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levisgirll · 3 years

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Hi! I love your work so much! Could you do a oneshot/hc about y/o and Levi having a crush on each other. Hange knows that and asks y/o why won't she confess to him. Y/O is insecure coz she's younger than him by 5 + years and she thinks that Levi wouldn't want her coz she thinks that he thinks she's childish (lol how many thinks). Thanks!

𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 (𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐀𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

→ Text: Hi there sweet anon! Thank you for letting me know that you love my work 🥺 that makes me happy! And this is such a cute idea♡ ♡ I hope you enjoy this and let me know what you think about it if you can! Hope you see this and sorry it took awhile :,( Also, while writing this I was inspired by this song called kiss u better by Katzù Oso and Lady (Hear Me Tonight) by Modjo 🥰 they both were stuck in my head when I got your request!

Synopsis: Y/N and Levi have known each other for quite awhile now. Levi clearly likes Y/N, but she feels hesitant to take things further with Levi since they are both at university(when he is ready for that!) but won’t cause she is quite nervous and insecure. Levi and even Hanji notices that, and with that Levi takes his chance and tries to win his lover’s heart after a party at Zeke’s place. To make her finally have trust in him to give him a chance, and to prove to her that he would be a great man to y/n! Finally to open her heart again back to love <3 so find out what happens! (I promise you, you won’t regret this c: many soft and fluff levi!)

cute fluff, university modern au, headcanon imagine ♡ —

It was obvious, to everyone in their university course, also around campus, that Levi and Y/N totally had a crush on each other.

But Y/N is hesitant, even though though she might have a feeling that Levi might like her too, with the many moments they shared together, the times they went out together after lectures to go to the café, walking her home, watching sunsets together (but, Levi is watching you instead) and talk out their struggles and feelings, always texting and calling her to just at least hear from her everyday, buying her snacks and food to make sure she ate, all the time going out with her to any events, would bend down and tie her shoes for her if he saw undone, and also going to the shopping mall with her to just be by her side when she shopped all around.

During long trips too or taking the bus to the university, Y/N and Levi would swap seats, she wanted the window and Levi wanted to look at you instead.

Would definitely come over to your place during the days you didn’t eat or make any food, expect him to cook for you and especially clean your place! And you both would spend the evening at the balcony, watching the nightsky and if it was a bit chilly or there was a cold breeze, he would give you his jacket. “Tch, Don't want you catching a cold.”

Levi would also give her and buy her some flowers on special days such as her birthday, celebrations, and would just give you some if you ever felt sad! He wanted to see you happy all the time <3

Everyone at first thought Y/N and Levi were a couple and Levi was just being shy about it to not mention or talk about it. But in fact, it was Y/N who didn’t try and push the relationship to the next step. As she was feeling quite reluctant about it, feeling insecure that she was younger than him by 5 years and thought Levi was just doing all of these things to her as a ‘nice act’ and being polite and respectful. But, Y/N has no idea that one of Levi’s top love language was actually ‘acts of service’!

Levi is not the kind of man who would just do all of these things just randomly to someone unless he knows them pretty well and if he over does them, then he actually loves them! He would only do these things for Y/N knowing that she would like it, and he would honestly give up his time for you, and you only.

It was a long tiring day at university, but finally it was the last lecture for the day and the end of the first Semester! Y/N got up and took her stuff, ready to leave the lecture hall when Hanji jumped from behind her, giving her a hug around her shoulder. “Y/N! We finally finished!” Hanji said in their usual happy and cheerful tone. You smiled at Hanji and patted their head, “Yup, and the semester break started.” You said as you both left, heading to the university café.

Hanji smirked and elbowed Y/N to the side, “Soooo, I have been realizing for quite a while that you and Levi are getting at it, Huh.” Hanji said with a wink and started drinking their iced coffee drink, looking at Y/N who their cheeks started to heat up.

“W-What? It’s not what you are thinking though...” You mumbled and started to take your own drink, sipping it and looking away. “No way. You both are STILL not dating?! Why don’t you just confess to him? I can’t handle it anymore, you both are clearly in love with each other!” Hanji now started to squeal and was amazed how you and Levi were still not taking your relationship to the next step after being with him for such a long time. “Quiet down! I don’t want anyone to hear. But...I’m not sure, he might just think I am childish a-and might not want me..” You mumbled the last part and then gave out a sad sigh while looking down to your shoes, you were quite down about it whenever you thought about how you badly wanted to confess your feelings to him, but with how older he was to you, you probably just thought he was better off with someone else. You really did love him, but....does he? With the way he constantly checks up on you and asks about you, Y/N just wondered that he might just only do that cause he only worries for her only.

“Y/N! Wake up girl. Have ever you seen him treat you like this to anyone else? No!” Hanji wanted so badly to let you know that Levi did actually have a crush on you, but they promised Levi (well was threated by Levi) that they wouldn’t tell her.

You were about to question and ask about what Hanji meant when suddenly, Connie, Sasha and Mikasa came by. “Yo! Did you guys hear?” Connie said with a grin and brought a chair to join them, while Sasha and Mikasa tagged along giving you a little wave. “There is gonna be a party at Zeke’s place tonight! He invited us! I heard it’s gonna be crazy though.”

“As long there is free food, I am in!” Sasha said with a nod, already planning what she will eat first when she first goes there. Mikasa looked at you and then asked, “Y/N, if you are going. I’ll tag along.” She said while looking at you, waiting for a response. Zeke was a popular guy at your university and course, he knew everyone and everyone seemed to like him. You were once placed in the same group project with him and he helped you out a lot, and even during exams he seemed to be friendly enough to share you his notes to you! Y/N never got the chance to have a proper chat with him though.

But instead Hanji replied yelling out, “Oh hell Yea I am in! I never had the chance to hang out with Zeke, but I so wanna go to this party! Y/N Let’s go Please!” Hanji begged, giving you their usual puppy eyes and you sighed while getting up from your seat. “I’ll see and let you guys know.” You sighed and when you looked at your friends, all of them looked behind you and had a surprised look on their face. You went blank, and turned around slowly. Shit.

It was, Zeke. “Hey There.” Zeke said with a smirk and approached you closer, “Y/N, Yea?”

You stood there, all shocked and surprised, how the ‘cool popular guy’ from your university is actually talking to you right now. You felt all eyes on you and your friends were all there, their eyes widen and were seeing what the hell was gonna happen.

“Y-Yea. Um, do you need something?” Y/N said in a nervous tone, not sure what to say or do. “Yea, Come tonight to my party.” Zeke said bluntly, and you were about to question him why when Hanji suddenly held both of your shoulders and yelled out. “Yes Yes! We are all coming!”

“Great! See you all tonight, and you too...Y/N.” Zeke said in a flirty tone while he kept his eyes on you, then walked off. You just stood there, all surprised and taken aback at how quickly things escalated. “Hanji...Seriously?” You let out a sigh and decided to walk out of the café, while Mikasa, Hanji, Connie and Sasha tagged you along. All talking about what to wear and when they are going.

As you were walking with them, you got a text message. When you saw who it was, you made a big smile.

Levi: Hey, Where are you now?

Y/N: With the others, still at campus though. Something up?

Levi: No. Also, was wondering what are your plans for tonight.

You stopped walking, and stood still, and you felt your cheeks go hot. You really liked it when Levi asked you out for hang outs.

Y/N: Well, Hanji and the others are begging me to go to Zeke’s party. So going there tonight.

Levi:....Okay, I am coming too. Don’t go in without me.

“Oh, Levi is coming too.” You said aloud to yourself but Hanji heard it and was so shocked. “Levi? You mean Levi ACKERMAN? That guy never ever goes out with any of us, especially to parties.”

After hearing what Hanji said, you wondered and thought, maybe just maybe....he might like you? But you later shook the thought off away from your mind.

You decided in the end to go and just meet your friends and Levi in front of Zeke’s place. You started to get ready once you got back to your place as the evening was approaching wore your favourite outfit, and just get the night over with. Hopefully nothing crazy happens right? I mean you had Levi and your other friends. So surely, it will be okay.

The night approached, and you were outside Zeke’s place, his house was huge as expected from a popular university student. You suddenly felt a hand on your shoulder and you turned to see the person you loved most, Levi.

“O-Oh, Hey!!” You quickly said, quite taken aback with his sudden appearance. “Was trying to call you out but guess you didn’t hear me.” He said with a teasing tone and went to hug you gently. He noticed what you wore, and to him anything you wore always looked beautiful and pretty to his eyes, he just wanted to say it and say how great you looked but he knew he could not do that. “You good? Where is four eyes and the others.” He said trying to ignore his thought while he had a slight faint blush which you didn’t notice.

“Soon, they are coming. Lets go in though, I think Miche and some others went ahead too.” You said looking around and as you started to head in, Levi held you hand and said calmly but had a nervous tone in him. “Wait um, I don't want us to separate so c-can I hold your hand?” Levi said but then quickly looked away, cursing himself for stuttering like an idiot in front of the the girl he loves.

You felt your face burning up and you held out your hand to him, and nodded, to which he gently held your hand and you both entered inside Zeke’s place. Wondering what the other side awaits.

It was crowded, too crowded. You felt nervous but with Levi’s soft touch holding your hand tightly, you felt relieved and safe, he was there holding you tightly, making sure no one weird was behind you and he would let you walk in front of him as he put his hand on your shoulder. Levi was honestly keep his eye out for you, it was his instinct to protect you and always making sure you are comfortable and safe. Afterall, you did mean a lot to him.

“Hey! Y/N came and Woah....Levi!” Miche yelled out waving at the both of you while Nanaba was by his side smirking at you two. You quickly let go of Levi’s hand and went away from him, Levi glanced at you on his side, a bit hurt how you let your hand go, how he didn't get to feel your touch anymore.

“Tch....What is it.” Levi said in his usual annoyed tone and gave them his stoic expression because of how they interrupted, and making Y/N letting go of him. “Zeke was waiting for you guys, Come on.” Nanaba said while a grin and kept her hand around Y/N’s shoulder to guide her and Levi to where Zeke and the others are at. Apparently he gathered around certain people and you and your other friends where among them!

You saw all your friends, Jean, Mikasa, Armin, Eren, Sasha, Connie and Hanji and many others you recognize! You spotted Zeke talking to Pieck Finger, another popular girl in your university and once you both had eye contact together, he got up and waved at you. “Hey you came!” Zeke said with a happy tone and approached you, he then noticed Levi who was clearly glaring at him. “Oh. Levi.” Zeke said bluntly and looked away from him, completely ignoring Levi and gave Y/N a smirk. “Let’s begin the fun, sweetheart?” You were taken aback when he called you that, Wait..did he actually call me that?

This fucking bastard. Levi thought as he was trying to control himself not to twist the guy’s hand when he placed his hand on your shoulder.

“Okay everyone listen up! Since the first semester finished, and to celebrate. To have a little fun, I decided let’s all play Drink or Dare!” Everyone now got hyped up and gathered around, sitting in the coaches and were all excited. You had a weird gut feeling about this as you sat next to Jean while Levi followed you and leaned aganist the coach side with his arms crossed, completely not interested in what the hell Zeke is doing, but he was just here for you.

“But...If no one does the Dare I tell them, you have to drink something I made instead and nothing else.” He pointed at the big bottle that was on the table, it had a label saying Zeke’s Spinal Fluid which you found really odd for a drink to be called like that. Afterall, he was the kind of guy who would do these random things. You figured it might have been just a weird mixture of juices all together. You asked Armin to which he said that he was not even sure himself what was in the drink and would prefer to do the dares instead!

It went by turns and everyone seemed to have been doing the dares they were told to do, such as Jean getting a dare from Eren to call a random number and try to flirt with the person whoever picks up (and how he terribly failed on that, making everyone laugh like crazy). Overall, the night was going great and everyone seemed to having fun, including yourself! Although, you did not notice though that Levi, this whole time couldn’t take his eyes off you and Zeke noticed that instead. This was now Zeke’s time to ‘shine’.

“Okay. I got a dare for you. Y/N.” Zeke said with a smirk, looking directly at your eyes with his arms crossed, which made you jolt a bit, and this got everyone’s attention. Everyone was now curious what kind of dare Zeke would give you.

“Hm...” He stood there thinking and pushing his glasses a bit up, Levi started to slowly get irritated and was ready to beat this guy up anytime. He hated how he caught Zeke seductively looking at you and would sometimes add in flirty comments to you during the game, he found him extremely annoying and hated him even more.

“I dare you to kiss me.” He said bluntly with a grin, this made everyone yell out with a surprise, especially Hanji. “Oh my god! How lucky of her, Zeke is a great kisser Y/N!” Pieck said with a giggle, as soon as Zeke was gonna approach you, Levi got up and stood in front of him.

“Fuck that. I’m not gonna allow it.” Levi said with such a enraged and threatening tone while he glared at Zeke. Levi’s eyebrows frowned and his jawline was now tensed up, he was now ready to fucking kill the guy. How could he even make such a dare to Y/N? Levi clearly knew that he was trying to get on his nerves ever since he met him.

“I mean....I asked Y/N. And if not, she needs to drink. I mean it is part of the game!” Zeke said playfully while looking at you. Y/N now felt worried, she definitely did not want her first kiss to be with Zeke! and also she definitely did not want to drink Zeke’s drink as she felt very uncomfortable about it. But, she mostly felt worried for Levi, worried if he would actually beat up the popular guy and getting in trouble of it because of her!

Y/N quickly got up and held on Levi’s arm which made him slowly control his anger a bit with Zeke. But what happened next shocked you.

Levi went to the table, picked up Zeke’s Spinal Fluid drink and poured the whole drink on the floor. “No. Fuck you and your game anyways shit face.” Levi said in a pissed tone, his jaw still clenched and he gave Zeke such an intense eye contact which actually scared him a bit and took a step back, away from Levi. Everyone now was all shocked by what Levi did, they never saw him go this mad or angry, and the fact that it was because of this dare to Y/N was even more shocking. Most of the reason is also because Levi would never tolerate anyone who would make you feel uncomfortable or put you in a situation you didn’t like.

Levi then, just grabbed your hand and took you out of the room, and out of his place, you just held his hand tightly, looked at his back, his undercut and your eyes would widen. Feeling all the butterflies now in your stomach slowly growing, and having also getting your fuzzy feeling. You loved how Levi just did that all, for you.

You haven’t even realized, after walking out for such a long time with Levi, still holding his hand and looking at him from behind. You felt shy and even nervous to say anything, Y/N then looked around and realized they ended up in small garden park and Levi gestured you towards a bench to sit that was near the both of you.

“Hey. You okay?” Levi said, looking down at you with both of his hands in his pockets, focusing on your eyes and facial expressions for any sign of you feeling scared or uncomfortable. But found none, and instead you were calm and happy.

“Yup. Thanks Levi.” You said shyly and looked away. It was now quiet between the both of you. Levi wondered and thought to himself, why did he react like that earlier. He could have just easily walked you out with him and not say anything or even not pour the whole drink away, ruining the game and the mood. But, he didn’t care. Levi did then admit to himself that he actually felt a bit jealous when he saw how other guys tried to approach you, how they talked to you, and how you smiled at them when he barely gets to see that from you sometimes (and it was just because you were shy when it comes to your crush, Levi).

And Zeke, made it all worse and terrible for him. He hated how he just had the audacity to just flirt with you and touch you, Levi swore the next time he sees him, he will make sure to twist his arm.

He looked back at you, and then mumbled something, which got Y/N’s attention. “Hm? I didn’t quite hear that. What did you say?” You said in a curious tone and looked up at Levi, who was shyly looking away from you, and he started to slowly go red.

“I said....” Levi then mumbled it again the last few words. ‘What?!’ You thought to yourself, all confused and Levi then sigh and looked at you. Finally saying what was in his mind tonight to you. He didn’t care anymore, just being at the party tonight and all made him realize that he had to let you know how he really felt.

“Tch...I said that...I can kiss you better than that shit face.” You stood there, feeling as if your whole face burned up, and you jolted up from your seat. Not believing what he actually said. Levi then looked at you, and you could see his cheeks go red, feeling all embarrassed and flustered while scratching the back of his head. Oh my god. Was your words on repeat in your head this whole time.

Now, Levi had an internal monologue on whether what he was gonna do and say was the right or wrong thing. But it was now or never to tell Y/N whom he knew for quite a while that he was in love with her. He couldn't handle this foreign feeling he kept feeling all the time with you and every time he tried to avoid it, it kept growing.

He then mastered all his courage and took your hand and slightly pulled it while caressing it. “I hope that it’s true...”

“What it?” You said quietly but still having your shocked expression.

“If you are feeling what I am feeling now....Please let me know that it’s real.” Now, he sounded real soft, and he was begging you to finally give him a chance, to let him know and not to ignore this feeling you both shared, it was hard for him to even explain it and say it in words to you and he hoped you got his message. “Just hear me out tonight.” Even thought he was feeling a bit overwhelmed at how you might still not accept him and this. You were shocked, and surprised because this whole time you thought Levi wouldn’t want someone like you. He wouldn’t confess unless he knew for sure you reciprocated this feeling he had, but he wanted to hear it from you.

You nodded slightly and finally looked at him, at his eyes which was now glisten and realizing his love for you is real, while his pupil size increases, looking at you.

“Y/N, I’m falling for you. And, I can’t get you out of my mind.” He now took your other hand, and pulled you a bit slower, still looking at your eyes. “I am feeling love for the first time when it comes with you...I can also tell by the look in your eyes that...you do too.” He said gently and brought his hand to softly touch your side cheek, you felt his cold fingers warming up your cheek that you still felt burning up.

“So....Please let me love you. And give me a chance?” You finally felt your heart warm up but also melt at the same time, the fuzzy feeling kept on growing and your eyes now soften, to your eyes now tearing up, letting out your emotions. You felt happy and loved. And you thought, at long last love has arrived for Y/N, one which you craved a lot, especially from Levi. You decided to open your heart up for him and it was the best decision you ever made. Levi understood your actions and gave you a big smile, not even words can describe how he was feeling too, and he then, slowly went closer and closer to your face, to your lips, and finally. Levi kissed you. A sweet kiss under the beautiful moonlight, one you won't ever forget. Is this how love feels? How a kiss feels? Apparently it was Levi’s first kiss too and even though you both weren’t sure how to do it, you both didn’t mind, cause now you both are together, having each other, and with time Love would guide you both ♥

If only this happened sooner you wondered as you both kept on kissing and trying to kiss again and again to get the hang of it. He was happily and willing to listen if you just let him know how you were feeling from the start, but the same thing could be said to him too. And, he never found you childish, and instead he found you as his girl, which he can now say proudly.

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬: Apparently, it turned out that Zeke played out an act and everyone was part of it! It was mainly Hanji’s plan just to get Levi’s nerves and to make him or either you confess both of your feelings ASAP as everyone in your university campus was shipping you both so hard. But now, Zeke is scared shit of Levi and he would never do this again, never listening and following Hanji’s plan ever again.

wow I actually loved how this work turned out!♡ I really hope you like this anon and everyone else who read this I hope you enjoyed it too🥺 Please let me know by leaving a like, a reblog or a message!

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patd--phan · 3 years

Text

Wanna Be Yours

Pairing: Dadsbestfriend! Bucky (mid/late 40s) x reader (in early/mid twenties)

Summary: Y/N surprises bucky on a business trip and he promises to be hers.

Warnings: SMUTTY stuff (18+ only pleasee), unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (m receiving), riding, teasing, significant age gap, reader takes charge, “Doll/sweets/baby/sweetheart”, some cute ass shit at the beginning and end tho

WC: about 3K im sorry I was really H*rny yesterday and I was unable to do anything about it as i was stuck in the car all damn day

Note: So I was really h*rny yesterday and this happened lol I’m sorry. Loosely based on the song wanna be yours-arctic monkeys. Also this will probably be the only smut I ever write bc I don’t wanna become an 18+ blog or make anyone uncomfortable (not that 18+ blogs are bad tho lemme set that straight, most of my fav blogs are)

PS thank you for the love on my first ever fic with Peter Parker x reader, it made me so happy that ppl didn’t think I suck lol ( and i guess i lied saying i would probably never write another one shot lol)

You do NOT have my permission to repost this anywhere, I will come for u if you plagiarize ok bye

It was no secret that Bucky liked to be in charge in the bedroom, and you had absolutely no problem with that. After all, he was older and more experienced; he knew how to make your body sing. But this week you were craving something a little different. Bucky had been away on a business trip all weekend and you really missed him, not just the sex (but I mean…) but just cuddling and talking to him about your day; you were feeling clingy. You decide to text bucky even though you knew he couldn’t answer right away because he was currently in a meeting.

Y/N: I mis youu :( when will you be back tomorrow?

You just wandered around your apartment for the next 20 minutes, casually checking your phone about every 30 seconds just in case bucky was able to sneak in a text. He finally replied after 30 minutes, right as his meeting was ending at 3.

Bucky: Hey doll, I miss you too <3

Bucky: unfortunately one of the investors this morning had to push their meeting to late tomorrow afternoon, so I’m not gonna be home until very late tomorrow night :(

Y/N: dammit :(

Y/N: well good luck at the pitch meeting tomorrow, I love and miss you <3

Bucky: don’t gimme that pout I know your making doll, ill see you tonight on facetime! :)

Y/N: haha u know me so well, and yes you’ll see me tonight ;) (but I still miss u)

Bucky: I know doll I hate it too, see you tonight. Love you <3

Y/n: love you too <3

You didn’t know if you could go until late Monday without seeing bucky. As you laid on the couch smiling sadly about missing your love, an idea popped into your head. He was only two and a half hours away, and he wouldn’t be back at his hotel for another 4 hours at least. Fuck it, you were gonna go drive to his hotel and surprise him. You couldn’t be away so long, you felt super clingy this weekend and you needed to be on top of with him.

You quickly ran around your apartment, packing an overnight bag and you saw the package that arrived earlier on your floor that you completely forgot about because you couldn’t stop thinking of Bucky. You remembered its contents e(a completely evil lingerie set) and threw it in the bag with a smirk on your face.

The drive to Bucky’s hotel felt like forever and you had to remind yourself to stop speeding because you were so excited. When you finally got to his hotel, you had to convince the manager to give you a key to his room, proving that you were the man’s girlfriend with several pictures on your phone which was slightly embarrassing because in almost every picture, at least one of you was half-naked. Worth it. You thought. When you arrived in his room you quickly went into the bathroom to change into a little black dress (with a surprise underneath). Then as you were sitting on his bed waiting for him, you realized it would still be a while before he would get back, so you decided to tidy up his things, packing his clothes and organizing his suitcase. Pleased with your work, you sat back down on the bed and looked at your phone for a while. You finally got pulled out of your Instagram daze when you heard Bucky’s voice in the hallway laughing at something a coworker said. You quickly threw your phone on the dresser, straightened up you dress, and sat at the edge of the bed with a huge smile on your face, giddy to surprise him.

As he turned the doorknob he was still looking behind him talking to the man. When he finally said goodbye and turned his head around, his eyebrows raised up and his jaw dropped, which was quickly replaced with a smile even larger than yours.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, running towards you and throwing his briefcase on the floor.

He picked you up in a tight hug and you squealed, legs immediately wrapping around his waist.

“I told you you’d see me tonight!” you said, still clung to him like a koala.

“W-what?” He replied, still in shock. Letting your legs fall back to the floor.

“I just missed you too much” you shrugged.

If any human could embody “heart eyes” it was Bucky at that moment- he’s such a softie for you. He pulled your face towards him and gave you one of the most loving kisses you’ve ever had in your life. You were expecting it to be passionate and rough, but it was soft, delicate and loving, and your heart melted into a puddle. After your lips parted, you gazed into each other’s eyes before being pulled up in another tight hug. You giggled and wrapped your legs around him again.

“I guess you missed me too huh?” you laughed.

“Oh doll, you have no idea.”

You wrapped your hands in his hair, massaging his neck and he moaned loudly.

“Mm, that feels nice.” He hummed.

“You tired baby?” you asked, he seemed like he needed some TLC (and you were ready to give it to him).

“I am so exhausted.” He replied, making you frown behind his back.

You slowly slid down his body, back onto your feet again, and kept massaging his head. He looked at you lovingly before looking around his hotel room, his eyebrows pulled in confusion.

“Did you clean up in here?”

“Yep, while I was waiting for ya,” you replied, smiling.

His whole face softened.

“Oh, I really don’t deserve you doll.” Making you smile and shake your head.

“Oh yes you do.” You replied making him smile and his heart flutter in his chest.

He pulled you in for another kiss, this one with more fire and longing in it than the last one. His large hands grabbed you ass to pull you closer to him and you moaned into the kiss. You pressed your body against him even tighter and ran your hands through his hair making him moan. You could feel his pants tent start to grow against you and you smirked and moved you lips down to the side of his neck making him groan.

You pull back and look at him, hard and eyes half lidded, it turns you on so much you feel your panties dampening.

“Hey Buck?” you whisper, lips mere inches apart.

“Hmm?” he hums in response.

“I have another surprise for you.” You whisper into his ear before pulling back to look at his face.

“What’s that, doll?” he whispers.

You smirk and step away from him, noticing the confusion on his face before you pull your dress over your head and throw it onto the floor.

Bucky’s jaw drops, making you bite your lip and smirk even more. This was gonna be fun.

“Oh, fuck me,” He groans.

“Oh, I fully intend on it, Buck” you smirk.

He just groans and starts walking towards you.

“Buck?”

“Yeah sweets?”

“Wanna be mine tonight?”

“Fuck, I’ll be yours forever doll.” He says, making you whimper. You pull him against you by his tie, pressing your bodies together.

Your lips crash and tongues swirl together fighting for dominance. Hands moving up and down each other’s bodies like animals. Bucky squeezing your ass so tight you know there’s gonna be marks.

You both pull back enough so you can shimmy off Bucky’s tie and throw it over his head before unbuttoning his shirt and peeling it off him. You then sink to your knees and undo his belt quickly before slowly unzipping his pants, kissing the outside of his member though his pants making him exhale a breath sharply.

“Fuck” he breathes out.

You don’t want to tease him too much (yet) so after another kiss, you shove his pants off and lay down on the bed, his body caging you under him.

The passionate makeout session resumes with Bucky still hard in his boxers pressing against your clothed core. You suddenly remember what you wanted and pull back from the kiss.

“Wait, no” you whisper.

Bucky pulls back, confused and nervous he did something to hurt you.

“What’s wrong?” he whispers.

You take advantage of his confusion and roll him over so you were straddling him with a smirk on your face.

Bucky moans at your actions, core pressing tight against him.

“You said you’d be mine.” You breathe over his lips. Moaning as being in charge is giving you a whole rush of feelings and confidence.

You kiss him, and he lets you dominate the kiss this time, biting his lips and grinding on him. He bucks his hips onto your and you pull back.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll take care of you, I’ll make you feel so good.”

Bucky moans at your words as you start to kiss all the way down his body, leaving little hickies down his chest. When you get towards his boxers he thinks your gonna kiss his member or pull down his boxers, but instead you go back up his chest, licking a stripe from his belly button all the way to one of his nipples, up his neck, to his lips.

Bucky moans, loud. You give him one more kiss before deciding to stop teasing him (kinda). You quickly kiss down his chest again and then plant a few kisses on his aching cock through his boxers. He bucks his hips and is whimpering under you. Fuck, that turns you on. Your big strong boyfriend who could probably crush you with one arm, whimpering and practically begging under you. Your panties are fucking soaked and you don’t think you can deny your own pleasure too much longer. You pull down his boxers and his cock is throbbing and dripping precum.

“Shit” you moan at the sight.

You lick the precum off him and he gives a high pitched moan that goes straight to your core.

“Baby please, I- I can’t.”

“Don’t worry baby I got you.” You reply as you take his full member into your mouth, sucking lightly.

Bucky moans and bucks his hips into your mouth. You push them back down and suck a few more times before getting off of him. He looks worried for a second before you slide your panties off and straddle his cock.

“Still wanna be mine?”

“Always” he replies.

You sink down onto him, jaw dropping and eyes closing at the feeling. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to him no matter how many times he’s been inside you. You both moan as his whole cock is finally buried inside you.

“Fuck Bucky, you feel so fucking good in me.” You moan, starting to rock your hips.

“God, I’m so fucking wet for you.”

Bucky continues to give low moans as you start to ride him.

“Fuck baby, I love you like this.” He says, making you start to ride him harder, moaning at his words.

His hands come grab your hips to help you ride him faster, harder.

“Baby- shit I’m close already.” He pleads.

“All for me? Shit baby aren’t I the lucky one?” You moan.

Bucky’s grip on your hips tighten and he starts to fuck up into you. He was about to blow.

You moan loudly at the feeling. “Cum in me baby please I need it.”

After a particularly hard thrust into your wet pussy you feel him spilling inside you. He lets out one of those vulgar high pitched moans and grunts that make your brain short circuit and your eyes roll back while your pussy clenches around him. You feel yourself getting close, but you want to give him another orgasm, so you sink down on him fully and slowly ride him, hearing him whimpering and moaning. You feel him get hard in you again (thank you supersoldier serum) and you rock back and forth on him. You reach down to rub your clit, but Bucky sees it and swats your hand away, replacing it with his metal one.

“Oh fuck” you moan at the cool sensation.

You start to bounce up and down on him again, the knot in your abdomen building and heating up. You feel yourself close to being undone as you ride him and his other hand runs up your body and squeezes your nipple through your thin lace bra. You moan and feel yourself clench around him, making him moan.

“Fuck- I’m gonna c-“ you get interrupted by the white hot explosion of your orgasm. Your eyes roll back, jaw hangs open and toes curl as you feel that release knock throughout your whole body, making you shake. You let out those high pitched moans and whines that only Bucky makes you feel.

Feeling you clench around him and watching your completely fucked out face, you feel Bucky’s thick cock twitch inside of you, and you moan as you feel him release in you again. Fuck that makes you feel good. So good you can’t think or move and you start to collapse on top of Bucky, but he slightly catches you and lays you down on his chest, both breathing heavy, with his cock still inside you, cum dripping all down your legs and onto Bucky.

You can’t speak, can’t think, the pleasure totally ruining you. After what feels like forever, you feel your breathing start to return to normal, as does Bucky’s, and you feel his hand rubbing up and down your back, grounding you back to earth from wherever on cloud nine you were.

You hum as you feel yourself finally calm down.

“Holy fuck, doll” you feel him lowly whine in your ear. You can only moan lowly in response.

“Baby that was fucking amazing.”

“Mmhmm.” You hum.

“…but I think I’m gonna lose my mind if you keep clenching around me.” He chuckles.

“oh shit, sorry,” you mumble out. You try to push up off of him but the farthest you got was placing your hands on his shoulders before your body gave up on you.

“Oh my God, I can’t move” you whisper. You’re so fucked out, your body won’t respond to your brain anymore.

Bucky moans at your words and slowly rolls both of you so youre on your side facing him. He reaches down and pulls his soft cock out of your pussy, moaning when he sees a burst of cum leaking from you.

You moan at the feeling of him exiting your body. You look him in the eyes and give him a lazy smile. His eyes sparkle back at you and his hand comes up to rub your cheek.

“Mm” you hum at the feeling.

“That was fucking incredible” he says, making you smile wider.

“I’m not disagreeing” you quip.

He chuckles lightly before saying “you gotta do this more often.”

“What, surprise you on business trips?” you question.

“No” he rolls his eyes and smiles, “Well yes actually, but I was talking about you absolutely taking charge tonight.”

“Oh yeah?” you smirk.

“Fuck yeah doll, I don’t think I’ve ever cum as hard. You looked so damn sexy in charge.”

You look away from his eyes, shying at his words, but also they were giving you the confidence to look right back into his eyes and say “I agree” with a smirk.

“I love hearing those high pitched moans you make, It turns me on so much” you admit.

“You know, only you can get those noises out of me, doll” he chides. You blush and smile at him.

He chuckles and you bring his face towards yours and kiss him deeply, tongues meeting together. You both hum into the kiss as his hand rubs down the side of your body.

When you break the kiss, both of you needing a breath, he pulls your body towards him, resting your head on his chest. You hum in peace as he rubs your back.

“I love you so much Y/N” he says and you feel your heart absolutely burst in your chest.

“I love you so much too Buck,” you reply, lifting your head to peck him on the lips before placing your head back on his chest.

You lay in silence for a minute before your mind begins to wander again.

“Did you mean it?” you ask.

“Mean what, doll?”

“That you’ll be mine forever?” you ask. “I mean not just in the sexy way but that you’ll be with me forever?” you ramble out.

“God yes sweetheart, you’re the one for me.” He responds and you didn’t think your heart could explode anymore, but it just did.

You squeeze his shoulder with your hand before coming up to kiss him passionately again, almost crying at all of the love going though you.

“I promise I’m all yours forever too, Buck” you smile at him.

“Good,” he smiles back, and you rest back on his chest, eyes getting droopy.

“Night-night sweetheart.” You feel yourself smile in your sleep.

“Goodnight my love.” You reply, further cuddling into his chest. Bucky feels his heart combust in his chest. God, wasn’t he lucky to have you. He didn’t know what he did to deserve you, but he knew that he was going to assure you that you deserve the world every day for the rest of his life. He kissed the top of your head before falling into a deep sleep, content with his favorite person tight in his arms.

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jvngkook97 · 2 years

Note

Hoseok in the club and tons of angst, but maybe some fluff at the end?

In the Night

pairing; jung hoseok x f!reader

genre; angst, open ending that can turn into a fluffy one if you so desire, sorry I tried lol

warnings; cursing, dirty dancing, infidelity, implied smut, hints at past sexual experiences

w/c; 1,114

a/n; only knowing how clubs work from movies and tv shows, not personal experience, this is what was contrived in my head. unknowingly became long once I got lost in the plot and was able to do the Taylor Swift anon request as well. hope you enjoy, anons! feedback and requests are appreciated as always!

Normally, in this situation, you would’ve enjoyed watching the dancer move his body so freely without a care in the world, no choreography needed. Just the beat and rhythm as his guide.

You can imagine yourself pressed against him, joining him in a shared dance that only you two know so well. His hands would be dangerously low on your hips, basically grabbing your ass in order to keep you grinding onto his leg that would be slotted in between yours igniting a fire within you that could only be satiated with more of him in between your thighs and tangled in sheets.

But right now? Right now you despised it.

Because yes. You can imagine it. But why should you? When he’s doing the same exact dance with someone else. Someone who isn’t you. Right in front of you. In real time.

You had no idea that you could feel so much rage in such little time. But this fire has no way of being put out anytime soon. And definitely not in the way you would’ve liked. Not when he had the nerve to then lean down and further drive a figurative knife into your already bleeding heart by sharing a kiss where lips meet teeth and tongue. He sang a song when he did it, he was cold and he was so unforgiving. The strobing lights couldn’t even shield you from what you just witnessed, if anything, it only accentuated it more making the betrayal even that much more suffering to endure.

He texted you that he got stuck at work. You replied back asking how long he thinks it’s going to be before he gets home cause you got invited to go to a girls night out, but didn’t want it to interfere with your own personal time with him if he was able to get off at a decent hour. You think he meant to reply back, but forgot, considering it might be the reason he accidentally butt dialed you while he was dancing, or you could only assume so. At first you tried calling his name through the phone, but after only hearing the blaring sound of music through his phone for a couple of minutes did you realize the truth. Listening closely you could hear in between songs your favorite DJ as well as Hoseok’s promote the current club you were in. Blank Space. And that’s how you knew.

In less than 30 minutes you put on your sexiest outfit that would normally only be reserved for the dancer in private quarters and decided you were having a solo girl’s night out. So yes, you were looking fine as fuck and knew it. Hell, you wanted everyone in that club to feel your confidence radiating off of you. Especially him.

You could’ve been running off adrenaline or the 3 shots you took when you first walked into the club. Whatever it was, it was enough for you to walk gracefully in between bodies as you slowly gained distance to the dancer and his current partner. Who yet again, wasn’t you.

Not wasting any time, you surveyed the surrounding dancers and caught the eye of someone you knew would be the exact type of person to piss Hoseok off. This poor unfortunate soul had no idea what was coming.

Using the music as your own personal guide now, you not so subtly shoulder checked Hoseok as you sashayed your way to your victim of the night, if only for a short period of time.

Drunk off liquor or dancing Hoseok turned to where he saw the body that shoulder checked him out of his peripheral getting ready to sneer at the unruly and unwarranted interruption.

“Excuse the fuck out of–“, is all he was able to get out as he started choking for air, involuntarily gasping out of shock or fear, you didn’t know nor did you care.

Making sure to keep direct eye contact with Hoseok you let out your own sneer, one of disgust and anger while letting your random willing victim handle your body with what must be expertise and skill the way their hands are touching and guiding you along to the music.

“How’s work going, husband?” You spoke loud enough over the music for not only Hoseok but his dance partner as well to hear clearly with a sickly sweet smile.

The moment he saw you he stopped dancing, immediately pushing the nameless woman away from him acting as if disgusted with her let alone himself. Yeah, right. You thought inwardly. What a show he’s putting on for getting caught in the act.

Pushing off the body behind you who finally freed you from their constraint upon hearing you address your husband he shuffled off with a scoff and “screw this”, before gliding between other nameless club goers, probably searching for someone who isn’t taken this time.

Wordlessly, you made a show of slowly taking off your wedding ring and shoving it in Hoseok’s chest.

“Keep it!” You hollered over the music. “I’m sure she doesn’t mind sloppy seconds after all.” You directed towards the woman who had the decency to look ashamed. Give these two an award, you thought. They deserve one.

“Baby, please, let me explain–“. Is all he was able to get out before you angrily shoved your way through the both of them and towards the side exit you knew all too well from the many visits you shared with the dancer. Purposely trying to get lost in bodies along the way in order to avoid any further confrontation. For once, the strobe lights working in your favor.

It worked. Or so you thought.

Pushing out the side exit you nearly made it to the taxi you flagged down before hearing the said door you just exited from slam open hitting the brick wall of the alley way.

He didn’t reach you in time. Making sure to keep eye contact as you sat in the back of the taxi, you slammed the door right when he reached you and mockingly waved goodbye to the life you once knew as the car pulled away from the curb. His face crumbling in sorrow as tears ran down his cheeks. His lanky, yet toned, body seemingly folding in on itself in despair over losing you as he helplessly watches the back of the taxi leave with his entire life in it.

Would you take him back? You thought with a heavy exhale as the adrenaline faded and you laid back against the seat. Maybe. Who knows? But fuck all if he didn’t have to grovel at your feet and work his ass off for it.

Cause darling you’re a nightmare, dressed like a daydream.

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choking-on-tae · 3 years

Text

ATEEZ Reaction to: Braiding your hair

Anon asked: could you do a reaction to ateez braiding your hair? could be like aftercare fluff or smut before they fuck u (reminds me of that scene from 50 shades lol)

A/N: I decided to make this fluff because this I haven't written some fluff in a while. Or is it smut? idk I went for fluffy with some members and a bit more steamy with others, oops. Anyways I hope you'll like this and as usual gifs aren't mine and credits to the rightful owners! x

Seonghwa

Seonghwa bites down on his bottom lip as he focuses on the task at hand, braiding your hair. You've shown him a video of what you want and Seonghwa being Seonghwa, he felt confident he could pull it off. He didn't expect it to be so hard. He tries his best to make the braid perfect and in the process accidentally pulls a little harder than intended on your hair.

You let out a gasp as your eyes grow wide. Seonghwa does the same before a smirk spreads across his lips when an idea pops into his head. He pulls a little harder until your back is pressed against his chest. Seonghwa leans down to whisper in your ear, "I think you like that, don't you baby girl? You like it when I pull your hair?"

You're about to deny it when he does it again, this time catching you of guard again, making you let an even louder whine this time.

Seonghwa chuckles as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, pressing soft kisses against it as his hands gently caress your body. Slowly working you up.

"Well, maybe I should pull your hair more often princess. I bet you'd like it when I get a little rough."

Hongjoong

As soon as you brought up the idea Hongjoong couldn't contain his excitement. He really likes braids as has always thought they were beautiful, so when you asked him to braid your hair he was behind you in an instant, making you giggle. He kneels down behind you on the couch as he gently takes a few strands of hair. Hongjoong tries his best to make the perfect braid, but let's be honest here braiding can be fucking difficult.

Hongjoong huffs in frustration as he undoes the braid to try again, making you giggle. You've always liked it when people play with your hair and knowing that your boyfriend is doing it, it only makes you feel more loved.

"Okay, can you show me the video again? I'm kind of stuck here."

You chuckle at his words as you take out your phone, going back to the video and holding it up so he can watch it while braiding your hair.

Hongjoong smiles softly as he leans in to press a soft kiss against your cheek. "Thank you baby, I'll try my best to make it look perfect."

Yunho

Yunho was an over excited puppy when you told him about it. "Of course I'll do it! It always looks so pretty!" You giggle at his excitement as he turns you so he can braid your hair properly. What started of excited and innocent soon turns into more when you hear Yunho groan softly behind you. You know it's just because he's frustrated because it's not as easy as he thought, but your body still reacts to it.

You shift a little to try to get more comfortable, which causes Yunho to accidentally pull on your hair a bit to get you to sit still. He's about to scold you for moving so much when he hears a soft whimper leaving your mouth.

His lips curl into a smirk as he moves quickly so he's now in front of you. You your face to look away but Yunho is having none of it. He takes your chin in between his index finger and his thump, turning your face around so you're facing him again.

"What was that now, baby girl? You like it when I pull your hair?"

You nod softly as you feel your cheeks heat up. Yunho smirks as he pushes you gently until your back hit the covers. He places his hands on either hide of your head, successfully caging you in as he hovers over you. That same smug smirk prominent on his face as he stares down at you.

"Maybe I should make use of that. Would you like that baby?"

Yeosang

"Baby, will you braid my hair for me?"

Yeosang puts his book down as he nods softly. "Yeah, I can give it a try." You move so you're sitting in between his legs as you brush your hair off of your shoulders. Yeosang gently takes your hair in his hands as he starts to practice some braids. You've asked him before and to be honest he was quite good at it, hence why you asked him again.

You relax at the feeling of his fingers combing through your hair as Yeosang braids your hair softly. Humming a song while doing so. You giggle softly as you listen to him hum a song you haven't heard in a while, but one that still is your favorite.

Once he's done he ties it with an elastic and pulls you against his chest, pressing a kiss against your temple as he wraps his arms around you.

"There you go princess. I hope you'll like it."

San

Having had his hair braided himself, San knows how nice it is to have someone run their fingers through your hair. So when you asked him to braid your hair he was all up for it. "Okay, what do you want me to do?" He asks, a bright smile plastered on his face as he eyes you curiously.

"Uhm.. I thought about this one." You say as you show him a photo of what you want. San nods excitedly as he motions for you to turn around, which you do.

San gently takes your hair in his hands as he starts to braid it. Trying his best to make it look as much as the photo as possible. San bites down on his bottom lip in concentration as he folds one strand over another.

"You're quite good at this, San." You hum, playing with your fingers as you feel San's fingers comb through your hair.

"Thank you baby. I think I'm done actually."

You jump in excitement as you run to the nearest mirror to admire his work. San giggles as he follows closely behind you. You look in the bathroom mirror as your jaw drops when you see the beautiful braids.

Your boyfriend smiles brightly as he wraps his arms around you, hugging you from behind as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

"It's beautiful San. Thank you so much. You really are the best."

Mingi

Mingi was slightly nervous when you first asked him, because let's be honest. Baby boy is a bit clumsy. He would be so scared of accidentally hurting you in the process. You noticed his hesitantion and couldn't help but giggle.

"Mingi, it's okay. Don't worry you won't hurt me."

Feeling a little more assured by your words, Mingi tries his best to braid your hair. You close your eyes as you talk to Mingi about your day. Mingi listens to you, but doesn't say much back because he's focusing on braiding your hair. You giggle when you notice he doesn't respond much and turn around once you feel him putting an elastic in your hair to secure the braid.

You climb in his lap as you wrap your arms around his neck. You lean in closer to press your lips against his. Mingi places his hand on your cheek as he pulls you closer, kissing you softly.

"Maybe I should braid your hair more often, if it means you'll kiss me like this.

Wooyoung

Wooyoung smirks at soon as you ask him, which makes you raise your eyebrows. "Why are you smirking like that?" He chuckles as he shakes his head. "Nothing, please turn around for me baby."

You does as he asks and turn around. Wooyoung's fingers comb through your hair as he pulls it back a little. He pretends to braid your hair while in reality he has other plans in mind. Wooyoung takes one of the strands and pulls on it a little harder, making you whine in response. You quickly cover your mouth with your hand as you feel your cheeks heating up.

Wooyoung smirks at your reaction as he nuzzles his nose against your neck, occasionally pressing a kiss against it as his hands leave your hair and wrap around your waist instead.

He softly caresses your skin as he pulls you closer to him until his body is pressed against yours. "I think I just discovered one of your little kinks, didn't I baby girl?"

Your eyes grow wide at his words as you snap your head around to look at him. "W-What?"

Wooyoung smirks as he pushes you down, climbing on top of you and pinning your hands next to your head. Leaning down till his lips brush against yours.

"Oh you heard me. If I had known this sooner I would have done this a long time ago."

Jongho

Jongho would be a little clueless in the beginning. Yes he's seen his fair share of braids but he has never actually braided hair before. Of course he's not one to back down from a challenge, so he agrees. As soon as he takes your hair in his hands his mind goes black. He lets out an awkward chuckle as he shakes his head softly.

"Can you show me the video again, I don't even know where to start."

You giggle softly at his words as you show him the video again, playing it at a slower speed so he can follow along. Jongho follows the instructions and soon he sees a beautiful braid appear on your head.

"I think I'm actually doing it!" He says, smiling brightly as he takes the elastic from your hand and secures the braid.

"Wow, that's actually really pretty." He smiles, turning you around so he can look at you properly.

Your smile is equally as bright as you lean in to give him a soft kiss.

"Thank you Jongho, I really appreciate it."

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cinnaminsvga · 4 years

Text

Dumbo | Jungkook (M)

→ summary: you know what they say about boys with big noses...

{or alternatively: jungkook has a big dick but he doesn’t know how to use it, but luckily you’re there to help.}

→ genre: humor/crack, smut → warnings: they talk about dicks a lot (i.e. jungkook has a big dick), DICK MEASURING CONTESTS (aka jk gets his dick appraised... just boys bein’ boys), explicit sexual content, semi-public exhibitionism, handjobs, blowjobs, sub!jungkook, whining, light dirty talk, mild pain play, mutual masturbation, jungkook has piercings, accidental edging (you’ll... understand), oc doesn’t have a gag reflex lol → words: 17.2K → a/n: @jincherie... you are my enabler and i will die on this hill only if you die on it with me. but of course i know you will die with me. because we only have one braincell and if either of us die, we both do. thank you for commissioning me to write this btw... even though i was already writing this so you just basically sent me money for free. ANYWAY... WORLD IS FUCK BUT I LOVE RHA!! ALSO JUNGKOOK HAS A BIG DICK!! EPIC!!

The club lights make it difficult for Jungkook to see anything. He doesn’t understand why club owners can’t just jack up the lighting for once; it isn’t like you’re going to be able to find a hook-up through echolocation or something. Though, judging by the way people seem to be groping their way through the masses, perhaps there really is no need for illumination anyway.

Jungkook normally hates this kind of scene. Drinking is all good and fun, especially when he’s with his hyungs, but going to overly crowded places makes his skin crawl with anxiety. It takes almost three shots during pre-game for him to get anywhere near this kind of place and it’s all thanks to Seokjin. That hyung thrives in these kinds of environments, like a clipped butterfly relearning how to fly.

“I’m gonna get shit fucked wasted!” Seokjin hollers, his arm looped carelessly around the only other person who hates being here as much as Jungkook does. He watches passively as Yoongi tries to bite a chunk off of Seokjin’s hand, but despite his inebriation, their eldest hyung is able to dodge it quickly.

“Not before I kill you, then everyone else in this place, and then myself, first.” Yoongi growls, nudging Seokjin off his smaller frame. If the world hadn’t been swaying underneath Jungkook’s feet, he might have offered to help his small hyung do the deed. If there’s anyone who hates nightclubs more than Jungkook, it’s Yoongi. Jungkook is frightened to know how Seokjin managed to convince Yoongi in the first place, and he’d prefer not to find out what sort of terrible blackmail the elder must have under his sleeve to accomplish such an arduous feat.

Just as Yoongi is about to connect his steel-toed boot up Seokjin’s freshly bleached asshole, Jimin returns from the bar with three glasses held precariously in each of his fists. Jungkook wonders yet again how this is possible due to the sheer tininess of Jimin’s hands, but then again... What can’t Jimin do when it comes to alcohol?

“I’m back! Here you go, Jungkookie,” Jimin says, seamlessly handing Jungkook a glass of what he hopes is just a regular beer like he asked. Knowing Jimin, he probably ordered the strongest shit they have. He peers at it suspiciously, but it only takes half a sip for Jungkook to confirm his guess. He grimaces, nearly coughing out a lung at the strength of the poison running down his throat.

“That tasted like fucking metal polish! What the fuck, Jimin?”

“I know! It’s great isn’t it?” Jimin smiles angelically, handing Yoongi one of the drinks. Yoongi looks at the swirling piss-yellow liquid as if it holds the secrets to the universe. It appears as if he’s decided something when his eyes light up.

“Oh my god, this drink is gonna kill me,” he says, not an ounce of fear in his voice. Jimin nods, not even trying to hide his deception.

“I promised the bartender a blowie if he could give me the strongest shit they had,” Jimin shrugs. “Dude literally went to the back room and took out this bottle that looked like it came from Napoleon’s secret stash of hooker piss.” He sniffs the drinks thoughtfully. “Yea, I could believe that.”

“I hate this!” Jungkook cries at no one in particular.

“Tough shit! We’re in this together!” Yoongi groans, downing the entire contents of his drink in one go before promptly being swallowed whole by the crowd. Seokjin hoots, hastily waving goodbye to Jungkook and Jimin before following Yoongi and diving into the sweaty masses like a seasoned Olympian.

“I hope they don’t die like last time,” Jungkook sighs, forcing himself to take a big gulp of his drink. It sears against his throat like a brand, which probably has an inscription saying “Jeon Jungkook has bad taste in friends.”

Jimin shrugs his shoulders. “Well, like Namjoon said a while ago, we’re gonna meet by the bar in 2 hours to check if everyone is still alive and we’ll find out then. Okay, Kook?”

Jimin has reminded him of this for the umpteenth time, though he can’t blame him for being extra careful. Last time the whole gang went to the club, Hoseok had gotten stuck in an elevator at his hook-up’s place and had cried for 5 hours straight before one of them thought to look for him. The time before that, Taehyung had ingested two times his bodyweight of margaritas and he had found himself in Japan the next morning with an extra $500 in his pocket.

Yeah. They’re idiots, but at least they’re idiots who will try not to make the same mistakes as last time. Key word being “try.”

Jungkook looks around the club, but he can’t find any awkward looking lanky people anywhere. “Where is Namjoon-hyung, by the way? Haven’t seen him since we split up.”

“Who the hell knows?” Jimin laughs, the sound drowning out when the DJ suddenly decides to play a death metal version of Dance the Night Away by Twice. Jimin’s eyes light up. “Ooooh shit! This is my song! See ya later, Kook!”

“W-wait, those drinks! Aren’t they for the others––“

“Bitch, you think these are for them?” Jimin begins to double fist his alcohol with the thirstiness of a man in a desert, or a twink confronted with two dicks. Either or.

To Jungkook’s horror, the crowd has seemingly grown thrice in size since they’ve arrived and he watches as Jimin’s body is slowly getting consumed by the masses, though he doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. He leans into a random guy's back, a look of bliss on his face. He salutes lazily at Jungkook. “Anyway. See you in 2 hours, Kook! Try to have fun!”

Try to have fun, his ass.

Unlike Jimin, Jungkook doesn’t particularly feel like being crushed by sweaty hormonal bodies; instead, he chooses to head to the bar. He surreptitiously dumps his drink into the trash, feeling kind of bad for discarding a free drink, but Jungkook doesn’t want to get shit-fucked wasted like the rest of them are. Perhaps he’ll be the designated driver today, even though his vision is still kind of swimming. Well, he could probably walk in a straight line if he used all his brainpower. Which isn’t a lot, but you know. People learn to make do.

It takes him a while to find an empty stool by the bar and he is unlucky enough to be squished between two couples who don’t seem to be aware that public indecency is a crime. He has to endure being jostled for five minutes straight until the bartender finally notices him and allow him to order his can of coke.

(“Sorry, kid. The banana milk is all sold out. Some girl ordered our entire stock for her friends a few hours ago.” And just like that, Jungkook wants to die all over again.)

He does not know for how long he sits by the bar. Well, that’s a blatant lie, because he knows that he’s been sitting there for 18 minutes and 34 seconds exactly. He’s checked his phone religiously every 2 minutes to see if 2 hours have passed already, just so he can ask one of his stupid friends to go home with him. Perhaps he could coerce Jimin into turning in early for once (which is a pipedream, not when the DJ seems adamant to play Jimin’s favorite Christina Aguilera song 70 times in a row.)

So in short, Jungkook is miserable. He could go home by himself, but also he doesn’t want to end up having to walk to the police station the next morning to bail his friends out after one of them inevitably destroys public property again.

Fuck. Maybe he shouldn’t have thrown away his other drink.

He’s so deep in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice that one of the couples beside him have already left and that another person has taken their spot. He is jarred from his musings when a well-manicured hand is placed delicately on his shoulder, urging him to swivel the barstool around to face his soon-to-be acquaintance.

“Hey,” you say, a sultry smile on your lips. Jungkook feels his mouth immediately fill with cotton as he stares at your beautiful face, the dingy lighting of the club doing nothing to suppress the wicked glint in your eyes.

“Uhh… hey?” Jungkook replies, as charming and verbose as ever. If it isn’t obvious enough, Jungkook is a little lacking in the girls department, or at least, when it comes to girls-who-are-blatantly-flirting with him department. He normally isn’t this socially inept around the opposite gender, but given the connotations of this circumstance, his overactive male brain can only be restrained so much before it starts wandering towards dangerous territory.

It doesn’t help that the neckline of your dress is bordering on obscene, and Jungkook is afraid that if you move one more inch towards him, something very embarrassing might happen to the both of you (probably more so for him, if he’s being quite honest.)

“I couldn’t help but notice you from across the club and thought I should introduce myself,” you explain, gaze unashamedly trailing down his body. Jungkook can feel the heat from you radiating in waves, burning him from the inside out as he tries not to melt into a puddle in a pathetic attempt to get the fuck out of there.

“You saw me? But it’s… so dark in here…” Jungkook wants to fucking murder himself. That’s what he decides to say to you? God, no fucking wonder he’s a virgin. Good looks really aren’t everything when he doesn’t have a brain controlling the rest of his body. There might as well be a fucking hamster running laps inside of his skull for all he knew.

Thankfully (or unthankfully––God knows Jungkook’s stress levels aren’t lowering any time soon), you find his response funny enough to warrant a chuckle. You bat your eyes salaciously at him, which Jungkook didn’t even think was possible. People can be sexy? When they blink? Apparently, you can do that.

You shrug your shoulders. “That’s true. You caught me in a lie, I suppose. I actually knew you were coming even before you arrived.”

Jungkook chokes on his own spit then, nearly spraying you with his saliva like the dog that he is. His eyes bug out of his sockets, his body going tense with nerves. "You... you knew? What... What does that even mean?"

You point over your shoulder, gesturing vaguely at the crowd on the dance floor. "I'm friends with Seokjin over there. He mentioned you were coming with him to the club tonight so I decided to tag along."

"You know Seokjin-hyung?" The alarm bells in Jungkook's head start ringing wildly out of control. Nothing good ever comes out of being friends with Seokjin, especially since his presence alone has the power to make the creases in your brain to smoothen. Take it from someone who's been there, done that.

"Yep," you say, popping your 'p.' "I met him in my first-year English course, though I still don't know why a third-year like him was taking it in the first place."

"It's because he doesn't know how to read," Jungkook says plainly.

"I can tell. He uses voice-to-text exclusively and Siri can never spell Asian names correctly," you shrug your shoulders. "Either that, or he just doesn't know how to spell your name."

"Yea. I'm permanently John Jung Cock on his phone," Jungkook replies. He shakes his head. "Hold on, we were talking about something before this."

"Oh. About how I casually revealed to you that I was stalking you through our mutually insane friend?"

"Y-Yea, basically." Jungkook doesn't even understand what the fuck is happening right now. "I mean! Not exactly? Like, for all I know, you could've just asked hyung who he was coming with and he mentioned my name and––"

"Listen, kid. I straight up just told you I'm stalking you. Let's skip the foreplay and get to the meat of it: I'm literally following you," you say, without an inch of regret, embarrassment, or morality in your tone of voice.

Jungkook, who despite being filled with so much fear and tension enough to kill the small hamster inside his brain, is somehow able to keep his calm in front of the psychopath in front of him. Either that, or he's already in the middle of a stroke and he's lost all his fine motor skills.

"I... I don't know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything, baby," you murmur, leaning even closer to him until your chest was practically pressed against his. The thin layer of your dress and his well-worn cotton tee does nothing to help the situation (both in general and the one in his pants). He can feel your every curve, can smell the sweet perfume you're wearing; you were enveloping his senses. If he tried hard enough, he could probably count your eyelashes if he so desired with how close you were.

He knows he should probably be running away in terror right now, but he finds himself stuck resolutely to the barstool, unable to move. Maybe Jimin was right... Maybe he did have a fear kink or something.

("Isn't that just called masochism?" Jungkook asks, brows raised.

Jimin only laughs, patting him on the back condescendingly. "Nah, dude. You just straight up wanna die by the hands of a hot person, and I can respect that homie. We all have been there.")

“W-what do you want from me?” Jungkook asks, sweat lining his brow. You’re still looking at him like he was a meal, but he finds he probably doesn’t mind being devoured by you.

Your wicked grin returns, full force. “I just want to play, Jungkook. But why don’t we discuss this… somewhere more private?”

Thunk. Was that the sound of his heart dropping out of his ass, or his brain pressing against the left side of his skull, or his dick hitting the roof? Jungkook isn’t sure, but he does know he wants to see where this night will take him.

He lets you lead the way, squeezing through sweaty bodies and elbowing a stray hand or two. Jungkook swears he feels a guy grope him on the way out, but before he can even sock the guy in the jaw, you’re already one step ahead of him. You hiss menacingly at the dudebro, raising your long acrylic nails in a show of dominance like you’re from some wildlife documentary. The guy audibly whines, running away from the two of you with his tail between his legs.

Jungkook stares at you incredulously. “How the fuck did you––”

“I’ve gone to tango classes with that dude. I have his mom’s phone number,” you explain nonchalantly. Instantly, Jungkook feels himself hardening in his pants.

You manage to get to where the washroom stalls are. You brazenly walk past the line of girls at the women’s section, but Jungkook is even more confused when you also pass by the men’s section. You turn the corner, where a bunch of tables and chairs were being kept. Then, you begin to knock down some of the extra chairs stacked against the wall, which is where Jungkook discovers there is an unused wheelchair accessible washroom.

“Why is this washroom being kept hidden?” he wonders aloud, sneaking guilty looks over his shoulder. No one seems to have noticed that the two of you are blatantly trespassing property, but you don’t look all that stressed about it.

You look at him weirdly. “Dude. You can barely walk in this club without getting groped, poked, or doped. As much as I’m all for accessibility, I don’t think wheelchair-bound people are gonna have much of a good time here.”

Jungkook feels as though he should be saying something profound about the need for establishments to be accessible or something, but the strain in his pants really wasn’t doing many wonders on his verbosity right now. Maybe next time.

You make quick work of the barricade and you get the door open in no time. You push him hastily inside, making him yelp as he tries to find his way around the darkened room. You flip the switch on somewhere behind him, illuminating the washroom to find… a toilet. That’s it.

“Well, they certainly didn’t think about interior decorating,” Jungkook says, laughing nervously as you click the door locked. He turns, watching as you pull the black elastic that was on your wrist and begin to tie your hair. You smile cheekily at him, the implications of what is about to happen very much apparent.

“Nah, they didn’t. But the room gets the job done and that’s all we want, don’t we?” You purr, taking the two short steps you need to get close to him once more. You trail a well-manicured nail down his chest, circling around his nipple teasingly but not doing anything more. His breathing turns more shallow, and he knows for sure that his eyes must look crazed to you right now.

You bring your finger lower and lower, grazing the top of his belt buckle and staying there. You look up at him, licking your lips as your gaze trails down to his own. Once again, he feels paralyzed as you take him in and he wishes for all the horny gods from above that you would finally end the torture and finally close the distance.

Taking some pity on him, you rest your lips against his throat, suckling gently enough that Jungkook knows it won’t leave a mark. His hands instantly come up to grab your waist, as if urging you to go harder, to make it hurt.

You smirk against his skin, deciding at that moment to bite down, hard. Jungkook yelps, before the sound morphs into an unabashed moan. His cheeks pinken, embarrassed at the volume of his voice.

“I-I…”

“Don’t worry, Jungkook…” you whisper, soothing the bite with your tongue. You pop off his skin, your lips slightly redder than before. “I’ll take good care of you, darling.”

See, Jungkook doesn’t doubt you in the slightest. As for his own skills at taking care of you when the time comes… now that’s a little bit of a gamble.

Jungkook isn’t a virgin, per se… He lost his virginity during his last year of high school to some girl he met at a party, and suffice to say, he didn’t last long. He’s had a few girlfriends in the past, but none of them ever wanted to get with him once they saw his dick. You see, he had a bit of a problem…

He wasn’t small, by the way. Don’t get him wrong. In fact, he was kinda––

Jungkook is pulled away from his thoughts when you suddenly drop down to your knees, your hands grabbing onto his thighs for support. He’s almost worried that you’d injured yourself from how fast you’d dropped, but you don’t seem all that bothered by how deftly your fingers moved to unbuckle his belt.

When you get it loosened, your hands stop by the button of his jeans and you look up at him with expectation. Jungkook almost whines when your hands drift back to your lap.

You snort, amused. “What? You think I’m gonna do all the work here, buddy? Come on, strip for me.” you say, sitting on your haunches as you wait for him to move.

The strain in his pants was getting downright painful at this point, so Jungkook is more than eager to follow your orders. Still, his hands are shaking the entire time, so it takes him a few extra seconds before he can finally unbutton his stupid jeans and pull down his stupid zipper. Even through his loose boxers, the outline of his dick is very apparent, with a small wet spot already staining the front of his boxers a darker blue.

“Uh, I have to say a disclaimer first though,” Jungkook squeaks, suddenly shy under the intense gaze you were pointing straight at his dick. It twitches slightly, and your eyes follow it like a cat ready to pounce. “I’m… kinda on the bigger side, so I just want to ask if you’re sure––”

“Baby, I was sure even before I came to this club,” you say, trance-like. Your fists clench and unclench by your sides. “Now, shut up before I change my mind.”

“But––” Jungkook doesn’t get to finish his sentence, stunned to silence when you quite literally rip his boxers off of him like a magician trying to prove something. His dick springs up half-way, still not fully hard as it’s always taken him a little bit more goading before he can get to full mast. Yea, he was that big.

You stare at it for a moment, going cross-eyed as you stared at his tip head-on like some sort of perverse gun barrel. You don’t move for so long that Jungkook is afraid that he might have freaked you out with the size of his cock, though you wouldn’t be the first in a long shot. He’s about to apologize, prepared to pull up his pants in shame and walk home with half a log in his crotch. He’s already shifting his jeans back up when you place a hand on his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

“Wait. Are you, like, only half-hard right now?” you ask, voice quiet.

Jungkook flushes. “Y-yeah… It gets a little bit bigger when I’m fully… You know…” he says, trailing off.

You’re still looking at his dick, but after further assessment, Jungkook realizes that you don’t look horrified in the slightest. In fact, you look pleased. “Jesus fuck you’re huge! Like… almost abnormally so.”

Jungkook literally feels like he’s going to die (and he hates that it’s kinda making him even hornier). “I guess so?”

“That’s a fucking log! You could stand on that thing!”

“I don’t think that’s possible, but––”

“Seokjin had told me you were huge, but I didn’t believe him because, well, the way he described it was that you had a literal third leg hiding under there. Who would have thought that Seokjin isn’t full of shit after all,” you say, awestruck.

“I’m really not that big––wait, Seokjin has talked to you about my dick? What the fuck? Since WHEN?” Seokjin was just out there in the world? Telling strangers about his dick? That hyung is seriously getting smashed WWE style the next time he sees him, and it’s NOT going to be sexy.

You wave him off. “Oh, don’t worry. He doesn’t just tell anyone. He let it slip because he was defending your honor,” you shrug.

In the midst of Jungkook’s mental breakdown at the realization that one of his closest friends just told a random girl that he’s got a meter long King Kong dong, he doesn’t notice that you’ve already stood up from where you were kneeling. You pull down the toilet seat cover, seating yourself on it and rubbing your reddened knees with a pout. “Ouch. Damn, I’m not used to kneeling for men anymore. Sorry, where was I? Oh right!”

You snap your fingers together, smiling gleefully at Jungkook. “So! I dragged you in here to give you my proposition, you see. I have a deal to make with you.”

Jungkook looks down at his cock, which was still red and dripping pre-cum, before turning back to you. “And this has something to do with… my dick?”

“Precisely!” you cheer, glad that he seems to be on the same page as you when he was in fact, not. “Sorry about tricking you, by the way. I’ll suck your dick after this if you’re still game, but only if you agree with my plan.”

“Your plan?”

“Yep,” you say, popping your ‘p’ once more. “You see, I have an ex-boyfriend. His name is Lee Taeyong, ever heard of him?”

Jungkook vaguely knows the upperclassman, though he can’t say he’s ever spoken to him. “Kinda. What does he have to do with me?”

“Well, if you really heard of him, then you’d already be one step ahead. Seeing as how it’s not already connecting for you––” you point to his dick, poking the sensitive head with the grace of a 5-year old at a petting zoo, “––then you don’t know that Lee Taeyong has the biggest dick on campus. Allegedly.”

“Allegedly,” Jungkook repeats. He still doesn’t follow.

“Well, I wouldn’t know either because I’ve never seen his dick, so––”

“Wait wait wait. Wait.” Jungkook’s hamster brain is running a mile a minute. There have been way too many absurdities spoken in the last five minutes and he doesn’t think he’s drunk enough to deal with your insanity right now. “Let’s dissect this one at a time, shall we? First of all, how can you not know how big your boyfriend’s dick is?”

“My ex-boyfriend. And we only dated for like three days, and I don’t fuck until a week has passed, okay? I don’t play like that,” you say as if you didn’t just lure Jungkook to this dingy washroom only to give him blue balls and trauma.

“Okay, whatever. So what if he has a big dick? What does that have to do with me?”

You roll your eyes. “How can you not understand yet? I’m on the hunt for our university’s biggest dick, of course! And you, Jungkook, might just be my ticket to the number one prize.”

There is a long pause. Jungkook stares and stares at you, waiting for you to shout “Surprise! You’re being pranked, bro!” and for all the cameramen to come out and shower him in confetti and dollar bills or something. But no, nothing like that happened. He just continues to stand there with his dick out, while you sit on a dingy toilet seat with your legs crossed comfortably as if you were just two friends having a regular conversation.

After a while, Jungkook comes to a conclusion. “You’re being serious.”

You snort, annoyed as if you were the one being inconvenienced. “Of course I am, dude. I don’t stalk just about anybody to see their dick. I’m not that insane.”

Jungkook feels as though your judgment on sanity should probably be taken with a grain of salt. “S-sure. Right. You’re definitely not insane.”

“And you have a big dick! I’m glad you can see where I’m coming from,” you say, nodding sagely. You peer at his dick once more, brows furrowed as you think deeply to yourself. “Hmm… Yea, I’d say you’d be at least equally as big as him. If all else fails, I can split the winnings and get half the amount of money if you––”

“No,” Jungkook says.

You raise your brow. “Yes?” you try.

“Yes–I mean, what? No!” Jungkook repeats, shaking his head furiously. "Are you even hearing yourself? You expect me to get into a dick measuring contest with your ex just so you can, what? Get revenge on him or something?"

"Not for revenge." You lean closer to him, face inches away from his dick but you don't seem perturbed in the slightest. "It's for money," you whisper, grinning slyly.

"Money," Jungkook repeats.

You clap your hands excitedly. "Exactly! So Taeyong and I didn't actually break up on bad terms. We only got together to make Doyoung, his crush, jealous enough to confess his feelings. But now, that dumb bitch thinks that now that he's with Taeyong, he can make fun of me for not being able to handle Taeyong's dark horse cock––"

"Can you please stop talking like an insane person," Jungkook pleads. His comment remains unheard.

"––so we made a bet that Taeyong doesn't actually have the biggest dick on campus and that I'm dating a guy with an even bigger meat thermometer than he does," you finish, snapping your fingers with a flourish. There's a twinkle in your eye: it's misplaced excitement coupled with extreme insanity, Jungkook realizes.

"That's good and all, but there's just one problem."

"What?" You tilt your head, confused.

"We're not exactly dating, are we?"

"Details, details... What Doyoung and Taeyong don't know won't hurt them," you say, shrugging your shoulders.

Jungkook rolls his eyes. "Of course," he says, leaning against the grimy bathroom wall. He goes to tuck Jungkook Jr. back into his pants, his dick finally softening after the last ten minutes of psychological torture courtesy of yours truly, but you're quick to slap his hand away, making him yelp in surprise.

"No! I like looking at it," you say. You stare at his dick with rapt fascination. "It's kinda like looking at a weird, deformed baby leg. Beautiful, but haunting all at once."

Jungkook huffs, staring at you in equal parts disbelief and awe. If he thought Seokjin was mentally unhinged, then you're definitely on your way towards uncharted psychotic territory. It was kind of amazing how you could just say shit without any brain to mouth filter, in your own twisted way. "Listen, lady. I don't even fucking know what your name is, but I am not helping you win some stupid bet and showing my dick to even more strangers than I have to, okay?"

You consider him, lips pursing slightly. "Why, do you have any other plans this weekend?"

Jungkook falters. "I... No, I don't––"

You shrug your shoulders, as if that's the end of that problem. "Then it's settled! I don't see why you can't just do this out of the goodness of your heart?"

"For the last time, I won't do it even if––"

"I'll split the prize with you? 50/50? That's $1000 for having a huge dick! Every incel's wet dream!"

Jungkook pauses in his rant, choking on his spit. His jaw drops comically, unsure if he heard you right. "Did you say one... grand?"

Hook, line, and sinker. You know you caught him the moment his eyes bugged out of their sockets. You smirk, crossing your arms triumphantly as you gaze upon his desperate and broke college ass (and dick). “So? Having second thoughts?"

Jungkook is quiet for a moment. He opens his mouth, then closes it. He tries to wrap his head around the number, unsure if he should be worried about how ready he is to drop his pants for money. Have I completely lost it? Am I that much of an idiot? he wonders, but then again… He’d be an even bigger idiot for letting free money go down the drain.

“Where is this money even coming from?” he asks, even though he knows his guard is already dropping quickly.

You wave your hand flippantly. “Oh, Doyoung is filthy rich. I imagine that $2000 is nothing to him,” you say, picking at a hangnail. “It’s not much money to me either, but my pride is mostly at stake here. If you want, you could take all the money as a prize, so long as you make that bitch eat his heart out.”

Jungkook feels his dick twitch and he knows that you notice. “Two… thousand…” He accidentally moans, gripping his thighs to prevent himself from nutting. “That’s…”

You tilt your head, arching a brow. “Not enough? I could put in an extra $500 if you’re really against this whole thing. To be fair, I wouldn’t wanna expose my coochie to a random person either––”

“Two thousand five hundred? Are you fucking insane?” Jungkook exclaims, voice cracking at the end. He clears his throat, but it still feels like his lungs are on fire.

“Okay, three grand it is but I’m not going any higher than that,” you huff, shaking your head. “Mr. Jeon, you really do drive a hard bargain, though I always notice that well-endowed men tend to think they deserve the universe, so I’m not surprised.” You chuckle to yourself, as if anything about this situation is worth laughing at. Jungkook feels like that one time he had inhaled an entire helium balloon in one breath when he was younger: kinda nauseous but also kinda euphoric. Is it bad that his dick is stirring awake right now? Hello?

You put your hand out, looking at him expectantly. “Well? Do we have a deal or not?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath and accesses his options carefully. Does he:

Give up his low self-esteem for money and enter an actual dick-measuring contest with some stranger;

There is no other option. Jungkook wants money.

He exhales, a migraine already throbbing incessantly in the back of his skull. He thrusts his hand forward, gripping yours harshly in a firm handshake. “I’m in,” he says, without missing a beat. Your smile brings a shiver down his back, and he can’t help but wonder if this is what Judas felt like when he betrayed Jesus, except he’s betraying no one but his own self-worth.

Well, he always did wonder how much his life was worth and three grand doesn’t seem like that big of a stretch. Oh well.

“Nice,” you chuckle, seemingly vibrating from excitement. You slip behind him, grabbing his phone from the back pocket of his jeans (which were still, by the way, pooled around his thighs because his dick was still out. Just to remind you guys in case you forgot. OP doesn’t want you to ever forget about it.) You flick open his phone, cackling maniacally when you realize he doesn’t even have a password on.

Jungkook squawks. “Hey, what are you––”

“I’m saving my number on your phone,” you explain. He can barely see what you were typing into his phone contacts, but he doesn’t miss the way you attach a heart emoji beside your name. You open his texts, sending yourself an octopus emoji that just so happened to be Jungkook’s most frequently used emoji. You snort. “Octopus emoji, huh? Seems appropriate… Can’t help but think it was a sign that this might have been destiny.”

“I just like takoyaki…” Jungkook defends himself sulkily.

“Yea? Well I like cock,” you say. You pause, furrowing your brows. “Oh, I meant to say chicken. Same thing.”

You hand back his phone, grabbing your small purse that you had thrown aside onto the washroom floor. You straighten your dress, looking to all the world as if you hadn’t just offered a stranger three grand to show his dick. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Jungkook. I expect to see you soon, maybe this weekend if you’re free. I’ll text you the details of when we’ll meet next. Toodles!” you wave, sending him a flying kiss for extra measure. Jungkook’s eye twitches, and he wonders not for the first time tonight if he was trapped in a coma and was slowly passing away.

Just as you are about to head out the door, you stop in your tracks, turning back to face him. You give him a curious expression, gaze dragging downwards until you were staring down the barrel of his dick once more. “Hey, sorry about leaving you hanging like that, by the way. I would love to help you finish, but I have a ride to catch. Raincheck?”

Not waiting for an answer, you saunter away with a spring in your step. The door swings back closed, leaving Jungkook alone for the first time in what feels like forever: just him, his dick, and the promise of three thousand dollars on the horizon.

“I’m so fucking stupid,” Jungkook groans, sliding down to the floor. He fists his cock in his hand, groaning loudly when he feels the pleasure jolt up his spine like electricity. As he listens to the sounds of his heavy breathing and the slick mess in his hands, he can’t help but wonder if Jimin was right… Maybe he did have a thing for insane hot girls who were out to kill him.

x x x x x

After Jungkook cleans himself up, he marches out of the washroom with as much dignity as he can muster. Which is to say that he walked out of there with his head bowed in shame, meekly navigating the crowded club in search of his friends.

It isn’t hard, considering that Jimin was currently hanging on the fucking ceiling from a disco ball. A group of men stand at the bottom, all of them eagerly eyeing his fat ass as Jimin dangerously humped the shiny ball of metal like his life depended on it.

“Okaaaay guys! The moment this disco ball drops, whoever catches me first gets to fuck me tonight so try your best to grab me~!” Jimin singsongs from his perch, howling madly as all the horny motherfuckers scramble all over each other, desperate to catch him lest he meets his maker.

“I. Hate. My. Life.” Jungkook sighs, striding past the group of men easily with his superior upper body strength. “Move, incels. This twink isn’t letting any of you simps touch his ass. He just likes the attention.”

“Aww, Jungkookie! Don’t ruin my fun~! Unless you wanna catch me and we can finally fu––” Jimin screams mid-sentence, just as the cord holding him and the disco ball snaps. All the guys step over themselves to catch him, but Jungkook is stronger and faster. He catches Jimin mid-air, snatching him in an instant and hoisting him over his shoulder. Everyone cheers and hollers, clapping for him as Jimin continues to giggle hysterically into his back.

“Yay! Jungkookie is gonna fuck meeeee,” Jimin pats him on the ass, but Jungkook ignores him. He goes around the club, searching for the rest of his friends until he has five dangling bodies hanging off his body like some six-headed freak.

Well, it’s soon going to be five-headed after he beheads Seokjin, whom Jungkook is certain just vomited all over the back of his jeans.

“I can’t fucking find Yoongi-hyung.” Jungkook grits his teeth, his nose assaulted by the stench of Namjoon’s armpit as the elder contorts himself into a more comfortable position. “Stop fucking moving, you long-legged bastard. Why’d you have to be born with such good body proportions?”

“And why are you so hot, Jungkook?” Taehyung swoons from somewhere underneath Hoseok, who seems to be either passed out or dead; Jungkook didn’t pause to check for a pulse.

“Pretty sure Yoongi went home,” Seokjin slurs, a second wave of nausea hitting him as he struggles to keep the alcohol inside of him a bit longer. “Ugh… Said he saw his roommate and they went home together.”

“God, it better be his fucking roommate and not another person trying to sell his organs again.” Jungkook sighs. “Either way, we’re all going home. We’ve done enough damage for tonight.”

“Jungkookie, did you have any fun at all tonight? Didn’t see you around,” Namjoon quips, managing to wriggle out of Jungkook’s grip and fall face flat on the curb. He whines pathetically, not making a move to stand up again. “Ugh. I didn’t even drink a lot tonight so why...?”

“It’s because you’re Namjoon,” Jungkook supplies helpfully. He lets the rest of his friends down, making sure they are leaning against the wall for support (or sitting against the wall in Hoseok’s case). “Alright, I’m calling cabs. Seokjin-hyung, I’m staying over at your place tonight.”

Jimin, who was already slowly falling asleep where he stands, perks up in attention at that. “Wait, you’re coming home with me and Seokjin? Are we reaaaally gonna fuck?” Jimin tries to wiggle his eyebrows suggestively, but to Jungkook, it just looks like he’s having a stroke.

“I’m done nutting for tonight. We are sleeping once we get home and that’s it,” Jungkook snorts, crossing his arms.

“OOOOOOOH? JUNGKOOK GOT FUCKED AT THE CLUB!”

“GET IT BOY!”

“OH SHIT HE FINALLY USED HIS PURPLE-HEADED YOGURT FINGER!”

“DAMN DUDE? DAMN? DAMN?”

“AW, YOU FUCKED SOMEONE WITHOUT ME?”

Jungkook swears he had heard Hoseok speak amidst the yelling from his friends, but his hyung still remains mysteriously hunched over and dead to the world. “None of your businesses. Anyway, a cab is coming soon and I swear to God, if any of you piss or vomit in that poor man’s vehicle, I will make sure none of you live to see the light of day, okay?”

Jimin turns to Taehyung, who just happened to be beside him. “Not gonna lie, but I kinda jizzed in my pants just now. That was kinda hot.” Taehyung only nods in agreement.

An hour and thirty minutes later, Jungkook manages to get the last of his idiot friends home, leaving only him, Seokjin, and Jimin as they tiredly trudge up the steps to the apartment. It takes an additional twenty minutes for Seokjin to figure out where he’d left his keys, only for Jimin to raise his finger for them to wait as he hid behind some bushes while unbuckling his jeans. When he comes out of the bushes, pantless, he has a key raised with a victorious smirk on his face.

“Don’t ask where I keep this,” is all he says and Jungkook is glad that he had rejected Seokjin’s offer to permanently move in as their roommate.

They all stumble into the apartment, with Seokjin falling immediately onto the couch. He curls up into a little ball, snoring the moment his eyes shut. Jungkook wants to shake him awake, eager to interrogate him about what happened between you and him just a few hours ago at the club. Even if he wanted to wake him up, Jungkook is sure nothing can rouse the elder; this fact is confirmed when Jungkook dumps water on him, only for Seokjin to keep sleeping soundly like a baby.

“Well, hyung is dead. Guess it’s time for me to die too,” Jimin says sleepily, the horniness and insanity from the club already wearing off. He pats Jungkook gently on the head, pointing towards Seokjin’s room. “Sleep there. I’ll hand you an extra blanket because I wouldn’t trust that hyung’s sheets. Let’s sleep, yeah?”

Left with no other choice, Jungkook heads to Seokjin’s bedroom, jumping onto the unmade sheets and pretending not to notice the crusty unknown substance on the corner of the bed. He can’t fall asleep, not when he’s left haunted by the weight on his chest (and dick). Jungkook fiddles with his phone, staring wide-eyed at the name displayed tauntingly on his screen.

Y/N L/N.

He was gonna have a nightmare tonight, that’s for sure.

x x x x x

Jungkook wakes up early, much to his chagrin. He’d really like to stay dead to the world for much longer, but the smell of coffee brewing and bacon cooking is kind of a hard deal to pass up. Jungkook shifts in bed, cringing when he realizes he went to sleep in his jeans, and more importantly, that his pants felt a lot stickier than he remembered.

He lifts the blanket up, confirming his suspicions. “Fuck!”

Well, guess he didn’t have much of a nightmare last night after all.

He shucks off his clothes, disgusted by the mess he finds in his underwear. He hobbles over to Seokjin’s closet, cringing when he finds only one (1) clean pair of shorts left, which just so happened to have “PEE IS STORED IN THE BALLS” stamped on the back in cursive font. Beggars can’t be choosers, he supposes.

Jungkook tiptoes out of the bedroom, confronted with the sight of Jimin pouring three mugs of coffee and Seokjin still slumped over the couch, a substantial amount of drool dripping down from the side of his mouth and forming a puddle on the floor. Jungkook takes a photo, saving it for later.

“Morning,” Jimin smiles from the kitchen, offering Jungkook one of the cups. Jungkook is certain that Jimin has no recollection of the events from last night, though such is Park Jimin’s way of life. He drinks to get fucked up, then he forgets, and then the cycle repeats itself anew. Jungkook wonders how Jimin always manages to wake up without a hangover, though God might have just given him a super liver in compensation for his lack of height.

“Hyung is still dead,” Jungkook states plainly, walking over to Seokjin and peering at him closely. Jungkook sticks a finger into his agape mouth, collects some of his spit, and then proceeds to give him the wettest willy of his life. Still no response.

“Let me try,” Jimin says, sauntering over to Seokjin with one of the cups of coffee. Jimin leans down, hums gently into his ear. “Hyung, wake up. We have coffee for you!”

Seokjin mumbles incomprehensibly in his sleep, snuggling deeper into the couch stuffing. Jimin tilts his head, still smiling. Then, he dumps the scalding cup of coffee all over Seokjin’s crotch.

In an instant, Seokjin screams with the pitch of a banshee, swinging his arms wildly about and nearly knocking himself out with his own fist. Jungkook and Jimin watch passively from the sidelines, waiting for the elder to finish fanning his nutsack before greeting him a pleasant morning.

“WHY ARE YOU BOTH LITERAL DEMONS?” Seokjin hollers, jumping to his feet with his scorched balls and all. Taking pity on him, Jungkook walks over to the fridge, tossing his hyung a bag of ice. And by toss, it’s more like he pitches the bag straight into his dick with the ease and speed of a seasoned baseball player, eliciting another round of pained howls.

“YOU––ASS––” Seokjin seethes, clutching the bag of ice to his nether regions. He sits down on the adjacent loveseat, expression contorting as he cups his balls gingerly. “God, it’s almost like you guys don’t think I deserve basic human decency.”

“That was just a small part of my revenge for you, after you gave my contact details to an insane woman,” Jungkook sneers, miming a punch onto Seokjin’s handsome face. Seokjin doesn’t even flinch, too busy staring at Jungkook’s legs.

“Hey, are you wearing my thot shorts?”

Jungkook looks down at the neon pink monstrosity around his hips. “You call these your thot shorts?”

Seokjin shrugs. “I got dicked down in them once. You should try.”

“Oh, did I hear something about revenge? I smell tea in here,” Jimin says, coming back from the kitchen with his own cup. “Well, I have coffee but same shit. What happened?”

“This––” Jungkook points an accusatory finger at Seokjin, “––asshole sent my location information to an insane stalker lady last night after he told her that I had a huge dick!”

Seokjin squints at him, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about Y/N! She said you told her about how big my dick was and when she asked you where I was, you told her I was going to the club with you last night!”

“Oh.” Realization dawns on Seokjin’s face, which was quickly replaced by incredulity as he stares at Jungkook. “I assumed she asked for your contact details because she had a crush on you. I was just trying to get you some pussy, bro.”

“Yeah, Kook. Not gonna lie, but I’d be dicking down girls left and right if I had a dick as big as yours,” Jimin says, eyeing the bulge in his teeny tiny shorts with interest. “In fact, I’d probably be a top if I had a dick as big as yours.”

Seokjin laughs, nearly shooting out phlegm from the strength of it. “Oh god, don’t tell me. You couldn’t get your dick hard again? Don’t worry bro, if I had a dick as big as yours, it’d take ages for it to fill up too.”

Jungkook flushes, stomping his foot in embarrassment. “That! Wasn’t the problem! The problem is––”

“––that Jungkook nuts too quickly because he doesn’t have any practice,” Jimin tuts sadly, patting the younger with a pitiful expression. “Don’t worry, Kook. Hyung is open to giving you some pointers.”

“That’s not it either!” Jungkook screams, groaning in annoyance. “She came up to me because she offered to pay me $3000 to enter a dick-measuring contest!”

Jimin and Seokjin tilt their heads in tandem, still not getting it. “So?” they both chorus, giving him a blank-eyed stare.

“Are you guys out of your mind? I got bribed into showing my dick to some strangers like some kind of weird prostitute!”

“It’s not prostitution if you’re not engaging in sexual activity,” Jimin muses, taking a long sip from his coffee. He shrugs his shoulders. “Honestly, I don’t see how this is a problem. You show some girls your dick, and you get money. Dudes would kill to be in your position.”

“Oh my God, don’t tell me,” Seokjin leers at Jungkook, and the younger almost can’t stop himself from landing another blow against the elder’s abused crotch. “You got roped into some bukkake orgy and now you’re asking your hyungs to help you? Don’t worry, Jungoo… You came to the right people. You see, Jimin and I have some experience with––”

“LALALA I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” Jungkook jams his fingers into his own ears, screaming hysterically to drown out the sounds of Seokjin and Jimin’s combined laughter. Jungkook pouts at them, glowering pathetically. “Seriously, hyungs! Do you not see how fucked up this is? Who follows a stranger to a club, pretends they’re going to give you a blowjob, only to offer 3K for you to show some strangers your dick?”

“A regular Friday night if you ask me,” Jimin says, shrugging once more. Jungkook stares at him, realizing that maybe it was the wrong idea being friends with these two lunatics in the first place. Knowing Jimin, he’d probably been in much more lewd and compromising situations than Jungkook will ever have. Rumor has it that Jimin had once done a keg stand while having his dick sucked while on vacation in Japan.

“Well, if you were really against it, then you could have just said no?” Seokjin points out, wagging a finger at him. “I know Y/N, and yeah she’s kind of demented, but she still knows that no means no. Surely, you haven’t considered the fact that you are 1) a pushover and 2) horny for her?”

“Well, yea––No, what––No!” Jungkook splutters, stammering wildly. His two hyungs grin salaciously, gazing at him knowingly. Jungkook can only groan, as he knows that they kind of have a point. He’s always been too weak for girls and money, so when you put those two things together…

“I might be addicted to the BBC tag on Pornhub, but you my friend… You’re in it for the BBCC,” Jimin snickers, patting Jungkook comfortingly on the back. Jungkook groans into his hands, slumping onto the loveseat beside Seokjin, whose icepack had long since melted and caused the seat to be uncomfortably damp.

“BBCC? I’m almost too afraid to ask.”

“Big black credit card,” Seokjin pipes up, wrapping his own arm around Jungkook’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, bud. We all have been there.”

That’s the problem: somehow, Jungkook finds himself much too ready to accept his fate, eagerly awaiting when you’ll text him next.

x x x x x

After a much-needed shower at Jimin and Seokjin’s place, Jungkook tiredly makes his way to the nearby bus stop, ready to go home and sleep the entire weekend away. Screw his Biochemistry midterm on Monday––if he really is going to whore himself out to you, then he’s going to need all the self-care and therapy that he can get. His phone itches in the pocket of his shorts (yes, he’s still wearing the thot shorts), and he wonders if he should text his therapist and ask for an extra appointment later in the day.

Just as he’s about to pull out his phone, he senses it vibrate once, twice. He freezes in his steps, walking out of the way of busy pedestrians on the sidewalk and into a random clothing store. He sees the lone cashier staring at him from the corner of his eye, but he does not check if her gaze is filled with disgust or disgust. Probably disgust, he surmises.

Flicking his phone on, he sees two new messages from you and his heart immediately starts to hammer in his chest. No one has ever made Jungkook equal parts scared and excited, though he imagines you might have that effect on most people, what with how you look like the type to tie up unsuspecting victims to harvest their organs in your summer cottage up in the mountains or something. Or maybe that’s just Jungkook projecting.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ hey! sorry for taking so long to text you. my roommate tried to make cheesecake at 3am last night and i had to supervise in case he burned down the apartment.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ anyway, i was wondering if you were free later? some time after 5 maybe? let me know!

You already want to meet so soon. Jungkook exhales heavily through his nostrils, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to calm himself. Alright, this is fine. Jungkook is a big boy: he can handle going to a girl’s home without losing his mind. You didn’t say anything about this being the actual dick-measuring contest yet, so he can only assume this is just you asking for something else. Maybe to talk more? Maybe he’ll get a down payment for the prize money? Maybe you’ll follow through on your raincheck? God, is it wrong for him to have his dick plumping up in his shorts when you haven’t even done anything to him yet?

(On the contrary, you could say that you have done a lot for him over the past twenty four hours, though maybe not in the way most people would expect.)

from: jjk yeah i can meet you at 5. what’s this for?

from: y/n l/n ❣️ oh, nothing! i just wanted to talk to you about the actual competition and stuff. plus, i want to actually measure your dick, just so i can see how much you’re actually packing down there ;)

from: jjk ….yeah, fine. whatever.

(This really isn’t a “whatever” type of situation, but honestly, Jungkook doesn’t really know what to say anymore. He’s officially lost his singular brain wrinkle. He’s smooth brain McGee over here.)

You follow up by sharing your location with him, and he’s surprised to find that you aren’t that far away from where Jungkook was right now. He really did mean to go back to his apartment first and get changed into something more… morally acceptable, but since he hasn’t been arrested yet for public decency, he should be okay with going to your place in Seokjin’s thot shorts.

There’s something invigorating about going to your place, dressed the way he is… Maybe the shorts are somehow giving him brain hemorrhage by indirect association with Seokjin. Either that or Jungkook simply loves torturing himself by embarrassing himself constantly. Well, at least he showered and combed his hair before leaving his hyungs’ place.

He inputs your address into his phone map, taking his sweet time as he walks the short distance to your apartment. As he passes by the buildings and street corners, he can’t help but think that he might have been around this area before. He tries to rack his brain, forcing himself to remember why this route seems so familiar.

“Oh right. Yoongi-hyung’s new apartment should be around here,” he muses to himself. He wonders if his hyung had gotten home safely last night. He should probably text him to make sure, but he’s got a literal dick appointment to attend to first, so he’ll remember to check up on Yoongi once he finishes up with you.

Does that make him a shitty friend? Probably. But would Yoongi do the same if Jungkook was in his shoes? Probably.

Yeah, Jungkook and his group of friends aren’t exactly role models for a sensitive and loving relationship, though that’s not much of a surprise to anyone.

He arrives at a decent looking apartment complex, complete with its own little water fountain at the entrance. He walks through the automatic sliding doors, peers at the shiny caution tape barring him from using the elevator. He stares at your address on his phone, groaning loudly when he sees “1603” much to his annoyance.

“No wonder she had such great thighs,” Jungkook mutters angrily to himself, preparing himself for the long and arduous journey his glutes are going to endure.

Years later, Jungkook finds himself at your door, his lungs jumping out of his throat as he struggles to catch his breath. He hunches over, elbows digging into his thighs as he wipes the sweat trailing down his neck. He can see your door just near the end of the hall, but just as he’s about to crawl his way over––

“Oh. Oh my,” a familiar voice says from behind him, and Jungkook looks over his shoulder to see…

“Yoongi-hyung?” Jungkook exclaims incredulously, mouth gaping at the sight of his thought-to-be-dead hyung coming out of the elevator. He splutters for a few more moments before pointing an accusing finger at Yoongi. “You used the elevator?”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow, turning to look at the elevator with a thoughtful look. “Oh right. The elevator works. The maintenance people just forgot to remove the safety tape from last week.” Yoongi looks back at Jungkook, gaze lowering to his legs. “I see that Seokjin has provided you with his thot shorts.”

Jungkook doesn’t even try to cover himself, used to his friends seeing him in varying degrees of undress. Like, what was Yoongi going to do? Take a photo of him and post it to his Twitter for his thousands of followers to see? He wasn’t that cruel...

Snap! Yoongi pockets his phone quickly, clearing his throat. “So,” Yoongi walks up closer to him, peering at Jungkook curiously. “What brings you to my apartment? Not that I’m happy to see you, but I assumed you and the rest of our idiotic gang would have died of alcohol poisoning the night before.”

“...It’s a long story,” Jungkook says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Say... Where did you go last night, by the way? I tried to look for you, but Seokjin said your roommate brought you home?”

“Yeah. She went to the club with a bunch of her friends. She offered me a ride with her because she knew how much I hated it there,” Yoongi says, frowning. “Fuck you, by the way.”

“What the fuck? What the hell did I do?”

“I don’t know. You’re wearing Seokjin’s shorts and my ape brain told me to retaliate out of instinct,” he explains. He takes another long, good glance at his shorts. “Color me surprised that they fit you, by the way. I’d assume your huge ass would be making it rip the seams, or perhaps your dick would be saying hello.”

Jungkook pats his junk proudly. “I know, right? Big guy decided to cooperate, for some reason.”

“Will you guys stop yapping it up out in the hall? I’m pretty sure Mrs. Sy can hear you two idiots from the first floor,” a voice from behind Jungkook hisses, causing the two boys to jump up in surprise. Lo and behold, your head is peeking out from behind your door, a perfectly stenciled eyebrow arched in annoyance. “Well? Are you two coming in or what?” You return back to your apartment, assuming that they’d soon follow.

Yoongi looks at Jungkook. “Wait. You know Y/N?”

Jungkook looks at Yoongi. “Wait. You know Y/N?”

Yoongi squints his eyes. “She’s my roommate. She’s a mutual friend of––”

“––Seokjin,” Jungkook finishes. The two of them pause, a metaphorical light bulb glowing above their heads.

“Ah.”

“I see. The demoness has roped you into some hare-brained scheme, hasn’t she?” Yoongi nods sagely, rubbing his beardless chin. “Can’t say I feel sorry for you since I have to live with the wench.”

Jungkook grimaces. “Man. She’s insane around you too?”

Yoongi shrugs, walking over to your shared apartment. “I’m dating Seokjin, remember? Everyday, I suffer. Everyday, I feel my arm.”

When Jungkook steps into your apartment, he can’t help but be a little surprised. Of course, he shouldn’t have expected to see a medieval torture chamber in the middle of a metropolitan city, but he wouldn’t put it past you to somehow make it happen. Instead, he finds a fairly cozy-looking home, with comfy couches and filled bookshelves, complete with a small balcony that had a few fresh herbs growing in little pots. It looks…

“Yoongi-hyung. You definitely decorated, didn’t you?” Jungkook snorts, fingering the little kitty-patterned throw blanket draped on your couch. It’s soft and expensive, and definitely something only Yoongi would buy. The elder doesn’t even bother looking embarrassed; he just throws Jungkook the middle finger as he walks towards the kitchen.

You come out once more from one of the connecting rooms at the other end of the apartment, presumably your bedroom. You motion for Jungkook to come in. “Yoongi, you’re gonna bake all day, right? Mind if you let Jungkook and I speak alone in my room?”

Yoongi waves his hand disinterestedly. “Whatever. If you guys are gonna be freaky in there, I’m gonna start playing clown music to drown you guys out, alright? And I mean the remix versions with the extra clown honks.”

You roll your eyes. “Yea, yea. We get it. Grandpa needs his special time alone too.”

Jungkook’s heart jumps when you don’t even bother correcting him. Does that mean you guys really were going to do something freaky? Hopefully, Yoongi has learned to differentiate screams of terror from screams of pleasure, though it’s hard to tell if he’d care otherwise.

He follows you into your room and immediately notices the perfectly made bed and the neatly organized desk. Your curtains are drawn close, but the sheerness of it allows the mid-afternoon sun to brighten the room regardless. Your bedroom smells faintly of vanilla and cinnamon, and he notices the small scented candle still smoking from when you’d put it out.

Nothing in the room indicates that he was inside the room of a psychopath, though maybe Namjoon or Taehyung would argue that anyone who makes their bed every day might be a little out of it. Jungkook continues to stand awkwardly by the door, unsure of what to do next except to stare.

You plop onto your bed, giving him an expectant look. “Well? Are you just gonna stand there by the door and have Yoongi see us measure your dick or what?” That gets Jungkook to move. He closes the door, pausing for a second before locking it for good measure. Then, he takes the short two steps that he needs to stand right in front of you.

You crane your neck, appraising him silently as he fidgets from the weirdness of it all. Your gaze trails down and Jungkook is not surprised when you stop to stare at his neon pink shorts. You snort, thumbing the edge of his shorts lightly. Jungkook shivers even though you’re barely touching him and he knows that you notice.

“Trying to get back at me for leaving you with blue balls yesterday?” you muse, letting go of the thin material. Jungkook wants to bring your hand back to his thigh, but he forces himself to keep still.

He looks down. “Not really? But I mean… Is it working?” He can’t help the hopeful lilt in his voice.

You laugh, patting him lightly on the thigh. “No worries, Jungkook. I did promise you a little something last night, right? I admit it was shitty of me to leave you like that, despite what you already might think of me. You probably think I’m just some insane bitch, right?”

Jungkook stares at you. “Do you want me to be honest or...?”

You roll your eyes, but you seem more amused than anything. “Save it. I know I’m weird. But, a promise is a promise…” You trail off, winking at him. “Besides, this works out for the both of us, right? I wanted to measure your dick before we meet up with Taeyong and Doyoung tomorrow, and I can help you blow your rocks right after. Seems like a deal?”

“Is it bad that I’m so ready to have you suck me off that I’m honest to God accepting your offer without any sense of dignity?”

You consider him for a moment. Then, “Nah. I know dudes who would do worse things for three grand and to have their dick sucked. I’d say you’re just doing you.” You place your hands back on his hips, thumbing around the garter of his shorts.

Jungkook groans, not even flinching when you rip his shorts and boxers off in one rough flourish. His soft dick dangles heavily between his thighs. “See, I’m not entirely comforted knowing that you agree with my moral dilemma.”

You clap your hands together, excitement glittering in your expression. “Who cares! Let’s get you all hard and ready, shall we?”

Jungkook squirms under your gaze, getting dick stage fright. “H-hey… This isn’t like porn… I can’t just get hard when I want to, you know? I need… stimulation or some shit.”

You nod, humming thoughtfully. “You’re right… And I remember you said something about taking a long time to get fully hard, right? That’s gonna be a problem indeed.” You lean forward, “So. Tell me, Jungkook. What are your kinks?”

If Jungkook was drinking water, he’s sure he’d be doing a spit take right now. Instead, he just chokes on his own saliva, coughing out his lungs at your sudden inquiry. “M-my kinks? What for?”

“To get you hard, duh.” You leave featherlight grazes around his thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. It stirs something inside Jungkook, but not enough to do anything yet. You tsk, your brow crumpling as you decide what to do next. “What if I…”

You dig your nails into the meat of his thighs and inadvertently pull him closer. He stumbles forward, his breath knocked out of him despite how little you’d done so far. “W-wait,” he wheezes, shock running down his spine. “I––”

You smirk at him, digging harder until you’re sure to leave white little crescents littered around his thigh. “Aha. I guessed you’d be into that. You liked it when I bit you yesterday, didn’t you?”

Jungkook can’t even answer. He’s trying to keep his breathing steady, squeezing his eyelids shut. He hears you shuffling in front of him, and he soon senses your body press closer to him, alerting him that you have stood up. You wrap your arms around his neck, bending his head down until he can feel your breath fan across his lips.

Are you going to kiss him? But the contact doesn’t come; instead, your hands snake up to his hair, massaging his scalp for a moment before tugging on his roots harshly. It pulls a whine from his lips, the response surprising even himself. “S-shit,” he grits his teeth, urging you to do it again. He opens his eyes slightly, sees you watching him with rapt attention.

You lick your lips, looking at him like a meal ready to be eaten. The heat in his stomach builds, but Jungkook doesn’t have it in him to be embarrassed anymore. He doesn’t really have any more room in his brain anymore other than his unabashedly horny thoughts.

“Pain slut, huh? Somehow, it suits you.” You sound breathy, as if you were the one being pleasured instead. It makes Jungkook’s cock twitch a little, coming to life in front of you as you continue to assault his nerves.

“Do you like pain everywhere?” Your hands leave his head, coming down to the edge of his shirt. It’s a silent request, and Jungkook allows you to lift up his sweater, leaving him completely bare before you. You throw it somewhere to your right, eyes raking him up and down. Something about you still being fully clothed makes Jungkook’s inside light on fire, and it rushes blood down south before he can even understand why.

You chuckle, looking at his hardened nipples with interest. “Pierced? What a naughty boy you are.” You flick him there experimentally, and when Jungkook’s breath hitches, that gives you a go sign to do more. You fiddle around with the rosy bud some more, circling it with the pads of your fingers until Jungkook was a whining mess before you. “Sensitive… What a prize you are, Jungkook.”

Jungkook keens at the praise, even though he knows you didn’t really mean it in a good way. He finds himself wanting to please you: to get himself hard for you, to make you want him like how he wants you. He honestly can’t tell if you’re enjoying this as much as him, other than the way you’re watching him closely like a hawk.

He’s nearly half-hard, his cock jutting against your stomach. You peer down, figuring out your next move as he holds his breath, afraid he might do something wrong. Your fingers move once more, tracing shapes across his stomach and causing the muscles there to contract. He anticipates your next movements, his dick steadily throbbing.

“I suppose the easiest way to get you hard is to touch you here, right?” you murmur lowly. You grip him by the hips all of a sudden, your thumbs placed firmly into his Adonis’ belt. You inch closer and closer to where he wants you the most, and you watch him amusedly as he clamps down on his bottom lip, unwilling to sound desperate so early in the game.

(Was it early though? He’s been thinking about this exact scenario since last night, even plaguing his dreams. Still, it wouldn’t look cool if he just… busted a nut just from having his dick out. Even he knew that was kinda sad.)

Despite his best efforts, perhaps the desperation is apparent on his face because you eventually do take pity on him. You wrap your fingers around his length, not moving just yet. You smile secretly to yourself when you hear Jungkook exhale and swallow audibly, but you’re waiting for something. You look up at him, batting your eyelashes innocently as if you didn’t have his dick in your hands.

“What do good boys say when they want something?” You’re fishing, but your teasing tone breaks Jungkook down enough to release a ragged moan. He places his hands on your shoulder, using you for support as you slowly inch your hand down to the base of his cock.

He can’t keep the whine out of his voice when he says, “P...Please. Move?”

Your grin is wicked. “Of course, baby.”

Yeah, if you keep this up, Jungkook is going to come embarrassingly fast and he doesn’t think you’ll be quite pleased with that.

There is pre-cum leaking at the tip of his cock, dangerously close to pooling over and dripping all over your carpet. You are quick to swipe it off with your thumb, dragging it down his shaft for an easier slide. Jungkook’s abs tense, his teeth clamping on his bottom lip so aggressively that he almost splits it open. His grip on your shoulders tighten, but you don’t mind. You keep stroking him languidly, not going fast enough for Jungkook’s liking, but the concentration on your face is enough to make Jungkook release a stilted moan. It doesn’t take long until the wet squelch of your hand jerking him fills the room, coupled with the sound of Jungkook’s labored breathing.

“You’re really wet,” you chuckle, watching with fascination as your words urge another drop of pre-cum to collect at his tip. “Are you always like this?”

“N-not… Really?” It takes a while for Jungkook’s brain to connect, caught between wanting to keep his eyes shut and wanting to stare at your cute hands trying to wrap around his dick. Your fingers can’t even circle the girth of his cock, the realization almost making Jungkook come there and then.

He’d never been one to be overly confident about his penis size, to be honest. He doesn’t really go around proclaiming it to the world, and his meager body count doesn’t help the fact that most people are unaware of the extent of his package. He isn’t itching to tell people either, but he’s starting to see why people would be envious of having a large dick. The sight of you struggling to pump his cock really makes for a pretty picture.

“Ugh, my arm is getting tired,” you complain after a while, getting frustrated when you realize that Jungkook is almost fully hard, but not quite. “Jeez. Your dick is so huge that it really takes a minute for the fuel tank to fill up, huh?”

“I-I’m sorry?” Jungkook wheezes, nearly crying out when you flick your wrist in just the right manner. Your hand pauses by the head of his dick, squeezing tightly enough not to be painful, much to his disappointment. Jungkook is still too shy to ask for more.

You let go of him all of a sudden, causing a guttural whine to escape Jungkook’s lips. Ignoring him, you nudge him back a few steps, Jungkook complying wordlessly. He’s still confused until you reach over to your bed, grabbing one of your pillows before dropping to your knees. Jungkook’s jaw drops, spluttering incomprehensibly as you cushion your knees with the pillow.

You look up, giggling amusedly. “Reminds you of last night, huh? Not gonna lie, I’ve been itching to have your cock in my mouth, though I’m not even sure if any of it can fit. That’s not gonna stop me from trying.”

Oh God. Oh Geez. Jungkook is going to die, isn’t he? He vaguely remembers his dream from the night before, how your pretty pink lips had stretched over his dick, barely going past his head. He whines pathetically, another string of pre-cum finally dripping down and landing on your thighs.

You hold him by his hips, preventing him from moving as your hot breath fans across his wet head. You lick your lips, taking one glance up at him before giving his tip a quick peck. It’s nothing to write home about, but the way Jungkook’s breath catches is enough to encourage you to do more. You suckle his head a little, suctioning your lips and moaning slightly at the bitter tang. Your eyes flutter shut, tongue swirling nondescript patterns as you greedily engrave his taste into your mind.

The image of you enjoying yourself is enough to get Jungkook fully hard. He feels like he’s on fire, from his flushed cheeks all the way to his groin. He doesn’t know where to put his hands, unsure if you’d allow him to pull on your hair.

You must have noticed his plight, because one of your hands leaves his hips to grasp his own, bringing it to your hair. You pop off his dick for a second, lips already redder than before. Jungkook wishes he could kiss you, but he’s still so unsure. “You can pull my hair, but if you push me down further than I’m willing to go, I’m stopping immediately, okay?” Your voice is authoritative and your gaze is steely, but it only prompts Jungkook to moan in reply.

He nods, nearly getting whiplash from how quickly his head bobs. You smirk, appeased by his obedience. You return to your ministrations, rewarding him by going further down and bobbing your head at a snail’s pace.

Jungkook’s sanity is barely hanging onto a thread. He wants to thrust into your wet mouth, never having felt this sort of pleasure in his life. He’s beginning to understand why Jimin is such a slut, and he wonders why on earth he’s been denying himself things like this. His eyes are half-lidded, but he’s determined to watch you as your masterful tongue brings him to the edge of hysteria.

When Jungkook doesn’t think your mouth can go further down, you surprise him once again. You go lower, and Jungkook feels your throat swallow around him until he nearly screams. Drool pools in the inside of his mouth, as if Jungkook’s body doesn’t know what to do with the pleasure. His legs nearly give out, but your hands keep him mounted.

His toes are curling, thighs trembling. “Fuck,” he whines, unable to stop himself when he thrusts a little into your mouth. “Shit, I didn’t mean to–”

You glance up at him. Your eyes are tearing up, but otherwise you look unperturbed. You flatten your tongue on the underside of his dick, tracing the vein there as you slowly come up for air. You swallow the mix of saliva and pre-cum in your mouth, licking your lips like you’ve just had a 5-star meal. You look absolutely debauched, though Jungkook knows he’s probably not doing much better.

“No gag reflex. It’s fine,” you shrug, as if you’d just told him about the weather. Your voice sounds hoarse, roughened by the assault of his dick on your throat. “Are you close?”

Jungkook doesn’t want to admit it, but– “Yes,” he says. He’s breathing like he’s just run a marathon, sweat dripping down his neck. You observe it drip down his body, as it curves down his neck and to his chest.

“You aren’t coming until I say so, got it?” You warn. He nods, cock twitching in desperation for your mouth to continue what it was doing.

But instead, you reach back to your bed, and Jungkook finally notices the tape measure that you’d left there. Oh right. Jungkook is brought back to reality, suddenly remembering why he’d gone here in the first place.

“This will only take a second, baby,” you whisper lowly, and Jungkook’s conscience is shot out of his head once more. Call him baby one more time, and Jungkook is sure to bust his load. He’s worried he might gain a Pavlovian response to the word; getting hard every time someone so much as utters “baby” for whatever reason.

You unravel the measuring tape, placing the end of it near the base of his member. You drag it over his length, whistling in awe as the number keeps growing and growing. “Shit, you really are huge,” you gasp in amazement, peering closely at the measurement to make sure you aren’t reading it wrong. “Nearly nine inches. Are you insane?”

Jungkook chuckles in embarrassment, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s… nothing?”

You snort, shaking your head at the pure audacity of this boy in front of you. “No need to humblebrag, baby. Unless you want me to degrade you, then stop being coy with me.”

At the word “degrade,” Jungkook’s erection twitches with interest. Of course, you notice. “Oh? You want me to degrade you?”

Jungkook’s face heats up, forever astonished by your brazenness. “N-no! That’s not what I–”

“You want me to call your cock pathetic, huh? Is that what you want?”

Jungkook whines, shifting from foot to foot as he tries to avoid your lustful gaze. “I…”

“Want me to call you names, huh? Took your cock so long to get hard, struggled so much to get it up. What a useless dick that you have…” you trail off, covering your mouth behind your hand to hide your grin.

Jungkook feels like he’s about to fall over. The pressure in between his legs is reaching his breaking point, and Jungkook really doesn’t want to embarrass himself by coming untouched. He has a sinking suspicion you’d enjoy it if he did, however.

Your hand slides back to his crotch, cupping his erection once more. You run your palm along him once, enjoying the way his breath hitches. He’s undeniably close and it fills you with pride knowing that you did this to him. “You’re close.” You say it like a fact.

Jungkook squirms. “Please… Faster… I’m so close, Y/N. Just a lil bit more, please…”

“I love it when you beg,” you laugh, sounding a little mean. “But since you’ve been nice all this time, I’ll let you.”

Your hands speed up, twisting and pulling him in ways that Jungkook isn’t sure are possible. He’s full-on panting like a fucking dog right now, humping shallowly into your hand like he’s lost his mind. He’s so unbelievably close, the heat in his stomach climbing higher and higher until––

“SHIT! Y/N!”

You stop, confused. That shout didn’t sound like Jungkook. You turn to your closed door, ears straining for the sound again. “Yoongi?” you call out. “Did you say something?”

Muffled footsteps come rushing closer. Your doorknob jiggles, but Jungkook had thankfully locked it when he’d come into the room earlier. Yoongi huffs from behind the door, banging loudly on the frame. “Y/N! Help! I fucking dropped the cheesecake!”

“He dropped the cheesecake,” you repeat dully to yourself. You share a look with Jungkook. The banging doesn’t stop.

“Y/N PLEASEEE THE KITCHEN IS A MESS!” Yoongi screams, uncaring of whatever he was interrupting. “YOU OWE ME! I PAID FOR YOUR RENT LAST MONTH SO YOU GOTTA HELP!”

“I hate that bastard,” you sigh, defeated. You let go of Jungkook reluctantly, giving him an apologetic look. Jungkook wants to cry. “I’m… really sorry for leaving you again like this. I…” you hesitate, looking at the door then back to him. “I do kind of owe him, so…”

Jungkook exhales shakily, bending down to the floor to pick his shirt up. He dresses quietly, cheeks burning. Why must you keep torturing him like this? He thinks his balls might explode at this point. “It’s no problem… I’ll just take care of myself at home.”

You peer at him, feeling incredibly guilty. “I have a connecting bathroom. You could use it if you want?”

“That’d be great, thanks.” Jungkook says before hurriedly rushing out of there. He refuses to look at you as he slams the bathroom door shut, breathing slowly through his nostrils in an attempt to calm himself. He waits as he listens for you to leave before his hands scramble back onto his dick, loudly crying out as he tugs himself to completion.

His legs give out from under him as he slides down to the floor, spurts of hot cum flying past his fist. Wave after wave of pleasure tingles down his spine as he slides up and down his cock. After his dick shoots its last droplet of cum, Jungkook slams his head against your bathroom wall. He’s exhausted.

He closes his eyes, thinks about how his life has led him up to this moment. Jizzing in some near stranger’s home while one of his best friends cleans up his fallen cheesecake.

“Jesus fucking Christ I hate it here,” he says. He gets up unsteadily, washing his hands of his mess.

x x x x x

Fully dressed and unsatisfyingly sated, Jungkook exits your bathroom with a flush down his neck. He keeps his eyes averted from you, but not before glaring heatedly at Yoongi as he turns to leave. Yoongi cocks his head to the side, annoyingly unaware of what he had done.

“You okay, dude? You look like a bull ready to pummel me,” Yoongi snickers, bemused by Jungkook’s flared nostrils. “Seriously. You okay?”

You slap Yoongi on the thigh, huffing angrily as you stay squatted on the floor, your other hand busy wiping off the cheesecake from the floor with a paper towel. “Shut up. You’ve done enough shitheadery today.”

Yoongi looks at the mounted clock on your fridge. “It’s only 7PM. My shitheadery doesn’t clock out until 10PM today.”

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook waves his goodbye. “Well. I guess I’ll see you guys,” he murmurs, inching closer to the door. He walks out in silence, no longer bothering to hide his pouting. He takes the elevator down, ruminating on his existence. When he reaches the ground floor, his phone immediately dings with a notification.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ hey. please don’t hate me. i’m really sorry. raincheck?

Jungkook snorts, stopping in his tracks. It’s always just rainchecks with you. He types up a quick response.

from: jjk it’s not your fault. it’s fine.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ you sure? you got off well by yourself at least, right?

from: jjk yeah. don’t worry about it.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ if you’re down… i could help you through the phone? when you get home? :( i just feel really bad. like, genuinely. yoongi is an asshole.

The offer sounds interesting, but sadly, Jungkook is out of juice for the day. He’s got a lot of stamina for many things, but it turns out he’s out of practice when it comes to his own dick.

from: jjk nah it’s fine. thanks though.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ i hope you’re still down for the contest? doyoung texted me while we were busy a while ago and said that they were free tomorrow after 12?

from: jjk no worries. i’ll be there.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ <3 ty you’re the best!! <3

He groans, slapping himself in the face. God, he is so fucking whipped.

x x x x x

The next day, Jungkook wakes up with a burning headache. He feels hungover even though he didn’t drink at all the night before, and Jungkook wonders if his brain had somehow deflated overnight with how hollow he feels. He grabs his phone from his bed stand, sees a new text from you reminding him of what he’d promised.

You had sent him an address to another apartment complex just a few bus stops away from where he lives and he assumes this must be either Doyoung’s or Taeyong’s place. He shuts his eyes for another few moments, trying his best to remember how to live.

It’s already nearing noon, so he needs to get going if he doesn’t want to be late. He shudders to think what you might do if he ghosts you. Despite how guilty you were yesterday for leaving him mid-nut, he doesn’t think that debt will cover him if he chooses not to show up to the dick-measuring contest.

On the bus, he fidgets in his seat, picking at the rips in his jeans and doing anything to keep his mind busy. He keeps thinking that someone knows what he’s up to, paranoia eating him from the inside out as he darts his eyes left and right, hoping no one can actually read minds. The bus is relatively empty, with only him and an elderly couple sitting near the front. They seem none the wiser, though Jungkook fears what they would think if they knew what he was up to.

He almost wishes he was wearing Seokjin’s thot shorts, as the skimpy excuse of clothing had somehow given him some sort of confidence the day before. Gone is that false sense of (misplaced) bravado; instead, Jungkook is filled with anxiety at the prospect of showing a couple of strangers his dick.

(A fairly human response, but that doesn’t help Jungkook’s current case.)

He arrives at the apartment complex in record time, and he sees you standing by the entrance. You look well-rested, your hands fiddling with your phone. Jungkook has only ever seen you when you were wearing that revealing dress from the club and your pajamas from your home, so he’s kind of shocked to see you look cute in your simple white dress and jean jacket. Not that you didn’t look good those other times, but seeing you look like a normal university student is astonishing, for lack of better word.

You almost look like a regular girl just waiting for her date to pick her up.

“Hey!” You greet him cheerily when you see him approach, waving at him. He waves back, the apples of his cheeks dusted pink from his previous thoughts. She’s not your date, you weirdo. Wait, she’s the weirdo. Get it together man! This shit is fucked up.

“This is their place, I assume?” Jungkook asks, looking at the building. It appears almost identical to your own apartment complex, minus the mini water fountain at the front. Ah, the wonders of living in a concrete jungle.

“Yep,” you nod. You start walking towards the entrance, with Jungkook following closely. “You ready? God, I can’t wait to see Doyoung’s stupid face. He’s gonna be so pissed!”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Jungkook mutters, vibrating with nerves.

You both make your way to the apartment, with you humming quietly while he sweats profusely beside you. At least one of you is having fun, he thinks grimly to himself. You reach apartment 322, knocking three times before a boy with neat black hair opens the door.

“Y/N! Good to see you,” the boy says, reaching for a hug. You hug him back enthusiastically, ignoring Jungkook’s bemused stares. If this boy is either Doyoung or Taeyong, aren’t you supposed to… hate both of their guts? Or at least, not be friends? What even is going on?

When you step back, you point at Jungkook offhandedly. “Oh yeah, this is Jungkook. The guy I’m dating.”

Jungkook nearly chokes on his own spit, but luckily the boy doesn’t notice. Right… You guys are supposed to be dating. It’s not real, though. Get a grip! “Hi, I’m Jungkook,” he wheezes, shaking the other guy’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you…”

“I’m Doyoung,” he introduces himself, a small smile on his lips. “Nice to meet you too. I’ve heard… a lot about you, so to speak.”

Jungkook squeaks, earning a chuckle from Doyoung. “No need to be embarrassed. I think we’re way past that point now. Sorry for roping you into this, by the way. But when Y/N wants to fight, well… Let’s just say I’m not going to be the first one who backs down.”

“Says the dude who couldn’t even beat me at arm wrestling,” you snort, pushing past Doyoung and walking into his home. Doyoung rolls his eyes, gesturing for Jungkook to come in.

“Props to you for dating her, by the way. I’ve been friends with that demon since elementary school, so I know what she’s like. You must be a guy with strong willpower,” Doyoung says.

“I’m… Sorry for saying this, but I’m kind of confused? I didn’t know you guys were friends,” Jungkook says, examining Doyoung’s apartment. It’s a lot bigger than yours, though he does recall you saying that Doyoung was filthy rich. It’s a lot more modern looking for sure, as Jungkook can see that Doyoung has two industrial-sized refrigerators in his kitchen. What kind of university student needs two industrial-sized refrigerators?

“Yeah, we are. She actually only dated Taeyong because she knew we both liked each other but I was too stubborn to make a move, so she did the only thing she knew how to do: be an asshole,” he explains simply. Jungkook nods, needing no further clarification.

“Jungkook! Come with me,” you pop out from one of the doorways deeper in the apartment, beckoning him closer. You point at Doyoung, “And you. Get Taeyong ready. I’m gonna need a few minutes to get Jungkook in tip-top shape!”

Doyoung chuckles, shoving Jungkook towards you. “Well, that’s my cue. I’ll introduce you to Taeyong later, I guess. He’s in my bedroom, so we’ll come out in about 20 minutes? That should be enough time, right?”

Yeah. Right. Jungkook walks numbly towards you, arms rigged by his sides as you pull him into Doyoung’s spare bathroom. You lock the door close, whirling around to face him with your hands on your hips. You’ve rolled your sleeves up, appearing like a demented surgeon preparing to dissect him. “Well! Strip!”

Jungkook is clumsy when he unbuttons his jeans, his entire body feeling like it’s being weighed down by pounds of lead. He shucks them off, leaving him in his boxers (thankfully, with no holes in them. He made sure to double-check before he left this morning.) You appraise him silently, thinking of what to do next.

Before Jungkook can say anything, your hands are already on his chest, pointer fingers placed near his nipples. His piercings are visible through his thin shirt, much to your appreciation. You circle them lazily, much like how you did yesterday.

Jungkook can’t relax long enough to enjoy it, however. His shoulders are tense, fists clenched behind his back. He’s trying to stop thinking about what’s going to happen, trying to enjoy your touch. He grits his teeth, swallowing thickly.

“I… I can’t do this, Y/N.” he mumbles. “I don’t think I can get hard. I’m too nervous.”

You pause in your movements. “You’re nervous?” you purr, voice lowering. Jungkook stops fidgeting to stare at you, sensing the shift in your demeanor. “How can I alleviate that, hmm?”

“What?”

You pinch his nipples, hard. He gasps, whimpering right after from the jolt of pain. “I think I know how to calm you down,” you murmur, staring him down like he’s nothing more than a delicious snack.

“You want me to hurt you, huh? Is that it? Answer me, slut.” You say those words, but there’s a small bit of hesitation in your expression, like you’re worried if he truly likes it. When he nods enthusiastically, urging you to go on, you smile softly at him. His heart hammers in his chest, a small case of butterflies beginning to erupt there. You look kinda cute, even if you have his nipples in a twist.

“If it’s too much, just say ‘dumbo’ and I’ll stop, okay?” Jungkook nods once more, eager to get going.

You smirk, letting go of his nipples and gripping his hips instead. Your thumbs stay innocently above his boxers. “Do you like it when I call you names too, huh? You like being pinched and prodded?”

Jungkook whines, already turning needy. The anxiety from a while ago slowly drains away, leaving only lust to cloud his mind. “N-no, I just…”

“No?” You laugh, your thumbs catching on the garter of his boxers and pulling them down until the tip of his cock peeks out, already in the midst of getting hard. “Then what’s this?”

“Nggh…” Jungkook can’t say anything, can only stare helplessly at you.

“Pathetic. You have a nine-inch cock but it’s good for nothing except earning me a bit of money. Shame, isn’t it? Would be nice if you knew how to use it, then maybe I’d let you fuck me,” you say, edging closer to him until your lips find his exposed collarbones. You suck harshly, giddy when color immediately blooms at the spot. You thread your fingers into his dark, fluffy hair – and tug.

It’s too much all at once – Jungkook isn’t ready for any of it at all. He’s panting, whining, drooling a little. He shimmies his hips a little, his boxers sliding down his thighs and onto the marble floor. His cock springs free, already dripping pre-cum but still only half-hard.

“Ah, there it is. Your big useless cock. My, my… Already dirtying Doyoungie’s floor with your slick, huh? You gonna make the floor wet, baby?”

Jungkook garbles something; did he say something? Who knows. All he knows right now is that 1) you’re making him lose his marbles and 2) he’s embarrassingly close. He’s never gotten this hard so fast in his entire life, and he might be suffering from blood loss or something. His head feels light, like he’s floating. His entire body is thrumming, senses filled with nothing but you.

You gently lead him closer to the bathtub where you sit, still paying no attention to his weeping arousal. Your mouth is dangerously close to it though, but you make no move to hold him in your mouth. Instead, you hike your skirt up until it reaches your waist, revealing your white panties. Jungkook zeroes in on the darkening patch, a shuddering breath leaving his lungs. He’s screwed.

“Show me how you pleasured yourself yesterday, when you were in my bathroom,” you say, caressing the front of your panties. You grind against your palm, eyelashes fluttering as your jaw drops into an ‘o’. You exhale through your nose, laughing breathily. “If you do well, then maybe I’ll show you what I did when you left, hmm?”

Jungkook has never moved faster in his life than he did then. He takes his erection into his hands, sighing with relief when he begins to pump. He moves slower than he usually would, unwilling to finish so soon after getting this far. He’s already wound up from your teasing (and if you count the past few days, then let’s say he’s been edged long enough.)

You study him with sharp eyes, focusing on the movement of his hands. “That’s it. It must be easy jerking off with how wet you are, huh?”

“Y-yeah.” Jungkook speeds up, flicking his wrist and focusing on the sensitive tip of his cock. His attention is pulled when he sees you shift from the corner of his eye. His grip stutters when you push your panties to the side, giving him a full view of your glistening core. He licks his lips, aching to put his mouth there but only if you’d allow him.

“Why’d you stop?” You stretch your leg out, using your foot to urge his wrist to keep moving. “Come on. I want to see you.”

You circle your clit leisurely before dipping your fingers into your pussy two fingers at a time, wet enough for the slide to be smooth. Jungkook quickens his pace, wanting to match your speed. He watches, mesmerized, at the sight of your fingers pushing in and out.

The obscene sounds coming from the both of you is loud enough to mask Jungkook’s desperate mewls. He’s going faster now, wanting nothing more than to cum all over you and your pussy. You’d look good in his cum, the pearly droplets would look good in contrast with your perfect skin.

Your thighs are shaking, your own breathing shallow as you quickly approach your end. You’re moaning in tandem with him, your arousal coating your fingers generously as it begins to run down the back of your hand. You’re scissoring yourself, but it’s barely enough when you compare it to Jungkook’s cock. No, nothing would be enough to prepare you to take him. He’d ruin you, and the thought of him breaking you is enough to help you tip over the edge.

“Fuuuuuuck,” you moan, eyes screwing shut as you are wrought with the strongest orgasm of your life. More wetness drips out of you as you rub frantically at your clit, riding your high. You look at Jungkook through your eyelashes, lips parted. “Fuck,” you repeat.

Jungkook can’t hold back anymore. He knows he shouldn’t cum but the pleasure is skyrocketing at an unparalleled speed. His balls tighten, the heat in his abdomen building until he can’t hold back even if he tried. He shudders once, twice, before jets of his cum spills from over his fist, some of the droplets making their way onto your thighs. He moans at the sight, doesn’t try to change his trajectory as his mind is completely hazed with lust. “Shit, I’m–” Jungkook grinds one last time into his hand, before promptly slumping down onto the floor.

“Jesus, that was a lot of cum,” he hears you say, but he can’t bring himself to look at you. He’s ashamed, having cummed without your permission. He can feel his dick softening underneath him, and he dimly remembers that hadn’t been the plan at all. He was supposed to get hard, have his dick measured, and then finish if he was allowed. And now, he ruined everything because he couldn’t hold himself back.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” he mutters quietly, hiding behind his cum-stained hands. He cringes when the mess enters his eyes, wiping his palm somewhere on his leg. “Fuck. I messed everything up. You were just… It was too much… You…”

“Should’ve used your safety word, Jungkook.”

“It wasn’t because it was bad,” Jungkook’s cheeks flush, “It was… too good.”

You kneel beside him, cradling his chin and forcing him to look at you. He had been afraid to see disappointment in your eyes, so he’s absolutely surprised to see you look… amused. You’re even giggling a little.

“Sorry. I went a bit overboard. Even I get horny sometimes,” you shrug, wiping a bit of cum away from his forehead. Your own fingers are slick with your own cum, so really, you were just making a bigger mess of his face. Jungkook can’t say he’s opposed to a little mess. “You just looked so good that I couldn’t help myself.”

“You… enjoyed yourself, too? I’m not insane for thinking there’s something between us?”

“Honestly, you’re at least a little bit insane,” you laugh at his dumbfounded expression. “What? I’m cuckoo, and you know it. The fact that you got turned on by me even after all I’d done to you… Really puts you into perspective, huh?”

Jungkook grumbles, but he’s no longer frowning. “I guess. My friends tell me I have a type, and I guess you fit the bill.”

You laugh wholeheartedly at that, and it brings a smile to Jungkook’s face. He likes it when you laugh, he decides. “Same here. I guess you’re my type, too.”

You peer down at his flaccid dick. “Too bad about your meat flute, though. Unless you can get it back up in the next 2 minutes, then I don’t think you’re getting that three grand.”

“Please don’t call my dick that,” Jungkook says before shrugging his shoulders. “And it’s no worries. I had the biggest nut of my life and that’s good enough to me. Plus, you said you’d give me one thousand dollars if I agreed to help you out, so you better not back out on that.”

You snigger, patting him gently on the shoulder. “Yeah, whatever. But not before we get out of here and you fuck my brains out, got it? You need to work for it, baby.”

Is it bad that his cock was already beginning to stir once more? Unprecedented, as it usually took Jungkook ages to get back up. Maybe you really were the one for him.

“Deal. Let’s get out of here?”

When the two of you finish getting cleaned up and leave the bathroom with no evidence that you had even been there, Doyoung doesn’t even bat an eye as you walk past him, eager to get out of the door. Taeyong is lounging on the couch with his dick… mysteriously still in his pants, as if he had no intention of taking them off in the first place.

“Sorry, we need to leave. There’s an emergency we have to attend to. See you, Doyoungie!” You tug Jungkook along, who waves his own hasty goodbye.

The door clicks shut, leaving the couple alone once more. Taeyong grins up at Doyoung, “You really are amazing, Doyoung. How’d you know she’d end up with him?”

Doyoung flicks open his phone, showing Taeyong his text messages with none other than Kim Seokjin himself. “All according to keikaku, my love. Kim Seokjin always wins.”

#networkbangtan #armiesnet #btsghostie #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts reader insert #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #bts #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts jungkook #bangtan #bts fanfic #no more smut for 2020......... NO MORE #next fic is angst idc anymore I NEED TO CLEANSE MYSELF AHHHHHH

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atlabeth · 3 years

Text

hold onto me (im a little unsteady) - sokka x reader

i was listening to the song when i came up w this so feel free to listen to that if you want

summary: a late night with sokka reminds you that even on the worst days, you always have someone in your corner.

a/n: lmao this is 100% self indulgent i have no excuses. my parents are getting divorced and almost every time they're together they argue and so this is just a comfort fic after it happened again tonight bc GD i wish i had a sokka. this one goes out to all my divorce babies or people with parents that never stop arguing. you are very loved<3

wc: 1.7k, this got away from me lol

warning(s): mentions of parents arguing n shit, like the tiniest mentions of implying sex and problems with consent (in general, not with them), but this is all fluff

hey. i know you’re probably asleep right now but could you come over?

It was far too late at night when you sent the text. A question asked on a whim, an offer that would most likely go ignored due to the boy on the other end being asleep.

But goddammit, you really didn’t care. Even if he didn’t respond, just hitting ‘send’ made you feel slightly better. You had already taken refuge in one of the sweatshirts he had left at your house (read: one that you had stolen and refused to give back) and as your eyes fell on the glow of the digital clock on your bedside table, you were once again reminded of how stupid this was.

But you heard the telltale buzz of a notification and all but lunged for your phone, an uncontrollable smile tugging on your lips. You didn’t know why you ever doubted him.

sokka💙: you know i never sleep babe

sokka💙: a curse of my genius

sokka💙: im omw

you’re the best thank you love<3

A pair of fuzzy socks and a refilled water bottle later, you heard the sound of something hitting your window. Though you tensed up at first, a roll of your eyes was all it took before you remembered just who you had invited over. Another smile took over as you pushed yourself off of your bed, pushing the curtains aside in time to see another pebble hit the pane.

A physical effort took place to stifle the laugh as you pushed your window up, and you leaned against the sill on your elbows to get a better look at your ridiculous boyfriend.

“Throwing rocks at my window? I think I’m stuck in a bad romcom.”

He grinned and let the remaining pebbles fall to the ground. “It’s what’s to be expected from your Prince Charming, right? Besides, I’m assuming that your parents wouldn’t just let me walk through the front door at this hour.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks. Just the sight of Sokka was always enough to make you feel better, and tonight was no exception. The vice on your heart was already starting to loosen. “Right as usual. Think you’ll catch me if I jump?”

He laughed and made a show of looking up and down the distance and then at his arms. “I’d like to say so, but I think we’d have better luck if I climb up.”

“You sure you can do that, big guy?” you asked with a teasing grin. He rolled his eyes with the same sentiment.

“Of course I can. I just thank nature that there’s a tree so close to your window. It’s saved me from a lot of embarrassing falls.”

You chuckled and backed away from the window, the slight chill from the night air beginning to get to you. “I’ll leave you to it while I get things ready.”

Truth be told, your room was a total mess at the moment. You knew Sokka wouldn’t care, especially not now, but it put you slightly more at ease to have something in your life that you could control. You were in the middle of shoving some previously strewn-about clothes into your closet when you heard the click of your window closing. When you turned around, you were met with your boyfriend’s smiling face.

“You’re so pretty,” you murmured as you walked over to him. He wrapped his arms around your waist as you kissed him lightly on the lips, unable to stop the blossoming smile nor the warmth that the action gave you. “Thank you for being here.”

“Of course.” The softness of his words were in stark contrast to the joking bravado from only minutes earlier, and as you stepped away from his embrace and pushed yourself onto your bed, he joined you on the other side. “And not that I’m not happy to be here, but I just wanna know. What’s going on?”

You sighed, letting one leg hang off the bed as you tucked the other in. It was a testament to Sokka’s power how quickly he had gotten you to forget about the new mess of the night. “The usual showing of fuckall and fuckup. I’m more impressed by how they never run out of things to scream at each other about.”

Your bad joke didn’t get a laugh out of him, which you were secretly glad for. Instead, he snaked an arm around your back and tugged you closer, a contented sigh falling from your lips as you nestled your head into the space between his shoulder and his head. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “You know it’s not your fault, right?”

The phrase had gone in one ear and out the other more times than you could count from your parents, but each time Sokka said it, the words held a different weight. You knew it wasn’t your fault in the first place, but guilt didn’t care all that much for logic. You knew he meant it though, and once more the vice loosened.

“I know. But it still helps to hear it.” You glanced up at him, reaching a hand up to twist a loose strand of his hair around your finger. “You should wear your hair down more often,” you mused. “It makes you look like a prince.”

He chuckled, amusement glinting through his ocean eyes. “I did say I was your Prince Charming, didn’t I?”

You smiled, slowly uncurling his hair from your finger. “Yeah.”

“That means I’ll always be there for you. Especially to save my royal from their evil stepparents.”

Another laugh bubbled in your chest at that, and you leaned closer into him. “Thank you. The more I visit your place, the more I want your family to be mine. Hakoda is like, the nicest man I’ve ever met, and your mom? She actually makes me want to cry with how sweet she is. I think I know where you get it from.”

He grinned and bumped your leg with his own. “You know you’re welcome over there any time. But maybe you shouldn’t — I think my mom might actually adopt you with how much she loves you. That… that would be really weird.”

His joy was infectious as you planted another kiss on his cheek, something that earned you a, as you liked to call it, dazzling Signature Sokka Smile. “I’ll make sure she holds off on the adoption papers for now.”

“I’d like that.”

And though the happiness you felt at the moment was almost overwhelming, that was just what caused that tiny sliver of doubt to come in. When people invited their partners over at three in the morning, it usually wasn’t to sit on the bed and talk about their problems. It was… it was for more, and you didn’t want that right now. And because you were an expert at it, you decided to put your foot in your mouth and start talking.

“I— I’m sorry that I called you over here so late, for no reason. I know you probably expected something else than me ranting, but…” you sighed, drawing your knees closer to your chest as you brought your other hand to Sokka’s resting on your shoulder. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea.”

He sighed at that, but you knew it wasn’t one of disappointment. “You know I’m here for you. I don’t care if you just want to sit in silence for the next five hours while we stare at the wall, or if you want to watch sappy rom coms until your eyes bleed. I’m more than okay with staying like this. I didn’t come over here because I expected anything from you — I came over here because you needed me, and so I’m here.” Sokka smiled, an image you didn’t think would ever stop making you melt, and intertwined your hand with his. “This is perfect. You’re perfect.”

You were so stunned at the brazen declaration that your voice got stuck in your throat for a moment, holding back tears. (Happy tears. They were never anything other than happy tears with Sokka.) It hit you then that you didn’t really know what it was like having someone get close to you without an ulterior motive.

“Thank you,” you murmured after a moment of comfortable silence. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You knew he was smiling, even without having to look up at him. You could hear it in his voice, feel it in the kiss he pressed to your hairline.

A comfortable silence hung in the air for a long time until you broke it. “You know… my dad kinda ran off to a motel for the night after this whole thing, and my mom leaves early in the morning. If you were serious about those rom coms…” You allowed the unsaid question of staying the night to fester so Sokka knew he could say no if he wanted to, but he didn’t even hesitate.

“Of course I was serious. I mean, I’ve gotta get the ideas for our future wedding from somewhere.”

You laughed, a sentiment that had occurred more times in the ten minutes he had been here than the past week, and picked the remote for your little box TV off of your bedside table. You clicked through various movies until you found one Sokka liked, and then you cuddled deeper into his side to prepare for the ride you had ahead of you.

Thirty minutes into 27 Dresses, he had fallen asleep, arm still around you and one of his legs slightly intertwined with one of your own. But it’s not like you minded — the familiar weight of Sokka in your bed had caused all your worries to melt away, if only for the night.

You didn’t expect him to last past the first movie, but you were sure you would at least get through until Katherine Heigl got the man. But there was an overwhelming feeling of safety permeating the air with Sokka’s arms around you, and you ended up knocked out before she could even get through all twenty seven dresses.

It wasn’t lost on you how fortunate you were — he didn’t expect anything like that from you, he just wanted you to be safe. He was there for you. You would never understand how you had gotten so lucky with your boyfriend, but you would never stop being grateful for him.

this is the most self indulgent thing ive ever written and i am NOT sorry

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77

atla tags: @marianne1806 @brown-eyed-thang @akiris

#sokka x reader #sokka x you #sokka x y/n #sokka fic #sokka #sokka atla #atla #avatar #avatar the last airbender #avatar fic #atla fic #sadie writes #everyone deserves him.... sokka im sorry u have 100 gfs and bfs

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1kook · 4 years

Text

some way, some how

jeon jungkook x (f) reader

Summary: Maybe you don’t know Jungkook as well as you thought you did. Maybe he doesn’t know you. Warnings: emotional constipation, toxic ex, internalized misogyny, jk has bad experiences w/his ex’s dad, one scene where jk throws up, brief episode of panic, mentions of terminal cancer (minor); smut; fingering, praise kink, face fucking, spitting kink, cunnilingus, unprotected sex on top of a car im sorry Misc: autoshop owner!jk, businesswoman!oc, slice of life, childhood crushes, friends to lovers, ex gfs, pining, country bumpkin pjm w/crush on oblivious oc, ex-bf kth but it’s not real lol Wc: 19.4k (wow!!!)

the spirit of auto shop jk possessed me n next thing i knew i was 11k into a drabble. if ur curious: the 1975 corvette, car at the end, the tweed suitskirt (not actually chanel ☹️sowwyyy) also: this is the longest fic I've written!!!!! clap for me!!!!! i proofread the first few paragraphs n was like thats enough professionalism for the day

inspired by ain’t no mountain high enough one of my fave songs ever�� the title is a lyric from the song bc i love it so much enjoy !!

The garage is mostly dark when you enter, the faint hum of a radio quietly filtering through the stagnant room, its source coming from the back wall, where the only light is. It’s a rolling lamp, shining down an ugly yellow glow onto the figure of one man.

Jungkook’s sitting in that same rolling stool he always is, the metal one that’s rusted beyond repair, the cushion so uncomfortably flat. He’s caught up in whatever paint job he’s been tasked with this time around, a classic muscle car from what looks like the 80’s. He’s humming along to the radio, so caught up in stenciling out his design that he doesn’t notice you creep behind him until you’re very purposefully rattling the tool cart beside him, a teasing “boo!” making him jump.

“Fuck, you scared me,” he gasps, rubs over his chest as if to check if his heart is in fact still there. You grin, brandish your bag of takeout out for him before he can lecture you on the dangers of startling people who work around very complex machinery. Instead, all he says is, “you’re an angel.”

Once you’ve got the food carefully scattered across his work bench, your cherry cola tucked next to a canister of gasoline like that’s the safest practice, Jungkook wastes no time diving into all the details of his project, the 1975 Chevy Corvette behind him. The longer you look at it, the more you feel you’ve seen it somewhere. Probably a car show, you presume.

“Purrs like a kitten,” he sighs dreamily, completely ignoring the way half his toppings slide out from the opposite end of his cheeseburger. You don’t, and you swipe a fallen pickle from his tray before he can catch you.

“A kitten?” You ask, glance over at the car. It’s desperately in need of a paint job, and you only realize this now as you stare at it more in depthly. The niggling feeling that you know this car is still there, but you ignore it in favor of indulging your best friend. “Don’t people usually compare cars to bigger, better cats?”

There’s a taped stencil running alongside the car, a thick stripe followed by a thinner one, and you suppose Jungkook’s trying to spice her up, give her back the same youthfulness she probably had in her prime. What better way to do so than by adding some classic stripes alongside it.

Jungkook hums, gulps down his soda noisily. “Not this one. Never heard an engine as soft as hers.”

You roll your eyes. For a minute, the two of you quietly chew through your burgers, the radio filling in the gaps while you analyze the car. You know this car, but you can’t remember where. Jungkook coughs into his palm, probably from trying to inhale his fries too fast like he does every time you go to the diner you’re eating from today.

The diner.

A mouthful of braces. A pretty waitress. A strict dad.

“Holy shit, this is Sojin’s dad’s car,” you inhale, the memories from high school suddenly hitting you full force. Jungkook chokes, out of surprise this time, and furiously goes to deny your claims. “This is totally his car. The one he tried to run you over with when he caught you trying to put her on the back of your bike.”

“He didn’t try to run me over,” Jungkook whines, and the tips of his ears are red from your revelation.

You glare. “Why are you fixing that asshole’s car for him?” You interrogate, the last quarter of your burger forgotten in favor of squeezing the truth out of him. You’d had enough of that treacherous woman and her equally deranged father causing Jungkook trouble, and to catch him still helping her now, almost ten years later, was enough to make a brain vessel pop.

He shrugs, avoids your eyes as he picks through his fries. The radio is still on, some tune you recognize from those old days at the diner when Jungkook had become so unbelievably smitten with the part timer that served you milkshakes every Wednesday afternoon.

He had been in love with her the moment he saw her, and the look in his eyes was only magnified by those dorky glasses he wore pre-lasik. You'd been his friend long enough, recognized the jump of his scrawny thigh beneath the table. Like a bunny, thumping in excitement at the sight of her.

Sojin was... full of surprises.

She was nothing less than a supermodel, long legs carrying her around the diner as if it was her runway. She was nice too, so you hadn’t originally had an excuse to dislike her. She was nice, and so endeared with your best friend that it was inevitable when they began dating. Her presence consumed the end of your high school careers, overtook the time that should have been yours and Jungkook’s last year before being thrown into adulthood. He decided on studying at a technical school nearby—per your encouragement to save money—while you travelled five hours out for your degree in business. That last year, when you had finally come to terms with your feelings, had been so painfully ripped away by Sojin and her never-ending list of teenage drama, and by Sojin’s dad and his overbearing need to police her and Jungkook every chance he got.

Jungkook still hung out—“Sojin was busy, do you wanna do something?”—but more often than not those hang outs consisted of Jungkook telling you about her and her dad, about how hard he tried to get into his good graces.

The bike incident had only been one of many. Times where Jungkook would put his heart—and life—on the line for that girl only for it to be in vain every time she broke up with him over the simplest things. You’d heard stories from Jungkook, all told with a tight smile, of a handshake that would bruise, a man chasing him with a bat, of a car following him to school. All things he put up with for a girl who didn’t care for him. One day, after Jungkook had grudgingly sat through an hour long dinner with her family, the stare of her father piercing through him, she broke up with him because she didn’t like how long his hair had gotten.

(If anyone were to ask you, he was handsome with long hair. Dreamy even.)

He cut it that same day.

As her childishness grew, you quickly came to dislike her. She strung Jungkook around, you thought, and just when you thought she was finally done toying with him and making his life difficult in the sneakiest ways, the damn kid started hitting the gym. His growing frame, toned arms and now straightened teeth had turned him into a heartthrob, and Sojin was just as aware of this as you were. “Don’t we look perfect together?” She’d ask, twirl around him like they were on the cover of a magazine and not standing on his chipped front porch.

Needless to say, by the time graduation had rolled around you despised the woman. You absolutely disliked how she treated Jungkook, how she let her father treat Jungkook without ever stepping up and defending him. Granted, you didn’t know exactly what went on in her household behind closed doors, you’d seen enough of her uncaring attitude to want to ram her and her dad’s head against the hood of the car.

Which is why seeing the old car, in Jungkook’s shop nonetheless, was rekindling a boiling hatred in your chest. “That man should rot in hell for all he put you through,” you huff, glare at the car like it holds some magical connection to him and he can feel the intensity of your stare.

“___,” Jungkook scolds, swirls his cup around to distract himself. “He was just trying to protect his only daughter,” he defends, quietly, like it’s what he tells himself to justify all those years of mistreatment. Even when he and Sojin had continued through college, it had never stopped. You, being five hours away, couldn’t do a damn thing. “Besides, the guy’s old as hell now.”

You snort, finally breaking your staring match with the car. Glancing at Jungkook, he’s got that same forlorn expression on his face, the one he started wearing when he first came to terms with the fact that her dad would never like him. There was a time it was stuck permanently on his face, the pressure and the discomfort that came from the father of the girl you’ve dated for five years looking at you like you were nothing more than a speck of dirt on the bottom of his shoe.

When you came back from school, educated and confident, you almost didn’t recognize your best friend. Tall and broad, tattoos splattered over his arm. Hair long like you loved it, but eyes still as round and wondrous as they’d been when you were kids. He had his own place now, he told you, and you vaguely remembered all the times he mentioned him and Sojin moving in together, mentally preparing yourself to see that wench for the first time in a while.

Much to your surprise, there was no Sojin in sight. No lingering artifacts of her presence. Nothing that showed she existed in this space besides an ugly orange mug she’d given him for his birthday one year, tucked into the very back of his cabinets. They’d broken up, he explained. Almost immediately after graduation.

After stringing him along for the better part of five years, she had decided this wasn’t what she wanted. No, what she wanted was a man ten years her senior with an abundance of cash to flow. Jungkook hadn’t cried. Hadn’t even looked the tiniest bit upset when you ordered pizza and drank some beer, watched your favorite episodes of The Simpsons like you were seventeen and avoiding your homework again.

You stayed the night, a little too tipsy to drive home. Besides, Jungkook had a spare bedroom. It was a room beside his, just a full bed with a chest of drawers. You liked it, liked the scent of him surrounding you after only seeing each other for a couple weeks in between months of distance. You liked it, because when he shifted in bed you realized the beds were pressed against the same wall, and you liked it until the shared wall spared you no secrets, and you listened to him quietly sob into his pillow.

“Old or not, he’s still the devil,” you murmur, snapping back to the present where Jungkook is wheeling himself closer to the car again. “Where did you find that thing anyway?”

He stays silent, quietly pretending like he still has something to do on the car besides paint it. Then, “I bumped into Sojin at the store.”

You sigh, drop your head between your shoulders. You can only imagine what whirlwind of a sob story she had to throw on him to win this favor.

“Kook,” you start, gauging his reaction only from his backside. His muscles ripple beneath his dark t-shirt, his usual red jumpsuit knitted around his waist. “What happened?”

Again, silence.

You say nothing, let him sort through the hurt on his own while you creep up behind him, sliding your hands over his shoulders and pressing down on the cricks behind his neck. He melts into your touch, head lolling forwards as a quiet sigh escapes him.

“She told me she was low on cash, and she needed the car to get to work,” he confesses, and from his ducked position, his voice trembles. You roll your eyes.

“And the paint job?”

A particularly rough press of your fingers has a whimper escaping him. God, this boy needed to see a chiropractor and a masseuse soon. All that hunching over and under these cars was doing a number on his back.

“I… I figured I might as well fix up the exterior too.” Of course he would, you think, Jungkook’s heart was stupidly big and easy to manipulate. He would get so swept up in it sometimes, trying to do the best he can for everyone’s benefit that he’d ignore himself.

You sit in his confession, fingers digging into his skin for a few minutes as you consider what to say.

The mature adult in you, the logical half of you, wants to hit him upside the head, scold him for letting that wench into his life again so easily. You were going on twenty-six now, all three of you, and you didn’t have time to be fixing him every time that childish woman decided to toy with him. Granted, it’s been four years since you last saw her, since you heard him muffle his cries on the other side of the wall, and you liked to think Jungkook was a respectful adult of society now. He didn’t have time to get dragged around by self-absorbed women with insane fathers.

The other part, the best friend since childhood, wants to run away. Wants to pack Jungkook into a suitcase and take him far away from here and from her. Unlike you, who now lived in the city, Jungkook had stayed in your small hometown, a quiet place just outside the bustling city. It was difficult to ensure his happiness when you were always forty-five minutes out of reach. It would be so much easier to just take him and fly to another province, maybe on the beach, Jungkook loved the beach.

“Listen,” he says, successfully pulling you out from your spiral. “I know what you’re gonna say and I just wanna tell you it’s not like that.”

You blink, hands stilling on his shoulders. Your lack of movement allows him to spin around on his chair, gaze up at you with the same shiny gaze he’s given you ever since you were kids. “I’m just doing her this tiny favor. She looked...” he trails off, face scrunching to find the words.

“Like shit?” You propose, and he smiles. “Like flaming dumpster shit behind a club?”

Jungkook laughs, loud and beautiful. You want to kiss the mole beneath his lip.

“She looked bad, okay?” He settles, reaches forward to take your palm in his. You’re standing between his thighs, and you wonder how he would have acted if you were Sojin. “Don’t think things worked out with that CEO she was dating. I’m just giving her a push.”

You sigh, try to push those crestfallen sobs to the back of your head. “Okay,” you agree, briefly glancing back at the damn car. “You fix her car, and that’s it,” you state. Jungkook nods, makes a little X over his heart. He knows how much you hate that woman. “No funny business.”

“No funny business,” he agrees, then reaches down for a white spray can. “You wanna spray some dicks on it before I paint it?”

“Please,” you laugh, taking the face mask he offers you with a grin.

—

One day your car starts making a weird noise as you pull out of the underground parking garage of your building. It’s somewhere between a pig squealing and metal scraping. You’ve been around Jungkook long enough to know this is probably something to do with your breaks, something about them being loose or old, one of the two. You have a short day at work today. There’s repairs being done to the office you work at, so everyone’s been spending more time working from home.

You leave work a little after two pm, head pounding from the hour long meeting you sat through, the mediocre business proposals your boss had asked you to look through and file. There’s a hefty load of emails waiting in your inbox, mostly the interns requesting you write them a recommendation letter. You’ll have to look through those later, pick out the good ones and write them each a unique piece kissing the ground they walk on.

The scent of freshly fried donuts hits your nose as you pull into your old town; the bakery down the road from Jungkook’s has their windows open. You can already taste the sweetness on the tip of your tongue, the iced coffee cooling your insides as you sit and watch Jungkook work on your car.

Jungkook’s shop is on the corner of the street, takes up a huge chunk with it’s massive garage and driveway; the office area is tiny compared to the sheer size of the actual work floor. There’s music blaring through the overhead speakers, and when you pull in you recognize it as Jimin’s playlist.

“Morning, Miss,” the country bumpkin says, leaning against your car door as you rifle through your purse. “What’re you in for?”

“Hi, Jimin,” you reply sweetly, take his hand as he helps you out the door. You very vaguely explain the noise your car had made that morning, glancing around the shop as Jimin gets to work inspecting it. “Where’s Jungkook?”

Jimin’s waving over some other employees, all greeting you in their matching red jumpsuits. “Kook’s in the office,” he tells you, and it’s almost sensual the way his hand glides over your palm for your keys. God, you needed to get laid. “Has some lady friend in there with him.”

You pause, the bustling of the crew behind you fading into the background. Something inside you snaps, and you whirl around the garage, before catching sight of a 1975 Chevy Corvette, almost unrecognizable from how you’d last seen it. It’s bright red now, a color you only briefly saw before you’d left the other night, with two, lightning bolt racing stripes decorating each side. It looks new, almost in mint condition, and the fact it’s still here has you storming through the garage.

Your heels clack loudly, the crew moving to the side as you torpedo straight into the offices. You barely remember to greet the receptionist before you’re stomping straight into the main office.

There’s no knock, no warning given, before you’re flinging the door open, seeing exactly what you’d expected.

“___,” Jungkook stutters, jumping onto his feet from his position on the couch. He looks frantic, wide eyes flickering between you and the woman sitting in front of him, her back turned to you. But you’d recognize that silhouette anywhere.

“Did you say ___?” She says, and she’s still as tall and as beautiful as you remember her. Had it not been for the heels you wore, you don’t doubt she’d tower over you. She flashes you a killer smile, lips carefully painted red. It almost looks murderous. “My! ___, you haven’t changed a bit,” Sojin exclaims, rushing around the couch to pull you into a tight hug. You don’t return it.

You let her cling to you for a second, before pushing her away as gently as you can by the shoulders. As much as you’d like to rip her in half, tear her apart for all she did to Jungkook, you won’t. You’re older now, elegant in all the ways you weren’t before. It would be a huge disservice to your maturity if you shoved your heel up her ass right now.

“It’s lovely seeing you, Sojin,” you smile, taking her hand in yours.

Besides, being a woman in business meant you knew better, more creative ways to strike.

“And your boyfriend?” You ask, tilting your head in staged confusion. You even glance around the office, like you’ll find the geezer hiding behind the potted plant or Jungkook’s frozen figure. “The rich one with the huge company? Did he come with you today?”

Her smile tightens, red lips pursed as she gauges you with those cat eyes that haunt your nightmares every now and then. “My ex-boyfriend,” she corrects after a minute, pastes a forlorn expression onto her features. “We’ve separated, and you know how it is for women like us,” she jests. “We need a man to push us along—“

“Do we?” You ask, think back on all those years of school, of studying and working and pushing yourself, all the time you spent investing in yourself for yourself. “I don’t think so,” you contemplate. “It’s really embarrassing if you can’t care for yourself without the help of a man. Almost like you don’t trust in your own abilities, and ride other’s coattails instead.”

A beat of silence. Two completely different worlds, and Jungkook hovering awkwardly beside you.

Two palms grasp your shoulders from behind, and when you turn Jungkook is smiling at you, forced and stressed like he can’t stand to be in this uncomfortable situation any longer. “Well,” he announces, pushing you behind him as he guides Sojin towards the door. “There was an issue with her car, so I’ll just check on it real quick, okay?”

You nod, feel empty as he takes her by the wrist, and not you. He hands her her purse, palm on the small of her back as they exit the office. When the door clicks shut behind them, you throw your own handbag at the ground, barely stop yourself from stomping like a child.

Instead, you breathe in, hold it, and exhale, just like your Tuesday yoga instructor taught you. By the time you’ve collected yourself a few minutes have passed, so you kneel down to gather your fallen lipstick tubes and cellphone from the floor, scooping them back into your purse.

Tugging the door shut behind you, you mindlessly wander down the hall, until you reach the small receptionist area and nearly get jumped by Kim Taehyung. “Holy shit, you won’t believe this,” he gasps, takes you by the shoulders and nearly shakes you until your brain falls out through your ears. You would have slapped him, had this been any other man, but he’s quite possibly the only man besides Jungkook you’d let jostle you like this. “You’ll never guess who just left the office with J—wait,” he pales, suddenly connecting two and two, your exit from said offices definitely a key factor in whatever conclusion he’s drawn. “You were in the office with Hwang Sojin and you didn’t kill her?!”

You huff, let him shake you again until you’re nearly tripping in your heels. “Yes, I know,” you groan, finally slap his hands away when you begin to feel this morning’s breakfast bubbling from all the motion. “I’m surprised too.”

“Wow,” Taehyung marvels, leans back against the receptionist desk even though the poor girl has told him time and time again not to. He ignores her, something he can do as second best friend to the boss. “Remember when she showed up crying outside his mom’s house and you threw a potted plant at her? Oh how the great have fallen.”

Rolling your eyes, you drift over to the plexiglass window in the office that looks out across the entirety of the garage floor. In the corner, Jungkook’s got the hood of the Corvette open as he works away on something, Sojin tapping at her phone beside him. “Why are you here, Tae?”

He steps beside you, tuned into the same scene. “Can’t visit my ex-girlfriend every now and then?” He teases, you groan.

“We dated for three days, dude, let it go,” you whine, and watch with rapt attention as Jungkook motions for her to start the engine. She does, and it purrs to life, soft and silky just like Jungkook said it does. She squeals and claps, launches herself into his arms in thanks. You look away.

“Yuck,” Taehyung gags and you couldn’t agree more. “Can’t believe you ended the best 72 hours of my life for that pinhead and the hussy attached to his hip.”

He shrieks when you pinch his side, and you take great satisfaction in the judgemental stare half the crew sends him through the glass. After all, they weren’t soundproof. “You embarrassed me and my brand,” he huffs, crossing his arms as the two of you return to watching Jungkook and the hussy.

“He’s not a pinhead,” you softly retort, watch him wipe a bead of sweat off his forehead as he waves her off. Sojin sends him a brigade of air kisses, none of which he catches. A sick sense of glee consumes you at the sight, but then he’s turning to stare directly at you and Taehyung through the glass, and the both of you quickly whirl away.

“His ability to find you in less than a second is so weird,” Taehyung shivers, and you ignore it, taking the candy from the bowl on the receptionist desk. She doesn’t care, having heard these conversations more than enough times to get the general gist of what you and Taehyung gossip about. You’re surprised she’s never mentioned it to Jungkook before.

Regardless, you listen to Taehyung complain about his life for a few more minutes, before Jimin’s sweet voice pops into the room. His ash blonde hair is all ruffled, and there’s something dark smeared over his otherwise perfect skin as he tells you your car is fixed. Taehyung bids you goodbye, and Jimin walks you back to your car out on the garage floor.

“All set, miss,” Jimin grins, puts a hand against the car so you don’t hit your head as you go in. You thank him, and don’t miss the way he lingers by your window.

“Is something wrong?” You ask, tilt your head quizzically. Jimin’s cheeks flush, and he looks shyly at the ground.

“Actually, I was wondering if—“

“___,” Jungkook calls, jogging over beside Jimin, who looks almost ashamed to be caught doing...whatever it was he was gonna do. Jungkook glances at him, catches him in some weird staring contest before crouching down to your window. “You needed your car fixed? Why didn’t you tell me?”

You blink, don’t know how to politely tell him he was too busy kissing the ass of his toxic ex-girlfriend to help you out. “Jimin helped me,” you smile, the same practiced expression you’ve mastered since college. You usually get by, usually trick people with that look, but not with him. Jungkook knows you too well, knows that look, and knows you’re holding yourself back. “You were busy.”

His lips part in surprise, tugged downwards with the hint of a frown. “I,” he stutters, looks at Jimin, who doesn’t seem that impressed with him either. “I… I would’ve came if you called.”

You tug your sunglasses out from their little case, slide them over the bridge of your nose as you strap your seatbelt over yourself. “Would you though?” You ask, flash him another polite smile before shifting your car’s gears. Jimin walks off, clears the path for you to exit, and with just Jungkook standing there, you speak freely. “I would hate to distract you from something important.”

—

Some of the proposals end up being better than expected, and after carefully sifting through them, your boss asks you to sit through presentations for the next few days. Your time gets consumed in graphs and budgets. There’s a multitude of businesses you have to look into, some big and well-known, and others small and local. You drive around the city one day, visiting business after business, until your ankles hurt in your heels and your cheeks hurt from all the smiling. Your only comfort is the nice Chanel skirt suit you’re wearing that makes you feel like the most important person in the room wherever you go.

By the time the week’s over, there’s a thin cut forming on the back of your ankles from all the walking you’ve done in your heels. You slump against your front door, tossing your heels in the vague direction of the closet before padding through your house.

You nearly scream yourself sore at the figure in your kitchen, hunched over what looks to be a hastily made cake with a number three candle. “Oh my god,” you seethe, turning the overhead light on to illuminate Jungkook’s grinning figure, dirty and sweaty from work. You glance at the clock on the stove; it’s only been about an hour since his garage closed.

“Surprise!” He exclaims, and you’re not the slightest bit amused when he begins humming the happy birthday song on a day that is definitely not your birthday.

When he’s done, you don’t clap and his beaming smile doesn’t waver. “It is not my birthday,” you calmly state, placing your leather padfolio on the counter.

Jungkook blows the candle out for you. “It’s the birthday of when we first met,” he explains, and gets to cutting the cake. How he remembers such a day, you don’t know. You do know that this is his mom’s birthday cake recipe, and you love that. “Can you believe it? Friends for almost three decades.”

“Almost,” you repeat, dutifully sitting across from him and taking the plate he offers. He nods at you like a bobblehead.

His eyes are sparkly and big, like he’s drunk, and it’s only then you notice the red wine on the table, bottle open and halfway done. You set your fork down, grasp the neck of the bottle in your hand. “Have you been drinking?” You ask, even though the answer stares you right in the face. You frown. “You hate drinking.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, shovels more cake into his mouth to delay his response. “Needed it,” he offhandedly explains, nearly eats the candle but you jump forward to snatch it off his fork before he can.

“What do you mean?” You inquire. You’re not hungry anymore, too interested in whatever’s going on in his head to make him think he needs to be drunk around you.

Jungkook gulps, reaches forward for more wine but you cradle the bottle to your chest. You nearly gasp when he levels you with a real, stony glare, the expression out of place on his face. “Cuz you’re mad,” he huffs. “At me.”

There was a time you would coddle Jungkook’s every mistake, never let him think he was at fault for anything. You’d grown out of it shortly before high school, recognizing boys were stupid no matter how much you tried to prove otherwise. Since then, you’ve watched him get into trouble time and time again—Sojin being the prime example—and only intervened when absolutely necessary. Some part of you, the half that hates seeing him upset, wants to tell him you’re not. The mature part in you, however, doesn’t let that happen.

“I am,” you agree, watch his eyes widen almost comically at your admission. You set the wine bottle back on the table, leaning your chin on your palm as you level him with the most unimpressed gaze you can. “I’m furious, actually.”

He whimpers, actually whimpers like a kicked puppy, and you can almost see the metaphorical ears pressed against his head and the tail tucked between his legs. His lips are big and pouty, stained from the wine. You’d love to know what they feel like.

Jungkook’s vulnerability lasts all of three seconds, before he’s shaking himself out of whatever emotional pit his foggy brain has him in. “Well, it’s dumb,” he spits, and it’s your turn to sit in shock. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Excuse me?” You ask, incredulously, because this has never happened before. Are you overprotective and sometimes overbearing? Sure. Has Jungkook ever voiced discomfort with that before? Never. “I’m not telling you what to do,” you sneer, crossing your arms over your chest.

He rolls his eyes, pushes away from the table like a moody teen. You know it’s because he’s drunk, because he’s not himself, but you have to remind yourself that he obviously felt this way somewhere in his heart to voice it to you now. “You’re not my mom.”

You choke. “I’m not!” You angrily agree, pushing away from the table as well.

Jungkook snarls, “well you sure do love acting like her.” He picks up his plate, glances over at you with a look in his eyes that can only be likened to that of a sneaky cat, and then purposefully shoves the bread and frosting down the garbage disposal in the sink. You shriek, fly around the table and shove him away.

“What is wrong with you?” You seethe, push him away rudely with a hand on his face. Jungkook stumbles back, slips on the floor and nearly cracks his head on the corner of the counter. “Oh my god,” you exclaim, abandoning the sink in favor of watching the way his face twists up at the sudden motion, stomach contracting beneath his black t-shirt, cheeks puffing. “Oh god, oh god,” you stammer, tugging him to his feet with the strength only a panicked individual about to see an entire cake regurgitated onto their kitchen tile can have.

You’ve barely kicked the door to the bathroom open when Jungkook begins throwing up, gooey vomit spewing from his mouth and onto the floor. It touches your arm, and you shriek before shoving him in the general direction of the toilet.

“Ew, ew,” you freak, shoving your hand under the sink faucet to get that gross feeling away. You wanna vomit yourself, but you tell yourself there can only be one sick person at a time, and right now it’s Jungkook.

He’s got his head in the toilet, disgusting sounds echoing off the ceramic of it. By the time you’ve calmed down and washed your arm thrice, you move over to pull his bangs away from his face, letting him hurl in peace.

“I’m sorry,” he mopes, spews another round of birthday cake into the toilet.

You look away, blindly reach out to turn the bathroom fan on. “Mhm,” you nod, rubbing a hand over his back. Jungkook nods sadly against the toilet seat.

“‘M sorry,” he repeats, gags around nothing but the gross feeling left in his throat. “I-I know you just want…” a pause as he considers throwing up some more, “...want what’s best for me.”

“I do,” you agree, wipe a hand down the side of his face that he leans into. “Not trying to be your mom,” you assure him, and he snorts.

“Be a good mom,” he murmurs, so soft you don’t hear him. You hum, leaning closer and he repeats it. “You’d be… a good mom.”

Not knowing what to do with that information, you just pat his back until he falls asleep, cheek against the toilet seat.

—

“Woah, the sexual tension in this garage is off the charts,” Taehyung blurts from behind you, and you smack your clipboard against his chest. “Oof,” he grunts, rubbing his chest like it actually hurt. “You doing finances for him again?” He asks and you nod.

In an ideal world, Taehyung would leave upon finding out you’re busy. In this world, he simply leans into your personal space, nearly knocking you into an empty tool cart. “Oooh, an extensive list of all the money Jungkook’s stupidly blown this month. How much did he spend on neon signs this time?”

You relent, showing him the shop’s finances. Anywhere else, revealing a business’s finances without the consent of the owner would be a federal crime. Here, it’s the equivalent of showing Taehyung Jungkook’s browser history. “He spent how much on window tint?!”

“A lot,” you say.

There’s a whistle from across the garage, the shop’s resident country bumpkin Park Jimin standing at the huge garage doors with his hand on his hip. “No fraternizing, please.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Boooo,” he shouts, peels himself away from you to flick an impolite finger Jimin’s way. “He’s just jealous,” he tells you, and you frown.

“Of what?” You ask, and Taehyung nearly loses his shit.

“My precious ___,” he sighs, leans his forehead on your shoulder. “So beautiful and smart, yet so slow.” You flick the side of his forehead just as Jungkook strolls by and, seeing your attack, slaps the back of Taehyung’s neck. “Why do you guys hate me!” Taehyung exclaims, jumping at least five feet away from you and Jungkook’s giggling forms.

“How’s it going?” Jungkook asks you, completely ignoring Taehyung’s soulful cries as he glances over your shoulder at the clipboard. You tilt it his way, but he stands close anyway, until you can feel his breath huffing against the back of your neck.

“Okay, but you’re spending a lot of money stockpiling on things that haven’t shown signs of running out yet,” you explain, pointing at the window tint that had astonished Taehyung only a moment ago.

Jungkook grimaces, pink tongue swiping across his lip as he looks at the total amount he’s spent the last three months. “Well, it’s a good thing I have my accountant,” he grins, throwing an arm over your shoulder.

“Not your accountant,” you correct, “just a friend who doesn’t wanna see you run your business to the ground from overspending.”

Jungkook waves you off, and Taehyung tries to sneak into the receptionist office behind you, but Jungkook catches him with his free hand. “This is the life,” he sighs, wistfully gazing over the garage floor. It reeks of motor oil and car paint.

“Count me out,” Taehyung snorts, voicing your disinterest toward such greasy and smelly work. He tries to wiggle out of Jungkook’s hold, but the muscle bunny only straps an arm around his neck, until Taehyung’s squirming and clawing for air against the red sleeve of his jumpsuit.

“My own successful business, a shitload of sexy cars, and of course,” he pauses, squeezes the two of you tighter until you’re both groaning. “My two best friends.” The sap has the gall to peck the top of your heads, and that seems to be the final straw for Taehyung who rips himself away.

“Have this lovefest somewhere else, man,” Taehyung says, flattening his rumpled clothing down. “You’re really putting a nail in my reputation around here.”

Jungkook cackles, mindlessly goes to wrap himself around you from behind. “Your reputation has been trash since that scream you let out the other day,” he informs him, swaying the two of you back and forth. Your heart thunders in your chest, and you just barely manage to avoid Taehyung’s pointed stare.

“Whatever, I’m outta here.” With Taehyung peaced out, you’re left in Jungkook’s arms, gazing over his business like two old lovers. It makes your chest tight, so you quickly go to shake him off.

“We’re okay?” Jungkook murmurs, so soft you almost don’t hear. He’s got his hand wrapped around your wrist, thumb massaging over the bone there like he’s afraid you’ll bolt the second he lets you go.

You nod, tuck the clipboard to your side. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

Those sad puppy eyes, pouty lips turned southward. You want to wipe that look off his face. He sighs, glances at where your skin meets and gives it a squeeze. “I’ve been an ass lately,” he settles on saying. “Said some mean things and ruined your bathroom rug—I’m sorry.”

You don’t know what to say.

Jungkook takes your silence as understanding, reaching down to hold both your hands in his slightly dirty ones. “It won’t happen again. I’d rather lose a million friends than lose you,” he confesses, and something about it feels too real, too raw. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You nod, the constricting feeling in your throat only tightening when he smiles at you, those gentle eyes and plush lips for only you to see. You want to kiss him, swallow him whole. Right here on the garage floor so everyone knows he’s yours.

But you can’t because he’s not.

You settle on swinging your arms between you. “Just don’t do anything stupid,” you warn him, narrowing your eyes playfully. There’s a heavy feeling in your heart, something akin to anguish, but you could never voice it out loud.

“I won’t,” Jungkook promises.

—

Jungkook visits again on a weekday, and you nearly send him straight home when he brandishes another bottle of wine in your face. “It’s nonalcoholic!” He exclaims before you can shut the door on him, foot lodged against the frame. You give in.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask, curling up on the couch in just your shorts and huge t-shirt. Jungkook pops the bottle open, pouring the wine into two limited edition Shrek 2 cups you pulled out from the depths of your cabinet.

“Can’t hang with my bestie?” He throws back at you, snatching the remote from your hands before you can click on another episode of that dumb housewives show. You end up watching National Geographic, some documentary about the role of bioluminescent shrimp in the sea.

“Aw look, they’re kissing,” he cooes at a pair of seahorses that wander across the screen halfway through a shot of some school of shrimp. “How romantic.”

“Wonder what that’s like,” you comment, not thinking too much on the meaning behind your words until you can feel Jungkook’s stare pierce your cranium. “What?”

“You’ve never been kissed?” He blurts, and you choke on your wine.

“You were my first kiss,” you remind him, flush at the memory of the two of you sitting criss-cross applesauce on his bed, knees knocking in what was probably the worst first kiss in the history of first kisses.

Jungkook blinks. “Oh yeah,” he laughs. “With the Tony Hawk poster behind my bed, right?”

“The one and only.”

Jungkook hums, and the two of you melt back into the silence. Nice aquatic sounds fill the room, the camera panning over more colorful fish that Jungkook oohs at appreciatively. You don’t really pay attention, more interested in the way the wine swirls in your cup and the way you can feel Jungkook’s thigh pressed against your knee, like when you were thirteen and trying something new.

You know it doesn’t mean a lot to him. Just another silly childhood memory of you. Not like you have hundreds, thousands of them with each other. By the way he’d blurted the question, you doubt he even remembered it most days. But you did.

It plagued your mind all the time, the soft feel of his mouth and the trembling hand that had held yours. You wonder if he kisses the same still, lips gently puckered. He’s had years to learn, half a decade to get creative with Sojin, and the past four years of being a bachelor to explore more.

You’ve kissed too, plenty of guys who had no meaning and ones you thought would replace him. But it’d been a long time since you’ve let anyone into your bed, more content to please yourself without the overbearing weight of feelings and emotions to wrap around your throat.

Jungkook coughs, and you shake yourself from your thoughts.

He’s looking at you inquisitively, like he can’t get his usual read on you and would rather just ask what’s wrong. “You don’t,” a pause, “hang out with guys?”

It’s devastatingly cute, the way he asks if you’re fucking, and you want to pinch his cheeks. Instead you shake your head, try to hide the grin on your face from his inquisitive expression. “Just you and Taehyung,” you admit.

Jungkook nods. “Do you and Tae…?”

You shake your head furiously. “No! God no, we don’t do anything like that,” you clarify, the thought of Taehyung in your bed enough to make you want to gag.

Jungkook says nothing, just turns back to the documentary to watch more Nemos and Dorys flit across the screen. You polish off your cup of wine, leaning forward to settle it back on the coffee table. As you settle back into the couch cushions, Jungkook speaks again. “So you take care of yourself?”

You freeze.

“Yeah,” you admit after one complete meltdown in your head. Where was this coming from? Why did he want to know? You and Jungkook were close, but you never did this. You never divulged the details of your sex life, never bragged about who you slept with or how many there were. What was going on?

Jungkook doesn’t say anything after that, just turns his attention back to the tv screen, where you’re almost certain the sea horses from before are fucking. Not that you know what it looks like, but you hope at least someone in this room was enjoying themselves and not drowning in the mortification of having their life long crush ask them if they masturbate.

“So, do you use your hands or a toy?”

You choke, slap your chest to ease the pounding of your heart at Jungkook asking such a question. “E-Excuse me?” You ask, scandalized that Jungkook, your sweet and caring childhood friend turned Fabio, could ask you such a bold question about your personal affairs.

“What?” Jungkook says, like he truly doesn’t see the inappropriateness of the situation. He even raises his eyebrows at you, as if urging you to answer the question.

You sigh, fight the flush of your cheeks and stare idly at the cups on the table. “A toy. Hands don’t feel good,” you curtly reply, crossing your arms over your chest and straightening your legs off the couch, hoping that’s the end of his curiosity. This was enough to fuel your 3am anxiety meltdowns for the next five years.

Jungkook nods, and you can feel his penetrating gaze on the side of your face again. A great white shark swims across the screen. Jungkook strikes. “My hands feel good.”

“Jungkook!” You exclaim in horror (and excitement, but you’ll pretend it wasn’t there). “What has gotten into you?”

“What!” Jungkook defends, Bambi eyes looking at you like you’re the unreasonable one here. “We’re having a civil conversation in which I’m trying to open up your worldview.”

You’re flabbergasted. “This is not a civil conversation, what are you even talking about?” You scold, tug your arms around yourself like it’ll actually protect you from the words that don’t seem to be filtering out of his mouth properly. “Why are you so concerned about that?” You interrogate, hope your forceful tone will scare him away.

It doesn’t. Jungkook shrugs, some noncommittal i dont know sound. “I can’t be interested in what you get up to? What my best friend gets up to?” It’s the obvious emphasis on best friend that makes you step down.

“No,” you sigh, rub a hand down your face. “You can be interested,” you tell him gingerly. “We just never really… talked about... those kinds of things,” you rush out, turn away from him as the narrator on screen dives into the intricacies of bioluminescent shrimp in the animal food chain.

As if sensing your discomfort, Jungkook softens, scooting closer to you. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, too close and too warm. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he says, places a palm on your knee.

“I’m not!” You rush to assure him, facing him head on again. His eyes are big and implorative still, and you wonder why he became stuck on that of all things today. “It just surprised me.”

His lips quirk to the side, an unsure grin that has you leaning into his shoulder. You sit in silence, the rise and fall of his body with every breath lulling you into a sense of comfort.

A false one that Jungkook zeroes in on.

The documentary’s wrapping up, soothing ocean sounds and wind instruments playing as the credits roll across the screen, when the hand that had been laying so comfortably on your thigh inches up. At first, you don’t notice it, writing it off as Jungkook just shifting around. You tell yourself it’s just that, until his pinky makes contact with the end of your shorts.

Slowly, you turn towards him, catch his mocha irises lustfully lidded as he toys with the hem. “Kook?” You murmur, so soft, barely there.

“Hm?” He replies, continuing to play with the edge of your shorts, until he gets brave and his fingers slip beneath, index finger just barely grazing the panties underneath. You gasp. “This okay?”

Stuck between your arousal and your common sense, you flounder for a response. He’s so close, and smells so good, curls brushing against your temple the closer he gets. You want him so bad, want him to find his place between your thighs and put those pouty lips to use. But you know it’ll make things different, change whatever it is you’ve had for the past almost thirty years, and you’ll never bounce back. Another brush against your panties, pointer finger wiggling it’s way beneath the fabric, and you’re choking out a “yes.”

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and something in your core tingles at the name, thighs clenching together. “Uh uh,” he chides, nudges them open. “Stay still for me,” he commands, and you do, for all of ten seconds, but then he’s pressing his finger on your clit, panties and shorts muting the sensation. Still, it makes you squirm, fingers clutching the couch cushion beneath you as you struggle to keep them open. “Too much?” He asks, and you shake your head no.

“I-It’s fine,” you whisper, and Jungkook smiles.

He pets you, almost wondrously, for a few beats, watches the way the muscles in your thighs twitch with every press against your mound. Eventually, he decides it’s enough. “Hands don’t feel good for you?” He inquires, your words from earlier obviously having left their mark on him. Slowly, you shake your head. He glances down at the fist you have on the couch, composed features sliding up your face. “Well, yours are so small, princess. Of course they don’t feel good.”

He manhandles you around, tugs you onto the couch until you’re laying down, legs sprawled on either side of him. Pleased with the arrangement, Jungkook glances back down to your bottoms. “These have to go,” he tells you, hooks his fingers in the waistband and abruptly yanks down, leaving you just in your t-shirt.

You go to shy away, but Jungkook stops you, palms resting on the insides of your thighs, thumbs pressing into the skin soothingly. “My fingers are long, see?” He says, raising a hand to wiggle his fingers at you. You nod, heartbeat thundering in your ears. “They’ll feel nice inside.”

You know they will.

You can tell he knows his way around a woman’s body just from the way his hands glide over yours, carefully like he’s mapping you out. Ever so slowly, one hand grows closer, until his thumb is gently circling your clit, and you inhale sharply.

“So wet,” Jungkook hums, his other hand traveling further down, until he’s spreading your pussy lips with two fingers, trailing them through the arousal that gathers there.

You’ve never been so attentively cared for, never had a man zero in on your cunt like it was his first meal in ages. Jungkook’s eyes are clouded with lust, tongue peeking out from between his lips as he watches your pussy lips flutter at his touch.

He swirls his hand over your clit, pressing down. The first sound escapes you, a soft whimper that has you clamping your hand over your mouth in embarrassment. Jungkook grins down at you, shifts closer to press a kiss to the knuckles over your mouth.“Don’t hide from me,” he purrs, pulling away and pressing a kiss to your neck.

You cry out when he gets back to it, massaging your pussy with gentle hands and a thumb against your clit to placate you. “Jungkook,” you choke out, and he beams at his name, takes it as a sign to finally slip two fingers inside. “A-ah,” you whine, arching beneath him.

He basks in your noises, leans close again to press a kiss beneath your ear, against your jaw. “This okay?” He murmurs, curling the fingers inside of you. You mewl, throwing your arms around him as he begins working you open. “How does it feel, baby?”

“G-good,” you pant, turn your head until you can bury your nose in his hair, drown even more in his all-consuming aura.

Another kiss to your neck, before he’s suctioning his lips right below your ear, nipping and sucking at the skin to brand you his. “You like my hands?” He husks, and the patch of saliva he leaves on your neck feels cold without his mouth there. You nod, and Jungkook rewards you with a soft smooch over the hickey he’s left.

His fingers inside you curl and scissor, brush against every inch of your walls until you’re quivering beneath him, gasping his name out. You could melt if his fingers weren’t holding you together. “So tight,” he groans, curling his fingers. The movement touches upon something sensitive within you, and you moan his name loudly.

“O-Oh,” you pant, wiggling beneath him as you try to feel that again. Jungkook lets you, watches you desperately rut into his hands. He drifts away, lets his tongue mouth over your breasts, licking until there’s a damp spot on your t-shirt, the flimsy house bra you’d worn and the t-shirt combined not enough to hide your pebbled nipples.

The drag of his hands against your pussy isn’t enough, the motions not quick enough. Jungkook glances at your twisted features, your quivering pussy, and then, ever so gently, ducks over you, puckered lips letting one, long glob of saliva touch down on your pussy, trickling around his knuckles.

“Fuck,” you choke, watch his tongue swipe over his lip to break the thin bridge that connects you too. Suddenly, everything is smoother, the combined lubrication of your arousal and his spit making the glide of his fingers sinfully slick.

Frantic for release, you lose yourself in him, ready to free fall into your pleasure so long as Jungkook is there to catch you. “That’s it,” he encourages, picks up the pace of his fingers inside you. “Come on, beautiful, let me see that gorgeous face of yours when you come.”

“K-Kook,” you sob, and he smiles against your neck. His fingers work fast, until your muscles are all pulled tight, waiting for that final push to unravel. You make the mistake of glancing down, only to be caught by that pearly smile and adoring gaze. You’re in heaven, you know you are.

There’s no other explanation for this—the way Jungkook holds you like you’re his, hands so gently caressing your most intimate parts. You’re almost convinced you’re having a fever dream, a sick, too realistic dream, but then Jungkook’s biting down on your shoulder through your t-shirt, subtly rutting against your thigh.

“Cum for me,” he purrs against your neck, and you do, sobbing as your orgasm rolls over you, the heavy weight of his cock against your thigh. “Jungkook,” you cry, so pitifully, it has him lunging forward, a kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth.

You feel sweaty and gross, unbelievably tired from the gentle way he opened you up. Blindly, you reach down, feel the hardness of his cock beneath his sweatpants, but Jungkook nudges you away. You huff. “Let me,” you whimper, reach for him again even though you can see the slowness in your movement. “Need your cock in my mouth,” you drawl, almost sleepily.

“Shh,” he soothes, lips pressed against your neck, where he’s still licking and sucking over every inch of you. You whine. “You don’t have to do a thing, gorgeous,” he assures you, “just wanted to make you feel good.”

—

Work gets stressful shortly after. There’s a new batch of interns coming in this season, new faces who will mess up your coffee orders and jam the printers for a good few weeks. There’s normally a team of employees who train them, a mix of relatively older people from different departments who show them around; a girl in the finance department, the one who usually trains them, is on maternity leave. With no one else to fall back on, the head of the department pushes the duties off on you, claiming your flexibility and work ethic make you the perfect candidate for such a role.

Normally you’d thrive at the praise, eat up every single word like it sustained you. In a way, it did. It was nice to be appreciated and recognized for your hard work, to be thought of so highly, especially in a male-dominated company. However, this time, you know it’s out of convenience that the head kisses up to you, and you end up begrudgingly taking the role.

The gaps in your schedule you’d normally spend relaxing or catching up on other projects are filled with bumbling interns, calling for help every chance they get. It’s like they’ve never done anything on their own, this group, always asking you the correct way to do this, the right way to do that. You haven’t mentored interns in a while, so you spend the first day breezing over old powerpoints and print outs you made years ago. You remember why you’re not fit for mentoring when one of them asks you how to navigate Excel. You nearly rip their head off.

There’s so much going on, you barely get time to see Jungkook, let alone text him. You saw him once the morning after, stack of pancakes on your kitchen table as he rushed you off to work. The shop didn’t open for another hour. He was sweet, kissed your forehead as you left, but he’s always done that. You didn’t have time to talk about whatever the night before was, or what that made the two of you now.

On Friday night, one week into your nightmarish role, you pull into the shop. You'd like to convince yourself it was routine, visiting the shop, but that’s a lie. You desperately miss Jungkook.

Most of the garage doors that are usually pulled open during the day are shut, save for one. The last of Jungkook’s employees are leaving, bidding you adieu as you step out of your car. Park Jimin is there, repairing some rickety car in the back corner.

“Boo,” you call playfully, and Jimin doesn’t flinch, merely pulls his head from out of the hood to flash you an easygoing smile.

He whistles at the sight of you. “You look like you’ve been through one of helluva week,” he says, and you, despite your strong personality, feel yourself blush at his comment. Jeez, did you look that bad? Jimin doesn’t elaborate, just pulls out a stool for you to sit on beside where he’s working. “Penny for your thoughts?”

You glance at the plexiglass, the offices hiding down the hall. Jungkook could wait, you presume, settling down beside him. Your skirt tugs up as you settle onto the pleather seat, so you cover your legs meekly with your purse. “Work’s been crazy,” you explain, and Jimin laughs at the obvious.

“You’re telling me,” He hums, and you roll your eyes playfully. “What’s going on at work?”

What hasn’t been going on, you think to yourself, before launching into a full retelling of your new horrendous position, of all the interns with their clueless eyes and useless notebooks. Jimin chuckles, indulges you in a few comments here and there that only fuel you on. He’s just about done with whatever he’s doing to the car at the same time your story wraps up, explaining how you found yourself here, desperate for Jungkook to whisk you off to that arcade you loved as kids. “Jungkook?” He asks, and you nod. “He left a while ago.”

You freeze. “Huh?” You say, dumbly. You almost want to laugh at your own impulsiveness, for showing up without sending him a text or a warning to let him know you were coming. You almost do laugh, but then you remember you and Jungkook never did that anyway. Hell, he showed up at your house a few weeks ago unannounced and drunk. The two of you were hardly the type to plan ahead, so it was weird for him to not be here. He’s been at the shop almost every night since it’s opened, the days he’s not usually a holiday.

“Jimin…” you begin, glancing at the receptionist window once more. “Where’s Jungkook?”

Jimin shuts his tool box, kicking a cart off to the side. “He left with that lady,” he tells you, doesn’t hear the way your heart rips straight out of your chest. No way. “Tall, pretty. Had that nice Corvette he fixed up a while ago.”

“Sojin,” you mumble, and Jimin nods.

“Think that was her name.” As if sensing your tumultuous thoughts, he steps closer, one hand reaching out to steady you. “You alright?”

“God,” you exhale, pushing yourself away from Jimin and the garage and the window. The stool rolls away, almost hits the side of another car but Jimin catches it. He rushes over towards you, watching you wobble in your heels.

“Honey,” Jimin says, steady and warm beside you. “Sit down for me, yeah?” He guides you to a row of seats against the wall, nailed into the floor so you can’t push them away and make even more of a mess. Not that that’s your concern, your mind and heart too preoccupied with thoughts of Jungkook lying to you, going out with that woman again, despite your obvious hatred for her and his promise to you.

Jimin disappears, rushes over to the other side of the garage before returning with a water bottle for you. He cracks it open, presses it into your hands, and then against your lips when you don’t move. “Drink,” he encourages, watching you with worried eyes that only grow more and more concerned the deeper you fall into your thoughts.

You want to cry and beat Jungkook up at the same time. You want to scream at him for lying to you after treating you so nicely, holding you so warmly. Instead, you gasp for breath, clutching your face in your hands like it’s the only thing that grounds you.

There’s a beep outside, chirpy and cute in the way only older models are, and you whip your head up, the headlights of the Corvette painting you in shades of yellow as it rolls to a stop, the tears you hadn’t felt glistening under the light.

Jungkook flings himself out of the driver’s seat, and a sob catches in your throat when Sojin steps out of the passenger seat. Jungkook shoves everything in his path to the side, carts flying into the few automobiles on the floor, tools clanging loudly onto the cement, and just as those arms you love so much are reaching out for you, there’s a hand on his chest stopping him.

“What did you do to her?” Jungkook snarls, pushing Jimin roughly to the side. Jimin, smaller but not weaker, holds his ground, clutching Jungkook by the material of his jumpsuit a second time. “Let— go!” Jungkook shouts, finally worming away from his employee.

He nearly trips before you, stumbling to his knees as he takes your quivering hands in his. “What’s wrong,” he asks, throwing a nasty glare back at Jimin who watches silently from the side. Sojin is still by her car, leaning across the driver’s side now. “What did he do, what did he say?”

You shake your head, dropping your head to tuck your chin against your chest. You hate this. Hate letting him or Jimin or Sojin see you cry. It’s not the person you are, not the self-made woman you claim to be as you cry over the same man who is unknowingly defending you from himself.

“Let go,” you whisper, hoarse and choked. You shake your arms, but he doesn’t let up.

“Tell me what's wrong,” Jungkook pleads, inching closer to you. His breath is warm and he smells like oil, just like he always does. He also smells sweet and floral in a way only a woman could. He smells like Sojin.

You sob, rip your hands away from and scurry blindly towards Jimin, who catches you in his arms despite the shock that paints his face.

Jungkook watches with an expression of hurt, watches you snuggle into the arms of another man over an issue you won’t tell him about. Jimin says nothing, just rubs his palm over your back. He gestures towards the red corvette, the woman standing by it and Jungkook takes the hint.

You hear the kitten-like purr as it pulls off, the silence that follows afterwards. You don’t know where Jungkook is, if he’s here or if he left with her, and you don’t want to. “Tell me he’s gone,” you beg Jimin, quiet gasps against his neck.

He nods, slowly lets you untangle yourself from his arms as the two of you stare over the empty garage. The Corvette is gone, and so is Jungkook. Before Jimin can tell you where he is, you’re wiping a hand over your face, embarrassed at the moisture it comes back with.

“I take it he’s not supposed to be with her?” Jimin tries to joke.

Neither of you laugh.

You sniffle, process what just happened, how you acted. You’ve never felt that way before, never experienced such brutal heartbreak.

You don’t know what you expected from Jungkook. In your heart, you convinced yourself what happened in your apartment was the start of something new between the two of you, a natural result of your long friendship. Realistically, you know you should’ve waited until the two of you spoke, discussed whatever happens next. But you’d spent the past week comforted by the fact you’d finally gotten to experience something like that with him, daydreaming about him every chance you got.

Somewhere in your mind, you had convinced yourself your involvement with him would finally be what broke his connection with Sojin, the final nail that would make him forget about her. It’s painfully funny how such wasn’t the case.

Jimin breaks you out of your thoughts. “You okay to drive home?” He gently inquires, and you turn your gaze over toward your car.

Did you trust yourself to make it home without shedding a single tear? Absolutely not. But between Sojin and Jimin, you had let enough strangers see you fall apart over a man tonight.

“Perfectly okay,” you tell him.

—

The interns pick up on your sour attitude the week that follows. They don’t ask dumb questions, and don’t mess up your order. You talk them through a presentation, show them how to properly organize finance charts. There’s a slide that has clip art, a goofy dollar sign with a smile and shoes. Jungkook put it there when you first made the PowerPoint. After the little lesson, you go to the bathroom and try not to cry.

A week later, and the interns don’t need you anymore. They do well, and your boss praises you for being such a good mentor. You thank him and he lets you go home early.

Home is empty. Jungkook doesn’t show up unannounced, mostly because you’ve changed the number lock on the door. You want to eat salad today, for some reason, but don’t have any of the ingredients for it, so you walk to the supermarket a few blocks away.

The supermarket feels the same as it always does at night. That ghostly feeling of being watched in an empty aisle, the scratchy tune of whatever Top 50 radio station they settled on today. You get there and decide you don’t want salad anymore, so you buy ingredients for a stew instead, all of which you probably had at home.

When you step outside, the air around your bare thighs is cold. Summer was ending, which meant Jungkook’s birthday was coming up. You ball the receipt in your hand and fling it at the trash. You miss, so you hobble over to pick it up.

The trash is beside a red Corvette with two racing stripes.

“Hey,” Sojin says, arms crossed over her chest as she walks up behind you, sizing up your crouched form beside her car. “What’re you doing to my car?”

You breathe in, shake the crumpled up receipt at her, before stuffing it in the garbage. She says nothing as you stalk by her, and you’re back on the main road when she pulls up next to you, window rolled down to speak to you. “Get in,” she gestures, “it’s gonna rain.”

“No,” you say, and a fat raindrop falls right on your nose.

The door unlocks and you climb in, plastic bags crowded by your feet.

The drive is silent. You only live a few minutes from the store, and you point out an empty spot by the sidewalk for her to pull up to. A dry thanks is on the tip of your tongue, but you never get to say it.

“My dad has cancer,” Sojin says.

“That sucks,” you respond, feel bad right away and say, “I’m sorry.”

Sojin doesn’t seem bothered by it, shifting the Corvette out of drive and cutting the engine. “He’s probably not gonna see Christmas,” she adds, and you don’t know what to say. You don’t care about her or her crazy father. “I wanted to do something nice for him before he, y’know.”

“Died,” you fill, and at that she glares.

“Yeah,” she huffs. “Before he died. So I fixed up his car. But the place I took it to didn’t know how to fix an engine so old, and ended up fucking it up even more.” You nod, she continues. “Then I bumped into Jungkook and—“

“Took advantage of his kindness,” you finish, remembering the twinkle in his eyes when he’d told you about their encounter, that day in the empty garage that seemed lightyears away. “Well congrats. Hope your dad liked it,” you sigh, push open the door and get soaked to the bone immediately.

“Wait!” Sojin calls, hopping out after you. She’s still as beautiful as she was when you were seventeen, even with rain soaking her entire being. “I didn’t ask him to repaint it, but that’s what my dad loved the most.”

You want to go inside, make your stew, and cry in it.

Sojin doesn’t seem bothered by the bangs that stick to her forehead or the water that washes down her spine. “When I told him Jungkook did it… he wanted to see him. Apologize and stuff.”

You snort. “Apologize,” you repeat, tightening your grip on your shoppings bags. “For what, Sojin? For almost killing him with this car or for treating him like shit for five years?” She says nothing, stares at the hood of the car like she doesn’t know what you’re talking about. “He was crazy for you, you know that? He would have done anything for you and not once did you stand up to your dad for him. You let that man call him worthless, stupid, a waste of space. And for what? For you to break up with him for some rich asshole who would never treat you half as good as Jungkook did?” You sneer.

The rain feels cold and your groceries feel heavier, so you whirl on your heel and make for your building entrance.

“He never liked me,” Sojin calls out, and you wonder if she even heard the second half of your emotional outburst. You turn to face her with fire in your eyes, and are only a little surprised at the sadness that paints hers. “He never liked me the way he said he did.” You could knock her teeth out.

“You’re stupid,” you spit, and she rounds the car at an insane speed until she’s glaring down at you over her perfectly sculpted nose.

“He never liked me,” Sojin repeats angrily. “He was always busy looking at you—for approval, for attention, I don’t fucking know. He would hold me and touch me but it never felt real. It always felt like practice for him…” she sniffles and your breath hitches in your throat. “We dated all through college,” she says like you don’t know, like you didn’t stress about it for years. “Everyday closer to graduation felt like a ticking bomb. Like he was just waiting for you to come back. To come home.”

You remember it.

The excited texts he’d send you everyday, the plans he made for you. Jungkook was more excited than your parents about you coming home. The five hours had done a number on him, and after four years all he wanted was to have you close again. You remember the hug in his driveway, the way his mom had told you he’d waited all day for you. It’s weird hearing it from Sojin.

Too overwhelmed, you decide to deflect. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you murmur, and you’re surprised she hears it over the pouring rain.

A loud scoff. “You’re stupid,” she repeats back, jabbing a finger at your chest. You glare, and so does she. Like two animals in a cage you size each other up. “You’re stupid and ugly and I hate you,” she spits, and you drop your shopping bags to lunge at her.

You don’t swing, just grab her by the shirt and move to slam her against the wall, but she’s tall and a little strong, bony fingers wrapping around your wrists like spiders. “Why can’t you see how much he likes you?” She screams, like it hurts to admit it. “He’s been in love with you since forever, and all you’ve ever done is run away!”

“I never—“ you gasp, pushing her away from you. Sojin stumbles, but she doesn’t fall. “I’ve never run away,” you defend, heart beating in your chest too fast to be normal. “Some of us have careers and lives we want to live—I don’t want to depend on a man for the rest of my life!”

She growls, tugs at her wet hair like you’re giving her a headache. Stomping up to you once more, she pushes you hard with both hands, and you barely catch yourself in time. “He would have followed you to that fucking fancy school, but you told him it was better to save money here! Told him to not waste his time and just settle there! You did this to us—to all of us!”

You choke. Lightning flashes behind her, and for a moment all you can see is your gentle prodding, sitting behind him as he filled out applications, big wannabe business brain telling him the easiest way to save money for his auto shop was by going straight into technical school. The small frown on his face that day you’d packed for college, and the way he’d stood in your parent’s driveway until you couldn’t see him anymore, a little spec in your rearview mirror.

Sojin, sensing she’s made her point, says nothing. She scoops up your fallen grocery bags and shoves them into your trembling hands, stomping back to her car and pulling off with a roar, loud and ferocious, and nothing like a kitten.

The groceries in your bag end up in the trash.

—

Taehyung invites you to lunch one day, and you go. You’re starving and desperate to get away from work, where you’re paranoid everyone knows there’s something wrong with you. You meet up at a cute little bistro, and he smiles and hugs you when you arrive. You sit in comfort for all of two seconds before he jumps into his interrogation.

“What’s going on with you and Kook?” He asks, casually flipping through the menu. Your hand stills around your glass of water, and you eventually set it down without ever taking a drink. Your mind instinctively maps out a lie, but Taehyung has known you a while now, knows the quirk of your lips when you’re about to lie your ass off. “Don’t lie to me. I haven’t seen you at the shop in almost a month. And he doesn’t go out,” he mentions. “I think he spent four nights at the shop before I made him go home.”

You deflate.

Too embarrassed to explain, you flip through your own menu, and when the waitress comes you order the first words your eyes focus on. Taehyung doesn’t push you, just patiently gazes out over the bustling street.

Finally, you break. “We… did a thing.”

“Uh huh,” he nods, reading some ad on the side of a bus that passes by. “Need you to elaborate, babe.”

You squirm. “We… fooled around,” you say for lack of more appropriate wording. There’s a family sitting beside you, and you’d rather die than let some nooby pre-teen listen to the details of yours and Jungkook’s night.

“You fucked?” You choke, make a loud sputtering noise like it’ll drown out Taehyung’s voice to the other patrons. “What’s wrong with that? We all knew it’d happen sooner or later,” he shrugs.

“No,” you seethe. “We didn—I didn’t.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, the same way Sojin did that day on the sidewalk. You almost throw your glass of water at him. “We…” you sigh. “We did a thing, and then the week after he went out with Sojin.”

Taehyung scowls at the mere mention of her, so the glass of water is returned to its coaster. “Really? He went out with her right away? He’s cancelled.”

You nod, rubbing your hands over your face. “He… her dad has cancer and is literally on his deathbed so she wanted to fix up his car for memories sake, which he loved, so he wanted to apologize to Kook and thank him for fixing up his car,” you rush out, and now Taehyung chokes, water spewing out of his nose. You shriek, drawing everyone’s attention as you pat down your soaked blouse. “Tae!”

“I’m sorry,” he cries, wiping at the sting in his nose. “He-she, what?!” You ignore him, focus on battling the damp spot on your blazer. “God, that’s crazy,” Taehyung snorts, winces at the feeling in his nose.

After the two of you have settled, the manager kicks you out for your inappropriate conversations and childish behavior. You leave with your tails tucked between your legs. Taehyung holds your hand as he walks you back to your workplace, you quietly fill him in on all the other details surrounding yours and Jungkook’s fallout, from your breakdown in the garage to your weirdly dramatic confrontation with Sojin. “Well,” he claps, slamming a hand down on the traffic light button, even though both of you know it doesn’t work. “That explains a lot of things.”

“Yeah,” you agree, pushing down the crosswalk when the light finally changes of its own accord. “Do you,” you pause, feet glued to the sidewalk. “Do you think she was right?”

Taehyung glances back at you, so small and unsure in the midst of a bustling crowd. He smiles, sweet and soft. Rare coming from him. His free hand ruffles the top of your head, and he brings you into his chest. “Babe, the hottest guy in your grade was intimidated by scrawny, pre-muscle bunny Jungkook. I’m pretty sure he feels some type of way towards you.”

Your lip wobbles dangerously, and you bite down on it to stop. Taehyung pats your head, barks at some old guy when he yells at the two of you for standing in the middle of the sidewalk.

When you’re outside your office, you speak again. “You were not the hottest guy in our grade, by the way.”

Taehyung snorts. “I totally was.”

—

You hideout for the rest of the week.

On Friday night, you finally have the balls to show yourself again, and you hop on the highway leading out of the city before you can overthink it. The buildings slowly melt away, replaced with cozier homes, tinier shops, and by the time you’re pulling up the street, you’re deep in doubt again.

It’s not that late yet, only a little past sunset, but the garage doors, usually open to the street, are all shut. You frown, pull around the block, reverse into a spot across the street. Locking your car, a gust of wind nearly trips you as you cross the street. The front office is dark, metal shutters pulled over the entrance.

Eventually, you stumble around until you find the tiny backdoor squeezed beside some dumpsters, grateful for the key Jungkook had given you so long ago.

Just as Taehyung predicted, a pair of red jumpsuit clad feet stick out from beneath a car. A nice car, an even older Corvette than Sojin’s dad’s, still shiny despite the model it is. It looks like a show car with the way it glints at you, black paint almost glossy. The only light in the entire garage is a lamp, positioned over the area where the legs are working, and a flashlight that occasionally beams at you when the holder loses his grip. No music today, just the hum of a rotating fan. You creep over.

Jungkook’s humming a song when you get to him, foot tapping idly on the ground. You suck in a deep breath and nudge his foot with the tip of your heel. You have exactly two seconds to jump away when he abruptly rolls out from beneath the car, concentrated features scanning quickly around until they land on you.

The garage is still, until Jungkook jumps into action. “___,” he stammers, stumbling to his feet. The rolling board drifts away, bumping into the corner of the metal table beside you. “Hi, um,” he flounders, brushing his fingers through his hair, palms wiping over the front of his pants. Finally, “hi.”

The bad bitch Chanel skirt-suit you’d worn today fails you for the first time in a long time. Your hands feel sweaty, so you clutch them behind your back. “Hi, Jungkook,” you exhale, and all the emotions you’d swallowed for so long, the feelings that tightened around your chest and throat like boa constrictors, come oozing out, until all you can see is his puckered mouth and twinkling gaze.

He coughs, tries to casually lean against the car, but greatly miscalculates the distance. “What, um, what brings you here?” He asks, foot tapping nervously against the ground.

There’s a box of takeout on the floor he tries to subtly kick beneath the car, and a plastic bottle of soda that makes a loud noise when he tries that too. You twist your lips, watching the anxious shuffling of his feet. You breeze over his question, plaster a tight smile into your face, and ask your own question; “how long have you been here?” Tentatively, you lower yourself onto a rolling stool. “It’s late,” you state the obvious.

Jungkook’s leg bounces, and he pats his hand over it nervously. “Um, an hour? Just working on something,” he answers, cheeks warm as his eyes flicker everywhere but you. “What brings you here?” He repeats, and you know you can’t deflect it this time.

Shrugging half heartedly, you wait for him to finally look at you. When he does, he almost looks away but the glint in your eye stops him from doing so. “We need to talk,” you finally say. Jungkook visibly deflates, lips pulling into a thin line. You contemplate letting him relieve his thoughts first, but you came here with a point to make, for questions that needed answering, and you’re scared one word from him will wash them all away.

“Listen,” you start, smoothing your hand over the edge of your skirt. “I know something weird happened between us, and then I kinda freaked out on you, but… I need you to tell me the truth.”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate. “Always.”

You swallow, try to push back the frustration that builds in his throat. “Did you ever even like Sojin?”

Jungkook blinks. “Huh?” A snort. “You’re joking,” he snickers, wipes at faux tears in the corner of his eyes, before your unsmiling face registers and he’s schooling his features. “___, I did like her. I dated her for five years. How could I not like her?”He says seriously, like he can’t believe you would ever question such a thing.

You exhale, pick at your fingernails. “I met her,” you admit, and Jungkook’s face twists in confusion. “At the supermarket last week. She said you never liked her.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Of course she’ll think that—we’re exes. I doubt she remembers all our best memories,” he sighs, turning back to organize his tool cart like he’s done with this conversation.

Raising to your feet you call his name again, and he hums absentmindedly. “Sojin said you never liked her because you were always chasing after me,” you accuse, laying all your cards out on the table. Your claim startles him, and you watch as he jostles half the tool cart with his surprise.

“She, what?” He huffs, cheeks as red as his jumpsuit. He forces out a laugh, airy and tight like you’re starring in your elementary school play again and the nerves are eating him up. “I-I don’t know why she’d say that.”

He’s flustered, obviously so, as he scoops the metal tools back onto the cart, bumping into three other things before settling back down on the floor to roll under the car. He pushes himself under, and you sternly call out, “Jungkook.” He freezes.

You strut over, brush your hands behind your skirt as you crouch beside him. “Always,” you quietly remind him. Jungkook says nothing. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve grossly misread the situation, if this was just another one of her schemes to drive the two of you apart.

Slowly, Jungkook appears from under the car. There’s a new stain on his cheekbone, brown and slick. He sits up, wide eyes tracing over your features likes he’s trying to seal them in his memory. “Yeah,” he admits, lips twisting as he watches the surprise take your features, before he’s lolling his head back to stare at the ceiling, leaving you to stare at the column of his neck.

“I do,” Jungkook admits, pushing through his emotions. It’s hard for him to confess, you realize, watching the way his Adam’s apples contracts and his jaw twitches from having to say so. “I like you so much it hurts.”

His confession leaves you feeling weird. On one hand, you want nothing more than to spring yourself on him and kiss his face until the stray oil marks are gone and replaced with the outline of your lipstick prints. You want to smother him and hold him, let him know he’s yours, always has been.

On the other hand… it’s sad. Going on thirty years and never did the two of you guess your feelings for each other. You doubt either of you are good at hiding them, with the way everyone seems to have known except you two. Maybe you don’t know Jungkook as well as you thought you did. Maybe he doesn’t know you.

A hand touches your knee, and you return your attention to his downtrodden appearance, chin tucked against his chest. “Please,” he murmurs. “Say something.”

You say nothing.

Tentatively, you reach a hand out, run it along the side of his head, through his mane, chocolate waves touching his cheekbones. He almost looks like when you guys were kids, round eyes watching your every move. Your hand continues down the back of his head, cupping the nape of his neck comfortingly. Jungkook leans into the touch, even though his shoulders are tense. You soothe your fingers over the tight muscles in his neck.

“Since when?” You inquire.

Jungkook blinks, lets your palm trace along his jawline and cup his cheek. “Since you dated Taehyung when we were sixteen.”

Mentally, you curse every deity in existence for putting Kim Taehyung in your life. “God,” you groan, burrowing your hands in your palms. Jungkook, surprised by your reaction, rolls closer, moves around until you’re crouched between his long legs. “Since me and that pinhead dated for twenty minutes?” You repeat.

Jungkook shifts closer, rubs your back. “It was 65 hours, actually,” he corrects, and the exact duration of your relationship makes you cringe. “I… counted.”

Small and shy, almost embarrassed. You glance back up at him. “Why?” You prod, and Jungkook’s cheek flush, palm stilling.

“Uh,” he starts. “I was nervous? That you two were in it for the long run. And I, I don’t know. It was easier to just count,” he lamely finishes, and his dangly earring whips around with him when he avidly avoids your gaze.

You sigh, catch his hand in yours. “Tae and I would have never lasted,” you tell him, remembering all the times the guy made you pick him up from one night stands in the last few years. “He wasn’t who I wanted.”

His foot jumps, toe tapping against the wheel of the car next to you. He wants to ask, you know he does, but Jungkook was quite possibly the only other person on this planet who could overthink something more than you.

Deciding to ease his worries, you give his hand a squeeze. “It was you,” you confess, feel like an elephant lands straight on your chest. “It is you,” you correct.

His forehead knocks against yours, hard, and you hiss at the bump that probably forms. “What the fu—“

“Tell me it’s not temporary,” Jungkook pleads, eyes crinkled in worry. You’re going cross eyed from trying to look at him like this, so you flit your eyes off somewhere to the side. His hand is heavy in yours. “Tell me you’re not just doing this for closure, or because you want to see what it would have been like, please,” he begs, “that would be so fucked up, because I’m so in love with you I actually think I might die.”

The dramatic confession makes you painfully warm. You nod, your lower lip trembling at the way he looks at you, like you single-handedly controlled this entire world with a flick of your wrist. “I-I love you too,” you parrot back, the first time you’ve ever said it, the millionth time you’ve ever thought it.

Jungkook visibly relaxes, pulls away from you to drop his head on your shoulder instead. Your legs are starting to cramp from the tight crouching position, ankles wobbly in your heels. His hair smells good still, despite the hours he’s probably spent beneath a car, and you gingerly pat the back of his head.

“I love you,” he murmurs, and you repeat it. “I love you,” he says again, and you repeat it. “I lov—“

“Me, yes, I’ve heard,” you cut him off, smile at the snort he releases, and when he turns his head, his lips brush against your neck. You’re instantly thrown back a few weeks, to that night on the couch with the limited edition Shrek 2 cups and the wine; the gentle touches that left you trembling for weeks. You inhale quickly, grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing him away.

His eyes are too soft, face too relaxed as he stares at you. “My legs hurt,” you tell him, quickly getting up. You whirl around, facing the car and digging through your purse like you suddenly have something to do.

“Oh,” you gasp, watch two arms wind around your waist, the dirty red jumpsuit contrasting against the tweed material of your high-end Chanel jacket. Jungkook sighs lovingly by your ear, snuggles his face into your neck. “W-we should go out,” you blurt, nerves jumping when he squeezes tighter, burrows closer. “To celebrate!”

Jungkook hums. “Yeah?” His voice is too low. You’re in trouble. “Celebrate what?”

You squirm, breath catching in your throat when he presses you closer against the hood of the car. “Um,” you shakily exhale, hands splaying out over the sleek surface of the black hood to steady yourself. It’s so shiny you can almost see your reflection. “U-Us!” You finally manage to exclaim.

A kiss against the side of your neck, and your spirit just about exits your body. Your knees feel weak, and you're just about ready to throw another mediocre excuse his way, when something warm and wet traces up the column of your neck. “Kook!” You gasp.

“Shh,” he murmurs, deep voice instantly soothing over your nerves. His hips nudge against your behind, and you jump at the bulge that presses against your lower back. One hand unwraps from around you, gliding down your arm sensually until he’s trapping your fingers on the hood of the car with his own. A swift kiss against your ear. “You owe me, remember?”

You flush, remember the filthy promises your list-addled brain has spewed that night at your house, the almost erratic development of your thoughts as you became consumed in the thought of him. Reminisce on the prod of his fingers against your cunt, his hot breath against your ear.

Suddenly, Jungkook whirls you around, traps you with his gaze as two hands flutter to rest on the small of your back. He’s looking down at you with those lovesick eyes, hooded with lust as they trace over the dip of your Cupid’s bow. “You’ll do that for me, won’t you?” A soft brush of his mouth against yours, pouty lips guiding you through a kiss, until you’re sighing against him, and he’s pulling away.

Numbly, you nod, almost hypnotized by the soft smirk that overtakes his features as he pushes you down, watches you sink to your knees before him. The concrete feels cold and hard beneath your knees. His jumpsuit is knotted around his waist, and you shakily unravel it, the elastic waistband staring you in the face afterwards.

“Take your time,” Jungkook croons, hand coming to rest on the side of your face, knuckles brushing over your skin delicately.

You tug it down, and one flash of that underwear band has your nerves flying out the window. You shove his t-shirt out of the way, let your hands trail over the ridges of his abdomen in your haste. He helps you by tugging it over his head. With that gone, his black boxers stare you in the face, and you yank those down with no hesitation.

“Jesus, baby,” Jungkook chuckles, though it’s choked off when you grasp his engorged cock in his hand. You should be surprised, marveling at the sight, considering it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him like this. But you brain is working overtime, too immersed in the vein that runs alongside it and the tip that throbs back at you. Later you can worship it, you think. Right now, you needed it down your throat.

The tip is flaming and swollen, his cock still growing plump in your hold, your hands slowly dragging up and down the length. You lean forward, press a gentle kiss below the mushroom head, trail kisses down the length until you're meeting your knuckles, and trail them back again. Jungkook sucks in a tight breath, leans to rest his palms on the car behind you, as he watches you on him.

A head of precum escapes, and you lunge for it, swirl your tongue in and around the slit on his cock, until his entire body tenses up. “Fuck,” he grunts, watches you ease his cock into your mouth. You groan at the stretch, the drag against the corners of your lips making your eyes roll backwards. “___, baby, a little more?” He asks, voice hoarse as he watches you sink down further on his cock.

You comply, close your eyes and focus on relaxing your throat. There’s a hand on the back of your head, impatiently pushing you down his length. “Shit,” he cries, unconsciously ruts against you. You gag, and he shushes you with a caress against your cheek. “Sorry,” he huffs, “just a little more for me, okay?”

Eyes squeezed shut tightly, you let him push you down until his cock hits the back of your throat and you can’t take anymore. The prod against your throat has tears springing to your eyes. “Gonna move now,” Jungkook announces, thumb brushing away the tears that collect in the corners. “Be good.”

He drags himself out, your saliva coating every inch of him, and when just the tip is resting on your tongue, he shoves back in. You whimper, palms digging into his thighs. Jungkook brushes a hand down your hair, soothes you for all of two seconds before he’s pulling out and doing it all over again. He picks up the pace, loses himself in the feeling of your hot mouth around him, tongue dragging over his cock.

The feeling in your throat burns, each thrust of his hips against your mouth making your jaw more and more sore. But god, it feels good to have him so close, his scent swarming your sense, groans like music to your ears. You want to please him, want him to feel as good as you did at your place. You want it even more now that you know how he feels, know he’s probably thought about this before.

A brutal thrust has you gagging, throat contracting around his length. “Shh,” Jungkook sighs, the fingers buried in your hair flattening out to run over your head. “Doing so good for me, beautiful.”

You bask in the praise, let a hand flutter down to the apex of your thighs, pressing down to relieve some of the pressure. Jungkook groans, rolls his hips against you and keeps you there for a second. Your throat spasms, his dick pressed hotly against it, and you feel your panties grow embarrassingly sticky. Eventually, he draws back out.

“You like this?” He hums, rutting against you faster now, nose brushing against the sparse hairs on his pelvis with every slam of his hips. You nod around a gag, eyes clouding with tears, lips slippery with saliva and precum. One particular thrust is so hard, it nearly sends you knocking back into the car, Jungkook’s hand on the back of your head barely saving you. “Fucking hell,” he spits, “look so pretty with my cock shoved down your throat, princess.”

You moan around him, feel a subtle twitch against your tongue before he’s pulling himself out. “Shit,” he cursed, pushing you away as he goes to grab his own dick in his hand, tugging at it like a madman. “Wh-Where?” He asks, and you stare dumbly at the sight of him playing with himself, almost don’t realize he’s asking you a question.

You take too long, scramble for words too long, and even if you did have one your throat is far too sensitive yo answer. Jungkook grows impatient. Pulling you closer by the collar of your Chanel suit jacket, tugging it open until the flimsy buttons snap, and the tank top you wore beneath comes into view. He aims the tip of his cock towards your sternum, and a few jacks later, he’s coming, cum spurting against your chest. You watch the cum trail down between the valley of your breasts, until the feeling comes to rest against the inside wire of your bra, sticky and gross, sliding along the underside of your boobs. “Shit,” Jungkook repeats, eyes furrowed over you.

Your knees ache, and you nearly trip when you stand up, steadying yourself against the side of the car. Jungkook seems to regain his sense by then, hand trailing around your waist. You meet his eye, and almost immediately turn away, the blood in your face rapidly rising.

Jungkook laughs. “Don’t get shy on me now,” he teases, gets too close and your noses bump. “Sorry,” he smiles, too shiny and bright for the sinful acts you just committed in an auto shop.

“Put your dick away,” you huff, let him nuzzle closer to you, and when he doesn’t move to tuck himself into his pants, you go do it for him.

Jungkook frowns, swats your hand away. “This dick has places to be,” he informs you, and you scoff.

“Refractory period,” you remind him, and he rolls his eyes.

“Well I’m not exactly gonna stick it in you this instant,” he drawls. “Gotta stretch you out first.”

You go to complain, tell him he doesn’t have to over exert himself. Truthfully, with Jungkook you feel like one good session was enough to sustain you for weeks. After last time, your skin had flowed for an entire week. But then his hand is slithering up your backside, sneaking under your skirt to grab a handful of your ass.

There’s quickly drying drool collecting at the corners of your mouth, saliva from when he’d fucked your throat just a few moments prior, that he kisses away. His mouth slots over yours, and your heart and pussy both flutter at the kiss.

It’s gentle and sweet for all of ten seconds, his mouth moving against yours until you feel the wet press of his tongue against your bottom lip, tracing along until you open your mouth. He wastes no time shoving his tongue past your lips, letting it dance with yours as he pulls you closer, hands gripping the globes of your ass. You let him lick his way into your mouth, more and more saliva catching in the corners of your mouth until he’s pulling away with a wet pop.

He pulls away, doesn’t stray too far, proud smirk crossing his features at the sight of your slicked lips. “You liked that, didn’t you?”

“Huh?” You ask dumbly, tongue mindlessly swiping over your lips.

Jungkook’s eyes track the movement. “The saliva,” he clarifies. “The spit. You liked it at your place too,” he reminisces, moving in on you again. “Liked watching me slobber and spit all over your body. Isn’t that right, baby?”

You blush, discreetly rub your thighs together. “I-I do,” you admit, willing the warmth of your face away because at this distance he must certainly feel it.

Jungkook nods, doesn’t say anything else as he captures your lips a second time. He doesn’t bother with the gentle prodding anymore, jumping straight into tongue right away. He’s messier, letting his saliva coat your lips and drip down your mouth, and as messy as it is, you love it. You whimper when he pulls away, but gasp when his hand tugs at the hair by the nape of your neck, pulling you back until you’re looking up at him.

“Open,” he murmurs, and you do, tongue pressing against your bottom lip.

It should be disgusting, the rev of his throat, the sound of his saliva collecting, and the way his jaw shifts when he’s got enough. It should be filthy, the way he shoots it down your open lips, the way it splatters against the back of your throat. It should be gross, but god do you love it. “Swallow,” Jungkook commands, and you do, feel his spit drip down your throat like it’s your own, whimpering at the feeling. A quirk of his lips. “Good girl.”

You have to bite down the pride that grows in your chest.

Jungkook’s hands continue their mapping out of your behind, eventually ending with a hard squeeze that has you squealing. Automatically, your back arches in surprise, breasts pressing against Jungkook’s chest. He smirks down at you.

“Bet you taste good,” he says, pressing a kiss against your cheek. “Let me taste?”

“Please,” you beg, nearly losing your shit when he lifts you up onto the car, the cool metal making you jump, heel on your foot nearly kicking the side view mirror clean off. “Wait, Jungkook,” you sputter, glancing down at the sleek metal. “This is someone’s car.”

Jungkook ignores you, pushes your legs apart to slot himself between them. His palms run up your legs, over your thighs, until they’re toying with the hem of your skirt. Mocha eyes glance up at you, as if daring you to question him again, so you promptly zip your lips shut. The skirt goes, ever so slowly, over your thighs, bunches up at your waist until he’s staring at your lace panties.

He presses a kiss against the inside of your thigh, nose faintly brushing against your skin. The kisses trail over your skin, until he’s hovering over your panties, and he’s staring like a man starved. He gives no warning, suddenly leaning down to press his mouth over your party-clad folds, nose flush against your clit. “Kook!” You squeak, hands flying to clutch at his hair.

Jungkook mouths at you, drags his tongue against your panties until they’re soaked in both your essence and his saliva, just how you like. A hand slithers around your leg, wrapping around until he’s got a firm grip on it that he uses to hold it open.

“J-Just take them off,” you gasp, squirm when his mouth moves towards your clit, lapping against you. “Please,” you cry.

He doesn’t.

Jungkook tortures you with those kitten licks, muted through your panties, until you’re begging him to stop, to take them off and do it right. He loves it, you can tell, dazzling smile peeking up at you every time you tug against his hair, until finally, he’s had enough.

The underwear comes off, dangling uselessly by your ankle, and then the show really begins.

“Wait,” you choke, head falling back against the hood of the car when he finally gets his mouth on you, suctioning his lips around your swollen clit. The niggling reminder that this is some stranger’s car he’s eating you out on rings in your brain, and perhaps that’s what makes it more exciting.

His mouth is warm, tongue flicking over your sensitive bud like it’s candy and he needs the sugar. The sounds are so loud and wet, the squelching of your pussy every time he pulls off a pop that resounds throughout the garage. He pampers your clit for what seems like hours, switching the movements of his tongue every time he gets the chance until you’re quivering.

When you think he’s done, he’s not.

Fingers slide up your thigh, featherlight, as they reach your drenched cunt. They drag over your lips, and you mewl, feeling the muscles jump and tighten at his touches. “Jungkook, please,” you moan, rolling your hips against him, but it’s hard and everytime you move, you feel the sweat on your skin weigh you down, glued to the metal beneath you.

The first finger breaches you, just the tip of his index slowly wiggling inside. You muffle a moan in your palm, and Jungkook pulls away with a huff. “No hiding,” he warns, slowly lowering back to your cunt with a stern glare. You nod, but can’t help it when his second finger pushes its way in and you bite down on your knuckles.

“Oh,” You sob, body quivering as he begins scissoring his two fingers inside you. With your attention focused on the digits sheathed inside you, he pulls away from your clit, bestowing one final kiss against it that has your foot kicking out wildly. “Th-there.” His other hand catches your palm in his, presses it against the metal by your head.

Jungkook smiles, curls his fingers around until he finds the soft spot inside you that turns you to jelly. “There we go, beautiful,” he purrs, pushing himself to his full height, leaning over your trembling form. “So sweet for me,” he sighs, licks his lips like he’s remembering your taste.

“I'm gonna,” you choke, become hypnotized by the dark cloud in his gaze, the arrogant smirk on his lips. He curls his fingers, palm brushing against your abandoned clit. The touch makes you jump, nerves tingling.

“Cum for me,” he encourages, silky tone swarming your head as your pleasure slowly washes over you. It’s probably the most relaxed orgasm you’ve had in your entire life, his low voice and delighted eyes guiding you through it, until your entire body clenches, dissolving in a puddle of contentment. Your arousal surges around his fingers, trickling down onto the metal.

“Oh, Jungkook,” you pant, overwhelmed from the touches and the kisses. Jungkook’s smile gets swallowed by your greedy mouth, desperate for more kisses now that he’s made you feel like this.

The kisses only placate him for so long, and when he presses his body against yours, there’s an awfully hard cock that slides against your dripping cunt. “Think you can go again, gorgeous?” He murmurs against your jaw, nipping at the skin on the way down. You nod, eyes falling shut at the warmth you feel in your bones.

Jungkook kisses your neck one last time, before leaning back once more to line himself up.

This was a scene straight from your teenage fantasies, a dripping, shirtless Jungkook at full mast between your thighs, looking at you so lovingly. It makes your heart thunder, imagining how long you could have been doing this if you weren’t both so stupid. As if reading your thoughts, Jungkook rubs a palm over your thigh, eyebrow quirked. You nod his concern away, squirm closer until the tip of his cock nudges against your hole.

“Fuck,” Jungkook sighs, moving his hands to your hips as he slowly pushes in. His fingers, bless their intentions, could have never prepared you for the size of Jungkook’s cock, thick and veiny as it pushes inside. You whimper, clawing at the hands on your waist that stop you from impaling yourself on it fully. “Waited so long for this.”

“Then fucking do it,” you beg, nearly pass out when he shoves in harshly at your tone. “J-Jung—“

“I got you, baby,” he assures you, jostles you until you’re flush against his cock, clit brushing against his pelvis. Your back arches, and Jungkook slips his arm around you, the other lingering on your waist.

Every subtle shift has him brushing along your swollen clit, and you sob at the sensation, begging him to move. He complies, changes his stance to make it easier, and finally begins thrusting into your throbbing pussy.

“So good,” he huffs, eyes zeroed in on where the two of you meet. You would have looked too, if your body hadn’t felt so completely boneless beneath him, the grinding of his cock sending shocks of pleasure up your spine. “So pretty and mine.”

“Yours,” you choke, heart swelling in your chest at his words. It’s almost animalistic, the way he ducks down to bite at your neck, like some animal staking its claim, and you like it. You like it because it’s all you ever dreamed of for so long. “Faster, Kook,” you urge, wrapping your arms around him.

He does as you say, slow and careful thrusts transitioning into a fast piston that would have had you bouncing out of his reach if he wasn’t holding you so tightly. “Fuck,” he chokes, lost in the way you clench around him, lips dragging against his cock with each thrust. “Baby,” he grunts, sweat trailing down his temple, eyes furrowed shut. Eventually, his head falls into the crook of your neck, his weight pressing down on you uncomfortably, subtle ridges on the hood making you ache. At this point, you’re too far gone to care. “All I ever wanted,” he gasps.

You could cry, right now and he’d pull out right away, big heart fretting over your emotional well-being. Which is exactly why you hold your emotions in, let yourself get fully immersed in the feeling of Jungkook pounding you against some stranger’s car and not the inevitable emotional crash you’ll have later.

He fucks like he’s waited all his life for this, and you guess he sort of has if what he’s saying is true. You have no doubt it is, and when his lips suck a mark against your neck, you feel like you’re in heaven. “Almost,” you pant, legs wrapping around his waist tightly. Jungkook nods, his hair tickling your jaw and neck, as he picks up the pace. Your cunt swallows him up every single time, suctions him in until he’s shaking, and so are you.

It can only last for so long, your heart and body eventually reaching their peak, and you unravel. His arms are there to catch you, to pick up the pieces and hold you together. You want to cry, you really do, and when the coil in your stomach snaps, you finally do. “I love you,” you sob, and Jungkook shudders, glances at your tear-struck face to push himself off.

“Love you too,” he mumbles, grinds his cock against your spasming folds one last time, and comes mid-thrust, cum spurting inside you. He holds you, just like you knew he would, as you come down from your highs, hot breath fanning across your skin.

You feel warm, loved, and in love, body trembling in sensitivity afterwards. He’s pulled out since, soothingly rubbing a hand against your side. You’d like to say you wouldn’t be anywhere else, but one shift reminds you of where you are.

“Shit,” you groan, taking in your surroundings before letting your head fall back against the hood. Jungkook hums, round eyes looking your way. “We really just confessed and had sex on some stranger’s car.”

Jungkook snorts, leans away just the slightest to look you in the eye. He’s lost in thought, chocolate irises swirling as they drink you in. “Say thanks to Taehyung,” he finally says.

You roll your eyes, and when you shift beneath him, your sweaty skin sticks uncomfortably against the metal hood. “Yeah, let me thank Taehyung for dating me for three days and awakening your crush,” you huff sarcastically, resigning yourself to your new life stuck against the hood of some classic automobile from the 50s. Jungkook laughs, tucks himself back into his underwear. “Thanks Taehyung, for your noble sacrifice ten years ago that allowed me to fuck Jungkook on some stranger’s car—“

Jungkook hums, snuggles closer to you. “Tae’s car.”

“—after confessing our—Taehyung’s car?” You shriek, sitting up with the strength of three football players, Jungkook toppling off you. “Oh my god. No.” Jungkook rubs his elbow where he knocked it against the hood, looks at you with solemn eyes. Slowly, a smirk crawls over his features. “No,” you gasp, mortification crawling up your spine. “We didn’t.”

He tugs you off the car, tugs your skirt down when you wobble on unsteady heels. “Yup,” he says, pops the end of the word like a child. “Say hello to Taehyung’s new car!” He exclaims, patting the hood you just defiled. “Straight from the car auction he went to this morning,” he beams.

“Oh my god,” you groan, covering your face with your hands when you finally spot the puddles of... something on the black hood. “This is terrible.”

Jungkook ignores you, wipes up the mess with some napkins from his takeout bag, but there’s already some that's dried, only fueling your mortification. “Not like he’ll find out,” he shrugs, then narrows his eyes at you. “Or will he?”

“No!” You stutter, carefully rounding the car as if inspecting it for any more signs of the treacherous things you and Jungkook did on or around it. “I-I won’t tell him.”

“Uh huh,” Jungkook teases, settles on that rolling stool and pushes himself towards you. There’s a hand easing itself around your waist, tugging you between open legs. Still in shock, your hands flutter around his neck, muscle memory causing you to immediately begin massaging the skin there.

Jungkook sighs into the touch, eyes falling shut. “Too bad Jimin’s not here,” he sighs, and you visibly see his nose grow in arrogance.

“What? Why should Jimin be here?” You ask, pushing your fingers against the knots in his neck.

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed, one-eyed glare. He scoffs, “maybe you are as dumb ad Taehyung says.” And then, “hey!” when you tug his ear. He isn’t upset, just tugs you closer until his face is buried against your stomach. “You know country folk like him marry on the spot right?”

“What are you even saying,” you huff, burying your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging his head back to properly look at him. “Why do you care who Jimin marries?” He doesn’t bother answering.

Instead, Jungkook sighs into the touch, an easygoing smile thrown your way, and for a moment you forget about the trauma Taehyung will have when he inevitably learns about this. “This is the life.”

#goldenclosetnet #ksmutclub #networkbangtan #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #jungkook fic #mine

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glowing-blue-feathermage · 2 years

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I was tagged by @tea42 and @plisuu, and I'm late at filling this out hahah. Thank you for tagging me!!

I tag @imperatrixvini @doomhippy83 @dalish-rogue @rusted-pipe-of-wisdom and anyone else that feels like sharing. <333

Favorite color: TEAL. I have such strong feelings about this color. My whole bedroom is painted a dark teal. Great color, 10/10

Favorite food: Cheese. This leads to my other favorite thing: Pizza. I could live off pizza but fortunately for me I don't haha

Song stuck in your head: I do not currently have one, but a song I always get stuck in my head when I hear it ...and wait...have stuck in my head now because I'm thinking about it, is "Save Me Now," by Billy Idol.

Last thing you googled: "best sorc build for eso". The namesake of my Hero of Ferelden: Solanara Amell, Breton sorceror.

Time: all we have to decide is what to do with it

Dream Trip: oh goodness. I'd love to go on a history tour of England, Scotland, Wales, Ireland and France. Specifically lol

Last book you read: Last one I finished was called "Station 3", by Paul Cooley. Quality horror-sci fi creature book.

Last book you enjoyed reading: See above haha

Last book you hated reading: Last book that made me actively mad was "Alien: Sea of Sorrow" because the previous novel that set this world up was SO GOOD. Then this novel was just inarguably bad. I couldn't finish it, which sucked because there aren't a lot of books in this franchise so I was ready to devour it. *cry*

Favorite thing to cook/bake: There's a mushroom pasta dish that I make that I'm always experimenting with. And banana bread, as no matter how many bananas I buy and how much commitment I have to eat them all, I never do.

Favorite craft to do in your spare time: I'm going to claim that writing is a craft. It's my passion and the thing I spend much of my spare time doing! (or...thinking I should be doing haha)

Most niche dislike: W E T W O O L. I hate it. I hate the way it feels to pick it up. I (no joke) have to take wet wool socks out of my washing machine with tongs. BLECH

Opinion on circuses now and in history: Circuses in the past were pretty awful at times. Now, it's a valid career.

HOWEVER

At circuses you find CLOWNS. Clowns scare me.

Do you have a sense of direction and if not what is the worst way you ever got lost:

I generally do have a good sense of direction. I can navigate through most of the metropolis where I live by knowing where the river is. Worst 'being lost' experience I ever had was on a hike with my parents as a kid. Lost in the woods for four hours.

#ask game #makes me happy to be included in these things!#I'm such a nerd lol

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backtothestart02 · 2 years

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We Met on a Train - 7/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: I integrated this song into this chap, b/c I'm obsessed w/ this version of Cinderella lately, and it's been stuck in my head! Enjoy! lol.

...

Chapter 7 -

Barry and Iris shared a look. Barry could see Iris silently panicking that they hadn’t even discussed a meeting before joining everyone else that would’ve taken place at the very least months prior, other than just a few days ago. Unlike Iris, who knew very little about Barry up until this point though, Barry had learned a lot about Iris, and he felt confident about how to proceed.

And it had nothing to do with either of them.

“How about you tell us how you guys know each other first?” Barry asked, directing his question to his mother with a brief glance to the West’s.

Nora’s jaw was on the floor, so Henry took the lead, patting his wife’s hand.

“Your mother bumped into Joe at the grocery store. There was uh…a bit of an incident with-

“Dropping a watermelon on the floor,” Joe and Nora finished simultaneously, chuckling a bit.

Barry and Iris raised their eyebrows, amused.

“And then we bumped into each other again, do you remember?” Nora asked Joe.

“Ah, yes, I had too many bags in my hands, and your mother graciously opened the door for me and picked up a couple of the bags that had fallen to the ground on my way to the car.”

“Sounds like a meet-cute,” Iris murmured.

Barry’s eyes twinkled, as he looked at her.

“So, when we ran into each other again,” Joe said. “This time at the bank with no problems whatsoever…” He waited for Nora to finish.

“We decided to get together – with our spouses – and have lunch.”

“How…quaint,” Iris said.

“And the rest is history,” Henry chimed in, frowning a few beats later. “Though I see Cecile wasn’t able to make it. What a shame.”

“Ah yes, her daughter – our…other daughter,” Joe amended quickly, “is sick unfortunately, so she stayed home to tend to her.” He paused. “Joanie.”

“I hope Joanie feels better soon. She seemed like such a…sweet girl the one time I met her.” Nora nodded her sympathies, but even Iris could tell the word ‘sweet’ hadn’t come out naturally, and with good reason.

Joanie was anything but sweet. Fiery was more accurate. It was something she shared with her on occasion – except when it was directed at her father, of course.

“Well, Wally is here,” Joe continued, setting his hand on the back of his son’s chair. “Our son.”

“Your son,” Wally muttered, confusing the Allen’s.

“I don’t-”

“Our turn!” Iris interrupted before Henry and Nora could ask any more questions that might ruin the cheerful vibe they were going for on this pre-Christmas get together. “Why don’t you tell them, babe?”

She turned to Barry, who was taken off-guard. He quickly shut his mouth though and cleared his throat.

“Ah, yes, of course. We, uh, we met in Coast City at the Jitters there. Iris was on lunch break, and I was just leaving. I bumped right into her and spilled my coffee all over her fancy new outfit.” He winced.

“And then I asked him out,” Iris blurted, her heart eyes directed at him seen from every angle across the table.

“Wow,” Wally drawled. “He must’ve been quite a looker then.”

Iris rolled her eyes.

“He was so adorable, apologizing and offering to buy me a new drink and a new shirt. I suggested we go shopping together, and he could make it up to me that way.”

Joe and Wally shared a look.

“Shopping?” they asked, deadpanned.

“Mhmm.” Iris nodded, smiling brilliantly. “And the look on his face every time I stepped out of the dressing room…well, I knew he was a keeper.”

Nora was enraptured by their story-telling.

“Did he hold all your clothes too?” she asked.

“All my shopping bags?”

Nora nodded.

“Yes, he did.” She chuckled. “And he didn’t go near my coffee.”

Henry and Nora chuckled. Wally and Joe managed faint smiles.

“You’re sure you didn’t meet on the train over here?” Joe asked when the laughter had quieted down.

Iris’ eyes bulged.

“Dad.”

“It’s just a question,” Joe said innocently.

“It’s okay, Iris.” Barry squeezed her hand. “I’m sure, sir. We met a few months ago, but we did bump into each other on the train.”

“I’m confused. I thought you already knew each other.”

“Oh, we did. We’d been dating, but we both planned on seeing our families separately, and then we ended up on the same train.”

“You didn’t know you were going to the same place?” Nora asked, curiously.

“We hadn’t really talked that in depth about our families yet, Mrs. Allen,” Iris said.

“Oh, it’s Nora, dear, please.” She smiled, and Iris smiled back.

“Have you been with each other at all, since you were on the train?” Joe asked, and Iris sent him a glare.

“Dad. This is not an interrogation. You’re with friends and family, not on the job.”

Silence descended.

“You’re right,” he finally said, talking slowly. “I must just be confusing your story with someone else’s.”

He sent his daughter a glare of his own and took a sip of the eggnog in front of him.

“Well, why don’t we eat?” Nora suggested, smoothing over the tension rising in the room. “I spent a lot of time cooking – Henry helped. It’d be a shame if you went to waste.”

“Of course,” Joe agreed. “It looks wonderful, Nora – and Henry.” He smiled, then met his daughter’s gaze. “Why don’t we eat up and talk more later.”

Everyone started to move as dishes were passed around the table, and the little conversation that happened after that was light and surface-level and non-accusatory. Iris was grateful, though she dreaded the inevitable conversation that she’d have with her dad once they returned home.

She tried to focus on eating the delicious food instead and sharing space with Barry. She wished the two of them could run away from here and just be together instead of facing all these questions and togetherness, but then she’d have to deal with the fact that she was dipping her toe into a relationship again, as opposed to just pretending to be in one.

It was all too complicated to think about, so after a while she excused herself for the restroom and Barry excused himself to help her find it, since she hadn’t been there before – and hadn’t thought about that fact before she left.

Joe watched Barry like a hawk until he’d exited the room and was mildly annoyed when Barry shut the door behind him on the way out.

“Everything alright, Joe?” Nora asked, nudging him slightly.

“Hmm? Oh, yes, yes, of course. I just um…I feel like I’ve seen your son before.”

“Before this week?” Henry asked, curious.

Joe nodded. “Maybe before those two were even together.”

“Huh,” Henry and Nora said.

Joe shook it off and smiled complacently.

“I’m sure it’s just my memory playing tricks on me again. It’s stressful around the holidays.”

Nora chuckled. “Now that I can agree with. Just putting the lights up around the roof last night had Henry cursing up a storm,” she confided.

“Hey!” Henry barked.

“I could hear you from inside the house, darling.” She patted his hand.

“It’s hard to put those lights up when it’s cold and windy,” he muttered.

“Of course.” She smiled, then looked around at everyone’s plates. “Dessert?”

…

Barry found Iris sitting on the bottom step of the stairway heading upstairs, sniffling, and his heart nearly gave out. He came to sit beside her and wrapped his arm around her, pressing his lips to the side of her face. She curled into him and snuggled close.

“This is a bad idea, Barry.”

“What’s a bad idea?” he asked, and she sighed.

“You know what…us, pretending. My dad is gonna give me the third degree when we get home, and I don’t know if I can just lie to him. I have a good poker face, but his is better.”

“So, don’t go home. Stay here until it’s too late for him to have been up. We’ll figure out what you say to him in the morning together.”

She nibbled on her bottom lip.

“Barry, I don’t know…”

“Hey.”

He tipped her chin up, so she was looking at him.

“Don’t bail on me now.”

She sighed.

“I just…feel like I’m suffocating in here. Like I’m gonna pass out if I have to keep talking to our families together, and God, I wish my dad wasn’t a detective right now. I hate how he’s been interrogating you.” She frowned. “I hate it.”

“I can handle him. Don’t worry about it.”

She shook her head slowly.

“How can you be so…confident? And sure? And…not freaking out like I’m freaking out?” She laughed painfully.

“Because, Iris, no matter what I have to deal with between our families and your dad especially, it’s worth it if I get to spend time with you.”

“Barry…”

“I want to break out in song right now.”

She laughed. “What?”

“It’s true. I want to sing a song of how amazing and beautiful and smart and magnetic you are, and how lucky I am just to be near you. I want to spin you around this room in a waltz, so you can feel yourself floating off the ground. I want you to look into my eyes and know you’re falling in love, even if it’s all in act to make me feel better. I can deal with the hard stuff, Iris. It’s losing you before I’m ready to that I can’t handle.”

Her lips parted, and he dipped his head down to kiss her.

“God, you take my breath away.”

She squeezes her eyes shut, imagined him singing and dancing with her and almost felt herself floating right then. He was intoxicating to be around in the best possible way. It wasn’t hard for her. It was easy, and it felt like the beginning of an epic romance, if only she’d let it.

Before she could let herself get down in the dumps again about not letting it, she felt Barry get up and saw him extending his hand out to her.

“Are we going somewhere?” she asked.

“It just started snowing,” he said. “Let’s take a walk.”

A million questions raced through her mind, but instead she took his hand and stood beside him.

“Okay.”

He helped her slip into her jacket as they got their winter jackets and shoes on, and then they slipped outside the front door without telling a soul about their departure. They walked hand in hand around the block, and by the time they came back, Iris felt herself absolutely glowing with warmth and love. She had no objection whatsoever to him sneaking them into the backyard instead of going in the front door.

“Have you ever seen Cinderella?” he asked, wrapping one arm around her waist and clasping his other hand in hers with their arms outstretched.

“Which one?” she laughed, moving with him as they danced slowly in circles.

“Rogers and Hammerstein’s. 1997. Brandy.”

She giggled.

“Of course. It’s only my favorite version.”

She fluttered her eyelashes unknowingly and gazed deeply into his eyes, practically willing him to sing the song filtering through her mind at that very moment.

“Do I love you because you’re beautiful,” he sang, “or are you beautiful because I love you?”

She gasped softly.

“Am I making believe I see in you a girl too lovely to be really true?” He continued to sing. “Do I want you because you’re wonderful? Or are you wonderful because I want you? Are you the sweet invention of a lover’s dream or are you really as beautiful as you seem?”

“Maybe I’m imagining you,” Iris said, quoting Cinderella’s lines. “And maybe I’m imagining you too.” She hesitated a moment, then faced one of her biggest fears as a child and opened her mouth to sing. “Am I making believe I see in you a man too perfect to be really true? Do I want you because you’re wonderful or are you wonderful because I want you?”

Barry joined her again, singing as he spun her around.

“Are you the sweet invention of a lover’s dream or are you really as wonderful as you seem?”

They came to a stop, breathing heavily.

“You sound so beautiful, Iris,” he said, bringing her gloved hands to his lips to kiss. Then, risking everything he met her eyes. “I lo-”

The backyard lights switched on, and they turned, startled, to see everyone they’d left behind staring at them through the large picture window.

“Is this the part where I run away because the clock has struck midnight?”

“No.” He half-waved to their audience. “This is the part where we go stand on the front porch, and I kiss you under the mistletoe.”

She turned to look at him, and his dashing smile, and let him lead her out of the light to the front of the house. They walked up the steps, and sure enough hanging over the front door was some mistletoe.

“Now where was I?” He grinned, then snapped his fingers. “Oh, I remember. Iris. I-”

She pulled him down to kiss him, too afraid of what it would mean if he really said the words.

As soon as they broke apart, the front door swung open.

“Time for games!” Nora announced.

Iris shyly ducked her head, and Barry squeezed her hand as they stepped back inside.

“What’s first?” Barry asked. “I’m team Iris!”

Heat flooded her cheeks, and Nora smiled warmly.

“Charades.”

#westallen #westallen fanfiction #backtothestart02 fanfiction #we met on a train #chapter 7

7 notes · View notes

kyuublu · 3 years

Text

Haunt me

Toji Fushiguro x reader (she/her)

Neighbor AU - angst

note: the bold passages are flashbacks + Megumi is an only child in this one lol

song inspo: How to dissapear - Lana Del Rey

Blue skies and big fields of green; the road had always stayed the same, y/n noticed as she left the bus. Once the young women made her way home, she took in all the familiar sights she hadn’t seen in years. She had missed walking through the familiar streets, despite disliking her home town when she was younger, since it didn’t have anything really interesting for teenagers around her age. There were no clubs, cool stores, really anything that was rebellious or at least didn’t look like it was owned by a 70-year-old man. Everything always stayed the same.

Y/n’s footsteps came to a halt, right before the door of her own home. Subconsciously turning her head to the side, she was suddenly aware of the presence that stood further away. The familiar figure leaned against the railing of his porch, back turned to her as he focused on something in his hands. Toji Fushiguro.

Had he stayed the same too?

For a moment, y/n had thought about greeting him but was interrupted by the sudden opening of the door infront of her.

“Y/n! Why didn’t you knock? Oh, come here-“ The older lady put her arms around her daughter lovingly and pulled them inside.

“I made a bunch of your favorites, but there are going to take a bit more time.” She pointed at the stove as both of them entered the kitchen.

“Where’s dad?”

Her mom rolled her eyes at the thought of her stubborn husband, they apparently had argued about the maintenance of their garden a couple of hours prior. Y/n chuckled at her mothers’ frustration, but went to look for her dad on her own, since her mom seemed too busy with cooking. After greeting him and exchanging a couple of words, the daughter convinced him to let her mow the lawn. “But you better not break it again like the first time!” The man teased playfully, earning an eyeroll from y/n as she ushered him inside.

“Damn it-“

Muttering under her breath, the girl almost kicked the device infront of her in a fit of rage. The lawnmower had suddenly been stuck before she could really even start, and was now only a rattling mess.

“Fuck...” She sighed one more time, putting her hand lazily on her hip and the other over her eyes, shielding her from the sun.

“For a young lady, ya do seem to swear alot.”

Y/n whipped her head towards the strangers’ voice, almost gasping as she realized who the voice had belonged to. He was the husband of the new family that had moved next to their house a few weeks ago. Before that encounter she hadn’t seen him up close, but now his appearance immediately burned itself into her brain. He was handsome, not the kind of handsome that she had seen from popular boys in school or the hollywood actors on tv, but the attraction she had to him felt a thousand times better.

“I- uhm-“ The girl stuttered as she avoided his eyes, only to look back at the problem at hand.

“It’s broken.” She pointed at the lawnmower dumbfounded, smacking herself internally at the way she was behaving like a 7-year-old.

“Let’s see if I can help, shall we?” A confident smile appeared on the mans’ face, making the girl’s knees even weaker, before he approached the device. He had quickly figured out the problem and got rid of the piece that had been stuck inside the lawnmower, but continued talking to y/n casually, throwing in a joke or two.

“I’m Toji by the way, but I’m guessing your dad already told you about us.”

She watched as the dark haired man held his hand out to her. His politeness felt strange from the start, as if he was playing a character in a movie and she couldn’t quite figure out why.

“What was your name again?”

“Y/n.” The girl shakily took his hand, getting even more nervous at the roughness that was contrasting her own.

“I also wanted to ask ya something - my wife has been buggin’ me about it for days now. Are ya any good with kids?”

That day Toji had asked her if she could babysit his 5-year old son, since he had a job that required to be available at any moment and his wife had to take night shifts at the hospital. Y/n agreed to it without any question, since her dad had taken a liking to the family and she wanted to earn some money on the side. She had just graduated in that same year and wasn’t sure as to what her next step should be in life or what her future looked like really. But right now, the man walking away from her seemed like the best distraction from the dull routine she had been used to.

Shortly after y/n finished the rest of the lawn, her mom waved her inside to eat. The dinner had tasted better than ever, y/n thought as she greedily dug into her plate and asked her mom for more. The older lady only chuckled at her antics, appreciating the sentiment behind it though.

“I really wouldn’t have thought you’d go through with it, honestly.” Her father spoke with his usual sarcastic tone as he watched his daughter take another plate full of food.

“With college? Yeah, I guess I understand what you mean. I’ve always been the lazy type.”

Y/n knew her dad well enough not to argue with him about what he believed his daughter was like. He only knew what she had let him see, and three years ago that had been an 18-year-old girl that took a year off to stay at her parents home without any plans or direction. Only she herself knew that lazyness hadn’t been the real issue, it was her fear of growing up and failing. Before they could dig any deeper into the topic, the daughter decided to ask about the one thing that had been stuck in her mind since she had seen Toji on the porch.

“So, how are the Fushiguro’s doing?” She casually picked at the food on her plate.

“I thought I’ve told you on the phone already? About Toji’s wife and kid.” The mother looked at her child in disbelief until she saw the genuine confusion in her eyes and started explaining.

“His wife died almost a year ago. She became very sick all of a sudden and then it just happened so quickly. Toji hasn’t really been the same since.”

Y/n’s eyes widened in shock, she couldn’t comprehend the fact that something did change so drastically around here, and it hat happened to the family she had wished it upon the least.

“W-What about Megumi?”

Ms.L/n eyes locked with her husband’s, both of their heads hanging a bit lower now.

“Toji gave him away for adoption. He didn’t seem to be in the right state of mind to be handling a child on his own after an incident like that.” The daughter only nodded her head slowly at her dads’ words, as she remembered the big pouty cheeks on that little boys’ face three years ago and his mother that had the same big blue eyes.

Since the very first time y/n had visited the Fushiguros’ house, the wife had always been extremely caring and sweet towards her, reassuring her that she’d be a great babysitter (and even mother someday, which always made her cringe a little). Eventhough she wanted to be grateful, she felt a tinge of jealousy, almost resentment towards her. The woman was beautiful in every way posssible and even stood up against her husband plenty of times, never doubting her confidence once - Y/n had been the complete opposite.

Especially confrontation was something she had always struggled with, even feeling bad when she overheard some of the fights that the Fushiguro’s had occasionally.

One night when y/n had been taking care of the little boy again, Toji came home earlier than expected, leaving her a bit taken back at the sudden appearance. Thankfully, Megumi had already been asleep at this point, making it easier for the parent to just arrive home without worrying about the whole putting him to bed routine. He had walked straight pass her, only muttering a short “Hey” before grabbing a beer and sitting down on the couch. The girl recalled the fight before the couple both headed off to work but didn’t expect to have to deal with his mood already.

What was she supposed to say to a man twice her age that was visibly pissed, sitting on the couch that she was supposed to sleep on tonight. She could only stare at the back of his head helplessly, wondering if she should just change into her normal clothes again and leave.

“Are ya gonna stand there all day?”

Y/n’s eyes snapped back to the man, as he streched one of his arms over the back of the couch.

“No, I just thought-“ Stopping herself from ending the sentence, she thought about actually engaging in conversation with him. The girl didn’t have the chance nor the guts to talk to him completely alone yet, since he always kept his ‘nice neighbor facade’ up around other people. Stepping closer to the couch, she could feel herself getting more tense. She knew Toji wasn’t going to give her much attention, since he hadn’t ever given her any signs of actually liking her in any way, but somehow the girl couldn’t overlook the weird tension. Once y/n settled down a bit further away from him, she noticed his eyes had been glued to her since she’d walked over.

“Wasn’t too hard now was it?”

He muttered with a slight smirk, before taking a swig of his drink. Y/n let out a nervous chuckle before leaning back more comfortably.

Just stay cool.

“So, I heard you’ve graduated not too long ago, congratulations.” It was more of a statement than a question but she still answered nonetheless.

“Yeah it’s crazy, actually- I also turned 19 a week ago too. Everything is going by so fast now.” She cringed at herself once she heard the deeple chuckle from the man beside her.

Why would you tell him that? Your age of all things?

“Well, why are ya still stuck here then? Ya should be out there in the world, not in this shithole.” Toji had his eyes back on the bottle as he tapped his finger on the dark colored glass.

“Or is a boyfriend of yours keeping ya here?” Glancing to the side teasingly, he leaned in a bit closer, making the girl’s heartbeat race even more.

“No! I’m j-just...” Y/n shook her head, staring at him with big eyes until she mumbled out

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Raising his eyebrows, he really began acknowledging her presence. The way she acted more shy around him and always seemed to be shaking a bit, making her look like a scared little puppy. Then he noticed her clothes, or rather lack there of. “What? Don’t tell me a pretty girl like you didn’t get chased by the guys at ya school.”

Does he really think I’m pretty?

Y/n almost held her breath once he lowered his eyes down her figure, remembering now that she was only wearing a top, without a bra, and shorts to sleep in, because summer had just started and the temperatures felt like hell at night.

“Not really, I guess I just wasn’t anyone’s type.”

The girl let out a nervous chuckle yet again, her body feeling like it was overheating and her brain was about to explode at any moment. It only worsened once the dark haired man loosened his arm on the couch and bend it towards her face, his hand slowly pulling a piece of hair behind her ears. Their eyes locked for what felt like an eternity; She couldn’t get enough of this feeling.

“Too bad.”

Y/n waited for something more, anything to explain what he had meant, but got startled by the sudden ringing in her pocket.

“A-ah uhm, sorry-“

She quickly picked up the phone, only to be bombarded by questions from her father. Eventually she ended the call and turned back to Toji, who still hadn’t looked away from her.

“I have to go. My dad he- he thought that I wasn’t going to babysit tonight and now he’s kind of mad, so...”

The man nodded understandingly until a smirk appeared on his face, as if he had just read her thoughts for a moment.

“I guess ya can’t keep me company then, huh?”

Y/n only shook her head, almost sighing in frustration. Tonight had already felt like a dream, but a way too short one.

Cleaning the dishes had always been a task assigned to y/n since she could remember, but hoped that she could’ve escape tonight. Sadly not though - making her the last one to go to bed. She dragged her feet up the stairs that led to her old bedroom but stopped before falling into the soft pillows. Instinctively the woman looked out her window, only to catch a glimpse of the one across from hers. Before the Fushiguro’s had moved in, it had always bugged her that the neighbors view directly faced her room. Her mom had always warned her daughter to close the curtains as much as possible and change in the bathroom instead, but like most teenagers often do - she didn’t listen, or just wasn’t planning on walking back to the bathroom for every time she had to change her clothes. But y/n did remembered the first time she had changed infront of the window on purpose.

With only a towel draped around her body, the girl quickly peaked at the neighbors house as she stood with her back to the wall. She had panicked at first, seeing the husband leaning against the window frame, a cigarette hanging on the side of his lips. Y/n didn’t know if he had seen her walk in with the towel but she was intrigued by his sight, the way he had just casually leaned forward, as the thick smoke escaped his lips. Without thinking any further she stepped away from the wall and infront of the window, her back turned towards the dark haired man on the other side.

Was he going to notice? Would he even want to see her like this?

Dropping the towel and slowly putting on the underwear that was layed out on her bed, she kept imagining what he might’ve looked like in that moment. Thousands of pictures would pop up in her head until she couldn’t help but want to see for herself. Her head moved on it’s own, as she turned it to the side, only to see that the figure was gone.

Y/n blinked a couple of times, utterly confused on how to feel, should she have wanted this? This was exactly the opposite of thing’s a girl of her age should feel excited about, but she couldn’t deny that the tiny bit inside of her that wanted him to watch, wanted to be desired by him - had been disappointed.

Y/n tossed and turned, never seeming to find any rest from her constant thinking. She couldn’t’ help but feel bad about disappearing from the small town, even though there had never been any reason for her to stay in the first place - there hadn’t been any jobs that would have been interesting to her, no new people to connect to. The deep heavy weighing feeling inside of her told her the opposite though, probably resulting in a restless and never ending night of overthinking.

I have to see him. Sitting up, her buzzing head turned to the side, she considered going with the idea that had popped into her head momentarily.

Y/n let out a huff, putting on the robe that had been draped over the chair in the corner of the room (and took the keys with her, of course) and made her way downstairs carefully, each step creaking slightly under her shaking feet. Fleeting moments of feeling like a teenager again went through her mind; even though she had rarely snuck out of the house back then, the young woman had only wished that those years would’ve been that exciting. Shrugging at the thought, she finally stood infront of the door of her home, opening it slowly. As her hands pushed the wooden surface back, she slipped through and looked to the side, towards the house she hadn’t stepped foot in in 3 years. Suddenly the pace of her heart quickened, not only by the thought of seeing the older man again, but by the figure that was leaving the house at that moment. Y/n squinted until she recognized that it hadn’t been Toji leaving the house. The long black hair immediately made her perk up and lean back, she didn’t want to be noticed by the guy - even though he might’ve been easier to approach than the man sitting in that very house next door.

It had been in the middle of the day that Mrs.Fushiguro called the young woman. Y/n had the spare time of course and agreed to come over, happy to see the little boy and maybe even catch a second to talk with Toji again. She hadn’t seen him often after that night and couldn’t quite place yet what the dark haired man thought of her now. How was she supposed to behave around him? Groaning in frustration the girl began walking towards the house, but as the door opened, the student began slowing down. An unknown man, visibly younger than the parents that lived in the house, suddenly locked eyes with her. Y/n imagined him to be around around his mid-tenties, which made her curious - Toji didn’t ever seem to invite any guests over, so why would he choose to be around a guy that young?

The stranger smiled politely, which she only returned while approaching the porch he had been standing on.

“Don’t tell me Toji has another kid he didn’t tell me about.”

Thrown off by the sudden comment, y/n’s eyes widened as she snapped her head back to the stranger. The mans’ soft laugh made her feel more at ease, ultimately making her laugh too.

“No, I’m just the babysitter slash next door neighbor.”

“I’m Geto Suguru, it’s nice to meet you.”

His smile was smug but sweet, she noted. Before Geto could leave, the girl spoke up once again, the curiosity getting the best of her.

“How do you know the family? Do you work for them too?”

The man turned, giving her his full attention.

“Oh, god no I’d never work for that idiot.” He chuckled yet again, shaking his head in the process. “I am a colleague of Toji. Sometimes I just come around, since he does have a charm that I can’t resist, you know.”

By the looks of it he had only made a joke, but to y/n, that only chuckled in response, the vibe had felt off.

“What do you do exactly? I’m not trying to pry or anything, but Mr.Fushiguro has never really told me about it, so...”

Geto quirked a brow, he had caught a slight glimpse of her in that moment that almost gave her intentions away - but he looked past it, she seemed too young to actually be interested in Toji’s personal life. “We work at a workshop not too far from here, repairing cars and all that. It’s probably not something worth mentioning to be honest.”

The girl infront of him didn’t believe a word. She didn’t have any evidence not to, but the way he talked had been so sugarcoated, that she couldn’t help but feel suspicious of him. “You’re probably right, I don’t know a thing about cars.”

Smiling innocently at the guy, she slowly began turning back to the entrance of the house.

“Well I’ll see you around then.”

Geto only held up a hand smoothly, smiling yet again - which only confirmed what y/n had been thinking this whole time. This man was too much of a flirt, a smooth talker to be around someone like Toji as a normal friend. It only raised the question as to why the father always seemed to avoided talking about his job, and what the hell it had to do with this Geto guy. Y/n shook her head lightly until she was met with the devil himself.

“Right on time as always, mh?”

Toji’s smirk only drew her eyes down his face, making her noticed the scar in the corner of his lips.

“Oh uh- yeah.”

Y/n nodded as he let her inside. She stepped in, thinking that maybe there was more to the man than she originally had thought, a side of him nobody knew about.

It took a long time before a shadow appeared at the foot of the door. To the young adult it had felt like hours until she could finally hear the lock being opened. The girl inside of her was screaming, begging to see him again - as to why she did feel that way still, she didn’t have an answer to. Then the door creaked open just a bit. Y/n could see him peak through for just a second, the dark bags under his eyes were alarming, but to be expected. He must’ve been through alot, things she wouldn’t be able to grasp at her age.

A sigh escaped Fushiguro’s lips as he leaned away from the door, only letting a crack of light fall through, contrasting the dark of the night. Suddenly the door swung open, the brightness of the light illuminating her completely now, as she squinted her eyes to adjust to it. Toji had his back turned to her, trudging towards the living room without a word. She watched as his body disappeared into the room and followed slowly after, unsure of what’s to come.

As y/n stepped in, closing the door after her, she began taking a peak at the rooms that she passed by. They had all been in the same conditions as the day she left, which made her wonder how much of that was really Toji’s doing - he had never been the one to clean the house or cook. It was always one of the things his wife had complained about the most, y/n remembered the bickering everytime the woman left for work. Mrs.Fushiguro had been right about the way her husband had never participated in doing his part, but the girl couldn’t deny that back then she would’ve done anything to be a housewife if that meant she could call the man she had been infatuated with - hers. Y/n often joked about it to her friends at school, but deep down she knew there was an inexplicable feeling she couldn’t get rid of as soon as he left her sight.

The young woman almost gasped once she stood in the doorway of the living room, it contrasting to the rest of the home so much that she almost wanted to laugh. Beer cans were scattered across the floor, half eaten food laying around on the table and in between the rest of all the mess, was Toji, his head hanging low.

Y/n had expected some sort of comment from the dark haired man that was now sitting on the same old couch that she had imprinted into her memories - but he hadn’t uttered a word.

She knew she was the one that had to initiate the conversation, but couldn’t shake off the anxiety that was creeping up. Once her feet were ready to move without shaking, she approached the man, sitting right on the spot next to him that she had been used to back then.

“What are you doing here...”

Toji’s low tone almost made her shiver. His question rather sounding like an accusation, an observation than anything else. It was the same old thing he’d always do, where he didn’t ask for the other person’s sake but rather to emphasize that what they were doing was almost a joke to him, something so obvious that he didn’t need an answer for.

She shouldn’t be here - nobody asked her to come and he was probably the last person to know what to do with her. They weren’t friends, y/n told herself as she looked at his disheveled state, she was only an old memory, coming back to haunt him.

“I just thought-“

The womans’ eyes began watering, but she swore to herself that she didn’t want to be that stuttering mess in front of him ever again. She didn’t want to remind him of that same girl he had met three years ago. Y/n was a grown woman now, and for some reason she felt the need to prove it to him.

“I heard what happened. I don’t know if it makes any difference, but I just wanted to give you my condolences.”

A creak of one of the beer cans made her look up to the man, his face unreadable. Toji scoffed as he watched the can crinkle between his fingers.

“Everyone says the same shit. It was stupid of me to think ya would be any different.”

Y/n watched as he let the empty can drop to the floor, making it painfully obvious how silent it had gotten.

“Did Geto say the same too?”

Toji finally casted her eyes towards her form, almost seeming caught off guard by the question.

“He came to the funeral after everything that happened. Suguru was never somebody I would’ve considered a friend honestly, but there he was, standing next to me in a black suit.”

The dark haired man paused for a moment as his eyes darted to the glass door that led to their garden. A sudden chuckle escaped his lips, without any certain emotion being evident on his face.

“He didn’t once pity me. The guy just padded me on the back and said he’d see me at work again.” His gaze found it’s way to the girl in the robe.

“So?”

She knitted her brows in confusion, unsure of what to say. “What?” He laughed at the quick response, turning away to shake his head.

“I never really understood you, y/n. Even before you left-“

Toji leaned forward, prompting his arms on his thighs as he looked down at his hands.

“You were always looming around but ya never got to the damn point. It was like you were hiding something in that pretty little head of yours.”

Suddenly the young woman felt defensive, finally grasping the fact that she didn’t have to stand back anymore - this was her only chance.

“And you weren’t?”

His head turned, as he looked over his shoulder questioningly. Y/n took the opportunity to go further, staring back at him intently.

“You always acted all polite infront of others, casually waved at the neighbors, talked to my parents with a friendly smile - but once you were in here...”

She scoffed at the memories flooting her thoughts again. The harsh words Toji had thrown at his wife, the way he wouldn’t as much as look in his son’s direction most of the time.

“You were awful, Toji.”

The mans’ eyes grew dark with every word she uttered, but y/n was insistent on not taking it back this time, she needed answers.

“Sure, make me the bad guy all ya want. I’ll let ya have that, but don’t act all innocent on me.”

Slowly the distance between them became smaller, as the man leaned closer to y/n with a devilish grin.

“Do you really think I didn’t notice your little attempts? Ya think my wife would’ve appreciated the way you acted around me?”

The hand that was propped onto his leg was dangerously closer to her thigh, y/n noted as her eyes flickered down nervously. He knew all along - but what did that mean for her? Y/n gulped before speaking up again and meeting his gaze.

“You were already fighting with her about every possible thing you could, but you think that the girl next door would’ve made her break? Really?”

Toji’s stare was cold again, his lips shut close as he almost mumbled to himself in disbelief.

“What did I ever do to you?”

“Nothing.” The woman shook her head as the tears slipped down her cheeks. “You didn’t even spare me a glance.”

Her voice broke as she smiled sadly, not knowing how to put into words why she had felt the way she did. Y/n couldn’t quite grasp it herself.

“I didn’t understand why even though you did everything your own way, disrespecting her multiple times and seemingly not even giving a fuck about your own family - you still never even dared to look at me in any other way than the fucking babysitter.”

A sniffle broke through the silence of the house, Toji still not wavering as he watched the woman break right infront of him.

“I know that you shouldn’t have and that it was selfish of me, childish to think you could ever see me as more, but I was so frustrated. I just wanted to be desired by you, and the little amount of attention you did give me just made it hard not to be addicted to you.”

In that moment, y/n felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She didn’t explain everything perfectly but she felt as if maybe this was the only way she could’ve made him understand, even just a little.

The girl back then already knew that her way of thinking had been selfish, and even now she couldn’t look past at how toxic it was to think that way about someone with a family, someone much older than her - but y/n still never stopped thinking about him.

Y/n closed her eyes, sparing herself the embarrassment she might’ve felt by looking at Toji’s reaction but suddenly felt his body moving beside hers. She opened her eyes as the man took her chin in his hand and looked down her lips longingly. Just for a moment, y/n thought that maybe she had been wrong all along - Maybe Toji had catched a glimpse of her when he smoked out of the bedroom window, maybe he too had wondered what it would be like to lay next to her and hold her for just one night.

Then his lips crashed into hers, softly but with a lingering determination. Before y/n could even react properly, Toji had moved back again. His eyes staying on the spot he had kissed her, tracing his thumb over it lightly.

“I can’t give you what you want. I never could.”

No. No. No.

Y/n thought back to when she had arrived today, when she claimed that everything had stayed the same. “Why?”

She pleaded with glassy eyes, her e/c ones boring into his.

“Because you don’t belong at a place like this - and I do.”

Even as the young woman sat there, watching him move away and stand back up, she didn’t feel any hatred towards him. He never did anything bad to her. He never treated her the way he had treated his wife. He never once took advantage of the situation.

But both of them knew he wasn’t a good person, and maybe letting each other go was the only way to avoid causing any more damage.

“I’m sorry.”

Y/n didn’t know what exactly she had apologized for; if it had been for leaving the town out of the blue, or for crashing into his home without any warning. Maybe even for something that only Toji could know, like what circumstances he had been in to become this way - but she did feel sorry. Toji’s steps come to a halt at the doorway, turning his head, only to give her one last smile.

He had left the room without a response.

Y/n knew there hadn’t been anything left to say - this was their last chapter and she was finally ready to turn the page.

————

My first jjk story for now, but I’ll probably write more for other characters from the show soon. Also please feel free to correct me on anything grammar related since english isn’t my first language & i’m only trying to get better. ^^

#jjk imagines #jjk angst #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #toji imagine #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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