#jk it would probably totally fucking fix me

[hitomisuzuya]

Slytherin Scaramouche x Gryffindor reader. Harry Potter AU. SFW. Some kissing.

This is a special request for my beloved @kichikichiko I showed her an art of Scaramouche in a Slytherin robe and she requested this from me. Scara would totally be a Slytherin, wouldn't he 😌It's my favorite House. And btw, I do love Harry Potter. I always will. But I DO NOT support JK. Rowling or her views in any way. I think she is a terrible person😑

You were a Gryffindor.

Scaramouche was a Slytherin.

It was pretty much dictated that you guys wouldn't like each other.

And you didn't.

At first.

But, the more Scaramouche started to get an attitude with you and started fights with you on purpose, the more he started to like the way you sassed him back.

So, he purposely started shit with you.

This was now a constant routine, since second day of the first year at Hogwarts in fact, even though he didn't start realizing that he was in love with you until his fifth year.

And you realized you were in love with him until your fourth year.

Rinse. Repeat.

Until the seventh and final year at Hogwarts.

It was hard for Scaramouche to admit that he was falling in love with you.

And you had too much pride as Gryffindor to confess to him first. You were old fashioned. The guy needed to make the first move.

Except for recently, Scaramouche had noticed you were getting close to someone else. Another boy. And Scaramouche could tell this boy had nothing but romantic intentions towards you.

And he couldn't have that.

It was hard for him to swallow his pride, and he was tired of denying himself because he didn't think he deserved to have someone like you love him.

Like usual, Scaramouche had started a fight with you towards the end of class. He said you were probably cheating, and that explained why you were a good student. And that he was impressed that you'd gotten away with it all these years.

You snapped back at him, saying: "Oh, you wish I was cheating. Are you that insecure about how smart you really are? Or are you just that jealous of me and you feel threatened. Grow up and get over it. You'll feel a lot better when you do."

Class had ended and you'd stalked out into the hallway.

And, that boy who liked you followed right behind you. To comfort you and ask you if you were all right, no doubt.

Oh fuck no!

Scaramouche had had enough of this.

He doubly had enough when he got within ear shot of you and what's his name who should drop dead instantly for even looking at you.

"You see, y/n, I have liked you for a long time and I wanted to confess to you before our time at Hogwarts is done." What's his name said.

You started to open your mouth and say you were flattered, but there was someone else that you liked.

Said someone was putting his hand on your shoulder, tugging you a few steps away from the shithead that was determined to get in Scaramouche's way.

"Tch, she isn't interested," He said coldly, fixing what's his name into a glare that sent a cold shiver up the other boy's spine.

You grit your teeth. "Excuse me, Scaramouche, but you are being rude. And anyways, why do you think you can decide if I am interested in someone or not?" You said, raising an eyebrow at him.

"She's interested?" What's his face cut in hopefully.

"She isn't," He said coldly.

You weren't.

Again, Scaramouche didn't give you a chance to speak.

"You know, I should've expected a goody two shoes Gryffindor to fall for a simpering fool like him. Now, hurry up and turn him down," Scaramouche replied, glaring down at you again.

"I..what?" You stammered, blushing at how flustered he was making you feel.

Scaramouche scoffed. "Tch, of course I need to make myself clearer. Keep those pretty eyes on me," Curling his fingers underneath your chin, he kissed you.

You kissed him back.

"Was that clear enough?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Scara, I was going to turn him down, anyways. For you. You just never gave me a chance to tell you. How typical of you," You said, "and yes, you made yourself perfectly clear."

Scaramouche rolled his eyes. "Good, because I hate repeating myself."

[alifeasvivid]

So awhile ago, I did a headcanon post about America and England's watches and jewelry... and I CANNOT BELIEVE that it took me until now to realize:

FUCKING JAMES BOND. Almost every watch featured in those films is instantly iconic. So here is are the ones that I think England would have (aka the ones I like the best >.>)

007 perfers dive watches. Basically every film has the character wearing at least one dive watch. I tried to pick one from each actor, but Timothy Dalton wore a Tag Heuer watch and I don't like Tag so >.> there it is. Here is a link to a blog so you can see more about the films that these are from, since I'm gonna stay in my lane and just talk about the watches.

The main brands in the franchise are Rolex, Seiko, and Omega, though some others do make an appearance.

a) Rolex Submariner Ref. 6538, 1962 - Rolex is on the list for "first dive watch" and this particular one can reach a depth of 200m, pretty impressive b) Rolex GMT Master, 1967 - I like the bezels on these the most. The Blue/Red is pretty iconic and lovingly referred to as the Superman bezel or the Pepsi bezel. c) Rolex Chronograph Ref. 6238, 1969 - very shortly after this watch, Rolex would release its iconic Daytona, so these are pretty rare d) Seiko 7549-7009, 1981 - Seiko is considered more of an economy brand compared to the luxury of Rolex and Omega, but their dive watches are top notch and can hold their own against their higher-end counterparts e) Omega Seamaster Professional 300M Ref. 2541.80, 1995 - Pierce Brosnan wore basically this watch for his entire run as Bond, but if it ain't broke, don't fix it. f) Omega Seamaster 300 Ref. 233.32.31.41.21.01.001, 2015 - >.> I love this watch. It's so sexy. This one was designed specifically for the film, Spectre, which makes it instantly recognizable.

Do I think England keeps these in their own special box and tends to them himself? Yes.

Do I think America occasionally tries to get his hands on them through unscrupulous means? Yes.

Do I think England shuts that down right quick cuz nobody touches this collection? Yes.

America can gtfo with his apple watch or casio g-shock (jk jk, see the link to my headcanon post for my actual thoughts on his watches) and honestly, I can totally picture him as just as big a Bond fanboy as England so he probably has his own collection of these. XD

[the-frankenmost]

Alright so, I don’t talk about my canon openly very much, but I think there’s at least two people who want to hear about here so I’m just gonna ramble.

I don’t remember a lot before Gloomsvile so we’re not getting much of a “backstory” here :/ sorry. I do remember that it was only Mom though. I was a total momma’s boy. Len was very obviously the favorite though. I don’t really want to get into that here. I had (and still have) ADHD and Autism. Can’t comment on Len too much because memory is still very fragmented, but he definitely was not neurotypical. I was a very sensitive little guy while Len was the more rough and tough boy. Mom would call me a cry baby a lot. Len and I were twins, we weren’t born conjoined. I don’t remember how we died which is probably a good thing. Len loved creepy crawlies, I did not. He’d play with worms and I’d just be there freaking out. Still really don’t like the squirmy type.

Came to Gloomsville in search of more and stayed because, Ruby, duh. R.I.P Actually hit it off In Gloomsville and the neighboring towns. I remember the first time we made it into the paper, Ruby threw a big party and Len and I ate too much and got sick lol.

One time Skullboy thought he was related to a long line of Rock Stars and tried to get us to let him join the band. I’m named Frank for a reason (jk). Shut that shit down quick. Dude sucks at music. I think Iris AND Misery had had crushes on us for a while but that was extremely short lived. I don’t think anyone in that house was straight

(-Poe & Skull Boy) but I was probably the last one to come out for reasons we’ll get to later.

This is where the memories get more frequent and also a bit more sensitive. Read ahead at your own risk please.

Len and I had a medical emergency one night and for some reason the only solution the doctors could think of was to separate us, we were so far gone when they had us sign a waiver so neither of us could comprehend what was happening. Woke up in my own hospital bed in my own hospital room. Good lord the fear I felt that afternoon. Apparently Len had been freaking out way worse because he’d woken up like two days before I did. Shit was terrifying. You’d think “oh well now you get to experience privacy!” Fuck that I want my brother. I don’t remember exactly what had been wrong but both of us needed several different transplants, I got a new stomach. With that came new stomach issues. Could no longer have a lot of favorite foods or I’d get really sick. Len got off easy, I’m happy for him. We both got new dicks because we’d shared one. God bless that decision holy shit.

It was shortly after the emergency separation is when my mental health started to decline and I had that big meltdown that Skull Boy found reason enough to break my nose. In all fairness he’d thought I’d shoved Ruby when really I’d just startled her pretty bad. Not much better in my opinion. She didn’t deserve that. The guilt is what drove me to go hide in the woods surrounding the house. I’d originally planned to cool off and then lock myself in the garage for a while but fate had other plans for me that night. Took a tumble all the way down that huge hill the house sat on. I tried to find my way back home, I really did I promise. But I’d been so exhausted and was so lost I’d ended up in the neighboring town in the complete opposite direction of the house. I was lost in those woods for so long I’d kinda lost it a bit. My brain convinced me that there was nothing for me back home and that they didn’t want me there anymore. Kinda exiled myself at that point. Some guy found me collapsed in the snow and took me to him place to fix me up so I wouldn’t die out there. Definitely would have if he hadn’t found me. He’s the one who gave me the train ticket and the deed to the farm in Pelican town.

The train ride took days to get to Zuzu city. I slept the whole time anyway so don’t remember much. Lewis met me at the station and escorted me to the bus to the town. Passed out on the bus and woke up in the hospital, again. Getting real sick of that. Harvey thought Lewis had brought him a corpse at first so when I’d woken up he freaked out. Comforting. People would come visit. They were so nice. Got released from the hospital and Lewis and Robin showed me to the Farm. I miss the farm to this very day. I’d give anything to go back. Got the place all cleaned up with Robin’s help. Hid in the old cottage, refusing to come out for a month or so. Finally decided to try planting the seeds Caroline had given me to start the garden. Was very cynical about it until the little baby seedlings popped up. Immediately was hooked. I’d sit on the steps leading to the patio and just talk to the little guys. Random chicken showed up on my property one day and that’s when I’d met Jas, Vincent and Charlie. Jas was fascinated while Vincent was dragging her away from the farm screaming and crying that I was going to eat them. Only came outside to water after that. I’d catch Jas snooping around the property. She reminded me of Ruby so I’d get sad. She’d leave little flowers from the fields surrounding the ranch just south of the farm. Those flowers kept me chugging during that period of time. Eventually decided I wanted to keep Chickens for company so I made my way to the ranch. That’s when I met Marnie and Shane. Marnie had Shane help me with building the coop and the run. Didn’t say much. Marnie took it upon herself to keep pressuring him to come help on the farm after a while. He’d never really say much to me. We all know where that ended up.

Shane and I would talk more and more with each visit. Jas would come help too. I got fairly dependent on their visits. As Shane and I would talk more we’d get closer. We officially started dating about six months after I’d first got there. I was happy for the first time in ages, and so was he.

Things carried on as they were for two years until the big Stardew County fair. I was cleaning up my little booth when I heard a familiar voice shouting my name. I don’t know how or why they’d decided to attend this fair of all the other fairs and festivals but they’d found me. Len quickly went from sobbing in relief that I was alive to throttling me. Oh ho ho he was pissed when he found out about Shane. Had to pry him off of him. Poor Shane was so rattled. We had a big sit down talk with everyone. Skull Boy couldn’t even look me in the eyes. I could tell he blamed himself for my disappearance, and that made me feel terrible. Ruby never gave up on looking for me.

Everything eventually went back to normal. They’d come visit fairly regularly. Len would just show up unannounced sometimes but I liked it. Shane didn’t. Shane and I eventually got married and this is where you’d think it was happily ever after. I wish that was the case. I really do. I don’t remember the exact amount of time between that and my eventual, untimely death. It wasn’t long enough though. I was so happy. I had my friends back. I had my brother back. I was married with an adopted daughter, though Jas continued to refer to me as “ Uncle Frank” I didn’t mind though. I’d told Shane I was going to the mines and he practically begged me not to go because I’d previously gotten hurt down there, but I’m a hard headed, stubborn idiot. He knew he couldn’t stop me so instead he came along. I don’t know what happened down there, as I’ve blocked it out but something terrible obviously. Shane carried me all the way to Harvey’s, but it was too late. There was nothing anyone could do.

And now I’m here. Anyway, it’s 2am so I’m going to sleep now. I’m certain there are typos but I can’t be bothered. Goodnight.

[h0neypjm]

Confident 02 | jjk

↳ Summary: After giving Jungkook the best suck of his life he’s left wondering if what you said was true. Was it really your first time? ‘Cause Jungkook thinks you might’ve lied.

↳ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

↳ Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, college au, fuckboy! jk, our fav cheeky virgin reader!

↳ Rating: 18+

↳ Word count: 8.8k

↳ Warnings: swearing, mentions of past toxic relationship, mentions of being pressured into sex, mentions of body image, mentions of stds, Jungkook being very confused, no smut in this part

↳ a/n: here it is !!! thank you for all the love for the first part, i hope you enjoy this part ! please feel free to leave any feedback <3 

↳ Series: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04

Previously...

“She said it's her first time.” He pauses, looking up at his friends' concerned faces. “I think she might’ve lied.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Jungkook groans, cradling his head before banging it on the table. The utensils on the table rattle and clang, bringing unwanted attention to his mini breakdown. Taehyung is quick to place his hand under Jungkook's forehead just as he goes in for another blow. “Ok, Jungkook- Jungkook!” Jimin giggles beside him. “Fucking stop, people are staring.”

Jungkook pauses and subtly peeks out of his long bangs, checking to see that Taehyung’s words were indeed true. He breathes out and sits up in his chair, fixing his shirt to play off that he wasn’t just having a mental meltdown.

Jimin rolls his eyes, “soooo are you gonna talk now, cause’ I have a horrible headache and you’re really not helping.”

Jungkook nods opening his mouth to speak. “Alright so uh, I met a girl last night and-”

“I thought you went home?” Taehyung shoves Jimin’s shoulder and Jungkook glares, “yeah, well that clearly didn’t happen.” He rubs his temples, “could you do me a favour and let me speak first, and then you can ask the questions. Ok?”

The two boys nod, settling into their seats as Jungkook delves back into his story.

“Alright so anyways, I saw this girl and like, I haven’t ever seen her before? She was literally perfect”. He exhales looking at nothing at particular as he continues. “Gorgeous face, prettiest lips and oh! speaking of her lips, God the way she sucked-”

Despite what Jungkook said earlier, Taehyung feels the need to intervene. “Ok as much as I love a good suck myself, I need you to stop here, we don’t need the graphics.” Jimin nods in agreement even though it’s clear he’s not paying an ounce of attention. Jungkook smirks at the memory, but it soon drops as he remembers one tiny detail. He places his hands on the table, total seriousness etched onto his face. “But here’s the kicker, she said it was her first time.”

Confusion. 

“So did you or did you not take her virginity?”Jungkook crosses his arms. “No, after that she just up and left.” “Wait, fuck”, Jungkook suddenly realises, “I didn’t even make her cum”, he groans and Taehyung bursts into laughter. This finally garners Jimin’s attention, his dazed eyes squinting. “Who’s the girl?” Jungkook sighs, “if you were listening before you would’ve heard me say that I don’t know her.” Jimin leans forward,“well can you at least describe her? I pretty much know everyone who attended the party”

Jungkook doesn’t have to think that hard. “She was wearing this plaid skirt and like a white top-” Jimin’s eyes widen, “Holy shit, Y/N?! Man, Jin’s gonna kill you.” This makes Jungkook pause, thoughts running back to the text he had received from Jin. “Wait, they’re not a thing are they?” Jimin chokes, “God no, they’ve been family friends since like forever, Jin’s practically her protective older brother.”

That explained his text earlier. Jungkook furrows his brows, more questions beginning to arise and spill out of his mouth. “How come I’ve never met her and if she’s a virgin, then how- how did-”, Taehyung cuts in, “dude she’s done other things before.” More confusion. “And how would you know that?” Taehyung smirks, shrugging as he gets up out of his chair. “I'm gonna get a drink, Jimin, you want anything?” God, his head is spinning. “Sure, you know my usual.”

It was the way Taehyung spoke too casually, like your lifestyle choices were common knowledge. How the fuck hasn’t he met you, yet his friends seem to be well acquainted with your existence? “What the fuck was that look?” He focuses on Taehyung from where he orders his drinks. “Did you see it Jimin? Kinda sus.”

Jimin remains nonchalant, blowing a strand of hair out of his sight before answering one of Jungkook’s urgent queries. “Jin never introduced you to her because well…” He looks Jungkook up and down with an unimpressed look. “You would get your grimy hands on her immediately. And Then after that, It’s like she never existed ” Jungkook opens his mouth, rebuttal on the tip of his tongue. “Don’t argue with me boy, the second you met her, you already wanted her on your dick, did you not?”

Jungkook is shocked to say the least, jaw hanging open as Taehyung makes his way back to the table, drinks in hand. “Oh God, what did you tell him?” Jungkook slams his fist on the table, yet again grabbing the attention of people around them. “That is not true! I have standards, and what about you two. You guys are just as bad.” He points accusingly at the bruises peeking out of Taehyung’s loose shirt, “Look at Tae! Those hickies are probably a combination of the three girls he fucked last week!”

Jimin doesn’t want to get kicked out of the cafe, so he attempts to calm down a soon to be raging Jungkook. “Look, to put it nicely, you’re a heartbreaker, you lead girls on whereas Tae and I actually tell people we’re not interested in anything more than a hookup.”

Jungkook seems to understand where he’s coming from. He can admit, he does have quite the reputation if the amount of times he’s been slapped in the face says anything. But now, with this newfound information, he can also admit that you’ve certainly intrigued him, that was for sure.

Jungkook wants to see you again.

Not for a rump in the sheets, but rather a friendly conversation. 

It was just his luck that he had heard through the grapevine that you had been invited to one of Jin’s small pool party get togethers. If Jungkook was being honest, he’s quite excited to be within your vicinity again but he knows he needs to keep his cool. Especially after the series of death threats and slaps on the neck from Jin. He shudders at the memory.

And so, Jungkook prepares himself more than he usually does. He wants to do it right this time. No flirty teasing, just friendly innocent conversation. He makes sure to carefully pick out the right swim shorts that display the thickness of his thighs. Not for any sexual gain, more so to show off the hours spent at the gym in hopes that maybe he can get you to become more interested in him as he is to you. He sounds desperate, and he’s sure you’re not that materialistic, but he has this nagging want to impress you somehow. He huffs and does a few pushups, for extra measure of course.

He’s not sure as to why his brain decided to make him act this way. You’re more or less a stranger to him. However, when Jungkook begins his short journey to Jin’s house he really lets himself think, which usually isn't a good idea. 

Jungkook doesn’t know you, but you’ve definitely left an imprint in his mind which makes you all the more fascinating. It’s news to him that you seem to be very close to his small circle of friends which is probably thanks to your deeply rooted friendship with Jin. That new piece of information had been bugging him since the day he met up with Taehyung and Jimin. Surely his reputation couldn’t be the only reason why you’ve never met him. Right?

Parking his car in Jin’s enormous driveway, he makes his way up to the grand front door. Sometimes he wishes he could live a life like Jin. He grew up being fed with a silver spoon his whole life. Having everything paid for instead of rolling in the miseries of college student debt.

Once Jungkook makes his way into the large house, he sets down the drinks he had brought onto the kitchen counter and watches his best friends goof around and enjoy the summer sun with a warm grin. He chuckles quietly when Jin pushes Jimin and his perfectly styled hair into the pool. Jimin screams a slur of curses while Jin quickly runs beside a sleeping Yoongi for protection.

Slipping out of his loose oversized shirt, Jungkook scans the entirety of Jin’s backyard, looking for the face that has been haunting him since that fateful night. She’s not here. He reexamines the pool seeing nothing but the chaotic mess of his favourite people, and he sighs. Just as he prepares to step out into the blazing sun, the sound of his stomach growling stops him in his tracks. 

Thinking about you made him nervous. So nervous that his stomach couldn’t bear the thought of breakfast. However, after the realisation that you hadn’t arrived just yet, makes him do a full one eighty, long strides taking him to Jin’s expensive fridge.

His head is already deep into the fridge when he hears the sound of the sliding door opening, revealing a dripping Jin with a small scowl on his face. It seems Jimin finally got his revenge. “I’m starving you got any leftovers?” Jungkook queries, his head popping out from the cool air of the fridge.

Jin grabs a fresh towel and whacks it against Jungkook’s naked back. “What’s the point of even asking when you’re already going through my damn fridge!” Jungkook flashes Jin an innocent grin and glows when he discovers a small bowl of Chinese takeout. 

It very quickly dawns on Jungkook that in order to enjoy a nice warm meal, he would need to heat it up. His stomach all but roars, not used to the lack of food in its system and Jungkook wants to cry. He wants to cry and it's not from the angry hunger pains, but rather something extremely laughable. He has to use a fucking microwave. 

You’re running late, there’s sweat running down your brow and you feel like your arms will fall off any second. The weight of snacks and alcohol you had brought making you stagger as you finally enter Jin’s enormous home.

The one and only thing that’s on your mind is the refreshing feeling of slipping into Jin’s pool while sipping on an iced beverage. This motivates you enough to put all the strength left in your exhausted being to speedily walk into the kitchen and throw everything onto the counter. 

“AHH FUCK!” You flinch at the sudden scream, hugging your body protectively. Jungkook slowly pops out from behind the other side of the counter, his doe eyes big and wide. “You fucking scared me Jesus!” He exclaims, running a hand through sweaty bangs.

The air had escaped your lungs long before you could utter your next sentence as the sight before you has you freezing. There he was, Jeon Jungkook in all his glory. Tanned skin and taut muscle sculpted by the Gods. You didn’t mean to stare, but how could you not! Your eyes had a mind of their own. He’s glorious, every single part of him, and you’re not even afraid to admit it. Your eyes are quick to eat him up, tracing the art staining the whole of his right arm and you wonder what every swirl of ink means to him.

Jungkook coughs awkwardly, going in to scratch at his neck. You imagined he would tease you about your obvious ogling, but it never came. Strange. “Why were you hiding?” You ask, dropping your gaze from his body in order to arrange the snacks into neat piles, using it as an excuse to slowly step closer to him. “Oh! Uh-”, he scratches his head, looking down at his feet before jumping five feet into the air, a startled gasp leaving his lips when the timer of the microwave goes off. 

You burst into laughter and Jungkook flushes in embarrassment. Jin had told you about Jungkook’s embarrassing fear of microwaves but you never thought you would see it first hand. You hold in the laughs that tickle your throat and try to settle him down by lightly touching his shoulder. He flinches at your touch.

“Are you okay?” You’re really close to him now. Your chest is practically pressed up against his and Jungkook gulps. How was it possible that you could look even more stunning than the last time he saw you? Your cheeks are glowing from the soft golden rays of the afternoon sun and the way you look up at him, your soft smile curling makes his head spin.

“Yeah, I’m good”, he breaks eye contact in embarrassment. “Sorry, just uh, microwaves are scary you know?” You giggle up at him. Is this really Jungkook? The Jungkook you’ve seen flaunting a new girl every week just to abruptly break her heart when he can’t promise anything more than sex? 

You’re not complaining, he’s quite adorable like this.

You’re not too sure why his personality has the sudden switch up. It could possibly be the fact that he’s with his closest friends and doesn’t feel the need to put up his playboy persona. Although, the way he blushes when he looks at you plays a different story. Do you make him nervous? Surely not, if the memories of that heated night are anything to go by.

“So uh, are you gonna head into the pool?” His empty stomach is long forgotten as he gestures to the large backyard, you nod up at him excitedly. It’s then Jin decides to bust back into the kitchen, a stern gaze set on his face. “Y/N, can I speak with you for a minute?” Jungkook cautiously takes a step away from you, your bodies no longer close to each other and you notice this with a small frown.

“Yeah, sure”, you relent walking over to Jin who places a protective arm around your shoulders. Unknowingly to you, Jin traps Jungkook down with a hard stare and signals Jungkook to go outside, to which he accepts with a nod.

“I know what you’re gonna say, and no I do not see him like that”, you cross your arms defensively. Jin sighs, “I just don’t wanna see you get hurt again.” He places his hands on your shoulders, full lecture mode on. “Let’s face it, you’re a hopeless romantic, I can’t trust that you won’t do something stupid, but you and Jungkook… You’re both important friends of mine and-” 

You’ve heard his overprotective brotherly speech plenty of times, “I know, and I’m so thankful that you’re looking out for me. I just don’t see the harm in befriending him, you’ve never let me speak to him before.” Jin releases his hold on your shoulders to fix the mess of his wet hair, “and there's a reason for that.”

Why was he so damn hard-headed. Jin loves Jungkook like he loves his family. It just didn't make any sense to you that Jin could approve of their friendship but when it comes to you, he completely shields you away from any interactions with the so called playboy. 

“When are you going to stop protecting me from boys?” Jin senses your frustration immediately. “I may be younger than you, but I’m also an adult just like you. An adult that can make her own choices.” You exhale slowly, “You’ve let me befriend your whole group and they’ve been nothing but wonderful to me, I don’t see the wrong in getting to know Jungkook.” 

Jin lets his guard down. You do have a point, maybe he was being a little too overprotective. He gives you a soft smile, you look away. 

“You’re right, I am in no position to dictate your decisions and who you choose to hang around with, it was wrong of me to treat you like that. Jin looks out into the pool, watching Jungkook tackle Taehyung. “I’m sorry I was a bit too harsh, Jungkook’s a good kid, he just got into the wrong crowd at first. Although, you gotta promise to tell me if he hurts you, cause he knows I’ll beat his ass.” 

You laugh accepting his apology, “are you sure about that? He’s a literal muscle pig.” You both begin to make your way outside and Jin shoves you slightly, “hey! You know I’m right.” Jin shakes his head and brings you into a comforting hug. “Yeah, yeah whatever.” He rolls his eyes, you beam up at him and together you walk out into the warm sunlight.

It hadn’t even been a second since you stepped outside, and already Yoongi’s long term girlfriend, Jieun is squealing your way. “Y/N! I’m so happy you're finally here, the amount of testosterone out here was starting to make me feel faint.” You giggle at her exasperated tone, pulling her into a tight hug. 

Nonchalantly you peel off your flowy sundress, it’s stickiness from your sweat making you cringe. “I missed you last week, why didn’t you come to class?” Jiuen pouts, “I'm sorry bub, I somehow caught a cold, but I trust you have some notes for me.” 

The way Jieun flutters her lashes at you innocently forces a roll from your eyes. Slathering sunscreen onto your arms, you reprimand her, “I swear you’re only using me for my notes, you literally never listen in class! Can you get my back please?”

She hums while you turn around, her small hands kneading sunscreen from your shoulder bones to the small dip in your back. Jieun continues to blabber on about the joys of life, not even checking if you’re listening to a single word she says. Instead your eyes are zeroed in on a certain someone.

Your staring is blatantly obvious but you don’t care. It’s only when Taehyung spots your burning gaze with a small smirk does he signal Jungkook to turn around to meet your flirty grin.  

Holy shit

The sun does a real great job of highlighting the gorgeous curves of your body adorned in quite possibly the smallest baby blue bikini he’s seen on a woman. Your breasts practically spill out of the tiny triangle cups and the pretty colour compliments your skin beautifully. 

Whilst Jungkook can admit you have one of the hottest bodies he’s seen in a while, his eyes surprisingly don't linger on your delicious curves for too long. Instead, he finds himself utterly enamoured by the way your eyes crinkle slightly when you smile prettily at him, your cheeks glowing with it. 

It suddenly dawns on him that you are the first girl that has truly enchanted him, and no, your ridiculously gorgeous body had little to do with it. 

Jungkook does not mind this change one bit. 

So, instead of staring at you like a gaping goldfish, he matches your flirtatious body language with a boyish grin and a small wave. His previous nerves dissipating only to be replaced by confidence and polished charm. He doesn’t want to scare you off with his sudden look of epiphany just yet, but the new unfamiliar feeling you give him is surely doing exactly that.

“My, my, Yoongi wasn’t lying.” Jieun stifles a giggle when she notices how Jungkook’s attention has steered towards you and only you. You’re quick to turn around, brows furrowed. “What are you on about?” 

“Oh you know… You and Jungkook”

You grimace, tired of the repeated topic of conversation. “Just because I sucked his dick once does not mean we're a thing” 

“Oh really? He’s asked me an awful lot of questions about you I was beginning to think otherwise”

“Wait, really?”

Jieun has the widest cheshire grin plastered on her face, it's starting to look quite unsettling.

“Really.”

You’re thoroughly shocked to say the least. You thought your fast, fleeting blowjob, sort of, was nothing special. A usual escapade to get his daily fill. Ordinary. Unmemorable.

However, it seems to be quite the opposite.

Jieun grabs your hand and swings it back and forth, exactly like a mother would do, although she’s merely two years older than you. “I know Jin’s been up your ass about Jungkook and frankly I don’t blame him he’s still a little shit from time to time but, he’s actually quite fun to be around and honestly I think his playboy tendencies seemed to dial down a bit since he met us.” The two of you giggle quietly amongst each other, quick feet making your way closer to the pool to avoid the scorching pavement.

Your toes are the first to dip into the pool and you practically moan at the cold water melting away the blistering haze that sticks onto your skin. The water is icy at your waist and you love it. “So my advice would be not to worry about him, instead it's his little army of plastic bimbos that you should watch out for.” 

“Ahh, internalised misogyny. We love to see it.” 

Jieun acknowledges you with a hum as the two of you float around the calming abyss. She then swims closer to you, nodding her head into the direction of a lonely Jungkook, who lazily stares at your alluring form. “I think your loverboy over there wants to talk to you.”

Jieun swims away before you can protest, leaving you to face the handsome man before you. His eyes are round and docile, yet his stare is tantalising, it pulls you in as if he’s slowly reeling you in with a rope. 

The water delicately ripples around your body when you approach him and you internally sigh in awe at the striking features of his stunning face. You want to use this opportunity to finally get to know him, and perhaps form a new friendship. 

You take note of the lack of Jin’s hawk-like eyes or for better the lack of any eyes on the two of you. You’re alone, huddled into one of the far corners of the pool, your conversation private, just for two pairs of ears. 

You open your mouth to speak, “So-”

“I-”

An uncomfortable silence stills the air and you both halt your words to giggle quietly amongst yourselves. God, this is awkward. 

“You go first”, You offer, tucking a wet strand of hair behind your ear. Jungkook follows the subtle movement of your fingers before taking a deep breath. 

“I feel like we should discuss the elephant in the room”

You're stunned. “Huh?”

“You know… That Friday night?”

Of course you knew what he was referring too, yet you wondered why as you honestly didn’t think that night had much impact on the man. 

With a raised brow you ask, “What about it?”

“I’ve just had a lot of... thoughts”

You scratch your head feeling puzzled. You’re sure Jungkook has had better blowjobs in his lifetime. Hell, Jungkook did most of the work that night. “Do you usually discuss the past hookups you have, or am I just lucky today?”

You’re teasing him, nevertheless Jungkook tilts his head back towards the sky. All he wants is clarification, only this conversation is heading down an awkward path, so he decides to spit out what’s been bothering him for the past few days.

“Okay listen, I know this is odd to say, but ever since that night, It’s like I can’t get you out of my head.”

Your ego inflates at his statement and you smirk. You knew you could suck dick well, but according to Jungkook you seem to have quite the talent.

You smile proudly, “damn, look at me go, I can’t believe I have the campus playboy wrapped around my finger.”

Jungkook scoffs, both in annoyance and embarrassment because shit, he could have worded that differently, now he sounds like the clingy girls he fucks.

“Yeah, yeah let’s not pretend like I was the only one enjoying myself here. Weren’t you the one practically begging to be touched?” 

You’re amused. “Weren’t you the one who couldn’t make me cum. Yet came from their own handjob?”

Jungkook tongues his cheek and looks away. The way you speak so casually intimidates him. No girl has ever spoken to him this way, in fact, Jungkook’s the one who usually likes to tease. He can slowly feel the creeping heat alighting his cheeks and God does he hope you don’t notice.

You patiently wait for Jungkook’s reply, a sly grin adorned on your pretty face. However, Jungkook doesn’t say anything, rather he frowns and immaturely splashes water at your face. 

“Jungkook!” You sputter, wiping at your face to rid of the chlorine in your eyes. “What the fuck was that for?”

He shrugs, “sorry my hand must’ve slipped”

You don’t take that for an answer, your petty nature crawling out as you splash him back harder than he had done. “Hand slipped, my ass.”

You cross your arms smugly, a small laugh blossoming out of your mouth when Jungkook cutely rubs at his eyes. 

It’s after a minute when you realise Jungkook hasn’t stopped furiously rubbing his eyes. The circular motions of his hand move so intensely that it begins to look painful and irritating. “Fuck, it stings”, he exclaims in agony.

Shit, you inwardly curse, gently touching his wrist, concern lacing your features because you didn’t think getting chlorinated water in one's eye would sting that much. You analyse his facial expressions closely and you wince at the redness surrounding his eyes from his harsh rubbing. 

On the contrary, Jungkook knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s competitive and won’t back down from a fight, even if it’s just fun banter, so he continues his little scheme just for the fun of it and hides his small grin under his large hands.

You’re now slightly panicked, “fuck, Jungkook I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hit the water that hard I-”

Jungkook cracks.

Ever so slowly, he peeps his eyes out at you and watches with a mischievous smirk as your face morphs from alarmed to annoyed in less than a millisecond.

You tighten your grip on his wrist and attempt to slap his hard chest with your free hand, however Jungkook’s reflexes are fast and he grasps your hand tightly, a teasing glint in his eye. 

“You little shit-”

All of a sudden a loud holler is heard from the front door, rousing a relaxed Jin out of his chair as he sprints while simultaneously yelling at the ruckus being made. It’s then a stampede of both familiar and unfamiliar faces come crashing in. Some jump straight into the pool to cool off from the blazing sun while others rush to the table of assorted alcohol, desperate to get an ounce of it in their system.

Word seemed to go around about Jin’s supposed small get-together unbelievably fast, causing the once tranquil Kim Seokjin into a raging volcano. 

You’re pressed right up against Jungkook’s solid chest and he surprisingly pays you no mind, even though your perky tits are deliciously pushed up perfectly against his body. Jungkook’s eyes are not settled on them, rather he pays close attention to the amount of people dangerously plunging into the pool at a fast rate.

Jungkook protectively hugs your shoulders to shield you from the rowdy party goers who definitely do not understand the definition of personal space. Your heart swells when he then delicately places your head in the crook of his neck and wraps an arm around your fairly exposed body, essentially guarding you from frantic wet limbs and ignorant individuals.

You feel comfortable and safe, so comfortable that you wouldn’t mind staying like this for a while if it weren’t for the throng of college students delving into the cooling water. 

Jin’s house begins to fill with unexpected guests very quickly and you wonder how Jin is handling the situation. You suppose not very well when you see him whipping people with towels, red ears making an appearance and his booming voice following him.

Jungkook wants to get out and he’s sure you feel the same way which is why he smoothly slots his hand into your own, long fingers wrapping around your hand to carefully pull you through the growing crowd of people in the pool.

Whilst pushing past a variety of college students you are met with many stares, even worse, numerous envious eyes and whispers of possible gossip. You try your best to avoid their gazes, the hard stares reminding you of the last time Jungkook held your hand to push through groups of people. 

Water drips down the curves of your body and lands in little pools around you when you step out of the pool. At this point you’ve garnered even more turning heads that examine every inch of your skin closely. Their stares itch your skin and you feel akin to an animal kept in a zoo enclosure, curious eyes breaking down your confidence, you want to hide. 

You usually like to pride yourself on your confidence because you know you’re hot and you know your worth. It had taken many failed relationships to build up your self love and nourish the scars and memories of questioning if you’re good enough. 

You fight on and squeeze Jungkook’s hand, mostly for some sort of reassurance. It shocks you when he astonishingly squeezes back and softly rubs his thumb over the back of your hand. It’s almost as if he knows how you’re feeling. 

You glance up at him shyly. Jungkook keeps his eyes straight ahead. He smiles a different kind of smile than the one he had directed to you a few hours ago. His lips are in a permanent smug smirk. His usual playboy smile. He flashes it at everyone as if he’s asking for their approval and even goes in to high-five a few people who are unrecognisable to you. You soon realise that this is what Jungkook thrives on. People, validation and his notorious reputation he’s created for himself.

Jungkook lights up at the presence of crowds, flirty smiles and people calling his name, whereas you want to crawl into your skin and run away because from the perspective of outsiders it looks like you’re just another one of Jungkook’s flings that will soon be forgotten by next week.

Well, you hope you won’t turn out to be one of them.

At last you find yourself away from the heart of the party, your dress in hand but your body still wet nonetheless. Jungkook is in the same state as yourself, droplets of water dribbling from his dark hair and onto the timber flooring. He leans into your ear, “I’ll go get us some towels, stay here.”

He’s gone before you can reply, making small conversation when he passes by various people, his boisterous laugh echoing down the halls. 

You’re alone now, and defenceless at that. There’s not many people you know here, besides the few odd people you share a class with and some sleazy frat boys that hold a similar reputation to Jungkook. You want to find Jieun so you can hug her or maybe ask her if she can take you home, but she is nowhere to be found.

Fuck, You remember leaving your bag on the kitchen table, unsupervised with many personal belongings stowed away inside. Using your dress to cover the most of your exposed skin like a blanket, you stride over to the kitchen and sigh in relief when you find your bag untouched and in perfect condition.

Snatching up your bag, you grab your phone and immediately text Jieun to find out where the fuck she’s hiding, but there’s a part of you that knows she’s probably fucking Yoongi somewhere. Traitor.

Jungkook finds you to be in a completely different part of the house than where he asked you, one towel wrapped around his neck and the other draped over his arm. You haven’t noticed him yet, your frantic fingers texting a treacherous Jieun, “princess, didn’t I tell you to stay put?”

You’re startled. Switching your phone off you stick your arm out, waiting for Jungkook to pass you the towel but he doesn't. Jungkook gently pushes your shoulders so that you turn away from him and carefully wraps the towel around your body like a cape. You hold the edges of the fabric to help him hug the towel around yourself, keeping it tighter to your body.

Your voice is quiet, “thank you.”

Jungkook leans down to meet your face, “What was that?”

Even though Jungkook had been in the pool longer than you, his cologne still sticks to his skin and you kind of want to breathe more of it in, but that would be weird.

“Oh, I said thank you.”

You’re close to him again, although this time he towers over you with a look almost identical to a predator meeting its prey.

Jungkook’s eyes flirt around your face and descend. He shamelessly drinks up the swell of your breasts and whatever skin is visible amidst the fluffy towel around you. It’s strange. You had noticed Jungkook doing the exact same thing when you were alone with him. The difference though was that his looks were cursory as if he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Now, It's like a new persona had taken over him and he was ready to pounce at any sign of a green light. 

He’s stuck in a trance, fuckboy tinted glasses fogging his vision.

You force out a giggle and playfully shove his shoulder, “my eyes are up here, you know.” 

His reply comes lighting fast, he’s definitely been in this position before. “I know, just admiring them.”

Jungkook wants to hit himself the second his reply spewed out of his mouth. He desperately wants to reassure your unimpressed (though also very cute) face, because goddammit he wanted to be respectful. Jungkook knows he has a tendency to slip into a new personality when the right amount of people hyped him. Call it being two faced, he knows it's one of his fatal flaws. 

“I'm sorry.” 

He says it genuinely. 

Jungkook only just got to properly meet you, he doesn’t want to give you the wrong impression! He can admit, your first ever official meeting (moreso hookup) wasn’t ideal, yet the way Jin dragged him through the mud undoubtedly made him understand that you weren’t the type of woman that should ever undergo the treatment he puts his hookups through. Scratch that, any woman shouldn’t be treated the way Jungkook treats them.

You're now fully covered under the towel, not a sliver of skin on display. You don’t know if his apology was genuine. “It’s ok I guess, I expected nothing less from you anyways.”

“Right.” He’s messed up.

You clear your throat, “I’m gonna go get changed, maybe look for Jieun unless-”

Jungkook finishes your sentence, “-she’s fucking Yoongi.”

You exhale, “yeah.”

“Jeon Jungkook!”

The voice makes you halt at its familiar tone. Jungkook doesn’t notice your growing panic as he too freezes in his spot. 

No, it can’t be.

The world plays in slow motion when he walks into your line of vision. His assertive stride, smug smile and sharp eyes.

Jeong Suho.

His name explodes inside of you like a blistering fire yet your heart feels ice cold. He is the very man you have spent weeks trying to avoid and even more trying to get out of your head.

The world plays at a normal speed when he approaches Jungkook. Their facial expressions are the same, the way they greet each other is the same. They’re practically the same breed of fuckboy, born from the same mother.

“Been awhile since I’ve seen you around.”

Jeong Suho was a person that Jungkook didn’t really mind, In fact there was a point in Jungkook’s life where he would’ve considered Suho to be one of his closest friends. They were two peas in a pod freshmen year of college. Never giving a fuck about their education and always present for any opportunity to get completely wasted with as many girls they could possibly seduce. Nowadays, Jungkook would rather keep his distance from him.

On the contrary, you were one of the many girls that had fallen deeply for Suho’s alluring charm. You fell so hard, you thought that maybe just maybe there was a possibility that you could secure a future with him. Obviously that was not the case.

You thank your lucky stars that Jungkook was there to distract Suho while you make your haste escape. All you need to do now is somehow locate an unoccupied bathroom, preferably without having to walk in on someone getting it on, and then you could get the hell out of there.

You must admit, you look quite ridiculous right now. Navy blue towel wrapped tightly around your body, your small head peeking through. You could probably pass as some form of E.T cosplay right now. You don’t care if you look rude, pushing and shoving whoever stands in your way. You only have one goal and you’re so so close to succeeding-

“Wait, Y/N! Is that you?”

Fuck.

Do you run? Maybe duck behind some poor innocent student looking for a good time? You huff, you're already sticking out like a sore thumb, there’s no use in trying to hide when the enemy has already spotted you. Even worse Jungkook motions you over with a wide gleaming smile. If only he knew how much you’re dreading this interaction.

Grudgingly, you walk over, looking like an irritated gremlin with your towel still firmly secured around you. Jungkook makes matters worse by pushing the towel off your head, releasing your scruffy ball of hair. You grimace. 

“I didn’t know you knew Y/N?”

Suho sends a smirk your way. You however, glower.

“Yeah we go way back, don’t we baby?”

You force a tight lipped smile, howbeit you look as if you have a mild case of constipation. 

“Sure.” It comes out rough through gritted teeth.

Suho notes your frustration, a sly grin carving onto his punchable face. He turns towards Jungkook, seemingly blocking you from their conversation, yet you know Suho wants you to hear what he has to say.

“You know it’s a shame. Y/N’s gorgeous, ten outta ten body, knows how to put it to good use, however she never let me fuck her. Don’t you think that’s weird?”

Jungkook stays silent for a minute, eyeing your shaking fists and angry eyebrows. Jungkook may be dumb, but he sure knows how to read a room, thus leading him to the conclusion that your relationship with Suho isn’t something you’re very fond of and that he should probably get you out of here.

“Uhhh no, that’s not weird at all actually. What I think is weird is the fact that you think you have this sick claim on every girl you’ve defiled and even worse, you’ve always had this strange need to chase after every virgin you see like some perverted cherry picker. Yeah, that’s weird.”

Suho laughs right in his face, spit grossly tickling his skin. “That’s rich coming from you Jeon, weren't you quite the cherry picker in your freshman days, no?”

Jungkook doesn’t know what he expected from this conversation. It definitely wasn’t this.

It's obvious that Jungkook isn’t a saint, he really fucking far from it. Although, one thing's for sure, it’s his absolute hatred for the way his brain was wired in his freshman year of college. Yes, Jungkook still remains as one of the standing campus fuckboys but he’s gained a few more brain cells since then. 

Jungkook opens his mouth to retort, only to be met with Suho’s back as he turns his attention towards you.

“Y/N, darling if I were you i’d make a run for it, ya know keep your chastity intact or whatever.” His smile is saccharine sweet, though his words are sickly sour.

The months of pent up anger stored within your being bubbles and overflows like a bad science experiment. You’ve quickly decided that now’s that time to expose the shitty excuse of a man, and quite frankly you don’t care that you have an audience. Actually, an audience would make this all the better.

Your finger is strong, pointing accusingly at his broad chest. “You know what you stupid motherfucker? Don’t waltz in here with that dumb smile of yours when you know you have some disgusting cheesy infection growing down there.”

Suho’s eyes widen slightly. It was no secret he was a walking STD, just about infecting every girl that was naive enough to sit on his dick. 

Everyone at the party has definitely stopped to listen to what you have to say. You even spot Jin from the corner of your eye sending you a proud smile. “And while we're on the topic of cheese, Learn how to wash your fucking dick!”

You don’t let him have a moment to speak, grabbing Jungkook’s hand and pulling him out of the house.

A few people applaud, some girls praise you on your way out. You give them no mind, you’ve had enough for tonight.   

Jungkook starts his car, no questions asked. It’s obvious to him that there’s bad blood between you and Suho. What you don’t know is that Jungkook can also relate. 

Technically there was no bad blood between them, moreso the hurtful memories and manipulation Suho put him through. To put it simply, Suho was probably the worst influence Jungkook could ever have as a vunerable freshman. 

The crunch of gravel and soft melodies that spill out of Jungkook’s radio converse with eachother and fill the defeaning silence that sits between you and Jungkook. 

Jungkook doesn’t even know where he’s going, he just drives. 

Every so often he checks up on you from the corner of his eye. Your knees stick tightly together and point away from him. Your fingers curl and uncurl, leaving cresent moons in your skin. And to finish it off, your face remains still, hostility completely washing over your features. If Jungkook didn’t know any better he would think you’d jump out of his car and make a run for it at the chance of him stopping the car.

It’s seven sniffles later when Jungkook decides he knows where he should take you.

The night sky is clear and the stars burn brightly to accompany the full round moon. It’s the perfect setting for release and maybe a screaming session if you’re up for it.

Jungkook makes a stop behind a forest of tall trees and a dirt path. You sit up immediately. 

“Where are we?” Your eyes are rimmed with tears, “I want to go home.”

Jungkook shuts the engine off, “you never told me where you live.”

“Well you never asked!”

Maybe you shouldn’t have yelled because from the looks of it, Jungkook just wants to help you out and clearly you’re not being the friendliest right now. 

You curl back into yourself, “sorry”, another sniffle.

Jungkook brings your fists into his hands and warmly opens them up. You refuse to look at him, it doesn’t deter Jungkook one bit.

Tenderly he brings a finger under your chin, gradually bringing your eyes up to his. Jungkook takes his time with you, careful to not set you off until you’re face to face with his warm eyes. 

“I brought you here because it’s apparent we both need let out some pent up steam.” He drags his fingers delicately across the curve of your chin and back into his lap. His touch is fleeting, you miss it already. “I just thought you may want to vent or just shout out into the void, it’s up to you.” You nod, fully trusting Jungkook’s intentions. “And at any time you feel like going home just say the word and I’ll take you there, okay?” 

Your heart swells in adoration at his caring nature, though you can’t help but wonder how he can have such a sudden change in personality depending on where he is and who he’s with. It’s unnerving. 

Jungkook clicks his seatbelt off and heads out the car, “put your dress back on princess, I’ll be out here waiting for you.” You mutter your confirmation and do as he asks.

The cool summer air kisses your skin and runs through your hair as you step out of the car. Jungkook is already by your side dressed in an oversize hoodie with another in his hand as well as a fuzzy blanket. 

Jungkook steps closer to you, holding the hem of his hoodie to slip over your body. Without a second thought you raise your hands causing Jungkook to chuckle at how cute you look dwarfed in his clothes.

The same cologne you smelled on his skin earlier lingers on every fibre of fabric around you. His scent is everywhere, swirling around your head, instantly calming down your anxieties. You smile at him, “Lead the way Jungkook.”

Jungkook leads you up a small hill and you notice the trees opening up to display a lush field of grass. However, the sight before you leaves you in absolute wonder. You stand completely still and take it all in. 

The night sky is dark but the city below illuminates is beautifully. Your gaze bounces over all the buildings, skyscrapers and their dazzling bright lights. It’s peaceful up here, you decide as you take a glimpse of the hundreds of tall structures looking so tiny, so ant-like.

Jungkook is settled behind you, his legs comfortably folded underneath himself. He remembers what it was like the first time he saw the view, which is why he doesn’t blame your stunned silence and glazed eyes. 

“How did you find this place?”

You find your way towards Jungkook and plant yourself right beside him. “I don’t know, I was just driving aimlessly one night and found it, It’s nice right.”

You hum, “it’s beautiful.”

Jungkook murmurs in agreement as you lie down on the woolly blanket beneath you. The stars twinkle and glimmer amongst the deep blue sky, creating a serene experience. You shut your eyes.

“I hate him.”

Jungkook looks down at you, you don’t see him though. “Suho?”

“Yeah”, you exhale deeply, “I can’t believe I had to see him again.”

Although Jungkook knows you can’t see him, he swivels his body around to face you properly. “Did you guys date or something?”

You scoff, “pffft you know Suho doesn’t date anyone.” You open your eyes, meeting a pair of round docile ones. You continue, “Suho was the first guy who every gave me an ounce of attention. Before him guys never looked my way. Jungkook remains silent, letting you pour out what’s on your mind.

“Suho had me fooled, I thought I was special to him, thought he saw something in me that was different from the others. Turns out that was his game after all”

You speak so animatedly, your hands wave around in the air, your eyebrows scrunch when the memories come back to you. “It’s stupid really, how I used to gush to him about finding the one person in the universe that was created just for me. I guess he used this as my weak point.” 

Inhale, exhale. 

“He made me believe he was that special person for me, used it as an excuse to pressure me into sex.” A tear rolls down the side of your face, falling perfectly in a straight line. “I almost gave in, but something just felt so wrong. Every time I said no he would call me terrible names, tell me that no one would want me if I never gave them what they wanted. And I believed him.”

Another tear escapes your wet orbs, Jungkook is there to wipe it this time.

“I broke it off after I found out he fucked my roommate and gave her some disease.” You chuckle, “I guess I’m lucky I never let him fuck me huh?” 

Jungkook’s heart breaks at your saddened eyes and the way Suho treated you, he sweeps a stray hair out of you face. “I think you dodged a bullet there princess, what he did to you was pure evil, no one, and especially you don’t deserve that”

You sit up, wiping remaining tears and thanking him as you go, “It’s your turn now.” You pat his thigh, “tell me why Suho got you so riled up tonight.”

Jungkook shuffles in his spot, “It’s actually kind of similar to you.”

You gasp sarcastically, “no way he pressured you into sex too?”

He laughs, eyes squeezing shut, “No, no, nothing like that.”

You lean closer to Jungkook, giving him the same attention he had given you. “My father left when my mother found out she was pregnant with me, so growing up I had no male figure present in my life. My mother stopped at nothing to give me that to the point that almost every week I’d wake up and see a new man drinking out of my favourite mug. I didn’t mind it because I was only a child and some part of me always hoped they would stay, but they never did.”

“My mom was a hopeless romantic. She held so much sentimental and idealistic views on love that it stuck to me. She always told me that there was someone special out there just for me.” You smile at the similar belief, Jungkook sighs. 

“Cut to college, Suho was the first friend I made. I had no experience with girls whatsoever, and I still held on to my mother’s faith. Whenever I talked to Suho about it he would always shut me down or make fun of me.”

“He told me that all my feelings are bullshit, and that I only felt that way because I’ve never hooked up with anyone before. Next thing I knew we were going to parties every week getting absolutely shitfaced and fucking every girl I laid eyes on.”

You nod, listening intently. “And tonight, he hit a nerve. What he said made me realise that I’m just as bad as him. He moulded me into this person and now I have a reputation.”

Jungkook’s eyes drop, “he broke my concept of love before I even got to experience it.”

You never knew Jungkook was in a place like this. You always thought he was like Suho, built to break hearts and show no emotion when it came to love. Jungkook was nothing like that. His heart was truly big, desperately longing for someone.

Placing your hand on top of his own you comfort him as best as you can, “oh, Jungkook, trust me when I tell you this, the love in your heart is not broken. Think about it, most people you’ve met have been through college right?” He nods, “there are so many other people out there that you’ve never met, soon you’ll be able to find that someone and learn how to love. I know you present yourself as this emotionless playboy, but once you let that part of you go it’ll feel so freeing.”

Jungkook stares deeply into your eyes, he’s so thankful that he decided to bring you here, he can’t contain his happiness. 

“Can I like, hug you?” Jungkook asks shyly. You smile, and it’s so big and bright Jungkook might as well be staring at the sun. Before he knows it, you’re tackling him into the most wholesome hug he’s ever had. You’re warm and you smell like vanilla, It feels like home.

“Get up”, he says abruptly, extending his arm to pull up your confused self.

“What-”, Jungkook cuts you off, “have you ever just let yourself scream?”

Jungkook has intertwined your hands together, and your heart pounds at the realisation of how well they fit together. “Well, no but I assume that’s what we’re about to do right now.”

He pulls you closer to the edge of the small hill, the view of the city sparkles right in front of you. “On the count of three, one- two- three!”

You scream, you let it all out and God does it feel refreshing.

The two of you sound utterly insane, but none you give a single fuck. You scream until your lungs burn and your throat itches you to stop.

The volume of both of your voices ring out into the night sky only for the moon, stars and yourselves. The night is still young but Jungkook wouldn’t have it any other way.

With you he lets go of everything, all the past mistakes, all the hurt because at this moment he feels like he could fly, soar into the clouds. 

He feels infinite.

Taglist <3 

@zibermuda @uskookie @jeonscandies @melaninkpops @apollukee @hollowtree10 @liliskies @madygswich @pjmochii @eggbutnotyolk @gyukult @yukiehyukie @purplepearl07 (couldn’t tag) @tae165 @youurkryptonite @94ser0da @french-myfries @zippytheshark37 (couldn’t tag) @we8joon @tearvantae​ @emrysts @inspinkyring​​

[monsteronfire]

Fishing for a Star

type;; One-shot (6.4K words)

pairing(s);; fratboy!JK x older!Reader/OC

genre;; Slice of Life, Smut, College AU

warnings;; Drinking, oral (male receiving), shy!Koo, sub!Koo, slightly dom!Reader/OC, Yoongi being a dumbass voyeur, both parties pining for each other like idiots

a/n;; I feel like it’s been a motherfuckin’ year since I’ve written and posted anything. I honestly started this thing probably a year ago. I just really love the chill college parties trope. Might add more to this, but unlikely. Enjoy my pain as I cry over JK in leather.

edit;; Totally forgot to put a read more tag on here, sorry y’all. I even told myself to fucking do it right as I started the post. Also the pic isn’t mine, got it off Google.

------

“Please tell me that’s not what you’re wearing.”

You step out of the way for your housemate, the hoodie you’d picked out momentarily blinding you while you pulled it over your head.

“If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be putting it on.” You say, finally getting it over your head and shaking the hair out of your face. You blink at her half-way-to-getting-ready state, noting in the back of your head how good she looks even now. Her hair is done, wavy and a little disheveled. The shine of the dark strands makes you want to run your fingers through them, knowing they will be soft. Her makeup is half done and she’s dressed only in her underwear, but she’s beautiful all the same. You can tell she’s planning to doll herself up tonight and why shouldn’t she? It’s one of the biggest frat parties of the year and with it being her last year, she’s aiming to have a good time.

“This is a party, (Y/N). At least try and look a little slutty.”

You snort and grin a little, watching her pop her hip out while she eyes you.

“Why is that, baby?” You reply, reaching up to pull a couple of strands of her hair back into place fondly.

“I plan to get laid tonight. I expect you to too, babe.” She snaps, swatting your hand away.

“Sorry, sexy. I’m fishing for something special tonight and it doesn’t require the slutty look.”

“Oh god, not again.”

“What?” You question, turning back to the full length mirror and carding your fingers through your own hair to fix it.

“You’ve been after this boy for three years, (Y/N). He’s got you wrapped around his finger.” She states, walking away from you and back into the bathroom. You’re still smiling when you check one final time to make sure the jeans you’re wearing make your ass look great before leaning against the door frame.

“That was my plan from the beginning. Now I just need to wrap him around mine.”

She snorts, leaning over the sink and closer to the mirror.

“I said three years, didn’t I? If you haven’t bagged him yet, you won’t.”

You pout at her, but are undeterred. You know what kind of person he is and you’re well aware of how much work he had and will continue to take. You could tell he was not a one and done from the first moment you saw him. He would take time, a lot of it and you were willing to put it all in.

“You know how stubborn I can be.” You chuckle at her. She rolls her eyes, but smirks none the less. She knows she can’t say a word to change your mind.

“Whatever. If I catch you two together, I’m telling him to fuck you already.”

You laugh as you walk away, working on gathering what you’ll want to take to the party.

“You sure I’ll even be allowed at this thing?!”

“Are you kidding?! Everyone is invited to this party. The doors are left open so anyone can just fucking walk in off the street!”

You chuckle, grabbing your bag and stuffing your wallet in it. You’d graduated a couple years ago and while most of the seniors would know you, you sometimes felt weird hanging out at a party in the college you’d already graduated from. A girl has to do what she has to do when a baby boy is on the line, though.

And a baby boy he was.

-

“Jae!”

You smile as you and your friend enter the large, old house. The lighting is dim, the music is thumping and all you can smell is alcohol, sex and sweat. There’s noise all around you, but you and your friend weave through the crowd easily. Nearly everyone greets you as you two pass, guys high-fiving you and girls giggling and touching your arms. You bounce to the music as you follow her, the two of you making your way past the front stairs and down the hall. You make a pit stop in the kitchen- Jae grabbing the classic Solo cup and you pulling a bottle of beer from a cooler full of ice- before heading out onto the back deck.

The backyard is just as crowded as the house, people in the pool, people in the gazebo and people littering about the yard and deck. There’s a large bonfire near the back of the yard and a couple other smaller fire pits in random spots. One of them is up on the deck in a small metal  pit, the warm flames surrounded by the very reason you and Jae came tonight.

“There’s our girls!” Namjoon shouts, lifting his can and drawing the attention of the seven other guys around him to you two. Taehyung, Hoseok and Jin all shout in unison as they spot you, Tae standing and pressing a sloppy kiss to your friend’s cheek. Yoongi and Namjoon lift their hands as you get closer and you reach out to slap each one. Jimin stands to press little pecks to first your cheek and then Jae’s. You all greet each other quietly before Jae slides herself into her target’s lap. She’s been after Jin all year and you haven’t been the only person sitting back to watch their game of cat and mouse. Jin is practically an expert at flirting just enough to keep her hooked without giving her what she really wants.

To be young and in lust.

Your eyes finally find the last member of the group, his silence keeping him out of spotlight unless he’s being searched for. He’s already looking at you when you spot him and his eyes dart down to his shoes while he shuffles behind Yoongi and Jimin. He can only keep his eyes off you for a moment before they find yours and he’s trapped. You smile softly at him, taking delight in how his eyes widen a fraction and his pupils grow. He’s holding a Solo cup, the rings on his fingers glinting in the firelight as he deftly squeezes them a bit tighter. He looks good tonight, his dark hair pushed back away from his forehead to show his strong brow. He’s dressed in all black, black t-shirt tucked into black jeans, black boots and to top it all off a leather jacket. He definitely pulled all the stops on you tonight and you have to make a conscious effort not to drool when you stare at him. He looks like a badass and you know every other girl in this joint sees him the same way, but you know the truth.

“Uh-oh,” Jae mumbles into Jin’s ear.

“She’s spotted her target and is locked on.”

You don’t bother listening to her, instead creeping closer to the object of your desire.

“Hey, Jungkookie,” You murmur quietly to him, leaning in a bit closer, but not too close. You had to be very meticulous with him.

“Hey, noona,” he responds shyly and the whole circle of friends is a sniggering mess for a moment. Pink begin’s to dust his cheeks, but you spare him a little and turn to flick Jimin in the back of the head.

“You lot are pretty curious tonight. Weren’t you all having a conversation before we came up?”

They all snigger some more, but quickly go back to bullshitting around the fire, leaving you and Jungkook in peace. You take another step closer to him, half expecting him to maintain the distance between you, but he remains still and lets you get closer. Threes years it’s taken you to get even this close to him, his overtly shy and sweet demeanor keeping him just out of reach of your darker, more corrupted hands.

“You look good tonight,” you comment and his blush darkens in the firelight. He thanks you almost too quietly, quickly bringing the cup of beer he’s holding to his lips to distract himself somehow and it has you chuckling lowly at him. He looks away from you, avoiding your eyes and you can’t stop the fiendish grin on your lips. You finally give him some respite, turning away from him to join in on the random conversation that the group is sharing around the small fire pit.

Finally…

He get’s his chance and takes it without a second thought. He spent years hesitating in such small matters and found himself either missing out or always caught if he didn’t take the chance when it was presented to him. So he learned. Now when you have those few precious moments where your focus is not on him- where you are off guard for just a beat- he gets to watch you instead. Watch the way your eyes glow in the firelight, or the way your hair just barely shifts as a warm breeze lazes by. He takes in your simple outfit, jeans and a sweatshirt. Nothing like the rest of the girls at every party he’s ever been to. Your smile moves your whole face, your cheeks rising, you lips splitting and even your eyes squinting shut as you tease Taehyung. His lips quirk a little on their own when he notices that your ears shift a little when you smile as well.

Your lashes are long even without makeup, so much so that the first time he’d ever met you he could have sworn they were fake. But then he caught you tugging on them one afternoon while you told old stories with Namjoon. You did it regularly and had told him you could feel the dead ones coming out, you wanted to get them before they fell into your eyes. A quirk he’d logged away to keep safe for the rest of eternity. The beer in your one hand shifts to the other, the rings on your fingers clinking just loud enough for him to hear over Hoseok’s shouting. A hobby of sorts you shared with Jimin. You two wore the same ring size and often went shopping for new ones together, even swapping every now and again. The free hand moves about in the air as you speak and Jungkook thinks it almost weird now to see someone talk without gesturing with their hands so much. How did one truly immerse another in their words if they didn’t show them how it felt as well? When you were angry- fuming for either your own hardships or for those of a friend- you pointed a lot, your head shaking and your hands slicing through the air to signal how done you were. When you told stories of your adventures with the oldest members of his brothers your hands where always in the air; swiping, rolling, falling and twisting. You painted such a picture with only the movement of your hands when you spoke. They weren’t really dainty, your palms wide and your fingers not very long, but they fit perfectly with his hands. A fact that amazes him, but that he’s grown rather fond of. When you laugh, it’s loud. Not soft, not like the twinkling of bells, but like a song. Loud, but still beautiful and it can range from joyous mirth to deep and rich fondness, the type of feeling that fills your chest with warmth and adoration. That’s the laugh he enjoys the most, that deep chuckle. The one you give to him quietly so just the two of you can hear it.

He wants you. He was confused at first, for a long time. Scared of your mature age compared to him and your strength. He always sees you as strong, even if you don’t think so yourself. You always make him nervous, unsure if he is really worthy of the sweet attention you give him. The quiet whispers just between the two of you, the soft touches, the adoring look in your eyes. He fears all your attention, but he can’t deny now that he wants it- needs it. He can’t go a day without it.

-

The party winds down and you are delighted at the sight of mattresses being brought down and strewn haphazardly across the floor in their living room. When Jungkook finally picks his spot you waste no time in shuffling closer to his mattress. Normally you would keep your distance, allowing him his comfort of solitude to sleep, but you’ve already allowed him plenty of his liberties tonight. You will get something out of this evening if not a simple kiss in the dark. He shocks you by saying nothing as you lay down, your eyes just catching a glimpse of Jae and Jin heading upstairs. Probably to his room to finally earn what she’s worked so hard for. She quickly casts you a thumbs up, a large grin on her face as she tries to keep it unnoticed by anyone else in the room. You return the gesture and chuckle, groaning a bit when you body finally hits the not so comfortable springs. You take a moment to sigh before opening your eyes again and focusing them on the object of your desires.

He’s staring right back at you and your breath catches in your throat, lost in the sea of stars in his eyes. They’re wide and shining, staring so intently at you that you almost don’t take notice to the shine of his lips. Like he’s just licked them a few times. Even in the dim light of the moon that filters in through the windows and the very few lights in the house on you can see them glisten, and your eyes are torn between them and his shining eyes. He looks like a lost puppy staring at you, but there’s more in his eyes. He looks in awe, almost afraid and- dare you say it- a little eager. Like he wants something to happen, but it scares him and that thought alone drives straight to your core. A fire alights inside you and suddenly you’re staring back at him with equally wide eyes, your bottom lip trapped between your teeth. The action immediately draws his large eyes to your mouth and fuck if you don’t almost groan when his tongue pokes out to lick nervously over his lips again.

His mouth parts ever so slightly and you swear you can hear him panting a little over the din of people ambling to where they plan to sleep. Someone plops down directly behind you, their back hitting yours as they shift to get comfortable. You’re right on the edge of the mattress, so this person has to be hanging off the one they’re laying on to be this close to you. And by the feel of how broad their shoulders are it’s definitely a man. Your eyes narrow and you almost growl when Jungkook stiffens in front of you and the man knocks against you again. Your head turns just enough to spot the thin, white shirt he’s wearing stretch over one shoulder before you’re shoving back with your elbow. He grunts when you dig into his back, but says nothing else, only leaning away from the discomfort. He’s clearly wasted. Still, he’s too close to you and taking the great opportunity presented before you, you scoot closer to the apple of your eye. He doesn’t shy away and it takes all your effort not to reach out to him when you finally focus back on him.

“Sorry,” you whisper, scooting just a tiny bit closer than you really need to. He shakes his head quietly, mumbling out an ‘it’s okay’ while his body leans closer to yours. God you want to ravage this sweet boy. It’s practically making your heart explode with how cute he’s being right now. He’d looked away in his response, but when he looks back to you he’s dragging his lip through his teeth and you really can’t take it. Again you two are lost in your own little world as you stare at each other.

“Jungkookie… you’re not being very nice to me right now.”

His eyes widen even further- if that’s even possible- and he looks almost stricken at the comment.

“What?” He manages to almost whimper out and you just can’t stop yourself from scooting even closer to him.

“You’re looking at me so sweetly, baby. How am I supposed to play nice with you tonight if you keep staring at me like that?”

You don’t know where all this confidence is coming from. Granted you’ve always been a bit more confident than the young man in front of you, but even still, you never thought you’d get to a degree where you were saying such flirtatious things in such a dominant tone to him.

“Play… nice?”

The glint changes in your eyes and Jungkook visibly shutters at the sight. Your eyes had been so deep and full of adoration just a moment ago, now all he sees is greed and lust. It makes his already hard cock twitch in his pants. Gods he’s been hard from the moment you called him that nickname- Jungkookie. He generally doesn’t like anyone, but the guys saying it. But every time you say it…

He’s almost scared to feel how excited he’s getting every time you scoot a little bit closer. He doesn’t want you to stop. Not until your body is finally pressed to his and he can hold you so tight, and never let go. He’d hoped something would have happened between you two before tonight, but he was always so scared and you were always so cautious with him. He just wants you to ravage him already. He’s dreamed about it practically every night, it might as well happen already.

“Stop,” you suddenly say and he can feel your fingers on his chin, pulling his lip from between his teeth.

“If you lick or bite your lips one more time,” you have to take a moment to calm yourself before continuing, “… I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself.”

He throbs in his jeans and when he locks eyes with you he’s lost. He doesn’t want you to stop, he realizes that now after feeling your fingers touch his skin. Fire ignites where they trace from his chin and along his jaw. He trembles beneath your touch and you can feel it. Oh you can feel it. You do the opposite of what you just told him, biting your lip to draw his eyes to them again as you two gravitate ever closer.

“Unless you don’t want me to.”

He doesn’t speak, he feels like he doesn’t know how to in that moment. He doesn’t trust himself to anyway, so he does the next best thing. He licks his lips again and is rewarded. Your fingers that had been running along his jaw suddenly snake into the hair at the nape of his neck and you pull him close. He is just as needy as you are, his hands which had been fiddling with his shirt the whole time are suddenly flying up to tug your bodies even closer. Your lips crash against his and he whimpers into your mouth when you both open them simultaneously, your tongue dragging along his. It takes all your conscious effort not to moan, your body melding itself against his. His arms wrap around you and squeeze you to him, his whimpers turning into a little moan when you gain dominance in the kiss.

You pull away, one of your hands coming back to his jaw to to place a thumb over his open lips. You turn to look back at the bodies laying around the room, most of the members of the fraternity still down here, all of them passed entirely the fuck out. The guy just behind you is snoring up a storm and you can’t help smirking a little when you turn back to face Jungkook. He looks so fucked out already, his eyes glazed and his pupils blown wide as he pants lightly against your thumb. Your smile is both devious and full of fondness as you stare at him.

“You look so good baby, but you have to be quiet for me,” you whisper to him and he does nothing more than open his mouth wider. His tongue snakes out and licks against your thumb, pulling it in and sealing his lips around the appendage. He suckles on it hungrily and gods be damned if your panties aren’t soaked at this point.

“Fuck,” you sigh, squeezing your thighs together. You want him so bad it almost hurts. He pulls away far enough that your thumb pops from his lips and he whimpers once again, pulling you as close as he can.

“Noona, please,” he says, his breath shuddering.

“Please what, baby?”

He grabs one your hands and pulls it down between your bodies, pressing your palm to the bulge in his jeans. Your breathing deepens when you palm the hardness through the thick fabric, wondering how you didn’t notice it before.

“Oh baby,” you coo quietly and rub your hand heavily over his bulge. He bites his lip to hold back the moan threatening to break free and you feel his hips start to rock into your hand. He’s so fucking hot, how have you been able to resist him for so long?

“How long have to been this hard?”

He takes a moment to respond, trying to take deep breaths. Your hand stalls to help him regain some semblance of sanity, but he seems against the idea. His hand returns to gripping yours, pressing your palm back against his hard-on.

“Long time,” he finally gets out in a clipped tone, probably unable to speak properly at this point.

“Poor thing.”

You pull closer to him, pressing your forehead to his and lowering your voice so that you’re barely audible.

“Take your cock out for me, baby. Please.”

He keeps you close and groans into your neck, only taking a moment to collect himself before he’s pushing away, and his hands are flying to undo his pants. He struggles with the button for a moment, but you don’t help him, only leaning back to watch with excitement. When he finally gets them undone he’s tugging them down just enough so he can freely pull is cock out and gods is it beautiful. Your mouth waters as soon as he has it out, its pink color and red head making you want to feel the weight of it on your tongue. It’s not particularly long, but it’s thicker than you thought it would be and the precum that glistens on his tip calls out to you. You let out a heavy breath when his hands hover just shy of his shaft, trembling and aching to give the poor weeping thing some relief. Still he hesitates to touch himself.

Such a good boy.

“You’re so gorgeous,” you practically wheeze out, finding it hard to breathe when your twitching hand finally reaches out for him. He’s whimpering before you even touch him and you have to remind him to be quiet when the tip of your finger goes to touch the head.

“Remember, baby, keep it down.”

He nods a little shakily and just as you press into the precum on his tip with your finger, his hands are flying up to cover his mouth. He’s so sensitive and you love it.

“Well, you’re certainly aching there aren’t you? Does it feel good to have me touch you?”

Again he nods and you pout, swirling your finger in the sticky fluid at his tip. His eyes clench shut at the sensation and he deftly thrusts his hips up to meet more of your hand.

“Use your words or I’ll have to stop.”

“Yes,” he whispers out harshly, his hands clenching into fists at his stomach, “… yes, yes, yes, yes!”

You smirk, the high you’re getting from all of this driving you to carry on.

“Good boy.”

You continue to swirl your finger over his tip a few more times, widening your circle until you’re sliding your finger down the top of his length, all the way to the base. He pants a little too heavily, his eyes glued to your hand and what you’re doing to him. You circle around his base to the bottom of his cock before dragging your finger back up and rubbing it deftly over the slit a few times.

“Fuck noona-“

“Language, Jungkookie.” You say with a smirk, your hand finally flattening over the underside of his length so you can palm him a few times. His hips rock against his will and meet you half way every time you press down on him. He looks so pretty like this, his eyes nearly black and so focused on how your palm drags over his length. He’s sweating a little, panting a lot and his gorgeous cock is ready to explode at any second. And you’ve barely even done anything to him yet.

“What made you so hard and needy like this?”

He stays silent for a long moment, only answering when the pressure of your hand lightens and you begin to pull away.

“You… you made me like this. You always… make me like this.”

Always?

“Fuck, Kookie, if you had told me sooner we might’ve actually got it in tonight.”

His eyes are glistening at this point as they shoot up to glance at you before scrunching shut when your fingers finally wrap around his shaft. You pump him slowly, but his hips make up for that and keep the sliding of his cock in and out of your hand at a steady pace.

“I wanted to. Fuck I wanted to, but…”

“But?”

He pants a few times, focused more on chasing his high. Your grip on his cock tightens to the point that he’s forced to stop thrusting, only allowing him to continue when he answers.

“I-I was scared. And you were being so cautious with me-“

“Of course I was! I didn’t want to scare you away. I worked too hard for you, I wasn’t going to mess that up by being too greedy.”

His hips stutter and then pause, his eyes opening to look at you. His face is flush, you can tell even in the dark, and his hair is starting to stick to his face. Still he looks like the sexiest, most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

“Why?”

“What?” You ask, not prepared to be questioned back like this.

“Why did you put so much effort into me. You could’ve easily slept with one of the other guys. Yoongi’s always had the hots for you. So has Tae. Why me?”

You take a long moment to mull over your answer, your other hand coming up to push some of his sweaty hair out of his face. When you get some clear, you lean in to kiss him a little more gently this time. Though it isn’t any less heated, it’s more of a deep sensual kiss than one of hunger and lust. When you pull away, you look him in the eyes when you answer.

“The same reason anyone chooses anyone else. You’re the one I wanted, Kookie. I would’ve put in a hundred years of work if I had to.”

His eyes are wide with adoration and awe, but the moment can’t last forever. His cock twitching in your hand reminds you of what is happening and you squeeze it gently before going back to pumping him. He gasps quietly at the sensation, his eyes falling closed and his body slowly starting to roll backwards. You move with him, pressing your body into his side when he’s finally laying flat on his back. His hands are clenching and unclenching against his stomach, desperate for some kind of anchor. A thought pings into your mind while you watch him grasp sporadically at his shirt, releasing his cock and pushing both his hands and the shirt up his abdomen. He whines at the loss of contact, lifting his head to see why you’d stopped stroking him only for his eyes to go wide. He looks a bit panicked, his gaze darting around to the half dead bodies around you two. You could so easily be caught, but most of the occupants of the house were completely wasted and would likely never remember this even if they did see it.

You slide down his body quietly, stealthily, like a cat taunting its prey into the shadows. Your eyes catch his and they hold him, their mischief so palpable that it makes Jungkook’s mouth go dry and his cock pulsate so fiercely it taps against his stomach. Your one hand trails down his side lightly, nails tickling his hip and thigh so that he’s shuddering beneath you. He reaches for you, one hand cupping your cheek- wants to tell you to stop, but his throat is so dry he can’t even whisper. Or perhaps he’s lying to himself and doesn’t want you to stop at all. When you quirk an eyebrow in question and you feel the object of your desire tap against your throat with another needy pulse, you know the answer is no, he doesn’t want you to stop.

A trembling whisper of your name leaves his lips and you can only smirk, tilting your head down to kiss just above his navel and then to one side of it. Down, down, further you trail, your kisses getting sloppier as you descend closer to your target. Your tongue and teeth leave wet, rosy patches as you go and you can feel his muscles quivering every time you touch him until finally the desperately red tip of his cock is right in front of you. He whimpers beneath you and you shush him gently, unable to tear your eyes away from the way it pulses and twitches up towards you.

“Please,” he finally lets out, sounding much like he’s on the verge of tears. You smirk again and glance up at him through your lashes.

“Please what, baby?”

He huffs cutely, his other hand cupping the other side of your face and his thumbs smoothing along your cheekbones like he’s so desperate to just pull you into his cock, but doesn’t want to be too demanding. You smile a bit more when his look gets more and more frantic, one of your arms reaching up to rub his chest under his shirt soothingly.

“Relax, my sweet star. Just tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

“P-please…”

“Go on, baby. I know you want it, just tell me.”

“Please, I want your mouth,” he finally shutters out, but you can’t help yourself and push just a bit more.

“What do you want from my mouth?”

He huffs again and looks away, searching the room to make sure everyone there is truly oblivious.

“I-I want…”

“Want?”

“Please, noona, ravage me with your mouth.”

He looks you directly in the eyes as he finishes and the glee that soars through you practically makes you light headed. You grin broadly at him and bite your lip.

“I’ll give you anything you want, bunny. You just have to ask.”

Before he can really bask in your words you focus back on his cock, the hand that had been trying to soothe him shooting down to wrap gently round his base and lead his head to your waiting tongue. His breath shudders out and his mouth opens to let out a rush of air. The precum leaking from his tip covers your tongue in salt, but you don’t mind, all too desperate to feel the full weight of him at the back of your throat. Still you take your time, only licking at his slit to tease him, another droplet of precum oozing out every time to you do.

He’s panting while he watches you, his hands trembling on your face until one shakily weaves into your hair at the crown of your head. He doesn’t grip or pull, doesn’t try to shove more of his cock into your mouth which is what you’re used to. No, he’s too gentle and sweet to force anything. He only wants and lets you lead the way. When you finally wrap you lips around his tip he can’t hold back the noise, his head falling back, his teeth digging into his bottom lip and what he hopes is a quiet moan leaving him. And you can only smirk at the sound, the subtle shudder in his voice making you even more wet and your stomach clench with desire.

You take the time to generously wet the head of his cock, delighting in its twitches while you swirl your tongue around him. When you pop him from your lips the poor thing looks pathetic, practically weeping in your fingers and you feel all too obliged to take him back in. Only this time you take him all in, or at least as much as you can. You suck him all the way to the back of your throat, moaning quietly around his shaft so he can feel the vibrations. And oh does it make him make the most wonderful of sounds. A surprised cry and the slapping of a hand over his mouth (the one that was lightly stroking his fingers along your cheek) has you trying to smile around him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-…”

He lets the mantra trail off quietly, his body arched so you can’t see his face anymore. And as much as you adore the sight of him losing control, you’d much rather see the pleasure on said face. You suck harshly and pull off him, letting him once again pop from your lips. You take care to pump him slowly while you speak, you spit slicking his cock enough that there’s little friction.

“Look at me baby.”

It takes him a few moments, but you wait patiently until he realizes you gave him an order and he follows through. He looks a little lost when he finally locks eyes with you, his gaze a little wild like he can’t really see you at first.

“Noona?”

“Are you with me, sweetheart?”

He looks confused, but nods all the same, probably ready to agree to anything at this point.

“Listen carefully, baby. I want you to look at me the whole time. Don’t you dare look away or I’ll stop, okay? Eyes on me.”

He nods deftly, afraid he won’t be able to fulfill your request, but eagerly wanting to please you.

“Good boy.”

You don’t give him any time to prepare himself and suck him back in as far as he’ll go. He wheezes and squeezes his eyes shut for just a moment, quickly remembering your order and opening them back up to focus on you again. You smirk around his cock to let him know you approve and focus back on your task. When you can’t push him any further down your throat you opt to bob your head, one hand stroking what you can’t swallow and the other massaging his balls. You look up every few seconds to make sure he’s still watching and only have to stop once to make him look at your again. The sloppier his cock and your mouth gets the more he shakes and shudders beneath you, the hand in your hair trembling like a leaf in the wind. He keeps his other hand up by his face, ready to cover his mouth every time he can’t hold back a whimper or moan.

It doesn’t take long, only a few minutes and he’s desperately pleading to you, “I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I-“

You push him in as far as you can take and swallow around him just once before he’s shooting his load down your throat. Tears form in his eyes when he squeezes them shut and you can’t fault him when his head falls back onto the mattress. He did such a good job of watching you, you’ll let him have this one. When the last of his cum is swallowed down, you take care to gently clean what you can off his cock with your tongue. He shakes and gasps beneath you as you do, his head shaking back and forth as if to say he can’t take anymore. You pop off him one last time and kiss his tip softly, grinning when he finally cracks his eyes open to look at you.

He looks madly in love while he stares at you and it makes you somewhat nervous to see such intense emotion in his eyes. You lift yourself and crawl back up his body, pausing to help him pull his pants back up and his shirt back down. You hush him when he tries to button and zip everything back up, pushing his weak and tired hands away.

“No one will notice, just rest baby.”

“Well that was hot.”

You freeze over him, Jungkook’s body going rigid and his eyes widening with fear. You both look over your shoulder and spot Yoongi a small ways away from the foot of your mattress, laying on his side with his head propped up in one hand. He’s smirking at the two of you and while Jungkook looks mortified, you only feel proud. Now someone has witness that Jungkook is yours and no one else can have him.

“Hyung,” he whispers harshly, both his hands coming up to cover his face. You smile fondly at your boy before looking back to Yoongi.

“Well if you’re good and keep this to yourself, maybe next time you can join us.”

Yoongi quirks an eyebrow and grins excitedly, Jungkook letting out a panicked noise when you settle in beside him. He whispers to you quietly as if he doesn’t want Yoongi to hear and you only shush him gently to calm him.

“Lay down and rest, bunny. Don’t worry about him, he’ll keep quiet.”

“But-“

“Shh, sleep.”

You run your fingers through his hair until he finally settles down, turning so that he can wrap himself around you and tuck his head under your chin. You chuckle lovingly and continue to pet him, using your free hand to flip Yoongi off when he makes lewd gestures at you in the dark.

[1kook]

some way, some how

jeon jungkook x (f) reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The diner.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sojin was... full of surprises.

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

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

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

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

He cut it that same day.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Again, silence.

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

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

“And the paint job?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Actually, I was wondering if—“

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook gulps, reaches forward for more wine but you cradle the bottle to your chest. You nearly gasp when he levels you with a real, stony glare, the expression out of place on his face. “Cuz you’re mad,” he huffs. “At me.”

There was a time you would coddle Jungkook’s every mistake, never let him think he was at fault for anything. You’d grown out of it shortly before high school, recognizing boys were stupid no matter how much you tried to prove otherwise. Since then, you’ve watched him get into trouble time and time again—Sojin being the prime example—and only intervened when absolutely necessary. Some part of you, the half that hates seeing him upset, wants to tell him you’re not. The mature part in you, however, doesn’t let that happen.

“I am,” you agree, watch his eyes widen almost comically at your admission. You set the wine bottle back on the table, leaning your chin on your palm as you level him with the most unimpressed gaze you can. “I’m furious, actually.”

He whimpers, actually whimpers like a kicked puppy, and you can almost see the metaphorical ears pressed against his head and the tail tucked between his legs. His lips are big and pouty, stained from the wine. You’d love to know what they feel like.

Jungkook’s vulnerability lasts all of three seconds, before he’s shaking himself out of whatever emotional pit his foggy brain has him in. “Well, it’s dumb,” he spits, and it’s your turn to sit in shock. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Excuse me?” You ask, incredulously, because this has never happened before. Are you overprotective and sometimes overbearing? Sure. Has Jungkook ever voiced discomfort with that before? Never. “I’m not telling you what to do,” you sneer, crossing your arms over your chest.

He rolls his eyes, pushes away from the table like a moody teen. You know it’s because he’s drunk, because he’s not himself, but you have to remind yourself that he obviously felt this way somewhere in his heart to voice it to you now. “You’re not my mom.”

You choke. “I’m not!” You angrily agree, pushing away from the table as well.

Jungkook snarls, “well you sure do love acting like her.” He picks up his plate, glances over at you with a look in his eyes that can only be likened to that of a sneaky cat, and then purposefully shoves the bread and frosting down the garbage disposal in the sink. You shriek, fly around the table and shove him away.

“What is wrong with you?” You seethe, push him away rudely with a hand on his face. Jungkook stumbles back, slips on the floor and nearly cracks his head on the corner of the counter. “Oh my god,” you exclaim, abandoning the sink in favor of watching the way his face twists up at the sudden motion, stomach contracting beneath his black t-shirt, cheeks puffing. “Oh god, oh god,” you stammer, tugging him to his feet with the strength only a panicked individual about to see an entire cake regurgitated onto their kitchen tile can have.

You’ve barely kicked the door to the bathroom open when Jungkook begins throwing up, gooey vomit spewing from his mouth and onto the floor. It touches your arm, and you shriek before shoving him in the general direction of the toilet.

“Ew, ew,” you freak, shoving your hand under the sink faucet to get that gross feeling away. You wanna vomit yourself, but you tell yourself there can only be one sick person at a time, and right now it’s Jungkook.

He’s got his head in the toilet, disgusting sounds echoing off the ceramic of it. By the time you’ve calmed down and washed your arm thrice, you move over to pull his bangs away from his face, letting him hurl in peace.

“I’m sorry,” he mopes, spews another round of birthday cake into the toilet.

You look away, blindly reach out to turn the bathroom fan on. “Mhm,” you nod, rubbing a hand over his back. Jungkook nods sadly against the toilet seat.

“‘M sorry,” he repeats, gags around nothing but the gross feeling left in his throat. “I-I know you just want…” a pause as he considers throwing up some more, “...want what’s best for me.”

“I do,” you agree, wipe a hand down the side of his face that he leans into. “Not trying to be your mom,” you assure him, and he snorts.

“Be a good mom,” he murmurs, so soft you don’t hear him. You hum, leaning closer and he repeats it. “You’d be… a good mom.”

Not knowing what to do with that information, you just pat his back until he falls asleep, cheek against the toilet seat.

—

“Woah, the sexual tension in this garage is off the charts,” Taehyung blurts from behind you, and you smack your clipboard against his chest. “Oof,” he grunts, rubbing his chest like it actually hurt. “You doing finances for him again?” He asks and you nod.

In an ideal world, Taehyung would leave upon finding out you’re busy. In this world, he simply leans into your personal space, nearly knocking you into an empty tool cart. “Oooh, an extensive list of all the money Jungkook’s stupidly blown this month. How much did he spend on neon signs this time?”

You relent, showing him the shop’s finances. Anywhere else, revealing a business’s finances without the consent of the owner would be a federal crime. Here, it’s the equivalent of showing Taehyung Jungkook’s browser history. “He spent how much on window tint?!”

“A lot,” you say.

There’s a whistle from across the garage, the shop’s resident country bumpkin Park Jimin standing at the huge garage doors with his hand on his hip. “No fraternizing, please.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Boooo,” he shouts, peels himself away from you to flick an impolite finger Jimin’s way. “He’s just jealous,” he tells you, and you frown.

“Of what?” You ask, and Taehyung nearly loses his shit.

“My precious ___,” he sighs, leans his forehead on your shoulder. “So beautiful and smart, yet so slow.” You flick the side of his forehead just as Jungkook strolls by and, seeing your attack, slaps the back of Taehyung’s neck. “Why do you guys hate me!” Taehyung exclaims, jumping at least five feet away from you and Jungkook’s giggling forms.

“How’s it going?” Jungkook asks you, completely ignoring Taehyung’s soulful cries as he glances over your shoulder at the clipboard. You tilt it his way, but he stands close anyway, until you can feel his breath huffing against the back of your neck.

“Okay, but you’re spending a lot of money stockpiling on things that haven’t shown signs of running out yet,” you explain, pointing at the window tint that had astonished Taehyung only a moment ago.

Jungkook grimaces, pink tongue swiping across his lip as he looks at the total amount he’s spent the last three months. “Well, it’s a good thing I have my accountant,” he grins, throwing an arm over your shoulder.

“Not your accountant,” you correct, “just a friend who doesn’t wanna see you run your business to the ground from overspending.”

Jungkook waves you off, and Taehyung tries to sneak into the receptionist office behind you, but Jungkook catches him with his free hand. “This is the life,” he sighs, wistfully gazing over the garage floor. It reeks of motor oil and car paint.

“Count me out,” Taehyung snorts, voicing your disinterest toward such greasy and smelly work. He tries to wiggle out of Jungkook’s hold, but the muscle bunny only straps an arm around his neck, until Taehyung’s squirming and clawing for air against the red sleeve of his jumpsuit.

“My own successful business, a shitload of sexy cars, and of course,” he pauses, squeezes the two of you tighter until you’re both groaning. “My two best friends.” The sap has the gall to peck the top of your heads, and that seems to be the final straw for Taehyung who rips himself away.

“Have this lovefest somewhere else, man,” Taehyung says, flattening his rumpled clothing down. “You’re really putting a nail in my reputation around here.”

Jungkook cackles, mindlessly goes to wrap himself around you from behind. “Your reputation has been trash since that scream you let out the other day,” he informs him, swaying the two of you back and forth. Your heart thunders in your chest, and you just barely manage to avoid Taehyung’s pointed stare.

“Whatever, I’m outta here.” With Taehyung peaced out, you’re left in Jungkook’s arms, gazing over his business like two old lovers. It makes your chest tight, so you quickly go to shake him off.

“We’re okay?” Jungkook murmurs, so soft you almost don’t hear. He’s got his hand wrapped around your wrist, thumb massaging over the bone there like he’s afraid you’ll bolt the second he lets you go.

You nod, tuck the clipboard to your side. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

Those sad puppy eyes, pouty lips turned southward. You want to wipe that look off his face. He sighs, glances at where your skin meets and gives it a squeeze. “I’ve been an ass lately,” he settles on saying. “Said some mean things and ruined your bathroom rug—I’m sorry.”

You don’t know what to say.

Jungkook takes your silence as understanding, reaching down to hold both your hands in his slightly dirty ones. “It won’t happen again. I’d rather lose a million friends than lose you,” he confesses, and something about it feels too real, too raw. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You nod, the constricting feeling in your throat only tightening when he smiles at you, those gentle eyes and plush lips for only you to see. You want to kiss him, swallow him whole. Right here on the garage floor so everyone knows he’s yours.

But you can’t because he’s not.

You settle on swinging your arms between you. “Just don’t do anything stupid,” you warn him, narrowing your eyes playfully. There’s a heavy feeling in your heart, something akin to anguish, but you could never voice it out loud.

“I won’t,” Jungkook promises.

—

Jungkook visits again on a weekday, and you nearly send him straight home when he brandishes another bottle of wine in your face. “It’s nonalcoholic!” He exclaims before you can shut the door on him, foot lodged against the frame. You give in.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask, curling up on the couch in just your shorts and huge t-shirt. Jungkook pops the bottle open, pouring the wine into two limited edition Shrek 2 cups you pulled out from the depths of your cabinet.

“Can’t hang with my bestie?” He throws back at you, snatching the remote from your hands before you can click on another episode of that dumb housewives show. You end up watching National Geographic, some documentary about the role of bioluminescent shrimp in the sea.

“Aw look, they’re kissing,” he cooes at a pair of seahorses that wander across the screen halfway through a shot of some school of shrimp. “How romantic.”

“Wonder what that’s like,” you comment, not thinking too much on the meaning behind your words until you can feel Jungkook’s stare pierce your cranium. “What?”

“You’ve never been kissed?” He blurts, and you choke on your wine.

“You were my first kiss,” you remind him, flush at the memory of the two of you sitting criss-cross applesauce on his bed, knees knocking in what was probably the worst first kiss in the history of first kisses.

Jungkook blinks. “Oh yeah,” he laughs. “With the Tony Hawk poster behind my bed, right?”

“The one and only.”

Jungkook hums, and the two of you melt back into the silence. Nice aquatic sounds fill the room, the camera panning over more colorful fish that Jungkook oohs at appreciatively. You don’t really pay attention, more interested in the way the wine swirls in your cup and the way you can feel Jungkook’s thigh pressed against your knee, like when you were thirteen and trying something new.

You know it doesn’t mean a lot to him. Just another silly childhood memory of you. Not like you have hundreds, thousands of them with each other. By the way he’d blurted the question, you doubt he even remembered it most days. But you did.

It plagued your mind all the time, the soft feel of his mouth and the trembling hand that had held yours. You wonder if he kisses the same still, lips gently puckered. He’s had years to learn, half a decade to get creative with Sojin, and the past four years of being a bachelor to explore more.

You’ve kissed too, plenty of guys who had no meaning and ones you thought would replace him. But it’d been a long time since you’ve let anyone into your bed, more content to please yourself without the overbearing weight of feelings and emotions to wrap around your throat.

Jungkook coughs, and you shake yourself from your thoughts.

He’s looking at you inquisitively, like he can’t get his usual read on you and would rather just ask what’s wrong. “You don’t,” a pause, “hang out with guys?”

It’s devastatingly cute, the way he asks if you’re fucking, and you want to pinch his cheeks. Instead you shake your head, try to hide the grin on your face from his inquisitive expression. “Just you and Taehyung,” you admit.

Jungkook nods. “Do you and Tae…?”

You shake your head furiously. “No! God no, we don’t do anything like that,” you clarify, the thought of Taehyung in your bed enough to make you want to gag.

Jungkook says nothing, just turns back to the documentary to watch more Nemos and Dorys flit across the screen. You polish off your cup of wine, leaning forward to settle it back on the coffee table. As you settle back into the couch cushions, Jungkook speaks again. “So you take care of yourself?”

You freeze.

“Yeah,” you admit after one complete meltdown in your head. Where was this coming from? Why did he want to know? You and Jungkook were close, but you never did this. You never divulged the details of your sex life, never bragged about who you slept with or how many there were. What was going on?

Jungkook doesn’t say anything after that, just turns his attention back to the tv screen, where you’re almost certain the sea horses from before are fucking. Not that you know what it looks like, but you hope at least someone in this room was enjoying themselves and not drowning in the mortification of having their life long crush ask them if they masturbate.

“So, do you use your hands or a toy?”

You choke, slap your chest to ease the pounding of your heart at Jungkook asking such a question. “E-Excuse me?” You ask, scandalized that Jungkook, your sweet and caring childhood friend turned Fabio, could ask you such a bold question about your personal affairs.

“What?” Jungkook says, like he truly doesn’t see the inappropriateness of the situation. He even raises his eyebrows at you, as if urging you to answer the question.

You sigh, fight the flush of your cheeks and stare idly at the cups on the table. “A toy. Hands don’t feel good,” you curtly reply, crossing your arms over your chest and straightening your legs off the couch, hoping that’s the end of his curiosity. This was enough to fuel your 3am anxiety meltdowns for the next five years.

Jungkook nods, and you can feel his penetrating gaze on the side of your face again. A great white shark swims across the screen. Jungkook strikes. “My hands feel good.”

“Jungkook!” You exclaim in horror (and excitement, but you’ll pretend it wasn’t there). “What has gotten into you?”

“What!” Jungkook defends, Bambi eyes looking at you like you’re the unreasonable one here. “We’re having a civil conversation in which I’m trying to open up your worldview.”

You’re flabbergasted. “This is not a civil conversation, what are you even talking about?” You scold, tug your arms around yourself like it’ll actually protect you from the words that don’t seem to be filtering out of his mouth properly. “Why are you so concerned about that?” You interrogate, hope your forceful tone will scare him away.

It doesn’t. Jungkook shrugs, some noncommittal i dont know sound. “I can’t be interested in what you get up to? What my best friend gets up to?” It’s the obvious emphasis on best friend that makes you step down.

“No,” you sigh, rub a hand down your face. “You can be interested,” you tell him gingerly. “We just never really… talked about... those kinds of things,” you rush out, turn away from him as the narrator on screen dives into the intricacies of bioluminescent shrimp in the animal food chain.

As if sensing your discomfort, Jungkook softens, scooting closer to you. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, too close and too warm. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he says, places a palm on your knee.

“I’m not!” You rush to assure him, facing him head on again. His eyes are big and implorative still, and you wonder why he became stuck on that of all things today. “It just surprised me.”

His lips quirk to the side, an unsure grin that has you leaning into his shoulder. You sit in silence, the rise and fall of his body with every breath lulling you into a sense of comfort.

A false one that Jungkook zeroes in on.

The documentary’s wrapping up, soothing ocean sounds and wind instruments playing as the credits roll across the screen, when the hand that had been laying so comfortably on your thigh inches up. At first, you don’t notice it, writing it off as Jungkook just shifting around. You tell yourself it’s just that, until his pinky makes contact with the end of your shorts.

Slowly, you turn towards him, catch his mocha irises lustfully lidded as he toys with the hem. “Kook?” You murmur, so soft, barely there.

“Hm?” He replies, continuing to play with the edge of your shorts, until he gets brave and his fingers slip beneath, index finger just barely grazing the panties underneath. You gasp. “This okay?”

Stuck between your arousal and your common sense, you flounder for a response. He’s so close, and smells so good, curls brushing against your temple the closer he gets. You want him so bad, want him to find his place between your thighs and put those pouty lips to use. But you know it’ll make things different, change whatever it is you’ve had for the past almost thirty years, and you’ll never bounce back. Another brush against your panties, pointer finger wiggling it’s way beneath the fabric, and you’re choking out a “yes.”

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and something in your core tingles at the name, thighs clenching together. “Uh uh,” he chides, nudges them open. “Stay still for me,” he commands, and you do, for all of ten seconds, but then he’s pressing his finger on your clit, panties and shorts muting the sensation. Still, it makes you squirm, fingers clutching the couch cushion beneath you as you struggle to keep them open. “Too much?” He asks, and you shake your head no.

“I-It’s fine,” you whisper, and Jungkook smiles.

He pets you, almost wondrously, for a few beats, watches the way the muscles in your thighs twitch with every press against your mound. Eventually, he decides it’s enough. “Hands don’t feel good for you?” He inquires, your words from earlier obviously having left their mark on him. Slowly, you shake your head. He glances down at the fist you have on the couch, composed features sliding up your face. “Well, yours are so small, princess. Of course they don’t feel good.”

He manhandles you around, tugs you onto the couch until you’re laying down, legs sprawled on either side of him. Pleased with the arrangement, Jungkook glances back down to your bottoms. “These have to go,” he tells you, hooks his fingers in the waistband and abruptly yanks down, leaving you just in your t-shirt.

You go to shy away, but Jungkook stops you, palms resting on the insides of your thighs, thumbs pressing into the skin soothingly. “My fingers are long, see?” He says, raising a hand to wiggle his fingers at you. You nod, heartbeat thundering in your ears. “They’ll feel nice inside.”

You know they will.

You can tell he knows his way around a woman’s body just from the way his hands glide over yours, carefully like he’s mapping you out. Ever so slowly, one hand grows closer, until his thumb is gently circling your clit, and you inhale sharply.

“So wet,” Jungkook hums, his other hand traveling further down, until he’s spreading your pussy lips with two fingers, trailing them through the arousal that gathers there.

You’ve never been so attentively cared for, never had a man zero in on your cunt like it was his first meal in ages. Jungkook’s eyes are clouded with lust, tongue peeking out from between his lips as he watches your pussy lips flutter at his touch.

He swirls his hand over your clit, pressing down. The first sound escapes you, a soft whimper that has you clamping your hand over your mouth in embarrassment. Jungkook grins down at you, shifts closer to press a kiss to the knuckles over your mouth.“Don’t hide from me,” he purrs, pulling away and pressing a kiss to your neck.

You cry out when he gets back to it, massaging your pussy with gentle hands and a thumb against your clit to placate you. “Jungkook,” you choke out, and he beams at his name, takes it as a sign to finally slip two fingers inside. “A-ah,” you whine, arching beneath him.

He basks in your noises, leans close again to press a kiss beneath your ear, against your jaw. “This okay?” He murmurs, curling the fingers inside of you. You mewl, throwing your arms around him as he begins working you open. “How does it feel, baby?”

“G-good,” you pant, turn your head until you can bury your nose in his hair, drown even more in his all-consuming aura.

Another kiss to your neck, before he’s suctioning his lips right below your ear, nipping and sucking at the skin to brand you his. “You like my hands?” He husks, and the patch of saliva he leaves on your neck feels cold without his mouth there. You nod, and Jungkook rewards you with a soft smooch over the hickey he’s left.

His fingers inside you curl and scissor, brush against every inch of your walls until you’re quivering beneath him, gasping his name out. You could melt if his fingers weren’t holding you together. “So tight,” he groans, curling his fingers. The movement touches upon something sensitive within you, and you moan his name loudly.

“O-Oh,” you pant, wiggling beneath him as you try to feel that again. Jungkook lets you, watches you desperately rut into his hands. He drifts away, lets his tongue mouth over your breasts, licking until there’s a damp spot on your t-shirt, the flimsy house bra you’d worn and the t-shirt combined not enough to hide your pebbled nipples.

The drag of his hands against your pussy isn’t enough, the motions not quick enough. Jungkook glances at your twisted features, your quivering pussy, and then, ever so gently, ducks over you, puckered lips letting one, long glob of saliva touch down on your pussy, trickling around his knuckles.

“Fuck,” you choke, watch his tongue swipe over his lip to break the thin bridge that connects you too. Suddenly, everything is smoother, the combined lubrication of your arousal and his spit making the glide of his fingers sinfully slick.

Frantic for release, you lose yourself in him, ready to free fall into your pleasure so long as Jungkook is there to catch you. “That’s it,” he encourages, picks up the pace of his fingers inside you. “Come on, beautiful, let me see that gorgeous face of yours when you come.”

“K-Kook,” you sob, and he smiles against your neck. His fingers work fast, until your muscles are all pulled tight, waiting for that final push to unravel. You make the mistake of glancing down, only to be caught by that pearly smile and adoring gaze. You’re in heaven, you know you are.

There’s no other explanation for this—the way Jungkook holds you like you’re his, hands so gently caressing your most intimate parts. You’re almost convinced you’re having a fever dream, a sick, too realistic dream, but then Jungkook’s biting down on your shoulder through your t-shirt, subtly rutting against your thigh.

“Cum for me,” he purrs against your neck, and you do, sobbing as your orgasm rolls over you, the heavy weight of his cock against your thigh. “Jungkook,” you cry, so pitifully, it has him lunging forward, a kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth.

You feel sweaty and gross, unbelievably tired from the gentle way he opened you up. Blindly, you reach down, feel the hardness of his cock beneath his sweatpants, but Jungkook nudges you away. You huff. “Let me,” you whimper, reach for him again even though you can see the slowness in your movement. “Need your cock in my mouth,” you drawl, almost sleepily. 

“Shh,” he soothes, lips pressed against your neck, where he’s still licking and sucking over every inch of you. You whine. “You don’t have to do a thing, gorgeous,” he assures you, “just wanted to make you feel good.”

—

Work gets stressful shortly after. There’s a new batch of interns coming in this season, new faces who will mess up your coffee orders and jam the printers for a good few weeks. There’s normally a team of employees who train them, a mix of relatively older people from different departments who show them around; a girl in the finance department, the one who usually trains them, is on maternity leave. With no one else to fall back on, the head of the department pushes the duties off on you, claiming your flexibility and work ethic make you the perfect candidate for such a role.

Normally you’d thrive at the praise, eat up every single word like it sustained you. In a way, it did. It was nice to be appreciated and recognized for your hard work, to be thought of so highly, especially in a male-dominated company. However, this time, you know it’s out of convenience that the head kisses up to you, and you end up begrudgingly taking the role.

The gaps in your schedule you’d normally spend relaxing or catching up on other projects are filled with bumbling interns, calling for help every chance they get. It’s like they’ve never done anything on their own, this group, always asking you the correct way to do this, the right way to do that. You haven’t mentored interns in a while, so you spend the first day breezing over old powerpoints and print outs you made years ago. You remember why you’re not fit for mentoring when one of them asks you how to navigate Excel. You nearly rip their head off.

There’s so much going on, you barely get time to see Jungkook, let alone text him. You saw him once the morning after, stack of pancakes on your kitchen table as he rushed you off to work. The shop didn’t open for another hour. He was sweet, kissed your forehead as you left, but he’s always done that. You didn’t have time to talk about whatever the night before was, or what that made the two of you now.

On Friday night, one week into your nightmarish role, you pull into the shop. You'd like to convince yourself it was routine, visiting the shop, but that’s a lie. You desperately miss Jungkook. 

 Most of the garage doors that are usually pulled open during the day are shut, save for one. The last of Jungkook’s employees are leaving, bidding you adieu as you step out of your car. Park Jimin is there, repairing some rickety car in the back corner.

“Boo,” you call playfully, and Jimin doesn’t flinch, merely pulls his head from out of the hood to flash you an easygoing smile.

He whistles at the sight of you. “You look like you’ve been through one of helluva week,” he says, and you, despite your strong personality, feel yourself blush at his comment. Jeez, did you look that bad? Jimin doesn’t elaborate, just pulls out a stool for you to sit on beside where he’s working. “Penny for your thoughts?”

You glance at the plexiglass, the offices hiding down the hall. Jungkook could wait, you presume, settling down beside him. Your skirt tugs up as you settle onto the pleather seat, so you cover your legs meekly with your purse. “Work’s been crazy,” you explain, and Jimin laughs at the obvious.

“You’re telling me,” He hums, and you roll your eyes playfully. “What’s going on at work?”

What hasn’t been going on, you think to yourself, before launching into a full retelling of your new horrendous position, of all the interns with their clueless eyes and useless notebooks. Jimin chuckles, indulges you in a few comments here and there that only fuel you on. He’s just about done with whatever he’s doing to the car at the same time your story wraps up, explaining how you found yourself here, desperate for Jungkook to whisk you off to that arcade you loved as kids. “Jungkook?” He asks, and you nod. “He left a while ago.”

You freeze. “Huh?” You say, dumbly. You almost want to laugh at your own impulsiveness, for showing up without sending him a text or a warning to let him know you were coming. You almost do laugh, but then you remember you and Jungkook never did that anyway. Hell, he showed up at your house a few weeks ago unannounced and drunk. The two of you were hardly the type to plan ahead, so it was weird for him to not be here. He’s been at the shop almost every night since it’s opened, the days he’s not usually a holiday.

“Jimin…” you begin, glancing at the receptionist window once more. “Where’s Jungkook?”

Jimin shuts his tool box, kicking a cart off to the side. “He left with that lady,” he tells you, doesn’t hear the way your heart rips straight out of your chest. No way. “Tall, pretty. Had that nice Corvette he fixed up a while ago.”

“Sojin,” you mumble, and Jimin nods.

“Think that was her name.” As if sensing your tumultuous thoughts, he steps closer, one hand reaching out to steady you. “You alright?”

“God,” you exhale, pushing yourself away from Jimin and the garage and the window. The stool rolls away, almost hits the side of another car but Jimin catches it. He rushes over towards you, watching you wobble in your heels.

“Honey,” Jimin says, steady and warm beside you. “Sit down for me, yeah?” He guides you to a row of seats against the wall, nailed into the floor so you can’t push them away and make even more of a mess. Not that that’s your concern, your mind and heart too preoccupied with thoughts of Jungkook lying to you, going out with that woman again, despite your obvious hatred for her and his promise to you.

Jimin disappears, rushes over to the other side of the garage before returning with a water bottle for you. He cracks it open, presses it into your hands, and then against your lips when you don’t move. “Drink,” he encourages, watching you with worried eyes that only grow more and more concerned the deeper you fall into your thoughts.

You want to cry and beat Jungkook up at the same time. You want to scream at him for lying to you after treating you so nicely, holding you so warmly. Instead, you gasp for breath, clutching your face in your hands like it’s the only thing that grounds you.

There’s a beep outside, chirpy and cute in the way only older models are, and you whip your head up, the headlights of the Corvette painting you in shades of yellow as it rolls to a stop, the tears you hadn’t felt glistening under the light.

Jungkook flings himself out of the driver’s seat, and a sob catches in your throat when Sojin steps out of the passenger seat. Jungkook shoves everything in his path to the side, carts flying into the few automobiles on the floor, tools clanging loudly onto the cement, and just as those arms you love so much are reaching out for you, there’s a hand on his chest stopping him.

“What did you do to her?” Jungkook snarls, pushing Jimin roughly to the side. Jimin, smaller but not weaker, holds his ground, clutching Jungkook by the material of his jumpsuit a second time. “Let— go!” Jungkook shouts, finally worming away from his employee.

He nearly trips before you, stumbling to his knees as he takes your quivering hands in his. “What’s wrong,” he asks, throwing a nasty glare back at Jimin who watches silently from the side. Sojin is still by her car, leaning across the driver’s side now. “What did he do, what did he say?”

You shake your head, dropping your head to tuck your chin against your chest. You hate this. Hate letting him or Jimin or Sojin see you cry. It’s not the person you are, not the self-made woman you claim to be as you cry over the same man who is unknowingly defending you from himself.

“Let go,” you whisper, hoarse and choked. You shake your arms, but he doesn’t let up.

“Tell me what's wrong,” Jungkook pleads, inching closer to you. His breath is warm and he smells like oil, just like he always does. He also smells sweet and floral in a way only a woman could. He smells like Sojin.

You sob, rip your hands away from and scurry blindly towards Jimin, who catches you in his arms despite the shock that paints his face.

Jungkook watches with an expression of hurt, watches you snuggle into the arms of another man over an issue you won’t tell him about. Jimin says nothing, just rubs his palm over your back. He gestures towards the red corvette, the woman standing by it and Jungkook takes the hint.

You hear the kitten-like purr as it pulls off, the silence that follows afterwards. You don’t know where Jungkook is, if he’s here or if he left with her, and you don’t want to. “Tell me he’s gone,” you beg Jimin, quiet gasps against his neck.

He nods, slowly lets you untangle yourself from his arms as the two of you stare over the empty garage. The Corvette is gone, and so is Jungkook. Before Jimin can tell you where he is, you’re wiping a hand over your face, embarrassed at the moisture it comes back with. 

“I take it he’s not supposed to be with her?” Jimin tries to joke. 

Neither of you laugh. 

You sniffle, process what just happened, how you acted. You’ve never felt that way before, never experienced such brutal heartbreak. 

You don’t know what you expected from Jungkook. In your heart, you convinced yourself what happened in your apartment was the start of something new between the two of you, a natural result of your long friendship. Realistically, you know you should’ve waited until the two of you spoke, discussed whatever happens next. But you’d spent the past week comforted by the fact you’d finally gotten to experience something like that with him, daydreaming about him every chance you got. 

Somewhere in your mind, you had convinced yourself your involvement with him would finally be what broke his connection with Sojin, the final nail that would make him forget about her. It’s painfully funny how such wasn’t the case. 

Jimin breaks you out of your thoughts. “You okay to drive home?” He gently inquires, and you turn your gaze over toward your car. 

Did you trust yourself to make it home without shedding a single tear? Absolutely not. But between Sojin and Jimin, you had let enough strangers see you fall apart over a man tonight. 

“Perfectly okay,” you tell him. 

—

The interns pick up on your sour attitude the week that follows. They don’t ask dumb questions, and don’t mess up your order. You talk them through a presentation, show them how to properly organize finance charts. There’s a slide that has clip art, a goofy dollar sign with a smile and shoes. Jungkook put it there when you first made the PowerPoint. After the little lesson, you go to the bathroom and try not to cry.

A week later, and the interns don’t need you anymore. They do well, and your boss praises you for being such a good mentor. You thank him and he lets you go home early.

Home is empty. Jungkook doesn’t show up unannounced, mostly because you’ve changed the number lock on the door. You want to eat salad today, for some reason, but don’t have any of the ingredients for it, so you walk to the supermarket a few blocks away.

The supermarket feels the same as it always does at night. That ghostly feeling of being watched in an empty aisle, the scratchy tune of whatever Top 50 radio station they settled on today. You get there and decide you don’t want salad anymore, so you buy ingredients for a stew instead, all of which you probably had at home.

When you step outside, the air around your bare thighs is cold. Summer was ending, which meant Jungkook’s birthday was coming up. You ball the receipt in your hand and fling it at the trash. You miss, so you hobble over to pick it up.

The trash is beside a red Corvette with two racing stripes.

“Hey,” Sojin says, arms crossed over her chest as she walks up behind you, sizing up your crouched form beside her car. “What’re you doing to my car?”

You breathe in, shake the crumpled up receipt at her, before stuffing it in the garbage. She says nothing as you stalk by her, and you’re back on the main road when she pulls up next to you, window rolled down to speak to you. “Get in,” she gestures, “it’s gonna rain.”

“No,” you say, and a fat raindrop falls right on your nose.

The door unlocks and you climb in, plastic bags crowded by your feet.

The drive is silent. You only live a few minutes from the store, and you point out an empty spot by the sidewalk for her to pull up to. A dry thanks is on the tip of your tongue, but you never get to say it.

“My dad has cancer,” Sojin says.

“That sucks,” you respond, feel bad right away and say, “I’m sorry.”

Sojin doesn’t seem bothered by it, shifting the Corvette out of drive and cutting the engine. “He’s probably not gonna see Christmas,” she adds, and you don’t know what to say. You don’t care about her or her crazy father.  “I wanted to do something nice for him before he, y’know.”

“Died,” you fill, and at that she glares.

“Yeah,” she huffs. “Before he died. So I fixed up his car. But the place I took it to didn’t know how to fix an engine so old, and ended up fucking it up even more.” You nod, she continues. “Then I bumped into Jungkook and—“

“Took advantage of his kindness,” you finish, remembering the twinkle in his eyes when he’d told you about their encounter, that day in the empty garage that seemed lightyears away. “Well congrats. Hope your dad liked it,” you sigh, push open the door and get soaked to the bone immediately.

“Wait!” Sojin calls, hopping out after you. She’s still as beautiful as she was when you were seventeen, even with rain soaking her entire being. “I didn’t ask him to repaint it, but that’s what my dad loved the most.”

You want to go inside, make your stew, and cry in it.

Sojin doesn’t seem bothered by the bangs that stick to her forehead or the water that washes down her spine. “When I told him Jungkook did it… he wanted to see him. Apologize and stuff.”

You snort. “Apologize,” you repeat, tightening your grip on your shoppings bags. “For what, Sojin? For almost killing him with this car or for treating him like shit for five years?” She says nothing, stares at the hood of the car like she doesn’t know what you’re talking about. “He was crazy for you, you know that? He would have done anything for you and not once did you stand up to your dad for him. You let that man call him worthless, stupid, a waste of space. And for what? For you to break up with him for some rich asshole who would never treat you half as good as Jungkook did?” You sneer.

The rain feels cold and your groceries feel heavier, so you whirl on your heel and make for your building entrance.

“He never liked me,” Sojin calls out, and you wonder if she even heard the second half of your emotional outburst. You turn to face her with fire in your eyes, and are only a little surprised at the sadness that paints hers. “He never liked me the way he said he did.” You could knock her teeth out.

“You’re stupid,” you spit, and she rounds the car at an insane speed until she’s glaring down at you over her perfectly sculpted nose.

“He never liked me,” Sojin repeats angrily. “He was always busy looking at you—for approval, for attention, I don’t fucking know. He would hold me and touch me but it never felt real. It always felt like practice for him…” she sniffles and your breath hitches in your throat. “We dated all through college,” she says like you don’t know, like you didn’t stress about it for years. “Everyday closer to graduation felt like a ticking bomb. Like he was just waiting for you to come back. To come home.”

You remember it.

The excited texts he’d send you everyday, the plans he made for you. Jungkook was more excited than your parents about you coming home. The five hours had done a number on him, and after four years all he wanted was to have you close again. You remember the hug in his driveway, the way his mom had told you he’d waited all day for you. It’s weird hearing it from Sojin.

Too overwhelmed, you decide to deflect. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you murmur, and you’re surprised she hears it over the pouring rain.

A loud scoff. “You’re stupid,” she repeats back, jabbing a finger at your chest. You glare, and so does she. Like two animals in a cage you size each other up. “You’re stupid and ugly and I hate you,” she spits, and you drop your shopping bags to lunge at her.

You don’t swing, just grab her by the shirt and move to slam her against the wall, but she’s tall and a little strong, bony fingers wrapping around your wrists like spiders. “Why can’t you see how much he likes you?” She screams, like it hurts to admit it. “He’s been in love with you since forever, and all you’ve ever done is run away!”

“I never—“ you gasp, pushing her away from you. Sojin stumbles, but she doesn’t fall. “I’ve never run away,” you defend, heart beating in your chest too fast to be normal. “Some of us have careers and lives we want to live—I don’t want to depend on a man for the rest of my life!”

She growls, tugs at her wet hair like you’re giving her a headache. Stomping up to you once more, she pushes you hard with both hands, and you barely catch yourself in time. “He would have followed you to that fucking fancy school, but you told him it was better to save money here! Told him to not waste his time and just settle there! You did this to us—to all of us!”

You choke. Lightning flashes behind her, and for a moment all you can see is your gentle prodding, sitting behind him as he filled out applications, big wannabe business brain telling him the easiest way to save money for his auto shop was by going straight into technical school. The small frown on his face that day you’d packed for college, and the way he’d stood in your parent’s driveway until you couldn’t see him anymore, a little spec in your rearview mirror.

Sojin, sensing she’s made her point, says nothing. She scoops up your fallen grocery bags and shoves them into your trembling hands, stomping back to her car and pulling off with a roar, loud and ferocious, and nothing like a kitten.

The groceries in your bag end up in the trash.

—

Taehyung invites you to lunch one day, and you go. You’re starving and desperate to get away from work, where you’re paranoid everyone knows there’s something wrong with you. You meet up at a cute little bistro, and he smiles and hugs you when you arrive. You sit in comfort for all of two seconds before he jumps into his interrogation.

“What’s going on with you and Kook?” He asks, casually flipping through the menu. Your hand stills around your glass of water, and you eventually set it down without ever taking a drink. Your mind instinctively maps out a lie, but Taehyung has known you a while now, knows the quirk of your lips when you’re about to lie your ass off. “Don’t lie to me. I haven’t seen you at the shop in almost a month. And he doesn’t go out,” he mentions. “I think he spent four nights at the shop before I made him go home.”

You deflate.

Too embarrassed to explain, you flip through your own menu, and when the waitress comes you order the first words your eyes focus on. Taehyung doesn’t push you, just patiently gazes out over the bustling street.

Finally, you break. “We… did a thing.”

“Uh huh,” he nods, reading some ad on the side of a bus that passes by. “Need you to elaborate, babe.”

You squirm. “We… fooled around,” you say for lack of more appropriate wording. There’s a family sitting beside you, and you’d rather die than let some nooby pre-teen listen to the details of yours and Jungkook’s night.

“You fucked?” You choke, make a loud sputtering noise like it’ll drown out Taehyung’s voice to the other patrons. “What’s wrong with that? We all knew it’d happen sooner or later,” he shrugs.

“No,” you seethe. “We didn—I didn’t.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, the same way Sojin did that day on the sidewalk. You almost throw your glass of water at him. “We…” you sigh. “We did a thing, and then the week after he went out with Sojin.”

Taehyung scowls at the mere mention of her, so the glass of water is returned to its coaster. “Really? He went out with her right away? He’s cancelled.”

You nod, rubbing your hands over your face. “He… her dad has cancer and is literally on his deathbed so she wanted to fix up his car for memories sake, which he loved, so he wanted to apologize to Kook and thank him for fixing up his car,” you rush out, and now Taehyung chokes, water spewing out of his nose. You shriek, drawing everyone’s attention as you pat down your soaked blouse. “Tae!”

“I’m sorry,” he cries, wiping at the sting in his nose. “He-she, what?!” You ignore him, focus on battling the damp spot on your blazer. “God, that’s crazy,” Taehyung snorts, winces at the feeling in his nose.

After the two of you have settled, the manager kicks you out for your inappropriate conversations and childish behavior. You leave with your tails tucked between your legs. Taehyung holds your hand as he walks you back to your workplace, you quietly fill him in on all the other details surrounding yours and Jungkook’s fallout, from your breakdown in the garage to your weirdly dramatic confrontation with Sojin. “Well,” he claps, slamming a hand down on the traffic light button, even though both of you know it doesn’t work. “That explains a lot of things.”

“Yeah,” you agree, pushing down the crosswalk when the light finally changes of its own accord. “Do you,” you pause, feet glued to the sidewalk. “Do you think she was right?”

Taehyung glances back at you, so small and unsure in the midst of a bustling crowd. He smiles, sweet and soft. Rare coming from him. His free hand ruffles the top of your head, and he brings you into his chest. “Babe, the hottest guy in your grade was intimidated by scrawny, pre-muscle bunny Jungkook. I’m pretty sure he feels some type of way towards you.”

Your lip wobbles dangerously, and you bite down on it to stop. Taehyung pats your head, barks at some old guy when he yells at the two of you for standing in the middle of the sidewalk.

When you’re outside your office, you speak again. “You were not the hottest guy in our grade, by the way.”

Taehyung snorts. “I totally was.”

—

You hideout for the rest of the week.

On Friday night, you finally have the balls to show yourself again, and you hop on the highway leading out of the city before you can overthink it. The buildings slowly melt away, replaced with cozier homes, tinier shops, and by the time you’re pulling up the street, you’re deep in doubt again.

It’s not that late yet, only a little past sunset, but the garage doors, usually open to the street, are all shut. You frown, pull around the block, reverse into a spot across the street. Locking your car, a gust of wind nearly trips you as you cross the street. The front office is dark, metal shutters pulled over the entrance.

Eventually, you stumble around until you find the tiny backdoor squeezed beside some dumpsters, grateful for the key Jungkook had given you so long ago.

Just as Taehyung predicted, a pair of red jumpsuit clad feet stick out from beneath a car. A nice car, an even older Corvette than Sojin’s dad’s, still shiny despite the model it is. It looks like a show car with the way it glints at you, black paint almost glossy. The only light in the entire garage is a lamp, positioned over the area where the legs are working, and a flashlight that occasionally beams at you when the holder loses his grip. No music today, just the hum of a rotating fan. You creep over.

Jungkook’s humming a song when you get to him, foot tapping idly on the ground. You suck in a deep breath and nudge his foot with the tip of your heel. You have exactly two seconds to jump away when he abruptly rolls out from beneath the car, concentrated features scanning quickly around until they land on you.

The garage is still, until Jungkook jumps into action. “___,” he stammers, stumbling to his feet. The rolling board drifts away, bumping into the corner of the metal table beside you. “Hi, um,” he flounders, brushing his fingers through his hair, palms wiping over the front of his pants. Finally, “hi.”

The bad bitch Chanel skirt-suit you’d worn today fails you for the first time in a long time. Your hands feel sweaty, so you clutch them behind your back. “Hi, Jungkook,” you exhale, and all the emotions you’d swallowed for so long, the feelings that tightened around your chest and throat like boa constrictors, come oozing out, until all you can see is his puckered mouth and twinkling gaze.

He coughs, tries to casually lean against the car, but greatly miscalculates the distance. “What, um, what brings you here?” He asks, foot tapping nervously against the ground.

There’s a box of takeout on the floor he tries to subtly kick beneath the car, and a plastic bottle of soda that makes a loud noise when he tries that too. You twist your lips, watching the anxious shuffling of his feet. You breeze over his question, plaster a tight smile into your face, and ask your own question; “how long have you been here?” Tentatively, you lower yourself onto a rolling stool. “It’s late,” you state the obvious.

Jungkook’s leg bounces, and he pats his hand over it nervously. “Um, an hour? Just working on something,” he answers, cheeks warm as his eyes flicker everywhere but you. “What brings you here?” He repeats, and you know you can’t deflect it this time.

Shrugging half heartedly, you wait for him to finally look at you. When he does, he almost looks away but the glint in your eye stops him from doing so. “We need to talk,” you finally say. Jungkook visibly deflates, lips pulling into a thin line. You contemplate letting him relieve his thoughts first, but you came here with a point to make, for questions that needed answering, and you’re scared one word from him will wash them all away.

“Listen,” you start, smoothing your hand over the edge of your skirt. “I know something weird happened between us, and then I kinda freaked out on you, but… I need you to tell me the truth.”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate. “Always.”

You swallow, try to push back the frustration that builds in his throat. “Did you ever even like Sojin?”

Jungkook blinks. “Huh?” A snort. “You’re joking,” he snickers, wipes at faux tears in the corner of his eyes, before your unsmiling face registers and he’s schooling his features. “___, I did like her. I dated her for five years. How could I not like her?”He says seriously, like he can’t believe you would ever question such a thing. 

You exhale, pick at your fingernails. “I met her,” you admit, and Jungkook’s face twists in confusion. “At the supermarket last week. She said you never liked her.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Of course she’ll think that—we’re exes. I doubt she remembers all our best memories,” he sighs, turning back to organize his tool cart like he’s done with this conversation.

Raising to your feet you call his name again, and he hums absentmindedly. “Sojin said you never liked her because you were always chasing after me,” you accuse, laying all your cards out on the table. Your claim startles him, and you watch as he jostles half the tool cart with his surprise.

“She, what?” He huffs, cheeks as red as his jumpsuit. He forces out a laugh, airy and tight like you’re starring in your elementary school play again and the nerves are eating him up. “I-I don’t know why she’d say that.”

He’s flustered, obviously so, as he scoops the metal tools back onto the cart, bumping into three other things before settling back down on the floor to roll under the car. He pushes himself under, and you sternly call out, “Jungkook.” He freezes.

You strut over, brush your hands behind your skirt as you crouch beside him. “Always,” you quietly remind him. Jungkook says nothing. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve grossly misread the situation, if this was just another one of her schemes to drive the two of you apart.

Slowly, Jungkook appears from under the car. There’s a new stain on his cheekbone, brown and slick. He sits up, wide eyes tracing over your features likes he’s trying to seal them in his memory. “Yeah,” he admits, lips twisting as he watches the surprise take your features, before he’s lolling his head back to stare at the ceiling, leaving you to stare at the column of his neck.

“I do,” Jungkook admits, pushing through his emotions. It’s hard for him to confess, you realize, watching the way his Adam’s apples contracts and his jaw twitches from having to say so. “I like you so much it hurts.”

His confession leaves you feeling weird. On one hand, you want nothing more than to spring yourself on him and kiss his face until the stray oil marks are gone and replaced with the outline of your lipstick prints. You want to smother him and hold him, let him know he’s yours, always has been.

On the other hand… it’s sad. Going on thirty years and never did the two of you guess your feelings for each other. You doubt either of you are good at hiding them, with the way everyone seems to have known except you two. Maybe you don’t know Jungkook as well as you thought you did. Maybe he doesn’t know you.

A hand touches your knee, and you return your attention to his downtrodden appearance, chin tucked against his chest. “Please,” he murmurs. “Say something.”

You say nothing.

Tentatively, you reach a hand out, run it along the side of his head, through his mane, chocolate waves touching his cheekbones. He almost looks like when you guys were kids, round eyes watching your every move. Your hand continues down the back of his head, cupping the nape of his neck comfortingly. Jungkook leans into the touch, even though his shoulders are tense. You soothe your fingers over the tight muscles in his neck.

“Since when?” You inquire.

Jungkook blinks, lets your palm trace along his jawline and cup his cheek. “Since you dated Taehyung when we were sixteen.”

Mentally, you curse every deity in existence for putting Kim Taehyung in your life. “God,” you groan, burrowing your hands in your palms. Jungkook, surprised by your reaction, rolls closer, moves around until you’re crouched between his long legs. “Since me and that pinhead dated for twenty minutes?” You repeat.

Jungkook shifts closer, rubs your back. “It was 65 hours, actually,” he corrects, and the exact duration of your relationship makes you cringe. “I… counted.”

Small and shy, almost embarrassed. You glance back up at him. “Why?” You prod, and Jungkook’s cheek flush, palm stilling.

“Uh,” he starts. “I was nervous? That you two were in it for the long run. And I, I don’t know. It was easier to just count,” he lamely finishes, and his dangly earring whips around with him when he avidly avoids your gaze.

You sigh, catch his hand in yours. “Tae and I would have never lasted,” you tell him, remembering all the times the guy made you pick him up from one night stands in the last few years. “He wasn’t who I wanted.”

His foot jumps, toe tapping against the wheel of the car next to you. He wants to ask, you know he does, but Jungkook was quite possibly the only other person on this planet who could overthink something more than you.

Deciding to ease his worries, you give his hand a squeeze. “It was you,” you confess, feel like an elephant lands straight on your chest. “It is you,” you correct.

His forehead knocks against yours, hard, and you hiss at the bump that probably forms. “What the fu—“

“Tell me it’s not temporary,” Jungkook pleads, eyes crinkled in worry. You’re going cross eyed from trying to look at him like this, so you flit your eyes off somewhere to the side. His hand is heavy in yours. “Tell me you’re not just doing this for closure, or because you want to see what it would have been like, please,” he begs, “that would be so fucked up, because I’m so in love with you I actually think I might die.”

The dramatic confession makes you painfully warm. You nod, your lower lip trembling at the way he looks at you, like you single-handedly controlled this entire world with a flick of your wrist. “I-I love you too,” you parrot back, the first time you’ve ever said it, the millionth time you’ve ever thought it.

Jungkook visibly relaxes, pulls away from you to drop his head on your shoulder instead. Your legs are starting to cramp from the tight crouching position, ankles wobbly in your heels. His hair smells good still, despite the hours he’s probably spent beneath a car, and you gingerly pat the back of his head.

“I love you,” he murmurs, and you repeat it. “I love you,” he says again, and you repeat it. “I lov—“

“Me, yes, I’ve heard,” you cut him off, smile at the snort he releases, and when he turns his head, his lips brush against your neck. You’re instantly thrown back a few weeks, to that night on the couch with the limited edition Shrek 2 cups and the wine; the gentle touches that left you trembling for weeks. You inhale quickly, grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing him away.

His eyes are too soft, face too relaxed as he stares at you. “My legs hurt,” you tell him, quickly getting up. You whirl around, facing the car and digging through your purse like you suddenly have something to do.

“Oh,” you gasp, watch two arms wind around your waist, the dirty red jumpsuit contrasting against the tweed material of your high-end Chanel jacket. Jungkook sighs lovingly by your ear, snuggles his face into your neck. “W-we should go out,” you blurt, nerves jumping when he squeezes tighter, burrows closer. “To celebrate!”

Jungkook hums. “Yeah?” His voice is too low. You’re in trouble. “Celebrate what?”

You squirm, breath catching in your throat when he presses you closer against the hood of the car. “Um,” you shakily exhale, hands splaying out over the sleek surface of the black hood to steady yourself. It’s so shiny you can almost see your reflection. “U-Us!” You finally manage to exclaim.

A kiss against the side of your neck, and your spirit just about exits your body. Your knees feel weak, and you're just about ready to throw another mediocre excuse his way, when something warm and wet traces up the column of your neck. “Kook!” You gasp.

“Shh,” he murmurs, deep voice instantly soothing over your nerves. His hips nudge against your behind, and you jump at the bulge that presses against your lower back. One hand unwraps from around you, gliding down your arm sensually until he’s trapping your fingers on the hood of the car with his own. A swift kiss against your ear. “You owe me, remember?”

You flush, remember the filthy promises your list-addled brain has spewed that night at your house, the almost erratic development of your thoughts as you became consumed in the thought of him. Reminisce on the prod of his fingers against your cunt, his hot breath against your ear.

Suddenly, Jungkook whirls you around, traps you with his gaze as two hands flutter to rest on the small of your back. He’s looking down at you with those lovesick eyes, hooded with lust as they trace over the dip of your Cupid’s bow. “You’ll do that for me, won’t you?” A soft brush of his mouth against yours, pouty lips guiding you through a kiss, until you’re sighing against him, and he’s pulling away.

Numbly, you nod, almost hypnotized by the soft smirk that overtakes his features as he pushes you down, watches you sink to your knees before him. The concrete feels cold and hard beneath your knees. His jumpsuit is knotted around his waist, and you shakily unravel it, the elastic waistband staring you in the face afterwards.

“Take your time,” Jungkook croons, hand coming to rest on the side of your face, knuckles brushing over your skin delicately.

You tug it down, and one flash of that underwear band has your nerves flying out the window. You shove his t-shirt out of the way, let your hands trail over the ridges of his abdomen in your haste. He helps you by tugging it over his head. With that gone, his black boxers stare you in the face, and you yank those down with no hesitation.

“Jesus, baby,” Jungkook chuckles, though it’s choked off when you grasp his engorged cock in his hand. You should be surprised, marveling at the sight, considering it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him like this. But you brain is working overtime, too immersed in the vein that runs alongside it and the tip that throbs back at you. Later you can worship it, you think. Right now, you needed it down your throat.

The tip is flaming and swollen, his cock still growing plump in your hold, your hands slowly dragging up and down the length. You lean forward, press a gentle kiss below the mushroom head, trail kisses down the length until you're meeting your knuckles, and trail them back again. Jungkook sucks in a tight breath, leans to rest his palms on the car behind you, as he watches you on him.

A head of precum escapes, and you lunge for it, swirl your tongue in and around the slit on his cock, until his entire body tenses up. “Fuck,” he grunts, watches you ease his cock into your mouth. You groan at the stretch, the drag against the corners of your lips making your eyes roll backwards. “___, baby, a little more?” He asks, voice hoarse as he watches you sink down further on his cock.

You comply, close your eyes and focus on relaxing your throat. There’s a hand on the back of your head, impatiently pushing you down his length. “Shit,” he cries, unconsciously ruts against you. You gag, and he shushes you with a caress against your cheek. “Sorry,” he huffs, “just a little more for me, okay?”

Eyes squeezed shut tightly, you let him push you down until his cock hits the back of your throat and you can’t take anymore. The prod against your throat has tears springing to your eyes. “Gonna move now,” Jungkook announces, thumb brushing away the tears that collect in the corners. “Be good.”

He drags himself out, your saliva coating every inch of him, and when just the tip is resting on your tongue, he shoves back in. You whimper, palms digging into his thighs. Jungkook brushes a hand down your hair, soothes you for all of two seconds before he’s pulling out and doing it all over again. He picks up the pace, loses himself in the feeling of your hot mouth around him, tongue dragging over his cock.

The feeling in your throat burns, each thrust of his hips against your mouth making your jaw more and more sore. But god, it feels good to have him so close, his scent swarming your sense, groans like music to your ears. You want to please him, want him to feel as good as you did at your place. You want it even more now that you know how he feels, know he’s probably thought about this before.

A brutal thrust has you gagging, throat contracting around his length. “Shh,” Jungkook sighs, the fingers buried in your hair flattening out to run over your head. “Doing so good for me, beautiful.”

You bask in the praise, let a hand flutter down to the apex of your thighs, pressing down to relieve some of the pressure. Jungkook groans, rolls his hips against you and keeps you there for a second. Your throat spasms, his dick pressed hotly against it, and you feel your panties grow embarrassingly sticky. Eventually, he draws back out.

“You like this?” He hums, rutting against you faster now, nose brushing against the sparse hairs on his pelvis with every slam of his hips. You nod around a gag, eyes clouding with tears, lips slippery with saliva and precum. One particular thrust is so hard, it nearly sends you knocking back into the car, Jungkook’s hand on the back of your head barely saving you. “Fucking hell,” he spits, “look so pretty with my cock shoved down your throat, princess.”

You moan around him, feel a subtle twitch against your tongue before he’s pulling himself out. “Shit,” he cursed, pushing you away as he goes to grab his own dick in his hand, tugging at it like a madman. “Wh-Where?” He asks, and you stare dumbly at the sight of him playing with himself, almost don’t realize he’s asking you a question.

You take too long, scramble for words too long, and even if you did have one your throat is far too sensitive yo answer. Jungkook grows impatient. Pulling you closer by the collar of your Chanel suit jacket, tugging it open until the flimsy buttons snap, and the tank top you wore beneath comes into view. He aims the tip of his cock towards your sternum, and a few jacks later, he’s coming, cum spurting against your chest. You watch the cum trail down between the valley of your breasts, until the feeling comes to rest against the inside wire of your bra, sticky and gross, sliding along the underside of your boobs. “Shit,” Jungkook repeats, eyes furrowed over you.

Your knees ache, and you nearly trip when you stand up, steadying yourself against the side of the car. Jungkook seems to regain his sense by then, hand trailing around your waist. You meet his eye, and almost immediately turn away, the blood in your face rapidly rising.

Jungkook laughs. “Don’t get shy on me now,” he teases, gets too close and your noses bump. “Sorry,” he smiles, too shiny and bright for the sinful acts you just committed in an auto shop.

“Put your dick away,” you huff, let him nuzzle closer to you, and when he doesn’t move to tuck himself into his pants, you go do it for him.

Jungkook frowns, swats your hand away. “This dick has places to be,” he informs you, and you scoff.

“Refractory period,” you remind him, and he rolls his eyes.

“Well I’m not exactly gonna stick it in you this instant,” he drawls. “Gotta stretch you out first.”

You go to complain, tell him he doesn’t have to over exert himself. Truthfully, with Jungkook you feel like one good session was enough to sustain you for weeks. After last time, your skin had flowed for an entire week. But then his hand is slithering up your backside, sneaking under your skirt to grab a handful of your ass.

There’s quickly drying drool collecting at the corners of your mouth, saliva from when he’d fucked your throat just a few moments prior, that he kisses away. His mouth slots over yours, and your heart and pussy both flutter at the kiss.

It’s gentle and sweet for all of ten seconds, his mouth moving against yours until you feel the wet press of his tongue against your bottom lip, tracing along until you open your mouth. He wastes no time shoving his tongue past your lips, letting it dance with yours as he pulls you closer, hands gripping the globes of your ass. You let him lick his way into your mouth, more and more saliva catching in the corners of your mouth until he’s pulling away with a wet pop.

He pulls away, doesn’t stray too far, proud smirk crossing his features at the sight of your slicked lips. “You liked that, didn’t you?”

“Huh?” You ask dumbly, tongue mindlessly swiping over your lips.

Jungkook’s eyes track the movement. “The saliva,” he clarifies. “The spit. You liked it at your place too,” he reminisces, moving in on you again. “Liked watching me slobber and spit all over your body. Isn’t that right, baby?”

You blush, discreetly rub your thighs together. “I-I do,” you admit, willing the warmth of your face away because at this distance he must certainly feel it.

Jungkook nods, doesn’t say anything else as he captures your lips a second time. He doesn’t bother with the gentle prodding anymore, jumping straight into tongue right away. He’s messier, letting his saliva coat your lips and drip down your mouth, and as messy as it is, you love it. You whimper when he pulls away, but gasp when his hand tugs at the hair by the nape of your neck, pulling you back until you’re looking up at him.

“Open,” he murmurs, and you do, tongue pressing against your bottom lip.

It should be disgusting, the rev of his throat, the sound of his saliva collecting, and the way his jaw shifts when he’s got enough. It should be filthy, the way he shoots it down your open lips, the way it splatters against the back of your throat. It should be gross, but god do you love it. “Swallow,” Jungkook commands, and you do, feel his spit drip down your throat like it’s your own, whimpering at the feeling. A quirk of his lips. “Good girl.”

You have to bite down the pride that grows in your chest.

Jungkook’s hands continue their mapping out of your behind, eventually ending with a hard squeeze that has you squealing. Automatically, your back arches in surprise, breasts pressing against Jungkook’s chest. He smirks down at you.

“Bet you taste good,” he says, pressing a kiss against your cheek. “Let me taste?”

“Please,” you beg, nearly losing your shit when he lifts you up onto the car, the cool metal making you jump, heel on your foot nearly kicking the side view mirror clean off. “Wait, Jungkook,” you sputter, glancing down at the sleek metal. “This is someone’s car.”

Jungkook ignores you, pushes your legs apart to slot himself between them. His palms run up your legs, over your thighs, until they’re toying with the hem of your skirt. Mocha eyes glance up at you, as if daring you to question him again, so you promptly zip your lips shut. The skirt goes, ever so slowly, over your thighs, bunches up at your waist until he’s staring at your lace panties.

He presses a kiss against the inside of your thigh, nose faintly brushing against your skin. The kisses trail over your skin, until he’s hovering over your panties, and he’s staring like a man starved. He gives no warning, suddenly leaning down to press his mouth over your party-clad folds, nose flush against your clit. “Kook!” You squeak, hands flying to clutch at his hair.

Jungkook mouths at you, drags his tongue against your panties until they’re soaked in both your essence and his saliva, just how you like. A hand slithers around your leg, wrapping around until he’s got a firm grip on it that he uses to hold it open.

“J-Just take them off,” you gasp, squirm when his mouth moves towards your clit, lapping against you. “Please,” you cry.

He doesn’t.

Jungkook tortures you with those kitten licks, muted through your panties, until you’re begging him to stop, to take them off and do it right. He loves it, you can tell, dazzling smile peeking up at you every time you tug against his hair, until finally, he’s had enough.

The underwear comes off, dangling uselessly by your ankle, and then the show really begins.

“Wait,” you choke, head falling back against the hood of the car when he finally gets his mouth on you, suctioning his lips around your swollen clit. The niggling reminder that this is some stranger’s car he’s eating you out on rings in your brain, and perhaps that’s what makes it more exciting.

His mouth is warm, tongue flicking over your sensitive bud like it’s candy and he needs the sugar. The sounds are so loud and wet, the squelching of your pussy every time he pulls off a pop that resounds throughout the garage. He pampers your clit for what seems like hours, switching the movements of his tongue every time he gets the chance until you’re quivering.

When you think he’s done, he’s not.

Fingers slide up your thigh, featherlight, as they reach your drenched cunt. They drag over your lips, and you mewl, feeling the muscles jump and tighten at his touches. “Jungkook, please,” you moan, rolling your hips against him, but it’s hard and everytime you move, you feel the sweat on your skin weigh you down, glued to the metal beneath you.

The first finger breaches you, just the tip of his index slowly wiggling inside. You muffle a moan in your palm, and Jungkook pulls away with a huff. “No hiding,” he warns, slowly lowering back to your cunt with a stern glare. You nod, but can’t help it when his second finger pushes its way in and you bite down on your knuckles.

“Oh,” You sob, body quivering as he begins scissoring his two fingers inside you. With your attention focused on the digits sheathed inside you, he pulls away from your clit, bestowing one final kiss against it that has your foot kicking out wildly. “Th-there.” His other hand catches your palm in his, presses it against the metal by your head.

Jungkook smiles, curls his fingers around until he finds the soft spot inside you that turns you to jelly. “There we go, beautiful,” he purrs, pushing himself to his full height, leaning over your trembling form. “So sweet for me,” he sighs, licks his lips like he’s remembering your taste.

“I'm gonna,” you choke, become hypnotized by the dark cloud in his gaze, the arrogant smirk on his lips. He curls his fingers, palm brushing against your abandoned clit. The touch makes you jump, nerves tingling.

“Cum for me,” he encourages, silky tone swarming your head as your pleasure slowly washes over you. It’s probably the most relaxed orgasm you’ve had in your entire life, his low voice and delighted eyes guiding you through it, until your entire body clenches, dissolving in a puddle of contentment. Your arousal surges around his fingers, trickling down onto the metal.

“Oh, Jungkook,” you pant, overwhelmed from the touches and the kisses. Jungkook’s smile gets swallowed by your greedy mouth, desperate for more kisses now that he’s made you feel like this.

The kisses only placate him for so long, and when he presses his body against yours, there’s an awfully hard cock that slides against your dripping cunt. “Think you can go again, gorgeous?” He murmurs against your jaw, nipping at the skin on the way down. You nod, eyes falling shut at the warmth you feel in your bones.

Jungkook kisses your neck one last time, before leaning back once more to line himself up.

This was a scene straight from your teenage fantasies, a dripping, shirtless Jungkook at full mast between your thighs, looking at you so lovingly. It makes your heart thunder, imagining how long you could have been doing this if you weren’t both so stupid. As if reading your thoughts, Jungkook rubs a palm over your thigh, eyebrow quirked. You nod his concern away, squirm closer until the tip of his cock nudges against your hole.

“Fuck,” Jungkook sighs, moving his hands to your hips as he slowly pushes in. His fingers, bless their intentions, could have never prepared you for the size of Jungkook’s cock, thick and veiny as it pushes inside. You whimper, clawing at the hands on your waist that stop you from impaling yourself on it fully. “Waited so long for this.”

“Then fucking do it,” you beg, nearly pass out when he shoves in harshly at your tone. “J-Jung—“

“I got you, baby,” he assures you, jostles you until you’re flush against his cock, clit brushing against his pelvis. Your back arches, and Jungkook slips his arm around you, the other lingering on your waist.

Every subtle shift has him brushing along your swollen clit, and you sob at the sensation, begging him to move. He complies, changes his stance to make it easier, and finally begins thrusting into your throbbing pussy.

“So good,” he huffs, eyes zeroed in on where the two of you meet. You would have looked too, if your body hadn’t felt so completely boneless beneath him, the grinding of his cock sending shocks of pleasure up your spine. “So pretty and mine.”

“Yours,” you choke, heart swelling in your chest at his words. It’s almost animalistic, the way he ducks down to bite at your neck, like some animal staking its claim, and you like it. You like it because it’s all you ever dreamed of for so long. “Faster, Kook,” you urge, wrapping your arms around him.

He does as you say, slow and careful thrusts transitioning into a fast piston that would have had you bouncing out of his reach if he wasn’t holding you so tightly. “Fuck,” he chokes, lost in the way you clench around him, lips dragging against his cock with each thrust. “Baby,” he grunts, sweat trailing down his temple, eyes furrowed shut. Eventually, his head falls into the crook of your neck, his weight pressing down on you uncomfortably, subtle ridges on the hood making you ache. At this point, you’re too far gone to care. “All I ever wanted,” he gasps.

You could cry, right now and he’d pull out right away, big heart fretting over your emotional well-being. Which is exactly why you hold your emotions in, let yourself get fully immersed in the feeling of Jungkook pounding you against some stranger’s car and not the inevitable emotional crash you’ll have later.

He fucks like he’s waited all his life for this, and you guess he sort of has if what he’s saying is true. You have no doubt it is, and when his lips suck a mark against your neck, you feel like you’re in heaven. “Almost,” you pant, legs wrapping around his waist tightly. Jungkook nods, his hair tickling your jaw and neck, as he picks up the pace. Your cunt swallows him up every single time, suctions him in until he’s shaking, and so are you.

It can only last for so long, your heart and body eventually reaching their peak, and you unravel. His arms are there to catch you, to pick up the pieces and hold you together. You want to cry, you really do, and when the coil in your stomach snaps, you finally do. “I love you,” you sob, and Jungkook shudders, glances at your tear-struck face to push himself off.

“Love you too,” he mumbles, grinds his cock against your spasming folds one last time, and comes mid-thrust, cum spurting inside you. He holds you, just like you knew he would, as you come down from your highs, hot breath fanning across your skin.

You feel warm, loved, and in love, body trembling in sensitivity afterwards. He’s pulled out since, soothingly rubbing a hand against your side. You’d like to say you wouldn’t be anywhere else, but one shift reminds you of where you are.

“Shit,” you groan, taking in your surroundings before letting your head fall back against the hood. Jungkook hums, round eyes looking your way. “We really just confessed and had sex on some stranger’s car.”

Jungkook snorts, leans away just the slightest to look you in the eye. He’s lost in thought, chocolate irises swirling as they drink you in. “Say thanks to Taehyung,” he finally says.

You roll your eyes, and when you shift beneath him, your sweaty skin sticks uncomfortably against the metal hood. “Yeah, let me thank Taehyung for dating me for three days and awakening your crush,” you huff sarcastically, resigning yourself to your new life stuck against the hood of some classic automobile from the 50s. Jungkook laughs, tucks himself back into his underwear. “Thanks Taehyung, for your noble sacrifice ten years ago that allowed me to fuck Jungkook on some stranger’s car—“

Jungkook hums, snuggles closer to you. “Tae’s car.”

“—after confessing our—Taehyung’s car?” You shriek, sitting up with the strength of three football players, Jungkook toppling off you. “Oh my god. No.” Jungkook rubs his elbow where he knocked it against the hood, looks at you with solemn eyes. Slowly, a smirk crawls over his features. “No,” you gasp, mortification crawling up your spine. “We didn’t.”

He tugs you off the car, tugs your skirt down when you wobble on unsteady heels. “Yup,” he says, pops the end of the word like a child. “Say hello to Taehyung’s new car!” He exclaims, patting the hood you just defiled. “Straight from the car auction he went to this morning,” he beams.

“Oh my god,” you groan, covering your face with your hands when you finally spot the puddles of... something on the black hood. “This is terrible.”

Jungkook ignores you, wipes up the mess with some napkins from his takeout bag, but there’s already some that's dried, only fueling your mortification. “Not like he’ll find out,” he shrugs, then narrows his eyes at you. “Or will he?”

“No!” You stutter, carefully rounding the car as if inspecting it for any more signs of the treacherous things you and Jungkook did on or around it. “I-I won’t tell him.”

“Uh huh,” Jungkook teases, settles on that rolling stool and pushes himself towards you. There’s a hand easing itself around your waist, tugging you between open legs. Still in shock, your hands flutter around his neck, muscle memory causing you to immediately begin massaging the skin there.

Jungkook sighs into the touch, eyes falling shut. “Too bad Jimin’s not here,” he sighs, and you visibly see his nose grow in arrogance. 

“What? Why should Jimin be here?” You ask, pushing your fingers against the knots in his neck. 

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed, one-eyed glare. He scoffs, “maybe you are as dumb ad Taehyung says.” And then, “hey!” when you tug his ear. He isn’t upset, just tugs you closer until his face is buried against your stomach. “You know country folk like him marry on the spot right?”

“What are you even saying,” you huff, burying your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging his head back to properly look at him. “Why do you care who Jimin marries?” He doesn’t bother answering. 

Instead, Jungkook sighs into the touch, an easygoing smile thrown your way, and for a moment you forget about the trauma Taehyung will have when he inevitably learns about this. “This is the life.”

[silverwarewolf]

happy storyteller saturday!! :D a bit of a silly question this week maybe - how would your main cast go if they got trapped in an elevator together for a lengthy amount of time? would they wait patiently for rescue? cooperate to try and find a way out? dissolve immediately into total chaos? please tell me what shenanigans would ensue c:

Thanks for the ask! I have lost all perception of time

Ohhh this is a fun question! while i enjoy that feeling of what the absolute fuck is going on that elevators give when they move and it's like hmmmmm. I'm also Very Afraid of an elevator malfunction. so let's see how the cast would do.

Ivan - he would try so hard to dissolve the tension. it's not his fault, like visibly not his fault, and yet he's worrying like... no! Let's just wait and we'll be fine! Good vibes! Good vibes in such an insisting manner that you know I'm panicking and stressing!

Gene - as much as i love him. Gene's totally like, the kind of person that knows a bit about something and so he tries to fix it. Like, he knows a bit about plumbing? Well he won't ask for help until his house is flooding. He's not technically stubborn, but he's very independent. He's had to be. So he would be very focused on examining the buttons and... Whatever you can see in an elevator. But it's annoying that he won't let anyone try to call for help because he gets like a stressed feral cat.

Emilia - she's used to things like this. weird gravity feeling? very tense environment? having to put up with a lot of people in crowded spaces? No problem, that's just another ceremony back at the ice kingdoms. much though she hates to remember, she'll be just fine.

Drew - they're so tired and stressed they wouldn't even realize the elevator got stuck. and then they'd just try to keep working until the claustrophobia finally gets to them. cue everyone trying to help them calm down while the elevator is repaired.

(that's when they all realize they probably shouldn't have gone into the weird magic box that they'd never seen before. /jk i know this is in like a modem au)

Alexandro - he's the official caretaker. give drew some water, help gene open the trapdoor thingy to go check what's up, keep everyone from killing one another with their bare hands. and he's completely unfazed, so much so that it's a little unsettling/worrying.

The Queen - her mere presence is a threat to everyone and she is a tiny movement away from being attacked. understandably. but at least her ice powers keep the elevator cool and refreshed, and swimming with a shard of ice keeps her mind at ease.

...

Actually this ask has given me some Ideas. Maybe there ARE elevators powered by magic in this world. Maybe they just didn't realize that they had to open the doors themselves and weren't properly Stuck. But it still fits the situation. (Gene would be Devastated to realize that)

[wispforever]

how about stein for the character thing? btw i love ur soul eater content ♡!!

Yes, please. Give me an excuse to talk about him jesus h christ. This is actually really funny because I've been obsessed with Soul Eater for like nine months now, Stein being at the center of all of it, really, and my first impression of him was something like "oh god with this shit again". When I first met Stein as a character I was still getting into the Soul Eater aesthetic and trying to decide if I was gonna cringe or binge, ya dig? And Stein is BY FAR one of Soul Eater's most unconventional characters as far as design (going by what's considered in the ballpark and going too far in the critical bullshit world of creators). The guy has a fucking bolt through his head for christ sake. Everything he's even marginally associated with has his signature aesthetic literally stitched into it- the building where he works/lives, the rollerchair he skirts around on, his clothes, his soul, even himself. So me, being just another uncultured motherfucker who falls into that "shows have to look a certain way to be good" bullshit, decided upon seeing him, that Stein was too deviantart for someone of my refined taste to ever develop a liking for. Just goes to show what a fickle bitch I really am. I bet I changed my mind in less than 5 minutes. What a great character introduction- wipe out on a chair twice, lie on the ground while you’re threatened by the DWMA, and then fight several children. Let’s not forget the best part “lmao jk i’m gonna be your fucking teacher” legend.

Of course all the automatic superficial thoughts about media we haven’t consumed yet are utter horseshit and actually cringe culture in general is horseshit, so boo to me, one day I’ll learn to stop judging things at face value (probably not). Now, I love Stein, obviously, and the Soul Eater aesthetic is one of the most goddamn iconic anime art styles that exists fight me. You know that whole anime trope like “guess who the main character is” [cut to a scene filled with basic janes and johns, save for the pink-haired, spiky-styled, gay-as-shit motherfucker right smack dab in the center of the screen]? Soul Eater fixes that by making everyone look totally fucking insane. So, moral of the story, I recant all of my shitty opinions that existed for apprroximately 2 entire shitty minutes before I realized what a masterpiece Franken Stein and subsequently Soul Eater is. (Of course there are things I’m critical of, and I could talk about them at length, but that’s not what this post is about)

How am I supposed to pick my favorit moment with Stein. Every fucking moment he’s on screen is fantastic. He’s flyin around in his rollerchair, he’s teasing Spirit, he’s being a teacher who clearly has no formal training, he’s trying not to lose control while being haunted by evil snake lady. What’s not to love? If I had to pick a favorite though, it would probably be a small moment over the bigger ones. Like, the fight scenes? Kickass. I get it. However, how about the time when Stein lies, throws on a fake smile to comfort Maka after he operates on Soul? How about when he’s sitting on the basketball court watching Spirit almost die because he’s so happy his daughter showed him any positive attention at all, and Stein’s first thought is “I don’t Get that”. How about “you’re just like me; you can’t possibly understand love.” WOW FUCK ME UP. There’s so many scenes that show how alienated Stein feels from the rest of the characters who love and care about him. It shows how he fails to recognize that he IS loveable and IS capable of love, not to mention he loves pretty often and pretty fiercely. However, Stein sees his expression of love and care, as well as just his general self-expression, and rightly notices that it’s different from how others (like Spirit) express themselves.The mistake he makes is that he equates being different with being wrong. This has to do with him being queer and autism-coded. That’s a whole nother meta.

Don’t even ask me about my story ideas for Stein. There’s so many. There’s So much. Most of them are filled with trauma, and ALL of them are gay. I actually just got done writing a fanfic of him and Spirit when they were in the academy. Let me know if that’s something any of you are interested in. I’ve been trying to decide if I should keep it to myself or if I should die of embarassment lmao

I don’t know if I have any “unpopular” opinions about Stein. I don’t pay enough attention to anybody else in the fandom to gauge what people like and what they don’t. I’m just gonna go with the old classic and say that someone somewhere is probably mad that Stein is queer-coded and autism-coded and that I happen to say it out loud. Also there’s probably someone waiting to hop inside my inbox about drawing Stein trans. So yay for being unpopular. Fuck you

Who can guess which of Stein’s relationships is my favorite? Go ahead guess. What can I say, we love when 2 idiots who don’t know how to love learn how to love together. and also they’re gay

I don’t have a lot of headcanons for Stein. That’s partially due to me accepting most of my conjecture as canon because it is either 1. heavily implied, 2. literally indisputable subtext, or 3. technically unable to be disproven. One that I do think of, which is cuter than most of my headcanons, goes like this: So I have this idea that Stein punched that bolt through his head after Spirit left because he no longer had a weapon who could regulate is wavelength. So, when he turns the bolt, it’s to change the shape of his soul and control whatever is going on in there that he doesn’t like. That said, the inverse should be true, that if his soul and the bolt are attached, whenever his wavelength changes dramatically or suddenly, it should cause the bolt to move. So like, what if, when Stein gets really excited or happy or whatever, the bolt turns and settles into place and you can hear the little happy clicks TvT

ANYWAY this post is WAY too long, but I will gladly elaborate on anything I said here, so thanks for the ask and feel free to send more.

[pinkjiminssi]

So.. About That Hickey..

I think I’m still processing all of this and reminding myself I’m not dreaming 🤣 I seriously only got 3 hours of sleep last night and when I woke up the first thing I did was check twitter to be sure this “drunk bridal-style spinning hickey neck biting proudly showing off” moment actually happened!! 

.. I hate the way my brain works though. I was so happy that it took me forever to fall asleep, spent all day on cloud 9 despite being tired, .. and then my old nemesis, anxiety, stepped in. Well kind of. TBH if all of the MOTS ON:E Jikook moments we got happened with Jimin/anyone else or Jungkook/anyone else.. I would seriously be sitting here saying “well fuck.. I believe they WERE a couple, but looking at all of this it seems they are no longer together.” So really, this just confirmed what I already knew about Jimin and Jungkook: they’re a couple. My anxiety is over.. why? Why show us this? If they can cover all of JK’s tattoos, a hickey/bite mark/whatever we’re calling it should be super easy to hide. Sure it was just rehearsal.. but it was rehearsal with cameras rolling with every intention of releasing what was being filmed as future content. It could have (and some might argue should have) been covered.

Guys... I’m confused. And concerned. ❗❗❗ TW for drama, hate, homophobia, the usual anti issues

That “official” explanation.. again.. why? I’m assuming Jimin and Jungkook were asked and allowed to explain because of the chance of it being spotted and armys freaking out, so BH (or possibly even Jikook) thought to get ahead of the speculation by just being up front about it all.. but THAT explanation? I suppose it works for covering up the army panic of “Jungkook has a girlfriend?! *insert fangirl sobbing*” .. but that’s literally all it does (and only barely if you go looking at some of the anti’s reactions to it all). Really, all it did was draw even more attention and speculation. I mean.. this is, essentially, what we were told: Jimin and Jungkook were together the night before drinking, apparently without the other members as they didn’t seem to know all of this already (and they would have if they had been there), somehow hanging out and having drinks turns into Jungkook picking Jimin up bridal style (random but some of the k-army reactions on twitter were translating through google into “princess style” and I just think that’s so cute 🥰), spinning ensues, Jimin gets dizzy and wants Jungkook to put him down, ... and so he proceeds to do the only logical thing that any of us would have done in that situation... biting Jungkook’s neck? And hard enough to leave a mark the next day?? And instead of being peeved about it (like most of us would have been if our friend bit the crap out of us), Jungkook looks happy?? proud even??? 

And they arrived together the next day and continue to be cute and playful? 

I just.. I mean.. come on. First of all.. that’s a hickey. A bite leaves teeth marks. And one would assume a wild, drunken “let me down” chomp would be something that happens suddenly and ends very quickly. I know I for sure would drop someone on their ass if they decided to take a bite out of my neck (assuming I was even picking up and spinning around with one of my friends like that to begin with.. but let’s not even get into why that was going on at this point) .. but the way this bruised? Yeah. There were no teeth involved (at least not hard enough to leave indentations) and this took more than a couple of seconds of mouth-to-neck contact to still be that visible the next day. So.. in short. Jungkook arrives with a hickey, JK decides to not cover it up (or he would have shown up with it hidden and we see him get out of the car that morning with it clearly visible), BH staff sees it and also decides to not have it covered up and actually have it explained... and the explanation is “oh yeah Jimin just bit him, you know.. no big deal hehehe isn’t that funny?” 🤯 WHAT?! Yeah.. that’s totally normal, platonic behavior between adults...

I’m not saying Jimin and Jungkook are lying btw. I have no doubt it played out more or less exactly as they said with the exception of what they’re calling the end result. Jimin and Jungkook are fine.. I mean, what were they supposed to say? They’re not going to show up saying Jimin was sucking on Jungkook’s neck the night before. We’ll probably never know why Jungkook decided to not cover it up before arriving, but it’s his body and he gets to decide. It’s BH that has me so puzzled. Other than antis and people who refuse to see what’s literally right in front of their faces when it comes to Jikook.. who were BH expecting to believe the bite thing? Just among staff and the other members, it’s a laughable but safe “oh of course *wink wink*” explanation that allows everyone to carry on like normal. But to the public who don’t know them personally, don’t know their usual behavior and patterns, and who don’t have something like a non-disclosure agreement or professional courtesy preventing them from openly speculating.. it doesn’t fly. Pretty much everyone teen and up knows what a hickey looks like (either from having gotten/given one or at least seeing one on someone else in person or online). It’s immediately obvious what it is. And even if there was some uncertainty.. that it’s on his neck (instead of other easily accessible and less sensitive/stimulating locations) and just so happens to be right near his mole as it Jimin were aiming for it? Just another “too many coincidences” thing when it comes to Jikook.

Even antis on twitter couldn’t deny what it was and, so, had to resort to the “well I do that with my sibling and my uncle’s pet raccoon all the time it’s just family things” excuse and/or the “yeah well someone ELSE in the group (or a girlfriend) gave him that and they’re just covering by saying it was Jimin.” Oh. And the same old “it’s just fan service” excuse (as if Jungkook would let someone bruise his neck for the purposes of fanservice which, again, BTS has never done or needed to do. Forever pissed off that so many in this fandom act like Jungkook is a puppet doing whatever the “evil company” tells him to do regardless of his personal feelings or boundaries. The man has tattoos covering nearly every inch of his arm despite that being looked down on in Korea. At this point he can do whatever the fuck he wants). So.. why?? Seriously, why? This all could have easily been avoided with simple makeup.

When they’re doing official content they’re all literally followed around by a flurry of staff fixing hair, dabbing sweat, touching up makeup, etc. Even though it was rehearsal, staff were everywhere in the footage that’s made its way online. If they were worried that it would be seen in the background and “taken the wrong way,” just have the staff occasionally touch up the makeup. “Easy peasy lemon squeezy.” But instead of doing the obvious, BH decides to: not cover it, draw attention to it by asking about it and letting them continue to talk about it, go out of their way to get a camera on it, and then include it in the final cut of the content they sent out?

BTS is literally the most popular group in the world right now and BH has become a behemoth of a company that runs like a well-oiled machine. They’re not stupid; this was not a mistake. For some reason they wanted us to see this and, one would assume based on the lack of a more believable explanation, they wanted us to come to the conclusion that we all have: Jimin gave Jungkook a hickey. You know they have teams dedicated to monitoring reactions to content on social media. You know they know the dialog surrounding Rosebowl, Black Swan MMA, the Memories 2020 “almost kiss,” etc. etc. All of this got “jikook,” “hickey” and variations of their names trending for HOURS (in multiple countries and worldwide). 

Out of curiosity, I decided to check the trends at the time of writing this. As of 3 AM CST (about 24 hours AFTER the clips started showing up online), there was still a hashtag trending related to all of this: #FREEJUNGKOOK.. and the tweets being directed toward BH are.. disturbing to say the least:

While I agree that the boys should trend more often based on their talents and music.. what’s going on right now is a homophobic 💩 show accusing BH of “scripting” interactions (rather than.. you know.. Jungkook interacting with whoever he wants however he wants.. the usual “mindless puppet JK” narrative), trying to coordinate the mass sending of angry emails, trying to get people to stop buying paid content, accusing BH of taking advantage of the members.. I mean it goes on and on. And BH know what’s going on right now. They’re seeing the reactions... the good and the extremely negative. And still they let this out. And this is all not even CONSIDERING the mountain of other moments that made the cut on MOTS ON:E. 

(side note, the above pic just oozes happiness and it’s so cute I love it!! 😭)

So.. even though I’ve said it dozens of times already... WHY? W H Y? I’m an anxious person by nature and not very trusting. I believe Jimin and Jungkook and I don’t think they’ve been lying and pretending for “fanservice” all of these years. I respect them both too much as individuals and artists to believe that they would stoop to such tactics just to generate a little more “interest” and revenue. I’m suspicious of BH. BTS doesn’t need fanservice to get attention; literally all of 2020 and 2021 so far has proven that beyond a doubt. Even if they suddenly made the decision to do fs.. why not go with the most popular ship (taekook) or at least one that isn’t so hotly debated on social media (remove Jimin, Jungkook and Tae from the equation and you still have four members to “play” with who have much less potential to have fs devolve into a toxic crap show all over the internet). Showing us this will do nothing to help BTS as a group or Jimin and Jungkook at this point. In fact.. all it can do is hurt. Hurt BH, hurt the group, and hurt the individual members, heck.. even potentially hurt other BH/HYBE groups. I’ve already seen people on twitter saying they’re “done” spending money on anything BH or BTS puts out because they’re “sick of jikook in their faces and just two of the seven hogging all of the screen time.” Whether or not that “spending freeze” actually materializes into anything noticeable remains to be seen of course.. but the threat is there and always has been. What is the motive? And why now? As much as my “hopeless romantic” heart would like to believe they’re preparing us for Jikook to be “out” .. I seriously don’t think that is ever going to happen. Certainly not now at the height of the group’s fame, with them being given Presidential honors and ambassador status, and with military service still looming over them all. And let’s not forget... Korea is NOT a safe place for a queer couple. Letting us see and know what they did through what was released has the potential to put Jimin and Jungkook (and the other members by proxy) in danger. Sure.. BTS has never been hardline rule followers and have been breaking molds and shattering norms from the start, so “officially” having an openly gay couple in the group wouldn’t be impossible.. just... highly highly improbable. Especially right now... and I’m concerned. I don’t want to sound like the creeps I posted a screenshot of above throwing blame at the company. The boys chose to renew their contracts with the for a reason so we have to trust their judgement as a group... but still, I’m worried and I’m questioning what the purpose was here. 

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

So, I always wanted to know a bit more about Wands in the harry potter universe. Given that they are so central to life, it would be nice to have a bit more info.

The wood - we know there's like 4/5 different types of wood they choose, and they're all things they can get in region. Does that imply then that aussie wizards could have wattle, eucalyptus, or other local trees?

What about trees native to the region, JK? TELL ME

How do they choose the tree. Do they have to come from a specific place, or do wandmakers need to wander through magically inclined forests until a branch falls off into their hands, or what?

Is there like commercial plantations of these trees, to feed the constant need for all the children constantly coming into their power?

What does that look like? What are the hazards? Can the place get infested by bad magic or what? Pesticides or no?

So they find the tree, next step? Is it just like 'yes, dibs that branch' and that's it, or do they take the whole tree? What are their conservation policies?

Or do they need to do a spell, or use a ritual or something before/during/after harvesting?

Crafting... how do they know what length and shape to make for each piece of wood? Like, is it like when artists make statues and they can already see what is inside the marble/wood, etc.? Or do they just make as many randomly shaped wands as they can for each one... is there a magial equivalent of a lathe? Or is this all by hand?

How do they choose designs, assuming the wand isn't calling out to them? Like, some are delicately patterned, and the elder wand was straight up a**l beads???

Are there variations based on the shop, the wandmaker and the region?

The core - apart from the main question of how they get the core in there (drill a hole and slip it in? make it into a potion and soak the wand? lay it on the crafted wand and it disappears in a show of magic?), and if this is done before or after the wand is shaped... You have to think it's a little fucked up the way they go about it, right?

Standards are like, Unicorn hair, Phoenix Feathers (Rare) and Dragon Heartstring, right?

Well how the fuck do they get these things without unethical commerical farming? Unicorn hair is easy enough, you have a herd of them on a ranch protected from bad guys or whatever (and centaurs are lobbying against it bc what the fuck magical people) and most of the strands can be picked up from where they catch / fall out by fences, in the paddock, in the barn at night, etc

But what if they just pluck them. I mean, there are places that live-pluck birds for the feathers, which is fucked up, and we know magical people see any magical creature or half-human as lesser...

Assuming things are totally ethical, best case is that the unicorns lose a bit of mane or tail hair every so often and it is sourced from the field. Worst case, they are trapped in stalls all day every day and shaved beyond acceptable (look up horse tails, it's not all hair) to the detriment of the animals...

Ideally, but more impracticably, the wandmakers could wander through the forest and meet at a certain place with wild herds. They bring the carrots, the unicorns hand over a few strands once a year...

\I know unicorn cores are meant to be harder to turn to the dark arts but like... what if the unicorns are upset, stressed and angry? You'd think that would turn on them, right?

Phoenix Feathers... well they're rare. I think they probs have to get it willingly, or it doesn't work. Wasn't that in the books somewhere? But it wouldn't have to be. I mean, they're an immortal resource... even if you mistreat a phoenix, it cant escape in death.

You just have to wait a bit for it to regrow, and there's probs spells to help speed that up. I mean, look how the world treats chickens (caged), would it be that hard for magical society (with fewer animal oversight committiees and laws) to pull some nonsense...

The dragon cores are the ones that always used to stress me out, as a concept, as a child. Like, there's a LOT of dragon heartstring wands, its common... that implies a lot of dead dragons.

How many hearstrings does the average dragon have, in this universe? Assuming at least four... that's only four wands, maybe eight if they cut them in half and it still works.

So, are they commercially farmed? Is Charlie Weasley complicit in dragon farming with the goal of harvesting the animals for parts? What happened to the dragons from the Triwizard Tournament? Is there a first year with a Special Dragon Heartstring wand?

Also, would they need to prep them specially?

What variations are there, as well? Like these are the main 3, but other countries and places have to have others, or have tried other magical things?

Do you think there are houself ears, or Centaur tendons, or mermaid fins, or kraken tentacles, or niffler claws, or goblin teeth, or redcap blood, in their wands? And it only phased out of common production recently as new protections came in for magical races?

Is there a blackmarket trade for illegal cores and if you have enough it can be 'verified' as a legal core...? There are implications here.

So you have the core, you have the wood, you have the wandmaker who slapped it together and imbued it with magic... you have a wand. Does it do a little sparkle or something when it works?

Are there wands that get to the end of the process and just... fail to work? How do they dispose of them?

Do they put resin or a protective potion/agent on it? They have to last for years, right?

Longevity - So you have a wand your entire life, unless it breaks or it is taken for being a Bad Naughty Little WizardTM... for one, how does the wand choose the person? Even if we slap a 'magic' bandaid on it, there are still more questions about it.

Do you lose your wand if you become impaired? Like, would a magical doctor remove your wand if you got dementia and 'lost capacity'? But then, how would it control your innate magic? The stuff you can do wandless? Off topic.

So you pass away, is your wand typically buried with you? Is it given to a family member? If so, then how does that work because the info the author gave was it was one wand = one person, pick each other etc. Assuming it does bond to that other family member, who is probably young enough to not have their own wand yet... does that mean their perfect wand will never be bought?

If not, what normally occurs? Does the wand get taken by the council Dept of Births, Deaths, Marriages and Magical Incineration to be checked over and reset to 0? Does it get returned to the Wandsmith shoppe who made it, so they can check it is fine to be reused? Does your wand choose another person, who will never know how well it once fit into your hand? The atrocities you committed with it?

How does this system work? Is there magic recycling, or is it all waste...?

Are cores from animals who did not consent at greater risk of turning the bearer evil?

What if your wand breaks... like Ron's did? Like... he had an older relative's wand, so he got a proper wand that matched him. But what if your Perfect Match of a wand is damaged? Why is there no option to have the wand repaired properly...

If humans today would rather die than get a replacement roomba, you have to assume people would be pretty damn attached to their wands... maybe more than usual. Is it about profit? Or can they just not fix it? What are the limitations on fixing a wand, or is it just not considered at all?

Is there... wand insurance?

Like, it feels like there was a lot to talk about...

[morewyckedthanyou]

Fic Writer Questions

My friend @disdaidal didn't actually tag me in this... but I'm doing it anyway because I'm bored out of my mind, alone at home and slightly drunk, lol.

How many works do you have on AO3?

10. I hope to make it 11 sometime soon but who tf knows how soon is soon when we're talking about me.

What’s your total AO3 wordcount?

56 913.

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

On AO3, I have written for 4 fandoms. Led Zeppelin and Queen (yes I read and write RPF among other things, those who don't like that can gtfo), Pacific Rim (lol at the pairing I've written for that one, it's not like I even seriously ship it but when I get an idea I get an idea, it's as simple as that) and 1990 IT-miniseries.

I have written for many other fandoms too but mostly I never finished and published anything. Some of my friends and sis got to see those writings... but not many others.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

(Heart of My) Temple Of Thought (miniseries Reddie, also my first ever Reddie fic. Fix-it fic, because duh.)

Getting Together (my Pacific Rim Newtibal fic - don't you fucking judge me, I had an idea and had to write it down.)

The Great Pretender (my Queen Maylor fic, feat. crossdressing Brian. Enough said.)

Baby Let Me Take You For A Ride (4th part in my miniseries Reddie Heading For The Light-series - it's smutty so of course y'all pervs liked that - jk I love you.)

I love you 'cos you're sweet, I love you 'cos you're naughty (Queen fic, Maylor - more crossdressing Brian and just smut. Kind of a continuation to The Great Pretender)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I do respond to comments. I don't get many, especially these days because I don't write for a fandom that's really big. Ok, what I mean is the IT-fandom is quite big, but not the miniseries part of it, not really. But I greatly enjoy getting comments and I appreciate every single one a lot, so I do always answer, even if it sometimes takes me a while. ❤️

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I don't write angsty endings. I also don't read stuff with an angsty ending. That's simply not what I want to see in fanfiction at all. Keep your sad endings away from me, please.

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve ever written?

I don't. I actually don't really like crossovers in the first place... I might consider writing something like... a crossover between the IT-miniseries and the new films, maybe, because I've read a couple really good fics like that and they worked but... really, crossovers aren't my thing. I've never really seen the appeal.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Surprisingly enough, I haven't. Maybe the fandoms and pairings I've written for have just been small enough to not gain much attention. Or maybe my fics are too boring to get a strong reaction like that? Even if I did receive hate on one of my fics, I would simply just delete it because fuck you that's why.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I've been writing smut since I was like 15 and had no first hand experience about sex at all. When it comes to the fics I have on AO3 though the only kind of smut I've written has been... cock sucking. :'D The WIP I am working on currently also has some proper fucking action though.

And I haaaaave written some other quite kinky stuff just for myself featuring stuff like light bdsm and using sex toys that will never be finished or published anywhere ever but we don't talk about that, lol.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I once got informed that one of my Reddie-fics (can't remember which one... probably the one with smut) had been added by someone to Wattpad. They had not asked my permission for it but I went to look and they had credited me so I was just like 'eh whatever, idgaf'. Then out of curiosity I went to check again a few days later and I couldn't find my fic there anymore so I guess they'd deleted it again anyway. In any case, my writing is not good enough to be stolen, really, and that's that.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope. But if someone wanted to translate anything I've written they'd of course have my full permission to do so!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No. Not sure I could. I've never even rp'd with anyone or anything, I'd be too awkward to try and actually write a fic together with someone. I'm not counting that horrible "Bible-fanfic" I wrote as a joke with one of my friends when we were maybe 13 or 14. Lmao I kinda wish I had a copy of that shit somewhere still, however.

What’s your all time favorite ship?

Impossible question. I have actively shipped things since I was like 13 years old, which means 20 years. I've had so many ships during all these years and so many still mean so much to me for different reasons, even if I don't even participate in the fandom anymore, so it'd be impossible to pick just one, or possibly even top 5!

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

There are so many in so many fandoms... But let me just say... the sequel I had planned for that one Pacific Rim fic of mine. I have probably like... 1000 words written but am I ever going to finish it? Hell no. I mean I really wanted to finish it, once upon a time... but I started it already back in 2015. It's been 6 fucking years, lol. 😂

What are your writing strengths?

I am good at describing emotions and writing about the characters inner feelings, I guess? This is super ironic considering that I am, myself, allergic to feelings in general and never talk about mine hahahahah. Anyway, yeah. My fics usually get real lengthy because I just make everyone overthink everything and go over their emotions a lot. Idk.

What are your writing weaknesses?

See previous answer. Because of that I tend to ramble on needlessly and the plot gets lost because I keep getting distracted and describing emotions and feelings endlessly. Seriously, the amount of times I've had to delete like half of what I've already written because it's just gotten too much and is all over the place and not relevant to anything anymore is just... ugh.

But I am also not really great at doing much research about stuff so I may talk about things in quite a roundabout way in my writing, just to avoid having to go into too much detail if possible.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I personally don't care for it. I saw that a lot in the J-rock fandom back in the days but I never got into it, I just found it pretty annoying even then and haven't really changed my mind.

What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

I was maybe 14 when I first read some of Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles. I didn't even know what fanfiction was back then, but I did write some reeeeeally bad fanfiction about some of the characters... Only in my private notebooks though, and never posted anything online because like I said, I didn't even know about fanfiction's existence back then. And that's great because otherwise Anne Rice could've sued my ass, lol. 😂

But if we talk about fandoms that I actually let other people read my content for, then... Fruits Basket and from my J-rock fandom era, Dir en grey (yes, more RPF). I never actually published any of my Fruits Basket stuff but I did let some friends of mine read it, and I did actually publish some of my Dir en grey-fanfiction. 🙈🙈🙈

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

From the ones in AO3... Oh, fuck, I don't know?

Maybe Friends Will Be Friends, part 3 of my Heading For The Light Reddie-series, because it features Stan and Patty and I remember really enjoying writing it. It's quite domestic and sweet and not really much happens in it plot-wise, but I still really like it a lot!

I'm tagging ALL OF MY WRITER MUTUALS who might enjoy doing this. And please, tag me so I can read your answers, ok? Ok. ☺️

[violetwolfraven]

Hi! For the prompt thing can you do sprace 22 or 28?

We both thought we were a secret but long story short all of our friends know.

and

What if we kissed because we were arguing and I really wanted you to shut up but we both enjoyed it? Lol jk... unless..?

I’m gonna write this in a modern AU cause I haven’t done a lot of that.

...

Race groaned as he flopped down on his little brother’s bed.

Usually, even sharing a room, Race was happy to leave Romeo’s side of the room to Romeo, but today, he needed to talk.

“Well, hello to you, too,” Ro said, looking up from his math homework, “What’s wrong?”

“Who says something’s wrong?”

“You flop on my bed when something’s wrong. Medda ain’t home, but do I need to go get Jack or Crutchie?”

Race could hear their two older brothers playing Mario Kart in the living room. It would be easy for Romeo to call out and have a full-on sibling powwow in here, but...

“No,” he groaned, “I fucked up, Ro. Like, really bad.”

“Given your complete lack of survival instincts and annoyin’ personality, you’s gonna have to be more specific.”

Race reached over to slap his brother’s knee, “I’m serious! I fucked up and I can’t take it back and I don’t know if I can fix this one, like, ever!”

Romeo was silent for a couple seconds before closing his math book altogether and turning to face Race.

“Is anybody dead?”

“What? No.”

“Is anybody physically hurt?”

“No?”

“Is anything on fire?”

“Romeo.”

Romeo shrugged, “If it ain’t one of those three, I don’t see what could be unfixable.”

Race sighed, “Well, this ain’t one of those three, and I’m pretty sure it is.”

“Talk to me, Racer. What is it? You’re scarin’ me.”

Race looked over at the door. If he got up to close it now, Jack and Crutchie would probably hear and guess that the two youngest brothers were keeping a secret. A super fun thing about this family was that they all could be a little nosy, and Race really didn’t want all 3 of his brothers all up in his business this time.

He leaned in close to Romeo, lowering his voice as quiet as he could and still be heard over the sounds of Jack and Crutchie yelling about Mario Kart scores.

“What would you say,” he said nervously, “If I was in an argument with one of our friends?”

“I’d say...” Romeo paused dramatically, “That sounds like you.”

Race gave his brother a shove, “Shut up.”

“Sorry. By all means, continue.”

“Anyway... what would you say if it was gettin’ heated. As in, we were shovin’ each other and almost full-on physical fighting?”

“Hmm. I’m gonna have to go with, I’d say... kinky”

“What the fuck, Ro?”

“I’m sorry. Keep goin’.”

Race sighed, “What would you say if I... kinda... sorta... got pushed up against the wall and he was yellin’ in my face and I just wanted him to shut up so bad so I might have kinda kissed him? And he kinda froze for a second but then he kissed me back?”

“I’d say...” Romeo lowered his voice to a stage-whisper, “It is about damn time you and Spot got over yourselves and just admitted it already.”

“What?! How did you know it was—“ Race lowered his voice, “How’d ya know it was Spot?”

Romeo shrugged, laughing a little, “Race, there’s been a bettin’ pool on how you two would confess your feelings since middle school. The whole friend group is in on it.”

“Oh my God!”

Race had been carrying a torch for Spot since seventh grade, but he’d never told anyone that. He’d assumed no one knew, but...

But apparently all of his friends did. Which meant all 3 of his brothers knew and not one of them had so much as tried to get him to talk about it.

“You absolute bastard,” Race said, completely deadpan, “You didn’t think I needed to know that?”

Romeo laughed, “Telling you woulda been cheatin’! Anyway, spill the deets! Is Spot a good kisser? Does he make you swoon? How did it feel, finally gettin’ your feelings out there?”

Race rolled his eyes, “Please never say ‘spill the deets’ again. And Ro... well, yes, Spot is a good kisser, but we... we didn’t get our feelings out there. I kinda ran away—all the way here—right afterward.”

“Oh,” Romeo’s smile faded, “Well... ya know where he lives. Go to him! Right now!”

“What? No! What if he don’t like me back?”

Romeo rolled his eyes, “Ya said he kissed you back, right?”

“Yeah, but what if that was just a in-the-moment thing?” Race asked, “What if he—“

“Trust me, Racer. Spot likes ya back so much it’s almost too sweet even for me.”

“How do you—“

Romeo rolled his eyes again, “Race, why do ya think we placed bets on not if you would get together, but how? Spot’s been pinin’ after ya since seventh grade. And it’s stupid, cause you’s been pinin’ after him, too, but you’re both too dumb to see it. The whole friend group, we’s all been frustrated as hell with ya for years.”

Race didn’t know how to process that.

“Oh yeah, and Crutchie won the bet. Damn. I owe him ten bucks. Poor Kath bet fifty, though, so... Wow. With everybody’s bets combined, our big brother is gonna be fuckin’ loaded.”

All of this was still making Race’s brain short-circuit.

“What’re ya still doing here? Trust me, he loves you, Racer! So stop mopin’, get Jack to let ya borrow his car, and go get the boy!”

Race got up, stopping only to grab the blue jacket Medda always claimed brought out his eyes, and hesitated before leaving the room.

“Wait... does... does the entire friend group know?”

Romeo laughed, “Even Jojo asked if you was already together within a week of meetin’ us.”

Race left the room so his little brother wouldn’t see his cheeks burning.

“Jack, I’m borrowin’ your car!”

“What? I didn’t say ya could—“

“You always let me borrow your car,” Crutchie pointed out.

“Well, yeah, but you’re not as annoyin’ as Race.”

“He’s borrowin’ it so he can go get Spot!” Romeo hollered.

“Oh my God, seriously?” Jack yelled as Crutchie wolf-whistled.

“Ask Romeo for the details!” Race shouted over his shoulder as he grabbed Jack’s keys off the counter.

“Ro, spill the deets!”

Race rolled his eyes, hearing Jack yell that as he headed out the door.

...

Spot looked completely shocked to see Race outside his house, but he still came out, closing the door behind him.

“What do ya—“

“Our friends know,” Race blurted, unable to hold it back, “Like, all of them.”

“What?”

“Romeo told me they’ve had a bettin’ pool on how we get together since middle school.”

Spot was silent, so Race rambled on.

“Spot, I’s had a crush on you since seventh grade, but I never told ya—I never told anyone, not even my brothers or Albert or anybody—cause I never in a million years thought you might feel the same, and—“

“Are you shitting me?”

Race fell silent.

Spot grabbed his shirt, pointing in his face.

“You had better not be bullshittin’ me, Racetrack Higgins, because I’s had a thing for ya since the first day I met you and now you’re tellin’ me we coulda been a thing since then but we weren’t because we was both too stupid to try and make a damn move.”

“That’s about what happened,” Race confirmed.

Spot let go of his shirt, “Damn.”

His tone was angry, but Race could read him well enough to know that mostly, he was just annoyed.

“I really liked kissin’ you,” Race said awkwardly, “I mean, I ain’t kissed anyone else before, so I don’t know if it was actually good, but I think it was, cause it felt really good, but...”

“I liked it, too,” Spot assured him, “It felt good.”

“Good. Um... do ya want to... do it again?”

Spot looked at the ground, smiling, “Yeah. I do. Just... not here. Not now. I’d prefer to do somethin’ else first. Like... that new superhero movie that came out last week. Ya seen that yet?”

“Nope.”

“Great. Are you free Thursday night?”

Race nodded, his feelings too excited and scrambled for him to respond verbally.

Spot smiled, “Awesome... I guess it’s a date.”

Race nodded again, “I guess it is.”

They stood there, just smiling at each other, for a couple minutes.

“You do know that since all 3 of my brothers are gonna know, all of our friends are gonna know ‘bout us bein’ official by the end of tonight, right?”

Spot rolled his eyes, “Ya think I care?”

“Oh. Okay, good. I mean, we’re all gay to some extent, so it ain’t like they can judge us, so... I don’t care, either.”

“Good.”

Spot seemed to be hesitating on something, so Race didn’t break the silence that followed that.

He was pretty shocked when Spot leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek before going back inside.

If he was still grinning like an idiot when he got home to 3 brothers and an adoptive mother waiting for details, that was totally fine.

[getitinbusan]

Eat • Sleep • Game

A little angst, a little fluff, a lot of smut if you reblog for a part two.

Dedicated to everyone missing the Toronto Show today, see you soon ☹️💜

It had been exactly 1 year and 45 days since you'd fallen head over heels in love with Jungkook. You know this because it was your second day of work at the game store when he came rushing through its door. 

He had broken his game controller and needed one ASAP before his Overwatch team kicked him off. It was a brief first meeting but he'd come in at least once a week since then.

Inviting you to join his team, your friend circle expanded and his roommate Jimin had become your closest confidant. Unlike Jungkook, it had only taken Jimin a few weeks to realize how hard you were crushing on his friend.

Jimin was rummaging through the fridge while balancing his phone between his ear and shoulder. Nodding in Jungkook's direction he kept talking.

"You should definitely wear something really sexy…. I'll ask. JK, Y/N wants to know if you're coming out tonight?" 

Setting his Banana Milk down a smile crept up to his eyes. He'd been crushing on you forever and had finally decided maybe he should make a move.

You'd be there, wearing something sexy AND you were asking about him?

"Yeah, I'll come," he tried to sound casual about it. 

Jimin didn't have to relay the message, you were listening eagerly to hear his answer from the other end.

"He's really coming?

You sighed, "That just means I'm going to walk around pining for him all night. God I love him Jimin"

He laughed at your desperation, "It's going to happen sooner or later, believe me it is mutual." 

Jungkook had gone back to his game but intentionally left the headset off one ear. Listening in, he was trying to piece together your side of the conversation. What? What was mutual?

"I thought that a year ago, how does he not know Jimin? How can I make it any easier? Do I need to just outright say it to him?"  

He put on a seductive voice, "I've wanted to fuck you for the past year and if you make me wait a second longer I'm going to die." 

Jungkook listened on, was Jimin really hitting on you like that? He never discussed his feelings for you with him but he thought it was obvious. His cheeks grew red and heated as the thought of you and Jimin together boiled in his blood. 

"Alright I'll see you soon, come up and we'll have drinks before we go." 

Hanging up he turned to Jungkook, "I'm grabbing a shower, I have a feeling tonight's going to get crazy."

Knocking on the apartment door you let out a huge breath, "here goes nothing."

You'd spent the day talking yourself into finally telling him how you felt.

Jimin opened the door, "Shit Y/N, look at you!" he playfully copped a feel of your ass. 

"Hey Guk!"

Now or never, you walked behind him and put your hand on his shoulder. "How's the game?"

He was distracted, your breasts were right behind his head as you leaned in to watch him play. Your fingers dug in massaging his muscles. His cock was getting hard thinking about how good your grip would feel around it. 

"Watch behind you!"

Brought back to reality you'd snapped him out of his fantasy.

"It's a shame you're going to have to quit, we should leave soon." 

Jimin came out of the kitchen and handed you a beer, "I'm getting you so drunk tonight."

He set one down in front of Jungkook, "Pre game my friend."

"About that...I think I'll just stay home..I'm kind of on a winning streak." 

You pulled your hand away from him in disappointment, all hope lost. Jimin could see you were visibly upset.

"Let's go to my room Y/N, we wouldn't want to distract Jungkook from his game. 

"What the fuck is his problem all of the sudden?"

He pouted at you and kissed your forehead, "His loss sweetheart." 

The Uber showed up about four drinks in. Jimin was already out the door when you turned to look at Jungkook. His gaze was fixed on you but he quickly turned back to the screen as not to be caught.

"Are you sure you don't want to come...I was kind of looking forward to hanging out with you?" 

He stuck his tongue into the side of his cheek, "I'm sure Jimin will show you a good time." 

Pulling the door tight behind you Jimin grabbed your hand, "Fuck him, let's go." 

The club was packed. It was too loud, too hot and Jimin had abandoned you long ago to find a conquest.

The drink in your hand was empty but the lineup to get another was three deep. Your will to have fun had been left back at the apartment so here you stood, miserable. 

Declaring the night a total waste you walked around looking for Jimin. 

You tapped his shoulder until he stopped his makeout session, "I think I'm just going to leave Jimin." 

"Why aren't you in the corner getting fingered by some hot guy?" 

"It must be because I'm so pathetic that nobodies even attempted to talk to me tonight."

You tried to hold back your tears, no crying in the club right?

"Go," you motioned to the dance floor. "Have fun, she's waiting for you."

"I'm not letting you go home, not like this."

He hugged you tightly, "Take my key and go over there and tell him how you feel."

"Jimin, I'm tired of putting myself out there for rejection." 

"Baby, this crush has been going on far too long, you need to find out for sure. You are way too amazing to not have a boyfriend."

You kissed his cheek, "okay I'm going to do it."

His imagination was going wild. He couldn't concentrate on his game and his teammates just kept yelling at him.

He was sure you'd be grinding all over each other, Jimin's stupid puffy lips getting to kiss you.

All the girls went for Jimin, he was just so confident. He decided a couple of loops around the city on his bike and a Ramen stop would help. 

Unlocking the door you expected to see him gaming in the living room but the apartment was quiet. 

Moving up the hall you knocked lightly at his door, "Kookie, can I talk to you?" 

Opening the door a crack you peeked in, empty. Of course he went out, you'd finally mustered your courage to tell him and he was probably eating Ramen somewhere. 

Fuck it, it was happening tonight. He'd have to come home sooner or later and you'd be here waiting in his bed when he did.

It was late, he didn't feel any better.

Putting on a movie he shut off all the lights and sprawled out on the couch. He wasn't going to be able to sleep until he knew if you were coming home with his roommate. 

He must have dozed, the sound of muffled giggles waking him up.

"Shhh, we need to keep it down," kissing, loud kissing more giggles.

"Let's go to my room."

He looked at the clock, 4am. Fuck there was no way he could sleep now. He lit up his monitor and grabbed his headphones. 

You stretched out on the bed taking a minute to remember where you were. One smell of the pillow and it all came back. Of course he didn't come home, fate was never on your side. 

You opened the door quietly not  wanting to wake Jimin. Tiptoeing through the apartment the light from his screen caught your eye, he'd really just been out here playing?

You walked over to stand beside him, was it too late to tell him? 

"Hey," you startled him, "Don't you even go to bed anymore?" 

He clenched his jaw, "I've been having a really good game." 

Here goes…"Jungkook, there's more to life than video games. Sometimes it's nice to enjoy someone's company…"

He shot you a cold look, "I know I could hear you two enjoying each other all night."

His accusation floored you, "And so what if we did?? What the hell do you care Jungkook?"

He went back to his game and you slammed the door. 

"What the fuck was that?" Jimin came out of his room in his boxers.

Jungkook stood to get a drink. 

"Your loud fucking girlfriend leaving." He pushed him out of the way and Jimin laughed. 

"You're jealous? Fuck you're dumber than I thought."

Steering him up the hallway he pointed to the girl passed out in his room.  Flinging Jungkook's bedroom door open he pointed out the messed up sheets.

"Did you sleep here last night?"

Puzzled, he fell silent.

"She was in here waiting for you..all night. Maybe if you weren't so balls deep in overwatch you'd get laid once in a while."

The knock was so light you almost missed it. Track pants, t-shirt, messy bun and bare feet you padded across the room to answer it.  

Looking through the peephole Jungkook stood on the other side. 

You opened the door without a word or smile. "Can I come in?"

You opened it wide and walked away. 

Plopping down on your bean bag chair you picked up your game controller and proceeded to ignore him. 

"Can I play?" 

You shrugged and threw the other controller at him. 

He sat on the floor next to you and set himself up. "Can we talk about last night?" 

"Sure what part? The part where you brushed our plans off or the part where you accused me of fucking Jimin?" 

Taking aim you fired…

"Y/N, What the fuck? We're on the same team."

He grunted in frustration, "The part where you slept in my bed." 

You turned and shot him again.

"Sorry, I just needed a place to crash."

You moved on with your mission.

Recouping he found you in his cross hairs and pulled the trigger.

"Can we just stop playing games?" 

You threw your controller down.

"Fine what the fuck do you want me to say? That I like you? That it fucking hurts to know you prefer to interact with me through a god damn screen?" 

He reached over and shut off the console.

"Move over."

"Jungkook, there is hardly room for two."

He pressed his body onto yours laying you back on the pliant chair. Staring into your eyes before pressing his lips to yours he smiled, "I like you too." 

"This is never going to work you know, we're both way too stubborn." He cut you off with another kiss. 

"I don't know, I think we make a pretty good team, at least when you're not shooting me."

You wrapped your legs around him tightly feeling him hard against you.

"Video games are kind of our thing, what else are we going to do for fun?" 

"Hang on tight." He stood with you still wrapped around him.

"We're going to try a new thing. Where's your bedroom?

[euaxel]

heyyy, eonia. i’m reid, i’m twenty-three, still can’t read, and all i know about pjo is that it fucking rocks and the protag has the same learning disabilities that i do! also, i picked hypnos for this punk mainly to be mean to him and because in the hades game hypnos bullies me every time i die and i’m kiiiinda into it. hmu on discord one on one for the best plotting experience, but i’ll be around plenty to bug y’all in the gc too. you can read about bastard boy number one right here and under the cut we’ll get down to business. 

⟨ ELLIOT FLETCHER. TRANS MALE. HE/HIM. ⟩ though the mist might prevent some from seeing it, AXEL EVERETT is actually a descendent of H Y P N O S. it’s still a question of whether or not the TWENTY-TWO year old VIDEO GAME DEVELOPMENT & COMBAT TACTICS MAJOR from BROOKLYN, USA has taken after their godly parent completely, but the demigod is still known to be quite WITTY & SELF-DEPRICATING.

be advised, axel’s a pretty heavy character.  i’m gonna keep it brief for the bio & need-to-knows, tag around the parts with bold applicable triggers so you can skip around as needed, and tag this post accordingly, but just let me know if i miss anything and i’ll fix it & be safe reading. godspeed and i apologize in advance for bringing you all my personal punching bag as my first muse. 

the main triggers that are gonna come up are: parental abuse, alcoholism * major, mentions of bullying, drowning * major, religious trauma, and drug abuse with some harder drugs ( particularly, weed, pills and cocaine / nothing with needles. )

general stats. 

— full name ,  axel harley everett.  — nicknames/alias ,  axe, ax, wolverine jr, tyler durden jr, trouble, Who? - every professor he’s ever had. — house,  hypnos and mad about it.  — age, 22, as of today. also mad about it.  — gender,  trans male.    — pronouns,  he/him.  — sexual orientation, bisexual with a somewhat heavy masc lean.  — d.o.b, january 1st, 1999. ( generally unknown to anyone but maybe siblings, he will probably lie and say Nobody Knows... I Just Am unless he really fucks with you. ) — hometown,

phys. 

— height,  5′0ft even. furious about it. — eyes,  brown. — hair, brown.  — face claim, elliot fletcher.

misc.

— zodiac,  capricorn. — alignment,  chaotic good. — character inspo,  lip gallagher, steve rogers ( young ), ellie from tlou1, logan howlett, stiles stilinski ( if anyone says shit i will scream ), probably someone from euphoria but i’m too scared to watch that, peter parker ( andrew garfield ), shinsou hitoshi, finn mertens, marceline the vampire queen, dipper pines, this is all over the place but it’s there.  — most played spotify songs, passion for publication by anarbor, sober haha jk unless by hospital bracelet, nobody by mitski, class of 2013 by mitski, king princess’ cover of monster from adventure time, way too much phoebe bridgers, in love or whatever by future teens, and the entire front bottoms discography but especially in sickness & in flames with the hard way & bus beat well at the top of his loop.  — aesthetics,   bloody knuckles, left open and tipped over prescription bottles, walking on the carpet with socks to get that tingly feeling, skateboarding inside, dozing off at the bar, tangled legs in messy sheets, ten pillows on a twin sized mattress, laying down in the shower, brian sella’s cracky singing voice. 

bio. 

— axel was born and raised in brooklyn, new york, and he was claimed at thirteen, on his thirteenth birthday, by hypnos. — the day he was claimed, axel ceased contact with his human mother and his step-dad, and he attended a camp for half-bloods that wasn’t far from home. he spent his adolescence there year round for safety from monsters at home and abroad, then moved on to eonia.  — ( parental abuse tw, drowning tw begin ) i don’t want to be too graphic here so i’m going to plainly say that axel’s mother was a very, very bad person, and the man she married was absent at his best, physically abusive at worst. axel’s powers (  hypnokinesis, namely )  were potent and difficult to control at a young age, and as a deeply religious catholic woman, this scared his mother and influenced most of the animosity in their relationship. she was convinced that the defensive visions he created and his ability to put her to sleep ( an attempt to help her, on his end; insomnia plagued her and later, it would him, too ) were of demonic origin, and tried to drown him more than once; cleansing, she claimed. the worst instance was the day he was claimed, actually — new years day, 2012; his life was saved by hypnos, and that was the last he saw of her.   ( parental abuse tw, drowning tw end. )  —  that said, he’s a little ( very ) hydrophobic. poseidon kids do NOT fucking interact ( i’m kidding. kind of. he Will avoid a little though ) —  anyway! moving on. all of this aside, axel did his best to put his past behind him, and he was actually super stoked to learn that his powers came from somewhere good and that there was places out there for kids like him; to learn he wasn’t any kind of monster. ( still working on believing that, though.. marcelines monster.mp3 right here )  — he’s less stoked when he starts having trouble falling asleep, and really, it feels like a more cruel twist than any other fate has thrown at him ( his upbringing was chock full of mean twists, so that’s saying something ); and really, it’s more like insomnia just full on kicks in, but he can put other people to sleep. great, right? whatever, though — combat classes are kickass and he’s surrounded by babes that think he’s hilarious so things could be totally, way worse.  — ( bullying tw (brief) ) for the most part, axel was pretty well liked among his peers. he was bullied as a young kid (pre-claim), but he bit back and he bit back hard, and sure, some of that followed him into his teen years but he’s more confident by then; less fun to poke at, and absolutely unhinged when provoked, so people learn better of it. the only real lasting effect was one instant that hit him a little too deep in the inferiority, when he was seventeen — he fell in love with a girl, told her that, and found himself at the end of a very mean spirited prank. he shook it off like he did anything else, or at least — he told himself he did, even if the hurt hit him somewhere a little too deep rooted ( ie. being god’s most unlovable son would naturally land him here, right? ) love’s kinda stupid anyways, so what the hell, right?  (bullying tw end.)

— ( alcoholism tw, drug use tw begin ) this is already obscenely long so i’m just going to keep it to the point here and say he began drinking when he was sneaking booze in to camp at fifteen, and it just never stopped there. he’s also a massive stoner, which is all well, harmless and good for the most part; he’s always grinning, half-lidded, and has a room full of smoke at any given time. it’s the pills that do him in, and he did them at first just so he could get some shut eye, and... well. after that, because he’s dependent on them. but he keeps this part under wraps for the most part; it doesn’t have to be anyone’s problem but his, and it’s not a problem until it is one. partying’s fun, so is coke; so is taking a few too many xan’s, mdma.   ( alcoholism tw, drug use tw end )

FUN FACTS!!! 

— i swear he is not as doom and gloom as he sounds from the bio, and yeah, writing that made me so sad i feel like we absolutely must hone in on the fun and cute things about him!?!  — he loves dnd. he can talk about it for HOURS and if you let him, he absolutely will. — adventure time makes him cry. he’s a baby don’t let him fool you.  — very into cryptids, aliens, horror stories, conspiracy theories, in love with ryan from watcher, wanna be shane medej.  — he loves to draw! the one thing he loves about his power is what it’s done for his imagination, and sure, he mostly draws horror things, but it’s why he went into video game development. he wants to be a concept artist.  — his double major is in combat tactics because he loves fighting. he thinks it’s so fun. he’s a little nuts, actually — i mean, get hit in the face and come up grinning. all he’s ever wanted is to run a fight club and be the shortest, baddest little bitch on the planet.  — he tends to nod off in weird places because he doesn’t sleep enough at night, which is sad, but; he can seriously fall asleep anywhere. standing up, in a tree, you name it.  — he’s a hobby musician! he loves singing and playing guitar.  — he’s a huge flirt.  — loves to scare people. he’s harmless, though. like, honestly. he might make you think you’re seeing a walking toadstool but he’ll probably apologize later.  — he’s very much a singing in the shower type?  — clothes thief. friends and significant others beware.  — actually, just kind of a thief? but of weird, little things. like, just the left shoe. puts them in a little corner in his room that he has set up like an exhibit. “things you thought you lost lol” is written on the whiteboard on the wall above it. he likes collecting rocks too. he’s a little freak!!  — he’s better at the memory retrieval part of his power than the rest. naturally, as this mostly applies for other people. 

WANTED CONNECTIONS. im literally so tired of hearing myself talk... 

friends/squad. self explanatory!!!  he’s friendly, a class clown, and a loyal friend through and through; he’s also adaptable, and his demeanor is very relaxed and inviting. he’s probably gonna have 2-3 people that he’s really close with, and he’d do quite literally anything for them. seriously, don’t tempt him.  a best friend.  so this is kind of vague but. i’d really love for him to have one person that is just a tier above the rest? they’d know things about him that are like pulling teeth to find out ( aka, anything deeper than his most recommended podcasts and loudmouth opinions on non important things ), someone who will call him on his shit, and maybe take care of his stupid little self when he gets too fucked up, because they’d be someone he trusts enough to let them.   enemies?    he probably gets along with most people until given a reason not to? but he is a loud mouth and if one of his friends gets into drama, he will stick his nose where it doesn’t belong and he will throw hands, so it could happen.

harmless rivalries. maybe even steamy ones. he’s a little shit and he likes banter so, so, so much? if given the opportunity and if someone rubs him a certain type of way, he’s so not above being a menace, although never super maliciously. just, you know, annoying the shit out of them on purpose, for fun. he’s also not above blowing a few kisses their way.

current hookups. self explanatory too. he’s a little harlot. HFBHVFNJ. it’s gonna be kinda hard to go beyond sex with him because he’s very deep in his own insecurity but he does catch feelings, he’s just mad about it when he does. i’m mostly gonna go off chem for that though! an ex. could be on friendly terms? but, it should be noted that he could’ve ghosted someone too; or pulled from the relationship when things got serious and he couldn’t choke out that ‘i love you’, even if he felt it. worse, if he did choke it out, but they didn’t feel the same way.  siblings. hypnos kids he is gonna be so protective of all of u... family is hard for axel, i’m ngl, but he really wants one is the tragedy of it all, i guess? so he just really wants to be a good brother. he thinks hypnos is kind of a dick for making him but he tries not to fault him for his existence. fuck u dad i dont wanna be alive feels a little unfair. HDBHFDSJ. anyways he’s a good brother even if he is absolutely so reckless and terrifying in regards to himself but his siblings. his siblings he will do anything for. ALSO!!! FOUND FAMILY!!!! it would be kinda nice if he bonded with someone a little older maybe, could be outside of the hypnos house even, someone he’s kind of a bratty-little-brother type with.... or bratty older brother that takes your things and makes you laugh, y’know. 

PERSONALITY.  just tacking this part of the app on at the end too to highlight parts that i think are important for understanding who he is, and just so it’s all in one place!

toothy grins, half-lidded eyes, and keepin’ them laughing is what it’s all about, baby. axel walks with more confidence in his posture than he’s earned ( or claimed, for that matter ), and it’s the backbone of what gets him by. he’s a glowing example of the fake it ‘til you make it mentality, and he knows what he wants, usually how to get it, and doesn’t mind letting you know that. there’s an ever present mischievous glint in his eyes that says more about what to expect from him than he does, and that’s still not much? he likes to have fun, and there isn’t a whole lot of regard for righteousness or responsibility on his end, but hey! it’s usually only ever at his own expense, so what’s the damage? he’s an absolute clown and he knows it.

axel loves people. he does — you might not guess that with how elusive he is, but it’s true. there’s nothing he likes more than a good conversation with someone interesting, or maybe not even then; if there’s a sparkle in you, he’ll see it. ( might even draw it, not that you’d ever know. ) he’s warm, loyal, compassionate, relaxed, and understanding; and none of that is at the cost of being passive, or lacking passion. 

as long as the vibes are right, he’s happy to just be; though, he’s known to have a fuse for certain provocations, and will jump readily at chance to fight in someone else’s honor. also, it’s not unlike him to spar for the sake of sparring; but that’s all in good fun, no worries.

there’s no way to sugarcoat it — axel has an inferiority complex. where that stems from is something he’s more self-aware of than he’s willing to admit, but he doesn’t have the patience or the will to dissect it; much less do anything about it, and he’s as bull-headed as they come — especially regarding anything related to the psyche. how much this impacts his demeanor and relationships with others varies on the situation, but one constant is that he’s going to retreat before things get bad; even if ‘things are getting bad’ exists only as his own paranoia-born hypothetical.

things can’t go bad if you don’t let them, and he’s content to keep it that way; even if it means being stuck in the stasis of missed opportunities. it’s when he’s retreating into himself that he can get irritable, anxious, jumpy; secretive, defensive, even. he’s personable until he isn’t, essentially.

[positivementalaxolotl]

Sand Boy 2.0 (Ripped Out)

Thanks to @gale-of-the-nomads for this fanfic idea and @papyreads for the support! Knowing you're interested is very motivating and uplifting! Also fuck you, Gale because I have other fanfics to be writing and you inspired me to procrastinate those. (Lol jk thanks dude for your permission!) Hope you enjoy! (Warning: Blood and descriptive injury and lots of angst)

------------------------------

Another day, another akuma, another miraculous ladybug and another pound it. Hawkmoth had been very lacking in creativity. He'd been akumitizing so many of the same people, and giving them the same powers, not altering them or anything. I mean, yeah their powers are based off of the victims emotions and trauma, but Hawky could change the power and still fit in, not to mention you'd think there would be more people in Paris going through some real emotional shit that could really make a powerful akuma. Not that Marinette was complaining of coarse. It all made it so much easier to handle being a superhero and a high school student and a bakers assistant and a fashion designer. A nice nights sleep would be sure to help her out in her duties. It was crazy, really. She had gotten so used to everything, it was always Mr. Pigeon, Lady Wi-fi, Miracle Queen, Volpina, all of them. Though in reality there was one she forgot she hadn't seen in a while. She woke up to a panicked text from her parents. She had it so her phone would chime louder if her parents called her or texted her. She was super lucky she did. If she hadn't, she wouldn't have gotten info of an akuma. *Marinette, are you okay?* After that, her father seemed to spam her. *Please answer, Marinette!* And it went on and on until she assured him she was okay and asked why he was so scared all of a sudden. *We got a call that you had been kidnapped by Hawkmoth! With all of these akumitizations we had to be sure.* She looked to her purse and shook the chain that was looped around the edge of the foot of her bed. She assured him that she was safe and he should go back to sleep, and wished him goodnight before going onto the room to see if she could see anything. On the room, she looked around and saw a familiar mist. Glittery yellow and going into peoples homes. It could only be Sandboy! That poor kid had to have been watching scary movies again. It probably took so long after the first time because he was too scared to do it again, especially after finding himself in the middle of nowhere that very same night. "Tikki, we have an emergency!" She declared in a hushed enough tone that no one else could hear, but still got across the fiery determination she always felt when she was needed. "Tikki, Spots on!" ------------------------------ When she arrived to the fight, Chat was already there. He was trying to slow the boy down, but those wafts of sand moved on their own and avoided Chats baton on every hit. "M'Lady! Glad you could finally join me!" He called, smiling as he used that same metal stick to vault his way over to the spotted heroine. "Last time we beat him because of how dumb my nightmare you was. This time... I'm not entirely sure that we'll have that kind of luck. Nightmares change all the time after all." "And what's your nightmare, Chat?" The lady asked out of pure hope that they could use it to their advantage again. Totally not concern. He smirked, deciding it wasn't important to be serious in such a moment. "Well, not being able to call you my bugaboo, of coarse!" Giving his normal wink. His lady of coarse rolled her eyes. How could she not see that coming? "A nightmare? Then you're living in one, Chat." Despite her harsh-ish words, she didn't sound mad or upset or even slightly annoyed. Maybe a little bad, even. "The sand boy just checked in, now nightmares can begin!" The boy chimed, looking to the two superheroes. Though blue eyes noticed that the villains gaze wasn't directly at them, more like he was looking behind them. With a quick turn, she saw a mother and her baby in a stroller. The mom was shaking and covering her baby as she frantically tried to pull the baby and run, though Sand Boy shot a bullet of sand towards them. What could a lady do other than save a mother in need? She was brave, jumping in front of the line of fire, but she knew it would come at a cost. At first she was worried she wouldn't be able to call onto her lucky charm, but when she noticed her Yo-yo working fine, she seemed confused. "What? But it wasn't working last ti-" Her words cut off. With the simple sound and yet another familiar voice caused the girl to freeze. Luckily the mother was able to run, but Ladybug found herself unable to as she heard a little diddy sang. She could tell it was soft and farther away, yet it sounded like it was playing directly next to her ear at the exact same time. She shook, and she could tell Noir was staring. "A little kitty on a roof," the voice played, "All alone without his lady~" She slowly looked up to a nearby building to see those eyes. Disturbingly blue and icy gaze looking right back. "There you are, M'lady!" He called as he jumped down. "I have to admit, I've been fee-line lonely since you abandoned me in that other time line. You never came back to me and I was left all alone!" She backed away, shaking her head as tears threatened to prick out of her eyes. She needed to look strong! For Chat and Hawkmoth. "I-I'm not-" "Scared of me? Oh but M'lady I think you are. You're so scared that... You might fail me. Fail Paris- the world even. You know that if I find out your identity then you will have to go through the same thing... Over and over and over-" "Stop it!" That same voice interrupted itself, but it was far less cold. "M'lady, what's going on? I thought your worse fear was losing your-" And then before another word was spoke, before anyone could finish a single sentence, Sand Boy shot another pound of sand at the Chat, smirking. "Shit..." He called. He could already feel it. The bracelet on his wrist. His trust in Ladybug represented so clearly on his arm- if anything happened, he knew Ladybug would figure him out. But it was far too late anyways. "Chat!" His lady called from an entirely different direction than she was already visibly seen. Right behind him, in a state much like the Ladybug senti-monster was when he first came to her aide. A peacock flying away as she laid on the ground. "I... I don't feel too good... My Chat Noir-" Both the heroes now occupied, Sand Boy could easily use these nightmares to get those jewels for him. That in itself would be far worse than any nightmare they could even know. The real Ladybug was being backed up and taunted. "Oh Bugaboo, you know if you give me your miraculous we can fix everything! We can get rid of all the negativity in the world and make peace with everyone. We could be happy to together like we were before!" Finally, our spotted heroine was against a brick wall. Her heart was racing and her limbs were trembling. She couldn't fight him- it was her partner. Even if a nightmare, she felt so guilty- like she deserved any heart break that came to her, like she deserved to have harsh words thrown at her, like she deserved this torture of knowing she let everyone down. No, none of it happened. It was all fixed, but it just showed how capable she was of fucking up again. And as Chat Noir bent down to cradle his fake lady in his arms, his own nightmares, the real one felt the rough terrain of brick against her back move as she slide down, silently sobbing as she stared at the twisted grin her akumatized partner shared with her. "M-M'Lady?" Noir cried as fake bug reached up and caressed his cheek. He couldn't lose her- not again. So many times watching her disappear in front of his eyes, he couldn't do it again. And yet, as she faded away in a wisp of dust, still knowing what would happen, he reached down to that piece of metal at his wrist. But it was no longer there. In actuality it was never there to begin with. It was never meant for him, it was meant for Luka. Looking up, he watched Ladybug running to him, she looked panicked and lost. He quickly stood and reached to grab her, but his hand only met air as the limb of the woman slowly disappeared, fingertips to shoulder, then shoulder to chest, and spread through her body like blood pumps through veins. His heart ached as and dropped, every time his lady appeared and died...He felt himself get lost in what to do. He could only stand and watch as they all fell down, screaming to himself as he reached for his bracelet over and over again, knowing what the outcome would be but hoping it wouldn't. And yet through the haze of dust and tears, he saw her. One white clawed hand reaching down, followed by another for the sides of her head as they went in for the earrings. And suddenly, all the others didn't matter. She had been staring at him, whereas he knew her eyes were previously on the other. She saw him reach, she saw him panic and saw him scream the words he was so tired of using. After over twenty-five thousand times, it gets old. But he needed to focus. Right now, there was a bigger problem to solve. "Ladybug!" Noir called. Dashing to the others side, he used his metal baton to flick the white cat to the side, to remove him so he could pick up his lady, support her and help her stay balanced. "Are you alright? I'm so sorry for-" "Not now, Chat! Right now we need to get rid of this nightmare..." She spoke through quivering lips. As expected, the nightmare wasn't wasting time to come back up, strutting to them from the other side of the street. "Tsk tsk tsk, M'Lady. You're still fighting it? Still fighting me? Against the inevitability of your partner finding you out?" She gulped, pigtails bouncing with the force of her throat as it processed her saliva. Chat Noir didn't flinch, instead held himself in front of her, keeping her safe from him. "Whatever you mean by that, leave her alone." "Oh of coarse! You weren't there... Or shall I say it... Wasn't the place and time." He snickered, distracting them from a looming threat getting closer, step by step. A paw out, a small energy ball erupted into existence. "She's not afraid of a little kitty cat. She's afraid of love, and afraid of what it would do to the world as a hero. You see," He continued, not once looking over to give away anything sneaking up behind the two. "I found out who she is. And although she doesn't know how since she doesn't know who you are, she does know that if you find out her secret identity before the right time, you'll destroy the world, kill everyone, explode the moon and make the ocean drown everything. And she's scared, because she knows our love did it. It was all because she fell in love with you." She flinched, looking down at the ground. Because it was true. But... Now she knew something she hadn't before. "Chat Blanc," The heroine called, "Maybe I'm scared of him finding my identity out. Maybe I'm scared for my future, but I'm not longer scared of love. I know who you are now, and I think I know how you came into existence." She took a deep breath, stepping forward away from Noir, watching her steps carefully. Of coarse, she wasn't stupid. "You saved my life so many times, Chat. I never meant to upset you, and I never should have let you find me out, but now I know how to stop it. How to keep you from making my nightmare an irreversible reality." Turning around, the hero looked towards the black cat. She reached up and gently rubbed her friends cheeks with her thumbs. "Adrien. I should have known it was you all along. Brave and smart, funny when you want to be. That one time you solved an akuma attack speaking Chinese and fencing, even having the same allergies. I should have found out sooner." She pulled her face closer and closer to the others, who was nervous. Ladybug... She really was in love with him? She loved him now that she knew he was Chat. She didn't love him for him. "LB, Chat Noir is more 'me' than anyone named Adrien could be." She smiled, shaking her head. "I'm afraid of what my love will cause. Well... I was. But now I don't need to be. I'm in love with you Chat. I was just so scared of what our love would do, like when it destroyed the world in another time line. I wanted to tell you but I've been so terrified." There seemed to be a never ending train of water escaping her eyes as she went on. "Scared that I would hurt you. But now I know how to stop it, how to avoid it." This time, Adrien didn't stop her. He didn't tense or shake or pull away. He held her close, and pulled her closer, until finally their lips- -Didn't meet. Something happened. Something that he couldn't describe. One moment, Ladybug was there leaning up to kiss him, the next moment she was yanked away from him and on the floor as she appeared to transform back. She wasn't unconscious or dead, she was very much awake- though from the looks of her ears she probably wished she were. Her earrings were yanked from her ears and her cries were now pained and nearly screams as blood ran from them. And suddenly, his Ladybug became Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Eyes went wide, he had forgotten all about his own nightmare. Losing the love of his life and forgot that there was still another threat. And right next to his own evilized self was his own image of Ladybug. But now, she had holes where her earrings should have been, and she wore pink pants, a white shirt, black jacket, and no mask. She smirked just as eerily as her partner as they bumped fists, mocking their normal victory 'pound it.' "Of you scatterbrained cat, you really forgot about me? How could you..." She looked away, lost and upset. This version of her had died so many times, she seemed to have a hazy hole through her stomach, as if impaled. "I'm hurt... You never saved me. Not once in over twenty-five thousand times, months of work. All for nothing and proof that you aren't meant for me. We aren't made for each other, and that's what hurts the most." After that and seeing Marinettes sobbing form on the ground as she profusely apologized for not paying enough attention, he lost his normally cool temper. Using his baton he would swing and clash and smack every chance he had to get rid of these monsters. Several minutes of trying and attacking for naught, as he failed each time. He was losing breath, and Marinette needed medical attention. But before he could pick her up, she pushed him away. "My earring, Chat. Get them back- I-I can't use my miraculous ladybug- You have to do it. My ears- I can't put them on- I'll be better when you use them, please." She sobbed. The dark haired girl couldn't bare the pain as her ears rang, irrefutably getting more infected as time went on. Chat trusted her blindly, as he always had. He went over those damn nightmares and gave it his all- his lady needed him and he couldn't help but put everything he had into it. And finally his hard work paid off. He hadn't caught them, but the faded girl had tripped and thrown one of them by Chat. With only one earring, he couldn't transform, but... He did have an idea. It was a very sharp object. And his baton would again, save the day. Using said stick, he extending himself into the air, Sandboy had been caught off guard as Chat jumped towards the pillow and used said sharp object to tear the pillow. He had almost dropped the earring since the material was so tough, but he managed to get a big enough hole that his hands could tear though it the rest of the way, catching the little boy before he fell to the ground. Rushing over to where Marinette was- well the fake one, he found the missing earring and ran back to Marinette. "M'Lady? Can you hold this for me?" He said as he removed his ring and handed it to Mari. "I don't want to accidentally cause the end of the world by bringing them together, you know?" He laughed softly, hoping the happy sound might draw out a smile. And although she tried, her head hurt too bad to smile or laugh. "Silly Kitty, thank you." He smiled and put the earrings on, a small and familiar creature appearing. "Marine-tte..!?" The kwami started as a yelp, but ended in a question, as both the holders were very much unmasked and seeing each other. "A lot happened, okay?" Plagg started, having been able to tell what happened based on Marinettes state. And the fact that his miraculous was still on his wearer so he could see everything that happened. "Don't worry, bud. Just do what you have to." He grinned. He knew what would happen. Adrien stood, not really realizing what exactly would happen. He called on a lucky charm which gave him a paper and pencil. He was a little surprised, but Plagg seemed to know what to do. Taking it, he wrote a little note. The boy was bewildered, but nonetheless let the black creature scribble away. Once it was handed back, with the note torn out, it was tossed in the air, words were spoken and ladybugs appeared out of nowhere. But when faced with it, Adrien couldn't remember what happened. Why was Plagg holding a piece of paper? Why was he in Bug boy form and why was Marinette crying on the ground? "Oh my- what happened?" He panicked and watched as Plagg looked, noticed Marinette there, and handed Adrien the note. Bug Boy didn't have time to read it though, he just picked up the sobbing girl and carried her all the way to the hospital where they quickly took her in. They kept asking about what happened, why was she all beat up and had her ear lobes torn. He answered as truthfully as he could, but he didn't know a lot of answers. So he referred to the note, hoping it would enlighten him. "Dear Chat Noir, I had entrusted Marinette with the Ladybug Miraculous for an emergency on my end that was unavoidable. If I hadn't, it would have given away my identity. I was informed by another kwami I had brought with me that something was wrong and I saw everything that happened. Hawkmoth almost got her earrings but you saved them. She couldn't perform the Miraculous Ladybug with her ears in the shape they were in but you stepped up. I wrote all of this down and had it sent by the horse miraculous to let you know what happened, since I knew that everyone would forget with the power of the miraculous Ladybug. Thank you, Bug Boy again for saving the day. I'm sorry but I will be back soon. In the meantime, have Plagg send me back the earrings. He knows where I am since I rushed back just in time. Please remember to get the black cat miraculous back from Marinettes finger. You had given it to her to protect herself after her earrings were stolen. Love, Ladybug." The hero smiled. He was glad he could be of service. He let the nurses know what happened and took the ring back, then went off home and de-transformed. "Here, Plagg." He said and laid back against his bed. He felt a little... Shaken and he didn't know why. His heart was racing, he was tired and scared. Though he passed it off as being worried for his friend. When the kwami came back, Adrien told him about how he was feeling about what happened. He didn't know what happened, but it still seemed to have some kind of affect on him. And once Marinette woke up from the surgery that had to be performed on her ears, she knew that whatever happened had affected her too. Her ears were fixed but she was told not the wear the earrings for at least six weeks. Six whole weeks of not being allowed to save Paris, and it sucked so much. Luckily, the two kwamis were able to arrange something so the two could switch earrings secretly and not find out about each other, but it was so weird. And she still couldn't help but think about it. How she felt. The night they met in the catacombs under Paris, they were on either side of a turned edge so they couldn't see each other, and gave each other the miraculouses by sliding them across the floor in their boxes. Who knows how Plagg was able to convince Adrien that Ladybugs ears were fine but they needed to trade miraculouses. "Hey Chat?" The lady question. "Yes, M'Lady?" He answered. She felt so much less afraid of her feelings. How they would affect their mission. "I may be a bit late on this, but I just wanted you to know that I'm in love with you." It sounded so much better in her head, blunt sounded like a girl confessing her love to a boy that shared his oreos with her. "I mean-" "I understand." Chat said, putting the earrings on. "And I'm happy you feel the same. If I'm to be honest, I feel more myself as Chat Noir. Though, I guess for a while I'm going to have to be Bug Boy again, huh?" The two laughed. It lasted a few moments, and then it died down. "I'm still in love with you. You're not late, but... How would this whole thing work? We aren't allowed to find out our identities and we can't use our miraculouses for personal use." The sigh Lady Noir let out was dragged out. "I didn't think that far ahead." It was true though. "I guess we don't have any choice but to wait until Hawkmoth is defeated." And suddenly, the blond felt an impending doom fall over him. He knew that they would be fighting Hawkmoth for a long time, as Time tagger had taught them. He felt so hopeless. But he knew it was for the best. A least until he saw a black flutter stop in front of him.

[jjkpls]

(y)our name 2 - two (m)

> genre : smut, fluff

> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)

> total words : 10.3k

> warnings/content : dumbassesfriends to lovers, unrequited love, slice of life; cursing, dirty talk, penetrative intercourse, oral (m receiving), thigh riding, some filth and then some more filth; jk being a lil shit, oc still panicking

jungkook : Who said I don’t want it

It took him a good twenty minutes to send this. You don't know if he pondered over it for that long or if, after getting back to whatever it is he was doing, the thought suddenly sprang in his head. It's such a curious message. Makes your heartbeat stutters and your hands clammy and it takes you an eternity to formulate a response.

you : Well you sent me the link for a reason

jungkook : Yea cause I thought it might help but it has nothing to do with what I want

What?

jungkook : You’re the one who said you wouldn’t do it again with me

What?

you : Did i say that?

jungkook : Yes you did

You start to type but stop as you realise you don't even know what to say. He wants it again? And what is he even saying? You don't remember ever saying that. Everything's a blur honestly, but Jungkook's words, his insistence, it almost gives off the feeling that he remembers well. Perhaps he hasn't just brushed it off like you thought he did.

you : Would you want it again?

jungkook : Say what you meant to send and I’ll answer

Those goddamn dots.

you : That’s not very fair but whateva

you : You wanna be a big baby as you always are

jungkook : I’m not even going to answer that

you : Well you just did idiot

You purposefully waste time, just trying to delay the confession.

You want to test your luck -maybe rejection is not what's waiting for you. He's pushing it, demanding you to tell. He's admitted some of his own feelings so you should do the same.

you :  it’s just that I found myself very frustrated, to an extent solo doesn’t do anything for me anymore..

As soon as you send the text, you shut the device off, throwing it down on the carpet. It's burning like your shame on your face and you can't bear to hold it any longer.

You really sent that. Your heart is beating furiously. You feel yourself sweating bullets. It's so hot, you sway your legs nervously, vainly hoping to ventilate the suddenly overly-heated room.

Jungkook is sweet, he doesn't leave you hanging for too long and soon enough, your phone is vibrating, begging you to pick it back up.

jungkook : Of course it wouldn’t 

you : Ok don’t even get cocky with me dude

jungkook : Why not? It’s my fault isn’t it?

jungkook : Cause I made you feel that good

So he knows. You were annoyed for you found yourself troubled, anxious and restless. Shaken to your core, moved to your soul. But a side of you, the rational one, kept pestering that you were the chaotic, dumb and weak one responsible for the mess he's made of you. However, here, he admits he knows. He's known all along. He's done it on purpose: fucking you up.

you : 😐

jungkook : Don’t admit it it’s fine we both know it

What an ass.

you : Seriously you’re too cocky what for

Your brain is off right now. You don't know what to say, tempted by the teasing warmth your chest is taken over but nervous to let it spread too far.  

jungkook : I know I’m right

jungkook : I’m not trying to embarrass you

jungkook : Maybe embarrass your exes a bit

jungkook : But it’s pretty easy to tell

jungkook : When someone hasn’t felt a certain way before

jungkook : I know you’ve never come that hard before

jungkook : Don’t lie to me

jungkook : And more than once you reacted like I was crazy

jungkook : Thats the whole fun of playing with a cunt it’s to make it come endlessly until it hurts and your soaked sore and allswollen adn red

Shit. How does he even do that? With just a couple of texts, rendering you speechless, breathless and burning. Soaked in your panties, the discomfort so evident you have to sit up, thighs pressed to one another by fear of exposing the incriminating dark spot out in the open.

He does own you. Capable of manipulating your body and mind with a few well-chosen words. It's something you've never played with, dirty talking. And you didn't know you'd like it as much as you do. But when Jungkook does -the other night, tonight by text- it's lethal.

But how could he do it so easily? Turning so lewd so suddenly? When for the past weeks, he's acted so natural, so casual as if he couldn't care less about the sex you've had. How can he just switch like that?

you : Are you drunk?

jungkook : 😂 😂 😂 😂 😂 😂

jungkook : A bit tipsy we went to a bar with the crew

That explains some of it.

jungkook : Was it too much?

you : Nono it’s fine

you : I just don’t know what to say

jungkook : Tell me what you want

jungkook : What you meant to ask me the other night when I so rudely interrupted you with a dumbass article

Well, shit.

It's just Jungkook. Honesty and shamelessness are the main keys of your friendship. However, you're not him and expressing your sexual desires as easily as he does is not innate.

jungkook : Don’t be shy just tell me

Fuck it.

you : I’d like it if you could be with me again like the other night

You can count the excrutiatingly painful seconds as they tick by. It's been fiveteen.

you :  😬

Now, fifty.

you :  😖 😖 😖 

Finally, he decides to spare you.

jungkook : Is being friends is not a problem anymore?

you : Idk i trust you you trust me

you : We communicate well most of the time

you : Last time wasn’t such a big deal was it? I feel like we’ll be fine

you : Don’t you think?

You're rambling. You need to stop rambling. It's one thing to be in constant panic mode with this shit -this you can deal with, you know yourself and you accept it- but Jungkook really doesn't need to know.

jungkook : Idk I guess you’re right

you : So when you come back are you going to consider it?

jungkook : No

What a dick. Toying with you, bringing you there to then, deny you. How dares he?

jungkook : I’ve made up my mind already

jungkook : You’ll have me if you show yourself convincing enough

you : like how?

jungkook : It’s not that hard 

jungkook : I love it when someone makes me feel like you really want me

jungkook : *they

Oh boy.

you : k ill try

You’re resolute to try. To try your hardest. It kills you, the idea that he somehow managed to have the upper hand in this. It feels like he's going to make you suffer. But the point of the matter, the only thing you care about anymore is the fact that you were wrong -he did enjoy the first time if he’s up for a second. Oh, and also, obviously, the fact that you are a couple of hours away from a devastating orgasm you've been craving for for weeks. 

You spend the whole day -luckily for you, you're not working- prepping you. Trimming and grooming. Exfoliating and moisturizing. And as you’re doing all that, your stamina is twitching in anxiety because, holy shit, it feels like it never stops. There’s always a thing to arrange, another one that wouldn’t let itself fixed and when was the last time you spent that amount of effort into looking (that) attractive for someone? Even for Namjoon, you did not.

You did a lot. You cared about him. Namjoon was always so class and handsome and you hated the idea of being an ugly potato attached to his side so you’d take care of yourself more than you would when completely single -just gotta be honest. But not as much. You’re not exactly sure why. Probably because Namjoon was attentive and sweet but not the same kind of lover. He wouldn’t feel you up as heavily as you remember Jungkook doing. He’s never specifically asked to see you with the lights on. He’d talk to you and listen and maybe that’s more what it was about. He would lean in and seem to be drinking in your appearance when you’d be having a good conversation. One where you’d get animated and passionate. You’re pretty sure your brains -no matter how lame you consider them to be next to his- were what he liked the most about you. He must have found you pretty. Surely. But you’d never really caught him giving you a longing stare from the other end of the sofa when you were not looking.

He’d call you pretty and ravishing when he’d come to pick you up for a date and you’d spent a lot of time dolling yourself up. But always the same way. Always the same words. Never anything specific to what you were wearing or whatever. And his eyes were not really looking, were they? It didn’t hurt your feelings nor your ego that much. Because there’s probably nothing more flattering for you to have someone like you for your mind rather than your appearance -the flimsy quite irrelevant thing that you don’t really have much control over. It was fine. And like everything that used to be fine, Jeon Jungkook had to make it a problem.

As you stare at your own reflection in the mirror, pinching your lips together to spread the lipstick more evenly, you’re reminded of the way his hot stare was burning you that night. You remember how every time you’d look his way in the dark, you’d see his big round eyes locked on you with the cute stars in it shining fondly. You have no idea how attracted he is to you physically. You have no idea if he is at all or it’s just a thing that he does. Maybe he likes you the way you like an ugly old picture of yourself. With time and fondness, it becomes sweet and special and you just like looking at it.

Maybe, it's a weird analogy.

More so given what he’d be doing to you, the words he was saying while looking at you like he did. You don’t know how to read this distinctive mind of his. It’s new territory. Not completely terrifying because there’s your guide, your best friend, walking you through it. But it’s like a new mansion you’re just visiting. So bright and light and welcoming, with so many doors all closed but not locked and you don’t know what’s behind any of them even though you’re so curious to figure it out. There’s all those new faces, secrets behind those doors. You hope he’ll open them to you. All of them. They’re holding, you're certain of it, mind-blowing surprises -if the other night, where you discovered an actual man instead of your little boyish baby of a friend, is anything to go by. And it’s wonderful, that idea. That after all this time, after being so sure of knowing the kid like you’ve crafted it from scratch yourself, there is still more to learn about him. New things for him to amaze you with.

“What are you doing?” Eun is watching you with a hand on the frame of the door, eyes blown wide and a weird stance. She looks about ready to flee like she’s witnessing something so unspeakable she is that close to jump on the phone and call the cops.

That’s rude. You’d frown if you were not so concern about munching up your freshly applied mascara. Fair enough, lately, you haven’t been exactly runaway material but the way she’s looking at you is plain blank offensive. 

“I’m just making myself pretty. Do I look weird to you?” Maybe you do. Maybe you overdid it a bit. 

She completely ignores your concern to jump on the exciting bait you did not even mean to throw. “What for? You have a date?”

“No, I don’t. It’s for my own, uh, enjoyment.”

Her face twists comically while she tsks in disdain. “Bitch, please.” Getting ruder by the second, she is. “You have a date. It’s not Namjoon is it?”

“No, not with Namjoon. But do I look too different, like strange-different?”

“You look gorgeous, babe. I was just surprised.”

“Oh okay, cool.” You decide to take her words for facts, panicking over potentially looking like a clownish try-hard is not what you need.

“So... A date? You little cachotière*.” Here, the nerves hit. You have been nothing but excited since the text conversation you had with Jungkook the night before but now, merely an hour before he’s supposed to be home, you begin freaking out.

It’s Eun and her overuse of the “d-word”. Because it’s not like that. At all. If it becomes a date then you have to rightfully so freak the fuck out. Thanks to her, even if it's not one, you start losing it. In your state of panic, while you observe yourself liquify in the mirror -it’s quite interesting to watch, you having a crisis in real time-, blanching in utter destress, another scary thought assaults you.

Jungkook lives across the short hall from here. He and Jimin and you and Eun are so close and comfortable around each other, you basically share one giant apartment, allowing yourselves to just barge in no matter how inappropriate the moment is. The whole floor is a constant open house. The probability of having Eun find out that you’re in fact sleeping over to their's is so high, it’s almost prophetic.

Shit. She’s going to ask so many questions. And of course, she won’t believe you if you say you dressed yourself up to the nines just to go play games with Jungkook. She’d think there would be something else to it. And she’d be right. But she doesn’t need to know just yet. You were blessed enough the other night, that she drunk herself to sleep with Jimin, knocked herself out so bad she couldn’t remember anything past the cake cutting. Not that you have or want to preserve secrets from her. It’s not really secrets. “Secrets” sounds like you’d purposefully want to withhold information from her from lack of trust. It’s not like that. It’s just whatever Jungkook and you are doing is yours. There are a lot of things you two never consider sharing with other people just because they are your thing.You two share a private garden and no one will ever be invited to visit it.

“Who is it?”

“I- just- it’s a bit soon to-“

“You don’t wanna say yet. Ok, I get it.” She says it with geniune sympathy, yet her glossy lips puckered in a little pout. “Do I know him?”

“Uh- possibly.” Her eyes widen for a second before they’re looking up to the roof, searching her brain for the full list of your common acquaintances -she’s understanding and respectful but that doesn’t mean she's not eaten up by curiosity.

After a while, as you ponder over your own image and consider wiping your whole face off of the makeup to just go with something more like your everyday self, the one Jungkook knows better, Eun gives up on the investigation and redirects her attention back to you, “Is he handsome?”

You don’t know how to answer her and end up giving an incoherent babbling and spilling of squeaky sounds that can only describe it better than words would. She’s smiling a wolf grin, picking up a lipstick from her personal shelf before taking a makeup remover tissue to drag over your already painted mouth. She applies, meticulously, the new taint she’s chosen. It’s a deep red, very sultry that gives you the look of a sexy vampire or maybe a succubus.

She gets it. Jungkook's tending to observe you is not the only reason you've worked so hard on yourself. He is so deadly handsome. You always knew but not felt it arouse anything within you. You saw him as that little brother of yours who’s grown so much into a very charming, universally attractive boy. But that night, with his hair -you’d never, in more than a decade of being his friend, seen his forehead and you’re oh-so glad you did not because horny-high-school-you would probably have freaked about it, who would think that eyebrows could do so much to someone's face- pulled back and his leather jacket, quirking his eyebrow and biting his lip and leaning around like he was some kind of James Dean. You don’t know how responsible are the orgasms -surely, they can have an impact on your perception-, or your thirst, but you’ve decided, observing him more attentively since that night, that he was one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen. Truly.

Also you can’t actively name who would be standing right next to him on the podium but that’s just a detail. A detail you won’t share with him more than you did last time because you don’t want his ego to inflate and explode right in your face. It wouldn’t be pretty nor pleasing. He's cocky enough already as it it.

Anyway, you just want to look beautiful because he, himself, is so much so. 

“I hope you’re aiming to get laid because with this magic...” Eun leaves the sentence pending, her sharp eyebrows high over her protruding eyes conclude it. You can’t control the widely telling grin drawing itself on your mouth.

“You’re gonna need a lot of convincing.” It’s the first thing he said as he saw you walked in through the cracked open door. You’d just sneaked your way through the whole length of their apartment, trying to not get caught by Jimin while having a mini attack because said Jimin was sitting right there, in the living room you had to pass by. He had headphones on and was so engrossed in whatever he was doing on his cellphone that he didn’t even notice you, staring at him like a deer caught in headlight, not even flinching when in your panic to run from the scene while luck was still on your side, you had knocked down a craft bag full of noisy ramen boxes. You hadn’t even picked it up, just rushing to the end of the hallway for Jungkook’s bedroom.

You don’t know what you look like right now. You feel awkward and dishevelled and quite exposed, standing in front of him in your fancy outfit while he’s in his pyjamas, looking up at you from the bed, with an unimpressed expression masking his face.

“You know I arrived 2 hours ago, right?” He is not genuinely upset, you can tell. But there’s a little edge to his tone. An honest curiosity. And maybe a relief. Maybe he thought you had changed your mind and hadn’t bothered letting him know about it.

“Yes, sorry. Mom called.” You say it with a bratty roll of your eyes as if you’re not left warm and fuzzy each time you hang up a phone call with her.

She’s lovely. You miss her often but not to the point of actually wanting her around -she’d pester and nag the life out of you if she were to see the state of your room and just the general way you chose to do things. And she talks so much. She has so much to say every time she picks up the phone to ring you. Everything about her and about your dad and the rest of the family and the rest of the neighbourhood and what the mayor has been up too and what her colleagues at work have been discussing about these days. It goes on and on and on and you understand that it comes from a place of her missing you dearly but when most of the times it is okay and a fairly entertaining way of wasting two hours doing nothing, you couldn’t care less about whatever the hell was going to be replacing the shop next to your uncle’s when the stupid story is delaying the event of tonight. But how could you tell her that? So you sat on the barstool, your forehead pressed onto your handbag (that you didn’t need but you were supposed to go out on a date so that fit better the narrative), shoe-clad feet bouncing nervously in the air, half-listening, half-dreading, humming noncommittal monosyllabic words into the phone, as Eun watched you from the sofa, staring with a beyond confused, low-key judgmental gaze, miming with all her body how you should hang up and head out. And that’s how you arrived two hours late when you meant to be in his bedroom before he even came back from the station.

You shrug, grimacing in a form of apology. But Jungkook knows your mom like his own and doesn’t hold you accountable for the lateness anymore, his face being recovered by a soft layer of fondness at the mention of her. “She said to tell you she thinks about you a lot and misses you. And to give you kisses too.” He chuckles at that and you match him, amused by the double meaning you now give to the term. You used to almost fear those innocent kisses -more subconsciously than not, it just wouldn’t come about, none of you needing to express your affection like that- and look at you now. About to get screwed by him. For the second time.

He is staring up at you with an intensity, you don’t want to get ahead of yourself and assume what it means but it is here. And you can't help but stare back, hoping to not show too much how bad you want to jump on him right now. Lain in bed like that, back pressed against his headboard, with a half unbuttoned white silky-like shirt, and his expression and his demeanour, you can see that under the cover his legs are taut and slightly parted: he looks like he’s expecting something. You. He’s been expecting you and you’re finally here and he’s tantalizing you with the meal he knows you want to consume. Tantalizing because no matter how sure you are that his expression means he still is on board and wants you, he doesn’t look willing to make a move. “So, as I was saying: a lot more convincing will be needed.”

“Well, I’m here already. Doesn’t that tell you I- like- want it?”

“Sure. But still it’s late and I’ve been travelling all evening and I’m so tired.” He feigns a yawn. “As you can see, I was going to sleep.” What an annoying little shit. He makes his eyes all big and sorry-looking, putting his mouth in a pout like he’s saddened. But you see the quirks of his stupid eyebrows. He has the “bullshit face”. It’s pretty self-explanatory. Whenever he has it on, and he has very little control over it by the way, you know he’s in for some bullshitting. Either it shows when he wants to get away with something he’s done or doesn’t want to admit it out loud, or he’s straight on wanting to mess with you. He has had that stupid face since he was fourteen and he pretended in that one conversation about porn and sexism that he shared the same opinion as you and yes, lesbian porn for male was wrong and disgusting. He didn’t believe a word of it, and this not because he was a big fan of the genre but because he wasn’t a big consumer of porn in general -which you didn’t know at the time. You just knew that he was lying because his face contorted in a way it never did before and that was suspicious as hell.

So here comes the bullshit face and you already know why. You’re in for some torture. Jungkook and his stupid competitive ass. While he doesn’t like competing in 'real' life with other people because he doesn’t like to win over them, he has no problem with you. He loves to make your life harder. He balances it out by being the best friend you've ever had but still, so aggravating.

“Guk, seriously, don’t be mean. I already made the first step the other day!”

“And then you avoided me for a week.” He says, totally unfazed.

“It wasn’t even a week.” You’re the one scowling now. Mumbling through button-shaped lips. “Seriously, I can’t do this...” There’s a flash of alarm blinking for a second on his face as he straightens up in his bed, the cover slipping completely from his torso, exposing all the golden skin peeking from the open shirt.

“Do what?”

“‘Convince you’. I can’t- like- seduce you or whatever.” You grumble like an upset kid and that’s pretty much what you feel like. It’s like your favourite toy, the one you’ve been wanting for many Christmas is just right here, within reach, but you won’t have it because you’re required to resolve an impossible math problem or something. It’s too hard. You already feel yourself burning from embarrassment, your heart is thumping in your temple and you just decide to give up, taking a few tentative steps backward, hand already reaching out for the handle when Jungkook jumps off of his bed to grab it. Standing so tall and broad, hovering you, his warm hand holding yours and the breeze of his perfume hitting your nostrils, you’re taken by a rush of excitation. It’s crazy what the context does to perception. He stood that way in front of you so many times but never have you felt so small, never have you found him so big and attractive because of it and that scent, you’ve smelled basically all your life -a soft flowery carress-, never made your head spin that way.

“Don’t leave!” His voice is a bit loud, almost desperate and the thought that he might be makes you smile internally. “Lemme help you.” He demands so gently, with the stars in his eyes as fervent supporters to his cause, there’s no way you’d say no. He could ask you anything when he’s looking and talking to you like that, with his warm hand now pressed to your neck, thumb caressing your cheek.

You nod your head once and he kisses you. As softly as he is, your hands clutch at his shirt way too intensely to match. He’s so gentle like you’re a tiny little thing he’s dreading at the idea to scare away. So different from the kisses you remember him giving you the other night. It’s lovely anyway. Tender as can be. Delicate and kind and when he pulls back to look into your eyes again, your heart warms up with all the love and adoration you have for this man. He really is your best friend, the most important person in your life that you had chosen and he makes you so happy.

“Is it okay?” He whispers so sweetly you want to wrap your arms around his neck and suffocate him with love. You nod again this time more dismissively because a scent in his breath has just interpellated you.

“Have you been drinking?”

He smiles cheekily, dipping his head down in guilt. “I had a shot or two.” You relish in the shameful tremble of his confession.

There’s this complimentary thing about you two. One would often compensate for the other's lacking. It’s never been conscious or anything but it’s always been there. You see the way he gulps visibly, you recognize the tiny blush of his cheeks sauntering to his ears, you know why he had those shots, and you feel the rush of confidence run through your veins because he is so nervous, you can see it now. Therefore, you have to tease. It’s only fair.

“You were not this nervous by text, were you?”

“Stop saying that, I’m not nervous!” He exclaims with passion but you both know he’s lying and it makes you laugh right in his face, uncaring of his pinching your cheek to make you stop. He’s just too cute and dumb.

“Keep that up and I really won’t be nice to you.”

Even if the grin remains on your face, you shudder from head to toes. His tone has dropped to a lower purr, his gaze is dark with a gravity that wasn’t there before. That's funny because it really feels like a deja-vu. Last time unrolled so similarly and you know what is supposed to happen now.

“You always say that.” He doesn’t say anything, keeps staring, engaging in an eye staring contest, daring you to not drop your own. “You threaten me but you never act on it.” You say quietly. You don’t know what comes over you, probably just the heat of the moment, but you regret almost instantly to be so reckless. You don’t want him to be merciless with you. You had a taste of him being fairly nice the other night and almost died. You’re terrified of him being mean. But here you are tempting him into doing just that.

Perhaps he, who knows you the best, reads you again like a book he’s written himself and he settles for being soft and lenient with you. He leans in to smash his lips to yours, now wet and demanding, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth before you even get to close your eyes. His hands holding your head firmly, his hips leaning forward making his thighs dig into you, his tongue greets for the briefest of moment your own, sending a direct message to your centre which you can feel clench around nothing. But before you can gather back your thoughts and try and meet him and work his mouth too instead of just letting him devour you, he’s let you go. All grip on you, any proximity allowing you to feel his warmth are gone. He’s so far the only thing that's still been linking you, the thin strip of saliva joining your mouths, snaps. You’re cold outside yet burning inside, heart erratically pumping in your chest, feeling dumb and confused and abused and revolted, because why would he already stop? Especially to step back and look at you like he’s decided he now wanted to be mean.

“I’ve helped you enough. Now it’s on you.” You gawk in silence, watching mindlessly as he proceeds on making his bed, laying the cover flat so he could hop back down on it.

“What does that mean?”

“Make me feel good. Remind me why I’m letting you have me when you’re being such a bitch.” You gasp at the choice of word. He’s never used it in front of you, not even in a joking manner -or maybe once or twice but he was talking about his roommate who happens to be one at times. Your astonishment is met with the greatest smirk. He’s having so much fun because he’s got the upper hand again. “Treat me better and I’ll be good to you when it’s your turn.”

And this is one of those moments you'd encountered so many times since you were a little girl. This instance where two options would be presented to you and you had to make a choice. An important one. One that you decided would define you and therefore, it needed to be the right one. Either you choose the easiest option, indulge in your fear of the unknown, turn into a coward, denying yourself what you really want because you’re scared. Or you carry your virtual balls, decide that even if you might fail, you will follow this terrifying path out of your comfort zone because you want the future you to be proud and thankful for you. Most of these times, you did not only think about you but also about the little boy with the bunny teeth and fluffy hair and big and soft wondering eyes which were always watching you, you couldn’t permit yourself to bend and plead because you wanted to inspire him to be strong and adventurous.

The boy's right there. Not so little anymore. Not needing any push nor any light to follow. But eyes still as big and soft, looking at you so expectantly, you recall those would never hurt you. You can face the shame. You can even face the embarrassment of not knowing what to do or try and end up doing wrong because it’s just Jungkook. He’d smile to heal your bruised ego and guide you gently the way he did before.

You step forward, carefully, as if he’s become the fragile being ready to fly away now. It's silly. The precaution is for you more than for him. Legs twitching slightly, eyes set on your every move, lips now hanging open as if he’s struggling to breathe, he doesn’t look whatsoever wanting to back away. He’s waiting for you. You slip your feet out of your shoes in a swift motion, before kneeling on the bed, one hand setting on his knee. You see his Adam's apple jump up and down and you wonder if he doesn’t wish he had downed more than two shots. He keeps switching from a nervous wreck to a hot “alpha” dude and you don’t understand how you're supposed to deal with that.

When you look down, pondering over your next move, you notice the blue shorts he has on. You know them for you’ve seen him wearing them multiple times before. They’re meant to be rather loose. At least you thought they were. But as you gawp at them, you’re struck by how tight they look on his legs. They end way higher than they should because of his position, his thighs filling them up to the point of straining -if he keeps them for too long you’re sure he’ll have a thin indent along his skin. His thighs look so meaty and the part just before his knees, lacking fat rendering his monstrous muscles enhanced. You press your own legs on reflex. You had no idea a man's legs could be so attractive.

The glorious view finishes to urge you on. Trailing forward, your hands set on the object of your new obsession, fingers loving the warmth of his skin and dipping in the flesh. He feels wonderful under your touch.

Would he let you bite them a bit? Maybe if you ask nicely, he will. You shake the thought off. It’s not the plan right now. You don’t even know if he’d like that and you’re supposed to please him.

You raise yourself from the bed, keeping your balance thanks to the grip you have on his thighs and get even closer to take a seat on the left one. Jungkook looks so handsome from up close. You’re met with his soft skin and pretty shades. There’s the rather deep scar he got on his cheek one of those times when you were fourteen and you were practising riding your bikes on the low stairs in front of the subway station. You remember how scary it was to have to entangle him from his fucked up bike with half of his face pissing blood. Terrifying. But it left him with this eternal scar, charming along with his boyish features, and memory of a not-so-pleasing moment but precious friendship. You love it even more because he lies each time he's asked about it, telling crazy stories that'd never happened, while sporting a cheeky smile only you understand. And there are his beauty marks scattered here and there like they’re playing a game of hide-and-seek. You find your favourite one hiding under his bottom lip, lean in to place a kiss on it.

When you back away his eyes are shut, his face so relaxed, he looks so peaceful and happy with this tiny curve of his pink lips -lips that you notice are smeared with a faint dark red you know to be the lipstick you're wearing-, you want to squeal from how grateful you are to have him like that.

Jungkook scrapes his throat when he opens his eyes again, shifting a bit under you as if to get more comfortable and you’re reminded that he’s waiting. He’s been waiting patiently and your clit from down here pulses as to remind you that you also need something.

So you start moving. Hands pressed to his shoulders, loving how sturdy and big he feels under you, you grind languidly along his thigh. You feel it building already. You've lost the manner, the way to do this for it to be nice, but it's so hot: he is, his breath on your lips is, the room, everything is. Soon the intense gaze you’re sharing with him is broken as his head falls backward, all teeth out from how amused he is. You don’t stop moving, no matter how confusing his reaction is, because the contact on your clit feels incredible. It shoots a succesion of electric shocks through you, blanking your mind momentarily each time, there’s no way you’re stopping because he wants to make fun of you again. 

“So I tell you to please me and that’s what you come up with?” He asks once his fit of chuckles have quiet down. 

Breathlessly, you counter, “You said you liked that.” You’re not offended about his change of mood. You couldn’t care less. Not when you’ve figured out exactly how to move your hips to treat your cunt, when the motion has come so easy to perform you can now speed up comfortably. 

“I do but when you’re done, you’ll have to try harder than that.” You nod, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed. He takes hold of your hips. He’s not guiding, just letting his hands there as to feel you, encourage you. “For now, just make yourself come, babe.” Your eyes open again on his, the latter having a lot to say. You read them outright. He wonders if it’s ok to call you that. He apologizes every time he does it by accident so it feels a bit weird, unfamiliar. But the pet name, for some reasons you don’t care to elucidate, renders you all putty and giddy. He can probably feel it in the way you melt even more in his embrace, looking up at him with large eager eyes. 

“I promise I’ll do better after.” It slips out of your mouth straight from your hazy heart and Jungkook catches it with eagerness. You sound so tiny and lenient. Almost pitiful. 

“You’re doing great, baby.” He assures you right away, kissing your jaw with way more tongue than lips. “You’re so sexy.” You moan over him, from the pleasure building, the wetness on your skin, the praise, the name. Your fingers slip under the open folds of his shirt, too lazy and incompetent to unfasten the buttons, but so eager to grant your eyes with the glorious vision of his thick chest, they drag the tissue down as much as it’d go, not caring the least about how the stretch might hurt the skin around his neck. “Are you close?”

“Yes.” You moan in his ear. His hands on your covered hips glide along your thighs to sneak under the skirt of your dress and grab the flesh the find there. 

“You know one thing that I would really like you doing for me?” His voice, texture of honey, meets the crook of your neck and coats your heart in a thick, warmth layer.

“Tell me.” You pant in his face without an once of embarrassment left. You’re rutting like a horny bitch on his thigh, begging him to tell you how you could please him. How he brought you there, how he is doing all this is beyond your comprehension but you're loving every aspects of it.

“I'd really like you to cover my cock with the pretty lipstick you have on.”

Your lips press against one another. May Eun be blessed.

“I’d love that.” His tongue is at your collarbone for a devilishly short instant. “'Will show me how desperate you are for it.”

“Ok, I will.” He smiles to you, from his bunny smile to his glittering eyes. “Can you kiss me? Like ear-earlier?” His mouth is on yours before you get the question fully out. You moan into him, finding out this is the tiny push you needed. As he licks and sucks, his fingers digging deeper in your thighs, you get off both from the friction and his kiss. You’re almost there. You can feel the heat spreading. You sneak one of your hand down his chest to his crotch to get a grasp of his cock. It’s so hard and so hot under your palm. So hot and wet in your mouth. And you are coming undone, hips snapping on his leg, eyes shut and lips open only to leave out a small, broken whine. The pressure against your clit feels a bit too intense, a bit raw and makes you jerk and wince, until Jungkook wraps his arms around you and welcomes you into his chest, kissing the top of your head while whispering something you don’t really catch through the ringing in your ear.

It’s decided. If he’s ok with it you’ll come back to his bed for all your sexual needs. Rubbing yourself on a pillow never felt that good and he hasn’t done much to you, just being there and turning you on in a way that shouldn't be allowed. When you withdraw from his lap, you’re cringing visibly from the sensitivity, movements slow and careful, face contorted. Jungkook is watching you with undisguised enjoyement, a grin biting on his lower lip. 

“So I gather you like thigh riding too, now?” You shrug, red in the cheeks, avoiding his gaze. He doesn’t comment further. He just sits there, the tips of his fingers grazing mindlessly the thigh you just rode. The other set of fingers toying with the hem of his dishevelled shirt. You watch him from under your lashes, not ready to meet his eyes just yet, resulting in you having to face the prominent bulge of his crotch. The moment lasts for an eternity. All you can think about is why he won’t give it to you already. “If there’s something that you want, you should know how to ask for it.”

Aggravation is heavy on your temples. You take the time to think about it and quite frankly you don’t have it in you to start arguing for something you both know that you both want. You’re not that petty. He can have his stupid win if he wants. 

“Strip already so I can- suckyouoff.” How is it so difficult to say out loud? You’ve never thought yourself to be that prude but here you are, having to say the words, and you realize you’re so unfamiliar with them if not for the erotic novels you used to read back in high school. While he, on the other hand, says all those obscenities with such perfect phlegm.

His slender fingers raise to his shirt, toying with the first button and after an excruciatingly long time which tastes of pure torture, they unfasten it. They aim for the next one but just stop there. You’re boiling, shaking, this close to jump on him and rip it off already. Decency and, to a bigger extent, pride keep you from doing so. He would like this too much.

“That won’t do, ___.” You can't help the long sigh that escapes you.

“Remember what I said? Convince me.” He says again, stressing the syllables as to make sure you get them right this time. He's pushing you so far. Too far. You don't get why he would challenge you this much. He was gentler the other night, more complaisant. Maybe it turns him on. Maybe he's not a total dick and actually likes to be worshipped rather than simply enjoying your misery. You do want to please him. Therefore, with a trembling voice, breath shorten by timidity, you pronounce aloud the words you mean but hurt to admit.

“Can I please have your cock?” Those are the magic words. In a blink of the eyes, his shirt is thrown away, one of his hand sets on his crotch, massaging it softly while the other reach for you, open palm welcoming you forward. You fit yours in it, Jungkook presses the inside of your fingers to his mouth before he drags you to him. Once you've kneeled in between his opened legs, your hand slip from his. You look up, gnawing on your lip. “Can you like- guide me through it?”

“You've never given head before?”

“I did but- I don't know. I want it to be good.” He smiles wide. That big, big grin that shows off both his up and down lines of teeth, with his dumb nose all scrunched up.

He nods, observing you quietly. And you reach for the waistband of his shorts. You mean to just drag it down to his thighs but he takes upon himself to strip completely out of it. You have no idea how he does that, standing fully naked there, in front of you -who's still fully clothed, by the way. You're not complaining; when he's looking this good, it makes it rather understandable. He looks perfect. Perfect but not in a linear, boring way. In a shockingly stunning way.

You've never had the full experience. You had the massive thighs, the broad shoulders and lean chest, his pretty face and opulent fluffy hair on top of it. But all put together, he's a deadly piece of art. Hypnotizing. Shaped like an Adonis. He looks so handsome. Gorgeous.

And of fucking course, as any piece of art, not a detail is left neglected. He's this remarkable to his very sex.

It's so fucking ridiculous. And unfair.

Quick before letting yourself the time to look at it for too long and get intimidated, you wrap your hand around it. Fairly long and lean, fair with a blushy tip. So soft and warm and hard in your hand. Such a pretty cock. The thought plagues your mind but you're smart enough to not say it aloud. It's one of the weirdest thought you've ever had, you realize.

It's true though. So true. So pretty it just pulls you in.

You kiss the head a few times, slowly, before you slide to the length. Walking your way up with your tongue, you hear him hiss aloud, see his abs contracting in spasms.

The tip of his cock is so tender. Flushed, silky and soaked, tasting and feeling so nice on your tongue, on your lips. Your eyes meet his. You're just curious to see how sweet his face looks when he's letting out all those tiny whimpers. You see him grimace, frown before he closes his eyes shut and throw his head back, blocking entirely the view you're giving him and you're wondering if you're doing this right. He's not giving you any guidance like he said he would. He's not that loud, quite quiet even, if you consider how talkative he was the other night. He's not bucking his hips uncontrollably in your wet heat like you remember your ex, Taehyung, used to do.

As you suckle on the head, dipping the tip of your tongue in the slit, your left hand holding him firmly upward while the right one, curiously tests its way down, caressing his balls. There's a switch hidden there apparently. Each time the tip of your fingers dip there, he leaves out a languid groan.

“You're not telling me what to do.” You complain between two deep inhale, raising up. Your lips feel hot, tingly, and you imagine them swollen and red. You imagine it's the reason why he's staring at them the way he is.

“I don't need to tell you anything. You're- You're doing perfect.” It makes you roll your eyes. His voice is tensed, his words stuttered but he might be faking it. He's not even cursing or anything. His hands not gripping your hair. Awfully disappointing. Perfect in your mouth but disappointing around you. Even more so, when he stops you from leaning to work your mouth on him again. “You wanna give me more?” You stare silently, not having a clue of where a yes would take you. “Wanna try to ride me?”

It’s the best sensation you’ve ever felt. Sitting on his chest like it's your throne, having him look up at you with the giant marbles he has for eyes, enchanted and eager. “Should I eat you out first?” You’re soaked. You’ve been feeling yourself drip since you tasted for the first time a drop of his precum, you don’t need to be eaten out. You know what’s to come. You’re about to have him fill you up again. After all this time craving for it, dreaming day and night about it. You wouldn’t want to delay it any longer.

When Jungkook gets busy grabbing a condom from the nightstand, you take the opportunity to throw your dress over your head. You’re not sure why he hasn’t hinted at taking it off yet. His wandering hands have been teasing the skin under it non stop but he’s never tried to actually take it off.  

“Jungkook, why not take my dress off?”

He looks up from the wrapper he’s been struggling with, confusion shining in his eyes. His mouth opens, about ready to answer but he catches sight of your form, naked except for the delicate black lace lingerie you carefully picked. He’s never seen you naked with proper lightening, nor any close to this state of undressing as the last time he’s seen you in a bikini, well, you can't remember but it was probably in late middle school. He seems to like it. It’s the special gaze again. The one of a lover. The ardent one, dark, almost teary as his hands graze up your sides so lightly it leaves a painful scorching along the skin. “You’re beautiful.”

“Thanks.” You mean to hit his chest to chastise his over-exaggerated gravity but you can’t deny his sincerity and your hand simply lands flabbily instead. “Can I keep my, uh, underwear?” He just nods, doesn’t get cocky or mocking, eyes still bathing in your appearance, and a crazy thought occurs. Could it be possible that he sees you the same way you see him?

You don’t like to talk in leagues. It’s ridiculous and pointless and for the most part inaccurate. You know your worth. You’re a good person with a lot to offer, fairly pretty on a good day, with some flaws, of course, but nothing that outrageous, just like most people. But Jungkook is quite, he’s quite phenomenal. Friendship put aside, you can see how much of a surreal deal he is. And physically -even though it doesn't usually matter to you but since it’s about sleeping together for the sake of sex rather than feelings, it kind of does matter here-, he’s beyond anything you have ever seen, in real life or on a screen. He’s something else. Something else from another world. A perfect dream of a perfect sculptor brought to life. And he’s looking at you like he doesn’t know that, like he can’t see that and he believes it’s you the piece of art.

“Sure. You’re- It looks so pretty on you.” His voice has lost some of the heavy tension from before. He's smoothing the tissue under his fingers, studying the quiet intricacies in the pattern.

“Thanks. I just bought it.” His dark orbs snap up.

“For me?” You could lie. You could and he would never know about it but you want to tell him the truth. You nod. Shrugging slightly to pretend casualty. Kindly, he whispers, “Thank you, babe. I love it.”

Maybe it's the timid blush on your cheeks that manages to change his heart. Either way, it’s like he finally thinks you’ve done enough and don’t deserve to be waiting any longer. However, now it’s your turn to delay the action a bit. Placing your hand on his just wrapped firmly around his cock, you prevent him from covering it up just yet. There’s still precum shinning at the slit, and the head looks so sweet, you just need to know if it’d feel as good against your clit as it did on your tongue. It does. It’s soft and sleek, warm, it toys so pleasingly with your button and the visual, the visual is sinful. The cherry on top is the expression you catch on his face when you look up. Jungkook is as mesmerized as you are by the sight.

“I want you now, Guk.” It takes him a good five seconds during which he gauges your gaze. You’re not sure what he meant to find there. Doubt maybe? Disappointment? Probably. Disappointment matching his own for he seems to drag on the moment he separates your two sexes to proceed on slipping the condom on. You feel it too. The almost dread. There’s a vivid image of him jerking himself off against your clit that blinks furiously behind your eyelids. Fuck. It doesn’t help to see him tug at his cock and manipulate it between those beautiful veiny hands of his.

“Up.” You obey forthwith, pushing on your knees to let him place the tip just under you. His free hand push the crotch of your panties to the side, managing to sneak a couple of fingers between your lips. It makes him smile when he sees you unwittingly bucking your hips forward. “You control it all, ok? It’s like for my thigh, you just do what feels good to you, yeah?”

You nod. The rational part of your brain is freaking out but the greedy glutton that is the other side jumps on the occasion. Literally. In one swift motion, you've downed yourself completely on him, taking his cock entirely in, you’re almost positive you can feel him in your womb. It has him gasp loudly, cursing under his breath as his hands fly to your hips to squeeze them meanly. You don’t know if it’s a manifestation of a brusque and unexpected rush of pleasure or if you’ve hurt him as much as you hurt yourself. He should have done it. He’s the one that knows how to get you off. He gives you the power for five seconds and you manage to hurt the both of you with your incompetence and stupid hormones. It's not a good time to give up though. Not when he still has the steamiest kisses for your collarbones. You start rising up slowly this time, it’s decided you’re keeping it slow. It’s easier for you and brings you progressively to a more comfortable fit. Also as you take your time to free every inch and take them back in one by one, you get to feel him graze your walls. It’s a wonderful sensation. Being that filled up. Being on top of this man who’s still holding you like you’re holding his faith between your hands and he’s so willing to know what you’ll decide to do with it.

Lucky for him, you're feeling merciful. It’s hard not to when through the layers of sweat and crimson covering him into your lover, you still catch glimpses of your best friend. The cute little boy, forever the cure to your loneliness and adversities, the one person you would give up your whole life and its aspirations for. Even your family, you care so much about them, love them so dearly but you’re still marked by that time you had to come to the realization that your life was your own and you had to disappoint them by going against what they wanted for you just because it didn’t match your vision. But Jungkook, Jungkook could ask anything from you, anything and you’d give it to him. You’d give up on anything that’s ever meant something to you. Because he is everything. He's all the meaning your life owns. You’re not sure if it’s the right time but it’s there, sitting on his cock, riding him minutely that you feel a rush of utter love and adoration for the one friend that possesses your happiness since you were little. He's so sweet to have never withheld it from you but you know it depends on him. You could cry just meeting his pretty eyes looking back at you with as much fondness as your heart feels.

You’re getting too sappy, it’s ridiculous. You gather it comes from the pace, nice but not high enough to have you two focused entirely on the pleasure. Therefore you proceed to mix it up as much as your body would allow you. Switching the speed, the movements, rotating your hips instead of rising them, going back to jumping on it, just guiding yourself by his reactions, the quiet curses, the kneading of your flesh under his hands, the wincing of his features. He’s so hot. So sexy. You can’t keep your eyes off of him. You don’t even deliberately control your hips anymore. It’s just your body following closely Jungkook's advice. Doing whatever feels good.

“Guk, I’m close.” His eyes which had been closed for the past few minutes from the deep grinding of your hips against his pelvis suddenly shoot open. They’re not soft nor gentle anymore. All dark and intense again.

He grabs your face in his hand, the thumb digging in your left cheek as the rest of his fingers press the other one. Pressing his mouth hard to yours he asks, “Will you come for more?” He's harsh, voice severe as he doesn't speak but growl, sending an electric jolt to your spine. Soon the idea that there might be even more hidden wherever that Jungkook comes from is sending liquid fire to your cunt.

“Yes, yes, I will!” You gasp, blinking a tear down your cheek. He notices it and let his grip on your face to wipe it away. You’re about to come. You’re so fucking close. You can tell the ball of your orgasm has reached its maximum size, it just needs something, one little something to burst and annihilate everything else. “Why?” His hand is back to the side of your face, not rigid like before instead warmly cupping it. Eyes searching for yours, he presses, “Why is that? Baby, tell me please.”

“Cause you’re so goo-uh”

“Me or my cock?” He chuckles against your hair and you wonder how the fuck he has enough brains left to make jokes, when he’s that deep inside of you and must be, has to be, as close as you are.

“B-both” That makes him laugh again, that same mean chortle.

“Yes,” He’s moaning it so languidly. He relishes in the idea. “Shit- come here.” Jungkook presses down on your lower back, you follow leniently, like clay in his hands, laying entirely on top of him. He helps you raise your ass up higher and once you meet the perfect position to take it, he starts thrusting upward hard, slowly but brutally, each time you can hear the loup clap of his hips against your skin, you’re pretty sure it’s going to hurt tomorrow but for now, it feels fabulous.

It’s so rough and it feels like you’ve been going at it forever. The girth is dragging the ring of your hole along with the movement and that stimulation alone is electrifying. You’re almost there.

“Tell me- talk to me,” Desperation is laced closely to his tone now. It fits him so well, you're loving it. “Tell me y-you’ll come back to me for m-more, please.” He’s losing it, you can hear it in his tremble, his cute stutter. And the grunts he’s leaving between each needy word sound animalistic.

“I will, Jungkook.” It comes out before you even get to think the confession over. But as it does, you realize you mean them entirely. “I’ll always come back, you just, ah, you fuck me so well. So fucking good, your big cock always-” A particularly strong thrust, resembling more of a spasm, pushes a new tear down your cheek. “fills me up so good, you- no one has ever-“

“Fuck. No one has ever what?”

“Fucked me this good, shit.” Shockingly enough it’s your own words, filterless, genuine and born from the fabulous heat of this moment, that suffice to push your orgasm to the edge and make it explode and invade your whole being, body and mind. You don’t even take notice when Jungkook ends up coming, blinded and rendered deaf by your own pleasure.

It's when your erratic heart starts to calm down, and your muscles to relax, melting calmly into Jungkook’s body who’s welcoming you so kindly, not complaining about the heat or the weight or the stickiness, you gather he came too.

It’s incredible this sensation. Not that you’re proud of it but being taken over by pleasure so much so to render you selfish and clueless of your every surrounding, even your lover, it’s never happened before. You wonder if that’s not the precise reason why none of your before-Jungkook orgasms can compare.

As you land back safely on his chest, you're only granted a few minutes with his agitated heart beating under your cheek and his comforting warmth before your surroundings reappear to you, obnoxiously reminding themselves to existence. “Oh my god, Jimin!” You whisper yell in a theatrical gasp. It just makes Jungkook laugh. This moron.

“S’fine, he has Eun to discuss it with.” You raise up, fighting the fatigue, just to glare at him. It's the same stupid argument as last time. Except this time, it's so fucking worse. You still don't get how casual he can be about this. “I don’t care. Do you?”

a/n : Phew. That was a big chunk. If you made it this far, i thank you immensely. I’m sorry if the editing is a bit off, i’ve been looking at this piece of work for too long and my head is torturing me so yea, soz. What did you think? Tell me all your thoughts!! There’s still one chapter to go (but i don’t know when it’ll be up - i have other little spooky projects to attend to, i hope you guys don’t mind). ANYWAY. A beautiful week-end to you guys, kisses, love & 🍗🍜. :)

tag list : @lavscenery @busansgloss @batakookie @jwlmnbt @somewhereinthestarss @amanda-deann @feminist-goddess