#because I don't wanna look wild in front of the hoes

[soulaanadelrey]

Does anyone else have precognitive dreams or should I keep that to myself?

[choke-me-joey]

Hi! In regards to Hoevember can you do number 50 with Joe? Thank you love.

Thank YOU for requesting bby ❤️

Also massive thanks to @harrys-four-nipples for helping me out with this one, ily 🥰

50. Are you sure? If we do this, I won't be able to control myself.

Joseph Quinn x reader

Content warning: 18+ content minors DNI, rpf (don't like don't read), friends to lovers, angst, reader gets a teeny bit jealous and insecure, lil bit of fluff, Joe is soft until he's really not, no prep (but its cool, reader is SUPER wet), unprotected p in v, creampie because what else would I write

Hoe-vember/Dick-cember masterlist

It was no secret that you and your best friend Joe fancied each other. Every bloody one of your friends knew it, he knew it and you knew it. So why the hell weren’t you together?!

Well, that was totally your bad. When Joe had started landing bigger jobs, you had decided to try and save yourself the eventual heartbreak he was bound to cause you and you tried to move on to other guys with nice normal jobs who weren’t going to shatter your soul by falling in love with a stunning a size 4 actress who was working opposite him.

And it worked. For a bit.

Until the nice normal guys were not nice guys at all, but just the typical London arseholes who were only in it for a quick fuck and chuck, completely not what you wanted. And eventually when yet another boring banker or data analyst was crawling on top of you, Joe’s face invaded your thoughts and it would be the only reason you’d eventually get off, by fantasising about your long-term crush and best friend. In fact, you had even called out his name mid-fuck once. Luckily the guy you were shagging at that time was also called Joe so, no harm, no foul.

So to save yourself even further, you’d stopped dating. Completely. No one. Nothing. And at first, it was fine. But by the 3 month mark of self-inflicted celibacy, you were starting to go a little crazy. 

Which leads you to now, sitting alone in your flat on a Friday night, watching some David Attenborough narrated documentary on the TV with a G&T. Wild. All of your friends were either with their partners, tied down with work or just wanting time at home themselves tonight. The only person you hadn’t contacted was Joe. But he was probably out with Wesley, or at some fancy event or something. You missed him.

Shooting back the rest of your G&T, you pick up your phone and start mindlessly scrolling through Instagram, Facebook and Twitter, a 3-app rotation that kept you occupied for all of 10 minutes. Then a WhatsApp message pings through.

‘Hey, wyd? X’

It’s Joe. Your heart flutters at the sight of his name. 

‘Hey, famous actor man. Nm, wanna come over? X’

‘Already outside. Got Chinese x’

You stand up and open up your balcony windows, stepping outside and glancing down to the main door of your building. Sure enough, Joe is stood there, looking back up at you with a plastic bag full of food in his hands. He grins, raising the bag up at you.

He looks so fucking good it should be illegal.

“Hold on,” you return his grin, rushing back inside and buzzing the door open for him. You quickly check over your appearance and make sure you don’t stink like a bin, before opening your front door.

**

About an hour later, bellies full of too much Chinese food and a few beers, you and Joe are sprawled out on your bed. Well, to be more precise he is sprawled out like he bloody owns the place, you’re sat with your back against the headboard picking at the label on your beer bottle.

"Sign of sexual frustration, that." Joe pipes up, smirking at you. You can't fucking look at him right now; you know how he looks when he smirks. You'll want to pounce on him. Your pussy throbs.

"Well, if you hadn't had decent sex for months, you'd be frustrated too." You grumble back, squeezing your thighs together subtly.

"Months? Thought you were seeing that one bloke from your office?"

"Yeah, months ago, Joe. Plus he was so fucking boring. And shit in bed. Had to get myself off when he left." To some videos of you, btw.

"Ah." Joe nods and takes a sip of his beer. "Shame."

"Please don't gloat, Joe, I get it, you're a super hot actor now and the women are throwing themselves at you." You roll your eyes as you speak. Joe barks out a laugh.

"I meant, it's a shame you had to get yourself off after he left, he missed out. Bet that was hot as fuck." He says casually, his dark eyes watching you from his side of the bed. You shove him with your foot. "And you know I haven't been shagging anyone, Y/N."

"Do I? Not even your little red headed friend you were papped with?" You raise an eyebrow at him. Now it's his turn to roll his eyes.

"Jealous?"

"Curious." You lie. Of course you were jealous. She was fucking gorgeous and you knew Joe; the minute those videos surfaced you knew he was flirting with her. But also you knew nothing had happened. Wesley had reassured you. Wesley knew everything. You just needed to hear Joe say it.

"Nothing happened with her. I haven't fucked anyone in months, Y/N. I'm just not interested." Joe sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You know there's only one person I want."

"Joe..." You sigh, your head flopping back against the headboard. "Don't, please. I've told you, I wouldn't be able to handle it if you met someone else, especially some of the women you work with-"

"Fuck, Y/N, what kind of person do you think I am?" Joe sits up, inching closer to you. "I would never, ever-"

"You might though. If we had to spend months apart-"

"Which we have-"

"-you get unbearably horny-"

"-that's what I have a hand for-"

"For fucks sake, Joe, I bloody love you and want you to fuck the shit out of me right now and tell me that you love me too!" You snap, the admission even taking you by surprise. Joe blinks at you. There's a brief, tense pause before he lunges at you, grabbing your head and smashing his mouth to yours. You freeze, brain desperately tying to catch up. Joe feels your hesitation and tries to pull away, but you grab his head and bring him back to you, this time kissing him back properly.

It's closed mouths at first, but you decide to be bold and flick your tongue against his lip. He groans and accepts, opening his mouth and allowing you to taste him for the first time. You thread your fingers into Joe's curls as you kiss, deep and slow, the kind of kisses that make you weak in the knees and dizzy in your brain. Your body shifts against his, making you both moan softly. Joe moves so that you're lying down, him on top of you, and then he suddenly pulls away again, making you whine at the loss of his mouth against yours.

"Are you sure? If we do this, I won't be able to control myself." He says, his voice taking a deeper tone. You nod, and he smiles. "I bloody love you too."

"I know. Can you fuck me now please?"

"Or what, you'll do it yourself?" Joe teases and you laugh. "You'll have to show me that sometime."

"Save that for when you're travelling, Quinn." You reply, grabbing the front of his shirt. He looks down at your hands, an eyebrow raised, before looking back at you. He smirks, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head with one hand.

"Can you keep your hands there for me like a good girl?"

You nod, swallowing, the throb in your underwear almost becoming unbearable. It had been forever, or what felt like forever, since you had been turned on like this. And it's Joe. Fucking Joe who you've been lusting after for fuck knows how long.

He sits you up, still making sure you keep your hands above your head. He tugs at the bottom of your tshirt, looking at you for permission. Again, you nod and he peels off your tshirt, swearing sharply as your tits are exposed, nipples pebbled in arousal. You were pretty glad you'd decided to forgo a bra tonight. Comfort over fashion or whatever it was.

"Fucking hell, Y/N, your boobs are incredible." Joe groans, pushing you down onto your back again and admiring you for a moment. He then strips off his own shirt, taking his place back on top of you, and you whimper at the feel of his bare chest against yours. Joe teases you,skating his fingers along your bare side. His eyes darken, watching your expression as he gently pinches your nipple.

"Fuck, Joe, please!" You whine, bucking your hips into his. The crotch of your leggings brushes over his evident arousal in his jeans and you shiver at the slightest hint of friction there. Joe chuckles.

"Worked up like this already? You really are desperate for a good fucking, aren't you? You're not the only one, baby. I can't wait anymore, need to be inside you."

You're amazed at how he undressed both you and himself whilst still pinning your wrists above your head with one hand. Clearly he has done this before. You swallow down that pang of jealousy; he's with you now, nobody else.

"Hey, you okay?" Joe sees your expression falter as you get lost in your thoughts. His own expression softens as he looks at you with concern. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to-"

"I want to. Fuck me, Joe, and don't be gentle about it. I don't want to be able to walk after." You say with determination, fingers ghosting over his that held you. Joe groans, his eyes fluttering shut.

"You keep saying stuff like that and I won't last long, been thinking about this for way too long." He lets go of your wrists and brings that hand to the side of your head supporting himself as his other hand guides his cock to your pussy. He taps your clit a few times with his cockhead, chuckling at the way your body arches and you squirm with desperation. After he's swiped his cock through your arousal, he pushes in all the way to the hilt, knocking the wind out of you.

He's massive. Well, bigger than what you're used to, thick and long and he bumps your womb when he slides in all the way. The burn is delicious; you can't remember the last time you felt this full, if ever.

"Fuck, Joe," you pant, your walls fluttering around him as you stretch to accommodate him.

"Christ, you're fucking tight. You okay?" Joe grits out, his jaw clenched at how fucking good you feel around him. You nod, and he leans down to kiss you, starting to move slowly.

"No, no, no, no-" you whimper against his mouth. "More, Joe, harder, please, I can take it. Fuck. Me."

Joe finally seems to get the message, and flips you over onto the mattress, face down and ass up. Once again, he grabs your wrists in his hand but this time holds them behind your back. He slams his cock into you, using his grip on your wrists as leverage.

"I was trying to be fucking romantic, love, but you're too desperate for my cock, hm?" Joe grunts, his fast and deep thrusts making you moan into the duvet.

"Fuck yes, Joe, please, I want it!" You moan, every nudge of his cock against your cervix sending a blooming mix of pain and pleasure throughout your core.

Nobody had fucked you this good before. All the guys you'd tried hooking up with to take your mind off of the man who was currently rearranging your guts had crawled on top of you for 10, maybe 15 minutes at a push, encouraged you to touch your clit and left it at that. As long as they shot their load, it was a win for them.

But Joe, Joe was different. So very fucking different. From how he was talking to you, to how he was touching you. He hands leave your wrists and travel to your hair, pulling it into a ponytail and pulling your head back with it.

You let out a sharp moan.

"That's right, baby, let me fucking hear those pretty moans. Does my cock feel good? Cos your pussy feels like fucking heaven, babe, can't believe we waited so long to do this, fuck, i love you so fucking much."

"I love you," you gasp, and Joe pulls you up so your back is against his chest, fucking up into you as one of his hands cups your boob, and the other snakes down to your clit. You turn your head and kiss him, moaning into his mouth as he rolls the pad of his finger over your clit, again and again and again until you break the kiss to cry out his name as you come, long and hard, your pussy holding his cock in a fucking vice grip as a fresh wave of arousal washes over you both.

"Can I come in you?" Joe pants against your mouth, you nod reaching a hand behind his head and keeping it there, tangled in his damp curls as he thrusts a couple more times into you before releasing, cum splashing up against your womb and walls. Joe moans your name out as he comes, his legs shaking with the force of his orgasm. You kiss his face as he rides it out, and eventually his head drops to your shoulder, peppering the skin there with sloppy kisses.

His cock stays in you until it softens, neither one of you wanting to break the connection yet. He hisses with the sensitivity as he slips out of you, and you quickly excuse yourself to go to the bathroom to clean up, albeit on extremely wobbly legs. When you come back, Joe is passed out in your bed, still bollock naked but under the covers, snoring softly. You join him, laying on your side and stroking a hand over his cheek gently. He cracks an eye open and smiles at you, opening his arm for you to snuggle up into him. He places a kiss on your forehead.

"My hand is going to have a hard time comparing to that, just so you know."

[jjkpls]

the wishlist (m) - 6 (final)

“Was it worth it?”

> genre : smut, angst, fluff

> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)

> words : 15k (ugh sorry)

> content/warnings : back at it again w/ the bff2l; one sided love, LOTS of pining; sextoys talk and use; explicit language; explicit description of sex; phonesex; masturbation (f); dirtytalk; alcohol drinking; dubcon exhibitionism; ambiguous infidelity

previous - masterlist

There's a lot of forgetting to get done. It wasn't the plan to get drunk. Maybe you should have known better than to confide the slightest about your heart and its aching to your two girlfriends. Because they don't have much of a solution to present you with. You meant to ask of them to divert your mind, make you laugh, feed you so much you'd fall into a food coma and wouldn't be able to think about anything else but sleep. Eventually, share their own dramas of the moment (they always have some) to get you so invested in their shits you wouldn't be thinking about your own.

You made the mistake of sharing, with probably too much preponderance in your tone, that Jungkook was back with his girlfriend.

Without any context clues -they didn't even know that he was single for approximately four days-, they knew. You're not that complicated to read when it comes to him. Only he seems to not get it.

You still remember the first time they found you out. They had a sense that something was up with this kid, that there couldn't just be a platonic, decade-old friendship based on nothing spicier than the tteokbokki you'd cook for him every now and then.

They only started believing, with utter incredulity, that it was true when they saw you, and him, and his girlfriend. All at the same time, sitting around the same table, there was no doubt left. No reason to believe that there's something unsaid existing. They saw your eyes though. The shine they gain whenever you'd be looking at him, laughing hard with all his teeth out, and the glassy look they took on whenever they'd catch a gesture, a touch that was meant only for Jiyeun.

You've never really gone into details. You've never ranted over the feelings, over him, everything that made him the one person for you. They saw you cry over him though, one drunken night, and it was enough to make them understand how deep you were in.

And perhaps it's your fault, that you wouldn't sort of train them to be the better friends they wish to be to you. They don't know what to say, what to do to console you. You don't even know what you need. Really, all you know, it's that you didn't feel able enough to take care of your tormented heart and mind alone tonight.

You are to blame if they dragged you to this bar, with the music too loud and the people too numerous, bumping their hips to yours attempting to coarse you into dancing. You hate every second of it. Every element that was supposed to distract you, help you forget, feel better, served as annoying distractions. You could picture yourself, dipped in a scorching hot bath, with a bowl of ice cream, weeping your eyes out like in the most cliche, most dramatic breaking down of your life. And it felt right, in your mind anyway, a thousand times better than this.

"Here!" Like the good girl that you are, you accept the shots. Min sets one in each of your hand and stares over the rim of her own glass, expecting. You roll your eyes. Swallow them down in one go and she yells, arms in the air, jumping like the night has just been made.

At least, she's entertained. Dancing her life away, kind of wilding out with too much energy, having to apologize every few seconds for knocking someone with an elbow or slapping another with her ponytail.

"Look, who's here!"

Your heart skips a beat then. Until you follow Mary's finger who's pointing rudely at Park Jimin. Park Jimin as in Jeon Jungkook's Park Jimin, one of his closest friends. He's dressed in all black, tight leather pants clawing to his legs, silk shirt half unbuttoned, perched on heeled Chelsea boots, dark black hair gelled back.

For a second, you worry, stupidly, if your friend is not going to appear, emerging from the thick crowd, carrying a drink, catching your eyes in the room. That's another thing you wouldn't need right now: seeing him. When you're in this weird state of sadness, guiltiness, of hopelessness and confusion. You'd probably be a mean bitch again. He doesn't deserve that.

For some time, you're just watching Jimin, being Jimin, dancing languorously, flashing smiles and winks so naturally; making everyone uncomfortable just because he's so attractive and so talented at catching people's attention and making them want him. It's just Jimin, hoeing out, as always. No Jungkook ever appears next to him. And while you sort of spy on him, there are the two dumb bitches next to you, drooling over him. Commenting about his ass, the way he moves his hips and how tight he seems to be in his pants.

"You should have fallen for him, dude!" It's the pinch to your arm that drags you back to the conversation, lets you know that you're the one Min is addressing. "What?" Your brain is already a bit slow. You haven't eaten much before leaving, drunk not much but too fast and forming intelligible sentences, translating your thoughts in their entirety is not a task easily doable at the moment. You meant to say something about how ridiculous they sound. About how it doesn't make any sense. About Jungkook and the things you feel for him, and the way you fell and how even when you suffer, like in this instance, you wouldn't change your heart because it's him, and only him, has been and might as well always be.

Why would you fall for Park Jimin?

"Jimin, you'd just ask him to fuck you and he'll do it."

"You can see he's a very generous slut."

It makes you wince. They're being fucking weird. Obnoxious, in their way of ogling him and quite disgusting talking about him. There's a smirk on the corner of Jimin's mouth and you wonder if maybe he's noticed them and is enjoying it. They don't mean to be offensive, you suppose, but they're still rude as hell.

"Useless Jungkook could never!"

Either you knock your friend out with your newly filled up glass or you drink it and attempt to swallow along your rage and that strange feeling that the open shirt Jimin is wearing has raised in you.

"Don't you wanna try him?" The question is absurd. You don't try people in general. But you'd never, ever, even think about trying someone as close as he is to Jungkook.

What the actual fuck?

"Fine! Don't give me those eyes!" Your brain and face connection is not that great at the moment that you'd know precisely what Mary is referring to. Soon after frowning and pouting through a sip of her drink, she's leaving, straight for the less crowded part of the bar, where people are dancing, where Jimin is showing off.

She needs less than thirty seconds to have him wrapped around her. Min is howling at your side like it's such an exploit. You don't want to bad mouth on your friend but it is, indeed, Jimin. Manwhore Jimin. And just like that, just because she walked in his vicinity, whispered something quickly to him, maybe just a simple greeting and a reminder of who she is, your friend, in case he couldn't make her out, and he's holding her tight, dancing, more like grinding against her, to her greatest pleasure, face buried in her hair, he seems to be uttering things directly in her ear. You catch her fingers reaching for the wide opening of his shirt, brushing against that tattoo you know to be there under his breast but have never gotten to really decipher, and he's leaving kisses on her shoulders. The next thing you see is his wide, wolf-like grin, now aiming straight at you.

You startle, almost let your glass shatter to the ground from the surprise. That seems to make him laugh. He waves a hand quickly your way and for some reasons, it sends a sudden flaming flush to your cheeks. That guy is such a cunt-tease, he's awful. No wonder people talk so crudely about him.

"I need to get plastered." You mumble, probably not loud enough for Min, whose arm you're dragging along on your way to the bar, to hear.

You may have thought, for a split second, of a fantasy. You may have reshaped the scene taking place in front of you to make it more suitable to you, to make it as self-indulgent as you could. With you replacing Mary, with Jungkook replacing Jimin. She made it seem so easy and for the briefest of moments, it felt like it was realisable. As if the only step missing, the only thing making it not real yet, is the first step, the one Mary took by just walking up to him and asking him to dance, maybe for you to be his for a while.

Then Jimin looked over, with his dark eyes and pretty luscious lips, his very sexy aura and everything that makes him him, and it all felt down to the ground. That's ridiculous.

That would never work.

Maybe hot men with the most endearing hearts that you really desire are not to be seduced by you. It just wouldn't happen. Jungkook would never, as she said. What a shame.

You should have fallen for someone easier like Jimin. He's not one person's man, that's for sure, but at least, he would have been great at pretending to be yours for a moment.

Now you really need to get drunk.

There's pure guilt boiling in the pit of your stomach. Because you've never denied your feelings for Jungkook. He deserves them. He deserves to be loved by everyone. Deeply and passionately. And no matter how true, how pure, how intense those feelings are, he never owes to reciprocate, does he? And here you are, greedy stupid little you, sad and angry because of course, he couldn't love you back like that. Not when there's fucking Jiyeun in the way. Jiyeun or any fucking one else, right?

He's not making it easy for you. Everything he does is making your life harder. As if it wasn't enough on its own already.

Everything he does.

Like buying you these fucking toys you need a science degree to operate.

Sort of.

Maybe you don't need a science degree. Maybe a sober head would be enough to make a toy you've never used before function.

You don't have that at the moment. You're in your favourite pyjamas - an extra-large, greyed by time tee-shirt you stole from Jungkook back in high school - and panties - because it sounded like way too much effort to find shorts or joggings and slip them on. You've managed, somehow, you don't even remember doing it, to make your bed all cosy and welcoming, a perfect backrest made of your fluffiest pillows.

The little toy, this orange thing, sort of shaped like a fat bunny, a big, rounded body with two straight little ears, pointed upwards. It's supposed to be fully charged. It's been disinfected. It's just waiting for you to use.

Except it's the last one Jungkook had bought for you, you didn't get to use it yet, to even turn it on once, nor read its instructions. And here you are, past two am, trying, with your sloppy brain, your blurry eyes, and your impatient cunt, to understand how it works. There's an app linked to it. This much you got from the big, unmissable QR code occupying the first page of the three-page long manual that your eyes won't read.

You picked up your phone, went through the violent burning of your eyes when the screen lit up too close to your face, scanned the code, installed the app and here you are, stuck.

The app won't let you turn the fucking toy on. There's a message that keeps coming up every time you try to link the app to the toy. But the message is written in grey, on white, and you can't see shit and you don't have the patience to decrypt it. Maybe if you close it, and try running it again, and try scanning the code again, and just click on the button that appears under the message, whatever it says, maybe it'll work.

Except it doesn't. After a certain number of times (keeping up with the counting is another thing you can't do well right now) the app keeps on being a bitch. Keeps being difficult and reluctant, and unwilling to let you fucking get off and go to sleep.

You're on the verge of tears.

Why would it be so fucking difficult to make a fucking sex toy work?

Why?

You're so annoyed and impatient and angry now and it's all Jungkook's fault anyway.

You can't try to go to sleep, no matter how tipsy you are, because your brain is filled up with this asshole and won't let you alone. You can't fuck yourself to sleep because the toy you've picked - and for totally irrational reasons you feel like you can not switch to another one - won't let you and it's his. His fucking present. Fucking poisoned gift.

He makes everything worse. Everything difficult. And the more your eyes fill up with frustration tears, the more you're reminded that he's also the answer. He's the worst and the best part of your existence.

Of course, you'd call him.

"I could be sleeping." His voice is light and clear. He wasn't any close to be asleep. He's probably gaming or something. You're so thankful for his voice, the lovely thing, the comforting thing, that you don't even get mad at his aforehand teasing.

"Jungkook-" It's not a call of his name. It's a whine, almost a lament at this point. Tiny high tone, overly dragged vowels. Something like Juunggooo, and he must recognize the tone straight away because he starts laughing in your ear. You bite on your bottom lip hard, almost draw blood, squeeze your fist over your heart, as if it could help it handle it better.

You love him, you love him, you love him.

"Went out with the girls?" You hum as an answer. "Had a little too much fun, sweatheart?"

"No fun at all."

He's laughing again. His sly, mocking chuckle. He's too himself for you to get mad at him. He's too cute when he sounds boyish and happy like that.

"No fun?" He's having fun, it's hearable. It might be because you sound like a dumb, whiny kid. "Why is that?"

"Just cause." He hums like he understands. You hear mockery in it. He sounds a bit distant. As if he's not totally paying attention, as if you're really a four-year-old kid rambling some non-sense after school and their parent just barely pretends to be interested. "Junggooo, I'm trying to have my fun now but your thing is being mean to me."

"What thing?" He's definitely doing something else. He speaks a bit slow, you can picture his gaze far from you. And of course, it'd be, he couldn't even see you even if he tried. It's still vexing. He really doesn't want you to have him all for yourself. Why not fucking Jimin?

"The orange bunny you got me." You explain patiently, pouting a bit. You try your best not to have your vexation be too loud but it's hard. "I tried the app but it won't let me."

"The orange-" You hear it when the gears click. He even gasps a bit. You kind of brought it up out of nowhere when you accommodated him with your constant complains and fights pretty much each time he wanted to talk about this subject. And here you are, opening up a conversation on one of them. You kind of get where the shock is coming from. "Oh, the Gala thing." He even knows its name. "What- How isn't it working?"

"The app says I'm too drunk to use it." You quetch, glaring at the toy laying flat on its back next to you. The asshole.

"The app says what?"

"Jeon Jungkook! Are you even listening to me?" Hysteria was to be expected. Because here you are sad and drunk and horny and highly frustrated and it seems he keeps making you repeat everything. And of course, he would because he can't give you his undivided attention now, can he? Because he's not a generous slut like Park Jimin, he's a useless prick. And if he keeps being one, and he keeps upsetting you, you promise to yourself, as an act of self-love and self-respect, you'll tell him he should be better, he should be more like Park Jimin.

"I am, baby, but I'm confused."

Except he doesn't need any bettering, does he?

It's like he's heard your thoughts. Like somehow, even with the distance separating your two apartments, he's been able to read them directly on the lines of your heart. He knows what you need, the soft and gentle and tender Jungkook who takes care of you, the one that doesn't show often, especially now that you don't really go out and get pissed off drunk together, now that you don't expose the sad episodes you might have to him in fear of being precisely confronted to this perfect torture. Maybe he heard your mind calling Park Jimin's name too many times and he tries to ensure his position. You almost tell him not to bother. That it was just a taunt, it's always him, just him, will ever be.

"What does the message say?"

"That I'm too drunk and stupid to use it."

"I don't think that's what's written, baby."

"But-" You're seriously going to cry in a second. You don't even know from what. The app really succeeded in hurting your feelings by not working for you and he keeps calling you baby, it makes your whole inside boil and scorch like a puddle of lava. "It's invisible letters, how am I supposed to read exactly?"

"If you can't read maybe you should just go to bed for now, hm? Figure it out tomorrow."

"No, now." Full brat mode is on. You know if only he was sitting next to you, you would have raised a hand to pinch him right on the back of his upper arm -where it really stings. It works usually. You don't hurt him, the guy is basically made of muscles, he's the kind of work out junkie that's enjoying the pain. He wouldn't fucking mind your tiny attempt of an attack, no matter the amount of anger and frustration powering it.

By telephone though, it's even harder to make him do something. Possibly undoable. The only weapon that you have is your annoying screeching voice. "You fix it! You bought this shitty thing so you fix it."

"I forgot how rude you get when you're drunk." He's still making fun of you. Not taking you that seriously.

"Jungkook, I'm seriously going to cry." The worst part is that you mean it. If regular menaces won't do, surely affection blackmailing should be more effective.

"Don't cry, it's fine. I'll check. Don't hang up."

As if. You did not plan on hanging up. Ever. You've decided.

It's too nice, cuddled up in your bed, with his voice, smooth and soft, saying words that you really like, like baby, in your ear. You've decided this moment won't ever stop.

"Junggoo-"

"One second, baby." You don't have one fucking second. You don't have any fucking second to spare him. When he's made you horny and lonely and longing for so fucking long. Why would you spare him any more? He takes too long. The time he takes, you prophet, will precisely be the time your vagina will need to dry out entirely.

Even his soft voice calling you baby won't serve to make you wet again.

That's a lie.

It makes you groan. Asshole, asshole, asshole.

"Oh." Your ears perk up. He's back with you, his voice closer than before, it seems, when he starts explaining, a hint of guilt shadowing his tone. "Sorry, it's my fault."

"Of course, it is." You mumble, face deep in your pillows. "Jungkook! Everything's your fault, always." You're probably being unfair. Or maybe not. Is he responsible for making you fall for him or are you to blame for doing so? Turns out, it doesn't really matter, because he doesn't even pay attention to the blatant, telling, honest truth you've just spurred.

"When I received the package I tried it once."

"Tried?" Did he really? The cute little bunny-shaped thing you'd dismissed earlier, cursed at and threw daggers at suddenly looks different to you. You want to pick it up and maybe place a kiss on the top.

"Wait- Not like that! I didn't actually try it! I don't have a fucking clit, what-"

"You just said that!"

"I meant, I tried turning it on and linking it with the app, just to see how it worked. Like the options on the app."

"Oh." Makes more sense.

"Anyway, it's not working for you because I used my email with it and you can only have one." So many words. God. "I have to invite you. Or delete my account and then you make one with your QR code."

You turn into the whiniest, most irritating little thing then. Just a jumble of dramatic cries, something almost sorrowful because your issue appears impossible to deal with. It's not that complicated. He explained it. Too many words, too much thinking, too much paying attention, too much to do and too much delay. How does he expect you to do it when you can't even read the invisible font of the app?

"Fucking invite me then."

"Watch your mouth." It makes you roll your eyes. It's not the first time he says that. He says with this menacing growl at the end. Like he means it. Like he's really threatening you. But no matter how far you go, no matter how many times you curse at him, he never acts on it. You want to tell him, you almost do, to stop promising you things he won't ever give you. There's a ping coming from your phone. With a bit of a struggle, you manage to put the speakers on, so that he doesn't leave too far whilst you take a look at the message. A link to click on. Not that hard, it's bright blue, unmissable. It leads you back to the bitchy app.

Now it's all nice to you. It lets you enter, presents even a picture of your own toy, congratulates you for being linked to it and to Jungkook's account. Of course, it would. Now that it knows you're friends, now that he's in the thing, this bitch of an app is being nice.

There are a lot of symbols, every-fucking-where. Some wavier than others. One is shaped like a music note. Some are just little constellations of dots. You click somewhere, just to try and see if anything happens and it does.

Suddenly, the bunny is brought to life and starts purring furiously on the bed. It startles you, looks a bit intimidating. It sounds angry and complicated with all of these fucking options. At least the other toys he's gotten for you had at most two buttons, one to turn it on and off, and the other one to regulate the three levels of intensity.

You might actually need a science degree to use that. Simply to adjust it so it's not attacking you when you turn it on.

You press another button. The setting changes instantly. It starts vibrating in a jerkier way instead of one straight line of frequency.

Tentatively, you grab it, sort of unimpressed and dubious as to the way this would feel good on you. You've already grown grudges against it. It needs to impress you, prove to you that it's worthy of the effort and of you even bringing it to your precious temple.

It sucks at convincing you. You've brought it to your panties and tee covered crotch, pressed it there, waiting, and it doesn't do much. It vibrates. Weirdly. It stops and goes again, in a pattern you don't understand and it doesn't do much for you. Doesn't turn you on, doesn't make you wet. Doesn't stimulate in any positive way.

You reach for your phone with one hand, trying to keep the other one holding it against you, and it's here that the whole thing fucks up for the last time you can tolerate.

How are you supposed to fucking do that?

Don't they understand that? The people that make those fucking things? That they're going to be used mostly by single people, with a single pair of hands? How are you supposed to manage holding it up where you need it, whilst simultaneously, hold your phone up (everyone fucking knows holding a phone up with one hand, and tap on the fucking screen, especially laid in bed, is impossible and the worst fucking idea one could have - except if getting a black eye is the project) and control the intricate dashboard.

"For fuck's sake!"

"What is it?" Jungkook is sighing heavily in your room. And for a second, you're startled almost off of your own bed. You managed to forget he was even still here, on the other line, apparently waiting patiently for- for what exactly? Maybe for you to wish him goodnight and hang up. You literally forgot he was here. You were about to get yourself off -if only this shitty thing wasn't so shitty- whilst he was still here on the phone.

Why doesn't it mortify you?

"How am I supposed to use my phone and the thing at the same time? Why- How? Jungkook!"

"Stop saying my name like that!" You don't ask because you know exactly how you're saying it. There's no proper balance in your tone tonight. Either you're whining his name like a desperate brat, either you're pestering it like a disappointed, aggravated mom.

"I'm going to cry." You say again, lying this time. You've already started. It's not a lot yet. Just a puddle of tears, in each of your eyes that are just about to spill, and the prickling sensation at the tip of your nose, the latter has already starting sniffling uncontrollably.

"Why?" He sighs again. This time, it's gentler. He might have just found the key to the secret safe holding the very last drops of indulgence he hides deep inside his kind heart. "Baby, the app is really for couples."

"But I'm not a couple, I just wanna cum."

"Y/N-" He chokes on your name. "There are buttons on the toy for you to use. You don't have to use your phone, okay?"

"You're lying."

"Why would I be lying? Look! There are fucking buttons."

There are, indeed. But they suck, you think. You do try them. Pressing on them while you stretch your arms out to keep the bunny's ears close to your covered clit. It's so much work. You don't get it. The buttons are hard to press on, when you manage to activate the little monster, it just jabs against your centre, falls over from your hand. You hate the jerking motion, try to change it because clearly, it won't do. It doesn't work. The buttons suck, the toy sucks and Jungkook is cursing at you instead of helping.

"What do you want me to do? Baby, I'm- Just go to bed."

You hate that he's telling you to go to bed, again. He's probably right. You're being a pain, an embarrassing one at that. You can't just go yet, though. First of all, the very reason you called in the first place, for him to make it so you can fuck yourself to sleep, has not been effectively resolved. And on top of that, the very resolution you took earlier, the one of never hanging up, of never drawing a period to this moment, won't let you.

"This one sucks ass."

"It doesn't." He sounds calm, a bit quiet, tone low and collected. You wonder if he'd dropped whatever he was doing, whatever distraction and laid in bed like you, to listen and talk to you only. That would be nice. You're annoying as hell, poor him, he deserves better, but you're thankful for him.

"It's stabbing, how can it be nice?"

"You just- I don't even know why I'm arguing with you. You're drunk."

"Am not, you are."

He scoffs, doesn't bother insisting. He exhales deeply. You sigh as deep. Your lids are heavy. Your brain is fuming too. Your head feels fuzzy. You could sleep right now. You might make a terrible night. You might have nightmares. You might wake up in a few hours, hot and very bothered, frustrated and on edge. There's a little ping messing with an edge of your eyebrow. You know it'll grow into a headache soon.

"Junggoo..." You whimper as if he could help you. As if he's the key to this headache, to lock it away, along with the rest of your tormented feelings.

"You're tired, baby." He comments. You would bite if you were in front of him. He really wants to send you to bed. "Just go to sleep."

You should. Given that you need a good five minutes to find the energy to open your mouth and mumble, "Don't wanna."

"Then what is it that you want?"

"Told you."

"Hm?" You're not saying it again. You could fall asleep right now. With his slow breathing in your ear. It sounds so lovely. Feels like you've never been this nicely enveloped. It's like those ASMR or lo-fi music compilation videos on YouTube. The ones with the short scene, often animated, playing on the screen. It's instant peace, instant chill, purely quiet, greatly pleasant. You love these sceneries. You even have a few printed on your wall. They are great to look at and try to project in, because it seems you could never create this feeling, this atmosphere in real life.

But you've reached it. Now. The perfect peaceful land. With the perfect soundtrack coming through your phone. You're comfy and warm, it's almost as if he was actually there with you, wrapped behind you, stroking your hair. God, you wish he was there stroking your hair and kissing the top of your head. But he's not here. And why? He should be here. If he can be on the phone with you, when he used to come over to make sure the blanket is nicely tucked under your chin, why can't he be here? Life's so unfair.

"What was that?" He's probably referring to the big loud thump, throwing his toy to the ground made. It's not its fault. Even if it hurt your feelings, it's not responsible for him not being yours. Or maybe it is. He wouldn't give you toys if he were yours. He wouldn't need them. That's probably why Jiyeun doesn't like them. Because she wants him to be all that's pleasuring her. The lucky lucky bitch.

"Your stupid toy."

"Don't- do you know how much it cost?"

"Never told you to buy it."

"Sure, but don't break it! I promise it's good. You can't-"

"It stabbed me!" You accuse, petty.

"You- are insufferable." He sounds about done. Except he's not because he seems to want to prove you wrong, still. The toy on the ground starts shaking back to life. Curiously, you roll on your belly, throw a glance to the ground. It's stirring, moving around slowly, getting closer to you as if it's trying to hop back up on the bed. "Pick it up."

You do as you're told. It's vrooming lightly, quieter than you expected. You can hardly feel it in your palm. The movement more noticeable from the timid sound than by the intensity.

"Oh. It's nice now." Maybe it does have a conscience. It's being all sweet and mellow because the remote is in Jeon Jungkook, international heartthrob's hands.

"See?"

It's really gentle. It turns cute. With its bright orangy-red shade, its two cute ears and its belly, a bit domed to allow a better grip.

Your hand has a mind of its own. If he were to ask about it, to demand an explanation, even when you'll come later, and wonder mad and revolted and half dying of embarrassment, what the fuck came over you, you'd blame it all on your hand. The appendix and its own personal free will are bringing the thing back to your crotch. "You can switch the intensity, it was just at the highest before." You're hardly aware of Jungkook still talking in your ear. The phone on speaker is still laying on the pillow next to you and he's selling it to you, while demonstrating, as if he's signed a sponsorship with the brand. It could be funny but you don't really care, more curious about The Gala and finally getting to know it.

Soon enough you realize that two layers of clothing, no matter how thin, are too much. You lift the hem of his tee, exposing your panties and the lines of your mound, showing through the tissue. It makes sense then, the shape of the thing. It has those two straight ears, or poles, with enough space in between, to tuck your clit comfortably. If you'd like. And you're not sure it won the privilege just yet.

For now, it'll have it but still over your panties. They're so flimsy that really the fitting isn't too far from its initial conceptualized use. "And the modes- see," It's jerky again. It goes for a couple of beats very quick short pulses and then there's a long, monotone one until the pulses come back again. You don't like that one. It's gentler than the one from earlier, that tried to attack your clit with an angry strong beating though. "You can just switch. If you don't like the fast pulses, you don't have to use it. You just try it out." You guess he's right. You just have to try it, tame it. Learn its functions and let it learn you. Probably. Sounds like a lot of work though. The other ones were really straight forward. Good, excellent for some - special shout out to the clit hoover, which is not actually vacuuming but blowing air, which made you cum so fast and so hard in the very first two minutes of trying it. You'd turn it on and it'd do the job. Next to your ear, rambling like a radio you'd forget to turn off in another room, Jungkook is explaining how there are dozens of preset patterns and an infinite amount of slots for personal creations.

It's okay. Sounds like it would do the job. You can already tell how you'll use it if you ever decide to give it a second chance after tonight. Pressed tight against your button, turned a bit higher, in a very basic, very classic constant monotone vibration.

He's switched it to another stabbing like pulsing, very fast and aggressive, you can tell they meant to imitate the pattern of a good pounding but it does little to nothing to your excitation. Really all it does is make your eyebrows frown and your premise of a headache is back. "Hate that one."

"Change it." Kindly, he complies. Another one. You can't really identify it. Maybe a slower thrusting. It's better than the last one simply because it doesn't nearly hurt. Doesn't do much good either. But maybe it's not doing much over your panties though therefore curiously, with eyebrows furrowed now in concentration, you lift the waistband up with a finger and slip the bunny under it. Tentatively, you try to set it nicely where it should be resting, your clit out in the open, hugged tightly by the two ears replacing your lips. It's kinda nice. Barely though.

"So is-"

"Wait, turn it up a bit. I can't even tell what that's doing." You mumble maybe a tiny bit petty, a bit bad faith remaining from the bad impression the toy gave you. It's not that you want to hate because you've decided you would. It's more intricate than that. You're too tipsy to even try and explain that though.

"That one is-" After a while, doesn't do much. The higher setting, you suspect he hasn't gotten up a lot, hardly helps. It does vibrate but it doesn't seem to reach enough, your clit hardly feels anything. Your electrical toothbrush from your horny teenage years used to do a better job at being a vibrator -and this even over your jeans.

You're this close to throwing it to the ground again and give up on it, once and for all. Jungkook would need to understand. It's not because he spent a lot on it, it's not because that strange lady he keeps mentioning insisted on its good, that you are forced to appreciate it. You don't see the fucking point of this one. It does look cute and expensive but is pretty much useless. No one needs a pretty, expensive but awful friend.

"It sucks."

For a few seconds, he doesn't say anything. You consider that he might have even hung up. But then, in the quiet, his voice too serious for him not to have taken what you said personally breaks out. "You're mean."

"I think- I think it's a good opportunity to decide- uh..." The toy is still active in your panties, under your palm. The realization slowed your process of thought for a second but the bigger conclusion that it brings is that really, it sucks. So bad you even forgot it was still on -and it's not you being too drunk to have a fully, 360 awareness of your body, honestly. "To decide collectively that you need, you have to stop buying me those."

"They're not all bad! You loved the other ones!" He accuses, apparently not up for the collective decision. You are probably made of confusion at this point. How many more does he feel the need to get you? Is it that great, that gigantic, that tragic of a frustration that he developed by his girlfriend not liking these that he feels the need to bury you alive with thousands of those? The secretive shelf at the bottom of your dresser already holds little to no place left for another pretty box. And as to the satin bag you use to store the toys themselves, in your bedside table's drawer, you can't even close it anymore.

"When have I ever said that? We talked about one, I said it's fine."

"That's not what you said." Honestly, right now, you have no idea what you said. You know that you didn't find great easiness in talking about them. You've never mentioned any and he never did either, apart from the very first one. You did say something positive about it, you think you can recall. "I don't listen to you anyway because I know how bad of a liar you are."

"Well great. Blatantly admitting you don't care about my feelings-"

He bursts out in laughter. You might be a little bit of a drama queen right now. The hand that is not holding the bunny against your mound -for reasons you don't care to address to yourself, probably for you being so lazy that it feels more like an effort to change your hand's doing, take out and put away the toy, rather than just leave it there quiet and not really bothering- did reach for your chest, in a very theatrical embodiment of an offence.

"That's not what I said, you brat."

"That's what I heard though."

"I said I don't trust your mouth when the rest of you is saying something else entirely." You roll your eyes. Hopefully loud enough for him to hear it on his side of the call. "It's my new passion." He starts, giggling like an idiot. "I won't stop for as long as orgasms will look this good on you."

Oh. My God.

Is he allowed to say that? Is he allowed to say shit like that with the most calm you've ever heard anyone speak with? Like it's normal. Like it's a simple fact. Like the word orgasm in itself isn't so foreign in his mouth. Somehow he makes it sound incredible, so delicious you feel the first proper impulse to your pussy.

"You've never seen it." You counter, uneasy, feeling somehow unbalanced and unprepared against what is probably a simple conversation to him but a real personal attack with too great of weapons to you.

"I've seen the aftermath. I told you already." You wish he'd be more explicit. His words are confusing. They're not telling enough. They can be so much, they might not mean anything. He speaks softly, tranquilly, almost whispers in your ear. It's simply late. It's more appropriate, it feels, to speak quietly like that. It's one of those midnight talks.

He wouldn't know whenever he is seducing you. He's doing it constantly without meaning to. It's just him being himself and you being too weak for him. How could you make out his intentions now?

"You really-" The toy twitches in your hand. He clicked on the switch button of his app again. You're not sure why. From the way he speaks, he might not even have realised. He might be playing with the thing, mindlessly, the way he does when he picks at the skin of his fingers when he talks. He must be because he's still in his own head, talking while the thing, the barely interesting thing, turns into something else. Entirely. It's a wave-like pattern. Growing from pure stillness to a slow, growing vibration that ends in an intense climax. You gasp. He doesn't seem to hear. "You really don't want me to get you any more?"

The second wave hits. "Oh- God."

"I mean- I thought, we were- that it was okay." The sensation is incredible. For some reasons, a technology you don't fucking understand, you wouldn't fucking understand now, every single build hits insanely hard. Each time as intense if not better. You're so close to moaning. If you haven't really taken a second to realize what you were doing, actually using the toy with him on the phone, without him even knowing, somehow you know you need to remain quiet. You can't moan out loud. You sigh loud though. You have to. "I swear with you it's so hard to tell-" It's so hard to keep quiet and the realization brings a grin to your face. You're not that vocal usually. Sometimes you are, with some of the surprisingly good sessions Jungkook's presents have been offering you. But it was conscious. It was you enjoying, wanting to build a bigger pleasure, make it more sensational, it turned you on a bit, you had to admit, to hear yourself. The pleasure the toy is bringing you right now is indescribable. The more you leave it pressed to your clit, the more you feel the heat grow. You know it's already too much. You hiss and sigh, and have to bite back moans each time the high top of the wave comes. It's too much and feels like not enough.

The greedy you would want the final hit of the wave to last longer than those very few seconds. Long enough to bring you there, make you fall over the top of the hill. But it's a teasing setting. Probably programmed specifically for overstimulation. You squirm and bite back whines each time it comes, flinch and have to fight to not tear the ears away because you know the sensation is a lot to handle, too much stimulation, yet you're already addicted, unable to act on the very fair, logical, and sensible decision you should make. You shouldn't even be pleasuring yourself with him on the fucking phone.

"Are you okay?"

Jungkook asks, after having stopped talking altogether for a minute too long but it's not like you were really in any state of mind to acknowledge it.

You don't think he's noticed yet. From the noise, hopefully little, that you were making, at most, he should be able to hear some sort of short breathing, for all you know, he might think nausea is visiting from all the alcohol you've consumed and you're heaving, on the verge of throwing up.

"You're not feeling well, Y/N?" It's his concerned tone. The serious one. The one he uses whenever there's no skip button to the conversation. Usually, it leads to him coming over to take care of you like he's your mother. Which sounds great in theory but doesn't always apply wonderfully in practice.

Sometimes you don't want him to see you looking green and gross from fever sweat; sometimes you just want to be alone and recover on your own without having him watching so dramatically concerned over your shoulder. And now, you wouldn't want him to burst in with your hand still in your panties, a sweaty, bothered, horny mess for him to be left shocked and possibly disgusted by. Maybe disgusted is a big word. Or maybe it's not. How inappropriate is it to masturbate with an unknowing friend on the other end of your phone? Is it even legal?

"I'm fi-fine, Jungkook." You lie through gritted teeth. You can't possibly be fine. You've put yourself in the worst situation and you still don't do shit to get out of it. Something is very much wrong with you.

The logical thing to do, the sensible one, would be to either end the conversation, hang up and then eventually finish yourself; or else, take the thing out of your panties, possibly throw it the further away from you and keep the conversation on if that's what you wish to do.

It would certainly not be to ask for him to turn up the setting because you now really much want to come.

"You don't sound fine."

"But I am."

"How much did you drink?"

"Not that much, Guk." He makes you frown, almost rips a curse out of you. Because all this serious talk is diverting you from your pleasure. It's not like you're going to have fucking alcohol poisoning. You didn't drink that much, honestly. The drinks were not even that heavy, except for the two disgusting shots your friend forced in your hands. "Seriously, I'm good." The building up pleasure has brought a new awareness to your brain, and honestly, you feel way more alert than before. You're far from drunk, no matter how much your behaviour seems to contradict that. You're good. You'd be perfect if he'd shut up or if he'd start half seducing you as he does. Maybe he could talk about your nipples again and what you should do with them.

He did say that. Now that you come to think of it. On top of buying you those toys, he did guide you as to what to do with some of them, how you could use them. They were not his direct advice, they were the lady's but still, he felt the importance to share them with you.

"If you are then just answer the question, how much?"

"Okay in a sec but can you turn up the toy's intensity, please?"

"Turn what?" You almost bark then. The whistling f of a very practical, very useful word you shouldn't yell at him rings to your own ear but you're strong enough to hold back. "Ah the thing, yeah, sure." What a sweetheart. A bit slow, but lovely. Your whole body contracts violently when the newly powered wave hits, the beginning of a moan escaping because it's so good, it's almost painful. "I had like two shots of-" Ah. "Something. I don't know what it was, just-" Fuck. "Gross as- uh." Holy shit, that's good.

You can't believe you've judged this intricate, revolutionary technology so bad before. "And then, like, a martini or two, barely and- and-" You're so fucking close. Each time feels like the final ascension except you get back to square one whenever the vibration drops back to stillness too quick to your liking. It's pure torture. And having to make a fucking list of your consumption that's so far back in your brain right now, especially when you know that it's pointless, is not helping.

"Wait-"

"Jungkook-" You don't know if you're begging him to stop thinking now, not get to the conclusion his logical train of thoughts is trying to lead him to, or if you're begging him to help you cum, maybe be nice to the bunny which only seems to be kind to him and make him make you cum.

"Why did you ask me to turn the thing up?" He already knows the answer. You can hear in his tone that he already knows. And frankly, he's a dumb ass for not realizing sooner. "No, you're joking. You wouldn't- not when I'm talking to you."

"When if not then?" Maybe frustration has brought you some bravery, or maybe pleasure has burned the very last remaining functioning cells of your brain.

"Uh?"

It's probably gone too far now. It still feels like he owns the key to the phenomenal orgasm you can smell coming. If you were to hang up now, you wouldn't even know how to make this shitty thing work. And it's not enough. Still.

Shit.

You're definitely wailing in a second now. The next sound you mean to conceal is a sob. Why can't you reach it? And how can you be so hyper-focused on it, it doesn't seem to matter what's going on with Jungkook.

You've gone crazy. Or perhaps you're drunker than you thought yourself to be. The last wave hits differently. It's straight-up overstimulation when you haven't even come once yet. Doesn't feel very nice but at least, it's the push you need to finally lift it up a bit, make a pause and eventually show some consideration to Jungkook.

"So you've been arguing with me, saying it sucks when really you were-"

"It did suck before you changed the setting." You assert again. Because nagging is the thing you're most talented at doing, apparently.

Silence ensues. In the defeating quiet you realize even the discreet humming of the toy has stopped. He's turned it off.

Something akin to shame is finally showing the tip of its nose. It's been fucking late to the party, you note with a growing, you know to become, devastating mortification. Exhaustion and tipsiness are keeping your conscience quite numb but you don't give a chance to sober-you who'll wake up tomorrow with this awful incident engraved in her memory.

Why can't he say something? Essentially, it's his fault. It's always his fault. He makes you feel things you shouldn't and make you do things you wouldn't. You can't think properly. You're being fucking chaotic and he's responsible for that. Even you know it's reaching. You're not that petty and mean.

In a whisper, dipped in sincerity and shame, you apologize. "Sorry, Jungkook."

"For what?" Because he can't let you off the hook that easily, can he?

"Are you seriously going to make me say it? You know why!" Here comes angry-you again. Getting mad and rude for no rational reasons, and here, awfully unfairly. He really deserves better.

"No, I-" You may have broken him. Jungkook has never been the most eloquent person. Between lisping and stuttering and stopping mid-sentence to let you complete for him his missing words, he's never been the best at talking. But even for him, even knowing his history, you find him pretty affected. Possibly all messed up. There's not even the hint of sensible thought. A void filled with "uh" and "tsk" and lips smacking and hums, it's like he's ceased to function. Maybe if you just hang up and from then on, just pretend it's never happened, both of you can get away with the situation. It's an option.

"Jungkook, seriously, I'm sorry. Let's say it was a fucking, uh, drunk lapse of judgment on my part and- yeah, never mention it again."

"Yeah, okay." He whispers after a while. He sounds really shaken up. "But it's fine, I'm not mad, I'm just-"

"Bamboozled?" You suggest, heart constricted, not ready to joke yet but so desperate to obtain at least a smile from him to prove yourself that it's okay and you didn't fuck it up too bad.

"Bamboozled, indeed." He chuckles, a bit breathless on the phone. You can't help the big sigh that escapes you when relief rushes through you. He doesn't sound too upset with you. "I'm really not mad, I just wouldn't have- I wouldn't have expected this, from you."

Of course not. It makes you cringe. You bury your face in your pillow and release the most intense quiet cry you could manage.

"Sorry." You say again, quiet. Your eyes are prickly. This night is such a mess. You can't make out how you're feeling. It's like your reactions and your reflections all come to their own rhythm, inappropriately, unmatching each other's and certainly unmatching the current situation.

"Stop. And don't-" If you're decomposing yourself progressively, at least, he seems to be getting back to his senses. Voice clearer and more present. "You sound so upset now. Are you embarrassed?" It's a smile you hear in his words. You don't have the right to be mad at him but honestly, you would have hit him in the ribs if he were in front of you.

"Is it even necessary to ask?" You grumble face half suffocating still in the pillow. Oh, here's another solution. Suffocating yourself to death.

"I think so. I mean I bought them and I turned it on for you, I should have- I couldn't have known but I should have. It's fine honestly."

"It's not."

Stop pretending, you fucking liar. Even if he acts quite calm, nonchalant, you can hear a very slight difference to his usual tone. He's not sincerely, honestly, a hundred per cent okay and chill with the situation. He's faking casualness but he's not entirely it.

"It is."

"It's not. I'm just gonna die, Jeon." That makes him laugh even though you're only half-joking. You don't know if it's possible to die from embarrassment. One thing is for sure, if it's possible, you won't survive the night.

"No, you're not, baby. It's fine." Jeon Jungkook is the sweetest, needless to say. You should hang up. Apologize again, hang up and pray for him to forgive you and eventually forget all about it. But you remain on the phone because you're so desperate for his approbation and his love and any sign of reassurance from him. And he's giving it to you. When he could probably have a little rest of his own. If it's awkward for you, you can't even imagine for him. But he accepts to stay and reassures you. What a cutie. "Did you cum?"

You choke on your own saliva. More than taken aback, actually shocked. How dares he?

Or can you say that? Can you act offended when you've just done what you did? In any case, how are you even supposed to answer that question?

"You- It's just that I turned it off and we- I was just wondering if you did..." That sounds about right. That sounds like Jungkook being curious and wording this curiosity without necessarily anticipating how you'd take it. It must be part of his plan, his 'let's be the closest, let's share everything' plan he mentioned a few months back. You're not ready, won't ever be if that's what it'll look like.

You are the problem. Apparently, you can get yourself off when the poor boy is on the phone with you unbeknownst, but you still have a hard time talking about sex with him. "...because it sounds awful if you did not."

And it is. It is horrible. You'd imagine that after getting caught, feeling so embarrassed and guilty, your cunt wouldn't still be quivering and begging for you to pay attention to it again. But you've taken it so far. Made it discover new incredible sensations of course it'd still be obsessed with it and with the climax the toy teased it with.

You groan in your pillow again. Not sure how he'll interpret it. Not sure how you want him to interpret it. Should you just talk to him? He could hang up too. If really he didn't want to partake in this mess he could hang up, he could talk about anything else.

"Listen, you don't ever have to be embarrassed with me, you know that." That's reaching. You want to tell him that he can't ever say that to someone, he can't ever become anyone's mat to wipe their dirty shoes on. He should be the one feeling awkward, being mad at you, except he reassures you again. "And when you just proceed on getting yourself off while I was talking- worrying about your fucking health..." He snorts before he can finish. "How dare you act coy with me!" He's just laughing too hard now, contributing wholeheartedly to the burning flush on your cheeks. Well, you deserved it.

"Is that it? You're going to bring this up each time you'd want something from me?" You sound so upset, even to your own ears. It results in his laughter dying down pretty quickly.

"I think so, yeah." You don't add anything. You don't want to be rude. Still hope for any kind of magic word you don't even know that he could mutter to you and that'll help cure your heart and soul. Therefore you can't tell him goodbye and hang up. You wait for him to do it. Except he doesn't. It's late as fuck too. He might be working later today. Why isn't he hanging up? "If I'm talking about it, you should know that it's fine. I don't mind." An asshole and a cutie. "You okay, babe?"

The simple hum you tried to aim for turns into half of a whimper half of a moan. You're not okay. Any part of your being won't let you lie and pretend.

"Do you want me to turn it on?" For fuck's sake. "I'll hang up and leave it on so you just- it'll turn itself off when there's no battery left anyway."

"Jungkook." Your stern voice is a threat. It doesn't have to be further explained, he gets it.

"What?" He sounds aggravated. You can imagine him raising his hands to the skies, upset and losing patience as he's only trying to make it better for you and oh women are so complicated. Something like that. "Oh my God. Just get yourself off and feel better after."

"You don't tell me what to do." Childish but there's not much left of your brain. "Well, you don't even fucking know what to do with yourself right now. Am I right or am I right?" He whisper-yells back at you. Very mean.

"Asshole." It's a tiny whisper under your breath but you're certain he hears it even if he completely ignores it.

"Listen, since you can't even- how old are you, seriously?"

"Fuck you." Barely louder. You definitely know he's heard this time, but still, he decides to dismiss it. He's always been more productive than you.

"I'll turn it on and hang up. You take care of yourself like a big girl, alright?" He probably believes that you can't get yourself to ask for what you want aka a wild night with the fucking toy you can't get to work yourself. But it's not actually the case. Honestly. Now all you can think about -besides the whole very humiliating moment when he caught you in the act- is the way it kept torturing you, bringing you very high but never enough. It started to hurt at the end, brought impatient frustrated tears to your eyes. You don't even think you could finish with it.

Maybe it's inappropriate to seriously consider it. Maybe you won't ever learn your lesson.

Before you even get to word your refusal, the thing is on. It's on the same devilish setting as earlier. The merciless wave. Fuck.

"Don't! It's not- it won't even make me cum, stop it!"

"What? Why not?"

"I don't know the setting is weird." You start explaining through the thicker pout to have ever existed. You're really considering having him solve your climax. You've gone crazy.

"What's wrong with it? Tell me, I'll put on one you like."

Fuck.

You are doomed.

What are you supposed to do with a guy like this?

"I don't think there is." You can hear the frustration from his end before he even says a word. It's written in the stars that in a second he's going to bring it all up, the part when you got off and pester that you can't still be complaining about the fucking toy. "No, I mean it's- the one I liked, the last one you clicked on, it's like-" Fuck, you're really doing this. "A wave. You know? It grows crescendo but it always stops right before- right when it's really good. And I just couldn't- because the good part doesn't last long enough and, yeah."

"Wait, let me look." He sounds a bit further away from you then. He's logged back into the app, you can tell. And with his tiny "hm" and his "so...", he sounds the way he does when your computer is being difficult and he's trying to fix it because you won't pay a professional to do it when you have this nerd populating your entourage. "Ah. You want the high moment to last longer?" "Yes." You can picture him nod to himself, frowning his eyebrows and sucking his lips in the way he does when he's super focused.

"Like that?" You wouldn't know because the toy is lost somewhere, you can hear it but not see it. You ask him to wait for a second and it stops altogether. Doesn't make it easier to find it but it wasn't lost that far. Once you have it in your hand, you gulp, ashamed, not sure if you could ever play with this thing again. But the other guy on the phone doesn't seem to have his motivation falters. You're not the one telling him to try again, on his own, he executes.

It's hard to tell in your hand, the vibrating ears hugged tightly in your palm, if it's going to be satisfactory enough. If it's precisely the thing that was missing from earlier. It follows the pattern you asked him though. Still to a growing intense high that lasts for approximately a good ten seconds rather than the lame 2 seconds from earlier.

"I think so..."

"Okay then. You... mute yourself and then- Uh, no. I should mute myself so- or we both mute ourselves?" He's not really with you anymore. Lost in his own head amongst those seemingly very difficult questions. You don't even get where he's trying to get at. Wasn't he supposed to hang up?

"Why would you stay?"

"It's just- it's me doing it. There's no setting for what you want, it's me doing it. I have to draw the frequency on my phone."

"There's an option for that?"

"Yes. There's even one to have it follow audio!" He points out with way too much enthusiasm. He might have really found a new passion.

"Sounds like high tech."

"Yep."

"Sounds expensive as hell."

He laughs in the mic, snorts even before he brushes it off. Quite frankly, no matter what you'd have to say to him, he'd always do as he wishes. If spending ridiculous amounts of money on ridiculous things for ridiculous you is what he wants to do, he won't let anyone, not even you, tell him not to.

You don't know what to say, he's not saying anything either. He suggested something quite insane: he'd stay. While his finger would be drawing shapes on his screen to actively give you your pleasure, he'd stay on the phone with you. Maybe it's a bit hypocritical or ironical, how it sounds crazy to you now while ten minutes ago, you had no problem doing it without him knowing. That's probably the main issue here, him knowing. That changes everything.

"But if you stay-"

"We can't both mute ourselves because I won't hear if you ask me to change something or- so you, you just stay like that and I'll mute myself."

"Jungkook, you muting yourself won't change my awareness of you being here."

"But maybe you'll forget about it?"

"Jungkook."

"What?" He sounds contrite then. Like an upset child who's being argued with. He's trying so hard but you make it so difficult, it seems.

There's just one thing holding you back. Until now you couldn't quite pinpoint it. And it's hard to resolve an issue you can't name.

But it just hit you. His way of insisting while making it seem like he does it for you only, to help you out and doesn't necessarily find his part in the cake.

"Do you want to?"

"Uh?"

"You sound like- I don't know what you sound like. You're confusing. If you're just trying to give me a hand and solely that then hang up and I'll just- whatever."

"Oh."

"Of course, it makes no sense for you to do this for me and stay if you don't want to, I mean." He takes forever to answer. For a second, you even peek at your screen wondering if he didn't simply quit the conversation.

It's really all you need to know. If somehow, to some extent, he wants you or at least, wants to partake in this genuinely. You don't want it if it's just a bro hand. You can hardly live with what you've done if he's utterly uninterested. But if he does want it, even a little bit, you might be wrong but you feel like everything would turn out to be fine.

"It's not that hard of a question." You try again because it almost feels like he's forgotten you from how long he's remained silent. He had put you on the spot, in this very conversation too, so many times, you have the right to do the same to him, at least once. "Do you want to stay?"

He cracks up. It's the very hard kind of laughter. With the boyish chuckles, mixed with the squeaky intakes of air. The one that always brings a smile to your face and usually drags you along the fit.

You have no idea what it means right now. It's probably the least appropriate time for it to show up. Therefore instead of making you smile it only reinforces the headache slowly growing at your temple.

"Aah." He starts by exhaling longly. You can hear the grin fixed on his face. "Yes." Your heart trips in your rib cage. You should have guessed it but you couldn't have imagined this answer. And him laughing to tears like a fucking deranged infant doesn't help. "Shit, sorry." He apologized when the remnant of what sounds definitely like a giggle resonates in through the phone.

"What's so funny, Guk?" Your words don't match your tone. You're high under pressure, unsure of what's actually going on. Jungkook is not cruel, you've known him long enough to know that he wouldn't deliberately hurt you, wouldn't mess with you so bad, for so long, even for a great laugh. Still, you can't be convinced that he's sincere. Seriously, how could you? The dude won't stop fucking laughing.

"Nothing, I'm just- I didn't realize until you asked me the question that I wanted to." Oh. "I'm an idiot."

"Welp." Could have told you sooner but I thought you knew.

"Mean. And, uh," It sounds like he's tossing and turning in bed again. You bet he's just gotten the exact same position as before. He's like those cats that turn around in circles again and again until they settle for the initial spot. When he starts talking again, his voice is hardly a whisper, you assume he's holding the mic very close to his mouth. "I should ask you too. Do you want to?"

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't want it, moron." Patience has run thin. Now that you're reassured you don't have to be ashamed and embarrassed anymore, you can simply be annoyed as you get with him.

Honestly, you're still feeling abashed but he doesn't need to know that.

"Quit being mean. It's not my fault I'm slow." He says, faking deep pity and it does make you snort. "Okay, well..."

"Well, indeed."

"You're making this awkward!" You roll your eyes. Feels like you can sort this out. If you do take out the very blatant, scorching awkwardness, it's a very regular interaction between you. Sounds like any other day except in a second he's going to press a finger to his phone in hopes to make you cum.

"Your whole existence is awkward."

"Shut up. Let's just fucking start." He groans as if you're the one belating the initial step –you are but so is he.

"I don't have the fucking remote." He tells you to shut up again, and this time, when you hear him hum to himself when he's opening the app, there's a recognizable brushing noise falling directly in your ear.

"You put your earbuds on."

He doesn't answer but you're sure he's registered the question.

Fine.

If he doesn't want to give you an answer you'll just make up your own. Don't you put earbuds on to hear better? Just saying.

"Put the thing on."

"Oh my God, Jungkook-" You take back your own admission. He's the one, solely, all alone, making it painfully awkward. Sounding like a newly pubescent teen trying to initiate sex. "Could you be any smoother?"

"But-" He sighs. "Do you want me to?" How do you ask your best friend you've may have been in love with for officially a couple of months to please act like an ideal lover even if it's just very short-termed? He sounds willing. But asking is the most difficult part. "I can be- or do whatever you want, I just don't know-"

"I like it when you call me baby." Your whole face is scrunched up in a perfect picture of your intense embarrassment. Formalities need to get fucking out of the way and it's precisely what you've just tried to do. But holy shit, it's painfully embarrassing.

"Oh. Do you now?"

Here comes the smirk. Can't see it. Can hear it clearly. It's pretty much louder than his words even.

You want to tell him to forget it all. That it's not going to work if each fucking second he makes you feel like he's going to be using whatever you say or whatever you do against you later on. You decide to demonstrate exemplary patience, reminding yourself that he's not cruel. Admittedly.

Perhaps you're the idiot and it's all your fault. Because you've just admitted (without him even asking) that you like (and into these circumstances, that it turns you on) to have him call you baby. Thing that he does already every time he starts coddling you.

"Okay then." He startles you, clearing his throat. You wonder if he's as anxious as you are, or at least, a tiny bit nervous. For the most part, he doesn't seem like it. Then again, he's quite good at pretending.

It shows soon after when he starts again, this time with the gentle, soft voice he hardly ever uses with you. There's a tiny newcomer, a certain edge that gives it some firmness and that enchants you. That's exactly what you wanted him to be. "Put it on, babe."

You nod wordlessly, omitting that he can't see you and do as told. Slipping the toy under the waistband of your panties, guiding the ears aside your clit. There's a very faint buzzing coming from them. You barely feel it and you suppose it's just there to have you accommodate better.

"Are you still dressed?"

"It's just my panties and a big shirt." Your shirt you'd add if you had a bit more courage. You hope he's going to let you keep it.

"Take your panties off." The part of you who's his best friend wants to nag, tell him that maybe he should have asked that before demanding you place the toy on your cunt but you feel generous and merciful, and also desperate and tired of your orgasm being stalled for so long. "Are they soaked from earlier?" Okay, this shit's going to be hard. There's no coming back. Strangely, it's just now that it's really hitting you. Even if it's going well, there is no way, you'll ever forget his velvety smooth whisper saying those words. There's no way you're helpless cunt ever forgets.

They are, by the way. You don't even get how you've been able to keep them on and ignore the uncomfortable stickiness for this long. Just sliding them along your thighs feels disagreeable.

"Y/N." Sounds like you're getting scolded. And even if you particularly like the way he just said your name, with that same peculiar edge from earlier, a little sharper then, how are you supposed to answer that? "What did you say earlier? That it can't only be for you, is that right?"

"Yes." You admit sheepishly because now you're definitely getting scolded. It brings flush on your only newly temperate cheeks and you don't even hate it.

"Then I'll give you everything, I told you I would but I'll need you to give me some back. Can you do that?" He sounds so strict, how can you like it so much? You can literally feel the electricity along your spine, sliding down to go faint in the hot mess between your thighs and that's ridiculous. You hate being talked to that way, usually, probably because it's never him doing it. Jeon Jungkook might be your ultimate kink. And somehow, he figured it all out. That whatever he'd do would fit you perfectly well. Also, he might be turning like that because undeniably, you're a brat. "Can you?" He insists again because whilst you've been busy trying not to hyperventilate, he's been waiting for one answer.

"Yes. Yes, I can. Sorry."

"Don't apologize, it's fine." You should want to bite him. Why insist so much if it's to end up leaving you off the hook so easily? You know though, for a fact, awfully bothersome to your ego, that if he were in front of you presently, you'd give him puppy eyes and batting lashes, sad pouty lips and probably tend your neck to invite him to gently pat your hair. "Tell me, are your panties soaked?" "I think I ruined them..."

"You did, didn't you?" He's laughing a bit, kind of full of himself for some reasons. Maybe he knows that it's mainly his fault they ended up this way. Maybe he knows they are not the only pair fallen victim to simply the thought of him. "Was it worth it?"

"You're taking care of me so I'd say yes." A chortle. A purr that you interpret into something you like a lot. It sounds like he's taken your response for exactly what you wished him to. A tease. He makes your belly churns and twists, turns your nerves from your heart to your noggins haywire. The least he can allow you to do, the least you'd like to do, is for him to be affected by you.

It starts with a gentle buzzing. It's nothing much. Nothing at all, you'd say if you'd let your greediness and impatience talk. There's something else doing it for you, for now. Jungkook's breath, sort of heavy, slow, rocking you with warmth. Knowing he's here and here to please you; you're laid in bed, naked from the waist down, wet and about to make it all better thanks to him; the picture itself makes it all for you.

"How is it?" Jungkook asks after some time. It's been silent. You haven't said much, in fact, you haven't said anything yet. Not that ready to demand more, and not feeling enough for moans or whimpers or whatever to be stolen from you.

"Boring." You admit. "S'not what you were supposed to give me." Through a thick pout, you deplore.

It doesn't work. He doesn't care. He doesn't fucking care when he's playing exactly the role you've implicitly asked him to play. "Have you said please, even once?" You hate that he's virtually pinning you down with exactly what turns you on.

"I- Probably." You haven't said much. You haven't been so explicit, so telling simply because you couldn't, but surely, you said please. Didn't you?

"Not probably. You did not. And on top of that, you're complaining." He's figured out exactly what you wanted, what you needed. Therefore, as naturally as it came for him, you fit it your own role easily.

"I'm not complaining. I was just- pointing it out. Sorry."

"You can apologize a lot but you can't even say please. Not once." Well, fuck. You never thought that he could be mean. Awfully mean. You wished, when you let your mind wander there one too many time, a bit too deep, that he'd be like that. Sweet and soft and tender the way he is, always, but also, bad, kind of harsh. "Ask kindly, once."

"Jungkook-"

"I'll give you everything you want. Just once."

"Please, Jungkook." You know he's satisfied with what you offer him because you don't have to wait another second for him to give you precisely what you were waiting for. It's timid, follows the crescendo built you were looking for except it's not intense. It's the first step however it's incredibly effective. It feels as good as the first time. "Plea-please." Manifestly, it is the secret word, the passcode to your pleasure because the intensity you're craving for finally reaches you. It does in an electrifying peak, that lasts long, just like you asked, it's so good, the feeling so perfectly indulgent to your needs, maybe even too much, you squirm, part the little ears from your clit, hissing. "Shit, Jungkook!"

"Too much, baby?" The hypocrite, with his concerned tone, doesn't even take a break from activating the vibration, from keeping on building the intensiveness. You can tell it's he too, him really doing it live, as in it's not absolutely regular, the built sometimes takes longer, sometimes the volume stronger, other times weaker. It's undeniable, every minute of it feels different from the next, you can't even omit for a second that it's him doing it. And he's doing it so well.

"Per- fect, just- sensitive." You moan out. Back arching, right leg twitching. The next brush is particularly nice, goes so far you believe you might come on the spot. Now you definitely can't hold back even if you wanted to. The sounds that come out of your mouth, foreign to your own ears, are not even yours. They come straight from your body, straight from an excess of pleasure you try to deal with, to handle, when you clearly can't. You're alone, and it's you ultimately controlling the power on your own body, you can pull out, even slightly, every time it comes hard and strong and you ought to twitch uncomfortably. You wonder how it'd be if he were here with you. If he forgot just for a while that you were his best friend, the girl who used to be older and taller and has turned, with the years, into this tiny little thing because he just kept on growing and growing, sprouting like a fucking redwood, and now feels like he needs to protect and care for you. If he were there, and he could forget that, you bet, his present voice, heated, scorching, is telling you this, that probably, he'd hold you down, crush your body with his, hand pressing your thighs down and apart, and force you to take the pleasure in its entirety. You imagine him merciless, slipping sweet words in your ear, while he'd have you literally scream from overstimulation.

And then his voice, the perfectly alluring thing, concludes to let you know it won't happen like that. His voice will make you come.

"You sound so good." Especially, if he keeps saying shit like that, with this tone, soft yet strong and highly, terribly affected. He's breathing hot and heavy in your ears. Is he touching himself?

"Please, Jungkook." You implore, vainly, hips slowly grinding against the toy, pressed by your palm on your sensitive centre.

"Especially begging, 'sound so, so good." He's not touching himself. He sounds bothered, but not enough, he doesn't stutter like you do, his voice doesn't jump and dip, stops momentarily like yours does. Shit, you wished he would play with his cock. Fuck, you want to play with his cock. So fucking bad.

"Y-you like it?" You ask, not because you're curious to know, he's said it already, but because you won't ever get tired of hearing him say it, in all those different ways.

"I do, baby. I love hearing you." You can't help the curse that leaves your lips a bit harsh. You're so close. So so close. Eyes filled up to the brim, tip of your nose wet. How many times have you thought, already, that you were seriously going to fall over? "You gonna cum?"

"I can't-" You sob, whine. There's a tear spilling from your right eye. "It's too much." So attentive to your every word, the intensity drops drastically. It still buzzes, discreet, way more tolerable. Ironically, if you can now bear it, you know it's not enough to lead you to your climax either. "Help me, make me cum, Guk."

"Use your fingers." He's been nice, essentially, you can only be good to him. Without even having to think about it, you dip your fingers in the mess that is your cunt. Two fingers slip in between your lips too easily, you could add a third if only there wasn't the bunny taking a bit too much room, and your fingers were longer, and your hips not so twitchy. If Jungkook was here, if only he was here, he'd fit his two fingers and it'd be enough. You bet it'd be enough. You bet his pretty, long, tattooed fingers would stretch you so well and make you come in a heartbeat. "Fuck yourself with them."

It's so gratifying. Having him humming in your ear encouragements and compliments. He's sweet, sweet, sweet. Excellent with his voice. Fuck, he must be unreal with his fingers, with his mouth, with his fat cock.

Diligently, you drag your fingers in and out, it's only mildly agreeable when you're sopping wet, almost gaping. Until he draws on his phone the same magnificent pattern from before.

You wish it'd last longer. It's precisely what you needed, the ideal combination. Along with his words.

You know if you come he'd have to stop. He'll stop calling you baby, stop saying how sexy you are, use all those nasty words he never does and talking like that, with this voice, with this heat in his tone. It's a bothering thought at the back of your mind you have to actively push away.

There's nothing you can do when harshly, yet with a please, he demands you to cum.

You can feel your cunt, wide open from both your spread legs and the excitation, getting wet, growing soaked. You can actually feel it as it happens before you explode. Clenching violently around your fingers, spilling all over them, you might squeak and scream and moan his name continuously, you barely hear yourself through your ringing ears.

"Fuck, Jungkook..." You sigh. Laying there, boneless, hand dripping up to your wrist. He's chuckling. "Fuck."

"Feeling better?" You hmm in response. Words sound like too much effort right now. Your brain is working slow. Extremely slowly. There's a multitude of thoughts forming though, germinating from a strange ground.

One, in particular, does, enlarging ridiculously much next to the others. You could enjoy this luck. You could just bathe in the lovely, perfect haze. Accept that the sky is perfectly blue without a cloud, with even a rainbow somewhere. Maybe a double rainbow even.

There's a very, very dark, very, very large cloud invading your perfect sky though. And because tears, of another kind, have already located your eyes, the new ones fit in, mixing up with them and taking over them with utter ease. What the fuck have you done?

"Jungkook, I'm so sorry-" You start with a tremble in the voice. There's a fat lump in your throat.

"Why? What's going on, baby?" He's sweet as honey, back to his usual self, worried, and you're horrible.

"Your- I didn't even think about her and-" There's a sob bubbling out of your mouth. "It's not me. I didn't mean to-"

"What are you talking about?"

"Jiyeun." The taste in your mouth when you say her name, is unbearable. You know full fucking well you shouldn't say her name. You shouldn't be allowed to. How dare you. Spoil it when you spent way too long virtually getting in this guy's, who's someone else's boyfriend, pants.

"Dumbass." It makes you choke on your own sobs. "It's over. With her, I mean. We broke up." Ah. You want to ask a billion questions. Starting with "again?". Soon followed up by a "why didn't you say anything, dickhead?". You spent the whole fucking night, getting shit faced and spiritually crying in the club over a couple that does not even exist anymore. Then you'd ask for how long they are planning to be over. "For good, this time." You're barely drying up your fat crocodile tears when he calls you an idiot again, says something about how he's not that kind of guy and you should know it.

Feels better. The thunderstorm is gone.

Alcohol and horniness and hardcore loving are such a terrible combo you need to avoid.

"Cuddles." Tiredly, half-dead, but still alive enough to be greedy, to feel sensible, skinned and want him to give you more. "Come cuddle." He's late to answer, delays it as if you don't desperately need his response.

It's terribly quiet and still. The dark of the night seems even more sombre. He can fix everything if only he'd give you the answer you desire.

"You sure?"

"Always." You say, maybe too honest. He doesn't seem to mind, agrees with a snort.

"Alright."

He appears in front of you in the blink of an eye. Literally. That blink does last longer than usual. The orgasm may have crushed you. You close your eyes and when you open them back up, he's here. Standing in the doorframe of your bedroom, dressed in all black and oversized, as usual. You look up, eyes squinted, bothered by the light coming from the hallway. He's staring. Gaze brushing, from your head to your toes, seemingly slowing down when they reach your naked thighs.

"What?" You mumble, embarrassed, one hand sliding down just to make sure the hem of the shirt is covering your crotch. You didn't even put your panties back on. You may or may not have wiped yourself clean enough with the wet wipes wisely sitting on your bedside table -you thought about it really hard but you can’t remember if you actually did it.

"You never mentioned it was my t-shirt you were wearing." You shrug. You'd have a better come back if you weren't so tired and if it wasn't simply true. "Would have been nice to know." He says, kneeling down next to your bed. The latter is low, mattress barely raised from the ground and even when he's crouching down, he's hovering above you, looking down on you. "Easier to picture." He adds quieter the closest he comes to you. It's enough words to know who he is at the moment. In what form, what version of your Jeon Jungkook, has come to visit. It's the gentle one. The one whose voice doesn't raise, doesn't feel as animated as his usual one when he spends his time being a clown to make everyone laughs. The one that made you fall, the first time. Not exactly the one you had on the phone with you earlier and even if you like him, if you adore him in fact, you feel sort of uneasy, worried. He might be gone forever, this one.

Unless it is him. His hands reach forward, large and warm, they lie on your thighs. The fingers brush up a bit, to the hem of his shirt, and they stop there. He looks up from them, straight in your eyes, smiles, digs the tips in the meat of your thighs before he lifts you up, aiming for the border of your bed.

God. You hope it'll happen again. But differently. More in-depth. He'd be less dressed, he would manhandle you, before he'd do some unnamable things to you. But another day. One when you're not almost dead. When you feel hornier and less soft and desperate for direct comfort to your swollen heart. It could be tomorrow when you wake up. If he's up for it. Please God, make it so he's up for it.

Jungkook hops on the bed behind you, huffs comfortably, holding your cover by a corner to bring it up and over the two of you. He fits behind you too naturally for it to be the first time. He doesn't seem to mind that you're so underdressed, compared to the other times, that you still have some remnant of your orgasm on you, that it's different. His arm sliding around you, holding a bit too tight, pressing you a tiny bit too hard, you're still hot from earlier. It's perfect though. You don't want him to move an inch and you hope, the hand that's wrapped on his forearm, makes him understand.

"M'not too clingy?" His own cheek pressed hard to your own, he asks, which is weird. How could he still wonder? He's never ever been too clingy. Even when you were kids and he followed you around before even asking if he could, he wasn't too clingy. The closest, the better. You deny with a uh-uh. He calls out for your name when you're fighting to keep your eyelids open. It's the most comfortable, the warmest you've ever felt. Like a cocoon of pure love and adoration. On top of it, there's his hard arms around you, his hard thigh pushing against yours, his crotch -with the feel of his member, slightly stiff- glued to your butt, and his chest, as hard as the rest, holding your back up like a strong wall. "I promise I didn't plan the whole toys thingy for that."

"For what?" Sleepily, you wonder, actually confused from exhaustion. To cuddle with you? Like you haven't in so, so long. Why would he try to apologize for it? "To use them with you."

"What a shame." You don't think he can understand. Diction is not something you care for at the moment. The hard laugh bubbling in his chest, rumbling, shaking your whole, lets you know he did, in fact, get it.

"You're so-" He starts but the thought dies way too soon for you to even try and complete it yourself. "I'll have a billion questions for you tomorrow."

"No." You whine. Because he's fucking up everything. If he believes you'll say it all to him, there's no way you can. There's no way you will. He chuckles.

Doesn't seem to be taking you seriously.

"Yes. And you'll answer every single one of them." He gives a sweet but pressing kiss to your neck.

"No."

"I adore you." Fucking hell. "I broke up with Jiyeun because I adore you too much. I realized I want to spend all my time and energy on my best friend." You don't even know what he means. You can't even hold your eyelids open now, you can't even keep your hand on his arm, it being too heavy and sleep having taken over most of your body.

You bet he's saying that just because he's guessed it. He's figured you all out and the asshole doesn't mind playing with your soft heart. He knows he'll get anything from you if he's this good. Hopefully, tomorrow, he'll have forgotten about his little interrogation because you're not sure you'll be able to lie. For now, he's holding you way too close for you to care. Whatever. May it last forever, this feeling.

A/N: DON’T HATE ME OKAY?! i know i have an issue with angst and endings, for some reasons, i don’t want to hurt my characters but i can’t get myself to write an actual fully happy, non-ambiguous conclusion, and i’m really sorry for it lmao.

i sincerely hope you enjoyed the last part of The Wishlist! Thank you immensely for anyone who’s followed along, please let me know your thoughts, i really really want to know :)

for now, i’m sending you lots of love and kisses, take good care of yourself and others, see ya very very soon :]

tag list: @safi4x​ @kai-kai-bookshelf​ @somewhereinthestarss​ @hsinmyheart​ @moonchild1​ @monvieesdaebak @pasteljoonie​ @fangirls94​ @jinsalpaca​ @ggukkieland​

[moons-and-stars-and-shit]

Hii! May i ask for a slice of cake? (If you can ofc)

So im a INFP-T virgo im also 4"11 i have dark brown hair it because wayy lighter near the sun. Also dark brown eyes my hair is cut kinda like a shag like the front is cut but the back isn't (bc of my parents) my style is grunge ig? Im very inlove with fairy style Smm but because im broke i cant really fulfil my love for that style (also probably because of my parents). My body is???? Okay my boobies are medium size and no unfortunately I don't have a fat ass 😕 im not chubby but at the same time im not skinny. Like the most fat goes to my tummy I get rolls when I sit down bath blah you get my point (im pretty insecure about it lolol). One of my two main dreams is to study abroad and become an interior decorator.

I dont know how to describe my personality but I will try. My best friend always tells me that my sense of humour is downhill BAD. I would laugh at the dumbest shit ever for example i laughed one of those pixilated bugs pics with random names on the bottom 💀 also I laugh at my own trauma and stuff that shouldn't be laughed at. I kinda have anger issues 😕 I get unmotivated pretty easily. I rant to my best friend alot and she says that im ✨depressed✨ and have ✨anxiety✨ and that i need therapy. Im scared to rant to my parents because im "too young and its just my hormones". Something that I found out about myself this year is i have chill tics 😦 (from anxiety). Outside im nice and sweet but on the inside my mind is just saying other things. Im SOMETIMES cold and say what's on my mind but thats to my close ones like my mom dad or friends. I dont lie going Outside alot I think school is kinda useless. I like to draw and listen to music my fav artist are mother mother and mitski.

I hope i didn't say TOO much anyway thank youu I hope you have/had a great day :)

🍰 for @shotosimp2

Romantic Matchup

Oikawa Tooru

How yall met

Ok im ngl

Y'all had know clue who each other were

Well that's a lie

Of course you knew who Oikawa was

But you just didn't care

Now Oikawa always saw you around school

You know...in the school uniform

But one day

He saw you outside of school in all of your grunge glory

And apart of him was like bitch wtf

And the other was like ok queen i see you 😗

So he approached you and complimented your outfit

And you said thanks and then ran off to wherever you were heading

Wait

You just said thanks???

No fan girling????

Not even a blush??????

Nothing????????????

OIKAWA.EXE HAS STOPPED WORKING

Ok he would understand that reaction if you were just a stranger on the street

But you went to school with him?

So you had to know who he was right?

Yeah my mans had a whole ass crisis because you didn't have a bigger reaction

The next day he went to Iwa and told him about his interaction with you

And he was just like not everyone was to like you ya know

Oikawa: >:o

Then Iwa had a brilliant idea

Get this

Maybe

Oikawa should BEFRIEND you before expecting you to want to talk to him

Wild theory I know

So now Oikawa had a new goal

Befriending you

It actually wasn't that hard since you both had a lot of classes together

Soon enough you guys became close friends

And oikawa was happy with just being your friend

At least...he thought he was

But everything changed when you told him you were going to study abroad for 3 months

And even though you had each others numbers

Everything without you just seemed so dull

Omg

Did he really have feelings for you?

The more time that passed by the more he was sure that he liked you

Like LIKED liked you

So the day you came back to Japan is when he confessed to you

And well you'd be lying if you said you hadn't caught feelings for him too

So you said yes

What they love about you

He loves how normal you treat him

Now hell admit when he first met you he kinda wanted you to treat him like a celebrity

Expected it even

But the more time he spent around you

The more he realized how much he liked being treated normally

Ok screw what your friend says

He loves your humor!

Yall will laugh at the dumbest shit

If we were to look at you and Oikawa's messages

85% of it would be dumb ass memes

And honestly

This boy makes jokes about his trauma too

“Hey Y/N you wanna hear a joke?”

“Sure”

“My existence”

“...”

“...”

“Ayyyyy”

“Ayyyyy”

He loves how easy it is to talk to you

Like he's told you things he hasn't even told Iwa before

And Iwa is his CHILDHOOD BESTIE

So yeah

Trust between you two

ASTRONOMICAL

What you love about them

You love how supportive he is

If you say you wanna do something

He is right behind you cheering you on

You could tell him you want to commit arson

And he'd just be like

Period queen ill bring the gasoline 💅

You can always count on this man to be in your corner

Speaking of

You can always count on oikawa period

Which is another thing that you love about him

If oikawa is anything

He is a man of his word

If he says hes gonna do something

You know he's gonna do it

He's just overall a really reliable person

You love how he just seems to motivate you to do better

Fr after you guys started dating your grades went

Partly because you felt like you needed to compete with him

But mostly because he just motivates and pushes you to do better

And if you do improve on something

He is HYPING you up

“That's my baby! I knew you could do it!”

Favorite things to do together

Yall love to just go to the store and window shop

Im sorry but yall are some broke hoes

So most of the time it's just you guys trying on clothes in the dressing room

Taking pictures of your outfits

Then leaving

Yeah the store employees kinda hate you…

But who cares what they think

And if you two do have some pocket cash you'll buy one or two things

Then blow the rest of your money on that good mall food

Cause why not

Random Hc

He makes fun of your guys height difference ALL THE TIME

But like, can you blame him????

You're not even 5 feet tall!!!

“Imagine being the size of a 10 year old, couldn't be me”

Imagine being taller than the national average height 😐, couldn't be me”

“Touche”

He let you dress him up as an E-Boy ONCE

Ngl tho he dug the eyeliner look 😗

He called you every day while you were studying abroad

He even sent you a oikawa plushie

You may or may not have sent him a video of you drowning it

When you came back to Japan he legit TACKLED you in the middle of the airport

Astrology

Virgo + Cancer

Compatibility 80%

Cancer and Virgo can have a wonderful connection and are usually brought together by sexual understanding.

The main problem of their relationship is in the possible conflict between emotional Cancer and reasonable Virgo.

If they manage to overcome this, accepting each other’s shortcomings and learning to incorporate some rationality or some emotion into their lives, they could end up in an inspiring relationship that will last for a very long time.

In a way, they complement each other as much as the heart complements the mind.

If they share a spark of love, it would be a shame to miss the opportunity for happiness just because of someone’s irrational expectations or someone’s closed heart.

If someone can help Virgo build their trust, it is their Cancer partner.

Although Cancer is a cardinal sign, they are stable by nature, especially when it comes to emotional decisions they have made.

If they have chosen Virgo to be their loving partner, they will have no reason to lie or cheat.

This behavior would only endanger their vision of a shared life and a loving family they want with the partner they chose.

This is also a reason why Cancer won’t have an initial problem with trusting Virgo.

Their convictions are stronger than their doubt.

Overall Aesthetic

Grunge Glamour ✨

Songs -

Tia tamera (Doja Cat)

Verbratem (mother mother

Literal Legend (Ayesha Erotica)

Hayloft (mother mother)

Stupid (ashnikko)

[thewritingstar]

Ah well were all at home better ask all 200 questions g, don't really know much about u

200 QUESTIONS???? ALRIGHT HERE YA GO. 

hope you enjoy me spending an hour answering all of these :) 

200: My crush’s name is: N/A 199: I was born in: 2000 198: I am really: nice 197: My cellphone company is: idk 196: My eye color is: Hazel, can turn dark brown or light green sometimes 195: My shoe size is: 8 194: My ring size is: 7 I think 193: My height is: 5′3 192: I am allergic to: penicillin  191: My 1st car was: Toyota  190: My 1st job was: Baskin Robbins  189: Last book you read: Suicide Notes (highly recommend)  188: My bed is: galaxy bedding and is currently on the floor in my bed fram cause my friends broke it... 187: My pet: Black cockapoo and a white cockapoo named Abby and Molly 186: My best friend: is a hoe 185: My favorite shampoo is: herbal essence color me happy  184: Xbox or ps3: I perfer Wii, Wii U or Nintendo switch  183: Piggy banks are: cute, Mine is a ducktales cup  182: In my pockets: nothing rn 181: On my calendar: nothing rn 180: Marriage is: a good thing but not a necessity for a happy life 179: Spongebob can: get it  178: My mom: is a queen  177: The last three songs I bought were? i only buy cds for my car so: Lover, Hozier, Blink 182 176: Last YouTube video watched: The Office deleted scenes 175: How many cousins do you have? 8 but I only see four of them and two of them are adults with kids so i consider them more of aunt and uncle figures 174: Do you have any siblings? One older sister  173: Are your parents divorced? Nope  172: Are you taller than your mom? Nope 171: Do you play an instrument? Nope 170: What did you do yesterday? Sat on ass and watched youtube 

[ I Believe In ] 169: Love at first sight: ye why not 168: Luck: yes  167: Fate: yes 166: Yourself: kinda 165: Aliens: yes 164: Heaven: mmmm yes i guess 163: Hell: yes 162: God: uhhhhh yes and no, kinda indifferent 161: Horoscopes: yep 160: Soul mates: yesss 159: Ghosts: ye 158: Gay Marriage: WHO THE FUCK DOESNT BELIEVE IN THISS?? ITS REAL  157: War: think it does more harm than good 156: Orbs: ye 155: Magic: ye i wanna be a wizard 

[ This or That ] 154: Hugs or Kisses: hugs 153: Drunk or High: drunk, i dont do drugs and i dont drink yet but ill prob get drunk  152: Phone or Online: oo i use both but Online i guess 151: Red heads or Black haired: Black hair 150: Blondes or Brunettes: Brunettes 149: Hot or cold: HOT 148: Summer or winter: Summer 147: Autumn or Spring: Both 146: Chocolate or vanilla: Vanilla  145: Night or Day: Day 144: Oranges or Apples: Oranges 143: Curly or Straight hair: I have straight hair but curly hair is also beautiful 142: McDonalds or Burger King: BURGER KING..I HATE MCDONALDS 141: White Chocolate or Milk Chocolate: MILK 140: Mac or PC: Pc 139: Flip flops or high heals:...High heels prob 138: Ugly and rich OR sweet and poor: SWEET AND POOR, IM ALREADY UGLY 137: Coke or Pepsi: NEITHER 136: Hillary or Obama: obama  135: Burried or cremated: cremated 134: Singing or Dancing: love both but maybe dancing rn 133: Coach or Chanel: Coach  132: Kat McPhee or Taylor Hicks: idk who they are 131: Small town or Big city: Big city, i grew up in a small town 130: Wal-Mart or Target: TARGET 129: Ben Stiller or Adam Sandler: Adam 128: Manicure or Pedicure: Mani 127: East Coast or West Coast: West Coast 126: Your Birthday or Christmas: Christmas  125: Chocolate or Flowers: Chocolate 124: Disney or Six Flags: DISNEY  123: Yankees or Red Sox: eww sports 

[ Here’s What I Think About ] 122: War:....does more harm than good  121: George Bush:....dont know enough to say but im pretty sure he was an awful human  120: Gay Marriage: It should just be called marriage, just because you’re gay doesnt make it any less or any more, its equal to other marriages  119: The presidential election: 118: Abortion: Pro Choice, no one has the right to tell someone what to do with their body 117: MySpace: i never used it cause i was too young but i bet it was lit 116: Reality TV: its funny af  115: Parents: are nice if they care about their child but if they are abusive or horrible then they dont deserve respect  114: Back stabbers: should be stabbed  113: Ebay: its nice  112: Facebook: full of idiots and boomers  111: Work: a scam  110: My Neighbors: they fine 109: Gas Prices: A SCAM 108: Designer Clothes: a nice but really $200 for socks, no mama 107: College: SHOULD BE FREE 106: Sports: fun but no one needs to make that much money for throwing a ball 105: My family: i like them 104: The future: is wild and idk at this point 

[ Last time I ] 103: Hugged someone: my mom like a few days ago 102: Last time you ate: at 11 today! 101: Saw someone I haven’t seen in awhile:  100: Cried in front of someone: my mom after i yelled at her 99: Went to a movie theater: i saw Onward when we were allowed outside 98: Took a vacation: went to disneyland last October  97: Swam in a pool: like almost two years sadly  96: Changed a diaper: when i was like 8  95: Got my nails done: never got them done because my mom wouldnt take me cause i was a ‘tom boy’  94: Went to a wedding: never  93: Broke a bone: when i was three, my big toe 92: Got a piercing: my nose in January  91: Broke the law: i guess i sped the other day  90: Texted: literally as im doing this 

[ MISC ] 89: Who makes you laugh the most: my friend 88: Something I will really miss when I leave home is: the silence of being alone 87: The last movie I saw: Princess and the Frog 86: The thing that I’m looking forward to the most: Moving for college 85: The thing im not looking forward to:  84: People call me: Deanna (real name), Dean, Star (what yall call me) ton of others 83: The most difficult thing to do is: idk  82: I have gotten a speeding ticket: never 81: My zodiac sign is: Aries 80: The first person i talked to today was:  79: First time you had a crush: Ive had  78: The one person who i can’t hide things from: my best friends 77: Last time someone said something you were thinking: my friends over ft  76: Right now I am talking to: no one 75: What are you going to do when you grow up: hopefully being an animator  74: I have/will get a job: at disney  73: Tomorrow: doing nothing 72: Today: doing nothing  71: Next Summer: hopefully not on quarantine  70: Next Weekend: nothing special  69: I have these pets: 2 doggos 68: The worst sound in the world: ICE SCRAPING OR MOUTH BREATHING 67: The person that makes me cry the most is:  66: People that make you happy: my friends 65: Last time I cried: few days ago  64: My friends are: my world 63: My computer is: a Dell  62: My School: is a community college  61: My Car: it goes 60: I lose all respect for people who: are bigots, dehumanize people, republicans  59: The movie I cried at was: Onward had me sobbing  58: Your hair color is: Brown rn 57: TV shows you watch: theres too many 56: Favorite web site: tumblr or youtube 55: Your dream vacation: every disney park  54: The worst pain I was ever in was: i think when i cut my finger or when i went to the hospital for my chest  53: How do you like your steak cooked: Medium rare  52: My room is: disney themed and my safe zone 51: My favorite celebrity is: Tara Strong  50: Where would you like to be: Disneyland 49: Do you want children: ehh maybe  48: Ever been in love: nope 47: Who’s your best friend: my neighbor that ive known since i was 4 46: More guy friends or girl friends: more girl 45: One thing that makes you feel great is: making cake  44: One person that you wish you could see right now: my cousin 43: Do you have a 5 year plan: not really  42: Have you made a list of things to do before you die: ye 41: Have you pre-named your children: kinda 40: Last person I got mad at: my mom 39: I would like to move to: La 38: I wish I was a professional: animator

[ My Favorites ] 37: Candy: Kitkat 36: Vehicle: Cars 35: President: 34: State visited: California, Nevada, Texas, Hawaii,  33: Cellphone provider: 32: Athlete: n/a 31: Actor: Colin O'Donoghue 30: Actress: Lana Parrilla 29: Singer: Joe Jonas, Taylor Swift  28: Band: Big Time Rush 27: Clothing store: Hot topic, Ross,  26: Grocery store: Safeway  25: TV show: Once Upon A Time or PPG  24: Movie: Princess and the Frog and Ratatouille  23: Website: tumblr  22: Animal: elephant  21: Theme park: disneyland  20: Holiday: Halloween  19: Sport to watch: hockey  18: Sport to play:..i do not play  17: Magazine: i dont read mags  16: Book: Kingdom Keepers  15: Day of the week: Friday  14: Beach: one i went to in Hawaii  13: Concert attended: Jonas Brothers  12: Thing to cook: chowmein and strawberry shortcake  11: Food: Chowmein  10: Restaurant: my fav Chinese restaurant  9: Radio station: I don’t listen to the radio  8: Yankee candle scent: Vanilla  7: Perfume: Vanilla  6: Flower: Rose or Larkspur  5: Color: Black or blue  4: Talk show host: umm i dont watch many but i guess Jimmy Fallon  3: Comedian: Jaboukie Young-White or John Mulaney  2: Dog breed: Pomeranian  1: Did you answer all these truthfully? ye 

[imaginexmeintheuniverse]

Ok girlie I see your tags on the prompts and I’m. Here. For. It. Please do i’m the only one who gets your costume and apparently that makes you wanna rip my clothes off with my baby Peter maximoff I’m so freaking thirsty for him

i’m the only one whogets your costume and apparently that makes you wanna rip my clothes off +we’re secret friends with benefits and you accidentally wore my shirt to theparty so you’re pretending you came as me and it turns out your impression ofme is on point and you know me better than I know myself are you sure you’renot in love with me??

Word count: 1, 845

A/N: GIRL I GOT YOU

“I thought you said you weren’t going to dress up forthis,” Peter appears before you with a gust of wind that blows your loosehair back.

Raising an eyebrow at him, you lift your arms up at theelbows and reply, “I’m not…?”

The corners of his mouth curl up in a smirk as he looks youup and down, and realizes you aren’t aware that you’re wearing his shirt. Thelook of utter confusion on your face changes slowly as you look down to see thefamiliar Pink Floyd Dark Side of the Moonalbum cover print on the front of your— well, Peter’s t-shirt.

“Shit.”You curse under your breath, hoping no one else will notice that the shirt yourwearing isn’t yours.

“Hey, isn’t that Peter’s shirt?” Jubilee chirps,popping up out of nowhere with Kurt by her side and you start to panic becausethat really didn’t take long. Normally,you probably wouldn’t make a huge deal about wearing a friend’s shirt, butPeter isn’t like the rest of your friends, given the circumstances whichresulted in you wearing it. You had stayed in Peter’s bed while he was gettinghis costume ready after your, ehm, activitiesearlier. Long story short, you must have left too quickly and picked up thewrong shirt from the pile of clothes on the floor as you made your swift exit.

“Uh, y-yeah—” you stutter, completely caughtoff-guard, and as if on cue, the rest of the squad shows up. Great.

“Is Y/N wearing Peter’s shirt?” Scott asks,slightly confused.

“Yeah,” Peter interjects, saving you from beinggrilled. “I’m so much cooler than all of you that she decided to dress upas me.”

“Wow, Y/N,” Warren dramatically puts a hand overhis chest. “I thought we had something special.”

“Way to put some effort into your costume,” Jean snorts,her lips curved in a teasing grin.

“Yeah, it seems like she’s just missing a little—”Peter zooms off before finishing his sentence, and as per usual, he’s back asfast as he left. You don’t have time to blink before you find yourself with hissilver leather jacket around your shoulders and he’s grinning down at you as hegently places his goggles on your head. You smile back up at him, silentlythanking him as you slide your arms through the sleeves of his flashy jacket.

“And what are you supposed to be?” Jubilee asks, examiningPeter like he’s a foreign entity.

It takes you no time at all recognize Peter’s costume; apin-striped suit, the jacket a little wide and boxy, his hair is slicked down,and to top it all off, a pencil moustache. You and Peter spent hoursmarathoning the Addams Family on old recorded tapes, how could you not know?

“I think he’s supposed to be a gangster like from thoseold movies you showed me,” Kurt guesses, and Peter shakes his head inresponse.

“I’m actually—”

“I think you gangster costume is missing a fedora,”Scott comments, and Peter drags out an exasperated sigh.

“All right, I give up,” Peter throws his hands upin surrender. “I’m gonna go get a drink.”

The crowd parts as he speeds his way through to therefreshments table— which at this point, is a punch bowl mixed withgod-knows-what, with  a stack of cups anda few bottles of different drinks and alcohol. Meanwhile, you and the rest ofthe group start to converse, dance, and play Halloween-themed party games. Uponrequest, you start doing your impression of Peter— which you totally nail— andhave everyone in a fit of laughter as the night goes on.

You can only dance around and play party games so muchbefore you become a sweaty mess, so you make a short trip to the bathroom tocool down. When you exit, you see Peter leaning back on the wall of thehallway, waiting for you with a red cup in each hand, one of which he holds outto you.

“Merci,”You accept the cup with a sly smile, and he seems taken aback. You eyes don’tleave his as you bring the cup up to your lips and you see his slightlysurprised expression change to a pleased one. “Don’t think I haven’tnoticed your costume, mon chérie.”

“Cara mía,”A smile takes over his features and there is nothing he can do to stop it. Infact, he’d be telling the biggest lie he’s ever told if he said that you beingthe only person to get his costume andspeaking French didn’t turn him on.

“So, what do you think of my impression of you?”you ask, a playful smirk curving your lips.

“It could use some work,” he says nonchalantly, shiftingso that his side leans on the wall.

“Please,”You roll your eyes, and punch him lightly on the bicep. “I totally nailedyou!”

“Yeah you did,” he smirks, as you mentally slapyourself because you should have seen it coming. “Speaking of which,”He takes a step closer to you and his voice takes on a mischievous tone. Yourchests are mere inches apart, and as the seconds pass, Peter  gets increasingly impatient. All he wants todo is tear your— err— his clothes offof you. “We should totally go somewhere and get weird with eachother.”

Dismissing his last comment, you take another sip of yourdrink. “I’ve got you pinned—”

“Yeah you will—”

“I know you better than you know yourself.” Yourgaze bores into his big brown eyes . His pupils are totally blown and there’s ahint of something else you can’t quite put your finger on. The tension onlythickens between you and him, and it feels different than the usual sexualbuild up. It’s the same feeling that made you rush out of his room earlier.

That feeling was so small when you and Peter first startedyour— for lack of a better word— arrangement.You were friends, but not that close; he was attractive, but not someone yousaw as a romantic prospect. As the weeks passed, you started hanging aroundmore with him afterwards, and him with you. Like every friends-with-benefitsagreement, you’re supposed to call it off the second someone catches feelings,but as you realized that afternoon, it turns out you’ve been repressing a lotof feelings for a while now.

To make things more confusing, it was something so simplethat brought on your great epiphany. You had stayed in his bed after sex,clothed in nothing but your underwear and one of his oversized sweaters whilehe showered. He came back to find you had fallen asleep, and woke you up withthe sweetest kiss. His lips felt softer than usual, he smelled of soap, and thewet tips of his hair tickled your cheeks. The smile you saw when you openedyour eyes, made you feel like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.The second he turned around and headed to his closet, it hit you all at onceand you panicked. That’s when you ditched the sweater and left in a hurry,picking up the wrong shirt in the process.

Going through your memory, you swear there are times wherehe had those feelings. Every time, you got scared and must have thought aboutcalling the whole thing off a dozen times, but you and him fell into a grooveand somewhere along the way you subconsciously got attached. And now, as hestands in front of you, you search his eyes for that same spark and you’re moreconfused than ever.

“So you’ve been paying attention to me,” You snortat the cocky expression on his face, once again repressing the hell out of yourfeelings and keep up the back and forth flirting game the two of you alwaysplay. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re in love with me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself—” You tip your cup andgulp down the rest of whatever liquid is in it— it tastes like rum and coke,but not quite the same. “We made rules for a reason, remember?” Ruleswhich you’ve already broken.

After all this time you’d think you’d be used to it, but itfeels like all oxygen has escaped your lungs when you notice that his lips are real close to yours. His eyes dart downand come back up to meet yours. “Are you sure you’re not in love with me,Y/L/N?” He’s giving you major heart palpitations and your stomach is doingsome crazy flips, but you definitely can’t tell him that.

“Don’t push it, Maximoff.” You crush the empty cupin your hand and watch it turn to dust and eventually disappear as you vaporizeit. “I’ll see you later— my room.” He’s not sure what it is aboutthat that kind of turns him on, but he definitely doesn’t hate it. Spinning onyour heel, you call over your shoulder as you make your way back to the party, “Andget rid of the pencil stache!”

Before you can join back with the rest of the squad, you’restopped by your best friend— and she just about startled the crap out of you.“So, were you ever going to tell me about you and Peter?”

“Were you eavesdropping?!”

“How long have you guys been a thing?”

“Were you— uh we're— we’re not a thing—”

“I’m gonna take a wild guess… three months?”

“Accurate.”

You and Jean keep going back and forth, her firing questionsat you, and you trying your best to dodge them until she asks the one thatstops you.

“How long have you been in love with him?”

You freeze for a moment before turning into a stutteringmess. “I-I- love? P-Peter? No— I don't—” You think your heart mightjump right out of your chest and you jump to the first conclusion you can thinkof. “You read my mind?!”

“Not yours,”she specifies, eyes darting over to where Peter is dancing like a mad man.“It’s hard not to hear histhoughts when he’s pretty much screaming them, trust me I’ve tried.”

“I swear I wanted to tell you, but we agreed on certain,ehm, terms and conditions when thisstarted— we thought it would be better if no one knew.”

“It’s okay,” you’re a little surprised, but gladthat she’s hugging you instead of being salty about not telling her. You’re notsure why you expected anything different, she’s always been supportive. “Butare you sure you’re not in love withhim?” It’s almost chilling; those same words came from Peter just momentsago. You look over to where he’s dancing like a total dad, and that samefeeling washes over you again. You’re not sure whether or not you can lie toyour best friend— it wouldn’t make a difference even if you did because youboth already know the answer to that question.

Masterlist | Request a Halloween/Autumn drabble!

[lifeofbouyd]

Apple's sweet 16

At age 7 I had met what I thought would someday be my wife; Apple. She was an angel. I met her at uncles favorite bar with her friend Vanessa. While every other kid was running up and down like wild animals they just sat there; being pretty. I noticed them for a very long time before finding an excuse to get close.

Me: Hey, you’re pretty.

Vanessa: Apple doesn’t like you

Me: I wasn’t talking to you.

Apple just sat there smiling as if she was crazy.

At least I had made her smile. I went back to playing and I remember our eyes making four each time I looked around. For days I thought; does she really not like me, why wouldn’t she?. I hadn’t seen her until like a month later when uncle and I went to her aunts bar. We were both shocked to see each other. This girl was right under my nose without my knowledge, she was my next door neighbor. We played for a while and got to know each other. This became my regular hang out spot. I’d rush to her house everyday after school before even doing my homework.

One day she came over and we were playing as always when I decided to be a hero.

Me: wanna be my girlfriend?

Apple: I am your girlfriend.

I stood in amazement for a while (((mute))) with no idea in the world as to what just happened. Bouyd, Bouyd, say something for God sakes. I just kept starting at her and smiling. Officially my first girlfriend Apple and I were meant for each other or so I thought. Apple and I broke up more times than I can count but somehow we always got back together.

We didn't see each other for a few years until we started high school. By turning a teen she became the most wanted girl by the boys in the streets. For me, this was a stiff competition. These guys were prized bulls or prince charming as some would call it. And me, well hmm; let's just say I was not in their league. The difference between me and these guys was, I was King of words and I was always there with her even when she chose to give them a chance.

I can't forget us planning her sweet 16. She had just broken up with this guy down the street because he was cheating on her. I was already a hoe in the streets but Apple was always the queen of my deck. I wanted to beat this guy so bad but she kept begging for him. Eventually, I left him alone. She wanted cake, music, decoration and people. That was an easy pull for me. Invited all my friends and she did the same. We expected to have a blast.

I got shaved, took a very long shower and got dressed as if I was going out with a celebrity. It's birthday night. I had already sent her a really nice birthday message in the morning and I have made a birthday card that I planned to give her. I linked up my friends and headed to the party.

I guess this was my first official heartbreak. Let me set the scene. Place nicely decorated, pretty cake, booming music, lots of friends and a pretty girlfriend. Life doesn't get better than this. She was beautiful, I've never seen her this dressed up. My friends and I were busy drinking a holding a vibe until it was time for me to help her cut the cake. It's time to cut the cake guys, everyone gather round. I got up from my seat feeling like a King only to get the shock of my life. There's the same nigga I want to beat so bad standing beside her about to cut the cake 😞. ((((What the fuck)))).

Ashamed, I watched him help her cut her sweet 16 cake (deep breath). She said we’d do it together, she said she loved me, she said they weren’t together. Then why the fuck is he there and I’m here looking like a fool. Did I do something wrong, am I missing something?. Tears filled my eyes as my friends started to laugh. “Man tek weh yuh gyal”. Believe me, I don’t think there’s been a worst night than that.

Cake anyone?. Nah, I’m full. I thought of starting a fight several ways but I was too ashamed to even drink a glass of water. “Apple’s looking for you Bouyd, what you gonna do”?. Fuck Apple, who the fuck she think she is?. I hate her. Ima fuck this party up.

((Bouyd, Bouyd)). It was apple calling me.

Apple: Bouyd I need to talk to you.

Me: about what

Apple: about all this

Me: Apple leave me the fuck alone. You just embarrassed me in front of everyone.

Apple: I’m sorry.

Me: at which point did you become sorry? Before or after he helped you cut the cake or was it while I was helping you plan your birthday?.

Apple: I didn't mean to hurt you Bouyd

Me: Just leave me the fuck alone. I don't ever wanna see you again.

I ate my heart while saying that to her. I watched her cry her eyes out while my heart grew cold in my stomach. (((Deep breath))) I had flashbacks of her cooking and singing for me; even crying on my shoulder whenever she needed someone to talk to. I was always there. She's supposed to love me, she said she did. I walked away that night and I never stopped to look back. Ashamed & broken hearted I decide no one will ever get close to me again. I made myself a vow that night; I’d never open up to anyone, not even if they cried me a River.

Since then I've found it really hard to connect to my emotional side and whenever I was able to, my heart only got battered worst than it already was. I got so used to hurting people and shutting them out I couldn't tell the difference between who was real or not. The sad part is we eventually winded up back together; but my inability to love her the way I should, resulted in her heart being broken. They say karma is a bitch, an eye for an eye. But I really loved that girl and even though she hurt me, she didn't deserve what I put her through year's later. Truth about life and love is, somethings you'll never be able to get over or let go. Sometimes we'll wind up meeting the right person at the wrong time and that shit can mess you up, literally. But don't worry guys that's not the end of Apple’s story. You'll find out what happened in chapters to come.

[terrberrxo]

A song that I respect......Ill Mind of Hospin 5

“.....

Man I hate rap, but if the shoe fits, wear it

I've become a freak of nature all the kids stare at

Who walk around bumping RAW with the shit blaring

Saying "fuck school" and dropping out like a miscarriage

I'm embarrassed

And I'm ashamed I played a part in this devilish game

Making your common sense perish

But I ain't taking the full blame

'Cause most of you chumps running around here ain't never had strict parents

All of your brain cells rotting from weed

You feeling like if you ain't got it, life's not as complete

You having sex with every-motherfuckin'-body you see

With a past so dark that Satan'd jump out of his seat

But still you out in these streets thinking you hot as can be

Without the knowledge to lead so you just follow the sheep

Making sure your lame swag is all polished and clean

While your favorite rapper's like "yeah, he got it from me"

You been brainwashed by a fake life that you're used to livin'

When I say the word "fun", what do you envision?

Probably drinking and smoking out with your crew

And chilling with clueless women you trying to bang, bumping New Edition

Is that all you think life really is

Well if so, then you're a fucking idiot

I honestly feel like grabbing your head and hitting it

Matter of fact, you don't even deserve a brain, gimme it!

Do you even have any goals

Aside from bagging these hoes and packing a bowl

Well let me guess, no.

You're only in school because your parents make you go

When all you do is play beer pong and hang out with your bros

Yo, society's got you living for a whack 'cause

You're a fucking adult with no skills at all

You don't read any books or play ball

You don't draw, you literally do nothing at all

Still you fiend for the glamorous fruits

You don't have 'cause you idolize rappers that do

And all they say is "I got money and it's stacked to the roof"

And now you think that it's gon' magically just happen to you

How? Your lazy ass don't commit to labor

You pick something up, try it out, and put it down two minutes later

Then you complain about your life 'cause it ain't getting catered

Now whoever tries to call you on your bullshit's a hater?

You wanna succeed, you have to try

Or one day you'll get older and regret it all 'cause you can't provide

Your friends are lowlifes, don't act surprised

Look, just cut the bad fruit off of the tree, make the sacrifice

Girls, stop acting like you want a guy with traits like Romeo

Bitch that's a fucking lie

You always talk about how every man's fake

And you can't take it and you want something real

Shut up tramp, save it

Twice a week you put on your makeup and damn bracelets

And head to the club half-naked with your ass shaking

Pulling a lowlife nigga who claim he cash making

Till you let him hit and find out he work at the gas station

One of them niggas got you pregnant and you can't raise it

But you caused it, your actions made a fat statement

You want Romeo, then act patient

And stop fronting like he in the club posted in the back waitin'

It's the club, where guys put on a new persona

After they get loaded with a few Coronas

They always shouting and wild out with habits that very few condone of

Then they look for beautiful brainless bitches like you to bone 'em

Then when they leave you, you cry and cry

Talking 'bout, "oh my god I can't find a guy

I've spent so many years and I've tried and tried

Why am I even on Earth, I should die!"

You want Romeo, you're not worthy

You're cock-thirsty, you're nasty and probably got herpes

Sometimes the secret to finding is to stop searching

Try a new formula, 'cause your last one's not working

The term "real nigga"'s publicly used

And I need to know what it means, 'cause I'm fucking confused

Are you one for always busting your tool

With nothing to lose and something to prove to homies up in your crew

Is it because you're selling drugs to get loot

And brag about how you done been shot and stabbed, like it's fun to be you

But your life's a struggle, right, and you just hustling through

Nah, you hamster ass nigga, you just stuck in a loop

Man, why do black people gotta be the only ones who can't evolve

'Cause you in the streets acting like a neanderthal

It's clear you can't stand the law, you're lost as an abandoned dog

And all you're interested in is fighting, rapping, and basketball

I can't even fuck with you, 'cause if we out in public

You gon' get caught stealing some shit and get my ass in trouble, too

You'll get old and be nothing

Living life in these streets, thugging and starting shit with anybody mean mugging

Look at you, a real nigga, thinking your life's cool

Girls used to turn me down for guys who were like you

'Til you grab their heart and shove a spearhead right through

Then they regret it because it wasn't the right move

Your real nigga talk seems bogus

A real nigga don't brag about being real as long as he knows it

And his future doesn't seem hopeless

A real nigga stays out of jail, handles shit, and he keeps focused .....”