#don’t come for me…bad title of your sex tape | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joonberriess · 1 year

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h o m i e h o p p e r

p a i r i n g : JK, HSK, NJ x reader

g e n r e : college au.

t a g s : homie hopping (the title duhhh), bang chan makes an appearance as your bf, he’s being cucked, vaginal sex, blow jobs, cunnilingus, sex tapes, sexual objectification (on reader), dirty talk, degradation, hook-ups, voyeurism, reader is really pretty (she’s a sweetie pls), poly!relationship undertones, chan refuses to even believe the rumors, sexual innuendos and jokes, the boys are assHOLES, low-key toxic, joon and them are fuckin mean, car sex, chan's POV, surprise for u at the end, chan goes thru it a lot, everyone is bad here LMAO

w o r d c o u n t : 6.3 k

s u m m a r y : the rumors weren’t true… or were they?

When Chan first heard the rumors he was absolutely furious, how could anyone ever talk about someone like that? Never mind that, WHY would anyone talk about his girlfriend point blank period. It pissed him off that anyone he talked to always had to bring you up with the same damn question over and over again.

“Oh you’re dating now? I thought she was fucking Jungkook?”

“I heard Namjoon and her hooked up at the party last night, is that true?”

“No way dude, you’re going out with Seok’s girl? He was telling me the other night how he and Joon took turns.”

Sure he knew you got around a lot but he didn’t care that was your business, the more important thing was you were with him now and he was sure you weren’t capable of cheating. How could you? Not when you were the sweetest thing on this earth, you wouldn’t even harm a fly let alone think about being unfaithful. Chan learned to ignore the comments thrown at him, he knew you better than anyone else.

You seemed to be very popular, often attracting attention left and right because of your nice personality and your pretty face. Chan honestly felt like he had lucked out with you, you liked some things he liked, you shared some hobbies, and you listened to a few genres Chan liked. He was stuck in the honeymoon phase and he never wanted to wake up from it.

Chan however did find it a bit weird how..touchy and friendly his housemates seemed to be you. Yes he did know about the rumors of you and his housemates but he kind of didn’t believe them to be true. Maybe they were exaggerating? His housemates didn’t seem to say anything about the situation so maybe people had it all mixed up.. Right?

He starts observing how you interact with them whenever you come over. His eyes are watchful as you greet Hoseok at the door with a sweet smile on your face and a handful of cookies you baked. Chan stares at the seemingly innocent interaction, only getting up to intervene when he sees something odd.

“Hi Seokie,” you softly smile, “I baked some cookies for everyone, Channie told me you guys have been really stressed out from exams ‘n stuff.”

Hoseok grins, “Well aren’t you a sweetheart? Isn’t Chan so lucky to have someone like you? I mean your cookies aren’t the only sweet thing I like to eat.” He shoots a wink and reaches down to grab one, biting into it with a pleased hum.

You reach up to gently wipe the corner of Hoseok’s lips with your thumb, “Thank you sweetheart.” Hoseok slowly licks his lips.

Chan watches in pure silence, a little put off about the strange show of affection he’s seeing. “Okay Seok, me ‘n y/n are gonna head off now, you remember it’s movie night don’t you baby?” He gently pulls you by your waist to his side, wanting you as far away from Hoseok as possible.

“Oh yes! We’re gonna have a Scream marathon!” You excitedly buzz, “Bye Seokie,” you wave and let Chan guide you up the stairs with a possessive hand laid over your back. Chan glances one last time at Hoseok, finding him staring very intently, specifically your ass which sits so perfectly in your leggings. Hoseok actually fucking winks at him as Chan disappears upstairs.

The second time he realizes things aren’t right is the morning after you stay the night, no one is home except for Namjoon. Chan wakes up to a note on his nightstand telling him you’re downstairs making breakfast. The little hearts you drew make his heart flutter as he sleepily smiles and rolls out of bed.

As he makes his way down and around the corner he can hear those cute little giggles of yours. Reality shatters the moment and snaps him out of his daze when he hears Namjoon’s deep baritone voice.

Namjoon…?

Chan curiously peeks into the kitchen only to find you standing there in his oversized shirt he gave you the night before. If memory served him correctly, you went to bed in his shirt and with ONLY panties underneath.. His eyes widened, shocked to see Namjoon standing directly behind you pressed so closely as he opened the cabinet to reach for something high up on the shelf.

“Careful now shortie, don’t want you falling and hurting yourself.” Namjoon lazily smirks, passing the bowls you had asked him for, “Especially with you bouncing all over the place.” He hums, reaching down to smack your ass as he walks over to the fridge.

You voice your complaints with an angry pout, turning to say something when you see Chan. “Channie! You’re up, I made some pancakes and a fruit bowl.” You cheerfully say, “Sit, sit I’m just about to finish,” you say.

“You good there Channie?” Namjoon draws out with a tiny smirk, leaning up against the fridge with his arms crossed. “You look like you just saw a ghost or something.” His eyes briefly break contact to trail after you when you pass by him.

Chan nods, “I’m good,” he shoots you a tiny smile before looking back at Namjoon blankly, “all good.”

Something is definitely wrong by the third time he realizes there’s more than what meets the eye. It’s what people have to say about Jungkook when the little bubble he’s been cooped up in finally bursts. Chan doesn’t wanna hear it but he knows his brain will be nagging about it later on if he doesn’t clear things up once and for all.

“Jungkook? You mean the footballer you live with?” Hyunjin raises a brow in confusion, “Why do you wanna know about him and your girlfriend? Unless you’re like into that sorta stuff man.”

Chan sighs in exasperation, “No I’m not trying to say anything right now, I’m curious that’s all. Jungkook’s never mentioned any girl before and I’m wondering if he and y/n had history together or some shit, that’s all.”

Hyunjin has this look on his face like he doesn’t truly believe it, but lucky for Chan he doesn’t comment about it. “I heard a couple of things. Two semesters ago someone caught Jeon in his car fucking someone, no one was sure who it was but we all had a feeling it had to be y/n because he posted a like selfie with some girl’s hand in the frame and then y/n posted a pic of her inside someone’s car, it looked like JK’s so we all knew it was them two.” He shrugs.

“Ohh really?” Chan nods slowly, now that he thinks about it Jungkook did mention once or twice of a girl he was fucking on the low, said something about her being “the best piece of ass” he’s ever gotten. Thinking about it now makes Chan’s stomach curl in disgust and other unpleasant feelings.

“Yeah, but that was ages ago man you don’t really have anything to worry about now.” With that Chan’s left alone to wallow in his own thoughts.

The girl he’s been with for the past two months really fucked his friends before she landed on him.. He can’t exactly say he’s happy with the idea but if nothing was going on right now, he was fine. The past was past, you were with him now and nothing was going to change that fact.

He hopes.

Chan doesn’t think about it as much as he did before, if anything it’s long forgotten because he rather focus on the present rather than the past. He got over it and made peace with the idea of nothing going on. He blamed it on his damn insecurities.

For about two weeks Chan is in pure bliss with you. Your little dates carry on and surprisingly the comments people made died down. Hell he didn’t notice any weird shit on behalf of his other housemates who seemed to barely be at home whenever Chan brought you over. Seeing this as an opportunity he brings you with him one night, knowing that the guys were out for the night.

Things lead to another and pretty soon you’re both getting down and dirty in his sheets, closed away in the privacy of his bedroom. The perks? You could be as loud as you wanted, and Chan didn’t have to worry about anyone hearing you two go at it through the paper thin walls.

Chan had you laid back on the comforter, thighs wrapped around his midsection and hips a little elevated to strike that spongy spot that drove you crazy all the time. Your head was thrown back on the pillow with your eyes shut in bliss and lips formed in a tiny ‘o’ as moans and whimpers left you.

“C-Chan,” you mewled out, desperately clawing and twisting at the sheets, “so good.” Your breath hitched, eyes fluttering open to stare up at him.

Chan groans under his breath and re-adjusts his grip on your hips, getting a good grip as he plows into your squelching pussy. The sounds of his balls smacking against your ass ring in his ears, the bed creaks audibly against the wooden floor of his bedroom. The sounds were so filthy they were porn worthy.

“Fuck, you gonna cum baby?” He murmurs darkly, face twisting in pleasure as he feels you cunt clench down tightly around his shaft, making his cock throb weakly in response. “Can feel your little pussy gettin’ tighter and tighter for me.”

You moaned lewdly at his words and nod frantically, “Gonna cum–oooh..! R-Right there..!” You writhe on the bed, hips pushing up and squirming around so much you almost slip off his cock.

“Go ahead baby,” Chan moans, “cum on my cock.” He pants heavily, leaning down to smother you in a passionate kiss as his pace speeds up.

You wrap your arms around his neck with a loud moan, teetering on the edge of an orgasm. Chan can feel you getting close, and right before he can reach down to rub at your swollen nub he hears the door click open and Jungkook’s loud laughter.

“Chan, you gotta check this shit out–” Jungkook looks up and his eyes widen, “Holy fuck man, my bad.” He laughs harder.

Any pleasure Chan was feeling moments prior is now gone, he feels his cock even soften from the sound of Jungkook entering. He quickly throws a blanket over your naked form, glad he had been too impatient to take his boxers off. “Jungkook–” he sighs, “Can you step out? Not fucking cool,” he shoots a glare at Jungkook, making sure to cover your smaller frame with his own body.

“Sure, Channie,” Jungkook mocks, “whatever you say.” He turns to walk back out, turning his head over his shoulder to shoot you a smirk, “So you wear lace now?” Chan’s face burns with both anger and embarrassment after Jungkook pointed out the panties set lying on his floor nearby the door. “Don’t get ya panties in a twist, I’m goin’.” Jungkook shuts the door behind him.

A long sigh leaves Chan and he turns to look over at you apologetically, “I forgot to lock the door dammit.” He rubs his face in frustration, irritated that he was reminded of the shit he didn’t want to be thinking about.

“It’s okay Channie,” you sit up, sheets around your body as you gently smooch his cheek, “I still enjoyed tonight with you.” You smile softly.

“Yeah… I did too,” Chan smiles back, trying not to look too dejected.

He confronts Jungkook a few days later. He’s sitting in the living room waiting for Jungkook to come home. He had sent a message and Jungkook simply replied that he’d be home in a few.

“You wanted to talk?” Jungkook says, tossing the keys into a bowl by the door as he sets his drink down, “What’s up?” He grunts, kicking his shoes off and going to sit in the living room across from Chan.

Chan notes the faint sweat on Jungkook’s face, shirt rolled up at the sleeves to show off his defined muscles which made the older look more intimidating. “The other night, you need to knock and I mean it Kook because you don’t know if I’m changing or y/n is not decent or anything and I don’t want shit to happen between us because what happened was fucking inappropriate and I didn’t like that shit. At all.” He folds his arms across his chest with a glare.

Jungkook hums, “Okay.”

“Okay? Is that all?” Chan raises a brow.

Jungkook shrugs, “You wanna know something Chan?” He says calmly and sits with his arms spread over the back of the couch, manspreading with a nonchalant attitude. “With a beautiful ass like that I wouldn’t dream of gatekeeping it from the entire world, I mean, it’s always a good feeling to show the others what they wished they had. So congrats on your win, not everyday someone lands a girl like y/n.”

“Jungkook what the fuck are you on?” Chan frowns.

“Nothing, I’m just being honest with you. I could care less if you’re feeling threatened by me or the guys. I see the way it kills you on the inside hearing all the shit they say about your precious y/n. Does that piss you off Channie? Thinking about how she fucked the three of us before she got to you?” He tilts his head to the side with mischief twinkling in his eyes.

Chan doesn’t think he can reply without having an outburst of some sort, he’s getting more pissed by the second. Any more of Jungkook’s crude talking and Chan thinks he’s going to explode from the anger…and he does NOT want to be the one to fight Jungkook, has anyone seen him in the gym?

“I’m gonna let you in on a little secret,” Jungkook smirks, taking a seat next to Chan, “there isn’t nothing about y/n that we haven’t seen already, so the next time you fuck her in the house, remember I once had my dick in there too.” He grins, “Tell her throat I said hi,” he chuckles quietly, getting off of the sofa and disappearing up the stairs.

Chan sits there with a blank stare, fists clenched tightly in his lap as he tries to control his breathing. In, out, in, out. He slumps in his seat, arm thrown over his face as he grumbles. That didn’t go as fucking planned, if anything Jungkook bitched him out without even having to try!

“Fuck,” he sighs longly, he decides he can’t wallow in self pity and rises off the couch.

Right as he steps outside of the house his phone buzzes. Curiously he unlocks his phone and opens the messages (which conveniently was from Jungkook). A thumbnail of a video sits innocently in the chat, Chan’s stomach drops because he knows what this is. His hands shake as he presses on the video.

Jungkook was a really nice guy, he teased you a lot and was a bit cocky but it added to his charms. You meet through a mutual friend, who you feel sorry for because her plans to hook up with Jungkook seemed to fly out the window the moment he lays eyes on you. Jungkook makes it painfully obvious that the only person he was taking home was going to be you.

He fucked you so good you couldn’t even feel your legs afterwards, it was ten out of ten and you could see yourself coming back again. It turned into a little dick appointment situation, meeting up whenever either one of you wanted to fuck. Whether it be in the morning of afternoon or dead in the night it didn’t matter, somehow you guys always ended up fucking.

You felt comfortable enough with him to post about it without exactly letting anyone know it was Jungkook you were fucking. Jungkook did the same, often asking to record and take pictures while he was hitting it from the back or balls deep inside of you.

One night you will never forget is when Jungkook decides to record you in his car, the video itself is about forty minutes long, and that’s what he decided to capture (your fucking went on much longer than that). The first scene is shot with his phone propped up on the dashboard, facing the driver's seat.

You’re sitting in his lap grinding and rocking your hips in tiny circles around his throbbing wet cock. Jungkook had his arms wrapped tightly around your back as he held you close to him while you fucked yourself silly on his cock. Loud whimpers and little “uh’s” escaped your lips. The sound of your wet pussy drooling over his cock and the back of your thighs smacking into him resonated throughout the whole car.

Jungkook had one hand buried in your hair, gripping it tightly as he yanked your head back while you rode him. His eyes flickered past your shoulder and into the camera as he smirked darkly, toying with his lip ring while you frantically moved your hips.

“Mmm..! Ooh, right there,” you pant out in pleasure, eyes stinging from the pleasure and pleasant ache you feel from him yanking on your hair. Your hips slow down and swivel in small circles so you can feel his thick cock rub up against your walls in a delicious angle that has you seeing stars.

Jungkook focuses his attention right back to you and grunts softly, “There you go, good girl.” He uses his other hand to grip your hip as he helps you grind in smooth circles on his cock. “Shit,” he sighs, relaxing into the seat and letting his head roll back on the headrest.

Your arms come up to wrap around his neck, you hide yourself away in the crook of his neck and desperately roll your hips. Soft little moans and needy whines leave you every so often, the windows of the car have fogged up by now and the music playing from the radio is merely background noise.

Everytime you push your hips back you feel the soaked material of Jungkook’s sweats given that he hadn’t bothered with slipping them past his thighs. You shiver pleasantly when his hot breath hovers over your hardened nipples. He encloses one of the sensitive buds in his mouth, suckling gently and rolling his tongue around.

“Mmm..!” You arch your back even more, desperately chasing after the pleasure erupting in your chest area. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind you pushing your soft tits in his face as he merely buries himself away in your chest while you ride him like your life depends on it.

After getting you to cum a couple of times he moves you two to the backseat. He’s holding his phone above you and recording the way your ass smacks against his hips. There’s a much louder slapping sound since he’s in control of the pace now, he wants you to feel this fucking for days to come.

“Greedy little thing you are, can’t seem to get enough of my cock can you?” Jungkook pants softly while slapping his hips against you, “Not gonna answer? Did I fuck you stupid already baby? Answer me,” he slaps your ass, “go on, tell me how good your ‘Jungkookie’ fucks you.” He grins, his laughter coming out breathless and dazed.

“ ‘s not enough, want it more–deeper, harder.” You gasp out, hands resting above you on the window to keep you grounded while he fucked your brains out, “Can feel it so deep inside,” you breathily moan, eyes slipping shut as his cock bumps into that spongy senstive spot inside of you, “mmmm–there–wanna cum again.” Your lips part, face scrunching cutely in pleasure as your body begins to go slack.

Jungkook softly moans and aims the camera down where you’re both connected. He increases the speed of his thrusts and angles his hips to keep hitting your sweet spot. He feels your pussy tighten and pulse around his cock, sending small shivers down his spine.

“Look up for me baby, say hi to the camera,” Jungkook licks his lips.

You tilt your head up with hooded and dazed eyes, moans tumbling from your lips and a little bit of drool slipping out the corner of your lips. Your breath hitches quietly, pouty lips parting once more as the noises you make increase in pitch. “There you go, show everyone what a slut you are for cock,” he smirks and reaches down with his tattooed hand to grab your chin and face you towards him.

“Oh fuck! Yes, yes..!” Chan sits there in his car with his jaw dropped, watching the now shaky video as Jungkook presumably fucks you into next week with how hard he’s going. Bitter humiliation sits in the pits of his belly.

Over the next few weeks Chan distances himself from everything really. He doesn’t know how he’s going to look at you now knowing the shit that happened with Jungkook. It was one thing to sit and listen to all these people talk about you two but it was a whole different story seeing it on video. Truly crushed his dignity and maybe his ego.

You of course had asked him if anything was wrong but Chan said the same thing, “No babe, just tired and burnt out from school stuff I got going.” And you bought it everytime. He felt bad yes but at the same time he felt like he just needed a little bit of space, he didn’t want to take his anger out on you because you didn’t deserve any of that.

Things back at the house seemed tense, Jungkook looked smug whenever he saw Chan and well, Chan didn’t have the energy to fight over shit like this. One would see it as him accepting that he was a bitch but Chan thought about it differently. Sure he felt extremely disrespected but what else could he do? He can’t reverse time and change the past.

Namjoon hadn’t bothered to comment much (the most he offered was “shit’s childish”) and Hoseok well he kind of tried to play mediator of the situation. He would make some jokes here and there to ease the tension in the room but Jungkook didn’t care. Jungkook was the most relaxed, and it irked Chan to no end how nonchalant he was about this, like if he didn’t show someone a video of him pounding their girlfriend.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Hoseok hums, shooting him that bright little smile he always gave everyone. “You’ve been oddly quiet for weeks now Chan.”

Chan looks at the elder with a quiet hum, “Nothing much Seok, just have a lot on my mind right now. And if you’re wondering, no I'm not upset with Jungkook or anything so you can rest easy. There won’t be a fight or anything like that.” He throws his head back and lets it hang off the couch, a long sigh escaping.

“Your face says otherwise.” Hoseok smirks.

“Listen, I don’t mean this in a bad way or anything but I’d appreciate it if you a) stop bringing this up about Jungkook and b) knock whatever weird fucking obsession you have with my girlfriend off. It’s fucking weird that you guys talk about her, make these smart ass comments, and eye fuck her when I’m right there. I get it, you guys fucked in the past but we’re in a relationship and I’d very much like for you to respect it.” He glares back, not realizing his voice rose with every word he spoke.

Hoseok stares at him for a few minutes with no expression on his face, and Chan at first thinks he fucked up but then the unexpected happens. The fucker laughs. He watches Hoseok throw his head back, shoulders shaking as he slaps his knee a couple of times.

“What the fuck is so funny?” Chan grits his teeth.

“Damn ‘Channie’ I thought you were better than this, you should feel happy she chose to be with you. You’re the mannnn,” he playfully hits Chan on the side, “I mean, she tastes as good as she looks.” He licks his lips, staring into Chan’s eyes unapologetically. “Does she still wear those pink panties of hers? You know which ones, little white bow and lacey trim…”

Chan knows exactly which ones he’s referring to. His fists clench in his lap tightly, he silently rages in his spot but it doesn't deter Hoseok. “I bet she still holds your head down right when she’s about to cum,” his voice drops to a husky whisper, “does this little thing with her hips, practically smothering you with her pussy.” Chan snaps his head towards Hoseok, watching as the usually playful man taunts and teases him.

“Oh I bet she does.” He grins, “Funny…she used to do the same with me.” He gets up and walks away with no other words. Chan stares ahead at the wall with a blank look and a fiery anger running through his veins.

Hoseok was buried between your soft thighs, licking and sucking at your swollen clit with his fingers buried knuckle deep inside of your sopping wet pussy. Moans and whimpers tumbled freely from your lips, your head was thrown back with your lips parted and expression twisted into one of pure pleasure and bliss.

His fingers felt so good, stretching and filling your pussy to the brim. He stroked over your g-spot repeatedly, pairing his strokes with powerful sucks on your clit. It only had you dripping even more, thighs shaky and pussy leaking even more for him. “Seok,” you whimper, squirming around and lifting your hips as if you were offering your pussy up on a silver platter.

Hoseok took the bait, happily slurping away with his eyes closed as if he were in pleasure just being there between your soft thighs. Your cunt pulsed around his fingers, the pleasure sat hot in the pits of your belly. Hoseok was hellbent on getting you to gush because he wouldn’t let up on your g-spot.

“Fuck,” he softly pants against your soft pussy, “listen to you, absolutely fuckin’ soaked around my fingers.” He grins licking his lips, “You gonna squirt around my fingers like a good girl?”

His fingers start moving rapidly, the squelching noises get louder and tiny bits of slick spurt out from the sides of his fingers as he fucks them in and out. Your mouth falls open, you’re breathless as you weakly grip the bed sheets tightly. “Seok..!”

“That’s it, cum on my fingers and make a mess for me baby, gonna have you suck ‘em clean for me. ‘s what good girls do, isn’t that right?” He grins.

“Y-Yes..!” You gasp out.

Hoseok goes back down to take your clit in his mouth again, sucking harder than before. It sends a tremor down your spine and you cry out weakly, pussy squirting around his fingers. He moans for extra measure, causing you to weakly moan out for him to stop because it was getting to be too much.

“Good girl,” he pulls back and lifts his wet fingers, “now clean ‘em.”

Chan feels like he could fucking explode any minute now, everyone is walking around on eggshells in the damn house and of course Hoseok and Jungkook will stick together. Chan isn’t so sure about where Namjoon stands in all of this but he’s pretty certain he’ll side with his two friends on this one. Chan doesn’t care anymore, in fact he was already planning on leaving.

Call him a coward but he wasn’t going to waste his breath fighting, hell he wasn’t even sure y/n gave a shit about what was going on. Sometimes it made him feel like there was something he wasn’t seeing. Like this was some sort of test or a sick joke on their end, and as much as he didn’t wanna think about the possibility of you also playing sick games with him it was hard.

He hadn’t had much time to sit and talk with Namjoon given that there was tension in the house but Chan was pretty surprised to see Namjoon at home for once. These days it seemed like he was out more often to avoid the conflicts at home. It was even more surprising when Namjoon spoke to him.

“What’s up with you?” Namjoon nods his head at him, “Feels like we haven’t talked in a hot minute.”

Chan shrugs, “Been busy with work, school, you know how it is.” He replies back, busying himself with going through the fridge for his gatorade.

“You know this shit’s childish,” there it was, leave it to Namjoon to be the one to address the elephant in the room, “whatever the hell you got goin with Kook and Seok is gonna blow over pretty soon. I’m only saying this in case you guys hash it out in the yard and beat eachother up over something stupid.” He shrugs.

“And what would you classify as stupid? How is me calling them out for their weird ass behavior childish. No, you see I’m not stupid enough to fight over it but don’t you fucking think maybe I should speak up about it? It’s my fucking girlfriend we’re talking about, of course you would see me in the wrong because they’re your fucking friends.” He slams the fridge door a little harder then he intended to.

Namjoon raises a brow, “And what you gonna do about it?” He stands, rounding the table like a predator with narrowed eyes and an intense gaze, “Listen, the reality here is your girl fucked everyone in this house, simple as that. She’s been on Jungkook’s dick, Hoseok’s and mine. And if I fucking wanted to I’d have her hanging off my dick right here and right now in front of your face. And you wouldn’t do anything about it because you’re a little bitch who gets cucked in front of your damn face.” He stands in front of Chan now, staring down at him with his tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

Chan glares back, but Namjoon sets a hand on his shoulder, “Do me a favor and get some air, I can’t guarantee you things will be pretty if you stay. Unless you want me to show you just how well she takes my cock.”

You pull back from his cock with a low pop, tongue swirling and collecting the beads of precum around his tip. Namjoon’s grip tightens in your hair, cock weakly throbbing because the head of his cock was a sensitive area for him. You cheekily dig your tongue into his slit to get a reaction out of him.

“Oh fuck,” he gasps out, hips jumping once more in surprise, “just like that..” He moans.

You take his cock into your mouth once more and start bobbing your head. You use your hands to twist and stroke his shaft. His moans rise in volume as the hand in your hair starts guiding you up and down his cock. Your eyes water occasionally from the feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat.

“Take it like a good girl baby, gonna cum down your throat.. You gonna swallow like a good girl?” He rasps out. You eagerly nod and reach down to cup his balls, massaging them gently while you try to suck the soul out of him.

Namjoon’s hips stutter in their movements when he gets closer to coming undone. He groans louder and holds your head still to fuck up into your mouth. “Fuck, fuck.” He moans out as he throws his head back. You feel his cock twitch and throb in your mouth and you cheekily moan to cause vibrations.

He comes undone, cum spilling down your throat, “Fuckkkkk,” he whispers out, “so good for me baby..” he strokes over your head and keeps your head down until he’s done coming. “Go on and clean the mess you made, I don’t want to see not one drop go to waste.”

Chan heads straight over to your place. On the way he tries to calm himself down but everytime he thinks about the conversation earlier he ends up heated all over again. “Fuck!” Chan yells in anger as he hits the steering wheel angrily.

“Chan?” Your sweet voice interrupts his thoughts, “I was asking if you wanted me to order some pizza and we can go pick it up?” You rub his back gently, comforting even, “Is everything okay?”

Chan shakes his head with a long sigh, burying his face in his hands as he looks over at you, “Some shit happened earlier but I’m fine now,” he waves you off, “call, call, I’m gonna use the restroom real quick.” He murmurs and gets up.

He felt even more pathetic that he couldn’t talk to you about what he was going through. Then again what could you do? You weren’t even their friends so it wasn’t like you could waltz in there and tell them off or something. You didn’t have a clue what was happening inside the house since Chan wasn’t bringing you around.

Chan closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “You got this.” He whispered and freshened up a bit before heading back out to you.

“Channie, I ordered the pizza, it’s gonna be ready in about fifteen minutes or so I think.” You say from inside the kitchen where you’re pouring him a glass of water, “Here sit, sit, you look really tense and stuff.”

“Thanks baby,” He smiles softly, all tension leaving his body since he couldn’t really stay mad around you. “How was your day?”

You shrug cutely, “Nothing too special since I went to class and after I just worked on my paper with Jungkook.”

Chan pauses, “Jungkook?” when you nod he speaks again, “Why?”

“We have the same class.” You reply softly.

Chan grips the cup a bit tighter, “No.. I mean why are you hanging around him? I told you it made me uncomfortable that you hang out with him when I’m not around.” He’s about to pop a fucking vessel with how angry he is.

You look unfazed, “Jungkook and I are friends,” you simply say, “I didn’t realize you were on such bad terms with him or something? Did anything happen for you to not like him?”

“Did anything happen?! Oh I don’t know y/n I’ve been fucking getting ganged up on by him and the guys, they’re all telling me what a hot piece of ass I got as a girlfriend! You think that’s something to get angry over? Are you gonna fucking sit there and tell me not to worry because you’re just friends?” He blows up.

Your lips part in surprise, eyes widening in awe as you listen to him rant angrily. “I tolerated enough when it came to them and you, I get it you all fucked and you fucking liked so what?! What the hell do you want me to do about it? Give you a fucking cookie and say good job?!”

His chest rises up and down in anger as he comes down from the rush. He stares down at you with pleading eyes, he wants you to say something. Anything. He just wants to put everything past him now.. Your lips part and you go to say something when he suddenly hears clapping behind you. “What the.” Chan frowns.

He looks over your shoulder and his heart drops to his ass. Jungkook comes out with a smug little smile on his lips as he takes a seat on the coffee table next to where you’re standing. “What a show you put on,” Jungkook whistles in amusement as he slithers an arm around your legs and tugs you closer to him, “didn’t know it had you bothered like that.”

“y/n what the fuck is going on?” Chan seethes, “Why the fuck is he here? Are you cheating on me with him, is that it?”

You stare at him with those sweet little puppy eyes of yours, pout forming on your lips as you gently reach over to caress Jungkook’s hair, sending Chan into a state of disbelief. “No, I’m not cheating on you. I thought you would have noticed by now, seems like you don’t pay enough attention.”

“Notice what?” He grits his teeth.

Jungkook chuckles, “Why do you think people call her Hoseok’s girl? Or my girl? Or Joon’s?” He sits back with a smug smirk, “I know you noticed how friendly we all were with each other. Listen, Chan buddy, if you ever thought you had y/n you were dead wrong. You see we love our baby, and if she says she wants to fuck you then she’s gonna fuck you simple as that. We’ve always let our girl have her fun because at the end of the day she comes back to us.” He grins.

You hum softly, “It’s fair game Channie, I do what I want but I’m still theirs. Joonie and the boys like to mess around with the guys though.. Surprised you lasted this long.”

It dawns on him this was all a sick game between the four of you. Chan stares in horror and disbelief, “You guys are fucking psychos..” He whispers.

“We’ll see you around… Channie.” Jungkook smirks.

Chan turns to you but you’re more focused on brushing Jungkook’s hair, “Pity Kookie, I actually liked this one.” You murmur softly without offering a single glance at Chan.

Chan fucking hates his life.

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @sxtaep ( for u bby )

#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts hoseok #bts jungkook #jung hoseok #hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #namjoon smut #bts namjoon #kim namjoon #namjoon x reader

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onyourhyuck · 9 months

Text

Animal Instinct. | NCT SERIES

Title: PROLOGUE ‘Sour Grapes.’

— Prologue: “They don’t speak to people unless they want one thing from them. And they pick their prey very carefully. They don’t go for everyone.”

— Summary: You are a marine biologist. You should be able to understand animals and their way of living. When you encounter a new society in a bar under the name ‘Sour Grapes’ you find yourself in a troubling situation with seven different men. Seven different animals.

— Genre: Smut with plot. Minors dni. Fantasy with modern timeline. Female!reader. Secondary genders (but with animals) dreamies are complete red flags. Dub-con. Everything is very dark romance related. Nothing here is for the weak. Everything is just pure filth. It gets progressively worse and worse. Multiple orgasms. Overstimulation. Pet names such as ‘my pretty who’re’ or ‘princess’ — minor hair pulling, blowjob male receiving. Fingering (female receiving) and sex tape mentioned. Breeding kink is a common theme here. Possessiveness.

— Notes:

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There was a new bar that took everyone’s attention and money away. Your friends have been nonstop talking about this new secret bar that is hidden away from everyone by a password. You wonder what the big deal was about it. It just sounded like a stupid bar to you. Apparently only ‘special’ guests could enter this bar. Your friend, Ningning has claimed that she knows what the password to the bar is, and that she will need to take a friend with her.

Which explains why you’re in Ningning’s car with the most absolute deadpanned expression when you see this empty isolating road ahead and the parking lot you’re now at.

You let out a sigh. “Ningning no offence but bars are meant to be welcoming. This looks like a horror movie in front of me.” The building that stood out to the both of you was looking bleak and dark from the darkness sorrowing it. You have a bad stomachache from all of this.

Your friend turns to you with a begging expression to make you come with her, because let’s be honest, Ningning wouldn’t want to go alone to this bar that no one has heard about. “Y/n please just trust me. The guy I was supposed to meet up with told me the password to this bar. I cant go along without you.”

“You can’t or you won’t?” You remark back furrowing your eyebrows in annoyance. You eventually gave in after five seconds of whining from Ningning because you can’t stand this at all.

Scowling out of the car with your friend you follow her inside with the least enthusiasm for partying tonight as well. Unlike Ningning you actually don’t have this much free time.

“If I see something weird I’m getting out of here and calling the police, Ning.” You tell her, your voice coming out more sternly.

But she was your friend and you love her. You can’t just leave her to go to this weird scam-looking bar alone. Good knows what could’ve happened to her if you didn’t come with her.

Ningning gave you a small smile. “Yeah! Deal.”

The building looked like it was probably abandoned for many years. The entrance itself gave you spooky vibes and you hated it. The girl in front of you was the first one to approach the singular bookshelf on the wall guided against the wall. Your eyes stare blankly at the set up.

You saw your friend touching every book on the shelf and you let out a sigh and a laugh at the same time. This was ridiculous.

“Don’t tell me you’re looking for a secret book-lever?” You mumble behind Ningning who gave a very optimistic smile. “Yeah. The guy said the passcode will work if we find the book that is the right one.”

You sigh. “This is a lot of effort to go through just to drink and find yourself a fling isn’t it?” You had a point. There was definitely something going around here that you’re missing. Maybe some information that your friend wasn’t telling you?

Few seconds later Ningning found the reddish book on the bookshelf stand that had peeked out and she pulled it out, only to find it reattach and the whole bookshelf moving to the left. Revealing a secret door. Your eyes widen at Ningning; because for a moment or two you’ve been doubting this whole bookshelf thing. Ningning gave you a proud-eating smirk which made you automatically scowl and roll your eyes. You walk ahead and Ningning followed behind you. The dark corridor welcomed both of you and the sound of bar music came in louder and louder. The more you both walked you’d see two patrolling bar security guards at the door.

Your feet tried to past them but they shoulders block. One gruff man gave you an intimidating look. “Password.” He said to you.

Ningning pulls you back a little. She knows you’d probably start an argument with someone tonight, you’re kind of like a magnet for starting fights.

“Green tea.” She said to the guards. You stare in disbelief when the two guards let Ningning and you pass through once the secret password was said.

You see, you don’t understand humans. But you understand animals on many levels. Humans are just something too complex for you to figure out. Ningning here was very confusing. She wasn’t telling you anything about this place.

But you had to admit. The bar looks expensive. Luxurious even. There was something so lush about this bar you couldn’t put your tongue on it. Everyone seems like they are a movie star. Or perhaps singers even.

Pushing through the crowd. Ningning instantly ordered a drink at the bar. The handsome man with a pale thinly skin and alerting brown alluring eyes pulled you closer. The bar owner tending to the drinks had really beautiful thick hair. There was a mixture of proud and sweetness about this guy. He looks like he has this whole place together.

“Two martini’s please.” Ningning told. Jaehyun gave her a glance and a single nod with a charming smirk. He turned around making the two drinks for you and Ningning.

You whisper to your friend. “This whole place is weird vibes Ning. What’s so special about this place?” You don’t understand why she was so eager to come here.

Your friend gave you a sympathetic response but she didn’t seem to find this all so suspicious like you. Sometimes you analyse things too much for her own liking. “I just heard it amongst people at my workplace. So I wanted to try it out.” Ningning said with a shrug.

The two glasses were plopped down and your head turns to the martini then to the guy with a small glance you take the martini to sip.

Your friend’s answer was so vague to be honest. So much effort just to find out about this bar?

Reaching for your phone you wanted to check if anyone has been texting you. To your answer you find out the signal here was completely nonexistent and crap. You grumble and Ningning saw you struggling. She furrows her eyebrows when you curse.

“Does this bar have no wifi signal or what?” You said with your tone of voice becoming frustrated. You put your phone down when Jaehyun reached over. “Actually phones aren’t allowed in this bar, miss.” He explained, even though his handsome face was definitely a distraction from how annoying this rule was.

“What? No phone. Isn’t that a bit weird and suspicious.” You grumble not understanding what kind of a rule was this?

Ningning switched glances between Jaehyun and you. You were watching him with a double sided glare like you were a mirror reflecting how much you hated this rule so much.

Jaehyun smirks and pulls back. “At Sour Grape’s whatever happens stays here. Therefore no phones. Just enjoy your night.” He reassures.

It sounds like everyone had something to hide what was was it?

Deciding to let your eyes wonder around the whole bar to check out what could take your interest; you found your eyes gravitating to a specific table of seven guys seated like they own the whole place. Crouching between girls. You find yourself wondering what the whole deal was with them.

You turn to the bar owner, Jaehyun was cleaning a few glasses with a cloth. He wore this white top with a black vest over and a tie neatly over it. The hair was slick back too.

“What are those guys all doing? They look like they own the whole damn place.”

Jaehyun laughs at your words. “Because they do. They are my main clients who make this whole bar popular.”

You furrow your eyebrows turning back to watching the group of men seating down. They all had a specialised accessory with an animal of their choice. You don’t understand why. But all you could see was that it somehow matches their appearance.

He leans close now, he decided to give you a little introduction to who runs this whole place like it is their kingdom.

“Let me explain to you who they are.” He softly said and you nodded watching the group.

“That man is Mark Lee.” Jaehyun said it with some pride when the name comes out of his mouth. As if he was some sort of king. “He is what you call a womaniser I believe. No intentions of settling down. However he is loaded with money.”

A blonde guy sitting in the middle with his legs spread while a woman was on his lap in the middle, his hand sneaking around the waist to pull the beautiful woman closer. His eyes felt deadly and sharp. You feel like nearly as a prey would when watching this encounter. On his right hand was a shiny silver ring on his middle finger — with a tiger face shaped on it. Engraved.

Your eyes move to the right. Jaehyun saw you checking out the guy next to Mark now.

Next to the man was a sickly pale man. He looks as cold as ice to you; it shouldn’t be possible to look this pale without looking like the clouds in the sky itself. However his facial expressions were the least exciting. He looks like he did not have intentions of getting woman. A necklace was hanging around his neck in shape of a wolf.

“That is Lee Jeno.” He said to you with a smirk. “This guy is probably the least you likely will ever meet. Jeno is a tough one to grasp. He’s very loyal to Mark and his friends. He doesn’t even show slightest interest in women.”

You roll your eyes. “Why is that? Is he scared of women?”

Jaehyun grinned shrugging. “Pack law maybe?”

Furrowing your eyebrows at the comment you tried to not think much of this. Perhaps it was a metaphor but you can’t really put your finger on why he said something like that.

Your attitude towards the group was getting more and more conflicting. You wanted to know more about the rest of them.

“Who is the guy standing up over there?” You try to point your eyes at the man standing up next to the couch that all the other men were sitting together. Jaehyun looks over there.

“Zhong Chenle, he is a reliable guy with source of information from everywhere.” Jaehyun smirks at you and you raise your eyebrows scoffing.

“Why?” You question. Jaehyun responded with an obvious tone. “Because he’s rich. They all are.”

Chenle wore the most expensive clothing you’d have to be honest. He wore and extended his beauty with all his money he could afford it with. But what caught your eye at the end was this hanging shark tooth down his ears.

Sudden arm around Chenle was wrapped by a much larger and bigger man in height with pale skin and black hair. Darkly covered clothes and makeup on his face. A choker was around the guy’s neck with a spider in the middle showing off.

“And that guy with Chenle?” You grumble staring the taller boy down.

Jaehyun puts the drinking glass down, lifting up his head over the bar. “Park Jisung. Chenle’s best friend; he’s also deadly. I don’t think you should go near him unless you want him to completely destroy you.”

“You make it sound like he’s a killer.” You roll your eyes not taking whatever he said about Jisung or the others too seriously.

Jaehyun scoffs. “You never know.” He points out and then leans over pointing over to three other guys that were speaking together as they sat down at the table table with the others.

“Those three are always together.” He explained to you and your head turns to analyse the other three people.

Sun kissed man with brunette hair and beautiful brown eyes with black moles; wearing a bear shaped pendant down his neck while discussing something with his two friends. Lee Haechan.

In the middle a smaller frame but a sheepish man with beautiful hair and fox-like eyes made you look twice. He looks unreal if anything. With a lip piercing on the bottom lip, you swore you saw a fox tail on the lip piercing detail. Huang Renjun.

And then a man with a bracelet on his wrist, he looked to be the most troublesome and quiet person in the group. The snake bracelet on his arm intrigued you nonetheless. Na Jaemin.

They all wore animal charms which looked silly but at the same time you wonder if it meant something more?

“Why do they all wear those jewellery? I don’t understand why they have all those animals on them.”

Jaehyun wasn’t aware if you knew why this bar was such a high secrecy but he leans down and now got a real serious one on one with you. “Can you keep a secret?” He asked as his face told you that he was being serious.

The information he’s about to tell you will change your entire life forever.

“Yeah.” You slant back watching Jaehyun sit up with a grin at your response.

“Everyone in this bar knows this but you.” Jaehyun smartly points out. “What do they know?” You became wary of what this was all about. Suddenly your stomachache was back again as if it was a warning from whatever you were about to find out.

Jaehyun trails with a devilish look. “The reason Sour Grape’s is such a secret place to enter is because everyone in this place has evolved from different species of animals.”

“For example, most people like you who evolve from monkeys exist in this world. But there are people who evolved from others.”

He whispers back pulling away to show you his arm bracelet with horses on it. You raise your eyes from Jaehyun’s wrist and back to his face in disbelief. This wasn’t making enough sense to you.

“So you’re telling me you and the other guys came from animals that weren’t monkeys? What kind of logic is that.” You grumble feeling that maybe you’re drunk and he was fooling around with you.

Jaehyun gave you a light shrug with his shoulders. “You said you can keep a secret. You can’t tell this to anyone.”

“Hyung pass me a bottle. You know what I want the usual.” A dark deep and striking tone alerts me from behind as if I’ve never heard any footsteps coming from behind me. The tall domineering man next to my shoulder peeking down at the bar. He saw my intense gaze fixated on him. Mark turns around watching my look with a bit of haste. “And you are miss? Do I have something on my face?”

You could practically pass out from the way he is watching you like you are just some thing, a bug that could be squished by the size of his palm. “No…I…”

The bottle being placed down made you flinched. Somehow all the things Jaehyun said to you now makes sense. Mark had a look of a tiger behind his eyes. He wasn’t no cub. He was a fully grown animal in a human body. It made you scared to even look the other way.

Watching him leave with the bottle in hand. Jaehyun knew by your expression that you finally found some truth to his story.

You look down at your hands. “How do i get to speak to him?”

You hate to admit it but you want to meet them all. You want to analyse them; to get to know them. Somehow deep inside you’re willing to even try and befriend them.

Jaehyun gave you a laugh. “They don’t speak to people unless they want one thing from them. And they pick their prey very carefully. They don’t go for everyone.” You grumble at the bar owner. “Okay what’s that?”

An obvious tone was spoken again. “To sleep with you, nothing else.”

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank you. Reblog this fic and follow me for more it helps a girl out!

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m1ssunderstanding · 5 months

Text

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day Nine

Here’s the thing. Like, on one hand, Paul loves teaching. But on the other hand, I honestly think he’d be a terrible teacher. He’s genuinely trying to explain songwriting to this kid, and all I’m getting is that I should be able to just look at a piano and it’ll give me whatever I want. “So it’s really just . . .” *plays Martha My Dear* “. . . and from there, you know, like, um, there’s no – unless you stop yourself – there’s no stopping yourself.” Yes, thank you, Professor McCartney. Very informative. Good thing you’re a gorgeous genius because not a word of that lecture made any sense.

Seriously I am BEGging someone to write Paul and Ringo in the 20s as a cabaret duo! With Paul’s talents being songwriting, slutting it up, piano, and vocals and Ringo’s talents being tap-dancing, ventriloquist dummy impersonation, with the occasional piano, vocals, and sly winks. Maybe they meet George and John through organized crime, idk.

“They don’t just sort of come in your head, kind of thing?” “Yeah, sure. Fact, I had one this morning.” You know. As one does.

See, even Ringo’s on board with my plan. “Let’s make a silent movie.” And Paul. “In a club. That’s it. We’re in a band. We’re in a band, but we sell drugs.” And now they're stringing Paul up just for kicks. Maybe they could join the circus!

Literally the minute John starts being silly, Paul gets this fond look on his face and you can see the wheels turning like “quick, think of a way to get close to him.” And John’s into it. But they keep doing this seesaw thing and I can’t help but think how reminiscent it is of their dynamic as a whole.

“I see you’ve given up smoking, Richie.” “Yes, I have.” Reminds me of that classic, “I don’t even smoke,” thing. Seems like five-hundred years ago.

PLEASE tell me Peter Sellers and Ringo had a torrid love affair during the filming of The Magic Christian. The way Peter touches Ringo’s hair and his face! Ringo being a gentleman and getting Peter a chair! And I mean there’s plenty of queer coding between them in the film.

But also laughing my ass off at Peter’s reaction to their song-titles/lyrics/gibberish/other references code.

Yoko, you’re stone-cold and hilarious. “Or what we haven’t.” I honestly have mad respect for her complete disregard/disdain for the Beatles and their art only because that’s how they treat hers for the most part. But girl. You’re married to one of them. He genuinely does love them and what he does with them and you’ve got to respect that or go find someone else, you know?

Also, Paul does Not appreciate the attitude. “Or we’ll just sort of sit here and allow ourselves to be embarrassed. ‘Number nine . . .”

Aaand, just like that, Peter Sellers “must be off.” He lasted all of 1 minute 26 seconds. Weak. George and Ringo lasted fifteen years.

MLH is literally that annoying person that asks you a serious question about yourself just so he can use you as a segue to talk about his problems.

John: just recovering from the day, you know. Yoko: from the night. John: embarrassed (you have no right, dude, you literally played your sex tape for everyone like two weeks ago) Paul: Did not want that image, thanks very much.

It actually KILLS me though that we’ll never understand their code. Paul and Ringo will take it to their graves and no one else knows it and any footage like this we’ve got, and any code songs, will just be mostly uninterpretable for all time.

Okay these few minutes here are soooo special to me. It’s John at his peak lovely, sweet, gentle, kind self. He makes a joke at which Paul can only nod darkly which makes John realize just how bad of a place Paul’s in.

Paul wants them to get to work “achieve something every day.” But John knows he’s not in a good headspace to work and it’ll be shit and then Paul will spiral even more. So, he turns up the humor until Paul is sufficiently cheered.

And then, he says. “Guitars? I thought that’s what they do.” And Paul’s stammering. “Oh, that is what they do, but–” John stands up, does a little head-tilt toward the instruments. “Come on, I’ll even show you about half a song I was writing. Come on.” That last in the tenderest, most coaxing voice. It’s just soooo. Like. We talk a lot about Paul ‘handling’ John, and he did. But John sure knows how to handle Paul.

I SO wish they’d have done something with “Madman”. It’s so fun!! Every single song in this era I will go to bat for, no question.

Ringo’s little hug for Paul!!!! I can’t.

#paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #get back

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dawnagustd · 2 years

Text

encore || jhs (18+)

Part of the Jack N’ Jill Series: Encore | Danger! | Party Time

⇢ Drabbles: Kink Hours Drabble

⤏ playlist: Mesmerize by Ja Rule & Ashanti(I’ve decided that this is one of their theme songs) | What If by J-Hope | When I See U by Fantasia | Naughty Girl Remix by Beyoncé ft. Lil Flip

Story Guide: This installment takes place before Danger! and Party Time. However, it can probably be read out of order or as a standalone if you wish to read that way.

“Keep your hand flat. I’m almost done,” you stress as you secure the bandage with some tape.

It’s not the best work, but you had limited supplies in the band’s first aid kit. If you’d known it was this scarce, you would have stocked it up with supplies. You can never be too careful when it comes to safety.

“Why did you hit him anyway?”

Hoseok stares straight ahead, zoned out with his left knee bouncing up and down. A tick of his that only appears when he’s angry or anxious.

You call his name and tap his arm, snapping him out of it and regaining his attention.

“Hm?” he hums.

With an eye roll, you repeat yourself.

“I was talking about Viper. Why’d you hit him in the first place?” you ask, running your thumb over the dressing to see if it’s sturdy enough to last through the performance. He winces when you come in contact with his knuckle. “Sorry.”

“You’re good. And it’s just some bullshit. Don’t worry about it,” he insists.

But you aren’t dumb.

“It was about me, wasn’t it?”

When Hoseok’s eyes widen, you get your answer.

“Hey, it’s nothing,” he lies.

You turn away from him, looking at your nails to distract yourself from the ugly truth of your presence here. They’ll never like you, so why even try?

“Maybe I should stop coming around,” you suggest. “This isn’t worth it.”

He’s behind you before you can even finish speaking, turning you around so he can see your face.

“Stop that, all right. I asked you to be here, and they have to accept that.”

You nod, but you still aren’t feeling any better about it. You don’t care much about what people think, but you don’t want friends fighting over you. It makes you feel so shitty.

“Look at me,” he requests, then uses his finger to tilt your chin up. In moments like this, you must remind yourself to take a step back. Feeding into any thoughts of Hoseok being more than a friend is dangerous, and you know you shouldn’t do it. “I want you around. That’s all that should matter—”

The door bursts open, revealing the band’s bass player, Ty.

“Jay, we got a problem.”

The look on his face indicates that something is wrong.

Hoseok scoffs. “We,” he points between himself and the man standing at the door, “sure do.”

“Uhh, sorry, bro. But there really is a huge problem,” he informs.

“Okay, spit it out. I don’t have all night.” Hoseok’s annoyance has him all tensed up, and you absentmindedly place your hand on his back, relieving some of the pressure momentarily.

Ty gazes at the site with curious eyes but thankfully asks no questions because you have no explanation on why you did it or why he actually relaxed under your touch.

“Well, um…Viper just quit, and we’ve got ten minutes until showtime,” Ty finally confesses.

Hoseok doesn’t bat an eye. However, your stomach drops to the floor. This isn’t good. Now you’ll definitely be kicked out of the circle. Viper’s the band’s drummer. They can’t perform without him.

You’re about to open your mouth to offer an apology and to plead with Hoseok to allow you to speak with Viper, but he speaks up before you can even find the words.

“Okay,” he shrugs. “Fuck him. Go check the equipment and make sure the bastard didn’t take anything. I’ll be out there in a second.”

Ty stands there in shock, his expression looking similar to yours. When he doesn’t move, Hoseok loses his patience.

“Dude, why are you still standing here?” His arms stretch out with an aggravated huff. “Go!”

The man scrambles out of there before Hoseok can throw another punch, and you stand in utter disbelief. How is he not upset? And how is he going to put on a show without a drummer?

Although, your answer comes sooner than later.

“You got your sticks, right?” he asks while grabbing his black leather gloves.

You nod.

“Yeah, always,” you confirm. “Why?”

The moment Hoseok throws you a smirk, your knees become weak, though you aren’t swooned for long.

“It’s time to use them,” he says, looking in the mirror to fluff out his hair. “Let’s go.”

But instead of following him, you stand in the same spot, babbling any excuse that comes to mind. Hoseok walks over to you and starts pulling you towards the door.

“I-I can’t go out there!... I don’t have an outfit…What if I mess up?... My braces are still on!”

Hoseok silences you by placing his finger on your lips. He chuckles, finding your panic amusing.

“First of all, you look hot. Second, you were at my place every day while I was writing these songs,” he tells you. “I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t know you could do it.”

“But—”

“You’re gonna be fine, ma. Don’t worry,” he assures, giving you those soft eyes that he knows will leave you a mess. “Just keep your attention on me, and you’ll never miss a beat.”

You have no idea what that means, but it has your pussy leaking like a waterfall. Your thoughts are clouded by whatever delusional haze that has come over you as you allow yourself to think this man is flirting with you. You agree before you can change your mind.

“All right, I guess I’ll give it a try,” you sigh. “I’ll get my stuff and meet you on stage.”

“Yes,” he triumphs briefly and wastes no time making his way to the stage.

However, you call his name before he departs.

“You aren’t going to wear your hat?” You point to the jester cap on the “dressing room” couch.

“Nah, it’s too hot. Don’t be too long, babe.”

And then he’s gone, leaving you with your mouth open and your legs wobbling.

Hoseok hasn’t had a haircut in over a month. How in the hell are you supposed to survive when he's out there looking like the three letters of sin?

“I’ll try,” you mumble as you stare at the empty hallway.

You stand there until you hear them calling your name, and then you have no choice but to go out there and face your fears—or your desires, you should say.

“I have to give it to you, _____,” Yoongi compliments. “I’ve been playing with these guys for years, and I don’t think Viper could ever capture your stage presence.”

Ty chimes in. “Shit, tell me about it. Did you see those chicks on the front row telling Jay to move so they can throw her some kisses? That was hot, and I laughed my ass off.”

Both of them retell the events of the show, but you can’t find yourself cheering. You were initially nervous, but once the music started and the crowd’s applause vibrated the stage, you felt an unexplainable rush that took over your body.

Now you’re just worried if it was too much. You’re afraid you’ve overstepped, and Hoseok may be angry with you. You’ve been avoiding him since you got off the stage, but you know you can’t run forever.

“Hey, _____. Jay wants you to come backstage when you get a chance,” one of his groupies calls from the doorway of the entertainment hall.

“Okay. Did he say why?” you ask out of curiosity.

“I’m not a messenger. Ask him yourself.”

Her attitude rubs you wrong, and it makes your eye twitch. You take a deep breath to calm yourself as she disappears into the corridor.

“We’ll catch you later. Better see what he wants,” Yoongi teases, and you give him the best smile you can muster up.

Knowing Hoseok is waiting for you, you don’t stall. You make your way towards the room you were in earlier with a fast-beating heart.

The door is cracked, but you still knock before you enter. Your hand searches for the light switch as you close the door behind you, but a force traps you against the wall before you can do so.

Even in the poorly lit room, you can make out Hoseok’s handsome features and curly hair. His body is pressed against yours, causing you to tense up for a brief moment.

“Shit, you scared me,” you squeak, eyes wide. “Is something wrong?”

“Nope. I’m just a little jealous.” His smile is genuine but sinister.

You take a gulp before you answer, swallowing back a feeling you know you shouldn’t feel when he’s this close to you.

“Jealous of what?”

“You know how you behaved out there. Don’t play with me,” he scoffs, his smirk still evident.

“Oh. Sorry about that.”

“Sorry? For what?” he asks.

“I guess for getting too wild. I know that’s your thing.”

His head shakes, and his hair covers his dark eyes. You plant your hands on the wall behind you to support your trembling legs. A part of you wishes he’ll create some space between you.

“Am I making you uncomfortable or something?” Hoseok quizzes.

“What?! I mean, no. Of course not,” you laugh nervously.

He leans closer, and the smell of him invades your nostrils. You instantly become drunk off of him just standing there, inhaling his scent.

“I was about to say,” he whispers in your ear. “You didn’t seem shy earlier.”

“What do you mean?”

You hold a breath, waiting for him to back off, but he never does.

“When you were checking me out,” he reveals, and you nearly sink to the floor. “You were peering over, trying to see me. They told me, you know.”

“Um…”

You have no argument. There’s nothing you can say because it’s true.

The growling, the dick grabbing, his wet fucking hair. You couldn’t catch a break. Then to make matters worse, he started thrusting the air. You couldn’t see him clearly since his back was facing you, but the reaction from the crowd told you everything. You craved to see more, but unfortunately, your position prevented you from doing so.

“If you wanted me to show you some more, all you had to do was ask,” he informs, using his hips to grind against you.

Your mouth falls open slightly, but nothing comes out. There are no words to describe the thoughts going through your head. Your body is tempted to join him, but thankfully he laughs before you can give in.

“I’m just fucking with you,” he chuckles. “You did good, ma. I’m proud of you. That energy was incredible.”

After you give him a tight smile, he continues.

“The position is yours if you want it.”

“Yeah, of course I do,” you answer truthfully, and he congratulates you.

You release a sigh when he withdraws, and it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“What’s up with you?” he asks immediately.

Fuck.

“Nothing,” you lie.

“Really?”

He walks over to you again and tries to read your expression. His fingers poke at your sides playfully to get a reaction.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Move, please,” you groan, trying to walk around him, but he grabs your waist.

It’s not uncommon for you two to be touchy when no one’s around, but you don’t trust yourself tonight. You might react inappropriately and can’t handle that kind of embarrassment.

“Can you stop it?” You push him away, and the game changes; he’s no longer his playful self.

Without another word, he spins you around and corners you once again. Your back hits the wall with a small thud, but it's only because the back of his hands block the impact. You stare at him like a deer in headlights, knowing that you’re in deep shit.

If there’s one thing you know about Hoseok, he’ll draw the truth out of you.

“Sorry, but something’s wrong,” he tries again. He whispers, “Is it girl stuff?”

You sigh defeatedly.

“Something like that,” you admit.

The ridges on Hoseok’s face become more defined as he tries to decipher what that could mean.

“It’s a guy, huh?”

Your reaction proves your guilt. “What?! No!”

“A girl?”

“Uhh…”

“You can tell me, you know?” he assures, and you crack at the sight of the softness within his eyes. Most of the time, he’s rough around the edges, but he’s caring when he needs to be.

“Yeah, it’s a guy,” you confess.

His expression is unreadable, but still, you feel a bit of disapproval radiating from his body.

“So, you’re his now? And I’m not allowed to touch you?” he concludes.

“Wha–No, Jay. I swear that’s not it.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s you,” you blurt out, slapping your hand over your mouth.

Hoseok goes from pissed to shocked, and you quickly try to escape the embarrassing moment you’ve created for yourself. Why couldn’t you just have kept your mouth shut?

“Wait a minute.” He takes a step back but holds up his hand to stop you. “You need to explain what you mean by that. I can get someone else if you don’t want to talk to me.”

“It’s nothing like that. I promise,” you assure.

“Okay, I figured. But still, what’s up?”

“It doesn’t matter. I just need to go. It’s late.”

But he doesn’t move.

“Where are you going?” he questions. “Your parents letting you in at this hour?”

When you got off stage earlier, you already had 23 missed calls. He should already know the answer to that question.

“No, but I don’t think I can come over to yours either,” you inform. His head tilts, curiosity probably flooding his thoughts. “I’m not myself tonight, and I don’t want to say or do anything stupid.”

“Like…?”

You shrug your shoulders.

“Tell you the things I think about you probably? I’ve already slipped up once.”

You lower your head, but he tells you to look at him.

“So you’re trying to tell me that you like me or something?” he quizzes, searching your face for answers. “You know the rules, right?”

You nod. “Members can’t date each other, and that includes fucking.”

“So you know that nothing can happen, right? I’d be a hypocrite.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know how it happened, but I swear it was never my intention. I know how much the band means to you, and it means a lot to me too, and—”

“Shh,” he whispers, bring a finger to his mouth. He comes closer and leans down, bringing his face only an inch away from yours. Your breath hitches as soon as your eyes meet, and you’re left wondering what will happen next. “This is our secret, okay?”

After you agree, the softest kiss is placed on your lips. Your eyelids flutter shut, and your palms find his chest to ground yourself. His hands return to your waist, but as the kiss deepens and the moment heats up, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer.

A soft moan emits from your throat when he slips his tongue inside your mouth, exploring aimlessly and becoming greedier as the seconds pass.

You start to feel more confident and begin run your hands over his body, noting how firm he is with each gentle squeeze. Your mind is left jumbled and hazy by the time his lips abandon yours. A whine threatens to escape, but you catch it at the last second.

When your eyes open, you stare at each other as you process the intensity of the minute-long moment shared between you. Heat creeps up your neck because, despite the many kisses you’ve shared with others while making out, this is the first time you’ve felt this overcome with lust from the small act alone.

Your mind races with many thoughts because you aren’t sure of what Hoseok is thinking until he speaks.

“I’m probably going to regret this…” he says before hooking his hand behind your thigh. He lifts your leg and then taps the other one. “But, come here.”

You hop in his arms, and he carries you across the room to a large wooden table.

He lays you on top of it and slips his hand under your skirt, snatching off your panties in one swift motion. You prop yourself up on your elbows and use your foot to push yourself back. Once both feet are on the table, he spreads your legs and drops to his knees.

Hoseok curses when your pussy is revealed to him, and he brings his face in close proximity. He inhales deeply as his nose travels along your inner thigh and eventually finds itself against your cunt. He breathes in your scent with a satisfied hum, like he’s been dying to smell you forever.

“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to taste this pussy,” he comments, giving your clit tiny kitten licks. “Fuck, you’re gonna be crying when I’m done.”

“What–Oh, shit!”

His tongue flattens and licks up your slit, making you tremble in his grasp. The first intrusion is breathtaking and unlike anything you’ve ever felt. Hoseok does not show any fear when he dives into your center and doesn’t hold back any thought that runs through his mind.

He laps up your juices and makes out with your pussy as feverishly as he did your lips. Your hands form fists as you fight through the sensitivity.

“So fucking sweet,” he moans against your heat. “You taste so fucking good.”

“Please.” The plea erupts from your throat without much effort, without even knowing what you’re asking for. However, Hoseok seems to know what it is you need.

“Come on my tongue. I don’t mind.”

He sucks in your clit between his lips and your back arches. The volume of your voice leaves your ears ringing, not even caring if someone outside of the room could hear you. The tears Hoseok promised begin to roll down your cheeks as the first real orgasm of your life takes over your body.

Your limbs stiffen when he nibbles on your sensitive bundle of nerves and robs you of the only breath that remains in your lungs.

“Be as loud as you want, baby. It’s just us.”

He finishes by cleaning up your arousal, licking you into oversensitivity while your body squirms to get out of his hold. “Don’t run from me,” he tells you, and you’re forced to lay there while being drained of all your energy.

You’re still whimpering when he makes his way up your body, kissing you and allowing you to taste yourself on his lips. He chuckles when you moan into his mouth.

“Fuck, this is a bad idea,” he says after he pulls away. He mumbles while pondering and trying to determine if it is worth the risk. If you’re worth the risk.

The fate of the entire band lies in his hands, and every decision he makes is crucial to its existence.

“You don’t have to. I would understand if you didn’t.”

“What if I think you look too good to resist?” he asks. A smile cannot help but spread on your face, knowing that your feeling for him is mutual.

Feeling bold, your hands move up his shoulders, and your fingers entangle in his curly wet strands. You catch on to your mistake and withdraw quickly. Hoseok doesn’t like when people touch his hair. You vividly remember how he kicked everyone out when some girl tried to run her fingers through it once.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize. “I got carried away.”

His response is not one you expect. “You’re good, ma.”

Goosebumps raise on your skin as his glove-clad hands travel up your thighs, pausing once they reach your skirt. He tugs at it gently while looking at you lying beneath him.

“You can touch wherever you want,” he permits.

As he leaves a kiss on your cheek, you relish in the silkiness of his locks. Quickly you get drunk from his touch and slip into a lust-induced trance. Hoseok’s lips travel lower, entering dangerous territory—drawing a sound from you that only your bedroom walls have heard.

“Jay…”

He freezes.

Your mind begins to scramble for excuses, but fortunately, you won’t need them.

“Don’t moan my name like that unless you’re trying to get fucked for real,” he warns you.

Curiosity leaves you practically begging to discover what it is he wishes to keep hidden.

“What if I do?... What if I want you like that?” he rests his forehead on yours to see your face while you speak.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he chuckles.

“How will I ever know if you won’t show me?”

“I shouldn’t, though.”

“Why not?” you ask him.

“You know why.”

“But you have my permission, and I don’t expect you to be my boyfriend afterward,” you assure, but he doesn’t say anything until you beg. “Please?... You can’t take me this far just to leave me hanging.”

“Fuck,” he curses. “That’s not fair.”

“But doubting me is?”

Hoseok breaks with a heavy sigh.

“Well, let me take you back to my place first, okay?” he suggests, gathering your skirt in his hands. “I wanna do it the right way.”

You notice how he reluctantly tries to pull it down but is torn between being patient or feeding into his desire. You hope that he’ll give into it with some encouragement.

“Hoseok, I can’t wait that long.” You wrap your legs around his waist, bucking into his crotch and taunting him carelessly. He grips the fabric a little tight after you gently tug on his hair.

“Babe…”

“I want you,” you whisper. “Now.”

“Then you have me, baby.”

His hands move to your shirt and make hasty movements to get it over your head. He doesn’t stop there because your bra is next to go, but he pauses before he rips it off you.

“You aren’t shy, are you?”

You take it off yourself, showing him all of your glory. The man has had his face buried in your cunt for nearly five minutes—shame no longer exists.

“Nope,” you reply.

“So fucking hot,” he says, spreading your legs wide. “But so delicate and sweet.”

His hand runs along your inner thigh while he digs inside his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. He opens it and explores its compartments before pulling out a condom.

“Are you nervous?” he asks you, tearing the foil with his teeth.

“Yeah, but I’ll be okay.”

“Eager, are we?” he teases.

“Shut up,” you retort. Your eyes expand when he grabs your face, making you look at him.

“Make me.”

His fingers squish your cheeks together while he places the condom between his lips and unzips his pants with the other hand. He takes it and pumps his cock as he rolls it on, preparing himself for the warmth that awaits him.

When he pulls you closer, and the tip of his dick touches your heat, you realize that it’s really about to happen, and all the stories you’ve heard about the first time start to invade your mind.

“You sure you want to, right?”

You take a deep breath to calm yourself and reply. “Yeah.”

He nods, then brings his cock to your entrance.

“Don’t let me hurt you,” he tells you, probing the thin barrier that blocks his entry. “Just relax.”

You can only shake your head in understanding because words are impossible to form right now.

You start clawing at his back, trying to hold onto something and cope with the overwhelming fullness. You try to speak, but the intrusion leaves you gasping. There’s a bit of stinging, but the pressure and intensity make you feel like you’re about to explode.

“I know it’s tough, but you gotta let me know how you’re doing, babe.”

“Do something, please.”

“Huh?”

“Fuck me or something. Don’t just stay like this.” Thankfully, he understands what you mean and starts out with small strokes to test the waters. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to get more familiar with the feeling. “...So big.”

Hoseok can barely contain himself and releases a pained laugh while he also gets used to the feeling.

“No, you’re just really tight…and you’re squeezing the shit out of me,” he informs.

“I-Is that bad?”

“No, sweetheart,” he laughs. “It’s going to feel good for both of us in a second.”

He looks between you to watch the way your pussy takes him in, cursing and commenting on how pretty your cunt looks with him inside of it.

“Can’t believe this pretty pussy is wrapped around my dick. You don’t know how long I’ve been thinking about this.”

The discomfort starts to ebb away when he starts speaking to you. You linger on every word and relish in each compliment he gives you.

“Always teasing me in these little skirts like I wasn’t tempted to bend you over and fuck you where you stood,” he confesses. “I tried my best to behave, but you just couldn’t keep this pretty cunt to yourself, huh?”

“Jay,” you moan, not even realizing he’s picked up the pace.

The overwhelming feeling has dissipated, and all that remains is lust and the desire to feel another wave of pleasure wash over you.

“You wanted me to have it, huh? Wanted it to be mine, didn’t you?”

“I—”

“Your parents would be so proud if they knew you gave it up to me, wouldn’t they?” he mocks, amusement in his voice. Your walls tighten around his shaft, making him hiss and degrade you more. “I should tell them what a nasty girl you are.”

His thrusts become deeper, his cock entering your womb and pushing you further up the table on impact. Hoseok brings his hand up to your neck and pins you to the table while he fucks you as roughly as he pleases.

The other hand gropes your tits, swirling his fingers around your nipples to intensify your pleasure.

“You think they’d approve of this, hm?”

“No,” you rasp, eyes rolling back when he squeezes your throat. “They wouldn’t.”

“But you don’t care, do you?” he questions, and once again, you deny. “You’d rather be my whore than a good girl.”

“Jay, please.”

“Please what?” he teases, loosening his hold to let you breathe. “Does that pretty pussy want to come again?”

“Fuck, yes! Please, Hoseok.”

He laughs at your desperation.

“Using my real name and shit.” He snatches you up and pulls you to the edge of the table, making you look him in the eye. “Must be a desperate little whore.”

Without even thinking, you reply and shock him even.

“I am. I really am.”

The smirk that grows on his face is menacing, but it sends a pool of arousal gushing from your hole.

“Prove it,” he taunts. “Open your mouth.”

You do it without hesitation, and immediately he spits in your mouth, telling you to close and swallow without leaving a drop. You don’t bat an eye when you consume it and then open up to show him what you did.

Your obedience leaves his dick twitching inside of you, revealing that he’s also close to his release.

“Damn, I need to keep you around,” he says, mostly to himself. His words still boost your ego and leave you a drooling mess within his hold. “So good for me. Go ahead and come.”

He whispers as he stares at you with those lust-filled eyes, pounding you remorselessly and bringing more tears to your reddened eyes.

“You deserve it, pretty girl.”

The tightened coil within you snaps, and you can no longer fight off the urge to let go. You come with his name on your drool-covered lips, falling limp in his arms when you’re finally spent. Hoseok lays you down gently and pulls out of your heat, removing the condom swiftly and rubbing his dick until he squirts his cum all over your pussy.

His moans are so sexy as they fill your ears, and you lay there smiling at him, fucked out and in your post-orgasmic daze. When he’s finally spent, he removes gloves and starts to caress your body gently. You appreciate the delicate touch of his soft hands.

“You okay? Did I go too far?” he asks, you shake your head.

“I enjoyed it a lot,” you answer truthfully. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“This.” You gesture towards your tired body with a weak smile, earning a laugh from Hoseok.

“I should clean you up,” he points out, walking over to his bag to grab an extra t-shirt he has buried somewhere inside. He pauses as he’s searching and turns to you.

“Hey.”

You hum.

“You don’t have to say yes, so don’t feel pressured but umm…” he holds up his camera, “I just like to keep these. I don’t show anyone. I just—”

“I’m okay with it,” you confirm.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you nod, opening your legs so he can have a better view.

You swirl his arousal around and mix it with yours before shoving your fingers inside of yourself, wincing slightly from sensitivity.

“Fuck, just like that,” he encourages.

He snaps pictures and collects them as soon as they develop, lining them up next to you so you can see them once he’s done. They actually look nice, and you find yourself smiling as you look at them.

“You like them?” Hoseok speaks after you’ve been staring for a few seconds. “We can take some more at my place.”

“We can?”

“You want to?” he laughs.

“Of course! I look sexy.” You wiggle your brows playfully, and he shakes his head.

He helps you clean up and put on your clothes despite you telling him not to. You have to walk beside him and grip his arm for stability because your legs are shaky and wobbly. Both of you laugh as you depart. However, he turns to you before you get to his car.

“I know we said stuff while we were fucking, but I just wanna make sure our agreement is still intact,” he states, his tone becoming more serious.

“No, I still feel the same. I have to focus on school, and my parents would never approve, you know?... I don’t think it would be worth it, no offense.”

“Oh, I agree,” he assures. “Well, if it’s all good, let’s go to my place, and I’ll take you to your dorm tomorrow?”

“Sounds good,” you tell him, and it really did sound great.

But then he took you home and fucked you in every position the entire weekend. By Monday morning, you were sore, covered in his marks, and dick-whipped beyond the point of return.

That weekend was only a sample. The more time you spent together, the more you fucked each other, and the closer you two became.

You had to learn the hard way that friends with benefits usually never work in your favor.

#hoseok x reader #hoseok smut #bts smut #bts x reader #bts angst #hoseok angst #btsdreamcourt #bangtanbathhouse #bangtansorciere #bts imagines #hoseok fanfics #bts fanfics #sugakookitty

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runningmunson · 2 years

Text

Something to Look At

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: You found some of Eddie’s magazine and become insecure about the girls you see on the pages. You decide to use his necklace and give him something else to look at when you’re away. Warnings: 18+ (this is about as spicy as I will probably ever get since I dont write smut lol), brief mention of masturbation, description of reader taking a photo in lingerie, swearing, sex implied, insecurities

Masterlist

Eddie was a typical guy. He enjoyed women, and he enjoyed sex. But for some reason, it never crossed your mind that he would seek pleasure from looking at women in magazines. You didn’t find out until several months into your relationship when you stumbled upon his collection haphazardly thrown under his bed.

You were hanging out together in his room when he had to step out for a deal. He had been gone for some time, and you were starting to get bored. You had been in his room plenty of times but never really paid much attention to all the small details, so curiosity got the best of you, and you decided to look around.

He had a good collection of tapes, posters on the wall, a few fantasy and sci-fi books on his desk, and what looked to be magazines under his bed. You crouched down to grab them, hoping there might be something interesting to read to pass the time until he got back. You noticed they were automotive ones based on the title. However, you weren’t expecting to see a woman on the front page.

You flip through it and notice that on almost every page was a woman with her makeup perfectly done, hair in the latest fashion, and scantily clad in swimwear, low-cut tops, and short shorts. Some even with no top on at all. Most of them were posed provocatively on muscle cars with their perfectly toned bodies. They were simply beautiful. The feeling of envy and jealousy began to seep into your veins. You didn’t necessarily think you were that bad, but when looking at these women, the only thing you could think about was how you desired to look like them and that your looks would never compare. It was wishful thinking to believe that Eddie only looked at these for the cars, but you weren’t stupid.

You were so caught up in your thoughts and insecurities that you didn’t hear Eddie making his way into his room. “Hey, I’m back! Sorry that it took so long. The guy was a major jackass and didn’t like my prices.”

The magazines slipped out of your hands and scattered all over the floor, heart racing from Eddie’s sudden appearance and the fact that you were about to get caught looking at them. You were quick to drop to the ground and pick them up, trying to shove them back under the bed before he noticed what they were. Only you weren’t so lucky because when you looked up, you saw Eddie frozen at the door frame, a soft “shit” coming from his mouth.

Tears began to form in your eyes, embarrassed at being caught looking at something of his that he wanted to hide. “I’m sorry, Eddie. I-I didn’t mean to find those.”

“(Y/N), let me explain-“ he began.

You didn’t let him finish before cutting him off, “You don’t have to explain anything to me, Eddie. This is your room, and I shouldn’t have been snooping. I’m not gonna try to control you; if you wanna jerk off to them then it’s fine.”

He had a guilty look on his face. His hand went up to rest on the back of his neck, “Shit, I’m sorry. I don’t know - it’s just you’re not always here, you know? And sometimes I need a release from everything.”

“It’s fine, Eddie. Really it’s okay. I promise,” you spit out, forcing a tight-lipped smile. It wasn’t okay. You couldn’t help but think that this is what Eddie really desired and that he only settled for you because that’s what is in Hawkins. Not only did you want to look like them, but you also wanted to feel as confident about yourself as they seemed.

Eddie looked at you with his eyebrows raised, skeptical at your reassurance but didn’t want to push it. “I can stop if you want.”

“No, Eddie. Like I said, it’s fine. Now let’s go watch the movie,” you said, not letting him say another word before leaving the room and sitting on the couch. Eddie just sighed, unsure of what to think about all of this.

For the next week, you couldn’t help but think about those women any time you closed your eyes or any time you were around Eddie. Does he do it every night? Do you not satisfy him enough? Why couldn’t he think about you while doing it instead? A thought then popped into your head. What if you did give Eddie something else to look at, that something else being you?

The next morning you woke up to Eddie getting out of his bed and leaving to take a shower. You knew this might be your one shot to take what you needed. “Have you seen my necklace? I thought I left it on my desk?”

“No, I haven’t. Maybe you left it in your locker after gym class?” You suggested, trying to ignore the slight guilt. The necklace felt like it was burning in your pocket at your lie, knowing how much it meant to Eddie. “We need to leave, or we will be late for class!”

You were thankful that Eddie didn’t notice your nervousness while in the car on the way to school. The whole time you were impatiently waiting for the final bell to ring so you could go home and execute your plan before your parents got home and the Hellfire meeting was over. When you finally made it home, you rushed to your room and began digging in your closet. Clothes were flying left and right, trying to find what you were looking for before letting out a satisfying sigh when you found it.

You held a black lingerie set that you know is Eddie’s favorite, the lace one that lifts your breasts enough to accentuate the roundness and softness. You think back to the times Eddie had buried his face into them, praising you, or the times he almost ripped your panties with the emphasis that you “won’t be needing these anymore.” You placed the leather jacket Eddie bought you for your birthday over your shoulders. The last remaining piece was his guitar pick that hung on your neck.

You got your camera set up and took one last look before you started. Your stomach was in knots at the thought of doing something like this but shook the nerves away. It’s now or never.

You got on your knees in front of your bed, spreading them out with your butt touching your calves. You stretched your arms out to grab onto the bedpost above you. You threw your head back slowly and arched your back, pushing your chest out. The leather of your jacket squeaked as you did so. Eddie’s necklace fell right between your breasts. You close your eyes right before the camera flashes.

You released yourself from your position and hesitantly went to look at the picture. With the photo in your shaking hand, you squeezed your eyes shut tightly. You took a deep breath before you opened them, and what you saw shocked you. The internal battle between you and your insecurities slowly dissipated the longer you observed the photo. You never knew you looked this beautiful and alluring.

Carefully you shoved the photo in an envelope, writing Eddie’s name on it with a heart. You ran out to your car and made your way to his trailer. Eddie was already expecting you, so you went straight to his room.

You found Eddie on his bed writing in his notebook. He turned around when he heard the door open. He smiled, brown eyes lighting up, “Hey sweetheart, I missed you after class. How was your day?”

“It was alright. Um, I have something for you,” you pulled the necklace out of your pocket and handed it to him.

“Oh, thank god, where did you find it?” Eddie asked.

“Well, I didn’t necessarily find it. I kinda borrowed it,” you smile shyly at him.

“You know you could have just asked? What did you need it for anyways?” Eddie laughed. When hearing the question, you knew it was time for you to show him. You pulled the envelope out of your pocket and thrust it toward his chest. He smiled at the heart next to his name and raised his eyebrows at you. He put his notebook on the floor and took his sweet time opening it.

“Hurry up! You’re making me way more nervous,” your hands were shaking again, wanting to see his reaction. He finally got it open and pulled the photo out, doing a double take at what he saw.

Eddie felt his face getting warm. Wide eyes flickered from the picture back to you. You noticed the way he swallowed and started shifting on his bed. It was hard not to see the sudden bulge in Eddie’s pants that wasn’t there before. You smirked, knowing you accomplished just what you had hoped. Not only was it a confidence boost to you, thinking you looked pretty damn good, but to see the effect it had on Eddie. “What is this for?”

“Well, I just thought since you mentioned I'm not always here that you could have a photo of me. Do you like it?” You asked innocently, eyelashes fluttering as you blinked at him. You took a few steps closer, took a seat on his lap, and wiggled around, acting like you were trying to get comfortable. Eddie gulped, cheeks flushed a bright red at your behavior. There was no denying how turned on he was at this moment.

“Uh- um, yeah? Yes! Shit,” His voice cracked. He ran a hand over his face. You loved seeing how flustered he was, it’s not often Eddie doesn’t know what to say.

“You don’t happen to have that outfit on underneath this, do you?” He asks. His hands slowly crept their way to the hem of your shirt. You smirked at him.

“Why don’t you lay down, and I’ll show you,” you said as you straddled him. You used your hand to push his chest until his back hit the mattress. I won’t be needing those magazines anymore was the last thing Eddie thought before he showed you just how much of a goddess you are.

Taglist: @ali-r3n , @wroteclassicaly , @lem0nb0iii , @spookyheadxeddie , @ghosttownwherenoonegoes

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson #stranger things imagine #eddie munson smut

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imnotoverlyobsessive · 10 months

Text

Title of Your Sex Tape

Chapter Five: Soft Breath, Beating Heart

AO3 one two three four five six seven eight

Mayday, situation overload; I’m restless, obsessed with your future. And all my worries, they don’t bother you; collected, you render me useless.- All Time Low, For Baltimore

She fidgeted anxiously in the back seat of the rideshare Tim had called for her. They weren’t FaceTiming anymore, but they were texting, and god were the texts dirty.

How much longer, baby ? I feel like I’m going insane from wanting to touch you

Just a couple more mins

Can’t wait to see you again, I wanna kiss you so bad

I want to kiss you, too

Wanna see how hard I am for you ?

Lea bit her lip at that, shakily typing out her reply.

Yes please

A picture came through of Tim stroking himself, and she had to fight back a whimper.

Do you know why I’m like this, Lea ?

Because it’s your job?

Because I’m thinking about you. I’m thinking about what you taste like, the way you kiss me, the way you moan my name. I’m gonna make you cum so hard when you get here

Suddenly, the car pulled to a stop in front of the studio. “Here we are,” her driver said with a polite smile. “Have a good one.”

“Thanks, you too,” Lea told him shakily before stepping out and hurrying inside.

“Lea,” the director said in surprise when he saw her walk in the door. “Wasn’t expecting you today.”

“Oh, um… Tim asked me to come by, so…”

“Ah,” the director nodded. “That makes sense; I suspect he’s gotten a bit spoiled by all the attention you give him. In any case, he’s—“

At that exact moment, however, the man in question burst out of his dressing room and marched over towards her with purpose, nudity and all.

The director blinked in surprise, as did Susie, one of the other fluffers that Lea had become work friends with. Tim paid them no mind, however, simply grabbing Lea by the hand wordlessly and pulling her towards his dressing room.

“You’re still wearing the stockings,” he observed as they stepped inside.

“It’s still cold outside,” she pointed out.

Tim locked the door behind them and pulled her towards the couch. “It’s cold, but you’re wearing that tiny little fucking skirt?”

Lea flushed. “You seemed to like it, so…”

He laid down on the couch. “Damn right I like it. Take your panties off.”

Lea took her shoes and socks off, then her panties, her movements quick and aborted.

He stared at her for a moment before deciding, “Sweater and bra, too. I wanna see your tits.”

She obeyed this command hastily as well. “What about the skirt?”

“Nuh uh,” he smirked. “No, you leave the skirt and stockings on.”

“O— okay.”

He grabbed her by the waist and yanked her towards him. “Good girl. Now sit on my face.”

Lea’s eyes widened. “I didn’t think you were serious about that!”

“You bet your sexy ass I was,” he said impatiently. “Sit. On. My. Face.”

She did so, feeling very hesitant and very embarrassed at having him see her body so close up, but Tim just groaned at the sight of her, took her ass in his hands, and pulled her down to him so he could lap at her. Lea yelped in surprise, because he hadn’t teased her even a little; he’d just gone right into flicking his tongue over her clit.

He reached up with one hand to twist her nipple sharply, his other hand kneading her ass. She began to roll her hips, tilting her head back at the exquisite sensations he was bringing forth in her.

“That’s it, baby,” he growled, the sound somewhat muffled. “Ride my face like a good little slut.”

Lea fisted a hand in his curls, holding him against her as he tugged her nipple and swirled his tongue around her clit in fast little circles. She was getting close and it hadn’t even been that long.

“Fuck, fuck, oh god, Tim—“

“You’re gonna cum for me already, aren’t you?” he murmured, his breath hot on her sensitive clit.

Lea nodded jerkily, desperate for the release only he was capable of granting her. “You’re gonna make me cum, I’m gonna cum, fuck I want it so bad—“

“Then cum,” Tim ordered sharply before taking her clit between his lips and sucking.

Lea spasmed, her hips bucking against his face as he worked her through her orgasm.

Shockingly, by the time she came down and was situated next to him on the couch, she wasn’t sated. He was hard, stroking himself, and her mouth was watering. She wanted…

“Tim,” Lea started hesitantly, “would you mind if I… tried something?”

He smirked, brushing her hair from her eyes. “What do you wanna try, angel?”

Reaching out and tentatively wrapping her hand around his throbbing length, beginning to stroke him, she very quietly said, “What if instead of my hands, I used my mouth?”

He froze. “Would you like to do that?”

Flushing, she nodded. “If— if you don’t mind too much.”

“Don’t mind too much?” Tim scoffed in disbelief. “Do you have any idea how often I think about you sucking my cock?”

Leaning across the couch so she could examine him closer, she recalled how she’d been afraid of this once. Now, though, all she wanted was to taste him. To have him inside her.

“Will you teach me?”

“I’ll teach you anything you wanna know,” he murmured. When she climbed on the couch and kneeled in front of him, he groaned. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous like that, on your knees for me.”

She reached out and gripped him in her hand, brushing her lips over his tip in a soft kiss. “I want you to tell me what you like, Timothée. I want to please you.”

“I have a feeling anything you do will please me,” he confessed with a breathy chuckle. “But since you’re asking, why don’t you just start with your tongue?”

Lea hummed, considering this, and then licked his tip, tasting the fluid that had beaded there. He inhaled sharply, and she did it again, slower this time. He tasted… interesting. Salty and musky and most decidedly male. Curiously, she swirled her tongue around the head, watching his reaction closely.

“There you go, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Now just… take it in your mouth. Only as much as feels comfortable, okay?”

She hummed again, doing as she was told. He fisted a hand in her hair, tugging lightly, and the sting in her scalp was far more delicious than she’d have expected.

“Fuck,” he groaned, and she lifted her eyes to watch his face. He was looking down at her, his cheeks flushed and eyes lidded and dark. “Suck your cheeks in, baby.” She did so, and he moaned low in his throat. “Good girl, good girl, just—“ he cut himself off with a gasp when she swirled her tongue around the head curiously. Something had come out of the tip, and it was weirdly salty, but not unpleasant. “Move up and down on it,” he pleaded. “Fuck, Lea—“

Something about the way he was looking at her, the sounds he made… it sent sparks through her veins, and without much thought, she slid a hand between her legs and started to rub herself. She wasn’t as good as him, not nearly, but even so, she moaned around his length at the relief of her throbbing clit being touched.

“Baby,” he groaned. “Oh, fucking hell, Lea. Are you… are you touching yourself, sweetheart?”

She didn’t verbalize a response, instead moaning and sucking him more.

Tim groaned regretfully, pulling her off his dick and up into his lap so as to kiss her neck.

“Why’d you make me stop?” she whined, wishing she’d been allowed to continue.

“Seeing you get so horny from sucking my dick that you couldn’t help but rub your pretty little clit— that was gonna make me cum, Lea,” he explained. She pouted. “Not to worry,” he assured her with a soft chuckle against the skin of her throat. “I’ll fingerfuck you till you cum.”

He slipped his hand between her thighs then, picking up rubbing her clit where she’d left off, and she moaned loudly. She felt his smirk against her neck, and then he slid two fingers inside of her, curling them with each thrust.

Still sensitive from her orgasm before, she could already feel a second one building.

“F— fuck,” she stuttered out in a gasp. “Feels so good.”

“You’re gonna cum for me already, huh?” he observed with another chuckle. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

Lea whined, threading her fingers into his hair. “‘m gonna cum,” she gasped out as he rubbed her clit faster and faster. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum—“

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, using his free hand to toy with her nipple. “So pretty when you fall apart. Cum for me, sweetheart. Lemme hear you moan my name.”

“Tim,” she moaned obediently. “F— fuck, I—“ She couldn’t finish her statement, because then she orgasmed with a gasp of his name.

He slowly removed his fingers from her, wrapping an arm around her and kissing her shoulder affectionately. She leaned against his chest, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

“D’you need me to…” she trailed off, mind in a daze.

He snorted. “No, Lea. I’m good.”

She yawned. “You sure?”

“Oh yeah,” he confirmed.

Just then, there was a knock at the door and a voice said he was needed on set. Tim stood, stretching his arms over his head.

“Look,” Tim addressed Lea, who had settled onto the couch, already laying down. “Why don’t you take a nap?” He grabbed a blanket and settled it over her. “I’ll be back in a few hours. Have some lunch after you wake up, okay?”

“Mmkay,” she mumbled, already half asleep.

Look I told you guys I don’t update consistently okay this is why I usually wait until after the fic is done to post

Tag list

@ellamaianderson @shika1200 @blackqueenstarseed1 @gatoenlaciudad @esmaada @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @softhecreator @timolaurence @timmymyluv @oddlyenoughiamweird @leecrunchybones @s-we-e-t-t-ea @almostg @leespparker @bubblebuttwade @glizzymcguirex @starberry-cake

To be added, please ask 💗

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lycanlovingvampyre · 1 year

Text

MAG 106 Relisten

Activity on my first listen: putting up a new fence

Hearing the episode title I somehow already suspected this could be a space one...

Huh... The spinning of the tape breaks off there for a moment after Melanie's clap (1:21). I never noticed this. Probably always thought it was a brief loading error. Thought it now too at first, but I went back to check.

"More than large enough for the swell of humanity to grow, and ultimately extinguish itself." Hm, a touch of the Extinction there?

"and when I think of it too deeply, I feel like I’m going to throw up. Like a sort of existential vertigo." Yeah, I know this feeling. When I try to think of things which are incomprehensible for me I get this weird feeling and feel dizzy.

"I knew that if it chose to cry out, it would have destroyed me utterly." The Vast is the most cosmic of all horrors of the Entities. This literally sounds like an Old One.

"And I wish that I could convince myself that ignorance was the same thing as safety." Louder, for Jon in S1!

Although this is a statement with a lot of rambling and very little actually happening (and usually I simply cannot follow those kind of statements) I absolutely love this one. I'm not only afraid of heights and I hate falling (generally avoid rides with a drop at theme parks), the aspect of one's own insignificance compared to the sheer size of the universe really gets to me, but also fascinates me.

Nice to see that the rest of the archival team is actually helping Martin with the statements.

MELANIE: "Also, I um, I can’t find Jan Kilbride." Sounds like he has been swallowed up by the earth! *badum tss*

BASIRA: "Yeah, it’s, it is not cool down here." MELANIE: "Summer in the basement, I suppose." Is it really hot in some basements in the summer? Because mine is always cool. Very comfortable in summer, too cold in winter.

BASIRA: [ugh] "That boy needs to relax." MELANIE: "Or at least find someone else to fuss over!" BASIRA: "Yeah, he’s got it bad." This is top quality office gossip!

BASIRA: "Do you know if he and Jon ever…" MELANIE: "No clue, and not interested! Although… according to Georgie, Jon doesn’t." BASIRA: "Like, at all?" MELANIE: "Yeah." First of all, Georgie randomly telling a mutual that Jon is ace, it that allowed? Second, Melanie randomly telling a mutual (and co-worker!) that Jon is ace... General opinion on the confirmation of an ace character: Yay!!! I don't really know what to think of confirmation happening by mentioning it in bonus material, a lot of people probably won't catch it that way, so having it in the main canon story is great! Then, yeah, it's kind of hard to reveal it when sex isn't really a topic in itself in the story. It comes up very rarely in statements, implied with Tim and towards the end with Georgie and Melanie. So how do you touch upon a topic that isn't really a topic? Have people talk about it and I think the gossip was a good way to handle that. The benefit of the gossip and especially the circumstance of who is telling it makes it vague to leave room for interpretations so people can put him anywhere on the spectrum. The vagueness of certain story points is doing a great service for fan content in my opinion. As someone who asked themself why I had not yet come across proper ace representation in fiction, hearing of poor little meow meow Jon being ace made me so happy!

BASIRA: "No way. I used to love that show. I mean, the first couple of seasons, at least. Took a weird turn in season three, when they introduced –" I heard this may be again a reference to The Black Tapes?? Yes, no, maybe?

ELIAS: "Whatever I’m planning needs to be stopped even if it cost a few lives. Including your own." That's very Gertrude-y of Melanie. Except for the part of risking her own life, that's very Slaughter-y.

Ben's voice acting is so on point!

When I heard Ivy Meadows I immediately knew, this is going to be bad. I remembered very well that this was the care home from MAG 36.

So that knowledge-insertion torture... THAT was the moment I finally decided "Holy shit... Elias really is evil!"

@a-mag-a-day

#a-mag-a-day #mag 106 #tma #tma spoilers

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zee-has-commitment-issues · 2 years

Text

I posted 3,982 times in 2022

That's 3,973 more posts than 2021!

1,833 posts created (46%)

2,149 posts reblogged (54%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@missmeganlee

@the-navistar-carol

@zee-has-commitment-issues

@insomnaticwilmon

@myyoungroyalsblog

I tagged 2,884 of my posts in 2022

Only 28% of my posts had no tags

#young royals - 823 posts

#ask - 758 posts

#anon - 457 posts

#young royals netflix - 310 posts

#unhinged zee hours - 290 posts

#netflix - 166 posts

#yr s2 spoilers - 145 posts

#wilmon - 143 posts

#fanfic - 119 posts

#screwed - 107 posts

Longest Tag: 126 characters

#also you’ve taken my thoughts that i haven’t been able to say and put them out there in a beautifully worded post so thank you

My Top Posts in 2022:

The first 20 minutes of Young Royals had us all thinking Wille was gonna be this super tough, rude, bad boy with an attitude problem, just for him to be a little sunshine beam with anxiety. Like

I’m sorry… wot mate?

880 notes - Posted March 18, 2022

You want to know what we don’t talk about enough?

Simon had the balls to go up and sing a solo after every single person in that hall (adults and students alike) had watched his sex tape. Literally all of them have seen it, and know it’s him, and know it’s wille, and know that wille denied Simon. They all know.

And Simon sings a solo.

Say what you will about Simon, but no one can deny that this boy had balls.

897 notes - Posted May 19, 2022

I don't want to see a single damn person laughing about this picture again and I'll tell you why:

Wilhelm is fighting a panic attack. He is actively battling every ounce of anxiety in his body. He cannot have a panic attack right now. He is on the phone with The Royal Court explaining (albeit not effectively) that he does not want to be King. He does not want to give a speech. He does not want this title. And, yes, this realization and the willingness to call stemmed from stupid teenage bullshit like his ex being out on a date with someone else, but it's a truth nonetheless. Wilhelm is telling the truth. And it makes him anxious.

When you have severe anxiety, it often feels like you are not in control of your body at all. You want to climb out of your skin. We see it with Wilhelm in season 1 when he bangs on his head or picks at his nails. He cannot control it.

In season 2 we see it with his shirt collar, we see it in his inability to keep still, and in the fact that he literally throws up at the thought of talking in front of his classmates. So, yes, getting on the desk was odd and unexpected, but he's actively pushing down years of anxiety. He has been fighting this phone call for years and now he cannot ignore it anymore.

Edvin did a spectacular job with Wilhelm's anxiety this season. He did amazing last season, too, but this is next level. Seeing people laugh at this screenshot makes me physically sick.

2,193 notes - Posted November 1, 2022

There was a Hillerska conspiracy to get Wilmon back together, right? Cuz like…

It was obvious they cheated on the run. No one said a word.

It was obvious Simon’s song was about Wille. No one said a word.

Simon used Wilhelm’s phone at that first party to talk to Sara. No one said a word.

They talked to each other at that party, and talked to people together. No one said a word.

The girls kept trying to figure out the nature of their relationship “was it a one night stand or…?”

They ended up having the last two seat next to each other in class like 4 times. Once makes sense, but FOUR TIMES? People are actively doing that at this point.

Wilhelm på bordet happened, and everyone watched Simon leave upset. No one said a word.

Simon very angrily pelted Wille with a dodge ball after said på bordet scene. No one said a word.

Wilhelm started to come out, and the professional cameras stopped rolling, so every single student pulled out their cellphone to film it instead.

There was a conspiracy there. The Hillerska student body wanted them together.

2,208 notes - Posted November 1, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I want the boys at Hillerska to not care about Simon and Wilhelm being “gay” (its in quotes because Wilhelm is unlabeled but perceived rn as gay) but instead I want them to get back after the break and everyone makes them do the “on the table” thing.

“I said it wasn’t me in the video-“

“And you’re a fucking liar. Get on the chair, Wilhelm.”

2,700 notes - Posted January 20, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #love that I reblogged from myself so much

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subpar-ghoulfriend · 3 years

Text

School Nurse

@letstalkaboutfandomsbaby led me to yet another 2D man that I want to get wrecked by

How would a school nurse react to Hwajin’s presence? Dabauchery will ensue.

AN: this started out as a short little drabble, turned into a long smutty mess that I finally rangled in with romance because… after care. As a nurse I was getting to into the logistics of the pencil stab

TW: smut, degradation, praise kink, breeding kink, power exchange, mild wound description (pencil stab), sex in a nurses office, oral sex

NO MINORS

Hwajin knew you would look good on your knees. You had a bratty, stubborn nature that he wanted to overpower. He thought you were too gentle with trouble makers. When he told you this, you argued that it was your job as a school nurse to take care of all the students.

How was it that you were so hostile with him but when it came to even the worst students you were so gentle. It irritated him. You actively avoided him. Maybe he wouldn't care if he didn't find you so damn adorable. Thoughts of you kept him company late at night.

Even when he forced you to take a baton after he saw a student get in your face yelling. The only person you used it against was him. Apparently you wouldn't allow him to pull students out of your office regardless of their offense.

He was shocked to learn that few students ever bothered you. The worst offenders would constantly make advances at you and since you would have his head, he disciplined them only once you were out of range.

And you were equally irate. He treated you like a child when you tried to present him with research that aggression towards children under the age of 18 was just as detrimental as ignoring their bad behavior. You weren't against addressing the students inappropriate behavior, but the number of visits to your office had tripled upon his arrival.

It become rare that schools had a nurse on campus, barely coming back in to practice following the hands off policy. And at the most part you were mainly treating the faculty and the more unlucky students. If the Ministry of Education wanted to bring in people like Na, would you even have a job much longer?

"What are you doing here? I'm not harboring any students," You hissed as the warden entered your office.

"If I remember correctly, I'm here to oversee the whole school. That includes you. Besides I actually need medical help."

Hwajin turned the lock on the door before unbuttoning his shirt. He turned around to show you a shallow hole between his shoulder blades. You tried to keep the blush from creeping on to your face as you scanned his muscular body.

Apparently a student surprised him by sinking a pencil into his skin.

"Violence breeds violence," You chided when the realization hit. "Oh god, did you kill the student?"

You were truly alarmed. He took slight offense to that question. He wasn't a great guy but he wasn't going to kill someone on the job.

"Just give me something to bandage this up," he rolled his eyes.

You motioned for him to sit on the medical table but of course he had to make things difficult, choosing to straddle a chair instead. In spite of his protests that he could take care of things himself you pulled on a pair of gloves.

"Don't be such a pain, Mr. Na. There's no way you can properly clean what's on your back."

You probed around the wound that was already angry and red. The blood has begun to dry. Trying not to cause unnecessary pain you attempted to visually assess the bed of the wound for any debris that may lead to infection.

Instinctively he howled in pain as you began to clean.

"Will you just put a bandaid over it so I can get back to my job?"

You had to admit you were getting some sick satisfaction from this. The wound was clean and you applied an anti bacterial ointment but it was in a location where the skin tended to pull and stretch so you were sure it would bleed throughout the day-

"Are you smoking in my office?"

Hwajin gave you a cheeky grin before blowing smoke toward your face.

The nerve. In retaliation you flicked the inflamed skin while avoiding the actual wound.

"Ouch, you're cute when you get angry," Na laughed.

Your cheeks were scorching, "Okay Mr Na, you're all wrapped up. Stop by at the end of the day so I can change the bandage."

He winked while buttoning up shirt, "I knew you liked seeing me."

"Out." You hissed.

As he walked down the halls he chuckled to himself. He couldn't wait for you to submit to him.

Through out the day your mind wandered to Hwajin. Him sitting in front of you, shirtless and rippled with muscle. The parts of his skin left unscarred were so soft compared to his attitude. You wondered if his palms were as soft or were they were rough and calloused.

As if on cue the man walked into your office, catching you during one of your fantasies. Was it already the end of the day? Sure enough, the clock showed school let out half an hour ago.

Just like before he secured the door and stripped off his shirt. The bandage wasn't soaked, but it did need to be changed. The day warped your work and some of the tape was lifted away from his skin.

This time politely in the chair, he hummed as you removed and replaced the soiled bandage.

"Starting tomorrow you should just leave it open to air. This is really just to keep you getting your blood on your shirt. If you start thinking you have an infection go to the hospital." You turned around to discard your gloves.

As you turned back, you bumped into Hwajin Na. He smiled down at you and ruffled your hair, "Thanks, nurse, you took such good care of me. You'll have to let me thank you."

He lowered his mouth to your whisper in your ear, "what should I do for you?"

Your were in a losing position, you didn't want to make eye contact but you couldn't stare straight ahead, he still wasn't dressed and it was too overwhelming. You settled on looking down toward his feet.

You quickly snapped your eyes back up when you notice a bulge trying to push past his pants.

"Uh, no need to thank me. It's my job." You stepped back against the wall, at least giving you a bit more space.

Hwajin placed his arms against the wall so he could close the space between you.

"What's wrong? You're flushed. Let's see if you have a fever." He pressed forehead against your. "You feel a bit warm, but not worrisome."

You stammered, "Uh, Mr Na, it's late so we should probably wrap up."

"Mr Na," he mocked you. "Why do you do that? We're both adults, you can call me Hwajin."

Your eyes darted around the room. Maybe you were being punked. Was he testing you?

"It's respectful, it would be rude to call you by your first name."

He brushed a stand of hair behind your shoulder, pleased with your response.

"Well I can think of other titles you could call me that I would enjoy much more."

You were struggling between your desire and your fear of losing your job. Surely he knew what he was doing to you.

Of course he knew, the gleam in his eyes made that clear.

"Well, it's pretty late and I don't know about you but I'm tired after today so I'll see you tomorrow."

He dropped his hands and you took that as the end of his teasing. But instead he hoisted you against him, grasping the back of your thighs.

"My poor little nurse, I've kept you so busy. How about you lay down and let me help you relax."

"Hwajin, put me down," You smacked his shoulder. Listening, he sat you down the cot you constantly sanitized. In spite of what you were saying you allowed him to crawl on top of you.

"Hmm, now you use my first name, little nurse? And here I thought you were respectful," he nipped at your ears.

You shivered.

"Well pick one," You groaned. "First, no last name, then no first name. What's left."

His tongue darted across your neck while began tearing at your clothes, "how about you just be a good girl and call me 'Sir'."

At this point the primal part of your brain took over as you pathetically began to rub against his thigh. Your Irrational brain didn't need a job, it just needed this man to fuck her.

Nearly all your clothes were discarded to the floor as his mouth began to tease your breasts. Your hand tangled in his hair when sink his teeth into your tender flesh.

"Talk to me baby," he sighed. "Use your words, ask for what you want."

You lay out a whimper and tugged at belt loops, "fuck me."

He pinched your in thigh, "Now that's not using your manners. Am I going to need to teach you to behave?"

You mumbled a response that he could barely hear, eliciting another pinch to your thigh.

You huffed, "fine, please fuck me, Sir"

Pleased with your response he tugged your panties to the side, stroking your soaked pussy with his middle knuckle.

"Atta girl. You're so fucking wet for me. How long have you been waiting to be my little slut?"

He slid one finger inside of you with ease, arching you back as moved inside you. You were trying to fumble at his the button of his pants but he pushed your hands off him.

With a growl he removed his hands and your underwear from your body, "Not yet, although I'm flattered how desperate you are for me. Turn over, ass in the air, show me what's mine."

You were happy to obey, sliding into one of your favorite positions.

"You're not be very nice, sir," You teased. "You could at least remove your pants."

His hands came down hard on your ass causing you to cry out in pain and pleasure.

"Watch what you say, unless you like being disciplined. You already know I don't tolerate disobedience. And as much as enjoy your screams, don't forget that just because school is over doesn't mean everyone is gone."

You bite your tongue as he spanked you again. He certainly wasn't holding back. But he was right, there were after school clubs and some teachers stayed as late as 8. His fingers found their way inside your warmth again, fluid dripping from your aching cunt. You had adjust to his rhythm of spanking when his fingers were at their deepest. You felt so close to release. When he withdrew from you yet again.

You let out a frustrated groan until his hand made firm contact with your pussy. Once, twice, three times produce a wet spanking sound. You couldn't hold in your tears, thankful you were a glutton for pain.

"You still with me, princess?" He cooed, getting off the bed. You nodded. "Good girl, hold that position for me just a bit longer."

You nodded again, words evading your mind. You appreciated the coolness produced by the cot. Hwajin repositioned the pillow that had fallen on the floor and removed his belt.

Standing next to you on the bed he finally directed you into another position. He helped you stand, barefoot on the linoleum floor. You were held against his chest as you gathered your bearings.

He nuzzled against your hair, "I'm not a gentle man, if you need to stop at any time you say so okay. And that's an order. Can you do that for me princess?"

You told him you would as he helped you sink your knees to the pillow. He ruffled your hair again, telling you how good you looked. Finally he unzipped his pants, his erect dick right in front of you.

"Look at me."

You complied, tearing your ways away from his cock.

"If you want my dick then prove it. Open up that pretty mouth of yours."

He grabbed you by the hair, guiding your lips his shiny tip. Your tongue circled around him, admiring his taste. You weren't usually self conscious but you couldn't help but be nervous you'd disappoint him. As you began wrap your lips around him, Hwajin inhaled sharply. He gave your hair a gentle tug.

"Eyes on me. Good. You're doing so well. All the way to the base, baby."

You were almost there when there was a knock at your door. Hwajin kept his grip firm on you, instead of allowing you to pull back he shoved his throbbing dick down your throat and began fucking your mouth while putting a finger to his lips. He was smirking like the devil. Your throat constricting in protest.

"Excuse me, nurse," one of the school kids called. Knocking again.

"Fuck," Na muttered as he released into your mouth. Tears spilled over your eyes as you struggled to swallow.

The nock persisted, "hellooo? Come on I need to pick up a physical form."

"She's busy, fuck off."

As the footsteps faded down the hall Na released you from his grasp. He couldn't help but laugh at you when you pouted up at him, your were glistening and your cheeks were rosy and puffy. God, next time he swore he would take a photo of you on your knees after sucking his dick.

"Really, you had to open up your loud mouth," You whined. "You could've just pretended no one was here."

He shrugged in response, helping you off the floor.

This time on the cot you were both undressed. Hwajin sucked and bite on your neck. You nudged him off telling him he was gonna leave a mark.

"You're telling me I can't mark up my little whore?"

"Just not where students can see."

That was fair enough, there were other places he'd rather leave bruises. Between your thighs. Your stomach. Your breasts. Proof that he had made you his.

He wouldn't bite too rough, not want to scare you off. He planned on making more of these moments with you. You were better in person. Exceeding his late night fantasies.

Finally he began to slide his cock inside you, your pussy searing with pleasure at his size. It was a struggle to control the volume of your moans.

"Does my little slut like that? You want me to stuff you?"

"Please," You cried, needing more or his touch. "Please don't stop, Sir. Please let me cum on your dick."

Hwajin began to pound harder into your tight pussy, admiring how your body reacted to the sheer force of him. Each time he snapped his hips against you, your lush breasts, along with the rest of your body, followed with an intoxicating jiggle.

You were exactly what he needed and he wished to consume you. His mind flashed to images of you tied up and exposed for him, placing all of your trust in him. Or he could snap a pretty collar around your neck and tie you to the bed with a leash, you would be begging him to fuck you like a bitch.

"Tell me need me," he growled. "That no one else can fuck you into submission and make you dumb with pleasure. Your mine and I don't share."

Tears rushed down your face as a mixture of pain and desire burst the pressure in your core. You clenched around him, babbling what he instructed you to and meaning every word.

The tightness of your orgasm shocked both you and Hwajin. Paired along with your heat pushed the man past his limit, releasing his thick cum inside of you. Even through the near blinding pleasure of his own release Hwajin felt a moment of worry, he hadn't meant to pour himself inside of you, he was fully aware he wasn't wearing protect and had gotten your consent.

Between your gasps and moans you were were repeating a breathy thank you. Unless he had died and gone to Heaven You were actually begging him for more of his seed. Crying out that you needed him to stuff you full. The man nearly confessed his love for you on the spot.

However he maintained his composure. Pressing closer to you and guiding you through the high of your orgasm.

He combed his fingers through your hair, whispering praises and reassurance. Telling you to relax into him, he wasn't going anywhere. Finally your grip on him relaxed as a gluttonous smile graced your lips.

Na propped himself up next to you with his elbow. His other hand cupping your face.

You looked at Hwajin, "This doesn't mean I'm going to ignore your behavior towards the students."

"You know, seeing you protective over a bunch of snot nosed punks makes me want to fuck you until your nine months pregnant. It would keep you out of my hair while you were stuck waddling around home safe and sound. Win-win."

You gawked at him. Joking that you had yet to see any paternal instincts from him.

"I am actually great with children so long as their raised right. Like hell I'd let my kids turn out like these delinquents."

The two of you bantered back and forth while re-dressing. It was dark by the time you exited the school. Na was lighting a cigarette the minute he was past the schools threshold. You began to tell him goodnight where the two of you should naturally part ways but Hwajin caught you by the wrist, a confused expression thrown your way.

“Where do you think you're going? I'm not done with you yet," he said, cigarette hanging from his mouth. You were about to respond when he cut you off. "Round two will be so much better in my bed. You'll be lucky if You leave my place in time for work tomorrow. But we should probably feed you first. I gotta take care of my little nurse."

#hwajin na #smut

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1kook · 4 years

Text

some way, some how

jeon jungkook x (f) reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The diner.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sojin was... full of surprises.

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

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

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

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

He cut it that same day.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Again, silence.

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

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

“And the paint job?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Actually, I was wondering if—“

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

“A lot,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t know what to say.

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

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

But you can’t because he’s not.

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

“I won’t,” Jungkook promises.

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The one and only.”

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

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

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

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

Jungkook coughs, and you shake yourself from your thoughts.

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

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

Jungkook nods. “Do you and Tae…?”

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

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

You freeze.

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

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

“So, do you use your hands or a toy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A false one that Jungkook zeroes in on.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You know they will.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sojin,” you mumble, and Jimin nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Neither of you laugh.

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

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

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

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

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

“Perfectly okay,” you tell him.

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My dad has cancer,” Sojin says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You remember it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The groceries in your bag end up in the trash.

—

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

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

You deflate.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taehyung snorts. “I totally was.”

—

You hideout for the rest of the week.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate. “Always.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You say nothing.

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

“Since when?” You inquire.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He doesn’t.

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

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

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

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

When you think he’s done, he’s not.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#goldenclosetnet #ksmutclub #networkbangtan #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #jungkook fic #mine

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timextoxhajima · 3 years

Note

hi dana.. if it’s possible can i request some angsty wangsty based on niki la la lost you with eric🥺 and ughh i really love your writing like crazyyyyy

♥ title: la la lost you in april [also part of @sunlightwoo ‘s 12 Months I Loved You collaboration project]

♥ member: tbz eric

♥ genre: f2l, ex! eric x fem! reader, model! eric [SFW!]

♥ warnings: swearing, some mentions of sex [like, once i think]

♥ wc: 3.4k

♥ a/n: sis when i first heard the song I absolutely loved how you used 'angsty wangsty' so I hope this one does it for you the way you imagined it <3 [fyi i wrote it in like, a camcorder recording audio format which is something i’m trying out so please hmu on whether it’s difficult to read/understand!]

[REC: APRIL 2, 2019 - 6:39PM] SOLO LOG #1

Are you seeing this? This is the most beautiful sunset I’ve seen. I gotta get a shot of this-

Hey! Hey! I could help you take a picture with the sunset if you want to!

Oh! Would- Would you? That’d be great!

Of course!

...

Here. Is it alright?

Yeah, yeah, it’s cool! Thank you so much!

Are you recording something? Is it a- Are you vlogging? Are you a vlogger?

Yeah, no... I’m actually on a solo trip for a bit.

Oh, where are you from?

Just the next state.

Ah! You’re taking a break off... life then? I assume? Sorry if that came out weird.

No! No no! It’s alright! Yeah, I just needed a short break from... y’know, school and everything. My semester ended pretty early on so I took the chance to come out here and... see some new sights, meet some new people.

I get that. Well, for a start, what’s your name?

Oh, I’m y/n. Nice to meet you! And you?

I’m Eric.

[REC: APRIL 4, 2019 - 10:34PM] SOLO LOG #2

It is the 4th of April, 2019. I know, I know, I’m meant to do a daily vlog for all the 50 days I’m here but... it’s been... wow. Um... so I met Eric, the first day I touched down. The beach is just, about a 10 minute walk down and the sunsets are absolutely gorgeous. But uh... call me a fool and say that I’m living in the clouds but- what are the chances?

He’s funny, he’s such a great person to be around with y’know? Never a moment of like, awkwardness or stress and my God, look at me talking about a boy like that, though I met him 2 days ago.

...

Um, he’s a freelance model. For those freelance shoots by UNIQLO or Target or something and he complains about the pay sometimes, but he looks good infront of a camera, so he’s... actually the one who won at life, really.

I’m not seeing him soon because he’s got a shoot out of town and he’ll be back next week. But I did get his number and he’s been texting me since.

...

Wouldn’t it be funny if we end up together and then I have this whackass of a reel to show him? Jesus... I need to stop getting ahead of myself here. Freakin’ living in the clouds, aren’t I?

...

Anyway, I’m gonna go and see if I can get my weird projector shit up and working. See you.

[REC: APRIL 7, 2019 - 5:14AM] SOLO LOG #3

It is... 5am... uh, April 7th- and I was just binging FRIENDS through the night, waiting for the sunrise before I get some shut eye and then... Eric just asked me out. Oh my God! Um, he’s coming back this Thursday and I’ll go see him at the airport before we go get dinner.

It was really funny ‘cause he had to wake up early for a shoot today and so his day has just begun but mine’s coming to an end and I just- I’m rambling so much, it’s kinda- it’s kinda sad, isn’t it?

I think I’m too happy to sleep right now so I’m just gonna text him some more before the sun rises- oh! He replied!

...

Anyway, I’m gonna go and finish up this last episode before sleeping. Hopeful I can sleep. Bye!

[REC: APRIL 11, 2019 - 4:28PM] SOLO LOG #4

I am on my way out right now to go meet Eric at the airport, and I’m... it’d be an understatement to say that I’m excited. I know I’ve only known him for like, 2 days before he left but... I miss him. Is that possible? Missing someone despite knowing them for 2 days?

Anyway, I gotta go. Don’t wanna be late to see him.

[REC: APRIL 13, 2019 - 10:23AM] SOLO LOG #5

Oh! Is that what you had-

Yeah! It’s the same camera!

What are you vlogging for, actually? Like-

Nothing, really. It’s just for my own usage-

Wait, you didn’t like set that up last night while we-

Oh, God, no! Who do you think I am?

I don’t know, I mean, we’ve known each other for... is it two weeks-

Just under two weeks-

Jeez-

I know, I know, oh my God.

...

I don’t regret it though. Yeah, like- I don’t really go down to the beach that often in the first place and it just- it just so happened that you were there that day and I saw you struggling with this old thing-

I was not struggling!

Yeah you were!

I wasn’t-

I’m kidding! Gosh, you’re so cute.

...

Are you gonna have the camera recording while this carries on?

I forgot it was on-

One day we’re gonna accidentally make a sex tape-

Eric!

[REC: APRIL 17, 2019 - 1:15AM] SOLO LOG #6

-ould you pass me the hot water?

Mm? What?

The kettle over on the counter. Careful, it’s hot. Yeah, thanks.

Do you need help with-

It’s just instant noodles, sweet. Doubt I need a diploma for this. You’re recording again?

Yeah, does it bother you?

No, no, ‘course not. Though that means I can’t really do whatever I want to now.

What does that mea-

...

I can... still taste that bit of milk tea you had just now-

Could you tell it’s zero sugar?

I don’t think that matters, it’s still sweet and not great for your health to have that so much.

Aw, and yet you’re the one who suggested noodles at this timing, yeah?

You were hungry too!

...

Here, it’s done. Help me get the bowls?

Did you even wash these?

Yeah, I did. If you don’t trust me, you can run them under the water for a bit.

Mhm. Here.

If it’s not enough, we can call for Macs.

Y’know, I’ve never had Macs past midnight back at home.

What? Really? Well, when you get back in May, would you try?

Yeah, why not? Maybe I’ll do that when I’m back in school.

...

What date is it today?

April... hold on, um, 17. Careful, that’s hot.

...

When are you leaving again?

May 22.

Are you planning on coming back anytime soon after?

I don’t know. I have school to worry about and the only other time I can come back’s probably during winter break in November.

...

I won’t be around in November.

Mm? Why not?

I’m moving.

To where?

I’m not sure yet, but I need to move depending on whether I get it and where the shoot’s at.

Shoot? It’s a big project, huh?

Yeah, it’s- it’s a pretty big deal.

...

I’ll- Let me just go and...

[REC: APRIL 20, 2019 - 7:49PM] SOLO LOG #7

-idn’t have to!

No, c’mon! It’s such a great time to get this on camera! Come on, tell us what just happened!

Well, I just scored a huge model contract with Calvin Klein - in Manhattan.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! I’m so fucking proud of you, oh my God! Can you believe it-

No, fuck off, I can’t either!

Oh! Calvin Klein!

...

I swear, you’re an angel sent to me-

Fuck off!

I’m serious! it’s so timely- I just can’t- I’m just so happy to have met you.

...

Well, you heard it first here, ladies and gentlemen. Eric Sohn is a new model for Calvin Klein - Manhattan.

[REC: APRIL 21, 2019 - 12:40PM] SOLO LOG #8

It is 12.40pm... April 21st, 2019. I’m finally back in my apartment after crashing at Eric’s for the last... 10 days? I think it was 10 days. My clothes were running out and I didn’t want to hike up his water bills so I just came back and- y’know did my own laundry.

...

Well, it’s- it’s been an absolute dream. The last thing I expected to... have, or meet? Here, is Eric. Um, but I know I’m probably going to regret this. Especially when May 22 comes. Uh... this is... it’s real bad. I mean, we’re great, y’know? But... it’s bad, because I know it’ll hurt. Like a bitch. When my time here is up, and I gotta go back to my reality, and Eric’s gotta stick to his.

We haven’t really talked about it. May. I don’t think he wants to, and I don’t think I want to either. 50 days is too short. Either that, or I shouldn’t have come here in the first place. I shouldn’t have gone to the beach that day, in that hour.

...

I just wish we had more time. I wish 24 hours were... maybe about 100 seconds more per minute. Does that make sense? 160 seconds per minute. Then again, I don’t think that’d solve my problem. I’ll still be on a ticking... time bomb.

...

I know I shouldn’t say this. I know I can’t. I know I can’t afford to. But... I... I love him. I love Eric. With every... bit of me. It’s so... disgustingly cliché, but I feel so... comfortable with him. There’s really nothing we’d fight about, and even if we disagreed on something, we’d play it off like a debate, then forget about it the next day.

...

I love him. I do. And I’m going to regret this later. Without a doubt.

...

[REC: APRIL 27, 2019 - 2:02AM] SOLO LOG #9

-ou can see the stars?

I don’t know, that’s why I’m trying, sweet.

...

Can you see them?

Yeah, maybe if I just turn this ISO- Oh! I can kinda see the North Star-

Oh! Yeah, you can! It’s really feint though.

Right.

It’s okay, we can just lay it down here-

On the grass? Will your camera be fine?

Yeah, yeah, or else you can just put in on top of my bag- here.

...

Here, can you see me? Am I in frame?

Yeah, you’re in frame.

Okay, great. Now get over here!

...

I can taste the smoothie you had just now.

Too sweet?

A little.

...

Oh my God! Put me down! Oh- not there! It’s ticklish- AHHHHH!

...

y/n, I have something to tell you.

Mm? What is it?

...

Hello? Earth to Eric?

I... I love you. So much... and I can’t bear to see you go in May.

Oh, Eric...

No, I- I don’t want you to stay- or even think about it, ‘cause, you have your priorities and I have mine y’know...

Mhm.

I just... I just wished we had more time.

I do too. I really do.

...

Eric?

Hm?

I love you too.

...

[REC: MAY 1, 2019 - 4:23AM] SOLO LOG #10

1st May. 4...30? Am? I believe. Um, Eric’s sound asleep in his bed and I couldn’t sleep so I decided to do a log.

...

I have... 3 weeks left. 4 weeks have gone past just like that, and I don’t know what to think about it. I came for a 50-day retreat. No stress, just myself and peace and quiet and tranquility and yet-

...

I- I don’t know if I can do this.

...

[REC: MAY 7, 2019 - 3:58PM] SOLO LOG #11

So, Eric’s in shoot right now and I’m on the way into the studio with some donuts and coffee to surprise him. I called his manager and asked if it was okay so- I’m pretty psyched to see his workspace.

...

Hi, I’m y/n, I’m here to visit Eric?

Ah, okay! Hold on, let me just get you signed in with the pass-

Count me in!

You sure? This Saturday at the prep-party?

Yeah- Oh!

Eric!

y/n! What are you doing here?

I wanted to surprise you. Am I... interrupting anything?

Oh, not at all!

You must be y/n! Eric’s told me so much about you!

Did he? And you are...?

I’m Chelsea! I’ve been attached to the same Calvin Klein contract he recently got, so you could say we’re colleagues!

Well, nice to meet you! Oh, right, these donuts and coffee are meant for you guys actually!

Oh! You’re too kind! Eric, you’re such a lucky man.

I know, she’s just... everything.

Anyway, thank you so much for these. I’ll bring them back down to the studio for the crew to share. But Eric’s pretty much done for the day actually, so you guys can leave if you want to!

Are you sure? Don’t you need help downstairs with the equipment?

No, no! It’s fine, there’re more than enough people downstairs. Go have your date, and maybe you can bring her along with you for the prep-party this weekend!

What’s the prep-party... preparing for?

Oh, you’re so adorable! It’s a prep-party for the end-of-May shoot we’re gonna have. it’s a collab with DAZED so it’s a pretty big project.

You never told me you were involved in a collab with DAZED.

I was gonna tell you today.

He has been pretty busy recently, maybe slipped his mind. Anyway, thank you so much for the donuts and I’ll hope to see you at the pier this Saturday, mm?

Yeah, sure. Thanks Chels.

No problem! It was so nice to meet you, y/n, I’ll see you Saturday!

Okay, bye!

Bye, Chelsea! It was nice to meet you!

Bye!

...

Sweet, why didn’t you tell me you were coming?

I wanted it to be a surprise. I thought you said you’d end pretty late?

The filming was cut short because the shots were better than expected so we ended early.

Oh, I wanted to film you while you were at work.

You have that on?

Yeah- why?

No, just wondering.

Are you uncomfortable?

No, no, it’s just... I really didn’t expect you to come to the studio.

...

[REC: MAY 11, 2019 - 11:12PM] SOLO LOG #12

It’s 11:12pm, 11th May, 2019. 11 days to departure.

...

I... saw... Chelsea and Eric... um, out by the garage-

...

Well, I guess... it looked like they were just... having a really good talk. Or something.

...

I left. I couldn’t watch it. So, I left without telling Eric. I did tell his boss that I wasn’t feeling well and I had to leave first.

...

I guess this is the part where I regret it, isn’t it? Um... I don’t know... how... I’m gonna explain this to him when I see him again. Which is supposed to be- um- the rest of the night. I was supposed to go back to his place with him and I’ll stay for the weekend before I come back to pack my things, so-

...

y/n, are you home?

...

shit.

y/n, I know you’re home. I heard you talking. Open the door, I need to talk to you.

...

[REC: MAY 12, 2019 - 2:00AM] SOLO LOG #13

...

I look like shit, don’t I? God, my eyes hurt like a bitch.

...

I don’t think I need to say what just happened for you to guess what just happened, right? This... says it all.

...

Fuck.

...

I shouldn’t have come here. How did- How did my retreat turn out- turn out like this?

...

This is- This is too much. Too much in too short... of a time.

...

I don’t think... I don’t think I can do it. Not anymore.

...

[REC: MAY 19, 2019 - 9:59AM] SOLO LOG #14

It’s May 19th, 2019, almost 10am. I just came back from a morning walk by the beach just to... reminisce a little before I leave on Wednesday.

...

I... haven’t seen Eric since the prep-party. I blocked him and I told him not to come over, though I think he has, like, a few times. I thought I heard someone come up to my door, but he never knocked.

...

So, this is how it ends, huh? A 50-day romance cut short like that. Into about, 40?

...

It’s crazy to think that I had... the experience of a whole relationship in 40 days. I definitely did not sign up for that when I booked this 50-day retreat.

...

It was fun while it lasted, though. It was. I don’t think I’d find anybody else like Eric, and I guess it just sucks that it had to end like that. Things happen, right? That aren’t... in our control.

...

[REC: MAY 21, 2019 - 8:07PM] SOLO LOG #15

May 21st. About 8pm. I leave in about 15 hours.

...

All my stuff’s packed. Definitely more things to bring home than I brought here. Half of these things were bought by Eric and given to me. I’m... actually not sure if I should bring them back.

...

I don’t- I just don’t think I’d have the heart to throw them away.

...

Nor look at them when I’m home.

...

Should I even bring this camera home? Maybe I should wipe your memory before I bring you home, hmm?

...

It feels like a dream, doesn’t it? Everything that’s happened. It feels like a fever dream. Maybe when I’m finally home, I’d wake up and it’d be the day I come here.

...

Maybe.

...

[REC: MAY 22, 2019 - 10:03AM] SOLO LOG #16

-ny more luggage?

Nope.

Alright then, I think you’re all set. You still have about an hour’s time before the gates are open so you can get a cup of coffee or something, yeah?

Okay, thank you!

Have a nice flight ma’am.

Thanks.

...

Good evening ma’am, can I check your boarding pass?

Yeah, sure.

...

Okay, you’re good to go. Have a safe flight.

Thank you!

...

[REC: MAY 22, 2019 - 11:34AM] SOLO LOG #17

It is about 11.30am and I’m on the flight, and here’s the view outside. Sky’s pretty clear and this thing says that the weather’s great so, it should be a smooth flight without turbulence.

...

This is it. This is really it.

...

Um-

Hi, ma’am, I’m gonna need you to keep your camcorder.

Oh! Yeah, sure, sure, sorry!

[REC: APRIL 2, 2020 - 12:48AM] ERIC LOG #1

Wow, this is... weird. How did you do this last year?

...

Um, hi. y/n. If you’re watching this then I’ve somehow managed to get this synced into your camera by some weird... bluetooth, iCloud shit that Felix helped me figure out.

...

It’s been a year. And... I just thought you should... see this, or hear me out, at least. I know we didn’t end on the best terms... and I’m sorry. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have yelled at you for being unreasonable for something that was... suspicious. I should’ve understood.

...

I should’ve been there. To see you off. And I’m sorry I didn’t. I... was scared, that I wouldn’t be able to let you go if I went to send you off. I was a coward. I still am.

...

But I do want you to know that... those 50 days were the best days of my life. Albeit it ended horribly, but nothing could... nothing- nothing will ever replace what happened last April.

...

I said I love you and... I still do. Every day I think about you and your smile and your voice and- and I cry to sleep... worrying that I’d forget how you sound like, or how you laugh and how... how you smell like. My bed smelt like you even after you left.

...

I just- I love you. And I miss you. And I’d do anything to go back to what we had. I’d do anything to get- to get you back.

...

I’m sorry.

...

the clip comes to an automatic stop. the white triangle slapped onto the screen, begging you to play it again. you look up from the screen, watching the famous calvin klein ad that hasn’t stopped playing in the last month.

he hasn’t changed one bit. not his hair, not his smile, not his voice.

it’s a bittersweet pot of memory stashed in the back of your head when the memories flood back. looking back down at the camera, you count back the days - it was synced just last night.

the pile of tissues by your thighs are carelessly huddled into the bin next to your feet, mentally berating yourself for going through the memory instead of formatting it.

you stand, fingers shutting the screen back onto its body with a soft click. the tv blacks out when you press the red button on its remote.

you’re halfway into your kitchen when there’s a knock at your door, and you immediately gasp, blinking rapidly.

“oh, it’s my fucking projector!”

rushing to the door, you don’t hesitate to get the door open.

and yet, like the heavens were providing you with all the light to stop you from doubting yourself, your lungs empty themselves like vacuums.

your heart stops.

your breathing stops.

“eric... what are you doing here?”

222 notes · View notes

babyjamiebarnes · 3 years

Text

Build-A-Bear

Part Twelve

Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, dad!Tony, Steve, Sam, bff!Peter Parker

Warnings: language, mentions of smut/sex tapes, blackmail/threatening

Summary: With Tony now on your side, you and Bucky are able to take steps toward stopping your blackmailer — until things take a dark turn.

Author’s Note: Ugh, it’s not as long as I’d like it to be but it’s a good lead-up to the final chapter and I won’t feel so bad about taking forever if I finally get something out there 😖 I haven’t been in the best headspace lately but things are kind of looking up so hopefully I get the conclusion out faster 😞

Series Masterlist

Tags: @amourmarvel @fangirlvoice @kennedywxlsh @devilswaldorf @what-the-hap-is-fuckning @alyispunk @fredweasleysbitchh @wearegroot @sunflowerbebe107 @prestigious-tea @brckenmemories @angelbabymed @charmedbysarge @cruelsummer-s @fandomlovver @ahahafudge @thebivirgin

You thanked every deity in existence that there wasn’t enough room for you and four grown men in the Jeep because your dad had to drive separately from you, Bucky, Steve, and Sam. Once the doors shut, however, there was one question lingering in the air.

“So… how’d it go?” Sam asked.

Bucky let out a sigh.

“I’m still alive,” he deadpanned.

“Are you gonna… you know… stay that way?” Sam asked slowly.

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips at the question. And when Bucky glanced over at you, he laughed quietly too. Which led to Steve chuckling at him and Sam smiling at the way he (unintentionally) relieved some of the gravity of the situation.

Bucky’s shoulders relaxed a bit for the rest of the drive, but you caught him growing tense again when you all met your dad in the underground parking garage. It was the only place in your apartment building with no windows and no audio, but you knew there was video surveillance. There was a chance your stalker had access to the video, most likely through hacking the system, but they wouldn’t know what was being said. As you approached your father, he pulled what looked like two sniper rifles out of the backseat.

“Barnes, Wilson. You’re coming with me,” he said.

“Dad,” you chastised, assuming he was only taking Bucky with him to keep him from you.

“He was a World War II sniper, [Y/N]. It makes sense to have him using a scope to check where this psycho was watching you.”

You were silent in response, mostly because you knew he was right. And you’d still have Steve with you in your apartment, so it’s not like you’d be left alone.

Bucky immediately checked the safety and pulled back the bolt handle to make sure it was fully unloaded. He didn’t expect it to have anything in the chamber since there was no magazine, but he learned to take extra precaution. And just like when he cleared your apartment all those months ago, something about seeing him wield the power of a firearm made you shiver. How very American of you.

“These are all connected to a secure line,” Tony continued as he handed everyone the type of flip phone you had in middle school. “I hope you all remember how to text the old fashioned way because we’re not calling unless absolutely necessary. Considering what was in the video,” his jaw clenched as his eyes shot daggers at Bucky, “there are probably audio and video devices all over the apartment.”

“We scanned for that when we first started staying with her,” Sam said. “I just figured the video was taken before her identity was released.”

What he said just solidified Steve’s assumption. You definitely knew who was blackmailing you.

“It was after,” you said. “It was… that night was shortly after the…” you hesitated. Everyone looked at you patiently, but you could see Bucky take a subtle step away from your dad. He knew when the video was taken. “Um, it was shortly after the, uh, the pregnancy scare.”

All eyes moved to Bucky and Tony. The emotions that flickered across your dad’s face clearly showed his thoughts: shock, confusion, realization... You wouldn’t be surprised if this was the straw that broke the camel’s back; Bucky must’ve had the same thought as he darted to stand behind you.

“The what?!” Tony barked. “You — Barnes! I’m gonna —” He cut himself off and just huffed out a heavy breath, his hands curled into fists by his side and his jaw tight in an attempt to calm himself down.

“Not to make things worse but it takes two,” you said. “I was a willing participant.”

“But did it have to be with him?!”

“Dad!”

“I’m just saying, pumpkin, it could’ve been Parker!”

“He’s a kid!”

“And he,” your dad countered, pointing at Bucky, “is a senior citizen!”

“Oh my god,” you groaned. “I’m not having this conversation now. We’ll argue about my taste in men later. Go check out the buildings.”

You twisted on your heel and pulled Bucky down for a very unnecessary kiss. You knew it pissed your dad off, but he was being so frustrating! With a snap of his fingers, Tony got Sam and Bucky to follow him out the doors to the street where they would split up and check out the buildings within view of your kitchen and bedroom to see which one the photos were taken from.

Steve led you up to your apartment so you two could stand in the kitchen for everyone to look for from their respective buildings. You hopped up onto the counter while Steve leaned against the fridge across from you, arms crossed and brow furrowed as your eyes met.

“I think you’re right,” you said plainly. Steve held his finger up to his lips and pulled out the flip phone. You were kind of shocked he knew how pre-smart phone texting worked, but he continued to surprise you.

What makes you say that?

It’s not easy to get in this building. It’s even harder to get in my apartment.

Right as you hit send, a familiar jolt of realization shot up your spine. There was one major thing all of you were forgetting. You leaped off the counter and ran to your bedroom with Steve hot on your heels. In your earlier panic, none of you thought to look for a camera in the bedroom. There’s only one angle that video could’ve been taken from and it would’ve had to be inside your room.

If your memory served you correctly, the camera would’ve been set up somewhere on or near your bookshelf. Steve stood in the doorway while you scanned through all your books. You practically knew your setup by heart, so catching the skinny book that was out of place didn’t take long.

You turned to face Steve as you said, “I don’t have a hard cover copy of ‘Romeo and Juliet.’” You turned back to glare at the book and mumbled, “I actually hate ‘Romeo and Juliet’.”

The book was pretty thin, making it stand out even more in your extensive collection, but the title was written in a clear, elegant script along the spine. It almost made you question your own memory — until you noticed the ballpoint-sized hole near the bottom. The black background made it almost indistinguishable, but when you pulled it from the shelf, the hole was evident. And when you pulled it open, you found wires inside the cut-out pages and a small camera tucked against the hole in the spine.

“That fucker didn’t even clean up after himself,” you spat, throwing the pseudo-book onto your mattress. Steve picked it up and checked it out before calling Peter.

“Hey, if I send you a camera, can you see if it’s being wirelessly streamed to a separate device?” Your head snapped back to Steve at those words. When did the old man become so well-versed with tech? The last you knew, he struggled to take an iPhone video. Just a few months ago, he asked what the difference was between a flash drive and a hard drive.

While Steve talked to Peter, you walked back to the kitchen to see if the other boys were all in place. You didn’t have the scopes and binoculars they did, but you could still take a guess at which building your stalker took the photos from.

There weren’t many buildings high and close enough for that kind of angle and clarity, but the one you eyed most was just a bit to your left and a couple stories above where your apartment sat in your building. It wouldn’t be cheap to get a place like that, which made you start to doubt Steve’s assumption.

As you stood in the floor-to-ceiling window frame of your kitchen, your flip phone started buzzing in your hand.

“Yeah?” you answered.

“Don’t say anything that might give us away, in case there’s a recording device in your apartment,” Tony said. “I’m in the building right across from you but the angle doesn’t feel right. I think your boy toy is in the right place.”

As if on cue, Steve stepped beside you and answered his phone.

“Hey, Buck.”

“Sounds like you’re right,” you said to your dad. “He just called Steve.”

“We’ll meet you in the parking garage.” With that, your line went dead.

“Okay, meet us downstairs,” Steve said before ending his own call. “Buck’s pretty sure he found the apartment the photos were taken from. Sent the address to Parker so we should get contact info soon.”

You just nodded and headed downstairs again. Things were finally starting to look up. You had two new leads on top of anything Peter, Pepper, and Happy had found and prayed they somehow linked back to Steve’s accused.

Unfortunately, your optimism was shattered when everyone met back up in the garage. Before anyone could say a word, your personal cell started ringing, but the caller ID was... Bucky.

No one said a word as you all met beside the Jeep and you showed everyone the “James 🐻” ringing on your screen, resulting in a lot of confused looks. Bucky pulled his phone out of his pocket and proved he wasn’t accidentally butt-dialing you, freezing your blood in your veins.

“They’re spoofing,” Tony concluded.

“Answer it,” Steve said.

“Put it on speaker,” Sam added quickly.

You nodded as you pressed “accept,” doing your best to keep your voice steady and unbothered.

“Hello?”

“You’ve really done it now, [Y/N].” The voice on the other end said slowly. They were clearly distorting the sound and you’d bet they couldn’t be traced. They’d never be that stupid. “Have your boyfriend search your name.”

You looked up at Bucky who was scrambling to search your name on his phone… and immediately paled. He almost looked like he had seen a ghost, though you’d argue what he actually saw was so much worse.

“They released the video.”

Your throat constricted as you tried to not literally throw up at those four words. And when Bucky shuffled beside you to show you the top results under your name, you weren’t sure how long you could hold it back. The first page of results was just news articles about your sex tape even though it had been released only 20 minutes ago. You snatched Bucky’s phone and clicked the link to the video and sure enough, it was you and Bucky. Two hours of you and Bucky.

“You son of a bitch,” you practically growled into the phone. “That wasn’t part of your fucking deal.”

“You took away my first bargaining chip so I played my second. And believe me, I’ve got plenty more videos. You two are quite the pair,” the unnaturally deep voice snarked. “But now you also know lives will be lost if you don’t listen. You now have three days or that man and his family die.”

The line cut out then, leaving everyone standing in stunned silence.

“I’ll get Pep on taking down the video,” Tony muttered before pulling his phone out to text Pepper. “We’ll have to swing by a couple banks and pull out the money.”

“Dad, I don’t want you to bail me out,” you practically whined.

“We don’t have any other option, [Y/N],” he snapped. “You don’t have to give a shit about him releasing sex tapes of you and the Vibranium Vibrator,” Bucky cringed at that nickname, “but I know you won’t let that other kid’s family die. We’ll keep trying to track them down, but we have to be prepared.”

You sighed. You knew he was right. If you ended up finding the culprit, if Steve was right, you could just put the money back. Plus, two million out of your father’s billions wasn’t enough to break him.

“Okay, fine. Let’s get ready,” you mumbled.

Steve interjected before anyone moved too far.

“I have a plan.”

#bucky x stark!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x stark!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes series #Stark!reader

197 notes · View notes

moonbaby26 · 3 years

Text

(gif from Jason Passaro’s youtube edit here)

Title: One Shitty Friday Night (Part 2) *contains some smut*

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Set after the events of Deadpool 2, this is the conclusion from the previous part here. After your semi-disastrous double date night, you, Peter, Kitty, and Colossus head home with Deadpool and Russell in tow to face Logan, Charles, and Erik back at the mansion. You also get some well earned alone time with Peter at last, only to go back to chaos the following morning with Peter confronting Gambit, and Deadpool popping back in.

Warnings: It’s still a bit of Deadpool and all that entails, but only at the beginning and end. *In this part there actually is some Peter x Reader sex.* But you’re welcome to skip over that if uncomfortable with it. I clearly mark in red before and after any smut within the story so readers can choose what to read and still enjoy just the fluff and character interactions before and after if wanted. ❤️

Peter Maximoff x Reader Masterlist

——————————

The ride home was surprisingly quiet actually. Colossus driving, with Kitty sitting shotgun in the front with him. Russell was in the second row seat behind Kitty, but the seat that normally would have been behind the driver had been taken out specifically with Colossus in mind to let his seat sit further back with his large height.

That just left the third row of three seats. With Peter still not in the best mood, you’d chosen to sit between him and Wade. But they’d mostly just been snacking on the cannolis the whole way home rather than saying or doing much of anything else.

You’d only eaten two in all, hungry but not wanting a stomach ache from the sweetness. You’d felt your own phone buzzing in your pocket most the way home too, but you refused to look at it yet. You could only imagine which friends were trying to call or text you about whatever was being said on TV and the internet now.

Kitty only told you that she’d messaged Xavier to tell him you were all on your way home. But you weren’t sure if she’d warned him about Deadpool and Russell coming with you. Or if she’d kept her phone out at all either afterward, afraid of what the Professor might say in response.

It could have been worse was what you kept thinking. It had been worse actually. Deadpool had once killed an Essex House staff member on live TV, while wearing an X-Men shirt, and with Colossus and Negasonic Teenage Warhead also in camera view. But, given that that trouble had already come from him once, would the Professor be harder on you all this second time around? Would he still think you handled the situation as well as you could have or not?

By the time you felt the familiar turns up the long drive to the mansion, you realized that the period for anxiety was over. Whatever would be would now be.

Colossus had decided to park right in front the main entry doors instead of pulling down into the garage. Mostly just in case Wade’s welcome wasn’t a warm one. He could step right back outside if needed instead of already being in the depths of the compound.

Russell was actually the first one to speak though as you all climbed out the vehicle in front of the well manicured landscaping and dim accent lights.

“Holy shit, he is a rich son of a bitch.” The boy spoke, gaping a little at the sheer size of the mansion and the number of floors still above you.

“The cursing, Russell, please.” Colossus reminded. “There are younger children who live here.”

“Though they should be in bed,” Kitty responded, albeit sounding doubtful herself as she started up the entryway stairs.

They might normally be yes, but probably not if the rumor mill of tonight’s excitement was already burning through the place.

“Well I’ve actually never seen more than three people anytime I’ve been here. So there’s that,” Deadpool quipped.

“Yeah well, we were probably busy.” Peter retorted.

“Oh? Well yeah, maybe you were.” Wade replied, eyeing Peter. “Here’s a thought though, Peters. Maybe next time Ryan Murphy calls, just say N-O. No means no, right?”

“What-” Peter started to ask, but then thought better of it. It really wasn’t worth trying to piece together anything else Deadpool said into something more sensical right now.

As Kitty pushed open the doors and you all strode into the large foyer in front the main staircases, you weren’t sure what would be awaiting you. But the immediate, utterly ecstatic squeal that erupted from Deadpool next had all of you jumping before a gruff voice responded from up on the second floor landing.

“You have to be goddamn shitting me. You actually let that idiot follow you home?” Logan responded, the odd mix of disgust and annoyance so clear on his unshaven face.

“I thought you said no cursing here,” Russell complained.

“Logan is sometimes another matter...” Colossus attempted to answer with some neutrality, even as Deadpool was now bounding up the stairs towards the older man.

“Finally! Finally! I don’t even care if it’s just Tumblr and like two people and their FBI agents will see this! Beggars can’t be choosers! I missed you so much, papa bear!”

You stood there staring in complete disbelief, Deadpool looking as if he was actually going to try and hug the Wolverine.

You were likely all of the same mindset about the only way this could possibly play out, but Colossus was the only one to speak, pleading really. “Please, Logan! No blood on the inside of the house! You know how badly it would stain the floors!”

But Wolverine only growled, claws already aimed as Wade stopped just millimeters short, the metal tips now grazing the mercenary’s throat. “You heard him, Wade. Don’t give me a reason and you won’t be having to regrow limbs tonight.” Logan replied.

“You salty old bastard. We haven’t even seen each other in ages, you won’t return my calls, and this is the welcome I get?” Deadpool pouted.

“You’re bad luck walking, Wade. These kids don’t need you hanging around here for long.”

“Oh, and you’re such a tasteful role model. Grandpappy Wolverine teaching a class on cigar chain smoking, and stabbing your problems away this semester?”

“The fuck are you on about? How many people have you killed this month alone, Wade?”

“Twenty four and a half, thank you. And ask me how many of those never killed or raped someone themselves. How many the police never would have touched. What do you think I’ll say there?”

“Reason it all you want, bub. You’re just a wack job vigilante.”

“This could go on all night.” Kitty sighed. “Logan! Where is everyone else? We brought Russell with us, we need to take him to the Professor.”

Wolverine only softened slightly at Kitty’s voice, answering her. “Charles put in a curfew tonight, all students back to their rooms. Wade’s not allowed past the entrance, but the Professor is waiting for you in his study.”

“Discrimination.” Wade huffed, yet then posed in a mock seductive look. “But if you wanted me alone tough guy, all you’d have to do is ask.”

“Please do not make a mess, Logan. We will be back to collect him as soon as we can.” Colossus said with some concern, you all just starting towards the hallway that lead to Xavier’s office.

“No promises.” Logan called back before continuing, louder then so you could hear him even as you walked away. “And hey, Peter-”

“Yeah?” He answered back from your side, glancing over his shoulder at Logan.

“Your dad’s here, kid.”

Peter paused in his tracks, staring for a moment. You could see the emotions process through him before he took a deep breath. There was nothing more that any of you could do though. He just lifted a hand up in a wave of acknowledgement, finally starting to walk again. “Thanks for the warning,”

Even in all that had happened through the years though, going to see Xavier like this still brought back an odd sense of childhood. And that little feeling of dread to be honest. Not because you really thought he would be angry, but because you worried that you may have disappointed him. Which would have always been the worse of the two options in your own mind.

Colossus was the one to slide the ornate pocket doors open, you all trailing in behind him as you entered the study.

It was warm inside, the fireplace crackling and dancing. That fire was the only light besides a couple small table lamps and a TV now on mute, but still running the late night news.

You were but weren’t surprised to see Erik sitting there as well, a short glass of what looked like scotch in one hand. There was a chessboard as well, positioned between himself and Charles on a little table, the pieces clearly still in play.

As the TV flickered again though, you glanced back to it reflexively. You saw an exterior shot of the restaurant you’d been at only a short time earlier, now with police tape all around. It cut to a video of Colossus walking up to police cars with Giovanni in hand, but then just as quickly the flashing red and blue lights changed to the white flashes of cameras and yourself and Peter talking before the sudden kiss. You only looked to the floor in renewed embarrassment then, choosing not to read the ticker captions currently scrolling beneath the now looping video.

“Hey, Dad...” Peter said somewhat unsure, but still the first to speak. He’d shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket now, as he often did when nervous. “Didn’t know you were in town.”

“Peter.” Erik answered plainly though, taking a sip of his drink before setting it back down. “I only arrived this afternoon. I had been hoping for a quiet evening.” He looked briefly towards the television, but then coolly back to Peter. “But here we are aren’t we?”

“Erik,” Xavier warned lightly though, no doubt sensing Peter tense further at the tone.

“They aren’t children anymore, Charles.” Erik responded sharply. “And it never should have been allowed to get to this point. I told you from the beginning that they should have worn masks, they should have been discreet. Trying to craft this foolhardy public image of the new X-Men as some celebrity clean up crew for humans’ mistakes, it’s making a mockery of us all.”

The exasperated breath that came out of the Professor next told you that this was far from the first time that this subject had come up as a point of contention between the two. But the rest of you were quite helpless whenever Erik and Charles would start to argue in front of you.

Xavier countered, “As I have also said before, Erik, we all knew there would be some negatives from moving more into the public eye with our team. But how can mutant kind ever be accepted for who we really are if we only kept slinking in the shadows for the rest of our lives? It’s no different than Raven showing herself on camera all those years ago. You know what an impact that made on the youth in our community then.”

“But the humans are fickle. The magazines and the talk shows only jest at you now. What happens when they turn on you? When my son’s face is only on a wanted list in a database, Charles? What then?”

The anger and protectiveness flaring up in Erik’s tone only made the room even more uncomfortable, yet you didn’t find yourself surprised. Peter’s relationship with his father would never be an easy one, but you knew in the end that Erik did feel a sense of responsibility towards his progeny. And hell have mercy on anyone who did ever truly harm Wanda, Peter, or Lorna and word of it get back to their father.

Charles remained patient though, likely understanding those paternal emotions all too well himself. The Professor treated you all as well as his own after all. “The ones that wish to harm us already knew who we were, Erik. They don’t need to pick up that gossip drivel to find us. We protect ourselves by staying together, as we always have. They want us, then they’ll have to face us all. And Lord knows even gods have tried.”

Erik frowned, and for a moment you wondered if Xavier was saying something more to him telepathically. Something to make him finally quiet or at least agree to postpone the argument’s continuation for later in private.

Regardless of whether your instincts were correct or not on that, their conversation did end abruptly then. Charles switched to a warmer, but still slightly tired tone as he looked back to the rest of you. “Well, I know you’re all ready for tonight to be over. I won’t keep you much longer. Kitty, if you could make sure that weapon you confiscated ends up locked in Hank’s lab tonight, we’ll see about it later. Given that those men would not need something so extravagant just to dispose of other humans, I’m certain it was developed or at least purchased with our kind in mind. We will learn what we can.”

She nodded in agreement before he then turned his attention to the, to this point, uncharacteristically silent Russell with a kind look. “And Russell, I appreciate you deciding to give us a second chance. You’re welcome to stay of course. Did you still wish to speak to me? I know it’s late. Don’t feel obligated to stay and talk if this is all a bit much right now. We can always go over more about the school in the morning.”

“Um...” The boy blinked, not quite ready it seemed for any of the focus to be back on him so soon. And it was only then that you realized it was Erik that Russell kept staring at as he tried to formulate a real response. Actually Erik and briefly back to Peter, that tell tale look on the boy’s face that you’d seen so many times before when people realized who Peter really was, who his father was. Russell was maybe even regretting picking on Peter earlier now.

Charles certainly hadn’t missed that though. Surely sensing all the boy’s thoughts and feelings now as he continued. “It’s alright, Russell. Yes, Magneto does stop in here from time to time. We’re old friends. Yet I hardly think you should be so concerned with him when you’ve already gotten on quite well with my stepbrother haven’t you?” Xavier was actually smiling then. “To get on the Juggernaut’s good side, if even briefly, is quite impressive I must say.”

That did seem to finally break the ice a little then as Russell looked back to Charles. “Yeah, I... I needed a prison friend. A big one.”

“He is that, certainly,” The Professor responded. “Yet to answer the other questions still running through your mind -and forgive me to read you- but of course you can absolutely train with us to better learn to control your fire powers if you’d like. And yes, you may also have a television in your room. I think that’s a reasonable request after living in less than desirable conditions with Wade for this long.”

“Yeah, there were rats and the old blind lady sells cocaine.” Russell answered so matter of factly that the rest of you, minus Charles who was evidently now fully aware of Russell’s recent memories, all just stared.

“Despite his, ah, unique flaws, I can say that Wade would never willingly let anything happen to you.” Xavier just continued. “But yes, it would likely be best to give you a bit more sanitary and less illegal living conditions. And of course this would all be voluntary, if you find you don’t like it here after all, you’re always free to go as well.”

“Cool. Yeah.” Russell agreed. Though not really sure what else to say.

“Wonderful,” Charles just looked back to Colossus and Kitty then. “Can you two please see Russell to one of the empty rooms so he may pick one out to sleep tonight? And please let Wade know of his decision to stay for now.”

Colossus spoke up though before they all walked out together, “And am I sending Wade home as well? I do not think he and Logan can be peaceable for a whole night in the same building.”

“Agreed. Like oil and water there. I would prefer not to have to repair cerebro again either, as we’d had to from his last stay with us.” Xavier looked apologetic though to Colossus. “Is it too much to ask that you offer him a ride back home tonight?”

But Russell just cut in before Colossus could respond. “Nah, Wade already called a cab to meet him back here before we left town. You can just dump him outside now. Let him be their problem.” But even Russell knew to elaborate a little. “And it’s not some random person he might scare off. It’s his friend Dopinder. But you might want to give him some money first. He never pays the guy. Wade doesn’t carry a wallet. Tightwad.”

Kitty sighed. “I’ll cover it. I have cash. Never got to eat or pay for our dinner after all.” She glanced to you and Peter briefly. “Maybe next weekend?”

“We can try,” You offered quietly.

She smiled, understanding that sentiment that you all might want to lay low for awhile after this fiasco of an evening. “I guess we’ll see how we feel. Night, guys.”

“Night.” You and Peter responded to her in unison.

When Kitty, Colossus, and Russell had left the room, you happened to glance back at the TV, though you were at least a little relieved to see the news had finally gone off and by the captions it was just some talk show host joking about whatever a bigger idiot politician had done now.

But Peter’s voice brought your attention back to him.

“Are we free to go too?” He asked cautiously, maybe even more uneasy now that it was just the four of you as he looked to his father and Charles.

The two older men exchanged a glance of their own as silence hung for a moment.

Erik sighed eventually though to break it. His voice serious, but lacking it’s usual coldness. “You can’t keep diving into everything headfirst, Peter. You’re going to get yourself killed.” He seemed to be studying his son’s face a moment. “And what are those bruises even from?”

“I, uh...fell down a flight of stairs.” Peter answered, taking a breath as if to steel himself for further scolding, obviously that admission only adding to his father’s point.

Yet you interjected before Erik could respond. Before you could help yourself, as it wasn’t fair for Peter to be singled out here. “I’m the one that told him to go to the basement.” Normally Scott was mission leader, or maybe Ororo. This wasn’t a role you were used to, but you’d take responsibility where it was due tonight. “I thought it would be safest for him to go first, to disarm them all, but-”

“But you sent him straight into an ambush.” Erik countered. And when his gaze shifted to you with those words, it was clear that even after this long, it still had an effect. An intimidation factor that you could only hope didn’t show through in your expression.

But it was Charles that came to your defense. “That’s a gross over simplification, Erik. Peter had already examined the area on his own accord moments before to no harm. There would have been no reason for them to think he couldn’t return to it.”

For Xavier to already know that level of detail, meant he’d already searched you and Peter’s minds tonight as well, just as he had Kitty about the gun. Which honestly was okay with you as it meant you wouldn’t have to really explain everything that had happened and risk making things sound even worse.

But Erik was still staring at you both, looking displeased.

Peter shifted, uncomfortable with the quiet. “Look, if you’re going to yell at me for what I did on TV, then just get it over with. It wasn’t (Y/N)’s fault. I was the one that made us stay as long as we did, and I was the one that got pissed off at what those guys were saying. It’s always like no one can believe we’re still together. Like I have to keep proving it.”

That admission actually did catch you off guard. Especially to be said here in front his father, and well in all honesty sort of stepfather that Charles was for all intents and purposes. You immediately felt you should say something, but were even further stunned when Erik beat you to it.

“Peter, for God’s sake. You may have problems, but I assure you that (Y/N) is not one of them. Quit being so dense, boy.”

You blinked, unsure if you’d actually just received a rare semi-compliment from Erik.

But Peter just rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the pep talk, Dad. Yes, I know that. I’m saying how do I make everyone else know that? Some fatherly wisdom would be great right now.”

Erik frowned, looking annoyed at Peter’s reaction. “I’ve told you before, I can’t teach you self-confidence, no one can. Though I’ve always been willing to fight for what I wanted. That’s a start.”

“Erik, no.” Charles interrupted. “Peter, we all question ourselves from time to time. But when it comes to relationships, nothing going on on the outside will matter as long as you focus on keeping things strong between the two of you. Weakness there is the only way those outside troubles can get in to break things down.”

“Oh typical, Charles. So it’s still turn the other cheek to everything else then? Pacifism is not how love is won.” Erik replied, now staring back at Xavier.

“Love is not a thing to be fought over, Erik, and neither is (Y/N). People are not trophies to be claimed.” The Professor responded, meeting Erik’s gaze easily.

“Okayyyy,” Peter said, glancing to you and the no doubt really uncomfortable expression on your face now. “I think we’re just going to go to bed now.” His voice was getting a little quicker as he touched your arm as if to usher you out with him. “We’ll be more careful next time, we learned our lesson, so sincerely sorry and humbled, good nigh-”

“Peter.” Erik called back though before you could both reach the doorway.

Peter looked back reluctantly, only to see Erik now holding up a phone.

“Do at least message your sisters tonight to tell them you’re alright. As refreshing as it is to be receiving so many calls from them this evening, it’s only you they wish to speak to.”

“Uh, sure,” Peter offered, a little surprised. “I haven’t even looked at my phone. I will. Night!”

“Good night.” You also managed, speaking back at least politely to the two men just before Peter hurried you out into the hallway.

——————————

You’d both chosen to take one of the other halls afterward, as to avoid the front foyer and any drama that may still be occurring there if Wade and Logan were still facing off. There was another set of stairs at the back of the house, and it’d been a real relief not to run into anyone else on the way as you took them up to your floor.

By the time you finally got to your bedroom, you didn’t bother to turn on the ceiling light, just switching on the lamp at your bedside end table as you sat down on the bed. You pulled off your shoes, and heard Peter’s jacket already hitting the floor before his own weight hit the bed, making you bounce slightly.

“Ugh,” He said, already barefoot and stretched out behind you laying on his back. “That was awkward right?”

“What part of the night specifically?” You questioned, throwing off your own coat into a then indiscernible pile in the darkness outside of the lamp light. Normally you were the one picking up after Peter, but you weren’t in the mood to hang up or fold anything tonight.

“Good point,” He conceded. “But I was mainly thinking of Dad and Charles. Sorry to drag you into that.”

Yeah, that had been pretty weird. “Well, Xavier was just trying to help. And I think your Dad was too...in his own way. I guess.” There wasn’t a whole lot you could add to that. Peter’s insecurities could flare up from time to time still, but he’d actually gotten a little better over the years. At some point he had finally realized you really were going to stick around. It wasn’t just pretty words and passing teenage hormones.

After you’d actually started rooming together officially, you knew there had even been some joking from your friends about Magneto one day becoming your father-in-law. But you tried not to humor any of that. You were in no hurry, and felt further commitment to that level would have to be Peter’s decision. It wouldn’t be fair to put him under that kind of pressure.

You knew he had reservations on the subject when none of his father’s marriages had ever worked out. He wouldn’t say it outright, but you were sure Peter felt there was still some sort of family curse there that he didn’t want to tempt fate with. As if making you his spouse would be the final straw and something would come to take all his happiness away.

You felt him moving a little then as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Alright, before I forget, group message to Wanda and Lorna...” But he paused, looking up at you with just a blank white screen on the phone. “What do you think I should tell them?”

“Peter, they’re your sisters.” You smiled, not sure why this would be a question to you. “Just say you’re fine, you’re back at the mansion, and you’re going to bed. You can always call them tomorrow.”

He made a face at that though, “What if I don’t want to call them tomorrow? They’re just going to lecture me. Oh, I know!” He smirked as if he’d thought of something clever, adding to whatever he was already typing. “Dad already fussed at me. So don’t worry about it. Wanda, tell mom the same thing. ❤️👍”

He turned the screen to show you. “Think that will work?”

“Genius.” You replied.

“Smart ass.” He grinned, but sent the message before quickly turning his phone back on silent and setting it on the other end table.

You took your own phone out your pocket, intentionally not reading the number of notifications left on the home screen as you also set it to the side before standing up to take your pants off.

You’d just slid them down, trying to step out of them when a sudden pinch to your backside almost had you stumble forward, one foot still stuck in a pants leg.

“Speaking of ass...” Peter teased, pulling his hand back before you could smack it.

“So the cannolis gave you a second wind, huh?” You turned, not surprised to see that devilish grin starting as he now looked you over while you next removed your shirt. You’d think he’d be used to this view by now.

“I was feeling hopeful, yeah,” he replied, though remaining where he was in the bed as your shirt joined your pants on the floor. “Of course I am still pretty tired,” He added, “Maybe you could help me out here?”

You raised one eyebrow as he motioned to the zipper of his jeans. Oh, so this was how it was going to be? He seemed so pleased with his idea though, you couldn’t help but be amused.

***smut starts here, scroll on to skip*** “So pitiful, my poor speedster.” You said, albeit smiling as you climbed into the bed. You straddled him gently, seeing that needful look already beginning to cloud his eyes as he still laid on his back beneath you.

You were tired yourself, and hungry still, but you’d survive until morning. This effort for some physical intimacy seemed worth it to at least end this bizarre night on a good note for the both of you.

And you knew you both wanted it. He might be making a play that he was going to make you do all the work right now, but you highly doubted he’d have the self control to not jump in once things actually got going.

You pushed his shirt up, running both your hands up the sides of his torso. Like anyone would expect for someone as fast as him, he was built lean, though there was sinew there. Just that bit of muscle, storing all that energy, ready to take off at a moment’s notice.

The room was cool. It was still winter and the high ceilings didn’t do much to keep heat near the floor. You knew your hands would be a little cold as well. So you willed just the slightest bit of your energy field from your palms, warming them as you stroked his chest. You could see the bit of bruising here and there from his earlier fall, but luckily nothing extreme.

He relaxed his head into the pillows behind him, clearly enjoying the feel even as you heard his breathing increase slightly. He liked to be petted, but you knew it would be too much of a tease for him if you focused above his waist for too much longer.

You left his shirt pushed up to bare his abdomen to you, even as your hands ran carefully back down, stopping at his belt. Never quite the typical guy when it came to fashion, it wasn’t a normal peg and hole type, but actually an old seatbelt buckle. You undid it with a click, pulling it out through the belt loops of his pants as he arched a little to take his weight off the back and fully free it.

Once that was out of the way, you unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans with little fanfare. His normally loose boxers were already a little tighter though you noticed.

He made a noise, shifting into the touch as you cupped him with your hand. You massaged the area through the fabric, feeling him gradually stiffen as you got a little more forceful.

By the time he was fully erect, it was all too simple to slip him through the now stretched open flap in the boxers.

You had been intending to stroke him now, but on a whim you decided to go another route. Something a little less predictable you hoped, but what you knew he would still like. You doubted you were all that good at it really, but he’d never complained before.

And you could tell he was surprised, you heard him take in a quick breath as you lowered your mouth down on him, sucking him as he spread open his legs for you. You couldn’t take him in too deep without gagging yourself, but you tried to make up for it by moving up and down gingerly as you used your tongue as well.

It must have been stimulating enough for him though as you felt his hand on the back of your head shortly after, and felt his hips starting to rock rhythmically against your mouth.

He gave a quiet moan, he was so very hard now, but you didn’t let up. You knew sometimes, especially if it’d been a while since you’d last had a chance to be intimate together, he may actually cum fairly quickly. But if he did, then he did. You weren’t worried about whether you got anything in return tonight. Truthfully, your heart was already pounding, the heat in you building, just because you knew he was so aroused.

It was always give and take, and there was no rule of whose turn it was at any given time.

His whole body stiffened a little and for a moment you thought that would be it. But his hand moved to your shoulder suddenly instead, pushing you back as you released him in response.

You pursed your lips as you looked back up at him, that little bit of irritation still felt on them of where they’d dragged against him.

He was already sitting up though, pulling his shirt off completely before he tossed it off the bed. “Come on, babe, clothes off please.” He breathed, his silver hair falling into his dark eyes as you moved off of him and he laid back again just long enough that he could pull off his jeans and work his erection free from his boxers before they ended up cast out into the darkness as well.

While you’d been watching him, you’d also been unhooking your bra as requested, tossing that away. Which left only your underwear before you’d slid it down your legs, flicking it off too once it’d only been left swinging from one foot. He closed the small distance between you so fast then, you were sure he’d actually just used his powers before you felt his lips against yours. Desperate almost, as his tongue pressed through immediately afterward.

You shivered, not expecting the feel of his fingers against your entrance almost simultaneously. Just two of them, moving methodically against you. The room felt far from cold now. But you were just kissing him equally as hard now as he started to push his fingers in further, testing your readiness.

By the time you trembled again from his probing, you knew you were fully wet enough. It was a mutual realization evidently as he broke the kiss, urging you to turn so your back was facing him as he moved behind you on the bed.

You understood what he wanted as he kneeled behind you. You let yourself lean down onto your elbows in the pillows, but also on your knees in the back as you felt him grab your hips from behind. You arched your back, curving your back downward to help angle yourself into him as you felt his tip pressing into you.

As wet as you were now, he only had to try a couple times before he was able to slide fully in. To the hilt so to speak as you felt his torso now pressed flush against you. Already that slight sheen of sweat was starting where your skin touched together as he began to thrust.

The bed was creaking, and you bit back a moan of your own, never quite sure how thick the walls really were in this house. It was kind of an unspoken thing that as long as precautions were taken, and the others in the house didn’t have to hear or see anything you did in the privacy of your own room, then no one would care if people coupled up. For the two of you, precautions only meant a birth control pill, not worrying about condoms any longer after several years of monogamy.

His thrusts were getting even more uneven though, which told you he was close to orgasm. But you couldn’t help but push back against him yourself, panting a little as you felt him grab and squeeze one of your breasts. He was supporting himself with his other arm as he leaned forward suddenly, still inside you as he nipped you lightly on one shoulder, then kissing the same spot before he breathed in your ear.

“How do you always feel so good?” He murmured.

As he let go of your breast, you felt his hand go back between your legs. Even though he was still buried fully in you, his fingers went back to teasing the outside. The over stimulation left you shuddering, and you knew he was trying to get you to orgasm first.

His fingers just kept moving as he started to thrust again. You loved that feeling of fullness, when he was all the way inside, but it was the added teasing of his fingers where you were most sensitive that finally sent you over the edge. Your muscles inside spasming around him then as that unmistakable burst of euphoria went through you, leaving every piece of you trembling.

He clearly felt your orgasm, only moving both hands back to your hips then. Pulling you back against him as he thrust roughly several more times, enough to get his own release as you felt his erection pulse in its own right, knowing he had then let go inside you as you felt that warmth already dribbling back out onto the bedsheets.

Even though you’d started the foreplay, he’d done most the work for the finish. Yet you still felt spent now, only rolling onto your back after he pulled out, trying not to let too much of his seed run back out of you and onto the bed.

He was still breathing a little unevenly as he left the bed only long enough to go grab a clean hand towel from the bathroom. One of those pluses of having had the mansion rebuilt back then was that so many more of the rooms now had their own bathrooms. And after he’d wiped the residue off of himself, he handed you the towel. You dabbed up the small spot on the bed, before wiping off the remainder from your skin as well, then tossing the towel unceremoniously onto the floor with everything else.

Peter turned off the end table lamp before climbing back into the bed beside you in the darkness. The only light then coming from the moon and starlight through the thin curtains at the windows.

You were both still naked, and a little bit hot as you only pulled the covers as high as your waists, knowing the room’s cool air would chill you quickly enough now that no more physical exertion was taking place.

Hot or not though, his arms went around you as he then pulled you into a spooning position in the darkness. You actually felt that he was still about half hard too as it touched against your backside again, you now both laying on your sides with your back to his chest.

***sex over, you’re safe to start reading again*** “That almost made up for this entire night,” He joked quietly, kissing the back of your neck a couple times before you felt him smile against your skin. He moved one of his hands to trail it lightly over your hip, the sensation tickling you slightly as he spoke again. His voice was soft, a true contentment in his tone. “Love you.”

That wasn’t a phrase he said often. But the both of you seemed to save the word as to never water it down. When it was said, it made it really mean something more.

You reached down for his hand that’d been playing with your hip, grasping it warmly and weaving your fingers between his. “I love you.” You said simply, no need to elaborate on what was just a fact.

He squeezed your hand a little harder, but said nothing more, you both just enjoying the touch and comfort of each other��s presence.

You moved your head a little more into the pillows, getting just right as you closed your eyes.

——————————

Your dreams faded in and out, nothing you could remember in detail though as the sunlight on your face now had you squinting. You thought of just pulling the blanket back over your head, but your brain started to register the smell of food as well. Bacon specifically as you lifted your head a little, trying to focus.

“It lives!” Peter joked from beside you, sitting cross legged on top the blankets and just in his boxers again. Two plates of food sat in front of him, the source of the smell you realized as you sat up a little, pulling the sheet up enough to cover your bare chest in the cool room.

Very rarely did he ever wake before you, and your still half asleep stare of confusion only made him smirk a little.

“I had to pee.” He said through a mouthful of food, a sausage biscuit with a large bite already taken out of it in one hand, and a video game controller pressed down into the bed with the other. His hand with the controller was blurring slightly as he moved it just fast enough to work the joy stick and buttons simultaneously. “Then I remembered they released that new DLC last night. Had to try it out. I turned the volume down though. Considerate right?”

And it was indeed silent, not the usual grunts and blasts and screams from that gory fighting game he loved so much. His character was currently comboing another into oblivion on the small TV across from the end of your bed.

Your lack of any real dinner the night before had you focusing back to the food in front of you though.

“Go on,” Peter encouraged. “I knew you’d be hungry. It’s not all for me.”

Normally you were against eating in bed, just from the crumbs and general mess it could make. You’d had the misfortune to find the sticky remnants of Twinkies and the like from Peter’s late and early snacking many times.

Yet even as you picked up one of the amazing looking sausage and egg biscuits for yourself, you wondered if anyone else was now going without. Was it stolen goods? “Where...did this come from?” You asked, voice still a little hoarse from just waking, even as you bit down hungrily.

But the implication of your question didn’t even faze him. “Oh there was plenty. Raven told Hank he didn’t know how to cook, so guess who wins? Us when he made three damn trays of these things.”

“Sounds like she had a plan.” You responded, also grabbing a couple pieces of bacon now.

“Totally.” He agreed. “And orange juice is on the end table, babe.”

You glanced to your side, indeed just noticing the glass beside you then. “Well, you’ve been busy.” But your attention eventually drifted back to him only sitting there in his boxers after you’d taken a few sips of juice. “Did anyone even see you?”

“Nah. Maybe they felt an errant breeze or two.” But he was grinning in a way that still gave you pause.

You watched him a little while longer, only feeling more and more sure before you finally offered out the accusation. “No. You did something. Something else...”

He’d already emptied his plate now, both hands on the video game controller then as he seemed to put his focus solely back to the TV screen. Intentionally of course before he grabbed the nearby remote to start turning the volume back up.

“Peter.” You spoke anyway, knowing full well he could still hear you. “Did we not just scrape by last night without any big consequences? You’re going to put that goodwill to the test already this morning?”

“It’ll be fine.” He answered. “It’s nothing.”

Your eyebrows raised a little. His ‘fine’ and yours could sometimes be completely different things. You sighed, going back to eating the food in front of you as Peter’s character liberated the head off another in a ridiculous fountain of CGI blood.

If you could just finish your breakfast before the next possible calamity-

The bedroom door absolutely rattled in its frame with the pounding on it that almost had you spilling the juice in the bed. By the time your annoyed look moved to the spot Peter had just been, the video game was already paused. Only yourself now alone with whoever was on the other side of that door.

“Just say I’m not here!”

You couldn’t even tell where the whisper came from. Peter either hiding in the closet or maybe the bathroom, they were too near each other to tell.

“I’m not even dressed!” You retorted just to him, quite literally naked as you tried to disentangle yourself from the blankets without dumping your food plate, while simultaneously setting the glass of juice back onto the end table.

Peter said nothing more, so you could only call out that you were coming as you anxiously tried to find some of your clothes from the night before. You were able to find your underwear, and the um, incriminating towel, but that was about it. Sure it’d been dark, but how on Earth anything else could have gotten much farther or under something so quickly was beyond you. You kicked the towel under the bed, and you just had to settle for Peter’s t-shirt crumpled in your path as you grabbed it up and yanked it over your head, hurrying for the door.

You still tried to tug the shirt down as far as you could though, at least covering your panties and butt you hoped before you finally pulled the door open. Pantsless, barefoot, and probably with bedhair as you stared up into the glowing red eyes of a very irritated looking, and entirely shirtless Remy LeBeau.

His expression softened just slightly at the sight of you, his lips curling into a handsome smile. But one that didn’t quite reach those crimson eyes. “Mornin’, cher...so sorry to intrude, but I need to have a few words with that boy toy of yours.”

Yet you were staring still, taking time to process the sight before you. There was black...large black streaks all across his face. It circled his eyes in a cartoon like representation of glasses. Though he already had some stubble on his face, the streaks condensed around his mouth as well, like the upturned mustache and goatee of an old timey villain. As if he should be going to tie up some poor girl to train tracks somewhere.

“Oh my God,” you breathed. Permanent marker, seriously? How old were all of you again? “Remy, I’m sorry.” You thought about saying something about how Peter had let those paparazzi get under his skin last night. But it wouldn’t matter. Not if none of these boys were in the mood to be reasonable right now.

“You know you’re not going to catch him.” Is what you finally said. “Please don’t blow up my bedroom trying.”

“And he ain’t worth my chasin’, petite. I just want to talk,” Remy insisted though, voice as smooth as you’d ever heard it as he leaned against your doorframe in only a pair of pajama pants.

But the few playing cards now flitting between his fingers told you otherwise on his supposed peaceful intentions. Yet when he saw you look down at them, another one appeared seemingly from nowhere in his other hand.

He offered it to you, “But if he isn’t man enough to show himself, at least I get the pleasure of your company, non?”

The card was the king of hearts of course as he palmed it into your hand before you could think to stop him. But you knew it wouldn’t be charged if he was handing it to you like that. You trusted him at least that much.

Yet you were quite sure he was still only trying to lure Peter out by audibly flirting with you now. And sadly, it would probably work. “Remy, can you two just save it for the danger room?” You tried again. “It’s too early, really. I was just trying to eat breakfast.”

“Well, seeing as how you’ve been ditched, I don’t see why someone like you should have to eat all alone.” He answered effortlessly, just strolling past you further into the bedroom as if there was no awkwardness in this at all.

In a moment of panic you wondered if it’d be best to just call for backup. Your cell phone wasn’t very far. Was everyone awake already? What if you just called Rogue? That’d be the most straight forward right? Oh, but you could imagine that conversation. Hey girl, come get your man out of my bedroom please? Yet she totally would. He’d be as helpless as a toddler if she decided she was dragging him out.

“You know,” Remy said, considering a little as he palmed one of the uneaten biscuits right off the tray like it was a bauble to steal. “I did think we looked good together in those pictures they printed from the beach. It’s only natural you know. When two people have chemistry, everybody can see it.”

And that was it, the final straw. You didn’t even know why you still jumped when the bathroom door flung all the way open. The window opened too, a couple cards Remy had already thrown then exploding out there harmlessly like little fireworks as Peter had redirected them outside.

Your bedsheet seemed to have a mind of its own as it ripped off the bed and tied around Gambit as well, pinning his arms to his sides as he was forced to then kneel in front of you.

Peter reappeared at your side, looking down at his handiwork as he scowled at the other man. It was a rare expression on Peter’s face, but a little more jarring for that reason.

“Apologize to (Y/N).” Peter demanded. “Or you’re going out the window next.”

But you knew Remy’s wounded pride meant there would be no such possibility of deescalation now. They were going to have to be physically separated and given a cool off period no matter what. As you considered whether to actually put a shield around one or both of them to essentially begin preparations for mutant time out, Remy was already countering back at Peter, a mocking tone rolling off his tongue.

“Alright. I’m sorry, (Y/N). I’m sorry that you got saddled with a jealous little boy who goes after rivals in their sleep rather than face them like a man. And then just hides behind that same woman he thinks they’re going to take from him, yeah?”

Oh for God’s sake! You dropped the card Remy had given you, that you’d for some reason still been holding. You powered up, trying to catch both of the guys in two of your force fields, Peter had already been in movement though. In actuality you’d only ended up shielding Remy just before Peter had kicked the field, looking as if the hit had been intended for the Cajun’s chest.

“Don’t protect him!” Peter looked to you in surprise.

“I’m protecting both of you!” You responded, then glowing white and hovering now several feet off the floor in your annoyance.

“Kinky.” A new voice spoke, followed by a sing song voice that unfortunately you did now recognize as Deadpool continued. “I see London, I see France, I see (Y/N)’s underpants!”

With your energy humming around you, Peter’s shirt you were wearing was now billowing up a little you realized. Indeed giving a full view to all those below you. You dropped back to the floor immediately, but didn’t power down, keeping the field around Remy as you turned to look at the several people now standing in your doorway.

“You know, this is exactly how those rumors start,” Ellie said in her usual dry tone, taking in the truly bizarre scene of the three of you. “Putting on some clothes might be a good first step. Or you know, at least closing the door.”

The girl otherwise known as Negasonic Teenage Warhead was never one to mince words, even to you all, her sort of superiors. Her girlfriend Yukio only stood beside her, smiling a bit sheepishly.

“Yeah, don’t mind us you little OT3, I just came back to bring Russel his stuff.” He motioned to the boy, who was now also staring at you all. “And your boss Charlie X said I had to have an escort, so I got my old buddies here Nega-angst and Yukio-chan. Oh and-”

Deadpool suddenly grabbed another man who had been standing behind them, bringing him to the front. “This is my all time best buddy Dopinder, he wanted a tour of mutant Hogwarts as well.”

“Hello.” The young man waved a bit shyly. “It is an honor to meet more of DP’s superhero allies.”

“Hey.” Peter said oddly to them after a moment, then looking back to you again. The randomness seemed to have snapped him out of his fixation on getting even with Remy at least for the moment. It now looked like he was waiting for guidance from you on what to do next.

You heard an audible sigh from Remy then as he spoke up. “I rather not destroy your sheets, cher. Truce for today?”

You glanced back to Peter first though before letting down the shield. Making sure he’d agree to untie him. Peter looked reluctant still, but eventually nodded.

And with that you powered down, your field around Remy disappearing as all the energy faded back inside you. In another instant he was completely untied, the sheet semi neatly back on your bed then. You knew some of the food had to have gone flying wherever when Peter had ripped off the bedsheet earlier in their scuffle. But you didn’t really care right now.

“Woah, woah. Is that the new MK game?” Wade just questioned suddenly, then seemingly oblivious to all else as he strode into your room as well.

Why no one had any boundaries today, you had no idea.

“Wait, we get video games too?” Russell also sounded impressed, just following.

“Some of us,” Ellie replied though, giving Peter a skeptical look. “That one might have had a five finger discount.”

Peter huffed at her, non committal on the truth of that statement though, “It’s the new one, yeah. The new DLC just added more characters too.”

You didn’t even care anymore honestly as Wade pulled off his mask and hopped immediately onto your and Peter’s bed, grabbing a controller. “Dibs on Johnny Cage, mother fuckers. Let daddy show you how it’s done.”

“Hey, I want to be Scorpion!” Russell replied, actually sounding like the fourteen year old he really was for once.

And you saw Peter was already digging out another controller from his gaming pile as he scoffed at them both. “Man, you can try. I’ll wipe the floor with you and buzzcut you down to bloody stumps with Kung Lao.”

“Dopinder, google Johnny Cage combos, stat!” Deadpool requested as his friend hurried in, dutifully sitting on the floor and pulling out a cell phone to do just that.

Remy was actually the only male in the room to not be sucked in as he gave you a little look while walking back out. “Later, petite. Sorry for real about the fuss. You know he just irks me.” He leaned in a little closer just to you though. “And I know you’re faithful. He just needs to leave me out of it. Quit readin’ dem damn gossip magazines, yeah?”

“Yes.” You agreed with a smile. A little optimism returning that maybe the two of them could be reasoned with after all. “See ya, Remy.”

He nodded, winking at both Ellie and Yukio as well before he slipped past them and out down the hall. Yukio giggled, but Ellie only rolled her eyes.

“Well, if you put some pants on, maybe there’s still some breakfast left down there. Want to go?” Ellie asked you, crossing her arms. She smirked then though, the guys now commentating and mocking one another like there was some big sporting match going on just a few feet from you. “Let Wade be Peter’s problem for a while, I think you’ve earned it.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You agreed without much hesitation. If Peter needed you, it’s not like it’d even take him two seconds to find you, even with the size of this house.

You did see him glance back ever so briefly as you dug some sweatpants out your dresser drawer and pulled them on though. You made an eating gesture and he nodded, understanding where you were going.

He also made a motion like drinking and you knew that meant he wanted you to bring him back some soda. The more sugar the better for him.

As you walked back downstairs with Ellie and Yukio, Ellie chuckled to herself a little. “You know Wade’s going to think Peter is his bff now. Better buckle up for that ride. Colossus can probably give you some pointers.”

You sighed, looking at the younger two girls. “We’ve survived everything that’s been thrown at us to this point. Could always be worse.”

“Oh yeah, it’ll get worse.” Ellie answered.

Yukio nodded, yet still smiling. “Wade is very special. And deadly.”

“Like a contagion,” Ellie added.

It still didn’t matter though. New, strange friends, or old sometimes combative friends. Gossip and rumors, or anything else. In the end you had to agree with Xavier as you so often usually did. As long as you and Peter kept strong together, none of that outside noise could ever tear you down. You had each other and that was all you needed.

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End. Thanks for reading! Art by NACCHAN96.

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