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cinnaminsvga · 4 years

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Dumbo | Jungkook (M)

→ summary: you know what they say about boys with big noses...

{or alternatively: jungkook has a big dick but he doesn’t know how to use it, but luckily you’re there to help.}

→ genre: humor/crack, smut → warnings: they talk about dicks a lot (i.e. jungkook has a big dick), DICK MEASURING CONTESTS (aka jk gets his dick appraised... just boys bein’ boys), explicit sexual content, semi-public exhibitionism, handjobs, blowjobs, sub!jungkook, whining, light dirty talk, mild pain play, mutual masturbation, jungkook has piercings, accidental edging (you’ll... understand), oc doesn’t have a gag reflex lol → words: 17.2K → a/n: @jincherie... you are my enabler and i will die on this hill only if you die on it with me. but of course i know you will die with me. because we only have one braincell and if either of us die, we both do. thank you for commissioning me to write this btw... even though i was already writing this so you just basically sent me money for free. ANYWAY... WORLD IS FUCK BUT I LOVE RHA!! ALSO JUNGKOOK HAS A BIG DICK!! EPIC!!

The club lights make it difficult for Jungkook to see anything. He doesn’t understand why club owners can’t just jack up the lighting for once; it isn’t like you’re going to be able to find a hook-up through echolocation or something. Though, judging by the way people seem to be groping their way through the masses, perhaps there really is no need for illumination anyway.

Jungkook normally hates this kind of scene. Drinking is all good and fun, especially when he’s with his hyungs, but going to overly crowded places makes his skin crawl with anxiety. It takes almost three shots during pre-game for him to get anywhere near this kind of place and it’s all thanks to Seokjin. That hyung thrives in these kinds of environments, like a clipped butterfly relearning how to fly.

“I’m gonna get shit fucked wasted!” Seokjin hollers, his arm looped carelessly around the only other person who hates being here as much as Jungkook does. He watches passively as Yoongi tries to bite a chunk off of Seokjin’s hand, but despite his inebriation, their eldest hyung is able to dodge it quickly.

“Not before I kill you, then everyone else in this place, and then myself, first.” Yoongi growls, nudging Seokjin off his smaller frame. If the world hadn’t been swaying underneath Jungkook’s feet, he might have offered to help his small hyung do the deed. If there’s anyone who hates nightclubs more than Jungkook, it’s Yoongi. Jungkook is frightened to know how Seokjin managed to convince Yoongi in the first place, and he’d prefer not to find out what sort of terrible blackmail the elder must have under his sleeve to accomplish such an arduous feat.

Just as Yoongi is about to connect his steel-toed boot up Seokjin’s freshly bleached asshole, Jimin returns from the bar with three glasses held precariously in each of his fists. Jungkook wonders yet again how this is possible due to the sheer tininess of Jimin’s hands, but then again... What can’t Jimin do when it comes to alcohol?

“I’m back! Here you go, Jungkookie,” Jimin says, seamlessly handing Jungkook a glass of what he hopes is just a regular beer like he asked. Knowing Jimin, he probably ordered the strongest shit they have. He peers at it suspiciously, but it only takes half a sip for Jungkook to confirm his guess. He grimaces, nearly coughing out a lung at the strength of the poison running down his throat.

“That tasted like fucking metal polish! What the fuck, Jimin?”

“I know! It’s great isn’t it?” Jimin smiles angelically, handing Yoongi one of the drinks. Yoongi looks at the swirling piss-yellow liquid as if it holds the secrets to the universe. It appears as if he’s decided something when his eyes light up.

“Oh my god, this drink is gonna kill me,” he says, not an ounce of fear in his voice. Jimin nods, not even trying to hide his deception.

“I promised the bartender a blowie if he could give me the strongest shit they had,” Jimin shrugs. “Dude literally went to the back room and took out this bottle that looked like it came from Napoleon’s secret stash of hooker piss.” He sniffs the drinks thoughtfully. “Yea, I could believe that.”

“I hate this!” Jungkook cries at no one in particular.

“Tough shit! We’re in this together!” Yoongi groans, downing the entire contents of his drink in one go before promptly being swallowed whole by the crowd. Seokjin hoots, hastily waving goodbye to Jungkook and Jimin before following Yoongi and diving into the sweaty masses like a seasoned Olympian.

“I hope they don’t die like last time,” Jungkook sighs, forcing himself to take a big gulp of his drink. It sears against his throat like a brand, which probably has an inscription saying “Jeon Jungkook has bad taste in friends.”

Jimin shrugs his shoulders. “Well, like Namjoon said a while ago, we’re gonna meet by the bar in 2 hours to check if everyone is still alive and we’ll find out then. Okay, Kook?”

Jimin has reminded him of this for the umpteenth time, though he can’t blame him for being extra careful. Last time the whole gang went to the club, Hoseok had gotten stuck in an elevator at his hook-up’s place and had cried for 5 hours straight before one of them thought to look for him. The time before that, Taehyung had ingested two times his bodyweight of margaritas and he had found himself in Japan the next morning with an extra $500 in his pocket.

Yeah. They’re idiots, but at least they’re idiots who will try not to make the same mistakes as last time. Key word being “try.”

Jungkook looks around the club, but he can’t find any awkward looking lanky people anywhere. “Where is Namjoon-hyung, by the way? Haven’t seen him since we split up.”

“Who the hell knows?” Jimin laughs, the sound drowning out when the DJ suddenly decides to play a death metal version of Dance the Night Away by Twice. Jimin’s eyes light up. “Ooooh shit! This is my song! See ya later, Kook!”

“W-wait, those drinks! Aren’t they for the others––“

“Bitch, you think these are for them?” Jimin begins to double fist his alcohol with the thirstiness of a man in a desert, or a twink confronted with two dicks. Either or.

To Jungkook’s horror, the crowd has seemingly grown thrice in size since they’ve arrived and he watches as Jimin’s body is slowly getting consumed by the masses, though he doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. He leans into a random guy's back, a look of bliss on his face. He salutes lazily at Jungkook. “Anyway. See you in 2 hours, Kook! Try to have fun!”

Try to have fun, his ass.

Unlike Jimin, Jungkook doesn’t particularly feel like being crushed by sweaty hormonal bodies; instead, he chooses to head to the bar. He surreptitiously dumps his drink into the trash, feeling kind of bad for discarding a free drink, but Jungkook doesn’t want to get shit-fucked wasted like the rest of them are. Perhaps he’ll be the designated driver today, even though his vision is still kind of swimming. Well, he could probably walk in a straight line if he used all his brainpower. Which isn’t a lot, but you know. People learn to make do.

It takes him a while to find an empty stool by the bar and he is unlucky enough to be squished between two couples who don’t seem to be aware that public indecency is a crime. He has to endure being jostled for five minutes straight until the bartender finally notices him and allow him to order his can of coke.

(“Sorry, kid. The banana milk is all sold out. Some girl ordered our entire stock for her friends a few hours ago.” And just like that, Jungkook wants to die all over again.)

He does not know for how long he sits by the bar. Well, that’s a blatant lie, because he knows that he’s been sitting there for 18 minutes and 34 seconds exactly. He’s checked his phone religiously every 2 minutes to see if 2 hours have passed already, just so he can ask one of his stupid friends to go home with him. Perhaps he could coerce Jimin into turning in early for once (which is a pipedream, not when the DJ seems adamant to play Jimin’s favorite Christina Aguilera song 70 times in a row.)

So in short, Jungkook is miserable. He could go home by himself, but also he doesn’t want to end up having to walk to the police station the next morning to bail his friends out after one of them inevitably destroys public property again.

Fuck. Maybe he shouldn’t have thrown away his other drink.

He’s so deep in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice that one of the couples beside him have already left and that another person has taken their spot. He is jarred from his musings when a well-manicured hand is placed delicately on his shoulder, urging him to swivel the barstool around to face his soon-to-be acquaintance.

“Hey,” you say, a sultry smile on your lips. Jungkook feels his mouth immediately fill with cotton as he stares at your beautiful face, the dingy lighting of the club doing nothing to suppress the wicked glint in your eyes.

“Uhh… hey?” Jungkook replies, as charming and verbose as ever. If it isn’t obvious enough, Jungkook is a little lacking in the girls department, or at least, when it comes to girls-who-are-blatantly-flirting with him department. He normally isn’t this socially inept around the opposite gender, but given the connotations of this circumstance, his overactive male brain can only be restrained so much before it starts wandering towards dangerous territory.

It doesn’t help that the neckline of your dress is bordering on obscene, and Jungkook is afraid that if you move one more inch towards him, something very embarrassing might happen to the both of you (probably more so for him, if he’s being quite honest.)

“I couldn’t help but notice you from across the club and thought I should introduce myself,” you explain, gaze unashamedly trailing down his body. Jungkook can feel the heat from you radiating in waves, burning him from the inside out as he tries not to melt into a puddle in a pathetic attempt to get the fuck out of there.

“You saw me? But it’s… so dark in here…” Jungkook wants to fucking murder himself. That’s what he decides to say to you? God, no fucking wonder he’s a virgin. Good looks really aren’t everything when he doesn’t have a brain controlling the rest of his body. There might as well be a fucking hamster running laps inside of his skull for all he knew.

Thankfully (or unthankfully––God knows Jungkook’s stress levels aren’t lowering any time soon), you find his response funny enough to warrant a chuckle. You bat your eyes salaciously at him, which Jungkook didn’t even think was possible. People can be sexy? When they blink? Apparently, you can do that.

You shrug your shoulders. “That’s true. You caught me in a lie, I suppose. I actually knew you were coming even before you arrived.”

Jungkook chokes on his own spit then, nearly spraying you with his saliva like the dog that he is. His eyes bug out of his sockets, his body going tense with nerves. "You... you knew? What... What does that even mean?"

You point over your shoulder, gesturing vaguely at the crowd on the dance floor. "I'm friends with Seokjin over there. He mentioned you were coming with him to the club tonight so I decided to tag along."

"You know Seokjin-hyung?" The alarm bells in Jungkook's head start ringing wildly out of control. Nothing good ever comes out of being friends with Seokjin, especially since his presence alone has the power to make the creases in your brain to smoothen. Take it from someone who's been there, done that.

"Yep," you say, popping your 'p.' "I met him in my first-year English course, though I still don't know why a third-year like him was taking it in the first place."

"It's because he doesn't know how to read," Jungkook says plainly.

"I can tell. He uses voice-to-text exclusively and Siri can never spell Asian names correctly," you shrug your shoulders. "Either that, or he just doesn't know how to spell your name."

"Yea. I'm permanently John Jung Cock on his phone," Jungkook replies. He shakes his head. "Hold on, we were talking about something before this."

"Oh. About how I casually revealed to you that I was stalking you through our mutually insane friend?"

"Y-Yea, basically." Jungkook doesn't even understand what the fuck is happening right now. "I mean! Not exactly? Like, for all I know, you could've just asked hyung who he was coming with and he mentioned my name and––"

"Listen, kid. I straight up just told you I'm stalking you. Let's skip the foreplay and get to the meat of it: I'm literally following you," you say, without an inch of regret, embarrassment, or morality in your tone of voice.

Jungkook, who despite being filled with so much fear and tension enough to kill the small hamster inside his brain, is somehow able to keep his calm in front of the psychopath in front of him. Either that, or he's already in the middle of a stroke and he's lost all his fine motor skills.

"I... I don't know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything, baby," you murmur, leaning even closer to him until your chest was practically pressed against his. The thin layer of your dress and his well-worn cotton tee does nothing to help the situation (both in general and the one in his pants). He can feel your every curve, can smell the sweet perfume you're wearing; you were enveloping his senses. If he tried hard enough, he could probably count your eyelashes if he so desired with how close you were.

He knows he should probably be running away in terror right now, but he finds himself stuck resolutely to the barstool, unable to move. Maybe Jimin was right... Maybe he did have a fear kink or something.

("Isn't that just called masochism?" Jungkook asks, brows raised.

Jimin only laughs, patting him on the back condescendingly. "Nah, dude. You just straight up wanna die by the hands of a hot person, and I can respect that homie. We all have been there.")

“W-what do you want from me?” Jungkook asks, sweat lining his brow. You’re still looking at him like he was a meal, but he finds he probably doesn’t mind being devoured by you.

Your wicked grin returns, full force. “I just want to play, Jungkook. But why don’t we discuss this… somewhere more private?”

Thunk. Was that the sound of his heart dropping out of his ass, or his brain pressing against the left side of his skull, or his dick hitting the roof? Jungkook isn’t sure, but he does know he wants to see where this night will take him.

He lets you lead the way, squeezing through sweaty bodies and elbowing a stray hand or two. Jungkook swears he feels a guy grope him on the way out, but before he can even sock the guy in the jaw, you’re already one step ahead of him. You hiss menacingly at the dudebro, raising your long acrylic nails in a show of dominance like you’re from some wildlife documentary. The guy audibly whines, running away from the two of you with his tail between his legs.

Jungkook stares at you incredulously. “How the fuck did you––”

“I’ve gone to tango classes with that dude. I have his mom’s phone number,” you explain nonchalantly. Instantly, Jungkook feels himself hardening in his pants.

You manage to get to where the washroom stalls are. You brazenly walk past the line of girls at the women’s section, but Jungkook is even more confused when you also pass by the men’s section. You turn the corner, where a bunch of tables and chairs were being kept. Then, you begin to knock down some of the extra chairs stacked against the wall, which is where Jungkook discovers there is an unused wheelchair accessible washroom.

“Why is this washroom being kept hidden?” he wonders aloud, sneaking guilty looks over his shoulder. No one seems to have noticed that the two of you are blatantly trespassing property, but you don’t look all that stressed about it.

You look at him weirdly. “Dude. You can barely walk in this club without getting groped, poked, or doped. As much as I’m all for accessibility, I don’t think wheelchair-bound people are gonna have much of a good time here.”

Jungkook feels as though he should be saying something profound about the need for establishments to be accessible or something, but the strain in his pants really wasn’t doing many wonders on his verbosity right now. Maybe next time.

You make quick work of the barricade and you get the door open in no time. You push him hastily inside, making him yelp as he tries to find his way around the darkened room. You flip the switch on somewhere behind him, illuminating the washroom to find… a toilet. That’s it.

“Well, they certainly didn’t think about interior decorating,” Jungkook says, laughing nervously as you click the door locked. He turns, watching as you pull the black elastic that was on your wrist and begin to tie your hair. You smile cheekily at him, the implications of what is about to happen very much apparent.

“Nah, they didn’t. But the room gets the job done and that’s all we want, don’t we?” You purr, taking the two short steps you need to get close to him once more. You trail a well-manicured nail down his chest, circling around his nipple teasingly but not doing anything more. His breathing turns more shallow, and he knows for sure that his eyes must look crazed to you right now.

You bring your finger lower and lower, grazing the top of his belt buckle and staying there. You look up at him, licking your lips as your gaze trails down to his own. Once again, he feels paralyzed as you take him in and he wishes for all the horny gods from above that you would finally end the torture and finally close the distance.

Taking some pity on him, you rest your lips against his throat, suckling gently enough that Jungkook knows it won’t leave a mark. His hands instantly come up to grab your waist, as if urging you to go harder, to make it hurt.

You smirk against his skin, deciding at that moment to bite down, hard. Jungkook yelps, before the sound morphs into an unabashed moan. His cheeks pinken, embarrassed at the volume of his voice.

“I-I…”

“Don’t worry, Jungkook…” you whisper, soothing the bite with your tongue. You pop off his skin, your lips slightly redder than before. “I’ll take good care of you, darling.”

See, Jungkook doesn’t doubt you in the slightest. As for his own skills at taking care of you when the time comes… now that’s a little bit of a gamble.

Jungkook isn’t a virgin, per se… He lost his virginity during his last year of high school to some girl he met at a party, and suffice to say, he didn’t last long. He’s had a few girlfriends in the past, but none of them ever wanted to get with him once they saw his dick. You see, he had a bit of a problem…

He wasn’t small, by the way. Don’t get him wrong. In fact, he was kinda––

Jungkook is pulled away from his thoughts when you suddenly drop down to your knees, your hands grabbing onto his thighs for support. He’s almost worried that you’d injured yourself from how fast you’d dropped, but you don’t seem all that bothered by how deftly your fingers moved to unbuckle his belt.

When you get it loosened, your hands stop by the button of his jeans and you look up at him with expectation. Jungkook almost whines when your hands drift back to your lap.

You snort, amused. “What? You think I’m gonna do all the work here, buddy? Come on, strip for me.” you say, sitting on your haunches as you wait for him to move.

The strain in his pants was getting downright painful at this point, so Jungkook is more than eager to follow your orders. Still, his hands are shaking the entire time, so it takes him a few extra seconds before he can finally unbutton his stupid jeans and pull down his stupid zipper. Even through his loose boxers, the outline of his dick is very apparent, with a small wet spot already staining the front of his boxers a darker blue.

“Uh, I have to say a disclaimer first though,” Jungkook squeaks, suddenly shy under the intense gaze you were pointing straight at his dick. It twitches slightly, and your eyes follow it like a cat ready to pounce. “I’m… kinda on the bigger side, so I just want to ask if you’re sure––”

“Baby, I was sure even before I came to this club,” you say, trance-like. Your fists clench and unclench by your sides. “Now, shut up before I change my mind.”

“But––” Jungkook doesn’t get to finish his sentence, stunned to silence when you quite literally rip his boxers off of him like a magician trying to prove something. His dick springs up half-way, still not fully hard as it’s always taken him a little bit more goading before he can get to full mast. Yea, he was that big.

You stare at it for a moment, going cross-eyed as you stared at his tip head-on like some sort of perverse gun barrel. You don’t move for so long that Jungkook is afraid that he might have freaked you out with the size of his cock, though you wouldn’t be the first in a long shot. He’s about to apologize, prepared to pull up his pants in shame and walk home with half a log in his crotch. He’s already shifting his jeans back up when you place a hand on his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

“Wait. Are you, like, only half-hard right now?” you ask, voice quiet.

Jungkook flushes. “Y-yeah… It gets a little bit bigger when I’m fully… You know…” he says, trailing off.

You’re still looking at his dick, but after further assessment, Jungkook realizes that you don’t look horrified in the slightest. In fact, you look pleased. “Jesus fuck you’re huge! Like… almost abnormally so.”

Jungkook literally feels like he’s going to die (and he hates that it’s kinda making him even hornier). “I guess so?”

“That’s a fucking log! You could stand on that thing!”

“I don’t think that’s possible, but––”

“Seokjin had told me you were huge, but I didn’t believe him because, well, the way he described it was that you had a literal third leg hiding under there. Who would have thought that Seokjin isn’t full of shit after all,” you say, awestruck.

“I’m really not that big––wait, Seokjin has talked to you about my dick? What the fuck? Since WHEN?” Seokjin was just out there in the world? Telling strangers about his dick? That hyung is seriously getting smashed WWE style the next time he sees him, and it’s NOT going to be sexy.

You wave him off. “Oh, don’t worry. He doesn’t just tell anyone. He let it slip because he was defending your honor,” you shrug.

In the midst of Jungkook’s mental breakdown at the realization that one of his closest friends just told a random girl that he’s got a meter long King Kong dong, he doesn’t notice that you’ve already stood up from where you were kneeling. You pull down the toilet seat cover, seating yourself on it and rubbing your reddened knees with a pout. “Ouch. Damn, I’m not used to kneeling for men anymore. Sorry, where was I? Oh right!”

You snap your fingers together, smiling gleefully at Jungkook. “So! I dragged you in here to give you my proposition, you see. I have a deal to make with you.”

Jungkook looks down at his cock, which was still red and dripping pre-cum, before turning back to you. “And this has something to do with… my dick?”

“Precisely!” you cheer, glad that he seems to be on the same page as you when he was in fact, not. “Sorry about tricking you, by the way. I’ll suck your dick after this if you’re still game, but only if you agree with my plan.”

“Your plan?”

“Yep,” you say, popping your ‘p’ once more. “You see, I have an ex-boyfriend. His name is Lee Taeyong, ever heard of him?”

Jungkook vaguely knows the upperclassman, though he can’t say he’s ever spoken to him. “Kinda. What does he have to do with me?”

“Well, if you really heard of him, then you’d already be one step ahead. Seeing as how it’s not already connecting for you––” you point to his dick, poking the sensitive head with the grace of a 5-year old at a petting zoo, “––then you don’t know that Lee Taeyong has the biggest dick on campus. Allegedly.”

“Allegedly,” Jungkook repeats. He still doesn’t follow.

“Well, I wouldn’t know either because I’ve never seen his dick, so––”

“Wait wait wait. Wait.” Jungkook’s hamster brain is running a mile a minute. There have been way too many absurdities spoken in the last five minutes and he doesn’t think he’s drunk enough to deal with your insanity right now. “Let’s dissect this one at a time, shall we? First of all, how can you not know how big your boyfriend’s dick is?”

“My ex-boyfriend. And we only dated for like three days, and I don’t fuck until a week has passed, okay? I don’t play like that,” you say as if you didn’t just lure Jungkook to this dingy washroom only to give him blue balls and trauma.

“Okay, whatever. So what if he has a big dick? What does that have to do with me?”

You roll your eyes. “How can you not understand yet? I’m on the hunt for our university’s biggest dick, of course! And you, Jungkook, might just be my ticket to the number one prize.”

There is a long pause. Jungkook stares and stares at you, waiting for you to shout “Surprise! You’re being pranked, bro!” and for all the cameramen to come out and shower him in confetti and dollar bills or something. But no, nothing like that happened. He just continues to stand there with his dick out, while you sit on a dingy toilet seat with your legs crossed comfortably as if you were just two friends having a regular conversation.

After a while, Jungkook comes to a conclusion. “You’re being serious.”

You snort, annoyed as if you were the one being inconvenienced. “Of course I am, dude. I don’t stalk just about anybody to see their dick. I’m not that insane.”

Jungkook feels as though your judgment on sanity should probably be taken with a grain of salt. “S-sure. Right. You’re definitely not insane.”

“And you have a big dick! I’m glad you can see where I’m coming from,” you say, nodding sagely. You peer at his dick once more, brows furrowed as you think deeply to yourself. “Hmm… Yea, I’d say you’d be at least equally as big as him. If all else fails, I can split the winnings and get half the amount of money if you––”

“No,” Jungkook says.

You raise your brow. “Yes?” you try.

“Yes–I mean, what? No!” Jungkook repeats, shaking his head furiously. "Are you even hearing yourself? You expect me to get into a dick measuring contest with your ex just so you can, what? Get revenge on him or something?"

"Not for revenge." You lean closer to him, face inches away from his dick but you don't seem perturbed in the slightest. "It's for money," you whisper, grinning slyly.

"Money," Jungkook repeats.

You clap your hands excitedly. "Exactly! So Taeyong and I didn't actually break up on bad terms. We only got together to make Doyoung, his crush, jealous enough to confess his feelings. But now, that dumb bitch thinks that now that he's with Taeyong, he can make fun of me for not being able to handle Taeyong's dark horse cock––"

"Can you please stop talking like an insane person," Jungkook pleads. His comment remains unheard.

"––so we made a bet that Taeyong doesn't actually have the biggest dick on campus and that I'm dating a guy with an even bigger meat thermometer than he does," you finish, snapping your fingers with a flourish. There's a twinkle in your eye: it's misplaced excitement coupled with extreme insanity, Jungkook realizes.

"That's good and all, but there's just one problem."

"What?" You tilt your head, confused.

"We're not exactly dating, are we?"

"Details, details... What Doyoung and Taeyong don't know won't hurt them," you say, shrugging your shoulders.

Jungkook rolls his eyes. "Of course," he says, leaning against the grimy bathroom wall. He goes to tuck Jungkook Jr. back into his pants, his dick finally softening after the last ten minutes of psychological torture courtesy of yours truly, but you're quick to slap his hand away, making him yelp in surprise.

"No! I like looking at it," you say. You stare at his dick with rapt fascination. "It's kinda like looking at a weird, deformed baby leg. Beautiful, but haunting all at once."

Jungkook huffs, staring at you in equal parts disbelief and awe. If he thought Seokjin was mentally unhinged, then you're definitely on your way towards uncharted psychotic territory. It was kind of amazing how you could just say shit without any brain to mouth filter, in your own twisted way. "Listen, lady. I don't even fucking know what your name is, but I am not helping you win some stupid bet and showing my dick to even more strangers than I have to, okay?"

You consider him, lips pursing slightly. "Why, do you have any other plans this weekend?"

Jungkook falters. "I... No, I don't––"

You shrug your shoulders, as if that's the end of that problem. "Then it's settled! I don't see why you can't just do this out of the goodness of your heart?"

"For the last time, I won't do it even if––"

"I'll split the prize with you? 50/50? That's $1000 for having a huge dick! Every incel's wet dream!"

Jungkook pauses in his rant, choking on his spit. His jaw drops comically, unsure if he heard you right. "Did you say one... grand?"

Hook, line, and sinker. You know you caught him the moment his eyes bugged out of their sockets. You smirk, crossing your arms triumphantly as you gaze upon his desperate and broke college ass (and dick). “So? Having second thoughts?"

Jungkook is quiet for a moment. He opens his mouth, then closes it. He tries to wrap his head around the number, unsure if he should be worried about how ready he is to drop his pants for money. Have I completely lost it? Am I that much of an idiot? he wonders, but then again… He’d be an even bigger idiot for letting free money go down the drain.

“Where is this money even coming from?” he asks, even though he knows his guard is already dropping quickly.

You wave your hand flippantly. “Oh, Doyoung is filthy rich. I imagine that $2000 is nothing to him,” you say, picking at a hangnail. “It’s not much money to me either, but my pride is mostly at stake here. If you want, you could take all the money as a prize, so long as you make that bitch eat his heart out.”

Jungkook feels his dick twitch and he knows that you notice. “Two… thousand…” He accidentally moans, gripping his thighs to prevent himself from nutting. “That’s…”

You tilt your head, arching a brow. “Not enough? I could put in an extra $500 if you’re really against this whole thing. To be fair, I wouldn’t wanna expose my coochie to a random person either––”

“Two thousand five hundred? Are you fucking insane?” Jungkook exclaims, voice cracking at the end. He clears his throat, but it still feels like his lungs are on fire.

“Okay, three grand it is but I’m not going any higher than that,” you huff, shaking your head. “Mr. Jeon, you really do drive a hard bargain, though I always notice that well-endowed men tend to think they deserve the universe, so I’m not surprised.” You chuckle to yourself, as if anything about this situation is worth laughing at. Jungkook feels like that one time he had inhaled an entire helium balloon in one breath when he was younger: kinda nauseous but also kinda euphoric. Is it bad that his dick is stirring awake right now? Hello?

You put your hand out, looking at him expectantly. “Well? Do we have a deal or not?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath and accesses his options carefully. Does he:

Give up his low self-esteem for money and enter an actual dick-measuring contest with some stranger;

There is no other option. Jungkook wants money.

He exhales, a migraine already throbbing incessantly in the back of his skull. He thrusts his hand forward, gripping yours harshly in a firm handshake. “I’m in,” he says, without missing a beat. Your smile brings a shiver down his back, and he can’t help but wonder if this is what Judas felt like when he betrayed Jesus, except he’s betraying no one but his own self-worth.

Well, he always did wonder how much his life was worth and three grand doesn’t seem like that big of a stretch. Oh well.

“Nice,” you chuckle, seemingly vibrating from excitement. You slip behind him, grabbing his phone from the back pocket of his jeans (which were still, by the way, pooled around his thighs because his dick was still out. Just to remind you guys in case you forgot. OP doesn’t want you to ever forget about it.) You flick open his phone, cackling maniacally when you realize he doesn’t even have a password on.

Jungkook squawks. “Hey, what are you––”

“I’m saving my number on your phone,” you explain. He can barely see what you were typing into his phone contacts, but he doesn’t miss the way you attach a heart emoji beside your name. You open his texts, sending yourself an octopus emoji that just so happened to be Jungkook’s most frequently used emoji. You snort. “Octopus emoji, huh? Seems appropriate… Can’t help but think it was a sign that this might have been destiny.”

“I just like takoyaki…” Jungkook defends himself sulkily.

“Yea? Well I like cock,” you say. You pause, furrowing your brows. “Oh, I meant to say chicken. Same thing.”

You hand back his phone, grabbing your small purse that you had thrown aside onto the washroom floor. You straighten your dress, looking to all the world as if you hadn’t just offered a stranger three grand to show his dick. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Jungkook. I expect to see you soon, maybe this weekend if you’re free. I’ll text you the details of when we’ll meet next. Toodles!” you wave, sending him a flying kiss for extra measure. Jungkook’s eye twitches, and he wonders not for the first time tonight if he was trapped in a coma and was slowly passing away.

Just as you are about to head out the door, you stop in your tracks, turning back to face him. You give him a curious expression, gaze dragging downwards until you were staring down the barrel of his dick once more. “Hey, sorry about leaving you hanging like that, by the way. I would love to help you finish, but I have a ride to catch. Raincheck?”

Not waiting for an answer, you saunter away with a spring in your step. The door swings back closed, leaving Jungkook alone for the first time in what feels like forever: just him, his dick, and the promise of three thousand dollars on the horizon.

“I’m so fucking stupid,” Jungkook groans, sliding down to the floor. He fists his cock in his hand, groaning loudly when he feels the pleasure jolt up his spine like electricity. As he listens to the sounds of his heavy breathing and the slick mess in his hands, he can’t help but wonder if Jimin was right… Maybe he did have a thing for insane hot girls who were out to kill him.

x x x x x

After Jungkook cleans himself up, he marches out of the washroom with as much dignity as he can muster. Which is to say that he walked out of there with his head bowed in shame, meekly navigating the crowded club in search of his friends.

It isn’t hard, considering that Jimin was currently hanging on the fucking ceiling from a disco ball. A group of men stand at the bottom, all of them eagerly eyeing his fat ass as Jimin dangerously humped the shiny ball of metal like his life depended on it.

“Okaaaay guys! The moment this disco ball drops, whoever catches me first gets to fuck me tonight so try your best to grab me~!” Jimin singsongs from his perch, howling madly as all the horny motherfuckers scramble all over each other, desperate to catch him lest he meets his maker.

“I. Hate. My. Life.” Jungkook sighs, striding past the group of men easily with his superior upper body strength. “Move, incels. This twink isn’t letting any of you simps touch his ass. He just likes the attention.”

“Aww, Jungkookie! Don’t ruin my fun~! Unless you wanna catch me and we can finally fu––” Jimin screams mid-sentence, just as the cord holding him and the disco ball snaps. All the guys step over themselves to catch him, but Jungkook is stronger and faster. He catches Jimin mid-air, snatching him in an instant and hoisting him over his shoulder. Everyone cheers and hollers, clapping for him as Jimin continues to giggle hysterically into his back.

“Yay! Jungkookie is gonna fuck meeeee,” Jimin pats him on the ass, but Jungkook ignores him. He goes around the club, searching for the rest of his friends until he has five dangling bodies hanging off his body like some six-headed freak.

Well, it’s soon going to be five-headed after he beheads Seokjin, whom Jungkook is certain just vomited all over the back of his jeans.

“I can’t fucking find Yoongi-hyung.” Jungkook grits his teeth, his nose assaulted by the stench of Namjoon’s armpit as the elder contorts himself into a more comfortable position. “Stop fucking moving, you long-legged bastard. Why’d you have to be born with such good body proportions?”

“And why are you so hot, Jungkook?” Taehyung swoons from somewhere underneath Hoseok, who seems to be either passed out or dead; Jungkook didn’t pause to check for a pulse.

“Pretty sure Yoongi went home,” Seokjin slurs, a second wave of nausea hitting him as he struggles to keep the alcohol inside of him a bit longer. “Ugh… Said he saw his roommate and they went home together.”

“God, it better be his fucking roommate and not another person trying to sell his organs again.” Jungkook sighs. “Either way, we’re all going home. We’ve done enough damage for tonight.”

“Jungkookie, did you have any fun at all tonight? Didn’t see you around,” Namjoon quips, managing to wriggle out of Jungkook’s grip and fall face flat on the curb. He whines pathetically, not making a move to stand up again. “Ugh. I didn’t even drink a lot tonight so why...?”

“It’s because you’re Namjoon,” Jungkook supplies helpfully. He lets the rest of his friends down, making sure they are leaning against the wall for support (or sitting against the wall in Hoseok’s case). “Alright, I’m calling cabs. Seokjin-hyung, I’m staying over at your place tonight.”

Jimin, who was already slowly falling asleep where he stands, perks up in attention at that. “Wait, you’re coming home with me and Seokjin? Are we reaaaally gonna fuck?” Jimin tries to wiggle his eyebrows suggestively, but to Jungkook, it just looks like he’s having a stroke.

“I’m done nutting for tonight. We are sleeping once we get home and that’s it,” Jungkook snorts, crossing his arms.

“OOOOOOOH? JUNGKOOK GOT FUCKED AT THE CLUB!”

“GET IT BOY!”

“OH SHIT HE FINALLY USED HIS PURPLE-HEADED YOGURT FINGER!”

“DAMN DUDE? DAMN? DAMN?”

“AW, YOU FUCKED SOMEONE WITHOUT ME?”

Jungkook swears he had heard Hoseok speak amidst the yelling from his friends, but his hyung still remains mysteriously hunched over and dead to the world. “None of your businesses. Anyway, a cab is coming soon and I swear to God, if any of you piss or vomit in that poor man’s vehicle, I will make sure none of you live to see the light of day, okay?”

Jimin turns to Taehyung, who just happened to be beside him. “Not gonna lie, but I kinda jizzed in my pants just now. That was kinda hot.” Taehyung only nods in agreement.

An hour and thirty minutes later, Jungkook manages to get the last of his idiot friends home, leaving only him, Seokjin, and Jimin as they tiredly trudge up the steps to the apartment. It takes an additional twenty minutes for Seokjin to figure out where he’d left his keys, only for Jimin to raise his finger for them to wait as he hid behind some bushes while unbuckling his jeans. When he comes out of the bushes, pantless, he has a key raised with a victorious smirk on his face.

“Don’t ask where I keep this,” is all he says and Jungkook is glad that he had rejected Seokjin’s offer to permanently move in as their roommate.

They all stumble into the apartment, with Seokjin falling immediately onto the couch. He curls up into a little ball, snoring the moment his eyes shut. Jungkook wants to shake him awake, eager to interrogate him about what happened between you and him just a few hours ago at the club. Even if he wanted to wake him up, Jungkook is sure nothing can rouse the elder; this fact is confirmed when Jungkook dumps water on him, only for Seokjin to keep sleeping soundly like a baby.

“Well, hyung is dead. Guess it’s time for me to die too,” Jimin says sleepily, the horniness and insanity from the club already wearing off. He pats Jungkook gently on the head, pointing towards Seokjin’s room. “Sleep there. I’ll hand you an extra blanket because I wouldn’t trust that hyung’s sheets. Let’s sleep, yeah?”

Left with no other choice, Jungkook heads to Seokjin’s bedroom, jumping onto the unmade sheets and pretending not to notice the crusty unknown substance on the corner of the bed. He can’t fall asleep, not when he’s left haunted by the weight on his chest (and dick). Jungkook fiddles with his phone, staring wide-eyed at the name displayed tauntingly on his screen.

Y/N L/N.

He was gonna have a nightmare tonight, that’s for sure.

x x x x x

Jungkook wakes up early, much to his chagrin. He’d really like to stay dead to the world for much longer, but the smell of coffee brewing and bacon cooking is kind of a hard deal to pass up. Jungkook shifts in bed, cringing when he realizes he went to sleep in his jeans, and more importantly, that his pants felt a lot stickier than he remembered.

He lifts the blanket up, confirming his suspicions. “Fuck!”

Well, guess he didn’t have much of a nightmare last night after all.

He shucks off his clothes, disgusted by the mess he finds in his underwear. He hobbles over to Seokjin’s closet, cringing when he finds only one (1) clean pair of shorts left, which just so happened to have “PEE IS STORED IN THE BALLS” stamped on the back in cursive font. Beggars can’t be choosers, he supposes.

Jungkook tiptoes out of the bedroom, confronted with the sight of Jimin pouring three mugs of coffee and Seokjin still slumped over the couch, a substantial amount of drool dripping down from the side of his mouth and forming a puddle on the floor. Jungkook takes a photo, saving it for later.

“Morning,” Jimin smiles from the kitchen, offering Jungkook one of the cups. Jungkook is certain that Jimin has no recollection of the events from last night, though such is Park Jimin’s way of life. He drinks to get fucked up, then he forgets, and then the cycle repeats itself anew. Jungkook wonders how Jimin always manages to wake up without a hangover, though God might have just given him a super liver in compensation for his lack of height.

“Hyung is still dead,” Jungkook states plainly, walking over to Seokjin and peering at him closely. Jungkook sticks a finger into his agape mouth, collects some of his spit, and then proceeds to give him the wettest willy of his life. Still no response.

“Let me try,” Jimin says, sauntering over to Seokjin with one of the cups of coffee. Jimin leans down, hums gently into his ear. “Hyung, wake up. We have coffee for you!”

Seokjin mumbles incomprehensibly in his sleep, snuggling deeper into the couch stuffing. Jimin tilts his head, still smiling. Then, he dumps the scalding cup of coffee all over Seokjin’s crotch.

In an instant, Seokjin screams with the pitch of a banshee, swinging his arms wildly about and nearly knocking himself out with his own fist. Jungkook and Jimin watch passively from the sidelines, waiting for the elder to finish fanning his nutsack before greeting him a pleasant morning.

“WHY ARE YOU BOTH LITERAL DEMONS?” Seokjin hollers, jumping to his feet with his scorched balls and all. Taking pity on him, Jungkook walks over to the fridge, tossing his hyung a bag of ice. And by toss, it’s more like he pitches the bag straight into his dick with the ease and speed of a seasoned baseball player, eliciting another round of pained howls.

“YOU––ASS––” Seokjin seethes, clutching the bag of ice to his nether regions. He sits down on the adjacent loveseat, expression contorting as he cups his balls gingerly. “God, it’s almost like you guys don’t think I deserve basic human decency.”

“That was just a small part of my revenge for you, after you gave my contact details to an insane woman,” Jungkook sneers, miming a punch onto Seokjin’s handsome face. Seokjin doesn’t even flinch, too busy staring at Jungkook’s legs.

“Hey, are you wearing my thot shorts?”

Jungkook looks down at the neon pink monstrosity around his hips. “You call these your thot shorts?”

Seokjin shrugs. “I got dicked down in them once. You should try.”

“Oh, did I hear something about revenge? I smell tea in here,” Jimin says, coming back from the kitchen with his own cup. “Well, I have coffee but same shit. What happened?”

“This––” Jungkook points an accusatory finger at Seokjin, “––asshole sent my location information to an insane stalker lady last night after he told her that I had a huge dick!”

Seokjin squints at him, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about Y/N! She said you told her about how big my dick was and when she asked you where I was, you told her I was going to the club with you last night!”

“Oh.” Realization dawns on Seokjin’s face, which was quickly replaced by incredulity as he stares at Jungkook. “I assumed she asked for your contact details because she had a crush on you. I was just trying to get you some pussy, bro.”

“Yeah, Kook. Not gonna lie, but I’d be dicking down girls left and right if I had a dick as big as yours,” Jimin says, eyeing the bulge in his teeny tiny shorts with interest. “In fact, I’d probably be a top if I had a dick as big as yours.”

Seokjin laughs, nearly shooting out phlegm from the strength of it. “Oh god, don’t tell me. You couldn’t get your dick hard again? Don’t worry bro, if I had a dick as big as yours, it’d take ages for it to fill up too.”

Jungkook flushes, stomping his foot in embarrassment. “That! Wasn’t the problem! The problem is––”

“––that Jungkook nuts too quickly because he doesn’t have any practice,” Jimin tuts sadly, patting the younger with a pitiful expression. “Don’t worry, Kook. Hyung is open to giving you some pointers.”

“That’s not it either!” Jungkook screams, groaning in annoyance. “She came up to me because she offered to pay me $3000 to enter a dick-measuring contest!”

Jimin and Seokjin tilt their heads in tandem, still not getting it. “So?” they both chorus, giving him a blank-eyed stare.

“Are you guys out of your mind? I got bribed into showing my dick to some strangers like some kind of weird prostitute!”

“It’s not prostitution if you’re not engaging in sexual activity,” Jimin muses, taking a long sip from his coffee. He shrugs his shoulders. “Honestly, I don’t see how this is a problem. You show some girls your dick, and you get money. Dudes would kill to be in your position.”

“Oh my God, don’t tell me,” Seokjin leers at Jungkook, and the younger almost can’t stop himself from landing another blow against the elder’s abused crotch. “You got roped into some bukkake orgy and now you’re asking your hyungs to help you? Don’t worry, Jungoo… You came to the right people. You see, Jimin and I have some experience with––”

“LALALA I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” Jungkook jams his fingers into his own ears, screaming hysterically to drown out the sounds of Seokjin and Jimin’s combined laughter. Jungkook pouts at them, glowering pathetically. “Seriously, hyungs! Do you not see how fucked up this is? Who follows a stranger to a club, pretends they’re going to give you a blowjob, only to offer 3K for you to show some strangers your dick?”

“A regular Friday night if you ask me,” Jimin says, shrugging once more. Jungkook stares at him, realizing that maybe it was the wrong idea being friends with these two lunatics in the first place. Knowing Jimin, he’d probably been in much more lewd and compromising situations than Jungkook will ever have. Rumor has it that Jimin had once done a keg stand while having his dick sucked while on vacation in Japan.

“Well, if you were really against it, then you could have just said no?” Seokjin points out, wagging a finger at him. “I know Y/N, and yeah she’s kind of demented, but she still knows that no means no. Surely, you haven’t considered the fact that you are 1) a pushover and 2) horny for her?”

“Well, yea––No, what––No!” Jungkook splutters, stammering wildly. His two hyungs grin salaciously, gazing at him knowingly. Jungkook can only groan, as he knows that they kind of have a point. He’s always been too weak for girls and money, so when you put those two things together…

“I might be addicted to the BBC tag on Pornhub, but you my friend… You’re in it for the BBCC,” Jimin snickers, patting Jungkook comfortingly on the back. Jungkook groans into his hands, slumping onto the loveseat beside Seokjin, whose icepack had long since melted and caused the seat to be uncomfortably damp.

“BBCC? I’m almost too afraid to ask.”

“Big black credit card,” Seokjin pipes up, wrapping his own arm around Jungkook’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, bud. We all have been there.”

That’s the problem: somehow, Jungkook finds himself much too ready to accept his fate, eagerly awaiting when you’ll text him next.

x x x x x

After a much-needed shower at Jimin and Seokjin’s place, Jungkook tiredly makes his way to the nearby bus stop, ready to go home and sleep the entire weekend away. Screw his Biochemistry midterm on Monday––if he really is going to whore himself out to you, then he’s going to need all the self-care and therapy that he can get. His phone itches in the pocket of his shorts (yes, he’s still wearing the thot shorts), and he wonders if he should text his therapist and ask for an extra appointment later in the day.

Just as he’s about to pull out his phone, he senses it vibrate once, twice. He freezes in his steps, walking out of the way of busy pedestrians on the sidewalk and into a random clothing store. He sees the lone cashier staring at him from the corner of his eye, but he does not check if her gaze is filled with disgust or disgust. Probably disgust, he surmises.

Flicking his phone on, he sees two new messages from you and his heart immediately starts to hammer in his chest. No one has ever made Jungkook equal parts scared and excited, though he imagines you might have that effect on most people, what with how you look like the type to tie up unsuspecting victims to harvest their organs in your summer cottage up in the mountains or something. Or maybe that’s just Jungkook projecting.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ hey! sorry for taking so long to text you. my roommate tried to make cheesecake at 3am last night and i had to supervise in case he burned down the apartment.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ anyway, i was wondering if you were free later? some time after 5 maybe? let me know!

You already want to meet so soon. Jungkook exhales heavily through his nostrils, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to calm himself. Alright, this is fine. Jungkook is a big boy: he can handle going to a girl’s home without losing his mind. You didn’t say anything about this being the actual dick-measuring contest yet, so he can only assume this is just you asking for something else. Maybe to talk more? Maybe he’ll get a down payment for the prize money? Maybe you’ll follow through on your raincheck? God, is it wrong for him to have his dick plumping up in his shorts when you haven’t even done anything to him yet?

(On the contrary, you could say that you have done a lot for him over the past twenty four hours, though maybe not in the way most people would expect.)

from: jjk yeah i can meet you at 5. what’s this for?

from: y/n l/n ❣️ oh, nothing! i just wanted to talk to you about the actual competition and stuff. plus, i want to actually measure your dick, just so i can see how much you’re actually packing down there ;)

from: jjk ….yeah, fine. whatever.

(This really isn’t a “whatever” type of situation, but honestly, Jungkook doesn’t really know what to say anymore. He’s officially lost his singular brain wrinkle. He’s smooth brain McGee over here.)

You follow up by sharing your location with him, and he’s surprised to find that you aren’t that far away from where Jungkook was right now. He really did mean to go back to his apartment first and get changed into something more… morally acceptable, but since he hasn’t been arrested yet for public decency, he should be okay with going to your place in Seokjin’s thot shorts.

There’s something invigorating about going to your place, dressed the way he is… Maybe the shorts are somehow giving him brain hemorrhage by indirect association with Seokjin. Either that or Jungkook simply loves torturing himself by embarrassing himself constantly. Well, at least he showered and combed his hair before leaving his hyungs’ place.

He inputs your address into his phone map, taking his sweet time as he walks the short distance to your apartment. As he passes by the buildings and street corners, he can’t help but think that he might have been around this area before. He tries to rack his brain, forcing himself to remember why this route seems so familiar.

“Oh right. Yoongi-hyung’s new apartment should be around here,” he muses to himself. He wonders if his hyung had gotten home safely last night. He should probably text him to make sure, but he’s got a literal dick appointment to attend to first, so he’ll remember to check up on Yoongi once he finishes up with you.

Does that make him a shitty friend? Probably. But would Yoongi do the same if Jungkook was in his shoes? Probably.

Yeah, Jungkook and his group of friends aren’t exactly role models for a sensitive and loving relationship, though that’s not much of a surprise to anyone.

He arrives at a decent looking apartment complex, complete with its own little water fountain at the entrance. He walks through the automatic sliding doors, peers at the shiny caution tape barring him from using the elevator. He stares at your address on his phone, groaning loudly when he sees “1603” much to his annoyance.

“No wonder she had such great thighs,” Jungkook mutters angrily to himself, preparing himself for the long and arduous journey his glutes are going to endure.

Years later, Jungkook finds himself at your door, his lungs jumping out of his throat as he struggles to catch his breath. He hunches over, elbows digging into his thighs as he wipes the sweat trailing down his neck. He can see your door just near the end of the hall, but just as he’s about to crawl his way over––

“Oh. Oh my,” a familiar voice says from behind him, and Jungkook looks over his shoulder to see…

“Yoongi-hyung?” Jungkook exclaims incredulously, mouth gaping at the sight of his thought-to-be-dead hyung coming out of the elevator. He splutters for a few more moments before pointing an accusing finger at Yoongi. “You used the elevator?”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow, turning to look at the elevator with a thoughtful look. “Oh right. The elevator works. The maintenance people just forgot to remove the safety tape from last week.” Yoongi looks back at Jungkook, gaze lowering to his legs. “I see that Seokjin has provided you with his thot shorts.”

Jungkook doesn’t even try to cover himself, used to his friends seeing him in varying degrees of undress. Like, what was Yoongi going to do? Take a photo of him and post it to his Twitter for his thousands of followers to see? He wasn’t that cruel...

Snap! Yoongi pockets his phone quickly, clearing his throat. “So,” Yoongi walks up closer to him, peering at Jungkook curiously. “What brings you to my apartment? Not that I’m happy to see you, but I assumed you and the rest of our idiotic gang would have died of alcohol poisoning the night before.”

“...It’s a long story,” Jungkook says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Say... Where did you go last night, by the way? I tried to look for you, but Seokjin said your roommate brought you home?”

“Yeah. She went to the club with a bunch of her friends. She offered me a ride with her because she knew how much I hated it there,” Yoongi says, frowning. “Fuck you, by the way.”

“What the fuck? What the hell did I do?”

“I don’t know. You’re wearing Seokjin’s shorts and my ape brain told me to retaliate out of instinct,” he explains. He takes another long, good glance at his shorts. “Color me surprised that they fit you, by the way. I’d assume your huge ass would be making it rip the seams, or perhaps your dick would be saying hello.”

Jungkook pats his junk proudly. “I know, right? Big guy decided to cooperate, for some reason.”

“Will you guys stop yapping it up out in the hall? I’m pretty sure Mrs. Sy can hear you two idiots from the first floor,” a voice from behind Jungkook hisses, causing the two boys to jump up in surprise. Lo and behold, your head is peeking out from behind your door, a perfectly stenciled eyebrow arched in annoyance. “Well? Are you two coming in or what?” You return back to your apartment, assuming that they’d soon follow.

Yoongi looks at Jungkook. “Wait. You know Y/N?”

Jungkook looks at Yoongi. “Wait. You know Y/N?”

Yoongi squints his eyes. “She’s my roommate. She’s a mutual friend of––”

“––Seokjin,” Jungkook finishes. The two of them pause, a metaphorical light bulb glowing above their heads.

“Ah.”

“I see. The demoness has roped you into some hare-brained scheme, hasn’t she?” Yoongi nods sagely, rubbing his beardless chin. “Can’t say I feel sorry for you since I have to live with the wench.”

Jungkook grimaces. “Man. She’s insane around you too?”

Yoongi shrugs, walking over to your shared apartment. “I’m dating Seokjin, remember? Everyday, I suffer. Everyday, I feel my arm.”

When Jungkook steps into your apartment, he can’t help but be a little surprised. Of course, he shouldn’t have expected to see a medieval torture chamber in the middle of a metropolitan city, but he wouldn’t put it past you to somehow make it happen. Instead, he finds a fairly cozy-looking home, with comfy couches and filled bookshelves, complete with a small balcony that had a few fresh herbs growing in little pots. It looks…

“Yoongi-hyung. You definitely decorated, didn’t you?” Jungkook snorts, fingering the little kitty-patterned throw blanket draped on your couch. It’s soft and expensive, and definitely something only Yoongi would buy. The elder doesn’t even bother looking embarrassed; he just throws Jungkook the middle finger as he walks towards the kitchen.

You come out once more from one of the connecting rooms at the other end of the apartment, presumably your bedroom. You motion for Jungkook to come in. “Yoongi, you’re gonna bake all day, right? Mind if you let Jungkook and I speak alone in my room?”

Yoongi waves his hand disinterestedly. “Whatever. If you guys are gonna be freaky in there, I’m gonna start playing clown music to drown you guys out, alright? And I mean the remix versions with the extra clown honks.”

You roll your eyes. “Yea, yea. We get it. Grandpa needs his special time alone too.”

Jungkook’s heart jumps when you don’t even bother correcting him. Does that mean you guys really were going to do something freaky? Hopefully, Yoongi has learned to differentiate screams of terror from screams of pleasure, though it’s hard to tell if he’d care otherwise.

He follows you into your room and immediately notices the perfectly made bed and the neatly organized desk. Your curtains are drawn close, but the sheerness of it allows the mid-afternoon sun to brighten the room regardless. Your bedroom smells faintly of vanilla and cinnamon, and he notices the small scented candle still smoking from when you’d put it out.

Nothing in the room indicates that he was inside the room of a psychopath, though maybe Namjoon or Taehyung would argue that anyone who makes their bed every day might be a little out of it. Jungkook continues to stand awkwardly by the door, unsure of what to do next except to stare.

You plop onto your bed, giving him an expectant look. “Well? Are you just gonna stand there by the door and have Yoongi see us measure your dick or what?” That gets Jungkook to move. He closes the door, pausing for a second before locking it for good measure. Then, he takes the short two steps that he needs to stand right in front of you.

You crane your neck, appraising him silently as he fidgets from the weirdness of it all. Your gaze trails down and Jungkook is not surprised when you stop to stare at his neon pink shorts. You snort, thumbing the edge of his shorts lightly. Jungkook shivers even though you’re barely touching him and he knows that you notice.

“Trying to get back at me for leaving you with blue balls yesterday?” you muse, letting go of the thin material. Jungkook wants to bring your hand back to his thigh, but he forces himself to keep still.

He looks down. “Not really? But I mean… Is it working?” He can’t help the hopeful lilt in his voice.

You laugh, patting him lightly on the thigh. “No worries, Jungkook. I did promise you a little something last night, right? I admit it was shitty of me to leave you like that, despite what you already might think of me. You probably think I’m just some insane bitch, right?”

Jungkook stares at you. “Do you want me to be honest or...?”

You roll your eyes, but you seem more amused than anything. “Save it. I know I’m weird. But, a promise is a promise…” You trail off, winking at him. “Besides, this works out for the both of us, right? I wanted to measure your dick before we meet up with Taeyong and Doyoung tomorrow, and I can help you blow your rocks right after. Seems like a deal?”

“Is it bad that I’m so ready to have you suck me off that I’m honest to God accepting your offer without any sense of dignity?”

You consider him for a moment. Then, “Nah. I know dudes who would do worse things for three grand and to have their dick sucked. I’d say you’re just doing you.” You place your hands back on his hips, thumbing around the garter of his shorts.

Jungkook groans, not even flinching when you rip his shorts and boxers off in one rough flourish. His soft dick dangles heavily between his thighs. “See, I’m not entirely comforted knowing that you agree with my moral dilemma.”

You clap your hands together, excitement glittering in your expression. “Who cares! Let’s get you all hard and ready, shall we?”

Jungkook squirms under your gaze, getting dick stage fright. “H-hey… This isn’t like porn… I can’t just get hard when I want to, you know? I need… stimulation or some shit.”

You nod, humming thoughtfully. “You’re right… And I remember you said something about taking a long time to get fully hard, right? That’s gonna be a problem indeed.” You lean forward, “So. Tell me, Jungkook. What are your kinks?”

If Jungkook was drinking water, he’s sure he’d be doing a spit take right now. Instead, he just chokes on his own saliva, coughing out his lungs at your sudden inquiry. “M-my kinks? What for?”

“To get you hard, duh.” You leave featherlight grazes around his thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. It stirs something inside Jungkook, but not enough to do anything yet. You tsk, your brow crumpling as you decide what to do next. “What if I…”

You dig your nails into the meat of his thighs and inadvertently pull him closer. He stumbles forward, his breath knocked out of him despite how little you’d done so far. “W-wait,” he wheezes, shock running down his spine. “I––”

You smirk at him, digging harder until you’re sure to leave white little crescents littered around his thigh. “Aha. I guessed you’d be into that. You liked it when I bit you yesterday, didn’t you?”

Jungkook can’t even answer. He’s trying to keep his breathing steady, squeezing his eyelids shut. He hears you shuffling in front of him, and he soon senses your body press closer to him, alerting him that you have stood up. You wrap your arms around his neck, bending his head down until he can feel your breath fan across his lips.

Are you going to kiss him? But the contact doesn’t come; instead, your hands snake up to his hair, massaging his scalp for a moment before tugging on his roots harshly. It pulls a whine from his lips, the response surprising even himself. “S-shit,” he grits his teeth, urging you to do it again. He opens his eyes slightly, sees you watching him with rapt attention.

You lick your lips, looking at him like a meal ready to be eaten. The heat in his stomach builds, but Jungkook doesn’t have it in him to be embarrassed anymore. He doesn’t really have any more room in his brain anymore other than his unabashedly horny thoughts.

“Pain slut, huh? Somehow, it suits you.” You sound breathy, as if you were the one being pleasured instead. It makes Jungkook’s cock twitch a little, coming to life in front of you as you continue to assault his nerves.

“Do you like pain everywhere?” Your hands leave his head, coming down to the edge of his shirt. It’s a silent request, and Jungkook allows you to lift up his sweater, leaving him completely bare before you. You throw it somewhere to your right, eyes raking him up and down. Something about you still being fully clothed makes Jungkook’s inside light on fire, and it rushes blood down south before he can even understand why.

You chuckle, looking at his hardened nipples with interest. “Pierced? What a naughty boy you are.” You flick him there experimentally, and when Jungkook’s breath hitches, that gives you a go sign to do more. You fiddle around with the rosy bud some more, circling it with the pads of your fingers until Jungkook was a whining mess before you. “Sensitive… What a prize you are, Jungkook.”

Jungkook keens at the praise, even though he knows you didn’t really mean it in a good way. He finds himself wanting to please you: to get himself hard for you, to make you want him like how he wants you. He honestly can’t tell if you’re enjoying this as much as him, other than the way you’re watching him closely like a hawk.

He’s nearly half-hard, his cock jutting against your stomach. You peer down, figuring out your next move as he holds his breath, afraid he might do something wrong. Your fingers move once more, tracing shapes across his stomach and causing the muscles there to contract. He anticipates your next movements, his dick steadily throbbing.

“I suppose the easiest way to get you hard is to touch you here, right?” you murmur lowly. You grip him by the hips all of a sudden, your thumbs placed firmly into his Adonis’ belt. You inch closer and closer to where he wants you the most, and you watch him amusedly as he clamps down on his bottom lip, unwilling to sound desperate so early in the game.

(Was it early though? He’s been thinking about this exact scenario since last night, even plaguing his dreams. Still, it wouldn’t look cool if he just… busted a nut just from having his dick out. Even he knew that was kinda sad.)

Despite his best efforts, perhaps the desperation is apparent on his face because you eventually do take pity on him. You wrap your fingers around his length, not moving just yet. You smile secretly to yourself when you hear Jungkook exhale and swallow audibly, but you’re waiting for something. You look up at him, batting your eyelashes innocently as if you didn’t have his dick in your hands.

“What do good boys say when they want something?” You’re fishing, but your teasing tone breaks Jungkook down enough to release a ragged moan. He places his hands on your shoulder, using you for support as you slowly inch your hand down to the base of his cock.

He can’t keep the whine out of his voice when he says, “P...Please. Move?”

Your grin is wicked. “Of course, baby.”

Yeah, if you keep this up, Jungkook is going to come embarrassingly fast and he doesn’t think you’ll be quite pleased with that.

There is pre-cum leaking at the tip of his cock, dangerously close to pooling over and dripping all over your carpet. You are quick to swipe it off with your thumb, dragging it down his shaft for an easier slide. Jungkook’s abs tense, his teeth clamping on his bottom lip so aggressively that he almost splits it open. His grip on your shoulders tighten, but you don’t mind. You keep stroking him languidly, not going fast enough for Jungkook’s liking, but the concentration on your face is enough to make Jungkook release a stilted moan. It doesn’t take long until the wet squelch of your hand jerking him fills the room, coupled with the sound of Jungkook’s labored breathing.

“You’re really wet,” you chuckle, watching with fascination as your words urge another drop of pre-cum to collect at his tip. “Are you always like this?”

“N-not… Really?” It takes a while for Jungkook’s brain to connect, caught between wanting to keep his eyes shut and wanting to stare at your cute hands trying to wrap around his dick. Your fingers can’t even circle the girth of his cock, the realization almost making Jungkook come there and then.

He’d never been one to be overly confident about his penis size, to be honest. He doesn’t really go around proclaiming it to the world, and his meager body count doesn’t help the fact that most people are unaware of the extent of his package. He isn’t itching to tell people either, but he’s starting to see why people would be envious of having a large dick. The sight of you struggling to pump his cock really makes for a pretty picture.

“Ugh, my arm is getting tired,” you complain after a while, getting frustrated when you realize that Jungkook is almost fully hard, but not quite. “Jeez. Your dick is so huge that it really takes a minute for the fuel tank to fill up, huh?”

“I-I’m sorry?” Jungkook wheezes, nearly crying out when you flick your wrist in just the right manner. Your hand pauses by the head of his dick, squeezing tightly enough not to be painful, much to his disappointment. Jungkook is still too shy to ask for more.

You let go of him all of a sudden, causing a guttural whine to escape Jungkook’s lips. Ignoring him, you nudge him back a few steps, Jungkook complying wordlessly. He’s still confused until you reach over to your bed, grabbing one of your pillows before dropping to your knees. Jungkook’s jaw drops, spluttering incomprehensibly as you cushion your knees with the pillow.

You look up, giggling amusedly. “Reminds you of last night, huh? Not gonna lie, I’ve been itching to have your cock in my mouth, though I’m not even sure if any of it can fit. That’s not gonna stop me from trying.”

Oh God. Oh Geez. Jungkook is going to die, isn’t he? He vaguely remembers his dream from the night before, how your pretty pink lips had stretched over his dick, barely going past his head. He whines pathetically, another string of pre-cum finally dripping down and landing on your thighs.

You hold him by his hips, preventing him from moving as your hot breath fans across his wet head. You lick your lips, taking one glance up at him before giving his tip a quick peck. It’s nothing to write home about, but the way Jungkook’s breath catches is enough to encourage you to do more. You suckle his head a little, suctioning your lips and moaning slightly at the bitter tang. Your eyes flutter shut, tongue swirling nondescript patterns as you greedily engrave his taste into your mind.

The image of you enjoying yourself is enough to get Jungkook fully hard. He feels like he’s on fire, from his flushed cheeks all the way to his groin. He doesn’t know where to put his hands, unsure if you’d allow him to pull on your hair.

You must have noticed his plight, because one of your hands leaves his hips to grasp his own, bringing it to your hair. You pop off his dick for a second, lips already redder than before. Jungkook wishes he could kiss you, but he’s still so unsure. “You can pull my hair, but if you push me down further than I’m willing to go, I’m stopping immediately, okay?” Your voice is authoritative and your gaze is steely, but it only prompts Jungkook to moan in reply.

He nods, nearly getting whiplash from how quickly his head bobs. You smirk, appeased by his obedience. You return to your ministrations, rewarding him by going further down and bobbing your head at a snail’s pace.

Jungkook’s sanity is barely hanging onto a thread. He wants to thrust into your wet mouth, never having felt this sort of pleasure in his life. He’s beginning to understand why Jimin is such a slut, and he wonders why on earth he’s been denying himself things like this. His eyes are half-lidded, but he’s determined to watch you as your masterful tongue brings him to the edge of hysteria.

When Jungkook doesn’t think your mouth can go further down, you surprise him once again. You go lower, and Jungkook feels your throat swallow around him until he nearly screams. Drool pools in the inside of his mouth, as if Jungkook’s body doesn’t know what to do with the pleasure. His legs nearly give out, but your hands keep him mounted.

His toes are curling, thighs trembling. “Fuck,” he whines, unable to stop himself when he thrusts a little into your mouth. “Shit, I didn’t mean to–”

You glance up at him. Your eyes are tearing up, but otherwise you look unperturbed. You flatten your tongue on the underside of his dick, tracing the vein there as you slowly come up for air. You swallow the mix of saliva and pre-cum in your mouth, licking your lips like you’ve just had a 5-star meal. You look absolutely debauched, though Jungkook knows he’s probably not doing much better.

“No gag reflex. It’s fine,” you shrug, as if you’d just told him about the weather. Your voice sounds hoarse, roughened by the assault of his dick on your throat. “Are you close?”

Jungkook doesn’t want to admit it, but– “Yes,” he says. He’s breathing like he’s just run a marathon, sweat dripping down his neck. You observe it drip down his body, as it curves down his neck and to his chest.

“You aren’t coming until I say so, got it?” You warn. He nods, cock twitching in desperation for your mouth to continue what it was doing.

But instead, you reach back to your bed, and Jungkook finally notices the tape measure that you’d left there. Oh right. Jungkook is brought back to reality, suddenly remembering why he’d gone here in the first place.

“This will only take a second, baby,” you whisper lowly, and Jungkook’s conscience is shot out of his head once more. Call him baby one more time, and Jungkook is sure to bust his load. He’s worried he might gain a Pavlovian response to the word; getting hard every time someone so much as utters “baby” for whatever reason.

You unravel the measuring tape, placing the end of it near the base of his member. You drag it over his length, whistling in awe as the number keeps growing and growing. “Shit, you really are huge,” you gasp in amazement, peering closely at the measurement to make sure you aren’t reading it wrong. “Nearly nine inches. Are you insane?”

Jungkook chuckles in embarrassment, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s… nothing?”

You snort, shaking your head at the pure audacity of this boy in front of you. “No need to humblebrag, baby. Unless you want me to degrade you, then stop being coy with me.”

At the word “degrade,” Jungkook’s erection twitches with interest. Of course, you notice. “Oh? You want me to degrade you?”

Jungkook’s face heats up, forever astonished by your brazenness. “N-no! That’s not what I–”

“You want me to call your cock pathetic, huh? Is that what you want?”

Jungkook whines, shifting from foot to foot as he tries to avoid your lustful gaze. “I…”

“Want me to call you names, huh? Took your cock so long to get hard, struggled so much to get it up. What a useless dick that you have…” you trail off, covering your mouth behind your hand to hide your grin.

Jungkook feels like he’s about to fall over. The pressure in between his legs is reaching his breaking point, and Jungkook really doesn’t want to embarrass himself by coming untouched. He has a sinking suspicion you’d enjoy it if he did, however.

Your hand slides back to his crotch, cupping his erection once more. You run your palm along him once, enjoying the way his breath hitches. He’s undeniably close and it fills you with pride knowing that you did this to him. “You’re close.” You say it like a fact.

Jungkook squirms. “Please… Faster… I’m so close, Y/N. Just a lil bit more, please…”

“I love it when you beg,” you laugh, sounding a little mean. “But since you’ve been nice all this time, I’ll let you.”

Your hands speed up, twisting and pulling him in ways that Jungkook isn’t sure are possible. He’s full-on panting like a fucking dog right now, humping shallowly into your hand like he’s lost his mind. He’s so unbelievably close, the heat in his stomach climbing higher and higher until––

“SHIT! Y/N!”

You stop, confused. That shout didn’t sound like Jungkook. You turn to your closed door, ears straining for the sound again. “Yoongi?” you call out. “Did you say something?”

Muffled footsteps come rushing closer. Your doorknob jiggles, but Jungkook had thankfully locked it when he’d come into the room earlier. Yoongi huffs from behind the door, banging loudly on the frame. “Y/N! Help! I fucking dropped the cheesecake!”

“He dropped the cheesecake,” you repeat dully to yourself. You share a look with Jungkook. The banging doesn’t stop.

“Y/N PLEASEEE THE KITCHEN IS A MESS!” Yoongi screams, uncaring of whatever he was interrupting. “YOU OWE ME! I PAID FOR YOUR RENT LAST MONTH SO YOU GOTTA HELP!”

“I hate that bastard,” you sigh, defeated. You let go of Jungkook reluctantly, giving him an apologetic look. Jungkook wants to cry. “I’m… really sorry for leaving you again like this. I…” you hesitate, looking at the door then back to him. “I do kind of owe him, so…”

Jungkook exhales shakily, bending down to the floor to pick his shirt up. He dresses quietly, cheeks burning. Why must you keep torturing him like this? He thinks his balls might explode at this point. “It’s no problem… I’ll just take care of myself at home.”

You peer at him, feeling incredibly guilty. “I have a connecting bathroom. You could use it if you want?”

“That’d be great, thanks.” Jungkook says before hurriedly rushing out of there. He refuses to look at you as he slams the bathroom door shut, breathing slowly through his nostrils in an attempt to calm himself. He waits as he listens for you to leave before his hands scramble back onto his dick, loudly crying out as he tugs himself to completion.

His legs give out from under him as he slides down to the floor, spurts of hot cum flying past his fist. Wave after wave of pleasure tingles down his spine as he slides up and down his cock. After his dick shoots its last droplet of cum, Jungkook slams his head against your bathroom wall. He’s exhausted.

He closes his eyes, thinks about how his life has led him up to this moment. Jizzing in some near stranger’s home while one of his best friends cleans up his fallen cheesecake.

“Jesus fucking Christ I hate it here,” he says. He gets up unsteadily, washing his hands of his mess.

x x x x x

Fully dressed and unsatisfyingly sated, Jungkook exits your bathroom with a flush down his neck. He keeps his eyes averted from you, but not before glaring heatedly at Yoongi as he turns to leave. Yoongi cocks his head to the side, annoyingly unaware of what he had done.

“You okay, dude? You look like a bull ready to pummel me,” Yoongi snickers, bemused by Jungkook’s flared nostrils. “Seriously. You okay?”

You slap Yoongi on the thigh, huffing angrily as you stay squatted on the floor, your other hand busy wiping off the cheesecake from the floor with a paper towel. “Shut up. You’ve done enough shitheadery today.”

Yoongi looks at the mounted clock on your fridge. “It’s only 7PM. My shitheadery doesn’t clock out until 10PM today.”

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook waves his goodbye. “Well. I guess I’ll see you guys,” he murmurs, inching closer to the door. He walks out in silence, no longer bothering to hide his pouting. He takes the elevator down, ruminating on his existence. When he reaches the ground floor, his phone immediately dings with a notification.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ hey. please don’t hate me. i’m really sorry. raincheck?

Jungkook snorts, stopping in his tracks. It’s always just rainchecks with you. He types up a quick response.

from: jjk it’s not your fault. it’s fine.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ you sure? you got off well by yourself at least, right?

from: jjk yeah. don’t worry about it.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ if you’re down… i could help you through the phone? when you get home? :( i just feel really bad. like, genuinely. yoongi is an asshole.

The offer sounds interesting, but sadly, Jungkook is out of juice for the day. He’s got a lot of stamina for many things, but it turns out he’s out of practice when it comes to his own dick.

from: jjk nah it’s fine. thanks though.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ i hope you’re still down for the contest? doyoung texted me while we were busy a while ago and said that they were free tomorrow after 12?

from: jjk no worries. i’ll be there.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ <3 ty you’re the best!! <3

He groans, slapping himself in the face. God, he is so fucking whipped.

x x x x x

The next day, Jungkook wakes up with a burning headache. He feels hungover even though he didn’t drink at all the night before, and Jungkook wonders if his brain had somehow deflated overnight with how hollow he feels. He grabs his phone from his bed stand, sees a new text from you reminding him of what he’d promised.

You had sent him an address to another apartment complex just a few bus stops away from where he lives and he assumes this must be either Doyoung’s or Taeyong’s place. He shuts his eyes for another few moments, trying his best to remember how to live.

It’s already nearing noon, so he needs to get going if he doesn’t want to be late. He shudders to think what you might do if he ghosts you. Despite how guilty you were yesterday for leaving him mid-nut, he doesn’t think that debt will cover him if he chooses not to show up to the dick-measuring contest.

On the bus, he fidgets in his seat, picking at the rips in his jeans and doing anything to keep his mind busy. He keeps thinking that someone knows what he’s up to, paranoia eating him from the inside out as he darts his eyes left and right, hoping no one can actually read minds. The bus is relatively empty, with only him and an elderly couple sitting near the front. They seem none the wiser, though Jungkook fears what they would think if they knew what he was up to.

He almost wishes he was wearing Seokjin’s thot shorts, as the skimpy excuse of clothing had somehow given him some sort of confidence the day before. Gone is that false sense of (misplaced) bravado; instead, Jungkook is filled with anxiety at the prospect of showing a couple of strangers his dick.

(A fairly human response, but that doesn’t help Jungkook’s current case.)

He arrives at the apartment complex in record time, and he sees you standing by the entrance. You look well-rested, your hands fiddling with your phone. Jungkook has only ever seen you when you were wearing that revealing dress from the club and your pajamas from your home, so he’s kind of shocked to see you look cute in your simple white dress and jean jacket. Not that you didn’t look good those other times, but seeing you look like a normal university student is astonishing, for lack of better word.

You almost look like a regular girl just waiting for her date to pick her up.

“Hey!” You greet him cheerily when you see him approach, waving at him. He waves back, the apples of his cheeks dusted pink from his previous thoughts. She’s not your date, you weirdo. Wait, she’s the weirdo. Get it together man! This shit is fucked up.

“This is their place, I assume?” Jungkook asks, looking at the building. It appears almost identical to your own apartment complex, minus the mini water fountain at the front. Ah, the wonders of living in a concrete jungle.

“Yep,” you nod. You start walking towards the entrance, with Jungkook following closely. “You ready? God, I can’t wait to see Doyoung’s stupid face. He’s gonna be so pissed!”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Jungkook mutters, vibrating with nerves.

You both make your way to the apartment, with you humming quietly while he sweats profusely beside you. At least one of you is having fun, he thinks grimly to himself. You reach apartment 322, knocking three times before a boy with neat black hair opens the door.

“Y/N! Good to see you,” the boy says, reaching for a hug. You hug him back enthusiastically, ignoring Jungkook’s bemused stares. If this boy is either Doyoung or Taeyong, aren’t you supposed to… hate both of their guts? Or at least, not be friends? What even is going on?

When you step back, you point at Jungkook offhandedly. “Oh yeah, this is Jungkook. The guy I’m dating.”

Jungkook nearly chokes on his own spit, but luckily the boy doesn’t notice. Right… You guys are supposed to be dating. It’s not real, though. Get a grip! “Hi, I’m Jungkook,” he wheezes, shaking the other guy’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you…”

“I’m Doyoung,” he introduces himself, a small smile on his lips. “Nice to meet you too. I’ve heard… a lot about you, so to speak.”

Jungkook squeaks, earning a chuckle from Doyoung. “No need to be embarrassed. I think we’re way past that point now. Sorry for roping you into this, by the way. But when Y/N wants to fight, well… Let’s just say I’m not going to be the first one who backs down.”

“Says the dude who couldn’t even beat me at arm wrestling,” you snort, pushing past Doyoung and walking into his home. Doyoung rolls his eyes, gesturing for Jungkook to come in.

“Props to you for dating her, by the way. I’ve been friends with that demon since elementary school, so I know what she’s like. You must be a guy with strong willpower,” Doyoung says.

“I’m… Sorry for saying this, but I’m kind of confused? I didn’t know you guys were friends,” Jungkook says, examining Doyoung’s apartment. It’s a lot bigger than yours, though he does recall you saying that Doyoung was filthy rich. It’s a lot more modern looking for sure, as Jungkook can see that Doyoung has two industrial-sized refrigerators in his kitchen. What kind of university student needs two industrial-sized refrigerators?

“Yeah, we are. She actually only dated Taeyong because she knew we both liked each other but I was too stubborn to make a move, so she did the only thing she knew how to do: be an asshole,” he explains simply. Jungkook nods, needing no further clarification.

“Jungkook! Come with me,” you pop out from one of the doorways deeper in the apartment, beckoning him closer. You point at Doyoung, “And you. Get Taeyong ready. I’m gonna need a few minutes to get Jungkook in tip-top shape!”

Doyoung chuckles, shoving Jungkook towards you. “Well, that’s my cue. I’ll introduce you to Taeyong later, I guess. He’s in my bedroom, so we’ll come out in about 20 minutes? That should be enough time, right?”

Yeah. Right. Jungkook walks numbly towards you, arms rigged by his sides as you pull him into Doyoung’s spare bathroom. You lock the door close, whirling around to face him with your hands on your hips. You’ve rolled your sleeves up, appearing like a demented surgeon preparing to dissect him. “Well! Strip!”

Jungkook is clumsy when he unbuttons his jeans, his entire body feeling like it’s being weighed down by pounds of lead. He shucks them off, leaving him in his boxers (thankfully, with no holes in them. He made sure to double-check before he left this morning.) You appraise him silently, thinking of what to do next.

Before Jungkook can say anything, your hands are already on his chest, pointer fingers placed near his nipples. His piercings are visible through his thin shirt, much to your appreciation. You circle them lazily, much like how you did yesterday.

Jungkook can’t relax long enough to enjoy it, however. His shoulders are tense, fists clenched behind his back. He’s trying to stop thinking about what’s going to happen, trying to enjoy your touch. He grits his teeth, swallowing thickly.

“I… I can’t do this, Y/N.” he mumbles. “I don’t think I can get hard. I’m too nervous.”

You pause in your movements. “You’re nervous?” you purr, voice lowering. Jungkook stops fidgeting to stare at you, sensing the shift in your demeanor. “How can I alleviate that, hmm?”

“What?”

You pinch his nipples, hard. He gasps, whimpering right after from the jolt of pain. “I think I know how to calm you down,” you murmur, staring him down like he’s nothing more than a delicious snack.

“You want me to hurt you, huh? Is that it? Answer me, slut.” You say those words, but there’s a small bit of hesitation in your expression, like you’re worried if he truly likes it. When he nods enthusiastically, urging you to go on, you smile softly at him. His heart hammers in his chest, a small case of butterflies beginning to erupt there. You look kinda cute, even if you have his nipples in a twist.

“If it’s too much, just say ‘dumbo’ and I’ll stop, okay?” Jungkook nods once more, eager to get going.

You smirk, letting go of his nipples and gripping his hips instead. Your thumbs stay innocently above his boxers. “Do you like it when I call you names too, huh? You like being pinched and prodded?”

Jungkook whines, already turning needy. The anxiety from a while ago slowly drains away, leaving only lust to cloud his mind. “N-no, I just…”

“No?” You laugh, your thumbs catching on the garter of his boxers and pulling them down until the tip of his cock peeks out, already in the midst of getting hard. “Then what’s this?”

“Nggh…” Jungkook can’t say anything, can only stare helplessly at you.

“Pathetic. You have a nine-inch cock but it’s good for nothing except earning me a bit of money. Shame, isn’t it? Would be nice if you knew how to use it, then maybe I’d let you fuck me,” you say, edging closer to him until your lips find his exposed collarbones. You suck harshly, giddy when color immediately blooms at the spot. You thread your fingers into his dark, fluffy hair – and tug.

It’s too much all at once – Jungkook isn’t ready for any of it at all. He’s panting, whining, drooling a little. He shimmies his hips a little, his boxers sliding down his thighs and onto the marble floor. His cock springs free, already dripping pre-cum but still only half-hard.

“Ah, there it is. Your big useless cock. My, my… Already dirtying Doyoungie’s floor with your slick, huh? You gonna make the floor wet, baby?”

Jungkook garbles something; did he say something? Who knows. All he knows right now is that 1) you’re making him lose his marbles and 2) he’s embarrassingly close. He’s never gotten this hard so fast in his entire life, and he might be suffering from blood loss or something. His head feels light, like he’s floating. His entire body is thrumming, senses filled with nothing but you.

You gently lead him closer to the bathtub where you sit, still paying no attention to his weeping arousal. Your mouth is dangerously close to it though, but you make no move to hold him in your mouth. Instead, you hike your skirt up until it reaches your waist, revealing your white panties. Jungkook zeroes in on the darkening patch, a shuddering breath leaving his lungs. He’s screwed.

“Show me how you pleasured yourself yesterday, when you were in my bathroom,” you say, caressing the front of your panties. You grind against your palm, eyelashes fluttering as your jaw drops into an ‘o’. You exhale through your nose, laughing breathily. “If you do well, then maybe I’ll show you what I did when you left, hmm?”

Jungkook has never moved faster in his life than he did then. He takes his erection into his hands, sighing with relief when he begins to pump. He moves slower than he usually would, unwilling to finish so soon after getting this far. He’s already wound up from your teasing (and if you count the past few days, then let’s say he’s been edged long enough.)

You study him with sharp eyes, focusing on the movement of his hands. “That’s it. It must be easy jerking off with how wet you are, huh?”

“Y-yeah.” Jungkook speeds up, flicking his wrist and focusing on the sensitive tip of his cock. His attention is pulled when he sees you shift from the corner of his eye. His grip stutters when you push your panties to the side, giving him a full view of your glistening core. He licks his lips, aching to put his mouth there but only if you’d allow him.

“Why’d you stop?” You stretch your leg out, using your foot to urge his wrist to keep moving. “Come on. I want to see you.”

You circle your clit leisurely before dipping your fingers into your pussy two fingers at a time, wet enough for the slide to be smooth. Jungkook quickens his pace, wanting to match your speed. He watches, mesmerized, at the sight of your fingers pushing in and out.

The obscene sounds coming from the both of you is loud enough to mask Jungkook’s desperate mewls. He’s going faster now, wanting nothing more than to cum all over you and your pussy. You’d look good in his cum, the pearly droplets would look good in contrast with your perfect skin.

Your thighs are shaking, your own breathing shallow as you quickly approach your end. You’re moaning in tandem with him, your arousal coating your fingers generously as it begins to run down the back of your hand. You’re scissoring yourself, but it’s barely enough when you compare it to Jungkook’s cock. No, nothing would be enough to prepare you to take him. He’d ruin you, and the thought of him breaking you is enough to help you tip over the edge.

“Fuuuuuuck,” you moan, eyes screwing shut as you are wrought with the strongest orgasm of your life. More wetness drips out of you as you rub frantically at your clit, riding your high. You look at Jungkook through your eyelashes, lips parted. “Fuck,” you repeat.

Jungkook can’t hold back anymore. He knows he shouldn’t cum but the pleasure is skyrocketing at an unparalleled speed. His balls tighten, the heat in his abdomen building until he can’t hold back even if he tried. He shudders once, twice, before jets of his cum spills from over his fist, some of the droplets making their way onto your thighs. He moans at the sight, doesn’t try to change his trajectory as his mind is completely hazed with lust. “Shit, I’m–” Jungkook grinds one last time into his hand, before promptly slumping down onto the floor.

“Jesus, that was a lot of cum,” he hears you say, but he can’t bring himself to look at you. He’s ashamed, having cummed without your permission. He can feel his dick softening underneath him, and he dimly remembers that hadn’t been the plan at all. He was supposed to get hard, have his dick measured, and then finish if he was allowed. And now, he ruined everything because he couldn’t hold himself back.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” he mutters quietly, hiding behind his cum-stained hands. He cringes when the mess enters his eyes, wiping his palm somewhere on his leg. “Fuck. I messed everything up. You were just… It was too much… You…”

“Should’ve used your safety word, Jungkook.”

“It wasn’t because it was bad,” Jungkook’s cheeks flush, “It was… too good.”

You kneel beside him, cradling his chin and forcing him to look at you. He had been afraid to see disappointment in your eyes, so he’s absolutely surprised to see you look… amused. You’re even giggling a little.

“Sorry. I went a bit overboard. Even I get horny sometimes,” you shrug, wiping a bit of cum away from his forehead. Your own fingers are slick with your own cum, so really, you were just making a bigger mess of his face. Jungkook can’t say he’s opposed to a little mess. “You just looked so good that I couldn’t help myself.”

“You… enjoyed yourself, too? I’m not insane for thinking there’s something between us?”

“Honestly, you’re at least a little bit insane,” you laugh at his dumbfounded expression. “What? I’m cuckoo, and you know it. The fact that you got turned on by me even after all I’d done to you… Really puts you into perspective, huh?”

Jungkook grumbles, but he’s no longer frowning. “I guess. My friends tell me I have a type, and I guess you fit the bill.”

You laugh wholeheartedly at that, and it brings a smile to Jungkook’s face. He likes it when you laugh, he decides. “Same here. I guess you’re my type, too.”

You peer down at his flaccid dick. “Too bad about your meat flute, though. Unless you can get it back up in the next 2 minutes, then I don’t think you’re getting that three grand.”

“Please don’t call my dick that,” Jungkook says before shrugging his shoulders. “And it’s no worries. I had the biggest nut of my life and that’s good enough to me. Plus, you said you’d give me one thousand dollars if I agreed to help you out, so you better not back out on that.”

You snigger, patting him gently on the shoulder. “Yeah, whatever. But not before we get out of here and you fuck my brains out, got it? You need to work for it, baby.”

Is it bad that his cock was already beginning to stir once more? Unprecedented, as it usually took Jungkook ages to get back up. Maybe you really were the one for him.

“Deal. Let’s get out of here?”

When the two of you finish getting cleaned up and leave the bathroom with no evidence that you had even been there, Doyoung doesn’t even bat an eye as you walk past him, eager to get out of the door. Taeyong is lounging on the couch with his dick… mysteriously still in his pants, as if he had no intention of taking them off in the first place.

“Sorry, we need to leave. There’s an emergency we have to attend to. See you, Doyoungie!” You tug Jungkook along, who waves his own hasty goodbye.

The door clicks shut, leaving the couple alone once more. Taeyong grins up at Doyoung, “You really are amazing, Doyoung. How’d you know she’d end up with him?”

Doyoung flicks open his phone, showing Taeyong his text messages with none other than Kim Seokjin himself. “All according to keikaku, my love. Kim Seokjin always wins.”

#networkbangtan #armiesnet #btsghostie #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts reader insert #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #bts #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts jungkook #bangtan #bts fanfic #no more smut for 2020......... NO MORE #next fic is angst idc anymore I NEED TO CLEANSE MYSELF AHHHHHH

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

Text

Make it back to me - Andy Barber smut

The one where Andy fulfills his promise and gives you a future together.

Warnings: smut, daddy kink, insecure!Andy for a minute there, divorce, talks of infidelity because reader was the other woman, breeding kink

A/N: this is technically a follow-up to this drabble I wrote during kinktober!

Andy’s P.O.V.

My heart was pounding against my chest even before her beautiful face appeared from the office’s door. It was clear that she was confused, but I was too excited about it to even be able to verbalize what had happened and what we were about to do. So the plan was to just show her.

“You know, I usually like surprises, but this one is freaking me out,” she commented, and I laughed, throwing a glance at the rearview mirror before taking us out of the firm’s parking lot. I rubbed my thumbs on her knees, squeezing it in a hopefully reassuring gesture while I hummed a random song that had been stuck in my head since earlier.

I still couldn’t believe it.

I thought that maybe she would have connected the dots when I parked in an apartment complex’s garage, but by the inquisitive look she threw me, it was clear that wasn’t the case at all. So I laughed when I held her hand, kissing the back of it before pulling her along with me, up the stairs to the front hall.

“Andy, are you crazy? We can’t be holding hands in public like this. What if someone from the firm lives here and sees us together?” She whisper-shouted, and an euphoric feeling took over my chest at the realization of just how incredible my life was.

“Someone from the firm does live here,” I conceded, hugging her from behind and leaning down to fit my chin on her shoulder. “Me.” Saying it out loud only made it feel even more real, especially since she whipped her head to try to get a look at me, in an effort to understand just what I meant.

“What?” I only laughed, reaching out for her hand again and giving it a squeeze when the elevator doors opened, immediately stepping out to look for the door I held the key to. “Andy, what do you mean?”

I only smiled, patiently opening the door before letting her walk in and following behind. “Sweetheart… Meet my new apartment.” Once more, her head whipped around to stare at me, interrupting her visual exploration of the new environment.

“Andy…”

“I’m divorced,” I interrupted, effectively shutting her up. “It was finalized this morning. I talked to Laurel the day after that party. The day you got your promotion. I didn’t tell you before because I wanted it to be a sure thing,” I immediately explained when I saw her open her mouth to interject, but then she closed it, nodding as she accepted my justification.

“So while I waited for it to be processed, I bought this place. Do you like it? I was hoping you’d move in with me, I can’t wait to christen every room of this apartment.” Once again, she seemed surprised by my words, stopping her evaluation of the living room to stare at me with eyes twice their usual size.

“But you just… Andy, you just got divorced. Quite literally. You can’t tell me you want to immediately jump into the routine of a relationship again.” Frowning, I stepped forward, in her direction, arms reaching out to hold her hips so I could keep her in place while I tried to understand her emotions.

“You don’t want to be in a relationship with me?” My heart ached at the prospect, but she only huffed, rolling her eyes at me. Immediately, I felt somewhat comforted, although still confused about what was going on through her head.

“Of course I want to be in a relationship with you, you dummy. I just… I fear you’re jumpin too soon into this, and that you’ll grow to resent me. I don’t want to lose you.” Hearing her voice my own fears only made the need to have her closer rise within me, so before I could even realize what I was doing, I had her face cradled between my hands and our lips were connected again, as they always should be.

“And I don’t want to lose you,” I decided to voice it, so she could understand exactly where all of this was coming from, how it wasn’t simply a spur-of-the-moment gesture, any of it. “So what do you think I should do? Keep our relationship without strings, fearing that any moment now someone else will come and sweep you off of your feet? I don’t want to fuck anyone else, sweetheart. And I’ve been dreaming about living all of this domestic shit with you for a while, now. My marriage with Laurel didn’t end because I suddenly despised my ring, it ended because I didn’t love her anymore. But I love you. And I want this with you. Only you.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Now, what else could I possibly say? This was everything I had dreamed about, everything I’d been wishing for since day one, since my eyes connected with Andy’s and we shook hands in the office. And here he was, offering me a future together on a silver platter and I couldn’t find it in myself to fight against it anymore, even if the rational part of me thought this was a mistake.

Or maybe it was only my anxiety speaking, trying to get me to chicken out, to run away, convince me that this isn’t real and I’m not worthy of all of this love. Because the truth was, I was scared. Scratch that, I was downright *terrified. Because somewhere between the stolen kisses and the longing glances, I’d fallen head over heels for the man standing in front of me, who just poured his heart out in search of mine, and I never wanted to lose him.

“Okay,” was all I managed to say, instead, all I could get out. “Okay, let’s do this.” But still, maybe because Andy really was my long-lost soulmate, he seemed to understand. He managed to read between the lines, hear my devotion and my love in those simple words. I knew it because his eyes lit up, and just like that, I was being embraced by those delicious arms again, held like I was the most precious thing he had ever encountered and the only thing he needed to be happy.

He was everything to me.

“I love you, sweetheart.” Everything felt different, every pet name, every touch. It was sweeter, purer. There was no overwhelming pressure of rushing through this, trying to escape the sin, the guilt. This man was mine, now. I could finally relish every single second of this experience.

“I’ve wanted you since we’ve met,” I finally managed to admit it, making sure to look him in the eye so he could see just how serious I was about this. “I’m just so happy we finally get to be together, like… like a real couple.”

His soft smile was the reason for my heart faltering at times, and when he paired it with light brushes over my cheekbone with his thumbs, it was powerful enough to make me weak in the knees. Still, because it was Andy, after all, he couldn’t help but to tease me - I knew I should expect it from the mischief in his eyes.

“So, everything we did before, it doesn’t count?” I huffed at the same time he started laughing, barely seeing me rolling my eyes at his childish behavior since he had tears in his. And despite how much I wanted to be annoyed at him for ruining such a beautiful moment, I could only feel warm inside from seeing him this happy, and being here to share this new beginning of his.

“You know what? No, it doesn’t, daddy. You’re gonna have to get me reacquainted with your cock all over again. Are you up for the challenge?” He laughed out loud at this, beautiful face suddenly looking boyish as his eyes closed for a moment. so that he could fully enjoy his happiness.

Andy’s P.O.V.

“When you look this fuckable? It won’t be a challenge at all, darling.” I watched with perverse pleasure as she shivered from my words, eyes suddenly darkening with lust as she bit her lower lip. “Now c’mon. Let’s start christening this place.”

My first step was the bedroom, of course. I had bought a new bed with the sole intention of ravishing her on it. Sleep was secondary. “Take off your clothes,” I commanded as soon as we were inside the new room, quickly taking off my shirt before sitting on the mattress. “Slowly,” I added when I saw her initially run to obey, but then a small smile painted her beautiful lips as her movements became more fluid.

“Someone wants a show,” she teased, revealing her perfect body little by little, each new inch making the anticipation rise in me. Damn right I wanted a show. But any amount of time I got to spend with her was a spectacle of itself. She was the muse I once believed I would never find. “Like what you see?”

“Fuck yes. Come here.” She approached me slowly too, soft hands I knew too well running over her own body and making me desperate to be the one that was touching her. “I want to worship your body the way that you deserve it, after waiting for me for so long.”

I saw her eyes soften at that, her hands cradling my face when she was close enough to hop on my lap. “I’d wait even longer if I had to.” It made me happier than anything else, knowing that she was as happy with me as I was with her.

So I pulled her to meet my lips again, groaning as I got my taste of her - but it was enough. It would never be enough, especially now that I knew I was hers and hers only. And then she inadvertently started grinding against me and it almost had me falling back against the bed. “God, you’re hot,” I moaned as I watched from under my eyelashes the way that she moved for me and only me.

“I love when you talk dirty.” Her giggles were the sweetest sound I ever heard, and I loved to be the cause for them. But my need for her was so pressing, that I ended up cutting them short by pulling her for another kiss, while adjusting her until she was sitting on one of my thighs.

“That’s nothing, darling. You know just how dirty I can be, and you still haven’t seen everything I got up my sleeve. Come on, move those hips for me,” I directed, helping her ride my thigh by the grip I held on her ass.

“You know what I want to do to you?” I asked, my voice dropping a tone as I whispered in her ear, needing to see her cum for me for the first night that night. “I want to lick all over your skin without the fear of being interrupted,” I started, reminiscing about just how many things I wanted to experience with her now that we were officially together. “Do you know how great it will be now that what we’re doing isn’t improper?”

Y/N almost laughed, but it came out as a gasp as I flexed the muscles underneath her, making my thigh a bit harder for her to rub her sweet cunt against. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, we’ll definitely keep doing some pretty improper stuff…” I forced her to quicken her movements until she was cumming before my eyes, sweet, sweet whimpers falling from her lips as she struggled to catch her breath. “... I just won’t have to feel guilty about them anymore.”

As I turned us over to lay her body on the mattress, our lips dancing together once more, the realization that this was my life now making my head feel light with all the happiness inside of me. This was my bed, this was my woman and it was only just beginning.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Well, that’s a relief,” I teased, taking advantage of the little break that he had given my lips as he slowly but surely laid kissed around every inch of my chest. “For a second there, I thought you wouldn’t want to do dirty things to me anymore.”

That earned me a laugh, muffled by the way his lips were pressed against my neck and making me laugh by reflex, since his beard kept tickling me. “Oh, believe me, pretty girl… There’s a lot of dirty stuff I want to do to you. And I won’t lie, some of them are probably still going to happen in my office.”

I tried to swallow back a whimper that made its way to my lips as Andy licked a stripe up my neck, only stopping to nibble on my jaw before admitting to his plans. “After all, I really can’t control myself when you wear those tight skirts to work. But I don’t think they can really be blamed.”

Pink lips wrapped around my nipple and a gasp did escape me, my hands flying to hold Andy’s locks to keep him attached to my chest, but he had other ideas. “I just can’t seem to be able to be near you without desperately wanting you,” he finished, eyes connected to mine and mouth glistening with the saliva he had spread over my breasts. “You’re just too much of a temptation.”

Now, of course, after such a declaration, what can a girl do? I didn’t seem to find the words to vocalize just how I felt about him too, too busy trying to control my heart and clutching his shoulders while he sucked lovebites all over my exposed body. We didn’t really have to worry about them now, even if they would seem terribly unprofessional for some of the senior partners.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he urged, and I swallowed dryly before finally voicing, “I want your cock in my mouth, daddy. I want to make you feel good.” Andy audibly groaned at my request, quickly rolling off of me and discarding his pants while I assumed a familiar and very comfortable position between his legs.

My mouth watered at the sight of his already fully hardened member, and I reached out to replace his hand that was slowly jerking it off with mine, leaning down to give the head a small kitten lick just like I knew he liked to be teased.

“Fuck, darling,” he moaned, and I could feel myself growing wetter at the pure power that I felt at having this man so fucking needy for me. When I slowly started to suck on the head of his cock, making my way further down inch by inch, the signs of impatience that became evident in his body only made my desire grow.

“C’mon, pretty girl,” he half begged, half ordered, leg twisting behind me in an effort to control himself. “Take it all on your own, like you always do. Make me proud.” Shit, he knew just what to say to have me quickly gagging on his cock out of my own free will.

I didn’t even think twice before going down on him until my lips met his navel. If anything, the strangled moan he tried to stop, the way his hips instinctively raised up and blocked the air from my lungs, making my eyes water, only served as incentives for me to keep going, up and down, up and down, licking and swirling and sucking until my jaw started to hurt and still, I didn’t want to stop.

Andy’s P.O.V.

It was always a battle between allowing myself to spill in her delicious mouth or perfect pussy, but today, I had other plans - and they involved me having to exercise incredible restraint as I pulled her away from my member by her hair, chuckling at the whine she let out.

“Lay down,” I ordered nodding towards the bed, and she quickly did so, crawling on her hands and knees towards the center of the mattress, but just before she could reach it, I pulled her by her ankle and turned her around myself.

“Can’t wait to fill you, sweetheart.” I was impatient, that much was obvious, but I don’t think she minded by the way her hips thrusted back to meet my fingers as I fucked her open with them, using my thumb to rub her throbbing little clit. “Do you want that?”

She nodded, managing to hold eye contact but not capable of saying anything, her bottom lip held tightly by her teeth as she struggled to swallow the whines I begged to hear. “Beg me for it,” I ordered, picking up the pace and curling my digits until I was able to hit her sweet spot every time I thrusted into her tight channel. “I want to know how badly you want me, I want to see if it even *comes close to my own desire for you.”

A gasp was still all I received as a response, and I had to contain my smile as I slowed down my movements, making them sweeter but deeper. I knew what was holding her back, and it wasn’t the weakness of her desire when contrasted to mine. “It’s alright, darling. You can scream, you can cry out my name as loud as you want. We don’t have to be quiet anymore.”

When her eyes met mine again, I could see that she understood, but it was still hard for her to fully let go. So I picked up the pace of my fingers, leaning over her to suck a bruise on her collarbones before whispering in her ear, “C’mon, pretty girl. I’ve always loved to see you squirming, trying to keep those beautiful sounds in, but right now, I’m dying to hear you moan.”

Her orgasm was what finally made her lose control, cumming while screaming my name, making me grin from ear to ear and keep the pace of my digits until her hand covered my wrist, a silent plea for me to let her calm down. I allowed her that, pulling away from her with a brief kiss on the forehead before turning my attention to myself, curling my fist around my cock that twitched with only that slight stimulation, probably because of the debauched scene before me.

It didn’t take long for her small hand to cover mine, forcing myself to jerk the throbbing member as a sign that she was ready for more, now. And so I pulled her even closer, forcing her legs to open wider before I rubbed the head of my cock between her lower lips, gathering some of the moisture there.

“You ready?” Pushing into her for the first time was always incredible. Often, it’d take me back to that long night we’d spent trying to work on a difficult case, when it all became too much for both of us to handle and I gave into temptation, bending her over my desk before burying myself inside of her.

The way she gasped so prettily at the feeling of my cock stretching her open was still the same, and it mirrored the way I groaned at how her tight walls squeezed me as I tried to bottom out inside of her. “So fucking tight,” I noted, arms resting on each side of her face as I waited for us both to grow used to the feeling of being connected again.

I kissed her once more before starting to move, losing myself in the taste of her while she messed up my hair, running her fingers through it to hold onto the locks when I did start to fuck her against the mattress. The feeling of her hands traveling further south, until suddenly I felt her nails running down my back, had me jerking abruptly in surprise, the realization that now she could leave marks on my body only leaving me more desperate for her, to make her mine once and for all.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Fuck.” The way he gasped against my mouth was so pretty, I wanted to keep hearing it for the rest of my life. “You’re mine now, sweetheart. This is where you’ll spend the rest of your life, right here, getting filled by my cock over and over again.”

It didn’t seem like a bad future to have, especially when he squeezed my hips so tight, trying to control himself so this wouldn’t end so soon. “Fuck, no one can make me feel as good as you do, darling. No one.”

My body felt warm, like a fire had been lit inside, and the only thing that made it simultaneously more controlled and brighter was kissing him, feeling him connected to me, from his forehead to his toes.

I loved this man. God, I loved him, and it felt so good to be able to feel this way, without having any guilt attached to this wonderful feeling. Knowing that he was now mine and only mine, that I could give my whole heart to him without any fear, because he’d given me his.

It felt different this time, regardless of the dozens of times I’d had him inside of me. It was like we were both stripped to our very soul, finally getting to introduce them to each other, and there was a connection, a certain recognition that I just couldn’t put into words - especially not when he was fucking me this good. We just worked. It’s like despite how it all began, we were meant to be.

“Fuck, I love you so much.” And it was that declaration of love that had me clenching around him, reaching the high of desire that only he could show me. It didn’t surprise me that as soon as my orgasm began, he started to lose the rhythm of his thrusts, until he was groaning, “I’m cumming, I’m gonna cum inside of you, just like I promised, pretty girl.”

The reminder seemed to awaken every single nerve end on my body, and I gasped as I felt another orgasm building as his movements grew more frantic. “Don’t you want it? Don’t you want my cum? Say it, sweetheart. Say you want my cum.”

The reality of the situation hit me then, serving as an added stimulation to my already overworked body. He really wanted this. We were really doing this. “Yes, of course I want it. I want your cum, daddy.”

That was it for him. I watched as Andy threw his head back, eyes closed in bliss while his biceps bulged in an effort to keep him from falling on top of me. “Yessss… Make me a dad, Y/N,” he roared, suddenly pushing himself away from me to hold my legs open even wider, fingertips buried on the flesh of my thighs.

I felt his release paint my insides, and our eyes connected just then, acknowledging the weight of the moment between us. His hand reached out to stroke my chin before he carefully rolled us over so I could rest on his chest without him leaving me.

“I can’t believe we get to stay here for as long as we want,” he suddenly spoke, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen between us. “No more excuses, no more hiding. Just you and me, and this big and comfortable bed.”

“I can’t believe I get to fall asleep next to you…” I whispered, lightly tracing over his jawline until he turned to meet my eyes, hand holding my wrist tightly to catch my attention - as if it wasn’t already on him.

“I can’t believe you think you’ll be getting any sleep tonight.” And with that fortunate prediction into my future, I knew it would be full of giggles and satisfaction, just as long as I got to have Andy by my side.

#andy barber smut #smut #andy barber #my fics #andy barber reader #andy barber reader insert #andy barber x reader #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x you #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber oneshot #andy barber imagine

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lyrical-panic · 3 years

Note

Hello! So here's my request:

The 1-A girls including reader are having a girls night in one of their dorms playing Minecraft (teaching Momo how to play for the first time), giving out study tips, eating snacks and watching movies, etc... When their in a topic about their crushes and reader shyly tells them it is Tenya Iida... While the girls are shocked and ask a lot of questions why iida much to reader whos not really liking the questions, the girls decided to help reader out by setting both iida and reader on a date by grabbing readers phone and texting iida, much to readers protest and what the girls don't know is that the boys are having a boy night at the common room too and doing the exact same thing, helping iida out to finally ask reader on a date.

so yeah, haha that's all and you can add your own ideas there and can this be a oneshot? I also want to see the perspective of iida if that't possible? I hope this is okay? thank you!! ☺

Took a few liberties, included some personal touches, I’m really happy with how this came out and I hope you are too!

Risks

Masterlist

Weekend nights in Heights Alliance were arguably the best.

Mr. Aizawa was more flexible about curfew on Friday and Saturday nights, so the class took those nights as opportunities to have slumber parties and late night get-togethers.

This was one such night. You, Ochaco, Tsu, Momo, Toru and Kyoka had gone to Mina’s dorm room with snacks and games in hand. Your hostess had offered up her wide selection of video games and her Netflix, Hulu, and Disney+ accounts. Toru had even come through with an impressive assortment of face masks, nail polish, and hair accessories. Needless to say, everyone was more than set for a night of careless fun.

“Wait, how do I craft something?” Mom held her controller out to Kyoka, brows pinched together.

“This button, here,” she took the controller, demonstrating by crafting an axe.

Upon realization that Momo had next to no knowledge of Minecraft, the party had abandoned its Super Smash Bros. tournament in favor of showing her the ropes. You’d vowed to help her make a simple house by the end of the night.

“Pro tip: make sure you collect all the same type of wood.” You suggested, eyes focused on the white stripes you were attempting to paint onto Tsuyu’s light green nails with some success.

“Yeah, unless it’s on purpose, like if you use a different wood for the roof or floor, it’s just gonna look like you hobbled it together in less than a minute.” Mina agreed, before promptly shoving a handful of popcorn into her mouth.

Ochaco gasped playfully, swiping the bowl away. “Don’t eat all of it!”

“I’ll eat whatever I damn well please!” Mina retorted, making a grab for the snack as Ochaco floated it over to Toru.

“Okay guys, I can’t take it anymore.” The invisible girl grabbed the bowl out of the air. “We’re all together, hanging out with zero stress for the first time in months! Does anyone have anything juicy to share? Someone’s gotta have something!”

Kyoka rolled her eyes. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I didn’t come to gossip.”

“This class is a pretty tight-knit group, ribbit. Nothing really happens that we don’t all know about.” Tsu pointed out.

“Okay then. Crushes.” Mina prompted.

“What about them?” Momo asked.

“Who’s got ‘em?”

There was a moment of silence. You noticed how a few pairs of eyes flicked to Ochaco, who had gonna very red and very quiet. You sighed, musing to yourself about the things you did for friendship.

“I, uh, I kinda like Iida?”

You hated how you phrased it like a question. You hated how you mitigated the confession with the word “kinda”. You hated that silly, totally inadequate word “like”. Your feelings for Iida went beyond a simple crush. You’d had them for him for months now, you were long past the “like” phase. You were head-over-heels in love.

Toru gasped dramatically. “Really? Iida?”

Ochaco smiled at you, gratitude evident in her eyes. “You two would make a sweet couple.”

“What do you like about him?” Mina asked excitedly. “When did you fall for him? Are you gonna confess?”

“Take it easy,” Kyoka chuckled lightly.

You also laughed, albeit uneasily. You were beginning to regret not keeping your mouth shut. “Okay, I’ll take those one at a time. He’s kind and attentive, and he’s very loyal. I think I realized that I liked him a few weeks after the sports fest, and absolutely not.”

“Why don’t you want to tell him?” Momo asked, pursing her lips. “I think he’d appreciate the honesty.”

“Be that as it may, I don’t wanna make things weird between us or potentially ruin our friendship.” You explained “I don’t wanna jeopardize what we have now by confessing.”

“Plus, Iida doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who’s want to date someone, ribbit.” Tsu put in, examining her newly painted nails. “He’s very serious. He’d probably see it as a distraction, these are really pretty, (Y/N), thank you.”

You smiled weakly at your frog-like friend as Toru threw a piece of popcorn at her head. “Tsu!”

“No, she’s right.” You sighed heavily, motioning for the popcorn bowl, intending to drown your sorrows and maybe yourself in it.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” Momo patted your back sympathetically as she passed the bowl down. “I can’t imagine how frustrating it is.”

You hummed in agreement as you shoveled the snack into your mouth. “Whatever. It sucks, bur I’ll get over it.”

“Like hell you will!” Mina snapped “Ochaco: our romantically challenged friend’s phone, if you please?”

Ochaco dutifully and bemusedly took your phone from Mina’s bedside table and handed it over to her.

“What are you doing?” You questioned, suddenly on high alert.

You were ignored. Mina instead took your hand, and placed your thumb over the home button on your phone, unlocking it.

“Seriously, what are you doing?” Kyoka asked.

“Texting Iida.”

It took you a few seconds to process her words and what they meant. Once you had, though, you made a sudden grab for the phone. “Oh no you’re not!”

“Chillax, I’m not gonna send him anything embarrassing.” Mina swatted your hand away as she scooted safely out of your reach. “I’m just gonna suggest that you two go out sometime and heavily imply that it’ll be a date.”

“Now hold on,” Momo cut in, setting down her controller. “We shouldn’t be interfering. This is between (Y/N) and Iida.”

“Yeah, if (Y/N) wants to ask him out, they’ll do it themselves, ribbit.” Tsu chimed in.

Mina sighed, slumping. “I know you’re both right, but I can’t just let them wallow! Iida really likes you, (Y/N)!”

“Oh yeah?” You raised both eyebrows.

“Yeah! He’s a lot softer with you then with anyone else!”

“He does tend to let you get away with things,” Kyoka admitted. “Remember the other day when you were sitting on your desk? The guy didn’t even bat an eye.”

“He also seems like he talks to you more than he does the rest of us!” Toru pointed out.

“Plus he worries about you more than the rest of us!” Ochaco added on.

“He looks more relaxed around you.” Tsuyu threw in.

“Sometimes when we have class representative meetings, he’ll offhandedly mention you.” Momo reported thoughtfully. “He’ll tell me about something you said or did that he found funny or endearing. It’s actually pretty adorable the way he talks about you. It’s like his whole face lights up.”

You were quiet for a very long moment. It was too good to be true. You liked playing it safe. You kept your cards close to your chest until you were absolutely sure you had the wining hand. And if you’d learnt anything in your hero education, it was that sometimes you needed to take a risk.

“Can I have my phone, please?”

Mina tossed it to you. Without another word, you navigated to your messages, and typed something out quickly. Before you could reconsider, you took a risk.

You hit send.

. . .

This isn’t actually all that bad.

When Kirishima and Kaminari had suggested a “boys’ night”, Tenya had been apprehensive at best. He was all for class bonding activities, but what was the point if it was only a fraction of their group?

“(L/N) and the girls are having a sleepover, so we may as well something ourselves.” Sero had pointed out.

Despite his skepticism, Tenya found himself thoroughly enjoying himself. After admitting he’d never seen a Marvel movie, Midoriya had immediately logged the common room TV into his Disney+ account and began the first ever 1-A Marvel movie marathon.

“Ugh, does this mean we have to watch Age of Ultron?” Ojiro groaned “That one sucks.”

“Yeah, but at some point I’m going to make Iida watch Wandavision.” Midoriya replied “Ultron is important to understanding it, sucky as it may be.”

“That’s not gonna be for a while if we’re watching every single Marvel movie, though.” Sato chuckled.

“Yeah, we’re definitely gonna need more than one night for this shit,” Kaminari chortled “Wandavision not withstanding.”

Tenya smiled, not quite following but listening all the same. He suddenly felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

(L/N): Random question. Want to go out and get dinner tomorrow, just the two of us?

It was indeed a random question. He had no qualms about spending time with (L/N) though. Even if it was just the two us them. Especially if it’s just the two of us. Tenya quickly shook the thought away though, feeling he’s cheeks flare.

Me: That would be great! Do you have a time and place in mind?

(L/N): Would 6 be ok? As for the place… would you be up for a surprise?

Tenya hesitated. Usually he’s say no. He liked everything to be perfectly planed to a T. But something about (L/N) made him want to be spontaneous. They made him want to take risks. So he decided to do precisely that. He threw caution into the wind as he sent his response.

Me: 6 is more than ok, and I’m always up for a surprise if it’s with you.

Tenya cringed immediately after hitting send. The instant regret was crushing and depressing. He wished he could be honest about his feelings, about (L/N) without overthinking every move he made.

Oh well. What’s done is done. He slipped his phone back into his pocket, praying you wouldn’t respond. However, his plea went ignored a minute later when he felt his phone vibrate yet again.

Biting back a groan, Tenya opened his texts, inwardly bracing himself.

(L/N): Awesome! I’ll meet you at 6 in the common room tomorrow, then. Can’t wait! ❤️

He gaped. That tiny red emoji wormed not his brain and burned itself behind his eyes until that was all he could see. He barely even registered the rest of the message.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, Iida?” Kaminari, never one to understand personal space, leaned over to glance at the class rep’s phone phone before he could angle it away. “You sly little- IIDA HAS A DATE!”

“No I- that’s not- Kaminari!” Tenya sputtered incoherently, arms flailing. “That was entirely inappropriate. You shouldn’t look at other people’s devices without their permission. It’s rude, demeaning, and an invasion of privacy!”

“Forget that, what’s this about a date?” Sero leaned in on Kaminari’s other side.

“Iida and (L/N) were texting,” Kaminari announced “They asked him out to dinner, he said yes, and they send a heart emoji.”

“What color?” Aoyama demanded, squinting.

“Red.”

“Oh my,” Aoyama leaned back in his seat, a coy smirk playing across his lips.

Sero chuckled, leaning across Kaminari’s lap to pat Tenya on the arm. “You lucky bastard.”

The blue haired boy brushed his hand away, bristling. “Not that my personal activities are any of your concern, but it’s not a date. We’re just going to get something to eat.”

“I’m not an expert or anything, but I don’t think many people go out one-on-one for dinner if it’s platonic.” Midoriya pointed out.

“Yeah, plus, that emoji says a lot.” Kirishima added “(L/N) clearly means this to be a date. If you don’t feel the same way about them, you need to tell them.”

“You don’t want to go on a date with (L/N)?” Todoroki asked, raising an eyebrow “I would’ve thought you’d be happy for an opportunity like that.”

“See! Even Todoroki can see you’ve got it bad for them!” Sato exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at the confused heterochromic boy.

Tenya ignored his overly-excited classmates. He flipped back through his conversation with (L/N), staring at every text until he’d inadvertently memorized them all.

Me: Is this a date?

. . .

“So much for subtly, I guess.” Kyoka remarked.

“Subtly gets you nowhere with Iida!” Ochaco insisted “You have to be upfront with him!”

��But I sent him a heart,” You groaned for the fourth time.

“Well, there’s no sense in bemoaning it now.” Momo reasoned.

“It was a calculated risk.” Toru admitted, an undercut of worry in her voice.

“A risk, huh?” You chuckled humorlessly “I seem to be taking a lot of those tonight.”

Ding!

Seven pairs of eyes darted to your overturned phone at the same moment. No one moved an inch.

“Well,” Tsu nudged you “are you going to look at it?”

You gulped, shakily taking the device. The girl’s gathered around you. As you opened your text messages.

Iida: Is this a date?

“No backing down now!” Ochaco squealed, gripping your shoulders tightly and shaking you.

“Go, go, go, go, go!” Mina bounced on her knees like it was a sporting event.

You took a deep breath, then texted back.

. . .

(L/N): That was the idea, lol. It doesn’t have to be if you don’t want it to be, tho

Tenya pursed his lips, showing the response to Midoriya.

“C’mon, Iida.” His friend chuckled lightly “Just tell them the truth.”

The truth. He did want it to be a date, but a simple “I want to go on a date with you” didn’t seem sufficient. It wouldn’t do justice to how he really felt.

Tenya had already taken a risk tonight, so what was one more? But knowing what he now knew about your feelings, it didn’t seem quite so scary anymore.

Me: I’d love nothing more than to go on a date with you, (L/N). Truth be told, I’ve wanted to for a while now, I just haven’t had the courage to ask you myself. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow. ❤️

#mha #bnha #iida #tenya #tenya iida #iida x reader #tenya x reader #tenya iida x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader

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bimswritings · 3 years

Text

Savage Opress x Reader

Request: Open

Warnings:Yandere Themes, canon-typical violence

Summary: On their conquest of the universe, Savage finds himself drawn to one of the newest captives in their spread of power.

A/n: The next chapter of ‘This is our way’ is up on my Ao3. It will be posted here after I finish and upload my current Armorer x reader fic.

__________________________________________________

Your planet wasn’t anything special. Located out in the outer rim, it was little more than a moon compared to its neighbors. Its land was barren and cold, an almost ever present frost covering the ground.

Yet you and your people had made it your home, learning how to grow a small amount of crops and mine the rare metals underneath. A job you had yourself, providing enough money for you and your younger brother to live on until he was old enough to work as well. What was produced was enough to give your people an economy, yet remain under the radar and out of the war that ravaged the rest of the planet. The Republic and Separatist had limited interactions this far out at best, and you were able to enjoy a peaceful life, if not a bit exhausting.

Unfortunately, it was this isolation that had been your saving grace for so long that also proved your downfall.

Their ships arrived in numbers you had never seen before, landing on the grey dirt and unloading copious amounts of armored men and women. Your village didn’t even have time to put up a fight, overpower and subdued before you could even think of a weapon to protect yourself.

Soon you were corralled into the town center, separated into groups seemingly at random. Families were torn apart, mother from child and husband from wife. The entire time your brother clung to your leg, hiding as the armed guards shoved you along through the crowds. You tried to stay out of sight the best you could in an attempt to draw the least amount of attention to yourself, hoping, praying, that you could go unnoticed enough to keep him with you.

Above it all, standing out against the dull sky with their vibrant colors, were two Zabraks. Creatures you had only ever heard about in stories from the occasional trader that passed through, and had been just that, stories, until now. Their horns alone were enough to send shivers down your spine, each one protruding from the crown of theirs heads like a twisted version of a crown. Unlike a crown, you knew they weren’t for decoration. The damage they could undoubtedly do if provoked only solidified their threatening presence.

Now they stood above you all, tattoos illuminated in the light of the setting sun. The shorter red one stood in front, chin raised and chest puffed with pride as he looked over your people with another armored man, this one clearly human. He seemed to not even notice the cold, bare chest on full display for anyone to see the unique markings that marred his skin. Just beyond him stood the second Zabrak. His yellow markings stood out even more than his companions, only emphasized by his large size. None of the others even came close to his height, let alone the bulk you could tell he possessed under his armor. Even from here you could tell he could wrap a single hand around your neck and snap it easily with his strong fingers.

His gaze was just as impassionate, if not more so, seeming more bored than anything as he watched the proceedings.

“Come on! Move it!” One of the guards yelled, catching your shoulder as he pushed you forward, reminding you bitterly of Telik being led to slaughter. You kept Jay close, keeping your head down as you passed more guards, pace increasing. Just a few more yards and you would be with the others. Whatever the future had in store for you, at least you would still have each other.

“Hey, you!” A voice called, clearly directed your way, though you pretended not to hear. A cold sweat broke out across your skin as footsteps closed in, hand reaching out and stopping you in your tracks.

“Children don’t go in this area.” He growled, prying Jay from where he hid, ignoring his cries and your screams as he was pulled away. A guard stepped forward to hold you back, another coming to his aide as you fought to get to your brother, who was making it just as difficult for his own captor to drag him away. Even with the muscle gained from the mines you struggled against them, putting up your own desperate fight.

“Stop moving you little- fuck!” He yelped, pulling his arm away and out of Jay’s mouth, which had latched on to the only unarmored part of the hand holding him.

Immediately he turned and was running back towards you, tears streaming down his face and blue eyes wide with fear. In his panic to get back, his childish coordination caught up to him and his feet caught on one another, throwing him to the ground as he was left to scramble. All the while the guard he had bitten approached.

“You little brat!” He snarled. His hand moved to his hip, producing a whip from its depths. The long weapon crackled to life, sparking with energy as it extended to full length.

Your own stomach dropped in fear as you watched.

Jay, the one light in your life, the only person you had left, was in danger. You were his older sister. You were supposed to protect him, guide him into adulthood in place of your parents. Be there to kiss away every injury, wipe away the tears after every nightmare.

A new burst of energy flooded your system, giving you the strength needed to push past the guards, leaving them stumbling as you flew towards Jay.

The man brought his arm down, whip swinging in a wide arc aimed at the defenseless boy on the ground.

It didn’t even have the chance to hit him. You slid the last few feet on the rough terrain, body covering his at the last second and jolting as the electric weapon met your clothed back, ripping through the material like a stone through water. A pained scream tore itself from your lips. Not even when you had gotten a burn from a small explosion in the mines had it hurt this much. In fact, you would take a dozen burns before this. This was just pure agony, the pain not even limited to a single area as the electricity coursed through every part of your body, invading every nerve.

The man was far from done though, and he repeated the action again and again, turning your skin into a bloody mess as Jay continued to cry underneath you, struggling in your protective grip. Still you held tightly, biting your lip to muffle your cries with every lash.

No one lifts a finger to help, not even looking in your direction in fear of the same treatment as they continue to shuffle along. You don’t even have it in your heart to blame them, knowing your reaction would be much the same if the situation was reversed.

Unbeknownst to you, your little altercation has caught the eye of the golden Zabrak, a small twinge in his heart at the deja-vu feeling he gets from the scene. From your age, he can only assume that the boy is your brother. You look too young for him to be your son.

He has flashbacks to his own brother, giving himself to the cursed Nightsisters in exchange for his life, only to be forced to kill him in a cruel show of power.

Before he realizes it, his hand has fallen to his lightsaber, already taking a step to where you are. He only gets a step before Maul calls to him, pulling him away to the ships and leaving him to look back over his shoulder at you crumpled form.

“Come. We must set up camp. The prisoners will be dealt with later.” Maul chuckles. “Those that survive anyways.”

And so he follows, leaving your fate to the Mandalorian who has yet to relent in his cruelty. But out of sight doesn’t mean out of mind, and the memory of your form curled on the ground, taking every lash with little more than a jolt and muffled cry, sticks in the front of his mind and prevents him from having a single moment of rest.

It's hours before he’s able to slip away. Between his brother and Death Watch, it’s nearly impossible for him to make his way to where the captives are being held. They’re all gathered in one of the far corners of the camp, held in place by the ropes around the wrist and looking miserable as they huddle for warmth against the lightly falling snow. He feels no guilt for what their eventual fate will be. They’re nothing to him, mere insects in his brothers plans. Animals to the slaughter. All for the greater good.

The fear he can feel radiating off them feeds a twisted sense of pride within him. The Sith side of him. They know who he is. They know he could easily kill them with no consequence should he choose.

He’s not here for them though.

A dozen yards away, your body is still laying in the same spot as before, more lifeless than when he last saw you. This time there’s no Mandalorian enforcer above you. Instead, he’s replaced with the small boy from earlier. What remains of your shirt is peeled back from the skin and even Savage, who’s used to many grisly sights, grimaces at your wound. The skin that isn’t lacerated is red and swollen, and he now notices that the young boy has shed his own shirt, using ripped strips to clean the blood away and form a crude version of bandages. He’s busy fumbling over himself, fingers clumsy and stiff from the cold as he does his best to care for the wound with no medical supplies.

So focused on your wounds, he doesn’t even hear the large Zabrak approaching, not until it’s far too late. To his credit, and Savage’s amusement, the boy refuses to leave you, placing his body in front of yours. His bare chest is rapidly moving up and down with fear, thin body on full display. Not an ounce of muscle on him, Savage muses, moving closer to your body. If he doesn’t get you proper medical attention soon the wounds will undoubtedly become infected and kill you, if the blood loss hasn’t already damned your fate.

When he goes to pick up your limp body however, he’s stopped by your brother. Well, stopped is being rather generous. It’s more like he’s latched himself onto Savage’s waist, small fist beating at him with the strength one would expect of a child. He might not have even known he was hitting him if he wasn’t watching it happen.

It’s times like this that he’s most grateful for his cursed strength, easily detaching the boy from him and holding him by the back of his neck, tucking him under one arm as the other reaches for you. It's almost concerning how cold your body is against his own skin, and he’s more careful as he lifts you over his shoulder. His brother would surely find it laughable if he saw how gentle he was being with you.

Without hesitance, he turns back to the main camp, ignoring the looks the others cast his way as he carries your unconscious and broken body over his shoulder, your brother still fighting under his other.

Let them gossip. There’s none that will stand against him.

____________________________________

The first thing you’re aware of is warmth. Surrounding and enveloping your form, begging you to stay as it threatens to drag you back into the land of dreams. That in itself is enough to alarm you. The heating was always turned off at night to save energy, replaced in favor of thick blankets made from the local TekTek wool.

That’s your second red flag. TekTek wool is warm, yet coarse and scratchy. The fabric currently piled on top of and under you is significantly softer, having a slight musk to it.

Finally managing to drag your eyes open, the sight that greets you is not one you were expecting.

Dark fabric makes up the majority of the tent you find yourself in. It’s clearly worn, yet does a surprising job of keeping the wind outside from entering, slight ripples waving across the fabric yet never entering. A fire sits in the very center, smoke curling up and through a hole in the ceiling. It’s glow provides the only source of light in the space, illuminating the few objects scattered around, including the cot you currently find yourself residing on. Buried under layers of blankets, your hands travel to the bandages wrapped around your chest, the only thing covering your upper body and providing little warmth in comparison to the blankets you were previously under.

How did you get here? Where was Jay? The last thing you remember was the invaders arriving, then nothing. So the question was, how had you gotten from there to here? Alone in an unfamiliar tent.

Your questions are soon answered, a shuffling from the front of the tent drawing your attention. From between the flaps emerges a large figure, his horns nearly catching the fabric as he enters.

You both freeze, eyes locking on one another, equally surprised. There’s a moment of pause, each of you trying to determine your next move. It’s only broken when he takes a step forward, cautiously, but still sending you into a panic. Ignoring the nearly debilitating pain coming from your back, you scramble to the edge of the cot, pressing your back against the fabric and you can feel it straining against your weight. Trying your best to look intimidating, you send a glare his way.

“Where’s my brother?”

He says nothing for a moment, and you almost repeat yourself, cut off as he begins approaching. He’s there before you know it, long legs easily eating the space as his arms reach for you, forcably turning you around despite your resistance. He lets out a grumble as he inspects your back, scoffing about how you’ve ‘reopened them’.

The next thing you know, his hands are worming their way under the wrappings, loosening them as he goes to remove them.

The panic you had felt before was nothing compared to now, knowing where this scenario was going all to well. The stories of what you had heard from other village girls filling your mind, darkening your thoughts as you could only imagine what this monster was about to do to you.

“No! Stop!” You sobbed, knowing full well that there was nothing you could actually do against his strength. The bandages become looser, only held up by your hand as you wildly swing out with the other. All the while you try to distance yourself from him.

“Please!”

To your surprise, he pauses. His first sign of even showing he heard you since entering. His gaze never leaves you, and you can see the debate going on within his eyes. About what, your guess was as good as any. All that you cared was that he had stopped for the moment, allowing you to cover yourself with one of the many blankets in an attempt to preserve any decency you had left.

Growling, her turns and storms out the way he came, a wisp of freezing wind invading the tent as you're given a glance at the dark night sky outside before you’re once again left on your own. Not for long though, and you think he’s returned once again when the flaps open, only to reveal a young woman in similar armor that you had seen earlier. Not the person you trusted the most right now, but you still preferred her over the large Zabrak from earlier.

She approaches slowly, setting a medkit down on the bed as she smiles your way. “I’m here to change your bandages.” She extends a hand your way, which you only look at, neglecting to come out of your little corner.

“Please. You’ve opened your wounds again. If you don’t come out now, I’ll just wait for you to pass out and change them then.” she sounds a bit exhausted, and it takes a few more minutes of coaxing before you allow her access to your back, keeping your back towards her as she slowly unwraps the bindings. She deposits them into the fire, leaving you to watch them burn to ash as she retrieves a small container from the medkit.

Inside is a blue gel, surprisingly warm as it touches your skin and leaves a pleasant numbness. You can almost feel her gaze burning into your skin as she applies the gel, eyes skittering across old scars, fingers even tracing them when visible underneath the new wounds. Seeming to sense your unease, she rushes through the rest, quickly wrapping new bindings around your torso, apologizing with every small grunt of pain you let out.

Far too quick for your liking she’s done, packing up her things as she prepares to head out. If she’s leaving, then that means there’s more of a chance that he’ll come back. In fact, you have no doubt that she’ll go and tell him once she’s out of here.

Snapping the case closed, she turns back to you and hesitates for a moment.

“I don’t know what you did to gain Savage’s attention, but believe me,” her green eyes lock onto yours, holding a sense of severity that chills you to the bone.

“, he’s your best chance of surviving.”

With that you’re alone once again, left to your own thoughts and the crackling of the fire, which has gone down a significant amount since you first woke.

What did she mean by that? Gained his attention? And he was one of the ones who lead the attack on your home. Why would he be your saving grace? If anything, he would be the most likely to kill you.

Once again the flap opens, and you almost want to groan about the number of people going in and out, letting the heat out of the tent.

It’s the Zabarak. Savage, you remember the woman from before calling him. This time he has some additions. A cloak draped over one arm and a plate in hand. He moves slower than before, almost cautiously approaching you as he sets the items on the far end of the bed.

“Eat.” His voice is a deep baritone, rich yet monotone as he speaks, nodding towards the plate before moving towards the fire. Your eyes never leave his form as he tosses more wood onto the flame, moving them about without a fear of burning himself. Despite the fear still gripping your nerves, the food is tempting and only now do you realize how empty your stomach is, almost turning in on itself as it lets out a low rumble.

You grab the plate cautiously, picking at its contents as the man continues to poke at the fire. When you do finish, you find yourself wishing you had taken more time with it, no longer having the small distraction from your current situation. Despite the desire to throw on the warm looking cloak, you don’t. While he had directed you to eat, he had said nothing about the cloak. The last thing you wanted to do was make him angry, especially after he had shown how easily he could manhandle you earlier.

“You’re going to travel with me from now on.” He spoke, his back still towards you, yet it still carried loudly through the air, leaving no room for you to mistake his words. “If you have any objections, your fate will be the same as the rest of your village.”

You have no idea why he’s saying this, not when he could just direct you without any information. There’s only one thing on your mind though, present from the very beginning and still burning on your tongue.

“Where’s my brother.” You ask once again, praying to the maker you’ll get an answer this time. “What about him?”

His shoulders tense for a moment. The first emotion he’s shown besides anger.

“He will be allowed to come along given that he trains as a Mandalorian warrior. This is the best option for him.”

You let out a sigh of relief. While being forced to train with the ones who captured him wasn’t an ideal situation, you could only be thankful that he wasn’t fated for something more unfortunate. The only thing that worried you was his size. He was never much of a fighter, too kind to want to cause others pain. You would need to be there for him.

“I...I can still see him.”

“Yes.”

You bit your lip, trying to decide if you should ask another question. He already seemed to be wearing thin with his patience, but you had to know. You would never get a moment's rest until you knew.

“Why am I here.”

He doesn’t answer right away, throwing a few more logs onto the fire before turning to face you. His face was nothing but shadows, eyes standing out in startling contrast. His footsteps were slow and heavy as he made his way over to your form, unable to back away any further as you already find yourself in a corner. He grabs the cloak as he passes, the article almost ridiculously small in his hands.

As soon as he’s close enough, he lifts his arms and you flinch, expecting him to strike you out of annoyance and anger. It never comes though. The only feeling was that of heavy fabric settling on your shoulders, only there a moment before it’s clasped and you feel yourself being pulled forward.

Savage’s hands are wound tightly into the fabric, forcing your face to nearly touch his. This close you can see every detail of the markings splashed across his skin, the black only making his amber eyes burn even brighter, nearly suffocating with the intensity with which they stare. Almost like molten gold themselves.

His breath fans across your skin, lips nearly brushing yours as his forehead grazes your own, making you whimper as his horns roughly scrap the skin.

“You’re mine now. You will never leave my side, there at my every beck and call no matter what I may need. If you even think about trying to leave or betray me,” he pushed further, forcing you to lean back onto the bed. His weight pushed down enough to keep you in place without being crushing, one hand releasing the fabric of the collar to travel up your face. It brushes the hair away, catching the tear you hadn’t even realized had escaped.

“I’ll force you to watch as I kill your brother in the most painful way imaginable.”

Your breath catches in your throat as he leans forward, baritone voice speaking lowly in your ear as his lips tickle the skin.

“You’ll wish, beg, that I had killed you as well instead of what will happen to you after.”

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars x reader #savage opress x reader #savage opress #x reader #tcw #fanfiction #darth maul #tcw x reader #star wars the clone wars

185 notes · View notes

tellmealovestory · 3 years

Text

Planning

Summary: Planning for the wedding has begun with choosing a color palette.

Notes: Also posted on my ao3. Part of Something More

I know that it’s been awhile since I’ve last posted and even longer since I’ve updated this and for that I am so sorry. The past few months have been rough and I’ve been struggling to write anything, but I’m trying which is what counts I guess.

I haven’t forgotten about Something New - there’s for sure one more part, possibly two, but for now here’s something and again I am so sorry for how long it’s been taking me to get these posted.

Warnings: Surprisingly none - unless you count idiots in love falling more in love.

"Black and yellow?"

"No."

"Purple, orange and black?"

"No."

"Red, white and blue?"

"Bucky, no!" Laughing at his suggestions you playfully shoved his shoulder as he shot you a grin full of mischief. “Besides, I think those are more Steve's colors."

“You opposed to pastels?" His grin only widened when you wrinkled your nose in distaste. "Red and pink?"

“Red and pink isn't the worst idea you've had," you mused, a thought working its way into your mind as you eyed the mess that surrounded you.

“Sweetheart-,” he started, but you silenced him with a look.

Reaching for a bridal magazine, one of many that laid scattered across the floor of the living room where you were both currently seated you flipped through it while Bucky continued to rattle off suggestions. Frowning, you pushed it aside before grabbing another one. Finding what you were looking for you showed him a spread with dark reds and pinks and a gold that had the barest hint of a shimmer. It was for a Valentine’s Day wedding and while you weren’t getting married on that date you still thought it was pretty.

One look at his face told he wasn’t impressed.

"Neons would be better,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders, his fingers flicking a brightly colored post it note that was sticking out from the magazine.

"Please tell me you're joking."

"Maybe."

“James!”

And this time he was the first to laugh, the richness of his voice filling up the room and drowning out the sitcom dialogue that drifted from the television a few feet in front of you.

He made it difficult at times like these to get and stay annoyed at him, but nevertheless you made an attempt with a glare shot in his direction. It was useless though when he was looking at you like that. All bright blue eyes shining with a love that still managed to steal your breath anytime he glanced at you. Laugh lines around his mouth and before you had a chance to warn him that he was seconds away from not having any say in your wedding colors he was tilting his body towards yours, lips landing on the side of your head. An innocent kiss, but it sent your heart spiraling.

Almost as much as when he murmured against your skin with breath that was warm and smelled of the chocolate ice cream you’d been sharing, “Alright, show me what you were thinking.”

Waking up your sleeping laptop that rested on the coffee table you expertly navigated the rabbit hole of Pinterest. Scrolling past boards you had created for flowers and centerpiece ideas, dresses and cakes you found the one titled colors.

A sea of palettes stared back at you; turquoises, magentas, oranges and yellows. Mints and whites. Pastel purples and soft pinks, creams and pale blues that screamed romantic. Greens and blushes. Purple and grays.

And finally, towards the bottom of the board a mix of navy blues, grays and burgundy. Burnt oranges and peaches. Sunflower yellows and dusty blues.

A collection of colors that reminded you of him.

“Something like this I thought.” Chewing on your lower lip you glanced from Bucky to the screen and back again. Anticipation thrummed through your veins as you waited for him to say something.

“It’s a lot of blues.”

“You look good in blue.”

“All the burgundy?”

“You also look really good in burgundy.”

“You really picking colors based on how I look in them?”

“No,” you scoffed with a quick roll of your eyes that he saw right through. “Okay, fine, but it’s not the only reason.”

“You gonna share those other reasons?” He asked, leaning forward to take a closer look.

"Um... I... like those colors?" Even to your own ears the words rang false. "And they're a better choice than the random ones you were shouting out." There another reason added to your list.

"Y/N," Bucky said, amusement dripped from his voice and he bit back a smile as he pushed the laptop towards the middle of the coffee table.

For a moment the only sound in the apartment was that of a commercial advertising pizza.

Turning to you he cradled your face in his hands. "You know no ones gonna be looking at me," he said softly, the pad of his thumb brushed across your cheekbone. "They're all gonna be looking at you and how beautiful you are."

"I haven't found something to wear yet."

"Doesn't matter, sweetheart."

Biting your lip your eyes danced between his and you couldn't help asking, "What if I get a really poofy dress and I end up looking like a cupcake again?"

It was a struggle for Bucky not to laugh at the mention of a cupcake. A million memories ago, but he could still remember that night. Your fathers wedding to his new, younger bride, the hideous pink dress she had made you to wear, the endless teasing you had endured from him, the new nickname he had bestowed upon you before you banned him from ever calling you that again. In his mind it didn't matter if when your wedding came you wore a dress that made you look like a cupcake, drenched in pink that looked as if it came from a jumbo sized bottle of pepto-bismol you'd still be beautiful in his eyes.

Dipping his head down he brushed his lips against yours in a kiss sweeter than any cupcake he had ever tasted.

"Doesn't matter," he whispered again, his mouth moving over yours slowly. "You’re still gonna be the most beautiful person in the room, cupcake."

It was hard to kiss him back when your lips were curling up into a smile, a laugh bubbling to the surface followed by a rush of memories at the mention of cupcake. He hadn’t called you that in years and though you still hated it you didn’t have it in you right now to tell him to shove it.

“Is that your way of telling me you hate my choices?” You asked, breathless from the feeling of his lips against yours. “No,” he laughed, stealing another kiss. “It’s my way of saying you should really give my suggestions another chance.”

“Buc-,”

“I’m kidding!”

Another kiss, this one to your forehead as the commercial ended and the sitcom returned. Turning your attentions back to the screen at the same time you rested your head on his shoulder, eyes scanning through the options again, his for the second time and yours for what felt like the hundredth since first compiling the list.

“I really do like these colors. Especially this one,” you said, bringing up a palette with dusty and navy blues, marigold and a hint of dark green.

No matter how many options you had looked at you kept going back to it. It was pretty and it was an added bonus that he looked in most of those colors.

“That the one you want?”

Biting your lip you switched back to your second choice. Navy blue, maroon and gray. More colors he looked good in, more colors that you had been drawn to, but in your heart you knew which one you wanted.

“Yeah, but what do you think?”

“I like it,” he said.

“You agreed to that awfully quick.” Your tone was light and you couldn’t help asking, “Are you only saying that cause you’re tired of looking?”

“No. ‘M saying it cause you like it.” His eyes darted down to the shiny engagement ring that sat pretty on your ring finger. Lifting his gaze up he continued, “And cause I don’t care about the colors.”

No sooner did the words leave his mouth and he was left scrambling to explain when he saw your widened eyes.

“Sweetheart.” His hand slid along your cheek. “Whatever colors you choose are gonna be fine, but I’m not gonna be paying attention to them. Our friends and family might, but the only thing I’m gonna be paying attention to is you and how I’m finally marrying the woman of my dreams.”

His words sunk in amid the closing credits of a sitcom and as tears welled in your eyes and your laptop drifted off to sleep the only words you could manage were a breathless, “Oh, Bucky.”

You had never thought planning your wedding would be so emotional.

You kissed him softly, savoring the way his lips moved against yours in a practiced ease that still made your stomach fill with butterflies. Just as he was about to deepen the kiss you pulled back with a start and a flurry of questions.

“Wait, if you don’t care about this why did we spend two hours looking and why did you offer such awful suggestions?”

Bucky swallowed, his cheeks flushing deep pink. “You asked me to,” he said simply, before adding on as his cheeks turned even darker, “Maybe I wanted to make you laugh a bit.”

Mission accomplished.

Parting your lips to speak he beat you to it saying, “I also wanted to spend time with you and I know how much planning this means to you.”

It felt as if your heart was going to burst right out of your chest. You didn’t know anyone who would willingly want to spend that much time going over colors, debating between two shades that were nearly identical when they could have been doing something they enjoyed.

Searching for the words to tell him all of that you came up empty, settling with a simple, but true, "I love you, Bucky."

Which you followed up with another sweet kiss, once again marveling at how lucky you were to be marrying him.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader #my writing

219 notes · View notes

pleathewrites · 3 years

Text

boys, boys, boys

chapter 2: revelations

Summary: Does Iwaizumi have a thing for setters or do setters have a thing for Iwaizumi?

“Maybe Iwa-kun does have a thing for grey hair,” Sugawara muses, the tip of his index finger circling the rim of his drink. He’s got that signature sly smirk across the very lips that locked with Hajime's a decade ago.

“Oh my God.”

Hajime is seriously considering begging Oikawa to jump-serve a volleyball to his head and knock him clean out just so they can all stop having this conversation - ‘Hell, Tooru’s strong as hell now. Might knock the entire memory of this night right out of my brain, for good.’

“Hey, I just made out with him - and possibly gave him his gay awakening. But I wasn’t the one who convinced him to change his career.”

“Oh my God.”

“Wait, what are you - ”

“Daichi, baby, seriously, you need to go see that doctor. I am actively concerned about you developing early-onset Alzheimer's," Sugawara says, tucking a strand of Sawamura's hair behind his ear, his impish smirk melting into a fond smile, "Does Shiratorizawa ring any bells?”

“Hey, I have my own life to worry about! I’m not gonna keep track of someone else’s love life - no offense, Iwaizumi-san.”

“Hey, non-taken. Please, never think about my love life.”

Much to Hajime’s horror, Daichi’s expression turns contemplative, “Wait, actually, though -”

“Fuck -”

“… Grey hair, Shiratorizawa...” Daichi snaps his fingers and points his index at Iwaizumi with a much-too-proud smile on his face, completely unaware of the man’s rising irritation. “Yes, right! Iwaizumi, didn’t you..?”

“Ugh, God, that one,” injects Oikawa.

Hajime feels the vein on his forehead throb at Oikawa’s tone, “Kawa... why are you so shitty.”

“Well, sorry, if I don’t like the edge-lord that busted my entire future!”

“Oikawa… You are literally at the Olympics… for the second time...”

“Yeah, with you on the opposing side,” Oikawa says with a closed throat, sliding out of the booth, and heading off to the direction of the entrance doors.

Hajime sighs.

Their loss to Shiratorizawa is soul-crushing - it always is.

‘Always’ - that’s the most crushing thing, Hajime despairs, ‘We always lose to that school.’ And Hajime feels the blow, of course, he's devastated, but it’s not personal, hell, it’s not even for his team - ‘God, I’m such a shitty Vice-Captain.’

No, the absolute heartbreak he feels is for Tooru.

Hajime loves his team, he believes every single member has outrageous talent, but he knows that all their abilities combined, including his own, wouldn’t even hold a candle to Oikawa’s blinding torch.

Shiratorizawa is a school for rising champions, Abo Johsai is a school for kids with talent.

Oikawa Tooru is on a completely different level, it's a fact - he outranks his own team. It keeps Hajime up at night because he knows that if Oikawa had a team that matched his talent and ability, he would never have to experience such consistent defeat.

In times like these, Hajime feels shameful and useless, ‘How long will I hold Oikawa back?’

Hajime knows Oikawa. He knows he’s the real reason Oikawa chose Abo Josai, that because Hajime wasn’t good enough to get into Shiratorizawa, Oikawa shackled himself to a team that weighs more than he can carry. It reminds Hajime of those free-body-diagrams from physics class that Oikawa had to explain to him ten times over; Oikawa is the upward force, striving for victory at the speed of light, Hajime is the opposing frictional force, and Abo Johsai is plain gravity times mass times sine (or was it cosine?). Hajime only managed to scrape a B- in that class, so the only answer he can give this problem is that Oikawa isn't going anywhere, any time soon.

A harsh slap to his back snaps Hajime out of his thoughts. He jumps with the force of it and doesn’t even have to turn his head to know who’s hand is laying firmly between his shoulder blades. He keeps his eyes downcast, but Oikawa - a true Captain - doesn’t force Hajime to look at him when he firmly whispers, “Next time, Iwa-chan. We’ll get ‘em.”

Their coach takes the team for ramen, gives them a speech about being proud and working hard, all while Oikawa is making faces at Hajime from across the table and, slowly, Hajime begins to let himself smile.

Halfway through dinner, Hajime feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. Thinking it’s his mother asking when he’ll be home, Hajime turns on the lockscreen and sees it’s an Instagram notification. He unlocks his phone and swipes down his Notifications - Hajime had to reset his phone notifications to conceal messages ever since becoming friends with Sugawara Koushi because the boy has zero filter and he doesn’t need his mom accidentally seeing messages with eggplant and squirting emojis, encouraging Hajime to make ‘his move’, whatever that means.

EITA (@notsemisemi) has requested to follow you.

Now, Hajime is confused. He doesn’t even remember the last time he posted a picture on Instagram - he only really made the account because Oikawa started crying about, “Iwa-chan, I want to tag you in this picture, people should know that you’re capable of smiling! Everyone else has an Instagram, let me make you one, you won’t even have to do anything!” - so he’s not really sure how or why a random person requested to follow him.

'Maybe it's a spam account?'

He looks closely at the username and tries to think if he knows anyone with that name. When nothing comes to mind, he clicks on the person’s account and is met with very aesthetically angsty selfies of a grey-haired boy with sharp eyebrows and deep collarbones. ‘

He’s kind of…’ Hajime tries to think of the right words. He wants to say ‘pretty’, but that doesn’t feel right - Sugawara is pretty, Oikawa is pretty. Pretty people are soft and round and peppy. This guy is…

‘Hot.’

And weirdly familiar.

He elbows Matsukawa, who’s sitting on his right, and turns his phone screen towards the boy, “Do you know this guy?”

“Hmph?” Matsukawa’s lazy eyes roam over his screen and he swallows his food before speaking, “Yeah, isn’t that the reserve setter? He came in as a sub when Oikawa hit Shiratorizawa’s main setter.”

Like a self-conscious self-absorbed bat, whenever Oikawa’s name is merely uttered, the boy in question will hear it, no matter what he's doing, “Eh? Oikawa hit who? I swear, it couldn't have been me, I’m a pacifist!” And he proceeds to put his hands up in surrender.

The lightbulb goes off in Hajime's head, “Oh! When Oikawa jump-served the ball at that small guy’s face? With the uneven bangs?” He makes a downward sloping motion across his forehead.

“Yeah, that one,” Matsukawa points to the phone screen, “Pretty sure that’s the guy who subbed for the rest of the set.”

“Yeah…” Hajime trails, before adding softly, “He was good… Wonder why their coach didn't give him more playtime.”

Oikawa’s quick-clapping hands bring Hajime out of his thoughts, “Oh! I know what we’re talking about now! First off, I didn’t hit Shorty, he wasn’t fast enough, that’s the consequence of the game! Also, why are we talking about this?”

“Iwaizumi is on the sub’s Instagram page.”

Oikawa squeaks, “Is this about your grey-hair-slash-old-man fetish?!”

Hajime groans and facepalms, “No, oh my God, stop telling people I have a fetish, Shittykawa! He followed me.”

“Block him!”

Hajime sighs, locks his phone, and puts it away, “Just forget it.”

“Hmph. That guy’s not even first string. What does he want with our ace?”

Hanamaki joins in, “I wonder why he’s not first string, though. I’m pretty sure he’s a third year, he’s been there every time we played against them. 'M pretty sure that Shorty is definitely a second year.”

Oikawa’s face turns from snooty to serious and he crosses his arms, “He’s good, but he lacks instinct. His technique is fine, but he doesn’t have what Shorty does. Maybe if he worked harder, but from the looks of it tonight, he doesn’t want it bad enough. He’s not on Shiratorizawa’s level - maybe he was once, but not anymore.”

'Not on Shiratorizawa’s level… Sounds like we might have something in common, after all.’

That night, before Hajime goes to sleep, he accepts EITA’s follow request and follows him back.

continue to read chapter

32 notes · View notes

becomewings · 3 years

Photo

The Most Beautiful Moment in Life <I’M FINE>

BTS Universe Story Highlights, pt. 3 / 4

« pt. 2 | » pt. 4

Introduction

The following sections for JiMin’s and HoSeok’s arcs are 4.5k and 4k, respectively. As with pt.2 of the series, I have included “tl;dr commentary” at the bottom of the post after a section of additional thoughts. This commentary summarizes the parenthetical asides I made throughout the summaries and may be of interest as standalone reading to those who have already played the game yet would like to review its connections to the BU texts and MVs.

Content warning: contains references to death, suicide, suicidal ideation, child abuse, domestic violence, blood, homicide, depression, trauma, PTSD

This guide contains major spoilers and includes references to other BU media

Do not repost, copy, or quote without permission

Stopped Time

SeokJin’s primary goal in JiMin’s story is to free him from the hospital psychiatric ward to which his parents have him committed before he gives up on life. Much like his sudden, unexplained absence in The Notes 1, JiMin is not even present in the first two episodes except for an introductory cutscene. In a hospital hallway on an unspecified date, he plays on the colored tiles and stops when he reaches “the line” by the exit door. (This line marks the end of the psychiatric ward and is first described in his 11 May Year 22 entry in The Notes 1.) Everything goes black except for JiMin and the door. A nurse taps him on the shoulder, bringing him back to reality, and hands him pills.

The playable story begins on 22 April Year 22 with SeokJin attending a meeting organized by the patrons of the Songho Foundation. Seo HyunJung, the city’s Deputy Mayor, suggested it to SeokJin’s father, Kim ChangJun, at the inauguration ceremony. (SeokJin attends the inauguration ceremony on 11 April in many loops; it plays out in episode 2 of JungKook’s arc.) SeokJin scans over the crowd, reflecting that while the pretext of the meeting is to discuss community development, in reality it is a social gathering to advance individual careers. These sessions make him uncomfortable, but this time he is attending of his own accord with the intention of meeting someone.

This someone is a woman who actually approaches him first, introducing herself as Sim SeonMi. SeokJin knows that she is JiMin’s mother. He has met her in previous loops but needs to pretend that this is their first time meeting. His goal is to bring up JiMin naturally and persuade her to discharge him from the hospital. Before he can broach the subject, the high school principal, Jo JinMyung, joins them. SeokJin uses his arrival as an opportunity to bring up school and guide the conversation toward JiMin by first asking if they know each other. “We’ve met a few times at gatherings. I was told her child used to be a student at our school,” answers Jo JinMyung. “Ah, really? I attended Jeil High too,” says SeokJin. Sim SeonMi looks taken aback, and he asks for her child’s name. She tries to avoid the question by saying that they probably won’t know each other due to their age gap, but when pressed again she relents. “His name is Park JiMin.” “I know JiMin! We were close. Is JiMin doing okay?” SeokJin responds brightly, wondering if she will provide an empty lie. Instead, she excuses herself with the claim that she needs to greet someone else.

SeokJin quickly wraps up with the principal and begins to casually approach her again. He stops when he overhears two women mention her name. “There’s no gathering she doesn’t attend these days. Looks like her husband’s star is on the rise, thanks to her efforts…” The player has the choice to listen quietly or butt in. If SeokJin stands by, they speculate that she was invited because her husband’s company is one of the patrons. If he interrupts, they caution him to stay away from her. In both routes, SeokJin learns that Sim SeonMi doesn’t have the best reputation and that rumors of her hospitalized son are spreading. Their blame on her helps explain what underlay her hysteric responses in previous loops.

Though it’s uncomfortable, SeokJin reapproaches her when she is alone. She greets him a little coldly. “You don’t have to be so formal to me. I’m JiMin’s friend,” he assures. “Is that so? How friendly you are.” Sim SeonMi smiles awkwardly and keeps looking elsewhere as though for an escape. “It would’ve been nice if JiMin’s father was here… He’ll join me another time, so you can say hello to him then.” “Yes. I’ll make sure to bring my father along then,” SeokJin replies, hoping to snag her attention. Her eyes change at the mention of his father. “Shall we do that, then? It’ll be even better with the Assemblyman.” SeokJin brings up JiMin again by either asking if he still attends Jeil High or how he’s doing. Her uneasy answers are “These days? Yes… Of course” or “...He’s fine,” respectively. SeokJin requests JiMin’s phone number, rendering her silent for a long moment. “That’s a bit difficult. I’m not sure I can give out JiMin’s contact information without his approval.” SeokJin attempts to convince her by stating that they were close friends in school yet lost contact when he studied abroad. But all he gets from her is, “Then I’ll ask JiMin, and make sure to contact you if he says it’s okay.” Sim SeonMi taps him on the shoulder and quickly walks away.

By 25 April, SeokJin still hasn’t heard from JiMin’s mother, so he decides to visit her and reveal that he knows JiMin was admitted to an inpatient psychiatric ward. Uncle JunHo, his father’s secretary, intercepts him before he leaves the house and asks where he’s going. SeokJin either answers that he is heading to school or meeting a friend to work on assignments. He declines a ride from JunHo in the first path but can’t conjure an excuse to not accept in the second. In both, JunHo comments that it’s not easy being the family of a public official and that he noticed SeokJin engaged in a long conversation with Sim SeonMi at the meeting. SeokJin explains that she is his friend’s mother, and JunHo advises him not to get too friendly with her because she doesn’t have a great reputation. In the second path, he also adds information about JiMin’s father that catches SeokJin’s attention because he has not heard anything about the man. Apparently Park JinWook is one of the foundation’s board members. ‘He’s pretty remarkable. He entered as a researcher and became a board member… The one thing that people like him want most is connections,” JunHo muses. He cautions SeokJin to “be wary of any advances [he] can see the intent of.”

The scene cuts to the exterior of an apartment building after SeokJin has either driven himself or been dropped off nearby by JunHo. He considers the public assessment of JiMin’s mother: she works hard to elevate her husband’s status but ignores her own son in favor of the family’s reputation. Sim SeonMi happens to step outside before SeokJin enters the building. She looks wary when he says, “I haven’t heard from you, so I decided to come see you myself.” In an effort to persuade her, SeokJin begins with either “I want to see JiMin” or “I came to see you because I know everything.” In the first path, she lies about not getting in touch with JiMin yet because he is studying abroad in the U.S. SeokJin is stunned by this egregious falsehood. “From what I’ve heard… JiMin’s locked up in a hospital. He’s at the Gyeong Il Hospital, isn’t he?” A similar reaction occurs in the second path from the point of SeokJin mentioning the hospital. Sim SeonMi hardens and objects to the phrase “locked up,” stating that JiMin is an inpatient because he is sick. “SeokJin, I appreciate that you’re worried about JiMin… But I’m his mother, and that means I know what’s best for him.” The paths converge as she tries to leave, claiming they have nothing left to discuss. Persuading her to release JiMin from the hospital seems impossible. “I’ll look into it on my own. I’m going to see JiMin, no matter how hard you try to stop me,” SeokJin warns. Sim SeonMi glares at him, voice low and cold. “‘SeokJin. If I can give you a word of advice… Adults have reasons for everything they do. You should forget about this.”

The beginning of episode 3 visits JiMin’s perspective on 27 April. He has relocated temporarily to the surgical ward due to an injured wrist. After treatment, he returns to his hospital room to find his mother arranging some items she brought. JiMin approaches nervously, wondering if she thinks he has caused a problem again. “It doesn’t look too bad, thankfully,” she remarks, glancing at his wrist. Her concern is unfamiliar yet welcome. “Do you know a Kim SeokJin? He said he attended Jeil High.” The mention of SeokJin surprises JiMin, but he tries to answer passively because of her angry tone. “Yes, but why are you suddenly ask—” “Did you contact him?” Sim SeonMi interrupts, halting her organizing to stare at him. “Why are you so immature? Do you ever think of anyone outside of here?” Injury throbbing, JiMin doesn’t know how to respond. “If you want to leave, tell me why you’re doing this. Tell me instead of embarrassing me by contacting some random person! Is that why you hurt your wrist? To rebel?” she demands. JiMin tries to explain this isn’t true, but she doesn’t listen. “I’m really tired, too. How many years has it been? How long do I have to suffer because of you?” Sim SeonMi leaves, the rant having done little to expend her anger. JiMin knows that her worries are pointed at herself, not at him; he is someone who makes life harder for her. He decides not to talk about anything else because he doesn’t want to make things even more difficult for her.

The story cuts to SeokJin loitering outside Gyeong Il Hospital, mulling over what action to take since JiMin is moving out of the surgical ward that day. (The date is unspecified in the game, but in The Notes 1, he is scheduled to return to the psychiatric ward on 16 May.) SeokJin knows that he will be the first suspect if JiMin disappears now and that he must act carefully since he was unable to persuade JiMin’s mother. As the day grows dark, he spots Sim SeonMi rushing into the hospital on her second visit. SeokJin hurries after her, worried that something happened to JiMin. The panicked voices of a medical team emerge from JiMin’s room. Doctors crowd around someone laying on the bed. “No, JiMin!” SeokJin hears Sim SeonMi scream followed by the sound of shattering glass.

The loop resets, and the game rejoins SeokJin on 10 May standing at a road and reflecting on the last failure. “If JiMin isn’t saved while he’s in the surgical ward, he makes his choice days after he returns to the closed ward. But it happened too quickly this time. What pushed him?” he wonders. He recalls Sim SeonMi’s final words before the loop ended. “No, JiMin! I’m sorry. I was wrong! You can see your friends; you can do anything you want… So please, open your eyes!” SeokJin realizes that he may have caused Sim SeonMi to act out of the ordinary, which in turn affected JiMin’s choice. It’s his fault, and he made JiMin suffer more. He thinks, “Even though I’ve experienced losing my friends before… No matter how many times it repeats… It never gets any easier.” SeokJin decides to abandon persuading JiMin’s mother to avoid provoking her and reverts his plan to sneaking JiMin out like in earlier loops. But first, he must focus on a more pressing issue—rescuing HoSeok after he collapses on the bridge that day.

After a cut, HoSeok awakens in SeokJin’s car and is shocked to see him. “Wow, is it really you? How long has it been?” “Lean on me for a bit longer. You didn’t hurt yourself when you fell?” SeokJin checks. HoSeok assures him that he’s all right and asks how SeokJin saw him. When SeokJin says he was just passing by, HoSeok remarks, “Wow! That’s so weird. Thanks for saving me.” It’s the first time SeokJin has heard something like this. He remembers JiMin in a previous loop telling him, “This is where I should be.” Does JiMin really want to leave the hospital? SeokJin believed that he did, but now he’s less confident. “HoSeok. If you had someone in front of you who wanted to die because living was too difficult… What would you do?” he asks. HoSeok answers without hesitation, “Well, I would help them.” “Even if that person doesn’t want my help?” says SeokJin. “ Isn’t helping them the right thing to do? Even if you don’t know why they want to die… They need to keep living for something to change,” HoSeok muses.

SeokJin drops HoSeok off at Two Star Burger before returning to the hospital alone, his friend’s words sticking with him. Even though JiMin isn’t guaranteed to be happy when he leaves the hospital, he needs to stay alive to have even the opportunity for happiness. Still uncertain how to proceed, SeokJin heads to the hospital lounge to organize his thoughts before visiting JiMin. Through an open door, he spots JiMin trudging down a hallway. SeokJin either calls out to him or watches him, but the latter is the result regardless because JiMin doesn’t hear him in the first path. JiMin stares at the door as people come and go and eventually returns to his room.

On 7 May, JiMin roams the hallways of the 5th floor surgical ward. He was moved there about ten days earlier after he ran into someone and fell. The surgical ward is not too different from the psychiatric one: the hallway is a little longer, and it has a lounge in the middle. But the freedom to move around in this space brings him joy that he doesn’t have in the psychiatric ward. He even wanders around at night when no one is around and dances in the lounge. Despite this newfound freedom, his body stops at the same point in the hallway—where the psychiatric ward ends four floors above him. After reaching his line again, JiMin returns to his room. He assumes a student occupied the bed before him because he finds a forgotten workbook in the nearby drawers. Remembering that he used this workbook in school, he flips through and reads the notes scribbled in the margins. “I want to go to a PC cafe, too…” he murmurs, spotting the note “wanna go to the PC cafe later?” JiMin finds a haphazardly folded paper tucked into the pages and unfolds it curiously. “Career… plan?”

The story cuts to 10 May with SeokJin, from a hidden vantage point, watching JiMin sit in the hospital lounge and read a book. It reminds him of their days in the classroom hideout. “He seems okay right now.” SeokJin receives a call from Uncle JunHo about the scheduling of a Songho Foundation seminar. During their conversation, a loudspeaker announcement summons JiMin to the 2nd floor physical therapy room. He drops the book and runs out of the lounge. Once finished with the call, SeokJin tries to find the book JiMin was reading. He doesn’t see it among those scattered around the lounge and thinks that JiMin must’ve had a reason to hide it. Hoping it will provide him a clue to understanding his friend, SeokJin hunts around either the window or trash can with no luck before turning to the vending machine. After scooting a bookcase out of the way, he is finally able to rescue the item. SeokJin deduces that the workbook doesn’t belong to JiMin because it’s Year 2 material and JiMin was admitted to the hospital in his first year. He finds the detached sheet with two different types of handwriting and determines which belongs to JiMin. The game provides a quick flashback shot of JiMin filling out the paper. “Aspiring Career Path: Will I be able to go to university too? Scholastic Activities: What should I learn in Year 2… Extracurricular Activities: Join the dance club HoSeok started.” SeokJin wonders what JiMin felt as he wrote in the answers. He considers how JiMin people-watched from the hallway and looked happy reading the workbook. “You want to leave, don’t you?” SeokJin thinks. “Let’s get out of here. So you can be the one to decide what kind of life you want to live.” He resolves to break JiMin free.

On 11 May, JiMin stops at the invisible line in the hallway again. He stares at the door before turning around and bumping into someone. He is shocked speechless when he realizes that it’s SeokJin. The next episode continues from this moment but switches to SeokJin’s perspective. He calms JiMin down before bringing him to the lounge, giving the excuse that he was in the hospital to visit someone else. JiMin’s cheeks are hollowed, his hands skinnier than normal. SeokJin wonders if he can inspire JiMin to act if he tells him that he’ll be able to do all of the things he wrote on the career plan once he leaves the hospital. He either asks, “JiMin, are you injured?” or “How long have you been in the hospital?” In both paths, JiMin refers to his wrist injury and the time he’s been in the surgical ward rather than the psychiatric one. He looks grim when he can’t give a proper answer to either “When do you get discharged?” or “Are you sick?” “I think I have to go now. It’s almost time for treatment, too…” JiMin stands to leave, avoiding his gaze. SeokJin rushes after him and blocks his path, knowing this might be their last chance to speak if they say goodbye already. “JiMin, I’m here because I know everything. You want to leave this place, don’t you? You’ve been here for two years.” JiMin steps back but doesn’t run away. “I just happened to hear… how your mother locked you in the psychiatric ward,” SeokJin explains. JiMin shakes his head with a frightened expression. “No. I’m here because I’m sick.” His eyes falter when SeokJin presses, “JiMin, I can help you. Let’s get out of here together.”

Short flashbacks play from JiMin’s perspective alongside his thoughts: “At first, I wanted to leave. I called my mom and cried until my voice went hoarse, asking her to take me home. That I didn’t want to stay here. But she didn’t listen. Because this is where I should be…” Aloud, JiMin speaks in a voice that sounds like he has given up on everything. “Even if I leave, I’ll eventually come back.” SeokJin shakes his head. “What’s important is how you feel. JiMin, you really want to stay here? That’s okay with you?” Depending on the players’ choice, he either continues, “Do you really not have anything you want to do?” or “‘You really want to stay here in the hospital?” In the first path, SeokJin tries to remind him of something he must want to do like studying or dancing. “I don’t… have anything like that,” JiMin lies. In the second path, JiMin says it’s better for him in the hospital because outside people treat him like a freak. SeokJin remembers the women whispering about Sim SeonMi and her hospitalized son at the Songho Foundation meeting. In both paths, JiMin is pale and shaky. SeokJin decides to ask one more time. “You don’t want to go outside and see your friends?” JiMin seems to perk up at the mention of “friends,” but he does not respond or lift his gaze. SeokJin’s parting words are, “Think about it, JiMin… I’ll come back to visit again.”

The next day (12 May), SeokJin reflects on his failure to persuade both JiMin and his mother. “What can I do to help JiMin get over his fear and gain courage?” he wonders. The career plan comes to mind again with JiMin’s notes of college, studying, and dancing—the things he wants to do outside of the hospital. This prompts SeokJin to remember a day in the classroom hideout when he filmed HoSeok dancing. On the sidelines, TaeHyung complimented HoSeok’s moves and asked if JiMin could dance like that. Gaze full of envy and longing, JiMin answered, “No. How could I do that?” “HoSeok! JiMin says he wants to try!” TaeHyung called. Flustered, JiMin tried to stop him, but HoSeok looked over. “Do you want to try?” JiMin insisted that he couldn’t, but TaeHyung pushed him forward and HoSeok gladly demonstrated the routine. JiMin hesitated at first to attempt it alone but began to move at their encouragement. In the present, SeokJin believes that he has found an answer in this memory. “TaeHyung, who pushed him forward… and HoSeok, who believed that he could do it. Maybe one of those two will help JiMin muster up the courage.”

SeokJin picks TaeHyung to help him persuade JiMin, considering that he was the first person to notice how JiMin was feeling when they watched HoSeok dance and helped JiMin take action when he hesitated. (We know from The Notes 1 that SeokJin’s later, successful choice ends up being HoSeok instead.) On 13 May, SeokJin visits TaeHyung’s convenience store to explain JiMin’s situation, and TaeHyung immediately agrees to help. Late that night and with little planned, they sneak into JiMin’s hospital room. Sensing their presence, JiMin turns on the light and is especially surprised to see TaeHyung. “We’re here to get you out of here, JiMin,” he says. “Did you think about it?” SeokJin asks. When JiMin hesitates, TaeHyung presses him to answer honestly. “Park JiMin, do you like being here? Staying here is awful! Let’s leave. You can think when we’re outside.” TaeHyung forces JiMin to his feet even as he hesitates and protests about the impending night rounds, although he does not push TaeHyung’s hand away. SeokJin knows this is hasty but decides to trust TaeHyung. Out in the hallway, he reflects that if even he spoke the same words, JiMin would not agree. SeokJin has encountered moments like this before where his friends solve problems that he cannot fix alone. “TaeHyung seems to be JiMin’s answer, just like YoonGi needed JungKook,” SeokJin thinks. (JungKook saving YoonGi is not a solution that played out in YoonGi’s story, but this is a familiar theme from Notes 1 and forward.)

The elevator arrives as they turn the corner, its doors opening to reveal Sim SeonMi. SeokJin warns, “Hide. It’s JiMin’s mom.” She walks past without noticing them. SeokJin quickly presses the elevator button, but it has already left. “JiMin, quick!” TaeHyung calls. “TaeHyung, I just…” “You can’t look back,” TaeHyung says firmly. He and SeokJin pull JiMin towards the stairwell, but JiMin stops walking. “What’s wrong?” asks TaeHyung. JiMin’s expression is on the verge of crying yet also angry. “I can’t,” he whispers. “Park JiMin, we don’t have time for this—” TaeHyung is interrupted by Sim SeonMi’s distant voice. “Where’d he go? The bathroom?” SeokJin tugs JiMin’s arm, but he looks afraid again. “SeokJin, I… I can’t do this. I don’t think I can.” SeokJin either soothes JiMin himself or has TaeHyung talk to him. In the first path, he takes JiMin’s trembling hand. “It’s safe for me here.” JiMin shakes his head. “No, JiMin. Something bad will happen if you stay here,” SeokJin cautions. “No, I have to stay here. That’s what’s right. I want to stay here,” JiMin insists. In the second path, SeokJin shoots TaeHyung a look, and TaeHyung in turn scans over JiMin. The tapping sound of shoes rings through the silent hallway. TaeHyung begins, “JiMin, if you stop here…” The paths rejoin when Sim SeonMi spots them and calls to JiMin, face livid as she approaches. “Oh… Mom.” The color drains from JiMin’s face. “Please… Please! Can’t you just stay put?” she demands sharply.

TaeHyung attempts to intervene, introducing himself as JiMin’s friend. Sim SeonMi does not look at him even when he explains that JiMin didn’t expect their visit and they were just taking him outside so as not to disturb the sleeping patients. SeokJin chimes in too, hoping their flimsy excuse will work, but Sim SeonMi orders JiMin back to his room. Looking defeated, JiMin trudges out of sight. Sim SeonMi finally turns her gaze on SeokJin, regarding him with the same expression as she utters the same words from the last loop. “I didn't know you were JiMin’s friend.” She warns them not to visit him again like this because he is very sick and it will interfere with his treatment. Before coldly turning to leave, she touches TaeHyung’s shoulder for a moment. (This same gesture was given to HoSeok in the hospital after JiMin’s seizure at the bus stop on 15 September Year 20 in Notes 1.) Her presence is like a wall separating them from JiMin. (SeokJin’s observation echoes HoSeok’s feeling that she was drawing an uncrossable line between them that September.) TaeHyung yells after her, “What’s wrong with him?! You can’t even spare the time to talk to us?!” SeokJin cautions him to stop. “Let me go! JiMin! Park JiMin!” TaeHyung’s voice rings loudly in the hallway, but no one answers. As they leave the hospital, he asks, “Do you think JiMin will be okay?” SeokJin cannot respond because he knows the truth: when JiMin returns to the psychiatric ward, he always makes the same awful choice.

The story cuts to JiMin sitting on his hospital bed and staring at his feet, unable to face his mother. He regrets following SeokJin and TaeHyung. “It was a lie, wasn’t it?” Sim SeonMi asks. “What those kids said earlier. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” JiMin apologizes, throat catching. “What were you going to do? What could you possibly do outside of this place?” she demands. JiMin remembers all the things he thought about alone in the lounge: going to school, making friends, and learning dance from HoSeok again. “I want to live a regular life. It’s nothing that special. Why is it that I’m not allowed to dream?” he thinks. “JiMin, let’s focus on getting better first. When you’re all better… I’ll let you do whatever you want once you’re discharged. But you know that now isn’t the time. Let’s do it when you’re back to normal,” Sim SeonMi advises with a power in her voice that he can’t fight. Questions pile up in his head: what is getting better, and what is normal? But he holds it in and nods, not wanting to make things any more difficult for her. “Okay, Mom. I will…” As he speaks, it dawns on him that he’ll never get to leave the hospital.

JiMin moves back to the psychiatric ward after SeokJin and TaeHyung’s visit. The place is still the same: a man mutters that he’s not crazy; a child stays glued to the window, waiting for their mom. “And then there’s me, unable to progress because I’m locked in the past. If nothing changes even as time flows, how is it any different than time standing still?” On 19 May, JiMin stands in the bathroom with the water running. He sees and hears the falling drops as rain and smells a sharp stickiness. Reflected in the water in the sink, he sees a vision of himself on “that day.” (This is referring to 6 April Year 11 and the events of the arboretum, first introduced in that dated entry in The Notes 1 and revealed in full on 12 August Year 22 of The Notes 2.) “...I hate it.” JiMin covers his eyes. “I want to forget everything. I want to rest.” The glass shatters, concluding his arc.

Someone Left Behind

HoSeok’s story opens on 11 May Year 22 with SeokJin providing some chronological context. So far, he has not made it to June once in the loops because HoSeok collapses from his narcolepsy and JiMin is still trapped in the hospital. SeokJin can encounter JiMin naturally if he admits HoSeok to the hospital after his collapse on 10 May, but HoSeok has an accident in the hospital stairwell and falls into despair over his leg injury. (10 May is the date HoSeok collapses and wakes up in the hospital in The Notes 1, and this is likely the moment referenced by his bridge scene in the I Need U MV.) Even if SeokJin prevents that accident or helps HoSeok avoid admittance to the hospital entirely, his narcolepsy grows worse over time after 10 May. SeokJin determines that he needs to control HoSeok’s narcolepsy in order to save him, and he heads to Two Star Burger where HoSeok works to begin earnestly investigating.

A cutscene plays out at the restaurant: HoSeok, wearing a manager’s tag, watches two friends eating at a table while someone places their order with him. His expression is distant and briefly sad until he catches himself and smiles brightly at the customer. When the door chimes, he greets the new visitor and realizes it’s SeokJin. This is apparently their first time meeting in this loop because HoSeok heard from the other guys that Seokjin returned. SeokJin asks how he’s doing, and HoSeok replies, “Me? Same as usual.” SeokJin knows that “same as usual” means HoSeok’s life has a set, monotonous routine: working his part-time job, going to dance practice, and occasionally visiting the children’s home. Sometimes, he also comes to the bridge over the river and watches the scenery. The scene transitions to this location later at night as SeokJin narrates this. He stands at a distance so HoSeok doesn’t see him. HoSeok’s out-of-character, melancholy expression worries SeokJin. He hasn’t observed any changes to his friend’s daily routine, and HoSeok hasn’t collapsed recently—so why does he keep collapsing on 10 May?

The narrative cuts to 3 May. (I double-checked the dates and can only assume that this is a new loop, although a reset is not specifically mentioned—or else the opening date was a typo.) SeokJin mulls the situation over alone for a while but ends up going to NamJoon out of frustration. NamJoon and HoSeok share similarities, and they’re both responsible for other people. Believing that NamJoon knows HoSeok best, SeokJin visits his container. NamJoon greets him warmly. JungKook is already there, killing time after school. SeokJin mentions that he saw HoSeok a few days earlier at Two Star Burger but couldn’t really talk to him because he was busy. NamJoon suggests inviting him to join them after work and bring some hamburgers too since JungKook is hungry. SeokJin either calls HoSeok himself or lets JungKook call. In the first path, HoSeok says he’ll come as soon as SeokJin mentions that a few of them are together. In the second path, while JungKook is on the phone, SeokJin asks NamJoon how HoSeok is and learns that he practices dance at the cultural center every day. SeokJin wonders if HoSeok is pushing himself too hard. The paths rejoin: before HoSeok arrives, SeokJin inquires about his narcolepsy too. NamJoon doesn’t know much except that he’s still taking medication for it and seems to be doing okay. It seems that no one dares to bring it up since HoSeok doesn’t speak about it openly. The conversation trails off while they wait, although it’s not awkward—it reminds SeokJin of old times together.

HoSeok arrives with a cheerful greeting, wafting in the smell of fresh hamburgers. “These hamburgers were hand-made by the employee of the month!” He rustles through the bags and produces a kid’s meal boxed toy, giving it to JungKook. “Here’s your Children’s Day gift!” JungKook pouts that he’s not a kid but seems pleased to receive a gift even though it’s a couple days early. HoSeok explains that he has to be at the children’s home on 5 May. NamJoon asks if they’re hosting an event that day. “It’s not really an event… I’m going to see the families,” says HoSeok. He plans to bring hamburgers and play with the kids rather than bring gifts. SeokJin is surprised to hear that almost twenty children, ranging from young kids to high schoolers, live at the home. “‘That’s more than I expected. It must be fun when everyone plays together.” HoSeok invites him to come along to take photos of everyone, and SeokJin agrees with a high-five. NamJoon declines because he’s too busy, and JungKook hesitates. HoSeok assures him not to feel pressured, causing SeokJin to reflect on how he has always been the “mood-maker” whose cheerful personality eases awkward situations and defuses disagreements. While lost in thought, he notices HoSeok taking out his medication. “How are you these days? Do you feel better?” NamJoon checks. “Hmm. I don’t have any symptoms, but I shouldn’t be skipping these.” A grim expression flashes across HoSeok’s face. SeokJin thinks, “It doesn’t mean he’s alright just because he smiles in front of people.” He guesses that HoSeok must feel scared of his condition, not knowing when he’ll collapse next. It’s not enough for SeokJin to prevent the accidents he can see or to stop HoSeok from getting injured—he must save him from the fear that isn’t visible. SeokJin resolves to find out what makes him collapse. Even if the condition isn’t curable, discovering the cause might help HoSeok get better.

On 5 May, SeokJin meets up with HoSeok at the children’s home, which is located near Yangji Stream. HoSeo looks happy and explains that visiting there is like coming home. They bring their respective gifts of hamburgers and snacks inside, and all the kids rush to HoSeok in excitement. One of the home’s staff greets them. HoSeok introduces her as Kim JungHee. He calls her “auntie” and regards her as someone who has been like a mother to him. As SeokJin helps her set the table with food, he thinks that the children’s home feels like an ordinary family home and HoSeok looks like the dependable older brother among all the kids. After taking all the requested pictures later, SeokJin joins HoSeok to watch the children play outside. “You’re on good terms with the kids,” he observes. “I’ve only been out of the children’s home about three months now, so I know them all,” HoSeok explains. (He moved into his rooftop room on 25 Feb Year 22 according to that date’s Note accompanying the Persona album.) SeokJin either comments, “Auntie seems like a great person. She treated me well and we’ve only just met,” or asks, “How old were you when you first came here?” In both paths, HoSeok speaks with visible adoration for Kim JungHee. In the first path, he mentions that although she’s scary when mad, she never gets angry without a reason. “Auntie JungHee is just… like a mom. She’s mom.” In the second path, HoSeok answers that he was seven when he moved into the children’s home. He describes how Auntie would sing him songs that his mother listened to instead of a lullaby when he had trouble falling asleep, and that was the first time he cried after coming to the home. SeokJin begins, “Then, HoSeok, when you were little…” But a boy’s cries interrupt him before he can ask if HoSeok experienced narcolepsy when he was younger. “What’s wrong, JiHun?” HoSeok asks in concern. The sobbing boy shows him a broken toy rocket. “My mom… gave this to me.” HoSeok is at a loss because it looks impossible to fix. “I’ll bring you a new one next time. Don’t cry, JiHun. Okay?” The boy keeps crying despite HoSeok’s attempts at consolation. Before SeokJin can think of another tactic, HoSeok speaks up, drying JiHun’s tears. “JiHun, do you want to go with me to see a real rocket?”

At HoSeok’s request, SeokJin drives them both to Yeongsan Bridge, one of the bridges that crosses Yangji Stream and that HoSeok frequents. SeokJin is perplexed about what could count as a “real rocket” as they head to HoSeok’s usual spot on the bridge, and JiHun appears suspicious but excited. “Look over there!” HoSeok points to the train departing Songju Station in the distance, picking up speed on the tracks. “Wow!” JiHun exclaims. “What do you think? That rocket looks cool, huh?” asks HoSeok. “Rocket? That’s a train,” says the boy. “Look closely! It’s a rocket.” HoSeok beams. JiHun asks HoSeok why he calls it a rocket. HoSeok explains that the front end of the train is pointy like a rocket and that it takes people somewhere far away. (He also refers to the trains as rockets in his 4 July Year 22 entry from The Notes 2.) SeokJin realizes that from his vantage point on the bridge, HoSeko has been watching the train that leaves Songju. “JiHun, you can wish on the rocket, too!” HoSeok describes how the rocket can carry dreams because the people who ride on it have dreams. JiHun wishes to become famous so his mom can find him. HoSeok falls silent for a moment before resuming his chatty demeanor. Together they wish on the rocket for JiHun to see his mom again. JiHun asks HoSeok what he wishes for so they can wish it on the next rocket. HoSeok whispers in his ear. “Wow, you too?!” JiHun exclaims. HoSeok shushes him, so SeokJin does not learn HoSeok’s answer.

After dropping JiHun off at the children’s home, SeokJin and HoSeok relax at a bar. HoSeok thanks him for his help that day. SeokJin asks if HoSeok visits Yeongsan Bridge frequently to look at the trains. HoSeok smiles bashfully over his drink and explains that he liked visiting it when he lived in the children’s home. “Is that when you came up with the rocket story?” SeokJin asks. HoSeok replies, ‘Yeah. The people getting on the train look so cheerful and happy. It almost makes me want to get on there with them, too.” He stops abruptly and calls out to a customer on his way out. The young man is introduced as DongJin, a friend who also grew up in the children’s home. SeokJin invites him to sit with them, hoping that he knows more about HoSeok, but DongJin declines since he’s with other company. Before departing, he mentions that he will stop by Two Star Burger to see HoSeok soon. After his friend leaves, HoSeok tells SeokJin more about his childhood. SeokJin understands why he considers the people at the children’s home his family.

A little tipsy now, HoSeok brings up another memory. The whole family at the children’s home goes to Yangji Stream on August 30th for the yearly fireworks, but when he was about nine, he had to be admitted to the hospital for a check-up. SeokJin either asks, “Did you miss the fireworks that year?” or “Were you sick?” In the first path, HoSeok describes how he snuck out of his hospital room and up to the rooftop to watch the fireworks. Along the way, he found a little kid crying in the stairwell who was looking for his mom and wanted to leave, and he brought the boy to the roof so they could view the fireworks together. He doesn’t know who the kid was or remember his face. (See the Additional Thoughts section at the end for who I hope this kid really was!) In the second path, HoSeok answers that he was falling asleep without explanation but the doctor said there was nothing particularly abnormal. SeokJin tries to ask a leading question to get him to reveal more, but HoSeok’s expression is grim. The paths rejoin with HoSeok asking SeokJin if he has attended the fireworks festival too. He looks wistful when SeokJin replies that he went with his family when he was younger. HoSeok brings up DongJin again. “He’s a really lucky guy. Even though it was pretty late, he got in touch with his parents and moved out to go live with them.” His eyes reflect bitterness. “DongJin and I… both dreamed of going to the fireworks festival with our parents. I guess he’ll achieve his dream for the first time this year.” SeokJin recalls HoSeok’s rocket story and asks if that’s the dream he told JiHun about earlier. HoSeok dismisses this: his dream now is to become famous for dancing. SeokJin remembers him mentioning this in high school. “Right, you said you wanted to become famous as a dancer so it would help you find your mom… Are you still dancing because of that?” HoSeok says that was why he first started but he grew to really love dance. “You don’t have any plans to go find your mom, then?” SeokJin asks. “Why would I go anywhere? My home, work, and friends are all here.” HoSeok laughs, but it seems like he is just holding on rather than truly feeling happy. “I just… like where I am.”

Episode four begins on 8 May, Parents’ Day, in HoSeok’s perspective. As promised, DongJin visits him at Two Star Burger and asks if he can get a job there because he needs money. HoSeok is taken aback since DongJin supposedly has moved out of Songju to live with his father after reconnecting with his family. “What happened to your self-reliance support fund?” DongJin confesses that he gave it all to his father, who said that he needed it to buy them a house but hasn’t contacted him since receiving the money. “I think my expectations were too high. They abandoned me once. Why wouldn’t they abandon me a second time? I wish I hadn’t met them…” DongJin’s voice wavers. HoSeok assures him that his father must be busy looking for houses. “Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll contact you soon. I’ll look into a job for you.” DongJin thanks him multiple times before leaving. After work, HoSeok returns to the bridge and leans on the railing. He often does this even when there are no passing trains—watching the flow of the river empties his mind and puts him at ease. But the calm water cannot still his thoughts today. He thinks about the many children at the home who want to be reunited with their parents, including JiHun, DongJin, and himself. HoSeok is honest about his feelings, acknowledging that he envies DongJin for being able to contact a parent, even one who let him down. He closes his eyes and remembers the day his mom abandoned him at the carousel. In the memory, she hands him a chocolate bar and instructs him to count to ten before opening his eyes. The screen goes black after “three,” and at “nine,” the player hears the sound of someone falling. (The carousel memory is also depicted in the Highlight Reel.)

The story cuts to the next day, 9 May, outside Two Star Burger. SeokJin is uneasy knowing that HoSeok collapsed yesterday, two days earlier than he normally does in the loops, and hovers nearby to keep an eye on him. HoSeok announces that he’s heading out for a delivery and heads outside to the delivery scooter. A passing woman reminds her daughter to count before crossing the street. “One, two, three…” HoSeok watches them cross the street and collapses again. “HoSeok!” SeokJin cries. He gets permission from the restaurant manager to take a still-unconscious HoSeok home to his room that overlooks all of Songju City. SeokJin helps HoSeok onto his bed before looking around his room. The player has a choice to look at the items on the desk or a familiar planter on the dresser. In the first path, SeokJin clicks past the screensaver on HoSeok’s laptop and sees that the web browser is open to an audition information video for a famous international dance team. (This may be the same dance team that one of his friends from the children’s home successfully auditions for, referenced in HoSeok’s 4 July Year 22 entry accompanying the Tear album and 7 July Year 22 entry in The Notes 1.) He remembers HoSeok mentioning that he’s happiest when dancing and knows that he still runs Just Dance, the dance club he started in high school. “I’m sure he’d do well if he applies,” SeokJin muses. In the second path, SeokJin recognizes the plant as the one HoSeok tended every day in their classroom hideout. He wonders what HoSeok was thinking when he brought the plant home and how he feels caring for it. The paths rejoin with HoSeok stirring on the bed, mumbling “Mmm… Mom… Don’t go…” SeokJin recalls that HoSeok called for his mother when he fell asleep in high school. “Is the memory of losing his mom related to his narcolepsy?” he thinks. “Are you okay, HoSeok?” SeokJin asks when HoSeok opens his eyes. HoSeok is confused to find himself at home. SeokJin explains that he happened to see him collapse as he was passing by and assures him that he spoke to his manager. “HoSeok, you know how you keep collapsing… The hospital doesn’t know why yet? You don’t have any idea what makes you collapse, either?” he presses. But HoSeok shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

On 10 May, HoSeok receives a call from one of the younger kids from the children’s home while getting ready for work in his apartment. The kid informs him that Auntie JungHee isn’t working at the home anymore because she has been diagnosed with late-stage colon cancer. She is scheduled to have surgery, but the chances of success are low. HoSeok’s mind goes blank, and he hangs up. When he rushes outside, he runs into SeokJin. “I stopped by because I was worried. Are you headed out?” asks SeokJin. Consumed with the thought of getting to Auntie, HoSeok says he needs to visit JungHee and doesn’t have time to ask why SeokJin is there. SeokJin follows, offering him a ride. The player chooses to have HoSeok either get in the car or refuse the ride. In the first path, HoSeok pretends to be calm when explaining the situation to SeokJin, but his voice noticeably trembles. In the second path, he declines because he’s afraid that speaking about it will make it come true, and then he runs to the bus stop.

The story cuts to HoSeok standing on the bridge, unable to remember how he made it to Auntie’s house after saying goodbye to SeokJin. He can only recall the face he saw through one of the open windows of Auntie’s house: JungHee laughing as she chatted with someone. The news of her illness and the low success rate of the surgery seems like a lie. She was the first person he could rely on after HoSeok lost his mom. He can’t shake off the vision of himself standing in front of the carousel “like an idiot.” Head spinning, he thinks, “I just wanted them to stay by my side. Is that too much to ask? What kind of terrible thing have I ever done?” The perspective switches to SeokJin as he watches HoSeok walk precariously across the bridge, looking both shocked and deeply sad. He reflects on his failed attempts to prevent HoSeok from collapsing here. Even if he stays with HoSeok like he did with JungKook or intervenes like he did with YoonGi, HoSeok always runs to JungHee’s home and then collapses on this bridge on his way back. SeokJin is aware that JungHee has cancer (so the first path of the branching choices has happened at least once, or he found out in earlier loops). The extra collapses of this loop weigh on SeokJin’s mind too. Something changed after HoSeok met DongJin, and SeokJin regrets taking him to the bar on 5 May. He looks on as HoSeok inevitably staggers and falls in the same spot.

SeokJin calls 119 and has HoSeok admitted to the hospital. As before, HoSeok is placed in the same hospital room of the surgery ward as JiMin. SeokJin decides not to visit him because he is afraid of running into JiMin and unsure of what will play out if he does. Now that HoSeok is in the hospital, there is no way to avoid the future accident in the stairwell. A few days later, SeokJin scopes out the scene. He mulls over the repeating scenario of HoSeok chasing down the stairs after a woman he mistakes for his mother. SeokJin connects the dots between HoSeok calling for his mother in his sleep and the way he cried in front of his Auntie’s house. “Everything has to do with ‘mom.’ If HoSeok’s narcolepsy is because of ‘mom,’ does that mean this accident is connected to the idea of mom, too?” In other loops in which SeokJin successfully prevented the stairwell accident, HoSeok continued to collapse more frequently until he eventually did so in the street. SeokJin contemplates how his condition apparently worsens after he sees a woman that reminds him of his mother.

The day after HoSeok is admitted to the hospital, 11 May, SeokJin invites NamJoon to meet him at a cart bar after his work shift. NamJoon brings up HoSeok first. Unable to say that he was the one to call for help, SeokJin pretends to be surprised that HoSeok is in the hospital. NamJoon reports that HoSeok had a minor concussion and is staying there for a couple days so the doctors can run additional tests. SeokJin wonders if HoSeok dreamt of his mother again and feels a pang at the image of him haunted by nightmares. He proceeds to tell NamJoon about their visit to the children’s home, meeting DongJin, and learning about the auntie’s illness. Cautiously, SeokJin proposes that HoSeok’s collapsing may be related to his mother. NamJoon mulls it over before agreeing. “I guess it could. Thinking about his auntie might have led him to think about his mom.” “I’m sure he feels like he’s losing his mother a second time,” SeokJin adds. NamJoon asks if he knows HoSeok’s wish to become a famous dancer in order to find his mom, although his dancing grew into a genuine source of joy. “So I thought… Dance had become Jung HoSeok’s cure. Something that helps him hold on. The thing that helps him bear something he can’t otherwise. That’s what dance is to HoSeok. Don’t you have something like that, SeokJin?” NamJoon regards him silently after this, leaving SeokJin much to contemplate. They promise to visit HoSeok together at the hospital. SeokJin hopes that if NamJoon knows just how much dancing means to HoSeok, he may figure out something from HoSeok’s reaction in the stairwell that SeokJin has missed. He just needs to figure out a natural way to get NamJoon into the stairwell at the right time.

On 12 May, SeokJin and NamJoon meet at the hospital. SeokJin suggests that they take the stairs since the elevators are crowded and lies about HoSeok being on the 3rd floor to strengthen his excuse. When they arrive on the 2nd floor landing, they hear footsteps and voices from above. The woman descending the stairs with a child is the one whom HoSeok keeps mistaking for his mother. SeokJin needs to stall until HoSeok comes down too, so he either suggests that they buy some snacks to bring or mentions that he may have got the wrong floor number and checks his phone. Moments later, they hear pounding footsteps and HoSeok shouting, “Mom!” NamJoon locks eyes with HoSeok and, unaware of what is about to happen, turns to follow the woman. “Ma’am! Excuse me!” Caught off guard, SeokJin is too late to grab HoSeok, who falls and screams. As he rolls on the floor clutching his leg, sealing the injury that will prevent him from dancing, the glass shatters.

SeokJin involves NamJoon in several more loops after that, but his attempts to save HoSeok end in failure. He wonders again if he should admit HoSeok to the hospital at all, but decides that if the incident is connected to HoSeok’s trauma, it needs to be solved rather than avoided. On a new 12 May, SeokJin stands near the hospital stairwell, prepared to intervene himself and ask HoSeok about his mother afterward. He spots JiMin emerging from the 2nd floor physical therapy room and pressing the elevator button. Hiding out of sight in the stairwell, SeokJin mulls over his options. If he prevents HoSeok’s accident, he still needs to get JiMin out of the hospital too—an effort that has been unsuccessful so far due to JiMin stopping at the exit or later having a seizure when they pass the arboretum. “Maybe the answer to HoSeok is… JiMin? What if… this incident is the variable between HoSeok and JiMin?” Heart pounding, SeokJin begins to hope that they can save each other. He doesn’t have enough time before HoSeok comes down the stairs to figure out what to say to JiMin and decides that he will just have to make the reason for his presence in the hospital believable. “JiMin!” he calls. “SeokJin? How are you here—” Looking shocked, JiMin steps back like he’s about to run away. SeokJin realizes that they haven’t met in this loop yet, and JiMin strongly dislikes people knowing that he’s in the hospital. With no time to explain, SeokJin leaves him behind and rushes into the stairwell. But he’s too late to catch HoSeok’s fall, and the story concludes with the glass shattering once again. (Based on The Notes 1, we know that the “successful” decision SeokJin makes in later loops is to stay out of sight when he calls JiMin. JiMin is puzzled by the silhouette he sees in the doorway and enters the stairwell just in time to catch HoSeok.)

Additional Thoughts

JiMin’s mother, Sim SeonMi, becomes one of the most fleshed-out adult characters in the BU narrative so far thanks to his story. We already knew the most about SeokJin’s father, Kim ChangJun, due to his role in The Notes 2. I’ve had an inkling of a suspicion that JiMin’s parents were connected in some way to SeokJin’s father, so I was satisfied to see this confirmed in the game. I’m curious about JiMin’s father and the lack of details surrounding him. He has only been depicted once in The Notes 1, when JiMin returned home days after sneaking out of the hospital with his friends.

Though it’s never explicitly stated in the texts, the Wings Short Film #6 MAMA depicts that HoSeok is diagnosed with Munchausen’s syndrome, a psychological disorder in which the individual pretends to be ill or deliberately produces symptoms of the illness. His prescription pills are actually placebos. On 16 May Year 22 in The Notes 1, HoSeok confesses to JiMin that his narcolepsy is fake, although he doesn’t feign symptoms on purpose.

I was personally a little disappointed with the lack of new information in HoSeok’s story. While his relationships with the auntie and other children from the home are explored in greater detail, the most significant plot points if his arc have already been covered as of The Notes 2.

I have no proof for this, but I want the unidentified crying boy who young HoSeok met in the hospital stairwell and brought to the rooftop to see the fireworks to be JiMin. If HoSeok was 9 at the time, then JiMin was 7. He has been in and out of the hospital since the arboretum incident (earlier that same year), so it is plausible that he had an overlapping stay with HoSeok in the summer of Year 11.

As mentioned above, the following “tl;dr” commentary summarizes the parenthetical notes I provided in the summaries in case you want to review them on their own.

Stopped Time — tl;dr commentary

In the opening cutscene, JiMin plays on the colored tiles in a hospital hallway and stops when he reaches “the line” by the exit door. This line marks the end of the psychiatric ward and is first described in his 11 May Year 22 entry in The Notes 1.

The Songho Foundation patron meeting that SeokJin attends on 22 April Year 22 was suggested by the city’s Deputy Mayor at the inauguration ceremony on 11 April. That earlier ceremony played out in JungKook’s arc.

Before the loop reset, SeokJin waits outside the Gyeong Il Hospital as he plans his next move since JiMin is moving out of the surgical ward that day. The date is unspecified in the game, but in The Notes 1, he is scheduled to return to the psychiatric ward on 16 May.

In this story, SeokJin picks TaeHyung to help him free JiMin from the hospital. He hopes that TaeHyung will be JiMin’s “answer,” just like YoonGi needed JungKook. JungKook saving YoonGi is not a solution that played out in YoonGi’s story, but this is a familiar theme from Notes 1 and forward. However, SeokJin and TaeHyung are caught by JiMin’s mother while trying to leave the hospital with him. We know from The Notes 1 that SeokJin’s later, successful choice ends up being HoSeok instead.

Before coldly leaving SeokJin and TaeHyung to rejoin her son, Sim SeonMi touches TaeHyung’s shoulder for a moment. This same gesture was given to HoSeok in the hospital after JiMin’s seizure at the bus stop on 15 September Year 20 in Notes 1. To SeokJin, her presence is like a wall separating them from JiMin. This echoes HoSeok’s feeling that she was drawing an uncrossable line between them that September.

At the end of the story, the vision JiMin sees reflected in the sink water of “that day” is referring to 6 April Year 11 and the events of the arboretum, first introduced in that dated entry in The Notes 1 and revealed in full on 12 August Year 22 of The Notes 2.

Someone Left Behind — tl;dr commentary

In the story’s opening, SeokJin refers to HoSeok’s collapse on 10 May. This is the date that HoSeok collapses and wakes up in the hospital in The Notes 1, and it is likely the moment referenced by his bridge scene in the I Need U MV.

When SeokJin observes that HoSeok is on good terms with the kids from the children’s home, HoSeok explains that he’s only been out of the home for about three months. He moved into his rooftop room on 25 Feb Year 22 according to that date’s Note accompanying the Persona album.

As he does in the game, HoSeok refers to the trains as “rockets” in his 4 July Year 22 entry from The Notes 2.

HoSeok’s memory of being abandoned at the carousel is also depicted in the Highlight Reel.

When searching HoSeok’s apartment, SeokJin notices the laptop’s web browser is open to an audition information video for a famous international dance team. This may be the same dance team that one of his friends from the children’s home successfully auditions for, referenced in HoSeok’s 4 July Year 22 entry accompanying the Tear album and 7 July Year 22 entry in The Notes 1.

At the end of the story, SeokJin hopes to gain JiMin’s help to save HoSeok but ends up spooking him because they haven’t met in that loop yet. Based on The Notes 1, we know that the “successful” decision SeokJin makes in later loops is to stay out of sight when he calls JiMin. JiMin is puzzled by the silhouette he sees in the doorway and enters the stairwell just in time to catch HoSeok.

Did you learn anything new from these stories that I did not specifically mention? Let me know in the replies or tags! Please stay tuned for part 4, featuring TaeHyung and the Epilogue.

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