#was gonna fill the space a lot more
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fattylime · 2 years ago
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a study i did because i realized idk how to draw environments at all LMAO
a few people have asked, so this is a now a print <3
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skunkes · 1 year ago
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i like him ^_^
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moe-broey · 1 month ago
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ALSO NEITHER OFTHOSE GYYS ARE TWINKS‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ ALFONSE IS A FUCKING TWINK!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCK‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️
#sorry just yelling it louder for the rest of the class. about that poll.#okay this is my evil autism that makes me hostile to life itself showing but. i get SO MAD AT THAT SHIT LMFAOOOOO#YOU'RE MISCATEGORIZING THEM. listen we do NOT have a lot of body diversity here in feh but#you can't call lif a fucking TWINK are you Fucking Kidding Me. that man is the embodiment of twink death.#god. some fucking people will call anyone a fucking twink. as if it isn't a word with a specific meaning#of specific gay subculture. and AGAIN we Do Not have a lot of body diversity but you have to judge this Comparitively.#alfonse as the reference point. sharena's own words 'he's kinda slender actually'. he's smaller in frame#when you compare him to hrid. hrid is broader. presumably more muscular. visibly anyway.#he takes up more space. you get the sense that he's a bigger guy IF ONLY for the fact that Average Man Alfonse#is smaller than him. also alfonse's youthful appearance also part of twinkish qualities. okay.#you look at hrid and alfonse and tbh they're probably about the same age. but it's about the Appearances#and then you have lif. canonically several years ahead of alfonse. he has Aged. how much? normal amount. probably.#but case and point his body has filled out more OR hel fucked up the resurrection job. either or#but any which way all routes lead to twink death. lif is NOT a twink. you call lif a twink in my presence ever again#and i'm fucking . well. i'm not gonna do anything bc i am so nicies. but you're wrong.#okay. i was gonna settle in but i just. had to get that out of my system.
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ghoul--doodle · 3 months ago
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Me when I lie I guess-! I did quick doodles of 3 of my old characters
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rebouks · 11 months ago
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Hello Becca! I was wondering if you build every lot and space in your gameplays, from public to private. I was rereading some of Somnium and earlier posts from FIB and just noticed how much everybody moves around! I'm asking because the planning of my stories alone takes a lot of time, and I can't imagine spending more time building the 'sets' the story will take place. If you do, it's even more impressive!
hiii hello.. i do build most lots myself yeah! i usually have such a specific vision for the spaces these guys occupy that i just can't bring myself to use other ppl's stuff, no matter how lovely it is 😅 the only time i don't is if i find a lot i reaaally like or if i know i'm only gonna use it a couple times, if i make smth i wanna use it multiple times so yeah.. eg. the lots below circled in red are mine, n the one's in blue are other ppls i plonked down just to use once or twice or fill up the space..
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also behold my messy gallery lmaoo.. but yeah all made from scratch by yours truly cos i'm unhinged/love building!
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apricote · 1 year ago
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can't even imagine building your own save file i'm literally tired just searching for builds and putting them in my game
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fulgurbugs · 2 years ago
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for reference this is how extremely full of stuff my room is rn after moving back from college.
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zemnarihah · 2 years ago
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btw i didnt come back online bc im finished with my homework its actually going horribly in fact
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team-frightfur · 8 months ago
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(Theyre also blushing but i cant figure out why). Both Kenzan and Johan are more focused on Judai tho, which could either be bc theyre both gay for him or cause this takes place post s4 (so theyre happy to see Jou enjoying life again after his depression). Then you have Fubuki and Asuka in the corner. Fubuki is doing his standout uncoordinated cloudcuckoolander bit by not wearing blue/black/white/yellow like everyone else (get with the program, man!) Instead he's going for that... christmas ensemble? With the rare red....tho now I see it, there's also judais pants and the coke bottles and the red cups and oh my god it was a red/blue/green/yellow colour scheme all along. ANYWAY, while Asuka is more serious with her modest clothing and walking boots, she has this small smile. Like, clearly she's not super duper ecstatic over his dumbass ukelele serenades, but she'll humour him today of all days, not just because it's a special day but because she looooves having her brother back.
Final verdict: this pic honestly just gets better the more you look at it. It makes me wish i had synesthesia just so I could taste the cozy hot chocolate vibes. Like its truly utterly immaculate. Kudos to you for all time!!!
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#Incrredible absolutely incredible vibes here holy cow. Especially as an australian freezing in midwinter. Unmatched coziness#like it has that top tier cozy wood cottage setting (respect for graining the floor panels btw) so you can practically see the snow outside#I know they're drinking coke but in my heart that is hot chocolate ok it is beautiful hot chocolate and maybe there is pho somewhere#anyway I also really like how the orange/blue/green mesh together in this piece. It's not too uniform or restrained or blocky. Instead#the colours are diffused throughout the piece. This gives it a lot of balance while simultanously preserving the warmth and cohesion#like manjo asuka ryo and johan in their matching obelisk blues + the night sky outside + the blue books + the blue on Yugis poster tv etc#then ofc the green of the plants + yellow/green rug + Jims croco and fubus pants. The green works esp well to bridge the blue and orange#as opposed to a blade runner style scheme. Anyway I also love how you use blue/black shadows. Specifically how they go fuzzy at the ends#With a nice lil orange glow. I think the strongest example of this is Johan. his white shirt really shows off the blue/orange -> purple fuz#It makes the lighting feel really soft. Also mad respect for this whole setting concept like this room is impressively geometrical#and perfectly angled yet it has that lived in clutter vibe with the book under the tv + the abandoned singular sock + the unkempt comic#books + spread cards + etc. Theres also so much personality to it in the kitty rug smiling clock and posters all over.#Im gonna guess its judais place bc pharoah and the pic of Judai and Johan. Also its slightly irresponsible in a very Judai way.#this would NOT be jims place! he would NOT let his croco eat. uh. Movie film? its not croco food is all Im saying. Anyway. Adding into how#cozy and real this piece feels is the excellent lighting work. Not only is there multiple sources of light and shadow but they overlap#impeccably and have a subtle yet defined limit. I particularly love the two lamps by Asuka and Fubuki. The little shadow hatching on the#walls and window sills around them + the soft airbrush lighting makes this lovely subtle yet defined circle shape. Together with the#light coming thru the door its rly nice. Then theres the general shadow on Croco side of the piece with the deeper shadows from the house#ornaments and edo and such. Like its a small thing but it requires so much thought and dedication and fuckin math that I must salute#speaking of maths the most impressive part of this pic geometrically is the wall at edos side. The angle is sharp yet feels so natural.#yknow what I think that gets into the coziness too. The setting is so boxy and well defined that it almost seems to snug hug the characters#we get the sense of a limited space which is filled by the presence personality and warmth of this friend group. Nothing feels empty#this realisation makes me appreciate the cut off second floor that the stairs lead to cause it adds a roof which further boxes em in#the effect is like peeking into a moeblob yugioh diorama. But instead of being saucy or claustrophobic its just so cozy you could die#anyway last notes I love how the calendar on the wall has a little x we can infer is today!!! because the homeowner was So! Excited!!!#and I love the lonely fan on the bookcase and flower on the cactus (that is a well loved spiky boye). Anyway. Now onto the characters!#now onto the characters! (tho I feel like the environment deserves even more love I just dont have the words yknow) to start with#I love all the eye contact and how it economically explains so many relationships. Edo has this smug grin @ Ryo while Manjo looks both#annoyed and unimpressed (maybe because Ryo is late after work?). All of them have suits to show theyre all hard working pro duellists#Sho and Judai are also looking to Ryo but with a more casual vibe like “welcome home bro!” “welcome home bro of my bro!” Theyre also
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stealchain · 8 months ago
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what do u do when u have a large backyard but no fence and no trees ??
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rockfact · 9 months ago
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i wish i was a worm basking in the rain, and when the pour stops, some kind child picks me up off the sidewalk and places me gently into a nearby garden
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bunnis-monsters · 6 months ago
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Sacrificial Heifer
Bull Hybrids x Cow Hybrid!Reader
Commissioned by: @yuriohoe04
WC: 1k
A/N: Only 2 more slots for my commissions rn! Make sure to get them while you can. Once my comms are closed I won’t be opening them again until all my comms are finished ^^
Warnings: dubcon, breeding, lactation, pregnancy, gangbang
🥛 🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛
It had been a week since the farmer announced that you and your barn mates were ready to be bred for the first time.
At first, the lot of you were excited, some even ovulating and ready to breed. One of your friends had her tail lifted up, and it swayed softly as she sighed.
“Can’t you imagine it, being bred by a handsome bull? Do you think they’d want to settle and become mates?”
You rolled your eyes, swatting her thigh with your tail. “Not likely. Most bulls are just looking for a heifer to breed and toss aside for the next one. You’ll be lucky if they give you more than a few minutes of your time.”
An older cow had warned you many times that bulls liked to play with young heifers’ hearts, and that if you wanted to live a peaceful life on the farm, then you’d just breed and go about your day.
That’s what you told yourself out of fear of getting your heart broken… until the day finally came to breed.
All the other heifers were filling themselves up, brushing out their hair and tidying themselves up. The pheromones wafting through the barn were thick, almost stifling.
This all changed when the bulls walked in. They were big, bulky, and honestly? Terrifying.
They walked in with confidence, eyeing the new heifers with keen, sharp eyes that told you they were more than experienced when it came to breeding.
“Alright, who’s first?”
All the heifers shivered at the authoritative tone of voice. They had never been spoken to in such a way. The farmers they’ve had in the past had always been gentle, giving their bottoms hearty slaps as they herded them into the barn.
These bulls didn’t look like they even knew what the word gentle meant. They knew how to work with an inexperienced heifer, how to breed them into submission and stuff them full of cum.
You looked on with a mix of nervousness and curiosity. The bulls were definitely handsome, and despite their rough way of speaking, the way they tried their best to look a bit smaller told you that maybe they weren’t as bad as you had been told.
Before you could retreat to observe them from the back of the stall, you were shoved out into an open space, landing in the arms of one of the bulls.
“A volunteer. Cute one too.”
You yelped as your ass was groped, the bull squeezing it lightly before inspecting your face. “Little heifer, no need to be nervous. Gonna put a calf in you, alright?”
“Quite small, ain’t she?”
Another bull approached you from behind, lifting up your tail to get a better look at your fat ass. “Perfectly plump too. Got them child bearing hips… mmm…”
The feeling of a cock rubbing against your panties made your body freeze up. They both cooed at you, already able to sense your pheromones spiking. “Someone’s begging to be fucked silly, huh?”
One of the bulls traced circles over your clothed clit, laughing as you blubbered our half hearted pleas for them to let you go. “Hush, heifer. You’re soaking my hand, gotta breed that fat cunt of yours.”
Before long you were being hoisted up, a big fat cock pushing against your pussy. It was huge, and you were sure it would tear your body in two!
“Sure this little thing can take it?” another bull asked, this one playing with your clit as the other two bulls prepped your hole. “Smallest heifer in the herd I’ve seen so far…”
“She’ll take it.”
And with that, he rutted into you, stretching your fat pussy out as he bounced you on his cock. It was painful at first, tears prickling in the corners of your eyes, but your body was built for this. You were made to be bred by bulls, to get pregnant and produce milk and calves.
You felt your pussy gush as he fucked into you, biting into your shoulder. “That’s it, baby. Cream on my cock, lemme hear you cry out for me.”
You were passed around by the bulls, feeling so full and happy. As you were bent over and groped by another bull, you let out the prettiest of moans.
“God, that’s it, that’s a good heifer. Take my load, fuck…”
A bull took one of your nipples into his mouth, suckling as another mounted and bred you thoroughly. Before you were a virgin, and now you were being fucked by so many different cocks that you could barely think.
They rolled you onto your tummy, lifting your ass into the air and eating the cum out of your pussy, wanting to give you a nice and fresh creampie and hoping their’s would be the load to impregnate your fertile womb.
All the other heifer’s watched in awe and jealousy as the bulls kept their attention on you, unable to spare a second glance to the others. You were so cute, a small, chubby little heifer that was perfect for beating calves. How the hell were they supposed to breed anyone else when you were bouncing on their cocks?
By the end of the breeding session, your belly was distended, stuffed full of cum. None of the other heifers were bred because the bulls were way too busy doting on you after they all got a turn.
Now, as your belly began to swell with a calf and your tits got heavy and full, the bulls couldn’t help but cum all over and in you. Your pretty mouth and pussy was always keeping someone’s cock nice and warm.
Drinking milk from your fat and heavy tits was the best part of their day. They had to test your milk to make sure it was high quality�� and they also just wanted to suck on your nipples.
After all, you were their perfect little breeding cow. None of the other heifers compared to you, none as sweet and soft and pretty. If anyone had a problem, they could take it up with the bulls.
You sat on your bed, being fed strawberries as your belly was massaged.
Maybe that older cow was wrong, because these bulls adored you with their entire heart… and you were excited to be thoroughly bred again once you gave birth.
You were a cow hybrid after all, and needed to produce lots of milk and calves. Being a breeding cow was your job…
And you were damn good at it.
——————
NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @buckoothecow @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143
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sybbi · 1 year ago
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Is it just me or did Bethesda forget to make Starfield... fun?
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phagodyke · 1 year ago
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it's bullshit that the 3 nearest adhd support groups to me are all for parents struggling to deal with their adhd kids lmao
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ghostedeabha · 1 year ago
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imagine like simon goes into some sort of surgery and has to be put under anesthesia, and when he gets out hes like still high asf on it 💀 and hes being a lil silly goose
okay this is such a cute idea omg, this is 100% based off that tiktok audio where it's like "my wife wouldn't like you touching me like that" "i AM your wife."
thank you so much for the request nonnie, a forehead kiss for you MWAH MWAH
simon 'ghost' riley x reader
wc: 563
warnings: none really, lots and lots of that good ol fluff, mentions of surgery, goofy simon, maybe a little ooc simon (he's high so it's fine)
a/n: i hope this is okay, i'm feeling a bit rusty with my writing but i've finally got back some motivation and energy to do so after the past two months of low energy and bad mental health. if you guys want to know a bit more about it and my mental health (i don't see why anyone would but lmao) let me know, i don't mind making a post about it if you guys want an explanation of some sort or whatever. anywho, sorry this is so short but i hope you still like it!! <3
a/n 2.0: i recently applied for a part time job at a bookstore so y'all pray for me that i get this job because i want it so bad. i am just gonna decide that i WILL get this job, because why wouldn't i?
simon had been out of surgery for just over an hour now, being a soldier you 'd think perhaps he was going under surgery for some kind of wound he had inflicted upon him on the battlefield but no, he was just getting his tonsils removed after a bad bout of tonsillitis ended up with him developing really bad tonsil stones.
so here you were, waiting by his bedside for him to wake up. the doctor and nurses reminded you just as he had gotten out that he may still be a little, well loopy, off of the meds depending on how quickly he woke up. you waited in a chair at his bedside, reading a book when you heard the blankets of the bed rustling just a little.
looking up from your book you see simon starting to wake up and you reach out to grasp his hand, only for him to rip it away from you when his eyes were fully opened.
"uh, si? you okay, hon?" you ask gently, maybe he just wasn't feeling too well after waking up, or perhaps he wasn't wanting physical touch, that happened quite often and you always respected that space he may want when he wanted it.
"don't call me that." simon said, voice hoarse and scratchy from the surgery, he sounded a little angry.
"what?" you questioned, this wasn't like simon, you couldn't understand why he wouldn't want you speaking like this to him.
"i'm taken."
"i know." you replied with a short laugh.
"you should be touching me like that then."
it hit you then, he was woozy from the meds and didn't recognize you. the realization made you laugh a little more. you decided to have a bit of fun with this high version of your boyfriend.
"sorry about that simon. wanna tell me about your partner?"
"oh, (name)? they're amazing, you know they're so pretty. and they're funny too. they always know how to make me feel better, i miss them." simon replies, ranting and raving on and on to you about his partner, about you.
"you love them a lot, don't you?" you ask him with a smile, it felt so nice to hear all these lovely things about yourself, your boyfriend clearly unfiltered by the effects of the anesthesia he was under.
sure he definitely said sweet things to your face, but something about hearing it when he was basically high as shit made your heart pound a little more.
"i love them with my whole heart." simon replies, a goofy little smile on his face.
you can't help but reach out to gently caress his face at those words, body filling up with some much adoration for the soldier in front of you.
"hey! what did i say about touching me. i have a partner!" simon scolds, trying to dodge your touch.
"simon, love... i am your partner. it's me, (name)." you reply with a laugh.
simon takes a good long look at you when you tell him this, he stares at you, looks you up and down before letting out a soft and quiet "oh."
you begin to hear the beeping of his heart rate monitor speed up, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he stares up at you.
you couldn't help but laugh a little more at this. what a sweet idiot. your sweet idiot.
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muniimyg · 2 months ago
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♡ 04: how you're lookin' at me, yeah, i know what that means and i'm obsessed
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series m.list // taglist
note: a wild ride…. good luck y’all ,, THANKS FOR 1K 😻 my kitty is happy !!! hauwhahahahaa this part is lengthy so pls take a mfking SEAT. pls lmk what y’all think ,, send in asks 🫵 we’re headed towards the finale 💛 much wuv !!
warnings: tension/tampo vibes (whats that in english? lol) ,, male masturbation (jk gets himself off as he recalls oc slapping him) ,, jealousy (lots of it. like 90% of this part is filled with it) ,, oc has a hickey ,, angst ,, and a little mwaamwaaaa moment :')
//
life sucks. 
for jungkook, at least. 
it’s been almost a month since the incident, and you’ve done everything in your power to avoid him.
the memory of the fight—the words exchanged, the way he said your name—still lingers in the air between you like smoke, suffocating and inescapable.
at first, jungkook tried.
he texted you the next day and every day after that. his messages were hesitant and apologetic... and each one was left unanswered.
nerd [11:11PM]: ___, can we talk? sent nerd [11:28PM]: please? sent nerd [12:01AM]: i’m sorry. i mean it. sent nerd [12:03AM]: it wasn’t even like that. not with her.  sent nerd [1:09AM]: ik i’m gonna sound like a total douche no matter what so let me do it please sent nerd [1:15AM]: let me say sorry, let me fuck up, let me make it up to u sent nerd [2:01AM]: i really hate begging  sent nerd [2:01AM]: but i really hate u not wanting me even more seen
he did try to call though.
just once.
the ringtone barely lasted before he hung up, realizing how futile it was.
at one point, he showed up at your favorite coffee shop one afternoon. he sat alone by the window with an untouched drink, waiting. 
his eyes flicked to the door every time it opened, a glimmer of hope lighting his expression for a split second before fading when it wasn’t you.
after two hours, he left.
but now, almost four weeks later, jungkook has stopped trying (so hard).
it wasn’t a sudden decision, more of a gradual acceptance that whatever connection you’d shared—whatever you’d been to each other—was slipping through his fingers.
he told himself you needed time, that maybe this space was what you wanted, what you deserved. and so, he gave it to you.
he told himself it wasn’t the end. 
it couldn’t be.
he refuses for it to be. 
this is just… complicated. 
he gets that.
he's a smart guy after all!
but late at night, when the world was quiet and he was left alone with his thoughts, the weight of your absence pressed against his chest like an ache he couldn’t soothe. it... burns? it throbs in this aching rhythm that he can't quite figure the melody to.
jungkook thinks about the way you banter with him and how much it makes his day. how closely you sit next to him. how effortlessly you mesmerize him… 
how you flirted with him for a few days and now he's malfunctioning. how he spent the last month memorizing every detail of those days and can't get over it. he has convinced himself you're into him...  
like, remember how your fingers would brush his when you handed him something? that meant something, right? or how about the way you looked at him and tilted your head? shit, yeah.
that meant something.
fuck, the way you laugh and throw your head back and he gets a glance at your perfect neck—how he wants to leave kisses on it. how he… 
how he had you. 
for a moment, he really had you. 
under him, tangled, and messy. 
how he was so close to your lips. 
he should’ve kissed you. 
he should’ve locked the fucking door. 
he should’ve ran after you even more. 
but he didn’t…
and now? 
now you aren’t even around. 
he recalls what taehyung said to him night at the arcade. taehyung's words rub into his wound like salt. it stings. it makes him feel sick to his stomach and he just... get can't stomach it.
“she isn't gonna stick around forever... especially with all the shit you pull…”
there are no words to describe how incredibly helpless he feels.
if anything, he goes through circles in his mind; completely in disbelief he could fuck up this bad with you.
he hates that he can't think straight. he hates that he can't study properly. he hates that he stopped tutoring and even got in trouble with his profs for letting them down (they really counted on jungkook to help other students out).
he hates that he can't fucking breathe lately.
he can't sleep.
he can't eat.
jungkook hates the growing distance, but more than that, he hates how much it hurts.
he hates how much he wants to fix things even when he doesn’t know how. he just knows he wants to. god, fuck it—
fine. 
he hates how much he misses you.
but most of all, he hates that he was wrong. 
it was entirely his fault. 
jungkook hates it all.
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by chance, you and jungkook run into each other. 
the scene is perfect.
it's the perfect set up to cry over when you get home—that is.
the rain starts just as you’re leaving the library, soft at first but quickly turning heavier. you don’t expect to see him—not here, not now—but there he is, standing under the awning of the café across the street, shaking out his umbrella. the door chimes as you step outside, and he looks up.
for a moment, neither of you move, caught in the heavy stillness of the moment.
jungkook freezes when he sees you. 
his eyes widen briefly, then soften into something cautious, hesitant. he tucks his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, fingers flexing nervously against the fabric as he steps forward.
“hey,” he says, his voice careful, like he’s offering a truce.
the sound of him makes your heart clench, the warmth in his tone threatening to undo you. but you don’t let it show. you nod once, lips pressed into a thin line, and move to step around him.
“wait—” his hand shoots out, not to grab you, just to stop you. his fingers hover midair, unsure if he even has the right to reach for you anymore. “___, please?”
the rain is falling harder now, pooling on the sidewalk and soaking into the edges of your shoes. you glance at him, taking in the way his hair clings to his forehead, the way his hoodie looks just a little too big on him, like he hasn’t been sleeping well or eating much.
“can you not pretend like this is a coincidence?” you ask quietly, refusing to meet his gaze. 
he stays silent. 
it wasn’t. 
truth be told, he’s been waiting outside for almost 45 minutes. he didn’t even know if you were at the library today… he just had to wait and find out for himself. 
"do you have an umbrella?" he asks, breaking the silence. 
"what—"
"here." 
he cuts you off, pushing the umbrella toward you.
you blink, startled, as he places the handle firmly in your hand. your fingers wrap around it instinctively, the metal cool against your palm.
"jungkook—" you start, your voice faltering.
he shakes his head, stepping back into the rain without a word. the downpour hits him almost instantly, soaking through his hoodie as he shoves his hands into his pockets and starts walking away.
you stand there, the umbrella trembling in your grip, watching him go. the rain comes down harder, cascading off the awning above you, but you barely notice. your gaze stays locked on him—on the way his shoulders hunch against the storm, on the slow but steady steps that carry him farther and farther away.
something tightens in your chest. 
maybe it’s regret or maybe longing… but as his figure grows smaller and the storm swallows him—you feel it.
the warmth of his lingering presence and the chill of it all—
—of your favourite almost.
a few days later, jungkook finds his umbrella in his bedroom. 
he takes out his phone to send you a text, prepared to humiliate himself and to beg for a second of your attention. he’d trade all tonight’s focus for a moment of you.
just as he picks the umbrella up, he finds a note. 
___ told me to give it back to you. she says thanks (whore). ps: she said don’t text her. — taehyung
jungkook sighs. 
does he listen? 
obviously not. 
nerd [6:19PM]: don’t tell me what to do  nerd [6:20PM]: i hate this nerd [6:21PM]: u should’ve jus kept the umbrella. giving it back to taehyung and telling him to tell me not to text u is sick.  seen. nerd [6:22PM]: reply pls seen.  nerd [6:26PM]: fine. i’ll jus talk to myself  nerd [6:31PM]: i miss u sm i jerked off the other night thinking abt the way u slapped me  seen nerd [6:33PM]: come on, kitty  nerd [6:34PM]: promise to think abt me tn :(  nerd [6:35PM]: cos i’m gonna think abt u tn nerd [6:36PM]: ignore me if u want proof  typing…  nerd [6:37PM]: kitty? seen nerd [6:40PM]: fuck. nerd [6:41PM]: how do u get me so fucking hard thru text? maybe i jus miss u too much  nerd [6:42PM]: excited for my proof?  seen nerd [6:45PM]: ft?  seen nerd [6:46PM]: keep seenzoning me and i’ll cum typing... seen ___ has notifications silenced
but it's too late.
jungkook meant it.
he's sat on his gaming chair, cock heavy.
his phone is out with that group picture from the arcade (zoomed into you) as lewd thoughts of you fill his mind. jungkook runs his thumb across his tip, hissing at the way it feels over his slit. 
he flicks his wrists, gripping his dick with just enough pressure to grow the hardness. it’s already stiff and he can feel the need to cum—but he just can’t.
he can’t without thinking of you. 
so, his eyes flutter shut as his memories of you replay in his mind. 
from the way your lips winced when he ate you out—to the way that mini skirt looked on you that day. he thinks about the way you say his name; in any and every way. angry, teasingly, and desperately… he thinks about how pretty it sounds rolling off your tongue. 
how pretty you looked under him.
how good you smelt when he kissed your neck. 
how close you sat next to him—fingertips lingering... god, what he would do to be close to you again. 
jungkook thinks about the slap. 
how hard your palms hit his cheek and how angry you looked at him. despite the negativity surrounding the situation—he can’t help it. 
you looked so hot. 
it just… gets to him. 
before he knows it, his hand is covered in his sticky cum. 
he’s a loser—a nerd in your words. 
he always has been… and here he is; jerking himself off to the pretty girl he lost his chance with.
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the night is supposed to be nothing special. 
for jungkook, it’s just another event for his precious marine conservation club—a fundraiser, a schmooze-fest for potential investors, and a chance to hand out awards to appease the donors. sure, he’s getting an award, but it doesn’t feel like much.
the room buzzes with polite conversation and clinking glasses. jungkook adjusts his tie for the hundredth time, barely paying attention to the speeches and presentations. he stands off to the side with the other club members, blending into the background until his name is called.
“jeon jungkook, for outstanding contributions to marine conservation and innovation. mr. jeon has been working towards innovative chemical solutions for marine conservation, focusing on sustainable practices to protect endangered species like dolphins, and developing eco-friendly alternatives to reduce their environmental impact.”
the applause is polite but hearty.
jungkook steps onto the stage, the spotlight hitting him square in the face. as he accepts the plaque, his gaze instinctively sweeps over the audience—and then it stops.
you’re here.
sitting with the guys, casually chatting like you belong there, like you haven’t been avoiding him for a month and a half (at this point).
his heart trips over itself. 
he’s not even sure if it’s relief or panic or something else entirely, but it rattles him. he forces his attention back to the microphone, holding the plaque in his slightly sweaty hands.
“uh, thank you,” he begins, his voice steady enough, though his pulse is anything but. “our club’s mission has always been to protect and preserve marine life through education, community projects, and outreach. with this award…”
his eyes flick back to you. 
you’re laughing at something taehyung just said, your smile bright, your whole demeanor light and carefree.
“…we want to focus on…”
he falters, the words slipping from his mind as his gaze lingers on you.
“…we want to focus on… f-focus…”
a ripple of laughter spreads through the audience. someone whistles playfully. he blinks, startled back into the moment.
“…focus on sustainable practices and expanding our projects,” he finishes, clearing his throat as heat rises to his cheeks.
you’re laughing too, your head tilted slightly as you join the others. it should make him feel worse, but somehow, seeing you like that—smiling, present—grounds him.
he powers through the rest of the speech, keeping his gaze firmly away from where you’re sitting. when it’s over, he accepts the handshake from the host and makes his way offstage, barely registering the applause.
as soon as the ceremony ends, jungkook doesn’t even think. 
he weaves through the crowd, ignoring congratulatory pats on the back and comments from investors, his eyes scanning for you.
how did you know about tonight?
wait. 
shit.
he’s been texting you every day with random ass updates. of course you know. he’s yapped about it… but why? why did you come? don’t you hate his guts?
you're here so... maybe you don't hate him as much as he has convinced himself you do.
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jungkook finds you near the back with the friend group, holding a glass of champagne and listening to hoseok animatedly retell a story.
“congratulations,” you say lightly, lifting your glass in a mock toast. your words are casual, but there's an edge to them, a distance you've kept between the two of you for far too long.
his chest tightens at the awkwardness of your tone, but he nods, his hands slipping into his pockets. the space between you feels impossibly wide now, though only a few feet separate you.
“thanks,” he says, his voice quieter than he intended. “... thanks for coming.”
his gaze flickers to yours for a second before dropping to the floor, and he shifts, a little uncertain, taking a half-step closer.
hesitantly, you inch back. 
his presence is suddenly overwhelming, more than you’re ready for.
“yeah… of course,” you murmur, unsure how to navigate the new dynamic between you two. the tension is thick, but there's something else there too. an unspoken history. “what are friends for, you know?”
he hates that. 
friends. 
yeah fucking right.
jungkook tries to break the tension.
he takes a risk.
he takes a small step forward, hoping you don’t move. this is the closest he’s gotten to you in over a month—he needs this. it’s like euphoria in his veins—being with you again.
he needs this.
“how have you been?” he asks, the question coming out softer than he anticipated. jungkook scratches the back of his neck and continues. “a-are you coming to the afterparty?”
your lips part, a pause hanging between you.
you don’t want to admit how much you’ve missed this. how much you’ve missed him.
but the words slip out, more natural than you expect.
“yeah,” you say, giving him a brief but warm look. “i’ll be there.”
for a moment, your eyes lock, and something shifts. 
it’s like you’ve both forgotten all the walls, the space between you collapsing. he can feel his heart rate quicken, like his knees might give out, but he forces himself to stay grounded, to act nonchalant.
“cool,” he says, trying to brush off the sudden rush of emotions. “i’ll.. i’ll be there too.” he smiles, but it’s the kind of smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes—not yet, anyway.
“i sure hope so,” you laugh. “it’s your party, nerd.”
nerd. 
holy shit. 
never has he ever felt so relieved to hear you call him that. 
as he’s about to say more, taehyung appears out of nowhere, slapping his arm and giving him a congratulatory squeeze. 
“hey, man, nice speech. well deserved,” taehyung says, grinning like an idiot. “what did you want to focus on, again?”
you laugh while jungkook rolls his eyes. he shoves taehyung playfully. 
suddenly, you can’t help but feel the awkwardness settle back in, like something’s shifted again. you feel a pang in your chest as you turn toward the other people nearby, the ones you've been socializing with before jungkook showed up. the buzz of the conversation pulls you away, and you focus on the group, hoping to escape the overwhelming emotions that jungkook’s presence stirs.
jungkook watches you go, his eyes lingering as you slip away from the conversation. 
he can’t help it. 
you’re in his head again.
he looks over at taehyung, catching his eye. 
“hyung, is she coming to the dinner before the afterparty?” he asks, trying to sound casual. his voice betrays him, cracking with just the faintest hint of hope.
taehyung raises an eyebrow, taking a sip of his drink. 
“yeah. excited?”
“no.”
taehyung scoffs. “say that again but take away the lying.”
“fuck off.”
“___’s a good friend, man,” taehyung chuckles, redirecting the conversation. “you’re lucky. you just might be back in her good graces.”
jungkook’s heart skips a beat. 
“really?” he asks, trying not to sound too eager.
taehyung grins, leaning in a little. 
“yeah, but... she’s bringing her little boyfriend with her.”
you’re doing what?
jungkook feels the need to rub his eyes or something.
was taehyung shitting on him? boyfriend? when did this happen? no fucking way. 
jungkook refuses to believe it. 
… yet, the words hit jungkook like a punch to the gut. his breath catches, and his stomach tightens. 
"what?" his voice is barely a whisper, the weight of it settling in. 
"she didn't tell you?"
"we haven't been talking."
"rightfully so."
fuck. 
no. 
he doesn’t want to believe it, but the hurt is already seeping through.
taehyung shrugs, oblivious to the internal storm brewing in jungkook. 
“shit, well... yeah, she’s been seeing him for a while. dunno if they’re officially together, but… guess she’s really moving on. good for her, right? i mean, now you can really focus on just being her friend.”
the air stills. 
the reality of it all comes crashing down. jungkook’s heart sinks, his chest tightening in that all-too-familiar ache. 
that's why you’ve been busy... 
you’ve been moving on.
his fingers curl into fists, the anger bubbling up before he can suppress it. but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t let his emotions spill out in front of taehyung, even though every part of him is screaming. 
“yeah,” he forces a smile. “i guess.”
as the night goes on, jungkook can’t shake the feeling that he’s lost something he can’t get back. something that’s slipping further away with every step you take, every laugh you share with someone else. and no matter how much he wants to fight for it, he’s afraid it’s already too late.
jungkook doesn’t want to go to dinner anymore.
he has no appetite.
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jungkook is already at the dinner when you arrive. 
his mood is off, grumpy but with an undercurrent of sadness that he can’t quite shake. he’s forcing a smile when people congratulate him for the award, but it’s clear it’s not reaching his eyes. the night’s just been a blur of congratulations and polite smiles, but all he can think about who will walk in with you. 
does he know him?
is he gonna be some super cool prince charming?
does he know that jungkook was eating you out just a month ago? 
all valid questions…
however, you arrive a little late, and immediately his gaze searches for you in the crowd. when he sees you, his heart lurches. he spots you talking to someone, and the knot in his stomach tightens.
you make your way to the table, your eyes scanning it before you stop. for a moment, you aren’t sure where to sit. usually, you sit next to jungkook… but the spot is occupied by jimin. 
not by choice.
jungkook had saved the spot for you… you just came too late and he didn’t have it in him to tell jimin to move. but, jimin catches the milli-second exchanged look you have with jungkook and immediately shifts. 
“oh,” jimin begins. “shit, i forgot… didn’t know you were gonna show up so late—”
you chuckle, shaking your head. “it’s fine we’re gonna sit on the other side! by the way,” you pause and push the guy you came with forward. “this is do-hwan. he’s a biochem major and we have a few electives together… um, what else?” 
biochem?
serisouly?
do you have a thing for nerds or something? bro doesn't even look the part. he should be majoring in physics or something even more lame.
jungkook's thoughts cut short when he hears you giggling.
“hi,” do-hwan says with a grins at everyone. then, he turns and extends his hand to jungkook. “jungkook? shit, man. congrats on the award.”
he chuckles, giving jungkook a playful look. “organic chem, huh? i guess someone has to study the pretty side of chemistry.” 
what the fuck does that mean?
jungkook’s ears turn red. 
“yeah,” he grumbles under his breath. “nice to meet you too.”
with that, you and do-hwan make your way to the other side of the table. jungkook watches, his gaze hardening as you take a seat beside him.
he’s trying his best to stay calm and to not show it—not show how absolutely fucking mad this entire thing is.
this is ridiculous! 
his chest tightens painfully at the sight of you sitting with him. his fingers curl into his glass as he watches you laugh and chat with others, inserting do-hwan like you’re some proud girlfriend. 
you've probably known do-hwan like 10 seconds.
and jungkook can’t help it! every word you exchange with do-hwan makes him feel like he’s being crushed from the inside out. 
he’s trying to focus on the conversation happening around him, but his mind keeps wandering, drifting to you.
he watches as you lean in to talk to do-hwan, the way your eyes light up when you laugh at something he says. it’s the same laugh, the same warmth in your smile, but somehow it feels so much farther away from him now—like a memory that he’s trying to hold onto but can’t quite grasp.
he forces himself to look at the group again, but his gaze keeps slipping back to you. every word you exchange with do-hwan makes his chest tighten.
it's like he’s suffocating, and he can’t tear his eyes away. the way he moves so casually, his hand brushing against yours as he reaches for his drink. 
it’s too much.
it’s too familiar.
and then, as you turn your head to respond to someone else, he sees it.
just a flash of it—right there on your neck. 
a small hickey, barely visible, but it might as well be a brand. his heart stops for a beat. the sight burns in his chest, and before he can stop himself, his breath catches in his throat.
his stomach churns violently, a rush of heat flooding his veins. everything feels like it’s collapsing inward. the noise around him fades, and all he can hear is the pounding of his own heartbeat. the world shrinks, and the weight of the jealousy hits him like a truck.
he can’t stay here. 
not like this. 
not with this tightness in his chest, not with the ache in his stomach. the room feels like it’s closing in on him, and he knows—he knows he has to get out.
without a word, he stands abruptly, pushing his chair back. his heart races as he excuses himself from the table, slipping away into the hallway outside the main dining area.
the rest of the table doesn’t seem to notice his sudden departure, but your friends quickly start murmuring, and one of them nudges you. 
"you should probably go check on him," taehyung says, giving you an almost knowing look. “i told you not to bring him.”
you hesitate for a second, then stand, glancing at do-hwan.
“it’s not do-hwan's fault.”
taehyung rolls his eyes at you. 
“you’re playing it kinda mean tonight though,” he tells you. “jungkook’s been miserable. sure he deserves to be dragged through mud for whatever happened and for whatever he said, but this? on his night? i don’t know ___…”
you gulp.
maybe taehyung is right.
but you didn’t intend for it to be like this. you genuinely brought a friend you’ve been spending time with! and, sure… yeah. you’ve been kissing him for a few weeks now, but so what? jungkook has probably been fucking every student he’s been tutoring so why the fuck does this matter?
“___…” taehyung urges you. 
“yeah, yeah… i’m going.” 
you wave taehyung off as you get up from your seat. you excuse yourself and let do-hwan know you’ll be right back.
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you find jungkook outside. 
he stands with his back pressed against the cool metal of his car, arms crossed loosely over his chest. you notice that his posture is stiff... like he’s trying to keep himself grounded, but his shoulders still carry the weight of what he’s just seen.
his jaw clenches every so often, like he’s holding something back, but when his muscles tense, it’s almost as if the anger or hurt inside him is too much to contain.
as you walk towards him and he notices you. he runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends, clearly agitated. he lets out a slow, shaky breath, his eyes cast down toward the ground as if trying to collect his thoughts. he shakes his head slightly, as if to shake off the frustration that has settled in his chest, but it doesn’t seem to help. 
then, he looks up at the sky, his gaze distant, unfocused, lost in the swirl of thoughts that seem to chase him in circles. his arms drop to his sides for a moment, his fingers flexing and unflexing like he’s trying to release the tension that has built up in his body.
after a long pause, he lets out a frustrated sigh, raking his hand through his hair again, this time pushing it back as he exhales sharply.
his whole stance is restless.
it’s like he can’t quite settle his thoughts or his body, caught between what he feels and the reality of what’s happening. 
he’s trapped in his own head, unable to escape the weight of the situation.
by now, you’re next to him.
are you here to set him free?
“so… have the dolphins ever thanked you for your hard work?” you ask, trying to break both the silence and tension with your light tone. “you do so much for them… ungrateful little brats—you know they’re psychos right? they bully—”
he doesn’t turn around. 
“what’s on your neck?” he asks. “did your boyfriend do that?”
your chest hurts at his words. “he’s not... he’s not my boyfriend.” you swallow, trying to keep your voice steady. “he’s just a friend.”
there’s a long pause, and when he finally turns to face you, his eyes are a mixture of frustration and hurt. 
“the same kind of friend i am to you?”
he’s trying to sound nonchalant, but there’s a tremor in his voice.
you shake your head, not knowing how to explain, not knowing how to make him understand.
“you know what? i didn’t come here to make you feel like this…” your voice cracks slightly. “i didn’t... i don’t want to hurt you. i didn’t want to come.”
he scoffs bitterly.
“maybe you shouldn’t have.”
his words sting, but you can’t back down. 
“what do you want me to do?” you ask, frustrated. “if i didn’t show up, you’d be upset and blow up my phone. now that i’m here, you’re still upset—”
“and this is how you chose to show up?” jungkook raises his voice, turning to you. he steps forward, towering over you. he brings his hands to your hair, pushing it back and leaning in to look at your hickey properly. 
he squints. 
“are you proud of this?” he hisses. “fucking bug bite bullshit.”
“stop—” you snap, cutting him off now. “don’t—”
“okay. sorry, fuck..."
a beat.
"___, i miss you,” he breathes. “i just… shit. can you stay still for a second?”
there’s a long silence between you two, the air thick with things unsaid. jungkook looks like he’s about to say something, but his mouth closes, his frustration evident in the way he grits his teeth. 
instead, he just breathes you in. 
for the first time in a month and a half; jungkook can breathe.
then, he steps away and sighs. 
“think i’m gonna head home first. i… i need some space or something,” jungkook tells you. “let them know for me?”
“y-yeah. sure.”
“okay,” jungkook nods. “i’ll see you later.”
“see you.”
for the first time in a while, jungkook offers you a smile and you return it. 
short and sweet—he takes it. 
he leaves and thinks about it the entire drive home.
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when you arrive at the party, you’re still reeling from the brief exchange with jungkook. 
your thoughts are completely a tangled mess. 
from the words he didn’t say to the way his eyes held that edge of something unspoken—it all lingers in your mind like an unsolved puzzle. you thought you had it all figured out…
that you could be fine.
that you could move on—but now, after that moment, you’re not so sure anymore. 
your heart races in a way that you can’t explain. why does it feel like you’re standing on the edge of something—something big, something scary—and yet, you're not sure if you want to fall or pull back?
your mind keeps returning to the way he looked at you, like he was caught between wanting to say everything and nothing at all. it’s not a feeling you can shake off easily.
it’s heavier than you thought it would be.
at the party, you try your best to focus on the people around you. do-hwan is by your side, chatting casually with a few people, most of them strangers to you. some faces are familiar��people from jungkook’s marine conservation club, and others... just people. 
you make your rounds, greeting them politely, exchanging pleasantries, but your thoughts are still drifting back to him. to jungkook. the air is thick with anticipation, and no matter how much you try to focus on the conversations happening around you, your mind keeps wandering.
and then, there he is.
jungkook is standing by the drink table, his posture relaxed but not at ease. 
his gaze flicks to you for a moment, a brief flicker of something—maybe surprise, maybe something more—before he meets your eyes. there’s a tense, palpable moment of silence.
he’s holding a red cup in one hand, his fingers wrapped loosely around it. his other hand rests in his pocket, but his stance is still too rigid... too guarded.
it’s like he’s waiting for something to happen, for you to do something.
he doesn’t smile. 
he just nods at you. 
a small, deliberate movement that somehow feels too formal, too distant.
no words.
just acknowledgment.
you feel the knot tighten in your stomach, the nervous energy in your chest quickening. it’s the simplest thing, but it feels loaded with so much more.
you can’t look away. 
something inside you is aching to go over, to close the space between you, to ask if everything’s okay, to say something—but you're frozen. the tension in the air between you is thick enough to suffocate.
you swallow hard, trying to calm the unease building in your chest, but it's no use.
the silence stretches out, heavy and thick, as you stand there, caught between the desire to run or to take a step closer, not sure if you're brave enough for either.
you take a step back, trying to break eye contact, when suddenly, someone bumps into you from behind. you stumble forward, your feet catching on the edge of a rug, and you let out a startled breath as you lose your balance.
before you can fully fall, a strong hand grips your wrist, pulling you back against something solid. your breath catches as you feel the warmth of someone’s body close to you.
it’s jungkook.
without a word, his other hand slides around your waist, steadying you, his fingers briefly pressing against the fabric of your shirt. the contact is brief but grounding, like the world, slows for a moment, just the two of you, suspended in time.
he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t offer the usual reassuring words. 
his grip is firm, and steady, but he doesn’t linger. as quickly as it happens, he pulls away, his hand leaving your waist just as the tension between you starts to build.
you open your mouth to say something, maybe a thank you, but before the words leave your lips, he’s already moving away, stepping back with that familiar, unreadable expression.
you stand there. 
you’re frozen for a beat longer than necessary. your chest tight as you try to catch your breath… his sudden departure stings more than you care to admit. there’s no time for you to process what just happened, what that touch meant—or didn't mean—before he vanishes back into the crowd.
fuck.
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the night only gets louder as more people flood into the house. 
the music thrums through the walls, bass-heavy and relentless, blending with the clatter of cups and the hum of overlapping conversations.
you weave through the crowd, the heat of so many bodies pressed together almost suffocating. your heart races—not from the chaos around you but from the weight of the unspoken tension that’s followed you since you walked in.
you couldn’t bring yourself to drink, though do-hwan had handed you a cup earlier. 
it’s long forgotten somewhere, left behind on a table. you’re too afraid of what a single drink might loosen in you—afraid of saying or doing something you’re not ready for.
you don’t want to make worse what already feels so broken.
“hey.” do-hwan’s voice cuts through the noise, his hand resting lightly on your arm. he pulls you aside to a quieter corner of the room, away from the crush of people. “you okay?”
you nod, a small, uncertain smile tugging at your lips. “yeah. just... a little overwhelmed, i guess.”
he watches you closely, his expression softening as if he’s trying to read between the lines. “you sure? you’ve been kind of quiet tonight.”
“i’m fine, really.”
“you don’t have to be,” he says, and it’s the way he says it—gentle, almost understanding—that makes you crack a real smile. “pretty sure jungkook hates me. pretty sure he’s killed me 10 times in his head in the past hour or so… and he knows all the organic chem shit to make it a really clean murder, you know? “
you let out a weak laugh, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. 
he grins at the sight, his confidence blooming as he leans in closer, his shoulder brushing against yours. 
“there it is,” he says playfully. “i was starting to think you didn’t know how to smile anymore.”
you laugh softly despite yourself, and his grin widens. 
do-hwan then dips his head lower as he talks, his voice dropping slightly, as if the two of you are sharing a secret. it’s intimate in a way that makes your cheeks flush, his proximity unnerving. his eyes flick to yours, and he leans in just a little more.
across the room, jungkook sees everything. 
is it hot in here?
because fuck, he’s burning up.
actually, the entire house is on fire in his mind. 
he’s been watching you for most of the night, though he pretends not to be.
the way do-hwan hovers near you, the way you laugh at something he says—it feels like a punch to the chest. every small interaction between you two is a reminder of what he’s lost, of what he could’ve had if he’d been braver, better.
his grip on his cup tightens, his knuckles white against the red plastic. he can’t hear what you’re saying, but he doesn’t need to. the way do-hwan leans closer, the way his hand brushes your arm—it’s enough to make jealousy coil hot and bitter in jungkook’s stomach. it burns through him, unbearable, as he watches do-hwan dip his head lower, his lips so close to yours.
and then something inside him snaps.
fuck it. 
before he knows it, he’s moving through the crowd, his feet carrying him faster than his mind can keep up. his hand reaches out, fingers wrapping firmly around your wrist just as do-hwan’s face nears yours. you barely have time to process the sudden motion before you’re being yanked back, stumbling slightly into jungkook’s chest.
“what the hell?” do-hwan says, his tone sharp, but jungkook doesn’t even look at him. his focus is entirely on you, his jaw tight and eyes dark with something unreadable.
your breath catches, your heart hammering in your chest as you look up at him, startled. 
“jungkook—”
he doesn’t let you finish. 
his hand wraps firmly around your wrist, and before you can process what’s happening, he’s pulling you away. his grip is steady but not rough, a silent insistence that leaves no room for argument.
“jungkook, wait—” you try again, glancing back at do-hwan, whose confused expression barely registers in the rush of your heartbeat.
jungkook doesn’t look back, his jaw tight and his steps purposeful as he weaves through the crowd, his hand never leaving yours. the air around you feels heavy, the muffled music and chatter blurring into white noise as he leads you up the stairs.
your pulse thrums in your ears as he pushes open a door and pulls you inside, closing it behind you with a quiet but final click. the sudden silence of the room contrasts sharply with the chaos outside, and for a moment, you can only stare at him, your chest rising and falling as you catch your breath.
he finally lets go of your wrist, his hand lingering for a split second longer than necessary before he steps back. his gaze is dark, unreadable, but the tension radiating off him is palpable. the weight of the moment presses down on you, thick and suffocating, as you wait for him to speak.
a moment passes.
then, another.
and another.
and another.
and then—
“dump him.” 
you clearly your throat.
“can’t dump him. he’s not my boyfriend—“
“you and your fucking situationships.”
you gulp.
you hate the way he says it.
situationship… fuck him.
the room feels smaller than it is, the air thick with the weight of the moment. jungkook’s jaw ticks as he stares at you, the sharpness in his voice cutting through the silence.
“you’re… fucking with me, right?” he spits out, his tone teetering between disbelief and frustration. “you can’t be fucking real right now. you were just—”
“i was just what?” you snap, your glare matching his. “no fair, jungkook. i got to hear you fuck some girl, but you don’t want to watch me kiss—”
“did i ask you to?” he cuts in, his voice rising.
“no,” you huff, crossing your arms. “but what are you asking from me right now? huh? jungkook… i don’t understand you—”
“what do you think i’m asking?” his voice lowers, but the intensity behind it doesn’t waver. he steps closer, his presence almost suffocating. “you’re always trying to act like this doesn’t matter. like i don’t matter.”
“maybe it doesn’t,” you challenge, even though the words taste bitter on your tongue.
jungkook laughs, but it’s humorless, sharp. 
“yeah, sure. that’s why you still give a fuck about me fucking—”
you snap. “don’t tell me her name.”
“what?” jungkook grumbles. “is that it? you get to parade around, yelling his fucking name and announcing it to the entire fucking world but i don’t get to tell you about the girl that came onto me for months? do-hwan biochem this, do-hwan that—do-hwan kiss me! is that it?"
"jungkook—"
"fuck, ___... listen to me, okay? let me tell you what i've been rehearsing for the past month and a half.... the girl i declined over and over again and fucked a total of 3 times because i was thinking with my dick is done. okay? if you’re trying to tell me that i fucked up—fine. yeah. i fucked up. but i meant it when i said it’s not what it looked like. ___, it wasn't like that. she spread shit about me being a good tutor and twisted it. how the fuck do you think i feel about myself? how the fuck do you think i feel about you seeing it differently—seeing me differently?”
your throat tightens, and you look away, desperate for a moment to compose yourself. 
“jungkook—”
“tell me how to fix it,” he cries, his frustration spilling over. “tell me what you want, because i’ll do it. i’ll stop tutoring if that’s what you want. fuck, i already did to be honest with you.”
you glance up at him, startled.
“why? that’s not going to change anything.”
“but i have to try…” his voice cracks, and he runs a hand through his hair, his exasperation evident. “i’ll give up anything—whatever it takes. just tell me what you need, and i’ll do it. want me to stop wearing ugly ass shirts? fine. want me to stop saving the dolphins you hate so much—”
“i don’t hate dolphins—”
“you’re scared of them.”
your eyes soften. 
“how’d you know—”
“it’s obvious,” jungkook breathes. “the same way it’s obvious you’re scared of this.”
this...
what even is this?
the silence that follows is deafening. you don’t say anything, and the tension between you stretches taut, threatening to snap. his chest rises and falls heavily, his eyes searching yours, desperate for something you’re not sure you can give him.
he takes another step closer, his proximity making it impossible to think straight.
“say something,” he pleads, his voice barely above a whisper now.
but you can’t.
you don’t trust your voice, don’t trust yourself not to break under the weight of it all. so you stay quiet, the space between you charged with everything unsaid.
the weight of unsaid words and unresolved feelings pressing down on both of you. you take a step back, trying to create some space to breathe, but jungkook mirrors you, closing the distance effortlessly.
then, you look around his room for some kind of break… but it backfires as your eyes meet a plushie, laying on his bed.
hello kitty.
“what’s that?” you ask a little shyly.
jungkook turns his head, feeling a little embarrassed at what you’ve seen.
“what do you think it is?” jungkook asks gently. "___... i... i can't do it. i'm sorry, i can't..."
"can't what?"
"i can't want you," he confesses. "i can't want you when i need you that bad."
he points at the plushie and sighs. "fuck, do you know how stupid that fucking claw machine made me feel? i spent like 1 or 2—"
"hours?" your eyes widen.
he shakes his head. "hundred."
hundred.
you stay silent.
"i'm sorry, ___... for everything. i'm a shithead. i'm mean and inconsiderate. i'm a waste of time—i know... but i want you to know that... everything about my life feels so weird without you in it. the past month and half has been absolute hell. it's like... if you're not around, all i do is think about you and it fucks with me. i wonder what you're eating, who you're with, and what you're going to do next... i get excited when you seenzone me. i feel like i can finally breathe when you're near. i don't know what you did and what fucking pavlov doggy shit experiment you did on me—but fuck. woof woof. whatever you want, ___. seriously."
then, you do what you fear.
you give in.
“how am i supposed to trust you,” you start, your voice shaky but firm, “when you’re not even a good friend? you’re always so mean to me, jungkook. think about it… when have we ever been good friends?”
he scoffs, the corner of his mouth twisting into a bitter smile. 
“maybe it’s because i don’t want to be your friend.”
the words hit you like a slap, your breath catching in your throat. 
“what if i want you to be?” 
his eyes search yours, as if trying to figure out if you’re serious. 
“really?” he asks, his voice dropping lower, softer.
“really.”
his gaze flickers down to your lips, then back to your eyes, and his voice drops even lower, a dangerous edge creeping into it. 
you can feel it… you can feel it about to happen. 
“even when i’m about to do this?”
before you can process his words, his hand moves to your waist, fingers curling around you in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. he pulls you closer, the heat of his touch searing through the fabric of your clothes.
his lips find yours in a kiss that’s as sudden as it is inevitable. 
it’s not gentle—it’s firm, deliberate, and entirely consuming. his other hand comes up to cradle your jaw, tilting your head just enough to deepen the kiss. your hands instinctively reach for his shoulders, gripping him as if to steady yourself against the storm he’s unleashing.
when he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing hard. the air between you feels different now—heavier, laden with something you can’t quite name but can’t deny.
his hand slides up, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, and he looks at you softly, his dark eyes searching yours. the tender gesture sends a fresh wave of confusion—and longing—coursing through you.
“bad friend,” you scold him in a whisper.
his lips twitch, a soft laugh escaping him as his thumb grazes your cheek.
“don’t do that,” he says, his voice low, almost pleading. 
you raise a brow at him. "do what?"
"don’t friendzone me.”
“why not?” 
“i just kissed you.”
“so?”
“so?” he mimics, his tone teasing, but there’s a sharpness in his voice that makes you squirm. his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. 
“kitty,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a rough whisper, “i’m gonna be impossible to get rid of now."
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