Genevieve

Gen gen ❤// 00s kid // callsign: lilith // "Gen's Character Moodboard Gallery" // angst addict

[tetsur0-1]

How i be reading smut wth a straight face in bed

[3liza]

one thing everyone who is struggling with cooking for themselves needs to know is that the shittiest rice cooker, like the ones that cost $5 at rite aid, can make entire meals. you can put anything you want (except uncooked meats that need prolonged temperatures to be safe to eat) in with the rice and push the button and go lie down for 20 minutes. you will learn through making slightly over or undercooked rice a few times how you need to adjust the liquid:rice ratios. you can put rice, a bag of baby carrots, whatever salt and spices, and a can of tuna (or a can of shredded chicken, beef, etc, or tofu, or canned beans, or canned tomatoes) in a rice cooker and it will be completely edible in ~20min. it costs like $1 per batch, less if you get regular carrots and cut them into chunks yourself. you should have frozen spinach and peas and corn in your freezer, or whatever frozen veg is safe for your food allergies. this kind of meal can survive in the fridge for a while and the freezer even longer. if you make it badly it wont poison you and can be salvaged with hot sauce, if you make it disastrously it can be thrown away without losing more than a dollar or two. if you make it okay it fullfills the Just Need Some Real Food requirements completely. if you need more calories you can add butter or oil, or eat sour cream on the side. if you forget about the rice cooker or fall asleep it will dry out on the bottom but wont burn. they should teach you this in 5th grade

[k1tk4ttt]

How I feel reading smut while being scared of intimacy in real life

[joonam]

proximity - chapter 5 | jjk

Pairing: Chaebol!Jungkook x Reader (f)

Genre: chaebol!au, conglomerate!au, non-idol, slow burn, angst, obsession.

Summary: Jeon Jungkook has everything from wealth, brains, and the reputation of the perfect heir. But behind all of that, he hides one secret: you.

Warnings: death, grief, themes of stalking and obsession, angst, possessiveness, slow burn, violence.

Word count: 5191

a/n: not giving any hints here, just tell me what you think ^^ best believe i barely slept for this.

check out my: masterlist prologue | chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5

taglist: @mae-murdock @yooforeaa @magicalnachocreator @ennvfv @star-candyian @7karulla @nanmolla @misschelliejeon @mar-lo-pap @jggui @hotelcortezghost @jeonzll @adhderme @asyr97 @almatiarau @dna-black-and-blue @kooliv @cuntessaiii @khalhaimdad @jazzyb22 @llallaaa @senaqsstuff

The afternoon sun shining brightly accompanied with a clear blue sky somehow made life better.

Jungkook and Nayoung ran across his parents’ backyard barefoot, shrieking and laughing, while their parents were sitting on the balcony with wine in hand, looking at the two kids being kids.  

“You’re cheating!” Nayoung yelled at him, waving a twig like a sword. Jungkook laughed back at her, “You’re just slow!”

“I'm not!” “Yes you are!”

They stopped under the maple tree, both of them breathless, yet smiling so hard their faces hurt.

Jungkook’s shirt was damp while Nayoung’s knees were stained brown and green from grass and soil. He leaned on the trunk and she poked his side with the twig she was holding.

Jungkook yelped, pretending to be in pain, “Unfair! That’s a weapon.”

“This is a twig,” she replied, “you’re just dramatic.” “You stabbed me.” She grinned at him, “I knighted you.”

They have known each other since they were babies.

Jungkook’s mom kept a photo in a frame of him and Nayoung at three years old, in matching yellow raincoats. Under it, his mother’s neat handwriting spelled out: best friends. Their moms were best friends since forever, if her mom needed help on a weekday, his mom would text her to bring Nayoung and stay for dinner. The families often spent weekends moving between their houses.

“Race again,” Jungkook said. “No,” Nayoung replied, but she was already backing up to give herself a running start then ran forward and tagged his shoulder so fast his brain had to catch up with what was happening, “See? You’re not the only fast one!” Nayoung shouted at him as she ran away.

They ran in circles until they tripped over the same patch of grass and fell together. For a moment they just stared at each other. She rolled onto her back, “You’re too competitive.” “You’re just slow.” “That’s what competitive people say,” she shot back.

“You’re really good,” Nayoung said after a while, “you’re good at climbing and you catch things without looking.”

Other adults have said nice things to Jungkook too, teachers praising his handwriting and his neighbors and parents’ friends calling him smart and handsome. But those compliments never felt real. They were the kind of things people said because of who his family is, not because they actually saw him for who he is.

But lying there, sweaty and tired, hearing Nayoung say you’re really good, it felt different than the other compliments he's heard before. It felt genuine.

He turned his head, “At running?” “At everything,” she said, “at being you.” Jungkook scoffed, “That’s not a thing.” “It is!” Nayoung frowned, then added, “but you’re bad at tying shoelaces.” “That’s not true.” “It is, remember last week you tripped in dodgeball and tried to blame the sun.” “It was too bright.”

From the porch they could hear their moms’ voices, “We have lemonade! Don’t forget to wash your hands!” They stood up, groaning at their stained knees, and ran to the porch.

They sat on the porch, with cold lemonade in their hands. Their dads were talking about the new grill like they invented it. Nayoung’s dad was laughing at some dad-joke his dad said.

“Let’s get married when we grow up,” Nayoung said, as if she just remembered something and had to say it before she forgot it.

Jungkook almost choked on his cold lemonade, “What?”

“So you’re not lonely,” she said, as if that was even a problem Jungkook had, “so we can always sit together and share things.”

“What if I don’t want to?” he asked, teasing her. “Then you’ll be lonely forever,” she replied unbothered, popping a candy into her mouth, “I’m giving you a solution.”

“I’m eleven,” he pointed out.

“Exactly,” she said, as if this proved her point, “we have lootsss of time. Anyway, our parents are best friends. We’re basically cousins, except we’re not, so we can marry.”

“That’s not how it works.”

“It is!” she said, “when I was little, like little little, your mom let me nap on your bed, and your dad gave me a piggyback and didn’t even complain. That means we’re family, but we can still get married because it’s not weird.”

“That is absolutely weird.”

She rolled her eyes, “The important part is: we just promise each other and then when we’re big, we can get married, easy.”

He could argue any of those points, he argued with her and won so many times, about whether microwaves were magic or science, whether the moon followed cars at night or cars followed the moon. He could point out that they had no money, no house, no driver’s licenses, and no understanding of what marrying meant besides having someone who you live and have kids with. Instead, he stuck out his pinky finger towards his friend, “Sure,” he said.

Her face lit up like he just handed her the world, she hooked her pinky into his, “Promise.”

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The next weekend, Jungkook woke up to his mother’s hand shaking his shoulder. Her voice was soft, softer than usual, “Jungkook, wake up, sweetheart.”

He blinked awake, confused by the way his mom woke him up at this time of the morning. Her hair was tied back too neatly, her face pale, and behind her, in the doorway, his father stood in a dark suit. His eyes were red like he had been crying.

“What’s going on?” Jungkook mumbled.

His mother smoothed the blanket at his side, her fingers trembling, “You need to put on your dark suit,” she said gently, “the one you wore for Grandma.”

He frowned, “Why? Did something happen?”

His parents exchanged a look. His father’s jaw flexed, but no words came out. Finally, his mother spoke and replied to his question, “It’s Nayoung.”

Jungkook sat up straight, hope sparkling from his eyes, “What about her? Is she coming over?”

Her lips pressed together, her eyes filled with tears, “No, sweetheart. She didn’t wake up this morning.”

“Didn’t wake up? What do you mean?” Jungkook responded confusedly.

His father’s voice cracked as he forced it out, “She passed away in her sleep.”

“No,” Jungkook said quickly, shaking his head, “that’s not true. I just saw her at school on Friday. She was fine, we raced each other at recess, she was fine. She can’t be gone.”

His mother pulled him into her arms, holding him tightly and rocking him like he was little again, “I'm sorry, baby,” she whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

Over her shoulder, Jungkook saw his father still standing in the doorway. His broad shoulders hunched, his eyes wet and he sniffled hard, looking away with one hand over his mouth.

For them, it wasn’t just their son’s best friend who was gone. It was their best friends’ daughter. The little girl they fed at their table, the one who they’ve taken care of, the one who ran on their backyard on weekends.

Jungkook’s fists clenched in his mother’s shirt, “But I just saw her,” he whispered, “I just saw her.”

No one argued. No one told him it was a mistake. They just continued comforting him.

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The suit they put him in was too stiff, the collar was scratching his neck. His shoes were so formal and polished, they didn’t look like his. The air inside the hall was thick with incense and flowers.

Jungkook walked between his parents who held their grief in the neat, careful way adults did, by bowing, folding their hands, and murmuring words to people who approached them.

He followed them up the line, small enough to be hidden among the adults’ bodies until the framed photograph stared back at him.

Nayoung’s smile beamed out, bright and alive, her eyes shining the way they always had when she beat him in a race. For a second it was like she was still there. But when he glanced to the casket, the truth sat heavy in him. Her body lay still and dressed in her favorite dress. Jungkook couldn’t look for long, his eyes darted away to the floor, then the flowers, then anywhere else.

When his parents bowed, he bowed too, copying their motions, though his knees trembled. He stood beside them as guests came in, all dressed in black and their eyes swollen. He heard the cracks in their tones when they greeted Nayoung’s parents.

Her mother’s face was buried in tissues. Her father’s shoulders seemed so small, as if the weight of the world pressed only on him. Jungkook’s parents embraced them both, voices breaking despite their best efforts.

Jungkook stayed close, silent, watching grown-ups cry in a way he had never seen before. The sound of it scared him more than anything. He lowered his head and gripped his suit with both hands. He didn’t know what to do with the ache inside him. He didn’t know what to do with the sight of Nayoung lying still, when she was just running beside him at school.

So, he just stood there, next to his parents, as the room filled with prayers and grief.

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Jungkook who used to laugh until his stomach hurt became someone quieter and the child who ran barefoot across the backyard stopped going to the yard altogether.

He was always the first to shout “One more time!” when games ended, always the one to demand another round and another chance to win. But racing meant something different when his bestfriend wasn’t there to push him and cheat her way to winning. Without his bestfriend, there was no point in running.

Yet he practiced harder at everything.

If Jungkook couldn’t run wild in his backyard, he could run drills. If he couldn’t laugh until he collapsed, he could push himself until his muscles trembled. He stayed longer at his sport clubs than anyone else, repeating movements until they became second nature. Coaches praised him, calling him disciplined and relentless and they admired his focus.

But he didn’t tell them why, he didn’t tell anyone.

How could he explain it? How could he say that something in him changed, that the world had taught him too soon that even children could disappear into heaven, that best friends could be here one day and gone the next.

The truth stays locked inside, pressed into a space he would never let anyone touch.

He learned that love can vanish overnight. That promises, no matter how small or earnest, are fragile. And death can steal people so easily.

So he made his own rule.

If he cares about someone, he would never stand far away. He would keep them close, close enough to see and hear, and close enough that nothing could take them without his knowing.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Years later, Jungkook had grown tall, witty, and untouchable. The world viewed him as intimidating, disciplined, relentless, and genius.

The boy who lost his best friend had grown into a man who built his entire life around refusing to lose again.

If he stays close enough, they can’t disappear. If he keeps his eyes on them, he won’t wake up to absence.

So when, at sixteen, another voice pierced through his walls, a soft and genuine, “You’re really good at that,” hit like lightning. It wasn’t just a compliment. It was the second time in his life anyone had spoken to him with pure sincerity.

And he fixated on it, harder than he should have and harder than anyone would understand.

Because he had lost once. And he swore, silently and absolutely, to never lose again.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

The clock in Jungkook’s car read 9:30 PM.

He has been sitting there too long with the engine off, and hands loose on the wheel. From the outside, he looks like anyone killing time, probably waiting for someone else. Inside, every nerve is wired tight.

The shop’s lights have gone out fifteen minutes ago, but you were still inside, he saw your silhouette moving, bending behind the counter, locking the drawers. You were always the last to leave, always so careless with time.

You don’t think about how vulnerable you look, do you? He thought to himself.

He tilted his head as you tugged at the lock twice before slipping your keys away in your pocket. You never double-check properly. One day, someone else could notice that and Jungkook hated that thought.

You walked toward the nearest 7/11 and he stayed in his car, he didn’t need to follow you yet. He knows the way to your place by memory, he knows the places you hesitated to walk into, and the way you get scared when the lights flickered. He has watched enough nights to map it out better than you could.

When the store’s automatic doors closed behind you, he let out a slow breath, pressing his back against the leather seat. His jaw ached, he didn’t realize how hard he was clenching it.

Through the glass front, Jungkook watched you shop and you always picked the cheapest option, even when your face told him you wanted something else. Why won’t you let yourself have better? You deserve better, you might not know that, but Jungkook does.

When you left the store with your dinner in a thin plastic bag, his hand twitched against the gearshift, he should drive away.

But he didn’t. He never does.

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You were halfway down the block when you heard footsteps dragging behind you and the stench of alcohol reached you before the voice, “Hey, pretty girl.”

You pulled your bag tighter, eyes fixed ahead, and your footsteps quickening. You didn’t answer and you have never answered them because that only makes them think you’re inviting them for more.

But this one was persistent, he followed and shouted, “Don’t ignore me!”

You were still walking, even faster now, expecting him to leave already, until his hand wrapped around your wrist, and he moved to stand in front of you in one swift motion. His fingers dug into your skin and the smell of beer hanging off his breath, “Don’t walk away.”

Your heart was beating fast, but fear wasn’t the first thing that came, rage was. You yanked your arm from his hand, “Fuck off!”

He chuckled, leaning closer to you, his teeth were crooked, “Don’t be like that, pretty girl.”

Your rage ripped out of your throat, louder than you meant, “I SAID FUCK OFF!”

But the man only grinned, “Feisty, I like that.”

You knew this type of drunk men, the kind that always wanted to push further just to see how much they could take from you. And for one sickening second, you wondered if this time your voice would even be enough.

Then, before the drunk man could make another sound, you heard a voice behind you, low and deep enough to chill the air, “Get the fuck out of here before I ruin your life.”

The drunk man froze. You didn’t turn, you didn’t need to. The weight of that voice and the control inside it, told you exactly who it was, Jungkook.

The man stumbled back, muttering curses that dissolved into silence as he disappeared into the night.

You stood there breathing hard, you place your hand around the wrist that was burning red before slowly turning around.

And there he was.

Standing behind you, wearing a black coat, his eyes dark and fixed on you. Your heart raced, but anger cut through it, “What are you doing here?”

Jungkook didn’t answer, he just stood there, not saying anything but still looking at you.

“Were you following me?” you pressed.

Silence.

“Why are you here? How do you know I’m here? Are you following me?” Your voice cracked at the last question, but he didn’t flinch and his gaze didn’t waver.

“Say something,” you demanded.

That was when he chuckled and his hand slipped into his coat pocket, and when it came out he was holding a small box with a ribbon pulled tight around it. He held it out between you like he has been rehearsing the gesture all along.

“I came,” he said softly, almost amused, “to give you a gift.”

You blinked, confused, “A gift?”

His eyes didn’t move from yours, “For crossing a line at the gala, I owed you something.”

Your chest tightened, “You- you just happened to be here? At this hour?”

“I came to give you this.”

Your fingers curled around your bag strap, “How do you know I would be here?”

His gaze stayed on you, “I wanted to stop by your place.”

You frowned, heat crawling up your neck, “Past ten at night?Uninvited? And you’re here at the exact block I walk down every day?”

He stayed silent. You looked at the box in his hand, ribbon tied too perfectly.

Your throat went dry, “What’s in it?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just held it steady in his hand, eyes locked on yours, waiting for you to take it. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, “Yours.”

“No,” you finally replied, “I don’t want it.”

Something flickered across his face, it was unreadable but for a second you thought Jeon Jungkook was feeling hurt. “Take it,” he said. “I said no,” you responded, before continuing, “You can’t just show up, shove something in my hands, and think that fixes anything.”

Jungkook’s mouth curved, he almost smiled. He finally let the box and his arm drop to his side, but his gaze never left yours, “If you don’t take it,” he said softly, “I’ll buy the whole store and I’ll send every single thing in it to your door.”

Your mouth opened in surprise, you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. It didn’t sound like an empty threat. Jungkook took one small step closer, enough that the box hovered again between you, “So take it.”

You knew if you refuse, Jungkook would follow through and you could picture it; boxes piled outside your apartment.

Slowly and reluctantly, you lifted your hand and wrapped your fingers around the box. It was lighter than you expected, and the ribbon felt smooth against your skin.

“Good,” he murmured and you replied back, “Thanks.”

“I’ll walk you home,” he said. “I don’t need you to-” you started, but he was already standing beside you.

The night feels heavy, his steps stayed calm and steady against the pavement. The city noises, scooters, voices from the bar, and cars, all faded. All you noticed was his footsteps matching yours.

“You don’t have to walk me,” you finally said to break the silence. “I know.” And the way he said it made your skin crawl, “Then why?”

“Because someone should.” His tone was so even it almost sounded kind. But when you glanced at him, his expression was still unreadable. You turned your eyes back forward, “You think this makes up for anything?”

He didn’t look at you, “It’s not about making up for anything.” “Then what is it?” His hands were shoved in his coat pockets, steps steady as ever, and when he finally answered, his voice was low, “It’s about keeping you safe.”

“You can’t just decide that for me,” you snapped, forcing your voice not to shake.

This time he glanced at you.  Something flickered there, something sharp, before it smooths itself into the calm again, “I didn’t decide,” he said, “I just do it.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but no words came out. Jungkook had that effect on you, always stealing the thoughts and words in your brain. The rest of the walk was silent, but his presence at your side wasn’t. And for a fleeting, terrible moment, you felt safer.

When your building finally came into view, you exhaled in relief you didn’t want Jungkook to notice. You forced yourself to look up at him, “You can go now.”

He studied you for a long moment, then gave the smallest nod. Before he left, he pointed at the box in your hand and said, “Open it.” Before you could respond, he turned back toward the street, shoulders straight and he walked away.

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The lock clicked shut behind you. You stayed there for a moment, back pressed to the wooden door. The box is still in your hands. You walked over to the living room, put your bags on the small couch, and set the box on the table. The ribbon gleamed under the overhead light. It doesn’t look like it belongs in your apartment, with its chipped paint and secondhand furniture.

Your chest tightened. You didn’t want to touch it again, but you couldn’t stop staring at it either. The longer you looked, the more wrong it feels, like Jungkook was waiting, even without being here.

You reach for the ribbon, hesitated, and pulled your hand back. Then tried again. The satin slid easily under your fingers, you opened the box and the lid lifted without resistance and on it was a Van Cleef bracelet.

You froze.

Not because of the sparkle from the bracelet, not because of the luxurious box, but because you know this bracelet.

It was yours, or it had been.

The exact same model you once wore every single day to school, the bracelet they took back when your father’s scandal blew your life apart. You remembered the day too clearly, your step-mother’s shaking hands, and the explanation that “things like this” had to go back, that you couldn’t be seen with something that shouted money.

You didn’t even know they still sold the same model. You were sure it was discontinued. But here it is, the same bracelet, waiting in a box Jungkook handed you like it was nothing. You set it down on the table then started pacing the apartment, back and forth.

Back then it costed thousands of dollars, so much it made your stomach flip just thinking about it. And now? Years later? If it was discontinued, the price would be unimaginable.

How could he possibly know?

You wore it every day to school, yes. But you never spoke to him. Barely looked his way in school. He was on a different class, and his circle was always far from yours. And yet, he noticed? He remembered? He remembered that much?

Does Jeon Jungkook have perfect picture memory?

The thought made your skin prickle.

You stopped pacing, staring back at the box from across the room.

You didn’t deserve this.

Not the weight of it, not the price, and not the thought that went into finding exactly this one.

It was too much.

It has to go back.

You have to give it back to him.

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The next two weeks passed in silence.

For the past 2 weeks, you walked into class expecting to see him, expecting that steady presence and his gaze fixed on you, and how the air is always a little heavier when he was around. But Jungkook’s seat stayed empty and his desk cold and untouched, like he has never been there at all.

And every morning, tucked deep into your bag, you carried the Van Cleef bracelet he gave you. It wasn’t because you liked having it. It was because you couldn’t leave it behind, you didn’t trust your apartment enough to keep it safe, and didn’t trust yourself to forget where it was. You carried it everywhere the way you would carry a fragile piece of glass, terrified of losing it. But you were also terrified of someone noticing. Every day you hoped you would find him waiting, so you could shove the box into his hands and finally be free of it.

But Jungkook never shows up.

Your bag feels heavier with it inside. You hated carrying it, you hated the way it pulled at your thoughts even when you tried to focus on anything else. You caught yourself checking your bag too often, just to make sure it was still there.

You even tried waiting for him at the flower shop, thinking maybe he would appear the way he had before. You arranged bouquets, swept petals from the floor, pretended to check inventories while your eyes kept flicking toward the door. But every time the bell above it chimed, it was never him.

You have to give it back.

The thought stayed in your head endlessly. You didn’t want to hold something so expensive, you didn’t like knowing it was with you when it didn’t belong to you. Each night when you set your bag down, you felt your stomach twist.

It didn’t matter if Jungkook meant it as a gift, an apology, or whatever he thought it was. You weren’t someone who could keep something like this.

One evening, feeling restless, you pulled the box out and opened your laptop. You typed into the search bar slowly, Van Cleef Lucky Spring bracelet.

The results shown were all collectors’ sites and not the company’s website. Article after article confirmed what you already suspected. This exact model is no longer in production. Only collectors have them, selling it with words like rare and vintage.

You clicked one link, then another, and then you saw the prices.

Numbers that didn’t make sense for something so small. Fifteen thousand. Twenty. Twenty-five. One listing even higher, depending on condition. These prices, you couldn’t wrap your head around, it felt absurd for something so small. Even back then, you wouldn't have bought it if it was sold at this price.

You stared at the bracelet resting in its box. This one didn’t look secondhand or worn. This isn’t someone’s old keepsake. This isn’t from a dusty collection. This bracelet is new, still perfect.

You couldn’t breathe for a moment. Why would Jungkook give you this?

You pushed the box away and snapped the lid shut. The question wouldn’t leave you. How could Jungkook possibly remember this bracelet?

You wore everyday back then. You slipped it over your wrist each morning before school, you wore it through classes, recess, gym classes, and even when you were out with your friends.

And even though your lives ran parallel, you were never close enough to mingle around each other.

And yet, he remembered not just that you wore a bracelet, but this bracelet. The exact model and design.

Was his memory that sharp? Could he recall details from years ago with such precision? You didn’t know whether the thought unsettled you more than it impressed you.

Two weeks. Two whole weeks you had to carry this bracelet with you, waiting for him, searching for him. Two weeks of showing up to class only to see his seat empty, of scanning the shop door only for strangers to walk in. Two weeks of wondering why, how, what it meant.

And still, you have no answer.

You even messaged Jungkook. Once, then twice, then a third time, but each time he never replied, he hasn’t even read it to this day.

So you did what you thought you had to do. You opened your laptop and typed his name into the search bar. Not just his name, his address.

At first, you didn’t believe it would work. Jungkook isn’t just a normal student. He is a chaebol’s son, he’s the heir of The Jeon Empire, someone who probably lives in a neighborhood with gates taller than your apartment building. You doubted you would even get close. But when the search results loaded, your heart was racing.

The map showed his family’s home, and you froze because you knew the area. It was the same neighborhood you used to live in, before everything fell apart.

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The next morning, you stuffed the bracelet box into your bag, grabbed your bus card, and left your apartment.

The ride was longer than you remembered. The bus goes through familiar streets that feel foreign yet heavy with memories. When you finally got off at the stop, the gates loomed ahead.

A guard stepped forward immediately as you walked close toward the gates.

“Where are you going?”

You hesitated, clutching your bag strap, “I’m here to see Jeon Jungkook.”

The guard’s eyes narrowed. Before you could explain further, the security guard shouted at someone, “Taehwan! How have you been?” The guard’s eyes lit up, his entire demeanor shifted. He stepped aside to greet a man approaching from the sidewalk, his face breaking into a wide grin.

You stood awkwardly, caught between them talking to each other, until the man’s eyes landed on you, “You’re Jungkook’s friend, right?” he asked. Your head jerked up at him, “Huh? How did you know?” He smiled faintly, “I’m Taehwan, his assistant and guard. I’ve seen you in the library with him.”

“Oh,” your stomach twisted, of course the Jeon heir has someone following him, “Right.”

“What are you doing here?”

You swallowed, tightening your grip on your bag, “Jungkook hasn’t shown up to class for the past two weeks now, and I have something to give him.” Taehwan studied you, then nodded, “He just came back from an overseas project. What do you want to give him?”

“Just something he gave me,” you replied quickly, unwilling to explain further.

His eyes flickered, like he knew exactly what you meant but didn’t want to press further, “Oh, okay,” he gestured towards the road, “we could go to the house if you’d like.”

You hesitated, then nodded, “Yes, I can just wait outside, though.”

“If you wish.”

The two of you started walking. The distance from the security point to Jungkook’s house was longer than you expected, fifteen minutes at least. The streets curved, lined with trees and houses with wealth you no longer had. You remembered this area. You never realized until now that Jungkook lives here too. That all this time, you have been closer than you thought.

When his house finally came into view, you stopped without meaning to. Another fence surrounded it, taller, and stretching so far in both directions you couldn’t see the ends. You gasped softly at the sheer scale of it.

Taehwan pulled out his phone, “I texted him,” he said, “he should be out soon.”

You stood beside him, shifting on your feet, and the box in your bag suddenly feeling heavier than ever.

Not long after, the sound of an engine broke the silence. A car rolled down the street and towards the gate. It stopped, waiting for the heavy iron bars to swing open.

Before they did, the back door opened, and a woman stepped out.

She smiled widely the moment her eyes landed on you, as if she has been expecting you all along.

[heartydior]

the rom com collection from dolalette jewelry, handmade by kamilla ౨ৎ

[goth-queen]

[maisy1111]

me staring at the search bar trying to decide which fictional man I’ll read about tonight:

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Dolly V

~ part 5 of the Dolly series

pairing: yang jeongin x afab!reader

genre: smut, fluff, sci-fi

synopsis: always used to getting everything you want and spending as much money as you can; after a little night out with your girlfriends, in your drunken state you order an expensive sex doll. he likes to dress up, just like you do. what could go wrong?

wc: 8.5k

warnings: oral (m), masturbation, self-denial, self-ruined orgasm, cum eating, slight pain kink, sub!reader, reader is a little bratty, unprotected sex, creampies, a bit of degradation, choking, light bondage, spanking, edging, slapping

~ divider by @bunnysrph

With all the alcohol in your system, the loud music booming from the speakers and the warmth of the body dancing behind you, you celebrated, swaying your hips and grinding back into the nameless man who gripped your sides harder.

It was just another regular Saturday night for you; putting on an expensive dress and jewelry, doing your makeup, spending your evenings in fine restaurants with your girlfriends and your nights in prestigious clubs with all kinds of hot men you'd lead on and then leave.

You didn't have a care in the world. Anything you wanted, you got at the snap of your fingers, your father made sure of that, spoiling you rotten since you were his only daughter. You knew he had a soft spot for you and you weren't afraid to use that to your advantage.

"You wanna go somewhere more quiet?" the man whispered in your ear and you turned around, feigning disappointment and putting your sweet voice on.

"I'm sorry darlin', but I have to go now. It's been a pleasure dancing with you, though." you gave him a quick peck on the lips, just enough for him to taste your cherry lipgloss for a split second.

Before he could even answer, you slid away, disappearing from his eyesight between all the dancing bodies as you looked for your friends.

"Are you leaving, y/n?" you found Crystal by the bar. "The night is still young."

"I already texted Benjamin. He's on his way here." you giggled, swaying a little and she chuckled, grabbing your wrist, her manicured nails grazing your skin.

"Girlie, are you drunk?" she laughed.

"Just a little." you laughed with her, usually you weren't a lightweight, in fact you were the one carrying Crystal outside and holding her hair while she throws up. "I mixed up a few different drinks."

"Want me to wait out there with you?" she asked and you shook your head, making the room spin a little.

"Benji already arrived." you said but she still insisted on walking you to the car.

A sleek black limo waited for you, your family driver Benjamin rolled the window down before stepping out with a knowing smirk.

"You okay, miss?" he asked, opening the door for you.

"Perfect." you said, even though the fresh air made you even more dizzy than the stuffy club.

He shrugged as you plopped down in the seat, waving to Crystal who decided to stay a bit more with two of your other friends. Your stomach was churning a little as the vehicle started moving but Benjamin didn't bug you about it. He knew how you were, everyone did except your father who turned a blind eye to anything 'bad' you did. You are his perfect little angel who can do no wrong, so your driver bit his tongue more often than not.

You were home in no time, escorted right to the door. It was pretty late so the house was dark and quiet as you made your way upstairs, bumping into furniture and tripping over stairs, cursing quietly. Your room was huge, a queen sized bed with a canopy above it and a spacious walk in closet, your own bathroom and balcony where you'd often lay down and tan when it's sunny.

You kicked your heels off and walked to your big mirror, checking yourself out. You didn't look drunk though the room was still spinning just a little. You realized your phone turned off so you walked over to your desk and turned your laptop on, checking out who saw your insta stories from the fun night out. You left it open as you took it to your vanity, sitting down and taking off your diamond earrings.

The stories kept rolling and an ad came on between them right as you looked at the screen.

"What? Sex dolls?" you chuckled. Feeling intrigued, you clicked on it. It took you to a site with eight human looking dolls, all of them a 10 in your eyes. "I want them all." you whined, noticing some of them were already sold.

"Not fair." you pouted as you scrolled, stopping when you got to 'Jeongin, the fashion doll'.

"Oooh, fashion huh? I like you." you giggled, clicking on the purchase button without even looking at the price. After putting your info in, a message popped up. 'Thank you for purchasing our fashion doll! We hope you have fun dressing him up!', with a little winky face emoji added at the end.

You chuckled, closing your laptop and forgetting all about it as you got ready for bed and fell face down into your soft pillows, drifting off immediately.

Exactly a week later, when you got home after your beauty day which included a trip to the spa, a manicure and pedicure and of course some shopping, you almost jumped out of your skin, tripping over a huge box in your room.

"What the fuck is this?!" you gasped, and immediately your security guard, Jack, ran in, his hand already on the holster.

"What's wrong, miss?" he looked around before noticing the huge box and another suitcase next to it.

"It had your name on it. Benjamin and I brought it up together, I-I thought you had ordered something like- like always." he said cautiously.

Something rang in your mind.

"Oh. I did. You can leave now." you said, your face heating up. The man nodded shortly before retreating back outside.

You slammed and locked the door, letting out a breath of relief. You completely forgot about ordering a literal human sized doll. And now here he was, in the box. At least you hoped he was in the box, not in the suitcase because you did not want to spend your afternoon putting doll parts together, in your head it was too morbid and too much work.

You put your bags on the floor before cautiously walking over to the box. Taking a deep breath in, you opened it up and gasped. Your doll was even more handsome than what you vaguely remembered from that night.

Hello,

my name is Jeongin (or Innie) and I am your fashion dolly.

I love to dress up and take pictures, especially with you. I like seeing new places and doing new things so I hope you'll take me out on lots of dates.

Please treat me well always, even though I seem cool I can be sensitive so don't forget to hold my hand.

Hope you'll come to love me as much as I love you.

Obviously, someone put a lot of thought into this doll, you noted after reading the letter and looking more closely at his face. His eyes seemed warm and it looked like he was smiling just a little, a shy dimple on his cheek. He looked so cute. You checked out his outfit, satisfied with what they put him in and you noticed another little paper in his jeans pocket. You took it out and read it.

My princess!

I chose this outfit for our first adventure together.

Hope you enjoy me as much as I will enjoy you.

Princess. How fitting, you thought as you giggled.

You turned your attention to the suitcase, deciding to open it up before doing anything else. When you did, a gasp left your lips. It was filled with clothes and jewelry for the doll.

"I could make myself a dress out of this." you picked up one of the shirts, inspecting it. The clothes smelled like fresh fabric softener and they felt pretty expensive. You turned to look at the doll again. How much did you even pay for him?

You didn't care. All you cared about was taking the doll out of the box but that proved to be a bigger task than you first thought. You tried picking him up but since you weren't keen on working out, it was impossible to move him.

You groaned and grunted, your heels almost sliding on the polished wood as you pulled your Jeongin dolly by the wrists. That was the last trick you had up your sleeve.

"For fucks sake! I can't even move you properly. I don't know how much money I spent on you but you better wake up and move by yourself 'cause I'm not breaking my nails!" you stomped your foot in annoyance but the dolly stayed still.

"Do you have a button somewhere?" you started rummaging on his body, it felt like he was heating up the more you touched him. You retracted your hands and studied his face for a moment.

"Ugh." you unlocked and opened your door, finding Jack in the hallway. "Can you come help me?" you batted your eyelashes sweetly.

"Sure thing, miss." Jack nodded and followed you to your room. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Jeongin, but then he sighed, probably not even surprised by the things rich people spend money on.

"Is that alive?" he asked and you barked out a laugh.

"I don't think so. Look, I need you to move him to that chair." you pointed to your gaming chair. Since it had wheels, your thought process was that it'd be easier to roll around the doll than to carry it.

"Okay." the security guard nodded and lifted Jeongin up as if he weighed nothing. He placed him where you ordered. "Anything else, miss?"

"Get that box out of my room, I hate trash." you said, completely skipping that the manual for the doll was inside the box.

After Jack left, you locked the door again.

"Now, it's just you and me, dolly." you said, taking your heels off before you stalked towards Jeongin. Your palms rested on the chair as you leaned in closer, observing the doll. He smelled so good, so intoxicating. Your nose brushed against his cheek before you leaned back.

"Well let's see what I paid for." you nodded to yourself, stripping the doll out of his jacket with a bit of a struggle.

"Motherfucker." you cursed, throwing the jacket behind you. "If I could just find a button and turn you on, you'd do this by yourself." you frowned, gripping his shirt and struggling again.

Briefly, you thought about calling Jack back in but you quickly dismissed it, thinking how weird it would be to ask your security guard to strip your sex doll naked. Suddenly, you had another thought.

Isn't there supposed to be a manual?

The box. The stupid box. You quickly ran out of your room, looking for Jack and finding him downstairs.

"Where's the box?" you asked breathlessly.

"Box?"

"Yes, the one I told you to throw out."

"Ah, it's in the trash."

Your eyes narrowed. Jack gulped. His palms got clammy.

A minute later, Jack became a victim as he dug through the dumpster to find the manual.

"Found it yet?" you yelled at his body, half submerged in trash.

"Almost there." he gagged a little and you made a disgusted face as he finally pulled it out.

"Found it." the poor security guard looked defeated, probably repeating the amount of money he'll be paid by the beginning of next month.

"Great. You're a champ." you sprayed a little bit of disinfectant before pinching the manual between your fingers and looking through it. You skimmed quickly, frowning when you found nothing about a button that makes the doll come to life.

"Well, this sucks." you sighed, tossing the manual back into the dumpster as Jack rolled his hands into fists. 'Paycheck is coming soon. Paycheck is coming soon.', Jack chanted in his mind.

You were already back to Jeongin, deciding to just strip him completely and then think of what to do next. His shoes and socks came off quicker than the previous garments, his pants gave you another struggle but you managed to take them off somehow. Your face heated up when you noticed the bulge in his boxers.

Even though you kissed a lot of men, you never went further with them. You liked to tease and feel like you were the one who has the upperhand, when in reality you just needed someone who knew how to take care of your needs. None of the men you met gave you the impression they could handle you. Your ex boyfriend thought he could but he was way in over his head so you dumped him and moved on.

Taking a deep breath in, you finally took the last piece of clothing off.

"Oh." your Innie dolly is hung. "Well, that was definitely worth paying for." you snickered.

Your face started heating up the more you stared at it, biting on your lip and debating if you should just touch him.

"Miss y/n! Lunch is ready!" you heard the housekeeper yell.

"Coming!" you yelled back, grabbing a blanket and throwing it over Jeongin's naked body. You slipped your dress off before grabbing a more comfortable shirt and shorts, all under the watchful eye of the doll. You didn't mind that he was there because he is just a thing. And things can't come to life, can they?

You shrugged and went downstairs to eat lunch with your father.

"How was your outing, sweetheart?" he asked as the two of you ate, the sounds of utensils clattering and scraping against the plates was like a cacophony disturbing the peaceful classical music in the background.

You briefly glanced at the empty chair your mother used to occupy.

"It was fun. How was work?"

"As usual." his tone was flat. "You need to come in tomorrow, at least for four or five hours."

Right. You were an intern at your father's company, more so you were learning from him so you could take over the empire one day. It bored you to death to sit in an office full of people with sullen faces and serious suits, flipping papers and typing on the computer. You hated it but you had no other choice since you're an only child, everything naturally belongs to you.

You didn't say anything, just glanced towards the empty chair again.

-

When you got back to your room, you almost shrieked but quickly covered your mouth so you don't alarm Jack. You definitely didn't want him to come in and see this.

You turned the key in the door, checking twice if it was locked properly as your heart started beating fast. You turned to look at your dolly in disbelief. The blanket you had carefully covered him up with was on the floor, pooling by his feet. But what captured your attention was his cock, hard and red, standing proudly and taunting you. Your mouth opened and closed a few times.

Why did the dolly get aroused all by itself? You gulped as you observed him but his chest wasn't moving, in fact he looked kind of like a statue. A beautiful, perfect greek statue.

Your legs pressed together. The sight of his leaking cock made your insides stir. But at the same time, it felt weird. You tried to rationalize it in your head, he is a doll, he's not alive and he was made to be used and maybe it just got hard on its own sometimes. Hell, you didn't really know or care about the technology behind it.

All you knew is that something pulled you to him. So you slowly made your way towards Jeongin, hesitating just for another moment before you gently placed your hand on his thigh. Fingertips brushed his soft skin and you gasped at how warm he felt. You slowly slid your hand up towards his core, wrapping your fingers around his throbbing member and dipping your thumb into his slit experimentally.

An overwhelming thought of tasting him crossed your mind. So you slipped your thumb into your mouth, licking at the pre-cum that you had gathered on it. A muffled moan escaped your lips, he tasted so sweet that you couldn't believe it.

You slid down to your knees, nails digging into his thighs a little before you adjusted his legs so you can move comfortably between them. You didn't even do this for your ex, only once and it wasn't too fun. But you were so curious, and the doll was here, yours. And you had the upperhand.

Your tongue caught a drop of pre-cum as you stuck it to the underside of his tip before you started swirling all around it. Your eyes fluttered as you lightly sucked on the head, milking the pre-cum out of it and swallowing the sweet taste, something akin to vanilla. Your senses heightened as you sucked lazily, sliding down on him just a little more, your hand wrapped around his base and the other pushing your shorts down.

You had on your lacy underwear that barely concealed anything and it was already damp with your arousal. You slid the pads of your fingertips over your clit down to your wetness before coming back up to your sensitive nub. You didn't move your underwear in favor of teasing yourself. You loved it so much, the torture of it, the denial of it as you slowly circled your clit teasingly.

A whimper left your lips as your fingertips grazed against Jeongin's balls, your mouth sliding down further while you drooled around his cock. He twitched inside you so you cupped his balls, massaging them while you kept sucking on him faster, making yourself gag when his fat tip hit the back of your throat.

Your pussy was throbbing and clenching as you ran your fingers over your clit and folds haphazardly, only making yourself more wet and keeping yourself on the edge. You needed more, your hips grinding against your hand desperately as you moaned around Jeongin's cock. You wondered how long it will take for the doll to cum, noting that you read something about his balls being extra sensitive in the manual. But you were too embarrassed to read that in front of Jack even though he wasn't even looking at the manual, in his mind he was in Hawaii with his wife, and not rummaging through a dumpster of a stuck up rich girl.

This is not the time to think about your security guard, not when you're choking on Jeongin's cock. You focused on the dark on hand, squeezing his balls more as you sucked harder, your eyes fluttering shut as you pressed on your clit.

Suddenly, he twitched when you gripped him harder, your pussy clenching almost painfully as you were close to release. Your eyes opened up and you looked at him, his beauty, and you moaned around his length before you felt spurts of hot cum hit the back of your throat.

You choked a little, almost cumming yourself but you pressed your fingers on your folds, pushing the lacy fabric inside your wetness as you swallowed Jeongin's cum. You suckled until you were sure he was empty, sliding off of his now limp cock. You slumped against his thigh, puffing and panting as you enjoyed the feeling of ruining your own orgasm, your pussy swollen and wet, begging to be touched but you ignored it, instead you left kisses on Jeongin's soft thighs.

You got up when your breathing got even, grabbing the blanket and covering him up again, your hand tucking away a few strands of his hair and squeezing his hand.

"Sleep well, my pretty doll."

It was fun, having a human sized doll in your room. The last few days, whenever you weren't at your father's office or out, you'd play with Jeongin.

Dressing him up was a tedious task but still you wanted to try out all the pretty outfits they had sent together with the doll. One of the outfits added in a crop top, his toned muscles on display for you to touch. You smirked, getting an idea and running on your tippy toes to your walk-in closet.

Earlier, you had called in Jack to put Jeongin on your bed which the security guard did, without asking any questions but you could see him rolling his eyes. You didn't care though, you were home alone (except for the staff) and you wanted to have a good time before going out later.

You had put some music on, turning the volume all the way up as Madonna's Material Girl started playing, the speakers booming loudly in the big house, making Jack sigh in annoyance. Paying off debts, he thought. Just a bit more, he nodded to himself.

Inside your room, your mood went up as you sang along, you were a pretty good singer and usually the star of karaoke night so it was enjoyable to listen to you. You started moving along to the music as you rummaged through your clothes, the led lights installed in the shelves illuminated all the pretty colors and shiny glitter of your expensive collection. Your doll's eyes lit up but you were too busy looking at yourself in the mirror, trying to pick out the perfect dress for tonight.

One of them caught your eye the most; it was a brand new dress you haven't had the chance to take out yet, black with pretty glitter patterns and slits strategically placed to show skin on your cleavage and then also on your sides. You shrugged and stepped out of your pjs to put on the dress, deciding not to wear a bra under it.

"Damn." you spun around in the mirror with a smirk. "What do you think, Innie?" you asked your dolly as you made your way towards him. He looked as if he was blushing, his cute cheeks rosy.

"I think you like it." you giggled, covering your lips.

You kept dancing and swaying your hips, singing along as Jeongin's eyes followed you, it was almost unnoticeable as they moved ever so slowly.

You sat down in front of your mirror to put some make up on and in the reflection, you thought you saw Jeongin's head move a little. Quickly, you turned to look at him with a gasp but he was quiet and still. You felt a shiver run down your spine, an unnerving feeling appearing in your stomach.

"I'm crazy." you chuckled and turned back to your mirror so you could continue getting ready, glancing at your dolly every so often.

After you were done, you decided to take a fun little picture. Smirking, you grabbed your phone and made your way to your bed. You sat down next to Jeongin, making yourself comfortable as you put one leg over him, your dress riding up and exposing your thigh. You put his arm around you, making it look like he was holding you and then put your arm around his shoulders. You took a few selfies before choosing your favorite and then you posted it on insta with the caption 'bf'.

It didn't take long for the comments to start flooding in, he looked like a real person in the picture. You laughed in delight as you sat between your dollies legs and read all the reactions. Your closest friends knew you were just messing around as you have told them about purchasing the doll but other naive acquaintances really thought Jeongin was your boyfriend, a living human being.

You finally got up after some time and when you looked at your pretty dolly, you noticed a prominent bulge in his pants.

"You like my dress so much?" you giggled, shaking your head. You still had some time before your friends arrived to pick you up.

"Now, what do I do with you?" you sighed, wishing he was alive so he could take care of you properly, do all the things you fantasize about and touch yourself to. You wished he'd take control over you, treat you like you were the doll and not him.

You had no choice though so you decided to make the best of it and slowly slid his pants down. You didn't bother putting any underwear on him earlier so his cock sprung out, slapping against his abs deliciously. With a quiet giggle, you pushed your panties aside and hovered over him. He was already oozing pre-cum and you gathered it on your fingers, bringing them to your clit.

A moan left your lips as you smeared the liquid on your pussy, getting yourself wet and even more turned on. Your other hand roamed on his abs, down to his cock as you played with it. Wrapping your fingers around him, you scooted closer and ran his tip on your throbbing core.

"Mm. You're so big." you whimpered as you pushed his tip between your slick folds slowly, your tight pussy barely taking him in. You closed your eyes, fantasizing about Jeongin tying you up and pushing it in all in one go to make you take it, use you just for his pleasure and you whimpered, spreading your pussy with your hands and forcing yourself down on his length. You gasped, struggling and tearing up as you took all of him in, taking a moment to adjust.

You gripped at his shoulders and slowly started fucking on him. Your quiet whimpers filled up the space along with the slick sounds of your wet pussy as you clenched around him. Jeongin's cock twitched and throbbed inside you and you dug your nails into him, moving faster. The pain you felt melted into pleasure the more you took him in and the harder you slapped your hips on his.

You felt so close, your orgasm building up and right before you reached that high you slid off of him, stopping yourself and plopping down into his chest as you breathed hard. Clutching at his arms, you buried your face in Jeongin's neck and started kissing his soft skin.

"Come to life, please." you whined as you dragged your sensitive pussy over his hard length. His tip slipped in and you pushed down, taking him in again and moving on top of him. You angled your hips right on accident, a moan ripping out of you as his tip pressed right into your sweet spot. You whined loudly as you fucked on him desperately, chasing that feeling again and again.

On the brink of your high, you had stopped again, clenching around him.

"Fuck." you gasped as you phone started ringing.

You reached for it blindly as you held onto Jeongin.

"Hello?"

"Girl, we're here." it was Crystal and you groaned on accident.

"Having fun with your boyfriend?" she snickered, and you could hear your friends chuckling along in the background.

"Always." you smirked, still a little breathless. "I'll be down in a sec." you added and hung up before she could answer.

You weren't gonna be down in a second and they knew it. You didn't care though, you wanted Jeongin to cum. So you slid off of him and grabbed his cock with one hand and put the other on his sensitive balls. You jerked him off skilfully, twisting your hand at the top and massaging his balls, pulling on them just a little. When you felt him twitch you quickly buried his tip into your pussy, feeling him cum inside you and against your warmth as it slipped out, making a mess.

"Ugh, sorry." you whispered to no one in particular as you brought your fingers down and pushed his cum back inside, pulling your panties over your core. You licked the rest off your fingers before quickly cleaning Jeongin up and covering his lower region with your blanket.

"I'll be back, pretty dolly." you squeezed and kissed his hand with a smirk.

-

Though you were tipsy and there was a hot man grinding on you, you couldn't stop thinking about your dolly. God, were you horny.

You imagined that the guy behind you was Jeongin so you let him grope your ass. You didn't mind as he held you against him possessively, you just wished it was your dolly. Your beautiful dolly.

You leaned your head back on the man's shoulder as you closed your eyes and bit on your lip. He took that as an invitation, his lips brushing against your neck before he left kisses on your heated skin. In the darkness, no one saw or cared when he put his hand under your dress and touched your wet cunt. You never went so far with a random man but something about imagining it being your doll made you relax when he pushed his fingers inside you. You felt so dirty, letting a stranger finger you in a club, when you had no idea what his name was or even looked at his face long enough to remember what he looked like. But in your mind he was Jeongin and that was enough.

As always, before you could cum, a kind of clarity washed over you and you tore away from the man abruptly, startling him a little.

"You okay? Did I hurt you?" he seemed concerned and sweet.

"Fine. I just have to go. Sorry, love." you gave him a smile and a peck before running off.

You felt diabolical.

And it felt so good.

It became a routine. Dressing Jeongin up, stripping him down and playing with him. It's been one month since your dolly arrived, observing your daily movements as you went out often, coming back either tipsy or with a new manicure and shopping bags.

Saturdays were reserved for parties as always but lately they excited you less and less. Even the new clothes you bought felt somewhat disappointing. You couldn't pinpoint what exactly was making you feel so disgruntled, until you realized you were thinking about Jeongin all the time.

You wondered how his voice would sound, his laugh. How it would feel when he hugged you. How his lips would move against yours. How he'd make love to you. Were you falling in love with a doll?

You wished he was human. It angered you that he wasn't so one day, you picked him up, accidentally knocking his arm against your nightstand.

"Sorry." you muttered as your eyes teared up. He was too heavy. You dropped him on the floor on accident, a loud thud echoing off of the walls.

"Sorry, I'm sorry!" you panicked. Why are you apologizing, it's a thing - you thought to yourself.

You had no other choice but to grip his wrists and pull him towards your closet where you left him in a corner, like any other toy you got sick of playing with.

It's time to find a real man.

-

Darkness. Jeongin took a desperate breath as he clawed at his throat. No matter how many times he blinked, all he saw was darkness. In a state of panic he crawled on the floor, his hands touching the soft carpet underneath him, searching for any kind of switch, any source of light.

"Ow." Jeongin muttered when his head collided with something sturdy.

He touched around it and realized it was a shelf with clothes, the fabrics expensive and soft as he ran his fingertips on them. They all smelled like you.

Why have you left him? Why don't you want to play with him anymore? He thought you liked him. At least it seemed so ever since the day you got him. Finally his hand found a switch and when it turned on, he was almost blinded by all the shine and colors.

You left him in your closet. Jeongin stood up on wobbly legs and opened the door that lead to your room. He saw a water bottle on your vanity and quickly grabbed it, chugging all of it down. He knew where you kept a stash of snacks, next to your bed in a shelf, so he sat on the mattress and ate everything you had. His stomach still growled, he was starving.

When are you coming back?, Jeongin thought.

-

Two weeks had passed since you left Jeongin in your closet, and even though he wasn't even real, no other man excited you like he did. You wondered how that was possible since he was just a doll, an object.

Maybe you were crazy, who knows?

Shaking your thoughts off, you walked into your room, darkness enveloping all your favorite things. But before you could reach for the switch an arm wrapped around your middle, a hand pressed against your lips as you tried to scream.

You kicked your legs as your eyes widened in fear.

"It's me, Jeongin. Your dolly. It's okay, don't be afraid." you heard a sweet voice in your ear and you frowned, repeating his name but it was muffled behind his hand.

"Please don't scream or hit me." he said and you nodded as he let you go and flipped the switch on at the same time. You turned around and backed away, a gasp escaping your lips as he stood in front of you.

"W-what? Am I- Is this a hallucination?" you blinked.

"No, I'm here."

"How is that possible?" your lips trembled.

"I - I could hear you, see you and feel you the entire time. I answered in my head and willed myself to talk but I couldn't, not without breaking out of my state." he explained and you stared at him for a moment.

Tears of frustration built up in your eyes and you slapped your hand on his chest.

"Why did it take you so long? Why? Why?" you cried as you kept hitting him and Jeongin grabbed your wrists, pulling you closer.

You went quiet immediately as he looked at you.

"I'm here now."

"You're real." you smiled after a moment.

"I'm real." he whispered with a smile, his dimple making an appearance and making you melt against him.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked and you nodded slowly.

Jeongin leaned in and pressed his lips sweetly on yours.

He tasted so good. Jeongin. Your Jeongin. Your dolly was alive.

You threw your arms around him, holding him tightly and he returned the hug, gripping you and pushing you up against his warm body.

You stayed like that for a moment, Jeongin reveling in the fact that he can finally hold you, touch you, feel you like he wanted to. And you were estatic that your wish came true.

"You remember everything I said or did?" you gulped as you face burned.

"Yeah." he smirked and you whined, burying your face in his neck. "It's okay, princess. I'll take care of you." he whispered with a kiss to your head.

"You will?" you looked up at him and he nodded.

"But first, I really need to eat a proper meal. I - um ate all your snacks." he grimaced and you gasped, smacking his arm.

"My stash is gone! Ugh, fine, I'll ask Donna to cook something for us." you grabbed his wrist, dragging him towards the door.

"Wait! What about your dad?" Jeongin asked.

"He's on a business trip anyways. I don't have to explain anything to him." you shrugged and led him downstairs.

Jack's eyes widened when he saw the doll that came in a box alive and he was alarmed instantly but you were quick to dismiss him. Donna didn't ask any questions, just prepared a tasty meal for the two of you.

"So, do you remember anything from before you got here?" you asked.

Jeongin pursed his lips and furrowed his brows, staring into the bowl of rice before him.

"I can't... I can't remember." his frown deepened.

"Nothing?"

"Not a thing." he shook his head.

"You don't remember the other dolls?"

"No." Jeongin shook his head again.

You grabbed your phone and pulled up the site, showing him the rest of the collection.

"I have no recollection of them." he said in a frustrated tone, a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. "I've never seen them in my life."

"That's strange." you shrugged. "Are you sure you don't remember anything?"

"No and honestly," he paused. "I don't know if I want to remember. All I want is to be with you."

You smiled, putting your phone aside and cradling his cheek in your palm.

"Me too."

-

After the delicious dinner, you led Jeongin back up to your room. It was him who locked the door this time as you approached your vanity to take your jewelry off.

"I have one question, princess." Jeongin stood behind you, and your eyes shifted to look at his.

"Yeah?" you gulped at his intense gaze.

"Why did you leave me in the closet?" he asked.

Your necklace almost slipped out of your hands before you turned to look at him.

"I was sad that you weren't coming to life." you said.

"So, you abandoned me?" he said, his eyes darkened but a little smirk started playing on his lips.

"I didn't- I didn't mean to. I swear I would've-"

"Shh, princess. I get it. I know exactly what you need." Jeongin stepped closer to you, his body hovering over yours as you backed up into the vanity, making it clatter.

"Y-you do?" your eyes fluttered.

"Remember I heard and saw everything. The fantasies you described to your friends. What you did to me. To yourself." his smirk grew wider. "Do I have your permission, doll?"

Your knees almost buckled right then and there. Your dolly came to life and called you his doll.

How ironically sexy.

"Yes." you said quietly and he let out a breathless chuckle as he leaned in closer to you. His strong arm encircled your waist, his free hand sliding up on your body to your neck as he wrapped his fingers around you. Your breath got stuck in your throat as he held you in place like that.

Jeongin pushed his thigh between your legs roughly, pulling them apart and pressing against your heated core, making your dress ride up. You whimpered, eyes wide in surprise and he squeezed your neck a little.

"You always act like a desperate little slut. Don't be shy now." he said lowly and you gasped, your hips moving almost automatically as you started grinding against Jeongin's thigh. He flexed the muscle as he squeezed your neck harder, cutting off you air supply while looking you right in the eyes. You gripped at the vanity, your pussy gushing with arousal as Jeongin manhandled you.

He released your neck at just the right time and you gasped, taking a deep breath as he removed his leg.

"W-why?" you whimpered, looking at his thigh and he chuckled darkly.

"I thought you liked being edged and denied." he smirked.

"I- I do." you licked your lips. You were finally getting exactly what you always wanted.

"I think you deserve to be punished for leaving me in the closet." Jeongin stated, his large hands sliding your dress up just a little.

"Mhm, I think so too." you said, your heart beating fast and pussy clenching in excitement.

Swiftly, Jeongin turned you around and pushed your upper body on top of the vanity. You gasped, wiggling a little as he looked at your barely covered ass in the dress. The first slap came unexpectedly over the fabric, only the tips of his fingers making contact with your soft skin. You whimpered, shutting your eyes tightly.

"I think that's not enough." Jeongin shook his head before pushing your dress up, leaving you exposed in your little thongs.

"Tsk. Walking around dressed like a whore." he smirked, landing a strong smack on your ass.

"Ah!" you whimpered and jolted, your nails digging into the wood underneath you.

"Bad girl." Jeongin whispered before landing a series of smacks to your flesh.

"Fuck." you whimpered, wiggling your ass a little.

"You're enjoying this aren't you?" Jeongin asked, smacking your ass again and you moaned, opening your eyes and looking at his reflection in the mirror.

"Well, are you?" he gave you a few more hard smacks.

"I am! I am!" you whined as Jeongin massaged your already sore asscheeks.

"Then it's not really punishment, is it?" he smirked, his palm colliding with your heated skin again.

"Mm. Do it harder." you groaned.

"Harder? Are you sure?" he asked, pinching your flesh a little and making you moan as your arousal soaked your little panties.

"Yes, I'm sure, please punish me Innie." you whimpered and he started smacking you harder, without even stopping for a moment to give you time to breathe. You moaned and gasped, grabbing desperately at your vanity as your legs trembled, tears slowly rolling down your cheeks. Jeongin held you down, his hand splayed on your upper back.

"M-more." you cried.

Jeongin smirked and stopped, making you whine loudly.

"Shut up." he said before giving your pussy a hard slap.

"Ah!" your eyes widened as you almost came. "S-stop."

"Hm? What's wrong?" he leaned over you with a little smirk.

"I don't - don't wanna cum yet."

"Oh you won't, don't worry." he chuckled lowly before lifting you up. Your knees buckled a little, the throbbing pain on your abused backside made you so horny that you wanted to cry.

"Get on your knees, doll." Jeongin ordered, his fingers tangling in your hair and you obeyed without questions. He thought you looked so adorable with your innocent eyes and pouty lips, so ready to do what he says, to please him.

He took his pants off, grabbing his hard cock and stepping closer to you. A wave of excitement ran through your body, your mouth watering.

"Open up." he smirked at your already fucked out state.

You decided to be a little bad. So you pressed your lips together and shook your head 'no'.

"No?" Jeongin raised an eyebrow.

You shook your head again, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

"Are you being disobedient?" he asked and you giggled before shutting your mouth again.

Jeongin wasn't having it, his hand came up to grip your hair as he brought your face closer, slapping your cheek with his hard cock.

"Do as I say." he growled and you whimpered quietly but still disobeyed.

"You made me do this." he said, pinching your nose and you tried to take it but you had to open your mouth to breathe at some point. He took that chance to push his cock inside you, releasing your nose at the same time so you could breathe.

You choked a little but still took it, your hands curled behind your back as Jeongin gripped your hair and started fucking into you. You moaned and gagged around him as he snapped his hips into you mercilessly, pushing deeper in with every thrust.

"You love having your dirty mouth used like this, don't you princess?" he smirked at you as you cried and drooled around him.

"I asked you a question." he slapped your cheek lightly with his fingers and you moaned around him, gagging as he pushed in deeply.

"I know you do." Jeongin whispered and pulled out abruptly, making you gasp for air.

Before you could come to your senses, your vision still blurred from the tears, you shrieked as you realized you were being lifted up. Jeongin threw you on the bed, stripping you out of your dress.

You were in a daze, never this turned on in your life as he took off your panties and stuffed them into your mouth, making you whimper.

"It's your turn to be my doll." Jeongin snickered, grabbing his belt and tying your hands up to the headboard. You arched your body as you spread your legs, begging to be touched.

"You want me to use you for my pleasure?" Jeongin asked and you nodded frantically, your whimpers muffled by your panties as you tasted yourself.

"I'll use you like the toy you are." he said, pressing his cock against your folds and gathering the wetness before he pushed it into your tight pussy, making your eyes roll back as you cried. It hurt so good as he bottomed out, your pussy clenching around his length and sucking him in.

Your cries were muffled by the lacy fabric in your mouth as Jeongin started pounding his hips into yours.

"No cumming unless I say so." he hovered over you, his cock splitting you apart deliciously as his hands squeezed your breasts. You lost yourself in the pleasure of being fucked so fervently by him that you almost came. Your eyes shut tightly as you willed yourself to hold it in but it was so hard as Jeongin pressed right into your sweet spot every single thrust. Tears of frustration spilled out of your eyes as you clenched.

"Look at me while I fuck you." he said, slapping you lightly. Your eyes snapped open and you looked into his darkened ones.

"Good girl." he praised you, making your insides spin. "Now, take my cum." he added as he squeezed your hips and fucked into you with even more vigor.

You moaned pathetically around your gag, your hands squeezed into fists as you held your orgasm back. You felt like your insides would burst with how much you needed to cum.

You felt Jeongin's hot cum fill you up and your eyes rolled back, having no more control over it, you came with him as he moaned loudly, fucking his seed deep into you.

Your body trembled as you cried and he quickly pulled the makeshift gag out of your mouth.

"You okay?" he asked breathlessly.

"Water, please." you whimpered and Jeongin untied your hands before grabbing a bottle of water as you sat up.

"So, was that exactly how you wanted it?" he asked.

"Mhm. But you shouldn't have let me cum at the end." you smirked and he chuckled.

"I'll punish you for that next time." he smirked before leaning in to kiss you as you reached for his hand.

"I really am sorry I put you in the closet." you whispered against his lips and then kissed his dimples when he smiled at you.

"It's okay, I forgive you." Jeongin kissed your forehead.

"Just so you know. You're my boyfriend now." you giggled and Jeongin laughed, giving you another kiss.

You had to come up with a cover up for your father. You had bribed Jack to stay quiet as your first move and then you and Jeongin made up some story about him being your boyfriend who came to visit you from another city so that's why he had to stay with you. Your father eyed Jeongin suspiciously, asking him a few questions about his parents and what college he went to, and after some lies that you both practiced before, he gave Jeongin a pat on the shoulder.

"Treat her well, son." your father's eyes narrowed. It was not just a statement, it was a threat.

Jeongin gulped and nodded. "Of course, sir."

Your father nodded curtly before leaving to his office.

"Phew, that was close." you giggled, throwing your arms around his shoulders.

"I'm sweating bullets." Jeongin shivered and you laughed, throwing your head back. You were finally happy.

-

Your days were filled with Jeongin. Your shopping mall visits became visits to the cinema, your fancy restaurants became the places where you'd take him out on dates, your nights out in clubs were replaced with nights in, dancing in your room with your precious dolly.

You took him out to play golf with your father and Jack, to your country club, even to a little trip to one of your favorite resorts.

Your days were beautiful. Your nights, however, were something completely different.

A long white corridor. Distant muffled voices. A ringing in Jeongin's ear. Gloved hands grabbing at him and wheeling him off into a huge room with tall ceilings. The sound of whirring and the sight of the shiny androids working on top of him. He couldn't move or speak.

"Try the left side again." a painful prod at his side.

"He's unresponsive."

"Type this in." sounds of a keyboard clacking.

"It's like his vitals are lighting up but there's a bug somewhere."

"I know there's a bug! Let's get the other one. He seemed to respond to him better than us."

Jeongin couldn't see who the voices belonged to. Silence. The door clicked open. Then footsteps.

His angel appeared by his bedside.

"Hey, can you hear me?" he spoke in a deep, warm voice, a sunny smile gracing his freckled face.

"Look! It's happening now. He can hear him. Keep talking to him, number six."

"Just listen to my voice." the angel spoke again. "I'm here. I'll always be here." it echoed.

The room started spinning and turned into a cozy office. Gone was the angel and the androids. Jeongin was sitting in a nice leather chair, his body free of pain. He looked up, almost blinded by the sunlight coming from the window, when she appeared, her soft features comforting.

"Don't worry, Innie." the older woman said, coughing a little. "I won't let them hurt you." she said, but her voice was weak and her hands trembled.

"Mother?"

Jeongin sat up with a gasp, his body drenched in sweat, tears sliding down his cheeks.

"Innie?" you whispered, alarmed as you sat up too, your hand grabbing his. "Another nightmare?"

"I think these things happened to me." he said, breathing hard as he panicked.

"Oh?" you urged him on and he told you the entire dream.

"Wait. What did you say this 'angel' looked like?"

"Blonde. Freckles. Plump lips."

"Is this him?" you quickly picked your phone up, showing him the dolls he couldn't recognize before.

"That... yes, but he looks a little different there."

"Different how?" you asked.

"Like... More finished?"

You shivered. What the hell were they? And who made them? Most importantly, why?

"That's Felix. He's another doll like you."

"They called him number six. They called me number eight. But the woman at the end of the dream, she called me Innie." he gulped.

"I wish I could buy Felix so we could ask him what he remembers. But he is already sold out." you sighed. "Do you remember any of the other dolls? Did you dream about them?"

"No... I can't... I can't remember them." Jeongin shook his head. He was getting visibly upset.

"Hey, hey, Innie it's okay. Drink some water, yeah?" After he gulped down on the cool liquid, you pulled him into your arms.

"Let's sleep. We'll get to the bottom of this. Me and you." you pecked his lips as he searched your face.

But the next day, as you opened your eyes, your dolly was gone. You searched frantically for him, asking everyone in the house if they saw him leave but nobody did.

With tears blurring your vision, you found a note stuck next to your pillow.

'I'm sorry, I had to find out.'

Jeongin stood in front of the familiar building that loomed above him threateningly. How did he remember where to go? He had no idea. But he got there somehow, his eyes roaming all over the concrete walls and the bars on the windows. A shiver ran down his spine, an uncomfortable itch clawing inside his stomach. His eyes moved up and he stopped in his tracks.

There in one of the reflections in the glass he saw his angel, tears running down his freckled cheeks as he stared out the window.

He had to get in.

taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @moon-ttokki-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun @scarlet789 @skzdust @schniti-is-in-the-house @eastjonowhere @sona1800 @channiesrightasscheek @justwonder113 @yvettemint @inaribu00 @httpdwaekki @possum-playground @ria-april @yn-x-them @mariahxrrera @0omillo0 @halfwinterhalfuniverse @cooldeermagazine @delulkpopstan143 @todorokiskitten @compersian @azxulskz @stayp1eceposts @juskz @quokkacidal @chuuyaobsessed @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @lixies-favorite-cookie @thelostprincessofasgard @linocvp1d @stayjinnie @portgasdbru @lilgothhishhh @selinia86 @felixsbabe @staytinyluva @sadroses98 @katexstay @gnabnahcsworld @hazelbazil @iwannahugchangbin @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @skzfelixlove @skzjen @syedazarintasnim @geektacularmommom-blog @cookiesnmilfx @kayleefriedchicken @stxt-bby @strykdsstanot8 @hyunjinhwang2018 @binniesbabygirl @hyunjiniretti @linavc @julciaqwerty @salemluvsmusic @diipsy

[bipdf]

what's a tumblr influencer? what am i influencing? my mental illness? 😭

[werkwerkelizaaa]

[holylulusworld]

😂😂😂😂

[lemonmeringueprincess]

Wait what?? We have tumblr influencers now? Since when? What are they influencing? Their angsty emo ?? 😭

[va1-kyrie]

🕯 🕯 🕯

🕯 May you have the 🕯

🕯 absolute thirstiest 🕯

🕯 of thirst dreams of 🕯

🕯 whatever fictional 🕯

🕯 character you’re 🕯

🕯 hyper-fixating on at 🕯

🕯 the moment 🕯

🕯 🕯 🕯

[lemonmeringueprincess]

AMENNNNNN

[fangirleaconmigo]

Angst fics can help people come to terms with their own grief, begin healing, or give people that good cry that they need.

Smut fics can help people affirm and accept their sexuality. It can help them explore their sexuality in a safe way. They can also just be fun, and having fun is a drastically undervalued way to improve your mental health.

Dark fics can help people face their fears or process their trauma. It can make them feel safer and more secure. It can help them find their courage.

Fluff fics can give people rest and respite and comfort. It can give them hope that soft places exist and that maybe there is one out there for them. It can bring up their mood, which, if they have depression, can be a life saver.

And every fic people write makes someone feel less alone.

Point being, just because a particular thing doesn’t serve you, doesn’t mean it lacks value.

This is not to say that we have to consume all fic uncritically. Of course not. It is just to say that entire “genres” aren’t trash or lacking value just because they don’t serve you.

[ruinedchildhood]

[magicalmysteryperson]

goddammit you got me

you got me to reblog this

I can't say no to a cute face like that.

[nancydrewwouldnever]

When I wake up on the bitchy side of the bed, I will often post things I later regret. Oh, well.

[theotherblogfriendofyours-deact]

[lemonmeringueprincess]

Holy hell... man definitely like his girls young and fresh lol smh

[fullyautomatic]

Yes babygirl you’re a very handsome young man

[lemonmeringueprincess]

lol gender aside, if anyone call me baby girl.. i’d immediately turn in a puddle ..period.. 

[lemonmeringueprincess]

NEW VIDEO ON YOUTUBE

Hey friends! I just uploaded a video on youtube. It’s a POV style of video, I know the video quality is shit and crappy because I don’t have a video cam and shot it using my phone. My phone camera quality is outdated. It would mean so much to me if you guys check it out and also my other videos. Please do give me feedback so I can make a better content in the future. 

Here’s the link to my video: 

https://youtu.be/t5aScalS4kY 

and if you guys are nice, please subscribe to my channel! it really motivates me to create more contents! 

Thanks guys :)

[hereforthetrolling-deactivated2]

Guys, I know it’s difficult to face that someone you liked,admired or whatever is gross but he is. PR or real he lets these people in his homes and in his life. You are who you hang out with. My grandma used to beat that in my brain as a kid, so by letting these people around him he is like them. I don’t spend my time with people who are racist and fat phobic nor ant Semitic because I myself am non of those things. So the question remains why does he? And I’m not entertaining that it’s her friends not her because again if you don’t agree with those things then why are you very close or in her own words soulmates with someone who is. At some point you have to call a spade a spade and move on

[lolliesthoughts-deactivated2023]

This 100%. He’s not who we thought he was. Does it disappoint? Yes it does. Mainly though, it doesn’t change a damn thing in my life. Don’t let it change it in yours. Be disappointed but don’t wallow in it. Set a timeline and move on from the disappointment. You have power and control of where you invest your time & energy.

Look, you can be a fan or don’t. I’m not but that’s more that the isms of those involved are massive triggers for me so when it has an appearance that they aren’t a big deal for him, I’d rather support artists whose thought processes are more in alignment with mine. Just remember we are a means to an end for him. This is how he makes his money and make your decisions predicated on this reminder His life will move on no matter what you/I think. How about we not react/respond because it really isn’t worth your valuable energy.

[oh-my-damn]

All of this is so true and I feel like so many fans forget about this.

We can obsess about who he's dating, where he went, who was in what picture, who took what video.

At the end of the day though, none of that changes anything.

And you can choose to believe that he is innocent, that he is ignorant to what's going on. But he isn't.

He is a 41 year old man and yet so many fans keep treating him like a child. It's okay to excuse a toddlers behavior because they don't know any better.

But we really shouldn't be giving that same courtesy to a 41 year old man.

Guys. Guys.

He does know better. He understands. He knows. He's not innocent. He has actively decided to pay a giant "fuck you" tribute to everyone who knows about this.

And he didn't just do it once. He did it twice.

And now he's decided to underline it by agreeing to a con that would portray him as "their Captain America" (literal words from the annoucement, they actually said "our Captain America")

If that doesn't show how little he cares, I don't know what does.

He doesn't even care about his literal friends, people who are actually in his life that he knows. So imagine how little he cares about his fans. He does not give a shit how little we like his teenage-looking girlfriend.

He's going to stay Tophering, because that's what Topher does.

Topher will be Topher.

Please stop giving him the time of day, please stop giving him your attention, please stop liking his shit, please stop paying for his merch, his movies, his appearances.

I promise you. He does not deserve a single hard earned penny of yours.

[inklore]

premise: being in an arranged marriage was complicated enough, but catching feelings for your betrothed? now that was just ridiculous.

pairing: royal!namor x (f)reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: reader comes from royalty as well, therefore this is an au, arranged marriage, light angst as well as very light fluff, mutual pining, alcohol mention.

note: shoutout to @rae-gar-targaryen for sending in this little mistletoe request!! i may or may not write for these two again since i think their relationship would be hella angsty and interesting. but ya girl already has too many wips so lmaooo who knows.

You have lost track of how many minutes—possibly hours—have ticked by since you departed from the lavish holiday party your parents had thrown in honor of your new engagement. The clinks of glasses, orchestrated music, and laughter hitting nerve endings you didn’t think were possible to reach in such a manner that would cause you to bolt down the halls of your childhood mansion.

You had loved parties growing up. Had adored being the center of the ball room's attention. But sometimes you think you had no choice but to adore and love the two. After all, you were your parents' only child. Only heir. Their pride and joy to the point of suffocation.

If the circumstances were different would you be out enjoying yourself? Taking part in the festivities like everyone else? Eating your weight in macaroons and dancing.

Perhaps if you were given a choice in any of this you would be.

Wouldn’t find yourself with a death grip on your third glass of champagne and pacing in your fathers library.

If you had gotten a say in who you were to marry—or given the choice of at least picking someone less…cold, intimidating. Maybe then you’d be just as happy as everyone else at this god forsaking party.

Namor—or K’uk’ulkan, he had emphasized you call him, insisting on it by your tenth meeting. “We are to be married” he had said, giving you a gentle expression that showed neither disappointment or joy in the fact. But still made you feel woozy all the same.

He wasn’t a bad man. Reserved. Cruel to some. Cold to most.

Your first meeting had done little to dampen down your anxiety over the whole arrangement. He hadn’t shown disinterest, or anger. In fact you could barely read his expression at all. The only show of emotion was in the tick of his jaw, the slight crease in his forehead when you spoke about yourself—whether it was from surprise of the many facts you were forced to spew out, sounding almost robotic—or if he just didn’t care. You didn’t know.

But a week later when the two of you had met outside of your home and went on, what could be considered, your first date: he had acted differently.

“Now that your puppeteer strings have been severed,” his tone filled with amusement. “Tell me your actual hobbies. What you like to do, not what you’ve been taught to like.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that had spread across your mouth. You should have felt insulted or scolded him on the insinuation on your parents behalf. But you were not that far up their asses, and as much as it had seemed face-value to people who were only spectators, your parents had left you to your own devices years ago. Your life was your own.

Until this.

Until being their only child came in handy for a business deal.

And when you had shared your love for the opera, classic books, writing poetry, finding yourself lost in your own joy of talking about the things you actually loved: that’s when you saw real emotion on his face. When you say a glint of something in his eyes. A cough in his hand covering up the traces of a smile.

A smile that made him look even more regal and beautiful, if that were possible.

It didn’t take the two of you long to warm up. For you to see that smile un-hidden, to learn more of his homeland and people.

That should have eased your nerves and mind on this marriage arrangement. Should have made you happy to know that you weren’t really marrying the coldest-man-alive like you had thought that first day.

K’uk’ulkan was a man with many layers, layers that you would have years to pull back. You had no choice in the matter.

But even now, after growing to like his company, to think of him as a great man—your dress already bought, venue booked, flowers picked—your nerves refused to settle. Stomach refused to let you rest, to enjoy all of this as much as the rest of your family was.

You just…couldn’t.

Not even with the beautiful golden ring on your finger. Or a lavish party. Or reassuring words from your betrothed. Or the many more glasses of champagne you could see yourself downing in the very near future as you take the last gulp of the one in your hand.

Already turning on your heels to poke your head out of the library to see if a waiter was passing—hoping, praying, for this one miracle tonight.

But your movements halt when you start for the door and the door is blocked by your betrothed himself. The breath caught in the back of your throat almost making you choke, your heart finding itself in your stomach.

“K’uk’ulkan,” you attempt at a smile. Don’t know why you feel the inclination in you to run a hand along your black gown, making sure every crease is straight—every curve accentuated. His eyes following the motion of your hands, and then trailing back up your frame to your eyes; your nerves could not catch a break tonight could they?!

“I see we both had the same idea,” his hands are in his front pockets, the corner of his mouth pulling up slightly.

“You’re telling me outlandish parties are not your thing? I don’t think I would have ever guessed that.” You distract your anxious thoughts with a joke. A joke that lands and has him chuckling under his breath. A sound you’re growing to enjoy..too much.

“The celebrations we throw in Talokan are quite different. Less…flashy,” he waves a hand in front of his velvet emerald suit. A suit that fits him so well you don’t think any other man living—or dead—could wear it better.

The mention of his country makes you smile. The country that was soon to become your home. The country you had only visited a handful of times over these past eight months, but had quickly grown to love nonetheless.

“Oh gosh, yes.” You groan dramatically, “I’m counting down the hours until I can rid my feet of these death traps.” You point a manicured, stiletto adorned, foot out from beneath your dress for emphasis.

He chuckles again, “you look beautiful.” He says it so casually, so simply and with adoration that it almost knocks you on your backside. It hadn’t been the first time he had complimented you. Had said how nice you looked in something, had spent too long focusing on your face, looking in your eyes, or having things sent to your house with a note attached “Thought of you - K”—before this.

And yet your nerves still had you ready to run.

If you took a second—a single damn minute—to let yourself dive into those nerves. To stop looking at it at surface level. Coming up with excuses; you only see K’uk’ulkan and that half-smile he was currently giving you. The way it made you feel. The fondness that had grown between the two of you, that left room for more to grow—more feelings, more…other things one felt for their husband. Normal. Feelings.

What they lacked was ease. Feelings were not easy. Love was not easy. And while you had been so hung up on not marrying a stranger another fear had set in, knocked you off your feet and made you want to run from it.

Arrangements were easy.

Love wasn’t.

And that scared you more than the arrangement itself.

“I can have Namora send for-”

“No.” You blurt out. Harsh, fast, and surprising him. The expression on his face grew into something stone-like and worrisome. Making an embarrassed flush burn in your cheeks. You try to recover with a pressed smile, “sorry. Just need some air. This is all just…a lot.” Your eyes downcast to the floor.

You needed that drink. Needed to escape once again. Maybe this time outside in the gardens where no one could find you.

Where the party goers couldn’t be heard.

Where your soon to be husband couldn’t make your blood heat from his beautiful stare.

“I’m going to get another drink,” you state as you try to push past him in the doorway—try to ignore the heat you feel from his body as your body brushes against his.

But then he’s stopping you again.

His fingers curling around your bicep, your side now pressed to his chest. The fabric of his suit making your body feel close to sweating. The heat from everything bound to crack, break, tear at something that would have you perspire through the silk of your dress, leaving your knees even more wobbly.

You don’t try and free yourself though. Don’t even attempt at disingaging the situation, removing his searing palm from your bare arm. Because it’s the first time he’s touched you. Really touched you.

It was laughable.

The first touch from your soon to be husband happening in what seems to be—when you finally look up at him—in frustration, if the lowering of his brows is anything to go by. His dark eyes become so onyx you’re almost frightened of what they are holding back, what he’s holding back from the already tight grip he has on you.

“Stay.”

The words are simple and not at all what you expect from him.

“Why?”

He doesn’t say anything for a beat. The silence growing so deafening you feel yourself tremble when his thumb presses into your skin and starts a light back and forth motion—soft, soothing. “You know why,” and you think—know—those three words alone hold more meaning than any others could. In this situation. With this man; a chunk of ice melted somewhere deep in his chest. For you. From you.

Your lips shake when you part them to say something, what you don’t know. Anything. Everything. Whatever you have to make this moment drag on for centuries. To keep his hand on your body. To finally let yourself breathe for him, because of him.

But then an “ooh” is breaking the spell.

Both of your attentions turn to see two older women in the hall grinning widely at the two of you. Feeble fingers pointed to the ceiling, your brows coming together in confusion until your eyes follow theirs and you see it. Your heart no longer hammering in the pits of your abdomen, but leaving your body all together you’re convinced.

Mistletoe.

The look of worry fades quickly from your face when you see the amused heat that’s on K’uk’ulkan’s.

And while you’re still spiraling from his first touch, you feel completely floored by his next. With the hand at your bicep keeping you glued to him, his other cups your cheek. The pad of his thumb pressed just below your bottom lip. His eyes flashing from your mouth to your eyes, your brain going cloudy—legs barely keeping you stationary.

“May I kiss my wife?” There’s a ghost of a smile at the corners of his mouth.

A puff of air filled with something saccharine, heedy, and something on the cusps of insanity that makes your body turn into a forest fire—leaves you before you’re giving a slow nod and murmuring “yes.”

And when he leans in, excruciatingly slow. When his lips press to yours; full, warm, soft, breathtaking in the way they move against yours. Like he was made to kiss; to kiss you.

You know you’re absolutely screwed.

[lemonmeringueprincess]

Gurl i'm sooo screwed