#jk thank u actually for separating these

[guiltswept]

gabe stared at murph like he had just turned water into wine; eyes still glistening, though tears no longer threatened to spill from his eyes. "wait, really? for me?" they reached forward and snatched the case from murph; like they were worth gold. really - the cigarettes were as cheap as you could get. still weren't camels, but fuck - did gabe really have a choice? they got back up onto their feet; a struggle, considering the guitar case on their back. "shit, dude, do you want me to like - repay you back? i can - i can sing you a song. like that guy that sings to celebrities. i can do adele." gabe couldn't do adele. "i - uh, wonderwall? i'm really good at wonderwall." they could - play guitar ridiculously well, actually - but the thought of wasting their potential on joke songs and acoustic renditions was just - the funnier option, really. "how about, uh - i walk a lonely road, the only one that i have ever known - you look like the type! not - lonely, but, like - you walk. you're walking right now."

Murph stood frozen first in his embarrassment and then in slightly amused confusion. "Okay, well that's a little much—" He said under his breath. Not too loud because Murph wasn't prepared to actually fight about it. He was more likely to lose against a strong gust of wind and he certainly wasn't prepared to defend his honor over a little bit of cigarette smoke. But then his attention was drawn back to the cigarette he'd stomped out, eyes ping ponging between that and Gabe. Slowly, he slipped a hand into his pocket, fishing out the crushed pack of Lucky Strikes. He held them out in offering. "You can just... have these? And we can call it even?"

[agirlwithglam]

how to stop being so obsessed with them.

heyyy bestieees! heres a few tips to stop you from being so obsessed with them cus honeyyy its just not worth it. it doesn't just have to be romantically btw!

"she's literally perfect.. like how??" <- affirmations!

༄ ✬ move on! ༄ ✬

numero uno. move on. okay hear me out! there are 8 billion people in the world. (8 billion freeky deeking people). do yk how much that it? a lot of 0s. and i know for a fact that SO MANY of them would be thrilled to know you, to spend time with you, to love and respect you! if that 1 person out of 8 billion people doesn't seem to recognise your worth, so what?!

"oh but they're perfect and i just love them so much!" ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.... sorry, what do you love again? the fact that they don't care enough to return a text, treat you right, make you feel loved?

"i just want them to love me back and treat me the way they treat others because they are so funny and always seem to make me and other people laugh!" oh ma lawd. ur not serious r u? you are?! okokok i won't make fun of you. i can relate to how that feels. but sweetheart, 8 billion. trust me, you'll find a lot more people who are twice as funnier and caring who will love you to the moon and back and make you feel like the most specialist person ever and massage ur crusty musty toes. jk about the last one- unless u want that?

༄ ✬ not everyone will know your worth. ༄ ✬

so asking questions like "but why can't they realise how great i am? or how funny i am? or how loving i am? i would do anything for them, why can't they realise that and treat me the same way back?" im sorry honey but the world doesn't work that way. if someone doesn't feel or treat you as if you're the most glamorous girl in the world, then you need to stop giving them sm energy and importance.

heres an analogy that i got from simonesquared on youtube: in gilmore girls, Rory has this super rich boyfriend Logan right? (who has the most cutest smile ever i might add) and he buys Rory a birkin bag. now to Rory, she doesn't realise the value of a bag like that! to her, its just another bag. she's grateful of course, but she doesn't fully realise the immense value this type of bag has.

༄ ✬ have a life outside of them.༄ ✬

lemme repeat that. have. a. fleeping. life. outside. of. them. they should NOT be the center of your life or the cause of all your actions NUH UH ABSOLUTELY NOT! its okay to do SOME things with the thought of them, but that part is separate from the rest of your life. your life is your life, not theirs!!

this can mean going to the gym, working out, finding new hobbies, educating yourself, self care, etc etc! but don't go about your life, thinking about them. you go about your life thinking about YOU.

༄ ✬ stop chasing them. ༄ ✬

"gee, thanks vanilla. thats so helpful! how did i not think about that earlier?" im assuming thats sarcasm, but whateverr. okay so if they know that you're chasing them, that you're obsessed with them, yk what they'll think? they'll think that 'oh! this person is chasing me, so she really wants me. so she'll stick around. i dont really need to try too hard to keep her cus i know she'll stay. i'll explore my options in the meantime :)'

GIRL do not so available like this! BE BUSY (which relates to the point before). once you glow up, work on your life, not taking it so seriously, and just being happy and enjoying this beautiful gift of life, they will start to think: 'oh! this person (you) is actually quite fabulous. i better try to make her feel happy/ be friends with her before i miss this awesome opportunity!'

cus girl, cmon, you've got things to do, places to be, and people to talk to. i've got goals and dreams and my bucket list. you don't have the time to sit here and be crazy obsessed. so like, if they just leave, um okay and? "yes, and?" what about it? am i meant to be bothered? likerrr okay, byee? i mean, i've got a lot of things to do so i could try to fit in a "help i need you" session between my pilates class and my cooking class? jk <3

༄ ✬ give yourself the damn love. ༄ ✬

why are you obsessed with them? why are you head over heels for somebody who literally couldn't care less? its because they have something that you feel like you're lacking.

is it the fact that they always seem so happy and laughing-y with people around them? that they get super high marks on their test? they are attractive? they have a high status? money? what is it?? often, we can actually give these things to ourselves. some, easier than others. but not impossible. if you really wanted to, you would get up, dust yourself up, and give yourself the love you crave. What you want in others, give to yourself first.

More resources:

How to stop comparing yourself & feel fulfilled without needing external validation.

Thewizardliz: becoming selfish was the best thing i did

Lumma Aziz’s videos

[mrs-monaghan]

there’s so much misinfo going round atm, see lots of people saying that after jk enlists with jm and does the boot camp he can apply for some special ???something and will leave separately where he is stationed or that just because jk / jm are enlisting on same day, they only will do basic training together then go to separate places ? and that they only chose the enlisting together option because it meant they could make sure they were out in time for june ?

ik it’s a bit hard to follow maybe with different sources and not real confirmation but do you know if any of it is true? my understanding was that they did the “enlisting together” scheme thing, (ie. it’s a purposeful application, they knew they were choosing this way) which meant they’ll at least be in same living quarters etc the whole time until they’re out ?

sorry for long Q! it’s ok if you dk it was just confusing D; thank you!

Hi anon. 😳 I am terrible when it comes to the serious stuff and have the attention span of a toddler when such topics arise. My mind registers them as boring and so I don't retain the in4. But my friends delved deep into this so I will gather as much as I can and do my best to explain the sitch

Let me start by correcting the biggest misinformation of them all. Thanks to fucking Mina with her fake subs and reaching conclusions, the vermin are confusing "Special Task Force" with "Special Forces"

JK said he wanted to join special forces. Well and good

But thats not what V is doing. V applied for Special Task Force which, while not easy (he said in the live its why he enlisted there, to challenge himself) its nothing compared to special forces. Special forces is HARD CORE. Its no joke. It's for those who actually want to go to war and proper fight for their country. Not for those fulfilling a mandatory duty... One they wouldn't do if they had the choice. Special forces, those people actually wanna be there. And if u know JK then u shouldn't be surprised that he would say something like this. Of course our dare devil bunny would enjoy joining something as risky as special forces.

But guess what? No one stopped him. He still could have gone there if he really wanted to. Just like in Winter package. No one told him to give up zip lining for beer tasting. He did that off his own volition since Jimin was going beer tasting. JK's happiness is where Jimin is. Period. (Suga's presence played a big part but we don't talk about Yoonmin)

(Edit: the whole thing takes almost 8 years to complete which again, is not something JK would actually do if he wanted to still stay a member of BTS. And of course satellite Jeon would again, never do it)

Jikook wanted to use the buddy system and they applied where Jin is on purpose because since the location is so risky, (front lines) not alot of people apply to serve there. So the chances of them being accepted were pretty high. I already talked a bit about that here.

Coldest and most dangerous. But before we panic, Jikook love snow so... thats good. But also;

2 things to note before we continue; 1) Tattoos are a none factor on why Jikook applied together or why JK couldn't be with V. They had 0 to do with that. And 2) All members and where they ended up it was their decision

So, here is a Korean explaining

They shall not be separated. They will train together and continue to serve together

One body. Shiet.

Nice. Even the breaks they will take together. Basically spend every minute together for those 18 months y'all.

They had to pass 3 rounds. Applying wasn't all. They had rounds to pass before getting accepted. So as we can see this was a whole ass process. They really worked hard on this to make it happen.

Apparently there is a show you can watch that explains the buddy system. Its 8 episodes, its called real man

The holding hands thing is legit 🤣🤣🤣

Jikook shouldn't have an issue then 🤭

Anon, people are in denial and the other half are trying to explain this away. If Jikook only went in together just so they could come out at the same time then they could have done what Vmon did. Apply separately at the same time.

This is one tough pill to swallow for antis. It's like the biggest fuck u Jikook could have ever done but at the same time I really don't think they factored anyone else but themselves when they made this decision.

18 months is no small amount of time so let's call a spade a spade; Jikook couldn't be apart that long. Fax 💯 JK wanted to be there for Jimin, Jimin wanted to be there for JK, of course. Them in the same place looking out for each other is all I as a fan who loves them can ask for. But at the same time, they needed this.

Anon, they will be together 24/7 for the entire duration of their time there.

Yes. Sleeping in the same quarters. It wouldn't make sense for companionship if they were separating the recruits who applied together. To be companions. Of each other.

The buddy system is there to help friends cope with this difficult mandatory thing that the government insists on doing to their young men. It's there to help them cope in any way possible. I imagine mostly mentally. So why would they train them together then separate them? ❓❓❓

It is said that you should make sure the person you apply with, is a person u get along with super well because for the next 18 months you will be together every moment of everyday. It's krazy to imagine that JK wouldn't rather do this with his actual boyfriend V, instead. Krazy. 🤯

Anygays, no need to worry my good people, Jimin and JK have got each other's back. All that's left is to wait for them and pray for them. May they always hold hands 🤭

Tihihihihihihi

[tianshiisdead]

How would you characterize modern day Japan’s relationship with China and Korea? I’d love to hear your thoughts! Ps. Love your art

hello anon i see you have it out for me <3

KFLDHGF JK JK... this is quite a question though 💦 Honestly fairly rocky I'd imagine, but they do hang out. I think there's a contrast between Korchu complaining about Japan and the three of them going to karaoke and drinking together. Inevitably they're going to have a decent level of closeness I feel given how intertwined East Asian modernity is, but that doesn't lessen the antagonism all that much. Korchu harass him on twitter*, and totally justifiably as well LOL Japan is NOT owning up to anything and this is all the reparations they're going to get in the foreseeable future...

On Japan's part, I don't think he's particularly apologetic so much as irritated by them bringing old scars up because 'it was in the past, why are you lingering on old history instead of looking into the future' with maybe an added 'this is why you haven't developed properly like I have' towards China - although he probably can't do that anymore I guess! Sad! I also do think he lowkey looks down on them, and that he has some weird complexes about them as well but that's another conversation. Japan has some sort of 'closer to the west' sense of pride that gets in the way of relations with his neighbors as well, he's really annoying about that, and he has (more than) a bit of nostalgia towards eras Korchu are Not Happy About. He also has a bad tendency of blaming them for his domestic problems which they also aren't very happy about.

This is where I'm going to reveal my bias: I'm definitely less knowledgeable and therefore less confident on Korea-Japan compared to China-Japan, but to focus on China-Japan for a second: I think Japan's actually fairly irritated at China. Like, in general Korchu anger towards Japan far outweigh Japan anger towards Korchu for obvious reasons, but in this case Japan has a thought process like 'I helped you so much in the 80s and now you're stabbing me in the back!!', which China thinks is bullshit of course 👍

Also, lest I make it seem too much like Korchu vs Japan, I'd imagine Korpan complain about China together quite often as well and Nichu commit racism towards Korea separately but they catch each other's gaze across the internet and have a moment of understanding. Japan and Korea play nice when America's looking but fight a lot when America's not looking. They're caught up on each other's latest media and resent that fact. Easia's such a funny region 😨

*China has a twitter through a vpn like all those Chinese gov officials/international correspondents who spend their time dropping twitter roasts all day

**korchupan are not related they're not even slightly related they're not brothers they aren't family no one 'raised' anyone and they view each other as Potential Sexual Partners ok thank u. i see most 'easia Blood Family' takes as being anywhere from a little ignorant to incredibly racist

Ah and thank you so much!! I am so glad u like my art means a lot <33

[sparklingchim]

told you i had a darly sixth sense! read the chapter and scanned the asks so i have a couple of thoughts!

first of all ylm jk you frustrate me so!!! he so effortlessly shows how much he loves oc and how attentive he is and can be, so i'm sure he's realized that she's not so fulfilled nowadays with how their relationship is going but he's just choosing to ignore it for now. my brother in christ grow a pair!! love's starting to not be enough!! and you've got a baddie at your side who's slowly but surely growing tired......

i know we barely know our mc so i guess opinions on her might be a bit mixed rn but i'm definitely on her defending squad and i didn't appreciate that some of you weren't putting respect on her name.... like yeah we all see how privileged she is and that "she knew what she was getting into" but that's the point, he clearly once knew how to handle everything but now he is not as careful with striking a work-life balance and she is entitled to be upset about this relationship becoming something she did not sign up for, he set expectations up and i don't think we can blame her for being disappointed (oooh darly isn't it fun how your work generates discourse!)

i just had a silly little thought/an au for this story that since yk pregnancy/motherhood is a topic here and this last chapter was so focused on how easy it is for oc to be with yumi so maybe they separate but she's pregnant (obviously in this scenario both of them are in agreement in terms of keeping the baby no matter the circumstances)..... it'd be so interesting to see how they would navigate their separation, since it would be a kind of death occurring at the same time as a birth. i don't know, just something that came across my mind!

i think all that's left are some questions i have! i'm sure you've said it before but i just can't remember: will they only be separating or actually going through with a divorce? aaaand two parts??? we're in for a ride! will it be pre and post separation or is it still all going down in part one? (maybe you can't answer any of these and that's totally fine!)

anyways, my heart becomes achey with these two no matter how sweet some parts may be so i think we'd all do good with ego season next, if that floats your boat (as always, no pressure at all, managing one story is already hard, your pace deserves our respect and whatever you prefer to work our appreciation)

it's always lovely reading you, sorry for the essay i just dropped in your inbox; lots of love,

bloom 💐

omg everyone shush miss bloom is here !!!!!

ur so right ! he knows her so well and notices everything abt her, there's actually no way he hasn't noticed oc's unhappiness </3

(oooh darly isn't it fun how your work generates discourse!)

i actually blushed like a little girl !!! 😭 it's always pretty unexpected, but it's so fun seeing people share their thoughts and read all of them, especially ones i don't rlly agree with !!

ur little au idea !! v intriguing bestie 🫢 "it would be a kind of death occurring at the same time as birth" oh bloom, i love ur mind so much <3 i love the idea <3

to ur questions, they will actually go through with a divorce 🫢 </3 and yes, there'll be multiple parts !! three in total !! the second part is post break up !! right after they separate !

teehee the way u also sensed that ego season would be next ?🤭 i'll try my best to post the next chapter for that soon <33

i love u n missed u so much bloom!! n don't apologise !! i loved reading every single word u wrote 🫂 thank u so much for taking ur time to write all that down <3 mwahh mwahhh 😙

[whyse7vn]

SEX BAN -

[ ot7 x reader ]

JIMIN -

jimin: if you let me hit again i’ll fuck you like we’re long lost lovers separated by war

y/n: what

jimin: just saying

y/n: stop saying

jimin: you should like lift this sex ban you’ve put us on

y/n: no

jimin: i said i was sorry

y/n: sorry does not take back the month you were an asshole to me

jimin: BABEEEEEEEEEEEE

y/n: leave me alone

jimin: this is how people get cheated on yk??

y/n: are you saying ur gonna cheat on me rn?

jimin: DON’T TALK CRAZY NOW

heh like crazy

shut up

anyways

i was just saying

this is how cheating happens

y/n: am i supposed to be insecure??

jimin: depends

does you feeling insecure make you want to fuck me?

y/n: that is so toxic

jimin: toxic enough to have sex??

y/n: …

jimin: taking that as a maybe

y/n: take it as a no

jimin: baby ☹️☹️

y/n: not listening

jimin: do you even love me

y/n: no

jimin: WOW :((

has this whole relationship been a lie be honest

y/n: this whole relationship is about to be in the past if u keep being annoying

jimin: just say you want to fuck me at this point

y/n: i do NOT want to fuck you at this point

jimin: you said it not me 🔥🔥🔥🔥

y/n: can you read???

jimin: when i want to

y/n: so no then…

jimin: i’m naked rn

y/n: i hope you freeze to death

jimin: kinky 😉

JUNGKOOK -

y/n: sex ban

jk: 😧

y/n: cry about it

jk: euh euh euh waaaaaa waaaa euh euh waaaaaaa waaaa waaaa waaaaaaaaaaaa waaaaa waaaaa waaaaa waaaaaa waaaaa waaaaa waaaaa waaaaWAAAAAA

😢😓😭😰😪😭😭

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

y/n: stop

jk: i’m sorry babe

y/n: you deserve this

jk: i’m aware

i’m sorry

shoot me in the head

bury me alive

i’m sorry

kill me

kill me now

i’m sorry

i’m sososo sorry

babe

y/n: stop

jk: ok

sorry

y/n: thank you

jk: btw i just went on ur ig and jacked off to you 😭

y/n: what the actual fuck jungkook

jk: i think i have a problem

y/n: yeah

jk: yeah

can you come hold me pls

y/n: give me 2 minutes baby

jk: she loves me >_<

YOONGI -

yoongi: u busy?

y/n: yes

yoongi: liar

y/n: what do u want

yoongi: :3

y/n: sex ban

yoongi: what.

y/n: sex ban

yoongi: why

y/n: you need it

yoongi: i need it?

y/n: you need it

yoongi: i need YOU

y/n: girl

yoongi: stop

y/n: live a little babe

yoongi: we can do that

in bed

y/n: live?

yoongi: yeah

y/n: failed sext attempt question mark

yoongi: stop saying question mark

just use an actual question mark

y/n: why question mark

yoongi: are you being serious

y/n: about me saying question mark question mark

yoongi: no

about the sex ban

y/n: yeah lol

you need it

yoongi: you said that already

shut up

y/n: sad face dot dot dot

yoongi: ur annoying

y/n: ur annoying

yoongi: shut up actually

y/n: always trying to silence women

shame on u tbh

yoongi: always talking shit

shut up tbh

y/n: sorry can’t hear you over the sex ban you’ve been put on

yoongi: that doesn’t even make sense

y/n: jump of a bridge question mark

yoongi: i’m putting you on a sex ban

y/n: UM HELLO

yoongi: yeah ur on a sex ban rn

y/n: that’s not how this works

yoongi: why

question mark

y/n: bcs i put you on one first

WAIT DID YOU JUST QUESTION MARK ME/)£/72£:£:77/7:7:£

WHO EVEN ARE YOU RN

lord pls kill the one they call min yoongi i HATE HIM I HATE HIM I HATE HIMMMM

yoongi: yeah ok

come home soon pretty waiting for you :3

y/n: i’ll kill you in your sleep

yoongi: kill me during sex

y/n: you should be scared rn

yoongi: i’m terrified pretty girl

y/n: hope you’ve said ur goodbyes to your family

yoongi: sent them letters and everything

y/n: i’m omw

yoongi: oh nooooooo

TAEHYUNG -

tae: HEY 😆

what you doing pretty????

y/n: cleaning rn tae

tae: oh you’re showering?

y/n: no

tae: without me? ://

y/n: i’m cleaning

not showering

can you read

tae: ok but like i’m 📯

y/n: tf is that

ur trumpet???

tae: THAT IS NOT A FUCKING TRUMPET ARE YOU SILLY THATS A HORN

god i HATE women

y/n: ok woah???

still don’t know what ur saying to me i’m literally cleaning leave me alone

tae: i’m 📯

y/n: in a band???

tae i don’t fucking know what ur trying to say to me

tae: i’m horny ohmygod i’m horny

y/n: ok

thanks for telling me goodbye now

tae: ????????

IM HORNY

what are you not getting

y/n: you’re also on a sex ban so

tae: WHAT????????

SINCE WHEN

UR LYING

y/n: since now ur pissing me off

tae: BABE 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

pls

pls

pls say this is fake

say it’s a lie

untrue

fake news

false information

incorrect

tell me babe

y/n: it’s real

so real

should of done this sooner

yes this one is unfinished I TOLD U GUYS

SEOKJIN -

jin: how about you set ur self up for success and turn on ur location rn 😝🙏🏼

y/n: no if you want to come see me you have to be on ur retro shit

pull out ur map and compass i’ll drop the coordinates ‼️💯

jin: why do you have to be so difficult

y/n: don’t act like you don’t know how to use map and compass

you were born before google maps

i KNOW you know ur way around a compass

jin: you are not funny btw

y/n: btw i am

jin: go away

y/n: going away

jin: wait no come back

let’s make love lol

y/n: you are on a sex ban

jin: no i’m not?

y/n: yes you are

jin: i’m not

y/n: you live in delusion then

jin: SLUT

y/n: always so nice to me 🥺💗

jin: ok but would you still love me as a worm?

y/n: i don’t love you as u are now

jin: WOAH????

that’s fucking rude

y/n: you literally called me a slut cuz i wouldn’t fuck you

jin: that’s different

y/n: you are not a good person

jin: so i’ve been told

y/n: try therapy maybe?

jin: sex therapy

y/n: jin

jin: what

i love you you love me let’s make love

fuck the ban i say fuck it 🗣️

y/n: go away

NAMJOON -

namjoon: are you mad at me or something my love?

y/n: no

namjoon: so the sex ban is because?

y/n: felt like it

namjoon: ok pretty

y/n: ok?

namjoon: yeah?

y/n: ur not gonna fight me about it?

namjoon: i am i supposed to?

y/n: a little bit

namjoon: oh

i really don’t want to fight with you tho

y/n: not even a little bit?

namjoon: not even a little bit

y/n: cuz you want to fight me a big bit right?????

namjoon: no?

y/n: why is that a question?

namjoon: why do you want me to fight you?

y/n: do you like having sex with me?

namjoon: of course

y/n: act like it then

namjoon: let’s have sex baby

y/n: NO ❌❌ ❌❌❌❌ ❌❌❌❌❌ ❌❌❌❌ ❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌ 🙅🏽‍♀️🙅🏽‍♀️🙅🏽‍♀️🙅🏽‍♀️🙅🏽‍♀️🙅🏽‍♀️🙅🏽‍♀️🙅🏽‍♀️🙅🏽‍♀️🙅🏽‍♀️🙅🏽‍♀️

SEX BAN

SEX BAN

SEX BANNNNNN

namjoon: i’m not gonna force you to have sex with me if you don’t want to my love

y/n: i do want to have sex with you

namjoon: but you put me on a sex ban

y/n: yes

what are you not getting kim namjoon

namjoon: a lot baby

help me out here

y/n: do you even love me anymore?

namjoon: with my whole heart and soul

y/n: joon

namjoon: baby

y/n: i want the sex

you want the sex

i say sex ban

you say

namjoon: i respect that

y/n: NO

SHUT UP

namjoon: sorry 😢

y/n: you say

namjoon: let’s have sex pls

y/n: ur getting better

but it’s still not perfect

namjoon: more rizz??

y/n: LMAO no

we are leaving rizz in the past

namjoon: oh ok

less rizz?

y/n: 0 rizz more

desperation

namjoon: so you want me to beg?

y/n: well yes

but like i’m not gonna tell you to beg because that’s me telling you

i want you to beg because you WANT to beg not cuz i told you to beg

namjoon: baby please can we have sex

i really need you right now

please baby help me out

y/n: hehehehheheheh

no joon

a sex ban is a sex ban

namjoon: but baby

y/n: ur so obsessed with me it’s crazy wow

namjoon: i know i’m sorry just want you

love you

so much

y/n: i’ll bake you in my oven

namjoon: thank you baby

y/n: yw

now come over i want to squeeze you till ur eyes pop out

namjoon: ok baby ❤️

y/n: WAIT WHY WE LOWKEY SEXTING RN 😝😝😝😝😝

namjoon: go us!!!

y/n: um ur literally on a sex ban?? go away

and this one

HOSEOK -

hobi: gm shesus 😝

y/n: ?

hobi: pussy is power

i love feminism

girls girls girls

women in power

gender rolls

pay gap

history ?? no HERstory

y/n: huh

hobi: i need to fuck you before i go insane

y/n: oh

hobi: yeah

y/n: kinda looks like you’ve already gone insane

hobi: it’ll get worse

y/n: yikes

hobi: yeah

y/n: it’s barely been 24hours

hobi: i feel like a crack addict in need of his fix

withdrawals i’m having withdrawals babe

y/n: this is literally ur fault btw

hobi: ok and i’ll accept that

y/n: well ur not accepting it

cuz you’re asking to fuck after i told you we’re on a sex ban that you INSISTED you could survive

hobi: didn’t know my girlfriend wanted me dead in a ditch with my arms and legs cut off thanks for letting me know tho

y/n: “put me on a sex ban i dare you i dare you do it i’ll last could go 12 years without sex actually”

hobi: soooo i lied

y/n: no way!!!!!!

hobi: yes way

i love you

y/n: i love you too

hobi: what you trying to do rn bae 😋

y/n: no

hobi: okay!

was that a good attempt tho?

y/n: no!

hobi: fuck man

y/n: fuck man

hobi: fuck you

fuck me

fuck me fuck you

fuck us?

fuck US 😈

y/n: i’m going to fucking block you

hobi: wow okay

sell my organs while you’re at it

y/n: i will

hobi: i’m into that

y/n: you’re not helping yourself

hobi: i love you

—

unfinished but too silly not to post don’t shoot me

tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @kooksmilitarywife @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @leleluvsbts @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @jazminethecreator @k4ngelz @jmnscutie @sopebubbles-replies @cynicalyoongs @lightningpussy54 @eunthv @gigiiiiislife @lowkeykin @elissasimp @socksfirstalways

[rarepairnation]

3, 4, 7, 9 for the fic writer asks :)

hi anna thank u c: this took way too long lol i just spent days agonizing over what excerpts to pick and how i wanted to analyze them and falling asleep over my laptop keyboard but here it is finally (questions from this ask meme)

3. What’s a fic idea that you have but haven’t written yet?

dude the multitudes i think i could spend the character limit of this post listing them. opening the entire separate notes app on my phone where i keep them all. highlight reel: pacific rim chosen-one-as-in-sacrificial-lamb raleigh & stacker pentecost (you and i are the only ones who ever ran solo combat that's why i brought you here is CRAZY); james bond m(allory) vs the portrait of m(ansfield) that is very much not present in the halls of mi6 (until it is); lotr faramir and pippin and the ghost of boromir and the debt pippin owes to gondor which is not the debt that denethor demands of him. there are also like way too many little nickjasper oneshots that are sitting around waiting to be written. a selection: jasper leaving messages on nick's phone when he thinks he's dead, putting photos up + building a home together, couch fic, sleepy leather jacket fic, nick sending jasper on his first mission since they got together, 4x nick sweeping jasper off his feet, ambient new years day fic, nick meeting jasper's plane in the hangar, can you tell i am just holding them in my hands so tenderly. these are all such nothing concepts and yet theyre everything to me...

4. Do you prefer writing multi-chapter or oneshot fanfictions?

the day i write a chaptered fic again is the day i am dead in the damn ground. jk but like its the 20k oneshot unlimited scene breaks life for me i am afraid. putting in chapters gives me hives what if i have to go back and change something...ending a chapter gives the adhd a convenient place to sit down and refuse to move...all that

7. What's a trope you love to write?

depends on how broadly we are defining trope. actually i decided that this question just says "theme" instead of trope bc it was the middle of the night and i wanted to talk about Themes And Motifs. like.......guilt complex. the intersection between duty and desire. two people that have never had the luxury building a soft place to land together (because love is a place you could live in). uhhh. subversion of dark/light dichotomies (quiet and comfort and whispered secrets in the night and clarity and endings and unforgiving harshness in the light of day). Water Metaphors. that thing where a character sees their love interest in formalwear (or tactical gear. bc of. well the spy fiction) for the first time. i could go on but ive bastardized the prompt for long enough lol

9. What’s your favorite line(s) or scene(s) that you have written?

sickos.jpg YES...YES!!! i love this one. i will try to refrain from going way overboard but also...no promises. gonna try to not do any of the ones i did for ao3 wrapped last year lol

"He wants to reach out, wants to touch, wants to find Gareth among the bones of M but he can’t. Not now."

the way i played with names and titles and forms of address in race for a hurricane (bond, the first mallorytanner i ever published) remains one of my most favourite things i've done with words ever in my life. like when i figured it out i was like oh. i Understand them now. there are at LEAST three layers of masks before you even start to get into real people down there. and here is a situation that strips them all away. like mallory has to accept the death of mi6 before he can allow himself to fight for it one last time but their work life balance is pretty much defined by "when you are m" and "when you are not/when you are tanner's." when it's no longer that clear-cut it takes tanner reaching for him and saying gareth for both of them to understand that what they have together exists outside and past the boundaries of m-and-his-chief-of-staff. ugh its crazy stuff

"He's always known exactly how to push Nick's buttons and Nick's not made it a secret how hot he is for him right now, all confident competence, smug and self-assured in the knowledge that he's done everything Nick wants of him - and he has. He's done it to perfection.  He reaches out and traces a finger across Jasper’s jaw, waits until he has his full attention before he lets his mouth curve with clean, shining approval. “Oh, Jas,” he says, “my sword.” Jasper lets out a sigh at Nick's words, pitched high enough that it could be a whine, tongue darting out to wet his lips. Nick steps back, lets Jasper sway half a step towards him, the slackness in his shoulders half want and half relief. Catches him with a hand against his chest. “Let me see you. What have you done to yourself?”"

well i had to put in this entire passage from just so long as this thing's loaded (marvel, unhinged nickjasper). i am just so fucking pleased with the build of the tension and the space of the pause before the Line Of All Time and just. i assigned myself to write Well More Things Should Be Weird And Horny and i think i pulled it off. like six paragraphs up there is pretty much straight up knifeplay in there. in my defense i didnt realize how intense it'd got until i had finished writing it. obviously the crown jewel of this excerpt and also of the whole fic is oh, jas, my sword which is a line that fucking bolt of lightning-ed into my mind exactly when i needed it and put me absolutely flat on my back. (i WILL take the "character being reduced to a deadly weapon by their love interest and liking it" trope to its most literal. Augh.) usually i see those kinds of major lines that i spend a whole scene's worth leading up to coming. I Did Not See This Coming.

man there's more but im putting a readmore in for the sake of everyone's sanity.

"This is leaping off an edge and trusting the ocean to catch her - trusting Raleigh to catch her, and when the drift comes up to cradle her and her feet come down onto the contact pedals she feels like she could eat the world whole. It makes her want to split herself open, loving hands and cold steel and take back what the kaiju have taken from her, the blood they’ve spilt over her insides[...]"

i! love! mako mori!!!!! my best girl!!!! they say when you set out on a quest for revenge dig two graves they! underestimate! me!! when i wrote tempered steel (pacific rim/mako mori-centric) i was like oh i Get her. oh her spine is literally a sword. oh the kaiju took everything from her and she will take everything from them and she will not die trying because she is the hurricane. she will open herself up with her own hands (and raleigh's hands because they are her hands and hnnnggg drift compatibility...) and draw out every drop of blood the kaiju have left inside her and. just incredible stuff

"now[...m]eans after this, after the kitchen they'd painted together, after the car rides to work, after Nick-and-Jasper becomes just Nick, and a house with Jasper's name still on the mortgage."

sorry about the blood in your mouth (marvel, the first nickjasper i ever published. life comes full circle) is the oldest fic in this set but i still think about this line regularly. just. when you are a spy and your husband is a spy and it turns out he's been a traitor all along and you fell for it hook line and sinker. and you cannot let anyone else kill him because you need it to be you, because you have done the thing you never thought or let yourself do, you have built yourself a life with him and now. now you are just nick, now you are a half of a whole and his name will always be on your mortgage and your house will always be yours, both of yours, and. Man. 2020 me was on something fuckoff crazy (quarantine blues is what).

"Dying for each other might be romantic in all the stories but in real life, it just hurts. In real life, it just leaves someone behind. They already know that Jasper will walk unflinching to the edge and let himself fall, that Nick will claw his way right out of the grave just to catch him when he hits the ground. This time, it’s their goddamn story. This time, they’ll run and they’ll get out, hand in hand. This time, they’re going to fucking live."

the whole ending paragraph of say the word and i'm already there (marvel, sneaking into the garage after the divorce to pick up my nickjasper boxes and fleeing with them). i love to subvert tropes and saw that post about instead of i will die for you try i will live because of you, for you and i finally got to do it. i love dying-for-each-other as much as the next girl but also like...let's be serious here for a minute. let's be so real character death in mainstream media is so cheap nowadays. In Real Life It Just Hurts. this is such an i will write you a thousand happy endings moment i think i cried when i wrote it like....man i love jasper sitwell. i love him so fucking much. we've really had quite enough of self-sacrifice and death and all that in my opinion. the knowledge of mcu canon jasper's fate dogs every step of my damn life. it haunts me okay I Need Them To Live.

[cocoartistwrites]

im rereading familiarity and you mention that you find it difficult to believe that wizarding societies would shift with muggle ones and honestly lately ive been thinking so much about how little and how much border changes actually impact the ppl living around them like when the war in ukraine started a lot of ppl rightly pointed out that for a lot of the ppl involved its not like fighting an entirely separate entiry, its brothers fighting brothers like these are ppl that at many points in time were considered the same and had/have kinship. and its the same w the border towns in the us, like we draw arbitrary lines between physical spaces but it doesn’t create actual distance or distinction and taking that and applying it to (the rather pitiful) worldbuilding in the og harry potter series it makes no sense? like you want me to believe that at a point in time the muggle and wizarding worlds separated and became distant enough that most wizards couldn’t tell u what a telephone is and yet we have the same geopolitical boundaries being drawn? taking a step back its obv bc jk was not fully building a world but bending the real one to accommodate her story and adding those layers would have been far too complex for children (the og demographic) to have appreciated it but its details like that that make fanfics so much better because authors with time and skill just take the spark of an idea from the series and run with it (or just cleverly add details in the background that make the world of the work so much richer and more engaging) anyways love to hear your thoughts on all of that sorry for just going off lol

this was so interesting, thank you and yes exactly so!!! although i would say the world-building in an expanded universe over the course of many years and written for adults is always going to be better than the original childrens' book. like - current politics aside - I do think we are a bit harsh on what we might call The Original Author (gender neutral!) for the within-book shortcomings. it's very easy to find and react and reimagine and far more difficult to simply create. but that's the whole wonderful thing of fanfiction.

[birdstooth]

Lmaoo not me reading 9 chapters ahead bc idgaf about spoilers 😂

Actually I was just skimming out of curiosity… and then I saw their was a time jump and my first thought was LORETTA BETTER STILL BE AROUND bc idk how old she was at the beginning of the story 😬

At first I didn’t see her 😭😭 but then the kid said “Etta” so I’m going to assume that’s Loretta??? 🥺🥺🥺

The kid tho… Wayton Toe is a PIRATE NAME for sure omggg. As soon as I read that I could literally smell the ocean like it just has such strong pirate vibes 🏴‍☠️ I can totally see this lil dude chilling with Blackbeard and lighting the candles in his hair on fire 😃

I know zero about children so there may be some inaccuracies in the pic bc

1.) Not sure if 18 month y/o’s have legs?? (lol idk how to say it… like obvi they have legs but like u know what I mean right? Like when a kid has “legs” but the thigh/calf/ankle/foot are just one sausage shaped thing and not separately defined parts)

2.) not sure if they have the strength to lift a banana either 🤷‍♀️

3.) not sure if Captain Wayton Toe’s size relative to First Mate Loretta’s size is accurate 😐

Also… my theory about the missing letters is as follows (under the cut for spoilers)

(If for some reason anyone hasn’t seen this iconic vid, spoilers at around 3:09 I guess…)

The real villain is USPS y’all

lol jk I love all postal service workers 😭 the villain is preacher Bill and preacher Bill ONLY 😤

Bc a story can’t have TWO villains, right?

As I’m sure awriter as prolific as yourself already knows, the backbone of every good story is a balanced trio: one villain, one protagonist, one talking animal sidekick.

The classic holy trinity, the sacred triad. It’s everywhere around us:

Healer, dps, tank. Beauty, brains, brawn. Drummer, guitarist, bassist. Peanuts, butter, jelly. Mind, body, soul. Appetizer, entrée, dessert.

It’s just not the same when you add a fourth thing…

Eg: tinker, tailor, soldier… spy - who do you think is causing the drama in this quartet huh?? Not the guy who’s messing about with the broken toaster and actually making it worse! Not the guy that’s just diligently hemming pants!! And definitely not the guy that’s probably too busy having PTSD flashbacks to even interact with other humans!!!

It’s contestant #4!!! 😤😤😤

(Btw English lit majors don’t come at me for this poorly constructed joke)

Thank u for coming to my TED talk 🙏

Stained Like Georgia Clay, Part 14

Summary: does he come back?

Pairings: Cole Turner X Reader

Rating: angst

Warnings:  angst, mild language, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 5.2K

Previous

Series Masterlist

“Honey, can you come here for a minute?” Biting at your lip, you leave your perch by the window. Writing and looking down the driveway, hoping that you would see that bright red Ford, but you never do. With your notebook in your hand, you walk into your parents’ bedroom where your mom was rubbing her hand on the bed. “I think we need to talk.”

You aren’t sure what this could be about, so you stand there flabbergasted as she pats on the bed again, “You wanna sit down?”

“Kinda working on my book.”

“What else did you do this summer?” You give her a shrug, because you weren’t telling them about Cole until he came back. “Honey, how were things with you and Hal?”

“Fine. What is this about?”

“When we came home, you weren’t here. You were somewhere, and you left your toys, lingerie, and pregnancy test for your daddy and me to find,” you take a second to grimace at her referring to your father as daddy, but also at everything she found. “Sex is…normal, and healthy.”

“Yeah, and I’ve had the sex talk. And if I didn’t and there’s a pregnancy test in my garbage can, you’re a bit late. It was negative by the way. I really don’t want to have this conversation with you,” and there were more tests where that came from. It was like this constant paranoia of needing to test now.

“Was he…your first?” You give her a head nod, looking out her window. You just couldn’t meet her eyes. What you had with Cole was so much more than just sex. He was everything. What you have was perfection. “Were you safe?”

“Uh…safe enough.”

“I’m not sure how to take that.”

“You saw the tests. Safe enough, but not safe enough to not test. I really don’t want to talk about my sex life with you.”

“Did…did he pressure you into sex?” If only she knew, sure he might have made your body feel things it never had before. Or even thought of. He made you feel them all. But he made them all fee

“No! My god, he made me wait. We didn’t use condoms, is that what you wanted to hear? He pulled out…most of the time. But he tracked my periods,” your mother groans, rolling her eyes. “What? You said sex is normal and healthy.”

“So…uh,” she had hoped this would eventually happen. This is what parents want for their children; to grow up and move on. But she feels she missed so much time with you. You were her little girl, and she comes back to know you were taking pregnancy tests, and had sex in her house. “So when do we get to meet this man?”

“He’s on a trip,” your mother stands up, and sits back down quickly. “He is. He’ll be back. He had to do something, and when he gets back, you can meet him.”

“Can you tell me who he is?” You shake your head no. Feeling a sense of sickness roll up your stomach. Belching makes your eyes burn, and you have to slowly close them. “Honey, I don’t know how to feel about this. Daddy and I went on a trip, and we trusted you.”

“Can you please quit calling him daddy? He’s my dad. My father. But…the house is still standing. The general store is still running and going great to the point where you’re having to hire someone to help out. You trusted me, and I didn’t fail you. Who I choose to have sex with is my business, and I don’t regret the decision. He was perfect, and he will be coming back soon, and you can meet him.”

“I don’t like this,” you didn't care. You were in love, and there was nothing that could change your mind. “I thought you said you were going to wait.”

“I did. I waited until I fell in love,” Tracy’s face finally softens as she stares at you. “I never said I wanted to wait on marriage. I wanted to wait on someone special. Wait on someone who I was in love with, and I did. I’m in love with him, and…when he gets back I’m moving in with him,” she shakes her head no, standing up from her bed as she walks out. “I am. I get to decide that. I am moving in with him.”

“Why? Why do you need to move in with someone that you don’t even know? I tell you living with a man is not all it’s cracked up to be.”

“I do know him. We spent everyday together. Every night together. I did love with him. I’m moving in with him because I basically already lived with him and it’s what I want to do. He stayed here a few times, but I lived with him. Loretta Lynn, too. We had things at his house. And you can’t stop me. This…this is…” you gulp, taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself. “This is…it’s — what I’m going to do.”

“You okay?” Taking a deep breath, you steady your sickening stomach. Anytime you thought of someone telling you what you wouldn’t do with Cole you got nauseous. Still feeling a bit off when you nod your head. “Honey, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you assure her, and try to convince yourself. You were fine. It was fine. Everything was going to be fine.

——

Bee,

Baby I miss you so much. In all our time together, we never had the need for a phone, but I could really do with the sound of your voice. I think more about you than anything. You would hate this house. I hate it now. It’s so cold, and it doesn’t have any part of you in it. The smell of you no longer lingers on my clothes. I can’t taste you on my lips anymore, and still you reside in every part of my brain. I don’t know how you did it. You have ruined me. The selling of the house is going slower than I wanted. And I can’t wait to see you again. Bee, I’m not ashamed that I love you, and we will break the news to your parents. I’m sure I’ll have to calm your dad down. If you could call my number, so we have a daily way to speak, but I do like the idea of writing letters. You always write beautifully. I love you my sweet Bumblebee.

——

Your fingers rummage through the mail on the table, and still nothing from Cole. It was becoming harder and harder to believe that this summer ever even happened. But there were remnants of Cole all around you. You couldn’t deny what you had. Convinced yourself that something was wrong, because Cole never returned. There was zero contact.

You stomp your foot, before running back upstairs. Ignoring your mom calling you back down, before she covers her mouth, “She’s got a damn attitude.”

“Alan.”

“What? You expect me to be calm. Some secret comes into her life, changes everything, and you expect me to be calm? You want me to pretend that while we were gone…she’s our baby. And some bastard took advantage of her.”

“I don’t think that’s what it was,” you and your mom talked regularly. She wasn’t convinced that some man was that good of an actor, making you believe how much he loved you. She, too, believed that this mystery man was in love with you. “Don’t you go up there.”

“She…she needs to head to work. She’s got the store today. And don’t you say, ‘Oh Alan’. She’s not broken. And Hal…” your mom rolls her eyes, standing to walk in another room. “Hal said he can be there for her.”

“Oh, and she goes out with Hal, and everyone in town will talk.”

“Everyone in town is already talking, Trace. They’re talking. She could do worse than Hal,” hearing your parents argue about your life, you sink lower on the wall. Hal was not Cole. He was a good friend, but he was not Cole. “She’s going to work today.”

You wipe a single tear off your face, tracing a finger around your ring. He was real. He was going to be coming back. You just knew it. Felt it in every fiber of your body. He wouldn’t want to stay away. He would want to be with you. Smiling to mask the tears, you push yourself up off the floor. Needing to get ready for work. A sad day that was missing your favorite person. Cole would know what to do to make you feel better. Just him holding you would make you feel better.

——

Biting your nails had become a disgusting habit that you couldn’t stop. Nervously biting at your lip when your hands were busy. No one came in while you were here. No doubt someone had told your ‘secrets’ to the more judgemental people in town. Too much idle time made you think. You didn’t want to think. You knew Cole was coming back.

Hearing the bell ring, you straighten yourself up quickly. Before backing up behind the counter, moving yourself as far away from him as you could. “Got yourself into some trouble, huh?” The disgusting preacher says as he glides through the store. “You were warned what that man was going to do. Now look at you. Alone.”

“I know a few other girls that have been left alone. He hasn’t left me.”

Bill looks around the general store with a sneer, “That truck tends to stand out. You were blinded by money, huh, Bumblebee?” You hated him. You shouldn’t hate people, but you hated him. He chuckles under his breath, grabbing a bottle of Coke, and a packet of peanuts before walking to the front.

“Didn’t peg you for having daddy issues.”

“Three seventy five,” he hands you his card, but you knew he wasn’t finished. The best plan of action was to just ignore him all together. Cole was no longer here to enforce the preacher to stay away, and you were too ashamed to say anything to your father.

“Used goods.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Well, it’s a funny thing about men and women, and why you stupid girls should not fall for a handsome face. Men can have their little play toys, and no one is none the wiser. But you sweet little things, your appeal is gone after you spread your filthy little legs,” a cracking sound echoes throughout the general store, and you glare at him. He was a pig. He could say what he wanted to about Cole because they were all lies. Bill was a pig.

“You know, I always took you as a respectable woman. But you wear that badge of promiscuity proudly with honor. Your daddy can’t get you out of this anymore. Neither can your father,” he smirks at you. His rotund belly jiggling with laughter.

“Get out of here,” his mouth turns up into an evil grin. The perfectly pink mark of your hand stinging into his skin, and you hoped it left a mark until his next service. “Get your disgusting ass out of my store.”

“At least I didn’t fuck you and leave you. You were just the first girl stupid enough in this town to get with a man that was always going to leave. You were warned. If it wasn't you, it would have been some other silly little girl. Why do you think he chose you? Made you his little whore.”

“Do you want a mark on your other cheek so you have a matching pair? I asked you to get out of my fucking store. Now, get the fuck out of my store. I believe you were already told once to stay out.”

“And you need to remember I’m not the only one that has secrets.”

It’s your turn to smile as you turn to the side, reaching below the counter for a gun, “I’m not ashamed of my secrets Preacher Bill. How many of them are you afraid of? Cole will be back. Don’t you worry.”

——

Bee,

I’m going crazy here. I haven’t heard anything from you. I’m sorry if I did something. But this summer was everything to me. The lack of a response from you makes me want to believe you feel differently. But I know you don’t. I know you were feeling the same thing. I hope this isn’t about your parents. We will tell them. I will tell them. I can’t be in that town if I can’t be with you though. Sweetheart, please, just give me something. Tell me you hate me for leaving you. Tell me you never want to see me again. Don’t say nothing at all. Don’t do this. Don’t act like we never existed. I want to give you everything. Every part of me is yours. But don’t ghost me like this. I love you, and I need to hear something. Just please respond with something.

——

“Have you checked the mail?” You lean over into the kitchen, seeing both your parents whispering at the table makes you want to leave immediately. They were always whispering about you and your predicament, “Never mind.”

“Honey, sit down,” you shake your head no, refusing to look your father in the eyes. “Who was he?”

“Nobody. Nobody that…Dad, I love him,” your voice squeaks out, and you cover your face with your hands. “I love him, and he promised to write, and he hasn’t. What did I do wrong?” Alan stands up, wrapping his arms around you and holds you as tight as possible. “I don’t know what I did wrong. I haven’t heard anything from him. But I know how much he loves me.”

“Honey…”

“No! He loves me. He promised he would be back, and he will.”

“Then tell us who he was. Did…did he force himself on you?” Your crying gets louder as you shake your head no. “Then why won’t you tell me?”

“You’ll be mad. He’s coming back. I know he is. He wants to be the one that talks to you,” thankfully Hal walks in, still sweating from the day, “Did you check the mail?”

“Yeah,” he smiles, wiping a hand on his neck. “There wasn’t anything today. Could…can I have a minute alone?” He looks to your father, who nods his head as you walk with Hal out to the front porch swing. Your eyes across the road to that old barn, and your honey bees out in front. You knew he would be back. Cole never once lied to you.

“Maybe it’s time to let this go. Your dad is always asking about him, and — what if he doesn’t come back?”

“He is,” you inform him. Cole Turner would be back. You could feel it in your heart.

“I would like to be there for you. I quit going to the church. Bill was always preaching about a woman saving herself. Basically doing a sermon on how it’s okay to judge you,” you figured as much. You knew smacking him would have its consequences, and you didn’t even care. You were numb to anything that was about Bill. “I’m not Cole, but I’m here.”

“Hal, I never wanted you to be him. There’s only one him. I appreciate the offer, but I can’t think straight right now. I can’t sleep without a constant reminder of Cole being in my life. I can’t be the person you deserve, the person that you desire, because that part of me belongs to him.”

“Could you just think about it? You’re gonna need me,” he gives your thigh a tap. You didn’t need him. You wanted a friend for sure. But you were not looking for someone to take Cole’s place. “There’s only so much your father can do for you.”

“I don’t want sex.”

“I wasn’t offering. I was offering something more than that. Just…just think about it please? I don’t care what anyone says. They can say it about me. I don’t care,” you whisper out a thanks to him. Ready to go to your weekly night at Cole's little house, when Hal stands up and leaves, “No one has to know until you’re ready.”

You watch as his old truck heads down the driveway when you walk back inside, grabbing up your notebook, stuffed with an envelope, “I’m going on a walk,” you scream up at your parents, “Come on, Loretta, let's go walk.”

It was a bit of a trek to get to that little house, but you welcomed the silence. Spring was now turning into summer. Nearly the one year anniversary of when you first met Cole. First time seeing that bright smile and brilliant eyes. You were a goner from that first meeting. You couldn’t, and didn’t want to stay away from him, but the feeling was mutual.

There was no amount of thinking that could change your mind. Cole loves you. He loved you then, and he still loves you to this day. Maybe he needed a bit more time away. His lack of correspondence was what was confusing to you. You had so much you wanted to tell him, and you did. In unaddressed letters. Attaching photos and little notes, along with the letter.

Every week walking to his house, using your key to get yourself in. Making sure things are clean and dusted when you walk into the spare bedroom. Still empty except for that one bed, but underneath was a box of everything you wish you could say to Cole. A shoebox filled with the letters and pictures that were never sent to him. A date on the envelope, and you stare at all of them. He didn’t know. If he did he would be here.

——

“Cole, I think it’s time for you to come home.”

“I can’t,” he tells his mom. He had psyched himself out too many times to come home. Telling himself he just needed to see you in person, and let you tell him how you never wanted to see him again. “I can’t be there if I’m not with her.”

“Cole…I’m not doing well,” he freezes, this phone call eerily similar to the one two years ago. “You need to come home. She’s still here,” his lip trembles, looking at the island in his small apartment. He didn’t need the space. Didn’t need anything anymore. “I didn’t know, but I saw her. Son, please, just come home. You’re a grown man, and you need to act like one.”

“Fine. I’ll come home, but…don’t ask me to buy you anything at that store.”

“I wouldn’t think of sending you there at all.”

There was nothing for Cole here. But there was nothing for him, if you weren’t in his life. He rubs the bee pendant on his necklace in between two fingers, a constant reminder that you were real. He wished he hadn’t left. Maybe he would have gotten more time with you. Wished that he came back sooner, and let someone else deal with the selling of his house.

He wouldn’t make the same mistake again. Packing up everything he has, he is determined to see you. Even if you moved on, he was determined to talk to you. Try and figure out what had happened. Why you never returned none of his letters. You didn’t owe him anything, but he hoped you would give him answers. Something. Anything.

——

“You look fine,” Cole deadpans, staring at his mother. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m just saying it was time for you to man up. You know, it took me a while to come back to this house. But when I did, I saw every week there is a woman that either walks or drives an old truck right down to your house, walks in, stays for an hour or so, and leaves.”

Cole looks down to his house, noticing how it still looked as if someone lived there. But it didn’t make sense, you hadn’t contacted him. The windows looked clean. There were potted plants out on the porch. His chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath; a lump rising up in his chest. It wasn’t possible. You were going to his house and cleaning at least the outside.

“Every week that woman goes to your house. She still loves you. I don’t know what happened, and that’s not what matters. What matters is that she still loves you. She makes sure that yours and her home is taken care of. I would have told you sooner, but I wasn’t here, or I didn’t notice. You know, the county fair is in town. Anybody who is anybody will be there tonight. It’s family night. Or you can wait and see her at the general store. It’s up to you.”

Cole looks back at his house quickly; you had kept it up. Two years later and it still looked just as good, and even better as when he left it. “Go,” his mother whispers, and he walks directly out the door. Jumping in his truck to head to the house first. He hopes to find you at the fair. Any part of you there. Just to see your face. See if you were with anyone. Or if you were still waiting on him the way he was waiting on you.

He slowly turns the knob of his house, and it was like no time had passed. There wasn’t an ounce of dust on any surface. Walking into the spare bedroom, still only a bed remains, but on the top of that bed is a book. Picking it up he can’t help but smile, you had finally did it.

Flipping through the pages, he makes him miss you more. You had autographed it. ‘To the man who gave me the best summer of my life. To the man that stained my heart just like Georgia clay. To the man I don’t want to remove from my life, and to the man that changed my life forever. I love you. Your sweetest little Bumblebee.’

You still thought of him. And with a quick skim, he can see just how much. It was a retelling of your summer together. He needs to see you. Not hesitating to speed his way to the fairgrounds. There was too much unsaid, and you had stained his heart just like he yours.

He throws his truck into park; leaving it in a spot he is sure he’ll be towed from, but he needs to find you. Speed walking through the crowd as his eyes scan around every attraction. Walking around the fair three times, and ready to give up when he hears your laugh.

Spinning around he spots you at a kiddie ride. Your eyes bright and animated as you wave at the passing cars, and a man was standing right beside you. His hand nervously goes around your back before he leans on the gate. Cole is in a trance and can’t look away, and still too scared to walk up to you.

The ride stops and a little boy in overalls runs up to you with his arms reaching up high. You scoop the toddler up in your arms, kissing all over his face when he reaches for the man. Hal. It was always Hal. It was like he couldn’t wait to weasel back in. He couldn’t hear anything but laughter as much as he wanted to. Cole’s demeanor completely changes in an instant. From hope to heartbreak. You moved on.

You didn’t need him the way that he needed you, and this was proof of that. Had made you a family with Hal. It’s what Hal had wanted all along.

As much as he wants to talk to you right now, it wasn’t the time or place. He assumed that you still worked at the store, considering you were still here. Hal must not share your dreams of travel. Or even your need to write. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, he will talk to you. He owed that to himself. To finally be able to let you go.

——

It was like deja vu parking his truck at the store. Not much had changed. Your truck now replaced with what he could only assume was your mom car. Even the ding of the bell was just the same. The only difference was that little boy beside the counter having lunch at a small table. His hands are sticky with honey as he dips an apple in the sugary sweet syrup. Smiling up at Cole when he shoves the wedge in his mouth.

“Hi,” he says over his full mouth. “Mmm,” his hand rubs over his overall belly. Nothing more is on him. Even his dirty little feet stained with Georgia clay tapping to the rhythm of the music.

“Be with you in a minute!” You scream from the back. “Getting ready for fresh sweet tea.”

“Mama,” the boy points into the back. “My mama,” he picks up a wedge of Brie cheese, dipping that in the honey as well when he offers it to Cole. He was beautiful just like you. “Wayton Toe,” he smiles, tapping on his chest while chewing on the wedge. “Some? Good? Nee. Appies.”

“Waylon!”

“Mama!”

“Stop talking to strangers,” you walk around the corner with the pitcher of tea, freezing when you see Cole. It was like staring at a ghost. He looked just the same as that day two years ago. He just didn’t look as cheerful as he once did. “Cole.”

“Wayton Toe.”

“What…what are…what are you doing here?” You sit down the pitcher not even knowing what to do but stutter and stare, and he was motionless. “You came back, and you’re not going to say anything.”

“Mama. Wayton Toe.”

“What’s he saying?” Your happy little boy holds an apple wedge in both hands, doing a happy dance. Thick honey rolling down his chubby arms, before cramming both pieces in his mouth. “Bee, what’s he saying?”

“Bee. My mama,” he smiles over his chipmunk cheeks. The chub covered in smeared honey, and Cole wants to get closer to him and you.

“Cole, this…this is my son, Waylon Cole.”

“Wayton Toe.”

“Oh god,” Cole squats down beside the little boy to really look at him. So much of him reminded Cole of his father. “How old are you?” He holds up one finger, clapping.

“He’s eighteen months old. He was named after his dad,” Cole’s face scrunches up, and he wipes at the tears falling from his eyes, but your sweet boy reaches for Cole’s hand to hold. “Waylon was one of the names his dad had picked out, and Cole…”

“Wayton Toe.”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“How?” It was one thing for Cole to turn up, and you knew he would eventually. But it was entirely another for him to question you. Nothing about your location had changed. You weren’t even sure where Cole was these past few years. “Tell me how I was supposed to tell you about your son?”

“I wrote you,” you shake your head no, needing to lean back on a counter as Cole sits completely on the floor to look at his son. “Bee, I wrote to you almost every single day.”

“I never got any letters. I promise. I checked every day. I wanted to tell you. I did. There’s…there's these letters in your house that I wrote you. They started as the usual love letters. To telling you how scared I was when I found out I was pregnant. How much I missed you, and how much my body was changing. And then when he was born…the letters were all about him. And how much our love made this perfect beautiful little boy. And every time I look at him all I see is his daddy. I couldn’t forget you if I wanted to.”

“Mama cy?” Waylon starts to stand, his dirty feet carrying him closer to you.

“Yes, mama is crying because she’s happy.”

“Why?”

“Waylon…”

“Wayton Toe.”

“Waylon Cole, this is Cole Turner.”

“Me! Me! Me Wayton Toe. Me…mama. Daddy?” Cole hides his face in his hands, his back bouncing as he cries. You had told Waylon about him. He knew that his dad’s name was Cole. “My daddy?”

“Yes, this is Cole Turner. The one that I told you about. He’s your daddy.”

Waylon takes a deep breath, those sticky hands try to remove Cole’s hands from his face. “Me Wayton Toe. Oo Toe Wiggle.”

“Wiggle?” Cole actually laughs, looking back at you his pretty blue eyes are rimmed in red. You couldn’t have dreamed this moment up. You had envisioned the day that Waylon would finally get to meet his dad, but you couldn’t have fathomed it would be this sweet. The way Waylon was tilting his head to the side to look at Cole. Even the way he smiles so big at his dad. Leaning down to pick up Cole’s hand and forcing him to hold his.

“He’s eighteen months old. He can’t say Riggan.”

“Toe Wiggle.”

“Oh lord, son,” Cole sniffles, moving his thumb over to Waylon’s face. Using the appendage to trace over his son’s features. “You…you called me Toe Wiggle.”

“Yep. Appies and nee?”

“He’s offering you some apples and honey,” Cole didn’t know who he wanted to look at more, his son or you. Waylon favored Cole’s father’s baby pictures so much. He is beautiful. “Apples and honey are his favorite.”

“Peachies.”

“He loves peaches, too. Big on peach ice cream. He’s never called anyone else daddy. Well…”

“Papaw daddy,” Waylon nods at you. His sticky finger pointing at Cole before booping his nose. “Papaw daddy and Hal and Etta.”

“Hal,” Cole says with complete irritation. He didn’t like that man. Did not like that he was still in your life, and your son’s. “How is Hal?”

“Don’t be like that. Hal has been good to us,” Cole rolls his eyes, going to stand up, but Waylon reaches for his hand, and Cole starts crying again. “Hal is a friend.”

“That’s all he is?”

“That’s all he ever was. Waylon, go wash your hands. You got to go back home and stay with nanny.”

“No, papaw daddy and Hal?”

“Nanny. Wash your hands,” he waddles off to the bathroom, and Cole walks right up to you. Grabbing at your hand, and you feel the honey residue that Waylon had given Cole. The times you had imagined the two of them getting alone. Knowing that Waylon would follow his dad around.

“Close the store,” Cole whispers when Waylon turns on the water. “Close the store, and…we need to talk. We lost so much time. He lost so much time. Close the store, and come to the,” Cole looks at the floor, words just couldn’t express everything that he was feeling. He had been feeling so many emotions for the past two years, but nothing prepared him for this. Prepared to see a part of his heart walking around on two legs, “Come home.”

“Cole,” you step up closer to him. Running your hand up and down his chest. He was finally back. He returned just like he promised, “I never moved on.”

"Neither did I."

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortott @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @softsatnin @peaches1958 @seitmai @patzammit @openup-yourmind @elrw24 @bxdbxtxh15 @buckysteveloki-me @lilac-tea-time @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @feyfantome @cjand10 @lavender-annd-lilac @sunshine-midnight-rain

[rnebbie]

Skys The Limit (request)

Tom Hiddleston x teen!reader, Tom Hiddleston x co star!reader

Request description: how about Tom Hiddleston with a teen!reader whose just getting into acting? maybe something along the lines of him showing them the ropes? i'm just excited to see what you come up with :D

Requested by: @ohworm-writes

Warnings: lack of sleep in the beginning ???

(A/n): omg YAYYY first request & first fic!! I am so excited to do more. If ur reading this rn… ur witnessing the beginning!! Lolll jk. I hope u don’t mind I added a bit of a twist and I didn’t stick to the plot that well… actually this might be nothing like u wanted LOL IM SORRY … hopefully u like. :D totally fine if not. Lmk!!! Also if anyone wants to be added to my tag list plz totally lmk bc I’ve got no one rn LOL & send more requests!

You’d just gotten into acting not long ago. It’s something you’ve always had an interest for, but only recently did you actually get your first acting job, and you were ecstatic.

You could barely sleep the days leading up to your first day on set. You’d already had your bags packed to leave the first day you’d heard you were signed. And the night before your first day on set, you couldn’t find yourself settling down. That didn’t make a great first impression on your co-star, Tom Hiddleston, As you had bags under your eyes, and though very excited to meet him, you weren’t your true self because of your lack of sleep.

The next morning, once you arrived on set, Tom had two coffees with him. One he was already drinking out of, and one that had your name on it. He smiled and handed it to you. You thanked him and you two walked for a little while together.

“So, I’ve heard you're brand new to the industry. Is this correct?” Tom asks, as you’re walking alongside him. “That appears to be the case.” You reply jokingly in an English accent. Tom can tell you two are going to be good friends, and invites you to dinner after filming is over, whenever that may be.

After filming is finally over for the day, you and Tom take thirty minutes to wash up, before meeting at the restaurant in the lobby of the hotel that you, along with all the crew is staying at, in separate rooms, of course.

“You’re lucky to be working with me on your first acting job. I know everything.” Tom assured you. You’re confused for a moment that this professional actor seems to have such a kind and funny personality, but you laugh, nonetheless. You ask questions, and he answers them as if he’d learned the facts in the first grade.

After that dinner, that’s not the last time he teaches you things. Every time you two are together, he makes sure you learn a new lesson. He doesn’t have any kids of his own, and so he feels like he’s got to share all of his knowledge with someone. He knows that you’re someone worth knowing what he knows, and tries to tell you everything.

He’ll stop you in the middle of your scenes together, saying “pause.” And holding a figure up to the directors, and the cameras, and they know to give you two a minute. One time you two were in the middle of an emotional scene, and he stopped you for the first time. You were pretty angry, as you’d just gotten yourself to cry after massive amounts of practice (that, surprise surprise, Tom gave you.) he kept stopping the scene over and over again. “You know you have more to give, y/n. Use it.” He assured you.

Eventually, after all was said and done, although you were very annoyed with Tom for making you restart over and over, that anger manifested into tears that you were able to use to your advantage. The scene was determined to be one of the best in all of cinematic history. It’s a scene you, and Tom, would never live down. All thanks to him.

“What’s the best piece of advice you feel like you could give me?” You ask him, a little later into the first dinner you two ever had. He pauses for a good minute, and you sit on the edge of your seat, anticipating what it may be. “Never, ever, let anyone tell you what you can and can't do. Prove the cynics wrong. Pity them for they have no imagination. The sky's the limit. Your sky. Your limit.” He says. You sit in awe, and nod your head. “Not bad, Hiddleston.”

~

It’d been five years since you wrapped your movie with Tom hiddleston. You’re much more grown up now, and you’ve had an abundance of jobs. You’re a well known, and successful actor. People look up to you immensely. They always talk about how, though getting into the acting industry only years prior, you seem to have been born for the screen. And people always ask you how you got to know the industry so well.

That’s what you’d been hearing all night. Your throat hurts from how many questions you’d answered on the red carpet. How many “thank you”s you’d beamed to the interviewers. And how many exciting noises you’d muttered out once people congratulated you on your Emmy nominee.

You sit at a table with your closest friends and family, and some of the actors you’d become closest with during your career. All night you wait anxiously, repeating your speech in your head, just in case on the off chance, you win the award.

Once it comes to your division, you close your eyes, and try not to pay attention. Too scared to be denied your prize, but too anxious to accept it. You barely even hear once they call your name, confirming you won the award. You won the Emmy.

You sit, shocked, and your best friend has to nudge your arm to shock you back into reality. You already start tearing up, and you stand up to hug them. Then you make your way to the stage.

Once seeing how many people are in front of your eyes, and how many people must be watching at home, you’re dumbfounded. You feel like every word of the speech you’d practiced a thousand times, just slips away from your memory. You scan the crowd in nervousness, trying to remember the tips you’d follow in middle school when you had a presentation, imagine everyone in their underwear. But once you’d locked eyes with Emma Watson, you had to blink and shake the thought away. That wouldn’t work.

Once you opened your eyes again, the first person you saw was Tom Hiddleston. He was standing up, clapping his hands aggressively, with a massive smile on his face. You couldn’t tell because of how out of it you were, and because you were pretty far from him, but you could almost see his eyes watering as he watched you like a proud father.

You smiled big back at him, acknowledging and silently thanking him. After all, you don’t know where you’d be without him.

“Okay, wow. Hi! Oh my god!” You start, anxiously and completely at a loss for words. “This is absolutely, and utterly not what I was expecting…” you start, getting a laugh out of the majority of the crowd.

“This is just- wow! This is crazy! Thank you so much!” You say, gesturing to the Emmy you’re holding, it feels like an insane fever dream, you’re waiting for a bear to come through the walls and eat your Emmy, or something drastic that would only happen in a nightmare.

“First off, thank you so much to the members of the ATAS for nominating me for such an incredible opportunity and an amazing award, I can’t believe you think I’m worthy of it, but I’m not complaining!” You get another laugh out of the audience. “And a massive thank you to my agency, my manager, my friends and my amazing family for never doubting me in my acting abilities. If not for your love and support, there’s absolutely no way I’d be standing here right now!” You say, wiping a tear from your eye, in authentic awe of the moment you’re experiencing.

You think for a moment about what else you need to acknowledge, what else got you to this point?

You look back to the general area Tom was seated in, and he gives you a huge smile and a thumbs up. Something he’d always done on set when you’d done an incredible job on a take. Any time you needed reassurance, he knew and was there to give it to you. You blink and tears run down your cheeks. You think back to the kid you were five years ago and how lost and new they were to the acting industry, and they feel like an absolute stranger to you now.

“And finally, the biggest thank you is owed to Tom Hiddleston. I don’t even know how I got into the acting business before knowing him, because I swear to god, it’s like I knew nothing! Tom taught me everything I know, and without him I would be absolutely nowhere. I’d just be another kid with their head lost in clouds. The best advice he ever gave me is something that’s gotten me through every day. Every challenging day when I didn’t want to deal with the media, when acting felt like too much work, when I’d cry on set because I felt like I was missing out on normal teenage experiences. Tom was there for everything, and he always said, “Never, ever, let anyone tell you what you can and can't do. Prove the cynics wrong. Pity them for they have no imagination. The sky's the limit. Your sky. Your limit."”

-

Taglist:

1,508 words

[lode-builds]

The texturing on your builds hits so nice. Do you have a specific thought process when doing it?

thank you! basically, I put on a bdoubleo100 youtube video and copy everything he does. hope this helps!

jk lolz long-winded explanation(?) below

when I texture, I think it's helpful to make a gradient of the colors/blocks I want to use beforehand. I dont do this every time, but I think if you're having trouble texturing this is a good place to start. as you get more practice you'll be able to see these gradients WHILE you're building and won’t have to plan them out and stuff. when you're doing this, try to see the blocks as colors/shades, instead of as the blocks themselves. I usually make the base of the build darker than the top, and occasionally add darker "shading" under windows/stuff that sticks out. I think gradients work best for large builds, but they work for small ones too!

aside from shading, gradients work well to make surfaces look kinda stained/damaged

(the world for this wip was on the 1.18 experimental snapshot and got corrupted so I cant finish it😭😭 might make a separate post with the pics I have I think it’s cool. the palette/style was inspired by a build I saw on insta a while ago but couldn’t find the post, lmk if anybody recognizes it!)

gradients are cool, but they aren't your only option for texturing! sometimes random scattering/mixing of blocks is the best option, depending on what effect you want. My Owl House build has a mix of a gradient and random textures, which I think is a good look.

You can also use different shades of the same color to make something look like bricks or other materials. I did this in my steampunk house and castle builds, but in the castle I added a gradient as well!

also, idk if this counts as texturing BUT. and this might not be practical if you’re building something for actual use in survival/etc. BUT. for some reason I think dark windows (like black concrete behind some glass) make everything look like 10x better for pictures. it started out as me trying to hide my unfinished interiors for posts, but it just looks soo gooood and yea

WOW this was long and I feel like I didn’t explain anything lmaooo. as I’m sure u guys know by now i’m very go with the flow while I build, so my explanations are kind of all over the place. I think my biggest help has been looking at stuff other people have made and practicing with what I’ve noticed and eventually putting my own spin on things!

happy building!

[raggaraddy]

Sugar Daddy turned sour

Request: Hi!!!! read all of ur works its all amazing cant believe ur new.. can i request for a yan sugar daddy taehyung x reader x yan sugar daddy jungkook. they found out that that y/n have 2 sugar daddies and they lost their sanity(as if they even have that)...Thank u and YOU GOOD,KEEP GOING💜💞💞💞💞😘😁

A/N: I don't know how to post a reply to a personal message yet because I am new and Tumblr deficient 😅 But I hope you like the scenario ^-^ thanks for the request 💜

Here for Part 2

Summary: Juggling two guys and getting everything you want from them has always been easy for you, and Taehyung and Jungkook are no exception. Or so you thought.

Trigger warnings: Mentions of non-con, assault, cheating, violence.

Yandere! Taehyung

Yandere! Jungkook

Sunday.  Taehyungs day.  

You open your webcam, checking your eyeliner quickly in the startup view as you wait for the Tae to pick up on the other side. He pops up quickly a beaming smile filling his face.  

“Y/n! Baby, I’ve missed you.” He’s radiant. As happy and as bubbly he always is. 

You go along listening to him excitedly run through his past few days, telling you everything in excruciating detail as he jumps from one half-finished thought to another. He may be an adult but he certainly has a young soul. The whole while you feign attention, your fingers continually fidgeting with the diamond necklace or the matching bracelet he had sent you a few weeks back.

“How was your weekend?”  He finally gets around to asking. 

“Not so good. I always have to work so much," You complain, batting your eyes at the camera.  

“You could always quit and come live with me.” He jokes-but not really. It’s a topic he has raised 3 times already.  And you have the same answer ready as always. 

“Daddy, you know I’m a strong and independent woman. I could never let someone else pay for me.” You pout, running your tongue over your lower lip while pushing your chest up a little to draw attention.  “It’s just my rent is so expensive. I feel like I work just to pay the bills.” 

In truth, your rent is already being covered by someone else.  But he doesn’t need to know that. 

While you continue to run through the fabricated details of your weekend, Taehyung is distracted, looking down at his phone.  You know what's happening. It’s like a game. And you’re winning. Your banking app sends a notification, letting you know that K. Taehyung has just sent you a payment. 

You open it up. Yep. That's rent for the month.  Or more, money for that new TV you wanted.  

“Oh! Daddy, noo.” You whine down the camera. “You can’t.  I am okay. Really. Please don’t spend your money on me.” You frown if only to stop the smile that is fighting to fill your face. 

“I want to baby. I have the money, and I just want you to be happy. Don’t stress about bills okay. I’m here.” 

Sometimes, it’s almost too easy.  

“Okay Daddy, if you insist.”

Tuesday.  Jungkooks day.  

With Jungkook it’s a much more straightforward transaction.  He has said he wants to pay for you and he hates the back and forth pretences.  He just wants you to say thank you, smile pretty, and give him all your attention.  

“Do you need anything more for the week?” He asks through the camera.

“No Daddy, you take such good care of me. Thank you.” You smile. 

“You still have the weekend of the 14th off?” He raises his eyebrows suggestively.  Off-screen you quickly scan through your calendar.  

14th, 15th and 16th: Jk weekend.  

Hmm, that came up quicker than you expected. You try to keep your booty calls with them as far apart as possible. 

“Of course, I’m so excited! I haven’t seen you in weeks.” You say, it been less than 100% truthful.

“Months.” He corrects with a surreptitious undertone.  

“Where are we staying this time?” 

You always insist to stay in hotels. Because ‘your apartment feels too busy and mundane, and you want the time you spend with him to be magical and undistracted’. Honestly, you just don’t want him, either of them, in your personal space. You purposefully chose boys who live a few hours away.  It’s hard enough to keep them separated in your everyday life with them being far away. It could only get messy for them to know where you live and how to reach you in person.

You’ve certainly gotten smart at this. Arranging the two men into different days of the week, scheduling them into your calendar to keep them apart and unaware of the other. Both had specifically said very early on that they do not want to share you with anyone else.  And that you were all theirs. And while both of them seemed to trust you, you knew their reactions would be unpleasant, to say the least, if they found out about the other. 

Sugar Daddies can be so possessive. 

But while both these men are very handsome, money is better and more reliable than boys. And if they are stupid enough to spend it all on you, why should you care.

The week passes quickly and it’s the 14th.  Once more you find yourself in the lobby of a 5-star hotel. Jungkook arrived in town early and sent you a message with the room number. 

Time to actually work for your money. 

You knock on the door only to find it slightly open.  Entering there is a trail of rose petals lining the floor leading into the suite. All the lights are dimmed with a warmth of candlelight filling the room. This is so typically Jungkook. Pulling out all the stops to try to impress. 

Dropping your bag at the entrance, you close the door behind you and explore inwards.  

“Daddy?” You call out in a singsong voice. Your heels clack on the tiled floor as you round the corner into the living room. Jungkook is sitting on the lounge, one leg crossed over the other, arms rested up over the back. You smile at seeing him. You always seem to forget just how stunning he is in person. 

“Which one of us are you referring to?” A deep voice startles you from behind. You jolt, spinning to see Taehyung standing behind you leaning against the wall.  

Holy fuck. 

Your mind starts to jumble through what is happening. Thinking about what it was that might have given you away. Evaluating how much they may know. And planning your next move.  

Damn it.  You doubt you’ll be able to smooth talk your way out of this with Jungkook. He’s too direct and absolute. So you’ll just have to accept that that relationship is over. However, you might be able to salvage this situation with Taehyung if you play your cards right. Being defensive should do the trick.

“What is this?” You snap, keeping focused on Taehyung. “This is such a violation of my privacy! You keep smothering me Taehyung! See this is why I tried to find someone else to hang out with.” You stomp your foot. He would always wrap around your finger so quickly with the little girl act. 

“Ha!” He blurts out a short laugh in contradiction to how you expected him to react. “Wow. No, go on. I want to see where this is going.” 

“Do you think we only just found out about each other?” Jungkook pipes up, coming from the couch. 

You sigh. You had almost saved enough for a holiday to the Maldives too. But they seem to know too much. Fine. You can burn both relationships. They were starting to get too clingy anyway.  “Whatever.” You roll your eyes. You got all you could from them. Time to move on to the next.

As you shrug them off, Taehyung steps into the path of the front door. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Both he and Jungkook start to close in tighter. There is a cold tone to his words. Something far too close to a threat for your comfort. Even in heels, both men naturally stand taller than you which usually wouldn’t bother you. But with an unsteadiness to your footing and a very short dress on, in a dark room with two men you have used and spurned, you are feeling even more vulnerable than you feel you should. 

“Move.” You order. 

A smirk on his lips, Taehyung lifts his hand up and backhands you, knocking you back a few stumbled steps. You gasp, your hand clinging to your cheek, eyes wide in shock. He starts forward, Jungkook intervening, standing between the two of you. 

You can not believe he just hit you! He has never done anything like that before.

“No, don’t do that.” He stops Taehyung as he starts to swing again.  Shaking all over, you’re relieved that one of them is seeing sense.  You take the outstretched hand of Jungkook, lip trembling from the burn on your cheek. He draws you closer and you wrap into him for protection. In the same motion, his free hand swings down punching you in the stomach, doubling you over, dropping you to the floor. “If you hit her head, she might get spaced out. I want her to feel this.”

His words send a chill down your spine. This can not be happening.

“Are you crazy!” You gape, trying to speak while gulping down air. Your head is dizzy, your lungs burning.  Kicking off your heels for better movement, you climb back up to your feet not wanting to engage either man. Eyes focused you look past Taehyung to the door, storming forward. “I’m leaving. We’ll forget all of this, okay.” You bargain through short, panicked breath. 

Taehyungs large hand slams you into the wall, pressing his palm against your shoulder. He follows Jungkooks lead, pounding his fist into your gut. And then again. And again.  His hold removes letting you free and you plummet to the ground, crying within broken huffs while cradling your battered torso. 

“You’re right. That is better.” He laughs at Jungkook. 

“Stop!” You beg, unable to raise your voice above a soft yelp. 

“What's wrong baby? You wanted two men. Now you have them.” Taehyungs bright smile returns to his face. This time with an entirely different meaning than it had ever had until it shifts into a straight, harsh look that you have never seen from him. “Didn't you always say you wished there was some way you could repay me?” 

“You said that to me too.” Jungkook joins his side, both hovering above you, trapping you between them, the wall, and the floor. 

Leaning down Jungkooks hand follows you as you squirm away from him. His fingers wrapped around your throat and lift you up, keeping you against the wall. He takes advantage of you being stuck, leaning into you pressing his lips to yours as you resist as much as you can. 

“Baby, you’re going to pay us back for every dollar we spent on you.” He snarls. 

Taehyung turns your face to him, also forcing a kiss on you. “Don’t worry, Y/n, you’ll see that we know how to share.”  

Part 2

[1kook]

espn & bdsm

this is part 6 of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; You would like to personally thank every loud-mouthed, ESPN commentator out there for saving you from Jungkook’s dangerous seduction skills.  warnings; smut (18+) in the forms of brief femdom, handcuffs, nipple clamps, blindfolding, flogging/use of a riding crop, soft dom kook, cunnilingus, spitting, unprotected but passionate, degradation, as always it starts horny n then turns into I love u kink miscellaneous; kook has a swollen ankle so idk how he did all this, jk abuses the fuck outta pet names part 7, revenge gone wrong tbh, this was honestly a beginner’s intro to vanilla bdsm word count; 12.7k

notes; this is like… a healing fic… for the part before lol. also i did not know what was going to happen next as I was writing. anyway entire smut scene was based off THIS bad boy ur welcome fellas and the Jungkook described here is from in the soop episode 2... cutie... yes every single 1 of those words is a link

lmk what you think! a simple ask goes a long way <3

You're at the nail salon with Doyeon when she first mentions it.

“Have you ever, like,” she pauses, making a vague, swivel gesture with her head. You furrow your brows and she sighs. “Topped him. Have you ever been the one to take control?”

Your nail artist blushes, furiously filing away at your nails until the most perfect stiletto shape stares you back in the face. “Oh. Not really,” you admit, wiggling your wet toe nails around in the styrofoam flip flops issued by the salon. “I mean, sometimes I talk him through it.”

Doyeon snorts. “Babe, talking him through it and being the boss are two completely different things,” she says rather dryly, seemingly unbothered by the fact your two nail techs are being subjected to this more than intimate conversation. But you’ve had weirder talks with Doyeon in public; this doesn’t phase you. “Listen,” she says suddenly, dropping her voice down to a whisper that has you leaning closer to hear her. “You know how I’m a member of that site, right?”

You nod. “Oh yeah— Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide!, right?” She kicks your shin, but the jab is muted by the bottom of her own styrofoam flip flop.

“Yeah, just tell everyone here my credit card number while you’re at it,” she hisses. Her anger fades soon enough. “Well, they’re always sending me all sorts of freebies for my devoted patronage,” she explains. She quirks her lips to the side, throwing one brief glance at the blushing nail artists in front of you. Eventually she seems to come to a conclusion. “Long story short they sent me some cuffs and I’m gonna give you them.”

Your jaw drops. “Woah, really? I don’t know… Don’t those usually run kinda pricey?” you ask tentatively. You’re trying to play it off, act like this isn’t something you want, but the reality is so much worse.

The minute the word cuffs had slipped through her lips it’s like a door opened before your eyes. A big, wooden door with chains strapped across it and a padlock you swore you’d never open.

Somewhere in your mind, you had always convinced yourself handcuffs in bed was something you’d like to have done to you. But, because she was your best friend and by extension a personified version of all your freakiest, often filtered, thoughts, it was like Doyeon had reached straight into your cranium and extracted your most secret fantasy— and that was Jungkook in handcuffs.

Your nail artist pats your hand, motioning you to head over to the drying station. Before you can be separated from Doyeon, you whip around to throw her one desperate look. “I have never wanted anything so bad in my life.”

She cackles loudly, easily garnering the attention of every employee and nail enthusiast in the salon with the evil witch vibes she exudes.

Truth be told, your argument with Jungkook had brought upon a newfound appreciation for him. Weird to say, considering you had wanted to kill the dude when it had originally happened. But the great thing about you and Jungkook was that you were flexible people— both in bed and out. A few long conversations later and you had reached the root of the problem.

And that root was your apparent lack of communicating when something was wrong. It was weird to think that anything could ever be wrong when Jungkook was involved. He was your honeybun, sugar plum, pumpy-umpy-umpkin. Your sweetie pie, for lack of better wording, and he could do no wrong—

—is what you’d like to say. But if there’s anything you’ve learned in the past year of dating Jungkook, it’s that perfection was a made up belief that revolved around the idea that someone’s flaws couldn’t possibly be a good thing. And as you’ve come to realize, Jungkook wasn’t the perfect gentleman you’d initially chalked him up to be. He was human, just like you, with his own list of worries and thoughts, and sometimes those thoughts manifested into flaws. They could be ugly or they could be beautiful, but at the end of the day, they all made Jungkook into the person he was— and you loved that person. Disgustingly so.

You had your moments, and he had his. Everything would not always be sunshine and rainbows for the two of you, but it was fine so long as you learned to play in the rain and stomp in the puddles.

Still.

You were you.

A slightly mean, slightly conniving, petty ass human who had been plotting his revenge since the day the two of you made up. I mean, you weren’t actually just going to let him get off the hook like that, were you? He had saved himself last time with a gooey, heartfelt apology and confession, followed by some extraordinary dicking down that had left you Naked and Afraid for three days after.

But you weren’t that easy! No, ma’am. You had to let him know that some gorgeous demon dick was not enough to satisfy you after a fight like that.

Jungkook was in for a desperately needed reality check, one that jingles in your purse when you step out of the Uber that drops you off at his place. You know he’s home because his front light is on, and also because he’d texted you that he was watching some soccer match on tv tonight. He’s a pretty big fan, especially of the club playing tonight, so you decide it’s a perfect night to strike.

Your copy of his key slips right into the keyhole. Your slippers are in the same place they always are, neatly set off to the side right by the stairs. He’s not in his living room, undoubtedly the most perfect place to watch any type of sporting event with that huge Jumbotron of his. The damn thing made it feel like you were in the stadium itself.

There’s a quiet hum coming from upstairs. You creep up the steps, carefully rounding the corner at the landing until you’re staring right into his dimly lit bedroom.

The way Jungkook’s got his bedroom set up is so that you can look directly at his door from the bed, terribly inconvenient for when that sleep paralysis demon hits in the middle of the night and you’re left staring into the dark hallway. He’s snuggled comfortably over his sheets, about three pillows supporting his back. The light of the tinier, more acceptable television he keeps in his room is dancing across his features in bright shades of green. You almost throw yourself onto his mattress like a starfish until you spot the carefully placed foot on the bed.

“What the hell did you do?” you blurt. A wrong move, considering he hadn’t seen you yet and your sudden appearance makes him jump nearly ten feet into the air, almost knocking down the bag of ice that sits on his ankle. “Oh my god, it was that damned Pilates class, wasn’t it?” you fret, rounding the bed until you’re on his side.

“Oh hey,” he says as if you’re not currently pulling the first eight seasons of Grey’s Anatomy to the forefront of your head to treat him. “When’d you get here?”

“Cut the crap, who did this to you?” you ask, sitting beside him with the utmost care. You drop your bag off to the side, the loud clatter of the inside contents vaguely registering in your head. The ice pack comes off easily, revealing a relatively okay looking ankle save for the slight swell towards the more medial aspect of it.

Jungkook takes the moment to sit up, joining you in your inspection of his injury. “No one,” he answers, using his new position to drop a kiss against the side of your head. “I fell off the ladder helping Mrs. Jung across the street.”

You choke. “You fell off a ladder?” you squawk, eyes wide as your gaze shifts from his ankle to his entire body.

He places a hand on your shoulder, “babe, I was on like the third step. It was one of those old wooden ones,” he explains with a nonchalant shrug. “The step just happened to snap on my way down.”

You scoff. “That old lady is out to get you,” you warn him. “Remember the time she almost had you plug in those burnt out Christmas lights for her? The ones that would have electrocuted you to death.”

Jungkook laughs, settling back into his stack of pillows. “In her defense, she’s old,” he offers. He’s wrapped up in a black hoodie, fluffy bangs parted down the middle. He’s got on some blue shorts, a huge difference from his usual dark-toned clothing. He looks so good and warm, and you’re suddenly hit with the fact you can’t possibly handcuff this poor, injured angel to his bedpost and ride his cock into the sunset. “You didn’t tell me you were coming over.”

You deflate, wild fantasies thrown out the window. “Yeah, well,” you sigh, ditching your pants and climbing over him until you’re snuggled into his side. “Wanted to show you my nails.”

It’s a lame excuse. But he buys it, so.

“They’re cute,” he says, taking your hand in his. He turns your hand over, inspects your pretty new acrylics like he actually has any idea how much they cost or how sexy they look. He raises your hand to his face, pressing a smooch against your knuckles that has you heart thumping embarrassingly loud in your chest. God, you hated this fool.

You turn your nose up at him, like you’re some snooty rich girl who couldn’t give him the time of day. Except it’s not like that, and Jungkook knows.

“What’re you watching?” you ask instead.

He’s got that stupid dopey smile on you, the one that takes one nudge against his side to snap him out of. “Ah, just the game.”

You squint at the screen. “Is this Fox Sports?” you ask in disgust.

He pinches your side. “This is ESPN,” he corrects. “And you don’t know shit about sports channels,” he points out. “So sit this one out.” You give in with a huff, cuddling closer into his side while trying to jostle him as little as possible. Jungkook seems to have no deeply rooted concerns about his injured ankle if the way he hauls you into his arms is any indicator. “How did nails with Doyeon go?”

“You know, the usual,” you respond, idly toying with one of the strings on his hoodie as your eyes focus on the little figures running across the screen. He hums, gesturing for you to elaborate. “Talked about sex, how much better than you at life she is, some more sex.”

He scoffs at that. “Doyeon is not better than me, and I have a whole trophy case to prove it.”

“Okay, but have you singlehandedly Twitter beefed with an entire sorority in your freshman year of university and won?”

He frowns. “No.”

You give him a look, one that says stand down now unless you want to lose to my best friend and get your feelings hurt. Jungkook understands. “Anyway,” he announces, turning his attention back to the screen with you. You think his team might be winning—you vaguely remember seeing him wear a similar jersey once—so he’s pretty relaxed for now. “They’re doing pretty good considering they just lost their main striker.”

You have no idea what that means. “Who? Messi?”

Jungkook knows you don’t know. “He doesn’t even play in this league,” he explains anyway.

“Oh, I saw him trending on Twitter last week. Thought he died or something. Whole time it was just a bunch of soccer nerds crying about him leaving his team.”

He laughs. “You should be a sportscaster,” Jungkook decides after your ever-so-eloquent recap, tucking his head cutely against your shoulder. There was a study once that claimed the incessant need to squeeze a baby’s cheeks or hug puppies tightly was actually the innate human response to kill something they felt threatened by. Oddly enough, you find yourself thinking of that as Jungkook’s citrusy shampoo floods your nostrils.

“Oh, speaking of Doyeon,” he says suddenly. “Did you give her my address? I got a weird package from that store she likes that I genuinely don’t remember ever ordering.” You frown, sitting up slightly until you can look at the side of his face, the cute mole on his cheek calling your name.

“What?” you ask. “Was it in her name?” Jungkook nods. You’re about to tear the roof off his house and go hunt that evil wench down when realization dawns on you. “Oh, no, yeah I gave her your address. My mom stayed over last weekend and Doyeon needed to order something nasty. Guess it got delayed until now.”

Jungkook nods and then doesn’t say much else, which is weird considering the circumstances. You expected him to gently scold you for carelessly giving the psycho that was Kim Doyeon his address, but she’s been here a few times to pick you up, even came over for beer night once. She probably knew it anyway, but you still expected some type of reaction of disapproval from him.

Something’s off, and you know better than to leave it at that. You poke his cheek, right where that mole you’d been eyeing was. “Did you open her package?” you ask, grin slowly consuming your features at the fact Jungkook was apparently a mail snooper.

He looks away. You laugh. “Oh my god, you did,” you cackle, sitting up beside him to get a good look at the blush growing on his cheeks. “What did you see?”

“Nothing,” he huffs, pretending to be overly invested in his soccer match again, but that ship died the moment you stepped into his room. “Babe, I can't see the match.”

You roll your eyes, purposefully shifting in front of him so he’s forced to look at the maniac look in your eyes. “What did you see, Jeon Jungkook, and are we going to steal it from her again?”

His cheeks bloom impossibly darker at that. “No!” he coughs, pointedly avoiding your gaze.

But your curiosity is at its peak now, his reactions only exacerbating it. You grab him by the shoulders, hands balling the material of his hoodie as you give him one firm shake. “What did you see,” you demand.

“Oh my god,” he gives in. You release him and he flops back onto his pillow mountain. “They were things,” he explains slowly, cheeks rosy. “For your, y’know,” a vague gesture over his chest.

You frown. “A bra?” you guess. “I’m not gonna lie, Kook, think I just lost a little respect for you.”

“No!” he huffs. “They were… little clamps. For your nipples.”

If this was a cartoon, you’re almost certain you’d be that character with the object in question in their eyes, heart fluttering in your chest at the words that leave his mouth.

Immediately, two things become obvious to you.

One, Kim Doyeon was a bigger freak than you’d expected who obviously dabbled in an assortment of trades. Clamps, your brain screams, overwhelmed with the image that appears in your head, the one that has a shiver running straight to your core. You would have to thank her for this gracious, unintentional gift she’s bestowed upon you.

Two, you’re gonna have to write her the best, most plausible apology letter tomorrow when you inform her those clamps have been lost in the mail, never to be seen again. Or you could just straight up tell her you snatched them up the moment you found out what they were, but you doubt that’ll go over well.

Jungkook groans. “You have that look in your eye,” he points out. You snap your attention back to him. “And I just wanna say in advance that I don’t think i can give you the fun night you deserve, baby,” he apologizes, motioning towards his still swollen ankle.

Something distinctly mean switches on inside of you.

You flash him a sweet smile that has him letting down his guard. You lean forward, pressing a soft peck to his cheek as you climb down the bed towards your forgotten purse that’d been resting on the floor until that point. “Who said I needed you to have fun?” you throw over your shoulder, carefully slipping Doyeon’s first gift close to your body so he won’t see.

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed look. “Really,” he says dryly, “you think you can have fun without me?” He almost sounds cocky, as if the idea of you even enjoying yourself the teensiest bit without his help seems unfathomable.

You grin, padding over to his bedside, where you carefully pick up his hand. You mirror his actions from before, pressing a sweet kiss against his knuckles that makes that conceited look slip off his features for a second, eyes soft.

Click.

Jungkook frowns. “What the—“ before the sentence can leave his mouth you’re lunging forward, wrestling his hands above his head, until they’re both secured at his headboard by the soft cuffs Doyeon had given you that afternoon at the salon. Jungkook’s wide eyes stare back at you, briefly leaving to glance up at the silver chain that wraps behind one of the rungs of his headboard. “Babe,” he says slowly. “What the fuck.”

You beam at him, leaning down to snatch a pillow from beneath him so he’s better positioned, leaning back more. “So cute,” you gush, taking in the way his raised arms have the hem of his hoodie lifting at the waist. There’s a faint trail of hairs around his belly button that disappear beneath the elastic of his shorts. “Do you like them?”

Jungkook blinks. “Baby,” he says a second time, much slower and a little too calm for your liking. It almost gets swallowed by the roar of the fans on TV. “What is this?”

You ignore him, scampering around his room until you find the hot pink Sexuality Unleashed packaging peeking out from beneath his bed. Sure enough, it’s in Doyeon’s name but his address. A whole complicated mess just for some nipple clamps she’ll never see again. It’s what’s inside anyway, not that you thought Jungkook was lying, but there’s something about the actual, carefully wrapped packaging that makes your heart and pussy flutter.

“Oh! Aren’t these the prettiest things?” you exclaim, whirling around to where Jungkook is shaking up a storm with his cuffs, pout growing on his features the longer you leave him there. The ice pack slips off his ankle, falling onto the comforter beside him from all his movement.

Jungkook doesn’t seem the least bit interested in the silver nipple clamps in your hands, too busy trying to free himself from the sudden trap you sprung on him. “Sweetheart, we can play with those tomorrow, alright?” he tries, relaxing his arms and finally looking your way. There’s a frustrated furrow to his brows, one you rarely see but adore very much. “Just undo these cuffs for me, yeah?”

You tilt your head to the side, placing a hand on the inside of his calf that you trail all the way up as you move to stand beside his hip. His thighs flinch at your touch, tensing when you stop just before the crotch of his pants. “Mmm, don’t think so,” you smile, dropping the thin chain beside him.

Your shirt goes first, peeled over your body until you’re left standing in your bra. It’s nothing too special this time, just your average run of the mill comfort bra hugging your chest. But that doesn’t really matter, especially not with the way you’re hoping things play out tonight. You’d discarded your jeans a few moments prior, so the shirt joins them on a pile on his floor.

As much as he tries to act irritated by your refusal to release him, there’s a slow stirring beneath his shorts. It’s emphasized by that bright blue material, cock swelling as he watches you take off your clothes. “Baby,” he warns, possibly for the last time. But you won’t know unless you push some more, you tell yourself, placing one knee on the edge of the bed, the other thrown across his lap.

“Wow,” you marvel, picking the chain up once more. Jungkook shifts beneath you, half hard cock brushing against the cleft of your cheeks. “Don’t you wanna see what it’s like, Jungkookie?”

He says nothing, watching you with solemn eyes that leave no room for reading him. Behind you, the game commentator is chattering up a storm.

Doesn’t matter, especially not when this flimsy metal had you so completely hypnotized. You reach behind yourself, unsnapping your bra with one fluid motion that has the cups falling onto your lap, soft chest on display for the man before you. Your breasts spill out slowly from their cage, pretty hardened buds slowly coming into his view. They make him pause his fussing, half-lidded gaze falling to the swell of your chest hungrily. His hands jerk, the cuffs doing their job of keeping them there.

You grin, placing a hand on his chest, over his hammering heart. “Do you wanna see me wear them?” you croon, tugging the material of his hoodie up his stomach, until your thighs are sitting directly on his tiny waist, thin thong just over his belly button. You trail your hand up, letting it brush up the side of his neck and bury into his scalp. You give an experimental tug that has his eyes squeezing shut. “Yes or no, Jungkookie?”

He’s being a huge brat for you, eyes scrunched up together like the sight of you enjoying yourself sans his touch is unimaginable. Another tug of his hair and he’s exhaling shakily, a quiet, “yes,” slipping past his lips.

The chain drops onto his chest with a quiet thud, shocking him enough to blink his eyes back open. Releasing your hold on his hair, you sit back on his lap, towering over his fidgety body like a goddess at a temple, him the lowly worshipper beneath you.

Your hands crawl over your body, starting somewhere around your waist. The glide up over your tummy, caress the underside of your breasts teasingly. Sure Jungkook knew your body well, but you knew your body best. One hand rubs teasingly over your breast, palm pressing down slightly against where your nipple lies, while the other drops down between your thighs, slowly grinding against your mound.

“Look, Jungkookie,” you gasp, body twitching at your own hands. You take a hardened nub between your fingers, rolling it back and forth until it’s standing at its peak. “I can do it without you,” you tease, rolling your hips against him slowly. The thin material of your thong does nothing to save you from the delicious swell of his cock against you. “F-Fuck,” you whimper, circling a finger over your clit. “It’s, it’s even better.”

His restraints jiggle against the bed frame, an obvious look of distress crossing his features. “No,” he huffs out a whine, tugging at the cuffs as you slowly unravel on his lap. They don’t give, no matter how much he pulls. You know he’s holding back, afraid of damaging his headboard, and you take advantage of the fact as you move to roll both nipples between your fingers. He groans harshly, jaw tight. “Hate you,” he hisses, hips wiggling beneath you. “Hate you, hate you.”

You breathe out an airy chuckle. “R-Really?” you ask, trembling hands finally reaching back for that second gift of the day. Your breath is shallow, so thoroughly wound up from your own playful hands, and you tremble at the mere brush of the cool metal. “Oh fuck,” you whimper, bringing them up to your chest, “I’ve never done this before,” you confess.

There’s a sense of amazement that consumes you at the thin chain you hold in your hands, the pretty gold painted clamps on each end. It makes you shiver, body unconsciously grinding down against Jungkook’s lap where his engorged cock was fighting against the material of his shorts.

“Then let me help you,” he tries, the childish tone from before melting into his usual silky smooth baritone. Jungkook even softens his gaze at you, let’s his tongue peek out to wet his lips as you almost seriously consider his request.

Had it not been for the sudden loud shout from the sports commentator behind you, a long obnoxious gooooooaaal, you probably would have fallen victim to that honey-eyed gaze. You would like to personally thank every loud-mouthed, ESPN commentator out there for saving you from Jungkook’s dangerous seduction skills.

Without a second thought, you bring one of the little camps close to your chest, giving it a few experimental squeezes until the nerves are replaced with an overwhelming wave of horniness that even Jungkook can sense. “Fuck,” he groans, shaking his restraints back and forth like a wild animal as you slowly get to clamping your left nipple.

You’re not sure what you expected; part of you had thought it was going to be an excruciating pain, one that would make you want to scream and shout in sheer agony. The other part had reduced it to a barely there pinch that would never live up to your fantasies. As it stands, the sensation of the clamp around your swollen nipple sits right in between, drawing in a choked gasp that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“Baby, sweetheart,” Jungkook gasps alongside you, eyes zeroed in on the pinched off bundle of nerves. There’s a sudden grinding sound that fills the air, like the sawing off of wood that definitely doesn’t sound good, and it’s a direct result of the fight he puts up against his headboard. “Please, please,” he begs, muscled arms tugging back and forth. “I have to touch—“

The second clamp goes on, making your entire back arch as if you were possessed. You're not, just extremely overwhelmed by the prickle of pain on your tits that makes you grind down against his cock, hands fisting the front of his hoodie like it’s the only thing grounding you right now. “Oh,” you shudder, thighs quivering at the heightened stimulation you receive from the clamps sitting on your nipples. “Kook, I-I can’t.”

He growls, hips bucking beneath you in a crazed effort to better situate you on his lap. “You gotta take these off me,” he rasps out. The next buck of his hips makes the chain dangling between your breast brush dangerously close to his face. He’s unintentionally goaded on by the TV in the room, the annoying drone of the commentator shouting something about never giving up. “Can make you feel so much better, sweet girl,” he cooes, jutting his head out like he needs a kiss.

Your head feels woozy, pussy throbbing at the sensations being channeled down into your core. Your eyes flutter shut, and before you can think it through, you're blindly reaching for the chain, giving it one light tug that has you mewling like a kitten. “O-oh, fuck,” you sob, looping your finger around the thin chain carefully. Another tug that pulls against your nipples sends a gush of wetness down between your thighs. “Cock,” you slur dazedly, “need your cock.”

Jungkook shudders out a long breath. “Le-Let me go then, sweetheart,” he chokes out, “let me fuck that pretty little pussy for you.”

“Uh uh,” you disagree, bringing another angry buck out of him, metal cuffs rattling loudly. “Want you to watch,” you pant, reaching behind you for his shorts. “Watch me, Jungkookie.” It takes three tries for you to get a grip, the elastic material slipping from your fingers before you finally gain some semblance of control and paw them down . The shorts and the boxers came off together, his engorged cock springing up to tap against your ass. “W-Watch,” you repeat dazedly, leaning forward with one hand on his shoulder to line him up with your dripping hole. Behind you, the commentator is droning on about core balance or something of the sort. It takes two tries as you blindly have to tug your panties to the side as well, and just as you have his fiery red tip against your entrance, something else happens.

He catches you, pearly teeth biting down on the chain that connects your clamps in a motion you can only liken to a bloodthirsty shark jumping out of the water, jaws snapping to catch its prey. It dangles in his face, the same way his own necklaces have done to you so many times before. But the difference between you and Jungkook was that while you let his assortment of necklaces hypnotize you, drag across your face painfully, he doesn’t. He snaps forward, catches it between his teeth.

You mewl loudly, foggy vision turning onto him. Jungkook’s got this unreadable look on his face, likes he’s pissed off and turned on all at once. “You’re not in charge,” he murmurs around the chain, the s and c sounds all slurred together. “You will never be in charge, silly girl, you got that?” he spits, yanking his head back like an animal, pulling your upper body with him by the two golden clamps on your nipples.

There’s tears in your eyes, lining your waterline and threatening to fall with each tug his mouth gives against the chain of your nipple clamps. He’s got his neck craned back as far as he possibly can with a pillow beneath him, chain links digging into his bottom lip. “Y-Yes,” you sob, your entire body quivering at the way he so easily manages to overthrow you, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, solemn eyes flickering across your twisted features once more. He gives another purposeful tug, head snapping back just the tiniest bit, but it’s enough to tug you forward again, a loud whimper torn from your throat. “Undo these cuffs for me, sweet girl,” he commands softly, jiggling the same restraints he’d spent the better part of fifteen minutes fighting against.

“Y-Yes,” you whimper, hands wildly slapping down on his bedside table. You had had half the mind to leave the key there when you had retrieved the cuffs, telling yourself it would be easy access afterwards. It’s not, apparently, the silver pick falling just out of reach. For some reason— it’s probably the sensitivity and horninesss, the pinpricks of pain that originate from your nipples —this fact frustrates you to the point of tears.

“Easy, doll,” Jungkook talks you through, voice low and soft beneath you, “relax and grab it for me, okay?” You nod, angrily blinking away a tear that drips down your face. It splatters on Jungkook’s cheek, bringing a soft huff of amusement from him.

Finally the key brushes your hand, and you sigh in relief, shakily leaning forward to undo the lock above his head. He releases his killer chomp/grip on your chain just as you release his cuffs. “I-I’m sorry,” you sniffle, a sudden need to apologize as you watch him rub at the raw skin around his wrists. “I didn’t—“

“Shhh,” he says, cuddling you into his chest. “It’s alright,” he says simply and you believe him.

Which ends up being a terrible mistake exactly ten seconds later when he’s shoving your face into the sheets, your cries and whimpers muffled by the sounds of the game on TV as he winds your arms behind your back. You struggle for all of five seconds before a soft click resounds from behind you.

“Did you think I’d just let that slide, sweet girl?” he growls against your ear, hot breath fanning across your skin. “I'm not your dog, __,” he spits, suddenly yanking you up by your cuffed wrists. Your chest is heaving, arms aching from the way he’s got you on your knees, blind to whatever he’s doing behind you. “Don’t lock me up, because I’ll always come back to bite.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you stammer, flinching when a hand snakes around your waist, an experimental tug to the chain of your clamps. It sends a shudder down your spine, amplified by the hot press of his body behind you. “I won’t do it again!”

“I know you fucking won’t,” he laughs meanly, trailing his hand down over your mound. One finger circles your clit through your underwear, a shaky sigh exiting your lips at the jarringly light touch. “Because I’m gonna fuck you until you’ve learned your lesson, silly girl.”

“I said sorry,” you whimper, thighs quivering. His cock brushes up against you, the same cock you were about to ride until the sunset. Oh how the tables have turned.

A hand slips beneath your underwear, pad of a finger rubbing against your swollen clit. “Oh,” you exhale, surprised with the suddenly gentle touch following his words. “Th-That’s nice,” you murmur, head lolling forward at the slow rhythm he sets, playing with you like you were a toy that needed warming up.

“Yeah?” he husks out. There’s a yank to your clamps that makes you gasp, chest following the motion as if it’ll reduce the shock. “You think this is about making you feel nice?” he murmurs. Another tug, followed by another, until he’s raining down a series of rhythmic shocks onto your tits that make you shiver and twitch, tongue heavy in your mouth to the point you feel like you’re drooling.

“Wait,” you whimper, arms twisting behind you. “Hurts, hurts” you cry, arching your back like it’ll save you from the steady stimulation against your rock-hard nipples.

“Does it?” Jungkook hums, one hand working away at your clit. He swirls it around his finger, pressing down on the nub in an attempt to distract you. But it only heightens the sting coming from your breasts, the blossom of pain that grows over each mound the longer he plays with you. “Good. Want your pretty little body to hurt for me, baby.”

Right after saying that he releases the grip on your chain, letting it swing back and forth until it eventually rests on your stomach, throbbing nipples spared for now. A breath of relief washes over you now that you only have to worry about the hand playing along your folds. The TV is still flickering to your right, but the commentator's voice sounds fuzzy and so far away, like he’s in a whole different dimension while you and Jungkook are here.

Your reprieve lasts shorter than you expected, as his free hand slowly begins creeping up your waist, fluttering over the little gold clamps pinching your nipples. “Pretty girl,” he compliments, nudging one tender nub with a playful finger. “Pretty, pretty baby,” Jungkook murmurs as he begins massaging the scorching hot skin around your nipples gently. There’s a warm kiss pressed to your shoulder, followed by a trail up the side of your neck. You shudder, trying to focus on the hand that creeps down your folds, teases itself against your entrance.

“Jungkook,” you whine softly, rolling your head to the side so he can suck bruise after bruise onto your skin. You’re definitely drooling, the saliva thick and heavy in your mouth. “T-Too much.”

“Thought you wanted that,” he mumbles, kissing up and up until he’s at your jaw and then he’s at your mouth, languidly kissing you. He’s doing that thing again where he’s hellbent on drowning you in his spit, and if you didn’t know better you’d think he was preparing you for something. “Wanted me to watch you bounce that tight little cunt on me while your tits were like this,” he says, punctuating his statement with a light slap against the side of one breast. It makes you jump, a moan catching in your throat.

The finger that had been playing meanly along your wet folds eases itself past your lips, plunges head first into the aching heat inside of you. He works it against your walls, thumb over your clit as he curls his finger inside of you. You moan loudly, shaking in your restraints. The hand over your chest squeezes, pushes the clamp deeper against your breast until your entire body is short-circuiting.

Your first orgasm comes over you with all the grace of a lightning bolt; it’s sudden and jerky, has every nerve ending wildly spasming as you whimper his name. “No more, no more,” you beg, head lolling back against his shoulder. He shows you no mercy, simply rubs furiously over your clit, until you’re jerking into his maniac hand.

When it’s over, he places a kiss against your jaw, curling his finger inside once more “Play with yourself,” he whispers.

“H-Huh?” you stutter, the rattle of your cuffs loud in both your ears, but not as loud as the breath you were trying to catch post-orgasm. You wonder if maybe he got ahead of himself again—he occasionally did that, thinking ahead to a point you hadn’t reached in your normal progression of sex —but suddenly he’s shoving you back down again, the finger that was slowly driving you insane rudely exiting your cunt.

You flop down against the mattress with a squeal, wiggling around like you actually had a chance of doing anything with him watching you like he is. You struggle for a few beats, every shift against the mattress rubbing harshly against your breasts until you nearly want to cry.

Just as you reach that point, he’s rolling you into your back, hands uncomfortably bent beneath you. It leaves you unwillingly arching to accommodate them, tits practically presented for him to see. “Pretty girl,” Jungkook groans, reaching down for the first time that day to touch himself.

His self restraint was truly unmatched, you realize, watching him squeeze the base of his cock. He runs a palm over his abdomen, up his chest. He drags the material of his hoodie along with it, eventually shucking it off somewhere to the side. His hair, so fluffy and soft, flops over his forehead, a few defined strands tickling his eyebrow.

The mere sight of him alone made you shiver, pussy clenching at the wet dream before you. He’s not an idiot either, obviously aware of what the sight of his body does to you, the tattoos littering his entire right arm that hypnotize you. The faint glow of the TV screen against his side makes him look like the cover star of every middle-aged wife’s erotic romance novel. He reaches said arm down, runs a hand along your thigh until you’re spreading them wide for him.

He doesn’t touch you like you want, only slides over your body until he’s toying with the chain of the nipple clamps that were slowly becoming the bane of your existence. “Open,” he says suddenly, and you do. Your mouth drops open, tongue stuck out slightly even if you don’t know why. He’s ingrained the response into you by now, made you into a desperate slut always ready for anything in your mouth.

This time it’s the stupid, stupid chain connecting your nipple clamps. He tugs it until it’s pulled up, the pull against your nipples making you whimper and writhe. The metal is cool when it touches your lips, but his fingertips are warm. “Good girl,” he praises once you bite down; even this sends a shock of nerves down your spine and to your pussy. “Just like that.”  

A muffled whimper escapes your lips, tears clouding your vision at the stimulation that was quickly overwhelming you again. Part of you thinks no more, please, I can’t. But the other has you spreading your legs for him, quivering pussy desperate to be filled.

The distress must be obvious in your face if the way Jungkook kisses your neck is any indication. He’s got one hand massaging against the underside of one breast, like he’s soothing the striking pain of your pinched nipples for you. If anything, it only strings you along more. “Stupid baby,” he chuckles meanly, a soft puff of laughter against your jaw, “thinking she could push me down.”

He leans back onto his knees, that same careful brush against the inside of your thigh bringing about an embarrassing whimper as he peels your thong away. “But you didn’t really want that, did you?” he eggs on, slowly shifting down against the bed, until his mouth is hovering over your exposed lower lips. His breath is warm, makes you yearn for him to be closer. “You like when I shove my cock into your little pussy, right? Like how it feels when I turn you into my little slut like this,” he sighs, pressing one chaste kiss against your thigh that makes you pull at the cuffs behind your back.

Soon, his mouth is on your clit, the same clit he had previously pampered with his hands but chooses to play with again. He licks an obscenely wet stripe from your throbbing hole to your clit, tongue curling devilishly towards the end. You whimper, though the sound is distorted around the chain in your mouth. Jungkook groans, dives mouth first into your cunt until he’s suffocating himself. His cute nose is pressed against your clit, and he takes advantage of the fact by taking one, dramatic sniff with his eyes rolled back. A soft moan escapes him.

“Fuck,” he shudders, “smell like heaven for me.” You moan at his sweet words, eyes squeezed shut as if that’ll stop the buckets of overwhelmed tears that you’ve been fighting off since the moment the clamps came on. “Wanna give you the world, angel,” he breathes, licking languidly against your folds, tongue occasionally peeking inside.

You mewl and writhe, every movement sending a tug of pain over your nipples. You want that gorgeous cock deep in your cunt, want to feel him in your womb, but you can’t voice any of this with the chain of the clamps between your lips.

Jungkook sits up suddenly, and you’re thinking yes, finally, before the look on his face has you screeching to a halt. There’s something distinctly different about him, a look you don’t think you’ve ever seen in bed before. Your thoughts are only confirmed when his foot slides onto the floor, as if he’s about to leave.

The panic must be evident on your face, because Jungkook is quick to swoop in and reassure you he’s not done with you yet. “Wanna fuck your little pussy,” he admits, carding a hand through your hair. “But the truth is I don’t think you deserve that just yet.”

With that he slinks off the bed, leaving you writhing in confusion as he heads off for the closet behind you. You can’t see what he’s doing, can only hear the shuffling of something back and forth. The TV is still on, the loud cheering of the fans muffling his clattering. You’re suddenly reminded of his swollen ankle, craning your neck to tell him to not overdo it, when something dark covers your eyes.

He’s standing just beside the edge of the bed, his signature teddy bear heat emanating off in waves so thick you could touch them. “Do you trust me?” he murmurs, voice close but not close to your ear.

Something swells in your chest, an emotion so intense your entire pelvis tightens up at the realization that Jungkook was asking for permission to blindfold you. You’re almost certain it’s one of his ties, a silky black thing that covers your vision for the most part, save for a little crack by where your nose juts out. A shuffle to your side, and then he’s gently prying the chain he had pushed past your lips earlier out. “Need an answer, ___,” he says quietly, almost nervously.

“Yes,” you gasp, your entire body set aflame at the sudden turn of events.

If you were being honest you would have never predicted your night would end like this. Maybe you came in a little too cocky, a little too optimistic for the night. It was supposed to be Jungkook handcuffed and powerless, you remind yourself— how on earth did you get here?

“Good girl,” he praises, giving you a little encouraging nudge to raise your head for him to actually tie the knot behind your head. It’s definitely one of his suit ties, you realize, because there’s a distinct cross-stitch pattern that you can feel only when it’s tightened against your skin, pressing against your fluttering eyelids. When he releases you, you’re suddenly all too aware of the sense he’s deprived you of.

“K-Kook?” you call out with a tremble in your voice. The rhythmic pattern of his footsteps rounds the bed again, and then there’s a soft touch against your leg.

“Right here, sweet girl,” he reassures you. The bed dips by your legs as he closes in on you, still tied up and on the verge of a second orgasm that he snatched away before your very eyes; not that you can see it anymore. His hand slides over your stomach, tugs playfully at the clamps. You moan, the sensation magnified tenfold by the fact you can’t see nor anticipate his actions now.

His hands glide like two sailing boats over the broad expanse of sea that is your body, molding against your curves like waves as they go. He hums appreciatively, and you find yourself glad you can’t see him. You can’t possibly imagine with what eyes he’s looking at you now.

You bask in the glory of his attention for another beat before he retracts his touch.

And then, suddenly, something distinctly not hand-like, and weirdly soft traces over the inside of your thighs. “Kook?” you ask tentatively.

No response.

It runs over your skin in the same way his hands just did, a unique shape your brain scrambles to put a name too. It’s soft, so soft. But cold to the touch. Inanimate for sure. It’s a toy, your brain supplies belatedly, but that much you already know.

It’s heart-shaped, you realize, just as it thwacks down against your pussy.

You shriek at the suddenness of it all, thighs clamping shut. Your heart is thundering at a pace of a rabbit’s, chest rising and falling as you blindly piece together what just happened.  “Kook?” you whimper a second time, head craning back and forth in a desperate attempt to track his next move.

He’s not touching you anymore, but the bed is still dipping by your feet, so you deduce he must be there. You test your theory by sliding your foot against the sheets, lower lip trembling at the idea of him not being there.

Jungkook catches your ankle with one warm palm, slightly calloused from years of weightlifting. He raises it up, the cold air of his room hitting your exposed pussy. “You liked it,” he says, not a question but an observation. Your pussy throbs, the phantom strike against it lingering. A kiss to your ankle.

“Wh-What is it?” you cry, unconsciously pressing your leg closer to him now that you have his location. (You don’t see the soft smile on his face at your action.) Ever so slowly you let your thighs open again, now anticipating the next touch of that thing— that riding crop, you realize.

Jungkook confirms. “It’s a riding crop,” he explains, excitement curling around his words. Suddenly, it returns, this time against your stomach. He doesn’t strike you like he did before, simply lets it run across your tummy. “Heart-shaped. It’s so pretty,” he sighs dreamily. “Reminds me of you.”

You nod anxiously, stomach muscles tensed the longer it stays there. Jungkook obviously sees this, lifting it to give you the lightest of taps that still manages to make you gasp. “Cute,” he laughs, trailing it back to where it first touched down.

“Oh,” you tremble, thighs twitching as it pats tenderly over your clit. “Wai-Wait,” you warn, body arching as he runs it down, down your swollen folds. “No,” you weep, going to close your legs. But Jungkook predicts your moves, pressing your thigh down harshly against the bed.

“Shh,” he soothes, tracing the heart down your folds, pressing it flat against you. There’s a distinct lining over it that makes your hips jump, a faux-velvet covering the tip that tickles your skin. “Sit still for me.”

“No!” you gasp. Your back arches, body betraying you as it pushes your pussy against the toy. “I can’t, I can’t, Kook,” you sob, lips contracting around the gaping nothingness in your hole.

He condemns your attitude with a harsh swat of the riding crop against your cunt, tearing another high-pitched squeal from your lips. It’s followed by another against your clit that makes your body spasm. “Bad,” he chides. “Supposed to be my perfect girl.”

“I c-can’t,” you whine, the darkness over your eyes making the sensations ten times more intense. You don’t know where he or the riding crop are if they’re not directly touching you. Even then, the image is fuzzy in your head. “Need you,” you pant.

You try to reach for him, try to pull him into your arms. But you’re reminded of the cuffs holding you back, the metal digging into your skin behind you. You sob at the realization, angrily shaking your hands back and forth like maybe acting like a tantrum-throwing child will save you. It doesn’t.

Instead there’s a tug at the chain resting on your stomach, one that makes you cry out in pain when it pulls at your terribly sensitive nipples again. Jungkook uses it to pull you close, just a small inch off the bed that has you gasping for breath nonetheless.

“N-No,” you wail, nipples throbbing from all the sensations you’ve put them through tonight.

A chaste peck against your trembling lips. “Tell me how it feels,” he purrs, nose brushing against yours. Even with the tie obstructing your vision, the latest version of your boyfriend burns itself into your eyelids, force feeding you his sweaty skin and damp hair until even his breath against your face is enough to bring you to the edge.

“I-It’s scary, Kook,” you sniffle, listening for any signs of a reaction. But even if he did show one, your breathing is too loud and the ESPN channel is still blaring on screen. “Scary,” you whimper, lunging forward in a desperate move to feel the familiar brush of his tongue against yours. You miss.

“Do you want to stop?” he asks carefully, like he’s afraid he’s pushed too far.

He has. But fuck, do you love it.

“No,” you wail, lips smushed somewhere along his cheek, near his jaw and not his mouth like you wanted to. “Feels good, feels so fucking amazing,” you babble, cut off halfway through by a hiccup from your sad cries. “Wanna cum, wanna cum for you like this.”

Jungkook chuckles in relief, tilting his head until you can catch his lips with yours. It’s probably an awkward angle you assume, him adjusting for your vision-less whims, but it feels so good. It sends a shock to your pussy, his plush lips against yours. Without him telling you, you’re opening your mouth for him. “Spit on me,” you beg pitifully.

Jungkook groans, and you can almost visualize the look on his face perfectly— the tensing of his jaw, the push of his Adam’s apple, the pucker of his lips. “God, you’re disgusting,” he sighs, a fat glob of spit hitting the back of your tongue. Without your vision, you don’t see it coming, recoiling with a whiny mewl. The thin trail of saliva that follows trails across your chin when he finally reels back. You swallow greedily, wondering how soon is too soon to ask him to do it again.

With your full permission to move forward, Jungkook wastes no time trailing the riding crop over your wet folds, collecting your oozing pre-cum on the tiny heart as he roves it over your cunt. “Fuck, you can probably cum like this too, can’t you?”

You can’t answer, too caught up in the featherlight brushes. Even if you wanted to say something, one sudden strike against your pussy renders you speechless. “Mmh!” you hiss, biting down on your lip.

“Come on,” Jungkook encourages, resting a hand on your thigh. He presses the crop against you again, pushes down until the flat apex of the heart where it meets the flexible stem of the toy is pressing against your cunt hotly. He grinds it down against you, takes a sick pleasure in the pathetic way you arch up into it, rut against the little heart like it can provide even half the pleasure his hands usually would. “Talk to me, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

Your body is on fire, every nerve, every sensation shooting straight to your most erogenous areas— your cunt and your nipples. Talking seems like the farthest thing from your mind right now, too caught up in the way he roughly pushes the crop against your clit. A whimper rips itself from your throat, shuddering at the sensation. Unconsciously you jerk away from him, only to be scolded with another thwack against your quivering pussy lips. “A-Ahh,” you wail, squirming beneath him like a worm that can’t sit still. “Good— it feels good, Jungkookie,” you weep.

The soft mushy pet name has him raining down two snacks against you in quick succession. “No baby names,” he warns, frown evident in his voice.

Even with you completely under him like this, shackled and blinded with your love, something unmistakably childish and obnoxious curls around your throat, has you biting down on a grin as the coil in your stomach tightens. “D-Don’t like that, Jungkookie,” you choke out hoarsely, wildly bold for someone in your position. “D-Don't like being m-my baby?”

The crop loses its position over your folds, and for a minute you’re left anxiously anticipating its next touch. 

It’s on the side of your breast, harder than the rest, combining with the already powerful pinch of the clamps. It makes you cry out painfully, stomach tightening at what is probably the most unexpected orgasm you’ve ever had. It isn’t like your usual ones that overpower you and make cum trickle out between your folds.

No, it comes in waves— literally. Your pussy spasms, pushes one splurt of cum out between your thighs, almost likes your lower lips are spitting it out. And then again, more the second time, against his mattress. He pushes your legs up to your chest to marvel at the cum coating your lips and thighs. “You’re my baby, stupid,” he hisses. He grabs at your clamps then, twisting the little chain in his hand harshly. You sob at the yank, at the way your nipples feel two seconds away from being ripped off. But you can’t even complain, because the sudden touch has your pussy clenching, before a final trickle of cum oozes out of you.

Even still, your mind babbles on. “N-No,” you choke, shaking back and forth. Despite the tie covering your eyes, they flicker like a mad man beneath it, like you’ll somehow get lucky and develop Seeing Through Fabric Ability if you try hard enough. “My, my baby,” you fight weakly, pelvis trembling from aftershocks of that orgasm. “My idiot b-boy,” you smile dazedly, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the sting you’ve become familiar with by now. “T-Tell me, Jungkookie,” you croon, biting down on your lip to keep a moan from spilling out mid-syllable. “Still the same, r-right?” you stutter, “still think you’re better than me, don’t you?”

He scoffs. “No,” he vehemently denies, brashly landing an unexpected smack against your hip, no warning in sight. “That’s not true,” he defends. You can hear his pout, the little push of his lips when he grows defensive. 

You laugh, every bit the insane lunatic, fueled by your two orgasms and slipping sense of reality. “Ffffuck,” you whimper, rolling your hips up into nothing. “S-Say it again, baby,” you plead, tongue licking across your lips. “Tell me, tell me you don’t care about my problems, Kook-ah,” you whimper.

There’s a hesitant pause on his end, an unexpected lull in your play as he’s torn apart between doing what you want or playing it safe.

You know you’re confusing him, because you’re certainly confusing yourself. You don’t even bother trying to dissect your emotions— you’ve long since accepted your mind was a dangerous place when horny and presented with Jungkook’s sole attention. Well, you knew you were into the whole degradation bit, but this whole having-your-boyfriend-throw-the-words-that-made-you-question-your-entire-worth bit was certainly new and unexpected.

But there’s something in your heart (and in your libido) that needs this, needs him to fix this memory for you that maybe, kinda sorta, has haunted you for days, weeks now, as much as you hate to admit it. Needed him to fix the booboo he gave you with a bandaid, only leave a scar you could look back at and laugh off, not a gaping wound that opened at the slightest mention of it. Because while you forgave, you certainly never forgot*.

(*Unless forgetting meant having your boyfriend overwrite said memory that couldn’t be forgotten with the sheer power of his monster demon cock and wicked tongue. Only then could you forget.)

“Don’t be a fucking pussy, Jungkook,” you spit, feeling the hesitancy in the riding crop that brushes against your skin. It fades away quickly. “S-Say I’ve a dead-end office job; just holding you back,” you beg, trying to pretend the entirety of his little outburst hasn’t been ingrained into your mind for the last couple of weeks. Something flashes in your chest, throat closing off when the toy finally leaves your skin. “Tell me, tell me—“

He looms over you, teddy bear warmth covering the entirety of your body. “Is this what you want?” he asks seriously, lowly, breath fanning across your lips. Your makeshift blindfold feels distinctly damp over your eyes, chest heaving with an exertion that can only be emotional when he speaks so softly to you after routinely raining down brutal thwacks on you for the past half hour. “__,” he says sternly, “is this what you want?”

You gasp on a sob, unsure when these emotions had time to manifest outside your heart like this. You nod your head like a bobble head doll sitting on someone’s dashboard, lower lip trembling on a shameful cry that is not sex-induced like all the other ones until now. “I-I need this, Jungkook,” you admit, voice so tiny and soft, it almost gets drowned out by your shaky exhales and the crowd roaring on screen. “Need to overwrite it.”

He presses a soft kiss to your quivering lips, slow and so devastatingly loving. It’s nothing like the one from before where he’d spit down your throat per your request, and the unbridled adoration he packs into one simple kiss makes you crumble in his arms, sniffles piling on by the dozens.

He leans back after a moment, pulls your thigh over his forearm and finally lets you feel the hard ridges of his cock against your folds. “Stupid girl,” he huffs, trying to sound angry and annoyed, but there’s a lilting tone to his words, a love and trust you wouldn’t have been able to see with or without your blindfold, but can feel nonetheless. He pulls it off you anyway, the warm glow of the TV illuminating his face for you for the first time in about half an hour. Eyes soft, sweat trailing down his body. His body lines up against yours, but so does his heart. You feel it in the way he holds you in his arms, the way he’s careful about sinking into your folds. He slips an arm beneath your waist, uses it to hold you up so you’re not uncomfortably squishing your arms anymore. But if you ask, he’ll pretend he’s doing this for convenience sake only.

“T-Terrible fucking job,” he starts out, the stammer eluding the obvious discomfort he has saying those words, but he does it for you anyway. “Big fucking baby,” he tries again, slowly pushing past your tight walls with a shudder. “C-Can’t look away from you for two seconds because you’re such a fucking kid.”

“Worse,” you choke out. “Meaner. Please, Kook.”

He nods, holds your waist carefully when he finally bottoms out inside of you. “Dead-end office job,” he says, repeating the words that had made you want to crawl into a whole and never come out from. “Got some stupid fucking problems,” he tacks on, slowly withdrawing his hips from your heat. “Always complaining about the stupidest shit,” he hisses, fingers digging into your waist when it’s only the tip of his cock inside of you. “I don’t fucking care about it,” he seethes, forcefully snapping his hips into you.

They’re scrambled fragments of what he’d really said to you that night. Line after line that don’t carry a quarter of hurt or even make coherent sense for that matter. And still. 

You whimper, mind fuzzy from the thrusting pace he picks up, body fluttering at the glide of his cock against your walls. But your heart is thundering in your throat, his willingness to help fix this memory for you tightening around your every being until you can’t breathe. “I-I love you,” you cry, clenching down around him.

Jungkook groans, pulls you flush against his cock until the thin hairs around the base of his cock are tickling your skin. “Stupid, fucking child,” he groans, “immature ass nobody,” he grunts, bucking into you like your words don’t mean a thing.

“I am, I am,” you wail, suddenly hit with the cold hard truth that your body was desperately on edge. From the stimulation your nipples had gotten all night, to the ghost of the riding crop that lingered across your skin; your body was tired, so ready for a final orgasm that you’re certain Jungkook will provide. “T-Tell me y-you—“

“Shut up,” he barks, sweaty skin gliding against yours. “D-Don't tell me what to do,” he huffs, nailing you into the bed. He’s pushing you hard into the mattress, like he wants to brand you into it. “Need to fix this— alone.”

You nod numbly, the crowd behind him cheering loudly. It’s like they’re rooting for him— for the two of you —as silly as it sounds, and as bothersome as it would be any other day, today the obnoxious sounds of the ESPN soccer match only serve to fix a bad memory from before. It’s loud and cringey as all hell, but you’ll look back to this moment and laugh.

And that’s what you want most of all. You want that memory from before, that nasty fight, to go away, to disappear forever and be replaced with this one. Of him, pounding you into the sheets as his TV blares beside you, just another day, another round of sex filled with your usual kinks. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Ffffuck,” you whine when the tip of his hard cock prods against your cervix. He’s going deep, he’s going all out, because he wants to fix this too. Wants to do anything to make it right, and he’ll never know how much you appreciate him for it. “S-So deep,” you whimper, hips jumping when he rams back inside.

“Stupid slut,” Jungkook snarls, tucking his head against your neck the same way he always does. “Making me do stupid shit like this,” he bites, but you know he doesn’t mean it, know he never will again. He rocks his hips into you, no longer concerned with holding you up from uncomfortably laying on your cuffed arms anymore as he pistons into your squelching heat. He’s pressed so close over you, lips brushing against your collarbone with each snap of his hips.

All the pushing and jostling about has the chain of your clamps wildly jumping about, sprawling across the planes of your chest, above your breasts, where he snatches it up between his lips again. “Stupid, fucking—“ he slurs, jutting his head to the side like a wild stallion. You sob at the tenderness of your nipples, at the way he pays them no mercy as he continues rutting into you like a mad dog in heat. “Slut,” he spits. “S-So fuckin’ pretty.”

Your mind is in another universe, and when that last word, that devastatingly familiar term, slips from his lips mindlessly, something inside you snaps. “N-No,” you sob, legs fidgeting around his waist at the orgasm that wracks through your body against your will. “No,” you cry in frustration, “didn’t, didn’t want—“

“Stupid, stupid angel,” he babbles, seemingly unaware of your orgasm as he continues fucking into your leaking cunt, ignorant of the cum that dribbles out, creams his cock as he carries on. “Fuck,” he pants, gnaws against the chain of the stupid clamps like he can’t bare this any longer. “Love you,” he says, though he’s still stuck in that mindset from before and his sweet confession sounds more like a threat. “L-Love that childish side of you,” he confesses, finally dropping the chain— much to your relief —and surging forward to kiss you on the mouth. He tastes weirdly metallic, a thought you can’t ponder too long as he continues ramming himself past your clenched lips and into your pussy. “Your fffucking dr-drive to succeed,” he grunts, mouth smushed uncomfortably against your cheek.

“Kook, sweetheart,” you shudder, sensitive pussy spent as he drills on. His cock is still so achingly hard, and he doesn’t seem anywhere near completion. “Take it easy,” you gently remind him, can’t brush your fingers through his hair like you usually would, so you settle for pressing your lips to his cheek.

“Fuck, fuck,” he heaves, pushing so deep you practically feel him in your womb, swollen mushroom head begging for entry. “Give me it all,” he stammers, “want you—want this forever.”

“I know you do, baby,” you coo, nuzzling your nose against his when he sloppily surges forward, panting and gasping over you like a crazed caveman. “I’m yours,” you gently remind him.

“No,” he chokes out hoarsely, eyes screwed shut. “Need more, all of it,” he mumbles. “Give me yourself, ___, need you for the rest of my life—“ he cuts himself off with a shuddered whine, so airy and wispy it makes you shiver. “Ffffuck, shit,” he howls, each thrust into your walls only unraveling him more and more. “Give me, give me—“

“Anything,” you whimper, body trembling from his excessivity. “What do you want, Kook-ah?”

He says nothing, losing himself in the warmth of your pussy as his orgasm rounds the corner. He’s in the final stretch, the final straight until achieving nirvana alongside you at the finish line. And, as you’ve long since come to understand, a true Jungkook Danger Zone. He loses all sense of self, random syllables and phrases slipping through his lips.

“Fuck, fuck, marry me— marry me,” he moans, snapping his hips into you with a ferocious speed that has you bouncing against the sheets, and that’s despite the tight grip his has on you. “Let me— fuck— let me fuck a baby into you, sweetheart,” he purrs, eyes shining like an absolute psycho, but you’re apparently into that because the idea squeezes around your chest and burrows it’s way in. “A baby,” he marvels like an idiot, eyes big and sparkly, “f-fuck.”

“Wh-What?” you choke, flinching when he bites down against your lower lip. He’s got you trapped beneath him, stuffing your brain with these ideas that make your heart enter cardiac arrest, body tingling like in Mario Kart when you’ve got the star power up. “Kook—“

“Sh,” he groans, digging his fingers into your sides as he rolls his hips against you. “Almost,” he informs you, but the blood rushes to your ears. “Oh, fuck,” he pants, jaw clenching, “oh, baby.”

Jungkook cums with a shivered cry, body hunching over you like some entity has just exited out of his spine. Maybe something did, because afterwards he manages to hold himself above you for exactly three seconds before dropping the entirety of his hefty muscles onto you. “Ouch,” you whine, wrists twisted uncomfortably beneath you.

“Sorry,” he huffs, completely out of breath and dazed as he rolls away from you. He ends up spread out like a starfish beside you, completely fucked out and definitely zooming through the fifth, sixth, and seventh dimensions.

He doesn’t say anything for a hot minute, chest rising and falling like he’s just run a marathon, until you butt in. “Kook. Undo me,” you remind him.

He looks over at you, dark hair falling over his eyes and sprawling around his head like a halo. Oh, he was going to be the death of you. “Oh,” he says, like his brain has just processed the information. “Right.” He sits up, tucking himself back into the shorts he never fully took off. That was his character flaw; never bothers to get completely naked during sex. Anyway, his straight male-equivalent of booty shorts come up around his thighs again, stretching sinfully across the thick muscles.

The five sonnet poem that was gearing up in your head comes to a halt when he touches your breast. “No, no more,” you cry, instinctively withering away.

Jungkook snorts. “I’m just taking them off, baby,” he says, reaching forward again with the same practiced ease you’d use on an animal. The clamps come off, all the nerves suddenly coming back to life. It’s a weird sensation, not having your tits subject to that prickling pain anymore, and it makes you moan softly. Jungkook soothes you with his wannabe masseuse hands, but you think it’s just an excuse for him to fondle your breasts.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks gently, hovering over you like a damned surgeon or something. His voice is so silky and smooth, hands soft against your chest. He’s so careful in the way he turns you over, somehow magically producing the tiny key pick you swore was lost between the sheets after its first use.

Being on your chest makes you tremble like a leaf, the faintest brush of the cotton against your tits enough to make your pussy clench weakly. “ I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he murmurs, carefully detailing his actions like you’re not watching him with your very own eyes. But it’s oddly comforting, having him walk you through the process of rolling your sore wrists. The inside of the cuffs had a plush lining, but it was a pretty cheap thing. After he’s done massaging the skin, he pads over to his dresser and returns with a shirt and undies for you. “Shirt,” he says, helping you into the clothing.

When you’re all snuggled under the sheets again, the television still loud as hell, he mumbles, “wanna talk about it?”

You exhale against his chest, feeling so light and fluttery from your orgasms and the way he runs his fingers through your scalp and the way his heart thunders by your ear. “Hm,” you hum pensively. “Nah. Think I’m fine now,” you admit.

Jungkook chuckles. “A full miracle recovery?” he teases. You nod, taking in the comforting scent of his fabric softener and just him in his entirety.

“Yep.” A beat of silence, the commentator is back to filling the space between you two. He talks about a mile minute, spewing stats and plays you could never understand in a thousand years. But you know Jungkook will get sucked in soon enough, so you strike while the pot is hot. “Do you wanna talk?”

He cranes his neck a little to look at you. “What do you mean?”

You roll your eyes, pushing yourself up to look at him straight on. “Oh, my mistake,” you drawl. “I seem to have missed the part where we were going to act like you didn’t just ask for my hand in marriage and then offered to get me pregnant—,” you pause, the realization suddenly hitting you like a trash can whipping down a hill on a rainy day at a thousand miles per hour. “Pregnant!” you exclaim, cheeks warm at the fact he really just said that to you.

Jungkook’s cheeks fare no better, a Flaming Hot Cheeto shade dusting his skin. “I, it was just…” he tries, poor tiny monkey brain working overtime to offer an excuse. “It-it doesn’t have to be a thing,” he blushes, big Bambi eyes flickering from you to the television to the heart-tipped riding crop by the foot of the bed. “I was just…”

You raise your brows. “Consumed by the spirit of King Henry IV to have fourteen kids?”

He blinks. “Wait, you actually paid attention to that film?”

“That’s not the point!” you exclaim, shifting onto your knees in front of him. “What,” you inhale sharply, heart beating wildly in your chest, “what was that?”

Jungkook can only play the shocked angel card for so long before he’s sinking back into his pillow stack with the sigh of a man who’s worked in construction for the last sixty-four years. “I just,” he mumbles, “I think about it sometimes.” His admission makes your heart lodge itself into your throat, wide eyes watching him spill out his heart to you.

He misreads the expression on your face. “I-Not now!” he hurries to explain. “Like,” he stammers, rosy hue slowly crawling down his neck, over his ears. “Maybe, y’know? In the future…”

You blink, brain reduced to a series of beeps and clicks like that of an old computer trying to compute information that is simply not processing. “Yeah…” you murmur, unsure of what to do with the film reel that suddenly flashes before your eyes, a look into a doorway you had never considered before. “I— me too.”

Jungkook chokes on his own saliva. “Really?” he yelps, has those sparkly anime girl eyes you always tease him about.

The gulp you do sounds loud in your ears. “Yeah,” you breathe, throat drier than the desert, but more confident than the first peabrain response. “I-I’d like that.”

There’s a bright beam of light that shines right in your face, so vibrant and dazzling it makes you flinch and by the time you’ve recovered you realize it’s his smile. “Yeah?” Jungkook mumbles back, pearly teeth framed by his pretty smile, brows raised at your stuttery confirmation. You nod. His lips twist into a smaller grin, a condensed version of the superstar one he gave you just moments before. Before you can brush it off with a joke, he’s snatching your hand up in his, a soft smooch pressed to your knuckles. “Okay,” he says quietly, dark eyes meeting yours. “One day?”

Your heart constricts in your chest, and all you can do is nod. “One da—“

“Goooooaaaaallllll!” the announcer on screen shrieks, the loud sounds of the TV killing your mood instantly.

Any dumbstruck, love struck, idiotic, ditzy expression on your face is wiped clean, replaced with an unimpressed glare you narrow on him. His nose is scrunched up like he wants to laugh, lips pressed into a thin line at your annoyance. He swipes the TV remote off the side table, arms spread open for you to crawl back into. You do so with a huff, pout smushed against the front of his hoodie.

“That’s enough ESPN for today,” he chuckles, switching the channel about a thousand times until Rick and Morty is playing on screen. “I’ll just watch the highlights later.”

“ESPN,” you scoff like an evil villain in a movie who’s just been presented with their mortal enemy, fisting the front of his hoodie.

Jungkook nods. “ESPN,” he repeats. A beat passes. “Kinda like BDS—“

“Go get your ice pack.”

epilogue

Because Jungkook couldn’t sit still for that one eventful night following his ladder injury, he ends up in a medical boot for one week, loudly clunking around the place like a reverse pirate. You snap a picture of him that you post on Twitter for your twelve followers to see, just him pouting at the doctor’s office with his new boot and club jersey on to celebrate last night’s victory.

It’s just a cute pic for you and your friends to laugh at.

Until it’s not, and his handsome face is circulating around the entire internet.

He’s being called the Face of FC Seoul, with desperate women messaging you left and right for his information. Other fans are bragging about the beauty that is an FC Seoul fanboy. It gets to the point where his face appears on the next night’s ESPN Nightly Recap, a special on social media stars posting about the game. Except Jungkook is neither a social media star nor did he even post about the game— you did.

But there he is, all five feet and ten inches of him smiling brightly at you from the ESPN Sports channel, wearing the boot he got from hand cuffing and whipping you to completion. 

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[mrs-monaghan]

Do you think Jimin and Jungkook took a break in their relationship?

And by break I mean break. Not break up. They have never broken up. JK would not accept that lying down 😂😂 Not that Jimin would be okay with it, but JK would never allow for that to happen. They take breaks and give eo space. But never an actual break up.

If I'm talking to Jikookers then we already know these 2 know everything about eo. Like it's very rare to see them not know something about eo. So when that happens, it can be eyebrow raising.

For example here i point out how JK didn't know Jimin, and 2seok went to an escape room together. That is weird. Jimin not only went to an escape room with Jhope and Jin, but he never told JK. Like I said, it's weird. So if I were to guess I'd say Jikook fought and Jimin temporarily went to live with Jhope. And I think it wasn't the first or last time they both did something like that.

And u know what guys? This is absolutely normal. It's what couples do. They fight and sometimes to the extent of moving out. But then they will miss eo and reunite. Especially if you are as interdependent as Jikook are. Then you cant stay for long without your person.

Some people say when Jimin left and went to Paris they were on a break. That JK looked like he was crying because he expected to spend this birthday without Jimin

Now while idk if they were on one of their breaks or not, I do agree that JK could have cried tears of joy when Jimin surprised him. JK has had Jimin for his birthday every year since they met and I imagine he was kinda down thinking 2019 would be the first birthday without him. I can imagine the happiness and relief he felt when he saw Jimin. 🥺

Another time I personally also agree things may not have been okay at home is during this BB of Jhope's MV

Jikook were... off. First of all they arrived separately. Which would mean nothing if it wasn't for how off they seemed. I can't explain it you'd have to watch for yourselves and see they weren't really acting like themselves. Even if they left together. There is an analysis out there but I wouldn't know where to find it now. But I know some Jikookers say Jikook were not alright around this time and when I watch the bomb I see the strange vibe.

So yes, anon. Like any normal healthy couple, I do think Jikook have taken breaks. But I have a feeling they don't really last that long..

Thanks for the ask! 💚

[m0e-ru]

Feeding ur brainworms..

Dancing outfits for the deities .. think..

nonnie youve officially broken me i am never going to color anything in the next 100000 years but at least the brainworms were having fun so thanks for that

anyway commentary

wanna guess who i drew first

none of these are actually colored as i want it to but just. take it for now i've laid the base colors already but by brain trying to function for character design is such a big effort for me hhbfashsgkajwsyert lol. ive had these brainworms for who knows how long now, actually the power of the tunglr inbox has enabled me. it is a terrifying power indeed.

G. Teddie..,.,., I honestly didnt know how to put a costume on a costume on a costume and i ended up completing his uniform .whoops. and the cig...aka no kiri...

im sorry if he looks too much of an idol already mikutan was in charge and sho provided the budget to make fun of him. (speaking of shochan i also have ideas for him but...im am..too tired kgjlSLUEROskjg shochan im sorry)

Mikutan is, well, Mik. sorry i didnt put so much colors on you sweetheart you've unfortunately been sitting in the back of my brain compared to the rest. but you are a wonderful emergency performer and you funky little ribbon dancing magician last minute act is very endearing to me

ah. Marie. marichan, i had no idea if i wanted to merge your burial clothes and punk clothes together so i just did both separately (pros: i get to draw two cons: i have to draw two). yes im lazy and just based it off of her concept art but i had fun with her burial attire hehe

believe me when i say i drew mimi last. they ended up the cleanest and it's just. so funny to me. ive had ideas for the funky little cryptid's dance costume from the start (OBVIOUSLY) but following marie's scheme i....had no idea where to start for their deity robes. i snagged more elements from yomi itself and i think it turned out fine

i have many thoughts of these guys respective of their post main plot shenanigans but you really wanted me to give all of these without context (jk ily i love talking about my aus and hcs w u)

[sparklingchim]

Honestly this new chapter feels like you’re preparing us for shit to go down 😭 and idk but I think Jungkook and his mom were talking about them having kids cause she mentioned his ex-wife and asked „is the same happening as with Eunji“ as in OC also not wanting to have kids.

I did not like Jungkooks reply to OC about why him and his ex-wife separated. We, as the readers, know it was the baby thing and she actually wanted the divorce so I think it’s super weird he’s just telling her „it just didn’t work out“ ..why is he being so secretive about the „real“ reason? It all seems sooo fishy but I don’t think he’s cheating on her but something is definitely not right and I can’t wait to find out 😩 oh and I’m still thinking about that damn glove compartment situation in chapter 2…maybe he really was hiding something like cigarettes…I remember chapter 1 where she felt like he smelt like cigarettes…well I’m super duper excited for chapter 3. we’re going to a gala…in Italy of all places 😍 OC is gonna look fabulous and I’m curious to know about their first time meeting 🥰 thank you for your hard work 💜

ur close to what happened between ylm jk & eunji but are not quiet there!! 🤭yeah.... the glove compartment situation 👀 u will get answers to that at some point !! thank u for reading and taking ur time to write this ask !!! i love u so so much <3