Ok imma need yall to hear me out on this. Lads men reacting to someone else paying for MC's stuff when she goes out shopping for clothes, getting her hair done, getting her nails done, etc. I can only imagine how ENRAGED they'd be like "excuse the actual fucketh bc WHY IS A MAN THING PAYING FOR YOUR THINGS?!?? I know that youve been blessed bu the goddesses but DAMN!!"
Author’s Note: Thank you for this request, anon! Thank you for trusting me - it was such a fun prompt to explore. I hope I captured what you were picturing. Happy reading! 💝
Summary: Different bills. Different strangers. Same reaction : "I've got her."
A collection of Love and Deepspace drabbles centered around jealousy, possessiveness, and the LIs absolutely refusing to let another man pay for you.
Pairing: all the LIs (separately), including Valko x Reader
You failed to wake up to your alarm, which meant getting ready was a frantic rush.
With no time to make breakfast, you stop by a bakery on your way to work. There’s no way you can survive on an empty stomach, especially without your usual cup of coffee.
After placing your order, you wait near the pickup counter.
“One cheese-and-ham sandwich and an Americano,” the server calls, setting the items down. “That’ll be €6.50.”
You fumble to retrieve your purse, but the zipper on your bag refuses to budge.
Tugging at it, you mutter a curse under your breath.
You don’t have time for this. You’re already running late.
“I’ve got it.”
A hand reaches past you and places a €10 bill on the counter.
You look up to see your neighbor, Charlie, smiling warmly.
“Charlie?!” you say, startled. “Thanks so much. I’ll pay you back, I promise.”
“No need,” he says with an easy smile. “Don’t worry about it.”
Your eyes dart to the clock on the wall.
“I’d love to stay and chat, but I’m really late for work.”
“I can give you a ride,” Charlie offers politely.
“That won’t be necessary.”
The familiar voice comes from behind you.
You turn just as Xavier steps forward, stopping quietly at your side. His expression is calm, though there’s a faint hint of irritation in his eyes.
“Xavier?” you blink in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
When you left earlier, he had still been fast asleep in bed.
“Xavier, good to see you,” Charlie says with a friendly smile.
“Please send me your account details. I’ll transfer the money back to you.”
“You’re in a hurry, right?” he says, turning his attention back to you. “Let’s get you to work first.”
Before you can react, he gently takes your hand and leads you out of the bakery.
As you walk down the street, Xavier speaks again, his voice quiet.
“Next time, wake me up. I can make you breakfast… or bring it to your workplace.”
Zayne and you aren’t really the type to dine at upscale restaurants.
Not because you can’t afford them, but because you both prefer smaller places - the kind that feel cozy, quiet, and warm, as if the meal had been prepared by a home cook.
Lately, though, people have been raving about a newly opened restaurant, and eventually curiosity gets the better of you.
“Is there anything else I can get for you?” the waiter asks.
“No, thank you,” you reply. “I’m so full I couldn’t eat another bite.”
“The food was excellent,” Zayne adds. “Please give my compliments to the chef.”
“Of course, sir,” the waiter says with a polite nod.
“And the bill, please.”
“Certainly. I’ll be right back.”
As the waiter walks away, Zayne glances at you, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“For someone who said the food looked too pretty to eat, you seemed to enjoy it quite a bit.”
Before you can defend yourself, a voice interrupts you.
“Good evening. I’m sorry to bother you.”
A man who looks vaguely familiar approaches your table.
He turns to you. “Do you remember me? You saved me from a Wanderer attack a few days ago.”
“Ah, yes. I’m glad to see you’re doing well,” you say with a small smile.
“Your partner is very brave,” the man says, glancing toward Zayne. “I’d like to pay for your meal as a token of my appreciation.”
Zayne stills, his gaze following the man’s hand as he places a credit card on the table.
Without a word, Zayne reaches into his wallet and takes out his own card. He hands it to the waiter.
Then he slides the stranger’s card back toward him.
“Your gratitude is appreciated,” Zayne says evenly, “but that won’t be necessary.”
“Her time - and her bill - are already accounted for tonight.”
His tone is polite, yet cool enough to leave little room for argument.
The man flushes slightly, retrieves his card, and quickly mutters an apology and another thank-you before excusing himself.
Once you’re back in the car, Zayne loosens his tie with a single practiced tug as he starts the engine.
After a moment, he speaks.
“Do you usually let strangers take care of you?”
Before you can answer, he reaches over and takes your hand.
“Let me take care of these things,” he says, eyes still on the road. “Always.”
You can’t help the small smile that appears on your face.
Zayne’s jealousy is rare, but you can always tell when it surfaces.
You and Rafayel are attending a high-end charity art auction.
It was originally Thomas’s idea - a way for Rafayel to maintain his public image - but Rafayel immediately rejected the suggestion.
Naturally, Thomas turned to you for help.
You explained that you had never been to an art auction before and were curious about the experience. Besides, since it was a charity event, Rafayel would be contributing to a good cause and going together would undoubtedly make the evening more enjoyable.
Eventually, Rafayel agreed.
Of course, as a famous artist, it didn’t take long for the event organizers to pull him away, eager to introduce him to other guests and collectors.
Leaving you alone.
You stand in front of a sculpture when a bidder approaches.
“You have a good eye,” he says. “Good evening.”
“Good evening,” you reply politely.
“You have good taste,” he continues, gesturing toward the sculpture.
“I wouldn’t say that,” you admit with a sheepish smile. “I’m not exactly an art connoisseur.”
“But I can appreciate its beauty.”
“If you were a sculpture, you’d certainly be worthy of praise and admiration.”
You let out an awkward laugh at the compliment.
It’s clear that this person is flirting with you.
A voice carries through the room, interrupting the conversation.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats. The auction is about to commence.”
The bidder gives you a small nod before walking away, and you release a quiet sigh of relief.
You weave your way through the rows of seats until you reach Rafayel. Taking the seat beside him, he offers you a smile and hands you a bidding paddle with the same number as his.
The first item up for auction is the very sculpture you were admiring moments ago.
The bidder from earlier raises his paddle.
“Fifty thousand euros.”
Murmurs and gasps spread through the room as people notice he has bid five times the starting price.
“Please put it under Miss Number 17.”
Number 17?
That’s your number.
Stunned, you look across the room and meet his gaze.
Then you turn back to Rafayel.
His expression is a mixture of surprise and confusion.
“Rafayel, this isn’t what you think…” you begin quickly.
Rafayel narrows his eyes.
“I leave your side for five minutes,” he says dramatically, “and instead of admiring the art, you’re out here collecting admirers?”
He pouts, clearly offended.
Before you can respond, Rafayel raises his paddle with exaggerated confidence.
“Fifty thousand?” he scoffs. “Pluuheese. Put her down for triple the price.”
Your eyes widen, and you completely forget how to speak.
Rafayel simply leans back, giving the bidder a smug, challenging look.
When Sylus invited you to join him at a casino, you were surprised.
Although you had always been curious about such places and had more than once thought about visiting one with your friends someday, your moral compass had always stopped you.
You were firmly against gambling, knowing how easily it can ruin lives.
Sylus explained he was only there to meet with a few business associates.
He made it clear that you were free to decline if the environment made you uncomfortable. However, if you decided to join him, you didn’t have to participate in any of the games. You could simply stay by his side, or use his card if curiosity got the better of you.
Upon arrival, Sylus was escorted to an exclusive private lounge, leaving you alone for the time being.
You wandered through the casino, observing the elegant tables and the players focused on their games. The more you look, the more you realize you don't even know how to play any of the games even if you wanted to participate.
Eventually, you stopped beside a roulette table, standing close enough to watch but far enough away that no one would mistake your curiosity for interest in joining.
Little did you know, you had already drawn the attention of a wealthy, arrogant high-roller.
While Sylus remained occupied with his business associates, the man casually placed a single €10,000 chip onto the betting square closest to you.
He smirks as he says, “Next round is on me, sweetheart.”
Before you could even process what is happening, a leather-gloved hand settles around your waist, pulling you flush against a broad chest.
Sylus towers behind you, his dangerous, crimson gaze locking onto the high-roller.
He doesn’t look angry.
He looks amused - in the most terrifying way possible.
With a lazy flick of his finger, Sylus sends the stranger’s expensive chip right off the table. It rolls across the casino floor like a cheap piece of plastic.
“You’re throwing pocket change at what belongs to me?” Sylus says, his voice deep. “Pitiful.”
The man’s cheek flushes - either from anger, embarrassment, or both, you can’t tell.
“She doesn’t play for pennies,” he adds.
“If you want to gamble your life away so badly, you can bet against me instead.”
The challenge in his voice is unmistakable.
The high-roller mutters something under his breath before storming off
Caleb is the type of person who spoils you relentlessly and pampers you without hesitation.
At first, it made you feel uncomfortable and uneasy. You weren’t used to being treated this way, and the last thing you wanted was for anyone to think you were taking advantage of him.
Over time, however, you slowly grew accustomed to it, realizing that this was simply Caleb’s way of showing you how much he loves and cares about you.
After complimenting one of your friend’s dresses, you ask where she bought it.
She tells you the name of a trendy boutique, and the moment you mention it to Caleb, he immediately insists that the two of you go together.
After spending a considerable amount of time browsing through countless options and trying on outfit after outfit in the fitting rooms, you are finally ready to check out.
Caleb places the clothes you have chosen on the counter before suddenly remembering one more thing he wants to pick up.
He dashes off.
The sales assistant begins scanning your items one by one, folding each piece and placing them neatly into shopping bags.
Then, out of nowhere, a flashy man in an expensive tailored suit approaches the counter.
You notice that he has been glancing your way throughout your shopping trip.
Before you can react, he places a sleek platinum card on the counter.
With a charming smile, he turns toward you.
“Put it all on mine. Beautiful clothes deserve to be worn by a beautiful woman.”
Before the sales assistant can even reach for the card, it suddenly becomes impossible to move.
The card remains pinned firmly against the marble counter, held in place by an invisible force.
Caleb’s Evol.
Caleb steps forward, his entire posture shifting into the disciplined stance of a soldier. His broad shoulders completely block you from the stranger.
He places a firm hand on the man’s shoulder. The pressure of his grip - amplified just slightly by his gravity Evol - enough to make the man’s posture buckle under the sudden weight.
“Look, buddy,” Caleb says, his voice taking on the same commanding tone he uses when addressing the fleet.
“I don’t know who you think you are, but you’re going to pick up your card, take three steps back, and walk away.”
You have been snowed under with work for the past few weeks, and as a result, you’ve completely neglected yourself.
Your hair is a mess of split ends, and your fringe has grown so long you can barely see through it. And don’t even get started on your nails - broken, chipped, and covered in nail polish that is barely hanging on.
When you call your usual salon, they tell you that your stylist is on a two-week vacation and no one else is available to take you.
You try a few other salons, only to be met with the same problem: either their stylists are fully booked, or they can’t offer an appointment that fits your schedule.
Fortunately, you have an amazing boyfriend.
“I called your workplace to let them know you’re taking tomorrow off. Non-negotiable,” Valko tells you the moment you get home.
“I’ve booked you in for a hair appointment, a manicure, and a pedicure,” he adds.
“At least, I think that’s what those services are called.”
“I’ll drive you there tomorrow and pick you up when you’re done. Just call me.”
You immediately reward him with kisses all over his face, scratching affectionately behind his wolf ears.
The salon Valko takes you to the next day looks like the kind of place celebrities and the wives of wealthy businessmen frequent.
Several hours later - a much longer stretch of pampering than you have ever spent in a salon before - you finally emerge feeling presentable again.
The staff who took care of you were wonderful: friendly, attentive, and highly professional.
You make a mental note to leave a five-star review and a generous tip as you head toward the checkout counter.
No doubt this place is expensive, and the services you had done would probably cost an entire month’s salary, but Valko had assured you that he would cover everything.
Suddenly, a wealthy, slick businessman steps up to the counter beside you, drops a high-tier membership card, and flashes you a smarmy grin.
“Put the lady's bill on my VIP tab. A gorgeous face like yours shouldn't have to worry about the price of upkeep.”
Just then, a towering 6'2" muscular frame steps into the man’s personal space.
A low, rumbling growl vibrates from his chest, raising the hairs on the back of everyone's neck.
Valko’s stance is one of danger and predatory stillness.
His golden eyes flare with an intense, territorial heat.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve.”
“Upkeep? Her scent is already marked on my ledger. “I don’t let anyone else pay for the woman I intend to take care of for the rest of my life.”
Tag list : @cordidy @thehyperfixationgirly @pjselee
If you enjoyed this story, feel free to check out my other Love and Deepspace fanfiction.
Summary: Reader finds herself mortified about a certain dream she had
Pairing: Jack Abbott x Fem Reader x Michael “Robby” Robinavitch
Content: Big age gaps (20s/40s/late 40s) , 18+ Smut (MDNI), threesome (FMM), Robby and Jack have done this before 1000%, fingering, oral (reader receiving and jack receiving), double penetration, soft dom Dr. Robby, sub reader, kinda switch Jack??, Robby is very bossy ofc, no protection, some degradation with calling her a slut/dirty etc, some drinking (glass of wine/bourbon)
Notes: I am a big ole hand holding virgin i don’t know how sex or dicks work yall
Wildest Drams
Your fiancé has the uncanny ability to read you. Maybe it’s wisdom, maybe it’s years of working in a busy ED where there isn’t much room for hiding anything.
Regardless of what it is, his ability to read you has its own blessings and curses.
“I can practically feel you stewing over there,” Michael says, rubbing his hand over your knee and thigh. He lays down next to you on your shared bed, scooting you closer to him, “Something wrong?”
You look at him, eyes full of worry and a little trepidation, “Just off today. Nothing big, baby.”
“You know I don’t believe that for a second.”
You sigh, rubbing your hands against your face as you feel your skin prickle with heat. “It’s a little embarrassing…and I don’t know how you’ll take it.”
Michael laughs, his head hitting the headboard. “Well today, we had a patient try to bite Dana, Whitaker got peed on again, and we had a minor school bus crash with kindergarteners on a field trip. So whatever you’ve got, sweetheart, I think I can handle it.”
“I had a sex dream.” You refuse to meet Michael’s eyes. You pick at your fingers, chipping at the nail polish.
Michael’s hand wraps around your side, his strong warmth simultaneously making you feel comfort and guilt.
“A sex dream?” Michael eyes are teasing behind his reading glasses. “Share with the class, sweetheart.”
You groan. “Don’t…take this the wrong way. I love you so much. So much. And I’m thrilled to marry you, but….”
Michael’s eyebrows shoot up at your trepidation. “Are you trying to tell me you’re not satisfied in bed?”
“No! God. You’re good. We’re good. We’re really good, baby. It’s just…Jack was there too?” Your voice trails up in a shyer, quieter, unsure tone.
“Jack…you mean?”
You nod, hands cold and clammy as you think of the millions of different responses Michael might have.
Cocky laughter? That was certainly not on your radar.
“Michael! Don’t laugh at me. I felt so bad.” You explain. But worry on your face is kissed away as Michael leans in and presses his mouth to the side of your head in quick successions. “Not mad?”
“Mad? Ooohhoo! I’m not mad, sweetheart. Intrigued. I’m very intrigued. Tell me about the dream.” His eyes are sparkling in a playful sort of tease.
You lick your lips, looking at Michael as you explain the dream. “Well, I mean…I don’t really remember details but….well you told Jack how to touch me. How I like it.”
Michael nods, his eyes, still sparkling and kind although the thoughts in his mind were anything but. He squeezes your thigh, as if to encourage you. “Right. And how to you like being touched, baby?”
“The way you do it,” You say, a little breathless as Michael’s fingers fiddle with the drawstring of your pajama pants.
“What else?” Michael asks, he’s clipped and clinical as his hands dip lower and his teases you over your pajama pants. “Like this, sweetheart? Hmm? Little touches to your clit so you get nice and wet for me? Nice and wet for my fat cock?”
Breathless, you shudder at his words and ministrations. “Baby….please”
“No” Michael says, his voice slices through you, “Continue.”
You huff, which earns you a soft smack against your clothed pussy. “Shit! Well, uh, Jack’s hands are on me and you two are talking….about who gets my mouth and pussy.”
Michael chuckles, his hands grazing your inner thigh as he teases you through your pants. “At the same time? Huh. What a naughty girl you are? Dreaming about being fucked in your pussy and mouth at the same time?”
You cover your face with your hands again, still working through your embarrassment at this conversation. Your guilt, however, is certainly assuaged by the feeling of Michael’s erection against your hip.
“Seems like I’m not the only intrigued by a threesome, Mike.”
Michael laughs, his chest rumbling against your side. “You know Jack and I’ve known each other for a while, right. Let’s just say that dream of yours wouldn’t have been the first time we’ve found ourselves in that scenario.”
“Michael Robinavitch! Huh, you continue to surprise me for an old man,” you tease before looking at him, “so are threesomes actually fun? Or is it just a cacophony of limbs?”
Michael shakes his head back and forth as if he’s internally debating what he’s going to say. “With the right people, it’s fun. I mean…it’s fun”
“Yeah? When was the last time you did that with Jack?” You ask, curious to your boyfriend’s romantic past.
“It was just once. Jack was dating her and we just…got too a little tipsy one night and one thing led to another. I was much younger and you know…your 20s are for wild things…” Michael explains, remember the night years ago.
You sigh into Michael’s chest, “Don’t take this as a knock against you, but…I feel like I didn’t get any wild 20s. I mean…it’s not anything to do with you. I was boring before you. I just….I went from high school, to college, to working, to you…I kinda just…and now I feel like 30 is knocking on the corner and our wedding and babies. And I want all that. I do. I really really do, Mike.”
“You’ve played it safe.” Michael finishes. He kisses your temple. “I get it. Between the age difference and our schedules…it’s easy for us to just…be in bed by 9:30 every night and not go crazy.”
“Thank you for understanding.” You whisper to him. “I guess my subconscious got the better of me and projected some stuff.” You explain. “Maybe there’s some other wild 20s stuff we can cross off?”
“Like what, sweetheart?”
“Hmm…what about bar hopping? What did you do in your 20s that was wild?”
Michael thinks, remembering the different things he did during his 20s. He laughs, rubbing his hand against your shoulder. “Well…lots of drinking I mean, there’s not much to do while you’re in med school and a resident. But, there’s skinny dipping. Or there’s…your idea?” Michael offers.
“Bar hopping,” you ask. “That could be fun. I’d pick some places that you can get beer since you hate liquor.”
“Not what I was thinking, sweetheart. I was thinking of your other idea.”
You cock your head to the side as you fully understand what Michael was alluding to. His large hand rests on your bent knee and his thumb rubs warm circles that you can feel through your pajama pants.
“You don’t mean….” you start, “you mean that? You’d…be okay with it? More than a dirty fantasy?”
Michael nods, surprisingly calm for a man that just suggested he’d let his best friend and coworker join him and his fiancé in the bedroom.
“Would be a lot of fun. I mean, Jack’ll be down for it. I can just run it past him.”
“You think?” You ask, a little startled at your arousal at the idea of your sex dream becoming a reality. “You think he’d be down with it?”
Michael chuckles, his eye wrinkles crinkling as he drags his thumb up the column of your neck to your chin, tilting it so you’ll look him in the eye.
“Probably. I mean, he’s been pining after Samira like a lost puppy, but Jack…is Jack”
************************************************
You paced in your bedroom, practically stewing inside with a potent mix of trepidation and nerves. You nursed the glass of red wine you insisted on having, despite Michael’s detailed ramble on informed consent.
“It’s you, Mike. It’s not like I’m picking up some random guys in the bar. I trust you. More than anything.”
He sighs, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he looks at you. “Just want to make sure you want this…without the liquid encouragement.”
You stand on your toes, placing a chaste kiss against the corner of Michael’s mouth.
“You are a good man.” You profess, his cheeks turning pink at your words. “It’s not that I need the wine. I just…I need to let myself not be a bundle of anxiety and nerves. I can just feel…loose and a little warm.”
You kiss him more firmly on his mouth, lips slotting together like they always do. You feel his beard rough against your sensitive skin. His teeth nip against your bottom lip, sharp enough to prompt a sly whine from your mouth. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue against yours, turning the previous tender kiss into something heated and ready to rupture.
“See you’re getting started without me,” Dr. Jack Abbott quips as he leans against the doorjam. “Still had the keys from when I’d crash here.” He explains, tossing the spare onto the dish on dresser.
Michael places as kiss against your forehead, before clapping Jack on the back in a touchy, but brotherly manner. “How you doing, man?” Michael asks, giving his night shift counterpart a once over. “Anything crazy happen last night?”
As Jack begins to answer, you interject. “Sorry but no shop talk tonight. If there’s one thing that will not make me relaxed it’s listening to those horror stories. Anyway, uh, hi, Jack. And thanks?”
Michael chuckles at your obvious nerves as he shares a pointed look with Jack. “Y/N’s just a little nervous, man. So we’ll need to get her nice and relaxed, huh?” He asks Jack, his voice laced with condescension that you really do not hate.
As the two men look at you, you can feel heat in your belly at the anticipation of what was to come.
“More than happy to not talk about the Pitt.” Michael says, “but before we get started…I have, uh, one boundary.”
Both you and Jack turn your attention to Michael. “And what’s that, Robby?” Jack asks.
Michael’s large hand comes to up to grip your shoulder as he speaks. “You can get her mouth only.”
You feel that familiar heated arousal as Jack and Michael discuss you and your body as if you weren’t there.
It shouldn’t turn you on. But the idea of two men, over twenty years your senior, talking about which one of them gets your mouth and which one gets your pussy, sends a heated shiver to your core. The way Michael’s eyes narrowed as he made it clear he’d was the one that would claim your pussy shouldn’t have turned you.
Yet it did.
Michael turns to you, his cheeks slightly flushed as he spoke. “Why don’t you show Jack that sweet little set you’re wearing, baby?”
You shed the short, silky robe that’s been covering the cotton pointelle matching set. It’s not overtly sexy, more cozy and comfortable than anything. But the two men’s eyes roam your figure as they see the soft blue color against your skin.
Michael’s fingers graze across the lace trim of the straps, his fingerprints leaving goosebumps in its wake. You watch as Jack moves closer, his eyes narrowing as he watches his friend touch you. Michael kisses your cheek, then your neck, and then along your collarbone. You bring your hand to his head, burying your fingers into his hair as he leaves marks against your skin.
“Try it, Abbott. She’s as sweet as she looks.” Michael says, his voice gravely with arousal as he looks from you to Jack and back at the marks that have pebbled against your skin.
Jack takes your arm, placing traveling kisses against your skin, his eyes never leaving your face. Michael watches, steadfast in his silence. You moan as Jack’s trail of kisses reach your shoulder. He moves the tiny strap to the side as he tenderly bites your shoulder.
Jack’s clean shaven face is smooth. It contrasts the scratch you feel as Michael’s beard drags against your skin. The feeling of their strong, solid bodies against yours is overwhelming and safe at the same time. Your head lolls to the right, pleasure and arousal evident as your smile at the two men.
“That’s good,” you murmur, kissing Michael.
Michael hums, his voice tender as he speaks. “Lay on the bed, sweetheart.”
“And tell us about this dirty little dream of yours.” Jack adds. Their warm bodies, safe and hard against you are like a cozy cocoon you never want to part from. But you comply, the anticipation of pleasure too much to ignore.
“Michael tells you how to touch me.” You start, unable to look either Jack or Michael in the eyes. You fiddle with the beadspread as you speak, heat rising to your chest. “And you touch me.”
“How do I touch you, sweet girl?” Jack asks, he leans forward from his spot on the bed. He looks at Michael, who’s silently watching this unfold. “Does she like it soft and sweet, Robby? Or is she a dirty minx and likes to be teased and edged till she’s squirming?”
“Answer him, darling.” Michael says, he licks his lips, clearly enjoying the exchange.
“I like…to be teased.” You confess, your hands coming to touch your breasts. “And touched here. A lot. I like when Mike plays with my nipples. And leaves marks that only we can see.”
“Very good.” Jack says. He looks at Michael, a shared glance of arousal passing between the pair of them.
“Scoot forward, baby. So you can lay in between Jack’s legs. He’ll keep them parted so you’re all nice and spread open for us.”
You scoot forward so Jack can lay against the headboard. Then, you lay against Jack’s solid, warm body.
“Take those tiny shorts off, Abbott. She thinks she’s cute parading in those things.” Michael quips. “Let’s see how wet she already is. What do you think, Jack? I’m sure she’s fucking soaked.”
Jack helps you shimmy out of the tiny shorts, revealing your lack of panties. He tosses the shorts to Michael. Jack hooks his legs over your legs keeping you spread open for him and Michael.
“Touch her, Jack. Tell me how wet my girl is,” Michael asks, “she’s a naughty little thing. Bet she’s fucking dripping feeling your hard cock against her ass.”
Jack chuckles darkly as he drags his fingers across your belly till he reaches your waiting cunt. He presses a finger against your pussy, feeling your arousal. “Soaked.”
“Hmm, of course she is. What a dirty girl? Getting wet at my best friend touching her dripping cunt. Touch her tits with one hand and play with her clit with the other.” Michael instructs, “She likes her nipples pinched and her clit toyed with till she’s squirming.”
Jack’s fingers are shorter than Michael’s but rougher against the tips. You groan as you feel his bare hand slip under your cotton tank top. He pinches a nipple between his pointer finger and thumb, chuckling as arch your back against him in pleasure.
“She does like her nipples pinched.” Jack comments. With his other hand, he toys with your clit. He moans against your head, his growing erection pressing against your ass. “Can I slip a finger in there, man?”
Michael nods, he takes her hard cock out from his pants. “Yes. She needs at least one orgasm before I can fuck her. She’s still so tight against my cock. Still haven’t gotten used to it, haven’t you, sweetie?”
Michael’s mocking tone makes you close your eyes as Jack’s finger slips inside your hot pussy. He teases your clit with the heel of his hand. Your chest heaved up and down as you gaze at your fiancé. He strokes his cock, precum leaking from his cut tip.
“Kiss her against her pulse”
“Here?” Jack against, his teeth nipping at your bare neck. “She likes that doesn’t she, hmm?”
“It always makes her squirm like that.” Michael comments. “It’s cute, watching her think she’s gonna be able to handle two cocks. Give her another finger, Jack. Watch how my little slut will squirm then,”
Jack complies, his eager, warm mouth kissing your earlobe and biting slight. His rough thumb circles your achy clit before he adds a second finger into your cunt. “Fuck, she’s gripping me so damn hard, man”
“She’s gotta vice like cunt, that one. Fucking made for taking my cock. You should see her ride me, bud. Fucking wild.”
Jack laughs, the patronizing tone the man share making your more turned on than you’d care to admit. “Her? Huh, I had you all wrong, sweet girl. Thought you were a good girl. You’re nothing but a dirty little slut for us, aren’t you sweet thing?”
Michael strokes his angry red cock, holding back his moans as his best friend degrades you. “Fuck, babygirl. Look at you. So fucking sexy getting fingered by Jack. Don’t you worry, angel, he’ll get you all nice and stretched out for my big cock.” He continues to stroke himself as he watches Jack tease you.
“Gonna fill her cunt and her mouth with cum, Robby.” Jack says, slipping a third finger into your pussy. He makes a come hither motion and causes your back to arch off the bed. His legs, one metal and the other flesh, keeps you pinned against the bed. “She likes that, man. I feel her clenching.”
“You like that, honey? Hmm, you like me filling that cunt of yours to the brim? Nice and full, mouth and cunt. You’ll look so damn sexy.”
You nod, words caught in your throat at the erotic sight of Michael jerking off as he watches you and Jack. “Can I give her a little tap on the pussy?” Jack asks.
Michael nods, licking his lips as he watches Jack’s hand come in contact with your dripping cunt. You yelp as you reach the brink of your orgasm.
“We gonna let her cum?” Jack asks, giving your cunt another spank. “Or we gonna keep her edged and needy for us?”
Michael moves forward. He rests against the bed in between your legs, his face close to your cunt. He kisses your inner thighs as his nose nudges against your needy pussy. “She’s close….let’s go easy on her, hmm.”
Jack’s thumb and pointer finger rubs quick, steady circles around your swollen clit. “Just like that, Jack. Good. Play with that needy clit while I taste my girl.”
You feel the tip of Michael’s nose against your needy cunt as he laps up your arousal. The feeling of Jack’s fingers rubbing your clit and Michael’s unyielding tongue is almost too much to bear. You dig your heels into the bed, your thighs pinching against Michael’s head. You rut against his face, your orgasm turning your limbs to jelly.
“She’s so fucking ready, man. I can feel her pulse in her clit” Jack says, his steady, torturing pace making your grind against his hard cock that presses against your ass.
“Atta’ girl,” Michael says, a sly grin on his face. Your dampness covering his beard. And you pull him up by the collar for a kiss. You taste your heady, musky arousal against his tongue.
“Thank you,” you say, breathless. “That was…wow. I am ready for the next part…but first…I wanna kiss.”
Michael, ever the doting fiancé complies, but he’s met with your hand squeezing his cheeks. “Not me,” you say, “him. I mean….you’re not the only one can give orders, Dr. Robinavitch.”
Michael’s eyes move from you to Jack as a shy smile crops against his face. “Come on,” you retort, “I know it’s happened before. And don’t you want to taste me, Jack?”
You feel Jack’s deep, rumbling laughter against you back. Michael leans forward past you to reach Jack. He kisses his friend fervently. Your hand sneaks down to your still wet cunt and your touch yourself as you feel Jack behind you and Michael leaning against your front.
“Doesn’t she taste good?” Michael asks, parting from Jack.
Jack nods, a tinge of red coloring his cheeks. “So fucking good. Can’t wait to feel that warm mouth against my cock. Gonna fill you up with cum from both sides, Angel.”
Michael nods, his big hands coming to your waist to lift off your tank top. “Show Jack these pretty tits,” Michael instructs, his kisses your breasts, nipping at your pebbled nipples. “So fucking pretty. On your hands and knees, pretty girl,” he tells you.
You take the position. The bed is low enough that your mouth lines up with Jack’s crotch. Michael’s large, warm hand rests against your bare ass. “She’s pretty like this, isn’t she?”
“Gorgeous,” Jack says, standing in front of you, stroking your face.
“Why don’t you unzip Jack’s pants, baby” Michael suggests, giving your ass an encouraging tap. “There you go, darling. You’ll take him in that warm mouth of yours. All the way,”
Your hand shakes a little as you undo the zipper of Jack’s pants. He lets him fall to his ankles, carefully stepping out of them to regain a balanced footing. His hard cock tents against his boxers. Eagerly you reach in his pants, gripping his erection. His cock curves slightly, shorter than Michael’s but thick and veiny. You lick your lips at the sight of it.
“Let what you see, baby?” Michael asks. Jack grips his cock at the base, lining it up to your lips. “Take him in your mouth, sweetie. Just the tip. Let him feel how warm and wet your mouth is.”
“That’s it. Good girl,” Jack groans, the tip of his cock in your mouth. He cups your jaw gently, practically groveling when you swipe your tongue to taste his precum.
“Just like your dream, babygirl?” Michael tuts, watching as you eagerly take Jack’s cock.
“Fuck. Her mouth is good. So warm. Just like that. A little deeper now, baby. Fill her up too, Robby. Stuff that needy little cunt of hers.” Jack’s crass words make you moan, opening your mouth for more of his thick cock. Your wanton moans turn into vibrations that make Jack close his eyes in pleasure.
Michael’s cock teases you as he drags his thick head against your needy, achy cunt. “So wet. So wet for us, aren’t you. One fat cock isn’t enough for you, isn’t it? She’s so greedy, Jack. Look at her,”
“She’s a fucking star, Robby.” Jack coos, stroking your face as he inches his cock into your mouth inch by inch. “Taking two cocks like a champ,”
“You ready for my cock, baby. Hmm? Jack got you nice and wet for me, playing with your cunt and pinching those nipples.”
“I think she’s ready, Robby,” Jack interjects, “besides, I don’t think I’m gonna much longer.”
You nod, mouth full of Jack’s cock. Drool leaks from your mouth and Jack wipes it away with a cock grin. “You like your mouth all stuffed with cock, don’t you?” He teases, he releases his cock from your mouth. “Tell Robby how much you want him to stuff your pussy with his fat cock,”
Moaning you nod. You turn your head to look at your fiancé. “Please, baby. I need your cock too. I need you to fill me up. Breed my cunt with your cum,” you plead, desperation darkening your eyes.
Michael nods, the thick head of his cock slipping deeper into your pussy. You moan, mouth open and free. Jack takes advantage of your needy moans, stuff his cock back into your warm, wet mouth.
“That’s it, huh? Just like you dreamed, sweet thing,” Michael asks, his hips snapped up to fuck you deeply. He grips your hips, fingers digging deep into your flesh. “Look at Jack in the eyes. Let’s let him see how fucking pretty you are when you come, my sweet girl.”
Jack’s head cocks, watching you struggle to take all of his cock down your throat. His hand, warm and steady, rests tenderly against your throat. He chuckles, ignoring your pleading moans for release.
“Robby, feel her throat,” Jack says, his hand never leaves your throat. “I can feel my cock in there. You feel it, man? Feel her throat take my cock,” Jack and Michael’s hands meet against your throat. Neither of them put any pressure against it, but their warm, steady and big hands practically engulf your entire neck.
“Fuck, baby. He’s in ya so fucking deep,” Michael says, “You gonna come yet, man?” He asks Jack, whose strained face gives his answer away.
“Do we let her come first? Hmm, would you like that? Or do you want us to cum in your sweet mouth and tight cunt first? So you’ll come with our cum leaking from your cunt and dripping from your mouth”
“Let her cum, Robby. Look at her. She can hardly take it.” Jack says, pitying you as you moan around his cock.
“I don’t know, sweetheart. You tell us what you want, babygirl.” Michael coos, his large hands bracing your hips. “Shit, you’re so damn good for me.”
You moan tightly around Jack’s cock, the vibrations making his cock finally give in. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Is she a swallower,” he asks, again ignoring you in fair of asking your fiancé your preferences.
“Oohoohoo, she’s a swallower for sure, Abbott. Have her show you her pretty tongue when she’s done.” Michael gives your ass another smack and your soft flesh ripples at the touch.
Jack comes with quick juts of his hips into your mouth, you hold eye contact, looking up at him with heavy, laden eyes. “Fuck,” he says, emptying his cum into your eager mouth. He slips his still half-hard cock from your mouth, his residual cum slipping from your lips and dribbling down your chin.
“Shit, man. She’s got a mouth on her,” Jack murmurs, sitting on the armchair.
Michael takes you by the throat, his cock is buried deep in your pussy. He holds you flat against him, kneeling against the bed, propping you up so you’re sitting on his cock. “Do you want Jack to see you ride me, baby? Or fuck you from behind?”
“Take me from behind, please, baby.” You plead, limbs weak from your impending orgasm. “Fuck, I don’t think I can hold myself up.” You whine.
Michael tuts, clicking his tongue against the top of his teeth. “Hmmm, that’s right. I forget how cockdrunk you get, sweetie. And now you got two cocks. Poor thing. Can hardly move? It’s okay, I got you, Angel.”
He kneels against the bed, looking at you bent at the waist, ass up and face planted on the bed. Michael’s warm, large hand spreads against your bare back. He resumes his unrelenting pace, fucking you dumb.
You whine, feeling your impending climax grow more and more needier. “Fuck, honey. I need to come.” You beg, your voice raw and hoarse.
“Ask him.” Michael says, his head nodding towards Jack, who sits stroking his now fully hard cock between a tight fist. “Ask Jack if you can come yet, babygirl”
You summon enough energy to lift your head to see Jack. “Please! Fuck, Jack. Please let me come! Shit, you feel so big this way, honey.”
“Well isn’t that cute,” Michael mocks, his voice playful and teasing. He rubs your clit, only adding fuel to your fire. “She has been good hasn’t she,” Michael confesses, “Maybe Jack will let you come again if he can come all over those pretty tits. Would ya like that, buddy?” He asks Jack, whose stiff cock leaks precum onto his thigh.
“Fuck yeah, man” Jack says, standing up onto his legs. He adjusts his prosthetic, a slight groan probably from standing on it all day.
Michael tells you to lay on your back and you are eager to comply. His long, thick fingers graze down your sides, making you giggle. “You’re cute” he says, a look for adoration and love, despite the incredibly erotic scene occur. “You good, sweetie,” he asks, tenderly.
“Grand,” you say, looking up as Jack continues to pump his hard cock. “Although he might also need some Ibuprofen too, Mike.” You quip teasing your fiancé, “since you know, you’re probably throwing your back out showing for your friend.”
Jack laughs, the dark chuckle making Michael blush. “You think you’re funny, sweetheart,” Michael asks, stroking your jaw.
“Well when you fuck an old man, you kinda figure he needs some medicine after for all his aches and pains,”
“Ah! Brave for a slutty little girl who was just stuffed with two cocks begging to come.” Michael teases, his voice laced with faux sympathy.
“And brave for someone that’s about to be leaking cum from her pussy and tits,” Jack adds, still pumping his hard cock. “You might need to teach this one some respect, Robby.”
Michael laughs, lining his cock up to your pussy again. “Gonna fill you up to the brim, sweetheart. Gotta get some good practice for when I breed nice and full when we’re married.”
Michael reaches out for your hand, holding it tightly as his pelvis snaps against your pussy. You feel the familiar heat build in your core, your breathless moans encouraged by Michael’s fingers against your clit and his cock in your pussy. “That’s it, baby. Come for me, let Jack see how pretty you are when you come, Angel.”
Your orgasm is warm and welcoming as a feeling a bliss washes over you. Your toes clench, twisting against the bed as Michael continues to fuck you, his pace unrelenting.
“Just like that, pretty girl. Isn’t she just the prettiest thing? I’m so close, baby.”
“Gorgeous,” Jack says, his hand stroking his cock as shoots streaks his cum on your waiting, eager tits. “Fuck, that’s good, so good,”
Michael pants, his pace growing slower, “Gonna fill you up. Gonna be leaking my cum.” His eyes are greedy, taking in the sight of you, spent and covered in his friend’s leaking seed.
“So needy,” Jack says, sitting down on the armchair, “covered in my cum and begging for me.”
“Fuck, baby. I’m gonna cum, fill you up with my spunk,” Michael cums with a deep grunt, his warm cum filling your raw, spent cunt. He fills you deep with his seed, reveling in fucking you bare. You fall into a deep, warm, safe space as both Jack and Michael praise you.
He slips out of your cunt, his soft cock bobs against his pelvis. “You good sweetheart. Was it good for you, baby? Hmm?” He asks, reaching out to kiss your hand.
You give a feeble smile as you offer a weak thumbs up. Michael laughs. You hang your hand over your head, palm spread out to offer Jack a high-five that he reciprocates. “Good,” you say, “kinda boneless and…uh…sticky? I need a shower.”
You lay there as Michael goes into the en-suite bathroom probably to grab towels to clean you off. “Thank you,” you say to Jack, your body and brain too exhausted to care about any residual awkwardness of still being naked in front of your fiancé’s coworker/best friend. “That was…very good. Wild,” you mumble weakly.
“No worries. Besides Robby and I needed a little bit of your wild fantasy” Jack says. He puts his pants back on, before clapping Robby on the shoulder. “See you two lovebirds later.”
Michael claps Jack on the back, mentioning something about how Jack is better for fiancé satisfaction scores that patient ones.
He sits by you, the bed dips with his weight. The towel is damn and warm. He cleans up the sticky cum from your breasts and belly, gently and as reverent as a prayer. “There you go, baby. Nice and clean.”
“Thank you, Mike,” you whisper, hands coming to clasp together around his head, pulling him close so you can kiss him, “That was…really fun.”
He continues to wipe the stickiness of your skin, tutting against his teeth when he sees the marks against your skin. “You need a warm bath,” he says, “And I mean…my back is killing me. Bad angle.” He grimaced.
You laugh, sitting up to kiss him again, “you need ibuprofen?” You tease, a smile that Michael loves to kiss and nip at cropping on your lips.
“Oh shut up,” Michael says, no actual contempt in his voice as he tries to silence your teasing, “water, warm bath, something to eat, and then I’ll let you pick what we watch on TV,”
You take his hand as he leads you the bathroom, the large tub filling up with warm water. “Only because you’ll fall asleep in five minutes on that hideous chair.”
Michael gives you an offended look as he passes your water bottle. “Electrolytes.” He says as clinically as he would’ve to a patient he cares for. “And don’t shit on the La-Z-Boy, babe. It’s got the best lumbar support.”
“Oh my god, just stop,” you laugh, “maybe now is the time to tell you about another dream I had on that stupid chair.”
Hey friends! Welcome back! As requested: here ya’ll go! My semester is ending and its been so crazy here as I’m getting ready to leave :) i hope you all enjoy the reading below. Any and all comments, reblogs and likes are sincerely appreciated! Keeps the blog active if you’d like to continue seeing more content. ☀️💐 I do love spring and lately im even more excited for the blessings summer will bring!
♡ Pile 1:
Hanged man, 6 of pentacles, king of cups, 9 of swords
Hey welcome here pile 1! Your FS is incredibly emotionally intelligent and aware of themselves and others <3 it’s so sweet I feel like they could be a vet, doctor, nurse or a practice at the moment. Even a school counselor, advisor, a researcher. They prefer to wear comfy luxurious clothing—nothing that screams in your face, but they come across as light on their feet, ethereal, graceful. I’m hearing they hold the room with ease meaning their energy is what captivates the room. Your FS is also someone who struggles a lot mentally because they are so aware, and this isn’t uncommon in intelligent people. Sometimes we know too much. Your person tries to think of all possible scenarios, outcomes, ideas, etc. it can get difficult to manage. They are curious, and love joking around and have this sense of home to them. Therefore they’ll also take care of the home too, they might have an established apartment/house. Something that really draws people in, and makes people wonder how they have that money to support themselves. They can also live alone at this time, but ate open to helping others. Super super generous and kind, they may have libra, or water placements in their chart 🤍 they see the good in others and try to elevate people. They are seen as stable, calming and supportive. I also feel like they have a lot of wisdom—you’ll know right off the bat of meeting them! You won’t need time second guess that they are intelligent <3 they can even have a pisces placement as well! Or you can meet them in a pisces month. Or this could be you with a pisces placement :) they do love spontaneous adventures like hiking, camping, anything to do with “home” and coming together they really enjoy. They can cook very well—i heard salmon soo they really enjoy cooking 😩 I’m talking really good salmon. Too tier food!! Its also aesthetically pleasing to look at, because they have an eye for detail. They also could be in a prominent position at their work right now where they are seen as again, an advisor, manager, admin, counselor, consultant of some kind and they generate a lot of money off of this. They don’t feel stressed out about their home life & financial situation! And if you need their help financially they will be there, they’re so blessed they are able to help others too <3 ultimate golden retriever energy. They might have blonde hair, leans ash blonde, dark blue eyes. They may have a youthful appearance, especially their cheeks and eyes make them look smaller and younger. They might have the smile of a wealthy person (im not sure how to describe this) its more of an energy of when they smile. For female I see brunette hair, she might have a business or job surrounding occupational therapy where she helps others. Your person likes ASMR lmao. Thanks so much to everyone reading this <3 I appreciate any and all support!
Craving more insights? I do personal readings too—deep, detailed, all about you. Tap [here] to get your own magical reading today! Limited spots, and I love tuning into your energy.
♡ Pile 2:
Knight of swords, knight of cups, strength, 5 of wands
Heyy welcome!! Thank yall for being here. Your person is so so conversational and wears their heart on their sleeve <3 you’ll see it right away. They are strong in their values and prefer to have relationships that are heart centered, touching and fun. They also like to be a fun person—not just someone who is nonchalant, im hearing they cant stand that energy! They give life so they need life. Possible zodiac signs include Leo, Aquarius/gemini. They are so talkative in a way that’ll have you giggling, they know exactly how to talk your ear off and they’re so sweet. They’re incredibly loyal to their friends and to you once you meet them. They may prefer to wear softer colors, colors that aren’t typically expected for their gender…? So they definitely could have experienced gender differences and double standards for sure. But they’ve honed in their identity now and aren’t afraid to show it. They are charismatic, enigmatic, they also may love synth music with a lot of reverb or just songs that sound ethereal. Like pastel ghost, crystal castles, etc. they have an electrifying presence and its zappy—and fun! They may seem one foot in the door way because their mind has so many tabs open lol. I feel that they are the type that when something great happens they think of you. “I cant wait to tell you about this moment.” And they’ll hold onto that for the rest of their day :) thats so cute. As for their family background i see a lot of tension, there’s disagreements and conflicts possibly because they do not have an education, or they took a different route that involves trade school. Or they were undervalued by their family a lot for being softer—people mistook that for weakness. It doesn’t even have to be family related it could be friends too. Their ex friends! They have worked on themselves emotionally and they have a lot of resilience and patience, and although sometimes they can speak without thinking, they mean well. Their brain just goes everywhere at once! Im hearing they could have ADHD too. They have a lot of big dreams, ideas, visions for their future! They often get overwhelmed by their fantasies because they sometimes dont know how to create it, how to cultivate it, or bring it into reality and hold it. Not just letting it in—but holding it. Allowing themselves to receive. They struggle with worthiness there. They can have a father figure who is very traditional, leans cold & distant and prefers logic over emotional matters. I also saw 11:11 as I write this! So even more confirmation for you. They honestly have a whimsical heart at best and although this father figure shunned it, they learned to reveal it elsewhere :) Thanks to everyone who has been here! Please like comment and reblog to boost <3
Craving more insights? I do personal readings too—deep, detailed, all about you. Tap [here] to get your own magical reading today! Limited spots, and I love tuning into your energy.
♡ Pile 3:
The fool, strength, magician, and 2 of cups
Hey welcome pile 3! Appreciate having you here :) your person is a interesting mix. Like a cocktail lol. They are free and adventurous and open but practice restraint and discipline. They don’t want to be reckless—they want to enjoy without hurting themselves which is a great trait to have. They are charismatic, powerful speakers even. They could have a job where they are a speaker, consultant, legal consultant is what I heard, they could be in therapy, social work, they could work with children in a way! They are seen as a strong leader, bold and cheerful and intelligent. They also feel confident in themselves to succeed and they are quite optimistic in their approach to life. Im hearing life dealt them a cold hand and so thats why they work with disadvantaged people, people who were oppressed and hidden by the system. Especially children. They remember what its like to be stuck. This person really truly cares about one on one connections, they don’t do well in group settings but they try. They mostly focus on seeing the person in front of them completely and because of this people get scared of intimacy is what I heard. Your person has a lot of emotional depth and even spiritual awareness. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were practicing spirituality or reconnecting with ancestral roots. They have healed and alchemized a lot of their past pain. Random note they may have a cat. Lol. Your person is incredibly loyal—but first they do come forward strong so people wouldn’t step all over them. Theres definitely apart of them that years for emotional comfort & their past, but this isn’t something people see easily unless you’re close to them. They love nurturing their inner child, their inner child comes out a lot in supportive connections. They are currently looking for that in their life <3 having someone else who is their other half. “You’re my sun, im your moon” is what I heard aww. Thats cute. This person is hopeful they’ll be meeting you soon! I wonder if you’ve also been in sync with this person energetically and receive so many signs and dreams about them lol. Almost drives you nuts! But you love it :) speaking about nuts they might be allergic to it. Kinda random lolll. Their possible signs could be in a water sign (cancer scorpio pisces) or fire! Thanks to everyone being here! <3
Craving more insights? I do personal readings too—deep, detailed, all about you. Tap [here] to get your own magical reading today! Limited spots, and I love tuning into your energy.
Extra
Thank you all once again for being here <3 your follows are sincerely appreciated!
summary: Getting stranded on the side of the road during a cross-country trip back to university with your little brother's best friend was not on your summer bingo card. And he's determined to torture you.
❧ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Jungkook x Fem!Reader
❧ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: romantic comedy ♥ fluff ✿ smut 🜂
❧ 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: Explicit (18+)
❧ 𝐚𝐮: college au ⋆ roadtrip au ⋆ brothers best friend au ⋆ older reader au
❧ 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐬: brother's best friend ✓forced proximity ✓ older reader ✓ one bed ✓ idiots in love
❧ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: strong language ✗ sexual tension ✗ graphic sexual content ✗ excessive flirting ✗ jungkook weaponizing eye contact ✗ basically jungkook being a menace ✗ y/n has anger issues ✗ a LOT of dirty talk, praise etc
❧ 𝐰𝐜: 13k
please do not translate, or copy my work without my permission
banner/edit by @itshopeworld
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A/N:
hey yall ITS HERE 🎉
I just have to say right now this update is a monster and I blame Jungkook’s horny ass. honestly depraved, and pretty much some of filthiest content I’ve ever written. yeah he stressed me out. and he’s not even my bias wrecker idk what kinda hold he’s got on me these days 🥀
anyways heed the warnings cause thar be smut ahead, minors no read-ee please.
enjoy! ♡
read PART ONE HERE
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2. One of Everything
The tow truck reeked of motor oil and somebody's cold fast-food lunch, and you spent the entire ride into town staring a hole through the windshield, spine locked so rigid it had started to ache, not saying one single word.
Because if you opened your mouth you had NO idea what was going to fall out of it.
Ten minutes. It had been ten minutes and you could still feel it.
Nope. Nope nope nope. Not doing this. Not thinking about it.
You were absolutely thinking about it.
Because he had barely touched you. That was the part your brain kept snagging on.
And you'd fallen apart anyway. Completely. Embarrassingly. Against his shoulder with your teeth in it so you wouldn't make it worse.
You would take that to the grave. You would be lowered into the earth with it sealed in your chest. Except—
Except he'd felt the whole thing happen. Every second of it. And then he'd put his mouth to your ear and said good girl, I knew you could do it, like he'd been certain, like it was a foregone conclusion the second you climbed into that truck.
He knew.
HE KNEW.
Great. Wonderful. Perfect. So that was your life now, forever, until you died.
And the worst part—God, the worst part, the part that had your hands fisted in your lap—
That had never, in the history of ever…happened with anyone before.
Not like that. Not once. You'd been on dates. You'd been kissed. You'd been touched, properly, with intent, by guys who were genuinely trying their best, and not one of them had ever gotten you within a mile of that — and this idiot managed it in a moving vehicle without getting a hand under your shirt.
So yeah. You were angry.
Angry at him, because it was on purpose—every last bit of it. Angry at the car. And at eleven idiotic ignition tries that had dumped you in his lap to begin with.
Mostly, though? Mostly at yourself.
Years of not looking at that boy gone. Over. Undone in the front seat of a tow truck before you even reached the town.
Speaking of, the town if you could even call it that, materialized out of the heat like a mirage that had given up trying to be beautiful.
One gas station. One diner with a flickering sign missing two letters. One motel. And, praise be, one mechanic shop with its garage door yawned open like it had been waiting all day for something to happen.
You had never been so happy to see rust in your life.
The tow truck driver deposited you both in the gravel lot with a cheery "Good luck, kids," which felt less like a blessing and more like a warning. You slid off Jungkook's lap the second the door opened, which meant you promptly forgot about your ankle and put your full weight on it.
"Ah— shit—"
His hand shot out and caught your elbow before you could reintroduce your face to the ground for the second time that day.
"Two for two," he observed. "You really committed to the ground thing today, huh."
"I tripped."
"You fell. Twice. Dramatically. In front of an audience."
"The audience," you gritted out, "could keep his commentary to himself."
"The audience paid for a ticket. He gets a program and everything."
You would have argued but the mechanic had emerged, wiping his hands on a rag that was making things dirtier, and you squared your shoulders. You knew how this went. You'd watched your dad handle car people your whole life. The second they clocked two broke college kids, the numbers were sure to climb.
So you opened your mouth, ready to take charge, handle it and be the adult in the room.
And then Jungkook stepped in front of you.
"Hey, man." His voice had dropped into something you had never heard from him. Easy. Grounded. The kind of tone that took up space without asking permission. "Battery's dead. Jumped it off my cables this morning to get it going, but it's not holding a charge anymore — cells are shot. You got one in stock or you gotta order it?"
You blinked.
The mechanic squinted at him, reassessing. "Gotta order it. Won't be in till morning, earliest."
"Cool. What's it run? And don't quote me the tourist rate — we both know a battery's a hundred and change and it's fifteen minutes to drop in."
Excuse me.
Excuse me, since when did Jungkook — who once microwaved a fork on a dare, who thought "check engine" was a friendly suggestion — know what a dead cell was?
Without your permission you felt a pulse race down below to between your legs at a speed that left you dizzy.
Oh no. Oh helllll no. For the love of god—there was no way…no way that Jungkook speaking to this man like he had some hair on his chest was turning you on.
What the fuck was wrong with you??
And — hang on. Rewind. Jumped it off my cables this morning?
He'd jumped it. This morning. Known the battery was on its way out — and driven you across three states on it anyway, because he'd figured it would be fine??
And instead of saying hey, I think the battery's going, he made a dumb joke, and let you believe he was an idiot who fixed things with his foot. Anything but admit he'd got it wrong.
Cause clearly he'd rather you thought he was stupid than wrong.
Now, you were sure he was both.
You stood there, gawking, as the two of them settled into an actual negotiation. Arms crossed. Chin tipped. Not budging. The mechanic named a number, Jungkook named a smaller one, and — the audacity — got it. And then shook the man's hand at the end like they were old friends.
"There a place to stay around here?" he asked, already sliding your bags onto his own shoulder before you could reach for them.
"Motel down the road. Only one in town. Tell Deb I sent you."
"Appreciate it."
Then he turned and walked, expecting you to follow, which you did, because your brain was still back in the lot trying to file a report on what it had just witnessed.
"Okay, who was that."
"That was me handling it."
"Since when do you handle anything?” It came out so fast, you didn’t realize you had tossed him a grenade.
“I seemed to handle you just fine fifteen minutes ago.” He tossed it right back, and his smirk was atrocious as he watched you detonate. Your brain once again optimistically beamed a signal down so fast you almost whimpered this time, but you managed to recover with a slow inhale.
“I’m going to act like I didn’t hear that.”
"Yeah, ok…too soon–got it. Anyways,” He was giving you a reprieve for now. “You'd know I work on cars if you ever bothered to pay attention, noona. My brother taught me before he taught Jay."
You stopped walking.
"You jumped it." You held up a hand. "This morning. You jumped a dying battery, and then told me you got it running by kicking it."
"I did kick it." He was fighting a grin, and losing, and there was something underneath the grin that was working a little too hard. "First. Didn't work. Then I used the cables."
"You let me think you fixed a car with your foot."
"Sounded better than the truth."
"The truth is you knew that battery was dying." Your voice climbed. "You jumped it, which means it was already dead, which means you knew — and you put me in that car for a twelve-hour drive across three states anyway, on a maybe."
Jungkook's jaw did something. For half a second you watched it shift ever so slightly, and if you were any less observant you would have missed it.
"I thought it'd hold," he said, shorter than usual. "It didn't. It happens."
"It happens…?!"
"Batteries die, Y/N. I read it wrong. It's not—" He caught himself. "It's getting fixed now. That's the part that matters."
"That is not the part that—"
"It's the only part I can do anything about." He hitched the bags higher on his shoulder and started walking again. "So that's the part I did."
You opened your mouth and found, irritatingly, that you had nothing.
—
The motel was the color of a Band-Aid and roughly as inviting.
Deb, who did in fact exist, sat behind a counter beneath a wall of keys — most of them hanging on their little hooks like they'd been there since the Clinton administration. She looked up over her glasses as you approached, took one long appraising sweep of the two of you, and something knowing settled across her weathered face.
Oh no.
"Just the two of you?"
"Yes ma'am," Jungkook said, in that same tone that apparently worked on everyone born before 1970. "Need a room for the night. Car's in the shop."
"Mm." Deb tapped a pen. "Well. You're in luck. Sort of."
You did not care for sort of.
"Got exactly one room left. Weekend crowd from the raceway two counties over cleaned me out." She plucked a key from its hook and set it on the counter with a click that echoed way too loud. "Number nine. One bed. There's a chair."
The word bed — singular — landed in your stomach and exploded.
"Oh— no, we'll need two rooms, or two beds, or—"
"Honey, I'd love to give you two of anything, but I only got one of everything." Deb slid the key another inch toward Jungkook, bypassing you entirely, which felt personal. "Take it, or take the diner booth. Grill closes at ten."
Jungkook picked up the key. "We'll take it."
"Kook—"
"Thank you, ma'am. You've been a real lifesaver."
"Mm-hm." Deb was already looking back down at her crossword. "Y'all have a good time."
You were somewhere else entirely at that point — specifically, several feet down a spiral about the words one and bed — and it went past you like the tumbleweed you spotted earlier.
Deb beamed at him on the way out. She had known him for ninety seconds and she already liked him more than she liked you. Figures.
You waited until you were outside, until the office door had swung shut and the evening heat wrapped around you both like a wet towel, before you rounded on him.
"One bed."
"I heard her."
"One bed, Jungkook."
"I'm aware of how counting works." He was already ambling toward the row of doors, jingling the key, insultingly relaxed. "You want me to march back in and yell at a seventy-year-old woman until a second bed materializes? Is that the play?"
"—The PLAY," you exploded, at a volume that put a bird off the motel roof, "was to NOT BE HERE. The play was to be four hundred miles from this ass-backwards town in a car that WORKED, driven by somebody with the GOD-GIVEN SENSE to notice his vehicle was DYING before he packed another entire human being into it and drove it into a DESERT—"
"Okay—"
"—and now I'm STRANDED in a town with ONE of everything, in a motel the color of a BAND-AID, with a busted ankle and a boy who jump-started a battery he KNEW was dead and then LIED about it for a JOKE, and if you say it's getting fixed tomorrow to me one more damn time I swear on everything holy I will take that key and I will LODGE it somewhere that Deb can't reach it—"
Jungkook waited politely for you to run out of air.
"You done?"
"No."
He waited some more.
"...Yeah."
"Cool." He stopped at the door to number nine and did not unlock it. Turned the key over in his fingers instead. "Hey. Real quick. You think Deb thought we were together?"
You stared at him.
You stared at him for a while.
"Oh." His whole face lit up. "Oh, so you didn't hear her. Guess you were too busy freaking out."
"I was not freaking—"
"Y'all have a good time," he said, in a truly criminal impression of a seventy-year-old woman. "That's what she said."
"That could mean anything—"
"Sure." He nodded, agreeable as anything. "Sure it could."
"We are STRANDED," you informed him, at volume. "I can barely WALK. My entire life is in the trunk of a DEAD CAR a mile up the road, and the thing you have chosen to bring up at this moment — the ONE THING — is what a woman with a CROSSWORD PUZZLE assumed about TWO PEOPLE she has known for NINETY SECONDS—"
"You don't have to yell, I'm right here."
"—and I need you to understand that NOBODY THINKS THAT—!"
"I'm just saying she's got instincts."
Something dropped through the floor of your stomach and kept going.
Because that was twice now, in sixty minutes, that this boy had said something perfectly stupid in a perfectly casual voice and left you standing there with your pulse in your throat. And you hadn't even recovered from the first one yet.
He was already unlocking the door.
You closed your eyes. You counted.
"You" you said, very evenly, "will be taking the floor."
"Obviously I’m taking the floor." He slotted the key in and shouldered the door open. "What kind of man do you think I am?"
You opened your mouth.
"Careful," he added, without looking back. "Your answers gonna tell me a lot about what you think about when you can't sleep."
You stepped on his heel on the way in. On purpose. He didn't even flinch, just grinned at the wall like he'd won something.
—
The room was exactly what 50 dollars a night bought: one bed with a floral comforter that had seen things, one armchair that could generously be called structural, a bolted-down TV, next to it a desk with the chair missing, and an air conditioner that rattled to life with all the fight of Jungkook’s dying car.
You sat on the edge of the bed and took your first real breath in hours.
"I'm showering first," Jungkook announced, already toeing off his shoes. It wasn't a question — he'd been making executive decisions all day and clearly saw no reason to stop now. "You can go after. You reek of outside."
"Excuse me?? I reek of—"
The bathroom door clicked shut on the rest of it. The pipes groaned, water hissed to life, and you told yourself the thing loosening in your chest was relief at finally getting a minute alone to think.
And you did not think. You spent the entire length of his shower failing to think, listening to him nail a song through the wall, trying very veryhard not to think about him nailing something (or someone) else, and staging stern little internal lectures that collapsed the second the water cut off.
He came out in a towel.
Just the towel. Slung low on his hips, water still tracking down his chest, hair shoved back dark and dripping. And he crossed the room like there was nothing remarkable about any of it, like you weren't boxed into one small room with one bed and a man who was, functionally, naked.
"All yours," he said, pleasant as anything.
You or the shower?
...
No.
NO. Absolutely not. Who said that? WHO SAID THAT?!
That was not a thought you had. That was a thought that wandered in off the street, uninvited, wearing shoes, and you were going to escort it back out and never speak of it again as long as you lived.
Twenty years old. Dean's list. A five-year plan laminated in your desk drawer. And your brain looks at a boy in a towel and comes back with that.
Pathetic. Genuinely, historically pathetic.
You did not need telling twice. You were off the bed and across the room and behind the bathroom door before he'd finished the sentence. Because if the alternative was standing three feet from Jeon Jungkook in a towel, you would take the lukewarm mercy of that shower and you would take it gladly.
You stayed in there way longer than strictly necessary. And you ran the lecture. Ran it again. You are a grown woman. You are a composed, functional, fully-in-command adult who does not come apart over damp freshman boys. Say it again. Say it like you mean it.
By the time you cut the water off you had almost sold it to yourself.
You emerged fortified. Armored. Ready to be normal.
And he was still in the towel.
Sprawled back against the headboard, with one knee up, thumbing through his phone like he had all night and not one stitch more clothing than when you'd left.
"You have got to be kidding me." You flapped a hand at the entire situation. "It's been twenty minutes. Why are you still—"
"Oh. My bad." He didn't even glance up. "Just scrolling and lost track of time"
"Put. On. Clothes. NOW."
"Yeah, yeah." He heaved a put-upon sigh, swung off the bed, and ambled to his bag, and you turned pointedly toward the wall to grant him a privacy he had done nothing to earn — and heard him mutter, "Hang on, lemme just—"
You chose that moment to mishear him and your head turned back for a millisecond.
And of course that’s when the towel dropped.
You caught it in the corner of your eye: the fabric hitting the floor, a flash of skin, and your entire nervous system flatlined.
"OH MY GOD, KOOK—" You whipped around to face the wall so fast you nearly retired your bad ankle for good, both hands slapping up over your eyes, heat rocketing straight up your neck. "Are you out of your — you cannot just — WARN a person—!!"
Behind you, Jungkook was making a sound you knew intimately. A sound that had haunted your entire adolescence.
He was wheezing. Cackling. Absolutely gone.
"Noona," he managed. "Why are you so jumpy?"
You risked a look through your fingers.
He was wearing shorts.
Gym shorts.
Which meant he had pulled them on while you were in the shower, wrapped the towel back over the top of them, and then sat on that bed for fifteen solid minutes pretending to scroll his phone, waiting for you to walk out so he could run this.
Premeditated. The whole thing. Start to finish.
He was folded over the foot of the bed now, one hand braced on his knee, laughing so hard he'd gone completely silent.
A decade. A decade of orchestrated pranks and you had walked straight into it again like it was your first damn day on Earth.
"You absolute piece of—" You seized the nearest projectile, which turned out to be the spare pillow, and launched it at his stupid howling head. He caught it one-handed without looking, which pissed you off even more. "I hate you! I have ALWAYS hated you! hope that car stays broken, I hope it gets WORSE, I hope the mechanic calls tomorrow and says the whole thing has to be put DOWN—"
"Careful." He was still catching his breath, one arm slung over the footboard. "Car stays dead, we stay here. Another night. Same room." His eyes flicked to the bed and back. "Same everything. And the last thing you want is to see me running out of clean clothes."
A beat.
"Or maybe you do."
The sound you made was not a word. It was several consonants colliding at speed, and you had to stop and physically reboot before language would come back online.
"You can't just — you cannot just DROP YOUR TOWEL, Jungkook, that is not a prank, that is a criminal—"
"You screamed." He wiped at his eyes. "Genuinely screamed. Over the possibility." And then, in the singsong you hated so much: "Don't tell me you were actually scared."
The laughter slowly tapered off, and something sharpened underneath it, and he tipped his head at you with a slow, dawning delight that was so much worse than the prank had been. "Hang on, though. You really freaked the fuck out," His mouth curved. "For a girl working this hard to look unbothered."
Oh, no.
Oh, you'd overplayed it. You'd screamed bloody murder over the mere POSSIBILITY of him being butt ass naked— in front of the same person who was a running list of every tell you'd ever had and would surely cash them in later. With interest. At the worst possible moment.
Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid.
You went for the blanket. It was all you had left. You snatched it off the bed and marched it to the chair, because rearranging bedding was, it turned out, the only weapon in your arsenal.
"This," you said, smoothing it down with considerably more violence than a blanket requires, "is where you’ll sleep. I'll be over here. We are going to be normal, and separate, and we are not going to make this weird."
Jungkook — shorts and nothing else, infuriatingly at ease — leaned a shoulder into the wall and watched you build your little fort with the fond patience of a man watching a kitten hiss at a mirror.
"You keep doing that," he observed.
"Doing what."
"Saying the rules out loud. Normal. Separate. Not weird." He gave a show of counting them off on damp fingers. "Bout the third time since we walked in, give or take. Who're you arguing with, noona? Because it's surely not me. I've barely opened my mouth."
You opened yours to fire back and came up empty, which was its own answer, and you both knew it.
"I'm immune to you," you said instead — flat and final. "Completely immune. I have known you since your stomach and your back touched. Whatever you think is happening here, it does not work on me."
Jungkook's brows rose, slow. And then he smiled — the exact smile of a man who'd just been handed the rope he fully intended to hang you with.
"Okay," he said easily.
"...Okay?"
"Yeah. Okay." He pushed off the wall. "Then me standing here's nothing." Step. "Me half-dressed and dripping on this floor's nothing." Step. "You said it, not me — you're immune. So none of this—" a lazy gesture at all of himself, "—does a single thing to you. Right?"
"...Right," you said, and it came out a half-register too high.
"Great." He crossed the last of the distance and braced one hand flat on the wall beside your head — caging you in without a single point of contact, just his bare arm and his heat and the slow drip of his hair — close enough that the damp warmth of him and the sheer fact of him wiped the rest of the room clean out of your skull. "Then you won't mind me proving it."
Your back met the wall. Your pulse was somewhere up in your throat. He wasn't even touching you and you'd lost the basic mechanics of breathing.
"That," you got out, "is not proving anything—"
And then, because your pride would sooner die on its feet than fold against a wall…
You laughed at him.
It came out thin, but it came out, and you watched it register — watched something in his face shift half a degree.
"God, you're good at this," you said. "You really are. The voice, the whole—" you flicked a hand at the arm braced beside your head, "—this. Somebody's been practicing."
Because that was what this was. That was what this HAD to be.
You knew this boy. Okay? You knew him.
Jungkook did not do depth.
He found the thing that got a rise out of you and he pulled it. Over and over. For years. And this? All of this? With the towel, the voice, the whole desert Casanova routine? Same skit. Bigger stage.
He'd figured out he could get to you.
Well. Obviously. You'd handed him the receipt in the truck, hadn't you?
And oh, he'd be so pleased with himself. For a week. Maybe two, if you were really something. And then he'd be eighteen and a freshman with an entire campus in front of him and you'd be that thing that happened in a motel in the middle of nowhere . A story. A notch. The best friend's sister he finally got.
And then holidays, because your parents had basically adopted him. Thanksgiving. Him popping in at Christmas. Sitting across your mother's table from him passing you the rolls.
Nope.
You would not survive that. Not from him. Not from HIM.
"You graduated high school ten minutes ago," you said, and made it light, made it cruel, because light and cruel was the only tone you could still hold. "One moment of weakness on a tow truck and you think you're — what, exactly? You've had a growth spurt and sprouted three lil mustache hairs and now we're doing this?" You shook your head at him, slow before scoffing. "Go to bed, Kook."
That, finally, did something.
He didn't laugh. The light thing went out of his face entirely, and what came up underneath it was so much older than you were braced for.
"That's the part you can't get past, huh? The picture you've got of me in your head." His head tilted. "How old am I in it?"
"That's a ridiculous question."
"Humor me."
"I'm not playing this game with you." You folded your arms, which was a mistake, and you knew it was a mistake while you were doing it, and you did it anyway. "What, you want a number?"
"Yeah."
The number that surfaced was fifteen. You did not say fifteen.
"'Cause you left." When he said it had no heat in it. Somehow that was worse. "I was sixteen. You came back twice. One of those times I wasn't even in the country."
"I went to school." It came out hot, and you let it. "That's not a thing that happened to you, Jungkook, that was me getting into a program six hundred miles from home and working my ass into the ground to stay in it. Don't stand there and make my whole life sound like something I did behind your back."
"I didn't say you did it to me." He hadn't moved. "I said you weren't there. Those aren't the same thing."
They weren't. You hated that they weren't.
"So everything you know about me came from Jay over FaceTime." He let that sit exactly one beat too long. "JungHyun never came back from Busan. Stayed out there, got his own place. You know that?"
"Oh," That was news to you. "When?"
"End of that summer." He said it like it was nothing. "I did my mom's shop books all last summer. Every night after close. Know that?"
You did not know that.
You had been in that house all summer. You had walked past him on that couch a dozen times. Said go home, Kook a dozen times. Stepped over his takeout containers a dozen times.
And not once — not ONE time — had you asked him where he'd been before he got there.
Oh.
Oh, that's not great.
"That's not the same as—"
"What do I wanna do with my life?"
You opened your mouth.
You got as far as the shape of a sentence. The first sound of one.
Then it fell apart in your mouth, because you didn't know. You had no idea. Not a clue, not a guess, not the vaguest edge of one.
You could list every prank that boy had ever pulled on you in chronological order, with dates, and you could not name one single thing he wanted out of his life.
Cool. Great. Really solid showing.
The AC rattled.
"Yeah," he said. "That's what I thought. And for the record it's software engineering. Developing games, maybe even do photography on the side."
That, honestly you could see. Jungkook was a whiz when it came to anything computer related. It still stung a little that you were finding out this way, after all this time.
"You never told me any of it," you said, and heard how weak it was on the way out. "Not once. You had a bunch of chances—"
"When?" It landed flat and fast. "You'd say go home, Kook, and I'd go home."
That shut you up.
"I'm not mad at you." And he wasn't, that was true enough, surprisingly. "I'm just saying you got a kid in your head and you like him there. He's safe." A shrug, one shoulder. "Shit's a lot easier if I'm still nine on your porch. Then none of this counts."
Your throat had gone tight.
"That's not—" you started, and had nowhere to take it.
"You think I'm playing." It came out quiet, with clarity filling his eyes. "That this is a game I’m running. You really think that, huh?" He let it sit. "Ok, let's do the other thing then. You said we'd talk. So let’s talk." His voice dropped, low and dark and horribly unhurried. "What happened in the truck, Y/N."
The floor dropped out of your stomach.
"I was there," he said. "You were there. Leaning against me. I felt every breath you took, right up until you stopped taking them right." His breath ghosted along your jaw and you had to lock down every muscle you owned. "And I barely touched you, Y/N. That's the part that’s killing you, isn't it? Half of what I did, I did to your clothes."
"Don't—"
"And you still came apart for me. Me. Not some other guy out there. But me." Not cruel. Not gloating. Just — sure, and unwilling to pretend otherwise. "In a moving tow truck. With a complete stranger one seat over. Biting down on my shoulder so you wouldn't give away how far gone you were, and I felt every second of it go through you." He pulled back just far enough to look at you, and the look was so much worse than the words.
" I've thought about it every minute since. The blissed out look on your face, god your face, with you cumming all over my lap. Do you have any idea how hard it was not to slip my hand down to just make sure I didn’t imagine it? I promise I had never been so hard in my life Y/N I swear to god. And then after all that — all of that—you sat there the whole rest of that ride like if you held still enough I'd forget it happened."
He sucked in a slow breath, steadying himself.
"I'm not gonna forget it happened."
You couldn't answer. You'd lost the ability somewhere back around I thought about it every minute since.
"And here's the thing I need you to hear." His voice dropped, even, not a hint of a smirk in it now. "I'm not throwing that in your face to win anything. I know you're embarrassed. I know it scared you. I was there, remember? And I felt you try to disappear the second it was over." A pause. "But I'm not gonna sit here and dance around it just so you feel better, either. So you can tell me all night long that it was the heat, that it didn't mean anything, that I'm still some kid you grew up around. Your mouth can say whatever it wants."
He held your eyes.
"But your body already answered the question. It clearly doesn't know how to lie to me. Its the one part of you that never learned to bluff—and it went and told me the truth."
And there it was. THERE it was. The exact thing about him that made you want to climb out of your own skin, reminding you as a heated breath grazing your cheek.
Everybody else got the best version of you. The girl with the plan. The schedule. The four-point argument. The five-year map. You were the one who had it TOGETHER—
And this boy looks at you and sees right through it all.
But you couldn't fold that easily, and you ignored the 2nd heartbeat you felt throbbing in between your legs.
He must have felt you go rigid, because he pushed off the wall and stepped back, giving you the room he'd spent five minutes taking away. Which was somehow worse. You could fight the wall. You had no idea what to do with him being considerate.
You used the space to get out from under it, putting the width of the bed between you like it was a trench.
"You don't know me as well as you think you do," you finally said — which was, even as it left your mouth, a coward's move, and both of you knew it.
"Sure." He dropped onto the edge of the mattress, elbows on his knees, entirely at home. "Say boo."
"What?"
"Say it. Out loud. To yourself."
"I'm not going to—"
"Because if I said it right now you'd hit that ceiling so hard Deb'd charge us for the light fixture."
"I would not—"
"Y/N. This morning a moth got in the car and you tried to leave through a closed window."
"That moth was the size of a hand—"
"It was the size of a moth." He was fighting a grin and losing. Then it faded, and he tipped his head, and his voice came down a register. "You got a temper that could level a building. You'll argue a thing into the ground before you admit you don't know. You did it about the Olympics. Got punch dumped on your head over table tennis—"
"You dumped it. That was you—"
"—and you can't tell anybody no." He kept going, mild, like he was reading off a grocery list and not disassembling you. "Your mom. Jay. Professors. Some stranger with a favor. You fold every time. God forbid somebody thinks less of you."
"That's not—"
"But you say no to me." He looked up. "Every fucking time. Never once backed down. Not ever."
Your heart was doing something violent behind your ribs.
"So." He rubbed the back of his neck, and you caught it — the tongue pushing into his cheek, quick, gone almost before it happened. "So maybe I'm the only one who gets the real thing. And maybe that's what's messing you up." A shrug. "Cause I've seen all of it. And I’m still here."
The air conditioner rattled. Somewhere outside, a car passed on the empty road.
"That's not—" Your voice cracked and you hated it. "You don't get to just— psychoanalyze me in a motel room, that is not—"
"I got a C in psych."
"Then stop—"
"I'm not psychoanalyzing you. I'm telling you I see you. Different thing." He hadn't raised his voice once. That was what was killing you. "I've been seeing you since the beginning , Y/N."
Everything stopped.
"Since I was a kid," he said again, quieter, like it cost him something to hand over. "That's what you keep dancing around. You think this is me trying to get you into bed because there's one and it's convenient? It's not. I've had feelings for you for years."
You forgot how to stand.
"You— you can't—"
"I can, actually. It's mine to say." He stood, slow, and dragged a hand back through his damp hair. "Why do you think I was at your house just about every day?"
"Because of Jay—"
"At first. Sure." He shook his head. "After that I came 'cause you were there."
"There’s no way—"
"Even if it was just to see you for few seconds in the hallway. Even when you were mean to me." A breath of a laugh, rueful. "Especially then. Which I probably need to unpack cause that’s another thing."
You couldn't get air.
"Last summer I let your mom feed me damn near fifty pounds of cookies just to stay in that living room." He looked at you. "You know good and well your moms cookies are decent but not fifty pounds decent. I've been standing right in front of you for years hoping you'd look up."
"Jungkook." Your eyes were stinging and you willed them, furiously, to stop. "You don't understand. It's not that I don't—" You caught it just before it got out. Too close to the edge. "There are reasons."
"Then give me the list." Almost fond. "You love a list. Shoot."
"Jay." First finger, jabbed into the air between you. "You are my little brother's best friend. If we did this, and it went bad—I am not blowing up my brother's whole life because you have a — a thing."
"Counter." Instant. "Jay's known since sophomore year."
"What?"
"Told me to say something or shut up about it forever. Called me insufferable." A shrug.
Your stomach turned over.
"Why do you think he had you drive with me across the country?" He almost smiled. "Kid's been playing chess since high school."
You lowered the finger slowly.
"...He set us up."
"He set us up. In a car he knew was one bad morning from dying." Almost admiring. "Next argument, noona, you've got that look like you've still got one."
You did. You scrambled for it.
"You know statistically—" you began.
"Oh, here we go."
"—statistically, relationships that start under conditions of, of situational stress and forced proximity have a significantly higher failure rate, there are studies—"
"Name one."
"...There are studies."
"You made that shit up." He said it so gently it was insulting. "You do this. You cite a study, and if I let it sit for four seconds you'll say the word 'longitudinal' and hope I fold."
How the hell did he know you were about to say that?
"Fine. Fine." Second finger, and your voice was climbing now, because you could feel the ground going. "What if it doesn't work? We do this, we crash and burn, and I've torched — everything. My family, our whole— " You sucked in a breath. "I would rather have you as this. This annoying constant in my life forever, than have you for like six months and lose you completely. Okay? There. That's the reason. Are you happy?"
—and then it was just out there. In the air. Raw and stupid and true.
No. No no no, put it back, you did not mean to say the real one—
His whole face changed.
"That's the most honest thing you've said all day," he said quietly, reverently almost."You'd rather have a piece of me forever than risk the whole thing."
"That's not—"
"You just told on yourself, Y/N." He took a step. "You wanna keep me."
"Stop—"
"You can't stand not knowing how it ends. So you'd kill this thing now, while it's still yours."
And then something in him gave, all at once.
"Hey." His voice was softer now. He ducked his head to catch your eyes, and waited until you actually looked at him. "I wanna keep you too."
You forgot how to breathe.
"And you know what else?" Another step, and you backed straight into the chair — his chair, the demilitarized zone you had built with your own two hands, which had lasted a grand total of ten minutes. "This could be the best thing that ever happened to you. And you'll never know. 'Cause not knowing scares you less than it working."
"That's not—"
"It is." Flat, his voice left no room for argument. "If it works you don't get to steer. And that's the part that terrifies you the most."
You had nothing.
So you reached for the one weapon you had left. The one you'd been swinging since the day he grew taller than you.
"You're a kid." You hauled your chin up, pride dragging itself off the mat for one last round. "To me. I'm older than you, I've got years of school on you — I need a man, Jungkook, not a boy who thinks a smirk and a good jawline count as a personality—"
The second it left your mouth you knew you'd made a mistake.
Because Jungkook didn't flinch. Didn't get hurt. His eyes sharpened, slow, the way they did right before he took a dare he had no intention of losing, and you realized too late that you hadn't insulted him.
You'd challenged him.
"A man," he repeated, turning the word over like he liked the taste of it.
"Kook—"
"'A good jawline.'" His brows went up. "That's pretty specific. You didn't even have to reach for it."
"It's a figure of speech—"
"It's an inventory." He was almost delighted. "You got a list of everything wrong with me, and every single thing on it is something you've clearly spent time looking at."
"Jungkook—"
"Alright. Run today back for me." And the humor dropped out of him all at once as he stepped in, the last of the space between you evaporating. "Who talked the mechanic down?"
"Kook—"
"Who got the room? Who carried your ass up the road in a hundred degrees 'cause you were too proud to sit down and wait?" His voice went even and low, walking you backward away from the chair one word at a time. "You've been falling apart since this morning, noona. Every time — I caught it." A beat. "I caught you."
The backs of your knees hit the edge of the desk.
"Two years." He almost laughed, and there it was again, quick as a flicker — his tongue pressing into his cheek, and you knew you were never a true contender in this fight. "You think two years is what's stopping this?"
"It's not just—"
"That's not what this is and you know it." His hand came up, slow, giving you every chance to slap it away, and cradled the side of your face. "I've been enough for you all day. You've felt it every time I put my hands on you." His thumb moved once. "That's what's got you spooked. Not that I'm too young." A beat, quiet and lethal. "That I'm exactly enough."
"That's not fair," you whispered.
"I know." His thumb dragged along your cheekbone and your eyes very nearly fell shut. "Been fair for years. I'm done."
"Kook—"
"And I don't want you to just want me. I already know you do — that's been obvious since I picked you up off that road." A ghost of the smirk, then gone. "So when are you gonna quit lying to yourself and put us both out of our misery?"
"That's not—"
"Tell me to stop." His mouth was a breath from yours now, his other hand finding that home at the small of your back and pulling you flush, and you felt every place your body met his light up like a live wire. "One word. You use it on me better than anybody." His voice went low. "Say it and I go to sleep in that chair or the floor or wherever the hell you think I belong and we never talk about today again."
You opened your mouth.
The word wasn't there.
For the first time in your entire life — standing in a motel room that smelled like industrial carpet cleaner, with a ruined ankle and your whole meticulous defense in pieces at your feet — you looked at Jungkook, really looked, the way you'd forbidden yourself to for years, and you could not find a single noanywhere in you.
But even with this, your pride held on like Jack from Titanic held on in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Before letting go and freezing to death.
"Okay." Your chin stayed stubbornly up even as your voice went uneven. “So what if I feel something for you? That doesn't mean it has to be anything, ok? It doesn't have to turn into some whole—"
He kissed you.
Cut the sentence off clean, one hand sliding into your damp hair to angle your head exactly where he wanted it, and then he drew back just far enough to speak against your mouth, close enough that you felt every word land.
"No." He said it low. Certain and final. "It could be everything.Everything you've ever wanted." His nose dragged along yours. "In fact — I know it is. So stop trying to fight it." His hand fisted at the small of your back and pulled you flush against him. "When I know you want this just as much as I do."
And then his mouth was back on yours before you could get one word of argument out, and the rest of it dissolved against his lips.
It was nothing like the two or three times you'd let yourself imagine it before shaking the thought loose. It was better and it was worse — worse because now you would know, now you could never go back to not knowing. This kiss started slow, almost unbearably unhurried, like even now he was leaving you room to change your mind — and then your arms curled around his neck to drag him closer instead of shoving him away, and whatever restraint he'd been holding onto all day snapped clean in half.
His hand fisted into your damp hair to tilt your head and deepen it until you'd forgotten there had ever been an argument to lose, and the other splayed hot and possessive at the small of your back, before slipping down to your thigh and lifting you up one handed onto the desk.
His weight settled in between your open legs you like it had always belonged there, and you arched up into it before your pride could get a single word in — and the low, wrecked sound he made against your mouth at that, at you finally giving instead of fighting, undid you faster than anything he'd said all night.
He dragged his mouth off yours and along the line of your jaw, down the column of your throat, and whatever you had been about to say evaporated somewhere between your brain and your mouth and did not come back.
You made a sound instead.
The same sound. The one from the truck, the one you'd bitten into his shoulder to smother — and you felt him register it exactly the way he had the first time. That half-second stillness. Then the slow curve of his mouth against your skin.
"Oh," he murmured, delighted. "So you got nothing to say now, do you? Now that I've got my hands on you again."
Your face went up in flames.
"I have plenty—"
"Mm-hm."
"—to say, I just don't happen to—" Your voice failed somewhere in the middle of it, because he'd chosen that exact moment to press his mouth just under your ear, and the rest of the sentence collapsed into nothing.
He laughed against your throat. You felt it everywhere.
"That's okay." Low, and warm, and so unbearably fond that it did more damage than any of it. "You don't have to say anything else but my name, pretty girl."
Absolutely not.
You had spent years not giving this boy the satisfaction of unnerving you and you were not about to start now, so you did what you always did. You shoved at his shoulder. You got a hand up between you. You told him, with what was left of your dignity, that he was insufferable and smug and that he could get off you right this second.
He didn't move.
He let you push. He let you get the whole performance out, patient and unbothered, one brow raised like he was waiting politely for you to finish. And then he caught your wrist, drew it up and pressed his mouth to the inside of it, and you felt the fight go out of you all at once.
"You done?" he asked.
You were done.
"Kook."
"There she is." His eyes closed for a second — actual relief, like he'd been holding his breath for years. "One more time."
"Jungkook."
And that did it. His hands found the hem of your shirt and yours found bare skin, the warm cut of his waist, the last scraps of who's-winning and who's-in-control burning off somewhere between one breath and the next.
You'd spent so long bracing against him, sure that giving in would feel like losing.
It turned out it felt nothing like losing at all.
You couldn't help the shudder that coursed through you when Jungkook found your neck again, only this time instead of peppered kisses, he nipped you right behind your jaw and sucked, god help it, you keened.
You felt him freeze, before doing it again to the other side and you were already falling apart. You had no idea how you were going to survive when once again he was barely touching you.
"Noona, you and these noises," he breathed against you, sliding his hands down until they laid flat on the desk on either side of you, still caging you in but giving you both a moment. "I'm not going to lie, its taking every thing in me right now not to take you right here on this desk. But…I'm not moving faster than what you are comfortable with. We can take this as slow as you need. I don't want you to think that this is all its gonna be. I was serious when I said I want to keep you too. I want to do this right. You deserve that. We can stop here if you want. It might kill me a little but—"
"—Who said I wanted to stop?" You had been half listening, still in a Jungkook induced haze but when the words we can stop here if you want registered, something in you woke up just for that moment and ran out in oncoming traffic.
Jungkook for his part was momentarily gobsmacked before it finally clicked that you had given him a green light.
And then, the whole world shifted as he pounced.
His lips crushed against yours and you felt it down to your toes, before his hands fell to your hips and scooted you to the edge of the desk so effortlessly you gasped against his lips, and then you felt him hard and pulsing against your thigh. When he pulled away he groaned at the feel of you, rolling his hips helplessly.
"Thank god, cause I really didn't know how I was going to make it through the night, knowing that you would be sleeping in that bed, aching and wet and not doing a damn thing about it."
"Well now you can." You replied egging him on, his words fully activating your horny lizard brain that had been waiting for its time to shine. "So what are you gonna to do about it?"
His chuckle was downright wicked as one of his hand worked its up under your shirt and took hold of one of your breasts, his thumb sweeping back and forth over the hardened nipple through your bra, coaxing a surprised gasp.
"Do you want me to tell you or show you? Or both? I'm pretty good at multitasking."
You whimpered in response.
"Both? Ok I got you. Put your arms around me for a moment sweetheart." His tone left no room for argument and you immediately did what you were told. He lifted you for only two seconds and boom your shorts were tossed clear across the room. "Oh fuck…." he moaned and you pulled away to see what it was that had him sounding so wrecked only to see him hungrily eyeing you between your legs.
"Noona," he breathed, mesmerized by the sight. "You are fucking soaked, look at you. So wet I can smell it….fuck that is so hot. Can't believe this is all for me."
You knew he'd be a menace but there was nothing that could've prepared you for how needy he'd sound at just the sight of your wet panties, and you felt another pull in your core at his perusal of it.
"Jungkook, please." You were reduced to two word sentences now, your hands sliding up and down his back.
"Yes, pretty girl I'll take care of you. Do me a favor though and take this off." he instructed, tugging at your shirt. You wasted no time in removing it, your skin already itching for it to come off—and without him asking you reached behind and undid your bra, tossing it along with your shirt. His eyes darkened as he took you in, zoning in on your breasts and peaked nipples, screaming for his touch. "I didn't even have to ask, good girl."
He then bent down to take one nipple in his mouth, alternating between sucking, and flicking it with his tongue and you arched with a sound so high pitched it was mostly air as it escaped through your parted lips. You barely had time to take another breath before his other hand found its way to your parted legs, his thumb pressing the seam of of you through your panties, before pushing your panties to the side and sliding his fingers in between your sodden folds, to which he audibly groaned.
"Fuck Y/N, its just dripping out of you." He hissed, mouth coming off your breast to look at his hand and then instantly switching over to the the other breast, eyes closing as he savored the taste of you there, too. "How did you know that I wanted to suck on these pretty tits and play with this wet pussy, hm?"
His mouth was atrocious and you found that you loved every second of it.
"I still can't stop thinking about you in the truck, noona. I'm never gonna get over it. Knowing that you were this wet, so desperate to come that all it took for you was me rubbing the seam of your jeans over this fat little clit you got right here." He said this right as he pressed directly on your clit, and this time you did cry out because finally, finally his hand was right were you needed him the most.
"Oh my god Jungkook fuck…that's so good…yesss."It came out of you in a choked moan as he continued to circle your clit, dipping down every so often to your entrance to wet the tip of his thumb before circling it again and again.
"You want my fingers noona? Or do you want my tongue?"
Your lizard brain was fully in control at this point.
"I want your dick. In me, NOW."
At this he laughed.
"Nope, not ready yet." You groaned, starting to get pissed off.
"Dammit Kook, why the fuck are you doing this to meeee"
At this he lightly slapped your pussy, not enough to hurt but it jolted you all the same.
"After all the shit you've put me through over the years? Nah, I'm taking my time to enjoy this."
You almost cried when you felt his fingers leave your folds, only to find yourself in the air as he swiftly lifted you up, your legs crossing around his waist as he walked you both back to the bed, before laying you on your back and crawling up over you. Two seconds later your panties were a long lost memory as he yanked them down your legs and tossed them across the room. Your legs being opened by his blazing palms were the only warning you got before his hand was in between your legs.
"You never answered my question noona—fingers or tongue?"
You were reduced to whimpers again, but this time Jungkook was pretty fluent with your noises.
"Both?" He grinned, wickedly "Ok, I got you."
And then that's when you died.
Actually died, because next thing you knew his head was between your legs, and he breathed you in before curving the flat of his tongue up against the underside of your clit before ending with a flick. And then, then as if that wasn't enough to kill you, he slid not one but two fingers inside of you, pumping them in time with his tongue flicking.
"Mmm," he groaned in between flicks and sucking around your clit, utterly transfixed by the feel and taste of you, "You taste so fucking good noona. And you take my fingers so well. You're doing so good for me. Might just let you come like this. You want that? Hmm?"
You braved a look down at his words, and the sight that met you was so filthy, his big eyes meeting yours, entirely fucked out and devouring you—and absolutely enjoying every second of it. Your legs were beginning to shake and you knew it wouldn't be long.
"Kook—I-I—"
"—Yes y/n, that's it"
"I'm sooo close , its really close…!" you gasped as you felt the tingle in the base of your spine, and the pull on your abdomen taking its mark.
"You can do it baby, give it to me again, I want it all."
And then he said the thing that would ruin you forever to anyone and anything else:
"You deserve it."
When it finally hit, it rushed through you like a wildfire and you cried out brokenly, legs flying up and out as wave after wave hit you, your core clenching so tight around his fingers he gasped at the feel of it. You vaguely registered a shocked, Oh shit….fuck noona. Oh my god. but you were still drifting through another dimension and didn't realized it had come from Jungkook. When you finally started to get your lungs working right, you blindly reached around for Jungkook's head, fully intending to thread your fingers through his hair as your mute form of thanks for what had to have been, hands down, the best orgasm of your life. Only to find, when your hand reached him, his hair completely soaked.
What the fuck?
You propped yourself up on your shoulders to get a better look, only to quickly cover your mouth in shock.
Jungook was still as a statue, his eyes glazed over, and entirely drenched. Like he had dunked his head in a pool of water and had just come up for air.
"Jungkook—?" you squeaked, suddenly afraid you had broken him, because he still wasn't moving.
"Y/N"
"Yes…?" He finally moved, but only slightly as he tilted his head with a look of disbelief.
"Did that just happen?" He looked down at his hands, that were entirely coated with your slick and he groaned, so deeply you felt it vibrate throughout your body. "Fuck, it did, it really did. Y/N you fucking squirted all over me."
You were mortified.
"Oh my god Kook, I'm so sorry! I didn't know—that's never happened before I-I'm so—"
"—Now why the fuck are you apologizing Y/n?" Jungkook looked at you full on and that's when it registered, and you appraised the hunger in his eyes as they swept over your body. "Don't you dare apologize, that was hottest fucking thing I've ever seen in my life."
And he was on you in an instant, his hand grabbing your chin with his palm on your neck, lips finding yours once again.
"You were so fucking beautiful, coming apart for me like that. You did so good,"
He took his weight off you for a moment only to tug on his shorts, pulling them halfway down before kicking them the rest of the way off, and you heard it, the heavy sounding smack against skin before you saw it. He hadn't been wearing boxers and his manhood sprung straight to attention once the shorts came off, and you audibly gasped.
Holy shit, its huge!
Jungkook's laugh cut though your thoughts.
"Thanks noona, I grew it myself."
Oh shit, you said it out loud. Again.
"Shut the fuck up Kook." Your cheeks blazed and wasn't just from the afterglow.
Laughing, he climbed over you again, and you moaned at the feel of him, hot and heavy between your legs.
He groaned at the feel of you too before dropping his head down to your shoulder.
"Dammit, I didn't think about protection. Fuck."
"Kook, we're fine. Im clean and I'm on birth control."
He instantly shot up.
"You're on the pill??
"No, IUD, just put it in last year—good for five.
"Oh damn, ok yeah Im good too, I can show you my mychart if you want—"
"—You know good and well you are not about to get up from between my legs to show me a mychart Kook. I trust you."
At this he looked at you again, the gaze sweeping over turning fond for a moment.
"You look so beautiful like this you know," He brushed the hair off of your sweat slicked face. "How did I get so lucky."
You inwardly preened at his praise, breath catching as the moment passed through both of you.
I'm the lucky one
And then you couldn't help but arch up underneath him again as you felt the pulse coming back between your legs and the weight of him there making you lightheaded. You rolled your hips against him, fingers curving into his back.
That pulled a strangled groan out of him and he quickly thrust back against your heat.
"You said I wasn't ready earlier." You mentioned, suddenly feeling a little anxious at the size of him and putting two and two together. "Do you think we need any thing—"
He cut you off as he reached down in between your legs, before sliding his fingers into you once more, pumping only a couple times before grinding his palm against you. Then without warning, he pulled his hand away and slapped it down on your belly, and slid it down, your slick covering the entire expanse of your abdomen, with residue still shining on his wrist. Your jaw dropped as he pinned you with a hooded look that had you quaking.
"We don't need anything love. I know I'll slide right in. Easy. You can take it."
Fuck if that wasn't the hottest thing you had ever seen/heard. You clenched at the thought of him inside of you and nerves started melting away.
"And you will take it. Inch by inch. Its yours. You ready for it now noona? You ready to take this dick inside of you?"
He rolled into you again and your eyes rolled back at the feel of him, teasing your clit with the head, as the rest of him slid through your parted folds.
"Yes, Kook please, yes let me have it. I wanna feel you inside of me."
"Then you can have it."
And with that he pulled back just enough to line himself up before slowly pushing forward and finally, finally sinking into you.
You both groaned simultaneously at the feel of him sliding into you inch by inch— and he was right, you were still so wet that he was able to slide all the way without hesitation.
"Oh my godddd." You moaned at the thick feel of him, finally inside, and you already felt your walls fluttering at the fullness.
"Mmmm, I knew you'd be able to take me in one go. Good girl." He took a moment to catch his breath as he dropped his head into the crook of your neck "You feel so fucking goody/n, I'm trying so hard not to lose it. Give me just a minute and then I can give us both what we need."
"O-ok." You let out a shuddering breath, smoothing your palms against his back.
A moment passed and then you felt it— a quick pulse of his hips. And you knew that was only the warning shot.
Because then he pulled back all the way, and then slammed back into you with a trust so powerful you slid six inches up the bed.
"Oh shit!" It came out of you automatically, because it all it took was one thrust and you were effectively ruined to all other men for life, because this was it. "Oh fuck…Kook oh my goddd…!"
Jungkook was equally affected, mouth dropped open in awe as he watched himself sliding in and out of you.
"Goddamn baby, you feel insane around my dick—how does it feel for you?" He hissed as he leaned over you pressing a breathless kiss just behind your ear.
Words were failing you, there's no way he expected you to respond verbally—not when he was now pounding you down in the bed, the smack of your bodies meeting amplified by the slick smeared in between your legs and up over your lower stomach.
You whimpered once more, because it was too good for words.
"Speechless again huh?" He rasped against you ear. "Don't hold back now. You finally got me where you wanted me earlier when all you could do was moan into my shoulder while your pussy clenched around nothing, wishing it could be filled up instead."
Your legs tightened in response to his words, and a strangled moan broke lose when suddenly he rolled his hips, grinding his pelvis so it caught the underside of your clit with each pass.
Omg this might just do it for me!
You felt utterly feral, and probably was drooling at this point but you didn't care one bit cause the way it was building up had you shaking in your legs. But right when you felt like you would tumble into a another orgasm, Jungkook suddenly yanked you up from under him before flipping on his back, lifting you up over him.
"Whaaaa, Kook what—"
He looked completely fucked out as he stared you down and you clenched around nothing.
"I want you to sit on it. And take this dick just how you want it." You blinked owlishly at him, stunned. "Now. Please…I need you to sit on it. Don't make me beg cause I will at this point."
He didn't have to tell you twice.
Within seconds you were lining him up before dropping back down and you both cried out. He felt even deeper at this angle and you feel yourself getting right back to where you left off, rolling your hips over him as you leaned forward slightly, locking eyes with him.
As much as you loved Jungkook putting you damn near through the mattress, you found yourself enthralled by how he looked underneath you, his hands gripping your hips so tightly that he would surely leave marks. He would helplessly let go of a hip to reach up and fondle one of your breasts, tugging and pulling on your nipple before grabbing your hips again and meeting your rotations with one of his own.
And it was this that finally pushed you closer to the edge, your hips erratically sliding back and forth as you felt your orgasm approaching like a freight truck.
"Yes, that's it pretty girl," Jungkook groaned underneath you, eyes blown out and dark as he watched you swirl your hips over him in quick circles. "Take what you need and cum all over me again, yes take it all it's yours"
That finally does it and you explode around him with a cry so forceful it's nearly a scream, before elongating into a broken moan, completely losing it over him as your entire body shook, legs jerking out to the side.
You were crying, you knew you were because that was the most incredible thing you had ever felt —on top of already experiencing another incredible orgasm, in the same day.
Jungkook talks you through it, praising you, telling you did amazing and felt incredible around him. Once you felt your senses come back, you found yourself flipped on your back again.
"You are so fucking incredible y/n, the way you came apart on top me …I will never forget it." He moaned it into your neck, his pumps now erratic as he was getting close. "Please, Im so close Y/N, I need to come inside inside you, can I? Please let me—"
"—Yes Kook yes, please cum inside me," You moan into his ear and he shudders at the sound of it. "Please fill me up, I need it, you fill me up so good I need it all."
"Oh fuck…o-oh fuck, Y/N shit I'm about to—"
With one last thrust his back locked in place as he finally released inside of you with a broken groan, pulsing hot over and over and you shivered as you felt him helplessly roll one last time into you before collapsing on top of you. His hand found yours after a moment, capturing it in his, his face still buried in between you breasts.
You stayed like that for a several moments, completely blissed out.
And then he finally opened his mouth.
"Knew it." It was all he said at first.
"Knew what?"
"That I was man enough you." He let it settle, and you found the fight had been effectively fucked out of you.
"Also," he continued. "That Deb had good instincts."
The responding smack to his chest from you happened so fast it didn't even register until you felt the sting of your own hand.
Well, maybe you still had a just a little fight left in you.
———
Later — much later, the AC still rattling, his heartbeat slowing under your ear — the entire room lit up.
Jungkook's phone was going off on the nightstand, buzzing against the wood like a hornet in a jar.
You both looked at it.
JAY — and underneath, the four most terrifying words in the English language: would like to FaceTime.
What happened next could not fairly be described as a decision. It was closer to what happens when somebody drops a pan of hot grease.
You went off the side of the bed. Not gracefully. You took the entire comforter with you and landed in the gap between the mattress and the wall with a thud that rattled the lamp, and your ankle informed you, immediately and at volume, that this had been a poor choice.
"Do not answer that," you hissed from the floor.
"If I don't answer he calls your mom."
He had a point. Your brother had exactly one setting.
"Then fix your face."
"What's wrong with my face—"
"You look like—" you gestured wildly at the entirety of him from your position on the carpet, "—that!"
He accepted the call.
"KOOK." Your brother's voice filled the room at a volume that suggested he had never once in his life considered that other people might be asleep. "Bro. Where are you guys, I've been texting since six—"
"Car died." Jungkook's voice had gone flat and bored and faintly put-upon, and you had to admit, from the floor, that it was a stunning piece of work. "We're in some town. Motel."
"A motel."
"Yeah."
A pause.
"...Both of you?"
You stopped breathing.
"We had to sleep somewhere," Jungkook said.
"...Right." A beat. "And what's wrong with the car?"
"Battery." A pause. "Just needed a jump, probably."
And that — that — was the thing that got you. Because it did not just need a jump. A jump would turn it over and it would not hold, the man had said so himself, that was the entire reason you were STRANDED here overnight instead of miles down the road, and something utterly beyond your control took the wheel.
"It does not just need a jump, the cells are shot, that's why we're—" You heard yourself. You closed your mouth. Too late. From the floor. Out loud.
The silence that followed had a physical weight to it.
Jungkook slowly, slowly looked down over the edge of the bed at you with an expression of such profound disbelief that you wanted to die.
"...Was that my sister?" said Jay.
"No."
"That was absolutely my sister — in your room."
"It's the TV."
"Kook, it is two in the morning."
"It's a late show."
"Put her on."
And so you surfaced — hair a catastrophe, comforter clutched to your chest, arranging your features into what you desperately hoped read as a woman who has been asleep in her own separate bed, alone, for hours, and not a woman who had all of her flabbers thoroughly gasted by the man next to her.
"Hi," you said.
"Hi," said your brother.
There was a long pause.
"So the car should be ready around ten," you offered.
"Uh huh."
"...Ten-thirty at the latest."
"Uh huh." And Jay had gone quiet in a way your brother had never once gone quiet in his life. You watched it arrive on his face in stages, like a raincloud coming over a hill. "Cool," he said. "Cool cool cool."
"Jay—"
"No, it's—" Your brother's face was attempting several expressions at once, none of which were compatible with the others. "It's good. This is good. I'm good. Yep."
"Jay."
"I told him to say something." It came out strangled. "Years ago. I told him that, I said—"
"Okay, so then—"
"—I didn't think he'd actually do it!" He had passed straight through betrayal and come out somewhere near hysteria. "Four years! Four years of you doing absolutely nothing! That was just how it was, that was the one thing I could count on—"
"Not anymore," Jungkook said.
"DON'T SAY IT LIKE THAT."
"Jay, keep your voice—"
"And you." The camera swung back to you, and your brother stared at you like a man who had come home to find his furniture rearranged. "You. You called him a gremlin. At Christmas. In front of Mom."
"That was—"
"He ate an entire pie at that table and you called him a gremlin, and now I'm supposed to—" He stopped. He put both hands over his face and held them there. You could hear him breathing.
Jungkook, beside you, had gone very still, and when you glanced over you found that the smugness was entirely gone. He was watching that screen like the answer actually mattered to him.
Then your brother dropped his hands. Squared his shoulders. And looked at the pair of you with the grim, hollow-eyed resolve of a man being wheeled into surgery.
"Okay," he said. "Okay. I love you both. I support this completely. And I am never going to think about it again for as long as I live."
"Jay—"
"Goodnight."
He hung up on you.
Three seconds later the phone buzzed. Then buzzed again. Then a third time.
And then, after a longer pause, one more:
Jungkook read that one twice. Something in his shoulders came down about an inch.
"Yeah," he said, mostly to himself, and typed something back you didn't get to see.
Then he set the phone down and looked at you.
And caught it — whatever your face was doing. That flicker. The old reflex, the one that had run all day: this is the part where it goes wrong. Jay knowing made it real, and real was the thing that had scared you from the jump.
“Hey.” He hooked a finger under your chin, tipped it up, waited until you actually looked at him. “I know that face. Quit it.”
“I’m not doing a face.”
“Yes you are.” His thumb moved once along your jaw, and the smirk went out of him. “You are freaking out and trying to act like you aren't, which we both know you're terrible at. Your brother knows… and the sun’s still coming up, and I’m still gonna be here in the morning reminding you that this happened.” His voice dropped to something quieterw. “I told you. I’m keeping you. That wasn’t a tonight thing.”
Your throat did something complicated.
“…Okay,” you managed.
“Okay.” He kissed your forehead, so gentle it nearly undid you worse than anything else all night. “Now go to sleep. We’ve got a four-hundred-mile drive tomorrow and you’re gonna be a nightmare if you don’t.”
This mother fucker.
“I’m gonna be a nightmare?" You pulled back to look at him. “Yeah ok. That is genuinely rich, coming from the doofus who broke the car.”
“I didn’t break the car, the battery—”
“—Come on you KNEW about the battery—”
“—and I fixed the battery—”
“You did NOT fix the battery, there’s a man in a garage fixing the battery, you jumped it and lied about it and drove me into a desert—”
“Okay, you gotta stop bringing up the desert, we’ve been over the desert—”
“I will bring up being in this damn desert every single day for the rest of your natural life,” you informed him, and something about the words landed on both of you at the same time — the rest of your life — and you watched him clock it, watched the slow grin start, and felt your own face go hot.
“Yeah?” he said, insufferable, delighted, already impossible. “The rest of my life, huh?”
“That’s not— you know what I meant—”
“No, no. Say it again. For the record.”
“Goodnight, Jungkook.”
“You’re keeping me too,” he said, smug into your hair as he pulled you down against him, and you did not dignify it with a response.
But you didn’t move away, either.
And in the morning, the car would be fixed, and you’d fight about who was driving the whole way back.
Some things weren’t ever going to change.
Thank God.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Bonus:
Bonus 2:
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
A/N: and that’s it y’all! now that thats out of my system i need a nap 😴 and then we can go back to Jungkook being the lil bun bun that he normally is instead of this menace 🥴
thank you for reading and all the support! More fics coming including a Hoseok x reader series fic I’m SUPER excited about 🤩
Cosplay PSA for Pantheon Cosplayers because I have a feeling this is gonna be a lot of yall's first time cosplaying semi nude charecters and we gotta go over some things for health and safety + some general fandom and artist points.
I am classing perceived nudity as something which looks nude but isn't (muscle suits, fake nips, mesh tops.) Please keep in mind that perceived nudity often falls under the same visual catatory as actual nudity because y'know. Its perceived. Never assume a rule doesn't apply just because the tits are fake. With that being said...
Check TOS! This goes for conventions, social media and discord servers. Some conventions allow partial nudity as long as nips are covered, others don't even allow crop tops. Even if a convention allows perceived nudity, remember to account for what you are comfortable wearing in public if you are getting public transport / walking to the convention. Especially check if the convention is in a different country as local norms may be different, looking at you TwitchCon. Social media is always a finicky beast so keep that in mind when posting, especially if your content is monetised. Discord servers also have different rules for sharing perceived and real nudity, remember 18+ does not automatically mean nothing is off limits!
Remember your age! Under 18s, please be mindful when cosplaying these charecters. Over 18s, please remember to be mindful in family friendy areas and remember to remind under 18s who dont know better the risks of cosplaying suggestive charecters. I am mainly talking conventions because it's important to curate online experiences and 18+ servers exsist for a reason.
Cosplayer =/= charecter! We are all simping for these designs but remember to be respectful when interacting with other cosplayers and remember that cosplay is not consent! Furthermore if there are any cannon relationships in Pantheon, you re not automatically entitled to that dynamic with another cosplayer just because you are cosplaying that duo. I'm going to tap the remember your age sign again, if an adult is cosplaying and starts their videos with "Minors DNI" please respect this. Same goes for no body comments.
Respect other people's preferences! The bar for what does and doesn't class as suggestive content is going to get VERY low and murky during this SMP. Everyone has different standards on what they class as suggestive, some see it as any amount of skin and others don't class something as suggestive unless it's hardcore DDDNE. My bias for example is I am classing anything a family convention would class as suggestive so yall may not agree with that. At an absolute minimum, if you are uncomfortable with semi nude cosplay content, don't look it up. If you are talking to someone and they say they're uncomfortable with the conversation, back off. TLDR we can navigate this without slut shaming and without ignoring the boundaries of cosplayers and artists.
Additionally, CC's deciding to make a semi nude charecter doesn't immediately bless NSFW cosplay content if they previously have stood against it. Its pretty easy to get a vibe from a CC of how receptive they are - some have been very encouraging of the "OH MY GOD THEY'RE HOT" comments while others haven't - so be mindful and read the room in comment sections and live chats.
PLEASE BIND SAFELY. This is going for trans cosplayers as well as cis ones. If you are looking into getting a binder for a cosplay, please research reputable brands and check the reviews. Specifically cis cosplayers, I don't know who needs to hear this but it is okay to look up advice for trans men when doing research. You're not intruding or appropriating, you are protecting your ribs. Same goes for muscle suits and fake chests, always check if you are allergic to latex or rubber, pick a size that allows you to breath and take breaks. Research thoroughly for trans tape too. There's not many corsets in these designs but binding practices also apply to corsets. Get one that fits and don't tight lace to the point of discomfort.
I'm going to give bandage binding it's own number so it doesn't get lost. Binding with bandages or general strips of material is general unsafe because many pull it way too tight to get chests as flat as possible. It does not matter if your chest isn't a table's flatness, even cis men's chest aren't ESPECIALLY bodybuilder types like seen in Pantheon. You can absolutely use bandages as a way to cover the chest but please remember it is for decoration and shouldn't be the only support you have. Wearing a skin coloured crop top underneath and LOOSELY wrapping bandages is the way to go. Don't be fooled into thinking stretch bandages are safer because they "mould around the skin", its specifically the stretch that carries the risk of not allowing breathing.
Do not use sharpies for tattoos. On the cheap I reccomend face paint, brushing with setting powder and then shit tons of setting spray. On the expensive I reccomend 4 way stretch power mesh in a skin tone and paint on that. You can buy bodysuits made from this and they blend into the skin really well for things like tattoos and body hair. In general though if it rubs off, so be it. Not worth alchohol poisoning.
Do a shake test before going to cons! You never know what will break, snag or come off during the day and if your whole dignity relies on one tiny string, it's going to fail and flash everyone. Run around in your cosplay, shake, like properly flail all your limbs and see what breaks first and needs more attention.
Don't be scared to adapt a cosplay to make it more modest! Cannon accuracy is not the be all and end all and the minecraft community thrives on its re interpretations, so get creative! Example, I'm planning a Legs cosplay but I don't want my entire chest out so I'll be making some adjustments! Additionally, don't shame anyone for not being cannon especially if it ties to covering up. It's not cool and in the context of cleavage it's actually really creepy to request it.
At the end of the day, we are all excited for this SMP and excited for the creativity that will follow. Its very important that we look after each other, look after ourselves and avoid getting into trouble for public indecency.
This list is also not the be all and end all. I am one person with my own biases and I intend for this to start a conversation, not define it. As I said my biases are defined by my experiences at conventions as both a minor and now and adult. There's a lot of conversations which define this one, and while I'd like to avoid engaging in discourse, please share your thoughts! Discussion is how we learn and work out the best courses of action.
Finally, the debate on nudity in public spaces will continue as it always has. We all have different interpretations and beliefs and it's important to remember the divisiveness and layers of the subject when approaching it. No one is immediately evil incarnate and everyone has the potential to have misguided views based on the world we live in, including me, including you.
That means that once more I get to shamelessly self promo to my heart content without being embarrassed about it!!!!
So with the great Technoblade as my guide its SELL OUT TIME!!!
These are my fics!!
Lovers Left Behind is an angsty short two book series about Squidcraft 3 Quacknap
greedy, so much sugar makes your teeth rot is a C!Quackwastaken hypno fic
Childhood Treat is a CC!Quackwastaken omegaverse comfort fic
Give them a read!
@rat-creates is my art blog!! Go look at my art it's all going to be pinned to the fridge because its amazing >:]
I run an account of fanfic reccomendations! Consider dropping one of your favourite fics (or your own) in our donation box over at @rat-community-library as a birthday present to me! (Please. Someone didn't make a good backlog so we are. A little short. Help)
Or even better, make a comment on that fic to show that author how much you love it, specially if its an older fic!!!
And lastly, I now sell my own stickers!!! Check them out in my Kofi here!!!
(*cough* Im so fucking sorry about the shipping delay I promise Im working on it Im gonna give yall a extra surprise for the patience im so sorry *cough*)
Thank you so much for everyone here!!! When I was younger I genuinely never thought I would grow to be this old (tho Im still very young) and I cannot explain how trully blessed I am to have met everyone. Love you!!!
Idk if this is an expression in other languages but ib portuguese theres, this thing about 22 being "two ducks in a pond" and it makes unreasonable happy about being 22 now. For a whole year I'll two ducks in a pond!!!!
(waggles my fingers like that one peabody and sherman clip) you’d LOVE to make it slightly angsty and fluffy, wouldn’t you squidward
(pretty please :3 id LOVE some more ftm!reader stuff for my fellow readers and stuffs and sadly i dont see as much as i would hope :< But! only do it if yall feel comfy!! <D have an awesome day gangy!)
Elektron A/N: Hello! This request was very fun for Edward and I to write, mainly Edward though— I really just helped clean some things up, as well as give advice on the melancholic parts... Anyway! I hope you and many others enjoy the newest addition to the Demoman content ^_^
Edward A/N: oki so now that the nerd is outta the way w the pleasantries (/aff) I just wanna say that I'm also a transman, nonbinary ftm, and so this was exactly what I needed to make my week!!! We truly do need more content for us, it feels like every fanfic is for fem readers— which is a big reason as to why I don't take fem readers reqs, like no offense but I write for my community more than anything; women or fem presenting ppl r completely allowed to read my stuff, and I make it w them in mind, but at the end of the day I just wanna create a safe space for transmen and nonbinaries in the fanfic community (starting with TF2)!!
HOLY FUCKIN YAP ANYWAY, daily reminder tf2 reqs r open!!
CW: mild angst, one part of crack treated seriously (going back to my roots of crackfics lowk), gay panic, implied pansexual demo w masc pref, a few suggestive jokes (threesomes, cucking, & STDs but it's not explicit and it's more of a one off), polyamorous soldier & zhanna, brief mention of soldier x demo, one part sounds like petplay but it's not intended that way, alcoholism, lmk if I need to add more!!
WORD COUNT: 400+
Even before you tell him, he'll know something is up. You're never this distant with him, and this starts to cause him to worry that either you're not feeling comfortable enough or you're planning to break things off.
"Ah' mean, Ah'm not necessarily upset... Sad? Damn right, but if the bonnie wants us to start seeing others, ultimately that's their decision. Damn well doesn't fuckin' make it feel any less hurtful though, ye know what I mean?"Demoman turns to Soldier, sitting on the opposite booth in the pub and shoving fries in his mouth grotesquely.He takes a moment to stop and actually think for once, before coming to exclaim (mouth still full of food)—"IF CAPTAIN HORNSWOGGLE DOESN'T WANT TO KISS YOU, THEN I WILL TAKE IT UPON MYSELF!"
Demoman takes this as a threat considering who Soldier's married to, but at the same time they're both equally unhinged and she might just join... And then what? A threesome? He's not ready for that, he's hardly even into women! Will she just cuck him and Soldier? He's not even into either of them! Though he has heard in the past that spicing up your sex life is good... But soldier seems like the type to have an STD, just a feeling, so what if—
Suddenly he needs to talk to you desperately and clear things up, please don't ever leave him in that situation again.
Once you come out to him (either as a werewolf or a transman, it's up to you!) he'll either react in one of these ways:
If you're coming out as a werewolf;
Immediately asks if you have a big fluffy tail and like belly rubs, what about being called good boy? Or spoonfuls of peanut butter? Hell, he'll buy you a collar if that makes you happy (he just sees werewolves as dog-humans, bless his heart). Anything his handsome man wants, he gets, even if it's through illegal means!
If you're coming out as a transman;
Genuinely thinks you're so fucking brave. You did what others falsely claimed you couldn't— you grew your wings, you took flight, you reached your full potential. You don't even have to have any surgeries yet or be on Testosterone, just the fact you're making steps in being the true you in a world and time where people are so full of hate, it's amazing— you're amazing! He's so proud of his boyfriend, and he'll do anything in his power to remind you of that every day.
Either way, he loves you for you! Not your body, you're so much more than whatever physical form you take.
"Thank thee gods this means I won't have'ta shag Zhanna!" He sighs, slumping over you.
How are the fellas about outdated slang and trends, like would any of them hit the dab in 2026?
Or slang in other languages? (you can skip that one if you don't want to look up/know stuff on that)
watched 27 hours of instagram reels to research for this ask so good morning everychud have some slop
IF THIS IS STILL IN FUCKING CONTENT LABEL REVIEW IM GONNA CRASH OUT THIS IS NOT MATURE. fuck tumblr content warnings bro.
larry is locked in on instagram reels he is a serial trendhopper and his slang vocabulary is UP TO DATE. he is the first to adopt whatever brainrot bullshit the tiktok and reels populations have come up with using their combined 3 braincells. yall know about my larry's extensive brainrot vocabulary this is a man who knows all about. uhhh. whatever the hell the scuba trend is. bro i have no fuckin idea. im too unc for this shit. something something yeah whatever sonion ring do your tiktoks. guy explaining clavicular to ludwig. hes so thats nice sweetie. hes so averageharry to me. he knows Too much ball. larry doesn't know any other languages because he is. stupid. he knows chinese grandma singing. guy has that shit memorised. committed to the memory palace. this is a man who loves calling everything slop. his homework? educationslop. a hug? affectionslop. larry responds to everything in internet terminology because its easier than being serious. he real as fuck. babe please get off reels please youre so cooked please read a book please i beg you need it. serial trend chaser. girl please have an independent thought.
morty is like me and just goes along with 90% of what other people say even if you dont really understand what it means. the daily battle of autistics vs the internet. what is 67. it takes morty a while to catch on and even then he doesnt really get it and has to google whatever the latest slang term means. he is so relatable. morty isnt good with slang of any variety whether it be larrys current brainrot reelsmaxxer vocab or regular darklands slang, its hard for bro to pick up on what it means and when to use it. bless his deeply relatable cotton socks. morty is not a trend follower he is not an internet guy he does what he wants and i respect that. he doesnt really get trends it never really makes sense to him. the most trend following morty does is on tumblr with shit like 'draw your oc as a' or like. writing prompts. my boy is locked out and i respect it. hes a supportive bro though wendy will explain a trend to him and his kind and pure heart does Not get it but he will record it for her. the ever faithful cameraman of the group. god bless morty and his unusually steady hands. the rest of these mfs are too caffeinated. i dont think he'd use slang from other languages, hes learning but i think he'd be too nervous to use it in case he uses it wrong or gets pointed and laughed at and encircled in the Shame Circle and pelted with tomatoes.
wendy is pretty good with slang, she'll stay up to date with whatever the girlies are saying. ik she loved a lil demure and mindful action. girl dinner! shes relatively up to date but she doesnt gaf about using whatever the kids have deemed outdated bro shes 17 shes not washed chopped or unc go touch grass. wendy loves a lil girlypop moment. she thinks its a liiiiittle sad to chase trends and whats new and she will clock people on this. promise babe you do not need to adopt a new insertrandomwordcore aesthetic just because the it girls on tiktok are. do what you want girl. wendy sure does. she likes some trends, shes a y2k FIEND but she does what she likes above all and modifies trends for her style and what makes her happy. shes practicing her conversation skills in the language of where she was born (sparkling waters) and slang is a big part of that so she tries her best to learn and drop bits and pieces of what she learns into conversation. pompom teaches her bits and pieces of sand kingdom slang and language. how to say diva the house down boots in sandish.
iggy in my mind speaks like an 80s skater. girl why are you saying wicked in the big 26. hitting the tubular. gnarrrrrlyyyyy. fuckin RAD dude. i fuck with it. hes so high. all the time. siiiiiiiiick. iggys not locked into trends, guy does what he wants and does not care what people think of him. you cannot make this man think hes lame if you tried. he is very lame. and he has infinitely more fun than all of us combined. iggys favourite word is wiiiiiiicked because he is an outrageous stoner and he has no idea what most modern slang means. he laughs at larry explaining shit like mogged to him. you do you lil bro. condescending head pat. he'll say shit like ragebait and brotosynthesis with increasing complicated science words. thats sick brothia dentocariosa. hes so fucking annoying. ignatius k koopa does not need trends to be insufferable hes perfectly good at doing that by himself. he knows an extensive amount of slang in other languages. and by other languages i mean the 400 different conlangs he made up for dnd. please stop speaking in goblin at the dinner table saying 'bitches love goblin' and snapping your teeth like a fuckboy is not a valid excuse. iggy has a vast repertoire of goblin themed inappropriate jokes. yeah sure man bitches love goblin on your darkstorm galaxy whatever who even cares anymore.
roys vocabulary is 90% fuck off and 10% fuck you. he does not have time for fuckin lowkenuinely and whatever the hell else the kids are saying. what the fuck is a chud. back in his day folks just said. actual slurs. roy talks like hes perpetually trapped in a cod lobby voice chat. he learns of trends through wendy making him do them with her and he thinks they are all. stupid. he feels stupid. what the fuck are you making him do wendy hes not embarrassing himself for the sake of doing an audio with you. hes got a reputation. tough guys dont do tiktok trends with their little sisters. hes such an asshole bro be nice. he'll use everyday darklands slang and a weird amount of new donk slang despite not having lived there since he was about eight. sure babe whatever fuggeddahboutit. hes picked up a little sand kingdom slang from being gay lovers with boomboom and will use it sometimes because hes gay gay gay gay gay for him. its almost cute. awww did you learn that word from your boyyyyfriiiiieeeeend??? gay ahh.
lemmy would hit the dab in the big 26 because he thinks its funny how larry dies inside and lemmy doesnt believe in being cringe. to be cringe is to be free. trust in the lemonade s koopa philosophy. lemmy uses slang but its usually made up by him and weirdly clown themed. like it goes from normal shit like saying clowning around to saying honkin' it to mean laughter to using tenting my circus as an innuendo. girl what are you on about. why are we proclaiming 'i jest!' instead of just kidding. one must dabble in a little bit of tomfoolery to achieve a life full of joy and whimsy and lemmy is an expert in this. man who knows the difference between shenanigans, hijinks, and mischief. a connoisseur of silly. fucker speaks in circus based riddles like hes a fuckin gayer rumpelstiltskin. lemmy doesnt actively keep up with trends he kinda just does shit. i would elaborate but i fear i have no idea how this man works. what goes on in the mind of a whimsical fairy trapped in the body of a little guy. he'll participate in trends if it sounds fun. hes a simple man. fun is fun joy is joy cringe isnt real do what you want. and he does. lemdog doesnt use much slang from his first language but occasionally he'll slip in a word or two accidentally. he doesnt like to use it much.
ludwig has no idea what is going on in the world of modern slang. he has dabbed once in his life. and it was really awkward and the footage is used as a reaction gif in the siblings groupchat every day. he cannot escape this and he does not try and replicate it. it was a low moment. he doesn't wanna talk about it. ludwig doesnt have the capacity for newfangled slang hes the kind of mf to use the word newfangled. he thinks all trends are pointless. partially because hes stuck in the victorian era and partially because hes still mad larry pulled the 'no one is bigger than my brother' trend on him. he thought it was gonna be wholesome. but no. massive fatty alert. do you guys know of steve miller of fat families fame. god he makes me giggle. even if hes absolutely mental. not relevant stay on track soup. ludwig thinks slang of any variety is beyond unprofessional and he will never be caught dead saying anything less than an unnecessary long winded version of whatever he needs to say. girl please i beg stop yapping and get to the point. he is so annoying.
this isnt slang but i feel very strongly that iggy is the kind of freak to randomly insert a "wake up" into his sentence and act like he didnt say anything weird. its fun for him. hes wretched. what will you do when the spores descend? girl sybau.
THANK YOU FOR THIS QUESTION I LOVE QUESTIONS i feel so chopped and unc writing this. they call me. ludwig. am i washed. i feel like an extraterrestrial right now. i cant tell if its the tiredness or not. going through the motions ahh lifestyle. they call me mr summer depression and thats not just because im a lesbian.
i just got back from the pub and we ran into this guy my friend knows and it reminded me of the first time we encountered this guy and he did this shit as a goodbye
iggy would do peace ✌️ and love 🫶. crazy stoner behaviour. he and lemmy would looooove doing that to say goodbye to each other theyre in hysterics.
my initial video was facing me and i fear im wearing shorts. can a gal not show a little kneecap. fucks sake. peace and love to everyone except tumblr.
