So It Looks Like People Have To Call On My Shit In Order For My Ass To Write. So, @crybabychim Thanks

So it looks like people have to call on my shit in order for my ass to write. So, @crybabychim thanks for making me write spooky shit again, i forgot how much i love it.

Heyy I just wanted to tell you that your work is amazing and I love how you write soo much !! Thank you for giving us the opportunity to read such masterpieces ♡

Ó⁠╭⁠╮⁠Ò thank u so much, you're so lovely. i enjoy writing for y'all so much, it fills my heart with so much joy. (⁠っ⁠˘⁠з⁠(⁠˘⁠⌣⁠˘⁠ ⁠) kiss for u

So, I've been thinking about making like ASMR type of fanfics. Like there's a little drabble and I make the ambient. Idk, I wanna know what do you guys think? Let me know (⁠´⁠∩⁠｡⁠•⁠ ⁠ᵕ⁠ ⁠•⁠｡⁠∩⁠`⁠) (Been thinking about making ambient requests which would be fun too)

(18+, non-con, smut, mentions of death)

Sigh, it seemed like you were a teenager again. All the time with this eternal and lethargic tiredness, the light nose wrinkled in disgust with everything and everyone, the shoulders hunched in search of angst. You had screamed a few minutes ago, to be left alone, that the damn constant questionnaire was driving you crazy. No, you didn't know if you wanted to wear the cotton dress or the suede one, or if the sunglasses were too big, you didn't care. 

You had screamed a few minutes ago, and now only the immense and regurgitating loneliness of your closet accompanied you. It was raining heavily outside, but the closed windows didn't let you hear its sweet fall. Everything was abhorrent: another phrase you would have said when you were fourteen. 

You don't know what your husband saw in you the first time you met, but none of that mattered anymore. His opinion was about to be buried next to his disfigured, hand-stitched, suit-clad body. As if he were a rag doll.

The door opened after two firm knocks. There he was, the only person you could stand at the moment: Jeon Jungkook, your husband's servant. 

"Were you looking for me, My Lady?" His voice, abrupt and strong as a brick, warmed your burning head. Turning thoughts into a nebulous collection. 

You nodded. 

"I can't manage to do the only thing that is asked of me in this house." Your frustrating laugh didn't contort Jungkook's face in grief. That's why you needed him, you were tired of the probing around you and the way they spoke softly as if you were going to break. 

"It's not like it's easy on such a surreal day." 

"I thought he would die in a bed like all the men in his family." Your gaze drifted to the geometric figures on the carpet. Jungkook closed the door behind him, working on looking for a black dress suitable for the situation. "I thought," you continued, "that like the other wives, I would be at his side before he closed his eyes, that his children would be able to see him and remember his last smile." You shook your head, biting your thumb. "You cannot blame yourself for the circumstances, My Lady." Jungkook pointed to the armoire behind you, where there were three options, all daring in some way or another, but it's not like you were someone above those options. 

"Besides, it's not like, with all due respect, you and Mr. Bass were an ordinary couple." 

"Indeed." You were a young woman, he was old and rich. Everyone talked, laughed, cried, joked, and threatened about it in his family.

You pointed your finger at the dress on the left. 

"You'll need a corset for that," Jungkook murmured and turned around to look for the best option for that dress. 

Hands are next to the mirror, your mouth slightly open as you feel your skin and bones tighten beneath the fabric. Behind you, Jungkook used his thin, fine fingers to adjust the corset a little more. He looked from time to time at your reflection in search of a reaction, of pain, but you endured the molding of your bones like a champ. 

"You can tell me if it's too tight, My Lady." You shook your head and raised a hand, signaling for him to finish before you regretted choosing a type of dress that needed that kind of torture. When finished, he created a delicate bow. 

The whole morning had been torture for you: the funeral arrangements, your parents' faces full of melancholy, having to console your husband's children, the sorrowful voices of your maids when they tried to serve you tea or find a way for you to eat. Like you were a girl, it was horrible. That's why Apolonia and Gretchen weren't in your exaggerated closet with you, but rather your deceased husband's servant. Jungkook was a young boy, considering the fact that everyone in that mansion was in their 50s or older, men and women who raised each Bass since they were old enough to properly hold a child. 

Jungkook was young, like you, the two of you were barely six years apart. You had an obvious interest in men older than you, Jungkook was like a child the first night your husband brought him to introduce you three years ago. His eyes were always wide open, lips always a little parted, alert and helpful. He was adorable. 

But the man behind you was physically stronger, his long hair was tied up in a low bun, and his way of speaking was more fluid and assertive. He always said the right thing, it made your nipples hurt, and your heart fluttered between his words. 

"Would you like some kind of stocking for the dress?" 

"No, I think I'll go with high boots." 

"Very well, My Lady." While you were putting on the dress in front of the mirror, Jungkook didn't move from his spot, half of his body reflected next to you, hands behind his back and a little erratic with his gaze. "Everything okay, Jungkook?" The man lowered his face, a shameful laugh. 

"I'm sorry, it's just that from here you can see the place where Mr. Bass died. I can't imagine how much he suffered-" he sealed his lips with red cheeks. "I'm sorry, My Lady. It's insensitive to talk about something so brutal in front of you."

"No, please." You tried to smile. "It's not like the police didn't give me the raw details the next morning, the photos are still tattooed on my retina."

The face was chewed beyond recognition, and parts of the eyebrow and forehead were torn to the bone. Evidence of dental markings on the zygomatic bone and mental foramen.

You read the reports with your breakfast while the police questioned you about your relationship with Mr. Bass, the dogs in the house, and your opinion of his friends, his servants, and coworkers.

"I found it very unusual that you did not go through the garden to our farmer's cottage that day."

"The sun was at its highest point, and I felt like I was fainting every time I got out of bed."

"I understand." It was the only thing he said, he laughed at your response and you frowned, your skin crawling from the new questioning of your person.

"How do you know I go every day?"

"The farmer and I are very good friends, after your visits in the afternoons the smell of vanilla remains on the furniture when I visit the farmer at night for dinner."

"And how do you know I didn't go that afternoon?" You turned around, neck held high, aristocratic arrogance within you searching for what Jungkook truly wanted to say.

"The smell was not even on the pages of the book laid out on Mr. Bell's table. Your favorite book."

Your eyelids fluttered softly, deadly. You smiled.

"Go get my gloves, the long suede ones." You said in the softest tone possible.

Jungkook obeyed, covering each finger in the soft fabric.

"I know what you did to Mr. Bass." The voice was barely a trickle as he finished putting on the gloves, his large hands caressing the suede on your arm as if massaging the information into you.

You didn't know what to say. You swallowed deeply before snatching your arm from his caress, he stood there without stopping looking at you. It made you nauseous.

"It's not my duty to tell you the morality of your choices, but we can say that I agree with your decision, My Lady." He gets close, trying to finish the buttons of the dress with steady hands. "Even though Mister Ron and Master Edward will suffer greatly from the loss of their dear father."

"They will be fine, they will go to therapy." You were quick to answer.

"Of course. Nothing you can't solve. Turn around."

You were the one to obey this time. You stay still, looking at his reflection, waiting for the police to come in when your tongue accidentally slips the fact that you were the one who left the door open of the three beautiful Rottweilers, that you were the one that pointed and gave the distinct whistle for the three dogs to attack your husband.

"But you must know, My Lady." He licked his lips, thinking very well what he was about to say. "I won't fill My Lord's position in any shape or form, that's out of the question." The air was filled with a deep smell of roses, lilies, and all types of flowers that were arranged in every corner of the closet, its pungent smell making you a little dizzy.

"But I hope you know that I'll be here, always." His hand trailed, wandering off to your snatched and whalebone-molded waist. "In one way or another."

"Is this a proposal, Mr. Jeon? If it is, I can assure you this is very inappropriate and vulgar."

He opens his doe eyes, and a gloved and pristine hand reaches his chest. "Oh, My Lady, I'm so sorry. A simple mistake."

Another step, closer. Closer than ever in the last three years. It felt like a big and broad wall was destroyed in front of your eyes. Everything felt a little smaller around you, his face was more detailed and you couldn't smell those damn roses anymore.

"This is not an indecorous offer, but more of a negotiation."

"Is this about money?"

He seemed offended by your question.

"This is about information, my dear."

You tremble, your husband used to call you that when he was in a good mood. Now it felt like a threat in the honeyed voice of your dearest butler. "It's about you having the ability to negotiate and give me a great price for my silence."

He lifted your chin and took the plum lipstick sitting in your cabinet. He opened his mouth slightly, and you mirrored his face. The thick paste settled in your quivering lips as he dragged along the stick. "Now I know it was Mr. Bass' skill being the one who does... did, business. But I know you didn't study the same career as him just so you can sit around with that kind of information. Just to end up being the one who changes the colors and textures of the curtains in the mansion every season, to make tea parties and charities."

"I'm glad with the life I was given." Your voice shakes, and your eyes cannot stop drinking every little piece of heaven that made his face.

"I don't know what shoes to put on." You tried to sound as normal as you could.

"I'll help you with that, My Lady." You took a sit on the leather couch while he opened your wardrobe, dozens of shoes for every occasion and others to create them. "And no, I know you abhor the life you were, not given, but placed upon you like a rock you must climb to the top over and over again." He took a Miu Miu black pair of stilettos, and he smiled while putting the heels on your feet. "Like a feminine, aristocratic Sysiphus"

"How dare you?" Your cheeks burned in embarrassment, and you stood up with a growing pain in your stomach. Now you think about not remembering the last time you properly ate, besides cigarettes and an occasional toast.

"I dare because I know, not only about your boycott but about how you feel about me."

"Oh, please." You laughed so hard you worried the servants outside might hear you. Your trembling hands trying to put on a subtle silver necklace. Taken back when the rough hand made you turn around, the other pressing hard on your cheeks to see him, your fragile body falling to the couch next to you.

"I've seen you looking, I've seen what you read and what you wrote in your journal; read every page of that day. That summer in the chateau by the lake. You couldn't stop thinking about me, finding me in the bathtub jerking off." He laughed erratically. "I read every little note you made about it: the length, the girth, your opinions on my crooked moans. A very thorough essay, I must add."

"If you keep talking I will yell and tell everyone that you tried to rape me." This was absolutely ridiculous. So ridiculous that both of you went completely silent.

You never thought you could say something like that, even less to Jungkook, who respected you more than anyone else in the Bass house. You were a pariah because of your age, because your husband found you on vacation, and when he got home he already signed all the papers to make you his Lady. Almost 28 years apart, but you loved him more than yourself...until you didn't. Until he started treating you like he treated every ex-wife, but he fucked up; and know the coffin must be a closed one because the lovely Nova took a bite at his cheek, leaving the teeth exposed with a wide smile, the eye came out of his socket; the cops never found it.

The stoic expression Jungkook ported broke, shattered into pieces by the force of his sudden laughter; leaving you awestruck by his decadent beauty and the raw force of his devilish smile.

His long legs started getting closer in elongated steps, your nails digging into the fleshy brown of the leather couch when he got so close to your ear that the warm mist coming out of his lips made you tremble.

"I dare you."

The outline of a scream was the only thing you could create before your butler's hand sealed every orifice, you couldn't breathe. You fell to the floor trying to crawl, his knee pressing into your lower back until your entire body was flat on the carpet.

"Sh, sh, sh. Don't make this any harder than it should be."

You heard the ripping of your underwear, the corset stabbing into your lungs, causing the edges of your vision to turn black.

"God, you're wet." He said it as a surprise, expecting you to be a tough catch.

You shook your head, gasping for air, your nails useless with the gloves. His index finger moved so that you could breathe, the air entering and leaving your pits with a cry.

The sting of his cock entering your pussy made you scream, your body felt trapped between Jungkook's weight and yet you tried like a caterpillar to get out of its confines. You denied and denied and more juice came out of your pussy with each crash, it was sinful.

"Open that little hole for me, I'm going to do what your husband couldn't do."

You opened your eyes when you felt the hot liquid run down your thighs and into your dress. You grabbed Jungkook's hand when the brush of the carpet against your clit betrayed you and your pussy started pumping his cum out. A spanking, you moaned, raising your ass in the air looking for more.

"We could have done this like civilized people, but you never understand." He whispered in your ear before turning you around. A soft kiss to your needy lips, the hand-painted on your skin. You closed your eyes, letting your back arch at the strange sensation of being kissed with so much love.

"What I do not understand?" You whispered, brittle.

"Now that you have killed your husband, you have destroyed the only wall that protected you, which means you are just one more object in this mansion full of monsters that all they want is to kill you." His explanation was expressed so lovingly, that the caress on your cheek made two tears fall to your temples. "And I'm going to take advantage of how little you will be now. Like a hole in a wall, just a fucking bother." Another kiss, wet lips molded in heaven, the dark stains from your lipstick leaving evidence.

His smile warmed your chest, it sounded divine. To belong.

ps: gotta be honest with you, chief. this fic is not it for me but i felt like i had to write something, even though words are difficult for me. if you have some constructive criticism, please go ahead. as always thanks for reading, bisou.

omg blue, why is jimin from hollister so fucking hot?? aaaah i love him and his tongue piercing and and and omg 😵💫 sorry, brain no work, just a slut for hollister jimin atp. that long tongue and his piercing has me in a chokehold and why the fuck am i whipped just because he's chewing a piece of gum? am i crazy? when did chewing gum become THIS attractive to me?? he's so arrogant and flirty, he knows he's the shit and everyone's on his dick and aaaaah not just the oc, i fell into his trap too!!! 😵 send me to jail or send help. or maybe a sequel? :') what do you think about that? :,) maybe that can help too :')

VANI I CAN'T GET HIM OUT OF MY MIND 😔 ughhh, he's just so hot and he knows it, he can get oc to suck his dick right in the jeans aisle if he wanted to cus he's THAT bitch. Sequel you said? YES, already burning my keyboard with the last words so I can give it to you tonight

bored as fuck, please illuminate my day by talking to me and making requests i beg u