five stupid boys

two rotten apples [m] | pt. 3

credit: x.

❛❛we’re next-door neighbors and have hated each other since middle school but now we’re going to the same university how can we avoid the other person like the plague so there isn’t a crime scene— what do you mean you promised my mom you would keep an eye on me???? you fucking planned this❜❜ AU

COUNT → 21.489

GENRE → smut | angst

PAIRING → jungkook | reader

WARNINGS → dom and sub tones | threesome | oral sex | explicit language | penetration | public sex | grinding | graphic dirty talk | slight female masturbation | overstimulation


As the back of Jungkook’s head rested against the driver seat’s headrest, catching his breath, your glare hardened.

Once again, he’d fucked you and not cared whether you came or not. In fact, for the duration of his penis being in your vagina, he’d barely even touched you. And sadly, it hadn’t even occurred to you he’d used you once again until it was too late. Your clit didn’t matter to him apparently; your pleasure didn’t matter to him either. All that mattered was his dick. That’s all that ever fucking mattered.

After that weekend at the camping grounds where you actually came for once, you were expecting something better than whatever the fuck he called this performance. Your horny brain had quickly forgotten that it’d been your own fingers that got yourself off—not him—and those nights you spent in his tent were no exception. Why were you so surprised? This was Jungkook you were talking about—he would never fucking care about you or any part of you.

And that’s why this was the final fucking straw.

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Anon Prompted: “Ian telling baby Yevgeny how and when he fell in love with Mickey, not realizing Mickey hears the whole one-sided conversation.”

Hope this is what you were looking for, love. I’m a total sucker for Ian/Yev bonding. :)

Ian paused by the open door to Yevgeny’s bedroom. He’d first been drawn to the room by the suspicious silence of the boy inside. Usually after school, the kid would be tearing apart the house or watching television with the contents of a bowl of dry Lucky Charms scattered around himself for Ian to vacuum up later.

Not sitting in quiet contemplation on his bed, chin in his hands as he stared at the ripped out knees of his jeans as though they held all the answers to his five year old existential crisis.

“Hey, buddy,” Ian tried, voice soft with concern. He crossed the room to sit next to his son. “Are you feeling alright?”

When all he received in response was a distracted nod, Ian pressed the back of his hand to the little boy’s forehead. He wasn’t sick.

“Daddy just called,” Ian offered, reaching to the side to move Yev to sit on his lap, moving himself back to lean against the broken headboard of the bed. Any mention of Mickey was always more than enough to get the boy’s attention, and Ian brushed his fingers through Yev’s hair when he looked up.

“Yeah?” he asked, trying to keep the angst in his voice. Ian just smiled and nodded.

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