#driven by shit hand after shit hand to do these drastic and awful things is INTERESTING !!

[eebie]

people who act like liking.or dare i say sympathizing with spot as a character is a moral failing

[lunatic-fandom-space]

Comparing RWBY and YGO DM: The Handling and Evolution of Themes

Hey! Its been a hot minute since I last posted anything RWBY-related but Im laying in my bed right now and Im sick and bored so I guess we're doing this. Today I will do my best to analyze what I percieve to be the main themes and messages of both of these shows, or more specifically, how theyre handled narratively. Im mostly focusing on that part because, while these series do have similar themes and messaging, they are still a few things in which they are wildly different. And with that, lets start with this essay-post-thing!

1. Theres something we need to adress first

Okay so, before we can really talk about this, theres something I feel the need to clarify here: Neither of these stories was "planned from the beginning".

Now, I dont think a story being planned from the beginning or not nesscessarily makes the story any better or worse by default, however, it is still important to acknowledge because the way the story is planned is going to affect every facet of it. Things are not going to be foreshadowed properly, things are gonna be set up only for nothing to come of it, the story might drastically change directions, characters might act differently, etc, etc.

And, this is bit off-topic but, it's much better to just admit that the story was not planned than trying to pretend that it was. Like, there are a lot of reasons why I tend to be so forgiving towards YGO even though its not very good, but one of them is definitely the fact that, as far as Im aware atleast, the guy who wrote it isnt pretending to have had this big master plan all along and neither is the fandom. With RWBY on the other hand... yeaaaah, its kinda the opposite. From what Ive seen of RWBYs fandom, there seems to be this pretty popular narrative that everything was planned even though it clearly wasnt. Thats pretty bad and honestly lowers my opinion of the writers so much more than if they would just admit to not having a proper plan.

Like, I initially consumed YGO like this: Yu-Gi-Oh Duel Monsters, Yu-Gi-Oh (aka Season 0), like, a quarter of the Yu-Gi-Oh manga (I still havent finished it)

In all three of these we have the character of Yami Yuugi, or just Yami. Broadly speaking, he is an ancient egyptian gamer spirit who lives in a magical puzzle that has not been solved for 3000 years until this highschooler named Yuugi Mutou comes along and solves it, thus setting him free and allowing him to possess Yuugi and have access to the vague magical powers of the puzzle.

In Duel Monsters he's perfectly fine most of time, morally speaking. There is an instance of him almost murdering a guy and its a bit unclear what exactly happens to those he mindcrushes but overall he's very much a pretty good guy. In Season 0 most of what he does is set up these games for bad people, where they will go insane no matter what they do. From how I understand this whole Shadow Game, Penalty Game stuff, if you lose a Shadow Game, you get violent and intense hallucinations and you will always cuz yknow, gamer spirit. But if you try to cheat, which most of the bad people do in this show, you get violent and intense hallucinations as a punishment.

Since the two anime are generally considered two different continuities, its perfectly fine that Yamis characterization is wildly different in both of them. But in the manga both of these characterizations appear, basically one after the other with no real arc or consequences, for that matter. Why is that? Simply put, someone thought it was a good idea to try to turn an episodic, very slice of life-y light-horror manga into a more traditional, more plot-driven battle shounen. From what Ive heard, it was apparently largely because of network interference or something, but the point is, it changed directions incredibly drastically with little planning and everyone knows this and I can understand that for the most part.

In RWBY we have the character of Blake Belladonna, who, in the first 3 volumes/seasons atleast, was this aloof, more toned down loner-type character with a pretty strong sense of justice. She's an in-universe marginilized racial minority and she clearly cares about racial injustice. The way its initially framed makes it seem like she had a very hard life and no stable support system, which is what eventually pushed her to join a Civil Rights group/Terrorist organization (good god, the Faunus subplot is so awful, I could write a whole essay about it but Im already de-railing rn so I'll just save that for later).

Then, in volumes 4-5 it turns out her father is actually like, the mayor or chief of this island-place called Menagerie and she grew up in this big mansion with multiple guards/servants. Oh and also, apparently "space is a commodity" on there, so theres that. She still retains large parts of her personality but she's kinda like, worse somehow I think. I cant really describe it in a meaningful way but I hope you get what Im saying anyway. Then in Volume 6 she confronted her emotional abuser Adam (sorry for not mentioning him sooner but yeah, he was like, her abusive boyfriend, which is something that a lot of people disagree with but I wont really say anything about it either way because I dont really feel any specific way) with her friend, Yang, and ended up killing him.

After all that, she pretty much lost the rest of her personality, as well as her arc about all the Faunus stuff. She just kinda became the meek, generically nice, recovering abuse victim. Why? Well, the actual reason is that they didnt plan out shit and are just kinda flying by the seat of their oversized clown-pants and if they and the fandom just admitted it, I would have less of an issue. I still wouldnt be as forgiving towards RWBY as I am towards YGO because the crux of the issue, for me, is just that I dont particulary like RWBY but also like. Do you really expect me to take MKEK seriously as writers after admitting to not have a timeline because iT wOuLd CaUsE pLoThOlEs?

However, since they want us to believe that everything was planned out from the beginning, the explaination would be.... Idk, they deliberately butchered one of their main characters?? Because.. they hate her?? Maybe????

So yeah, that was quite a detour however, I would like you to keep this mind going forward.

2. Themes of the Early Series'

First, what do mean by 'Early Series' for both of these shows respectively? Well, for YGO that would have to be Season 0 or if youre reading the manga, everything pre-Duelist Kingdom. Basically, the part of the series thats a episodic, very slice of life-y light-horror series.

For RWBY that would be the first three Volumes, also known as the Poser-Era. Back then it was just kinda an action series that took place at Anime Warrior Academy (also known as Beacon) with some pretty bare minimum worldbuilding, character-driven plots and developments but now its more of an epic high-fantasy story with more of an emphasis on plot as opposed to just action.

The themes and messages in Early YGO are kinda vague, very confusing to me and if you were to follow any of it literally that would be pretty bad. For now Im just gonna say the main themes are Friendship and Identity and mostly focus on the Identity aspect.

Now, it took me a little while to figure out RWBYs deal but I think the main themes for Volumes 1-3 are also Friendship and Heroism. Once again, I'll mostly focus on Heroism and touch on Friendship more briefly later.

I dont have much more to add to YGOs themes right now, so I'll briefly go over Heroism in RWBY.

In RWBYs setting there are these man-eating monsters called Grimm that have basically infected the planet. In order to deal with that, they have people called huntsmen and huntresses that kill them and protect people. Theyre trained at special academies like Beacon and go on missions there and stuff like that. Our four main characters, Ruby, Weiss, Blake and Yang, are training to become huntresses and one day they go on this mission to clean up a grimm infested city block with one of their teachers. Obviously, that takes a long time so they have to camp out in one of the empty houses. Weiss, Blake and Yang cant sleep because theyve been thinking about this question that their teacher asked them when they were fighting grimm: "Why do you want to become a huntress?"

They have a heart to heart and we find out about their motivations; Weiss wants to bring honour back to her family, Blake want to distance herself from the White Fang (that terrorist organization I mentioned earlier) and as an extension from Adam, Yang wants to have a life of adventure. They also talk about why Ruby wants to be a huntress and it turns out that she judt wants to help people. Unlike the others, she has no motivation besides that. We're meant to listen to that and look at her as a sort-of personification of Heroism: kind, but not naive, strong and most of all, selfless. The others on her team are not portayed as bad for not being like Ruby by any means but we are clearly meant to admire her the most out of all of them.

Okay, now comes the part Ive been looking forward to the most:

3. How did these themes evolve in the Modern Series'?

Alright, before we can really delve into the way they evolved in YGO I'll have to give you a brief summary of the character progression. At the start of DM, during the Duelist Kingdom arc, Yami Yuugi is just that; A darker Yuugi. Hes more confident, bolder, his voice is deeper, hes somehow taller, more ruthless, all that good stuff. Notably, he doesnt actually seem more skilled than Yuugi even at the start of this story, but he's still dependent on Yami. Yami on the other hand, has no identity of his own or even hints at one at this point. He's just The Other Yuugi.

Then during the Battle City arc, they find out that Yami was actually a pharao prior to being sealed in the puzzle, he just didnt know because of amnesia, I guess. So now they need to find out his real name and then send him to the afterlife because hes meant to be dead, but not before saving the world from being swallowed by darkness, which is also a thing they have to do now.

Then we finally get to the Memory World arc, where Yami, Yuugi and the rest of the gang astralproject to ancient egypt via puzzle magic. Yami is trying to figure out what the hell is going on and who all these familiar people are, while Yuugi & Co are trying their best to help him. Then some weird shit happens and it turns out that all of that is not just Yamis sealed away memories, but also a giant D&D Shadow Game that will destroy the world if Yami loses. So now theres Pharao!Yami who is still clueless on the metaphorical and literal playing field and Player!Yami, who is kinda controlling himself now? I guess?? Yamis opponent, The Spirit of The Ring, has something similar to that going on where hes both controlling and properly participating in the game. So Player!Yami is now fighting against Player!TSoTR, Pharao!Yami is now fighting against Thief King Bakura (who is like, the human, ancient egyptian version of the Ring Spirit) and Yuugi is now fighting against Yami Bakura (who is like, the human, modern japanese version of the Ring Spirit). Yuugi gets Yamis real name, he and the gang go over to Pharao!Yami and tell him his name, meanwhile Player!Yami is also somehow helping as well and they defeat the Ring Spirit, thus saving the world. Then they travel to modern Egypt, the Ceremonial Duel happens and Yuugi wins, sending Yami to the Afterlife where he can finally rest and that was the series!

I originally wanted to recount the stuff that was going on with the Ring Spirit and his host as well because they parallel eachother, but this summary is already far too long and I think youll get the point without me needing to explain any more.

My point here is, that the story went from being vaguely about Identity, maybe? to being very clearly about Self-Discovery and Learning to Be Independent. I think this is a very good way to evolve the messaging of your story. How does RWBY track on that?

Well, uh... its not great. I will acknowledge that they have tried to introduce new themes and ideas since, even though I wont really be talking about them in this post. But yeah, the whole Heroism thing really regressed.

Like, I didnt explicitly say it when I was explaining grimm earlier, but theyre not going away. The grimm have always been there and people who sign up to become huntsmen and huntresses are effectively signing up for a job that will never truly be done, no matter what they do. Characters like Ruby and even more minor ones like Phyrrah have shown us that that doesnt matter when youre a hero. No life isnt worth saving, no grimm isnt worth killing, no criminal isnt worth arresting. Then, in volume 6 they find out about Salem. Salem is the Big Bad of the show, shes immortal, controls the grimm and is supposed to be very powerful.

What do our heroes do? They give up. Sike! They were just mindcontrolled by monsters or some shit, of course they didnt give up their mission (which is to bring an Important Macguffin to a city called Atlas, sorry I didnt mention it)!

But then they arrive in Atlas (which is llike, a city thats floating over another city called Mantle) and yknow, they do some plot stuff thats not really important right now until the city gets invaded by Salem and this big grimm army she has.

What do our heroes do? Well, Ruby, Weiss, Blake and some side characters are chilling, drinking tea in a mansion and Yang and the B Team were actually trying to do something, but even those efforts seem incredibly minimal.

Oh wait, I also forgot to mention that Ironwood (a fairly minor, vaguely antagonistic character up until now) wanted to lift Atlas even higher to save Atleasian civilians from danger while leaving Mantle vulnerable to Salems invasion.

What would be the most heroic thing to do?

A) Let Ironwood lift Atlas, get as much support as they can down to Mantle and save as many Mantle civilians as they can from the invasion

B) Prevent Ironwood from lifting Atlas but then split up in order to protect both Atlas and Mantle civilians

C) Prevent Ironwood from lifting Atlas and then dont do anything else

Congrats! If you choose C, you think exactly like the writers!

And I just

This is so mindboggling to me, I feel like I shouldnt even have explain how this is bad. And like, it wouldve been so easy to actually make them seem herokc through their actions, to make it seem like they did try but no.

I have never seen a central theme be this botched, how in the world did they do that? Why did they think it was a good idea for Ruby "The Embodiment of Heroism" Rose to sit in a mansion doing nothing, no planning, no organizing just ..... God, how are they this bad? Like, this doesnt even have anything to do with it being planned in any way, this is just straight up incompetence

4. Very briefly touching on friendship

The friendship is awful and its not solely because they all have the same opinions. They barely interact with eachother outside their designated pairs which leads to it all feeling incredibly hollow. Theyre also practically indistingushable from one another now, which is a shame because it wasnt always like that. Like, I dont think the characters were that well-developed in earlier volumes but they were very well-characterized. But now we've gotten to a point where you can literally copy and paste one characters dialogue onto another and literally nothing changes, it really sucks.

5. Some closing words

Damn, this took way longer than I thought it would and now Im pretty exhausted. I have no idea how yall always write these but props to you! I feel like this ended up a bit rambly but overall, Im pretty proud.

Please let me know what you think of the points I brought up! Id also really appreciate some tips on how to get better at these longer posts because I am planning on writing more in the future (not the near future, probably but yknow).

Thats all I have to say for now, thanks for reading!

[yespolkadotkitty]

The Angel’s Share, chp. 13

Find past chapters here

Written with the incomparable @hopelessromanticspoonie​

Kate had obviously lost her only remaining marble.

What made her think that putting on her finest little black dress and swiping some mascara onto her dark eyelashes would be all she needed to fit in with Thomas’ crowd? Every bit of her wanted to tear off the soft, clingy dress, throw on her most comfortable set of pyjamas and veg out in front of the telly.

The buzz of her doorbell jolted her from her spiraling train of thought and she hissed after poking herself in the side of her neck with the stud of her earrings. “Fuck. Coming!”

She should have cleaned up before he arrived, Kate thought as she glanced around the cramped living area of her one bedroom flat. It wasn’t messy, no, but the small space appeared pretty cluttered when full to the brim with overloaded bookshelves and mismatched furniture. Glaring daggers at the dirtied mug and bowl from her quick lunch, she was all too aware of how drastically their living situations differed.

His chocolate-dipped voice easily made it through her thin front door when raised in concern. “Kate?”

No time to do a last minute tidy up. She yanked open her front door and her jaw dropped at the absolutely delicious sight of Thomas in a razor sharp black suit and tie. His head lifted from where he had been staring at the grubby concrete entryway and it felt so cliche, but her heart stopped at the soft, awestruck shine in his fine blue eyes.

“You look..” he appeared to struggle for the proper descriptor as he closed the distance between them to press a soft kiss to the crown of her carefully curled hair.

The nerves nagging her endlessly lessened some at the press of his large hands over her upper arms and the familiar wash of his spicy, citrusy cologne. “Way too hot to be your date, I know. I need to get my shoes and then I’ll be ready. Okay?”

“I will await you with bated breath.”

He tossed out such romantic nonsense like that with such earnest ease that she had no choice but to take him seriously. Her hand squeezed his quickly before she rushed back to her bedroom to slip on her nicest black flats and tuck her cellphone into her only nice clutch (thankfully also black).

“Who is Edmund Evans?”

The only slightly anxious smile fell from her face as she left the bedroom to see Thomas holding a folded up letter with a ring of condensation wrinkling the paper. Dread hung low in her stomach and she swallowed. “My sperm donor. Where did you find that?”

His eyes tightened with that feral fury she had glimpsed in the distillery. “I did not want this foul piece of filth ruining the coffee mug I found atop it. Does he say such awful things to you in each month’s letter?”

“I don’t typically read them,” she admitted, her eyes focusing on the clench of his hands as he crushed the paper in his grip. “But when I used to, he did, yeah.”

The low growl of his voice rumbled through her to clench low in her belly. “I would very much like to acquaint him with my fist.”

“He means nothing. Come on, GQ, let’s go drink some free whiskey and pretend that we actually care about some uptight blowhards.”

“Well. When you put it so nicely.”

*****

Anxiety gripped her after the door to his sleek, black car closed behind them with a wink from Andy. Her hand tightened in the crook of Thomas’ arm as they joined the swell of socialites smiling too brightly in sky high heels, men leering at them down the line of their upturned noses. 

Kate didn’t belong here. It was too much. What if Derrick was here? He would pick her out amongst his manicured ranks right away. Thomas would see that she wasn’t good enough for him or his lifestyle and toss her on her shapely ass, leaving her heart in tatters before the shined soles of his slick shoes.

“Breathe, Kate.” His head dipped down low to whisper the words against the shell of her ear. “It is they who are unworthy of you. Now how about a bit of liquid courage?”

It was much easier to play the part of soulless arm candy with the warmth of fine whiskey buzzing beneath her skin. She slipped into the familiar role of smiles, meaningless platitudes, and forced laughter as if she had never left. Thomas was as charming as ever, chatting up businessmen with pound signs in their eyes upon the exchange of business cards and handshakes.

“Allow me to refresh your beverage, sir. Excuse me one moment.”

She watched Thomas walk away with only a slight amount of hesitation before shifting her attention back to the distribution magnate across from her. Holding the glass against her lips with soft music playing beneath the din, her stomach filled with finicky finger foods and smokey liquor, catching the hint of Thomas’ cologne lingering against her skin from his parting kiss to her cheek, she was almost able to enjoy herself. When the conversation shifted to the dashing man currently bellying up to the bar, her forced grin gained a hint of sincerity.

“He is a fine young man and a driven businessman.”

Kate nodded automatically and did a quick, cursory sweep around the wood-paneled lounge. She recognized no one, and it appeared as if everyone who was anyone had arrived for the high-brow event. Affection slipped honey into her words and pulled her rouged lips into a true smile, “He is indeed. As a bar mana-”

“Is he alright?”

The concern in her companion’s tone jerked her gaze over to the bar where Thomas stood ramrod straight, glaring daggers at a man currently invisible to her for the thickness of the crowd. Even from such a distance she could easily pick out the tension pulling his shoulders back. Shit.

“Excuse me.”

She pushed her way through the crowd, uncaring if the whiskey clutched in her white-knuckled hand spilled for the unease rabbiting her heartbeat in her throat. Whatever had happened, they needed to shut it down immediately. She recognized the beginnings of a fight when she saw one, and this was not the time nor the place for it. Too much was on the line for Crimson Peak.

“Thomas, what are you-”

Her worried words died in her throat as she stepped up to his side and lighted a hand upon the tight muscles of his back. The ghost that had haunted her for the entirety of her life, staring back at her from newspapers and tabloids alike, scowled at her in the ruddy, pock-mocked flesh.

She hardly noticed her hand losing its hold on her tumbler, or the sound of shattering of glass as whiskey splashed against her bare legs. “Dad?”

****

Thomas glanced from the jumped-up toff before him to Kate, her face pale and drawn. So this old coot was his precious Kate’s father. Or, sperm donor, as she had so eloquently put it.

Edmund Evans might have been a dapper looking man in his youth, but he’d run to fat now, too much indulgence having bloated his waistline and given him sallow, overfed skin and jowls.

The older man had approached him to talk about Crimson Peak, and Thomas had been chatting away politely until the toff introduced himself. Evans had offered his hand, and Thomas had looked at it, and said “I’d rather not.”

That’s when Kate had arrived.

She looked a vision tonight. Easily worth twenty of these over-coiffed socialite girls. Kate was upfront and honest and real, and in some ways he wished he’d met her before, but perhaps his younger self wouldn’t have been worthy of her.

“Something wrong?” Evans asked, his lips slightly stained with red wine. Then he turned, having belatedly heard his daughter.

Kate looked at Thomas, stricken, and her eyes said no, no, don’t, but Kate had spent her entire life being cast aside as if she didn’t matter, and if Thomas had anything to say about it, it ended here.

“Katherine. What are you doing here?” Evans asked, as if she was a waiter rather than a guest.

“She’s here with me.” Thomas beckoned Kate over, but she stood stock still, a deer in headlights. He’d never seen her so…. cowed, and the shock of it made his anger burn even brighter, lighting a furious fire in his heart. “She is here as my guest, and as such you may not speak to her unless she gives her express permission, are we clear?”

Evans looked from Thomas to his daughter, surprise flickering over his jowly face. “Snagged a rich one here, haven’t you, Katherine? Your mother would be so very proud.”

Kate’s mouth fell open, her face rosy with embarrassment. 

Thomas advanced on Evans, looking down his nose at the shorter man, making his expression as icy cold as possible. The rest of the people at the event dropped away, and Thomas’ world narrowed to his desire to give Kate justice.

"Do you have the faintest idea of the brilliant, bright, self-sufficient woman you're missing out on, Evans? Do you? How strong and capable and smart and beautiful she is? I hope you know she neither needs nor wants you in her life, you charlatan."

Kate’s father smirked. “Oh yes, she’s got your wrapped around her little finger, all right. Actually, not so little, by the looks of it. You feeding her as part of the deal?” He shook his head, amused. “Just a whore like her mother, using you for your-”

In the next heartbeat he was on the ground, flat out.

Thomas swore at the pain ripping through his hand, but the sting and soreness was worth it to have flattened the bastard’s nose.

Evans lay on the floor, writhing pathetically, moaning. A few people looked in curiously, but at Thomas’ stone cold glare, no one intervened.

After a second, Thomas knelt on the floor, got right up in the toff’s face. “If you ever write to Kate again, if you ever contact her, I will make you sorry you ever accepted tonight’s invitation, and I will not even have to lift a finger to do it, understand? I will eviscerate you in society. I will ensure that copies of the drivel you write to her are published all over London.”

Evans took a shaky breath intending to speak, but Thomas wasn’t done. 

“From now on, if you arrive at an event and you see Kate there, you turn around and leave. Are. We. Clear?”

Evans clutched his nose and nodded weakly, blood leaking from between his thick fingers.

Thomas stood up, dusting off his trousers as if brushing away unpleasantness. He rounded Evans’ body and offered his arm to Kate. “Shall we, my dear?”

Kate closed her mouth, and blinked a few times, recovering. “Wow. You have a mean right hook, GQ.”

He opened his hand and flexed his fingers. “I’ve actually never punched anyone before. It’s…. rather painful.”

Kate lifted his sore hand and brushed her lips over his bruised knuckles. “Let’s get you some ice for that hand. C’mon, sweetheart.”

Thomas’ mood lifted even more as she led him to the bathrooms. “You called me sweetheart.”

A smile curved her lips, so kissable, and he couldn’t resist just dipping his head for a moment, and tasting the honeyed whiskey on her mouth. 

Her hand tucked into his elbow and squeezed, as she said cheekily, “Haven’t we established that I don’t hate you?”

Tagging (series): @rjohnson1280​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @villainousshakespeare​ @wolfsmom1 @arch-venus25​ @tamstrugglestowrite​ @trickstersteve​ @lucantis @exygon​ @kneel-before-queen-loki​ @lots-of-loki​

Polkadotkitty’s taglist: @myoxisbroken​ @palaiasaurus64​ @littlemissthistle​ @mary-ann84​ @pinkzsugar​ @peakygroupie​ @just-the-hiddles​ @lovesmesomehiddles​ @vodka-and-some-sass​

[badbookreviewclub]

Empress Theresa, Chapters 21-28. IT’S FINALLY OVER.

Disclaimer: If you haven’t read the previous review, you can find it here (chapters 11-20). This will contain spoilers. 

Well, the ending is finally here and holy fuck this book went off the rails. I only have one reaction to the ending of it and that’s just what the fuck. Just… What The Fuck Norman whatever the fuck you were on when you wrote the end of this book must have been some powerful shit because holy fuck. Let’s just get started and maybe you’ll see what I mean. These chapters are also completely nonsensical in how they’re put together and just so much information is shoved into them that it can get confusing. I’ll do my best to keep it clear. Chapter 21 The boat that was driven into the Exxon Maria was deemed as a terrorist attack because “the world know that this had been a terrorist bombing” (pg 321). They know this because a bunch of explosives had been smuggled onto the boat beforehand by Middle Eastern terrorists (because Norman is convinced there are no other kind of terrorists) and they drove it straight into the Exxon Maria to try and get back at Theresa for her oil mining operation. So how does Theresa retaliate? She drops the price of oil down to ten dollars a barrel. Thinking that OPEC (which I guess Norman still thinks is a terrorist organization. It’s not) is going to retaliate, Theresa has her parents moved to a safe place (West Point), and tells Prime Minister Scherzer that they have to evacuate the Israeli people now. He tells her that it will take 36 hours to start the evacuation. To remind Saudi Arabia of their deal (because there was a deal apparently in Theresa’s mind, even though there was absolutely no deals made, just an offer put on the table) Theresa raises a mountain in the middle of the Saudi Arabian desert. 

When the Israeli people start to cross evacuate via the landbridge to Crete because as it turns out, no, the island isn’t ready yet, Theresa parts the fucking sea to make giant water walls that terrorists and missiles can’t get through. Moses parting the Red Sea moment, anyone? Because of this, Prime Minister Scherzer calls Theresa the ‘Right Hand of God’. Theresa also decides that it’s time for her to head home, so the Ambassador of the United States to England asks if she would ride home on the Ronald Reagan (the same ship that led took her to the plane she was supposed to be blown up on) to give the ship her honor back. Theresa disagrees, but Steve says that Theresa should play (American) football with the navy of the Ronald Reagan against the Army (I think Norman means foot soldiers specifically). Theresa does agree eventually. 

Someone attempts to do the same drop that Theresa did when she was almost blown up and of course, rather than dissuading them, Theresa gives him tips on how he might survive. Unsurprisingly, he fucking dies. All Theresa does is say “oh whoopsy-doopsy, he fell into still water, not wavy water like I did. Must be why. Sorry that you’re dead bro. Nobody should do that again.” Chapter 22 

Theresa heads back to the United States, but in the process, HAL puts everyone in the plane into a deep sleep, including the piolets and every electronic. Somehow though, the Autopilot still works, so that’s lucky for Theresa I guess. Bitch learns how to fly a plane in under four hours. She lands it after causing millions of dollars worth of damages to the windows of buildings after flying just a little too low to them and as such that causes a lot of injuries, but she doesn’t get in trouble for that because she’s just too sweet and innocent for that. 

Chapter 23 

Am I moving really fast through this? I feel like I am. Though I will say, it’s definitely because I want to be done with this book as fast as I possibly can it’s so fucking dumb. I hate this book so much. I have never met a book that has baffled me as much as this one but absolutely fueled my anger to no end. Anyways… Theresa arrives at West Point (where her parents are) and going to the ranch house that was built specifically for her and her family. The football game takes place, and surprisingly, Theresa and the Navy lose to the Army. 48-36. I don’t know American football very well, despite living in the United States, so if anyone could tell me how good this is I would really appreciate it. 

We learn that her island is producing 3 million barrels of oil a day and by the next year is predicted to be producing 15 million barrels a day, so Theresa is rich as fuck and is going to have a monopoly on oil (what a wonderful capitalist she is). Because all the oil tycoons are worried she’s going to monopolize (she is) and then raise the price drastically, they put her into a two-year deal (bc that’s long enough) saying that the price can’t go above ten dollars a barrel. Theresa agrees without hesitation. 

It’s suggested to Theresa that she should monopolize the manufacturing industry as well, but she turns that down because it could “start a global trade war” (pg 370). 

Theresa, while being a jerk and ignoring everybody when she goes out into public because how could she possibly be expected to meet or even wave or smile at people, finally gives in and talks to 10 North Korean men (via a translator) who have brought her a PBS Documentary to show her the conditions of North Korea. Theresa watches it and is so moved that she comes down and tells the men that she’ll save their families. So essentially, this one PBS Documentary has convinced Theresa to declare war on North Korea’s government. 

Because the North Korean’s wouldn’t listen to her because she holds no power, Theresa joins the army (not really because she never ever ever ever sees combat, but she gets the titles that come with it). 

Chapter 25

Theresa gets her uniform. She specifically requests to have the male uniform because the female one doesn’t look powerful enough. She also gets men’s shoes instead of women’s shoes because the women’s would look stupid with the men’s uniform, I guess. Theresa also insists on wearing her hair down because nobody is going to say jack shit to her about it. Because Theresa got the uniform we learn that Steve has a uniform kink. “Steve thought I looked awful cute in my little uniform.  “‘Hon, you never looked better. It turns me on’” (pg 389). 

Now Norman, I thought this book didn’t have sexual content? Yet here we are, learning about Steve’s fetishes. I’m not going to fetish shame anyone, and more power to you Steve for being open with your sexuality, though I just wanted to point out that Norman specifically said this wouldn’t happen (just like the swearing). 

Anyways, Theresa goes to a meeting at the White House where she immediately becomes a five-star general, the first person after Omar Bradley died. Now I may be wrong, but Omar Bradley was a World War II veteran (a senior officer) and was Chairman of the Joint Cheifs of Staff and oversaw policymaking during the Korean War. The only thing Theresa has (realistically) done up until this point is kill off most of the population, if not all of the population. 

Theresa came up with the idea earlier on that the only way to liberate North Korea is to destroy their weaponry in a certain mile radius and then take over as their dictator for the time being until things could get set up. In a really complicated matter, Theresa sets up a plan wherein ten-miles around Pyongyang, the capital of North Korea, all weapons, planes, bombs, missiles, and helicopters will be destroyed. She works with the South Korean government in order to achieve this with HAL and so they can invade safely. 

But, duN DUN DUN! because all the weapons are destroyed, the government orders unarmed citizens and soldiers and other personnel to attack as soon as they see Theresa and the army. Because there’s 5 million of them, the South Korean army knows that they’ll be easily overwhelmed. Theresa’s solution? Take a Japanese island and move it a bit closer to North and South Korea, and then break North and South Korea away from China and move it closer to the Japanese Island. This way the Japanese Island can build a bridge over and then teach North Korea about a new government. And it fucking works. 

They invade Pyongyang after doing this and the South Korean army basically liters the city with pictures of Theresa’s face and a promise that she’s going to save and liberate them all. They drop all these pictures and promises with an airplane to hopefully quell the people’s worries. There’s a big crowd of North Koreans who are basically lining a gigantic boulevard and the South Korean’s are surrounding the tanks and Theresa, prepared to shoot anyone who gets rowdy or gets too close. Theresa tells them their leaders have left them on a complete fucking bluff, and the South Korean general who has been working with her confirms that they fled to China. Theresa is so relieved by this she almost starts crying, and then the North Korean’s start cheering and wailing and are basically so so so so so happy that Theresa is their new leader. 

And Theresa’s big speech as the new leader? She reads the first couple of paragraphs from the Declaration of Independence. And it’s a smash hit and her greatest success ever. She gives it to a translator so that the North Korean people can understand and just… “Nobody could translate such elegant language on the fly and maintain its beauty. I anticipated that. I’d given the translator the English text the day before and she worked all night at it. When I finished speaking she read what I’d said in Korean with all the emotions and nuances only a Korea could express. My speech or rather the translator’s rendition of it was a spectacular success. The crowd cheered their hearts out. Witnesses said President Stinson cried when I gave the speech. This event, broadcast to the whole world, was called by greatest achievement” (pg 418). And yes, I meant to write ‘a Korea’. That’s how it’s written in the fucking book. But the Declaration of Independence wasn’t written by Theresa and yet somehow it’s ‘her’ speech. And it’s a smashing success because fuck you. Chapter 26

Theresa sets up the South Korean government in North Korea because she can’t be fucked to actually lead it, but comes back when she needs to. In this chapter, Theresa gets really into biology and teaching HAL about biology. She also gets really into archaeology and discovers a bunch of really old Jewish scrolls but nobody can have them. They can look but only she can have them. She also finds Joan of the Arc’s remains because why the fuck not. 

Theresa also makes a mountain in the middle of Lake Michigan without consequence. This is all so they can have the Winter Olympics because I guess Mountain = Snow despite the fact that it’s summer the entire year.

Oh yeah, and Theresa recognizes that she could have thousands of lives with teaching HAL biology and learning how to do surgeries that could save lives that couldn’t otherwise be done. But she decides this is a terrible idea because she’ll end up in court if something goes wrong. 

“‘I can immobilize them like this [basically just holding their body together in a temporarily immortalized, unaging, undying stated] while the surgeon operates and saves thousands of lives.’ (Theresa) “‘And get yourself thousands of lawsuits when things go wrong. Hell the families will hope something goes wrong so they can go after your money’ (Steve) “‘You’re right. I’d spend the rest of my life in courtrooms. It’s a shame. Greed keeps me from saving lives’”  (pg 423).

The only greed keeping you from saving lives is your own. How fucking selfish of you to believe that people want their loved ones to die just so they can get some money. There are horrible people out there in the world like that, there’s no denying it, but the majority of people aren’t. You recognize you could save lives, but you chose not to because you don’t want to go to court if something goes wrong. You’re a fucking villain, Theresa. 

Because of this, I really don’t feel bad when Theresa gets hit by a car, breaks her back, and loses the ability to walk. Getting hit by the car was apparently a terrorist attack that was carefully planned because they wanted to hit Theresa. Because everything just has to be a fucking terrorist attack. But this is why Norman had Theresa suddenly pick up an interest in biology that was never ever even hinted at before. It’s so Theresa can start working on a plan to fix her back so she can walk again. And so she can figure out a way to be immortal. You’re supposed to feel bad for Theresa, but I honestly don’t.

Chapter 27 

More HAL’s show up because when Theresa was about to be blown up and she jumped from the plane, HAL divided itself into 420 other HAL’s. Now all these HAL’s are merging with people. Because Theresa doesn’t want to not be special anymore, she puts the entire world into a deep sleep under the pretense that all of these people could be another Adolf Hitler and she needs to take care of it and stop that before it happens. You know, so the logical explanation, because she can’t just put on HAL into a deep sleep, is to put the entire world into a deep sleep regardless of the consequences. Doesn’t matter if you’re in the middle of surgery or you’re in the ICU. It doesn’t matter if you’re about to die or something is happening. We’re just going to put everyone into a deep sleep because Theresa can’t be fucked to figure out a solution right now.

Chapter 28

600 years have passed and everyone starts to wake up. Everyone thinks Theresa is dead but she shows up with Steve and 420 (nice) children. All these children are geniuses and specialize in something and have the equivalent of like 10 college degrees. So in the past 600 years (where nobody aged, not even Theresa and Steve) the world has advanced massively because of the children and Steve and Theresa. 

Theresa also kept the children as 10-year-olds rather than letting them age. “I’d kept them in a pre-puberty state so they wouldn’t fool around with each other” (pg 464). It’s not like they’re siblings and look like mini replicas of you and your husband. It’s not like you should discourage incest among them because incest isn’t a good thing and can mess with someone’s psyche because it’s damaging a familial relationship by intertwining it with a sexual relationship. Not at all.

But these children, as it would turn out, don’t have a HAL. Theresa and Steve just had like 420 (nice) children I guess. No, Theresa just absorbed all of the other HAL’s and will absorb any other HAL that shows up on earth. And that’s the end of the fucking book. This shit show of a book is finally over. I hated it so much and I’m glad to finally be done with it. 

-8/10 stars. Get fucked Norman Boutin. Your book is stupid as shit and I hate it. 

[nocturnal-jeon]

𝚋𝚝𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 ➛ 𝚜/𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚢

Kim Namjoon

Namjoon didn’t think that you were stupid. Shit, if anything, he knew that you were far from it. It was the first thing that attracted him: your brain. When you were talking about a topic you were passionate about, your mouth moving faster than your brain, he would watch in awe as your eyes sparkled with every eloquent and intelligent word you spoke. 

You were astute. 

But for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why you didn’t realize how deep of a grave you were digging for yourself. Just like you, Namjoon wasn’t stupid. He knew that you were struggling for money. He had seen you count pennies in your purse just to pay for something that cost a few dollars. He had seen you eat nearly expired food hidden away in the cabinet because you didn’t have enough money to buy more food. He had seen you argue with the landlord because you were only a day late with rent. 

He offered to pay for your food. He offered to pay your bills. He offered to take care of you both emotionally and financially. 

But for the life of him, he couldn’t realize why you would work yourself to your breaking point just to pay the utilities bill when you had a loving and doting boyfriend right there, waiting for you to give him the word so he could take care of you. 

For the life of him, he just didn’t understand that. 

He tried his best to remain calm about the situation, though. He knew that you liked to handle things on your own; you were just driven like that. But he wondered what had to happen for you to finally turn to him for help. 

But something did happen. 

Namjoon was lounging around on his day off while you were at work like you usually were. He always found it ironic how given his job as an idol, you spent more time working and away from home than he did. 

When his phone rang and it was an unknown number, he was a bit hesitant to answer because he immediately thought that it was some crazed fan who got his number, but his gut was telling him to answer the call for some reason. 

So, he did. 

And it was good that he did.

It was your coworker. Namjoon had met them before and always thought that they were nice. They called extremely worried and concerned given the fact that you fainted while waiting for a cup of coffee to brew. And even though you had only been out for a minute or two, your coworkers tried to get you to go home so you could rest, but you insisted on working. You even added another hour to your shift so you could make up for “lost time.”

It was at that point that Namjoon’s worry for you evolved into anger. He just couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He knew you weren’t stupid. He knew that. But for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out how careless and neglectful of your health you could be. 

And that’s why Namjoon stood in your living room, placing all of your books into large brown boxes. He was tired of constantly worrying about you. He needed peace of mind. 

Stumbling into your apartment, exhausted, you were pleasantly surprised to see Namjoon standing there since the two of you weren’t planning to see each other. The brown box resting at his feet caused your eyebrows to raise. “What are you doing?” you hesitantly asked, your eyes slowly scanning the rest of the space, growing even more confused when it looked a lot more empty than it usually looked. 

“You’re coming to move in with me.”

Your head spun on a swivel at hearing him say that with such conviction. 

“What?”

“You’re moving in with me,” he said, simply reaching to grab another book and neatly stack it in the box. “Um,” you said, too shocked. Walking over, you reached in and grabbed the book he had just put there, looking up at him with eyes of disbelief. 

“Namjoon, we didn’t discuss this,” you said. Rather harshly, he grabbed the book from your hand, but the look in his eyes as he stared at you showed that he was sorry for his aggression. “We don’t need to. It’s done,” he said, lacking emotion. “Namjoon, what’s going on?”

His grip on the book tightened. 

“What’s going on is that you’re not taking care of yourself.”

Your eyes widened. 

“I know that you fainted today. I know that you asked for a longer shift even after losing consciousness. I know that you weren’t even gonna tell me. Am I right?” he asked, watching you with serious eyes. You said nothing, so he took that as a yes. 

“I know that you come home to a cold house because you can’t pay the heat bill and I know that you come home to an empty fridge because you can’t afford to go grocery shopping.” For some odd reason, tears grew in your eyes. Yes, all those things were right, but you just didn’t really realize it. 

“So, I’m done watching from the sidelines as you practically destroy yourself, y/n. I need to know that when I’m away that you’re taken care of. I need to know that you’re happy and living a life that you deserve. So,” he said, gently placing the book back into the box with a much softer demeanor. “You’re moving in with me.”

Defeated, not wanting to turn this into an argument, you nodded shamefully. You reached past Namjoon to grab another book to help him out given the fact that you basically owned all of the books in the world, but gently, his hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you. 

“No,” he mumbled, leaning down to place a warm kiss on the back of your hand. “Go sit on the couch and rest.” Normally, you would protest and help him, but your body barely made it to the couch before you collapsed, eyes fluttering closed within seconds. 

He sighed deeply, upset with how short and firm he seemed with you, but as he watched your adorable yet exhausted figure sleep sprawled out on the couch, he felt a pang in his heart. He needed to protect you and he wasn’t doing his job. 

So, by you moving in with him, while he was away, he could at least ensure that the lights stayed on, the water remained hot, the fridge was stocked with food, and that you had a warm, comfortable bed to sleep in every night. 

He knew that he would need to have another conversation with you about the hours you worked, but for right now, this would suffice. 

You didn’t have very many things so it didn’t take him long to pack the rest of your belongings. Sealing the last box, he left them all in the center of your apartment for the moving people when they came tomorrow. 

Carefully, he transported your sleeping body back to his apartment, not wanting to wake you up. He knew that you needed rest. With delicate hands, he discarded of your clothes and managed to pull one of his shirts over your half-naked body before putting you in his bed, tucking you in like a child. 

Kissing your forehead, he vowed to take better care of you. 

Kim Seokjin

Jin practically showered you in love and gifts every chance that he got. He loved seeing the surprised look on your face when he presented you with something he knew you always wanted and how most times, you would be at a loss for words, so you would just plant the sweetest most passionate kiss to his unsuspecting lips. 

You always felt bad whenever Jin spoiled you, but he would always boast about how proud he was of you, so for his sake, you tolerated it.  But there was always a small part of you that wanted to return the favor, regardless of the fact that Jin always said no. And with each gift he bought for you, that small fraction grew until you were 100% determined to return the favor. 

So, after a beautiful date at a pricey restaurant, you quickly gave your card to the waiter, catching Jin by surprise, causing him to stop midway as he reached into his pocket for his wallet. “What are you doing?” he asked lightheartedly, tilting his head to the side as he shoved his wallet back into his pocket. “Just let me do this,” you whined, a playful pout on your lips. Chuckling, he put his hands up innocently. “Okay, fine.”

The waiter walked back swiftly, an unreadable look on his face. “Ma’am, your card has been declined.” The smile was wiped from your face immediately as you grew uncomfortable. You felt embarrassed and that was evident on your face as your cheeks grew to a dark red tint. “Here, I got it,” Jin said as he lifted himself off of the seat momentarily to take his wallet out. Using his long fingers, he grabbed his card and gave it to the waiter who stood awkwardly with his hands clasped behind his back. 

“Y/n,” Jin said in a low voice as you, with shaking fingers, put your card back into your purse. You held up that same shaking hand to silence Jin. Looking up, your stomach turned at the concerned expression on his face. “I don’t want to talk about it,” you practically whispered. 

He opened his mouth to say something else, but ultimately nodded. 

In a low voice, you asked to go back home and Jin obliged, not wanting to upset you. 

You went radio silent for a few days, and while Jin could understand why you felt so embarrassed he grew a bit worried when you hadn’t contacted anyone in four days. Yes, that was a short amount of time, but you and Jin were used to spending every day together. So this was a drastic change to his routine. 

So, on Friday night, he texted you to invite you over to the dorms for a weekly movie night with the boys. You lied and said that your car was in the shop and Jin simply replied with an okay, so you figured all was well. 

But twenty minutes when you heard knocking at your apartment door, you opened in, in a full pajama set and grew shocked when you saw and angry Jin standing there. “Hey, what are you doing here?” you asked, a small smile on your face. “I came to pick you up since you said you car was in the shop. But funny thing. Your car is right in its usual parking spot,” he condescendingly said, clearly livid. You swallowed hard. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you mumbled, staring down at your feet. He scoffed. “Yeah, you never want to talk about it. But when you are, let me know,” he spat before turning around and walking down the hallway out of your apartment building. 

Slowly closing your door, silent tears slid down your cheeks as you once again felt embarrassed.

Jin took the rest of the day to calm down before thinking about what happened the day before. He wanted to fix things. He knew there was something up with you, and while he really wants you to tell him, he realized that verbally explaining your emotions wasn’t going to work. 

Returning to your apartment around noon, he slid a notepad under the door with a small little message. He knew that you probably didn’t want to see him after the small outburst he had, so hopefully you would just read what he wrote. 

You woke up extremely late and realized you had no milk to put into your coffee. With a loud groan, you pulled on shoes to walk down the street to the convenience store to get more, but when you saw a yellow notebook with scribbles on the front, you forgot all about the milk. 

I know that you might be mad at me and I’m sorry for raising my voice like that with you. But I can see that something is wrong and I’m getting pretty worried. So, please, if you can, just write out what’s wrong and slip it out of the door at 5pm. I know you might not want to see me, which is fine. 

I love you. Please don’t forget that.

Jin

You sat at the dinner table in your kitchen not knowing what to write at first, but soon you found yourself filling almost all of the pages with all the worries clouding your mind. You felt stupid reading some of the sentences you wrote, realizing it was stupid for you to be so upset about certain things. Yet here you were, lying to Jin about your car being in the shop because you were too embarrassed to tell him that you didn’t have money for gas and didn’t want you car to breakdown mid-drive. 

And when 5pm came around, you found yourself scribbling your own little message too. Sliding the now-filled notepad back under the door, you went into your room, emotionally drained. 

Jin really had been waiting out there since he left the notepad there, just sitting in the hallway. He was too worried to leave, if he was being honest. He needed to know that you were alright. So when he saw the notepad slide into the hallway, he grabbed it and smiled a bit at the message you wrote on top. 

I would never not want to see you Jinnie. I’m sorry I’ve been rude and that I’ve lied to you. It’s all explained in here, though. Again, I’m really sorry for lying to you, it kinds just happened, but I hope you can forgive me. 

And of course, I love you too. 

Y/n

Reading the words you wrote with wide eyes, his heart began to fill with guilt after learning that you had been suffering alone for so long. You were eerily good at hiding your emotions. And after reading maybe twenty minutes about what was really just financial problems, Jin found himself watching tears that dripped onto the pages. 

He sniffled and closed his eyes, trying to figure out what to say to you when he knocked on the door. But he needed to see you. He just needed to look at your face, so there he found himself knocking on your door. 

You opened the door, groggy from the sleep you were just yanked out of. 

Before you could even register that it was Jin, he was pulling you into his chest as he held you close. But you weren’t even mad at it as you melted into his much-needed touch. 

“I’ll help you financially. I’ll help you emotionally. I’ll be better, I promise,” he whispered in your ear. You nodded, tears soaking through his shirt. 

Min Yoongi

It wasn’t typical of Yoongi to ask you to accompany him to company events, let alone a whole celebrity event. Some music award show was coming up, and Yoongi had gone in the past and didn’t think to invite you. But now that your one year mark has passed, Yoongi realized that his relationship with you was forever.

So, when he asked you to be his date, at first you were a little nervous because you’ve never been to a place like that, but you knew that if Yoongi was asking you something like that, then he really wanted you to be there. 

So, you said yes. 

And though Yoongi would never admit it or show it, fireworks were going off inside. He wasn’t a fan of PDA, so he wasn’t going to kiss you or anything like that at the awards show, but just showing off the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with would mean the world to him. 

As you sat at your desk one day, bored at work, you thought about the event and a smile formed on your face at the simple fact that he even asked you. Since the beginning of your relationship, he made it very clear that he wasn’t going to publicly flaunt your relationship; he just wasn’t that person. 

So this was a big development in your relationship. 

But your thoughts began to drift from the invitation to what you were going to wear. And that’s where you began to get stressed. You didn’t have very many clothes. And it wasn’t a personal choice. You just didn’t have the funds for clothes, so you worked with what you had. 

You racked your brain for any formal clothes you had, but all you could think of was a sundress your sister had loaned to you many years ago. You sighed, knowing that you don’t wear a sundress to something like a celebrity award show. 

You figured that you would just have to find something online once you got home. 

You at around seven pm, absolutely drained. You hated your job and the pay was shit, but if you worked enough hours in a week, you would just manage to scrape by. 

You gathered enough energy, though, to smile when you saw Yoongi’s shoes at the door. You made your way to the bedroom, content when you saw Yoongi lounging under the covers, his phone in his hand as the bright screen lit up his face. 

“Hey, baby,” he said, looking up over his phone. “Hey,” you said with a smile, letting out a sigh as you sat down at the bottom of the bed and instantly began to discard of your clothes. 

“Hard day at work today?” he asked, his voice closer. Suddenly, three open mouthed kisses trailed along the skin of your shoulder. “Yeah. And fucking long, too,” you breathed, falling back into his warm embrace. “You work so hard,” he mumbled, arms wrapping around your front. 

“You know, you can just sleep in this.” You looked down at your bra and panties, thinking about changing into some sweatpants because you were a little cold, but that’s why you had Yoongi, so you shrugged and nodded. 

Leaving his grasp, you crawled up into the bed and Yoongi crawled up about half way, his head coming to comfortably rest on your lap. Running your fingers through who you thought was a sleeping Yoongi, you reached over onto your nightstand and grabbed your laptop, looking for ballgown-like dresses, cringing at the prices. 

You found a dress that you thought was appropriate for the occasion but also sexy and sleek. You added it to your wishlist. That was a habit of yours. Since you never had the money, you would save things to your wishlist in hopes of one day having the funds to buy it. 

Yoongi knew this too, and as he watched you hover the cursor over a dress he knew you wanted, his heart ached at the sounds of you muttering. “It costs so much..and if I buy it, how will I pay the light bill?” Yoongi didn’t want to say anything, though. You thought he was asleep and he wanted to keep it that way. 

So, with a heavy sigh, you closed your laptop and put it back where it belonged. 

Maybe five days later, as you entered your bedroom after coming back home from yet another long and tiring day, your mood lifted immediately when you saw Yoongi resting comfortably in your bed, the tv on the wall across from him on some random show. 

Just as you opened your mouth to say something, an item of clothing on the bottom of the bed caught your attention. Upon closer examination, you saw that it was the ballgown you wanted to buy. Your mouth dropped open in shock as you turned to Yoongi. 

He gave that cute little side smile. “Do you like it?” he simply asked. “How did you know I wanted this one?” you asked, in complete and utter shock. Sliding out of bed, he stood beside you and looked at you. “Magic powers,” he joked, fluttering his fingers, causing you to chuckle. 

“Seriously. Let me pay you back,” you quickly said reaching into your purse, but his hand held onto yours and brought it up to his lips. “There’s more coming,” he said before placing yet another kiss on the back of your hand. Your eyes widened. “More? What?”

“You’ll just have to see,” he speculated, his eyebrows rising. Tears prickled your eyes. “Yoongi, I don’t know what to say..” you mumbled, on the verge of tears. “Then don’t say anything. Just go try it on so I know it fits,” he said, a cute little boyish smile on his lips. You took the dress into the bathroom and put it on, tears streaming down your cheeks when it fit perfectly as you gazed at yourself in the mirror. 

When you opened the bathroom door, Yoongi looked you up and down, his tongue passing through his lips. “Damn, y/n. It looks even better than I could have imagined,” he complimented. You blushed and slid out of the dress, not wanting to get it ruined, and ran into Yoongi, arms wide. 

Chuckling, he held your half-naked body close. “I love you,” was all he said, kissing the top of your head. “I love you, too.”

Several days later you were in tears once again when you realized that he had purchased all of the clothes in your various wishlists. And he made you put on a little fashion show for him as you were extremely happy to have new and cute clothes to wear now. And as you showcased each outfit, Yoongi thought, “Damn. I’m spending the rest of my life with them.”

Jung Hoseok

Hoseok admired how much of a hard worker you were. He admired how many hours you put into a job that you hated just so that you could flower him in gifts. Hoseok never took the gifts, though, because he knew that while you were trying to repay him for all of the little expensive gifts he had given you, the money you used to buy those things needed to be used for bills. 

He never let you handle the bill. He never let you pay for even something as simple as an ice cream cone. He would often bring you to hair salons and nail salons so that you could get in some self care because he knew that while he was on tour, you were just working yourself for hours upon hours without a break.

You had only really talked about your issues with money once to Hoseok, and though that was months ago, the conversation was fresh in his mind and he always observed you with wide eyes. 

Through an issue with your landlord, you realized that you had to move. But, the issue was that you didn’t have all that much money. So, for about a month, you went off the grid, just barely talking to Hoseok as you worked your ass off to make just enough to buy another apartment. 

And when you did, Hoseok took you out to celebrate, extremely proud of your hard work. 

But when you had purchased the apartment, similar in size to your previous one, you realized that you didn’t have enough money to buy more than a cheap bed and a couch. Your other apartment included furniture, so you lucked out, but now, you were eating dinner without a table, cross-legged on your extremely uncomfortable bed. 

Hoseok would ask where all the furniture was and you would lie and tell him that it was coming in a few weeks, but Hoseok could see the sadness behind your happy expression. He knew there was no furniture coming. 

I was after he had heard you crying in the bathroom on the phone with your sister that he realized how unhappy you were. Yes, you worked hard, but whenever you were around Hoseok, you always had a strong front up because you didn’t want him to worry. But he was. He always worried about you.

On a day off your boss practically forced you to have, Hoseok had an eventful day planned. After discussing with the boys, he planned for a “day out” far in into the country, at least a four hour drive. You had agreed to go and so did all of the boys, but last minute, Hoseok said that he had some stuff to deal with, but he encouraged you to go. 

And while you would miss him a lot, you were also friends with the boys, so you knew the day would still be fun. 

You and the boys left at the crack of dawn because of the long drive, and it was then that Hoseok put his plan in place. 

He knew you like the back of his hand. It was as if you and Hoseok were twins. You had the same music taste, clothing style, and design style. So, Hoseok figured that he would hire some designers to help spruce up your apartment. 

The designers and painters came in sharply at 6am, ready to decorate the shit out of your apartment. You always had a soft spot for interior design, so whenever you got the chance, you would show Hoseok all these pictures and gawk over them for half an hour. 

Hoseok gathered all the things he knew you liked and spit it out all over your small yet cozy apartment. He even helped a little, painting the walls of your bedroom a light grey. 

It took nearly all day for all the new furniture to be moved in, and once they were done, Hoseok thanked them and looked around, doing a last minute inspection before you came home. It was probably around 9pm when you entered the apartment, exhausted. The boys decided to go home, but they dropped you off at your apartment building first. 

You pushed open the heavy door to your apartment and honestly thought that you had walked into the wrong apartment. But nope. Hoseok was standing in the living room, a bright smile on his face with his arms outstretched. 

“Welcome home!”

“Hoseok, what is this?” you asked, at a loss for words. “Do you like it?” he asked in a hopeful voice, eyes sparkling. “Of course I do,” you mumbled shortly, looking down at your feet as you tried to calm your oncoming tears. You hated crying in front of people. 

“No, no. Please don’t cry.” Moving quickly towards you, Hoseok wrapped his arms around your body, holding you close. “This is supposed to be happy,” he added in his always-cheery voice. You nodded, sniffling as you wiped a few stray tears away. 

“I am happy, Hobi. You didn’t have to do this,” you said, looking up at him with watery eyes. Showing that bright smile of his, he kissed your forehead. “I love you and I want you to have a nice home to come back to after you work so hard,” he whispered, quickly wiping tears away before they got past your defined cheekbones. 

“I love you, too,” you said with a smile large enough to brighten millions of lives. 

Park Jimin

Jimin didn’t know you were struggling with money. It was either you were really good at hiding it or he just figured the opposite. You came from a severely wealthy family would could send the next six generations to college with their seemingly abundant funds with ease. But, since you were the oldest of your siblings, you got cut off as soon as you turned 18. 

Though you grew up around maids and cooks, you were the least spoiled and self centered like the rest of your siblings. You made the right friends who introduced you to the world, so as you went off to college and stuff, you didn’t sound like the stuck up rich girl your parents had raised. 

If anything, you were glad that your parents cut you off because you wanted to make a name for yourself and work hard for your money, rather than get it handed to you. 

You knew that it would be hard since you had to pay your way through college and somehow pay back your student loans, but when your bills were stacked high and your bank account was empty, you at least thought that your parents would extend an olive branch and help their only daughter out. 

But nope. 

“Mom,” you began, sitting down at your kitchen table, your head resting lazily on your cheek. But as you heard her tone escalate, given the fact that your mother was very short tempered, you put the phone on speaker and placed it on the table. 

“No, y/n. Do you know what the meaning of “work for your money” means? When we had this discussion all those years ago, you seemed so happy to make your own money. And it seems that you’re doing pretty good since then,” your mother irritatedly said, no doubt rubbing her temples like she always did when she was stressed. 

“Well, clearly I’m not doing too well if I mustered up the courage to call you,” you snakily said, dumbfounded by how this conversation was going. “Y/n, we’re not giving you any money. This is adulthood. It gets hard but it gets better,” she said with a heavy sigh. 

Tears prickled your eyes, so you took in a deep breath, trying your best to regulate your mood and not get too upset. “Mom. I’m getting very close to losing this place. You really aren’t going to care when I’m on the streets?” you asked in a low voice, afraid of the answer you were expecting. “Of course I’ll care!” she exclaimed, upset that you even asked that. 

“Just go live with that boyfriend of yours,” she added, causing you to scoff, anger replacing the sadness that once tried to plague your body. “I’m not like you mom. Living with my rich partner just to live off of their hard earned money and sit on my ass all day!” you shouted into the phone. Your mom hung up and you put your head in your hands. “Fuck,” you breathed out, brushing the hair out of your face. 

Jimin stood in the slightly ajar doorway, listening with wide, tear-filled eyes. He didn’t know. He had no idea. And from the sounds of it, he wasn’t supposed to know. He wasn’t supposed to hear this. So, he asked himself, do I say something?

As he thought about the answer to that daring question, he entered the apartment as if he had just arrived, plastering a fake smile on his face. “Merry Christmas, baby!” he shouted, causing you to quickly look up from your hands. “Merry Christmas,” you calmly said, walking over to him as you let him embrace you, placing a kiss on your cheek. 

Well, technically, it wasn’t Christmas. It was Christmas Eve. But Christmas was your favorite holiday, so in your house, it lasted all week up to Christmas. 

“I have the Grinch ready for us to watch,” you said with a sweet smile, holding his small hand in yours and dragging him over to the living room. He opened his mouth to say something, but when he saw how happy you were at the sight of him, he knew that he didn’t want to bring up all those upsetting emotions again.

Guess that was his mistake.

Pulling him down on the couch, you snuggled into his side as you began the movie. Wrapping his arms around you, he looked around your apartment and noticed that his own Christmas spirit was rising at the sight of the bright and festive decorations you decided to decorate with. 

Rubbing your back, he placed a simple yet sweet kiss to your head, battling with his own thoughts on how to approach this situation. 

Or even if he should. 

It was maybe halfway through the movie when the lights went out, including the tv. You let out a little squeal, caught by surprise, but Jimin’s arms tightened around you as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You were confused momentarily, too. But then you remembered. 

“Here, give me a second. I’ll call the landlord and see what’s going on,” you said, aiming to kiss Jimin’s cheek but instead cutely kissing his nose. With your arms out in front of you, you made your way to the bedroom, calling your landlord. 

Jimin, beyond curious at this point and confused decided to follow you and linger outside the door of your bedroom. 

“You can’t give me a few more days? I’m sure I can gather the money by then,” you spoke in a low voice, Jimin’s heart shattering. “Fuck,” you muttered, nibbling hard on your bottom lip. But Jimin had heard enough. He knew what was going on and while it hurt him to the core, he knew that you would probably need comfort. 

So, using the flashlight on his phone, he went to your candle cabinet in your kitchen and lit all of them with matches, littering them around the living room while you sat on the floor in your bedroom, trying to think up a lie to tell Jimin. 

He spread out multiple blankets on the floor in the living room and mentally praised himself for a job well done. 

Just as he sat down, you emerged from your bedroom, eyes wide. “What’s this?” you asked slowly. “The lights are probably out in the whole building, so I figured we could make it cozy,” Jimin lied as he shrugged, a sweet, innocent smile on his lips. 

Slowly, you made your way over and Jimin pulled you down onto his lap, wrapping the both of you in a thick blanket. No power meant no heating, so indefinitely, the cold air of Seoul would seep into the apartment. 

He thought you looked beautiful with a combination of moonlight from the window and candle light brightening up your face, casting shadows in all the right places. 

Slowly, his hand rubbed your back. 

“Y/n,” he said in a low, gentle voice. He knew. He knew. And that was enough to have you in a mess of tears, too embarrassed to say anything. Jimin’s eyes teared up immediately. “No, no. Shhh. I’m here,” he whispered, holding you close with no intention of ever letting go.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, trying to gather more information. You shook your head, shoving the palms of your hands into your eyes. He placed three sweet kisses to the crown of your head. “Y/n. Let me help you. I know you hate asking for help, but please. Let me help you,” he muttered. You hesitated, but nodded slowly. 

He had a strong feeling that this had happened before. And that’s what hurt him the most. He knew that while he was abroad doing what he loved, you were sitting in the dark at home alone, too proud to ask for help. 

You had calmed down at this point, but there were still a few sniffles here and there. 

“Here, we can finish watching the Grinch,” Jimin said as he took out his phone, going onto Netflix to resume where you were. And he held his hand out in front of your face as you watched, trying to allow your favorite childhood movie to calm your nerves. But when he heard your soft little snores, he turned off his phone, preserving the battery and he looked down at you. 

“I’ll help you from now on. Always,” he whispered before falling asleep right on top of you. 

Kim Taehyung 

You were sick. Really, it started out as a simple cold you got from standing out in the rain like an idiot. But you were Taehyung’s idiot, so of course he took care of you. He loved being able to have an excuse to constantly hold and baby you. And you loved it, too. He stayed at your apartment with you and cared for you like you were a helpless child. 

He made you soup, cuddled and kissed you, watched movies with you, and gave you baths. But it seemed that the cold was turning into something much worse. Taehyung urged you to go to the doctor, but you insisted that it was just a cold and that you were going to be fine. You just continued to take the same medications. Well, that was until you ran out. 

Taehyung lovingly kissed you on the forehead before he left to go to buy you some more medicine. 

And that’s when things took a turn for the worst. 

Taehyung came home to you sweating like crazy as your body shook slightly. Taking your temperature with furrowed brows, he saw that you were running a dangerously high ever. Higher than he’s ever seen. “I’m taking you to the hospital,” Taehyung murmured as he picked up your shuddering body, holding you close as he slid his feet into shoes.

“Wait,” you said in the weakest voice he had ever heard escape your lips. “What, baby?” he asked, looking down at you with the sweetest yet concerned expression. “I don’t have health insurance,” you groggily said, eyes drooping closed. His eyes widened. Maybe it was just you being a little too sick. Maybe you just didn’t know what you were saying. 

Nonetheless, he frantically took you to the hospital, beyond scared for your wellbeing. 

With a start, you sat up in bed, gasping for air as you looked around your surroundings. “Woah, woah. Take it easy,” Taehyung said beside you in his chair, sitting up and grabbing your hands. “Why are we here?” you asked in a hoarse voice. Handing you a cup of water, Taehyung said, “You have a bad case of the flu.”

Eyes wide, you tried to take the IV out of your arm, but in an instant, Taehyung was firmly holding your hands. “What are you doing? It’s helping you,” he said, confused as to why you were acting like that. Sniffling, you fell back into the hospital bed, a hand coming up over your mouth to muffle your sobs. “What’s wrong, baby?” Taehyung asked as he stood up and hovered over you, stroking your hair with one hand. “I don’t know..how I’m going to pay these hospital bills,” you managed to get out before breaking into much louder sobs. 

So you did mean it. You weren’t just sick and delirious. You really didn’t have health insurance. “Hey, shh,” Taehyung murmured as he placed his body over yours, his head resting next to yours as he rubbed your arms, simultaneously kissing your neck. “Let me pay the hospital bills. You don’t have to worry about that. Please, don’t worry about that. You just need to focus on getting better.” 

Suddenly, your hand flew to his arm and tightened its grip, causing Taehyung to move his head back and look at you Your eyes were wide with what Taehyung could only guess was fear. “I’ve got it, y/n. Don’t worry about it. You’ll be taken care of,” Taehyung promised, stroking your insanely warm cheek. Your fever still hadn’t gone down by much. 

Feeling the effects of the pain medicine pumping through your veins, your eyes began to droop once again and you fell back asleep, leaving a concerned Taehyung. He didn’t know that you didn’t have health insurance. Were times that hard for you? Were your finances really that low?

Regardless of that, he focused on your recovery, and when the bills came in the mail, he grabbed them before you could see and paid them. He couldn’t add you to his health insurance since you weren’t married yet, but he always paid your medical bills whenever the issue arose. He paid a lot more attention to the financial issues you were having. He wanted to care for you in more ways rather than emotionally. 

Jeon Jungkook

It was your birthday. And while it was another birthday of many, it was your first birthday with Jungkook. And honestly, Jungkook had been awaiting this day more than you have. He had arranged to have the day off just so that he could spend every hour he could with you on your special day. 

You never really made a big deal of your birthday because it just felt like every other day of the year. You never got gifts, you didn’t go on elaborate vacations, and you never had a party. So really, all you did in preparation for this “big” day was buy yourself a nice tub of ice cream to share with Jungkook. 

But nope. 

Jungkook had better plans in mind. He wanted to spoil the shit out of you. It wasn’t like Jungkook didn’t buy gifts for you because he did, but he always noticed how you were hesitant to buy yourself something nice and treat yourself. He knew you weren’t a minimalist, so when he saw that you cycled through the same five shirts and three pants and wore the same pair of sneakers, even if they were tattered and dirty, he grew confused 

So he talked to Namjoon about it and Namjoon asked if you worked a low paying job. Jungkook said yes. Namjoon explained that you were probably struggling with money. 

This was new to Jungkook because he never suspected that of you. You always wore the small amount of clothes you had with a smile and never once complained. Sometimes, though, you would opt out from buying something if the two of you went out to eat or you would always get super anxious when Jungkook offered to pay. 

You were shorter than Jungkook, but your ego was taller than you and Jungkook combined. So, there was no way, no matter how bad things got financially, that you would ask Jungkook for help. You liked to solve things on your own. 

Jungkook had been thinking about taking you on an impromptu shopping spree for a while now, but since it was your birthday, there would be no better time for him to drown his baby in designer outfits you would never buy for yourself. 

Jungkook had to literally drag you into the mall. 

“Jungkook, what are we doing here?” you whined as he kept his grasp on your hand firm but gentle. “Give me a second,” he said, turning back to flash a smile at you before turning back around and navigating his way through the large bustling building. 

He took you to a store that he thought suited your style perfectly, and as you stood in the entrance beside him, looking wide eyed at all the clothes, he gave a gentle shove, pushing you a few feet into the store before you stopped yourself. 

“What are you doing? Aren’t you here to buy something?” you asked. “No,” he said with a boyish chuckle, shaking his head at your adorable oblivion. 

“Pick out whatever you want. Part of your birthday present is a shopping spree. So, go crazy!” he exclaimed, expecting you to smile and go look at the clothes, but he didn’t expect for your face to be so red. That really only happened when you were anxious and embarrassed. To your dismay, you were feeling both at extremely elevated levels. 

Throwing away his joking front, his face became serious as he reached over and grabbed your hand, pulling you out of the store and gently pushing you against the wall a few feet away from the entrance. 

Bending his knees so that he was level with you, he frowned. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked. You looked down at your dirty shoes, feeling small under the gaze of your millionaire boyfriend wearing spotless and practically new sneakers. Instead of answering, you nibbled harshly on your bottom lip. 

“Hey,” he said softly, lifting your chin so you would look at him. 

“You work hard, y/n. So hard and I’m so proud of you. Let me treat you,” he gently spoke, staring into your eyes. “But I don’t want you to waste your money on me,” you murmured. Jungkook scoffed. 

“If it was being spent on you, it would never be wasted,” he replied, but all you did was shake your head and look back down. 

“Y/n,” Jungkook called. 

“This is me taking care of you,” he began, his heart beating loudly in his chest. “Please, let me take care of you.” 

Sighing softly, you nodded with unease, still not 100% okay with the idea. With a sweet and long kiss to your forehead, he intertwined his fingers with yours, this time, entering the store with you since he knew you would need some encouragement. “Pick something,” he encouraged with a smile. You, with a shaky hand, reached for the cheapest t-shirt. Jungkook frowned. He knew you didn’t even like it. And as you looked around the room, he could see when you saw something you liked. 

And yes, the prices were high, but what was the point of making all that money if he couldn't share it with anyone?

So, Jungkook got clever. 

“Here, why don’t you get this?” he suggested as he lifted these ugly brown jeans off of the rack. He could see your nose shrivel up. “These are cuter, though,” you said with a smile as you lifted a pair of jet black skinny jeans next to them. “Okay, then get those,” Jungkook said, and you happily draped it over your arm. 

Jungkook had to do that every time for you to buy something, but once you caught on to what he was doing, he settled with picking stuff out that he could see that you liked or stuff that he thought would look good on you. 

After about maybe one hour of Jungkook using his hidden fashion skills to create outfits for you, he brought he clothing items to the register and waited patiently as it all got rung up. But, through the corner of his eye, he saw you staring intently at the overall price rising significantly with each beep of the machine. 

Shaking his head with a cute smile, he, without warning, picked up your body and slung it over his shoulder, playfully slapping your ass. 

“Jungkook, put me down!” you exclaimed, punching his ass with your hands, but instead of doing what you asked, he reached into his pocket for his wallet. “Jungkook, don’t pay for that!”

“Oops. I already did,” Jungkook said, finally putting you down once the prices were off of the screen. Pouting, you didn’t help carry any of the bags, so Jungkook did and walked out of the store with you. 

“I can’t wear any of these,” you complained. He chucked cutely. “I’ll just give it to Jimin. You and him have similar styles,” Jungkook said with a simple shrug of his shoulders. You gasped. “Nope. Nope. I’m good. I’ll keep it,” you quickly said, causing Jungkook to let out a full body laugh. 

“Happy birthday, darling,” he mumbled, placing some of the bags in your hand. All you could do was smile. 

[theycallme-tunathot]

sleep. [chapter 3]

Pairing: Wonho x Reader/ ft, Jeon Jungkook, Kim Jisoo, Park Jinyoung, Min Yoongi and a few other idols. Rating: NC-17 or M Synopsis: The consequences of your actions are a lot more serious than you thought. After the massage, nothing is the same. After meeting Wonho, everything’s changed. Warnings: Violence later on, sexual content, mentions of demons and angels Author’s Note: Alright, this is late again, but hopefully it’s worth the wait! Gif credit goes here.

“I really fucking hate you.”

Your name: submit What is this? // <![CDATA[ function replaceAll(find, replace, str) { return str.replace(new RegExp(find, 'g'), replace); } function myHandler() { var input = document.getElementById("inputTxt").value; document.body.innerHTML = replaceAll('Y/N', document.getElementById("inputTxt").value, document.body.innerHTML); } // ]]>

“So how was it?”

Jungkook was seated on the couch, waiting for me when I arrived.

Breathless and eyes wild, I glared heatedly at my best friend.

“You fucker.”

His eyes glimmered, enjoying the level of annoyance I was on. “It must’ve been mind-blowing.”

“You dick wart.”

I watched as the tip of his tongue stuck out from between his teeth, his eyes never leaving me. “Did you run all the way here?”

“Shut up!” I yelled. “You don’t get to talk.”

“You ran here barefoot?”

“I said shut the fuck up,” I growled back, hitting the framing around the entrance to the living room. I could hear the wood splinter and crack beneath my fist and it filled me with the sweetest of satisfaction. At least something besides me was cracking under all of this energy.

“Yell at me all you want. Call me whatever you want,” he said, leaning forward, his elbows planted firmly atop his thighs. “Go ahead.”

“Why would you do this? Who the fuck is that guy?” I yelled, the anger and rage flashing across my body so quickly, I almost forgot I was still breathless from my run. “I mean, is this some kind of joke between the two of you?”

“Keep going.”

“I really fucking hate you.”

“How much?”

“A fucking lot!”

I was struggling to find my vocabulary in the moment.

“That doesn’t sound so bad–I can survive ‘a fucking lot,’” he said, eyes narrowed as he gave me a plastic smile. When he stood, my muscles tightened. “Judging by the look you’re giving me, you hate me more than you’re letting on. So, come on. How much do you hate me?”

Growling at him in frustration, my hand latched around the nearest item, an ornamental vase that never once saw water or a flower, and launched it at Jungkook. If his reflexes weren’t so fucking good, it would’ve hit him square in the forehead and I would’ve been satisfied.

But his reflexes were better than mine and he easily deflected the vase.

“You’re a piece of shit.”

Jungkook pouted. “Me?”

“You’ve always been the biggest piece of shit I’ve ever known, and you’ve only gotten worse since we transferred here.”

Mocking me, his gaze turned sad as he jutted his bottom lip more. “That hurts my feelings.”

“Fuck you.”

“In your wildest dream.”

At that, a blinding rage, only fed by the sexual energy ebbing through my entire body, washed over me. Like a sickening wave of nausea, my anger held to every organ before seemingly forcing me to spew out the contents of energy and emotions that I tried to subdue.

Storming up to my baby-faced friend, I stared at him. His brown eyes only lit up when his gaze found my own. He could sense the change in me and he could see the lust, confusion, hunger and wrath searing there just beneath the surface. Like he was in complete awe of the sight of me, he gave a stupid grin.

Before I was computing what to do next, my hand rose, my palm making full, loud and hard contact with the side of Jungkook’s face. In stunned silence I stood there, waiting to see what his reaction was. I was sure he might want to fight after being slapped so hard. As the red hand print materialized on his right cheek, my eyes searched his face.  

I didn’t have to search long though.

My best friend only smiled back, his eyes shining with all the excitement of a child who was just told he could have a cookie before dinner. “How does it feel?” he whispered to me. “All that coursing through your body, how does it feel?”

Words failed me. In this moment, all I could really do was feel. And it felt like this human body could rip in two any second. This felt like I could spontaneously combust and burn this entire apartment building and reduce it to a pile of ash. It was scary, it was exhilarating—it felt so natural.

“Like torture,” I replied, voice so airy and light and drastically different  

The corner of Jungkook’s mouth lifted in a way that only egged on this current sensation. He was proud of his handiwork. He took a step in my direction, gauging what my reaction would be. When he saw my lack of response, he took three more steps toward me before he stopped.  

Reaching out, his fingers found my neck. Firmly latching onto me, he held me by the back of the neck as his other hand gripped my shoulder. I knew he could feel just how responsive my body was from the moment I walked through the door, but now I’m sure Jungkook was feeling every nerve ending in this body firing away.

But my best friend smiled and nodded. “Do you see what happens when you deny yourself?”

My eyes narrowed, my already irate state looking for any reason to throw another inanimate object at him.

“You deprive your true form and everything is out of whack,” he scolded, though his face was anything but scolding. In fact, he was just smug. “The base instincts we’re all born with have to be indulged in order for us to survive. If we ignore them like you did? Any of those instincts can destroy us, including the human body we use. But,” he gave out a laugh as he looked at me through his eyelashes, “you already knew that.”

My breathing was still erratic as I looked back at my best friend. I could feel his own energy strobing and pulsing back at me. He was obviously affected by my energy and it was only making his dark eyes almost pitch black, a sign that his incubus form was engaged and present.

Taking another step toward me, my best friend’s grip on the nape of my neck and my shoulder didn’t let up. In his reasoning, he had every right to be proud. He’d orchestrated this entire situation and while he probably knew I wouldn’t have sex with Wonho, his speculation was correct. Not only was I unable to reign my succubus form back to where it previously was, I wasn’t able to quell the hunger. I needed to eat and there was no ignoring it now.

Hot tears streamed down my face as I tried my hardest to take control over this shit storm inside of me.  

When Jungkook’s eyes softened, he gave me a small, fragile smile. “I was right about Wonho wasn’t I?”

“I’m so hungry,” I mumbled, looking away from him. My body immediately remembered how delicious his gaze felt over my skin, how succulent and sweet the feeling his fingers buried deep inside of me was. I almost couldn’t breathe. “I need to eat, Jungkook. I need to eat, what do I do?”

Giving me a reassuring smile and squeeze of my shoulders, he pulled me close. “I have an idea.”

That was two weeks ago.

In the span of two weeks I had three exams, two lab reports turned in, six study group meets and about five meals.  

Jungkook at least looked happy to see me eating and even more excited that we were somewhat eating together again, like the old days. The guilt was somewhat easier to deal with when I listened to my succubus form and was even more focused on the reaction the human body provided. But it stayed there in the back of my mind and wasn’t ever truly gone or forgotten. Just muted and tucked into some dark corner.

But despite my active appetite, I didn’t see Wonho once in the last two weeks. I even visited the activity center nearly a week after that disaster of a massage and he was nowhere. I thought of asking around with some of the staff, but the last thing I wanted was for word to get back to him. It would be nothing short of embarrassing to find out he was tipped off that I was looking for him.

The second time I went to see if I could force an accidental run-in, I didn’t even make it past the front doors.  

Even with the quelled appetite and my basic instincts in perfect harmony, there was something terrifying about Wonho. Maybe it was the look in his dark brown eyes, or the way his fingers just curled inside of me so easily, almost as if he knew what it took to bring me to that summit. Either way, I wasn’t sure what this dilemma really was. I was desperate to see him again, but I was also terrified to see him again.

The image of him sucking his shiny and slick fingers that were only seconds prior working me into a whining mess stuck in my brain, no matter how many times I begged my mind to let it go.

But my mind couldn't. It was nearly impossible to truly get my mind to forget him. The sexual tension, created solely by this human was enough to make me go home and have angry sex with my best friend. It'd been years since Jungkook and I did anything of the sort, mainly because it was unneeded. Very rare occasions came up where another incubus or succubus' energy could balance out all of the raw emotions moving through a single form.  

At this point, I wasn’t driven by the deprived and neglected succubus I am. I was driven by sheer meddlesome desire to know something, really anything about the man who awakened the monster within me.

So, instead of forcing myself to find Wonho, I simply gave up looking for him.  

And sure, I could’ve easily asked his workout buddy who also doubled as my best friend and roommate about his whereabouts but…there was something almost too insufferable about a Jungkook who was right about something you were certain he was wrong about.  

I refused to give Jungkook that authority over me.

“Are you going to the block party Friday night?”  

I blinked a couple of times and realized, in that moment, I wasn’t alone and in my room. I was actually in my biology study group and Chanyeol was asking me a question.

“What?”

“The block party, are you going?”

“What block party?”

He laughed as he gave me a look that screamed he was at a loss.

“How do you not know about it?”

“What do you mean?”

“The block party fliers have been everywhere,” Jinyoung stated from his seat across from me, never once looking up from his notes. “Only a blind person would’ve missed it.”

Kicking the table as it slid into his shin, he finally looked up, rubbing his leg.  

Chanyeol seemed to chug along anyway, ignoring Jinyoung and the expression that looked as if he was about to respond. “It’ll be fun. They have music, free food, not free food, face painting, carnival rides. It’s a staple activity for the fall semester. Everybody goes.”

I scrunched my nose with uncertainty. And he seemed to take offense to that.

“Oh come on Y/N! Don’t tell me you’re opposed to fun.”

“Chanyeol, lay off. If she doesn’t want to go, that’s fine,” Jisoo defended. “I’m not going.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Namjoon piped up.

An amused expression colored my face. “So everyone goes?”

He rolled his eyes in reply before shooting a glare in Namjoon's direction. "Mostly everyone at school is there. It's really a lot of fun."

I nodded before shrugging, "I don't know, I'm not really all that into crowds and parties aren't really my thing."

"You live with a chronic partier. How can you even say that?"

The judgmental tone that tacked to that statement made me glare at Jinyoung's bent head as he scribbled something on a notecard.

"Even if I were, I don't think I can go," I tried to reason again. "I have a project check-up due at midnight Friday and I'm nowhere near being done."

"Let me help you," Chanyeol offered.

My eyebrow raised of its own accord. "It's for my psychology class."

"And I'm not a psychology major, but hear me out," he said, holding his hands up as if to hold off any objections I would make. "I'm really good at printing things. I have all of these cool post-it notes and so many highlighters. I also make a mean pot of coffee and my study playlist—no one holds a candle to it."

I laughed despite my want to reject the offer. I hung out with this group at a scheduled time every week for a specific reason. It gave me something to look forward to and it kept my whole life compartmentalized. I hung out with them at the library or local café because that's where we were supposed to hang out. To hang out with them elsewhere seemed like a massive derailing of my coordinated life.  

Yet, nothing seemed to be normal lately. My social life wasn't a cold flatline these days and I was eating in such a regular basis I was sure I was breaking a personal record. So, what was a little change like this?

"Come on," Chanyeol whined childishly. "If you say yes, I can drop by tomorrow, we can get your project finished by Friday."

I wasn't foolish enough to think Chanyeol wanted to help me out of the goodness of his heart. It was clear what this situation was. He really wanted to go to the block party but didn't want to go alone. Why he would go alone when he had a pleasant personality and plenty of friends to choose from was beyond me. With Namjoon and Jisoo both confirming their absence from this staple event at the university, he needed someone else. And no one would even be insane enough to consider asking Jinyoung.

Pursing my lips, I mulled the idea over for what seemed like a split second before I smiled. "Fine, you can meet me at my apartment tomorrow afternoon. But if you forget those highlighters you can see yourself out and go to this thing on Friday without me, okay?"

By the time Friday whirred around, not only was my project check-up more than finished, Chanyeol helped me launch into the middle part of my project. For a guy who wasn't majoring in psychology, he was really helpful with most of my work.  

In fact, he was far more organized than I could ever be and could stay on task, two things I struggled with while doing projects.

That, and the feeling of turning in my assignment way before the due date and time had a satisfying tingle in the pit of my stomach.  

As Friday evening arrived, Jungkook was staring at me impressed.

"I can't believe you're actually going to a social, school-sponsored activity.”

I rolled my eyes as I fidgeted with my bodycon skirt once again. Staring into the full-length mirror, I reassessed my outfit for what felt like the millionth time. It was more borrowed clothes, provided by Jungkook, who seemed to be watching me with some amusement.

"Stop messing with the skirt."

"It's too short."

"It looks fine."

My head smoothly rolled so I could stare at him without turning my body. Taking a peak over my shoulder, I could get a taste of what the skirt looked like from the back and I sighed deeply. "You're only saying that because my ass sticks out."

Cackling, he shrugged. "Is that such a bad thing?"

"It's also tight around the hips."

"The owner of that skirt didn't have much hips."

"Seriously?" I asked incredulously. "How do you even remember?"

He shrugged again, "How do you forget?"

Looking away from my best friend, I pressed my lips together. "It's easier not to remember the details."

When I looked back in Jungkook's direction, he was closer and giving me a knowing glance. "Let's do a shot to kick off the night."

I scrunched my nose. "Why?"

"To get us in the mood for tonight. I plan on eating tonight."

"You ate two nights ago."

"And I'm going back for seconds—just a tiny snack."

Jungkook and I were going to the block party together a few hours before I agreed to meet up with Chanyeol. This was a little fact I hadn't shared with Jungkook yet, but it was a small, insignificant detail at this point.

Before he could say anything else, Jungkook closed the gap between us. In one swift motion, he yanked the hair tie holding my hair in a high ponytail out, throwing it somewhere in the general direction of the couch. When I groaned, Jungkook stepped back and mussed my hair up in the process.

With a stupidly proud expression fixed across his somewhat innocent features, he winked. "You look better with your hair down, trust me."

Three hours later I was with a guy who's name I couldn't remember. No remarkable features stood out about him besides the fact that with his beautiful face, he had the personality of soggy rice. He was bland and I was starting to become bored speaking with him.

To be fair, I would've left this conversation a long time ago but Jungkook bailed on me when he ran into one of his friends from Greek Row. So instead of doubling as my safety blanket and wing man, he was off playing soccer in a field on the other side of the quad. And I was stuck here, listening to this guy fumble through a story about his family vacation to Tokyo.

Asking for another soda seemed to give the impression that I was bored, even if the guy wasn't fully paying attention to me either way. And as I leaned against the food truck, waiting for my soda, I decided to stop looking like I was trying to pay attention. Instead of looking at him as he spoke directly at me, I found my eyes wandering.

The quad was packed with students. So may faces in a sea of bodies and not one distinguishing face came to the foreground of my view. It was fascinating. What was it about this block party that brought students out in droves?

At the question, my eyes immediately caught all the carnival rides in a large field just off campus.  

Oh, I see...

When I mentally checked into the conversation I was supposed to be a part of, it seemed like the guy hadn't missed a beat. I gave a small smile to let him know I was still there, covering up my wavering attention and my wandering eye.  

Looking back at the crowd, I sighed inwardly. I couldn't help but let my mind waft back to a place I didn't want it to go. While I wasn't hungry, having eaten a few nights ago, I was still yearning to reconnect with Wonho. For some sadistic reasons, I suppose. Because I knew reconnecting with him would only be trouble. Our first encounter was torturous enough without the memory of his luscious pink lips shining back at me in a dimly lit room after licking his fingers clean.

God, the sentence alone made me embarrassed and no one else on this Earth knew what happened besides Wonho. I couldn't even bear to think it let alone dare to speak it out into the universe to Jungkook or anyone else.  

My eyes dazed and staring straight through the sprawling crowd before me, I was brought back to the here and now by something pale. Something pale and still. In all of the movement of the sea of faceless people, this pale face was immobile.

I garnered every bit of focus I could to get my eyes to work out the details of the face I was looking at. But no matter how hard I tried, it seemed like my brain was too preoccupied trying to remind me of Wonho.

Lips puffed as I exhaled, the guy I unwittingly saddled myself with as company until I had to meet with Chanyeol picked up the food he ordered from the food truck and even thanked the small elderly woman who served him. At least he had manners—that was something, I guess.

"Did you want to head toward the rides?"

An awkward smile was the first response I could give. "Um, we don't have to. I'm fine waiting over here. We could go look at the soccer game."

"You like soccer?" He asked. It was actually his very first question directed at me.

My shrug was non-committal. "Kind of? I mean, my best friend is playing right now. I thought we could just stop by and see a little bit of it."

"Are you sure you don't want any food? I can cover it."

Part of me was starting to wonder how much he was paying attention to this interaction. How long did he speak without noticing how bored I looked? Also, how long would it take him to realize he never asked if I wanted something to eat?

At that, I looked down at my phone to see the time.

7:54.

Mere minutes away from meeting up with Chanyeol. But those six minutes could've easily been hours with how bored I was of this guy and how sickeningly slow time moved while standing beside him. Despite that we moved closer to the makeshift soccer field right across the parking lot from the carnival rides.

Before I could lament another moment spent with this forgettable man, my eyes zeroed in on a face. A very familiar face at that. A sickeningly familiar face by the carnival rides.

And the worst part?

The face was brazenly staring right back at me. It was as if he was daring me to approach him, goading me into being the first to acknowledge him despite the fact that he seemed to find me first.

For a second it felt like all the air vacated me at once. In that same instance my mouth went dry and my throat gave a familiar scratch.

Did I dare to go near him at this point? I was still too mortified to even formulate an apology for running out of the massage room two weeks ago. Surely going up to him wouldn’t be worth all the humiliation I could feel just standing a foot away from him.

Not to mention the feeling his presence gave me before he even touched me. That sensation of sin his searing gaze gave me was something I couldn’t quite shake. My mind already beaten down with boredom for the last hour, I was desperate for anything to revive me for the night.  

So, a bad decision was made.

“Actually,” I interjected, my eyes not leaving the face that stared back at me, somewhat afraid that if I looked away I would lose him in the mass crowd surrounding. “Let’s go to the rides.”

I didn't look back and I didn't wait for any agreement as my feet stuttered forward.

Weaving a path against the flow of the crowd headed toward the soccer field was a feat in and of itself. The amount of people I bumped, the countless huffs and aggravated sighs—it all was so inconsequential to my overall goal. The glares that followed me and the overall frustration of crossing in front of people who were distracted with food or their friends were ignored.

Once I safely crossed the parking lot, I nearly sprinted toward the sprawling field. What was usually a quiet patch of greenery bordering the campus but considered city property was now bustling with college students. The scent of grilled meat and processed sugar enclosed the entire area as well as buttery popcorn hidden somewhere in the maze of food tents.  

It was just like a fair.

Off to the right were some of the more extreme rides. The Claw. The insane one that dropped you from two stories off the ground. The Sling Shot.

The Ferris wheel, the popular ship ride and a makeshift rollercoaster were all tucked away to the left. I tried desperately to remember where I saw his face, but I couldn't place it in that moment. The level of confusion worsened by the fact that I had little bearing on my surroundings. I was becoming tangled in the crowd. Turning around, I couldn't even find the guy that I spent the last hour with. In short, I was hopelessly disoriented and starting to get pulled with the crowd.

But just when I felt like I could scream at the top of my lungs, an arm latched around me and pulled. The lack of warning only made me squeak, palms balled into fists and ready to attack if the situation called for it.

Confusingly so, when I stared up into that pale face, I wasn't sure if this situation called for me to attack or not.

"Wonho."

"So, you do exist."

I breathed out a response that unfortunately had no sound. His brown eyes scorching a path from my eyes, down the bridge of my nose, over the curve of my lips and to my neck made my inability to vocalize all the worse.

His lips curved up. He must've been so proud. "I was starting to think Jungkook made you up."

Blinking a couple of times, latching onto the use of Jungkook's name to anchor me and help me recover, I nodded. "Jungkook isn't nearly that creative."

An easy laugh drifted over my face as he pulled me forward. "You may have a point there."

Trying to distance myself from him, I pushed off his chest and backed away. I then adverted my gaze, hoping I could avoid eye contact for as long as this exchange would last.

Awkward silence settled in after his statement. While I wasn't comfortable with it, I didn't want to have to go to the next logical point. It was the very crux of why I chickened out trying to find him the few times I attempted it over the last two weeks. Saying sorry—hell, acknowledging what happened in that massage room and having to verbalize the act of running scared was hardly pleasurable.

Besides, it's like what Jungkook always says: We don't apologize. No one deserves it.

My eyes caught another familiar face, waiting by a large cotton candy stand.  

Chanyeol.

An angel. A savior.  

Raising my hand to try to wave him over, I was immediately pulled again, backward this time. My feet hit metal and I stumbled, walking up small steps and onto a platform. It was then I noticed I was being dragged along by Wonho.

Before I knew it, the two of us were stuffed into a car on the Ferris wheel. Eyes wide, I stared at Chanyeol from behind the open-air metal caging, waiting there patiently, contently smiling as he checked his phone for the time. I didn't even have to look at my phone to know it was 8 o'clock exactly. It was time for us to meet up and spend some time at the block party. But here I was, in a car on the Ferris wheel with Wonho.

A new sense of urgency surged forth and I turned back to Wonho. "How long does this thing go?"

"Two times around," he replied simply.

"How fast does it go?"

The screeching of metal grinding together and a painful lurch forward, I realized this would be the slowest Ferris wheel ride of my life. The sly smirk that crept onto Wonho's face didn't go unnoticed and neither did his silent laugh as he looked away from me and up to the perfectly clear sky.

And so, the car began to move as the wheel finally felt like it was firing at full speed, slowly moving us up.

Closing my eyes, I sighed, hoping Chanyeol was patient enough to suffer tardiness at my hands. It was hard to know considering I was never late. No one in our study group was ever late.

Sitting back on the bench provided, I ignored the feeling of a pair of eyes burning a hole through my chest.

"You know, I thought our ice breaker from last time could get us past the awkward stage," Wonho's voice somehow echoed around the open-air car. My eyes slipped open, sliding to glance at him.

"Ice breaker?"

"Yeah."

"I wouldn't call that an ice breaker."

"And what would you call it?"

Suddenly, my throat constricted tightly, refusing to let any sound leave me.

When seconds past without a reply, a warm chuckle wafted around the car and it took everything in me to stay bolted to my spot. The mere laugh was everything I remembered, but somehow so much better. It was as if my memory failed to fill in some of the gaps and didn't quite replicate the sound properly when I replayed our interactions in my memory.

My stomach filled with butterflies at the sound. As if the nerve endings in this human body needed help feeling frazzled.

"You weren't thinking...?" he trailed off amusedly. "I was talking about our mutual friend Jungkook. Do you remember how we talked about how we knew him?"

Instinctively, my eyes narrowed in skepticism. Everything in my body refuted his verbal claim. The way his lips instinctively curved and parted ever so slightly, paired with the subtle sparkle in his eyes as he looked directly at me told me something different.  

He was definitely calling our last interaction an ice breaker.

It was becoming more apparent with each meeting that Wonho was the kind of guy that loved subtext. Everything important was never verbally expressed, but one could easily pick it up if explored deeper. This only made me feel more anxious sitting next to him.

"How've you been?"

As soon as I asked it, I immediately regretted it. The question interrupted the flow of the conversation, like a sudden brick wall in the middle of an abandoned road. I groaned inwardly, but kept my gaze off of Wonho, choosing to commit to this direction change I initiated.

"Interesting."

"What?"

"You."

My attention slowly drifted to him. Peering cautiously at the raven-haired guy, I gave him a quizzical stare.

"Why?"

Those cherry Starburst candy lips caught my attention, still curved into a smile that screamed I was in some kind of trouble.

"Are you sure you don't have anything to say to me? Anything you left unsaid the last time we saw each other?"

The lump in my throat swelled and I swallowed thickly. "I'm not sure what you mean?"

"You left so quickly, I'm sure you had so much more to say."

His eyes gave me a deceptive sense of security, somehow conveying innocence as well as all the control in this conversation. Wonho knew what he was doing by bringing this up in conversation, but he was equally impressive at looking so clueless and coincidental in bringing up my sprint from the massage room.

Giving out another soft laugh, looking down bashfully.

Bashfully.

"I've been fine. Just a little curious about the girl I met two weeks ago," he said. "How've you been?"

"Fine."

The response might've been too rapid.  

"It's been a long two weeks."

I blinked and hummed back in response.

"Where've you been hiding?"

"I haven't been hiding."

"Sure you have," he replied, his grin only growing. "I've been looking for you all over campus."

I didn't know whether to let that comment slide or slap him. Everything was becoming so muddled in my emotional response and not to mention how my stomach fluttered uncomfortably at the knowledge that he was trying to find me.

"You could've asked Jungkook."

"I guess you're right," he said, his voice thoughtful and somewhat subdued from before. "But that's no fun."

The car was only getting smaller the higher we rose and the further along we got in the conversation. "Who cares about fun when you're trying to find someone?"

My reply only made Wonho laugh, the sound still affecting me more profoundly than before. Every time the sound hit me was like the first time somehow.

"What I mean to say is, you come off as a girl who likes a good chase."

"What makes you say that?"

Wonho leaned closer to me, his dark eyes only seemingly darker and more serious than they were just a few seconds ago.

"You're a girl who likes to run when she starts feeling anything remotely new—when she's doing something she knows she shouldn't enjoy, but does," he whispered, breath sticking to the shell of my ear and to the skin at the right side of my face. He was so close at this point, I could feel his body heat over the autumn chill. "You ran the last time we were together. You've been running from me for two weeks. You're a runner."

He was calling me out. In the middle of this Ferris wheel ride, Wonho was taking this opportunity to call me out for running after he fingered me in the massage room. And while he may not have known how many times I visited the activity center, counting the time I couldn't even make it past the front door, he already knew the most basic fact about me.

Sliding closer to me, Wonho's arm slipped around my waist, pulling my body closer. Unlike any man I've ever encountered, his free hand gripped around my chin, forcing me to actually stare at him. When his fingers stopped applying the slight pressure from when he initially gripped my chin, he stared, searching my face.

"Why are you like that?" he asked quietly.

There seemed to be some genuine need to know. Judging by the way his voice quieted down, how his breathing was only slower than it was before, the look in his eyes—all of it was genuine. At least that was the feeling I was picking up in this moment.

Instead of answering and possibly setting myself up in a vulnerable position, I decided to shift the attention away from me with a question of my own.

"Why were you looking for me?"

"The same reason you were looking for me," he said, eyes drifting closed.

Almost too immediate and too honest, Wonho gave me a response that only made me feel more vulnerable.

"And what reason would that be?"

"You don't know why you came to the activity center to find me?"

A cold sensation washed over me at the realization that Wonho knew I came looking for him. Those two times I stomached enough courage to walk all the way across campus, out of the way of my apartment, the library and all the other buildings I actually used, he knew. That means he watched as I searched the cardio room and the weight room and the pool on my first try, not daring to voice my true intentions to any of the staff members asking if I needed help finding something.  

More embarrassing than that, he must've seen me hovering in front of the entrance my second time, my courage faltering so fast that I never entered.

He knew this entire time and didn't come to meet me or see me. It made me feel so stupid.

The chill tingled down my spine at such a slow but deliberate speed, making this Ferris wheel ride feel like it was going even slower than before.

Wonho was smirking when my eyes caught his facial expression.

"You know, I could always help you remember," he said, voice so even it made me terrified he was serious.

This body's heart rate began to race, giving me the impression this organ would burst from my chest and run off. But I couldn't find my ability to speak, lost somewhere in the realization that my secret attempts to find Wonho weren't lost on him.

Frustration was mounting. It was slowly replacing the embarrassment I was feeling and filling me with a sense of indignancy. Wonho must've thought I was some stupid girl who got high off of my emotions and would turn to jello at nearly anything. While I hadn't done much in the way of dispelling any of those misconceptions, it lit a fire in me.

"What makes you think I need or want the reminder?" I asked, my voice soft and only slightly unsteady.

He shrugged his broad shoulders, eyes finally shifting to look at the expansive scenery. We were nearing the top and I couldn't be sure if this was the first revolution or the second.  

"I just have a feeling," he stated, matching the volume of my voice.

"A feeling?"

"It's the same feeling I got from you after that massage."

My whole body tensed at the mention of the massage. Wonho threw it out so casually without even a second thought.  

"And what was that?"

Wonho left no room for pause or hesitation as he immediately answered right after I asked the question. "That I wanted to try more with you."

"Try what?"

"Everything."

I could hear the gasp way before I could feel it happening. It was shaky and long and low. Probably something that sounded so close to one of the many gasps I let out the last time we saw each other.  

His index finger curled under my chin, lifting my gaze so I was staring down his brown eyes. I had no idea what to say or what to do at this point except stare back. Words were failing me and my mind was wrapping around the vague response. What did he mean by everything?

His face moved close, breath hitting my cheek as he tilted his mouth closer to me. Barely gazing along my cheekbone, his lips began to move as he whispered in my ear.

"And something tells me there's a lot you'd let me do."

Like an answered prayer, the slow ride came to a screeching halt when the metal cage door popped open mechanically. Without much response other than my wide eyes and silence to his whispered statement, I darted. For the second time, I was running away from Wonho and somehow, I justified it in the moment as me not wanting to be any later meeting up with Chanyeol than I already was. That seemed far more valiant or even more digestible than to admit I was running away from the sensations and the feelings easily resurfacing in Wonho's presence.

I quickly bolted off of the platform and circled around to the front row of food tents, hoping Chanyeol was in the same spot I last saw him, our designated meeting place.

On my way there, I bumped a few people which elicited apologies from me. The more I apologized, the more lost I became in the crowd. So much so, I nearly missed the meeting spot had I not bumped into a solid body.

"Whoa there," the body said.

My wild eyes glanced up and to my relief it was just Chanyeol, the guy who patiently waited while I went on a Ferris wheel ride with Satan himself.

Letting out a satisfied breath, I held onto my study group partner for dear life before laughing lightly. "Sorry I'm late."

"You seemed to bust ass trying to get here, so I can let it slide," he joked, backing away from me and nodding toward the cotton candy stand. "You owe me a bundle though."

"You're very easy."

He shrugged with a laugh, "I'm just a little confused as to what to do—the girl who's always early was late."

"Shut up or I'm buying you nothing."

As Chanyeol turned to pick out the cotton candy bundle he wanted, I felt the smile slip off of my face as I buried my face in my hands.  

Who the fuck is Wonho?

What the fuck is Wonho?

Masterlist

[littlemisskookie]

Tantalizing: 05

Tantalizing: 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 Ship: Jungkook | Reader Description: Back in high school, you were nothing more than a nerd Jungkook wanted to deflower, to get a good fuck from. When he sees you at the club, though, things have changed drastically, and his dominance starts to teeter on the edge. Warning: Sub!Jungkook, Sex Toys, Degrading Names, Choking, Spanking, Slight BDSM, Handjob, Oral, Orgasm Denial, Exhibitionism, Fingering, Gagging, Blinfolding, Slight Violence? Slight Angst? Word Count: 7,599

Jungkook had texted you profusely after the incident, which you insisted was fine. Taehyung, on the other hand, teased the boy relentlessly, wondering if that was the girl that had driven the maknae crazy. Jungkook guiltily admitted it was, and Taehyung simply laughed and apologized that he interrupted, but went on to tell how he dry humped the hot chick at the bar in the back of the car.

Now it had been days since the incident, and it seems that Jimin and Taehyung had mutually decided to incessantly tease the boy about his crush on you. Jungkook walked into the kitchen around 9 PM, and Taehyung and Jimin were both simply talking.

When Taehyung saw Jungkook, he immediately made a motion with his hand, imitating the act of jacking off. He whined, throwing his head back and taking shallow gasps. "I want you to call me a dirty boy and-"

Jimin swatted him before he could continue, but was laughing so hard his face was turning red. "Don't tease the boy! He's had enough," Jimin insisted, though his smile was so big his eyes looked like lines.

"You were laughing too!" Taehyung accused, giving a box-shaped smile.

Jungkook was seething, taking the ribbing from his friends without a word. He was pissed, though, since they still hadn't gotten over the scene. His cheeks burned with embarrassment and anger, but he simply glared at Taehyung. He reached into their refrigerator, grabbing an apple and chomping down on it, letting the flavor sit on his tongue.

He's been having a rough day so far. With Taehyung's continuous ribbing and the frustration from the homework he had to finish before his next class, he was but an inch away from blowing up.

"Didn't you fuck that bitch behind the bar or something, though?" Taehyung asked. "Jimin said you got some older chick, from the looks of it. So that means you're not in love with this girl, right?"

"If you must know, I walked out on her," Jungkook muttered, chewing on the bit of apple. "Didn't feel right. Wasn't doing it for me."

Taehyung's eyes widened in surprise. "You're joking! Dude, you're getting monogamous all of the sudden? You know this bitch you're hung up on is probably sleeping with ten other guys if her pussy's that good."

Jungkook's nostrils flared, and he gritted his teeth. "I don't think so, hyung."

"But it's probably true!" Taehyung exclaimed. "I mean, honestly, they're all the same. She's probably just using you, you know, and you're becoming hung up on her. She might think of you as a fuck buddy at most, but who's to say she isn't having flings on the side? I mean, you're like, head over heels, and she might not even give two shits. She could be fucking someone else right now, for all we know."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Jungkook snapped, clenching his jaw.

Taehyung noticed the tone he used, and he narrowed his own eyes. "Don't get an attitude, Kook. You know this shit happens. Hell, you've done it, so what's the difference if a girl does it? I'm just telling you the truth. I mean, do you know anything about this girl? You don't even know her name from what you told me. Did she agree to monogamy with you?"

Jungkook was silent at that.

Taehyung gave him a told you so look. "See? Bitches are the same, but it's not like you can say anything about it. You weren't better, and who gives a shit who's sleeping with who? It's all just a bit of fun. I'd say use her up as much as you can before she eventually gets bored of you."

"Shut up," Jungkook murmured, his tone dangerous and his eyes piercing into Taehyung's.

Tae's brows jumped, and he got the message that he had angered the maknae a bit more than necessary. Jimin wore a worried expression, and nervously chuckled, "Hey, guys, let's not get to rough housing right now, alright? Tae, maybe you could've said that a bit better... But Jungkook, you know he has a point... you hardly know this girl. It's unlikely she's devoted to you."

"You shut the fuck up too!" Jungkook snapped, slapping his hand against the countertop. "You don't know anything, alright? She's not just some bitch, and you can't call her that, am I clear? You've never met her, and I hope you never do. But she isn't some random slut."

Taehyung's face was stoic. "Jungkook. Calm down, buddy. It's no big deal."

And that's what set him off. Jungkook squeezed the apple in his hand, the bite marks on the fruit pressing into the palm of his hand, and he threw it at Taehyung. The apple slapped against his face, hitting him squarely in the nose, and Jungkook regretted it immediately.

"Fuck!" Taehyung exclaimed, crumbling down to the floor, holding his nose with both of his hands. The apple had fallen to the floor, rolling to the side, and Jimin was worriedly freaking out, trying to examine Tae's nose. Taehyung raised one hand from his nose to in front of his eyes, and blood was smeared against his long fingers.

"Shit," Jungkook mumbled to himself, feeling awful already. He regretted it already, and now he had a shocked expression on his face. "Hyung, I'm sorry, I-"

"Just leave me fucking be," Taehyung hissed, the words muffled slightly from him still holding his nose, the blood dripping down into spots on the tile floor. "You've done enough."

Jimin glanced up apologetically at Jungkook, who's expression was stone and stoic. "I... I think you ought to go so that we can all cool off. You understand, right Jungkook?"

Jungkook's eyes met Taehyung's icy stare, and he gulped. "Yeah... I understand."

Jungkook left without a word, grabbing his phone and jacket, slipping on his shoes, and heading out. He didn't know where to go, or what to do, but he was so full of pent up frustration and energy he knew he needed to let off some steam

And so he texted you.

JK: r u free 2 meet up??

Your response is immediate.

I'm eating Chinese takeout with my roomies, but I'm free. What's the problem?

Jungkook let out a breath of relief.

JK: I need to let off some steam. Care to help?

Sure. But I don't think I can go to your place anymore, and my roomies are here right now. How about we meet near a hotel?

JK: Perfect

Let me send you the location of where the hotel is. I'll meet you there at 10 PM

Jungkook's phone buzzed as you sent him the location of a popular love hotel. It pops up on his screen and isn't far, plus it happens to be cheap. He knew he couldn't take you to his place, especially since he fucked up with Taehyung. This would be a better solution, staying at a hotel.

His eyes flickered up to the time, and he noticed it was 9:30. He had time to meet you. But one thought kept flashing through his head.

If you were willing to ditch your roommates for him, surely he was more than one of your many fucks.

He bit his lip in nervousness as he walked towards his car.

Right?

Jungkook's chest seemed to swell as you walked into the lobby, a backpack swung on your side, and you were wearing a pretty sundress. Your eyes scanned the lobby, landing on the boy, who sat up from the chair and greeted you with a smile.

"Hey," you greeted, giving him a slight smirk. "You feeling okay, Kookie? You surprised me with that text."

"Hm?" His expression melted from elated to confused but was once again reminded of what happened but a few minutes earlier, and he frowned. "Bad day... I just need something to blow off steam and keep my mind off things."

A smile tugged at your lips. "Don't worry, I'll make sure you've got your mind preoccupied. Just be a good boy and follow my commands. Tonight's about you." With those words, you winked flirtatiously at the boy.

Jungkook, on the other hand, could only focus on the jolt of electricity that jotted down his spine and down to his crotch, and he briefly worried his erection would find a way to poke through his jeans, which no one wanted to see. Except maybe you, since you seemed so kinky.

"I have our key," Jungkook mentioned, taking the small plastic card from his pocket and dangling it before you. You simply glanced at it and nodded, and you two passed by to go to your room.

The elevator opened, and the two of you stepped inside, Jungkook pressing the button for the floor the third from the top. The two of you were in silence, watching the doors close shut, and you two were alone in the elevator. You carefully placed your backpack down on the floor.

Once the door closed, you closed in on Jungkook, grabbing at the collar of his shirt and smashing his lips against yours. His eyes widened, in shock since you literally ran away the last time the two of you kissed. But he melted into it, kissing the lush petals of your lips, your lips joined in a feverish, hot, and passionate battle with his.

Jungkook broke away, panting for air as you leaned against him, your back against his chest and your ass rubbing against his erection in tantalizing circles. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, and his breaths were heavy.

"I thought you didn't like kissing," he murmured. "You ran away last time." As soon as the words escaped his lips, he regretted it, feeling your body slightly tense against his.

You shook your head. "I was just surprised that day. I like kissing you, Kookie. Besides, tonight's about you." He opened his mouth to say something else, but you simply looked up at him, reaching over to his face and guiding it towards yours, your back still flushed against his chest as his neck craned to press his lips firmer to yours. He forgot everything in that moment, closing his eyes, until he felt your hand grab his, guiding it past your heavenly breasts and down under the sundress you were wearing.

His fingers hiked your skirt up, pressing his nimble fingers to your heat, only to realize you weren't wearing any underwear. Jungkook's breath hitched, and you giggled in response, letting his eager fingers begin to press to your folds, feeling the wetness and warmth of your pussy. His fingers spun around your clit, rubbing it in tiny circles that had your knees slightly buckle and mewls escape your lips, only to be muffled by his own.

Your fingers crept up to his locks, slightly tugging them to pull him closer to you, and his fingers began diving into your heat, palm digging into your core.

And as quickly as you pulled him in you pushed him away, tugging his hand away from your heat and stepping away from him, smoothening your dress and fixing your hair quickly. Jungkook was about to make a whine of protest before the elevator doors opened and in stepped an elderly couple, who greeted you two with sweet smiles as they shuffled in. Jungkook's face flushed with embarrassment with the realization that these two could've been caught, lips pressed together, and your legs spread wide open, his fingers plunged into your heat and dress hiked up for anyone to catch the view.

You smiled to the couple, exchanging greetings with them as they pressed the button for three floors above the one you were currently on, and you still had about five more floors to get to before you were finally in your hotel room.

Jungkook stopped breathing the moment you stood in front of him, back turned to him to speak with the elderly couple as you blocked his erection (though trapped in his jeans) from them, hiding him in the corner of the elevator, opposite from them. The reason he stopped breathing, however, is when you held your hands behind your back, creeping one up to palm his erection. He did whatever he could to restrain the hiss he was sure would slip past his gritted teeth, and he didn't have to look at you to know you plastered some sort of wicked smile on your face.

"Ah, are you two visiting some friends on that floor?" you asked politely, using a sweet and soft voice to the couple. It was the same one you used to coax Jungkook gently, on those rare instances that ultimately convinced him to bend to your will.

"Oh yes, we're staying here because it's cheap, and our friends are visiting Korea for the first time," the woman nodded, her smile gummy and the wrinkles on her face deepening with her cute smile.

Your hand was pressing harder against his erection, rubbing it in tantalizing circles that made his eyes wide as he tried to figure out a way to not seem so obvious or nervous in front of these elders.

"Oh? First time? Are they foreign?" you inquired.

The man laughed. "No. In fact, they're from England. They're friends I made back when I was a transfer student there, in my college days, and we've kept in touch through vacations there ever since."

"England!" you exclaimed in delight. Your sneaky fingers started unzipping the zipper of his jeans. Luckily he didn't feel the need to wear a restricting belt today, or it would've been a lot harder. "My, what was that like?"

"I'll tell you," the woman laughed. "Cold as shit!"

Your eyes widened, but you broke out in a laugh at the old woman's blunt reply. The old man swatted the wife's arm, and she cooed at him that you were a darling girl who probably didn't mind cursing. With that, their stop had finally arrived, and they departed from the elevator, waving a friendly goodbye to you. You waved back, a sweet smile on your face, but as soon as the doors closed once again, you turned to Jungkook, taking his shirt and slamming him to the other wall of the elevator, shoving your hand through his pants and boxers to wrap your hands around his dick, pumping him furiously.

"Did you like having your dick played with in front of that elderly couple?" you laughed, standing on your tip toes and catching his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging it back a before letting it retract back. "You got harder by the minute."

Jungkook only moaned in response, your hand getting coated in his precum, and you quickly yanked down the waistband to reveal his erect member. You winked at him, sinking down quickly to sink down on his length, letting him jump in surprise at the feeling as you laid your tongue flat against his dick, staring up at him with feigned innocence. Jungkook's eyes were wide, and he gasped in shock at the feeling of your lips wrapped around his length. This was the first time you so much as serviced him, putting your mouth on him, and your control was once again reminded. His pleasure was in your hands, and he could be greatly rewarded if he did things right.

And just as quickly you got back up, grabbing your backpack, facing towards the elevator doors as they opened to reveal your floor, and Jungkook hastily yanked his pants back up, cramming his dick back into his pants and scuffling after you as you exited the elevator. He fished out the key, quickly pushing the plastic card into the slot in the door. It clicked, a green light flashing, and he hastily jiggled the door knob, opening the door and rushing into the room.

You, on the other hand, countered his eager pace, striding in with ease, your backpack swinging a bit in your clutch. You walked straight into the bedroom, your eyes not even scanning over the rest of the small room, and you threw your bag on the bed, turning back to Jungkook with your arms crossed, a steely glare, and a devious smirk plastered over your lips.

"I bought a few more items the other night, actually," you murmured. "I think you'll like them. Did you bring anything?"

Jungkook's cheeks flushed. "I... I didn't think to. Sorry."

You shrugged. "That's fine, I bought enough. Some of it isn't far from things you've tried out, so you should be comfortable with the use. And there's some other things you'll enjoy a lot, I believe."

As though you were reminded of something, your smirk twisted into something sinister, and you unzipped your backpack, taking out something small and black, but held it behind your back, staring at Jungkook expectantly. Your eyes lit up with mischievousness as well as lust, and you had one command. "Strip."

Jungkook's breathing stilled, but he found himself stripping anyway, your gaze scanning every nook and cranny of his body until he was bare before you. His cock seemed to point at you, angry and red, and Jungkook waited for your next demand.

You held out your hands, showing something. A black collar.

You paid careful attention to Jungkook's expression, examining his reaction to the article. "Don't think of it as being my pet, Jungkook. I'm not going to put you on a leash, and you're much more than a simple pet to me. Think of it as more of a fashion article." You laughed at the last part. "So will you wear it?"

Jungkook looked at it, knowing this small thing would do much more that any degrading name you could call him. This marked him, degraded him without words, and showed exactly who was who. It was a wordless understanding that would burn into his skin during the process and showed how you were his superior.

He nodded.

You smiled in satisfaction, eyes glittering at him in the way they would had an enemy finally surrendered. The look of a winner. "Good boy," you purred. "Let me put it on you." He nodded, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He closed his eyes, feeling your skillful hands wrap the collar around the column of his throat. It felt silky and snug, the small metal loop in front being the only thing that really made it different from some fancy choker.

"You look so pretty, Kookie," you say absentmindedly. "I like this look on you."

"Thank you," Jungkook said sheepishly, his words quiet and polite.

The coy smile on your lips faded away as you got serious. "Things are going to play out a little differently tonight, and you're going to need a safeword."

Jungkook turned to you, his eyes a bit wide, and he was shocked. "Why? I mean... what makes this time so different? What are you planning?"

Your gaze was serious. "This is up to you, but I'm not going to do this without your consent. I'm not doing anything without your consent, actually. We can stop anytime you want, and you can tell me whenever you feel uncomfortable, and it's always been that way, but I'll make it clear this time."

"So what is it this time that makes you think I'll need a safeword?"

"How do you feel about choking?"

The question stunned him, and he blinked in confusion. "As in... you choking me?"

You nodded, confirming it. "I know that the female orgasm is more intense when being choked, and I was curious about if it would work the same way for boys. I did some research, but obviously, it's not like people have so much of a record for that as they do for men. But, there was one source that confirmed it, and I want to test out if it's true. And who else would help me than you?"

Jungkook's chest swelled, and he felt as though he was reminded that he was special. You could ask anyone if you were really sleeping around, but you weren't, you were asking him. That had to mean you were only with him at the moment, right?

"I'm... I'm open to it," Jungkook said. "Is that the only thing I have to be worried about?"

"That's the worst, believe me. Everything else isn't nearly as extreme," you assured him, calming his nerves. He trusted you. He knew you wouldn't dare step outside boundaries with him. After all, he had already trusted you with pictures and secrets of the things he let you do to him. "So, can you come up with a word?"

He thought for a moment. "Martini."

You quirked a brow. "Why martini?"

He glanced up at you nervously. "That was the drink I had when I met you for the first time."

Your eyes slightly widened at the fact he remembered that detail, but you masked it with mild disinterest. "Alright. Just feel free to use it whenever you feel uncomfortable. I still want you to feel safe."

Jungkook's chest felt warm at the thought you cared for him so much.

"Also, a signal. If you are unable to speak, I want you to come up with a signal so that I know when to stop," you held up a V sign or peace sign. "Might I recommend this? It'd be simple."

Jungkook nodded, and you winked. "Now, for the fun to begin."

Jungkook smiled at that, and you grinned as well your voice teasing. "Now, lay down on the bed. I'll suck you off for being so good in the elevator, but if you do so much as whimper or moan, you're going to be punished. Am I understood?"

"Yes, I understand," Jungkook said, excited as he crawled over on the bed, laying down, his erection entirely exposed to you.

You smiled, crawling between his legs and taking his length in your hand. He didn't make a sound, but from the way he clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth, he really wanted to. You seemed to be particularly pleased whenever he was loud, crying out to the heavens and the sins you'd have him perform when the next morning his mouth was dry and throat sore, and he felt much better every time he managed to satisfy your needs.

Usually, when he got a blowjob, he felt completely in power, free to use whatever's slut mouth however he pleased. Now, the tables had turned, and he understood with your steel-like grip and dark eyes that you had complete power, free to bend him to your will and use him for your obscene fantasies and his as well. You knew he'd do whatever he could to please you, and God, how much he wanted to please you.

"Repeat after me," you said clearly. "My pleasure is controlled by you."

"My pleasure is controlled by you," Jungkook repeated, staring you in the eye.

You smirked. "Good boy. Now, not one sound or I could easily change that pleasure into pain. Nod if you understand."

Jungkook nodded, and his eyes bugged out of his head as you immediately wrapped your lips around him, sinking down on him and sucking as hard as you could. Jungkook started clawing at the sheets, not daring to so much as touch a hair on your head as you did your ministrations on him, in fear of making you stop. His face was going red, and he started clawing at the pillows of the bed, gripping them with a vicious grip, threatening to tear it into shreds as you started bobbing your head.

His eyes were practically rolling to the back of his head, and he bit down hard on his fist, trying to muffle any sound each time the tip hit the back of your throat. He wondered how many blowjobs you gave, since before he couldn't even imagine you doing something like this for someone else. But everything about you was strange. You never really were in for pleasure for yourself, at least not physically. Jungkook had to coax you into it last time.

The way you hollowed your cheeks, letting him hit the really soft spot in the back of your throat, how your hand would run up and down his length with your mouth, and the way your other hand cradled his balls, Jungkook couldn't stand it. Your eyes would flutter shut or bat at up at him with feigned innocence, and your lips were so pretty, wrapped around his cock with such alluring captivity. How your ass was high up as you stooped over his length, the view absolutely stunning in his opinion.

The smallest of whimpers slipped through his lips.

At once you stopped, pulling off of him completely, a line of spit from his throbbing dick from your lips splitting as you shot up, precum and spit over your lips and chin. You wiped it off, giving him an angry look, narrowed eyes and furrowed brows.

"What did I say?" you hissed. Jungkook's eyes widened, and he said nothing as you started crawling over him until your arms and legs were on either side of him, and you were on top of him, your face millimeters from his. "Kookie, I asked you a question. Answer it."

"Not to make a sound," Jungkook whispered, his eyes staring up into yours, waiting in fear for what his punishment would be.

Your sneer twisted into a smile. "That's right. And you couldn't do that, could you? You know what that means, right?"

"I get punished," Jungkook answered.

"That's right... Now, go face the wall, lean against it, perhaps, and spread your legs. It'll hurt, but you're a big boy, you can handle it." Your tone was disinterested as you rolled off of him, going through your backpack, and you pulled out a piece of sheer, lacy red panties. "Oh, and we'll involve these as well. I don't want them to hear your screams through these thin walls, you understand. But if you need to use your safe word, go ahead and spit them out and tell me. Otherwise, keep them in."

Jungkook's eyes widened as he realized what you wanted to do. Sure, it was always a turn on to stuff the girl's panties into her own mouth as he fucked her, but never before had he had them crammed in his own mouth.

Your eyes danced across his figure as he started to slip off the bed to get ready. "Would you like to know what happened to these?" you asked him. "I took them off in the middle of the Uber ride here, they were so soaked and ruined I was scared I'd ruin the seat, and the driver had a nice car, I have to admit. You ruined me with just having me imagine you, Kookie, so I slipped these off in the middle of the ride to surprise you perhaps. Do you like the thought of that? You seemed to really like it when you realized I wasn't wearing any underwear. Maybe I'll keep them off more often around you."

Jungkook's mouth watered, and you proceeded to creep closer to him, stuffing the panties in his mouth and gently nudging him to the wall. It tasted just like your arousal, and Jungkook was sure whatever you had in store for him would be muffled with these. Jungkook walked to the wall with hesitancy, taking a deep breath before pressing his palms flat against the wall for support, and spreading his legs for your accommodations. God, this was humiliating, and at the same time, it was absolutely riveting.

He was surprised when you put something across his eyes, a ribbon, and tied it tightly around his head as a blindfold. Once it was secure and you tugged at it for good measure, he heard your footsteps as you stepped back, admiring your work.

"Look at you, all spread out for me, ass hanging out and utterly shameless. You're like a painting on display, waiting to be bought."

The words shot down Jungkook's spine like electricity, and he shivered at your words.

And then he felt a sharp, quick blow on his rear, and realized you had spanked him. His yelp was swallowed in the fabric of your panties. The feeling of your palm on his ass stung, and he leaned on the wall, ducking his head.

You snickered. "I told you to obey my orders, and this is your punishment. You understand what happens now, don't you?"

Jungkook nodded, tears leaking from his eyes and slipping from under the blindfold, and you were silent for a few seconds, obviously noticing the way he seemed to sob quietly from the pain.

"Do you want more?"

Jungkook begrudgingly nodded again and was once again struck. He whimpered at the feeling, the stinging pain giving him an odd sense of satisfaction. It reminded him of nails raking down his back or bite marks on his collar. The ones that told him he was doing something right, that made him hiss in delight. He was struck again, and a low groan escaped.

You spanked him three more times, making it six in total so far. "Do you like this? Like some sort of sick masochist? Do you like being punished the way you deserve?"

He nodded eagerly, receiving two more sharp blows. He was sure his ass was bright red by now since you spared no mercy when swatting him, each hit getting harder and harder. Still, he felt no need to use the safeword. Part of him was enjoying it too much.

"That's what I like so much about you, Kookie," you laughed. "You're always so honest."

You gave him one more spank, letting your hand rest there to sooth the pain, and giving him one more blow. He leaned against the wall for support, taking deep breaths through his nose, fat tears escaping his eyes, and he relished at how they rolled down his cheeks, warm and salty.

"Keep crying those pretty little tears, let me see how much you want me."

You spanked him once again for the last time, hearing the quiet gasp though it was muffled by the panties you used as a gag.

"Have you learned your lesson?"

Jungkook nodded with such vigor you laughed, untying the ribbon around his eyes, and slipping out the fabric caught between his teeth. You smiled, giving him a rewarding kiss that he melted into, letting himself inhale your scent to distract himself of the tingling and burning pain in his rear.

"You did well, Kookie," you purred, staring up at him as you pulled away from the kiss, much to his dismay. "Such a good boy. Would you like your reward now?"

Jungkook's pleading look made you laugh, and you pushed him onto the bed, ordering him to lie down. He was perfectly still, and you dragged out some more ribbons from your backpack, quirking a brow as though you were asking a question. Jungkook's eyes followed your eyes to his wrists, and he understood at once what you wanted to do to him.

"Yes," he breathed softly.

You moved in, carefully tying his wrists to the headboard of the bed, keeping them so tightly bound he knew there would be no way he'd be able to undo the tight knots and patterns without your help. Before long both of his hands were tied tightly to the bed, and he was entirely at your disposal. He watched how you hungrily licked your lips at the sight, like how a predator views its prey.

Your eyes were blank, and you grabbed something else from the backpack. A small, vibrator. You turned it on the highest setting, and pressed it firmly against his dick, rubbing it against his shaft as he moaned out, sputtering curse words.

"You look so pretty like this, tied up like a Christmas present, waiting to be opened. I wish I tied the ribbons tighter, so that your veins would pop out from under your skin. You look so hot and bothered, and you're still sobbing like the little bitch you are. But I'll teach you a lesson from what you did with another person without me. You're my bitch, and mine alone, and I don't care if I have to prove it; I'll make you my bitch."

His eyes widened at the fact you mentioned it, and you noticed his surprise, pressing the vibrator firmer against him in a way that had him biting his lip and tugging against his restraints, begging to either touch or be touched.

You quirked a brow. "I've been thinking about it, Kookie. You think I'll forgive you that easily for sleeping with another woman?"

"N-No," Jungkook whimpered, his eyes trained on how you rolled the vibrator up and down his shaft, his toes curling. "I-I'm sorry, I really am."

"Was her pussy tight? Did you feel good? Was she just some random slut? Was she pretty?" you asked, removing the vibrator from his length, watching as he bucked his hips into the air for any type of contact.

"N-No, she wasn't anything compared to you," he confessed in short gasps. "I walked out on her, p-please."

"Please what?"

"Please touch me," he sobbed quietly, more tears rolling from his eyes, though they weren't the fat ones. They were the type that trickled from the corner of your eye when you laid down on your side. He wanted so badly to have relief, to touch you, for you to touch him. Fuck!

"I don't think you deserve it," you murmured softly. "Do you? Couldn't you go to some other random slut to dump your load in her?"

"N-No, I only want you. Only you, I swear," Jungkook insisted, staring at you pleadingly. You gave him a disinterested look, only reaching over to wipe away the tear on his cheek.

"That's a lie, I'm sure. I'd bet you spout that to nearly any girl that's willing to listen, hm?" you asked softly, your voice far away. "Maybe I should leave you like this, all tied up, stark naked save for that collar on your throat. Would you like to be found like that? Your cock probably still hard like the horny bitch you are, and for housekeeping to walk in and see you like that? I'm sure you'd deserve it, Kookie."

"Please," Jungkook pleaded in shudders. "F-Fuck, I want you. I-I need you, in me, on me, touching me. I need your- F-Fuck!"

His eyes seemed to roll to the back of his head, and he let out a guttural moan, throwing his head back as you pressed the vibrator against him firmly, placing it in the palm of your hand and giving him a handjob, straddling his hips, your ass teasingly pressing against his erection as you gave him the handjob behind your back. Jungkook felt as though he was going to explode.

"Don't you dare fucking cum," you hissed at him, quickening your pace around his precum covered cock, the vibrations sending chills throughout his body. "You're close, aren't you? You won't fucking cum, not without my permission."

Jungkook tried to keep his mind on other things. Church- wait no, he could not think about church in this situation. About kneeling in those pew and such, no, stop that. The pews. His mind wandered to Star Wars, and the pew pew sound the guns would make in there. And- ah fuck!

He was so close, he jolted to sit up, having you slide down to where your ass was pressing directly against his cock and your hand. He moaned out, biting his lip, but managed to hold it in, not yet undone.

You stopped for a moment, slipping your hand away for a second to straddle his legs instead, this time your crotch brushing against his cock. Your pelvis rubbed against it, and you began your furious pace with the vibrator pressed against his dick again.

Jungkook was a sweaty mess, bangs plastered to his forehead, and lips swollen and red, the same shade as the head of his dick. He leaned in, biting your shoulder, and felt the ribbons tug his arms back where they were behind him. His teeth sunk down into your shoulder as he tried hard not to cum, but not one word of a complaint slipped from your lips, and you instead moved your other, unoccupied hand to his throat, pressing two fingers above the collar and below the jaw, and against the two pressure points.

His breath was restricted as you squeezed enough to stop the flow of oxygen to his lungs, and your fingers carefully pressed against the arteries in the column of his throat. Oxygen stopped getting to his brain, but he absentmindedly bucked himself into your vibrating hand, his vision getting a bit blurrier and his face turning a bit redder.

"Cum," you commanded, releasing his throat and letting the oxygen slam back into his lungs. Streams of his cum started spouting from his cock as he started shaking from the orgasm, intense and powerful as the oxygen flowed back into his lungs. He was shaking, and he collapsed, his arms still tied, and his chest rising and falling. The cum was all over the bed, and some landing on either one of you, but neither of you cared.

You smirked deviously, watching as he gracefully fell from his high, turning off the vibrator and tossing it to the bed. "I think that went pretty well, don't you Kookie?"

"Fuck yes," he gasped aloud. "God... I've never... shit."

You snickered at him, reaching over to untie him. "I watched multiple videos on how to tie these, you know. I had to practice on my roommate and managed to convince her it was just in case we had to capture a robber and keep him there for the police. I'm pretty sure that my other roommate knew it was for something kinky, though."

"What made you decide on the ribbons?" Jungkook asked, one hand free, and the blood flowing back to the limb causing him to have a buzzing, tingling feel in the hand.

"Ropes and leather and such seemed too... hardcore? I didn't like them. Ribbons seem playful and more elegant I suppose, and you looked awfully nice as a present," you winked at him playfully, undoing the second hand. "By the way, how'd the choking thing work out? I had to look up how to do it, and tutorial videos. I was scared to death of killing you, I'll be honest, but it seemed to work out."

"It was intense," Jungkook confessed. "But it was worth it. I can see why some girls seem to like it."

You frowned slightly at him, and crawled off of him, no longer in the straddling position. Jungkook realized his mistake and grabbed at your arm before you could start packing the things away. "Wait, I want to repay the favor," Jungkook stops you, knowing that would stop you in your tracks.

You quirked a brow, turning back to him. "And how exactly do you expect to do that?"

Jungkook flipped you over where you were laying down on the bed horizontally, and he started sinking to his knees, grabbing the vibrator off the floor that seemed to bounce off the bed when he put you on there. "Let me show you," he said to you, hiking your dress up a bit and turning on the vibrator.

You roughly yanked at the collar, pulling him closer to stare you in the eye. Your gaze was calculating, almost as though you were wondering whether or not he was worth your time.

"You have ten minutes," you say.

Jungkook grins, wasting no time as you hiked yourself higher on the bed, spreading your legs apart and bringing them up to the bed where your core was exposed to Jungkook. You hiked your dress up a bit higher to give him a good view.

He puts the vibrator back on max, pressing it to your clit and rubbing it in teasing circles. You tossed your head back a bit, closing your eyes in content.

"This is the same vibrator I use back at home you know," you murmur. "Does that turn you on?"

"Fuck yes," Jungkook breathes, dragging the vibrator from your clit to tease your hole, going circles around it before pushing it into your wetness, your heat enveloping it immediately. He pumped it against you, attaching his own lips to your clit and lapping his tongue against him, liking the feeling of your wetness spread across his face, the juices slick and inviting.

He started going faster, sucking harder, and you reached down to grab at his collar, tugging it in the way that had him gasping for air again. He moaned against your mound, sending more vibrations throughout your system.

After a few minutes, he noticed your thighs started to shake, and he started sucking a bit more and removed his lips from your mound to press the vibrator deftly against it, plunging his fingers in you instead to curl up.

Your back arched, legs shaking and a mewl of a moan escaping your lips, though you were currently biting on your hand. You panted, looking over to the pleased Jungkook. "I'm impressed," you admitted. "Fuck, that must've been less than ten minutes, Kookie. Fuck."

His chest swelled with pride at the praise you were giving him, and he collapsed next to you, itchy hands removing the collar and mind wandering to the phenomenal sex (well, sort of sex) that the two of you had.

"So, is your mind off of whatever upset you?" you asked him, turning to him just as he got the collar off.

He quirked a brow. "Oh? Oh, yeah..."

"If you want, you can talk about it, Jungkook. I know we don't really do much outside... this... but I'm here for you, you know," you murmured, your voice soft and quiet. You were usually so confident and the opposite of timid, so seeing you actually unsure of whether or not he wanted the two of you to get closer in a way other than sexually was eye-opening, to say the least.

Jungkook's heart pounded out of his chest.

"Yes, I'd... I'd love things like that, honestly," Jungkook confesses. "It's just... I guess it's hard to talk about."

You glanced at him. "I'm listening."

Jungkook got up, looking around and picking up his discarded boxers from the floor, tugging them back on. "It's embarrassing, and maybe it's the post-orgasm thing that's making me tell you, but I don't care. It's just... my friend was getting onto me, and he was saying that you were probably seeing other people and I got so angry I accidentally hurt him."

Your eyes widened in surprise as you sat up. "You hit him because of me, Kookie?"

Jungkook bit his lip. "No... I just hit an apple at his nose so hard it started to bleed."

Your face was blank for a second, and you burst into laughter within a flash, sputtering out nonsense. Jungkook felt a bit lighter about the situation, seeing you so amused by it.

You were crying in hysterics. "An apple? Are you serious? That's... oh my God..." You started wheezing, and Jungkook supposed the situation was pretty funny, letting a chuckle slip from his lips.

"I still feel really guilty, though," Jungkook admitted.

You smiled up at him, putting your hand on his arm. "Trust me, Kookie, if the worst you did was throw fruit at him, everything will be okay in the end. He's your friend, and you seem genuinely sorry. Everything ends up right in the end."

Jungkook smiled at those words, warmth spreading through him.

"Would you, er, like to just stay here for the night?" he asked. "I mean... it's late. And I don't think I'm in a position to go home just yet, personally."

You were hesitant, and Jungkook was surprised by your next response. "I... guess I can stay. Just this once, since you're going through a rough time. I meant it when I said tonight was about you."

Jungkook smiled brightly, "Thank you."

You slipped your dress off, taking Jungkook's shirt from the floor and letting that cover you in place of pajamas instead, shuffling off to the bathroom before returning. Jungkook noted how cute you looked, letting yourself drown in the fabric as you buried yourself into the bed. Jungkook shuffled to the bathroom, quickly grabbing a towel and wiping down any leftover stains on the covers, turning off the lights and finishing a few other small tasks until he finally climbed into bed with you.

You were both wide awake and silent.

"Hey, is it weird if... I mean..." Jungkook took a deep breath. "Is it okay if I want you all to myself? And if I want to be the only one you do these things with? Is it selfish if I want to be the only one in your eyes, like how you are in mine?"

There was silence on your part for a few seconds, and Jungkook found himself wondering how he could jump out of the window for that awkward pause.

"No," you answered. "I don't think it's selfish at all. I want that too. I have since I first met you."

Jungkook's heart fluttered a bit within his chest as he stared off in the dark. "Are you seeing anyone else, by any chance?"

Another pause.

"No. I'm not."

Jungkook rolled over, letting his arm wrap around your waist to pull your body in against his, your ass pressing against his crotch and his nose buried in your locks, inhaling the scent of your sweet shampoo.

With your words to put him at ease and your smaller frame in his arms, he drifted off into a soft slumber, the type you only get when lullabies are sung in your ears and the mattress and pillows seemed to transport you to dreamland.

He felt content with the girl he loved in his arms.