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taintandviolent · 7 months

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feed my Frankenstein ; Frankenkyle x reader

summary: stripper!reader decides to dress up like a zombie for Halloween, and when the girls bring Kyle to the strip club…. He makes the decision for himself that he’s going to be with his kind. w a r n i n g s: 5k words! stripper!reader, female reader, cunnilingus, rough sex, violence, mentions of blood, biting, graphic descriptions. kyle being a big, horny zombie who doesn't understand his strength. a/n: [🎃 part of lizzie's halloween fics! 🎃] probably some errors, whoops. I didn't want to label this as dead dove don't eat, but Kyle literally tries to eat reader, so be warned, I guess??? also my ending is very... cliff-hangery. don't come for me, this fic took on a life of its own very quickly. thank you for reading if you did!!! full fic & taglist under cut!↓ / ao3 link here! / ♪ recommended playlist here! ♪

You dab a stippling sponge against your neck, hiding an edge with a speckle of grey makeup. You’d put a lot of effort into your silly little zombie look - but it was Halloween after all, and hardly any of the other girls had dressed up. Sure, they’d started out in low-effort costumes of Dorothy Gale and Snow White, but as soon as those came off, they were just their normal selves again. You… not so much. You went the extra mile. You’d spent hours applying prosthetics on your limbs, and painting your flesh to mimic the rotting corpses seen in cult classic horror films. Specks of blood around your perfectly lined lips, uneven skin, stitches from your neck down the front of your body.

It wouldn’t be everyone’s cup of tea, you knew. Some of them would lose their boners at the sight. It was time for your first shift. The club was rowdy, you heard it from behind the door. You lean against it, gulp down the last of your water, and fluff your hair before spinning on your red, patent leather heels and pulling open the door.

“I don’t know if this is such a good idea, Madison…” Zoe confesses, nervously. She holds onto Kyle’s arm tightly, guiding him around a booth like an elderly man. He was already entranced by the vibrant lights that swept back and forth in shades of orange and green. It reminded him of his show. Colours….

“Oh, please.” With a roll of her eyes, Madison flips her blonde hair over her shoulder. “This is the best place to put a braindead man… look, they’re everywhere.”

Men cluster around the stage, watching hungrily as women take their clothes off, gyrating their hips close enough to their faces that they could reach out and take bites out of their full asses. The bouncer in the corner makes sure that doesn’t happen, though.

Over the PA, a loud voice says: “Alright! Put your hands together for our resident nerdy girl, our very own reanimated sexpot…”

As though it was on hinges, Kyle’s head swings heavily to face the stage. H

“Look, he’s already fitting in.” Madison nips.

You prance forward, reaching for the pole in the centre of the stage. Men holler your name, the few regulars that came every night you were working. You’d earned yourself a reputation as the nerdy girl because of your penchant for dressing up on the themed nights. Your hips roll to the beat of the song, coming daringly close to the hands that hold dollar bills. When they don’t get the chance to slip them into your outfit, they flutter at your feet, decorating the stage. You undo the tie of your shirt, revealing white bikini with gratuitous blood spatter. You’d done that yourself.

You wrap one leg around the pole, latching onto it. As it spins, you reach behind your back, undoing the tie of your top. Your breasts fall free, nipples hardening in the air conditioning. You hold the bra out proudly, smiling as the hoots and cheers fill the room.

“C’mon,” she starts, taking hold of Kyle’s thick wrist. His skin is always slightly cooler than everyone else’s. She remembers how cold the inside of his mouth was when they first — She blinks away the thoughts, actually disgusted by the idea. After all, she’d never really wanted to fuck a dead guy…

“Hey!” “Watch it, sweetheart!” “Get outta’ the way, you’re blockin’ the view, toots!”

Madison ignores the heckling, and continues to the front, pressing her bony hips against the lip of the stage.

“Hey! Dead bitch!”

Her voice is loud enough that it carries over the music, and you furrow your brow. She wasn’t wrong, but the bitch part seemed unnecessary. Still, you make your way over to the cluster of them, and bend at the waist to hear her.

“Yeah - what?” You ask, still swaying to the song.

“This is our little zombie — ”

“His name is Kyle,” The other girl interrupts pointedly. Madison throws a look towards the other girl, who nods with a fake smile. Truly, she didn’t care what you called him. As long as she didn't have to deal with him, she was happy.

“Kyle — and he needs a babysitter. He’s a little…” she makes a face, stretching her mouth out in a sneer. You knit your brows together again, unsure what that means.

Kyle, you think to yourself. What a frat boy name. In fact, he looks like a frat boy with really really good makeup. Full head of curly blonde hair, dark eyes, strong but soft features… looks like he can absolutely devour a keg.

He’s wearing an open black shirt and jeans, and beneath the black shirt, you can see raised flesh, scars like he was put back together. Funny that you’d chosen to do a dance number to Feed my Frankenstein.

“Do your job and keep him entertained, okay?” She pulls the peeking string of your thong far enough out to freely press a one hundred dollar bill against your hip and lets go. It snaps back against your skin, hard enough to sting. You wince.

Before you have time to protest, the girls are walking back towards the entrance without their little zombie in tow. One of them casts a woeful glance over her shoulder, and you’re left wondering why if she cares so much, why was she still walking away? You fill your lungs with air, exhale and lower yourself down onto your haunches.

“Hey baby,” you coo, wrapping a single blonde curl around your index finger. It’s angel-soft, and bounces back as you let go, straightening up. He seems to melt towards your touch, starved for it. “I like your costume.”

He watches as your ample cleavage sways with the gentle motion of your body. He repeats the word back to you, laboriously. “Cos…tume….”

“That’s right,” you say, running your hands over your thighs as you stand upright. The long heels of the shoes elongate your legs, making you tower over the club’s patrons. “I like it, it’s cute.”

Kyle watches wordlessly as your hands glide over your body, carefully skipping over the stitches at your knees, along your stomach, and finally up to the long stitch around your neck, which to him is holding your head on. Kyle’s eyes blink repeatedly with recognition.

You dip down, reaching for his hand. The crowd woooo’s as you hand him the string of your skirt. He grips it hard before looking at it deeply. You take one step back, flashing a coy expression to the men in the front row. Another step, and the tie begins to slip through the bow, unravelling. Another step and the skirt falls to your feet. A cacophony of approval fills your ears.

You’re in nothing but the blood-spattered bikini bottoms now, and you sink to your knees again, flashing Kyle a bright smile. He blinks, your skirt awkwardly hanging from his hand by the string.

On all fours, you crawl towards him, popping your ass to the beat of the song. Dollar bills shower the stage, and when you slide your knees out to the sides, allowing men a delicious view of your backside, someone tucks another $100 in your bikini.

Kyle is watching you, but his hands drop to his groin where he makes a fist, and rubs it awkwardly over his now-throbbing erection. You immediately notice this, and your eyes widen. That’s a sure fire way to get kicked out, and for whatever reason, you’ve clocked him as too innocent to let that happen. There’s either a) something wrong with him, or b) he’s really committed to acting like a clueless, braindead boy. Both options require action.

“Okay, okay,” you murmur, guiding him to the side of the stage. There’s an empty chair, and with a heel, you push him back into it. Sit. Stay. He does. Good boy.

He never takes his eyes off you though, and every time you’re looking at him, his jaw hangs slack, staring at you with half-lidded eyes. He keeps trying to get up, and you have to slowly shake your head at him, teasingly. He seems to understand that gesture, and stays put.

As you dance, you find yourself watching him, too. Inexplicably drawn to him, for whatever reason. You don’t usually take guys to the back, but $100 is a pretty good tip. Besides, you didn’t want to run into that girl again, and especially not angry.

As your routine comes to an end, Kyle gets up out of his chair, knocking into the edge of the stage. A few guys turn their heads, trying to figure out what this guy’s deal is. You’re too busy picking up your tips, and gathering your clothes to notice. With arms full, you race to the back, throw on a t-shirt and bolt back to the front, praying that Kyle is still where you left him.

He is. He may be trying to climb up on the stage, head craning in the direction of where you exited, but he's still there. You heave a relieved sigh, and saunter up to him, softening your expression.

“Hi, Kyle…” you murmur sweetly. You slip your arm underneath his, linking it with yours and softly pulling him down into a normal standing position again. There’s a small moment of processing and trust before he looks at you and smiles very weakly.

Destinee is next, and while she’s a nice girl, you absolutely loathe her taste in lighting. You enjoy a good rave, sure, but this is like the Electric Daisy Carnival in a much, much smaller space.

You learn very quickly that Kyle doesn’t like it either. At all. In fact, he might dislike it more than you. As soon as the beat is thumping and the bright red and orange lights are washing over the establishment, Kyle wrenches away from you, covering his ears. A low groan starts in his throat, bubbling up through his lips until he’s practically screaming.

“Shhh, shh it’s okay!” You try desperately to console him, but he can’t seem to hear you. Glancing nervously at the guests around you who are starting to take notice of him now, you smile apologetically. “Kyle, it’s okay!”

There’s only one solution - the private dance rooms. They’re quiet, secluded and a perfect spot to store a stressed out zombie boy for a few hours. You looked towards the spiral staircase that led upstairs, and hesitated. You were a dancer who rarely used the private rooms. You had been hard pressed to avoid being alone with any man, especially one that had paid you and felt entitled to whatever he wanted to take. Kyle, however, didn’t seem like the type to… well, do that. Or even articulate that he wanted to do that — did he even understand that you’d been paid to babysit him? Likely not.

You force his hand down as gently as possible, interlacing your fingers with his. “Kyle,” you say. “Kyle, look at me.”

His head moves sluggishly, and his eyes gradually follow. He looks at you with big, black eyes, the surrounding skin darkened and mottled. In the changing lights, he looks so lost, and your heart throbs desperately. Shucking the worries of whispers aside, you lead him through the club towards the wrought iron staircase.

“Hey Lance,” you say. “Private room open?”

“They sure are…” he replies with a large grin, his heavy accent coming through. Lance was one of the bouncers and rotated positions, so you had gotten semi-close with him. He enjoyed your presence and penchant for the strange. “Last door on da’ left.”

With Kyle in tow, you head down the long, red hallway. Each of the doors were painted black, with gold trim. Kyle’s gaze travels from each door, picking up on the various sounds that seeped from behind them.

“Okay…” You say, your voice a touch softer than before as you push open the last door, praying that it’s been cleaned adequately. You cock your head to the side, urging him inside. His concerned eyes swept from you to the door and back to you before he finally decided that it was safe enough for him to enter. “Look, no strobe lights. No loud music. Just you and me.”

“You… and me….” He grumbles. The door clicks shut behind you. His words are painfully slow and slurred, but you can’t help be charmed by the innocence of them. “You…. You’re…. l-like me.”

“That’s right, baby… I’m like you.” In a quiet, joking whisper, you say: “Raaaaauuuuggghhhhhh…. Brains.”

Kyle seems to like this. The tiniest of smiles forms on his mouth. His chest heaves, and without warning, he lunges for you. His strong arms wrap around you in a steely grip that at first terrifies you; your arms are pinned at your sides, locked into place. His tongue slips over your collarbone, wet and cool like he’s just finished eating ice cream. It slips over your neck, along your jawline, and up behind your ear. He’s licking you, devouring you with such pressure that he has to have eaten some of the makeup by this point. You wince as he nips at your ear lobe, his teeth grinding down on the flesh. With some inhuman gurgle, he descends, covering your chest in his saliva.

You were used to men being hungry for you, acting like rabid dogs the second that they caught a glimpse of your plump tits or your juicy ass. It was part of the gig, came with the territory. But not this. This guy was on something. Had to be. Without warning, he yanks your cropped shirt up, and his jaws clamp down on the meat of your exposed breast. You yelp, pushing him off. He looks hurt or confused, or maybe both. Immediately, you scramble, feeling like you’ve just taken candy from a child.

“Hey no.. it’s okay. You can bite me… I like being bit. But not too hard, honey… that hurt.”

He doesn’t understand. Or he doesn’t look like he understands. His brows knit together sadly, while the dark, ink pools he has for eyes glaze over.

“….biiiiiiiiiiiiiite….” He says.

“Softly,” you finished, with your cutest zombie voice. “Biiiiite soft…ly….”

He cranes forward, mouth finding your flesh again. His teeth continue to graze your skin, slightly softer than before though, so maybe he does understand. His tongue lolls out sloppily to taste every inch. He nears the jumbled up mess of liquid latex on your elbow, and you expect him to stop, or skip over it — but he doesn’t. He feels uneven, soft flesh and his front teeth clamp down on it with a guttural sound. He rears his head back far enough for the liquid latex to streeeetch, and snap.

This gorgeous, blonde boy has a chunk of faux flesh hanging from between his teeth. Fake blood dots his pale lips, and he’s looking at you with the most confused expression you’ve ever seen on a man. It’s a grisly sight, really, but it fits the theme of the night. He’s committed to the zombie act, you’ll give him that.

“Hey, hey, take it easy, spit that out…” You reach up, rubbing the fake blood off his bottom lip. flatten your slender fingers on his broad chest, skin smooth like stone except for the deep scars. These are really good prosthetics. You can’t even see the seam. Because there aren’t any…

Like a dog, he drops the wrinkly skin-toned mass from his mouth and frowns. He looks genuinely disappointed, like he expected blood and guts. “B-bad… th-that… didn’t taste….. gooood…” he stammers. "Hun..gry…..”

For a moment, you’re frozen. Your realization clicks into place painfully slowly, slower than his brain seems to move. He’s really too good at the whole zombie act, and a panicked thought writhes its way into your mind, penetrating it the way that a tissue absorbs blood. Just sucks it in, becomes a part of it. No, no way.

Heavily masking the nerves in your voice, you clear your throat and reach for his shoulder. You stroke the smooth roundness of it, raking your nails against his skin. “You want something that tastes good, baby?”

That ‘something good' is your cunt. You’ll let him eat you out so you can think. You assume he’ll eat you out like most men do — boringly — and you can process the realisation that this poor creature in front of you is actually really badly scarred, and possibly, a victim of head trauma, or something. Because there’s no way you’re meeting an actual zombie. Even on Halloween in New Orleans. That’s insane. So, you’re going to let him eat you out while you sort this out in your mind.

That was the plan, anyway.

Except the second you sink into the vinyl chair, he’s on his knees, looking at your pretty cunt with hungry eyes and the visual wipes your brain clean. It was like you put a plate of food in front of a starving man. His mouth opens. You untie both sides of your underwear, letting them fall to the floor. His eyes drop heavily, watching every move.

At first, his tongue juts out, curiously tasting what you’ve put in front of him. It presses between your folds, pauses, before wiggling around. Your eyelids flutter; you were ready to zone out, but Kyle’s inexperience, his curiosity feels so good.

“Good,” he growls, the word vibrating your cunt. His cool breath washes over your core, sending a chill up your spine. He delves deeper, tasting more of you.

His tongue flicks at your clit, flipping the swollen bundle of nerves mercilessly. Your whole body is trembling, and you feel the first of your orgasms rushing towards your centre. Carefully, not wanting to scare him, you grip his angel curls and ride his mouth slightly. Shit. Almost instantly, the throbbing starts and you make a mess of his poor boy’s face, squirting over his lips and chin.

“You like that?” You ask, through uneven pants. The first of the night always feels sooo good.

He nods heavily on your cunt, still lapping up the juices that leak from your slick hole. Your legs start to quiver and a fire burns deep within your cunt. You try to pat his shoulders, wordlessly telling him to stop. His tongue delves in, and he freezes.

“Kyle?” You ask nervously. Unconsciously, you clench around his tongue. He snaps to life, like someone flipped a switch in his brain. His strong arms wrap around the front of your thighs, tightly. Very tightly. He starts to pull you off the chair, lifting you up into his arms. Your ass cheeks are pressed against his chest and the back of your head is on the chair’s cushion now. He’s holding you tightly, upside down, still swallowing mouthfuls of your sopping wet cunt. He can’t seem to hear your desperate, pleading cries to stop.

You blink back tears, your vision throbs. You don’t know if it’s because the blood is very obviously rushing to your head, or because you’re coming again so quickly, but he’s drilling his tongue into your cunt like there’s a cream centre. If there is, he’s found it.

A scream fills your lungs and your body lunges upwards, trying to find leverage — something, anything to hold onto. She clenches again, pulsating around his cold, slippery tongue. Kyle’s practically drinking you with each clench. The overstimulation is crippling, and you can’t help but scream out.

“KYLE! STOP!”

At the shrill sound, he immediately drops you and your body hits the ground with a heavy thud. Your ass aches a little from the fall, but it’s nothing that’s going to ruin the night.

He’s frowning at you, his lips and chin glazed with your cum.

“S-sorry…” he grumbles. “Sorry. Bad.”

“No, no… not bad. Accident. Accident. Kyle?”

You call his name and he’s looking at you with those big, hopeful, dark eyes of his. You can tell — he isn’t sure if you’re going to scold him, or praise him and the uncertainty terrifies him. You get to your knees, crawling towards the sofa. Once you’re up on it, you pat the spot next to you three times.

“Can I see?” You gesture to your own body, tracing the remaining prosthetics with a single finger before pointing to him. He looks down, his bottom lip jutting out. He nods after a few seconds and lumbers over to you, sitting down heavily.

Your fingers dance over his skin. He was literally pieced back together. His head, his arms, his legs, the lower half of his torso… he was sewn back together like Frankenstein. Different parts connected as one. You’re sitting next to an actual zombie.

And then it dawns on you. Those girls. You’d seen them before. You knew their faces. They lived in the massive mansion on Jackson Avenue. They were witches. Witches were a dime a dozen in New Orleans — in fact, it was weirder if you didn’t practice some kind of craft. But zombies… you’d only ever heard stories. You’d never seen one, let alone be eaten out by one.

You stroke Kyle’s broad chest. For being a zombie, he’s surprisingly soft. You’d always imagined them as dried out, crusty creatures, but he only had a few patches of dry skin. In fact, he had more patches where you could see dark blue pooling underneath his skin, where blood had settled after death. He is cold however, and that’s the most jarring part.

You ease him back on the leather sofa, making sure his head goes down softly onto the arm rest.

“It’s okay, Kyle…. I like your body.”

“Costume….” He says. You shake your head.

“Body. Body.”

His hips give the tiniest little buck, and it slips between your ass cheeks. He whimpers, trying to get a visual of what he’s feeling. Gradually, his thrusts increase in pressure, and you adjust for your own pleasure.

When you adjust, forcing his cock to slide in between your cunt instead, he feels the slick warmth, and his feral nature returns, stronger than before. His thrusts pick up, and he seems to realise that you are a living thing, with pulsing blood and a throbbing heartbeat. Something else is throbbing again, too.

You whine and match his thrusts, letting your head loll back.

Kyle has a different idea, and before you can stop him, he has your forearm in his mouth, teeth clamped down on the soft, warm flesh. It only takes a few seconds for you to feel the stinging ache consuming your arm. It hurts… bad. The muscles in your fingers contract, twitching limply. He aggressively shakes his head, and your heart drops. The terror sets in, and you’re suddenly running cold.

“Kyle, no- OW! KYLE!”

He shakes his head again, biting down harder and digging his the ridges of his teeth deeper into your skin. You don’t necessarily feel the flesh tear, somewhere near the top, but you certainly feel the warm flow of blood that drips down your arm, dribbling onto his chest. Your pupils dilate. The blood keeps flowing, and you feel him start to rear his head back. Something pulls back with him. The ache is replaced by a searing burn, and you realise that if he pulls back any further, he’s going to pull off skin. You’re panicking now, and don’t know what else to do but try again. This time though, you roar at him, bringing back your zombie voice. It’s not so cute this time. “Raaaaaaaaauhhhhhh, KYLE. KYLE STOP. STOP!”

You try to rip your arm away from his mouth, while pushing his head. Thankfully, his powerful jaw goes slack and your arm slides out, strings of spit stretching from his lips. Your blood is smeared across his chin and bottom lip, and collects in the corners of his mouth.

With your vision bouncing thanks to Kyle’s furious thrusting, you look at your arm, watching the bright crimson well up in the indentations of the bite mark. Amidst the rest of your makeup, the bite doesn’t look out of place. You hold your arm out further, trying to come up with a story for this one. Maybe the makeup had stained in an absolutely mind-blowing way. And you had a reaction to it, hence the bizarre swelling and scabbing. That sounds good, sounds believable.

“Want… more…” He says, and your stomach drops, praying that he doesn’t mean more flesh. You’re not sure you can handle another one. Mid-thrust, Kyle’s thick, veiny cock angles just right and slips into your cunt. She swallows him easily, still wet from being eaten — a mixture of cum and Kyle’s viscid, slimy saliva. You plant both hands on his chest, letting out a breathy, melodic moan. He feels good enough to make you forget about the bite, and as you begin to ride him, it seems that he forgets too.

You’re taking control, grinding on top of him, using his cock like your own personal toy. It’s hitting every spot you want it to, pressing into your walls with its girth, and you can’t help but whine about it. Pausing to smear your blood across Kyle’s chest with your middle finger, you leave deep, red streaks across pale skin. You shouldn't find that hot, but you do.

Kyle wraps both hands around your waist, pulling you down onto his cock relentlessly, each thrust feeling harder than the last. You lean forward, pressing your tits against his almost bare chest, and allowing him to take control, thrusting his cock up into you. The slightly bent positioning of his cock, head grinding against your spongy insides is enough to make you cum right then. You don’t though, holding back, clenching your pussy as tight as you can.

“You like it, Kyle?” You ask, through shaky pants. “You like that?”

Kyle nods, heavily, his darkened eyes watching the way that your body quivers on top of him, wordlessly marvelling at the way your thigh muscles contract and shake on top of him every time he slips out, and buries himself inside your dripping pussy again. He loves how it feels, even if he can’t articulate it the way he wants to, the sensations are everything he wants. Everything.

He grips you harder, lifting you off his cock and slamming you back down, repeating this violent display of strength over and over again. Your cunt shudders, unable to hold back your orgasm any longer. Kyle feels it first, and the sudden tightness has him growling, snarling and pushing his length into you as deep as he can. Kyle digs his heels into the sofa, lifting his legs. You feel the pressure against your cervix as he bottoms out, and press against his cock, forcing his cock deeper into you, until you feel the ache. You ride out the waves of your own orgasm, feeling his as it comes in thick, sticky ropes.

There’s a gentle knock at the door, and you quickly get to your feet, pulling your shirt over your head. You scramble, trying to find the bikini bottoms and once they’re tied, you throw open the door. It’s Lance, who is looking very concerned. Your legs are pressed tightly together, in fear that Kyle’s load is going to start dripping down your thighs and onto the floor.

“Miss Y/N. The club is closing… are you alright in there?”

Closing? What? It was bareley eleven when you brought him into the room. The seedy, slick realisation that you’d been fucking this zombie for almost four hours made your cheeks blossom with heat. You immediately tuck your bitten arm behind the door, flashing Lance a charming smile.

“Yes! Fine! Just uh, finishing up a dance. Hey - Lance… did two girls ever come back, asking for this blonde guy in here?”

He pauses, thinking. After a few moments, he shakes his head and apologises.

Okay, guess he’s coming home with me, then. “Thank you, Lance. I’ll be down in just a second.”

You shut the door and lean against it, looking at the zombie on the sofa. He’s staring up at the ceiling, a small smile on his face. “Kyle, do you live on Jackson Street? Where do you live?”

He sits up abruptly, turning his head to face you. “Uhm…” He murmurs. “Big…… white.”

“Big white house?” You repeat, making a house shape with your hands. He nods.

“You wanna’ go home?”

After throwing on a pair of dolphin shorts, collecting your duffel bag and giving Lance a generous tip, you have Kyle in tow, fingers laced tightly with his. Jackson Street was maybe a twenty minute walk, something you both could handle.

Despite it going on 3 AM, the streets were still filled with partiers, people in masks, and drinks in their hands. You and Kyle blend in as you walk, heading down the busy roads. Once you arrived at the Mansion, the gates were open, a fine mist spilling into the sprawling yard.

The woman who answers the door is beautiful, graceful and composed. She wears all black, her honey blonde hair cascading graceful over her shoulders.

“Good Evening,” she says.

“Good Evening. Um.. this is going to sound strange, even for Halloween, but, um…” You want to continue. Desperately, but for some reason, you already know the answer. He does belong here. As though she’d said it to you, plain as day, he belonged here, this is where he stayed.

Zoe and Madison must’ve forgotten him.

Your brows furrow, indignantly. How could they?

Cordelia’s plump lips flatten into a knowing smile. You swallow, suddenly feeling uneasy. You scratch at the liquid latex on your neck, fiddling uncomfortably with one of the edges of the prosthetic.

“Well, Kyle… here you go. Go with…?”

“Cordelia.”

“Cordelia. Go with Cordelia, you’re home now.”

Kyle seems somewhat hesitant, but when Cordelia holds out a hand, he obeys and lumbers inside, looking over his shoulder at you one last time.

“Thank you for bringing him home,” she says, softly. “Would you like to come inside?”

You consider that for a second. Deep within the wetness of your bones, and the warmth of your blood, you feel like you should. There’s something extremely comforting about this place, but… “No, no thank you. I should be getting home. It’s Halloween. Weird things happen on Halloween.”

She smiles again. “That’s quite a bite you have on your arm… did Kyle do that?”

“Oh, uh… yeah. He got a little excited earlier, I’m a dancer, and uh, y’know. Men.”

“I have something for that.”

You look down at your bite again, it looks nastier than before. You clear your throat, ready to reject and explain that your older sister is a nurse and she’ll help, but instead, and you’re not quite sure how that happened, you’re walking through the doors. Kyle is delighted to see you again, pausing on the grand staircase to look at you.

Cordelia’s hands end up being very, very soft.

t a g l i s t : @kaismanwich / @redwoodghost / @elsamars / @silverzoomies / @kaissweetlamb / @thewolveswithin / @80strashbag / @twinkiemaximoff / @spill-the-t / @stucktothetwo / @evansb1tch / @enchanting-evan / @petersevans / @yesdevineruler / @enchanting-evan / @anonymous0316 / @eventually27 / @violetharmonscupcake/ @my-own-walker / @kai-slut / @evanpetersfansblog / @fuckedbykai / @iluwmycats / @nova-kayne67 / @dewberryobssesed / @the-goblin1 / @dirtyfairy97 / @jellyluvr / @strangerthings420 / @kai-anderson-whore / @piecesofcain / @lilthbunny / @quickandsilvers / @tatelangdonsweater / @ifeeltoofuckingmuch / @howtobesasha / @randodummy / @throwinginmythai / @hyperharlz

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lord-shitbox · 5 months

Text

part 2 of this ask

📝Process for hurt mezu drawing

here are the steps i dug out of an art server's wips channel lol

1. initial sketch

2. refine sketch. thats lines now babey. (omitted "the sleeves are KILLING ME WAHHH" stage that led to this)

3. grayscale, to use with gradient map (this is a more polished grayscale than I started with, i dug the working file out to get better images)

4. find nice gradient map (ended up being the same one I'd used for the piece i made right before. the goal is to make what's essentially an underpainting, not to color the whole thing with one map)

5. tweak and add colors that arent in the map with hard light layers & also sneak in a layer for special effect and atmospheric/ scenic perspective while you're at it

6. shading & more finishing effects. pretty much all of the shading was done with hard light layers! the only non-hard light layers I used for the shading were the particle effect layers & like one faint glow layer to fix some values. blood was done with linear burn

✨Inspiration for hurt mezu drawing

the coloring method (grayscale -> saturated gradient map underpainting -> additive color adjustments) is something I tried out with the piece i'd made right before (the one where gozu is holding mezu from behind) & turned out really well, so I wanted to keep going with it

I also wanted to draw them angstily again because it'd been a very long time. like half a year at least. angsting them is very enriching for my soul so I try to do it regularly, this one was overdue

subconsciously referenced the poses in the initial sketch from this old thing (feb 2021). i love doing this. all my for-fun works recycle old elements in some way. my favorite game is "what old art reminds me of what im doing rn" im so good at digging stuff out of my archives for it. everyone loves when i do this

the gangi-kozou panel also

i went through a "shade in bold red-orange & dark blue with hard light layers" phase in like..april/may of 2021. i still like that stuff a lot so I wanted to revisit it

💚Things you like about hurt mezu drawing

repasting the link there but the sixth image in the process is essentially the final so you can just look at that

the colors are nice!! I'm real happy with using more saturated colors n I think the warm vs cool balance works really well

the sleeves (man being dramatic on the sand meme)

no like fr look at the 2021 piece's kimono sleeves vs the one I just did 2.5 years later. so satisfying

Gozu's expression came out nice

i think the claws and flash lines successfully added Emphasis to Gozu's expression & the piece overall

the poses … the drama …. the brush textures are also good

⏳Things you’d do differently with hurt mezu drawing

add in a liiitle more contrast...aka use a wider range of values. Some lighter lights and darker darks. I miss my 2021 hard neon lighting

a bit more distinction between the characters and the background also

the composition isn't bad but it could be better. Should've thought more about the way the eye would flow around the image in the drafting stage (solid b&w color block thumbnails are good for this)

Moar Sparkles. (I put a solid amount of large & low opacity light bubbles in there & some finer brighter dots especially around the claw stems, but I think more clusters of tiny bright lights on the characters themselves would've gone hard)

💌Some favourite feedback on art

as the wise man Austin Kleon once said: keep a "praise file" of all the positive feedback you get (if you've never read "Steal Like an Artist," you must). so. i am prepared for this question hold on

tastes like sugar glass

multiple people have told me my art is soft & dreamlike

jayce you reblogged my touchstarved art with nice tags on april 10th ive got that saved love uou

umm theres a lot...anytime someone keysmashes or feels emotional because of my art i get happy ,,, lys messaged me about the hurt mezu piece that made me happy also,,,,,there is so much joy in the world

#shitboxposting #asks #shitbox drawn #JM SORRY I FEEL LIKE THE FORMATTING ISNT EASY TO READ NO MATTER WHAT I DO....AUGH #all my class work with actual conecptual meaning is monochrome what am i doing...man.......#i need to post more art and i also need to make more art. aghhh. boots up ultrakill and magical drop again #im actually Not sure how im going to afford the next few years of my life 😭😭 a bitch gotta have time to do fuck all but i need money..!!!!#whatever its fine. i have time to do fuck all right Now and thats what matters

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envihellbender · 2 months

Note

Backrooms fatty

Characters: u/urbexmallrat (OC), unnamed monstrosity

Content: fat monster, creepypasta thinly veiled fetish, impossibly big

—

r/FindingTheBackrooms posted by u/urbexmallrat 21 hours ago

Anyone seen this monster in the Backrooms?

Hey guys,

I was recommended this subreddit by r/urbexuk after no one there could help me. I thought The Backrooms was just a dumb creepypasta but honestly it’s the best explanation for what I stumbled upon. Bit of background, I’m a photographer, I’ve had pictures published in National Geographic so I’m the real deal. Outside of this occurrence I’m just a normal guy with a camera, I’m really into urbex and working on a book right now. There’s a shopping centre near me that I went to as a kid in the early 90s. I’m from a small town just off the motorway and the building used to be this huge busy place a couple of miles away. There was an arcade, cinema, all that stuff. It was really, really huge. It’s so weird to me that it was abandoned and honestly, it’s terrifying and fascinating to me that this place is completely deserted and being taken over by nature when I went there every weekend until I was 12.

Just to set the scene, here’s some pics of the place. Maybe it’ll be familiar to someone and you can explain away what I’ve seen. Hell, I’d love it if someone could do that.

The first photograph is of the entrance of a shopping mall, the windows have been smashed or bordered up, and the tiles on the floor have weeds and dead grass growing through the cracks. The walls have ivy and half dead trees clinging to them, and beneath that is a Starbucks that has had all of its furniture removed and strange symbols spray painted on the walls and floor inside of it. There’s a giant fountain in the middle of the entrance walkway, the water inside it is murky and covered in a strange slime. The second is of the entrance to an arcade. The machines are covered in a thick layer of dust and there are forgotten toys in a crane machine. There’s some strange orange teddy bears that are filled with stuffing in odd selections that have lumps in them. Their eyes are tears in their fabric, they look like a strange cross between a rabbit and a goat. The third photograph is taken from an above walkway showing the floor beneath, there are some abandoned shops and an outdoor coffee shop that has a couple of feral cats sitting by a dormant and decrepit coffee machine.

See? It’s called the Silver Bells Shopping Centre. I’d be interested to hear from anyone else who remembers it because none of my childhood friends or family remember it. So weird. I still have a Garfield Teddy from the crane machine at that arcade, it sits on my shelf. Here it is:

The photo shows a strangely shaped stuffed animal, one of the orange toys from the previous picture.

Anyway, I was using the opportunity to go find parts of the place we don’t usually see. I intended to go see some back storage rooms then go to the cellar. I guess I found that… anyway, I went to the food court which was kept on the lowest level and found a McDonalds. I hopped over the counter and slipped down the back. There was a lot of rats living in the now empty deep fat fryers but I figured live and let live. Weirdly I don’t remember having left the kitchen, but I must have done. I walked forwards, expecting to reach a door to take me out to some storage place. Instead I was walking for a good five minutes without going through anything and when I turned round the McDonalds was gone and there was just that terrifying yellow painted brick wall. I took some photos:

The first photo showed a family of rats living in the deep fat fryer, five were staring at the phone with bright red eyes. The second shows a blurry wall with light yellow bricks. The third, forth, and fifth all show different parts of the corridor, they all look essentially the same - yellow bricks, which stone floor, and nothing else distinctive.

So I had no idea how I ended up there but honestly I was mostly just assuming I was lost and took photos to help find my way back. I was wandering around these corridors for a long, long, loooooong time. My phone alarms kept going off - I have one at 2.30pm, one at 5:10pm, and one of 7:30pm so that’s how I knew time was moving even if my mobile clock hadn’t moved (yeah I know, how were my alarms going off if the time on my phone wasn’t moving, no idea!) After the last alarm I finally saw a door, and was over the fucking moon, so happy I got scared of going through it. Kind wish I hadn’t. Well. I guess doing that meant whatever weird monster I saw could guide me out, after it took what it liked from me. I can’t explain what I saw, or how I got out. And it doesn’t matter. I don’t care, I just wanna know what the fuck happened to me and what the fuck did I see. Here’s the monster I saw, doesn’t seem to match any monsters you guys have on file so I’m hoping that I missed something. Not sure how I feel about being the one who found out about a new species …

These sets of photos are much worse quality than the other pictures, and it’s not entirely clear what they are. The first shows a strange pile of flesh, a bright light - perhaps the camera flash - reflects against it. If you focus you can see that there’s a smattering of black hair over it, and angry purple marks where the skin has stretched obscenely. At first it simply looks like a closeup, but the photographer’s shadow shows that the navel or the occupant is significantly bigger than the owner of the flab. The second shows the adipose from a different angle, there’s one gigantic hill of fat, there’s another on top of it, and one more. This looks more human, but the way the light flashes and reflects on something on the otherwise of the wall shows that the height of the photographer is half that of the lower most fat roll. The third is an eye, a milky brown iris with bloodshot whites, that is crushed between a bloated cheek and sagging forehead, causing it to be a pinprick. The final photo shows the photographers digits held up against two enormous bloated brown lips, showing that just one of the slug like features is larger than the camera man’s entire hand.

So yeah. That’s the monster I found. If I had to estimate the size… well, it was significantly taller than me and I had to climb on it to get most of the photos. I’m six foot three, and I barely came up to its navel. I’ve seen elephants, whales, and stuff but none of them came close to it. Honestly if I didn’t know any better I’d say the creature was as big as I predicted the shopping mall was. Does this mean anything? Anyone see anything similar?

Update 1: please can every ignore my teddy and focus on the actual post lol

Update 2: I don’t know everyone’s focusing on my teddy but it’s Garfield lol don’t any of you remember Garfield?

Update 3: ignoring every question about my teddy now lol but thanks for everyone who asked me about the monster. Seems this isn’t a common experience but u/roadkillnapster pointed out that without a decent photo that shows more of the overall shape, it’s possible it’s a known monster that’s gotten really fat. Seems possible to me. Any fleshy monsters that could be similar?

Update 4: wow I wasn’t expecting so much conversation off my post, lotta people want to see it and have asked if I could show more videos and photos. I mean I don’t know but I’ll see if I can set up a livestream, so glad a lot of you wanna get to the bottom of this too!

Update 5: and thanks for freaking me out about my Garfield teddy, the wool is doing this weird expanding thing so it’s doubled in size and now I’m all scared it’s haunted lol

#envi writes #Backrooms fatty #fat monster #extreme weight gain

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thankstothe · 1 year

Text

1. Denmark. Literal child? Voice doesn't have enough power to hit those notes. Like that pink to green change on stage

I SEE THE DADI FREYR IN THE BG OMG ICELAND BABY (btw did they bleach their flag?)

2. Armenia. Laying on the floor. Classic. Somewhat continued pink theme at start. The thing I love, no sarcasm, is that sometimes you can't tell if they actually sing in English. Oh it wasn't a floor, it was a wall. Revolutionary.

Ew, showing Beatles statues. Have to shove your famous boys against a poet and clowns? This is why no one likes you UK

3. Romania. Oh let's go, native language, cool voice, pink suit, playing with genres. This is why im here. Staging is a letdown, you could literally just follow with the camera on foot.

4. Estonia. Oh piano plays itself, no fire yet. Now she plays it. I hope it ends with piano retaliation and attack. Average ballad and in English, boring. Go off piano, love that it has a mic too.

5. Belgium. Pink is back, yas. Love asymmetrical hat. Okay back up vocals have more power that main man, like damn, turn them up! Kinda like that low beat. Fun.funfun

Graham yooo, the only uk host im excited to see in final. So weird to see him and hear him at the same time lmao.

6. Cyprus. wooo. Didn't get memo for the pink theme. woooOOOooo. English, but accent is thick so I'll take it. wooooOoOoO. Gets some shoes boy, barefoot look didn't add shit. I wonder how warm is the floor tho, lights and all the pyre prob heats it up good. Woooo

7. Iceland. Everyone shut up its iceland. Im biased. Laying on the floor, brilliant move. Oh red lining in the coat, great. Some pink light's so were in the clear there too. Asserting more dominance over the floor and laying on in some more. She jacked, wow. Good voice. Song? I felt nothing.

8. Greece. Laying on the floor. Waiting for the pink to cross it off my list. Oh no your voice isn't there to jump or even move and sing, sorry. Also no pink. ФEELINGS. Why are you doing that with that alphabet shuffle. Causing me pain, that's what. Do that with sung word and we'll talk.

9. Poland. Pink hell yah. This is makes me have flashbacks to the 00s radio. Everything, voice dance, costumes, underwhelming. Oh so her dress was shitty because it was hiding another dress and not 00s reference? Makes sense. Fuego attempt, sorry you're not HER

10. Slovenia. Not English + nasty bass, okay boys! Some pink clothing. Raided their parents closet from 80s. Can't pinpoint the high singer sadly.

11. Georgia. I was excited that she was yelling at me and then she stopped... Obsessed with the instrumentals. Pink appears on the screens briefly, if you care. Amazing voice, blew the dress away.

WELSH FLAG YES BITCH

What is that actor forgor here, he's not here to talk about anything substantial I bet. Alluding to Ukraine, not even head on mention, are you kidding me?

12. San Marino. Rocky. What's with the sound mixing this year, they let this one down. Oh eyes on the walls, ok. Laying on the floor gives you some kind of points, at least I can have list. No pink, but there was like only red.

13. Austria. Okay fun start, go queens! Very interesting vocal turns and melodies. Staging is immaculate! Costumes are great. UGH. Edgar lmao. A lot of red, we moving the spectrum it seems.

14. Albania. I swear Albania sent this before. Sorry, deja vu is insane for me here. Flashing aggressive red lights solidified spectrum change. Native language is an automatic W. Wait, I thought the limit was 5 people on stage, they had 6.

15. Lithuania. Pink and red, bold choice, bringing it all together. Okay more of a purple and orange, shut up. Back up is overpowering her when they sing chorus, at least it mixed better.

16. Australia. Oh I liked thier postcard bridge. Doing interesting thing with camera, lights. Some pink and red. Oh was that a brief breakdown, alrighty. Crisp guitars and synth. Ending with headbang, very energetic!

Pretty fun semifinals overall

#esc #Eurovision #Eurovision 2023 #2nd semi-final

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purplecraze · 1 year

Text

Beauty and the Beast AU 22

purplecraze — 09/10/2021 10:48 PM

"uhm......

Tonight was-... well, plainly said, the best night I've ever had.. thank you."

orange-plane-boy — 09/10/2021 11:00 PM

Narancia blushed "eheh what i can say, im a really charmy boy~" he smirked but hia face was red as a tomato

"It was...really romantic, and also my first kiss yknow?"

purplecraze — 09/10/2021 11:02 PM

"w-- seriously?" Fugo looked off, blushing too. "you asked it as if you've done it a 100 times..."

orange-plane-boy — 09/10/2021 11:04 PM

He laughed "What? Really??"

purplecraze — 09/10/2021 11:04 PM

He nodded. "You seemed so sure of yourself..."

orange-plane-boy — 09/10/2021 11:05 PM

"B-But you are the one that confessed first! Werent you the one that wanted to kiss me in the first place???"

purplecraze — 09/10/2021 11:06 PM

"h-huh?? no, it was definitely you! we barely held hands, danced a bit and you started about kissing!"

orange-plane-boy — 09/10/2021 11:09 PM

"You dont say to people 'i cant help wanting to touch you' all love dovey like that without romantic subtone!" He blushed "you used the tone of someone confessing their feelings!" He chirped covering his face with his hands

purplecraze — 09/10/2021 11:10 PM

"ah-- t-that was just---" Fugo's face practically glowed. "c-can you blame me!?? i didn't talk to anyone for years! i didn't-- I wasn't--" he didn't sound too convinced himself now either.

orange-plane-boy — 09/10/2021 11:12 PM

"Oh my god i was sure you were telling me you had a crush on me" he was still covering his face "oh my god im gonna bury my self under the snow" he let out an awkard laugh

purplecraze — 09/10/2021 11:13 PM

"h....hmrrr......" Fugo avoided having to look at him over the awkward miscommunication. "well.....it all ended well...so......take it as you want..."

orange-plane-boy — 09/10/2021 11:15 PM

He laughed again, taking his hands away from his face, but still red as a tomato

"Oh my god-" he snorted "it ended well because looks like we are both two dumbass"

purplecraze — 09/10/2021 11:17 PM

Fugo nodded, still not looking.

"I....I might have meant it that way? but I didn't realize it at the time, at least..."

orange-plane-boy — 09/10/2021 11:18 PM

He giggled, trying to calm down

"Pff- yeah but-- sorry man, it must be so awkard for you having me asking kisses and stuff"

purplecraze — 09/10/2021 11:19 PM

"I just-....thought you were used to doing that more often..."

orange-plane-boy — 09/10/2021 11:22 PM

"Uhh nope-" he shaked his head "A-And even if i was i wolunt ask i knew you didnt wanted to-"

purplecraze — 09/10/2021 11:22 PM

"w-- I never said I didn't want to!!"

orange-plane-boy — 09/10/2021 11:23 PM

"Pff..w-well, its a bit awkard to day after we made out but i have a crush on you Panna"

purplecraze — 09/10/2021 11:26 PM

"wauw, I sure didn't notice that." he bumped his head on the railing, exasperated.

"I've said it before, but I'll say it as many times as you want: I love you."

orange-plane-boy — 09/10/2021 11:29 PM

He giggled "i love you too!!"

purplecraze — 09/11/2021 12:21 AM

"....." Fugo looked a bit pensive at the horizon. "........actually, thinking about it, if I had said that and then would reject you after, saying I only meant it in a friendly way, that would have made me the lowest scum out there."

orange-plane-boy — 09/11/2021 12:22 AM

"E-Ehy its ok i mean- i could just have miss intepr- miss int- got it wrong!"

purplecraze — 09/11/2021 12:22 AM

"misinterpreted. well.... you didn't."

orange-plane-boy — 09/11/2021 12:23 AM

"Well glad i didnt!" He said smiling.

God Fugo was pretty under the sunrise light, he wanted to kiss him again

purplecraze — 09/11/2021 12:25 AM

I mean, if you're prepared to die for it and leave him miserably alone forever?

"In fact, you might have interpreted it better than I did myself, having us end up like this."

orange-plane-boy — 09/11/2021 12:31 AM

"Thats good! Glad my dumbassery made us date eachother"

purplecraze — 09/11/2021 12:32 AM

"ah yes, the 6th sense: touch, smell, sight, taste, hearing, and dumbass."

orange-plane-boy — 09/11/2021 12:33 AM

He giggled "Well, it works for me!"

purplecraze — 09/11/2021 12:34 AM

"Works just fine for me too~

the supplies should arrive somewhere during the day, you can just stay here and sleep while I pick them up."

orange-plane-boy — 09/11/2021 12:36 AM

He nodded "Yep, i think im gonna go sleep a bit now"

purplecraze — 09/11/2021 12:37 AM

"okay. tonight should be rather quiet too, so take all the rest you need."

orange-plane-boy — 09/11/2021 12:39 AM

"Sure! You should sleep too!" he said yawning "Good Night Panna- well, its not night but you got it-" He smiled and blew him a kiss, being the closest thing to a good night kiss he could give to the other

purplecraze — 09/11/2021 12:41 AM

"~❤️....." Fugo sighed without a word, but Narancia could feel a certain birdy on his shoulder that snuggled in his neck (where the bitemark was)

orange-plane-boy — 09/11/2021 12:41 AM

Nara giggled and waved to Fugo again, before laving the tower and going to his room

purplecraze — 09/11/2021 12:48 AM

"..........." Fugo staid where he was for a while, staring at the sun slowly rising.

The sudden silence buzzed in his ear and his hands tingled strangely. he could feel a sore pain in his jaw too. and a burning in his throat.

He didn't know why, he wasn't sad at all, but he couldn't help crying, the tears just wouldn't stop.

Overwhelmed, lonely, insecure, but also incredibly relieved. Not being able to touch Narancia again fell heavy on him, but he had so SO many things to be grateful for over the past night......Narancia.... my dearest Narancia..... please, whatever you do, don't let me be the end of you.....

The bird kept Narancia company for the time he was still awake, though Fugo's conscious didn't really seem to be with it.

orange-plane-boy — 09/11/2021 12:52 AM

Narancia on the other hand curled himself in his bed, hugging the pillow next to him.

He was feeling excited, having someone loving you back after so long; but at the same time the whole thing was scary. He wasnt afraid of Fugo, more of the bizzarre and new relationship it would happend, but he felt like he could hande it.

He petted the little bird for a while, but soon drifteed to sleep

purplecraze — 09/11/2021 3:23 PM

I sure wonder what he's thinking of while hugging that pillow~ over time, the bird disappeared again, though.

lucky for Fugo, the supplies were delivered fairly early. he could keep a sharp eye on the surrounding from up in the tower, also sending a message with instructions for the next month, so he saw that things were delivered at the usual rendezvous spot. normally, Fugo always looked forward to it. Not so much because of the supplies, but this was the closest he'd see humans every month.

Really, it must have been rather pathetic, but it was all he had.

Also it came with his least favorite chore.

The telekinetic magic he used was normally only meant for moving light objects. so a cart with a month worth supply was a hassle. It took all his magic power in one go. And he was already exhausted from the last week, with last night as the big finale....

But he had envisioned how he must have felt if Narancia had gone with the merchants. He probably couldn't bare it if he had... It was embarrassing how dramatic the thought sounded, but he may have died from a broken heart.

Maybe he was just really tired. getting the cart over and the emotional rollercoaster were enough to make him weakly drag himself to his room and fall in a deep deep sleep.

orange-plane-boy — 09/11/2021 3:33 PM

Narancia sleept for some hours. He stretched and got himslef dressed.

Imagining that Fugo was still sleeping, he did what became his hobby since he got there: scooping around.

Not his fault if the house was so big!

He checked the kitchen first, his eyes shined when he saw all the new food; and made himslef some breakfast (or lunch? What time it was again?)

And then got back to explore the house.

One thing he started to do was just grab random junk and take it in his room. Mostly it was stuff that Fugo forget to repair or something that catched his eye, may it be stuff left in the guest rooms or that maybe once was used by the maids of the house.

Trinking and trying to repair stuff was sure better than trying to read all those books on his own, he would wait Fugo for that

Speaking of Fugo nh...maybe he could use the stuff he found to make something for chirstmas~!

purplecraze — 09/11/2021 11:58 PM

yeah, you could. but what's the guarantee he won't break it again?

either way, there's plenty to work with, and Fugo had clearly said that he could have anything he wanted.

There's not a trace from the blond for the rest of the day, he must have been very tired what with the fever, the curse, the dome, narancia and the supplies.

orange-plane-boy — 09/12/2021 12:08 AM

After some time Narancia got back in the kitchen, he wondered if Fugo had some food with him in his room, because he didnt saw him the whole day...

Oh well he could make something before the sunrise!

Quite excited he started to grab some of the new stuff and trying to cook something.

When he was done the kitchen was a mess, but he was really pround of himself.

He grabbed the plate and went upstair, knocking the door

"Panna~~ I made some stuff to eat! I have uuhh, mash poteto, and i grilled some bread and cheese aaaand chicken breast! Can i come in or i leave the plate here?"

purplecraze — 09/12/2021 12:18 AM

there came no reply. he's not in?

orange-plane-boy — 09/12/2021 12:19 AM

He waited a bit and then reached the handle, even if he wasnt in the room, he could leave the plate on the night stand for him to eat later

purplecraze — 09/12/2021 12:21 AM

no, he was there afterall. only he's completely out cold and drained.

orange-plane-boy — 09/12/2021 12:24 AM

Oh- Well he must be tried...

He left the plate on the nightstand and looked at him, despite looking tired he was cute eheh

"Sleep well" He wispered

purplecraze — 09/12/2021 12:25 AM

"hh....nmmhh....." he tossed around a bit. seems he was indeed a very restless sleeper.

orange-plane-boy — 09/12/2021 12:28 AM

Cute!

Better let him rest before the sun setted, so he left the room.

He grabbed him own plate and some extra bread if he got some munchies in the night and got in his own bedroom, locking the door.

He had his dinner and then took a bath.

He had enough junk and trinket to spend the night if he wasnt able to sleep, so for once he would try to stay inside

purplecraze — 09/12/2021 12:43 AM

considering it was the night after the full moon, there was only some distant moaning, and sometimes something breaking. the majority of the night was fairly silent.

#purplecraze #orange plane boy #fugo replies #beauty and the beast AU

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deadxlv · 5 months

Text

Far Away Soul, White Cold Star 💫

“Father..I’ve..crossed the Stars..” Chapter: 8

Far above the clouds, away from all the destruction, I opened my eyes.. I felt no pain, I felt... warmth.. it is like I'm back home again, but I feel so light it's like.. I'm flying-" opening his eyes Hijìn wasn't in the desert, not even at the place where he was floating.. he was flying above the planet in space. In fear, he looked down seeing how far up he was putting his hands to cover his face thinks he was going to die, yet there was something off about him.. he moved his hands back and they were transparent.. not only transparent but they were glowing a light orange. "What happened to me.. am I- no.. am I dead.." Hijìn thought with a saddened look on his face, looking around and seeing millions of souls flying in the same path he is going.

He clenched his fists in disappointment believing he had truly failed Aba.. if only he could see him one last time. A touch.. a touch, and another.. the boy's attention was lost as he turned around and saw a familiar face, it was Kÿr and oddly enough he was exactly like his friend just now glowing with an odd Blue transparent body. "A-re we?" Asked Hijìn staring out at the abyss of space ahead "yup.. this is the end of the line friend, I never imagined death to seem so beautiful but so endless.. I'm sorry we couldn't win- if only we..". Kÿr was cut off by his friend who said "No.. I should've listened to my father.. I should have stayed home away and never caused this madness I don't want you taking responsibility". Kÿr stared at his friend with hollow white glowing eyes upset at the sentiment "But.." only to be met with silence.

They stayed flying above the planet they once lived on to space and beyond slowly growing more and more empty. Was this really going to be the rest of their lives? Could this be the end? Hell, how could you even get out of this? Nevertheless, the world below them slowly rotated beneath them.. clouds flew by as time changed, and an expansive red continent passed down below them, followed by icy planes to expansive oceans. "I never knew the world was this beautiful.." Kÿr said as he held his friend's hand whilst they flew across the sky.

Hijìn nodded in agreement, but this end wasn't good enough for him.. he wanted to be free- live a long life.. meet new people; In his desperation, he would let go of Kÿr's hand and try to swim down towards the planet again. In a sense of heart wrench, "W-wait!? What do you think you're doing?!" Exclaimed Kÿr, he was long since void of any hope.. ever since the Corpse died he knew things would never be the same only to watch his friend try and continue in a life he's lost. "I don't care what anyone says.. I don't care for anything- I'm not going to stay up here and slowly fade away.. I-I can't be sure if it but these people lost their colors and are white souls because they lost their identities by being here so long, you can stay here but I am living.. I AM LIVING!" Yelled Hijìn in desperation not wanting this to be the end.

Kÿr watched on in hopelessness as his friend continued trying to swim down to the planet below, turning around and noticing something faint.. he jerked his body around to turn fully and his face grew emotionless. Far up in the sky, after being launched so hard by the Goddess the two's remains were shot to escape velocity speeds and ejected out to space, bodies frozen in the cold and torn to pieces by the speed and force Kÿr's soul watched in regret. "So we're stuck as Souls.. huh" He said in a depressed manner as the horizon to his right began to glow a soft purple.

Hijìn who grabbed onto an asteroid hopped off and propelled himself further until he was stopped by a strange purple aura, the glow illuminated his orange transparent face. Looking up and over the horizon of the world, the purple glow would continue to shine then from the darkness an explosion of light came over all things. Hijìn's empty hollow white eyes widened as the figure of a woman rising up covered the planet's backside, she stretched across the whole planet and seemed to be made of stardust. Hijìn stopped and simply watched, never seeing something so incredible before- Kÿr holding onto his dead body's face turned around to see the woman and he grew agitated snarling "Fate.."

The gigantic woman would awake opening her glowing white hollow eyes and rest her head on the planet, she appeared to be a spirit as well but for her sheer magnitude could she be a God?! Kÿr let go of his dead body and was about to shout out at the woman but before he could she silenced him by glancing at him. When she spoke the stars around them far away glowed like never before, the clouds turned pure white, and the two nearby giants which orbited the planet began to alternate in amazing colors. "Kÿr and Hijìn.. my two adorable sons, you did quite a mess on Almôra~ and sadly now you had to deal with one of the planet sisters Kudra..". Hijìn was outright scared and well-reasoned to, Aba had told him about Mother Fate and how cynical she could be with the punishment of individuals who pass their bounds making this interaction even the worse for the two.

Mother Fate would seemingly sigh at the sight of the two boys whizzing above the heavens of their home planet, she would look around the surrounding worlds before softly smiling with her eyes at the two. "You two are pure-hearted souls.. I can see that by reading your past lives-" she glared at Kÿr again who was rolling around a bit off balance and feeling her eyes on him he stopped and stared embarrassed. "Can we go back..?" Hijìn proclaimed out to Mother Fate wanting to know, he was still fearless, still wanting to fix anything not wanting to stay in this ethereal plane forever. Mother Fate watched Hijìn and would smile "Although there isn't a true way to be brought back to life..I'll let this one instance fly over the heavens..just don't act a fool and get yourself killed again." she said getting serious at the last part.

Hearing this news Hijìn grew so happy he started spinning around on the asteroid field before jumping over and bear hugging Kÿr who was taken back by such a gesture, but he felt there was a catch to it. "What's the catch.. I know you Fate.. there is always something to itch at the end of every reward" Kÿr said glaring at Mother Fate even though she bestowed upon him a second chance at life. She snickered as she gestured to stop playing. "Listen, my Son.. I have no reason to mess this time around, although I'd like for you to stop using my name to talk bad things.. ok? Now get going..I have many more important things to handle..and much more at work than it seems." she said as she flicked her hand, the boys would slowly start falling back down.

However, before they could fall far enough another Fate would say one last thing "Hijìn". He would turn to face her curious while also being excited for his new shot- "Hijìn you have a very unique looking soul.. it's like your multiple individuals in one and it makes you beautiful- but my true message is.. when you make it down.. look for the North Star I promise you'll find comfort". He nodded only to feel something off-putting about the North Star. He opened his mouth to try and ask something, but it was too late and they began to fall towards the planet at an alarming rate. They appeared like comets in the sky coming down to crash down, the world seemed to rotate faster until it came down to the red continent below. "W-w-wait?! We aren't going to the Desert again?!" Kÿr said in confusion and shock as they rapidly approached "Fate you Fucking Bi!" he said just as they broke through the atmosphere.

Mother Fate chuckled for a second knowing damn well that was her catch the whole time she just didn't feel bothered to mention it this time, she soon vanished amongst the stars leaving behind traces of stardust in her wake. Down below the boys made impact and landed in the red mega continent Valèrqä where many strange animals and vegetation exist upon. On impact the extremely tall trees were shaken harshly by the shockwave and out came the boys from their small crater, back in their bodies, back to their normal selves just in a brand-new world. The tendril in Hijìn's blind eye would quiver inside his head making him grow discomfort holding his head already getting strange feelings after just coming back from the dead.

An Alien world unknown to them before is now upon the two to discover and survive on. It brings new perils never seen before and adversaries stronger than they could imagine- following their deaths Hijìn and Kÿr must find their way around this Forest and maybe just maybe find a way back to their home.

(Authors Note: This is the end of the first Arc of "Far Away Soul, White Cold Star". I hope you enjoyed it and want to see more, any criticisms or comments will help the furthering of this story in the future. I plan to make this very long with many coinciding arcs in the future.. The Desert was just the beginning, and many more adventures were to be seen. Just for the small introduction of the next Arc, have this snit-bit)

Far away from the new arrivals on this Red new landscape, someone was watching from afar, they bore dark garbs and solemnly stared investigating what had recently arrived from the heavens above. The acts of Mother Fate had impacted the world below making seasonal changes to even the whole scale destruction in certain parts, these two could become an issue.. all that is left are two clear white eyes staring from the darkness until it vanished into thin air. Whole acres of trees combusting in the open air randomly, all is left to be seen and the Boys are the prime target now..

#action adventure #male protagonist #oc story #original story #forgonelands #forgonelandsoc #furry friends #firstarc #arcstarter

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coffee-n-bagels-comic-universe · 2 years

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Superheroes with Secrets: Mangers and Broken Beds (Fic Part 166. Set in 2001)

Around 2000 Words. 18+ in places. Please inform me if you wish to be tagged/untagged from posts.

Tags: @tantamount-treason @piratewithvigor

Reference Posts: ‘Giantess’/'Blacklight Bandit’ Kirby Roussimoff x Shane ’Hurricane’ Helms (Circa 2001)

"You know I'm kidding. I'm a plain ol' human."

"Don't you dare make any jokes like that again, mon mari, seriously not cool."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"I'm Celtic by blood, so I grew up with the stories of the fae folk, I know what happens if they trick you or lure you in… it all ends in death or losing yourself, doesn't help that there are stories of the fae stealing human babies and replacing them with changelings, makes a new mother like myself extremely nervous."

"No one's tricked you or lured you. We're not beasts besides being from No Co." He chuckles.

"Yeah, but ya ain't no beast, fy ngwr, ain't no beast at all, just a very sexy man." Kirby sighs.

"Maybe a sexy beast?"

"Don't push your luck, or I'll call you a leprechaun."

"Green and short and tricky and cute? It might be apt."

"A small mischievous sprite."

"Exactly."

"The exact opposite of a 'gentle giant'." Kirby smirks.

"Opposites attract, my love."

"They do indeed, mon ange."

"It's what makes us such a good pair."

"Orange and Green, a perfect team… and the two colours that combine to make the colour of siocled."

"Siocled?"

"It's Welsh for chocolate."

"Dammit, I knew that."

Kirby chuckles softly, "it's okay, fy ngwr, it's okay."

"I'm working on it, I promise I'm getting there."

"Would you like some help, I can teach you things until I have to actually try and get into the teaching course at NC University."

"I'll be good practice."

"Yeah, so go ahead and ask me about any words that you want me to translate into Welsh for you so you can learn." Kirby murmurs as she readjusts her shirt.

"I'll ask as they come up. I'm getting there bit by bit."

"You still wanna take this upstairs and ya know, ei gael ymlaen?" Kirby teases.

"Absolutely I do."

"Are you gonna carry me upstairs?"

Helms bends down and scoops Kirby up, hardly straining at all to hold her.

"Oh Shane… you're so strong." Kirby murmurs in awe.

"Just for you, my love."

Kirby smirks as Helms carries her to the bedroom, pulling Helms into a heated kiss the moment he puts her on the bed.

"Do have to admit, I have to work out harder to keep up with Lilith."

"Then can I treat you to some lip service, maybe let you cum all over me as payback?"

"Works for me."

"Lay down baby daddy, I wanna make out before we make love."

The moment Helms gets settled into making out with Kirby, the bed creaks loudly beneath them before breaking and falling hard to the floor, making Kirby squeak in shock.

"Jesus, Lilith's getting big…"

"Don't blame the baby, blame the fact that we are probably the cause of the bed breaking, after all you do tend to fuck me rather hard, but I also have a tendency to ride you until you pull me down to fill me up."

"Well, I guess that's true too."

"We are partly to blame, Lilith is partly to blame, and now we have a most definitely broken bed… it is kinda funny though… the thought that we have actually fucked until the bed broke." Kirby murmurs, trying not to laugh.

"It would be hilarious if we had another bed for tonight."

Kirby nods, blushing a light pink and looking away from Helms.

"Maybe this is something we can fix."

Kirby nods again, biting her lip to stifle her giggles.

"Kinda is funny, isn't it?" He chuckles.

Kirby looks at Helms, unable to hold back her laughter anymore and she starts giggling. Her giggles only make him laugh harder.

"I don't mean to laugh, but… it's so funny that we've actually…" Kirby takes a breath, struggling to talk without giggling.

"We finally fucked too hard?"

Kirby nods, blushing a deep red as she tries to stop giggling.

"Hope to do it again someday."

"It's funnier because this bed was reinforced to take both my weight and dad's combined." Kirby murmurs.

"We just wore the ol' girl down."

"Exactly, it has taken us less than a year to wear down a bed I've had since I was ten." Kirby chuckles softly.

"Well, if you've had it for over twenty years, that means it was on its last legs anyway."

"You're probably right, mon ange."

"I mean, mattresses should be replaced twice as often."

"The mattress is from three years ago, it's fine mon mari, still comfy… for one of Show's old mattresses." Kirby murmurs, hoping Helms doesn't hear the full sentence.

"Show used this?"

Kirby nods, blushing a light pink.

"Yup. We're gonna need a whole new bed." He chuckles.

"We may have to get the bed made custom built because I am particularly tall in case you have forgotten that the world is much smaller than my proportions."

"I never forget, sweetheart. In all honesty, I think the only thing that broke this one was the age. If we got one just like it, we should be fine."

"Can we… can we get a canopy bed, like a dark green one… please, Shaney baby?"

"That depends, do you get dust allergies?"

"No, do you?"

"I'm clean."

"So… canopy bed, so I can live out my regal dreams?" Kirby asks gently.

"Absolutely."

"Yay… I love you, mon mari."

"I love you too, sweetheart."

"You are my Prince Charming, mon ange."

"You're my beautiful princess."

"Am I a beautiful gothic princess, my love, would you defeat a dragon for me?"

"Better, I would befriend the dragon and convince it to come defend the house and be at your beck and call."

"Is that because I'm Welsh, you would befriend a dragon because your wife is from the one place with a dragon flag, I don't speak draig." Kirby jokes.

"I'd befriend it because dragons are cool as fuck and if I could trust it, it would be better than any guard dog."

"Ooh, like in the Munsters."

"Exactly."

Kirby's eyes light up with excitement, her breathing hitches slightly as she gets lost in her thoughts.

"Anything else you wanna redecorate with?"

"Uhm… can I draw up some design plans and then tell you about my ideas so you can add your ideas into it?"

"Anything you want."

"If I could get up, I would start working on that now, but I kinda want to make love to you before I move…" Kirby murmurs.

"On the broken bed?"

"Well, I still have my leg in a cast, so it's either laying down or nothing."

"Yes, ma'am." He grins.

"You wanna get freaky, mon amour?" Kirby teases as she kisses him gently.

"As freaky as safe for your leg."

"I can fuck you without putting weight on that leg."

"Get as freaky as you want, Princess."

Kirby shifts her weight to get on top of Helms, kissing him deeply and grinding her hips against his.

"Gonna tease like this all night, or are you gonna whip me out?"

Kirby smirks as she pulls Helms' pants and underwear down, kissing his neck and wrapping one hand around his cock, stroking slowly at first before upping her pace. His head tips back as he groans deeply. Kirby slides her underwear off and starts playing with her clit as she continues to stroke his cock.

"Ain't gonna rub your clit on me?"

Kirby nips at his neck, moving to do as Helms asks. She takes a deep breath before shifting herself again to slide Helms' cock into her wet heat, moaning pitifully as she does so.

"God, you feel so perfect…"

"Says the guy with a giant slayer dick." Kirby chuckles softly.

"I only slay giants cause you like riding me."

"I like riding you because you're my one true love."

"And you're mine."

"A match made in heaven, or are we too sinful?"

"A perfect match made in hell."

"A vampiric sex god with complete power over a giantess, but a sex god who only wants to see her happy and pregnant."

"You got me." He grins.

"Shane, I reckon if we have more than just Lilith, like your supposed plan is, we'll probably end up with the reverse of the Harts, mostly girls and all of whom can kick ass." Kirby murmurs.

"They'll kick ass for sure. Gender is up to the kids and my swimmers."

"Yeah, I'll support them no matter what, but uhh, I always thought the worst insult you could give someone is that your shocked that they're the swimmer who won the race."

"Well, technically, they are the swimmer who gets inside the egg first, but it's usually billions of other little swimmers who first tunnel through the protective barrier."

"Alright, Shane, I have a lack of sexual knowledge, so I have no idea what that means."

"Well, the egg has a protective barrier, that the sperm has to tunnel through, so the first one to reach the barrier has to tunnel and by the time they're done tunnelling, one of the slower-swimming sperm will use their reserved energy to get to the egg first."

"Ahh, so the real insult would be that you wish another sperm had won the race… this is good, I can now insult Sunny next time she tries to be relevant." Kirby murmurs.

"Good call."

"I love you, mon mari, you are my favourite person."

"And you're mine. By far."

"Ooh, tough question for ya, which Hardy brother do you prefer?"

"Well, that's just not fair," He laughs, "They're both my baby brothers."

"That doesn't count as an answer… I'll change the question slightly, including Shannon, which one of those three idiots is your favourite idiot… and no choosing Lita or Delilah instead of one of the boys."

"I mean… I only fucked one of them…"

"Regardless of if you've fucked 'em, ya goof." Kirby whispers.

"Just saying I could have fucked any of them and I picked Shannon."

"Now I have the mental image of you and Matt fucking, Jesus."

"Us fucking Jesus? Not my fantasy three-way, but whatever gets you off, babe." He winks.

"I will absolutely stop fucking you for a week, ya dingus."

"It's a dad joke. I gotta get in practice."

"Thought dad jokes weren't sexual."

"They are when my wife's riding me."

"Wifey will stop riding you if you make dad jokes during sex."

"Yes, ma'am."

"But," Kirby pauses to stifle a moan, "for now, I'm all yours."

"That's right. All mine."

"Shane, my love, you can grab me if you want, get a little rough." Kirby whispers.

After they come back downstairs from their steamy love making, Kirby starts singing in Gaelic to herself.

"Gonna serenade me as we cook?"

"Maybe, would you like to hear Amhrán na leabhar?"

"Yes please."

"Go Cuan Bhéil Inse casadh mé, Cois Góilín aoibhinn Dairbhre, Mar a seoltar flít na farraige, Thar sáile i gcéin. I Portmagee do stadas seal, Fé thuairim intinn maitheasa, D'fhonn bheith sealad eatarthu, Mar mháistir léinn. Is gearr gur chuala an eachtara, Ag cách mo léan! Gur i mBord Eoghain Fhinn do chailleathas, An t-árthach tréan. Do phreab mo chroí le hatuirse, I dtaobh loinge an taoisigh chalma, Go mb'fhearrde an tír í 'sheasamh seal, Do ráib an tséin." Kirby begins singing in Irish Gaelic, "Mo chiach, mo chumha is m'atuirse! Mé im iarsma dubhach ag ainnise, Is mé síoraí 'déanamh marana, Ar mo chás bhocht féin! Mo chuid éadaigh chumhdaigh scaipithe, Bhí déanta cumtha, ceapaithe, Is do thriaill thar thriúcha Banban, Mar bhláth faoi mo dhéin. Iad bheith imithe san fharraige, Ar bharr an scéil, Is a thuilleadh acu sa lasair, Is mé go támhach trém néal; Ba thrua le cách ar maidin mé, Go buartha, cásmhar, ceasnaithe, Is an fuacht a chráigh im bhalla mé, Gan snáth ón spéir! Ní hé sin is mó a chealg me, Ná chráigh mé arís im aigne, Ach nuair chínn féin fuadar fearthainne, Gach lá faoin spéir; Neart gaoithe aduaidh is anaithe, Is síon rómhór gan aga ar bith, Tinte luatha lasrach, Is scáil na gcaor. Chrom an uain ar shneachta 'chur, Le gála tréan, Ar feadh deich n-uair gan amharca, Le fáil ar ghréin. Na doitheanna cruadha peannaide, A líon rómhór den ghalar mé, D'fhág suim gan suan ar leaba mé, Go tláth i bpéin! Dá shiúlfainn Éire is Alba, An Fhrainc, an Spáinn is Sasana, Agus fós arís dá n-abrainn, Gach aird faoin ré, Ní bhfaighinnse an oiread leabhartha, B'fhearr eolas agus tairbhe, Ná is mó bhí chum mo mhaitheasa, Cé táid ar strae. Mo chreach! mo chumha ina n-easnamh siúd, Do fágadh mé! Is mór an cúrsa marana, Agus cás liom é, Mallacht Dé is na hEaglaise, Ar an gcarraig ghránna mhallaithe, A bháigh an long gan anaithe, Gan ghála, gan ghaoth. Bhí mórán Éireann leabhartha, Nár áiríos díbh im labhartha, Leabhar na Laighneach beannaithe, Ba bhreátha faoin spéir. An "Feirmeoir" álainn, gasta, deas, A chuireadh a shíol go blasta ceart, Thug ruachnoic fraoigh is aitinn ghlais, Go gealbhánta féir. Scoirim as mo labhartha, Cé chrádar mé, Is ná cuirfeadsa aon ní ar fharraige, Go brách lem ré; Moladh le Rí an nAingeal ngeal, Mo shláinte arís a chasadh orm, Is an Fhoireann úd ón anaithe, Gan bá 'theacht saor!" Kirby finishes the song, blushing a light pink and smiling sweetly at Helms.

#superheroes with secrets #shane hurricane helms #kirby roussimoff #blacklight bandit #orange and green - the perfect team #shannon brian moore #sws #kirby andrea roussimoff #delilah keshet rosenbaum #gregory shane helms #jeffrey nero hardy #matthew moore hardy #lita hardy

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baekhvuns · 2 years

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FIRST OF ALL SEONGHWA IS THE MAN FROM THE ICE GUY AND HIS COOL FEMALE COLLEAGUE, DID HE FUCKEN HEAR US OR WHAT?!?! 😳😳😳😳 I also headcanoned him as Noe from Vanitas no Karte and now I got him 💖 godddd... Seonghwa's and Mingi's outfits, mwah let me steal, I thought they were both wearing skirts 😭

Second of all red Woo is finally real, but the red is REDDDD and ginger/orange Mingi?!

The amount of times I wanted to read a Ateez/Stray Kids Ouran inspired fic, not even anything with romance or smut in it, just then in that world 😭

Please no white hair Hwa pcs, naaaaurrrrr I don't want them, they'll cost me my other kidney :/ this Hwa with this Taeyang lmaoooo

My dreams of long-haired Hwa are getting further and further away, ehhhh what's going on in the back on his head usususbsjhdushsjsgsg anyway he looks good

Nether Hybe nor YG said anything about that fiasco??? Maybe they're investigating it behind the scene, but idk. Tbh both BTS and BP get so much hate maybe they're not bothered anymore, but I feel bad for both of them. If they're really together, but for real real not PR that's such a fucking move wtf 😵

Damn such a Usui simp, miss Baek but I get it... I'm currently re-watching Orange, have you seen it? Ngl, I'm tearing up a bit.

Oh no so it's THAT kind of ending, huh. I actually saw something, but I have no idea what was that about 🤡 Yonna pls uncurse yourself

Track, tennis, skating quite a variety, tbh I'm team skating or tennis, but runner Hwa is really hot too and actually a thing, I don't think he can play tennis or skate ksudisvsnshsuwjw

I listened to BP's album once it was fine, there wasn't anything I disliked per se, but nothing shook me. Yeah, I like SD much more than PV, it's too short and maybe I would prefer some more singing, but it's alright! 2 Baddies 1 Porsche... I can't take them seriously 😭 and the chorus is so wrong, but surprisingly the vocal parts are pleasant. I guess everyone's a rapper now? Idk how to feel about that 😬 and speaking of blonde hair, blonde Taeyong is superior, love him in colourful hair too, but black haired TY doesn't look right, blonde all the way!

Same with that Byeol video I was like AWWWWW KITTY and the replies went WHAT ABOUT THIS PUSSY. Truly a crime we've never seen Byeol with Ateez members :/ yeah Hwa and animals, we don't have much content of that, it's a sad world

Btw pussy...

Me at every fan sign: soooo that Taemin cov- Seonghwa: *blacklists me*

Should've barged in to that Sunmi gig!

I had Turkish dramas phase ages ago, because Magnificent Century was so popular over here, I was at uni at that time 😭

Look at this thread this is so rigged... the 1st place... that's not even his best part in that song who botted it :/

This the shade is better though I think they need to still work with it a bit. me: bright blonde Hwa is my least fave, also me with platinum blonde Hwa: *feel like I'm your cat, I'm your dog*

Okay but they're up to something what if Cyberpunk Halloween MV????? Don't wanna get too excited, but I'm used to losing so whatever

The show is premiering tonight uuuuuuuuuuh - DV 💖

hi hello!!

ITS NOT A COINCIDENCE ANYMORE EVERYTHING WE SAY COMES TRUE WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON 😭😭😭 ICE GUY JACKFROST COMING ALIVE he is everything and every white haired anime man !!!! YOOOO HWAS SKIRT LOOKED SO PRETTY IM GONNA NEED HIM TO DROP THE SHOP NAMES

Second of all red Woo is finally real, but the red is REDDDD and ginger/orange Mingi?!

STOP WOOYOUNG RED LIGHT ERA INCOMING FBFBF MINGI WONDERLAND ERA RETURN??? 😭😭😭😭😭😭 AND HELLO??

The amount of times I wanted to read a Ateez/Stray Kids Ouran inspired fic, not even anything with romance or smut in it, just then in that world 😭

omg i think someone was gonna write ateez as that but the event got closed 😭😭😭 someone needs to have a series where they write ateez fully as animes bC HOW HAS IT NOT BEEN DONE YET 😭😭

Please no white hair Hwa pcs, naaaaurrrrr I don't want them, they'll cost me my other kidney :/ this Hwa with this Taeyang lmaoooo

WHITE HAIR HWA PC’S ARE ABOUT TO BE 100 BUCKS NO COMPROMISING, one thing i absolutely hate about shinestar’s is that they don’t be giving discounts on pc’s,,, sorry wHAT ARE U GONNA DO WITH THIS MUCH MONEY GIRLIE

My dreams of long-haired Hwa are getting further and further away, ehhhh what's going on in the back on his head usususbsjhdushsjsgsg anyway he looks good

LMFAOOOO bald hwa back 😭😭😭 no bc the more they keep going silent, the more the fans are going crazy,,, the amount of likes tweets get that’s just straight up degrading miss jen but then those same fans preaching women power???? hypocrisy and every racist name in the book coming out ??? 😭😭 like their private accs are being shown and their photos from showering??? nasty as fuck how much tIMW DOES THAT PERSON HAVE jENNIE GIRLIE U NEED A STRONGASS PASSWORD BC ITS ALWAYS U BEING HACKED INTO 😭😭🤚🏼 nO YEAH IF THEY ARE TOGETHER, POWER COUPLE

Damn such a Usui simp, miss Baek but I get it... I'm currently re-watching Orange, have you seen it? Ngl, I'm tearing up a bit.

LMFAOOOO 😭😭 USUI REALLY STARTED IT ALL FOR ME DBDB YES I DO !!! every time i watch it i keep seeing harry hermoine and ron 😭😭

Oh no so it's THAT kind of ending, huh. I actually saw something, but I have no idea what was that about 🤡 Yonna pls uncurse yourself

YEAH UHUH THAT TYPW OF ENDING,,,, rushed, confusing… idk when the yoona curse is gonna be lifted bc cOME ON ITS BEEN WAY TOO LONG THE SHOW WAS SO GOOD THE ENDING JUST RUINED IT ALL IN 15 MINS

Track, tennis, skating quite a variety, tbh I'm team skating or tennis, but runner Hwa is really hot too and actually a thing, I don't think he can play tennis or skate ksudisvsnshsuwjw

u know we are discussing sports but this man out here ending every bakery owner by just sitting

i can absolutely agree on the nothing shocked me line bc same, a lot of it sounds like recycled version of don’t know what to do (yeah yeah yeah) or pretty savage (typa girl’s bass) but nice album nonetheless !!!! LMFAOOOO PLSSSS 2 BADDIES I FWKFHWK WHYS IT LIKE THAT 😭😭😭 THE BUILD UP IS SO NICE BUT THE 2 BADDIES 1 PORCHE SENDS ME FBWKFH blond taeyong >>>>> johnny abs we are being fED 🤲🏼 and jaehyun??? he was pISSED HE ATE HIS PARTS UP

LMFAOOOO BEQKHDQK WHAT ABOUT THIS PUSSY 😭😭😭😭😭 THE TWEETS WERE SO FUNNY,,, need an ateez normal episode where the only animals they are with are cars and dogs and not them 😭😭

Btw pussy...

LMFAOOOO PLS 😭😭😭 he catching nO scandals

Me at every fan sign: soooo that Taemin cov- Seonghwa: *blacklists me* /// Should've barged in to that Sunmi gig!

JDJDJDJDDJ AND ITLL BE WORTH THE BLACKLIST ☺️ I SHOULD HAVE BUT THE SECURITY DBDBDB WOULDVE CHUCKED ME OUT

I had Turkish dramas phase ages ago, because Magnificent Century was so popular over here, I was at uni at that time 😭

UR GONNA HAVE TO GIVE THIS ONE A TRY BC ITS TRULY SO GOOD

Look at this thread this is so rigged... the 1st place... that's not even his best part in that song who botted it :/ /// This the shade is better though I think they need to still work with it a bit. me: bright blonde Hwa is my least fave, also me with platinum blonde Hwa: *feel like I'm your cat, I'm your dog*

NAURRR ONE OF HIS BEST PARTS IS DAZZLING LIGHT THAT NEW SONG CANT COMPETE 🔫🔫🔫 no 100 this shade is Mich much better than the SMN one 😭😭 IM YOUR CAT IM YOUR DOG LMFAOOOO PLS FHWKDHKWDHEK

Okay but they're up to something what if Cyberpunk Halloween MV????? Don't wanna get too excited, but I'm used to losing so whatever

I’d literally pass away on spot,,, but i have a question the villain reader x king hwa,, does hwa have black hair or this new one..

The show is premiering tonight uuuuuuuuuuh - DV 💖

IM SO EXCITED TO BE COMPLETELY WRECKED BY JAE YOUNG 😭😭😭 1:28 pm : i-i am watching it right now and kyung pyo’s ceo character is 😳😵‍💫 he looks so cute and sincere 😭😭 1:31 n-nvm. BESTIE NANA’S CAMEO FJWJFKS 1:53 ohO

quiz 🔫

also idk if u have watched the anime negima but yeosang gives that exact core

#✉️ : ask #dv 💖 anon

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xgryffinwhore · 3 years

Text

september nights

request: i was wondering if you could write another soft bill smut? i don’t really have a specific plot in mind, we’re just really lacking content on tumblr rn :( in some really precarious place where they don’t want to get caught

warnings: soft smut, like i mean very soft.

word count: 2118

before your lips met bill denbrough’s, love was always, to say the least, a conundrum. lets be real for second, boys wasted your time, and you let them. only the cute ones of course. you are a hopeless romantic, drunk off of molly ringwald and john travolta films. you wanted any relationship you had to be just like the movies.

through your heart breaks, your best friends stood by you, your losers. eddie, richie, bev, stan, ben, and bill. for each tear you shed a punch was thrown to the man who caused it, they were protective over you. bill the most though, he always got so defensive when you were in the mix. all throughout middle & high school, bill has had to deal with every guy who even dares to think about breaking your heart.

“its not fair bill” you wailed into your pillow. he stroked your back and hushed you, his eyes welling with tears. “im never fucking good enough for any guy and its so fucking sad!” your complaints being cut off mid sentence by a choked out cry. “y-y/n. all of y-your boyfriend are i-idiots. anyone w-who would d-d-do this to you isnt w-worth your t-time. anyone w-would be the luckiest in the w-world to have y-you in their life” you picked your head up and looked at him with swollen lips and blood shot eyes “there no one out there for me bill, no one.”

he bit his lip, fighting back any tears dripping from his eyes “they j-just dont see how p-pretty you are. how g-gentle and caring and s-s-sweet, and h-how your face c-can light up any room. theyre f-fucking idiots, and you d-deserve m-more.” you clearly thought he was being nice, because you could take a MOTHER FUCKING GOD DAMN hint, so you replied “i wish there was someone out there like you, for me, that thinks of me the way you do.”

he furrowed his brows, tossing his head back and running his fingers furiously through his hair. “d-dammit y/n!” he cursed “cant you s-see what ive b-been trying to say? w-w-what ive been t-trying to say f-for the last f-five years!?!” your expression was bewildered, your brain was going a mile a minute trying to figure out what he meant. his frustration got the best of him, he got up and stormed out the door, feeling embarrassed and stupid for trying to make you understand how he felt.

he was half way out your front door, fuming for his keys lodged deep into his front pocket; when suddenly:

“bill!”

his head turned at the call of his name, “y-y/n please i d-”

smack.

your lips locked with his, he rain pouring heavily outside. bills lips stilled at the contact, but this lasted briefly, he deepened this kiss by pulling you in to his abdomen by your mid back. your bunched the front of his base ball t shirt with your fists, and he did the same but with your hair.

the rest is basically history.

now six months later, and you couldnt have been happier. bill knew how to treat you, nights out twice a week (you always wanted to pay but bill insisted,) holding your hand to and from classes, he let you borrow have his varsity baseball jacket, which smelt just like him and was a little too big for you.

when he would drop you off and your classes, he would always grab your hand and transfer a tiny piece of paper into your palm. when you got into class to unfold it, it was always a cute little message about his love for you.

bill had it bad for you, everyone knew that, and you loved every minute of it. he met every and any standard you had, and exceeded your expectations.

it was september, still warm enough in derry to wear shorts, so you and your friends thought of a last hurrah for the ending of the summery weather.

“camp out, its nearly perfect” Richie exclaimed. eddie rolled his eyes “like youve ever been near anything perfect toizer, do you even know what perfect means?” richie shoved eddie “yeah eddie i actually have. have you seen amanda’s tits?”

you tuned out richie and eddies bickering as you’re boyfriend cleared his throat. “you g-gonna go?” he said into your ear, “only if you promise to wear bug spray bill, you know how bad-” he cut you off with a kiss, his mouth forming a small smile at how cute you were. “get a room, honestly” stan poked, pda wasn’t his favorite... “at least i h-have something to k-kiss aye s-stannie”

you arrived at the edge of the forest, parking your car at the last parking ish space. you walked toward the sounds of ben and richie fighting, and came to see that richie really went all out. three tents, sticks for a fire, and more snacks than anyone needed.

you all spent the remanence of the daylight dancing in the light sky, sharing stories, and eating waaaay too many chips. it was dark now, you all huddled in a circle near the fire; making small talk and trying not to admit you were all very tired.

“ok folks, im off to bed” richie yawned “me stan eddie n’ mike will take the green tent, bev and ben in the red.” richie paused and smirked over at you and bill, you were tangled in his limbs, golfed in his navy blue pull over. “and uh- heh- billy boy and y/n in the yellow tent eh?” you could practically feel bills eye roll, god richie was so immature.

“w-we dont have to s-sleep in the s-s-same tent, i c-can ask ben if he’d s-switch” you look up at bill and reassure him “bill no- its not a big deal, right?” he tucks your hair behind your ear and kisses the side of your temple “c-course not.”

you both went into the tent, bill began to unroll the blankets you both had packed tightly into your bags. You both set up your makeshift bed, bill leaned against a pile of pillows while you hugged his side, your face buried in his neck. his smell was absolutely intoxicating; his skin had remanence of his milk and honey body wash, but it was slightly overpowered by wintergreen, clove, and his bourbon cologne.

you were like this for around an hour, the orange crank-powered lantern being the only source of light. you switch positions though, you now laid your head on his lap, reading a magazine you stole from the hair salon. he watched your eyes scan every letter, when you read something funny you’d huff to yourself, and when something was intresting you stuck your tongue out from between your teeth. he adored you.

“d-dont stay up t-too late” he stroked your hair off your shoulder “we have t-to have you w-well r-r-rested.” you sat up from beside him, as he adjusted the pillows and took off his pull over, then his pants. he got under the covers and waited for you.

“nice donut boxers” you laughed. “s-shut up” he blushed and regreted not changing them when he had the chance. you turned around took off your shirt, you were shy about how you looked, but it was just bill. it was just bill. you heard his breath hitch, his eagerness radiating off his body onto yours. the air became tense as you unzipped your pants and threw them to the corner. you turned around, bills pupils growing until you were completely facing him.

“yeah i know. mine are boring” you laugh nervously, brushing your hair behind your ear and getting under the covers next to him. he didnt respond, he couldnt take his eyes off of you.you began to sit up again “i can go put back on-” “n-no!” he interrupts, his blush taking up his entire face.

“i j-j-just cant b-believe i g-get to see something s-so special” he gulped “s-so b-b-b-beautiful.”

you grabbed him by his shoulders and kissed him, hard. youve been with boys before, i mean youve dated plenty of people. but no one ever called your body special. hot, yeah. nice, yeah. beautiful, sure. but no one ever thought that it was special.

bill was a kind boy, the most you two have ever done is get each other off with your hands, always clothed. bill never asked to see more, he felt lucky enough just to make you feel good, and that was enough for him. so when you felt the heat of his hands hovering over your body but not touching it, you new you’d have to call the shots tonight.

“bill,” you laid down “just touch me everywhere, please.” he crawled in between your legs, kneeling so that he could lean over your face “m-my pleasure.”

he traced your collar, leaving small, delicate, kisses to make up for what his fingers left behind as they trailed. he kissed the valley between your breasts, licking slow striped down your skin. he picked up your upper back a little and cocked his head to the side, you nodded and he unclipped your bra. he sat their with his mouth open, taking in the view. you blushed and muttered “hey, keep that mouth to good use.” he dipped down and sucked on your nipples, his mouth felt so good against your skin grazed with goosebumps. he was gingerly with his tongue, it was sexy, it was romantic. he kissed down your stomach, his fingers sweeping down your sides. you could see his member pressing against his boxers, the pressure made him wince every once in a while. his fingers met your panties and he hooked them. again, he looked up for permission, you nodded once again.

he brought your underwear down your legs and off, looking back to see what he had relieved. he licked his lips, getting ready to please you more than he already did. but you felt bad, bill always gave gave and gave. “its ok, im ready right now.” bill looked up at you in shock, he wasnt expecting you’d want to go all the way. “y/n, y-youre sure?” you lean up and kiss his lips, swiping your tongue against his bottom lip “please.”

he pulled down his boxers eagerly, his member sprung out to hit his stomach. he lined up with you, checking once more that it was ok. then he pushed in, bottoming out. he felt bigger than you thought, of course he was well endowed, but he filled you up so well. you mewled, the pain and pleasure making a delicious feeling that made your toes curl.

he waited, but began slowly moving after a bit. he grunted, feeling you wrapped around him was something he’d never be able to get out of his head he thought to himself. he grunted “f-fuck this feels g-good’ he grunted, his breath becoming heavy and full of lust. with every stroke, you felt yourself get more and more lost in the bliss he made you feel. “youre making me feel so good bill” you moan, the sound of his name coming out of your mouth driving him absolutely crazy. he speeds up, loving the view of your face contorting in pleasure and your body moving with his.

he couldnt help but feel admiration to you, your hair formed a halo around your head, and the sweat that coated your skin made you glisten in the orange light. “im t-the luckiest in the world” he husks, holding your cheek.

you felt the knot in your core coming undone, “bill im close” you strain, trying not to be too loud so you dont wake your friends. he moved your leg up to his shoulder, hitting you from a different, deeper angle. his fingers went to your clit, making you bite your had to stop you from screaming. “you l-look so p-pretty y/n, t-taking me s-so well. making y-you feel so good.” “so good bill” you repeat, drunken off his cock and fingers.

without warning, you came came, your legs spazzing as you moaned “fuck bill” he followed, his hips stuttering, as he cried out into your shoulder. he pulled out and laid next to you, both of you breathing heavily and coming off your highs.

“y/n” he looked at you “t-that was really j-just wow- thank y-you.” you kissed him, chaste and sweet “that was great yeah?” “it w-was perfect babe. t-thank you f-for t-that. i love you y-y/n.”

“i love you too bill.”

he sat up, his fingers dancing on your inner thigh.

“y/n?”

“yeah?”

“c-can we p-please do t-that again?”

#bill denbrough #bill denbrough x reader #bill denbrough smut #bill denbrough x you #bill denbrough fanfic #IT movie #it fanfiction #it bill #jaeden martell #jaeden lieberher #jaeden wesley #jaeden x reader #jaeden martell x reader #jaeden martell smut #richie tozier #eddiekaspbrak #stanley uris

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writeformesinpie · 3 years

Text

A Cookie Club

Chapter One: First Impressions

Akatsuki x Fem!Reader

Word Count - 2k

Genre - Crack/Harem

Summary -

You need a club to help beef up your college resume and you’ve always considered yourself a decent Magic: The Gathering player, but looking around the room you start to think that this is not the type of ‘magic’ they had in mind.

The Reverse Harem Crack Fic where you end up on wacky adventures with the Akatsuki who have all made it their mission to get in your pants. Who will win your heart?

Warnings -

Eventual smut, suggestive, slow burn, alcohol consumption, the occasional unwanted advances, dirty jokes, criminal behaviour,

A Cookie Club Masterlist

Anime Masterlist

“Oops, I'm sorry. I think I'm in the wrong place…”

You looked around the room, your face a mixture of shock and wonder. You glanced with suspicion at the number listed on the room. 1408. It was the right number, unless you had written it down wrong. You hadn't doubled checked it at the time as you were in a rush. After already missing several days of your first week, you didn't want to make a horrible first impression. Peering around the room now, you somehow felt that wouldn't be an issue. You had a feeling that the people in this room didn’t care one way or another if you were late or not.

“Where are you aiming to be?” A man with spiked-up orange hair and several unique facial piercings asked without looking up from the laptop he was focused on.

You shuffled to your feet and looked at the ground. “Uh, the Magic club.”

“Then you’ve reached the right place, un.” A blond pulled a single red rose from behind your ear. You took a step back and observed the man. He was wearing thick black eyeliner and a fishnet shirt. He brushed a hand through the long bangs that covered the left side of his face all the way back to the high ponytail he was sporting. He chuckled, “The name’s Deidara. I'm sure you’ve heard of me?”

“Huh? Uh, no, but the banner?” You ignored the now sulking blond as you pointed to the material spread across the doorway. It was simple, so simple in fact that you thought maybe one of their younger siblings had made it. It was also lopsided, so much so that even someone half-blind would notice. It was black with a few red clouds and a single word splashed across the middle in white - ‘Akatsuki’.

“This is indeed the Magic club. The banner was my idea. It took me several nights to make that. Good, right? This team’s name is Akatsuki-” Laptop Guy looked you up and down, “-and you are?”

“I signed up for the club but I was under the impression that this was a club for the card game Magic The Gathering,” your voice drifted off as you pondered if he was serious. The banner looked like a child had made it. He had to be kidding, right? You decided to let it go as you took in the scene before you.

There were two men near the window juggling, one towering over the other. In fact, he towered over everyone in the room. He had three scars under each of his eyes and his blue hair was styled up into a mohawk. The man next to him was under six foot with straight black hair and long, pronounced tear troughs beneath dark eyes that didn't bother looking up at you. The man with the mohawk was having a hard time keeping the balls in the air. As soon as he got momentum, he got too excited and the balls would smash against the ceiling. As he was closer to the ceiling, he had less space to allow the balls to stay in flight above him. His companion smiled and encouraged him to try again several times, his set of balls staying in the air with ease as he fiddled around and spoke.

A woman with a light blue paper flower swept in her short blue hair sat next to Piercing Guy while making a paper crane. Her lavender-shaded amber eyes glazed over you before returning to her multi-colored paper. The table was filled with disproportionate objects and plush animals of every colour in the rainbow. Some had unraveled and others slumped with sadness as if wishing to be whole. On her right was a man with tousled, red hair who was painting a doll. He also didn't look up from his table as he strung the separate parts of the creature’s limbs together. It made you shiver, forcing you to look away. Behind him was a man with short, spiked black hair. The entire right side of his face was scarred. He had a smile on his lips as he shuffled a deck of playing cards. He threw them into his left hand before waving at you with vigorous enthusiasm. You lifted your hand up with a slight nod before your eyes landed on the man in the corner of the room.

The aura he gave off was terrifying. His arms were folded across his chest as his intense gaze attempted to hypnotize you. The sun shied away from the corner, almost as if refusing to touch the man. He was in shadows but even from this far away, you could make out the purple eyes that complemented his slicked-back silver hair. This man screamed danger. You compelled your eyes to look back over to Piercing Guy. You wished you hadn't. It turned out that Purple Eyes in the corner wasn't the only one with a look that could kill. You took another step back toward the exit.

“Like I said, I think I'm in the wrong place.”

“Magic The Gathering, you said? You are in the right place. This is meant to be a club for the card game, however these idiots have turned it into a different type of magic.” Piercing Guy narrowed his eyes, waving his hand toward the jugglers. He turned and looked at the rest of the group before chuckling, “or no magic at all.”

“This… this is magic!” Deidara exclaimed as he produced a white dove from behind his back. He smirked at your widening eyes as you looked behind him, trying to figure out where the bird had come from.

“Put the stupid bird back in the cage before I boil it and eat it,” Piercing Guy snapped before returning his focus to his laptop in an obvious attempt to ignore the strange people around him.

“You can’t do that, Pain! It’s the club mascot!”

Pain? What a strange name. You let the argument play out, only half-listening as Pain declared the club did not have a mascot. You slid over to the cordial man with the cards and the scars. He seemed sweet. “What about you? What is your magic? Do you know any card tricks?”

“Tobi knows a lot of card tricks. He knows so many card tricks-” he threw the deck on the table with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. A shiver ran down your spine as his voice deepened. His black eyes stared at you, refusing to break contact, “-but I wouldn’t know anything about that.”

You wondered if it was too late to change clubs. You tried to smile as you backed up once more, easing your way over to the redhead in front of him.

He didn’t look up, continuing to weave magic through his fingers as he murmured, “I guess this is a type of magic but to me, it is closer to art.”

“Did you say art?”

Deidara narrowed his blue eyes at the groans echoing from each person in the room. You looked around and the others either had their heads in their hands or were rolling their eyes. “Quit it! You’re making me look bad in front of the lady.”

“You’re doing that all by yourself,” the redhead smirked. Deciding that you might be worth a glance, his dull brown eyes gave you a once-over. Unimpressed, he went straight back to work on his creepy doll.

“Oh, just can it, Sasori! No one asked you anyway, un,” Deidara mumbled as he picked up one of the dolls on the table in front of the other man. “I wouldn’t really call this art, though.”

Sasori took his time looking up at Deidara. The right side of his lips twitched into what you could only assume was a smile, although it was more akin to a snarl. Anger flushed his cheeks as he stood with his back straightened to an uncomfortable degree. His eyes didn’t linger for long, flickering over to you with a questioning look. His hands moved with grace and speed, piecing together the lifeless doll parts before displaying it in front of you. It was held together by something, but you couldn’t see what. Somehow, as it danced in front of you, it made you mournful. You didn’t like this puppet, not with its large bowl-shaped eyes. You weren’t sure what Sasori was asking of you as you continued to watch the figure move, but it made you wonder what type of person he was. What type of person would be more interested in playing with puppets than… well, anything else really. His eyes seemed to beg for someone to break the spell he was under and show him what happiness could be.

“Art is eternal, wouldn’t you say?”

Deidara chuckled, molding clay with swift finesse before throwing it in the middle of the room, “Art is an explosion!”

Once the words left his mouth, the room rumbled from the small explosion created by the homemade device. Dust filled the area as he looked quite pleased with himself. He looked to you for approval. An arsonist? What have I gotten myself into?

“Please refrain from blowing things up. If I have to pay for the damages one more time-“

“I shouldn’t have to defend my art, hm!” Deidara cut off the man who was still staring expressionless at his laptop. The two men near the window didn't flinch, continuing their juggling. Sasori continued to display his doll in front of you and the raven-haired man next to him shuffled his deck once more. No one seemed to think this was an out of the ordinary display except for you. If anything, they looked bored with the whole discussion. You wondered if this was a daily occurrence and if you should be concerned with the club’s morals.

You didn’t bother to ask what kind of magic the other members used as you backed up toward the door. Trying to make your escape look as natural as possible, you took small steps every few seconds and avoided any eye contact with the group.

“What are you doing?” The man with the intense violet eyes watched you as you flinched, shaking your head with a smile. All eyes turned to you, at last showing interest at the worst possible moment. “Are you leaving already?”

“Um, no. Well, yes. I forgot I have something… right now… have to attend,” You let your words trail off as he pushed himself off the wall, arms still crossed as he made his way over to your side, only stopping when he was within touching distance. You tried to push yourself further into the door, scrambling to find the knob.

“You didn’t ask me what type of magic I use. I feel hurt,” he pouted, his tongue dancing across the underside of his top lip in a clear attempt at seduction. It may have worked if it weren't for the threatening aura oozing from every pore of his toned body.

“Uh, what type of magic do you use?”

“The magic of the human figure,” he chuckled as he slipped out of his form-fitting turtleneck. The first thing you noticed was the thin, black material choker he wore against his neck. The second was his rippling abs that just wouldn't quit. Your eyes lingered longer than necessary as you attempted to imprint the image on your brain for future use. You noticed your mouth had fallen ajar as you continued to reach for the doorknob behind you.

“That- That is unique, but, like I said-”

You didn't finish the thought as you burst through the door. With a forced wave, you darted down the hallway. You resisted the urge to break into a sprint but didn't stop until you reached the guidance counselor's office.

“I need to change clubs.”

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this content! If you did, please consider liking, commenting, reblogging and/or following, and check out my masterlist for similar content. Have a great day!

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arvinsescape · 3 years

Text

Attention.

A/N: I’m back! Felt ready to post something, I’m not sure on a schedule yet but I’m going to try and start posting a few things again! Things are looking better at the minute and I’m in a better head space.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of smut.

W/C: 5.1K.

Your chest tightened the longer you sat there, glass of wine in your hand as you slouched in your chair. The tears you felt building behind your eyes burning your eyeballs as you blinked rapidly to hold them back. You knew he’d been distant recently, spending less time with you over the last couple of weeks but you hoped tonight that’d change, apparently not. You’d been sat here now for forty-five minutes waiting for Tom to show up and so far? Nothing.

The looks you were receiving from the waitress were beginning to annoy you, you hated pity, you really did. She knew who you were and who you were waiting for, she’d served you many times before in this restaurant, she was lovely and probably didn’t mean anything by her pitiful looks. You reached for the bottle of wine as you refilled your glass, the waitress making her way over.

“Are you ready to order?” She asked and you looked up at her with a sad smile receiving one in return.

“I’ll just take the bill please.” You said in defeat as she nodded in understanding and disappeared. You almost jumped in your seat as the one across from you scraped across the floor, Tom making an appearance.

“I’m so sorry darling, I got held up.” He said as he reached for your hand across the table, you gave him a tight-lipped smile and allowed him to place his hand over yours. Not wanting to cause a scene. “You look beautiful.” He said as he ran his thumb along the back of your hand and you smiled at him.

“Thank you.” You sighed out and he furrowed his brows.

“Are you okay?” He asked and you nodded. “You sure? I’m sorry I was fifteen minutes late baby.” Baby it made your heart flip in your chest, he hadn’t called you that in almost three weeks, it was always your favourite pet name he gave you. That and Princess had the ability to make you crumble at his feet but not right now, the ache in your chest intensifying.

“Forty-five.” You corrected quietly and his furrow deepened as the waitress returned, bill in hand. She looked almost as surprised as you had to see Tom sat across from you.

“Do you still want the bill?” She asked and before you could speak Tom interrupted.

“No, sorry to mess you around but I got my times mixed up. I think we’re good to eat now?” Tom asked you and you shrugged in response. Tom and the waitress both looking at you for a straight answer. You felt bad holding her up and messing her around, it was a busy night for her, you could see that.

“Yeah, we’re good. I’m sorry for messing you around.” You smiled apologetically and she smiled in response, dismissing your panic and taking Tom’s drinks order and yours for a second bottle of wine.

“Darling- “

“Don’t Tom, I’m not in the mood.” You interrupted and he nodded slightly in response, neither of you a fan of making a scene in public. “How was your day?” You asked as you took in a deep breath, ready to make this as civil as possible. Tom sensed it, he knew this was going to be short lived, the civility between the two of you would end as soon as you stepped foot through the door to your home.

“It was, yeah, it was good, nothing to report.” He shrugged and your anger brewed, he was late, got held up but didn’t have anything to report? “Yours?”

“Yeah, was good, busy day in the office but other than that it was fine.” You said with a small smile.

This continued on, the dinner being far from what you’d been hopeful for. You ate, made small talk, finished your drinks, paid the bill and walked home. It was cold on the walk home, your arms covered in goosebumps, silently cursing yourself for not bringing a jacket. You rubbed your hands along your arms to try and create friction and warm your cold arms.

“Here.” Tom said as he handed you his blazer, you were feeling stubborn, wanting to give him the cold shoulder.

“I’m good.” You said.

“Y/N,” he warned, he knew he was in the wrong, but that didn’t stop him worrying about you and being his usual protective self. “I know you’re angry with me and we’re gonna talk about it but you’re cold, please don’t be so stubborn, I don’t want you to get ill.” He said as he placed the blazer around your shoulders.

Your heart lifted as you became encased in his warmth, became encased in his scent you’d missed over the last couple of weeks. You pulled the blazer on properly, hands digging into the pockets to try and warm them up, it was working, slowly, nothing like when it was in Tom’s but that wasn’t an option right now. The feeling of dread hit you as you made your way up the driveway and into the house, the inevitable argument you were about to have settling in your chest.

You made your way into the living room, Tom following carefully behind as you took your heels off and greeted Tess, bag finding its way to the floor. You took in the living room, the TV in standby but the orange light of his PlayStation catching your eye. It was in rest mode, a sign he’d been on it before heading out to meet you and showed his intention of firing it back up when he returned. It made your blood boil, that’s why he was late.

“Darling..” he trailed off as he watched the realisation set in on your face.

“Were you late because you were gaming with the boys?” You asked and watched as Tom cringed at how awful it sounded.

“I swear I lost track of time.” He defended and you nodded as you walked passed him and into the kitchen. “Princess, I’m sorry.” He said as he followed you, your eyes moving to the calendar on the fridge. Your hand writing catching your eye, you had written the correct time, you’d reminded him that morning as well. “Y/N/N?” He asked carefully and you spun on your heel to look at him.

“You’re an arsehole.” You stated simply and he let out a sigh as he nodded.

“I know. I swear I thought you said half seven, not seven.”

“You would still have been late.”

“I lost track of time.”

“Thought you got caught up?” You fired back and his face fell.

“Come on, I’m trying here.”

“Really hard, I noticed.” You spat out sarcastically and you saw the flash of confusion behind his eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, I’m just used to it at the minute.” You shrugged as you walked passed him again and up the stairs, Tom hot on your heels.

“What?”

“It doesn’t matter, go back and play with the boys, I’m sure that was how you wanted this evening to turn out.” You said, voice far more stern than you’d expected considering the heart ache and tears that were starting to take over at the situation.

“I’m confused here, I know I was late today but I feel like I’m missing something else.” He said as you walked into the bathroom.

“Just me.” You mumbled out in hopes he wouldn’t hear you but he did. Your hand moving to the shower to turn it on and let it warm up.

“What?” He asked, a hint of anger to his tone.

“Nothing, just leave me alone.” You snapped.

“I don’t want to, you’re obviously upset with me and I want to know what’s going on.” He said, arms crossed over his chest.

“Makes a change.” You spat at him and his face turned to one of anger, you were both growing more and more irritated with one another.

“You gonna tell me what you mean by that? Or are we gonna continue with the riddles?” He asked, voice stern. Although he knew he’d fucked up, he hated when you got into one of these moods when you were either too angry or too upset to be straight with him.

“Can you just leave me alone while I shower?” You asked and he huffed before making his way out of the bathroom and you slammed the door shut, locking it for good measure. You needed to get your thoughts straight, pull yourself together and allow yourself to cry, you’d wanted to all evening.

You took your dress off throwing it into the basket as you undressed and got into the shower, letting the warm water raise your temperature, the walk home had left you cold. You let the tears fall as you let the heart ache set in, a part of you wondered if he didn’t know he was doing it, but then wouldn’t he miss you too? Wouldn’t he miss the closeness you’d not had for a couple of weeks.

Another, more insecure part of you wondered if he’d met someone else, he hadn’t touched you in a good few weeks, not in that way. It was unusual for you not to be all over each other, not when he was home, so it left you wondering if he just wasn’t interested anymore. It wasn’t that you hadn’t tried, you had, wearing things around the house that usually got him going but recently his eyes would flick from the TV and then back to it. The tears fell faster at the thought, you loved him, god you loved him more than you could bare at times.

You finished up your shower as you tried to compose yourself, letting the anger set in because you couldn’t focus on the heart ache right now. You’d just cry in front of him and you didn’t want to do that right now. You got changed into your pajama pants, they felt strange to wear because you barely wore them, a hoody was pulled over your head as you placed your hands into the pocket.

You made your way back into the living room where Tom was, the TV still off which surprised you. Tom’s head snapped in your direction, his eyebrows raised at your attire, it was unusual for him to see you in pajama pants, you usually wore them when you were ill and trying to cling to any warmth that you could. You couldn’t shift your thoughts from your head, the thought that he just wasn’t attracted to you anymore.

“Tom,” you let out in an almost pleading way, the anger you wanted to hold onto slipping. His eyes found yours and softened at the clear sadness and heart break in them. He moved carefully from the couch, making his way over to you, standing in front of you as you found his feet suddenly interesting.

“Hey,” he said as he placed a hand under your chin and tilted your face to look at him. Your eyes were red and rimmed with tears threatening to spill. “Talk to me.” He almost pleaded, voice soft.

“I” you started before a sob choked your throat. “I miss you.” You said as you fell into his chest and cried into it, your hands fisting his shirt as your tears stained it. One of his hands found your back whilst the other found your hair, massaging your scalp slowly.

“I’m right here princess.” He said as he stroked your hair. Your anger rose at that, he had no idea how distant he’d been.

“You haven’t been.” You said sternly as you pushed back from his chest and took a step back, his hands falling from your frame.

“What? I’ve literally been home for a month.” He said, confusion evident.

“Not really, your precious boys have been more important than me.” You spat, that anger you wanted to hold onto was back and you didn’t want to let go of it.

“What do you mean?”

“Your fucking PlayStation Tom. Your golf dates with them. Your complete lack of any sort of interest in me.” You shouted at him and he huffed, his own anger taking over.

“I think you’re being a little dramatic. I’ve been here, I’ve been with you. I miss the boys too you know.” He said, voice colder than you was expecting.

“I get that, I do.” You acknowledged. “But you don’t come to bed with me anymore, in fact you come to bed when I’ve fallen asleep these days. You fail to tell me when you’re going to play golf with the boys, I find out in the morning when you’re already set to go. I asked you to give me your sole attention tonight and you couldn’t, the boys coming first.”

“I have apologized for tonight, I don’t know what more you want. I’m sorry if you feel like I’ve been prioritizing the boys, I haven’t meant to.” He said that coldness still in his voice.

“It’s not just that. You’re dismissive, if you’re not online with the boys you’re playing some shite and that takes all your attention.” You said, you’d created a distance between the two of you, your arms now folded across your chest, mirroring him.

“So you want attention?” He spat out.

“Don’t patronize me.” You spat back as you pointed a finger at him. “You don’t call me anything other than my name at the moment, the last couple of hours have been rare in the past couple of weeks. You haven’t touched me.” You said, anger faltering slightly in the last sentence.

“What are you talking about? That’s not true. Not touched you? I distinctly remember you straddling my lap the other day.” He shouted at you.

“To try and get your attention Tom.” You said, anger falling from your voice. “To try and get you to notice I’m still here. We didn’t exactly do anything, you didn’t even turn your fucking console off. Tom, you haven’t slept with me in almost three weeks.”

“You know, if you wanted me to come off my console, you could’ve asked.”

“I shouldn’t have to.” You said sadly and his face fell, the anger was disappearing for the both of you now.

“Look, I’m sorry…” He started as you interrupted him, a question that had the room falling to silence.

“Is there someone else?” You voiced your insecurity, your true fear of why he was so distant. He’d been back a month, you’d slept together once and he barely made time for you, what if he had found someone whilst he was away. You knew he hadn’t cheated, he wouldn’t, you knew that but that didn’t mean he couldn’t become attracted to someone that wasn’t you.

“I haven’t cheated on you.” He said softly after a while, stepping towards you carefully.

“That wasn’t what I asked.” You said as the tears started again, your hand that was wrapped in the sleeve of your hoody coming to wipe at your face. It wasn’t long before Tom’s hand encased it and pulled it from your face, his eyes finding your own, the heartbreak in them was so evident you regretted ever asking the question.

“Baby, no. There isn’t anyone else, not for me. I would never, I couldn’t, you’re perfect princess.” He spoke and it was so honest that it pushed that insecurity way into the back of your mind again. “I’m sorry.” He spoke, your hands in his as a tear made its way down his face.

“I just want your attention Tom. Not all the time, I understand you miss the boys, I do. But I miss you too Tom, I didn’t say anything because I thought tonight would fix everything but it just made it worse.” You spoke more to yourself than him. “I just feel like you haven’t missed me half as much as I’ve missed you.” You finished and with that you took your hands from his and made your way upstairs, leaving Tom with his own thoughts.

You went into the bedroom, closing and locking the door as you made your way into bed, pulling the covers over your frame as you cried into your pillow. It was almost half an hour later when you heard Tom try the door, you could almost imagine his face when he realised it was locked, this wasn’t something you’d done even in your worst shouting matches.

“Baby,” he called and you heard his forehead make contact with the wood of the door. “Can you open the door for me? I just wanna hold you, I’m so sorry.” You heard the sadness in his voice, the pure heart break with himself.

“Tom, I just wanna be on my own right now.” You said, it felt contradictory to the argument you’d had but you just wanted to be by yourself at the minute.

“Okay, you know where I am if you need me.” You heard him sigh as he disappeared. It took a while but eventually sleep took over.

You woke up to an alarm blaring and Tess barking furiously, it startled you awake as you bolted out of bed, unlocked the door and flew down the stairs. You had to stifle a laugh as you took in the sight in the kitchen, Tom was batting a tea towel across the fire alarm as Tess barked and ran in circles around his feet.

You quickly made your way over to the kitchen door, opening it as Tess shot out, you made your way to the window and opened those too. Tom looked at you with an embarrassed smile gracing his lips as the smoke made its way from the kitchen and outside.

“Sorry.” He said once the alarm had stopped blaring. You laughed as you looked around the kitchen, it looked as though a bomb had gone off.

“What were you doing?” You asked amused.

“Making you breakfast.” He said shyly as he bit his lip.

“That was never gonna be a good idea, unless it was cold.” You teased and he laughed, it was no secret he wasn’t the best cook in the house.

“I’m sorry, I was just, I don’t know.” He concluded as he watched you begin to clean the kitchen. “I didn’t mean to wake you up so abruptly either.”

“It’s okay.” Your heart warmed, you know what he was trying to do and it felt like a small step in the right direction. “I know what you were trying to do.” You said as you made your way in front of him and kissed his cheek. “I appreciate it.” The atmosphere was way better than last night but there was still a sadness in the air.

“You locked me out.” Tom said, voice laced in nothing other than sadness, you felt guilty but you needed to be alone last night.

“I know, I’m sorry. I just, I needed to be alone.” You said, hand on his cheek as you swiped your thumb over it. He nodded, his hand finding your hip as he squeezed it slightly.

“I get it. I’m sorry.” He said as he carefully leant forward and caught your lips in his own, you smiled into the kiss, it felt nice to have everything out in the open, a weight lifted. “I love you.” He murmured as he pulled back, forehead resting against your own.

“I love you.” You smiled before taking a deep breath and looking around the kitchen, lightly patting his cheek with your hand. “We should clean this place up.” You laughed and he nodded.

Almost twenty minutes later and the kitchen looked normal again, your laughs filling the kitchen as you tried to work out how he’d done half of the things he’d done.

“Do you wanna go and grab something instead? I don’t think I should try cooking again.” Tom teased and you grinned.

“I’d love to.” You said as you made your way back upstairs to get changed, Tom joining you.

“I’m sorry.” He said and you looked at him, ready to respond before his phone rang. “Hey mate.” Tom said as he placed the phone against his ear, you busied yourself with fixing your hair. “Not today.” He said, you knew he was talking to one of the boys and your heart hammered in your chest, was he gonna ditch you for them again? “Taking Y/N/N out.” He said, happiness lacing his tone. “Maybe mate, I’ll see what she wants to do.” He said, phone between his ear and shoulder as he fixed his belt.

“Been a bit of a shit boyfriend recently.” Tom said and you heard the laugh that filled the speakers, Harrison. “Shh.” You suddenly heard Tom interrupt his friend, “she’s literally right here.” He said and you felt your chest tighten, what could Harrison have to say that you couldn’t maybe overhear? “I will, cheers mate, bye.” Tom said as he put the phone down and placed it in his pocket, you shook your thoughts away as your eyes met his in the mirror. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” You said as he held his hand out for you and you took it as he interlaced your fingers.

You made your way towards your local café, a place you absolutely loved and Tom found endearing, a lovely old lady ran it and it was cheap and cheerful. A stark contrast to the usual places you and Tom would eat, but you loved it here.

“Y/N.” Mary said as you both walked through the door, a warm smile on her face. “You brought Tom too, I feel underdressed for an A-list celebrity to be here.” She said and you giggled.

“You know he doesn’t care.” You said as you hugged her, she was like a grandmother to almost everyone who stepped through the door.

“Thank you by the way, my grandson was over the moon when I took him your autograph.” She said to Tom who smiled, a small blush creeping up his cheeks, he may have been famous but he was forever humble.

You ate your usual and drank your coffee as Tom focused his attention on making you laugh. It worked as he placed some icing sugar on your nose that was on the tip of his finger. You shook your head as you wiped your nose with a laugh. You’d really missed him over the last couple of weeks and you couldn’t be more thankful you’d finally said something last night.

“Tom, I’ve told you before, you don’t need to tip me so much.” Mary said as she watched Tom place a ten-pound note in her tip jar.

“The service was exceptional as always.” Tom shrugged as he placed a kiss to her cheek in goodbye. He used to tip a lot more but Mary had in return started not charging for the two of you to come in, the ten-pound tip seemed like the most she’d accept without throwing in freebies.

“You are a charmer Mr Holland.” She smiled as she hugged you.

“Is he?” You teased and Mary laughed.

“He is, however, he’s lucky to have you.” She smiled as she pinched your cheek. “About time he got down on one knee.” Mary teased and you saw Tom tense slightly, your heart sinking at his reaction, was that not something he wanted?

“Don’t scare the poor boy.” You teased, trying to lighten the mood in your heart.

“Not scared.” Tom said with a smile as he took your hand in his and laced your fingers together.

You had an amazing day, went for a walk and talked to each other, it felt nice, normal. You still had a heavy feeling in your heart, thoughts of what Harrison had said that had caused him to quieten him so quickly invading your mind. You tried your best to shrug it off, it could be anything, your insecurities getting the better of you. You were cuddling on the couch watching a film when he suddenly got up.

“Where are you going?” You asked.

“I’ll be back in a minute.” He waved off as he made his way out of the room.

It wasn’t long before he placed himself next to you, envelope in his hand. You furrowed your brows as he handed it to you.

“I know I’m a few days early but here.” He said and you opened the envelope, pulling out two tickets to the Maldives.

“Tom, what?”

“Happy birthday.” He said as he kissed your cheek and you smiled, looking at the date on your ticket, you were set to go on your birthday, a ridiculously early flight time stamped on the ticket. “I know how much you love it there and I wanted to get you something nice.” Tom said and you smiled at him.

“Nice is a bottle of perfume. Tom, this is so expensive.” You scalded and he laughed as he pulled you into his chest.

“Nothing’s too expensive when it comes to you.”

“You cheesy fucker.” You laughed as you kissed his t shirt covered chest. “Thank you. Is that the surprise Harrison wasn’t supposed to ruin?” You asked and Tom laughed.

“Yeah.” Tom lied through his teeth, the actual surprise was currently in his office drawer. The black box hidden beneath scripts he’d been reading over. He was glad that you hadn’t asked about his golf trip last week, it was never a golf trip in the first place, he’d gone to your parents to ask permission, Harry promising to cover if you asked if they’d been together.

“It’s gorgeous.” You said as you sat on the decking outside your hut, feet in the clear water below. Tom sat next to you, taking your hand in his.

“Yeah, it is.” He agreed as he played with your fingers. “That’s why I was so caught up with the boys, I wanted to make sure this trip was perfect, we were running through ideas.” Tom suddenly said and you turned to look at him.

“How much planning can one holiday take?” You teased and he shrugged as he placed a kiss to the back of your hand.

“You know me.” He said and you laughed. “The lack of sex though, there was no excuse for that, I’m sorry. My mind was elsewhere.” He said with a small smile and you placed your free hand on his chest as you laid your head on his shoulder.

“It’s okay, you’ve made up for that.” You bit your lip, your legs still aching from the activities that had taken place no less than ten minutes ago. Your thighs, neck and chest covered in marks he’d left, you bit your lip thinking about it as you removed your hand from his chest and traced the marks on your thighs.

“I suppose I should let you in on a little secret.” He said and you furrowed your brows looking up at him. He smiled before standing and bringing you with him. “I’ve been distant because I’ve been planning something.” He said, both of your hands in his. You gasped as he got down on one knee in front of you. “I wanted it to be perfect.” He said as he fished around in his pocket. He pulled the black box from them.

“Tom.” You gasped, heart soaring, you were at a loss for words.

“When you asked me the other day if there was someone else, I was so heart broken. Princess, I’m sorry, I’ve been so stressed about asking you this question, so scared I’ll get it wrong that it sort of took over. I love you more than anything, you are the only woman I’m interested in, I’ve never in my life felt more at home than I do when I’m with you. I have never met someone who understands me the way you do, who’s as supportive as you are. I want to give you everything you deserve and more, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Y/N L/N, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?” He asked and you were both crying, both letting happiness consume you as he opened the box.

The ring was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen, it was all too much, the happiness you felt was too much and you fell onto your knees in front of him, hands grasping his back as you pulled him into you. Head finding his shoulder as you cried into it. He held you close as he too cried into your hair.

You pulled back after a while, looking into his eyes and you swear you couldn’t be happier. That’s what Harrison had mentioned that he didn’t want you to hear, that’s why he tensed in the café, he was probably worrying you’d mention you didn’t want that.

“You gonna keep me hanging?” Tom asked as he wiped at your eyes. It dawned on you that you hadn’t given him an answer.

“Of course I’ll marry you.” You said and he released a breath he’d clearly been holding. He took the ring and slipped it onto your finger, the sun catching it and making it sparkle in the most brilliant way.

He lifted you both to your feet, hand finding your cheek as he pulled you in for a kiss, your hand slipping into his hair as your other held his bicep. He deepened this kiss as he slipped his hand to cup your neck, his other finding the curve of your bum as he squeezed. You giggled as you pulled back slightly.

“Wanna go for a swim?” You asked and he raised a brow.

“Right now?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged and he laughed.

“Okay darling.” He said as he stepped back slightly, he was so close to the edge of the decking that you couldn’t help it. You bit your lip mischievously as you placed your hands on his chest, he looked down at you and his eyes widened, he was too late to act as you pushed against his chest. He lost balance but not before grasping your hands which meant you fell with him, both your bodies hitting the water which made for a large and loud splash.

You both resurfaced, your body gravitating towards his own as you wrapped your legs around his waist, arms loosely hanging from his shoulders. His hands finding your thighs, your hands making their way into his now wet hair, he smiled up at you and pulled you in for a kiss.

“I love you.” You both said in unison, pure happiness filling both of your hearts.

#tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine

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themayforce · 3 years

Text

Pretty in Pink - Part 2

Link to part 1

Summary: After the events down on the planet, you're not sure how to talk to Rex about it. But luckily, Fives and Echo are here to help.

Description: Things get steamy again in this one. Afab!Reader (no gendered language), foursome, double (or i guess triple) penetration (in both holes), unprotected sex (wrap it up fellas), some degradation, and a little bit of spanking

Rating: 18+ explicit

Pairings: Rex+Fives+Echo/Reader

Words: 7481 (literally i only just found out about this word count and uhhhh i don't know how this happened)

There aren’t enough hours in a day for all the work you have to get done. Since getting back to Coruscant, it's like you've been stuck in an endless meeting with every possible senator, advisor, administrator, or whatever title these politicians had chosen to use. The first few meetings had been important, but soon you had no real part in the discussions anymore and you just watched from the back of the room, exhausted.

It doesn't help that events from a certain planet keep replaying in your mind like a holovid stuck on a loop, glitching and catching on moments and phrases you should not be thinking about in the middle of a meeting room. The heat in your face and your anxiety about it make you even more tired, and after a week of these negotiations you're very glad when you can finally get home before dark for once.

The lights in your apartment automatically switch on when you open the door. The soft pink and orange hues from the sunset outside drape over your living room like a blanket and you spend a few minutes just looking out the window, admiring the view over the city, something you didn’t take as much time for as you should.

No matter how hard you try, it’s impossible to empty your mind these days. Your little … adventure with your three clone friends left its marks on you, both emotionally and physically. They’re fading now, but every time you see yourself in the mirror before showering they jump out at you: two rows of bruises on either side of your hips, unmistakably finger shaped. Rex’s handiwork. And the worst part is that it turns you on more than you’d ever care to admit.

You haven’t spoken to Rex at all since flying back on the shuttle. He had been in two of the same meetings as you, sure, but only awkward glances were exchanged, no words. It bothers you, having these feelings fester inside you, but you have no idea how to approach the subject. If you send him a comlink message, what are you even supposed to say? ‘Hey Captain, I think we should discuss how you fucked my kriffing brains out and then pretended it never happened?’

The day after you got back, Fives and Echo had been waiting for you after your checkup in the medbay, bless their hearts. You had all agreed to leave out the specifics of what had happened in your official reports, but a warning had been attached to that planet’s datalog. Avoid the pink flowers: toxic to most humanoids. With those two guys, you can laugh about it now, and you’re grateful for it. Fives seems more relaxed around you, more open. You haven’t forgotten that he called you beautiful, that he held your hand and brushed the hair out of your face. You see the way he looks at you, and it melts you, the way a hot cup of caf on a cold day does. But you just can’t seem to examine your feelings about Fives, not while Rex’s fire burns inside you so vigorously.

If you don’t talk to him soon, you probably never will, and you’re not sure you can take that. You get a glass of water from the kitchen and down it in one go before laying down on your couch, comlink in hand.

Should you call him? Leave him a holo message? Or just a text message? He’s probably very busy, probably doesn’t even have time to meet with you, but there’s no way you can talk it out over the com. The little device feels heavy in your hand as you type out the message ‘Can we talk?’, and your thumb hovers over the send button. What if he says no? Or just doesn’t reply? What if he’s trying to forget what happened, and bringing it up will just anger him? But he’d called you perfect, had fucked you like a man possessed. You look like such a good little whore. Those words won’t stop echoing in your mind.

You press your face into a throw pillow and groan. “Stupid clones,” you mutter to yourself. “Stupid, sexy clones.”

It’s only when the buzzer to your front door wakes you up that you notice you had dozed off in the first place. Quickly, you smooth out your clothes and flip the throw pillow over with the drool-stained side down. You're not expecting any guests -- you were too tired to make plans this week -- so you're frowning when you open the door.

Your frown turns into a surprised smile when you see Fives and Echo standing in front of you. Their helmets are tucked under their arm, and Fives is holding a bottle of something that looks like alcohol, while Echo has a plain white box in his hands.

"Hey there, sunshine," Fives says with a sheepish grin that nestles itself in your heart.

"Guys! What's all this?"

“Hope this isn’t a bad time,” Fives starts, but Echo interrupts him.

“Fives wanted to-” A sharp look from his friend makes him rephrase his sentence. “Fives and I wanted to check up on you.”

“We saw you in one of the meeting rooms today, and you looked tired, so- oh, not that you look bad, you still look great, just-” You laugh, and that puts Fives at ease. He smiles back at you.

“You’re really too sweet. Please, come in.”

You step aside to let your friends into your home, both of them still wearing their armor. They must have come here right after their shift, and it warms your heart that they chose to see you instead of getting their well-earned rest.

“Brought you something,” Fives says, handing you the bottle he’s holding. “Thought you might like a drink.” It‘s a familiar bottle to you, the most common type of Corellian Red on the market, and one of your favorites, which Fives remembered.

“Aw, you shouldn’t have. But you’re absolutely right. I could really use a drink.”

Echo’s white box happens to be the best kind of box: a cake box, and time flies by while the three of you eat cake and empty the wine bottle. It’s nice, really nice, to just hang out like this. Despite the unspoken truth between you and Fives, it doesn’t feel awkward -- instead it draws something giddy and flirtatious out of you, though that may be in part due to the wine. One third of a bottle isn’t enough to get you drunk, but it’s definitely enough to get you tipsy, and soon enough you have your legs in Fives’ lap on the couch. He rubs circles on your calves with his thumb. He blushes. Echo laughs. The whole thing is adorable.

For the second time tonight, the buzzer of the front door interrupts you. This time, aided by the buzz of alcohol, you’re a lot more relaxed as you make your way across the room, glass in hand. There’s music playing from a concert on your holoscreen -- you don’t know the song or the singer, but the rhythm puts a spring in your step and there’s a smile on your face when you open the door.

Your expression shifts to one of open-mouthed confusion when you are met with another set of blue and white plastoid armor, worn by the man you so desperately wanted to talk to earlier today. And that's not all -- clutched in Rex's hands is a beautiful bouquet of yellow and white flowers, perfectly arranged like it's come straight out of a holo-ad for one of those high-end florists from Naboo.

You're speechless. Absolutely floored. Not just by the fact that Captain Rex brought you flowers, but that he decided to do this now, tonight, after ignoring you for over a week and- oh no. Did you accidentally send that comlink message? Is that why he's here? You would never even have considered sending it if you knew you'd have company tonight, but Rex doesn't know that and now he's here and so are Fives and Echo and every possible explanation you can give will bring trouble.

Blood rushes to your head as you try to think of something to say, but Fives and Echo beat you to it.

"Captain!" they exclaim in almost perfect unison while they jump up from their seats.

"Captain…" you repeat, at a loss for any other words. "I- I wasn't expecting-" You can't finish your sentence. Rex looks like he's going through all stages of grief simultaneously -- jaw tightening, brows furrowing, while his gaze darts between you and the clones behind you.

"I'll come back another time."

“No!” you say before you can stop yourself, “I mean, you’re welcome to come have a drink?” It’s embarrassing, the sheepish way you’re smiling at him, but he did just bring you flowers.

“Are those for me?” you ask, gesturing at the bouquet. Rex looks at the flowers like he had temporarily forgotten he was holding them, then hands them over to you.

“Yes. I hope you uh,” he hesitates, “are feeling better.”

“I am, thank you.”

This is unbearable. You want to scream, to either pull him inside or slam the door in his face, anything to make this painful situation end. You can feel Fives’ eyes burn into you from behind you, knowing that you have to explain why his kriffing Captain is bringing you flowers, when you can’t even explain it to yourself.

“So do you w-” you begin to invite Rex inside, pointing your thumb towards the living room, but he starts speaking at the same time.

“I’ll talk to you later. Goodnight. Troopers.”

With a curt nod and a sharp turn, he marches down the walkway, away from you.

You rush over to the low table next to your couch where you left your comlink and after you lay the bouquet down you check your message history. The words ‘Can we talk’ are still blinking up at you from the bottom of the display, unsent. The whole thing was a kriffing coincidence.

“So,” Echo says, pressing a button on the holoscreen to mute it, “what just happened?”

You groan as you let yourself drop down on the couch. Fives sits back down next to you, but his posture isn’t as relaxed as it was a few minutes ago.

“I don’t know if I should talk about it,” you say softly, burying your face in your hands.

"He …" Fives sighs deeply and turns his body towards you. "He also got involved back on that planet, didn't he?"

You nod without looking up. No point in lying about it now, and besides, it was Rex who decided to be weird about the whole thing.

"Said so, didn't I?" Echo says.

"Kriff, yeah, you were right. I really must've slept through it."

Now you sit up, bouncing your gaze between the two of them. “You knew?” you ask, confused.

“Not for sure,” Echo replies, “I stepped away for half an hour or so to fix the transmitter. But something was different about the Captain when I got back.”

Yeah, you could say that. It would’ve been a lot easier if he hadn’t been so secretive about the whole thing.

"I wanted to talk to him about it, but I thought he was avoiding me… Well, until-"

"Until he showed up unannounced at your apartment with flowers," Fives interrupts. There’s a small grin on his face as he shakes his head. "Stars, he's hopeless. We should give him some pointers."

Pointers? He wants Rex to be, what? Better at courting you?

“Wait… I thought-”

“I’d be jealous? Eh, a little, I can’t deny that. But one thing you need to know about clones,” Fives says with a knowing look to Echo, “is that we’re very good at sharing.”

His words make your face burn, your cheeks feel like the twin suns of Tatooine with how hot they are, and your breath hitches in your throat.

Echo chuckles at your reaction and moves to sit down on the couch as well. Stars, why was it making you so flustered to be sandwiched between the two of them?

“Fives was right. You really are cute when you get nervous.”

“I’m always right,” Fives jokes in return, “but more importantly…” He leans over and gently presses his thumb and index finger against your chin, turning your head to look at him. “Would you like that, sunshine? The three of us sharing you?” His thumb now grazes over your bottom lip. If he keeps this up, you might forget how to speak. Or forget your own kriffing name.

“Y-yes,” you whisper.

“Good.” He holds your gaze lovingly, his eyes darting down to your bottom lip. You’re hoping he might kiss you, but then he takes his hand away and smiles slightly.

“Better ask the Captain to come back, then.”

You fumble with your comlink and almost drop it while you type your new message to Rex. ‘Please come back. We want to talk to you.’ That’s the line you all agreed upon.

“While we wait…” Echo leans closer to you and lowers his voice. “Fives here never shuts up about wanting to kiss you.”

“Echo!” Fives hisses, embarrassed.

“Sooo,” you say, turning to him with a bashful grin, “what are you waiting for, then?”

Fives blinks a few times, and then with one swooping motion he pulls you into his lap, and puts his mouth to yours. His lips are sweet from the cake and the wine, his hands warm as he holds onto your waist. He’s firm and soft at the same time and it’s perfect -- until you move slightly and part of his armor pinches your skin, making you wince.

“Okay, you better take this off now,” you say, tapping one of his thigh plates with your fingernail, “or someone’s gonna get hurt.”

“That a promise?” Fives mutters against your cheek, making you giggle.

It’s touching how much care they put in taking off their armor. Just by watching them undress you can tell how important it is to them, almost sacred. They put every piece neatly on top of the other in the same way, like they were taught precisely how. Soon they stand before you in their tight black underclothes, still completely covered, but softer to the touch. The stretchy fabric doesn’t hide much. In fact, it accentuates the shape of their muscles and, well, other parts. You chew on your lip while you watch them move closer to you.

“Your turn, sunshine,” Fives states. “Let’s give the Captain a little surprise when we open the door for him.”

A small whine escapes your lips when you process his words, but you gladly oblige. As soon as you stand up from the couch, they’re on either side of you, so close it’s almost dizzying. They help you undo the clasps on your outfit and soon enough, you’re left only in your underclothes. Nothing fancy -- it was supposed to just be a regular work day when you got dressed this morning -- but at least it was a matching pair. Fives can’t seem to help himself and nuzzles his face into your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses that send shivers down your spine and he makes his way back up past your jaw, until he captures your mouth again. His second kiss is more intense, deeper, hotter, and as his tongue moves against yours, you feel the wetness between your thighs increasing. While Fives kisses you, Echo runs his fingers down your breastbone softly, before brushing them over your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra. He’s gentle, like he doesn’t want to distract you from Fives’ kiss, but it still makes you shiver, the hairs on your arms standing up with the thrill of it.

And then, the buzzer again. When Echo goes to open the door, you instinctively want to turn around, too shy to face Rex in your state of undress, but Fives holds you with your back to his chest and his hands on your shoulders, rubbing them softly. He presses a kiss to your temple.

When the door swings open, your eyes meet Rex’s almost instantly.

"What's going on?" Rex asks, but his voice isn't demanding. Quite the opposite, there's almost a quiver in it as his gaze moves over your body, then quickly away again.

Echo leads him into the room by the back of his arm and smirks.

"Well, Captain, Fives and I have a little … gift for you, if you want to join us."

"We know you got involved, sir. With the toxin situation. No need to be ashamed. In fact, I think we can all benefit from this situation." Fives’ mouth comes up right next to your ear and you can feel the tickle of his goatee. "Why don't you tell him what you told us?" Fives whispers to you. Kriff, he wants you to proposition Rex? Out loud?

"I-I… well…" Alright, breathe, you can do this. You know what you want.

"I want… I want all three of you."

Rex’s eyes seem to darken, his posture heavy when he walks over to you. Fives lets go of you now, taking a step back to give the two of you more space.

"Stars," Rex breathes, "y-you're sure?"

"I'm sure." To help ease his doubts, you trace a path up his armor with your hands, resting your arms around his neck, and kiss him. He seems frozen for a second against your lips, but then he returns your kiss eagerly, warm hands grazing over your hips. When he touches you, his breath hitches, remembering you are near-naked in front of him. He breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against yours.

“I felt- I thought I had taken advantage of you. You were so vulnerable, and I was- I couldn’t control myself, I was too rough-”

"Look," you say softly, turning around to show him the remnants of your bruises.

"Is that- did I do that? Kriff, I didn't intend to-"

You interrupt him. "You can do it again, if you want. Keep doing it, so they never fade.”

Rex swallows, but before he can reply you come up with a new idea.

"I want to thank the three of you for saving my life," you say, and you can't help the shy smile that graces your face as you unclasp your bra, shaking it off and revealing your breasts. You take Fives and Rex by the hand and look Echo in the eye sweetly as you lead the three of them to your bedroom.

"There's no need-" Fives interrupts, but you shush him with a finger to his lips.

"I'm going to thank you," you say more firmly this time. You press a quick kiss to his lips before sinking to your knees before him, your eyes lining up with the visible hard-on under his clothes. Your fingers find the waistband of his black compression pants and his briefs below them.

"Oh, stars, sunshine-" His words catch in his throat when you peel the fabric down, revealing his bare cock to you, exactly the way you remembered it. Fuck, you'd fantasized about this late at night, pushing your own fingers into your mouth, imagining how much their cocks might fill you. You can't help but lick your lips before gently wrapping your hand around the base, drawing soft curses from Fives' lips. Your tongue finds the head of his cock, giving it a few kitten licks before letting your lips wrap around it. You hum contentedly as you let him enter further into your mouth, gently licking and sucking and reeling with pride whenever you draw a noise out of him. When you take him in as far as you can go without gagging, you feel his hand coming to rest on top of your head and you let him guide your pace.

"Fuck, your mouth feels amazing, sweetheart. You- you wanna show the other guys what you can do too?"

You whine when he takes his cock out of your mouth, but then you realize he meant show them right now, at the same time, because both Rex and Echo have taken their compression pants off (and Rex his armor, too) and you're greeted by two more of their cocks, hard and leaking and so close to your face.

"My lucky day," you joke, but your heart is beating fast with the knowledge you haven't exactly done this before. You just hope you can give all of them the attention they deserve.

Rex stands closest to you, and his cock twitches as you reach to hold it. His hips jerk forward when you press your tongue flat against the underside, tracing a vein that runs all the way along it. Just like Fives, he reaches for your head -- when you take one of his balls into your mouth and suckle on it softly, his fingers tighten their grip into your hair, his breath hitching with every stroke of your hand along his cock. After you give the other ball some attention, you move back to his cock, bobbing your head along it gently until he suddenly thrusts forward, hitting the back of your throat, making you gag.

"Kriff, sorry-"

But you persevere, spurred on to try and take him even deeper even with tears forming in your eyes. The sounds of you struggling to take him down your throat are joined with the sounds of Fives and Echo stroking their own cocks lazily on either side of you. It's lewd, but deliciously so, and your cunt throbs knowing that it's the sight of you that's turning them on.

You swallow around Rex's cock and he curses again, pulling himself out of your mouth.

"I won't l-last long if you keep that up, beautiful," he says, wiping some saliva mixed with precum away from your chin. Your stomach flutters at the pet name, a silly youngling feeling that feels unfitting to the current situation, but you find yourself wanting to hear it again and again.

Instead you turn again to take care of Echo, who seems to be enjoying himself -- his hand is wrapped tightly around the base of his cock and he smiles down at you.

"Your turn, mister," you tease, and a small chuckle escapes his throat.

"Stars, baby, you’re so cute."

Smiling, you lick up the sizable drop of precum that has formed at the head of his cock, drawing small circles around the opening with your tongue. Then much like before, you try to fit as much of him inside you as possible until you gag again -- the unpleasant feeling is somehow unbearably arousing to you, just knowing that his cock is so big, knowing your throat and jaw will hurt after, it sends lightning straight down between your legs.

"Look at me, baby," Echo coos fondly, "that's right, you like my cock, don't you, pretty eyes?"

You nod weakly, turning your attention back to the rhythm you had found while hollowing out your cheeks, when he pulls out of your mouth.

"Gotta keep it fair," he says with a grin while you feel a pair of hands turning you around again.

You service the three of them like this for a while, switching between their cocks while using your hands on the others. You must be an obscene sight, lips swollen and plump, saliva dribbling down your chin, and with every passing minute you're grinding your hips more and more, rubbing your legs together to find pleasure.

"Getting needy, aren't you, sunshine?" Fives teases, his voice raspy as you stroke his cock which is now slippery and shiny with precum and your spit. You hum around Rex, who has gotten to the point where he's thrusting shallowly into your mouth. Your gag reflex seems to have been conquered for the time being. They do say practise makes perfect.

It's Rex who comes first with a groan, his cum filling your throat while he holds your head in place, your nose grazing the hairs around the base of his cock.

"Fuck," Fives says, his hand finding the back of your head, "open your mouth, sweetheart, that's it." You swallow as much of Rex's cum as you can in one go, then open your mouth wide, tongue sticking out. Rex lines himself up with your tongue, pumping his own cock in quick hard motions. He cums with a low, rumbling sigh and his release ends up mostly on your tongue, with some of it on your nose and cheek. Before you realize it, you hear Echo curse beside you and he also finishes, his cum landing on your face and chest, like a marking you're all too happy to wear.

The three of them seem pretty out of breath, and Rex sits down on your bed with a sigh. "Stars," he breathes, pulling the high collar of his shirt away from his neck to let in some cool air. "That was some kind of thank you."

It makes you giggle. He seems more at ease now, having been convinced by the benefits of this arrangement.

Seeing the three of them panting and sweating in your bedroom sends another molten shot of arousal straight to your cunt and you realize your underwear must be soaked by now.

Fives must have realized you were rubbing your legs together, a teasing edge appearing in his voice. "I think you enjoyed that just as much as we did, didn't you? Did that get you wet?"

"Mhm," you admit coyly, "very."

"I think we should do something about that."

With a yelp from you, Fives pulls you up off the floor with ease and you crash into his chest with his nose pressed into your hair.

"Why don't you lie down and let us take care of you?"

Your face turns hot and your cunt throbs with anticipation at his words. But there's one thing that needs to happen first. All of them are still a lot more dressed than you are.

"Shirts off first, all of you," you say with a grin, which they all return.

"Yes, general," Echo jokes, peeling his sweat-soaked undershirt over his head. Now all of them are naked before you, and you can see the differences in their bodies. Echo, despite being the lithest of the three, has the most defined musculature. Fives is slightly broader in the shoulders but narrower at the hips, and seemed to have a little bit of an edge in the body hair department. Rex is the broadest overall, and also the most scarred, with gashes and blaster burns all over his chest, arms, and back. All three of them are beautiful, perfect, and somehow in your bed.

You get comfortable on the mattress, back propped up against a pillow. Surprisingly, it's Rex who finds his way over to you first, the mattress dipping under his knees. He puts his hands (big, warm, calloused) on your knees and spreads your legs so he can get between them.

"B-been wanting to taste you for so long," he says, his voice a dark rumble that strikes you in your core.

"You better take what you want then, Captain." You're not sure where the daring edge in your tone comes from, but after just making three men come with just your hands and mouth, some confidence has gathered in your chest.

Rex slides your underwear off and spreads your lower lips with his thumbs, and you can hear him suck in a breath. Fives sits down on the bed next to you and chuckles.

"Naughty, so wet from sucking dick." You give him a playful nudge which turns into a desperate grasp the moment Rex starts licking your slit in long lines, his tongue putting pressure on your clit repeatedly.

"Oh, fuckkkk-" you moan, your head falling back onto Fives' shoulder. Echo has now sat down on the other side of you and has taken it upon himself to lazily stroke and pinch at your nipples, the small licks of pain making you whine louder. Rex's pace is relentless, not gentle at all, and you find yourself on the edge much sooner than expected. Your nails dig into Fives' arm when Rex adds his fingers into the mix, pumping them in and out and curving them to hit the perfect spot while he sucks hard on your clit until you see-

"Stars!" you cry out, your hips lifting themselves off the bed as you buck into his tongue, your first orgasm of the night hitting you hard and deep. Rex keeps his tongue pushed against you for a while longer, until you come down from your high, slumping back down into the mattress with your breathing heavy and your skin shiny.

"Didn't know you knew how to do that, Captain," Echo jokes, still playing with your tits almost absentmindedly.

Rex wipes some of your slick off his face with the back of his hand and grins. "There's a lot you don't know about me."

When he sits back up, you can't help but notice he's well on his way to being hard again -- so are the others. There's a glimmer of pride in your chest at the moan Fives lets out when you wrap your hands around his cock again. You roll over, knees tucked under you, and bend down to wrap your lips around him again. In this position, you realize your ass is up in the air at an inviting angle, and you spread your knees a little further apart to give the man behind you a good view. It works, because it only takes a few seconds for Rex to grab your ass roughly with both his hands. His fingers line up with the bruises he left there before, and you hope he remembered your plea for their renewal.

"Look at you… you need a cock to fill you up, don't you, sweetheart?”

You hum around Fives’ cock in response, who fists his hand in your hair.

“Or maybe…” Rex’s voice is dark and rumbling, a sound that goes straight to your cunt, but that’s not where he touches you next. His thumb brushes over your exposed asshole and you stop moving your hips instantly in surprise. "... more than one? Think you could do that for us?"

You let Fives' cock slide out of your mouth to reply, spit and precum leaving a stringy trail between you. "Yes, please, I'll be so good for you," you whine, wanting nothing more than precisely that, to be good, to be of use to them, to make them feel good because they deserve it, and you're giddy and proud that they want this from you and no one else.

There's a bottle of oil in your nightstand for occasions like these -- a gift from a friend months ago who swears by this brand, but you hadn't gotten much use out of it yet. After all his nervousness earlier, you were surprised Rex took charge now, although you suppose he had just needed some time to settle into this commanding role that seemed to come so naturally to him in everyday life. The three of them briefly discuss among themselves how they should take you, but you have a hard time paying attention to the specifics. You bite your lip at the thought of the three of them filling all of you, and you can't help but sneak your hand between your legs to put some pressure onto your throbbing clit.

"Uh-uh," Fives tuts at you with a crooked smile, "none of that, now." He grabs the offending hand first and then the other so you can't touch yourself anymore. He laughs when you pout, and it makes you want to kiss the corners of his mouth. "C'mere," he says, pulling you forward to straddle his lap, his erection pressed between your bellies. It feels good, being this close to him, your skin against his. His smirk is still there and so you do steal a kiss, softly rutting against him just to feel him moan into your mouth. "How about the two of us stay like this," he says in your ear, pulling you tighter towards him with a hand on your lower back, "and I get to see your pretty little face while the other guys fuck your ass, hm?" Oh stars above, nothing coherent can leave your mouth in response to that. You press your face into the crook of Fives' neck and whine a breathy please that makes him chuckle. "Alright then sunshine, up you get." His strong hands lift you upwards so you can position yourself over his cock. Like it's the best thing he's ever felt, his eyes flutter closed when you sink down onto him, giving an experimental roll of your hips that tightens his grip on your waist.

"Fuck, I forgot how fucking hot your pussy is," he groans, and you can tell he's exerting some self control not to start fucking your brains out right away. You feel another warm hand on your back and turn to catch a glimpse of Echo.

"Yeah, Fives, you do know how to pick 'em," he jokes softly, but there's something different about him -- out of the three of them, you keep feeling like Echo might not have been attracted to you as much, like he might be happier with some girl from 79's, but now… You wonder if he reeled his feelings in so he wouldn't hurt his friend-- no, maybe that was just your vanity talking. Regardless, you pull Echo in for a short kiss while slowly starting to move with Fives inside you.

The sound of the glass bottle opening behind you gives you goosebumps. Rex's silence feels like the calm before the storm, and you hold your breath in anticipation. The liquid is a little cold when it trickles onto your skin, and you notice Rex also put a generous amount on his hand as he spreads it out, circling your little hole with his thumb. He works one finger into you gently, but you can feel the stretch and you cling onto Fives' shoulders.

"You alright, sunshine?" he asks and you nod, soothed by his voice and the circles Echo is rubbing on your back. Rex works you open gradually with his fingers, adding more oil when needed while Fives whispers words of encouragement into your ear. He keeps his hips painfully still -- your cunt throbs around him and you know he can feel it, too, but he doesn't budge, not yet.

“You’re doing so well, sunshine. Do you think you’re ready?”

“Mmhm,” you murmur against the skin of his shoulder.

“Ask Captain Rex nicely, then.”

You tilt your head up to look at him in slight bewilderment, only to find a playful smirk on his face. Before you can think of what to say, Rex starts slowly pulling his fingers out, grazing them along the sensitive skin in and around your ass, and you whine as you bury your face in Rex’s neck again.

“P-please, captain,” you cry, “please, please.”

His hands firmly dig into your asscheeks, rough and purposeful.

“Please what?”

Your words come out stifled and choked, both held back by your embarrassment to say something so filthy out loud, and shaken up by desire.

“Please fuck my a-ass, I need your cock, Rex, please!”

“Well done, sweetheart,” he says in that low voice that makes you quiver. He lines his cock up with your ass and you can’t help but buck your hips back slightly. His hands take hold of your sides and he starts pushing himself in, splitting you open easily with the help of the oil.

You’re full, so very full, and it’s so much, on the edge of being painful but not quite. Every part of your skin that touches one of your lovers is on fire, burning with arousal like it did when you had those toxins in your body, but better, now that your mind is sound. Whenever you think he can’t go any deeper, he does, and all you can do is hold onto Fives, digging your nails into his skin in the process.

“Fuck, stars, you take me so well,” Rex says behind you.

Echo pets your hair softly. “How’s it feel, baby?”

“F-feels good,” you respond, your words slurring together. Now both Fives and Rex are holding still with you in between them. The waiting is unbearable, like when the ocean pulls back before its biggest waves, and you are waiting for the water to crash.

The smallest roll of your hips is all it takes -- Rex groans as he pulls out about halfway, then thrusts back into you. From below you, Fives starts tilting his hips upwards, and you feel your cunt getting wetter around his cock. With the way you’re lying forwards on his chest, your clit rubs against him every time Rex slams his hips forwards. They move faster and faster, their skin slapping against yours and all you can do is sob, warm tears of pleasure mixing with sweat as they roll down your cheeks.

You can take more. You want to take more, and you look up at Echo through your wet lashes, reaching out for him, trying to find your words.

“Echo,” you whine softly, “my mouth, you can-”

You don’t have to tell him twice. He shifts so his cock is directly in front of your face instantly, unbearably hard and leaking. Your mouth opens almost instinctively, tongue lolling out to taste as much of him as possible.

Rex chuckles behind you as each thrust of his hips forces Echo’s cock further down your throat as you moan around him.

“Seems I was right the first time,” he says, not halting his speed even a little bit, “you really are a good little whore, aren’t you?”

Fuck, why do those words turn you on so much? Being called names was never something you wanted, but the way he said it, in that fucking delicious voice of his, it set you on fire and makes your cunt clench eagerly.

“Kriff, you liked that, didn’t you? Got all tight around me.”

Your mouth is too full of Echo’s cock to answer, but your throat lets out a noise that Echo clearly likes, because he moans and his strong hand finds purchase on your scalp. They fuck you mercilessly, all three of them pounding and thrusting into your body while you bounce on Fives’ cock and grind your clit against him. There is a deep focus to it, this steady rhythm while holding Echo’s cock into your mouth, but it feels so good and so complete, all of you moving together, thinking of nothing else but chasing the pleasure building in your cunt, and once you start slamming your hips down at the same moment Fives thrusts his up, it’s like the ocean wave crashing into the shore with full force, dragging you along with it. You come hard, a white-hot orgasm that shakes you to your core. You let Echo’s cock slip out of your mouth the moment you scream, and Five holds you against his chest where you can hear the pounding of his heart.

Fives halts the relentless thrusting of his hips for a moment, but not Rex -- he gives you not a moment of rest as he uses your ass with the same ferocity he used your cunt back on that planet.

“Fuck, fuck,” he swears behind you, “I’m gonna fucking- gonna cum, gonna fill this t-tight little ass up, would you like that? You wanna take my cum like a g-good little whore?”

“Yes, please, Rex,” you sob in reply.

He buries his cock deep inside your ass, his grip on your hips so tight it hurts, and then suddenly you feel a hand in your hair at the back of your head. Rex grabs a handful of hair and pulls, lifting your head up and back. He keeps you there while he coats your insides with his release, swearing throughout it, before letting you fall back onto Fives’ chest.

Echo stands up from the bed the second Rex pulls out of you and switches places with him.

“You can take a little more, can’t you, baby?” Echo says, lining his cock up with your ass. Some incoherent noise comes out of you as an answer, and Echo pushes in. Rex has opened you up enough for him to enter you easily, but knowing he’s fucking Rex’s cum back inside of you fans the flames in your belly and you can’t help but start bucking your hips back to feel it more, while Fives’ cock is still hot and throbbing in your cunt.

“Look at you,” you hear Rex say, “you can’t get enough of it, can you? Fucking yourself on two cocks at the same time, and looking so pretty doing it.”

“Mmm,” Fives agrees, and you can hear he’s trying to keep his composure but his breathing is ragged as he comes closer to his own release, “such a pretty little cockslut.”

The way they talk to you spurs you on, which they probably intended, and you start riding Fives like your life depends on it, pushing your upper body up a little straighter so you can look at him. He’s beautiful like this, face flushed, beads of sweat between his knitted brows while he intensely chases his pleasure. As soon as you look him in the eye he grabs the back of your head to pull you down, your forehead to his forehead, your nose to his nose, his eyes closed.

“You’re so f-fucking perfect,” he mutters, then lets out a long groan while he spills inside you, his head crashing backwards into the pillow. Echo’s thrusts get shorter and faster now and you buck back against him, wanting to give everything you still have left inside you. Rex’s hand sneaks up between your body and Fives’ to find your clit.

“Cum one more time, sweetheart, I know you can, with two cocks inside you.”

It’s too much -- you want to, but you don’t know if you can, don’t you if you’re even capable.

“I-I can’t, I-” you try to plead, but he rubs your clit roughly and you sob, hot tears wetting your cheeks. Echo tenses up behind you and you know he’s going to finish soon but-

Slap.

Rex’s hand comes down and strikes your asscheek so hard you squeal.

“I said cum.”

You do. You can’t explain it, but you do, an almost painful orgasm coursing through you while the sting of the strike lingers. A curse leaves your mouth but is caught by Fives’ lips pressing to yours and his tongue in your mouth. Echo spills his release into your ass with a moan, and with all three of their loads inside you, you have never felt so full.

After Echo pulls out, you climb off of Fives and let yourself fall backwards onto the mattress, every inch of you covered in sweat. Rex leans over to move some hair out of your face.

“Was that too much?” he asks, and the gentleness in his voice is almost heartbreaking.

“No,” you answer, a blissful smile on your face from how unbelievably good you’ve been fucked, “that was just right.” He leans over to press a kiss to your forehead, and you feel an ever so slight trace of stubble on his jaw, less than a day’s growth. You’ve never thought about him shaving, but you’d like to watch him do it, some day. Fives sits up, grabs your hand and puts it to his lips, pressing a firm kiss to your knuckles. Moments later, Echo appears with a towel from your closet and starts cleaning you up, dabbing the cloth between your thighs where their cum has started trickling out of you.

“So,” you start, grinning playfully “are we even, now?”

Rex chuckles and gets up off the bed to find his underclothes -- no doubt duty will call for him again soon. You feel so, so lucky, that these three men have chosen to spend what little free time they have with you, and a warmth spreads through your chest as you look at them, eyes half-lidded from drowsiness.

“Not a chance,” he jokes, stepping into his briefs.

Fives lets go of your hand and strokes your cheek with his thumb, grinning down at you, and Echo, too, has a smile on his face. Rex kisses your forehead one more time.

“You won’t get rid of us that easily.”

#captain rex x reader #fives x reader #echo x reader #clone troopers x reader #the clone wars #captain rex #fives #echo #if you read all of this thank you ilu

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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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