s opinion (not that anyone’s ever asked).

“Where is he? That little shit–” Yoongi growls behind gritted teeth as he storms through the gym towards the private training room Jungkook usually practiced in.

He slams the door open and locks eyes with his target, “There you are–!”

Jungkook stops in his tracks and turns around in surprise, “Hyung?” He’s confused as fuck because he’s been behaving himself lately, sooo what did he do now? “Yoongi hyung—ow! What the hell was that for?”

“How many times did I tell your ass to keep your little flings under the radar? I told you: if you’re gonna be fooling around with people do it on the down low but no, you just gotta fucking let the world know huh?” Yoongi seethes, literally trembling with rage from where Jungkook stands.

Jungkook makes a confused noise, “But I didn’t–”

“Then, what. The. Fuck. Is this?” Yoongi slaps his phone in Jungkook’s face, on it there’s some tweet with an article linked to it.

Jungkook squints his eyes mumbling under his breath as he reads the tweet out loud, “..Idol l/n y/n caught in a dating scandal with infamous boxer Jeon Jungkook–what’s the big deal though, everyone usually ignores these types of things.”

Yoongi looks like he wants to scream, “Kid you realize you’re a celebrity right?” Nod. “Okay, and she’s a celebrity too right?” Nod. “So why in the FUCK wouldn’t this be a big deal? I mean, it’s not like we’re not talking about the nation’s ‘sweetheart’ here, the country’s fucking pride and joy.” He really needs a fucking smoke right now.

“Hyung it’s just a fucking rumor she probably doesn’t even care or know about it, I don’t see why you’re stressing out. Not like I know her either,” Jungkook carelessly says as he throws a few punches at the bag, “you’re gonna end up bald with how you’re stressing right now.”

Yoongi takes a deep breath, in, out, in, out. “Because, idiot,” emphasis on the idiot, “this shit is getting out of control, you have any idea how many fucking news outlets are talking about this? For fucks sake the entire country is in shambles cause their ‘precious’ y/n is supposedly dating some lowlife boxer, no biggie really it’s not like I haven’t been getting threats either over this little stunt of yours.” He glares.

Jungkook lets out an exasperated sigh as he stops in his tracks, “Hyung I didn’t do anything, so fucking what if I posted a pic with my photocard, it’s MY photocard! Don’t her fans do that shit too, so why is it a problem that I do it too?”

“Because people think you’re dating now! They think you’re soft launching her or something!” Yoongi tugs at his hair, “You realize if people find out you fucked with her just to get in her bed they’re gonna lose it and not just on her but you mainly. You want a fucking witch hunt out for you? Because you know damn well they love her more than you.”

“Ouch.” Jungkook grumbles petulantly.

“No, ouch, use your fucking brain think about the damage you’ll take all because you wanted to fuck their little princess.” Yoongi glares.

Jungkook’s almost offended that Yoongi would think of him like that. Sure he had his fair share of groupies and models but Jungkook wasn’t a complete asshole about it! He had feelings too, he’s not sorry that he was fucking casually like any other normal person who was looking to unwind. It also isn’t his fault that they labeled him a playboy.

In the eyes of the public Jungkook was a menace as there were rumors of him knocking models up and cheating on the girls he’s ever gotten spotted with. Everyday he woke up and there was something new that came out whether it was him “dating” or his flings coming out to talk about their one night stands.

Needless to say he didn’t have the best public image.

“Okay let me stop you there, I’m not after her for sex or anything. If you really want to know, I'm actually interested in her. I wanna get to know her some more and take things further y’know?” He huffs and wipes the sweat off his brow with his shirt.

Yoongi scoffs, “Yeah right, I’ll believe it when I see it.” As he finishes his sentence the door opens and Namjoon pops in with Seokjin, the two team members hauling in some duffle bags in tow.

“What’s going on? The hell Yoongi look so red for?” Namjoon huffs as he drops the bag gracelessly, “Jungkook what did you do now?” He clicks his tongue in disappointment, tutting him like a misbehaved child.

Jungkook’s mouth drops open, this traitor! He’s supposed to be on his side, not Yoongi’s. Seokjin interrupts with a loud cackle, “What didn’t he do?” Another traitor! Jungkook can’t believe this, his own hyungs against him.

“Long story short Romeo over here is in a dating scandal—not with just anybody though, fucking l/n y/n. Y’know, the poster child.” Yoongi spits harshly, shooting Jungkook another pissy look while he’s at it.

Namjoon’s mouth drops open in shock, Seokjin actually looks pretty terrified too which is funny because if only he could see the face he’s making right now.

“No way you’re insane for that, shit good luck with the press because they don’t play about their little popstar.” Namjoon manages to utter once the shock passes.

Jungkook glares, “I didn’t do anything! They’re mad I’m showing off my photocard, I bet you that they’re jealous because they don’t have this one.” He huffs and thrusts his phone out to show them his phone case.

“What exactly did you do?” Seokjin laughs.

“Nothing! I posted a mirror pic and I didn’t expect a bunch of crazies to over analyze shit and spot the photocard. Not like it’s MY fault people make up narratives and shit.” Jungkook rolls his eyes and tucks his phone away safely in his pocket, “But you know what, just wait and see.”

“Wait and see what?” Namjoon snorts in amusement.

“Hyung doesn’t believe me but I’m serious about her, I’m gonna ask her out and from there maybe talk and get to know each other. One thing for sure she’s gonna be my girl unless she slaps me in the face and tells me to leave her alone or somethin,” Jungkook grins as he elbows his still pissed off manager.

Seokjin looks at him with a shit-eating grin, “Sure let me know how that ends up going for you.”

Jungkook purses his lips, “You’ll see..”

𓂃 ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⟡

They end up in Miami for a boxing match Jungkook has pending but his opponent ended up coming down with something so it got canceled. Now Jungkook has no clue what to do for an entire week and it doesn’t help that he’s jet lagged, hungry, and tired. Not a good combination.

“Did they say when the match will be back on?” Jungkook mumbles boredly from his spot on the lounge chair in his hotel. He’s slumped over scrolling down his phone looking at random shit on his feed.

“Hard to tell Kook, apparently the guy’s really sick and can barely get outta bed or somethin’. They said it was better to wait it out for a week and see what happens with him.” Yoongi sighs deeply, “Fuck, just our luck too.”

Jungkook nods in agreement, “What do we do now hyung? Do we go back or..?”

Yoongi takes a seat on the opposite side of him with a shrug, “Dunno, do whatever you want since the match is canceled. Me and Joon gotta stay back to talk with the event organizers and shit.”

He goes quiet for a few moments before sitting up, “Oh wait there’s an award show going on right now, they sent me an invite for you but I don’t know if you wanna go or not.”

“Award show?” Jungkook makes a face but what other shit does he have to do? It’s not like he’s got a match anymore anyways, maybe the after party will be cool or something. “I guess, why do they want me there?”

“Appearances for the press—you know, the usual.” Yoongi hums.

Jungkook’s lips are pursed as he looks around deep in thought. DOES he wanna go? It’s not like this would be the first time they’ve asked him to make an appearance but Jungkook doesn’t really like these types of things. Red carpets and interviews are so tedious and time consuming.

Wait—

“Hyung!” He suddenly gasps, “Holy shit—pass me my suit.” He says as he bolts away into the bathroom.

Yoongi looks at him in confusion, “What..kid what the hell are you on?” He snorts, “Don’t tell me you’re excited to go to this thing.” Nonetheless he still takes out Jungkook’s suit for him and lays it on the bed.

“No you don’t understand,” Jungkook cuts off as he splashes his face with water, “y/n is probably gonna be there!”

“y/n—Jungkook really?” Yoongi groans, “I thought you were playing around last time, I didn’t think you were actually serious about it.”

Jungkook holds back his whine, “Hyung you always think I’m playing around, why isn’t anyone taking me seriously about her! I swear I have good intentions.”

“I dunno, maybe cause you have a habit of sleeping with anything that walks and looks pretty to you. Or maybe the fact that you’ve done this before. Should I remind you of that one model from Cancun?” Jungkook pouts, “Or the bartender chick from LA?” His pout deepens, “Or the girl from Paris?”

“Okay I get it!” Jungkook grumbles, “But this time I’m serious hyung, more than I ever been about someone—especially her.” He says with a sigh while changing out of his clothes and into the suit Yoongi laid out for him.

Yoongi sighs deeply, “Look all I’m saying is to be careful how you go about this, it’s a lot at stake right now not just because of you being involved with her but the fact that the public has their opinions about you already as it is.”

Jungkook appreciates the sentiment but he doesn’t need anyone to approve or disagree about his feelings. The public didn’t deserve any explanations over what Jungkook chooses to do with his life, he’s here to fight and that’s it. Not to be anyone’s marionette or dress-up doll.

“I know hyung, thanks.” He smiles back and slips his blazer on, “I’ll text you later on and tell you what happens.” Yoongi doesn’t reply verbally rather with a low grunt, “See ya.” Jungkook says with a final grin and heads out of the room down to the main lobby and into a car Yoongi had waiting for him.

On the way to the venue he checks out the award show on Instagram, he sees a lot of people he recognizes and a few new faces. His eyes scan over the page eagerly in hopes of seeing you on there. Are you performing tonight? Were you already there on the red carpet? Oh he bets you look absolutely divine tonight (you always do).

“Yes!” He says a bit too loudly startling his driver in the process as he sheepishly apologizes.

Jungnkook finally comes across a post about you and he reads over the caption with an excited hum, biting his lip when he sees that you are performing after all. He’s getting a mean adrenaline rush right now like the ones he usually gets before his matches. Just thinking about how he’s gonna get to meet you tonight is getting him all worked up. He wonders if you’ll even give him the time of day.

Only one way to find out.

.

“Jeon over here!”

“Jeon, look here!”

“Jeon, is it true you and y/n are dating?” Jungkook makes a point to ignore this and act like he didn’t hear it even though he’s screaming on the inside.

The red carpet’s full of singers and models, the fans are screaming and reporters keep getting in his damn way as he tries to make his way through the crowd. Of course he stops for a picture or two with a fan, poses for the paparazzi too but he’s not concerned with them right now. He knows he must look a little lost with the way he keeps looking around like he’s trying to find something (yeah, you).

Jungkook almost frowns like a child who didn’t get their way once he sees you’re not anywhere in sight. You probably already headed inside which sucks cause he really wanted to see you beforehand since it was probably arranged seating in there. At this rate he won’t be able to even say hi–

“Oh shit, my bad.” Jungkook says when he bumps into someone behind him. He turns around to apologize properly when his heart fucking stops. Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod—it’s you.

You look up at him with those dreamy eyes of yours, face scrunched up cutely (your lips pouty) in confusion as you tilt your head up (UP!) to look at him, “Um, you’re stepping on my dress.” Even your voice is so prettyyy.

“Sorry my fault,” Jungkook steps back and kneels down to fix the rumpled state he left it in, vaguely aware of the fast flashing (the paparazzi must be eating this up), “lemme make it up to you though.” He says once he comes back up.

You tilt your head, “And how would you do that?”

“I’ll buy you a new dress.” Jungkook’s dead serious too, if you asked him to buy you a whole house he’d do it in a heartbeat. Take everything at this point—have it.

“And who said I want you to buy me things?” You muse softly.

Jungkook chuckles softly and leans down to talk in your ear because the crowd’s getting louder and it’s hard to talk to you, “Don’t be like that, if you let me take you out I’ll show you all the things I can buy you.” He murmurs low, voice husky.

You tilt your head to look at him, eyes dropping down to his lips and then back up as a coy smile plays at your soft lips, “You’re funny.” You pat his cheek with a soft manicured hand and walk away.

His heart nearly skips a damn beat when you do that. Oh he swears he can still feel your soft hand sliding over his cheek when you walked away from him like the little tease you were. He doesn’t know how long he stands there until he gets moving, a stupid grin on his face the entire time as he replays the moment over and over again in his head.

Jungkook’s not gonna lie, this little cat and mouse game that just started has him eager for more. He’s so getting your number by the end of the night, call him delusional but he swears you’re digging him too with the way you checked him out just now.

He spends the entire night throwing a few sneaky glances your way, hell when you got on stage to perform he nearly folded then and there. Everything about it—sultry gaze, soft husky voice, and sensual body rolls—was perfect. Jungkook don’t even care that people are watching him ogle you in 4K, he doesn't bother to hide the fact that he likes what he’s seeing right now.

To make things worse you pass by his seat and shoot him a dazzling little smile, waving your fingers coyly at him which makes the people go wild. Oh he’s in love. Jungkook makes a point in looking for you afterwards at the afterparty. You’re changed out of your outfit from earlier, now in a pretty babydoll and your little Prada loafers.

When he makes eye contact you shoot him a smile, “Thought I’d wear something you can’t step on again.”

Jungkook snorted softly, “I already told you, I dunno why you’re being stubborn, quit playing and let me take you out already.” He says smoothly and wraps his arm around your waist, surprised that you don’t push him off or anything.

You look him up and down with a soft hum, “Mmmm I’m kinda in the mood for some paella.”

“Then let’s go.” Jungkook’s ready, he will literally drop everything to get you some paella.

“Not from here though, I hear it’s way better in Spain.” You wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him down so he’s eye level with you, “So unless you’re willing to take me to Spain, I’m not going anywhere.”

Jungkook licks his lips, “Fuck it, let’s go.” He starts leading you away, peeping the way you look surprised, “What?” He laughs.

“You’re serious, right now?” Once you recover from the initial shock you smile at him with a quiet giggle, “You’re crazy.”

Oh he just adores that cute eye-smile of yours, “Let’s get you some paella yeah?”

It’s a nine hour flight you both impulsively leave on with no bags, didn’t even tell your managers, and only your phones and wallets. No one questions when Jeon Jungkook walks through first class hand in hand with you trailing close by, you’re even wearing his blazer over your shoulders because you complained about how chilly it was.

Jungkook’s smiling like an idiot the entire time he’s sitting with you in the first class cabin. You don’t seem to mind how touchy he is so he keeps an arm over your shoulder so you’re pressed close to his side. He nearly screams when you lay your head on his shoulder and doze off into a peaceful slumber.

You left Miami around one in the morning and got to Madrid at nine with Jungkook booking you two a room at the infamous Four Seasons hotel. You knock out with him for a few more hours until you’re complaining about your paella.

“Hurry up, I'm starving and you promised me my paella.” You grumble and poke at his face.

“Yeah, yeah I’m awake.” Jungkook murmurs calmly as he rolls out of the bed to make himself presentable.

Jungkook feels like he’s in a dream right now, god this better not be because the sight of you looking so happy in front of him while eating your beloved paella is one for the books. Your little brunch date turns into a shopping date because you complain you don’t wanna be wearing clothes from yesterday since the two of you decided to stay in Spain for the weekend.

He has a goofy smile on his face as he swipes, taps, and inserts his black card at different stores you drag him to. He lets you spend his money how you want to, relishing in the way the BVLGARI store worker’s eyes nearly bulge out of their head when Jungkook pays for a forty-eight thousand wrist watch, all for you.

“Doesn’t it look pretty?” You grin softly while holding your wrist out to him.

Jungkook gently takes your hand in his and admires the watch, “Perfect, really suits you.” He grins softly as he thanks the employees and heads out with you to another store to see what you find.

By the time Sunday comes Jungkook’s spent well over one-hundred grand on you but does he care? No, not really because he did say he’d show you all the things he’d buy you. Jungkook doesn’t wanna go back to Miami but Yoongi’s bitching at him to go back because apparently his opponent got better and the match was back on and set for Tuesday the earliest.

“Let me make you mine already.” He finds himself mumbling low in your ear as he tugs you into a loose hug, not caring that you two were standing in the middle of the airport about to board different flights back (of course he pays for your first class ticket home).

You look up at him with coy eyes and a soft little smile on your glossy lips, god he just wants to kiss the fuck out of you but he doesn’t because you haven’t give him the okay for anything past non-sexual intimacy which he’s fine with because he does wanna take time to get to know you.

His breath hitches when your finger comes up to trace over his lips gently, “Cute.” You don’t say anything else and walk away after the intercom announces your flight. You leave him standing there in the middle of the airport, dreamier than ever but sadly it’s cut short by his phone ringing.

“Where the hell are you?” Yoongi growls.

“Calm down hyung, I’m boarding in a few minutes.” Jungkook sighs as he rolls his eyes, “I got so much shit to tell you.” He smirks to himself and begins walking.

𓂃 ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⟡

Sometime into the next week when Jungkook lands back in Korea he asks for your number through Instagram. He’s kinda surprised you gave it to him instead of dodging him like before, nonetheless he’s happy and giddy about it. He quite literally looks like a schoolgirl kicking her feet in bed texting her crush, that’s how he feels like right now.

You’re a quick texter which he likes and you don’t seem to mind him spamming so that’s even better. Jungkook spends his week giggling over dumb shit (it’s not) you say which has Seokjin making fun of him for it, which speaking of them they still couldn’t believe Jungkook pulled you.

“No way let me see.” Seokjin had demanded, “You’re lying, she would never, she looks like she has standards.” Jungkook can’t tell if he’s jealous or something, maybe he’s a secret stan too who knows.

Jungkook long established he was down bad for you ages ago but this just took the cake, a whole new level of simping. It starts when Jungkook decides to post a training video of him boxing/training, he goes viral and trends for a week because in the background he’s playing one of your songs. He’s got a shit ton of people calling him a “girly pop” or “cunty boxer” but most tell him he knows what’s up.

He doesn’t know but by him doing that it opens a new door to your developing relationship because you start asking him to do things for you. It starts with you telling him to change his profile picture with a pic from your latest comeback (he gets made fun of by your fans but he doesn’t care).

Then you make him tweet: “stream y/n for clear skin” while promoting your music video through him (again he’s a laughing stock). The nail in the coffin is when you prettily request him to wear a shirt from your merch collection after one of his boxing matches.

“Oh my god.” Yoongi says with his mouth dropped open in shock as Jungkook steps out of the backroom wearing a baby pink t-shirt with your face all over it, the cameras flash like crazy and reporters yell out a slew of different questions.

Jungkook runs around carefree in his little pink shirt posing for the cameras and grinning like an idiot because he knows you’re probably at home watching this. Yoongi asks him why he does these things and Jungkook just shrugs, he likes the praise you give him for doing everything you ask him to. He knows it’s light-hearted fun and you’d never do anything to humiliate him intentionally, if you’re happy then that’s all that matters.

jk: did u see me tonight?

y/n <3: yess lol can’t believe you actually did itttt

you looked super cute too, you should wear more shirts with my face on them.

jk: mayyybeeee you can come to one of my matches? don’t u think i earned it?

y/n <3: when is it?

Jungkook damn nearly yells out in excitement, he’s literally shaking as he types out a fast response like you’re about to change your mind or something. He sends you the time and day for it, promising front row seats so you’ll have a good view as he kicks this guy’s ass. You have him cheesing when you say this is going to be your first boxing match too, he’s so excited now.

“Calm down kid you’re gonna give me a headache with all that tapping.” Yoongi grunts as he slaps his hand against Jungkook’s knee, “I don’t know why you’re nervous, she already told you she’s here.”

“Because hyung! This is a big deal to me, she’s here at one of my matches and she’s gonna get a front row view of the fight. Now I have to win this, I have to make it worth her time.” Jungkook grumbles with a pout.

Somewhere off to the side he hears Namjoon snort at him, “She’s really got you wrapped around her finger don’t she?” He says while hauling in a cooler with water bottles.

Jungkook doesn’t even refute that statement, he barely bothers to acknowledge him because he’s reading over the texts you’re sending him. “Hyung she said yes to coming to the after party!” He grins cheerfully.

“Good now get your head out of your ass and focus on what I’m about to say. You have less than five minutes before you’re up in that ring and I need your head in the game.” Yoongi says sternly as he plucks Jungkook’s phone out of his hand, “You remember what I said about pacing yourself?”

Jungkook sits there listening as Yoongi goes into trainer mode, he knows his hyung means no harm and just wants him to win this so Jungkook can’t really be mad at him. He must have zoned out because Yoongi brings him back with a sharp smack to his arm, “Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook smiles as he stands up, “let’s do this.”

“Get out there and make me proud.”

The entire atmosphere outside has Jungkook’s adrenaline kicking in already. He hears the crowd chanting his name, the loud booming music, and the chatter from the on-goers. He mentally psyches himself, lightly bouncing on his feet as he closes his eyes and mumbles a small prayer. Once he hears his name echo loudly and the screams he steps out with his gloves in the air.

This is what he lives for—the crowds, the music, and the atmosphere. He looks around the arena with a grin as they chant his name over and over again, stopping here and there to pose with fans. Jungkook’s not entirely focused on them though, his eyes wander through the front row looking for you and when his gaze finally lands on you he can’t help the big smile he sports.

You look so pretty with your MIUMIU glasses over your head. You’ve got on a plain baby white tee under your black leather jacket, some low rise jeans and your loafers. Right now you’re the center of attention in your section with people taking pics of you from every direction and some asking for an autograph. You even brought your little friend (Jeon Soyeon?) along.

As he passes by Jungkook shoots you a wink to which you wave back with a flirty little smile. He doesn’t miss the way your eyes skim over his bare chest and the desire begins fueling him with more determination to win. Sure he likes winning because who doesn’t? But now he has more reason to win, he has to impress his future girl.

Jungkook gets pulled up on stage with his heart drumming against his ribcage, he’s so ready for this. The ref calls out both of them and soon enough after slipping his mouth guard and gloves on he rises to his feet and stalks forward slowly with a glint in his eye.

“I want a clean fight okay,” the ref says to both as Jungkook nods, “alright, to your corners.” He sends them both away, the announcer saying some shit Jungkook doesn’t really concern himself with.

Jungkook makes eye contact with you one last time, the two of you mutually nodding before the sound of a bell has Jungkook immediately shifting his focus. He’s light on his feet and takes his time watching with diligent eyes as his opponent circles around him, waiting to get the hit on him but Jungkook’s faster.

The guy swings but Jungkook easily dodges, another swing and Jungkook manages to catch him off guard with a sucker punch to the jaw sending the guy reeling backwards. Jungkook feels like he had enough time to warm-up, he doesn’t play around anymore and launches himself towards his opponent with determination.

Punch after punch and round after round ends with Jungkook delivering one final blow, easily sealing this poor guy’s fate as the guy just lets go and falls to the ground. The referee jumps in, counting down from ten as Jungkook watches with anticipation and adrenaline, ready to go again if this guy gets up. He sees Yoongi sitting with clenched fists and a hopeful look in his eye, and then he sees you.

You’re looking at Jungkook with worry, eyebrows furrowed and doe eyes filled with concern. He manages a bloody smile despite the fucking world of pain he’s in right now (he’s not looking forward to the ice bath after this). He swears the world around him blurs until he finally hears the bell and the announcer’s voice echoing through the arena.

“Knockout!”

Jungkook sags in relief as he hears cheers and yells all around. The paparazzi flash him with their cameras as the crowd loses it, Jungkook turns in time to see Yoongi crawling into the ring and bringing him in for a tight hug, “You fuckin’ did it kid,” he laughs in disbelief as he has Jungkook spit his bloody mouthguard out.

“Fuck hyung, water.” Jungkook rasps out as Yoongi yells for Namjoon to come over.

“You good?” Yoongi asks, “Look at me kid, you okay?” He pats his cheek as Jungkook nods tiredly given that the adrenaline rush was now gone, leaving him bruised and exhausted.

Namjoon comes over with water as Jungkook takes sips, spitting it out into a bucket Yoongi holds out for him to rinse his mouth out. The referee comes over to announce Jungkook as the winner as he stands there barely holding on from pain. He makes eye contact with you again, smiling through the exhaustion despite feeling pretty shitty right now. He slowly makes his way over as you simultaneously rise from your chair to meet him halfway.

“So, what do you think?” Jungkook smirks as he crouches down and hops out of the ring.

You pout cutely with a frown, “You’re hurt.” You softly murmur as your delicate hand comes up to cup his face, “I’m happy for you though, you did really amazing.” You smile.

Jungkook feels his heart swell with happiness hearing that, he goes to wrap his arm around your shoulder but stops in pain. He forgot about this part as a low groan slips from his lips, “Shit he got me pretty good.”

“Don’t overexert yourself,” you help him wrap an arm around you, “gotta be careful, you took some pretty hard hits in there.”

Jungkook laughs tiredly as he lays his head on top of yours while you walk together to the back, “Shoulda seen the other guy.” He says low, ignoring the pointed glare you shoot at him, “Yeah, yeah, I’m just messing with you.”

You grumble something under your breath but he doesn’t catch it, he’s riding off on the high from winning and being so close to you. He likes this and wouldn’t mind having you in his life more after this as he’s long made peace with the idea of you being in his future. All he can think about at this moment is you, you, you.

.

“Say you can't sleep, baby, I know that's that me, espresso,”

Jungkook’s laughing and talking with his friends, he’s got you wrapped up in his arms pressed against his chest as he nurses a whiskey in his other hand. You play with one of his necklaces and tune out his conversation which he doesn’t notice until he turns to you and sees how sad you look, “What’s wrong?”

You look up at him and shake your head, “Just thinking.”

“About?” He gently prods, shifting his entire attention to you.

“You didn’t look so good earlier..how do you do it? I mean, I get you trained for this but I dunno, kinda scared me seeing you all beat up.” You softly murmur, “It’s just a thought of mine, I don’t mean to offend you or anything.”

Jungkook softens at that, he thinks it’s adorable you’re worrying about him like that. Almost feels like.. “Let’s dance?” He asks when a favorite song of his comes on, “C’mon, it’ll take your mind off things.” He grins.

You smile at him softly and follow him to the dancefloor, wrapping your arms around his neck as he holds you by the hips with gentle hands. He hums along to the song playing in the background with his dark eyes trained on yours. You look so beautiful under the dark lights and he can’t help but lean in.

“You’re super pretty y’know that?” Jungkook softly hums as he presses his forehead against yours.

You softly laugh, “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Mmm did I mention I really like your lips?” His lip curls in a smirk, “Love how soft and plump they look, ‘specially when you wear lip gloss..” He slowly trails off as his lips hover over your own, “Can I kiss you?”

The way your eyes light up, crinkling with joy as you eagerly nod. Jungkook presses his lips to yours in a gentle manner, it’s sweet and slow, just like how he likes it. Your arms tighten around his neck and you tug him further down until he's towering over your figure, blocking you from everyone’s view.

Feels like everything’s complete now and Jungkook’s never felt happier than ever.

He slowly pulls off from the kiss as he stares down at you suddenly feeling shy, “Can I, um, maybe drive you home? Just to make sure you get home safe ‘n stuff. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, just thought I’d ask.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You gently reply.

A slow smile spreads over his lips and he nods, “Let’s go then.” He guides you out of the party and into his sleek black car that’s parked out in the front.

The car ride’s quiet and peaceful, he has the windows rolled down as the fresh breeze brushes over the two of you. Jungkook wishes the car ride lasted a little longer but it’s late (two in the morning actually) and he knows you’re tired. He makes a mental note to take you out on a drive next time you guys meet up.

“We’re here baby.” He murmurs softly, gently waking you from your sleep.

“Hm?” You sleepily blink and look around, “Damn, I’m more tired than I thought.” You smile tiredly while stretching your arms out.

Jungkook chuckles, “Don’t worry I got you.” He steps out and rounds the car, opening your door for you and helping you out, “Want me to carry you?” He teases.

You shoot him a sleepy pout and shake your head, “I’m good, maybe next time though.” You breathily chuckle.

“There’s a next time?” He teases.

You toss him a knowing look, stopping in front of the building door, “Good night, or morning I dunno I’m tired.” You spin around and lean over to smooch his cheek gently, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You softly murmur.

Jungkook’s completely entranced by you as he nods slowly, “Night.”

“Morning.” You teasingly correct him as you make your way inside.

Jungkook doesn’t leave until he sees you hop into the elevator, and even then you still wave at him before disappearing inside. Once you’re gone Jungkook lets out a deep sigh as he leans back on his car, what a night.

𓂃 ﾟ｡ ⋆

A few weeks pass and it’s nothing but bliss for Jungkook. Seeing that he has no matches lined up or anything he decides to hang out with you nearly everyday whether it be you and him going out for ice cream dates or Jungkook just taking you out for evening drives out of the city.

He’s on cloud nine right now—he’s got the girl of his dreams, his payout from the last match was pretty big, and everything’s going right for him. Sure you haven’t sat down to actually clarify what you two are but Jungkook knows you feel the same way about him. Maybe it isn’t such a bad thing with the way things are right now, the you’re mine and I’m yours is left unsaid but it’s there.

You’ve both been hard launching each other on your socials for the past few weeks anyways. By now people knew there was something up with you and him, given that Jungkook wasn’t exactly discreet when he posted on his stories with you in them. Jungkook knows you’ve been doing the same thing too so by now the media kinda labeled the relationship.

Will he say anything? Probably not. Does he care? Nope. He didn’t owe anyone an explanation, he just wanted to be able to date you in peace.

Sometime in the week though you send him a message asking him if he wants to come with you as your plus one to some award show taking place in Hong Kong. He says yes of course duh, why the hell would he say otherwise?

He posts a pic with you in the private plane before calling it quits and ignoring his mentions/comments for the rest of the day. Today’s your big day and while you’re not performing he wants to put his entire focus into being there for you.

“How do I look?” He hears you say as he’s getting ready.

You’re dressed to the nines styled in vintage Chanel and Jungkook had a suit tailored to match your aesthetic for the evening. He knows you both are gonna look so good tonight, no doubt you’ll blow anyone away with your unwavering beauty too. “You look amazing.” He says as he stands behind you.

Your eyes flick up in amusement, “That’s all?”

Jungkook lays his chin over your shoulder and grins softly, “Breathtaking, beautiful, ethereal, stunning—” You cut him off with an embarrassed laugh as you swat at his hands.

“Okay, okay, I get it.” You turn around and play with the buttons to his shirt, “You look really good too.”

“That’s all?” He grins back.

“Don’t push it, you make the compliments here.” You smirk and lay a sweet kiss over his lips, to which he happily and eagerly reciprocates.

He might have gotten a little carried away with it because he’s pushing you against the sink counter and kissing you stupid like he’s been doing these days. A soft muffled groan leaves him as he circles his hands over your hips and uses his grip to pull you into him until your lower pelvis is pressing against his own, dangerously close to his friend down there.

“Jungkook–” You sigh, “We’re gonna be late.” You say in-between his eager kisses.

“Don’t care, let me kiss you stupid.” Jungkook replies as he closes the distance between you two again, moving his lips passionately against yours.

You let out a sweet little moan as your fingers card through his hair, he doesn’t even care if you mess it up either. Looks are superficial and at the end of the day regardless of how people see him they’ll never know him or you and Jungkook’s okay with that.

Suddenly the sound of a knock interrupts the two of you and you pull away with a breathless sigh, “Yeah?” You call out.

“The car’s here and traffic’s looking pretty bad so it might be good if we leave right now. We got thirty minutes to get there since the red carpet’s already started.” Your manager says through the door.

You look at Jungkook with a soft smile as you lean up to smooch his lips, “We’ll meet you down there.”

No one expects you to come out hand in hand with Jungkook and he relishes in their shocked faces/reactions. He likes the thrill and can’t help but pull you closer by the waist with his arm tucked tightly around you. They yell and beg for pictures as you walk on by with him, ignoring their weird comments or stupid questions with no meaning.

“You wanna head inside baby?” He leans down to whisper in your ear after a few rounds of interviews and photos with the paps.

“Yeah I’m getting bored.” You hide your shoulder in his shoulder and follow as he guides you towards the venue with a hand splayed protectively over the small of your back.

He can tell you’re nervous about tonight with the way you sit with your hand tightly wrapped in his. You’re currently nominated for two major categories with one of them being album of the year. He’d be shitting himself too if he was going up against other talented singers. You’re gonna win though, you have to and if you don’t he’ll fight them to recount the votes.

“Easy baby,” he whispers low, “you got this okay?”

“I know but what if I lose?” You purse your lips, “I did really well this year so I’m hoping maybe that I do win.” Jungkook doesn’t like how sad and worried you look right now.

“If you don’t win I’ll buy the fucking thing.” Jungkook snorts, “No one had the highest record sales and streams like you did baby, you basically have this in the bag and everyone knows it.”

You huff out a laugh and look at him in disbelief, “Jungkook you can buy me all the things you want but you’re not buying me an award. Don’t be ludicrous.”

He shrugs carelessly, “I won’t if they just give it to you.” He says seriously as he leans over to kiss your cheek, “I believe in you no matter what.” You look at him with a precious smile and turn your attention back to the show.

Performance after performance passes until soon they’re announcing the winner for album of the year. You didn’t win the other category but Jungkook knows for sure you’ll win the next one. He can feel you nervously bouncing your knee and gripping his hand extra tight while the presenter takes their sweet time opening the envelope.

“And the award goes to,” pause, “y/n!” The crowd erupts into loud screams and cheers, hell Jungkook yells out as he looks at you with glee and helps you stand up.

“You won baby!” Jungkook hugs you tightly as he sways side to side, “So fuckin’ proud of you.”

You happily laugh and bury your face in his neck, “I was so scared, oh my god.” You accept his hand as he helps you step up on stage so you could get your award. He stands back filled with pride as he watches you stride with confidence towards the main stage, walking past all these other people he could care less about.

After the show Jungkook’s surprised you choose to go back to the hotel instead of the afterparty some other singer invites you guys to. He doesn’t protest because he’s been dying to get away from all these people all night (you reprimanded him for suggesting that you guys leave right after you get your win). He walks hand in hand with you, smug as fuck because his girl bagged album of the year, just like he knew you would.

“Smile,” Jungkook holds his phone up, the flash going off as he hears you complain about not being ready, “you look fine, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He snorts and shows you the picture he took.

You shoot him a pouty frown and take his phone, “Delete it I look bad,” you huff, “you better take a better one.”

“Whatever you say princess.” Jungkook takes a series of photos for your Instagram and his, you look so pretty in each one he takes, it’s disgusting how much he’s obsessing over them, “Damn you look sexy.”

“I always do, thank you very much.” You huff and sit back in your seat, enjoying the rest of the ride back.

Jungkook’s immediately on you when the two of you get to the hotel. He’s been wanting to pick up where you two left off earlier before your manager interrupted. If it was up to him you two wouldn’t have even gone to the damn show, he’s been dying to get you out of the dress the minute he saw you in it.

“Jungkook wait–mmph,” you’re cut off as he slips his lips over yours, his hands coming up to cup your face as he swallows your lips in a passionate-hungry kiss.

“Can’t,” Jungkook whispers, “been waiting all night baby.” He reaches behind you to push the door open, kicking it open all the way as he tugs you close and walks you backwards into the room.

“Moment I laid eyes on you I was gone, knew I had to have you.” Jungkook whispers as he leans down to bury his face in your shoulder and neck leaving a flurry of hot kisses all over, “Wanted to rip this shit off you.” He growls softly.

You whined in protest, body falling backwards when the back of your knees hit the lush bed, “Not my dress–”

“I’ll buy another—hundreds baby, don’t you know who your man is?” Jungkook smirks as he climbs over you, “Can I take it off you baby?” He knows he’s being a bit too eager right now, so naturally he wants to make sure you’re both on the same page.

“Yeah.” You softly breathe out, “I want you to take it off,” you trail off looking at him with those siren eyes, “make me yours.” You say as you let the strap of the dress slip off your shoulder invitingly.

Jungkook swallows hard, hands itching and trembling with excitement as he reaches up to pull the other strap, “You already are.” He muses.

“All the way,” you intertwine your hand with his with a precious little smile on your face, “want everyone to know who my man is.”

Fuck. Jungkook bites down on his lip and nods, “You want them to see my marks, want everyone to know who’s fucking you good?” He purrs and leans down to hover over you, lips against lips.

You nod with a cute ‘mmhm’, “I want it all, you promised you’d give it to me.” You softly pout, “Or was that a lie?”

“Fuck no, take it baby, ‘s all yours.” Jungkook hurriedly unbuttons his dress shirt, hastily throwing his belt off and peeling his slacks off, “Gonna give you exactly what you need till you can’t take it.” He says as he reaches for the zipper to the dress.

He all but rips the thing off of you and tosses it to the corner of the room (mind you it’s worth over twenty thousand). It’s the first time seeing you like this under him and he wants to make it special for you, a night you’ll never forget.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful baby.” He comments as he leans down to leave a trail of kisses along your chest and tummy,slowly slipping down the bed as he inches towards your panty covered pussy.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming of this, been thinking about all the ways I could have you,” he whispers and lays a kiss over your damp folds, “I didn’t know if I wanted to lay you on my bed or bend you over the car—you make it so hard to control myself, you have no idea.”

He sees the little tremor that passes over you when he says this. Your eyes are filled with want and need but like the stubborn little thing you are, you don’t say anything. Jungkook can’t have that either, he wants—no needs—to hear your sweet little voice beg for him.

“What’s the matter baby? You need something?” Jungkook softly croons as he peppers soft kisses against your inner thighs.

You bite on your lip and nod, “Need you.”

“But you already have me?” He grins, he can see the frustration bubbling up on your face.

“Here,” you softly breathe and reach down to tug your panties upwards, the material digs into your cunt giving him a perfect outline of it, “won’t you give it to me?” Your voice pulls him in like a siren singing to a sailor, he’s so entranced by it he almost feels like he’s gonna drool right now.

Jungkook wastes no time in yanking the damp materials down your thighs, not bothering to slide them completely off as he lifts your legs up. They’re pressed together with your soft pussy lips pressed together for him, tempting him with a glob of shiny slick running down your soft asscheeks.

“Fuck,” Jungkook growls as he leans in to smother his face with your cunt, tongue slipping through your drenched dewy folds to lap up the globs of slick.

You kick your feet in the air with a tiny whine, hips wiggling in an attempt to get him on your clit. He laps at you messily, circling the tip of his tongue over your throbbing bud that’s squished between your folds. The moan you let out sends shivers down his spine and he’s eager to hear more.

“So fucking good,” he pants, “jus’ like I imagined pretty baby.” He slurs out, pussy drunk already.

He can feel you reaching down to tug your panties all the way off but he can’t be bothered with stopping, not when your cunt’s gushing for him. Jungkook licks with vigor, swiping over and over against your tender clit. Your cunt opens up beautifully with a low squelch and your thighs begin trembling under his strong hold.

It gets harder with each passing second to contain himself, his cock feels like it’s literally about to burst. He pulls away from you and lets your shaky legs fall back as he tears your panties off completely.

“Gonna fuck you so good baby,” he climbs over you and reaches down to pull his heavy cock out, “can’t wait anymore.”

Your legs easily fall apart for him and make room as he shuffles closer between them. Jungkook sees the way your eyes go dark when they land below between his legs where his cock hangs heavy, swollen at the tip with beady trails of precum oozing from the head. You lick your lips and reach down to grip him in your soft hand, tentatively squeezing and stroking as if you were feeling him up.

“Like it baby? Gonna have my fat cock fill this little pussy up?” Jungkook has a sleazy grin splayed over his lips as he watches you, “Hm?”

“Yeah, ‘m not gonna let you cum anywhere but inside,” you deviously smile back like the nasty little minx you are, “till it’s dripping.”

He groans at the thought of that and kicks his hips forward, “Lemme in baby,” he slurs out, “slip it right in for me, there you go.” He purrs when he feels the head slide over your messy pussy, smearing your slick and his precum all over your cunt before you’re guiding him towards your winking sopping hole.

You bite down on your lip when the tip catches against your rim, it pops inside feeling you inch for inch slowly—cockhead spreading you open until he’s fully seated in your tight cunt. He can’t help but bite his lip with the way you’re squeezing him so tight—so snug and warm.

“So nice ‘n warm for me,” he hoarsely says as he rubs his hands along your sides, gently squeezing at your hips as he pulls you closer until your pelvis is smacked tight against his own.

You let out the most sinful fucking moan ever when his cock slides deeper. Back arching and toes curling—he just loves how beautiful you look spread out under him with your pretty pussy snug against his cock. You release a stuttered moan as you reach for his hands and squeeze tightly.

“Hurts a little,” you say through gritted teeth, “why the fuck are you so fucking big?”

Jungkook nearly laughs at that because he doesn’t think he’s ever heard that many curse words leave your mouth before. “You want me to pull out?”

“No don’t you dare,” you glare, “took me a minute to get this thing in and you want me to do it all over again?”

Jungkook looks back down with a low whistle, “Little pussy looks like it’s struggling to keep me all in baby, you sure you can handle it?” He teases as he reaches down to flick his thumb over your swollen clit.

Your hips jump and you whine out for him, “Stop playing around Jungkook,” you turn to hide your face in the soft sheets, “you know I can.” You mumble softly, eyes half-lidded with pleasure.

Jungkook bites down on his lip and rolls his hips slowly, “I know, you were made for this dick.” He smirks and lazily flicks his thumb pairing it with his slow but deep thrusts.

Your moans come out soft and breathy, everytime he backstrokes there’s a light sheen of slick covering his cock from the base near his pelvis. Your cunt makes these adorable little squelching noises as he pushes back in, balls lightly pressing against your taint when he buries himself back in. Occasionally he stops for a few seconds before he resumes his lazy pace.

He never imagined it’d feel this good with you, something about the way your little pussy refuses to let go for even a moment—squeezing him so tight it’s almost impossible to move. His own noises come out soft and husky, he can’t help the moans and soft sighs he lets out from the hot pleasure coiling in his stomach.

“Baby,” he gasps as he leans forward to hover over you with hands on either side of you, “this good?” He asks as he steadily increases the pace in his thrusts, hips smacking wetly against your ass and balls swinging now.

You nod eagerly, “More than good—mm, jus’ like that,” you sound blissed out, gaze half-lidded and dreamy as you stare up at him with those pretty eyes of yours.

“Like that?” He groans, “Or like this?” Suddenly Jungkook snaps his hips up, a loud smack filling the room alongside a warbled cry of his name, “Oh you like that, don’t you? Baby likes it rough?” He purrs.

The slide’s fucking nasty with a mix of precum and your slick, he feels it slide down your taint where his balls slap repeatedly. The noise is filthy and sends pleasant tremors down his spine, “Oh, fuck,” he groans softly, “doing so good for me.”

Jungkook begins moving earnestly now, slamming his cock in and out of your bruised and battered cunt. Slick spills everywhere—the sheets, your inner thighs, his pelvis—it’s like music to his fucking ears right now. He can’t resist and leans down to smother your lips with his, swallowing every little cry and moan you let out.

Your arms come up to wrap around his neck as you hold on tightly, he reaches down to wrap a leg around his waist as he manages to slide in deeper with the tip brushing over your g-spot. You let out a loud cry into his mouth and bury your fingers in his hair, your thigh starts trembling again only this time more intense than before.

“You gonna cum for me baby?” He pulls away with a moan, “C’mon, be a good girl and make it messy.” He purrs against your lips while watching your expressions closely.

You stare into his eyes with unshed tears as more whimpers and whines escape, “So close,” you manage to wrap another shaky leg around him, “please, please, ‘m so close.” You whine out as your legs cross behind him on his back.

Jungkook doesn’t wanna disappoint or hold out any longer as he manages to stick a hand down between you to roll your clit between his fingers, “Cum for me, give it to me baby.” He growls softly as he plows into your tender and sore cunt.

The squelching gets louder and your moans turn into weak whimpers as you lie there and take it. His cock stirs at the sight of you nearing your end, he decides to give you a little extra push as he meanly pinches your clit. This causes you to cry out and go stiff under him, body shaking like a leaf as you gush around his cock.

“Jungkook,” you gasp repeatedly as your eyes flutter shut, face pinched in pleasure and overstimulation, “so good.” You slur out.

Jungkook lets your tender clit go and focuses on his own pleasure now that he’s got your orgasm out of the way. He grunts quietly and buries his face against your soft tits, mouthing at your sore stiff nipples. You squeeze around him tighter and tighter until the coil in his stomach snaps and he lets out a long moan of your name.

“Fuck..” Jungkook whispers breathlessly as he presses your pelvises close together, burying his cock balls deep till every last drop’s inside your battered pussy.

You moan quietly and let your legs fall from his hips, limbs feeling like jelly as you lay there panting softly. Jungkook rests his forehead against your tit and sighs deeply, “Are you okay love?” He asks softly.

“Yeah, jus’ really tired.” You whisper hoarsely and close your eyes, “Fuck, no offense but I feel really gross right now. Start a bath for me, pretty please?” You softly ask with a lip jutted out in a pout.

Jungkook of course can’t say no, “Course,” he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead and lifts himself off of you, “I’ll be back.”

𓂃 ﾟ｡ ⋆

Your company’s the first to make a statement confirming what everybody already knew, and then Yoongi followed shortly after. If Jungkook had thought it was bad before, people went ape shit now that it’s been officially confirmed by you two.

Before, they put all the heat on Jungkook because it was easier to blame him for it given the public’s opinion about him. It was easier to blame him because why not? He was some low-life boxer in their eyes. But then the attention shifted and people started targeting their hate towards you which pissed Jungkook off to no end.

Why the fuck was everyone so invested in what you did and didn’t do? Why was it that they felt entitled to dictate who you date and don’t date? Jungkook really needed these people to get jobs or mind their business because clearly they had no life outside of hating on a stranger for finding their own happiness.

He saw those vicious comments people left all over your posts and he fucking hated that he couldn’t do shit to stop them from coming back, pissed him off even more because his girlfriend didn’t deserve this. You deserved the world and more, not this shit.

So, Jungkook did the next best thing he could think of. He started taking names and screenshotting profiles before turning them over to a attorney he hired, if he couldn’t beat these stupid fuckers himself he’d let them have it with his private team. He made headlines after people started noticing that he was suing the people opening their big ass mouths.

“Baby, it’s okay really.” You softly complain, “You don’t have to waste your time with these weird people, I’m sure they’ll get over themselves if we ignore them.”

Jungkook shakes his head, “No, I’m sorry baby but I can’t sit there and watch these fuckers call you degrading names and demand shit like they know you—seriously who the fuck do these people think they are?” He growls under his breath as he paces back and forth, “And that’s not even the gist of it, these idiots are lucky I don’t catch them out in public because I’ll beat the fuck out of them.”

Out of the corner of his eye he sees you curl up on the sofa with a sad smile, “I know, but you can’t go around beating up millions of people for leaving a hate comment. It’s normal, this happens all the time I learned to live with it.” You’re trying to sound sure of yourself but he doesn’t buy it.

“Baby look at me.” He comes over and kneels down in front of you, “This shit is not normal nor is it ever okay, fuck them for making you feel like this. I hate seeing you look so dejected reading all those hateful comments,” he takes your hands in his and kisses them, “just lemme take care of it. Please?”

You look conflicted like you’re not sure if you should say yes but with a little more coaxing you finally sigh, “Fineee, just don’t do anything crazy. I don’t need my boyfriend in jail, thank you very much.”

Jungkook cracks a smile and buries his face in your lap with a happy sigh, “I promise baby, if I go to jail, who else is gonna cook you fried rice at three in the morning? Who else is gonna give you their black card?” He teases.

“Yeah, yeah now come here.” You open your arms for him, “You know I only need you and that’s all.”

Jungkook kisses that soft pout off your face as he nods, “I know you do baby, didn’t think otherwise.” He grins and lays his head on your chest with closed eyes.

The two of you sit there in silence together with the TV playing low in the background. Jungkook for the most part behaves himself despite being so close to your soft tits that are poorly hidden under your camisole. He can literally dip his head in there and get a sneak peek, maybe even a mouthful of titties—

“Jungkook, really?” You sigh, “You’re such a pervert.”

“You like it,” Jungkook winks as he mouths at your tit through your little camisole, “can I?” He knows you can’t resist and judging by the way your thighs press together, “Pretty pleaseee baby?” He gives you the best puppy eyes he can muster, all a man wants is some titty loving, that’s all.

You don’t even finish saying yes before he’s diving in and tugging your camisole down so that your tits spill out and into his face. His eyes light up and he immediately wraps his lips around a nipple, suckling gently as he laves his tongue over the stiff bud in his mouth. You quietly sigh and sink into the sofa with him following as he rolls his tongue over your nipple and flicks it repeatedly.

“You’re such a baby you know that?” You murmur, “But you’re my handsome bun,” the nickname has him perking up, “my strong, big, handsome bun.” You coo softly while stroking his hair slowly.

Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut as he sinks into the warm feeling, his sucking slows down until he’s barely moving his tongue anymore and simply suckling on your teat. “You like hearing how strong you are don’t you baby—love knowing you can easily beat someone’s ass for me?”

He nods pathetically with a low groan, “Of course you do,” you softly coo, “it’s why I picked you, knew you’d be able to take care of me the way I deserve.” You scratch his scalp lightly, moaning softly when he makes another noise, “Treat me so good like the princess I am.”

That he does. Jungkook is in heaven right now, he feels like he can just pass out right here and now with a titty in his mouth. He can’t help but shudder as he slips into a dream-like state, “Go ahead baby, just rest yeah? I got you.” You softly say while cradling his head and going lax under him, “Take what you need.”

And he does. He ends up falling asleep, one of the best fucking naps ever with your tit still in his mouth even when he wakes up. He so needs to do this another time, shit’s relaxing and a good stress reliever. Jungkook doesn’t think you’ll have any complaints either.

.

It’s a busy week for Jungkook because he has a match coming up in a few weeks and Yoongi has him completely locking in at the gym for training. You don’t mind it and being the best girlfriend you are you come as support during his sessions. You also confirmed his suspicions that Seokjin was a secret stan because his hyung fanboys out when he meets you.

“Hyung stop it.” Jungkook glares, “Leave her alone before I punch you.”

Seokjin scoffs, “No way, I get to meet my idol and you wanna ruin it for me? Where’s my respect, you brat.” This guy—needless to say Jungkook’s shooting daggers at his hyung the entire time he’s there.

The real challenge comes during the press conference/weigh-in Jungkook goes to like he always does. It starts off normal, the guy doesn’t trash talk and Jungkook’s not one for it either unless the fighter’s cocky then yeah he’ll put them in their place but this guy’s alright which he appreciates. It’s the fucking reporters that get Jungkook heated sometimes.

“Jeon, how do you feel about this upcoming match? Any thoughts on your opponent?” One asks with his recorder held out.

“I’m excited like always, I know potential when I see it so I’m hoping to have a great match with my opponent. He looks like he can give me a run for my money.” He laughs softly into the mic.

Another reporter asks something but it’s directed at his opponent so Jungkook just nods off listening to the two. Out of the corner of his eye he sees someone laughing when he looks at him, and at first he doesn’t pay attention and just keeps his focus on the reporters. But then this guy comes to the front and Jungkook just knows he’s about to hear the stupidest shit in his life.

“Jeon, so how are you and your girl doing? Heard the news and wanted to congratulate you.” He says with this sleazy grin.

It rubs him the wrong way but Jungkook keeps his temper in check as he forces himself to politely answer, “Good, thank you.” He curtly replies.

He hears Yoongi clear his throat next to him with a fierce glare, “Let’s try and keep this about the match, he's not here to answer questions about his life, this isn’t a personal interview.”

You’d think that after being called out like that he’d stop there and move on but no, this guy’s a piece of work. “I mean I was just askin’ cause I was kinda surprised with the news since you know, she been ran through by the entire industry.” This gets Jungkook to react as he pushes his chair back, causing it to fly backwards as he slowly stalks forward.

“New guy every month—say, you the new boy of the month Jeon?” He smirks.

Jungkook doesn’t even think before he lunges at him, he hears Yoongi call his name as Namjoon springs into action to get Jungkook back but it’s too late.

Jungkook’s fist connects with the side of this man’s jaw and sends him flying to the ground as Jungkook lifts his (now) bloody fist up to strike him again with a sick sound. He’s so far gone right now he doesn’t even feel when Namjoon yanks him off the guy.

“Jungkook! Calm the fuck down and get off him!” Namjoon yells through the chaos as reporters scramble to get shots and videos of this.

“No, get off me hyung! Let me fuckin’ go where is this little shit? If you’re such a fuckin’ man come say it to my face one more fucking time, I dare you! Say it!” He yells as he struggles against Namjoon’s strong hold.

It takes three guys to get Jungkook away from the reporter, Yoongi deals with the rest but Jungkook’s so fucking mad he can’t even sit right now. He’s pacing back and forth in the little backroom they got him in as Namjoon watches with concern in his eyes. He hasn’t tried to calm him down because even he knows the danger of trying to talk to him while he’s this mad.

The door slams open and Yoongi steps in, “Jungkook what the fuck was that?! That guy went to the hospital, do you even realize the mess you caused? He’s gonna press charges–”

“I don’t give a fuck!” Jungkook interrupts, stunning Yoongi into silence, “He fucking disrespected my girlfriend thinking that shit was funny. I could really give two fucks if he wants to press charges or not!” Namjoon watches the two in silence, but he’s ready to jump in if Jungkook turns on Yoongi or something.

Yoongi, who usually has something smart to say for everything, for once doesn’t have shit to say. He just stands there watching Jungkook kick the chair over and pace around the room furiously. “Kid, look, I get you. I would do the same too if I was in your place but this shit isn’t worth it. You can’t be letting them get to you like this, that’s what they want.”

“Well he fucking got what he wanted.” Jungkook scoffs with a humorless laugh.

“Just go home, I’ll deal with the press.” Yoongi sighs as he rubs his temples, “Please, for once just do what I say.”

The news is bad, there’s a shit ton of articles coming out within the next hour about how Jungkook attacked the reporter and left him a bloody puddle on the ground. It’s all over the place and there’s a shit ton of people commenting about it on online forums and comment sections. One side praises him for defending you, and then the other criticizes his inability to keep himself under control but Jungkook doesn’t care.

The REAL cherry on top is when you post your response to the news—you use that video of Latto saying “thank you to my man” along with a cute selfie of you cuddled up in bed with Jungkook. Even you made it clear as day you didn’t give a fuck about that guy either.

Your fans who had previously had negative reactions to your dating news were coming around too in favor of Jungkook. They said shit like “free JK he did nothing wrong” and voiced their support for him. Some were even harassing the reporter who had dared to say those things about you, demanding that he lose credibility as a reporter amongst other things.

Jungkook thinks it’s going to be okay because that guy totally fucking deserved it (and more).

.

The weeks fly by and the day of his big match comes—the biggest one yet because bets are high and on top of that Jungkook has a winning streak to keep up if he wants them to give him the title of “undefeated”. Following the conference nothing really happened, the guy turned out to have some shady shit on him so he decided not to press any charges in the end. God bless Yoongi for digging shit up.

With that being dealt with Jungkook could finally put his entire focus on the match. He had heard the entire arena sold out and some of the richest people on earth were attending. This was a huge deal and he had everything to lose. Jungkook was confident in his win but this guy was also the deal too, which only means Jungkook has to keep his guard up.

“You ready kid? This is about to be the biggest fight of your career.” Yoongi says as he comes to sit in front of Jungkook, “You’re gonna have to kick it up a notch this match, the guy’s good but he isn’t better than you.”

He nods at that because Jungkook’s confident in his fighting abilities, “I know hyung, I have a really good feeling about tonight.” He smiles, “Don’t worry about it, I got this under control.”

“Good, that’s what I like to hear from you.” Yoongi grins back as he pats his back, “Now get out there and make me proud.”

The arena buzzes with life when Jungkook enters the room, he’s hit with flashing lights in every direction as people scream and chant his name. He’s getting worked up again as the adrenaline slowly kicks in. Jungkook makes his way up to the ring, passing over your section where you’re sitting with Namjoon and Seokjin.

He closes his eyes for a brief moment, blocking out the crowd and music as he tries to focus. He can do this, he can do this. He will win, for you.

The guy packs a good punch and each round gets progressively harder and harder to fight him off. During one of the breaks in-between the rounds, he slumps into his corner as Yoongi immediately springs over to help him with his mouth guard.

“He’s tiring you out Kook, he’s gonna wait until you’re low on energy to give it his all.” Yoongi warns, “You need to match his pace instead of wasting your energy so early.”

Jungkook pants tiredly as he shakes his head, “Hyung he’s gonna knock me out.” He says deliriously, filled with pain and adrenaline.

“No he isn’t, because you’re not going to let him, you hear me? You’re going to get back out there and show that punk what you’re made of.” Yoongi sternly replies, “Do it for the pretty girl waiting for your win.”

Jungkook’s eyes snap over to where you sit, you look really scared and on top of that worried. He sees the way your knee bounces and how you pick at your fingernails. This isn’t what he wants to see.. This isn’t what he wants at all.

“Okay.” Jungkook grunts with renewed energy, “Fuck, okay.”

Yoongi pats his back gently and steps away from the ring, “Remember: match his pace.”

Jungkook rises to his feet and gets ready for the next round. He only has a few more before a winner has to be announced or the match is tied. Only one of them will walk out a champion, and it’s going to be him.

He takes Yoongi’s advice and matches this guy’s pace, he observes his every move and studies the combos he throws out. The guy’s a corner tech type so Jungkook avoids the edges and keeps him in the middle. He also notices that he goes for uppercuts and rear hooks.

As Jungkook prepares to strike he loses his footing and the guy takes the chance to hook him across the face. It sends Jungkook to the ground as he falls with a groan of pain. “Fuck.” He whispers.

He’s not sure how much longer he can keep up, can he even get up? His vision is beginning to blur a little and his hearing’s a little hazy too. He barely even makes out the referee counting down to a knockout.

Through the blurriness he sees Yoongi run over to the side of the net, “Get up, kid! Fuck, c’mon Jungkook get up!” He desperately says.

Jungkook wants to, but everything hurts so much and he’s so tired right now. He weakly tries to get up, barely managing to hold up on all fours as he pants heavily with blood dripping down onto the mat below. He lifts his head up slowly and suddenly the world stops.

You’re standing there with tears in your eyes, your mouth’s moving rapidly (most likely pleading with him to get up). Jungkook doesn’t like that, he swore he’d never let you feel that way again after you attended his first match and saw how bad it was. Fuck.

“Four…three..”

Get up. Get up. Get up. Get up.

Jungkook grits his teeth and stumbles forward, barely managing to catch himself on the nets as he looks back at his opponent with renewed strength. The countdown stops and the match continues, he is going to win this if that’s the last thing he does.

He lunges forward and the guy doesn’t expect it coming as Jungkook manages to get him cornered before he lets loose. He rains a slew of punches, too fast for the guy to keep up who doesn’t expect him to suddenly be this fast.

Jungkook feels like he blacks out during all this, landing hit after hit until he’s finished with one last uppercut and then everything stops. He feels a pair of hands pull him back as the referee begins the countdown. Jungkook stands there heaving as he watches tiredly.

“..Two..one..” The bell suddenly rings and the crowd cheers.

He did it. Holy shit, he did it!

Both Yoongi and Namjoon rush into the ring together, bringing him into their arms as they jump with joy. “You fucking did it!” Namjoon smiles happily.

“Where’s…where’s y/n?” Jungkook blearily asks as he looks around.

“She’s right there,” Yoongi points out, “she’s still here Kook.”

He pulls away from the hug and trudges over to the net, holding it up and holding his arm out for you, “C’mere baby.” He calls out.

You immediately stumble over and climb into the ring with him, sinking right into his arms when he tugs you close. “I’m here,” he whispers, “I’m here.”

“Don’t ever scare me like that again! You hear me? I don’t ever wanna see you like that.” You whimper and cup his face, “Oh Jungkook..”

He smiles softly and leans down to kiss you passionately in front of everyone. You easily melt into the kiss and wrap your arms around his neck. When he pulls back he looks around with a stupid grin on his face, “Fucking won but everything hurts.”

You frown cutely and ignore the reporters that begin to swarm the two of you. Jungkook keeps you tucked into his side as he answers their questions, “Feels really good I can’t lie, even if I feel like shit right now though. But I’m just glad I won, I've been wanting to dedicate this win to my beautiful girl.” He smiles down at you and kisses the top of your head.

They start throwing more questions at him after that. They’re all kind of the same regarding their relationship because they’re just dying to know all about his relationship to you. They even try to ask you some questions but luckily Yoongi intervenes when it begins to get out of control.

“Alright back up, give Jungkook some space.” Yoongi says as he pushes some reporters away, “You ready to go Kook?”

“Yeah, get me the fuck outta here.” Jungkook groans as he follows after his hyungs with you close by.

Yoongi and the others help Jungkook get into an ice bath as soon as they get into the back room. You work on cleaning the blood off his face and icing his wounds, “Does it hurt? Well, more than usual?” You softly ask.

“No babe I’m fine.” Jungkook replied calmly as he closed his eyes, “The ice feels really good, I’m sore all over.”

You hum, “Let me know if I’m hurting you.”

“I will.” He hums back and sinks into the ice with a relaxed sigh.

The cold sensation on his body is working wonders on his sore muscles. It feels like he’s living the dream right now. He doesn’t think he wants to even party after this, sure a big win calls for a celebratory dinner or something but right now cuddling and going to sleep sounds way better.

Yeah, way better.

.

“I thought you were too sore to do anything, what happened to that?” You laugh softly while looking down at him.

Jungkook’s pout deepens, “I can still move my hips, see?” He says and demonstrates with a little thrust up, “Pleaseeee! For me baby? I promise I’ll tell you if it hurts or something.”

You look at him in disbelief, “You literally just got beat up what do you mean please? Look at you! Why the heck is sex even on your mind right now?”

“Because, you looked so sexy on that billboard on our way back here.” He huffs casually leaving out the part where he raged because everyone can see you and no doubt millions have.

Not that he’s petty but he’s petty, he wanted to tear that shit down and keep it for himself. “That’s not the point,” he groans and tosses his head back on the pillow, “I can still move and it’s not like my cock got beat up too.”

“You are so nasty.” You laugh softly and sit back on his lap, “If I ride you will that make you happy, hm?”

It’s comical the way his hair bounces when he nods vigorously, “Yes.” He says without hesitation, “It’s like a reward.” He grins toothily.

You roll your eyes at him with a sigh, “You’re so spoiled,” you mumble while reaching down to help him pull his boxers down.

“Wait!” Jungkook looks up at you with pouty eyes, “Can you..?” He tugs at the loose shirt you’re wearing.

Immediately you know what he wants and you nod, “My baby deserves it doesn’t he?” You softly say while tossing the garment somewhere else, “Did so good out there,” you purr and lean over him.

His eyes sparkle as he nods, “I did,” he whispers and licks his lips, “means I get a reward right?”

“Yes you do.” You gently coax him closer as you lean down to press your soft tit to his lips, “Take it, ‘s all yours.” He latches on without wasting another second.

Your lips part as a soft breathy moan escapes, your soft hand reaches down to fish his hard cock out of his boxers. He shudders when you start stroking him, it’s slow and sensual as you gather bits of precum with your thumb and slowly work your way down around the shaft.

His balls sit heavy and they ache with need to empty themselves in you. Jungkook has to fight the urge to buck his hips as he accidentally grazes his teeth against your bud.

You yelp softly and he pulls away apologetically, “Easy, not so hard.” You softly chastise.

“Sorry.” Jungkook murmurs and presses a kiss on your tit before moving to the opposite one.

“Just sit back and relax baby,” you murmur, “I got you.”

You position the head at your weeping pussy, slapping it repeatedly in small taps until the tip catches on your hole. Jungkook holds his breath as you begin to slide down on his sensitive cock until you're bottoming out with your ass meeting his thighs.

“Good?” You softly whisper.

Jungkook nods and goes back to suckling on your nipple in peace. You rock yourself in his lap steadily like you’re scared you’re gonna hurt him but Jungkook encourages you with a little buck. This makes you sink down in his lap with a lewd moan, his cock shifting deeper inside.

“Use me,” Jungkook quietly pipes up, “I can take it.” His breath hot and heavy over your pebbled nipple.

“You sure? What if I hurt you?” You murmur.

“I’ll be fine baby, I’ll let you know if something hurts. Please?” He opens his mouth to take your nipple back in.

You shiver and bite your lip still a bit worried but you end up giving in. You slowly pick up the pace, switching from grinding to bouncing. There’s a low smack here and there but it’s nothing too crazy because you’re going as gentle as you can.

Jungkook’s lips tighten around your nipple with every grind and bounce. Your pussy tugs at his cock with the right amount of pressure sending shivers down his spine. He moans softly and moves one hand up to grip your bouncing tit.

“Fuck you look good like this,” he breathes out in pleasure.

You groan softly as he squeezes your tit in his strong hand, massaging the soft mound of flesh afterwards. He pulls away to push both tits together and buries his face between them with a happy sigh, “Never wanna leave, I could die a happy man like this sweetheart.”

“You’re just a perv.” You chuckle with a moan.

“For you.” Jungkook grins and then lays back, “Don’t tell me you’re getting tired already.” He notices that your bouncing has slowed down.

You glare cutely at him and sit up, “I don’t like doing the work in case you haven’t noticed.” You mumble while grinding back and forth over his cock, “You’re lucky I love you enough to do this.”

His eyes widen when he hears the words “love” and “you” in one sentence. It makes his sappy little heart beat with joy and pride hearing those words leave your lips, he can’t help but buck his hips upward eagerly.

“Jungkook..!” You gasp throwing your head back.

“Say it again baby,” he huffs as he uses his strong grip to haul you up and plop you back down on his lap, “I wanna hear it–” He cuts off with a breathy moan.

“I love you.” The words make him groan louder as he slaps his hips upward.

“Fuck I love you too,” he moans, “so, so fuckin’ much, you have no idea.” He whispers and looks up at you through hooded eyes.

You bite your lip hard and throw your head back with a whine, “ ‘m coming.” You whimper.

“Oh you like hearing that don’t you, knowing damn well that you got me wrapped around your fingers.” Jungkook huffs with exertion as he fucks into you harder.

“Y-Yes, love it so much knowing you’re mine,” you mewl softly and grind on him, “fuck, fuck..!” Your pussy clamps down and suddenly you’re coming all over him in slow waves of harsh pleasure.

Jungkook pulls you down for a passionate kiss as he holds you down against his pelvis. A few more rolls has him coming too, cock throbbing and twitching. He lays there panting heavily with hazy eyes while you whine about him being careful.

“Don’t put pressure on your side,” you grumble, “I told you we shouldn’t have fooled around.”

“I’m fine, see? Nothing’s wrong.” Jungkook laughs and delivers a sharp smack to your ass, “Now tell me you love me again. Wanna hear it from your pretty lips.” He mumbles and traces over your bottom lip.

“I love you.” You fondly sigh.

“Again.”

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“You’re so annoying! I’m going to shower.” You huff and stomp off with cum leaking down your inner thighs.

Jungkook lays there with a soft grin as he watches you go, “Yeah, yeah, I love you too though.” Forever.

And ever.

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan @lilyflowerguk @sayokodiary @babycandy111 @looneybleus @ash07128 @gyukookswhore @rrosiitas

[askshivanulegacy]

The question I have is why is everyone trying to manufacture scenarios to prioritize one person over another?

Since when do you need to rank the important people you know in life? When exactly is this mythical priority ranking supposed to kick in? To what effect? The people who are important to you are important to you. There isn't a scenario where I ever need to prioritize one person over another unless it's just a bad pile of unlucky circumstances, and then I'm going to look at who needs support from me that can't get it elsewhere and that's just facts and reality.

I have a good friend who got married (oh no!) and I wasn't even the maid of honor, but she changed up her entire wedding scheme to fit the outfit that suited ME. Even before she was married, I ended up hanging out with her and her boyfriend, and now usually when we do stuff it's the three of us hanging out, as friends. It was never "my friend is leaving me," it was always "my friend is officially beginning a new adventure in her life and I get to be a part of it and I'm so happy for her and the friendship goes on!"

Go make friends with your best friend's SO for Pete's sake. You can't fault them for wanting a certain person in their lives, but it's not like they're expecting or wanting the friendship with YOU to change. There's room to do things just the two of you still, but also with the SO too. Why are people writing off another potential friend?? It's hard enough to find good friends already, and there's one waiting right there, practically gift-wrapped. XD

I know three married couples now, which all stemmed from single good friendships. And I like their partners a lot, and I like inviting their partners to things too! I look forward to seeing both of them! The partners don't actually detract from the original friendships! Crazy!!

Each of the above posts assumes that the priority will be the romantic, or that it can instead be the platonic relationship, and they both miss the elephant in the room.

It can be both, it should be both, there is all the room in the world for both.

Why is everyone assuming there's a choice to make? The "priority" is a LIE.

If your totally platonic best friend is getting a girlfriend or getting married or making significant relationship steps in their life, you need to find it in your heart to be happy for them. If that's hard for you because you're feeling lonely and worried about being sidelined then 1) work on it, and 2) do fun stuff with your friend. It's okay to have the feelings, but it's not okay to be selfish about it. Your friend isn't going to leave you behind unless they're an ass, and then they weren't really your friend. It sucks to be sharing some great development in your life with someone you care about, and wanting that person to share in your joy and be happy for you, and then to have that person whine and cry and make it about them because it's not about them.

Don't be that person.

Saw a reddit post today about a girl who was upset that her childhood best friend replaced a photo of the two of them in his wallet with one of him and his girlfriend. And while yeah, she was being unreasonable with a lot of what she was saying, I totally understand the sadness of a friend "replacing" you with someone they have romantic feelings for. Makes it worse when the top comment is this

Every single comment on this post is about how family and romantic relationships always take precedence over friendships. I don't have anything more to say to this aside from the fact that... this is why it's hard for aroaces to imagine futures for themselves. Society drills it into your head that you're going to live in a world where you are no one's priority if you don't have romantic relationships and it fucking sucks

[caelivir]

“are ya sure yer not dating (y/n)?” osamu suddenly asks his brother during a quiet lunch between the two of them.

atsumu chokes on the grains of rice in his mouth, coughing violently and punching his chest. when he finally settles down, he throws a glare at his brother. “what the hell, ‘samu?”

“that’s not an answer.” osamu continues to press.

“we’re not!” atsumu answers, picking up a piece of chicken katsu with his chopsticks. “i don’t like them like that. they don’t like me like that. we’re just friends.”

the bright red-pink of his ears speak otherwise. you see, osamu knows his twin better than he knows himself. he knows that whatever comes out of atsumu’s mouth is a load of crap. just friends? yeah fucking right.

osamu has never seen his brother look at anyone the way he looks at you, starlight and pure adoration swirling in his irises. he acts as if your every word were an earth-shaking prophecy sent by the heavens. his honey brown eyes stare, and he smiles so gently that it makes him sick.

friends aren’t touchy in the way you guys are. you hold each other’s hand like it’s nothing. with interlocked fingers, atsumu will trace his thumb down the back of your hand for no apparent reason. when you’re bored, you’ll take atsumu’s hand into your lap and play with it, bending his fingers, comparing hand sizes, and running a featherlight touch across the expanse of his palm to see if he’ll react.

osamu notices how you never miss the opportunity to find a seat on his brother’s lap. whether there are no seats of available or ten open ones, you will always choose atsumu. and it’s not like he’s complaining about it. in fact, osamu thinks that he waits for it because atsumu would never want to miss the chance to secure his arms around your waist and whisper into your ear amidst a loud conversation.

and you can’t forget the cuddles, and the hugs that linger longer than they should, and the way you’ll cup atsumu’s face, and the way you play with his piss blond hair.

you’re the one person atsumu lets wear his jersey to his game. he ensures you get the best seat to watch him play. osamu doesn’t miss the way his twin looks at you before every serve or the way you cheer the loudest when he scores an ace.

osamu doesn’t think that someone who “doesn’t like you” would be thinking about you every time they shop. “(y/n) likes this snack”. “(y/n) would love this shirt”. “oh hey, (y/n) showed me this”. “‘samu, should i buy this for (y/n)?”.

osamu has never seen two people so madly in love before. he doesn’t know how you guys haven’t realized it yet. and he can’t keep playing along because atsumu’s katsu looks really good right now.

“right…” osamu chooses to answer, dipping his chicken into the tonkatsu sauce. “i sure hope they’re gonna have fun on that date they have today.”

his brother’s chopsticks clatter onto the table before rolling onto the floor. the sight of atsumu’s open mouth filled with rice is unsightly, and osamu has to suppress his laugh.

“they didn’t tell you?” osamu raises an eyebrow.

“no?!” atsumu suddenly stands, slamming his palms into the table.

“yeah, i think they’re gonna leave soon.” osamu lies easily. there is no date. but of course, does ‘tsumu really need to know that?

the blond twin practically bolts away from the dining table and out of the house. when the door slams shut, osamu grins to himself, reaching for the unfinished plate in front of him.

“he can thank me later.”

atsumu brainrot never ends. something short and sweet bc school is kicking my ass.

[criminalamnesia]

the 141 x reader fic that you did was so yummy!!! pls make them suffer the wrath of reader and make 141 realise how much they need them when they leave,

your work is so amazing btw and your way with words is simply ✨chef’s kiss✨ (((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))♡

thank you!! here’s part 3 :)

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

angry didn’t even begin to describe how you felt as you slammed the door to price’s office behind you.

you were tense, muscles taut and poised to fight. your fists clenched at your sides, blunt nails digging into your palms hard enough to hurt. your jaw was clenched, teeth grinding together as you resisted the urge to march back in there and unleash your fury.

no. not like this. not when you weren’t a hundred percent. not when they would still look at you like you were a wounded doe, stumbling around on broken legs.

in the back of your mind, you can hear that psychologist saying ‘this anger will eat you alive if you let it. you need to let it out somehow.’

you inhaled, unclenched your fists, and made up your mind. you pulled the iv from your arm, wincing at the pinch of the needle.

you left the iv pole standing there as you made your way to the gym.

the gym was empty when you arrived, which made sense for this time of day. many would be occupied by drills or in the mess hall. others would be sleeping off long nights. you had the place to yourself, and you were grateful for the absence of watchful eyes and sweetened tongues.

you were tired of those who knew nothing acting like they knew something. of those who apologized or asked if you were okay. word spread like wildfire around base, and the subject of your ‘betrayal’ had been front-page news since the start of the witch hunt.

the gym door clicked shut behind you, and you surveyed the room. you knew your doctor would have a fit once you returned to the infirmary, and that she probably wouldn’t let you out alone again, but you didn’t really care.

you needed to let off some steam, and the best way you knew how was with your fists. either you start swinging at a bag or at a certain someone’s face. the bag won’t be condescending, and that makes your choice easy.

you approach one of the bright red punching bags in the corner. it’s scratched and taped from where someone had busted it open. scars that didn’t go away, that wouldn’t— just like yours.

you huffed. it didn’t do any good to start feeling sorry for yourself. you hadn’t done anything wrong. your team had.

you stretch your arms out in front of you, fingers interlocking to pop your knuckles. you catch sight of your severed finger, still healing. they’d recovered what had been chopped off, but hadn’t been able to save it.

just another permanent reminder, something to make sure you didn’t dare forget. you didn’t think you ever would regardless.

you shook out your hands and rolled your shoulders back. fists raised, you angled yourself towards the bag. feet spread, shoulders squared, thumb tucked under your fingers instead of inside. a stance that was second nature after years of sparring and hand-to-hand drills.

the bag was firm when your fist connected with it. you would have been lying if you said it didn’t hurt. you punched with the other hand— same results. the time you’d spent confined to an infirmary bed had done a number on you. muscles had atrophied, bones had weakened. the leg you’d suffered a bone-deep cut to shook under your weight.

you didn’t care. you kept punching, your breathing picking up as your emotions guided you. sweat dripped into your eyes and rolled down your back. you felt weak, physically and mentally. you hated feeling this way, and so you punched harder.

“slow down,” a voice grumbled from behind you.

you ignored him, continuing to punch the bag. you hadn’t heard the door open, nor heard the sound of him approaching, but you would have been surprised if you did.

simon always had a penchant for sneaking up on people, intentionally or not.

“gonna pass out if y’don’t stop,” he said after a minute. you could feel his eyes on you. you ignored him again.

you didn’t need to turn around to know he was standing there with his arms crossed, eyes full of something unreadable.

“stop,” he says firmly, and you sense his movement as he surges forward. his hand lands heavily on your shoulder, pulling you back from the punching bag. you heave in a breath before spinning around and punching him in the nose.

simon stumbles back a step, eyes widened slightly. for someone who prided himself on being so observant, he clearly didn’t see that coming. it made you feel the tiniest bit smug that you’d caught him off guard for once.

you dropped your hands to your knees then, squeezing your eyes shut as a wave of nausea washed over you. damn the bastard, he had been right. you shouldn’t have even been in here in the first place, let alone exerted yourself as much as you had.

your hands were shaking as you tried to pull yourself together. you opened your eyes to see drops of blood on the gym floor, by your feet. you had split your knuckles open.

there were also drops of blood at simon’s feet. you looked up then, slowly straightening your posture. he’d removed his mask, his face bare as he stared at you. blood dripped from his nose.

“gonna have to hit harder than that if y’want to break it,” he says, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“did you follow me in here?”

“no.” he says, and you’re giving a mirthless laugh.

“oh, please. im sure price sent you, yeah? you’ve always been his little lap dog. he says ‘jump’ and you say ‘how high,’ isn’t that right, lieutenant?”

your tone is tense, angry. you throw his title in his face, seeing as he’d been so quick to remind you of yours back in price’s office.

simon watches you, and you want to tackle him. he had always been quiet, always stoic. you’d been with him for years, but you still didn’t think you’d broken down all of his walls.

he was so good at masking his thoughts, his feelings. you weren’t. soap had always called you an open book. whenever you were mad or upset, everyone knew it.

no one knew anything about simon unless he wanted them to. it drove you mad then, and it was sure as hell driving you mad now.

“you need to get back to the infirmary,” he tells you. he wipes the back of his hand under his nose, smearing red across his skin. for a moment, you want to chastise him, reach up and wipe the remnants from his face.

you quickly shake that thought from your head. what is it they say— old habits die hard?

these habits would die if you had to strangle each one with your bare hands. anything you harbored for the four men on your team, for the one you’d called yours, was dead and gone.

“fuck off,” you tell him.

“why are you so damn stubborn?” he says then, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him start to crack since everything had happened. emotions are beginning to leak through his stony exterior, whether he means them to or not.

“you don’t get to tell me what to do anymore. none of you do,” you say, and you take a step forward then, eyes blazing as you stare up at him. “not after what you did.”

he doesn’t speak for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. his eyes never leave yours.

“it shouldn’t have happened like that.” he tells you. you scoff.

“like that? you mean the four of you torturing me? tying me up and mutilating me like I was just another fucking target?” your voice was rising as you took another step forward, shoving a finger into his chest.

“if I’d treated you like another target,” he said, tone even. “you would’ve been dead.”

“so you showed me mercy, is that it?” you bared your teeth, a hollow laugh escaping your throat. “oh, thank you simon. I really felt that fucking mercy when you cut off my finger, and when you cut through layers of skin to get to bone.”

you inhaled before continuing. “I should be grateful then, right? is that what you want from me? for me to recognize your fucking ‘mercy’ and take you back? take you all back?”

he just stands there. you can see his jaw clench, but he makes no move to speak. you find it funny that he hasn’t even tried to apologize. john, your ever prideful captain, had swallowed his failure and pleaded for your forgiveness.

johnny and kyle would surely have done the same if they’d had the chance to speak to you, even if they only had a minute.

but simon? simon doesn’t. he doesn’t outwardly admit his wrongs. he doesn’t apologize. doesn’t seem sorry, even. you don’t know what’s going on inside his head, but you find yourself not really caring to know.

the fact that he can’t bring himself to admit, in blunt words, that he had astronomically fucked up and that he felt even the slightest bit of remorse, told you everything you needed to know.

cold, stoic ghost. you hadn’t been afraid of him when you’d first joined the squad, and you weren’t afraid of him now.

but back then, you’d wanted to break down those stone walls of his. you’d wanted to be someone he felt safe around, someone who knew him inside and out.

now, you’re packing your time with him into a box in your mind and dumping it into the trash. simon riley means nothing to you now.

“take your mercy and shove it up your ass,” you tell him. you step back and drop your hand, your eyes still locked on his.

“and by the way,” you say as you start towards the door. he doesn’t turn around, doesn’t move an inch. it’s as if he’s rooted to the spot.

“you should’ve just killed me.”

author’s note:

not really sure how I feel about this one tbh. I have plans for a part four, but I’m not quite sure how long I’ll be making this series.

and as for simon— I want to write an extra part about his thoughts/feelings about everything. let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in!

anyways, let me know your thoughts please :) (I honestly may end up deleting this and rewriting it when I’m not tired lol)

taglist: @preeyansha @igotmajordaddyissues @nanatheoaktree @aesthetic0cherryblossom @oceanicexolorer @soph121212 @liv2post @cupid-eclipse @angels-despair18 @k4marina