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itsgivingautism · 3 months

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01/18/24 — Zia rants about being autistic & physically disabled & chronically ill in a fucked ableist society & having to be dependent on their partner

Started to have meltdown over this & other stuff to my partner before he left for work…. I didn’t meant to have a morning meltdown. I found myself shutting down and feeling guilty before he left bc I can recognize it’s hard on him even when he doesn’t wanna show it. But needed a place to rant and ended up going off down below for a like an hour. I don’t want to open up but I made tumblr after not being on here since high school for an outlet for a lot of reasons, with support & encouragement from therapists to do so. But I also hate being perceived. I’m just so fucking annoying tho I somehow always bring attention to myself that I never want….. but I’m also learning to tell my story & share my experiences. As an autistic person late diagnosed who was severely abused throughout my entire childhood opening up, learning to unmask & not shutdown, understanding my own thoughts, feelings, & experiences is so fucking hard.

I am so grateful for my partner but god I wish I was independent. I wish I had the ability to take care of myself. I wish I wasn’t so fucking dependent on his love and support. I wish I wasn’t so needy, or clingy. I wish I wasn’t disabled physically and mentally. I wish I wasn’t so wounded & traumatized. I wish I wasn’t so chronically ill. I wish I wasn’t in autistic burnout, a state of prolonged cognitive decline that one average can last 2-10 years.

I wish I could get a job. Even working from home but my mind can’t even. I’m constantly age regressing and going across different timelines of my mind and getting trapped, constantly disconnecting from this current physical reality even when I seem like a part of it to others - but it’s just automatic masking as a trauma response. All a result of my CPTSD+autism+adhd

I haven’t been able to work a real job since 2020. I’ve been fighting to get the support & benefits I need but constantly being shit on. Having to go thru constant channels to prove how severe my issues are and then being told try this treatment first and when it doesn’t work its still somehow my fault. I’m sick of having to prove my disabilities & illnesses and then when I show how bad they are I’m being dramatic. But when I mask & show strength, I must be making it up. How could you be so strong about then? There’s no winning. Only losing. I don’t see a point in showing weakness or asking for help. But then refusing to and bottling it all up, that has lead me to deeply problematic bad spirals. I just want to be taken seriously by doctors & medical professionals. I hate this country.

I wish I was normal. I hate burdening my partner. Although I know he doesn’t want me to feel like one and he genuinely wants to help me, I also know I stress him out….

I am dependent on him financially while his job is fucking over their contracts, refusing to give him & his coworkers the raises they were supposed to get a year ago. Him and his coworkers have collectively trying to unionize for months (which is the only reason they actually didn’t get a pay cut which the company was tryna do even tho they were supposed to give raises last year) and ofc my partner has been the one leading the unionizing. (We joke about my radicalism really rubbing off on him)

I’m constantly trying to find ways to make money, which end up doing more damage to my body. He hate what it does to me. He wishes he could do more while stuck in his work contract. it’s a lot on him. And I feel like his life would be so much less stressful without me tho….. or at least if I could just be normal & healthy….

Even my friends point out that unless I’m talking about my emotions & trauma I don’t make any sense talking…. like burnout really shows…. It’s embarrassing constantly. I sound like a so clearly disabled most of the time. I used to exceptionally smart & articulate before this burnout. Ik they mean it accepting my but it’s hard when 90% of what I say comes out wrong. It’s hard when I’m trying to be supportive and it sounds like asshole shit bc my issues with speech & cognition. I want to be a lovely validating friend. Not the one they have to dissect my word vomit to find the love & support in foolish clumsily words. I’m technically hyperlexic so I can keep creating words but my other learning disabilities downgrade the quality & meaning of those words.

But I also only make sense when talking about my looping emotions & trauma is bc I only share what I can (the deeper stuff is vaulted by selective mutism & shutdowns). This is the shit going thru my brain, talking to myself about and looping constantly. Ofc it’s the only thing I can talk about. But even most the time I’m still not making sense entirely. But it’s all I can think about, talk to myself about, and it’s all the my brain is giving me permission to share about myself.

#disability rant #autistic rant #actually autistic #actually disabled #actually chronically ill #autistic adult #autistic blogger #disabled blogger #autistic experiences #disabled #chronically ill #actually cptsd #Zias diary 🌿#Zia 🌿#chronic illness

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lingy910y · 4 months

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Weekly Tag Wednesday Friday

thanks @lupeloto for creating the game and @mybrainismelted for tagging me

favorite tv show? shameless

favorite character? ian

favorite relationship in the show? gallavich

favorite sibling relationship in the show? ian and lip. also if you enjoy their relationship this edit will fucking kill you

youtube

favorite art form? books but specifically fanfics ty

a talent you wish you had? rn it’s sewing…then i can make clothes for my plushies

what is one thing that can always make your day better? coming onto tumblr dot com and seeing notes, fandom events/games, or amazing gifsets/fics/art on the dash

favorite fictional character of all time? still ian

dream place to travel to? japan

you’re planning a huge party, what’s the theme? gallavich wedding inspired 😌

favorite pizza topping of all time? plain cheese thanks

you can pick one celebrity to have dinner with…who? cameron monaghan yes my answers are very predictable

favorite movie that you kinda know is bad but still love? i think most of my fav movies are perfect despite popular opinion but the rwrb film…it just changed too much things so it’s not as good as the book but still good

how would you describe your style? casual

finally, something making you smile this week? my decomytree messages 🥰

combining that with last week's bc i didn't do it (yes this is the first time i've done a weekly tag wednesday the week after) thanks kat and @energievie for tagging me

choose a fandom: shameless

how did you first hear about it? i remember hearing abt it here and there on social media but not paying attention cause i wasn’t into live action at the time. i purposely searched up “top 10 canon gay ships” bc i was too frustrated with queerbait lmao. everyone was praising gallavich so i looked them up and gallavich scenes welcomed me with open arms 😌

do you own only merch? yes! from the gallacrafts shop: paper dolls stickers, breakfast boys stickers and stained glass window pin. i lost my fimo boys pin and i’ll never be over it 😔 also two keychains, three stickers, four fake id cards, two instagram cards, and a ring necklace with “shameless” embroidered on it that came with my gallavich plushies 🥺🥺

what thing involving this fandom do you think non-fans would be surprised to hear? seconding deanna—how it’s majorly a supportive community despite a quite tragic and graphic show

favorite character? the chick from the movie brave

in 5 words explain why they’re your fav: industrious, ambitious, conscientious, work ethic

choose another fandom: bnha

what’s your least favorite thing about the source material? the current war arc cause the pacing sucks

favorite ship: bkdk

best fanfic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31715602/chapters/78496537

one of the only longfics i ever liked bc it just got me so emotionally invested in updates 😭

describe the vibe of the fandom in 5 words: drama, competitive, complain, talented, discourse……….yeah

what’s your name spelled backwards? gnil

tell you how old you are the way a three year old might: i will be a grown up next year

what is your favorite ice cream? vanilla

tell me something you wish more people knew about you: how much hours i spend ruminating bc of anxiety on some days and how hard it is to control

where is home for you? my bed

if you could be an anthropomorphized stuffed animal, what stuffie would you want to be? idk ppl say i’m like a dog

the movie you wish everyone would watch: eeaoo, still think it’s an universal movie

what makes you really emotional lately? ppl saying nice things abt my fics, rewatching shamey with my friend

are you okay? kinda

tagging no one cause it's too much to read

#Youtube

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doycngs · 2 years

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kim taehyung. | oh, lucifer. [i]

summary. you’re pretty damn stupid for accidentally drawing the sigil of lucifer, in effect, trying to summon the devil a thousand times over... but you’re also pretty sure he was more stupid for falling for your dumbass.

pairing. y/n x bts’ taehyung

genre. devil!au, strangers to lovers!au

word count. 7k

[two part series]

part I | part II

warnings. fem!reader [she/her pronouns], swearing, inaccurate descriptions of religious aspects, atheist!reader, my bad humor as per usual, reader has no sense of self-preservation, i think that’s it? and little proofreading ig bc i’m lazy

inspo. this tumblr post!

taglist.

(please just reply to this post if you wanna join the taglist! thanks <3)

just a reminder that this is fiction and i made up almost half of the religious stuff i was spewing… i don’t mean to offend anyone at all or try to make evil of religion or anything like that. it’s a concept that i got inspired by off of other fics and just inside my head so please do not flame me and correct me if i got something superrrrr off thank youuu <3

|—————|

BORED, BORED, BORED.

Your professor spews out more and more words that you couldn’t care to comprehend this early in the morning. You really should have practiced some sense of control the one day it really mattered; sign-up day for classes.

Being almost thirty minutes late paired with your horrible habit of pressing snooze, the worst classes (aka the classes that started at the ass crack of dawn) were all that were left by the time you signed onto your college website.

The pit of dread that pooled in your stomach the second you noticed your impending doom was all your fault. You really couldn’t blame a single person besides yourself, despite the way you wanted to with all of your heavy heart.

Seulgi had been really upset at your 7:30 AM scream of frustration that horrid morning.

Sighing, wishing that you could dissociate from your head until class was called for the day, you’re forced to blearily watch the board. Your professor’s words were incredibly small since you had chosen the farthest seat you could manage in this feeble, auditorium-shaped classroom. Wondering in the back of your head how the kids that usually sat back here learned anything, you get your answer by looking left and right.

All but one other girl in the back row were as slumped as you were, leaning on their desk and weakly holding a pencil to disguise their slight snores. You envied them, actually. As careless as you were about your responsibilities, you weren’t that bad. Paying thousands to go to school was not worth sleeping through. And even if you were a little hypocritical of your own opinion at times, at least you tried your hardest.

Reminding yourself of this fact, your back automatically straightens and you will yourself to open your ears. Slapping a little sense into your puffy cheeks, you determinedly pick up your blue pen, click its end in confidence, and write down the title of your professor’s current slide.

You had done the reading late last night, which was why you were so confident about your carelessness this morning. But you’re glad realization seeped into your brain soon enough. This degree wasn’t going to earn itself and through the sheer will of writing this one slide, it was a step closer to throwing your cap into the clear blue skies graduation day.

Skip forward four slides later, your professor is now on a topic he’s reviewing from last week. You’re relieved, dropping your pen from your fingers and torso twisting itself left and right in your uncomfortable seat. Glad that you paid attention last week, you tune your ears, and get back to your pen.

It’s running out though, so you switch to a purple one pulled out from your bookbag, sucking on the silver tip to draw the ink out. You hadn’t used it in a while.

As you look up to the front for the board though, your professor is showing off his cat for some reason. Curling your lips in, you sputter, a little confused at the sudden switch in focus. Not that you were mad… the cat was cute.

Past five minutes in though, he’s showing off his entire pet collection to date, and thankfully, freshie Taehyun is in the front row, taking the hit for everyone today, asking as many questions as possible to steer your professor off track.

Not your problem.

Checking your phone, you had twenty more minutes until you were out of here. Blowing hair from your face, you nod in satisfaction.

Flipping to the back of your notebook, you decide to continue this design you’ve been working on for your graphic design class. You had to create a symbol based on a letter you had chosen, incorporating symbols and meaning behind it that made the viewer think. As a person that tries not to think too much, this was quite the battle for you.

Having a few concrete ideas in mind though, you begin a rough sketch, choosing the letter V. It was a pretty letter, no? Starting with a capital letter in Times New Roman, you curl two lines off from its side, crossing them to make an X-shape above it. Wondering where to take it from there, you bite at the pen unconsciously, wracking your brain for what else to add.

Figuring you could add meaning to whatever you doodle later, you make a larger X above the one you just made by extending the lines. Balancing it out, you connect them with a horizontal line, liking it so far. It was missing something though… hmm. Crossing out the first sketch, you begin once more, making an altered version beside it.

And that’s what you do for the last minutes of class, redesigning and crossing out each you didn’t like and wanting to change a little as your professor excitedly rambled about his pet parrot.

You don’t notice a looming figure practically glaring up at you in irking irritation because… why would you? Satan was quite a busy man but could tell when his sigil was genuinely being used for a purpose. But your way of making it was… deluded.

Of all his years watching his symbol be passed down and drawn millions of times, never once did he think someone had drawn it by accident. And for such a dallying reason as for a fucking design class.

You jump when your professor gasps in the realization that his allotted time for lessons is over, happily dismissing everyone with a goodbye. A good few students pat Taehyun in the back for his genius.

Shoving your floppy notebook and pens into your bookbag, you practically fly out of the backdoors, leading to free air. At last, your torture was over and breakfast was calling at the library!

Speedily walking to the large sanctuary you proclaimed as your second home, you double-check your soft-food snack was actually in your bag. Your second-guessing is reassured and pushed back when your fingertips brush the several muffin bars you had haphazardly thrown in your black hole of a carrier.

You were quite excited to get this assignment for your graphic design class over with, considering that your inspiration was askew these days. You were just on the cusp of getting something good when your professor called time for class. And you had until three P.M. for your next class today, thankfully leaving enough space for you to finish this all.

Grateful to finally be indoors, a rush of warm air blows from above as you enter the library. Rushing to your usual crook in the corner, your deft fingers rip open a muffin bar package, stuffing your mouth quickly to flip open the back of your notebook again.

Your purple-inked pen is starting to die off only a minute into continuing your design and you muffle a little swear past the food in your mouth. Glancing up for a split second to nab a new pen from your bag, a dampened scream brings crumbs flying out your lips as you register a very menacing man sitting across from you.

His sharp, defined eyebrows scrunch more as he gets hit in the face with the fragments of muffin, calmingly but annoyingly, wiping at his cheek with a flick. His dark eyes open once more, the glaringly red irises causing your poor heart to beat at an abnormal rate.

Slapping a hand to your mouth, you’re frozen still at this all-black suited man before you, all long limbs with a heavy, terrifying aura surrounding him. You would start bolting out of this place if your monkey brain knew how to start working and initiate Plan Survival.

“I’d appreciate it if you changed your design, little human. It’s quite infuriating, being summoned thousands of times over.” The man bellows, jaw shifting in bored exhaustion.

You flinch at his deep voice, shoulders bunching upon themselves as you began registering the non-humanlike characteristics of this… “man.”

“Y-You have… horns.” You can’t help but point rudely, speaking around your mouthful of muffin, “And… red eyes.”

He rolls the latter, long eyelashes fluttering at your words as he pinches his thumb and pointer together with his temples between them. “How marvelous of you to observe. Did you register my words at all, girl?”

Swallowing roughly, you grip the armrests of your chair tightly, willing this scary guy to go away. At your stunned silence, Satan cocks his head, deadpan expression tilting forward as his chest follows, leaning into your space. He’s halfway off his chair, arms braced on the edge of your side of the table to glare into your trembling eyes.

He doesn’t tear his gaze away from you when he slams a hand to your notebook, making you jump at the sudden action. You’re scared shitless but unable to disconnect your gaping at his scarlet-colored irises.

The man slowly parts his plush lips. “If I feel like a puny pull from your direction, those little hands drawing my sigil once more, I might just drag you down to the darkest pit in Hell myself. Understand, girl?”

Your shaking inhale of air combines with a shiver down your entire body and all you can do is nod. Your head spins when the suited man grins devilishly, all perfect white teeth with eyes crinkled up as his lips form an ironic heart shape.

“Lovely. Have a delightfully horrid day, little human.” The man winks and then he’s gone, simply unexisting as his physical form disappears into thin air.

Oh, God. Your muffin bar is about to suddenly reappear from the bottom of your stomach.

|—————|

Seulgi has that incredulous look glued on her face right now. The one that predictably comes every time you’re on a tangent about something her tiny brain couldn’t process all that well. And usually, you’re quite unbothered by the look because some people weren’t built like you but now— now that it truly fucking mattered that she took in your words… you felt like sucker-punching that expression right off her face and bonking the idea into her skull.

“This dude just fucking— disappeared in thin air, Seulgi! I’m not going psycho! He genuinely had red horns growing out of his head like an evil goat or some shit and these terrifying red spheres o-of like… Satan!”

Seulgi can only sigh, slouching in her swivel chair to take in your fast explanation with several seconds of silence. The hope of your roommate taking you seriously for once shrivels when she only twists herself back around to continue her reading.

“Seulgi! This is serious!” You spit out, stopping your heated pacing on your 130 square feet of dorm room to whack her with a throw pillow.

She yanks the weapon away from your grip, tossing it on her side of the room to grit her teeth. “I have to study for this exam, Y/N. I am seriously going to lose my nonexistent marbles if you continue this.”

After twenty minutes of telling this horror story over and over, exhaustion wins and you practically collapse over Seulgi, ending up with your butt on the floor, head and arms in her lap. She pityingly runs her fingers through your bird’s nest of hair, which resulted from your endless pulling earlier.

“You are absolutely batshit crazy…” Her loving tone doesn’t help your mood, “And as your best—”

“Only—” You add.

“— friend, I am obligated to tell you that you are losing it.”

“Unfortunately.” You mutter into Seulgi’s knees, pressing your eye sockets hard into them. She puts a stop to your light attempt at self-harm, gripping your chin lightly.

“Are you seriously suggesting that Lucifer himself visited you because you accidentally drew his ritual symbol a hundred times?”

Pouting, you shove your face back into Seulgi’s thighs, “It was more like… a thousand times.”

“Oh, honey…” Seulgi sighs, untangling the threads of your hair, “You need a psychiatrist badly.”

|—————|

The thoughts of this dude crowd your little skull all the time. You just couldn’t get over how Satan himself fucking appeared before you like he was meeting you for brunch. Like… could you get any more main character? This happened to people in movies, not in real life by accident.

You genuinely were atheist before this entire ordeal and now your world’s flipped upside down because… the Devil came before you to tell you to shut the fuck up. How do you make that up? That’s what you try to convince Seulgi and she’s as stubborn as could be. Never did you ever want to hurt your precious little roomie so much and you’re quite the nonviolent person if you do say so yourself.

Another thing you couldn’t get over how handsome he was. You always pictured the Devil as an ugly three-headed guy with a horned tail, a gigantic naked red body with fangs or something but… he came to you in a well-tailored suit, ironed and cleaned to perfection. His obsidian shaded hair was parted in the middle, a strand in his ruby eyes that shined to a bright candy red when in the light. His lips were very luscious and his smooth skin was almost a caramel color that looked soft to the touch. What appeared like a black branch of visible veins stretched from his Adam’s apple, slinking into his hidden left breast by a loose silk button-up.

You now understand how the Devil lured sinners to Hell now. He played a part-time human playboy that hunted with his devilish (ignore the pun) good looks alone.

Now, this is an objective observation though. You would never really fall for Satan because… that’s a horrible way to make your life even worse. But you couldn’t ignore the obvious attraction to him. So when you mention this part to Seulgi a few days later, she laughs even harder at your “running joke”.

“Now, you’re definitely screwing with me. Please stop, this is so embarrassing for you.” Seulgi wheezes past her squeaking laughter, your anger simmering behind your glare.

“I’m not projecting my desires on this guy, alright. Satan was dressed this way—”

Another burst of squeaks come your way, “I can’t, I can’t! You can’t just say Satan with such a straight face—!”

You kind of wanted to be toxic and cut this girl off. But then who else would you rant to about this? Seulgi was only beginning to entertain you and your stories of the Devil now because it was her shot of serotonin every day.

You needed a way to convince her, it was digging and itching in the absolute marrow of your bones to prove this girl wrong. You weren’t crazy! You weren’t! You were confident in what you saw and you would die on this hill if you had to.

So that’s what your thinking was as you opened up your notebook again. You hadn’t even touched the cursed thing since you had your personal encounter with Satan a week ago but you died to.

Instincts had screamed at you the second you bolted out of the library to yeet the blue spiraled book into its belonged home of the school’s back dumpsters. That’s exactly what you had done and you had regretted it almost immediately, diving into the grimy green container to fetch it again.

After all, you had to pass your professor’s class, all be damned if the Devil is going to stop you from doing that.

But after, you had raced home, shoved it into the back of your school-assigned desk’s drawer, and called it a day until you absolutely had to study from the cursed thing. You had been afraid to touch it since, even when Seulgi tried to bait you multiple times into showing her for shits and giggles.

Your resolve had been scratching off every day though, that simpering, bubbling liquid anger held in your stomach worming its way up like an erupting volcano. Your roommate was really on her last straw when she drunkenly poked at you to get the notebook and prove her wrong.

Okay, maybe you were a little crazy in this aspect because you did exactly what you knew you shouldn’t have done because your pride told you so… You were a bit of a hypocrite. Can you blame yourself though? Tequila and your fuzzy brain never really had the best of relationships. That’s your excuse anyway as you fumbled for the notebook and took that purple pen again, messily drawing the sigil of Lucifer to summon him.

You should have taken his warning more seriously and the quick sobering you experienced was like a bucket of ice-cold water dumped over your head. The insistent swearing under your breath and panicking expression only had Seulgi grinning as she laid starfish on her bed, giggling at your stupidity.

“See? I told you, dummy! You’re so funny for—”

Dread enveloped you as he appeared at the foot of your bed, sitting cross-legged on your desk. The Devil picked under his rugged nails, staring dead straight into your eyes, your frozen form sat kneeling by your pillows.

He only grinned, that heart-shaped smile coming back as he took in your attire and state. You had sleep shorts on, a large T-shirt of the Jonas Brothers thrown over them. The warm skin of your cheeks and neck were appealing to Lucifer as he eyed your heaving body up and down.

“You should have listened carefully, little human.” He got up gracefully, ignoring Seulgi’s terrified, gaping figure curled in the corner as he approached you.

You struggled to fight for yourself. “I am so sorry. I am so so, so sorry. I-I didn’t think—”

“That I was serious, did you? You atheists never take a good warning to heart, hm?” He grabbed at your jaw in a flash, forcefully tilting your head as he took in your pretty features.

Your alcohol-induced brain breathed in the Devil’s cologne and shuddered at the enticing smell. He was quite literally built to be your wet dream. It was sick to think about but that was a large portion of what you wondered, despite the impending doom of your situation.

It was like he could read you as he smirked when you conjured those thoughts. “What a strange one you are…”

He continued inspecting you but the nails slowly grew into long claws, pressing in to almost draw blood from your cheeks. Wincing, in instinct you bend at his too-strong hold, gripping at his long fingers to let you go.

“P-Please, I promise I won’t do it again. Please, let me go!” You whimpered past dry lips.

The last words you can consciously remember, paired with the image of blaring scarlet eyes forced your own to flutter closed.

“I don’t think so, little one.”

|—————|

“Oh, my God...”

“Please. It’s oh, Lucifer down here.”

Grasping onto your band tee, you whip yourself around in every direction, taking in the horror of the place you were currently at.

“This has to be a fever dream.”

“Oh, I bet you wish it was.” The Devil chuckles darkly, sitting low upon his throne with his toned legs spread wide.

“Why…” You’re starting to panic, breathing uneven as your limbs grow weak, “Why did you bring me here?”

“Because I wanted a new jester.” He sarcastically drawls and you look up, willing yourself to calm down.

This is insane! Just a few minutes ago, you swear you were with Seulgi, getting shit-faced in your shared dorm. You hadn’t meant to actually provoke him to come to you again. Fuck, were you too drunk? Was this all a dream? It had to be right? You’re not actually in Hell right now?

“You’re in Hell, darling. Do not doubt that.” The Devil heaves as he stands up, approaching your crouched, sweating form, it being steaming in his throne room. He had forgotten how weak little humans were and with a slight wave of his forefingers, the temperature drops significantly.

“Can you… read my thoughts?” You ask fearfully, somehow still bold enough with your tipsiness to look Satan in the eyes.

Mashed potatoes.

The Devil chuckles at your abrupt hungry thinking, looking to the side to hide his smile.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met a human like you,” He says mirthfully, “What’s your name, girl?”

He bends in half to reach lower into your space. As much as you want to back away, you will yourself not be so afraid. If Satan was willing to entertain himself with you for a little bit, maybe you could charm your way out of this literal Hellhole.

“It’s Y/N. Don’t you already know that?” You acquire, tilting your head to the side.

That devilish smile slides back onto his visage, ruby eyes flickering to that candy red when the braziers in the wide room come close enough. “Well, of course I do. I just wondered if you knew it yourself, Y/N.”

You can’t help the way your tongue dries up at the Devil speaking your name so carelessly. Maybe you weren’t leaving this place.

“In Hell, things work differently. Humans can forget their names with time.”

Your heart seizes with those words. “I-I’ll forget my name? I don’t want to—”

“Oh, relax, will you?” He squints down, disliking your stumbling, “I haven’t quite thrown you to the pits yet. You’re fine up here with me.”

“And… do you plan to? W-Why do you have me up here now? With you?”

Noticing belatedly that his eyes scrunch up to crescents way before his mouth forms that charming shape, you watch as the Devil ponders his response.

“Hmm, let’s just say I needed a new perspective on something. Help me before I take your soul?”

You scramble back, about to twist and bolt away from the Devil when a searing hot grip wraps around your ankle and yanks you back into him.

With wide eyes when you flip onto your back, you rush to breathlessly explain yourself. “I promise my flight instinct usually doesn’t work, I don’t know why I just—”

“Let’s make a deal since you so obviously want to leave me.”

You want to protest just so that you could get on this guy’s good side but you had severely fucked that possibility up just now.

“Help me with these few things and I’ll let you leave Hell. Try to run one more time and to the Great Pit you go, hm?”

The bargain sounded easy enough, right?

He extends a large palm for you to shake and you slowly envelop your small one into his. A yelp escapes your lips when a brand of a very familiar sigil appears on your wrist where his thumb rested in your grasp. The raised, irritated skin stings, and when you run a featherlight touch over it, a whimper follows.

Looking up to the Devil again, he winks, the alcohol you downed earlier tonight swirling your head worse. “Just a precaution.”

The saying, “Don’t make deals with the Devil” pops into your mind, and looking down at the brand on your wrist, an odd rush of reverence for those wise words wash over you. You suppose it’s a lesson you’re soon to learn well.

He offers another hand to help you stand and begrudgingly you take it, not wanting to upset Satan into making more marks on your skin.

“Where are we going?” You pose, looking up to see Satan’s sharp jaw shift, a natural smirk curling onto his face.

“You’ll see, impatient one.”

Wanting to ask more questions in curiosity, you fight the urge and zip your mouth shut. The Devil glances over your timid figure though, who walks much slower beside him, almost needing to take twice as many steps as he does.

What a delicate little thing humans were. For all the deals he overlooks when bringing human souls down to Hell for banishing, the Devil wasn’t all that well-versed in their actual behavior. It’s been eons since he had been attached to a specific one for so long. A string of connection that you unknowingly pull at has been goading him to keep an eye on you.

You’re a strange human indeed, and Lucifer can’t help but try and keep you at his side for a little longer. He was abusing his power with that brand but what you didn’t know, didn’t matter. After all, the Devil doesn’t claim to have a good conscience. He only has it on Wednesdays actually... sometimes Thursdays if he was feeling dandy.

Unfortunately for you, today is a Saturday.

“You can ask your trivial questions, human. I do not mind. Many are not well-versed in religion these days.” Lucifer avoids your shocked expression when he reads your head again.

“So you can read my thoughts!” You jump in the middle of walking, gaining a bit of distance beside the Devil before falling behind quickly enough, “I knew you could! Can you do it all the time?”

He scratches under his chin, “If I want to, I can. A little energy I exchange for great power. It’s how I’m confident in the sorry lives I take here in Hell.”

You cringe a little in your excited state, forgetting how morbid this place was. “Ah, right. I, um, then… I won’t be thrown back here again, will I?”

Lucifer struggles to lie to your face for some reason so he twists his words in the natural way he usually does. “Well, you made a deal with me, darling—”

Your cheeks heat at the nickname.

“— you’ll be able to tell if you decide to escape, no?”

Nodding, you accept this fate and decide to implore the Devil’s lore.

“So what do you do down here? Just oversee all the sinners and bring them down here when it’s time?”

“That is the general idea, yes. The especially horrible ones get tempted by many of my associates to be invited to the party early.” He bares his teeth in a bright, broad beam, defined brows raising in a quirk.

“I see… like a succubus?”

For how little Lucifer thought you were about his world, he was a little surprised you knew what a succubus was.

“Yes, exactly. And how do you know of a succubus, girl?”

You tell him like it was, plain and simple. “Jennifer’s Body.”

He scoffs at your reply.

You wonder in your head if you were a bad person for being an exception to this. I mean… if you accidentally drew his sigil an ungodly amount of times on accident, was that enough to be sentenced to Hell?

You’re startled by a warm petting at the top of your head. When you peer up, there’s a bemused smile on the Devil’s plush lips.

“You have many fickle thoughts, girl. It’s quite beguiling.”

Should you be grateful for this compliment? You had no clue.

Another loud scoff passes his mouth as he takes his hand off your head, looking forward again.

“Any more dying questions, human?”

“Um… why do you need my opinion on this thing you’re bringing me to?” You ask meekly, wondering whether you were just going to receive another, “Wait and you’ll see” type of answer.

The Devil folds his hands behind his back, the black double doors you were heading to down this formidable dark hall opening by themselves. You marvel at his power under your breath.

“Well… it must have been fate that I visited your state when you tried to summon me a thousand or more times. I was irked beyond belief—”

“That was truly an accident on my part—”

“— and yet I was refreshed by your peculiar thinking. My council is forever old and fading, never changing their ways. I need new eyes for this project.”

With that, you pass the wide doorway and take in the chaotic surroundings. On the left side of the enormous space was a silver chained gate, intricate details curling and dying off in every direction. The barrier was wide open, bringing in hordes and hordes of people from everywhere and... nowhere it seemed. From where you could see, it revealed a black abyss where thousands and thousands were waiting in these slow lines.

Speaking of the lines, there were four of them, branching into the four corners of the hall, breaking out into smaller and even smaller ones. The ends of the lines reached individual desks where the next person in line came before…

“Underlings,” Lucifer fills in for you, bringing you closer for the both of you to listen in on an exchange, “They help me decide whether Hell is their true afterlife home, you see. I take on the big cases and step in when I need to. Cuts down on the slack so I grant them just a tiny slice of power from me.”

You nod in understanding, thinking that the hundred desks were set up like train station centers where you bought tickets. It was incredibly loud and busy, half of the sound in the room being taken by an incessant burr. You realize late that it comes from a printer-like machine, old and rusty which is placed beside each underling. With a flick of their arrow-shaped tail, the instrument shudders out a sheet of paper.

When you try to peek at what it says, Lucifer snaps his fingers quickly, stopping this one underling’s deadpan speech to the shivering human customer.

“Hand us a copy, will you Huening Kai?”

Bored and obviously tired, the young creature sighs, jerking his tail to hit a button on the side of the machine, spitting out another of the same paper. The Devil hands you the page and you gasp at the list of sins this person has committed.

“Have anything to say for yourself, man? You’ve been a really shitty person.” Huening Kai drones, tilting his chin down towards his chest with his feet propped up.

The human stutters, looking between the three of you, drawn to start pleading Satan. He just manages with an instinct to realize he was the bigger power here. Pityingly folding his body into a begging position, he rubs his hands together like he’s about to start a fire or something.

Before the man starts spewing nonsense, Kai and Satan make eye contact, and then the latter is pulling you away, despite your rapture in watching the interaction. It was like watching a car crash on the freeway; you’re unable to tear your gaze away from the terrible show.

You miss Lucifer’s chuckle from your again, deranged thoughts, placing a heated hand on your shoulder to guide your feet to the room’s right side. Another gate that looks exactly like the one on the left is intermingling with these deep, merlot-colored vines that twisted off into a wide, cave-like ravine. The gorge had a wide width, with steep sides encased in hundreds of worn-down stone stairs, carved from what looked like eons ago.

Those lines of people that you assumed were decidedly going down to Hell’s pit, were led down the rocky steps into a fiery chasm below. The Devil doesn’t let you get too close, scared you’ll fall or something along that sort, but you can just see a little of the hollow, all swirling red with specks of dark bodies reaching for help.

Your stomach turns at the sight, bile wanting to climb up at the echoing screams of so many voices traveling up to you. It was easier to hear by the open gate as those joining this never-ending line realized at the same time as you what awaited them.

You were being too careless about this whole situation. If this was what was awaiting you if you didn’t do your job right, you might just go genuinely insane. For real this time.

Looking up, you ask solemnly, “What do I have to do?”

The Devil takes in the rough swallow that goes down your throat and tries to squeeze at your shoulder comfortably. “You’re going to help me transform this place.”

“W-What— What do you mean by that?” Taking a quick scan around, you bewilderingly wonder what needs to be transformed.

Lucifer opens his wingspan, long arms waving to the chaos in this room. “This…” His booming deep voice draws your ears to listen closely, “... is inefficient. I’m getting news from above about how slow this process is. As you could tell earlier, the lines are getting too long and it’s getting old Father mad,”

His tone is spiteful as he continues. “It hardly seems like my fault that more sinners are joining me in Hell by the day— not a lack on my part but his— and now this whole shebang needs changing.”

“So… you want me to help you make Hell easier to enter?”

The heart-shaped grin you’re slowly beginning to see is signature to the Devil graces you once more.

“Right on, little human. Let’s begin.”

|—————|

“Do you think Seulgi is worried for me right now?” You ask another question and the Devil sighs loud at his desk.

You’re sat at your child one that he had playfully conjured to be in the corner of his office. Jokes on him because you didn’t end up complaining and settled in the tiny chair, comfortable as could be.

“Like I told you, time works differently down here. I think I now understand how she wished for you to be gone sometimes.”

Your gasp amuses him; you can tell by the smirk on Lucifer’s lips, even if he was looking down at his blueprint currently. “You’re lying. She wished for me to be dead?”

He looks up, rolling his eyes. “No, that’s not what I said. I said that she wished for you to be gone sometimes. That does not mean dead.”

“Well, now she’s dead to me.” You huff in a whisper, mouth pouting as you continued sketching your side of the blueprint as well.

Decidedly, you ignore the Devil’s rough chuckle, pressing extra ink with this feather pen in anger. That was a severe mistake because a blot of ink comes out strong and you swear loudly, making Satan jerk.

He tries to hide his scared reaction by tossing a tired expression your way. “What now, Y/N?”

Throwing the stupid writing utensil away, you begin your ramble, “You know, it’s a good thing you’re updating this place because it actually sucks—”

Lucifer throws up his eyebrows at that.

“— Like, your ink is trash. Why can’t you just update to pens? They work so much better and they have a variation of colors you can write in. Why use boring-ass black all the time? Add some spice for once. And for the list of sins you print out when making the final decision? That’s honestly so bad for the environment! Imagine how much paper you waste in one day. No, actually, in like… the whole time you’ve been running this place! Do you have an ecosystem here? Because you must be screwing it up severely with all this paper you waste for one-time use. Also—”

All that Lucifer can do is fondly listen to your daily ramble today, ignoring the multiple points you’ve mentioned before like clockwork. He knew that everything here was outdated but your jocular complaining of it was the highlight of his day.

The way you spoke and thought of the world reminded him of the elated feeling he got when he used to be able to fly. That sense of air, gliding in the baby blue skies; like bursting into a fluffy cloud and the rush of cold, wet drops of precipitation clinging to his skin after. It felt like him opening his eyes for the first time in forever to see how the Earth has not changed one bit. That beauty in the world just needs a new perspective. That was how Lucifer saw you.

More and more lately throughout the week and a half you’ve stayed with him, random spurts of your family and friends would pop up in your head. And Lucifer would selfishly try to banish and distract you from these thoughts out of his own loneliness. If he truly wanted you out of here, the both of you would have finished the second you added your two cents to the project. He was committed to dragging out your time though, wishing every second of your day would be with him.

It was foolish. He knew. The idea of the Devil falling for a puny human was a joke— sounded like it could only be a joke if Father cared to check in and see how his old fallen angel was doing. But Lucifer couldn’t help his feelings, despite his cold heart’s protest.

The nicknames of “girl” and “little human” were now “Y/N” and “darling”, interchanged after the other. His hands gravitated to innocently touch you for the smallest things now and his eyes always found their way back to your small figure, stubbornly sitting in the dumb child’s chair he made for you. Your laughter and smile were the bright lights in his immortal life now and joys from the pride he took in his job were sucked out of his own barely-there soul.

Whenever you encountered the true horrors of what he did every day, Lucifer would burn in shame at his acts. It had been a long time since he had felt regret in standing against Father and yet, all of that upheaval is brought back up with the looks of sadness and despair you have at the souls suffering from his hand. Lucifer suddenly felt wrong in his body, not feeling that desperate pull of pride in his all-godly powers now. And he knew deep down in his bones that if you were to leave him as well as his pride had gone, there would be nothing left of him.

“Lucifer?”

The call of his old name brings him out of his reverie. The labels of the names you call him have been ticking at his skin as well. It didn’t feel right, the way you believed the ire behind those titles. The furious wrath he had felt in which those names were created was stifled the more he was present in your company.

“Don’t call me that.”

The scrunching of the place between your brows appears from confusion. Expertly sensing a change in your recent companion’s mood, you drop still.

“But I’ve been calling you that for a while. You told me to—”

The Devil tightens his hold on the edge of his mahogany desk, head thrown down in hatred of the way you’re currently judging him. The way you will soon judge him for his sudden change in heart... at your realization of his wretched fondness of you.

“Forget what I said. Forget…” He finally manages to meet your gaze, which he was never afraid to meet before, “Forget everything I said.”

You shake your head, dumbfounded at Lucifer’s words. You didn’t know what he was on about. “I don’t understand what you’re—”

“I’m allowing you to leave. You can leave Hell. I’ll bring you back to Seulgi in your dorm myself.” His serious tone should have relief and happiness rushing through your veins. The opposite happens, confusion of your feelings flooding your head.

“I— wait. This is, this is all so sudden,” You stand up, and the last thing that Lucifer wanted you to do, you exactly did by approaching him, “What’s going on? Weren’t we just talking about the project a second ago?”

The scent of your lovely perfume floods Lucifer’s senses and he closes his eyes tightly to push down the want and desire to continue imprisoning you here.

“I’ve made up my mind. I— you just made me realize I don’t need you here anymore. You’ve helped more than you needed to.” Lucifer says, selfishly taking in the sight of you so close to him one last time.

“But—” You look back to your abandoned draft in the corner, “I didn’t finish.”

He dies to kiss away the pout on your lips but forces himself to hold back. Lucifer knew he was getting too attached; this had to stop now.

“It’s time you head back to your real home, girl.” The bringing of the old name stings and you don’t know why. It felt like all the hard work you had put in this past week and a half were all gone.

You should feel ecstatic you’re leaving this place. So why did a big part of you want to stay, despite everything?

It takes a while before you can gather words on your tongue and voice your agreement. Lucifer can read the thoughts in the head without trouble and his weak heart aches at the troubling questions brewing in your mind. Before you could realize what you felt for the Devil himself, he should cut you off. To spare himself the pain.

It would never work out anyway. He thinks.

“I uh... Okay, yeah. I— I’ll go back, yeah. I have a shit-ton lot of homework to catch up on.” You try to joke, sending a light smile Lucifer’s way.

At that, he goes around his desk to stand before you, gently grasping your hand which held his brand on your soft skin. The raised sigil is all healed now, with you unknowing of the healing he had placed on you soon after it was branded on. Rubbing at the skin with his thumb, the anchor that was keeping you here on his accord all but brushes away as he continues stroking at it. His warm touch eventually makes the whole symbol go away on your wrist and you gasp at the sight.

“You’re free from me,” Lucifer says, the underlying sadness beneath the uttered sentence pulling at your heartstrings.

“So… that’s it? I’m… I’m going back?” Making sure, you connect gazes again with Lucifer, confirming it as he nods.

“Yes but—”

The Devil was a selfish man, wasn’t he? He felt disgusted in his own body, asking you to do something you didn’t know the true power of doing but… Lucifer needed it. He needed to hear his real name leave your lips, just if this was the last time he ever saw you in the flesh.

“— Do me one last favor?”

You nod wordlessly.

“Say my real name?”

Your fast heartbeat races in your throat, choking out, “Your real name? Isn’t Lucifer—?”

“My angel name… please?”

Those ruby eyes you’ve grown to stop fearing and instead feel comforted by, turn to that candy red when looking at you.

“Say... Taehyung.”

Taehyung. That’s a pretty name.

Droplets of tears form at the corner of his wide eyes and he smiles into that charming heart watery at your unfiltered thought.

“Taehyung.”

And with that, in Hell’s Wednesday evening, you’re transported back into your dorm room with Seulgi still curled trembling on her bed, terrified to death. You realize belatedly that no time has passed at all here. Ignoring Seulgi’s scared figure, you blindly reach to sit down in your desk chair, head throbbing because of thoughts of who you had suddenly grown attached to in Hell.

The Devil’s real name was Taehyung.

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starglow-xx · 3 years

Note

Hi! How are you doing? Girlll, I love your work :3 congrats, you're a real star cuz' you light up my tumblr Haha. If requests still open, what about some ADA boys (surprise me hihi) reacting to a little sister dating?

ahh i love this! of course, of course! there’s no specific gender i implied for whoever their sister is dating so yeah :D

sorry for the long wait! bc of that, i wrote smth extra, but that won’t be published until a while later (it’s so fun to write i love it sm)

the ada boys when they find out their little sister is in a relationship

platonic! ada boys x little sister! reader

characters: dazai osamu, edogawa ranpo, kunikida doppo, miyazawa kenji, nakajima atsushi, tanizaki junichiro

for your age, it honestly depends on the character, so yeah

dazai osamu

he had his suspicions but wasn’t rlly able to investigate bc kunikida was watching him like a hawk

his abandoned stacks of paperwork was getting too high

kunikida promised whoever could find dazai the most would get treated

ranpo ratted him out every single goddamn time

but for his overall reaction, tbh, i think it might depend on how old you are

if you’re like 15-17 it’ll be obvious that he’s overprotective, but he knows he can’t really do anything to stop you

he acknowledges the fact that you’re growing up as a beautiful lady and want independence

but it doesn’t mean it won’t whine

“WHA-WHA Y-YOU’RE DATING?! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT WHEN YOU HAVE YOUR BIG BROTHER?!”

if you’re 18-21, i feel like he’d have a little bit more control (is that the right word for this?) and mind his own business

bc obviously, you’re an adult now, and all the actions you take are your responsibility now

but like i said earlier, it doesn’t mean he won’t whine

“do you have to be dating now?? you can always start when you’re 50″

but regardless of who you’re dating, he will unravel everything abt them to make sure you’re going to be safe and well taken care of

the two of you have gone through hell and back before coming to the ada

he will make sure you have your happy ending

if it means dating chuuya or akutagawa then so be it

he’ll gag and be the biggest shit about it but he’ll suck it up

eventually

edogawa ranpo

he already knew

there’s no way he didn’t know already

doesn’t mean he likes it though

he whines to fukuzawa abt it

yosano occasionally too

he won’t meddle in your relationship, but like dazai, he will also unearth every little thing abt whoever you’re dating

i feel like he’s a “i don’t like this, but i trust you, but i don’t trust them” type of person

he’d be more relaxed if you were dating someone he already knew/trusts

basically anyone in the ada + poe !!

but despite that, he won’t stick his nose into your business but will do so if needed

he’ll complain that you don’t pay attention to him as much anymore but he knows that there’s not much he can rlly do abt it

well, there are probably some things he can do, but since finding out abt this whole “dating” thing, fukuzawa and yosano have been keeping a close eye on him

so he settles for being whiney instead

“(y/nnnn) you’re not paying attention to me anymoree >:( “

“nii-san im literally making you a cake rn”

way deep down tho, he’s happy that there’s someone who can take care of you

“but they have to face me first got that (y/n)-chan?!”

just so you know, the person will fail ranpo’s test bc it’ll probably be smth ridiculous like “solve this mystery before me!” knowing that he will win

he’s a little shit like that

but still, he’s the greatest detective so ig he gets a pass

kunikida doppo

break it to him gently bc please you’re going to give him aneurysm

he knew deep down that at some point you were going to start dating but he definitely wasn’t prepared

he probably had a copy of his dating plan for you

yk the one episode where he says smth like “in 4 years i’ll find someone to date and in 6 we’ll marry” or whatever??

yeah that

he also has a page in his notebook for your ideal partner by his ideal standards

you found out bc dazai told you and well, it wasn’t pretty

dazai had a field day watching you scold him for it

kunikida was kneeling and looking at the ground and everything

he never looked more like a little kid than in that moment

dazai still has pictures that kunikida still hasn’t been able to get rid of

bold of him to assume that dazai already didn’t make a ridiculous amount of photocopies and backups

it pisses him off slightly bc you choose to ignore his ideals him but like i said for the last two boys, he knows he can’t really do anything abt it

as much as he doesn’t like it, at the end of the day, it’s your relationship and not his

nothing is going to benefit him by being a helicopter parent/sibling

and from what he’s heard, whoever your partner is, they’re making you happy and taking care of you so he can’t really complain

he keeps a close eye on you when he can tho

when you have a date, he makes katai keep him updated by using the signal in your phone to track you

so at the very least, he knows where you are even if he doesn’t know what you’re doing

yk what-

forget what i said abt him not being a helicopter paretn/sibling bc it doesn’t benefit him

your safety and well being is his #1 priority

miyazawa kenji

i made up a special scenario just for kenji and i think it’s rlly cute

kenji is still 14 and let’s say ur like 5ish

okok imagine yall are back home at ihatov and you guys are just in the village doing cute sibling things

kenji is helping one of the “onee-sans” in the village and ur nearby playing w/ one of ur friends

and then it happened

“nii-chan! nii-chan!! me and *insert name* are getting married!”

“oh that’s nice! when’s the wedding?”

he’ll indulge in your “game” bc he sees how genuinely excited you are and bc he sees that you’re literally radiating beams of light and sparkles

ig it runs in the family

at first he’s all happy, excited and supportive and whatnot but then at some point he’d be like

huh.

is this too young??

he wouldn’t be upset per say bc it rlly isn’t in his personality but i think he’d be a little confused bc “wow i feel like we’ve missed a lot of steps”

but nonetheless

he’d be very supportive and will probably be your flower girl, ring bearer, pastor, everything; basically anything you ask

nakajima atsushi

supportive #1 brother fight me

he won’t be mad that you’re dating, but instead elated that you found someone that can make you so happy

happy in a way he could never

but he’s shocked and lowkey hurt you didn’t say anything to him at first but understands it ig..??

bc he knows you need space and all that but like “(y/n) why didn’t you say anything T^T “

he still loves you tho

but he’s also still worried abt you

he trusts you to make good decisions and that you’ll take care of yourself but he can’t help it

it’s the big brother instincts yk?

he’s also kinda sad bc, it’s a sign that you rlly are growing up and probably won’t need him anymore (which is complete nonsense)

he wants you to at least tell him a little bit abt them or even meet them briefly

he wants to have some sort of analysis of what they’re like so that he can stop worrying, even if it’s just a little bit

when atsushi does meet them, he’s not gonna be like those scary intimidating older brothers but he’ll act like how he usually does

bc if they’re sticking around, they’ll have to like him or at the very least, tolerate him

he’s kinda insecure that they won’t like him ://

he wants them to tho! they’re a important part of your life so he wants to have a good impressions

jeez it’s like he’s the bf and not the other way around (ಠ_ಠ)

like ranpo, he probably wouldn’t stick his nose into your business unless necessary but dazai would somehow rope him into stalking watching your dates at a distance

absolutely horrible at being discreet

partly dazai’s fault tho

he always ends up giving atsushi a heart attack bc he’d get way too close to where you were

one time bc he panicked, the only solution he could come up with to hide is by tackling him into a rose bush

when you walk into the ada the next day and see dazai’s face covered in cutesy band aids (kudos to kyouka & kenji) and ask him what the heck happened to him, he answered “stray cat”

atsushi let him get beat by kunikida a little longer than usual that day

tanizaki junichiro

PLEASE YOU DIDN’T EVEN TELL HIM

idk why you would tho (ಠ_ಠ)

if you did s/o might go bye bye

im kidding

for the most part

he may not have known at first, but naomi definitely knew

you had to bribe her with weekly sweets to keep the secret

junichiro definitely caught onto the fact that the youngest of their trio was treating the older two quite often but didn’t think too much of it

naomi can be so mean tho T^T

gets you to do nearly everything if she so much smirks your way

you just know her all too well

he found out bc he came home early from a mission once and found yall making out in the kitchen

he was ready to cut a bitch

nearly did

but you and naomi (who got home in the middle of the chaos) were able to stop him

obviously he was rlly upset abt everything but i headcanon that after being like upset/angry he’d be kinda mopey

kinda like tamaki from ohshc if you know what i mean

he might even spill some crocodile tears

if he’s feeling that bad then he might even go emo mode and sulk in his seat or in a corner

after he gets over it, like kunikida, he’s watchful over you

drags atsushi with him to stalk all of your dates

im not even going to cross it out, it is what it is; stalking

atsushi is always exhausted after these sorts of things so tanizaki buys him chazuke as a “im sorry for dragging you along but you already know that you’re coming with me next time” treat

also one of the ones who tries to unearth every little thing and is the “i don’t like this, but i trust you, but i don’t trust them” type

remember how i said in atsushi’s thing that he won’t go into scary intimidating older brother mode? junichiro is the exact opposite

he does it both discreetly and indiscreetly

yk, being intimidating when you aren’t looking or he’s smiling but yall know there’s a hidden meaning in it

but like atsushi, he wants to meet them to have a...little chat

ITS SO QUIET

it’s even more terrifying bc a) scary big brother b) said big brother is an operative of the armed detective agency and c) being said operative means he knows how to kill you and have no problem hiding your body

please if i was the one there i might piss my pants

it takes him a while to adjust to this...new circumstance but if you’re happy then he can’t rlly complain

you’re happiness and safety (along with naomi’s) is his top priority so if this person is giving you that happiness and willing to doing anything protect you then he doesn’t rlly have any other choice but to accept it

eventually, whoever you’re dating might grow on him but that’ll take some time

naomi is like your brother bc she can be a bit overprotective (not as extreme tho) but she she still likes your s/o

she likes that whole “watching young love blossom” cliche sort of thing if you know what i mean

but she will cut them if they hurt you

conclusion

overall, the boys, as expected all have their own reactions to their precious younger sister having their own relationship, but in the end, as long as you’re happy, safe, and protected, they will be supportive and trust your decisions.

BUT

they are all the “hurt her, i hurt you” type so just warn your s/o ahead of time ☺️☺️

as always, reblogs and shares are appreciated! i hope you all stay safe! and just in case nobody told you they loved you today, i love you! you are enough! <3

writing belongs to me! please do not plagiarize, repost, or translate on here or any other sites!

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1kook · 4 years

Text

A COLLECTION [ updated: 8 . 23 . 21 ]

—NETFLIX & CHILL.

summary If you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality. warnings smut in the forms of grinding, oral (f), cum eating, vanilla unprotected sex, dirty talk misc use of the oldest trick in the book (“your hands are sooo big”), shy oblivious AND gentleman jk? pick a struggle, brief ment of app developer kook, evil and conniving oc word count 10.2k posted june 12, 2020

—HULU & WOOHOO.

summary But there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Jersey Shore boner. warnings slight feelings of insecurity, smut in the forms of fingering, cunnilingus, cum eating, squirting, hand jobs, unprotected sex, riding, slight praise kink misc if you’re not a Jersey shore fan honestly GET OUT, mentions of capitalism😡, more kind/understanding kook, basically a “what are we?” fic but silly, irresponsible emailing habits, its so dumb just read word count 6.3k posted july 4, 2020

—IMAX & CLIMAX.

summary The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings smut in the form of blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl (? kinda), daddy kink that morphs into ily kink misc jk is an avid history channel viewer, jk hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, jk goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count 9.8k posted august 5, 2020

—KISSANIME & FOREPLAY.

summary You get a glimpse of the KissAnime screen for a good two seconds before about seven ads pop up. Another tab to a raunchy hentai website opens, and Jungkook groans. warnings mentions of hentai, smut in the forms of cunnilingus, masturbation (f), oral (f), use of a sex toy, fingering, nipple play, face sitting/fucking/riding idk (f), praise kink, hints of dumbification, cum eating, jk is like passive aggressive in this one, 4 (f) orgasms, this is the kicker: sub kook at the end😳, like 2 sec of dom yn lol, & u get 0.002 sec of adams apple kink misc more dumb story lines, made up sex stores bc my creativity knows no bounds, Jungkook plays nice but is actually mean for the majority of it, once again doyeon plays a pivotal role in the furthering of women empowerment, internal love monologues about jk best boy<3 word count 8.2k posted september 1, 2020

—DISNEY+ & BUST.

summary There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb. It’s not. It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door. warnings arguments, feelings of insecurity, bit of asshole jk, smut in the forms of humiliation, dumbification, choking, fingering, spit kink, self punishment (? idk lol), unprotected but [ passionate ] sex, jk losing his cool, the return of mean jk, desperate jk, he is actually an emotional mess in this one wtf misc angst, anniversaries, the L word😳, app developer kook, rip ‘pretty girl’ </3, we all become phineas and ferb stans word count 13k posted september 9, 2020

—ESPN & BDSM.

summary You would like to personally thank every loud-mouthed, ESPN commentator out there for saving you from Jungkook’s dangerous seduction skills. warnings smut in the forms of brief femdom, handcuffs, nipple clamps, blindfolding, flogging/use of a riding crop, soft dom kook, cunnilingus, spitting, unprotected but passionate, degradation, as always it starts horny n then turns into I love u kink misc kook has a swollen ankle so idk how he did all this, jk abuses the fuck outta pet names part 7, revenge gone wrong tbh, this was honestly a beginner’s intro to vanilla bdsm word count 12.7k posted september 14, 2020

—YOUTUBE & USE LUBE.

summary You can’t believe this is Jungkook’s preferred sick day treatment; YouTube, cuddles, and an ugly amount of lube. warnings smut in the forms of nipple play, handjobs, spit kink, face riding, unprotected, flavored warming lube, riding, praise kink, soft femdom, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, tit sucking, tit fucking, more jk has an impreg kink, oh and this is all subby kook misc domesticity baby!! fluff, soft scenes /.\, jk is sick:((, doyeon is A Doctor, yn sees an opportunity and she grabs it, surprise ending <3 word count 8.7k posted september 30, 2020

—VIKI & HICKEYS.

summary Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air. warnings a little hurt + a lot of comfort, mentions of cheating!villain!jin, insecure!kook, emotional breakdowns, mentions of jk’s lonely past, jk cries :( smut in the forms of making out, eating out, fingering, clit play, hickeys, jk likes cum, double orgasm, squirting, tiny praise kink, blindfolding, rough + unprotected sex, doggy style, choking!!!, breeding/impreg kink, JEALOUS KOOK, mini hand kink, a lil bit of spanking, degradation, he gets progressively meaner lol oc cries, jk is a good boy n I want him to be happy misc there’s a lot of fuckin plot omfg -_-, it’s Valentine’s Eve!, doyeon makes Some Points, mentions of park seojoon juicy ass, they go on a d8 😳, oc like rlly wants to marry him, oc commits double phone homicide word count 16.3k posted january 14, 2021

—PEACOCK & SWEET TALK.

summary “I wanna watch Solange in Bring It On,” Jungkook smiles, and you have to wonder who exactly this blond man is and what he did with your teen-movie-hating boyfriend. warnings smut in the forms of kissing, cunnilingus (eating out + fingering), light praise, a lil body worship, jk fat cawk, brief nipple play, playful jk, unprotected sex, riding and missionary, the jk hand kink, I love you kink, jk wants nudes, jk’s cheerleader fantasies mentioned, spit kink, light choking, jk has like a scent kink (?), mention of collars and pet play misc app developer jk becomes even MORE app developer-y, oc is anti-google, there's plot, a 2 year anniversary, Solange knowles appreciation, BLOND JK!!!, gets sappy for a sec, seahorse marriage mention, doyeon x joon side pairing, jk is disgustingly dreamy and oc is threatened by that fact word count 10.7k posted march 23, 2021

— CRUNCHYROLL & RAIL.

summary Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. warnings smut in the forms of making out, jk nipple play, some 69 action, cunnilingus, blowjobs, brief choking, jk trying his best to listen to oc but he doesn’t rlly :/, fingering, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, unprotected fuckin raw, its romantic but when is it not… misc fluffy and domestic <3, weekend getaway <3, the Big Question, shy jk, sailor moon supremacy, jk makes this big elaborate speech about the sun and moon, mentions of 240p YouTube quality word count 8.7k posted may 21, 2021

—FUNIMATION & PROCREATION.

summary Never mind your upcoming wedding, this was perhaps the greatest moment of your life— the day Jungkook sought out an anime on his own. warnings kissing, smut in the forms of cunnilingus, cum eating, mentions of anal, doggy style, unprotected sex with the intention of pregnancy, spitting, hand holding<3 misc the wedding night, Doyeon strikes again, jjk watches jjk, oh no not twins word count 9.1k posted july 31, 2021

—BOOMERANG AND BANG.

coming soon

—COOKIES & CREAM.

summary Jungkook will watch a thousand cheesy Christmas movies if it meant making you happy. (And maybe having his dick sucked.) warnings smut in the form of blowjobs, face fucking, cum facials, fingering, overstim, double orgasm, r*mantic sex, riding, unprotected, cream pies, jk does this weird thing where he licks her face yeah idk, jk loves seeing his gf cry, jk has an obsession with jizz misc jk pov !!, eggnog slander, jk hates xmas movies, oc dresses like a sexy mrs claus, Elf !!, jk is in loooove word count 7.1k posted december 23, 2020

— TUTUS & TIARAS.

summary your first pregnancy through the lens of your husband warnings smut in the forms of penetrative sex, sex while pregnant, unprotected sex, tit play, cunnilingus, mutual masturbation, sticking the tip in and jacking off/cockwarming?, creampies, nose kink (? like she grinds against his nose), infatuation with scent, frottage/grinding, lactation kink, titluvr jk [bass boosted] misc married ncouple <3, domesticity, jk pov, mood swings, pregnancy, GIRLDAD!JK, DILF!JK, pregnant!reader, jk’s kids are virgos its true word count 10k posted august 23, 2021

— one.

summary Maybe Jungkook wasn’t always as cool and composed as you initially believed. But that’s okay, because you love him all the same. word count 1.3k posted September 10, 2020

—two.

summary Even after all these years, all these doubts, and all this solitude that was really no one’s fault but his own, he still finds himself hoping that maybe you’ll be the one. word count 1k posted september 11, 2020

—three.

summary But Jungkook loves the sun. word count 1.5k posted september 12th, 2020

—four.

summary For the last ten minutes or so his mind has been bothered by one thing and one thing only— the hair that hung in his face. word count 800 words posted september 22, 2020

—five.

summary Startled and inexperienced, he can’t do anything but rub his hands over your back. “It’s fine, it’s fine,” he murmurs, even though it’s not. word count 1.3k posted september 22, 2020

—six.

SUMMARY Jungkook enjoyed pushing you down, indulging you in all your little fantasies, but he too had some he wanted to live out. WC 1.8k POSTED september 25, 2020

—seven.

summary And lastly, Jungkook will bring it full circle by indulging you two in some good old fashion spooky sex where he nuts inside you because the only thing scarier than a scary movie is a pregnancy scare. It’s a perfect plan. word count 2k posted october 30, 2020

—eight.

summary You always do this— always ask for more. You take and you take until there’s nothing left for Jungkook to give. But Jungkook is the same. word count 1.9k posted december 28, 2020

—nine.

summary “I think that, like— me and you? We’re like, totally destined,” you ramble, “you should, like, take my number! And maybe we can, like— Netflix and chill one of these days?” word count 2.2k posted january 8 2021

—ten.

summary See, there’s no one in this world who ignores his house rules more than you. Even worse, there’s no one on this planet who can make Jungkook ignore his own rules like you do. word count 1.4k posted february 14, 2021

—eleven.

summary You’re too bright, too… there. His shell is too small. word count 1.2k posted may 3, 2021

—twelve.

summary Anyway, if it was up to Jungkook, Kim Doyeon would not be a member of the Engagement Ring Committee. word count 1.4k posted may 8th, 2021

—thirteen.

summary Because for as much shit as you let him get away with, Jungkook is certain you’ll draw the line today. word count 1k posted june 13, 2021

—fourteen.

summary Jungkook needs you to know that you can always count on him. word count 1.3k posted july 6, 2021

—fifteen.

summary It’s Jungkook’s teenage fantasy— being pushed down by a cheerleader. word count 3.1k posted august 9, 2021

— sixteen.

summary Your skin is warm and smells like sunshine. Jungkook can’t really explain it. (And also like the sunscreen you had doused him in earlier, but that isn’t as romantic.) word count 1.9K posted august 11, 2021

—seventeen.

summary She looks his way and suddenly Jungkook is nineteen again, in his dorm, listening to the first person he ever thought he loved telling him he’s too much to handle. word count 1.6k posted august 18, 2021

beautiful banners made for series!

cute and cozy gif by the lovely @ladyartemesia

LASTLY:

#jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fic #ncml #mine

7K notes · View notes

ynscrazylife · 3 years

Note

Loki request (spoilers)

Reader is a variant who got captured by the tva, they're sent to trial and Loki saves them from getting killed bc he still owed them a favour. Morbius gets confused bc those two dangerous variants know each other, turns out they were best friends in their original time line. Now Morbius has to babysit two sarcastic assholes. Double trouble ensures.

Double Trouble | l.l fluff fic

Summary: The request.

Authors Note: I fully acknowledge and support Loki being genderfluid. In this fic, I will be using he/him pronouns for Loki since those were the pronouns they’ve used for Loki in the show so far, indicating that at the time this fic is set, Loki’s genderfluid identity is of a man. Should those pronouns/identity change, so will the pronouns for my fics. I do not intend to be harmful in any way so if this is harmful to the genderfluid community, PLEASE let me know!

Request to be on a Taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

MCU Masterlist #1 | MCU Masterlist #2 | Main Masterlist

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

header c @dearcardan on twitter

Yeah, Loki was definitely not taking any of this seriously. At this point, he theorized that the Avengers were laughing their asses off on this elaborate prank they were playing on him, and he decided to just wait it out. It had to stop at some point, right? There was no way that this “TVA” bullshit was actually, in any way, real.

At least . . . He believed that until he saw a familiar face.

Mobius had just saved him from being reset to the original timeline and they were walking out of the courtroom just as the doors opened and two TVA agents were walking another “criminal” in. Loki still wasn't buying this elaborate scheme so he didn’t really pay this new person much attention, until he heard the judge speak.

“Miss Y/N Y/L/N - am I correct?”

Loki froze, eyes traveling to the “criminal” passing him. He first thought that Thor had set this part of the prank up, but he knew his brother didn’t really understand how mischief really worked. Plus, Loki could tell Y/N wasn’t an illusion.

. . . So that meant she was actually here.

“Hey, wait, can I see this trial?” Loki whispered to Mobius, who glanced back at the judge and raised his eyebrows skeptically at the brunette deity. Loki added, “I just want to see a little more of how this place works, okay?”

Mobius was sure Loki was onto something and after a couple moments of thought, he agreed. At least this would give him a chance to get to know this troublemaker better, and they both shuffled into seats.

“You are correct, madame,” Y/N answered mockingly, a big grin on her face as she walked up to the podium. She then looked around in an exaggerated manner. “Well, do I get a lawyer or what?”

Loki smirked and the judge scoffed. “How do you plead?” The judge asked, dismissing her questions.

“What ‘crimes’ have I supposedly committed?”

“You have been accused of creating an alternate timeline that does not fit into the main continuum. You snuck into Odin’s vault using your Asgardian abilities and when you used the fake Infinity Gauntlet and, in your attempt to enchant the Gauntlet to work like the actual one, you accidentally travelled forward in time and created a new timeline,” the judge summarized.

Loki smiled, amused and proud. He only wondered what led her to this.

“In my defense, I heard that my friend was in trouble and wanted to help out,” Y/N said with a shrug.

“Well, the enchantments were not supposed fully work. They were meant to just backfire on you and knock you unconscious, where you’d be imprisoned in the dungeon. But then you tried to use another powerful object in Odin’s vault which created a Nexus event, messed with your enchantment on the fake Power and Time stone, and here you are,” the judge explained.

“If I wasn’t meant to do this - why didn’t these ‘Time Keepers’ control my actions and make me do something else?” Y/N asked, changing the subject.

“I am not going to entertain you any further. In your previous statement, quote: ‘In my defense, I heard that my friend was in trouble and wanted to help out’ You have admitted your guilt and will now be reset,” the judge declared sternly.

Immediately, two TVA agents grabbed Y/N harshly and began to drag her away from the podium. Loki, who at this point had connected the dots that he was the friend she had been trying to help, knew he owed her one. He couldn’t just let her be reset and then be imprisoned. So, thinking rather quickly, he leapt up from his seat and shouted, “No!”

All heads turned to him. Y/N’s eyes went wide, not having spotted him, and Mobius was beginning to regret his decision. Loki turned to Mobius. “You need me to help you with this ‘sacred timeline’ stuff. I’ll only do it if Y/N stays,” he said, panting.

Mobius caught an angry look from the judge but his gaze settled on Y/N. After a couple moments, he sighed and relented. “Fine.”

Y/N and Loki cheered and she broke out of the agents’ grips, running to Loki who picked her up and hugged her. “That’s my girl,” Loki said, proud of her for her prank.

Mobius internally groaned. This was going to be a long day.

———————————

“So how do you know each other?” Mobius asked as he walked in-between the Asgardians, leading them to his office.

“Y/N’s been my best friend, partner in time, ever since I was little,” Loki said, grinning.

“Got it,” Mobius said, frowning. He could only imagine the mischief they had conjured.

———————————

After reviewing both of their files, Mobius had to step out for a second, leaving Loki and Y/N alone. “Let’s try to break out,” was the first thing to leave Loki’s lips.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “And suppose we do, how the hell are you gonna get the Tesseract back? Plus, I won’t wanna be imprisoned on Asgard,” she reasoned, quickly shutting the idea down.

Loki huffed. He was bored. He wanted to do something.

And he had something to do when Y/N stood up and started walking around. With a smirk, he grabbed the remote controlling Y/N’s collar and clicked it, immediately sending her back to her seat.

She turned and glared at him, and he just smirked, innocently shrugging. “I wanna have fun,” he said.

Y/N rolled her eyes and cautiously stood up again. When nothing happened, she walked around a bit more, and Loki let her . . . Until he got bored again. With another click, she reappeared on the other side of the room, in mid-walk.

Before she could protest, Loki did it again. And again. And again. He finally stopped when she got out the words, “CUT IT OUT!” and laughed to himself.

“You asshole,” Y/N grunted, beginning to walk towards him, but skidded back when Loki clicked the button just one more time.

“Oops. My finger slipped,” Loki smirked.

Y/N glared, but being reset made her lose her footing, and she tumbled to the floor, causing her best friend to cackle. Annoyed, she ran at him and managed to push him off his chair, tackling him to the floor. They rolled around, neither one gaining the upper hand for too long, until Mobius re-entered, saw the chaos, pulled Loki to his feet, and grabbed the remote, resetting Y/N so she was back in her chair.

“Hey!” Loki exclaimed, pushing Mobius off him. “No one controls my best friend!”

Y/N couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not, but smiled nonetheless. Mobius glared and grabbed Loki’s remote, resetting him so he was back in his chair. He then turned to them both.

“I’m beginning to agree with my colleagues that this-” he gestured to Loki and Y/N, “-was a bad idea.”

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305 notes · View notes

stutterfly · 4 years

Text

Failure to Communicate

This was a joint collab fic that @gukslut and I worked on, commissioned by @cypherft-v as part of our fundraising for Black Lives Matter. Thank you for contributing! Banner & moodboard by me :)

{Pairing} Park Jimin/ Reader

{Genre} Enemies to Lovers/ College AU/ comedy/ smut

{Rating} Mature - Explicit

{Word Count} 21K

{Warnings} oral, kissing, fingering, protected sex, biting, marking, other filthy shit

{Summary} You've always had a crush on Park Jimin, but the truth is that you're just one of many. He just so happens to be the TA for one of your classes, and you're determined to make your feelings known. Whether or not he takes you seriously remains to be seen.

{Prompt} Could either of you write an enemies to lover story about jimin and y/n set in college where he was her TA and got her kicked out of her major bc he didnt give her the grade she needed and was generally unhelpful? Posted on tumblr on August 17, 2020 by stutterfly and cross-posted to Ao3. I do not allow reposting, translations, or edits, to any platform, including YouTube.

Ten more minutes. You can barely see the clock from your seat against the wall. The lecture hall isn't crowded by any means; to the contrary, this Tuesday/Thursday psych class is usually pretty empty. You could have just as easily sat in the middle, but it doesn't afford you the same view. Well, it does. But not the one you prefer. It's just that positioned front and center, your staring would look more obvious. At least that's what you're telling yourself. If you stare from the corner it's less conspicuous, which is important because you do a lot of staring in this class. Park Jimin is the TA.

The man in question sits off to the side at a table of his own, typing away on his laptop. This reminds you that you haven’t been doing much other than quietly ogling from a distance. The only notes you're taking are lackluster doodles of his appearance and the occasional squiggle of your pen at the quiet sighs he lets out when he stretches his back after sitting hunched over his laptop for too long.

Jimin is absolutely breathtaking — even in an ugly plaid three-piece suit and perfectly round spectacles that would look horrid on any normal person. You're definitely not the only one who has noticed. His beautiful features and fantastic bone structure forge a man who is borderline ethereal. With soft eyes, big pouty lips, a flawless complexion, and a flirtatious demeanor he has enraptured many over the years. He's popular... like, really popular.

You begrudgingly count yourself among those love-smitten numbers. You know it’s hopeless and illogical. He could have any person he so desired at any point in time. Why would he ever choose someone like you? If you’d been paying any sort of attention to the subject matter of this class you might know that things like feelings and life’s rhetorical questions often don’t make sense.

But you’re shit at psychology. You’re more of a blunt poet at heart, and that heart is often hidden behind twisted brambles of anxiety and sharp thorns of insecurity.

You are but a speck of dirt upon his round glasses. It’s been a hopeless, silent crush for some time, but now that he’s assisting the professor in this core requirement for your academic studies, he has to acknowledge your presence. You’re a speck he has to look at before swiping you out of sight with a wave of his hand.

He's the object of just about everyone's affections, and rightfully so. He's not just gorgeous, he's charismatic, charming, and such a smooth talker. The word on campus says those pretty lips of his can do a lot of other really wonderful things too. You've been watching him chew on them for the past five minutes straight, wondering how many times his deliciously pink tongue can sweep over them before he makes them chapped.

Maybe they're chapped already. Maybe you should offer him your chapstick? Or maybe you should never talk to him at all, because you don't stand a chance. Park Jimin would chew you up and leave you bleeding out with a broken heart, and you know it. That doesn't stop you from imagining all the ways he could take you in his mouth first. You could watch those pretty lips all day long, but you’ll settle for an hour on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Looking up as if he's been paying attention all along, Jimin attempts to figure out where the professor is in the lesson. It’s obvious that he wasn't listening at all and was instead answering messages. It would be nice if he could say they were messages for class, but that's not true and Jimin is a lot of things, but he isn't a liar. He's been talking to Chungha, his current flavor of the week.

He turns toward the students as the professor dismisses the class and there you are, eager and awestruck. It takes every ounce of self control Jimin has not to roll his eyes. Another fan, he presumes. You can't handle him, but he can tell by the embarrassed way you tear your eyes from him to look anywhere else that it hasn't stopped you from thinking about it.

Trying to seem nonchalant now is a lost cause. Jimin has no shame and although you busied yourself by packing up your neglected textbooks and darting your gaze to various points in the room for a straight minute, Jimin is still staring at you when you look back at him. He smirks when your eyes meet. It's not a flirty kind of smirk, you sadly note. It's condescending in your eyes, which further solidifies your theory: Jimin is too much for you no matter how badly you want a taste of him.

"Did you take notes?" he asks, nodding toward your backpack where you've just tucked your computer and sketched up notebook.

"I- uhh..." You panic.

"You know that was all about the exam next week. You're gonna need those notes if you want to have any hope of passing it," he tells you, shoving his own computer into his bag.

"I was just.. um, I was--" you attempt to explain.

"Busy staring at me?" He smiles and you know he knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s teasing oh gyou.

You balk at the blatant accusation and force a half-laugh, half-scoff from your throat. “No.”

"Yes," he corrects with a light and mellifluous laugh. "Is there pen on my face or were you hoping you could be?"

"What?" you choke, eyes watering at the idea.

Jimin shakes his head, laughing softly to himself as he remembers his surroundings. With a small clear of his throat and the subtle adjusting of his tie, he provides a suggestion for you. “Get them from Taehyung.”

"Get what?" you ask, drawing a blank on what this conversation was even about. It's the first time you've ever actually talked to him outside of your dreams and it’s proving to be a lot harder than you thought it would be.

"The notes, Y/N. Get the notes from Taehyung, you know, the ones that you didn't take today because you were daydreaming about my mouth," he tells you, heading for the door.

Taehyung, who is the only other person left in the room wiggles his fingers at you in a wave. When you turn back, Jimin is gone.

"Need the notes?" Taehyung asks, voice free of judgement.

"Please," you sigh, relieved that he'd waited.

He spins his laptop toward you, where an email is already open with the notes attachment added. "Drop your address in there," he says standing up.

"Thank you so much," you say, frantically typing your student email into the space.

"Hey, y/n?" Taehyung asks, the bristles of curiosity or concern painting his tone with a soft comfort.

"Yeah?"

"Jimin is a fool," he tells you.

"What?"

"If you were looking at me like that, I'd at least ask for your number." Tae offers a combination of large hopeful eyes and a giant goofy grin as he holds his phone out for you.

Giggling, you take it from his hand and add your number to his contacts list. He purses his lips to hide his excitement as he takes his phone back. He slides it into his pocket before hastily packing the rest of his things into his leather messenger bag.

"Thanks, Taehyung," you say, waving on your way out the door.

"Wait!" he shouts after you, half of the contents of his bag threatening to spill onto the floor as he scrambles away from the table. He adjusts his belongings and clears his throat, instantly adopting a smooth persona. "Where are you going? I'll walk you."

"My car?"

"Wanna come eat with me?" he wonders. He's confident, but it's not the same kind of arrogant confidence that Jimin oozes. He's softer. He feels more real, more attainable. He obviously knows he's a catch and he’s definitely expressed the same about you. What could be the harm in letting an attractive man stroke your ego a little bit? If you’re being honest with yourself, you can use the boost after such a pathetic display towards your crush.

"Oh, uh... yeah. I guess so," you agree, letting him lead the way out the door.

"Cool." Tae takes his glasses off and hooks them in his shirt. Pulling a snapback from his bag, he pushes his hair back and puts it on before he swings his messenger bag over his shoulder. Damn. Why did that raise his hotness like ten whole levels?

"You like hamburgers?"

『•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••✎•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••』

Taehyung slips into the seat next to you on Thursday, brushing against you very deliberately as he passes.

"Hello, sugar," he says, licking his lips as he spares a fleeting glance down at your chest.

"Hey, Tae," you greet him while your eyes are still locked on Jimin.

"Still on Jimin, huh?" he asks. He doesn't sound particularly disappointed, or surprised for that matter. He's just stating a fact. You're relieved he's not offended. Letting him eat you out in his backseat after dinner was probably not your best decision, although it seems like it meant about as much to him as it did to you.

"I don't know," you say with a shrug.

"It's okay. I can't blame you. I could put in a good word for you if you want. We're close," he informs you, sitting back and spreading his legs wide under the desk.

Sighing, you rest your cheek in your palm. "I've got a plan," you confess.

"Oh yeah?" he chuckles. He playfully knocks his knee against yours as if to signal for you to spill. "Do tell."

"I think I need a little extra help with this material," you tell Taehyung.

"Good luck, Y/n. I hope he can squeeze you into his busy schedule, but hey, if he can't, I'm totally down to squeeze into yours anytime."

Looking at Tae out of the corner of your eye, you smile at the grin he wears and start to laugh at the way he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

"I'll keep that in mind," you joke.

"Please do."

The minutes drag on as you wait for this class to end. Doing your best to seem a little less obsessive this time, you make a point to take notes and look at the teacher more than the TA. Jimin still catches you staring at least three times. It's embarrassing, but not enough to stop you from approaching him as the room empties out.

"Hi, y/n," Jimin sings, giving you a knowing smile.

"Hi." You tuck your hair behind your ear, and smile back.

"Do you need something?" he wonders, purposefully combing his fingers through his silver hair.

Damn, do you ever.

"I was wondering if you had time to help me. I'm struggling with this material and I could really use some one-on-one guidance." Leaning over his desk you make sure he has a good view right down your shirt, not that his eyes wander from yours. While he shows restraint in his gaze you swear he briefly drags his bottom lip through his teeth before he catches himself.

"One-on-one, huh?" He sticks his tongue in his cheek, looking amused. "I bet Taehyung would give you some one-on-one guidance."

You're sure that's true, but it's not Taehyung you're after. Taehyung isn’t the TA. Taehyung isn’t getting paid to help teach a course. Of course you want to say that and in your head you rehearse the words but you can’t seem to find a way to phrase them eloquently enough. Why do you always get stupid brain around him? Your plan is quickly falling apart.

Jimin waits for your response with his eyebrows raised. You know he's two seconds away from leaving you gaping at him and walking out the door, so you do something incredibly rash and stupid.

"I like you," you blurt out.

Jimin smiles. He knows that, obviously. He also knows damn well that you're perfectly capable of looking back at your notes by yourself. You're definitely smart and dedicated enough to study on your own. He can't help teasing you anyway.

"Everyone likes me," he casually informs you as he plants his palms on the desk and leans on them.

He peeks over the edge of his glasses as he looks up at you, like some kind of otherworldly sexy librarian. If deities ever needed a librarian, Jimin wouldn’t even need a resume. His charm and seduction are so strong that you almost miss his rejection. Almost. You're stunned into silence when it hits you. Just as you're about to tuck and run, he smiles again.

"But,” he pauses to click his tongue thoughtfully, “I think I have some time on Saturday. I'll give you my number.” He rips a corner of paper out of his notebook. "Is it okay if I come to your place? Do you have a dorm or…”

"Oh. My apartment’s fine!" you flounder, trying to remember how to speak coherent sentences. Jimin. In your room. How many dreams have you had about this moment? "I mean, yeah, sure. You'll come to mine, yeah."

Jimin giggles and it sounds like pealing bells. You're lost in the beautiful sound of it until you realize that he's laughing at you. "You okay with that? We could meet somewhere else instead."

"I wouldn't mind you in my room," you sigh. Open mouth; insert foot.

He raises an eyebrow, giving you a chance to backtrack, but you're both well aware you meant every word of that.

"Okay, y/n. See you Saturday then. Call me."

"I’ll call you," you repeat, resisting the urge to slap your palm over your face. You sound like an idiot. Stupid brain strikes again.

Jimin barely notices, all too used to girls falling over themselves to get his attention. You’re no different to him, just another pretty face in a sea of women entranced by the way he walks, talks, and breathes. It’s not his fault he’s so damn pretty. He does note that you’re brave, however. Not many people come on to him so brazenly, and that’s something worth rewarding. Besides, he feels a sort of obligation to help you out. He is getting paid to help out the professor, after all.

He winks at you as he leaves, taking your breath and your sanity with him. You have Park Jimin’s phone number. Park Jimin is going to be in your apartment in two days. Maybe you didn’t bomb that as hard as you thought.

A slow clap beckons you to look back for the source and you find Taehyung looking back at you with his boxy grin. When he’s sure he’s got your attention he raises his two thumbs up in approval.

Jimin is not surprised when Chungha disappears into the clusterfuck of bodies as soon as they step into the party. They may have come here together, but their fling is on its last leg and they both know it. She wants him off her couch, doesn't appreciate the feeling of tied-down-ness that comes with your friend with benefits staying over all the time. She's ready to move on, that means he has to as well.

Jimin isn't even sure whose house this is, but he’s happy to tag along for free booze and maybe a new face to go home with. Luckily, his friends are never far, and he finds them easily. Getting absolutely hammered in the backyard makes them hard to miss. Jungkook is the only one looking particularly bored as a very drunk Taehyung hangs all over him talking about the sweetest thing he ever tasted.

"Why so glum?" Jimin asks, nudging Jungkook's shoulder with his own.

"I'm the designated driver tonight," Jungkook sighs, pushing Taehyung off of him.

Taehyung slumps to the ground, immediately entranced by the stars above him. Jungkook kicks at him gently.

"Where's your girlfriend? I haven't seen you without your tongue down her throat all week," Jungkook wonders, looking behind Jimin for the woman in question.

"Girlfriend," Jimin repeats with a snort. "Hilarious. That's not a thing. She's probably looking for her next kill."

Jungkook regards Jimin thoughtfully, his eyebrows scrunching toward each other. "If you take over DD you can have the futon."

Jungkook loves his futon. It's one of his most prized possessions. He keeps it very clean and being allowed to get anywhere near it is a privilege. Jimin is pretty sure he goes over it with a lint roller as part of his nighttime routine. It's also incredibly comfortable.

Jimin releases a breath in a tortured groan as he thinks over his options. He could get black out drunk and wake up god knows where with a terrible hangover, or he could hang out and watch his friends get black out drunk and then wake up on a futon that feels more like a cloud than a mattress, a little slice of heaven in Jungkook and Taehyung's little apartment.

"Okay," Jimin relents. "Give me the keys. I’ll stick to water for the rest of the night."

"Ah, I love you man," Jungkook praises, tossing his keys in Jimin's general direction before grabbing the newly opened can of beer out of Taehyung's hand below him. Taehyung, still staring up at the sky with a glazed smile, doesn't react. It takes Jungkook all of five seconds to pour the contents of the can straight down his throat. He follows this by smashing the can in a bicep curl with a giggle and a bashful smile.

"Do it again," an unfamiliar girly voice pleads from across the table. She tosses him another can and he repeats the action, turning away when he's finished so that he doesn't have to see her reaction. Jimin knows what's going to happen once his friend gets a few more beers in him. Jungkook is going to go apeshit. There will be no trace of this shy hunk of muscle who blushes and coils away from pretty girls. He'll be chest thumping shirtless and picking up everyone who gets close enough to touch. Half of them will probably end up thrown in the pool, if history is anything to go by, and he'll most likely have the hottest girl at the party slobbering all over him in the backseat when Jimin drives him home tonight.

Jimin's suspicions prove true an hour later when Jungkook throws Tae in the pool. Jimin runs to the edge of it in a panic. Tae was very drunk so he needs to make sure he's not just sinking like a stone. That was his first mistake, although he'd make it again to keep Taehyung safe. His second mistake was wearing these ridiculously tight ass jeans.

Any other pair and he might have been able to pry his cell phone from his pocket the second he felt JK's hands on his back. Had he worn any other pair of pants he might have been able to throw it to safety in the grass before he hit the surface of the pool. As it stands, his skin tight jeans are soaked through, Tae is slightly more sober than he was when Jimin arrived and is swimming just fine, and Jimin's phone is totally destroyed.

You should be sleeping. It's three in the morning. You should definitely not be awake right now. Lifting your phone up for the three hundredth time tonight, you're not surprised to have no new notifications. That text you sent to Jimin hours ago has gone unanswered.

You typed and erased it at least ten times, agonized over what to say, and how to say it. By the time you pressed send, the message was nothing like how it began and you noticed a second too late that you didn't even tell him who you were. Adding a second text saying 'it's y/n btw' seemed so desperate. You've been waiting for him to ask who you are for so long that you've convinced yourself he already knows and he's avoiding you on purpose. Who else would have said "i'm excited to see you tomorrow" in a text about meeting up to study? He knows it's you. He has to. The alternative possibility that he plans to see other people tomorrow too is too bothersome to accept. You really need to let this go and try to sleep.

Keys in the door stop you from dragging yourself off the couch. Your roommate will see you and accuse you of trying to run away from him to avoid something. He’s right, of course. You’ve attempted to flee from your problems in the past, against his advice. Now you know better than to try. It's much better to face things with Yoongi head on. At the very least, maybe he's got something helpful to say.

"Why're you up? You look sad." His words slur just the tiniest bit and he leans against the wall for stability as he takes off his shoes just inside the door. You see right through his attempts at nonchalance. He's tipsy.

"A boy I like isn't texting me back," you admit with a scowl. "You didn't drive, did you?"

"No, friend dropped me off. Is it Taehyung?" Yoongi asks, not pausing for an answer. "I wouldn't worry too much. He talked about you a lot tonight. He was really drunk though. You should go to bed. He'll probably text you in the morning."

You don't bother to correct Yoongi. Admitting you're harboring a huge fucking crush on the campus it-boy is the most foolish thing you could possibly do. It's embarrassing and naive and Yoongi would pity you for falling for someone so far out of your league. Maybe you should just date Taehyung and forget about Jimin. He sure seems to have forgotten about you.

When the morning comes and your only notifications are an email from Target and a text from your mom, you muster up every bit of courage you could possibly find in your body and call him. You’d rather know if he’s deliberately ignoring you now than agonize over other possibilities all day.

It doesn't even ring. His phone goes straight to voicemail. You try again, and a third time. Voicemail, voicemail. Could it be you rushed putting his number in and did it incorrectly? You dig through your backpack for the slip of paper he gave you to double check, and sure enough, it’s his number. He's ignoring you. He turned off his phone to solidify that fact in your brain.

Last night, laying awake waiting for his name to light up your phone, you felt pretty damn bad. In the daylight, with rest and a clear head, you're absolutely crushed. He was supposed to come over. You had plans. It was stupid of you to think you could earn space in his mind or time in his schedule. He played you, and it hurts.

Studying on your own proves more difficult than you imagined. With only Tae's notes to go by, you feel like you're quizzing yourself on things you already know. Turning to the textbook doesn't give you the specialized knowledge you need for the exam. You could never hope to memorize enough of it that you'd retain something pertinent.

On top of that, your heart hurts. You were so close to spending time together you could practically smell the subtle scent of his cologne. He pulled the rug right out from under you so fast, your ass is sore from falling on it so hard.

Sunday and Monday pass miserably in their slowness as you continue to nurse your tender rejected heart. You spend two days mulling over how you're going to face Jimin on Tuesday, let alone how you’re going to pass this exam when you're so disgustingly focused on figuring out why he stood you up and ignored you all weekend.

Tuesday comes too soon and you find yourself lingering outside the lecture hall for way longer than any sane person should.

That's what bothers you the most about this whole thing with Jimin. He's stolen your sense. How on earth did you let a stupid crush, on a boy you hardly know, get between you and your grades? You tell yourself no more as you suck in a deep breath and steel yourself to march right through the door. You're not going to let Park Jimin and his cruelty stand between you and your credits.

With your resolve solid and your head held high, you push yourself forward. You don't even spare a glance in his general direction as you pass, although it would be a lie to say you didn't clock him in your peripheral. Tae sits down next to you a moment later and you thank your lucky stars you have a friend here to make you look busy.

"Ready to make this exam your bitch?" he asks, making finger guns at you and clicking his tongue.

"That remains to be seen," you say, turning toward him in your seat so that Jimin is behind you. "I couldn't get anything done this weekend," you confess. "I thought I was more prepared than I am so it really just depends on what's on the exam."

"Aw fuck, you could have called me," he says, passing you his note cards. "We could have studied together."

"Oh, Tae," you sigh, pushing his hand back and refusing his offer of notes. "You should use this time for yourself. It wouldn't be fair of me to take it from you."

"We've got ten minutes." He points to the clock at the front of the lecture hall. "Quiz me. It will help us both."

Ten minutes fly by as you do your absolute best to retain any of the information in Taehyung's carefully written cards. You take one last glance at it before someone slips it from your hand and replaces it with a test. You know it's Jimin.

Only when you look up and level him with a glare does it seem to register on his face that you're angry. Realization dawns on him as you snatch the test and lean over it on your desk.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry," he quietly whispers, but he's moving on already. The exam is about to begin. He doesn't have time to explain himself right now. He knows what it looks like. He led you on and stood you up without so much as a text message. He should have asked Tae to tell you what happened, but the truth is that he forgot about you entirely and he knows that is the cruelest thing he could possibly confess.

Nearly an hour later you set your pencil down and run your fingers through your hair. Did any of those answers make sense? Your only possible saving grace is bullshitting your way through the open responses. Maybe you’ll earn some partial credit at the very least.

You swallow the petty words threatening to spill from your tongue as you gather your things and approach Jimin’s desk with your test in hand. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t notice the anxious glances he threw your way. You swore every time you looked up he was looking at you, so you’d squint like you were checking the time, like you had somewhere more important to be than taking an exam for a core requirement course.

As you slap the packet of your evident failure down on his desk, you don your best apathetic expression. You look down at him and allow a sliver of eye contact, just enough to send the message that you don’t care anymore. You try to look bored. He doesn’t deserve to see how he’s hurt you or angered you. He’s nothing to you. You’re nothing to him, but you’re not beneath him. He’s beneath you. You don’t just look at him; you look through him.

He blinks a few times and a chill runs down his spine. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words won’t form.

“Don’t bother. I don’t care,” you whisper with a roll of your eyes.

You make sure to straighten your shoulders and keep your chin up as you turn on your heel and leave. You bombed that exam and you know it, thanks to your stupid feelings, but at the very least you achieved the victory of shaking Park Jimin to his core. So why do you feel like you’re about to sob in the bathroom down the hall?

Oh. Because you are. You spend at least five minutes composing yourself and washing your face before your phone buzzes with a much needed distraction.

[NEW MESSAGE] Tae: hungry?

Jimin’s leg bounces uncontrollably under his desk while he waits for the remaining students to finish their exams so he can go after you. He wracks his brain for ways to clear the nervous tension dwelling within but it’s no use. Confrontation makes him so uncomfortable. Still, he can’t have you thinking he’s a total douche. He should text you. Fuck, he should call you. And he would, if he had a working phone. The second the last student drops their exam on his desk he’s going to find you and apologize.

He knows his reputation precedes him. He knows exactly what this looks like. You probably think he blew you off to get some or just led you on entirely, but he really did mean to meet up with you. He needs to clear the air. Maybe he’s a little loose with his morals at times, but he’s never an asshole on purpose. He prides himself on being a beacon of positivity and an example on how to make people feel good even if it’s only to make them feel good. He barely knows you, but it bothers him to think that you’re out there thinking he’s a heartless jerk and that he hurt your feelings on purpose.

It’s a big campus and Jimin spends the better half of an hour searching it before he finds you in the cafeteria with Taehyung. You look awfully close, and he almost feels bad interrupting you, but he owes you an explanation. It’s a mystery to him why on earth you would seek out his company when Taehyung seems all too willing to be what you need.

Taehyung notices him before you do. He shakes his head at Jimin disapprovingly. “Cold, man. So cold.”

Jimin nods, hanging his head. He’s well aware. You haven’t turned around yet and don’t intend to. If Jimin can ignore you then you can ignore him too. Besides, if you turn to face him, he might notice your watery, puffy eyes. How incredibly foolish that would be to admit that you’ve been crying about being stood up by someone you’ve barely even spoken to.

“Y/n?” Jimin’s soft voice calls to you, melodic and soothing as ever. “Can I have a minute?”

Taehyung looks between the two of you while he moves a french fry into his mouth at a snail’s pace and slowly chews as if this is free entertainment.

“No,” you answer.

“I’m sorry about Saturday,” he tells you, progressing despite your refusal to listen. He plants his hands on the table beside you and leans in to try to steal a glance at your profile, but you turn your head away.

“Jungkook pushed me in the pool right after this asshole,” he says, pointing at Taehyung. “My phone was in my pocket. It’s ruined.”

“Hey,” Taehyung interrupts, his mouth open in protest and full of half-chewed fries. “Don’t pin this on me. You could have asked any one of us to let her know what happened. You never even mentioned it. Why don’t you just admit that you forgot?” Taehyung suggests, jamming another french fry into his little paper cup of ketchup before cramming it into his mouth.

Jimin fumes for a moment, glaring at Tae before he pulls out the chair next to you and spins it around. He straddles it and rests his chin on the backrest. “Y/n, I’m sorry. I forgot. I swear I never would have done something like that to you on purpose. My phone getting ruined messed up a lot of things, but if you give me another chance, I’d love to prove that I’m not the horrible person you think I am.”

Silence. You glance over at Taehyung, willing him to speak up and either back Jimin up or get you out of this. You’re ready to forgive Jimin already and leave with him right now and it’s not lost on you how bad that looks. It’s so easy for Jimin to have you wrapped around his fingers. You wish he was ugly. You wish you never signed up for this stupid class. You wish you could feel for Tae the way you feel for Jimin so that you could just leave with him instead. You’re about ready to anyway when he finally opens his mouth again.

“I think you should take her out to eat. Eating out is the perfect way to apologize, don’t you think?” Tae’s grin is so wide it makes his eyes crinkle.

You huff out a humorless laugh. If that’s what you wanted you’d stick with the original plan and be in the backseat of Taehyung’s car again in the next twenty minutes. Against your better judgement, you turn to look at Jimin, puffy eyes and runny nose no longer hidden. He’s a little taken back by your expression. He smiles at you softly and reaches out to brush his knuckles against your cheek. You practically melt into his touch.

“Mmm, I would like something sweet.” Jimin licks his lips. “How about ice cream?”

“When?” you ask, embarrassed by the way your voice cracks and by how easily you’re giving in.

“Now?”

“Well, look at the time,” Tae says, standing with his tray and messenger bag. “I’ve got to go wash my hair but you two have fun on your date. Use protection!” he calls behind him on his way toward the exit.

You’d be irritated by his blunt suggestion if his statement didn’t swirl a storm of butterflies deep in your gut. You’re so distracted by them that you don’t realize that you’re still gaping at Jimin in disbelief.

“So?” Jimin wonders, holding out his hand.

“I don’t forgive you,” you insist while taking it into yours. Although it’s probably a lie, he doesn’t call you on it. He simply smiles and gives your hand a tiny comforting squeeze.

“My car is on the other side of campus,” you tell him once you’ve stepped outside. “Where are you parked?”

“Oh, um,” he stalls. “I thought it might be nice to walk, give us more time to talk. Is that okay?”

“Isn’t it kind of far?” you ask, assuming he's taking you to that chain ice cream shoppe a few miles off campus.

"No, this place is close. It's a secret. Not many people know about it," he says with a wink.

"You say that to everyone don't you?" You narrow your eyes at him, moving out of reach when he tries to put his arm around you.

"No," he laughs. "I've been here with other people, though. I was here with Jin last week." He smiles, leading the way toward a small alley between buildings.

You follow him easily, questioning again why you have so little self preservation when it comes to him. At the other end of the alley you can see what looks like a park. Green trees line the sidewalk up ahead, creating a canopy against the brilliant sun. The walk to this mysterious ice cream place is shaded and chilly. Jimin slips his jacket off and slings it over your shoulders when he notices you rubbing at your arms.

"Almost there," he promises. In the distance, framed by two towering oaks, is a tiny little ice cream place. It looks like a mirage, something out of a board game or a fairy tale. The closer you get, the more real it becomes. The siding is faded, the roof looks like it's in dire need of repairs, and the hand-painted sign reading The Cheery Cherry has seen better days. It's clean though, sparkling in all the places that matter.

There is a stout old man behind the window with a shining silver ice cream scoop ready and waiting in his hand. Jimin greets him by name and asks for a simple vanilla cone. You're tempted to judge him, he doesn't strike you as the vanilla type, but there must be a reason. Maybe this is the best vanilla ice cream on earth. You order the same just in case, taking your first taste as Jimin pulls a few bills from his wallet and hands them over with a shaky hand.

To your dismay the ice cream is not extraordinary; it's just plain vanilla. You could probably get the same exact type from any grocery store. You should have gone with something else. You should have at least gotten the cheery cherry cone. That might have been a flavor worth tasting. Why was he so bent on coming here for such a bland ice cream?

You suppose you should be thankful for the gesture but you still feel uneasy, like he’s playing you somehow. It almost feels like he’s doing it out of obligation rather than desire. Is he doing the bare minimum because he doesn’t feel like you’re worth more than this? Your company must be the equivalent to a plain vanilla cone. Mediocre. Unremarkable. Ordinary.

Forgettable.

Jimin turns back to you with his ice cream in one hand and change filling the other. "Is it good?"

"It's vanilla." You shrug.

"Do you want something different?" he asks, counting the money in his hand.

"No, I like vanilla."

"Figures," he teases.

"What's that supposed to mean?" you snap back at him.

"Nothing, sweetheart. I just think you're soft, sweet. Vanilla suits you."

"I am not vanilla. I do all kinds of freaky shit," you argue, realizing too late that you've over shared in your annoyance.

Jimin looks you over with a smirk, bringing his ice cream to his lips and dragging his tongue around the edge of the cone where it's dripping. "Noted," he says.

"I didn't mean-- I wasn't -- UGH," you huff, embarrassed that he's still making a fool of you from the doghouse. You need to change the subject fast. "What'syourmajor?" You rush the question past your lips and he laughs at your flustered state, waiting for you to slow down and ask him in words he can understand.

"Your major?" you repeat, slower this time.

"Oh, uh. Urban studies."

"Interesting."

"You don't know what that means, huh?" He nudges you with his elbow, falling in stride beside you. Unfortunately, you had just brought your ice cream up to your mouth and his nudging caused you to smear it across your cheek.

You look at him angrily. First he stood you up, forgot about you, then he had the nerve to show up to class today looking like a fucking angel, takes you for ice cream to make it up to you, and now he's teasing you and making you look every bit the fool you feel like you are. Tears well in your eyes when he laughs at the mess he caused.

"I'm sorry," he says through his giggling. He reaches out to gently wipe your cheek with his thumb which he promptly pops in his mouth and sucks clean after. "What's wrong?"

You swipe at your eyes, ridding them of the tears that were about to spill out as your shame bubbles over. "You make me feel stupid," you confess. "You're wasting my time."

Shoving his jacket back at him, you take off in the direction you came, throwing your stupid vanilla cone in the closest trash can and kicking yourself for not leaving with Taehyung instead. Jimin winces at the action, looking like you’ve discarded a precious keepsake rather than a plain, boring vanilla cone.

"Y/n, wait!" he calls, catching up to you with ease. He takes you by the wrist and spins you back to face him. "I don't think you're stupid at all. I’m sorry I’m so bad at this.” He sighs, softening his hold on you. “I didn’t know what to think about you when you approached me at first, you know? Girls throw themselves at me all the time.”

You grimace at his words and roll your eyes, snatching your wrist back with a scowl. Of course he thinks you were throwing yourself at him, but you’re sure that you weren’t. You were just being direct about your feelings. Do you really come across as such a desperate person? Maybe you should ask Yoongi for his opinion later.

“But I definitely didn’t mean to stand you up and I don’t mean to make you feel stupid at all. I think you're pretty smart, you’re cute and you’re actually bolder than I initially thought. I'd love to get to know you better. I know I'm not doing so great so far, but I can be better. Please, sit with me?" he asks, walking to a nearby park bench.

Reluctantly, you follow, although you make a point to drag your feet the whole way there. When you sit down beside him, he loops an arm around your waist and draws you closer, offering his ice cream up to you once your legs brush against his. You reach for it but he pulls it away.

"Hey," he jokes. "Just lick it. I didn't make you throw yours away."

You shake your head and lean forward to drag your tongue over what's left of his vanilla cone.

"Forgive me?" he asks. His toothy smile catches the sunlight and it genuinely hurts your eyes to keep looking.

"Okay. One more chance," you agree. "So, urban studies?"

He relaxes back against the bench, taking another lick before he offers the cone to you again. "Yeah, it's like community development and stuff. What about you, princess? What are you studying?"

You flush at the nickname, heat rising in your face and other places you'd rather not acknowledge. You're oblivious to the fact that you're having a similar effect on Jimin. The way you're licking his ice cream is making his pants feel a little tight.

"Teaching," you tell him, picking at the peeling paint on the bench.

"Little kids?"

"Yeah." You take another lick of his ice cream while he holds it, looking up halfway through.

Jimin's expression is unreadable, stunned almost. He shifts a little, crosses his legs, clears his throat.

"Kids are fun. I have a younger brother," he tells you.

"A lot younger?"

"No," he laughs. "But he's a total baby so it's basically the same.”

“Oh, does he get that from you?” you tease with a giggle.

His mouth drops open in surprise. “Hey,” he pouts. “That’s not nice.”

“I never said I was nice,” you tell him, taking another slow lick of his ice cream.

“Clearly,” he scoffs with a roll of his eyes. He drags his lip through his teeth to try to hide the smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

You manage to cram so much conversation into the next twenty minutes on this park bench, learning more about the mysterious campus celebrity than you ever thought you’d know. You hope his interest wasn't feigned, because it felt so fucking good to have his attention, to have him really listen to you and ask you about your life and your family and your hopes for the future. If you're not mistaken, you might think this was real progress.

Jimin watches you walk back toward campus with a soft smile and an unfamiliar feeling brewing inside him. You've surprised him. You're not the naive infatuated little girl he took you for. If he had a phone he'd be texting you already. He'd call you tonight, and maybe tomorrow. It's alarming to him how badly he wants another ten minutes with you. He hates that you declined his offer to walk you to your next class, but damn does he ever appreciate the view.

Thursday comes quickly. After your initial ice cream date, Jimin has found himself curiously seeking your attention rather than the other way around. With his phone out of commission he was hanging around the cafeteria all day yesterday in hopes of catching you. While it’s clear you don’t trust him and you haven’t forgiven him, you seem to have softened up a bit. You spent your meals together and allowed him to walk you to your classes, all while exchanging playful jabs at each other. You might forgive him for bailing if yesterday stood alone. Today is a whole different story.

Now Jimin is staring down a stack of graded exams the professor has dropped on the table at the front of the room. Students haven’t begun to trickle in yet so when the professor takes the opportunity to excuse himself, Jimin wastes no time in flipping through the pile to get a sense of the overall success of the class. When he gets to a test marked in thick red marker with an ‘F’ his stomach drops. He knows it’s yours before he even reads the name. He was hoping maybe you’d been lying about not paying attention.

He shuffles the exam back into place and straightens the pile just as the earliest student walks in. Jimin offers her a wan smile and a tiny bow of his head as a greeting. Although his stomach is still sinking and churning, he’s already thinking about ways he might be able to make it up to you.

Jimin finds you in the cafeteria with Taehyung again, where he has you distracted from your misery by folding and unfolding a cootie catcher in front of your face like you're in third grade and not your third year of college.

"Pick a color now, y/n," Tae urges, opening and closing the folded paper four times after you've indicated the triangle marked 'pink.' "Hmm," he ponders. "It says you need to relax."

"What is this, a fortune cookie? I thought these things were like truth or dare, or like... who I was gonna marry," you complain, flicking the craft from his hands.

Jimin picks the paper up off the floor and hands it back to Taehyung. "Do me," he says.

After a moment of pointing and folding, Tae announces, "It says you need to apologize. Again."

Jimin looks at you while Tae packs up his stuff. After dropping a kiss on the top of your head he leaves for his next class. The action makes Jimin furrow his brows and frown. A feeling too uncomfortably close to jealousy blooms in his chest. Why did that bother him so much? He's not ready to acknowledge the answer to that. Instead, he contradicts it by reminding himself that Tae is one of his closest friends and it's cool that the two of you are getting close too.

"Princess?" Jimin's song-like voice drifts to your ears once Tae has disappeared. You've pressed your face into your folded arms on the table and it's taking everything you have not to start crying about your failed exam again. "I'm so sorry," he whispers, laying his hand against the small of your back and beginning to rub soft circles there. "I'm sorry I didn't help you."

"I wish you were ugly," you mumble into your arms.

"What?" he laughs, leaning his face down next to yours.

You lift your head to meet his eyes. "If you were ugly this never would have happened," you insist, sitting up and shaking his hand off your back with a twist of your spine. "Just be ugly! FUCK."

Jimin smiles before screwing his face up into the most unrecognizable grimace he can manage. He holds it until you start to smile then switches to another terrible expression, with his chin tucked into his neck so that it morphs into several chins and crosses his eyes for extra emphasis on its ridiculousness. When you start to laugh he sticks out his tongue to make it worse.

Once you’re clutching your stomach and doubled over with pealing laughter, he gives you the beautiful smile you're so used to again. "Let's do something fun together," he offers. "And then after that, we'll get studying and make this right. Please let me make it up to you."

"Okay," you agree, leaning into his open arms. It only took a couple days of spending time together to remove the awkwardness you felt when he touched you. He's even held your hand a few times while you walked together after your other classes. Now, his embrace feels welcome and comforting. You still can’t tell if he’s just trying to be nice or if he actually likes doing it but you don’t mind at all.

"There's a party on Saturday, will you come with me?"

"Where?" you ask, as if you have any hope of refusing him at all. You'd go anywhere with him and you know it but you want to try to play it cool. Your tone seems more tepid than you anticipate but he doesn’t seem to call you out on it.

"Jin's," he tells you, reaching for your hand and lacing your fingers together.

He rubs his thumb against the back of your hand while he waits for you to pretend to decide. You relish in the motion. The tingle of butterflies erupt in your belly again like a cannon aimed at your heart, ready to sink it in an instant. Instead of falling, your heart seems to fly up to your brain and a light giggle escapes your lips.

"Okay. I'll come," you say in a euphoric brain fog, looking down at your joined hands. It's scary how good it feels to have his attention like this, but you hope it doesn’t stop.

"Why are you home?" Yoongi asks, finding you on the couch when he emerges from his bedroom. His late afternoon nap went longer than expected, leaving you believing he was out for the night. You settled in with Netflix and snacks of your own. He flops down next to you, causing you to swing your feet off the couch before they get squashed beneath his butt. He yawns and lets his head dip forward as he pulls out his phone and begins flipping through it.

"It's Friday night,” he reminds you, his tone scratchy. It makes you giggle.

"I didn't wanna go out alone and I thought you were gone. You're gonna be up all night now, you know."

"I would have stayed asleep but I've got a friend in need," he mumbles, rubbing the remainder of sleep from his eyes.

"Aww, you're so good to me." You beam, snuggling up to him and wrapping him up in a tight hug.

"Not you," he huffs with a disgusted grimace. “Ugh, that’s enough touching.”

You immediately pull back and scoff. “Wow. You’re lucky I know you know you love me.”

He rolls his eyes. "That’s debatable.”

“Yeah, okay,” you mock him in a tone of disbelief. You pop a chip into your mouth. “So why are you really up— if not to support your wonderful, beautiful, perfectly sculpted local couch potato?”

He smiles and steals the next chip from your hand before you can shove it into your mouth. “If you're good with it, my friend is gonna crash on our couch for a few days. His parents cut him off and he’s got nowhere to go. He’s almost got enough saved up to get his own place, but he could use some help in the meantime. Figured we’re doing alright and we have a couch. You cool with that?"

"Sure," you agree, trusting Yoongi's judgment. He's not gonna let some crazy person stay on your couch. "When?"

"I was just waiting for your approval but I hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to you before I passed out. I'll go pick him up now, if that's good with you," he says slipping his feet into a pair of sandals and looking for his keys.

"What, he doesn't have a car?"

"Sold it to pay for his books this semester. He's got nothing. He's keeping all his clothes in another friend's closet. It's kinda sad."

"That's rough," you agree, blowing out a heavy exhale and turning your attention back to the TV.

"I'll be back in a few. Maybe take it to your room so he can have the couch?" Yoongi suggests.

"Sure, sure," you say, already sucked back into your show and forgetting entirely about Yoongi and his friend for now.

When Yoongi returns an hour later, you haven't moved. In fact, you’ve crashed… hard. Yoongi and his mystery guest enter to a chorus of your snores and the Friends theme song.

“Hey, get up,” Yoongi urges, nudging your shoulder lightly.

When you peel your eyes open to look at him, you’re utterly mystified to see the object of your affections a few feet behind him, standing awkwardly in your kitchen with a duffle slung over his shoulder.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you blink a few times to clear your vision. You want to be sure it's him before you open your mouth. He's there, in black sweats with a grey hoodie pulled up over his white baseball cap. “Jimin?”

“Oh good you know him," Yoongi says with relief coating his tone. "I’m gonna get him some blankets. Think you can take your Netflix marathon to your room?”

"Yeah, I can do that," you mumble, gathering up your mess and disappearing into your room without another word.

Alone in your room, you conjure up a hundred reasons in your anxious mind that could explain why Jimin thought he had to keep this huge secret from you. He’s got nothing? Maybe he was afraid you'd tell people. Suddenly, it makes so much sense why he's always walking everywhere.

You think back to Tuesday at the Cheery Cherry. His usually steady hands were so shaky handing over those bills he pulled from his wallet. You think of how tightly he clutched his change and even counted it out afterward. If you hadn’t been so preoccupied with your own thoughts of inadequacy, you might have been able to put it together on your own. Your stomach drops when you recall the insulting way you threw your vanilla cone in the trash. The scene replays over and over again until you’re crying into your pillow.

Guilt keeps you awake until well past midnight as you turn these unsavory ideas over and over in your head, looking at them from every possible angle and over analyzing every detail of the time you've spent together thus far. Your eyes are now wide and dry, fixed on a black spot on your ceiling that you're hoping is just a speck and not a spider. The quilt in your hands is frayed, giving your nervous hands something to pick at while you let the silence drive you mad.

The soft knock on your door at half past one is a relief. Yoongi does his best cooking at odd hours, usually bringing you a plate if you're awake. It's a surprise to find Jimin outside your door instead. He awkwardly shifts from foot to foot until he finds your eyes in the dim glow of your table lamp.

"Did I wake you?" he whispers, head leaning against your door frame.

You shake your head, looking down at your skimpy sleep shorts and the university hoodie you pulled on to open the door. “I was up.”

“Can we talk?”

“Of course,” you answer, stepping aside so he can come in. Your eyes scan the room nervously, checking for underwear on the floor and counting the half empty glasses of water on your nightstand. If you knew Jimin was going to be in your bedroom tonight, you would have cleaned up. At least you didn’t leave your vibrator out in the open. You don’t think you’d recover from the embarrassment of that.

Jimin follows you to your bed, perching on the edge once you’ve settled back against your pillows.

“I feel like I owe you an explanation.”

“You don’t,” you respond immediately. “I’m happy you’re here.”

“Then why did you run away?” he asks, pulling at his hoodie strings.

“I wanted to give you space. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. You didn’t tell me what you were going through and I didn’t want to…” you trail off, unsure how to articulate just why you ran away.

“You didn’t want to embarrass me? Hurt my pride?” he asks, sarcasm evident.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him. “You don’t owe me an explanation. We aren’t that close.”

“That’s the problem,” he whispers. “I want to explain. I want to be that close to you.” He leans towards you, resting on his hands. He looks confident despite his current situation and it worries you a little. How can he be so sure of himself when he’s crashing on your couch and apologizing to you again for the fourth time in less than a week?

The Jimin you’ve gotten to know recently seems to disappear, leaving on the smooth talking playboy in his wake. He seems too calculated to be genuine. The words he whispers don’t seem like words meant for you. He is him, after all, and money or not he’s still the greatest catch on campus. And you, much to your dismay, are still just you. Unassuming, uninteresting, unexciting you. You’re the plain vanilla cone he’d never ask for if he had the means to get the banana split.

“Why?” you skeptically ask, pulling your knees up to your chest.

Jimin bites his bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth while he thinks. “You’re special,” he says. “You’re cute and funny and I like spending time with you. You make me feel like I can be myself with you.”

“But you don’t trust me?” you ask, obviously referring to the elephant in the room. He didn’t tell you he was essentially homeless. How much of himself can he truly be if he was keeping that from you?

“I didn’t want to scare you away, and most girls I… see, don’t get close enough to find out,” he confesses. “I can’t afford to take anyone out right now. I haven’t been able to for a while. But I’m so close to getting enough for an apartment. That’s why I took the TA job; at the end of the semester I should be ready.”

“Jimin,” you start, unsure what to say. You’re still thinking about that goddamned three dollar ice cream cone you threw away.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he tells you, standing up. “I just wanted to be real with you, and thank you for agreeing to let me have the couch for a few days. I’ll let you sleep.”

“Wait!”

As you scramble over yourself to reach out, you find yourself on your knees awkwardly clutching your hand towards your chest. You’re still worried about seeming desperate but you can’t let that stop you now. Jimin turns toward you, but you’re unsure of what you wanted to say. You only know that you want to be closer to him too, that you’re not ready for him to go, that if he leaves now you’ll lie awake for the rest of the night reliving this short conversation.

“Stay,” you plead, nervously twirling the string of your hoodie around your fingers as you sit back against the pillows. “Talk to me?”

“Aren’t you tired?” he wonders.

You hold out your hand and he crosses the room to take it, standing next to your bed. You pat the space next to you and tug him toward it. “Wide awake.”

Your yawn says otherwise.

Jimin smiles, climbing over you to lay by your side on top of your blankets. He looks at you expectantly once he’s settled but it’s too much pressure for you to lead the conversation. You only know that you want to keep hearing his soothing voice. You have no idea what you wanted to say.

“You look cute,” he says, breaking the silence and touching your nose with the tip of his finger. “Sleepy and soft.”

“You look sexy,” you complain, waving his hand away. “I kinda wanna punch you for it.”

He throws his head back in laughter. “So feisty.”

“I can be boring instead,” you jokingly offer, rolling on your side to face him.

He does his best to keep his eyes trained on your face, despite the fact that all he wants to do is let them wander down. “I just want you to be you.”

That sounds fake. Again, you battle against the idea that this is all a farce, some sneaky way to get into your pants once and leave you wanting for the rest of your life. He hasn’t bared himself to you enough for you to trust him, so you pry.

“Why’d your parents cut you off, Jimin?” you ask.

He looks at you for a second, stunned at your boldness. That’s definitely not where he thought this conversation was going. He takes a moment to prepare his response and sighs.

“They have this restaurant. It’s a small place right off the coast: Jeongsik. My great grandparents started it from nothing and now my parents manage it. They want me to take over since I’m the eldest, but I want to move to the city and have my own life. I don’t want to work in their restaurant forever and my brother loves it and is perfectly capable. They love me. I know they’re just trying to teach me a lesson,” he tells you. He sounds unsure of that last bit. It probably has a lot to do with the fact that he’s got nowhere to live and he’s penny pinching for meals and they’re shunning him.

“And what is that lesson, Jimin?” you ask, trying to dig deeper before he slips back into playboy mode.

“That being a part of Jeongsik is my only option if I want to be successful. That I can’t make it without them.”

“Can you?” The question is quiet and unassuming. You only want to know how bad it really is.

He takes a deep breath and taps his fingers anxiously against the fabric of the pillow. “I can. It won’t be the same, it won’t be easy, but I can.”

After giving Jimin a moment to say more, which he doesn’t take, you push him further. With your heart on the line and this miracle of an opportunity with him in your room, you're determined to learn as much as you can. You need to get under his skin. You need to know him, so you can know if you should run.

"What's your plan then?" you question, shifting closer so you're face to face against the pillows.

Jimin smirks at your line of questioning. It seems to break him from his thoughts. “Well,” he begins. “The Village has some one bedrooms opening up at the end of the semester, and by then I’ll be ready to make a deposit and lease one. After that I’ve got one semester left until I graduate. Then I’ll move to the city and live my life how I want.”

“Won’t you miss your family?”

“They still talk to me. They’re just not paying for school. Or my car. Or my food.” His heavy sigh at the end contradicts the lightness with which he revealed all of this to you.

“I’m sorry, Jimin.” You reach for his hand, familiarity in the way it fits with yours.

“It’s okay. I have good friends, and I have…” he trails off, catching himself and looking away with an awkward huff of a laugh.

“What?” you wonder, heart fluttering at the possibility that he was about to say ‘you.’ “What else do you have?”

Jimin looks up at you, rising up on his elbow. His eyes search your face for any hint of rejection. When he finds only hope, his hand moves to cup your cheek. It’s warm, adorned with rings that contrast the temperature of his skin.

“You,” he breathes, moving closer. You watch his gaze dart down to your lips before your own eyelids flutter closed. “I was going to say you,” he confesses before he closes the space between you and lays a soft kiss against your waiting lips.

He pulls away way too fast, leaving you to panic in the aftermath. You thought you had feelings for him before, but now that he’s let you in, now that he has shown you his heart, there is nothing more to deny. You’ve fallen, hard. The realization makes you feel trapped, like a frantic dying bird in a cage. But your captor is kind and beautiful and the flavor he left on your lips is the most divine thing you’ve ever tasted.

“Then say it,” you prompt him, urging him to accept the affection you’ve been so desperate to give him.

He kisses you again in lieu of words, longer, deeper, until his tongue is dragging over yours. You fist the material of his hoodie in your hands, pulling him towards you while you turn on your back. He’s hesitant to get on top of you, afraid he might be taking it too far, but you’re insistent. You pull and he caves willingly, slotting a leg between yours and letting his hand drift from your cheek to the back of your neck.

“I like you,” he pants when he breaks away. It feels like your heart flies up out of your chest and does a lap around the room, flapping its hummingbird wings like the wild thing it is before it crashes back into its place.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean,” you plead. “You don’t have to pretend just because you’re here now. I’m a big girl. We can just have tonight.”

You say the words but you know if he leaves tomorrow, you’ll cry all day and probably the day after that too. The truth is, you can talk all you want about how you can do this no strings attached, but you know you can’t. Your strings are so attached to him at this point you might as well be metaphorical shibari.

“I mean it,” he whispers, full, wet lips brushing the side of your neck.

You freeze. You were expecting him to drop the charade and just fuck you or something, but in this moment he exudes tenderness and consideration.

“And because I like you, I think I should go back to the couch before we do something we aren’t ready to do.”

“Stay,” you plead. “We don’t have to do anything, just lay with me.”

He slowly nods and reaches over you to turn off the lamp, planting a soft kiss on your cheek as he settles back into place. You wiggle your form down into the covers and he smoothes the hair from your face before tracing his fingers down your arm. You lean in close enough to smell the subtle clean scent of his cologne. Is it cologne? You doubt it knowing what you know now, unless he’s borrowing it from someone else. You still find yourself enjoying it nonetheless. It’s comforting. Sleep begins to claim you just as he slips his fingers into yours and gives you a tiny squeeze.

“Goodnight y/n.”

You think you respond but you’re in that purgatory state between sleeping and being awake, so you can’t be sure. At least you’re eighty percent sure you gave him a squeeze in return.

That’s how Yoongi finds you in the morning: you tucked neatly into your comforter and Jimin laying on top of it beside you, your hands clasped together in the middle.

“UM!” Yoongi shouts from the doorway, loud enough to wake you both.

Startled, you sit up in bed and look around for the source of the shout. “Fuck! Yoon. You didn’t need to scream.”

“I hope you’re not expecting me to keep this from Taehyung,” Yoongi chides, looking from you to Jimin and back. “That would be quite the moral conundrum.”

“For fuck’s sake. It was never Tae. I am not seeing Tae. We are JUST FRIENDS!” You yell the last two words and chuck your pillow at him for emphasis.

“Okay cool, then Jimin can explain to him whatever this is to him. Jimin, he wants you to call him. My phone’s on the table. I’m taking a shower.”

Yoongi disappears from the doorway and an uncomfortable silence settles over the room. In the light of day, you feel nervous and uncertain. Jimin does nothing to ease your anxiety. He just lays there quietly, unsure what to say.

“Do you want breakfast?” You try to smile and sound as chipper as possible.

He sits up finally and turns his back to you. “I should go see Taehyung.”

He moves toward the door and you feel your chest tighten. “Jimin?”

He turns to you from the hallway, and taking in your confused expression, offers you a smile. “We’re good, princess. I’ll be back tonight, then me and you: party time.” He winks before moving out of sight.

Alone once again, you start to question things. Everything. Are you imagining things or did Jimin seem cold when he left? He kissed you last night, didn’t he? Was everything you talked about too much? Does he regret kissing you? Does he regret staying the night with you without getting anything out of it? You can feel your thoughts spiraling out of control, but you can’t stop yourself from putting up the walls you so desperately wanted to keep down forever last night. It obviously didn’t mean anything to him, despite his claim that he likes you. He probably just meant that he’d like to fool around with you. Like he does with everyone else. You can’t let one night beside him make you think you’re special to him, no matter how badly you want to be.

Knowing you won’t make it through the day without driving yourself completely mad with questions and doubts, you dig your old phone and charger out of a drawer and go after Jimin. He’s leaning over the kitchen counter staring down at Yoongi’s phone when you steal his attention.

“Please take this,” you plead, thrusting the phone and charger towards him.

He looks from the device to you and blinks a few times in surprise. “What?”

“It’s a little old, but if your sim card didn’t get damaged I’m sure it will work in this. I kept putting off bringing it to be recycled.” You laugh nervously as you try to place it in his hand. “But now I’m glad I didn’t. Take it.”

“I can’t accept this, princess. It’s too much,” Jimin says, staring down at the object in your hands.

“Take it for me. If I have to go another day without being able to send you memes I’ll die.”

“Memes?” he repeats, sounding baffled.

“Memes, nudes, the weather forecast. Who cares? I wanna text you. Please take it.”

He licks his lips and smirks at your joke. Was it a joke? It’s hard to tell. He accepts it anyway. “Thank you. I’ll call you later?”

“You’d better,” you tease, offering the grandest smile you can manage before retreating with a slow saunter back to your room.

There’s that view again. He could watch your ass sway in those teeny shorts all day. It takes every last ounce of self control he possesses to pick up Yoongi’s phone and dial Tae rather than sprint back into your room and pin you to the bed. It doesn’t stop him from daydreaming about it though, even as his friend answers.

“What are we doing?” Jimin stands in the sprawling living room of Taehyung and Jungkook’s shared apartment. Both are from wealthy families that are all too ready to give their sons everything that matches the silver spoons in their mouths. They’ve been blessed with a bachelor pad that looks more like a college movie set than anything normal one would find around campus.

“Pick up a controller,” Tae tells Jimin, completely absorbed in the race on their oversized flat screen TV.

Jungkook hasn’t even acknowledged Jimin’s presence yet. Focused doesn’t even begin to describe the way his eyes bore into the television. He doesn’t break from his trance until he wins. Only then does he sit back with a smug grin, dropping the controller in his lap and just barely resisting the urge to gloat.

Taehyung drops his controller too, turning to give Jungkook a congratulatory fist bump. “Take his place,” he says to Jimin.

Jungkook has already vacated his place on the hallowed futon and moved to the row of cup noodles sitting on the counter. The first cup is half empty before Jimin even sits down.

“I suck at these games, Tae,” Jimin grumbles.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to be good. It’s a ploy to get you relaxed enough to talk about y/n.” Taehyung smiles, knowing Jimin can’t refuse now that he’s cornered.

“What about her?” He feigns nonchalance, as if he didn’t just spend last night catching feelings along with your lips between his own.

Taehyung scoffs, half bewildered, half disgusted. “Come on, Jimin. She’s amazing. You like her.”

“I barely know her,” Jimin replies. It’s a lie he can taste like copper on his tongue. He knows your favorite food, where you grew up, what you study, and he’s already programmed your birthday into his borrowed phone so he won’t forget.

Taehyung clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes. “Okay then. If you don’t give a fuck, I’m gonna shoot my shot. She’s funny, and nice, and her pussy is so bomb it makes me wanna get married, so if you’re not gonna do something about that then I will.”

Jungkook cackles from the kitchen. “Did you fuck Jimin’s girl?”

“She’s not my girl,” Jimin grumbles, staring daggers at Jungkook, just as Taehyung says that he did not.

Jungkook takes his armload of cup noodles into his bedroom.

“I know you like her,” Tae prods. “She’s not some materialistic bitch who’s gonna leave you if you can’t afford lavish dates every other day. She’s a good, genuine person. She just wants your time and your attention. Maybe your heart. She doesn’t care about the other stuff.”

“Yeah? So I can bring her back to this futon after I buy her dinner from the dollar menu?” Jimin’s nose starts to tingle, months worth of frustrations finally reaching a breaking point. “I can’t get in a relationship right now and you know she’s not a fuckbuddy kind of girl.

“Right, because I didn’t eat her out in my car for fun last week.” He’d date you in a heartbeat if you wanted him. But he knows it’s Jimin you want and he’s more than happy to push the two of you together to see you both happy. He values friendship above all things.

“If that’s all you want from her, fine. But I think you and I both know it’s not and she’s too good for you to string along. If you’re just gonna break her heart, do it now before she falls any harder for you.”

“Why, so you can swoop in and be the good guy again? So you can get her off in your backseat?” The words are venom dripping from his mouth.

“Bro.”

Jimin softens. Tae is his dearest friend. He knows he only has his best interests at heart.

“I’m sorry.” He pauses and sighs. “We talked about Jeongsik last night. She knows my parents cut me off.”

Taehyung grimaces. “How’d that go?”

“Now she knows I’m not good enough but it didn’t seem to deter her at all.”

“‘Cause you are good enough and now she can see your true worth as a person, which is a thousand times better than the fake worth of money.”

Jimin seems to consider this for a moment but then expresses the concern gnawing at his insides. “What if she really is just another person who wants to idolize me? I’m really into her, but I need it to be more than that.”

“Jimin—”

“What if she’s after the meaningless title of being Park Jimin’s girl... like every other girl that has pursued me lately?” The words make him cringe. He’s humble and kind, not one to throw bouquets at himself, but those thoughts are intrusive and hard to ignore.

“Tch. Do you know her at all? Do you really think that matters to her?”

“No,” Jimin sighs. “But what if?”

“She admires you. You like her. Stop making it so complicated and let go of those ifs. You’ll never know if you don’t try and I want to see you try because you deserve to be happy,” Tae insists, starting a new game. “Now pick up that controller. I wanna kick your ass.”

『•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••✎•••••••••••••��•••••••••••••••••••』

You’ve spent the better part of your Saturday afternoon picking out your outfit for tonight. Yoongi only teased you twice before helping you select something a little bit more slutty than you’d normally pull out for a date. You’re going to a party after all, not some Sunday brunch with your friends.

When it’s almost time for you to meet up with Jimin you find yourself growing increasingly nervous. You run your hand over your thigh and down your calf, testing for any stubble you might have missed in your meticulous hour-long shaving session. On your way back up you tug on your skirt, eyeing it as though your gaze can simply increase its length. When was the last time you wore this dress?

You adjust and fuss over the way your tits fit inside the garment and puff air out of your cheeks. Yoongi squints at you from across the room. Your door is wide open after all.

“Stop worrying so much.” He sighs and clicks his tongue, crossing the room until he can see you in perfect clarity. “You look great.”

“I feel stupid. I should change. Jimin’s gonna think I’m weird if I wear this.” You try to turn and run back to your closet.

Yoongi plants his hands on your shoulders and spins you back to face the full-length mirror hanging over your door. “Look at yourself. Jimin’s gonna think you’re the hottest one at the party. Look at that makeup game.” He gestures to your face. “Wooo! So strong! Wow!”

Your lips twitch into a smile. Yoongi can be so sweet when he’s not busy pretending like he isn’t the softest man on earth.

“What if he doesn’t actually want me?” you ask, strings of doubt still plucking at your insecurity.

“He does,” he says with all the comfort you need in this moment. “I can tell with these kinds of things, you know.”

“That your like, weird sage sense you’re always telling me about? Reading the horoscopes doesn’t make you a fortune teller.”

He laughs. “Don’t be jealous of my power. Have I been wrong before?”

He hasn’t been, at least not with the advice he’s given you.

You exhale a huge breath and cock your head to inspect your appearance one more time. “What if you’re wrong?”

He hums a soft sound before planting a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Then he’s an idiot.”

A knock saves him from the overbearing hug you’re about to give him. He practically sprints towards the door. “That must be him! Pull your skirt up a little, would you? You’re not a nun and it’s gonna ride up anyway.” He pauses with his hand on the deadbolt and drops his tone to a rather loud, strained whisper. “Wait. What underwear are you wearing?”

Your eyes widen and your brows furrow as you angrily march over to your strappy heels and begin to put them on. “Why does it matter?” you whisper back.

“Are they the beige ones?”

“No!” Your hushed tone threatens to break into a shriek. “You know those are my period panties.”

“Please tell me they’re not the green ones.”

“Yoongi!” You get frustrated and lift your skirt just enough to show off a bit of the black lace adorning your buttcheeks as you lift your foot onto the nearby stool to finish setting the strap in place. “Satisfied?”

He breathes a sigh of relief and nods. “Good. Those are good.”

He opens the door faster than you can register the action. Jimin catches the flash of lace and more skin than he’s meant to see as you swing your leg down off the stool and adjust your dress. Heat flushes your face as you meet Jimin’s gaze. His eyes are wide and he licks his lips before nervously clearing his throat. He nonchalantly drops his hands and holds them together in front of his pelvis.

“You-You look good,” he stammers, completely stunned by your appearance.

“Thanks,” you reply with a shy smile. Park Jimin gets flustered? Who’d have thought?

He thought you were beautiful before but he’s never seen you like this. You’re completely decked out and drop dead gorgeous. He’s almost worried he’ll feel inadequate standing next to you tonight but it doesn’t stop him from wanting you by his side, hanging on his arm. He wants everyone to know that he’s there with you.

The pair of you stand there looking at one another and Yoongi slowly turns from Jimin to you, then back to Jimin.

“Have everything?” Yoongi prods, trying to get you to move so he can get on with his evening of relaxation and lazing about.

That seems to break you from your stupor and you nod and walk forward to hook your arm around Jimin’s. Before you get too far Yoongi calls to you and tests your reflexes by tossing your keys. You’ll need those if Yoongi is dead to the world asleep by the time you get home, which is quite possible. You’re not the most dextrous person but Jimin catches them and smiles at you. When you try to take them from his fingertip he moves his hand away and you swipe at the air. He offers to keep them in his pocket and you gratefully oblige. You pull your phone from its confines against your breast and check on the status of your uber with one hand while slipping your other into Jimin’s.

Jin’s party is already in full swing by the time you arrive. It looks like something out of a movie. There are glowsticks, red solo cups, a buffet table of snacks, and loud music by the large inground pool. People inside and outside of this big ass frat house are grinding up on each other, dancing, and spilling their drinks on one another. It’s a little overwhelming honestly. You’ve never been much of a party person and this is a monster-sized one.

Jimin takes your hand in his and gives you a reassuring smile. “You want a drink, princess?”

“Yeah.” You grin and breathe a sigh of relief, feeling your insides melt at the sound of his voice. You know whatever happens tonight you’ll be okay with him by your side.

Jimin keeps you close all night, drinking and dancing and stealing the occasional quick kiss. It's pretty clear to everyone who's paying attention that there's something going on between you. You came with Jimin, you're there with Jimin, you're leaving with Jimin. Either Jungkook wasn't paying attention, or he just plain doesn't care. The moment Jimin leaves you alone to run to the bathroom, Jungkook steps up behind you in the chair you’re sitting on.

"Hey, y/n!" He smiles, all teeth and sleepy eyes. You can smell the whiskey on his breath when you turn to face him. "You look so pretty tonight."

"Thanks, Kook." You know he's one of Jimin and Tae’s closest friends. If you just hang with him until Jimin gets back, you'll be able to avoid the advances of all the weird guys here you aren't familiar with. "I like your boots," you tell him, looking down.

He follows your gaze to his feet. "Me too, I hope no one barfs on them tonight," he laughs, lifting his face back up to yours. The words are slightly slurred but you’re still able to decipher them.

His eyes definitely linger on your cleavage on their way back up. By the looks of it, he's on the short list of people who might end up barfing on those shoes. He holds his liquor well, but if you had to guess you'd say he's had more than he should have at this point in the night.

"So, I was talking to Taehyung recently," he starts with a mischievous glint in his eyes. The rest of his sentence seems to get lost in translation on the way to his mouth.

"And?" You smile at him and realize he’s probably too drunk to have anything of worth to say but you wait anyway.

"He told me something." Jungkook smiles so big his nose crinkles and he giggles like it’s the biggest secret in the universe.

You puzzle for a moment over what could have him so giddy before remembering that Taehyung is intimately familiar with your o-face. You'd gotten so close with him over the last two weeks that the details of your first time hanging out had completely slipped your mind. Jungkook is definitely about to say something crass.

"What did he tell you?" you ask, fearing you already know the answer.

Jungkook leans in closer so he can whisper in your ear. An amused giggle spills from his lips like he can’t contain the punchline to a joke only he knows. Somehow he gets his tone under control and finally speaks. "He told me your pussy tastes like heaven and what a coincidence," he pauses, "I haven't had dessert."

Jimin finds his way back to you just as you've moved to elbow Jungkook off your chair. Unfortunately, the alcohol in your system has your brain a little fuzzy and you misjudge the distance and location. You end up elbowing Jungkook right in the dick. Hard.

A circle clears around you as Jungkook doubles over in pain. Jimin steps up next to you, looking down at his friend and trying to piece together what might have led to you inflicting bodily harm.

Jungkook goes from bending over, to squatting, to laying on his side on the floor. He rolls onto his back still clutching the jewels despite the audience of people who have stopped to observe.

“I’m gonna throw up,” he squeaks out.

“Watch the boots,” you remind him as Jimin leans down to help him up and leads him towards something he can barf in. Through the crowd of people, you can see him just barely make it to a trash can in the kitchen. Gross.

Jimin gives Jungkook a pat on the back as he retches and reaches over him to grab a handful of jello shots off the counter. He returns with the rainbow of little cups clutched in each hand. The crowd seems to go back to their business of dancing and talking amongst one another, the random altercation just a fleeting moment in the night.

"What'd he do?" Jimin asks, holding his hand out to you so that you can make your selection.

"He came on to me." You shrug, picking a blue cup and popping the lid off.

"That's it? You elbowed him in the balls for hitting on you?" Jimin raises his eyebrows in shock and laughs.

"Well, it was kind of an accident. But," you pause to bring the plastic shot glass up to your lips, "he insinuated that he wanted to go down on me." You dip your tongue into the Jello and swirl it around the perimeter of its plastic casing.

Jimin watches you gather all the Jello up onto your tongue with rapt attention. He's growing so hard watching your tongue work like that. It’s driving him insane. He wants to feel it on him instead. He’s also now acutely aware of how badly he wants to swirl his tongue around your cunt, just like that.

"That makes two of us," he confesses with an enamored sigh. His hands are still full of Jello shots but that doesn’t stop him from holding your face between them.

He fiercely smashes his mouth to yours and you cave to the welcome intrusion of his tongue. It presses against yours, curling around it as he sucks the blue raspberry flavor from your mouth. You drop the empty cup to the floor and reach for his belt instead, pulling him against you until you can feel him pressed up against your stomach, hard and needy. He grinds his pelvis against you to be sure you can feel him.

“You feel that baby?” he asks, his tone low and sultry.

You grind back with a muffled hum. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you’re practically dry-humping each other next to the crowd of other sweaty, writhing couples. While Jimin likes how this feels, he’d like to regain the use of his hands. Jello shots be damned.

He pulls away for a second and looks around, depositing all but one of the unopened cups into the hands of the next person that walks by before he squeezes the chosen red one out on his tongue. He leans back in and presses his mouth to yours again. You can still taste artificial strawberry on his tongue. You're not even sure he swallowed before you started trying to lick his tonsils but you don't care. You want him now. You need him.

His thoughts are much the same as his free hand wanders down your back, dipping lower for just a second to feel the curve of your ass and squeeze. When you gasp he takes a step back and looks at you through hazy lust-drunk eyes. His lips are red from the gelatinous treat. You’d love to try and suck the color right out of them.

"Princess," he pants, his hands grabbing at your hips.

"Jimin," you breathe back, pulling him closer again. "Come home with me." It's not really an invitation. He'd be coming back with you anyway since he's currently living on your couch, but this has a different meaning and you both know it. It’s a plea for him to take you to bed.

You make out on the front lawn while you wait for the uber. You make out in the back of the uber on your way home. You make out on the way up the stairs and you leave a heart shaped love bite on his neck while he uses your keys to open the door. You make out pressed against the kitchen counter, and in the hallway.

Yoongi watches the pair of you act like he’s invisible as you stumble your way around the apartment. He has a spoonful of Fruit Loops half-lifted to his gaping mouth and finally takes his bite when you’ve made it to your room. Thank god you closed the door.

Jimin isn't as shy this time about laying his weight over you once you’ve dropped down onto your bed. You’re warm and he seeks the heat of your body as your hands explore the taught muscles of his chest. They dance around his belt, slipping up over the curve of his perfectly round ass so you can squeeze and pull him against you, inviting him to grind his solid cock into you. Your movements get slower and more focused when you unbutton his shirt. He tugs it off his shoulders and throws it to the floor before helping you pull that tiny excuse of a dress over your head.

You're thanking your lucky stars you had the foresight to put on a matching set, despite how foolishly hopeful it felt at the time. The way Jimin is drinking you in wrapped in nothing but a little bit of black lace is making your head spin, or maybe that's the alcohol.

He sits back on his heels beside you, trailing his fingertips from your throat to the valley between your breasts. He skims over your belly button then side sweeps over your hip and down your thigh, leaving goosebumps in the wake of his touch.

"Wanna take those heels off, princess?" he asks, scooting toward them on his knees.

"I can do it," you insist, planning on making a show of dropping what's left of your modesty. You aren't counting on the way the room turns when you stand up too fast. Luckily, Jimin's reflexes are quick and his hands on your hips steady you before you can actually fall. Standing up is also doing something terrible to your stomach. It rolls and clenches and your anxiety skyrockets.

Parties aren't really your thing, and while Jimin might be drunk he is damn good at controlling it. On the contrary, it's becoming increasingly apparent that you are completely hammered.

"You okay?" Jimin asks, concern dripping from his tone. He stands up and turns you both so you can sit on the edge of your bed.

"I think... I'm drunk," you confess, unable to explain why you suddenly feel like crying.

"I think you're right, baby," he agrees, squatting down to unbuckle the ankle straps on your heels. "Let's get you some water."

Your stomach flips again and time slows as you feel the contents of the evening rise in the back of your throat. Panicking, you look to Jimin with wide eyes and a hand flying up to your mouth. He spins around looking for anything to catch what's surely coming and upends your little trash can. Candy wrappers and old class notes fall to the floor. He thrusts the can under your face just as a rainbow of Jello shots and reappears.

"I'm so sorry," you cry between heaves, tears streaking your make-up down your face.

"Shhh," Jimin soothes, gathering your hair away from your face. When he's sure you've finished, he disappears from the bedroom with the offending trash can and you're left with your horrible, alcohol twisted thoughts.

He's going to think you're pathetic and disgusting. Why on earth did you think you could drink that much?

Jimin returns with a glass of water before you can get much further into your self-deprecation.

"You're never gonna fuck me now," you blabber, your filter lost. Your thoughts are a jumble of sadness and muddled lust.

Jimin laughs. "Well, I'm definitely not gonna fuck you like this. I didn't realize you were this drunk," he softly says. It's a caring statement, not even a little bit condescending.

You should be grateful that he wants you sober for sex, but it only makes you cry harder because you really just want him so badly and you're absolutely certain you've ruined your chances beyond repair. So, you do the only thing that makes sense right now and cry harder.

Jimin wraps his arms around you and leans close to your ear. "I want to, you know. I want to lay you down and touch you all over." He presses a soft kiss to the side of your neck. "I want to taste you, feel you. I want to be inside you so badly, but not like this."

"Please," you whine.

"Sober up first, okay?" he coaxes. "Can I help you get some pajamas? Brush your teeth?"

"Okay," you sniffle.

Jimin smooths his hand up your back, tracing the black lace band of your bra with the tip of his finger. “Do you want to take this off?”

You nod, reaching behind you to unfasten the clasp while Jimin reaches down to the floor for the button down shirt he discarded. He averts his eyes while you shed your bra, then holds his shirt open for you. You slip into it but don’t bother to button it up before walking to your door. He helps you get to the bathroom but you insist on doing it yourself so you can clean up and assess just how fucked up you really look right now.

When you close the door behind you, he makes sure to quietly apologize to Yoongi, who is still scrubbing the trash bin Jimin brought out earlier. Yoongi reaches into the cabinet for the bottle of Advil and gestures to a glass of water already on the counter.

Jimin waits for you to open the door and when you finally do he's relieved that you haven't fallen asleep. You've washed the makeup from your tear-streaked face and brushed your teeth. You've even pulled your hair back so it's no longer in the way. You look at him through a hazy apologetic lens as he offers you Advil and water. The last thing you want to do is ingest anything but if it will help you in the morning, you'll try it for his sake.

The journey from the bathroom back into your room is a blur. All you can think about is crawling back into bed and sleeping this awful feeling away. You struggle with the covers for a moment until Jimin helps you slide underneath them.

"I'm sorry. Don't hate me," you plead in a weak voice.

"Why are you sorry? I don't hate you," he assures you, sitting on the edge of the bed.

He's shirtless. He could have been naked pounding your pussy stupid if you didn't overdo it on the drinks. You hate yourself a little bit for botching this chance, but if he could just put his arms around you again maybe you’d feel okay, like you didn’t blow it.

"Will you hold me?" you ask.

“Of course,” he replies softly.

The light in the room disappears and the mattress sinks behind you. His arms wrap themselves around your waist and his fingers twine with yours.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers when you squeeze his hand.

The heat of his breath brushes against your neck but you don’t close your eyes. You’re too dizzy. Instead you focus on the soothing rhythm of his breathing until the weight of your eyelids wins out against the nausea and sleep finally claims you.

Your ringtone wakes you late, when the sun in your room is far too bright to be any time before ten. The sound is grating and irritating and you pull your pillow over your head to block it out. Jimin reaches for the phone, you can feel his weight shift and the heat of his skin when he hovers over you.

"Hello?" His voice is gruff and coarse with sleep.

Peeking out from beneath the pillow, you look over to him. His eyes are still closed and your phone is laying on his bare chest, speaker on and screen lit up.

"Gimme your bae," Jungkook's voice calls through the phone.

"She's sleeping," Jimin tells him. Looking in your direction, he meets your eyes and smiles.

You vaguely remember him making you drink more water last night, giving you Advil, and tucking you in. It's a very pleasant surprise to find that you aren’t horribly hungover.

"Wake her up," Jungkook whines. "Bro. She hit me so hard."

Jimin laughs. "You deserved it."

"I know," Jungkook agrees. "That's why I'm calling. Can I talk to her please?"

"You're on speaker."

"Hi, y/n. I got your number from Tae."

"Hi Kook," you croak.

"I'm sorry I was a douche last night. I get stupid when I drink whiskey."

"I accept your apology. Don’t do it again. How's your dick?" you ask, scooting closer to Jimin and laying your cheek on his chest. He wraps his arm around you and kisses the top of your head. The gesture makes you feel warm all over. He likes you.

"It hurts but I'll live. Sorry. For real. Do you guys wanna go eat later?" he asks you both.

Jimin answers this time. "Maybe. We have stuff to do first. I'll text you." He hangs up before Jungkook can say more.

“What stuff are we doing, hmm?” you question with a giggle, trying to play coy.

“Depends how you’re feeling, princess,” Jimin replies, leaning over you again to deposit your phone on your nightstand. He lingers above you, prompting the cautious exploration of your fingers on his chest.

Suddenly, you are acutely aware of the awful taste in your mouth. In fact, you feel gross all over. Not exactly the way you want to experience sex with Jimin for the first time.

“I’m sorry about last night,” you tell him, wiggling out from under his body. “You must think I am the worst, most unattractive human.”

“No,” Jimin says with a giggle. “I think you’re sexy and sweet. I really like you y/n.”

“Nobody likes me.” You scoff at him in disbelief.

“It’s rude to call people nobodies, don’t you think? Especially when they’ve just confessed their feelings,” Jimin teases, sitting up beside you.

“Well, let me at least brush my teeth,” you tell him, holding his shirt closed around you while you rise from the bed. You step around the clean trash can that’s been placed at the side of your bed thanks to Yoongi, noting that there is also a neat row of condoms on your nightstand and a note that reads ‘be done by 5 i wanna watch Dragonball Z after work.’

You laugh and quickly take care of your morning bathroom routine in record time so you can make use of Yoongi’s gift.

When you come back to your room, Jimin is watching you. His lips are drawn down in a pout, his eyes are half closed, and his chest, still bare, rises and falls heavily with each breath he takes as he rakes his eyes over your bare legs and up. His shirt hangs open on your body, leaving a strip of skin visible from your throat to your panties. He licks his lips when your fingers drag a slow line up that strip.

Parting the soft fabric further, you let it fall from your shoulders and pool around your feet. Jimin sits up for a better view and you wait for embarrassment to strike. It never happens. Instead, his gaze emboldens you. He looks wrecked already and he hasn't even touched you yet.

“So beautiful,” he whispers.

His assurance pulls you forward, one foot in front of the other until you’re close enough to touch and his hands are on your hips as you climb over him. He leans back under you as you push forward, connecting your lips with a force that borders on overeager. You can feel him smile against your lips and self-consciously, you will yourself to calm down. You have all day, there’s no need to rush.

When your kisses become soft and patient Jimin decides to take the initiative. He has to have you. He wants to be inside you. He sits up and sinks his hands into the flesh of your ass and begins to pull you down so he can grind up against your clothed cunt. When you moan his eyes roll back for a second and he buries his face into your neck to muffle the sound of his own. His tongue works in circles against you, giving you a taste of what’s to come before sucking a spot that has you burying your hand in his hair and grinding yourself down on him with need. He licks a hot stripe to your ear so he can whisper in it. In an instant he’s flipping you around on your back and grinding his pelvis against yours, allowing the dark desire to consume him.

“You like that, princess? You like feeling my cock on that sweet pussy of yours?”

“Yeah,” you whine, circling your legs around his hips. You can’t manage much more than that breathy reply, he is intoxicating and already you are drunk on his fumes.

“I hear it’s the sweetest. Made me so fucking jealous to hear Tae talk about you like that. You’ll let me have a taste, won’t you? Let me show you how good I can make you feel?”

“God did Tae just go around telling everyone?” you pause when the friction rubs against your clit just right. “Oh fuck,” you moan, imaging the pillowy soft press of his lips on your more intimate areas.

He chuckles in response. “No,” he assures you. “Just Jungkook and me. Don’t worry,” he says, persuading you with a careful roll of his hips that has his shaft parting your folds despite the layers of clothing between you. “He won’t talk about it anymore, and you’ll forget all about it by the time we’re done here. I’m gonna eat your sweet little cunt until mine are the only lips you remember.”

“Please,” you whimper, drawing him into a needy kiss.

His fingers dip into the band of your panties and he teases and tugs at them until you’re squirming and begging him to take them off. His lips trail wet kisses down to your breasts and he pauses to take your nipple into his mouth as he carefully works your last remaining piece of clothing down your legs.

Nudging your legs apart again, he settles between them, ghosting the pads of his fingers up the inside of your thigh as he drags your nipple gently with his teeth. He switches to repeat the action on the other side and cautiously slips a finger between your folds, parting them and testing your wetness. Much to his delight, he already finds you soaked.

“Jimin,” you breathe out. “Please.”

“Be patient for me, princess. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.” He sits back on his knees between your thighs and uses his thumbs to smear your arousal over your lips. He groans something deep and tortured when he spreads them open.

“Y/n, holy fuck,” he whispers. “You’re perfect. So perfect.”

Heat rises to your cheeks at his praise. It feels like some kind of worship the way he looks down at your cunt, watching his fingers disappear inside you. His satisfied hum is like a hymn to the divine way your hot, slick walls squeeze him, a prayer to the mere idea of having that wet heat wrapped around his needy cock.

“Tae didn’t tell me you were so tight,” Jimin admits, looking up at you under his eyelashes.

“He only used his mouth,” you tell him, throwing your arm over your eyes. “I’ll never forget his lips if you keep talking about him.”

That seems to spark a fire in Jimin. His eyes grow dark and wild. He wants to ruin you. He presses his lips to the inside of your thigh and begins sucking marks into the soft flesh while his fingers continue to pump inside of you. He slowly works his way down, making sure the red spots he leaves behind are sufficient enough to last for days. He makes sure you’ll have the reminder of his face between your legs every time you look down.

“Jimin don’t tease,” you beg, bucking your hips up to seek the warmth of his breath.

“I’m not teasing,” he chides. “I am savoring.” He curls his fingers and presses his thumb to your clit, making your legs jolt. “Trust the process.”

“Jimin--,” you start again, but you’re cut off by the first touch of his lips. It’s barely there, just the ghost of a kiss on your mound. It’s immediately followed by the flat of his tongue, pressing down as he moves it lower, slipping his fingers out as he descends. His tongue parts your folds instead, circling your dripping hole and then dipping inside it.

“Mmmmm,” he hums. “Fuck, you’re sweet.” He spreads you with his thumbs again and goes back for more, lapping at your wet cunt, swirling around your clit, sucking your folds into his lips. But it’s not just the action, it’s the drive behind it. He’s insatiable, moaning at the taste, bucking his hips into the mattress when you whine for him.

Your fingers tangle through his silver hair, twisting and pulling as he devotes himself to your undoing. He moves with you when you grind up against his jaw, stealing a glance up at your face. Jimin feels his cock twitch at the sight of you; breasts heaving, mouth hanging open, eyes squeezed shut. He’s leaking so much precum he can feel it soaking through his boxer-briefs. He’s almost afraid he’s going to lose it and cum in his pants.

“You gonna cum for me, princess?” he asks, lifting his face to push his fingers back inside. He pumps them hard, curling and searching for that elusive spot while he presses soft kisses to your clit. He alternates between flicking his tongue and rubbing against it with his lips, pausing every few seconds to whisper encouragements with warm breath puffed over your swollen bud.

“Come on, baby. Do it for me. Cum for me, princess. Let me taste it.”

“Please Jimin. Pleeeeease. I need you to suck it. Suck it harder,” you beg. “Right there. There! Don’t stop! Please! I’m so close.”

Jimin keeps steady for you despite your trembling thighs. He pounds your g-spot while he sucks as hard as you can take. Your mind goes totally blank, consumed by an orgasm so powerful you can see fireworks bursting behind your eyelids. Heat spreads from your core down your legs, up your spine.

“I’m cu— cumming— Jimiiiiin!” you cry, legs trapping his head like a vice. Your fingers leave his hair in favor of squeezing at your breasts as you ride out your orgasm. You buck your hips when he doesn’t let up after you’ve come down from your high.

“Take your pants off,” you pant, shoving at his head.

He finally pops off with a grin, his chin and lips covered in your slick.

“What if I’m not finished down here?” he teases, dipping his head back down to lick a stripe up your slit. Your whole body jumps when he touches your clit with the tip of his tongue. “Oh?” he feigns shock. “Sensitive?” he smugly asks, going back for one more taste.

“I wanna suck your cock,” you tell him, lazily pulling your legs up and turning your body away from him. You keep your eyes on him as you turn just enough to hang your head off the edge of the bed.

“Are you for real right now?” he asks, standing slowly. The tent in his pants is obscene.

“Please, Jimin. Just a little bit?”

“You’re gonna fucking kill me,” he sighs, tugging the zipper down on his jeans and letting them and his underwear fall to his ankles. He kicks them off and steps in front of you, smiling down at your upside down face, a little dumbfounded to have you wanting and willing to have him like this.

Your mouth waters at the sight of the swollen mauve tip standing at attention. He’s rock hard and so thick you’re not sure you can take him in your mouth, or your cunt for that matter. You’re glad he warmed you up with his fingers because you’re already clenching tight at the thought of that thick cock splitting you in two.

He reaches for the row of condoms as you take him in your hand and give him a few pumps. Just as he rips off one of the packets, you guide him towards the entrance of your mouth. You swirl your tongue against the tip and he drops everything, focusing on the way you tease him instead.

He inhales sharply. “Fuck. Who’s the tease now?”

You run your tongue along his shaft and smile when you get to the tip, giving it a quick kiss. “I’m savoring. What happened to trusting the process?”

He drags his lip through his teeth and clenches his jaw as you put his patience to the test but lucky for him you’re kind. He doesn’t have to wait long. You close your lips around him a moment later, reaching around his hips to guide him deeper, controlling the depth of his thrusts until he learns your limits and leans over you. With his hands on your breasts he rolls his hips. He can feel the tip of his cock bumping the back of your throat. He moans when you gag around him.

“That’s it, princess. Suck it. Just like that,” he praises.

Jimin is careful with his pace, and tender with his touch when he twists your nipples. He thinks he’s in control. He thinks he can take this just fine, despite the fact that your mouth feels fucking incredible. It’s when he watches you part your thighs and slip your hand between them to finger yourself while he fucks your mouth that he realizes he’s got none of the control he was so certain of. His balls tighten and he pulls out quickly and squeezes them, pinching at the tip of his cock and leaving you gasping for the breath you couldn’t catch with him in your mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. I need a second,” he huffs, eyes closed, standing perfectly still. He breathes slowly and deeply. If you could peek into his brain you’re sure you’d see any number of boring things trying to distract him from the image of you fucking yourself with your fingers while you sucked his cock. It’s futile. He’s certain he’ll see it in his dreams.

“Did I do something wrong?” you wonder, shuffling around so that you’re laying back on your pillows.

Jimin ignores your question. He knows you’re well aware he almost came in your mouth. “I need to be inside you like, now,” he says, picking up the condom again.

You watch him tear it open and roll it on with his one knee pressed into the mattress and his other foot on the floor.

"Come on then," you coax, opening your legs for him to crawl between.

He pushes two fingers inside you on his way up, dragging them out slowly and smearing your wetness around your pussy before he lines his cock up and sinks in to the hilt in one smooth press.

You gasp as he fills you, feeling the stretch of his girth, and he hushes your whimpering and brushes his nose against yours. "I'm sorry baby," he soothes. "I'll go slow." He seals the promise with a kiss before hiking your legs up high around his waist and wrapping his arms around you.

He lies still like this, waiting for the green light while he kisses you breathless. He moves to your neck when you break away to inhale, sucking more little bruises in the skin there. "Tell me when."

"Move," you moan. "Move. Fuck me."

Jimin pulls out slowly, leaving just the tip inside. He pushes back in just as slow, repeating the action several times until it looks like you're about to cry.

You need it so badly. It feels cruel to have him rocking so gently inside you when all you want is to be ruined by him. "Harder," you plead.

"Are you sure?"

"Don't make me beg," you whine.

"What if I want you to beg?" he jokes, dropping his hips against you. It's almost hard enough to satisfy you.

"Then I'll beg."

Jimin groans, dropping his head to your shoulder as he sets a brutal pace. He pounds into you, forcing the air from your lungs with his powerful thrusts, rolling his hips like his life depends on it. "You're so fucking good for me, princess. So tight. Feels so fucking good."

"Go faster," you tell him, grabbing a handful of his ass.

Shifting higher on his knees, he picks up the pace. Sweat beads on his forehead and over his lip. It beads in the dip of his cupid's bow and you lick it away before raking his bottom lip through your teeth.

“You feel my fat cock baby?" he asks. You moan in response pulling your legs higher so he can fuck you even deeper. "You like the way I fill you, don't you? Want me to fuck you full of my cum? Take it," he grunts. "You take it so fucking well. You gonna cum for me again, baby?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, rocking your hips to meet his thrusts.

Jimin pulls out when you start to clench, not quite edging you but stealing the pleasure you were high on nonetheless. You whine at the loss of him, walls fluttering wildly around nothing.

"Can we try something?" he asks, lifting your legs and putting them to the side.

"What did you have in mind?" you wonder. You reach for his cock but he's already moving, nudging at your hips until you turn.

"Up on your knees for me, princess," he instructs. He kneels behind you once you're in position and smooths his hand up your spine, guiding you gently down onto your elbows. “Is this okay?”

“It’s good,” you assure him, wiggling your hips a little to get him moving again.

He teases your slit with the tip of his cock, dragging it through your folds and rubbing it against your clit. Finally, he pushes back inside you, coaxing a fresh wave of arousal with the stretch of his girth. It’s deeper like this and impossibly you feel even more full than you did before.

“Oh, Jimin,” you sigh, dropping your face into your folded arms. “Jimin.”

“Good?” He folds himself over you, pressing his chest to your back and sliding his hands from your hips to your breasts.

You thrust yourself back into him as you answer. “Perfect. You?”

It takes him by surprise but he follows your lead. He drives himself into your cunt while massaging your breasts and kissing your back. “Fuck, y/n…” he moans, letting his teeth drag over your shoulder before he bites down.

You hiss at the sting and he soothes it with his tongue and puckered lips.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous taking my cock like this. Feel how deep I am. You’re squeezing me so tight, baby.”

“Jimin? Jimin, I need—,” you gasp out between thrusts.

“What, princess? What do you need?” he questions, releasing a breast to play with your clit instead. “Want me to pull your hair? Want me to fill you with my cum?”

“I wanna ride you.”

“Oh, fuck.” Jimin pulls back immediately.

He lays down beside you and grabs at your waist, guiding you over his cock and holding on tight as you drop your weight and take him completely. Swiveling your hips, you set a pace slow and steady. Jimin’s thumbs rubs soft circles into your skin as you move.

“Go faster,” he urges, unable to keep his hips from rising to meet yours.

You shake your head ‘no’ and continue with your slow rolling pace.

“Please, y/n. Ride it like you wanna cum with me.”

Smirking devilishly, you slow down even more and lean over him with your hands on either side of his head.

He looks down, watching your breasts sway and the way his cock disappears over and over.

“Fuck, y/n. PLEASE,” he whines, roughly grabbing your hips and pounding up into you.

Your startled laugh quickly turns into desperate cries of his name. His cock hits your g-spot directly. It feels so good you don’t even think you need him to touch your clit to make you cum. But he does. He pinches your bud between his fingers while he slams into you, growling and moaning and begging you to cum with him.

“I’m close,” he grunts, licking his fingers and rubbing furiously at your clit.

“Me too,” you whine. “I’m gonna—”

You don’t have time to finish the thought as he takes you over the edge with him. He slams his head back against the pillows as he pumps his hips and cums to the wild pulsing of your orgasm. Your cunt milks every last drop from him and you cry his name, clutching his wrists and letting your head fall back so you can wail your pleasure at the ceiling.

Jimin gasps, picking up his head to look down at how your pussy spreads open around him. Your slick cum coats the condom and his mouth waters, remembering the sweet tang of your taste. You’ve barely stopped grinding on him when he sits up to push you down on your back.

Pulling out, he kneels beside the bed and pulls you to the edge by your legs so he can gently lick you clean. He exhales a hot and heavy breath, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before standing up to peel the loaded condom off his softening cock.

“That was… wow,” you pant, staring up at the ceiling for a moment as you try to regain your breath.

He’s already back at your side, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you towards his chest.

“Yeah,” he agrees while softly combing his fingers through your hair. He’s tired.

You smile against his sweaty chest and plant a soft salty kiss against him. Through the corner of your eye you see the row of untouched condoms on your nightstand. “We’ve got a lot left. Wanna go again?”

He hums a deep throaty sound and laughs when your hand falls to his limp cock. “I want to, but I need a bit to recharge. I can make you cum again while we wait. Do you want that, baby?”

“I always want that. But you don’t have to.”

The groan in his throat sounds croaky as he leans in to kiss your forehead. “I want to.”

He reaches down to wedge his fingers between your thighs and your whole body jumps at the sensitive sensation. How dare your body betray you in this moment?

“Seems like you might need time to recharge too,” he teases while nuzzling against the top of your head and squeezing you in a warm embrace against him. “I’m okay with just laying here and holding you.”

“Yeah?” You smile and cross your leg over his to get more comfortable. “Mmm. You can always help me study for the next test while you’re here.”

Laughter bubbles from his throat. “Are you trying to seduce me for answers to the exam? You know I don’t grade them, right.”

You roll your eyes and scoff, barely containing your giggles as you look up at him. “I don’t think I need to seduce anyone for answers. My head feels a little clearer now.”

“Oh? Why’s that?” he prods while playfully ghosting his fingers down your side.

“Because I know I can be distracted outside of class now instead. I mean, if you wanna keep doing this,” you explain while nervously drumming your fingertips on his chest. “I know I’m not anything special, but—”

Jimin lifts your chin and pulls you into a deep kiss. “You are,” he whispers when he pulls away.

You lick your lips and blink a few times. “I was gonna say you make me feel like I am the most special vanilla ice cream cone on the planet.”

His shy, warm smile fills your stomach with butterflies even as he makes his joke. “Want me to lick you up?”

“And so much more.”

It’s a weighted confession. You sit up to look at him so he knows this. He purses his lips and casts his away. He was avoiding this conversation.

“I don’t know how much more I can give you. I want to be what you deserve, but things are so hard right now. I don’t know that I can be someone who’s good enough for you. You deserve to be showered in gifts and taken on dates. You deserve to be given flowers every day. I don’t even have a car to take you somewhere for a vacation. I’m not sure I can be what you want.”

“Just be yourself,” you state plainly, cupping your hand around his jaw. “That’s what I want. So far I like the person I see. I like you, the real you.”

“I like you too,” he blurts, eyes snapping back to meet yours. “But I can’t afford—”

You press a finger to his lips. “I don’t need expensive dates or fancy gifts. I don’t need you to take care of me— well, last night was the exception and you didn’t need money for that. I just want you to be with me. Talk with me. Spend time with me. Maybe have lots of sex? I don’t know, we can figure out the rest later.” You laugh, embarrassed by your own boldness.

“You see everything that I am and you still want me.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re amazing. Now I know for sure you’re too good for me. But,” he pauses and slips his hands into yours, “I want to keep seeing you. I like talking to you and the more time I spend with you, the more certain I feel about the choices I’ve made. No one’s ever made me feel so free. I want to hold onto that feeling. I want to hold onto you.”

You tell yourself not to cry as you straddle his waist and hover above his lips. “I’m yours then. Are you mine?”

He catches your lips between his and buries his hands in your hair. “I’m yours.”

#smutcentralnet #jimin fic #jimin fanfic #bts fic #bts smut #jimin smut #bts fanfic #jimin x reader

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me1ancho1y-b1iss · 3 years

Text

Her Robin and His Little Ladybug Ch. 2

Ao3 Chapter 1 Chapter 2

As soon as Marinette spoke it set off absolute chaos, everyone started talking at once, asking questions and demanding answers from the small girl. Eventually Bruce, now as Batman, spoke up.

“ENOUGH.” Bruce demanded of everyone in the room.

Silence was all that remained where if a pin was dropped it could be heard. Both parties, Marinette and the bats stared at each other, until Bruce finally spoke again.

“Who are you?” he asked Marinette.

“I believe I asked a question first” Marinette smarted back. Jason snorted as Damian glared at her.

“Answer our questions harlot.” Damian spoke as he glared at her. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

Dick or rather Nightwing now, spoke next. “Come on baby bird, be nice, we don't know her and she doesn’t look like she knows us.”

“That’s exactly the point Grayson! We don’t know her, or how she appeared in the cave!” Damian grimaced as he glanced back at Dick.

“Codenames, baby bird.” Dick muttered

Hi! I’m Nightwing! OMG, you're so cute and tiny! You're in the batcave, this is Robin, that's Red Hood, over there is Red Robin, standing there with the death glare is Batman, and finally sitting at the batcomputer in the wheelchair is Oracle!”

“Uhh… Hi.” Marinette waved. Dick visibly cooed at her while the rest of the bats just stood there.

“I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’m from Paris, France.” She said as if that would answer all their questions.

Realization spread on Bruce's face as he realized what happened. He realized that this must be the work of the Akumas the league was investigating.

“You said you’re from Paris, correct? Batman asked Marinette. At her nod he continued. “So this must be the work of an Akuma”

Marinette nodded. “The last thing I heard before I was transported here was a loud voice yelling, that people should treasure their relationships and that people should be able to have soulmates… or something like that, I don't really know, I wasn’t really paying attention as I was suddenly transported here with no warning.” she muttered the last part under breath but the bats still heard her.

After around five seconds of total silence, Jason started cackling loudly. “You, tiny little pixie is apparently Demon Spawn’s soulmate. Yeah, I doubt that…” Jason spoke, and started laughing again.

After Jason said that, all of the rest of the bats realized what she said and started snickering, except for Bruce and Damian, who just stood in front of Marinette with his mouth wide open gaping at her.

Dick asked a question next. “Wait, what’s an Akuma, and if it's powerful enough to actually locate someone’s soulmate and send them here, Why doesn’t the league know about this? Dick asked, looking back at Bruce.

“The league is aware of the situation. It’s on a need to know basis, and only certain members are aware. Wonder Women, Superman, Aqua Man and myself are the ones aware as the situation is extremely delicate and dangerous.

Paris has their own heros, that have been handling the situation extremely well and there has been no need to interfere. Wonder Woman has gone out and has spoken to the heroes. They are aware that if they need any help that can contact the justice league and we will send out a member to help aid them.”

When Bruce was done speaking, the rest of the bats were sort of shocked they weren’t aware of anything happening Paris this year or any year at all.

Barbara immediately put it into the Batcomputer and pulled up one of Marinette’s old fights. As Marinette watched the fight with the rest of the bat’s, she cringed. She remembered the fight, perhaps she remembered it too well. It was her third battle with Evillustrator. Nathaniel managed to remember that he could draw whatever he wanted.

He turned all of Paris into a war zone. He managed to draw himself an all powerful army with a stock supply of weapons. The battle lasted almost a full day and was one of the most lethal with over 1 million dead. The second deadliest behind Syren.

As the video ended all the people in the room turned to marinette with a shocked look on their faces.

Dick was the first to speak. “You deal with this all the time?” he whispered in a scared tone

“Usually they’re not that bad. That was the second deadliest attack Paris ever had, the first being Syren. All of the effects of the damage is reversed by the ‘miraculous ladybug,’ Ladybug, the main hero announces that after she broke the object where the akuma was hidden. As soon as she throws up her ‘lucky charm’ and says that phrase all damage from the attack gets reversed.”

“What a Lucky charm? You said it helps clear all the damage, so what does it do?” Tim spoke next.

Marinette nodded as she said, “ The Lucky Charm is something that Ladybug calls on during the battle. It’s usually just a seemingly random object, but as soon as she calls on it the battle usually doesn’t last any longer than three minutes.”

“What are the other heroes' powers?” Tim asked again.

“Chat Noir has the power of destruction, just as ladybug has the power of creation. All Chat Noir has to do is simply say ‘cataclysm’ and he's able to destroy anything he touches.”

Again all the bats, except for Batman himself, started at Marinette, with wide eyes.

“How old are the heroes’ because to me they don’t look to be any older than the demon spawn’s age. Also how long has this been going on? Jason asked of Marinette, in a demanding tone.

“All anyone can do is speculate the ages, due to the magic, but many say they have to be around 18 - 20 years old.” Marinette said in a rather confident voice

“And how long has this been happening?” Jason asked again in a tone that made Marinette take an unconscious step back.

“A-about four years.” Marinette said, with her voice trembling a little bit.

“So the heroes would have been about 13- 15 give or take when they first started given the assumptions are correct…?”

At her nod, Jason started pacing back and forth yelling, “FUCKING HELL, what the fuck they’re kids, they were babies when they started and they have to deal with the saving the fucking world every fucking week. I admit I was young too when I started, but it was my own choice and I got FUCKING killed for it!”

‘That’s why he has such a tainted soul, it absolutely reeks of destruction and creation magic, I’ll have to talk to Tikki later to see if we can get rid of it’ Marinette thought wisely.

“B, why in the everloving hell did you let fucking kids fight in a goddamn war alone?!” Jason yelled at Bruce while still pacing the floor of the batcave.

“Hood, they are only one able to fight in these battle, no matter what we do, we would not be able to fight, the best we do is investigate the villain.

Hawkmoth, the super terrorist, is the one creating the akamus. We find him, we stop the akumas.”

“You mean we just sit here while these kids are out fighting and there’s absolutely nothing we can do?” Tim spoke up, finally finding the courage to speak.

Batman simply shook his head.

A/N: ok, so like I have five chapters of this posted on ao3 if you want to read it there, (im taking a minute to post it on tumblr bc im lazy. ok) Also I swear I’m working on chapter 6, i'm just stuck on a particular scene and its taking a minute to figure out how I want to transition. on a side note this fic is honestly just something that my brain decided it would be a good idea to write at 2am so like don't expect too much. (sorry for the rant)

Taglist: (people asked in the last chapter to add them, so if you want to be added just ask. I probably wont respond, maybe, but I will definitely add you)

@alyssadeliv @yannowhatigiveup @sekhmet5

#maribat #daminette #maridami #damian x marinette #honestly I don't even know what this fic is anymore #crossposted on ao3 #miraculous crossover #mlb x dc

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helnjk · 3 years

Text

Sixth Year - D.M.

Draco Malfoy x fem!reader

Platonic!Blaise Zabini x fem!reader

Requested: yes

Hey if requests are open could you do a prompt#21&50 for Draco.. Could it be a bit of angst and end with fluff? Thanks!

“all you do is make empty promises” “i’m tired of your lies”

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: angst, swearing

Summary: 6th year with Draco isn’t turning out how you expected it to be.

A/N: ok 1, i wanted to try writing angst (pls give comments/reviews!! i wanna know how i did) & 2, other than the request, i kind of based this off of one of my fav tiktok acct’s shifting stories aksjdhsadh you can find her here ! i love her tiktoks and she’s what got me into shifting LMAO but anyway ! let me know if you wanna be added to my taglist ! enjoy xx

THIS IS A REPOST BC I THINK TUMBLR DID ME DIRTY WITH THE TAGS

Prompts are in bold

—

Eighth. This was the eighth night you had stayed up until god knows what hour waiting for Draco to show up.

The moon was high in the sky by the time you realized he wasn’t coming yet again. The biting wind rushed past you as you tried to gather as much warmth as possible from the jacket you brought up to the Astronomy tower. Your breath came out in short puffs, white wisps trailing from your mouth out into the chilly night.

With one last glance at the midnight stained grounds, the only light emanating from the moon above, you wrapped your jacket tighter around your body and turned to make it down the stairs. It was a long trek to the Slytherin dorms, which gave your mind more time to spiral. This meant fighting back the prick of tears at the back of your eyes by the time you had reached the dungeons.

The next morning, you found yourself at the Slytherin table barely able to keep your eyes open. You hadn’t gotten much sleep, your mind refusing to stop running the different scenarios with which you imagined Draco must have gotten into causing him to forget your rescheduled plans.

“Y/N?” Blaise’s voice startled you into opening your eyes, having nodded off, leant against your palm.

“Huh?” You murmured, trying to blink the sleep from your eyes, “Sorry did you say something?”

“You alright? You look like you could just drop dead any second,” His eyes scanned yours worriedly, shifting closer to you so that you could have something to lean on.

“Gee thanks Blaise,” A sarcastic drawl came out of your lips, “Just tired. I was up late last night at the Astronomy tower waiting for Draco.”

His brows furrowed at your statement, “Draco? He got to the dorms pretty early last night. Didn’t say he had anything planned with you last night.” Eyes widened at the realization of what he said and he quickly tried to back track, “I mean-That’s not-”

Despite the distinct crack you felt in your chest, you mustered up the faintest of smiles (which probably looked more like a lopsided grimace), “It’s alright, Blaise. Thanks for letting me know.”

The rest of the day passed by you in a blur.

Everyone seemed to notice the melancholy mood that you were in, everyone except for the only person you wished would pay attention.

Being in your sixth year at Hogwarts, you were excited to spend a good chunk of it with your boyfriend. After all, there were no OWLs or NEWTs to worry about (yet), so you assumed that this year would bring more time for you to spend together.

You were wrong. Clearly.

The moment you had stepped off the Hogwarts Express in September, Draco started to spend less and less time with you. It was November now and the less time you found yourself spending with him, the more you noticed that he began to keep things from you. His eyes would shift whenever you would ask him what his plans for the day were or when you questioned who he would be with all day. He never gave you straight answers either.

“Why? What do you have planned for us today?”

“Just off brainstorming for our next date.”

“Obsessed with me, are you? You’re too cute darling.”

No matter how charming he had tried to be with his answers, you could tell something was off with him. None of the so-called plans he came up with ever came to full fruition. Often, you would find yourself waiting for him to arrive, either at the common room to take you to wherever he planned your date to be, or up in the Astronomy tower since that was where you went when you wanted to spend time, just the two of you.

Some nasty rumors had also been circulating Slytherin house. It started when someone overheard Harry Potter speaking to his friends about running into Draco right before a quidditch match, but the catch was that he was in the company of two other girls. Of course, you tried not to let these kinds of things get to you, they were just silly little rumors after all.

Still, these kinds of thoughts plagued you at night when you would go to bed not wrapped in the arms of the person you loved most.

When you brought up these feelings with him, it had only started an argument.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Y/N.” Draco said rather harshly after you asked him about the rumors, “Are you implying that I’m cheating on you?”

“No!” You replied immediately, “I just want to know where these rumors are coming from. You’re my boyfriend, I should know what to say when people ask me about it.”

“Then tell them they should be minding their own damn business.”

You didn’t bring it up after that, afraid that if you did, it would cause an even bigger rift between you two.

By the time you had made it back to the common room, it was mostly empty. There were a couple of seventh years trying to get in some extra revising time in the corner, but they mostly left you alone. Not wanting to go up to your dorm yet, you settled on the couch next to the blazing fire instead. By some stroke of luck, Draco came stumbling inside the room as you sunk into the cushions.

“Draco!” You called out, his name slipping from your lips before you even knew you were saying anything.

His eyes registered that you were in the practically empty common room a second slower than usual, “Y/N. Hi love.”

“I missed you last night,” You admitted as he reached you.

A furrow in his brows told you that he didn’t know what you were talking about, “Come again, love?”

For the nth time, his words struck a chord deep in you. You didn’t think it was physically possible, but they added yet another crack to your already broken heart. You cleared your throat in an attempt to push down the lump that had formed, “Uh, I was waiting for you in the Astronomy tower? Because we had plans?”

As if a bucket of cold water dropped on him, his demeanour changed completely in the blink of an eye.

“Oh darling I’m so sorry,” He muttered softly, taking your face in his hands and pressing kisses all around, “I was completely knackered yesterday, I didn’t even think about anything after dinner except sleep. I’m so sorry. What can I do to make it up to you?”

Instead of the calm you usually felt being around Draco, you felt like you were at your breaking point. You couldn’t do this to yourself anymore. It was surprising to realize, that even with the added comfort of being at the receiving end of his kisses, there was still a large part of you that was tired. You couldn’t fall back into his arms after more than a dozen attempts at trying to keep the relationship afloat.

Gently, you pried his hands away from his face and took a deep breath. You could already feel the sting of unshed tears in your eyes as they locked with his, “I don’t think you can do anything to fix this.”

“What-Love, what are you talking about?”

“All you do is make empty promises, Dray.” You whispered, “And I’m tired of setting myself up for disappointment.”

The love of your life was speechless, so you took the opportunity to stand up quickly. “I don’t understand what you’re doing or why you’re being so secretive about it, but find me when you’ve figured out if it’s worth it or not.”

Without waiting for his response, you hurriedly made your way to your dorm room and sparing no glances back in his direction.

A few days after your heartbreaking conversation with Draco, you still weren’t one hundred percent. It didn’t feel like you were ever going to be one hundred percent again. Your only solace was your friendship with Blaise.

For all intents and purposes, he was your best friend. Even before you had started dating Draco, the two of you were thick as thieves.

Oftentimes over the next few days, you found yourselves huddled in a corner of the common room. He would remind you to eat and to do your schoolwork as you went about your days mindlessly.

“C’mon,” He said one night, holding his hand out to you as you were cuddled up against a cushion. You merely raised your eyebrow at him, “Get up, I’ve got somewhere to take you.”

With a sigh, you pushed yourself off the couch and took his hand. It was well past curfew, but it never really bothered the pair of you. Being Slytherins made you resourceful with how you navigated the castle, the easy dynamic between the two of you enabled you to sneak through the shadows unnoticed by anyone who might have been nearby.

“Why are we going to the Astronomy tower?” You whispered as you climbed the seemingly endless staircase.

“Just thought you could use some fresh air.” He answered nonchalantly, “Feels like you’ve kept yourself cooped up in the castle this whole week.”

“That’s awful sweet of you, Zabini,” You teased, the shadow of a smile on your lips.

He shrugged as you got to the top of the tower, “Just don’t like seeing you so sad.”

Few words were exchanged between you two as you leant against the railing of the turret, taking in the view of the grounds in the dim light. The moon was full and high in the sky, and the breeze wasn’t as biting as it was the last time you were here.

Something about being up there in the clear night with Blaise was doing wonders for your aching heart. It might’ve been the fresh, crisp air, it might have been the calming presence of your best friend. You were grateful either way.

As the wind picked up, you huddled closer to Blaise’s warm body. What was it about boys being basically walking furnaces all the damn time?

“Draco’s a prat,” He murmured as he wrapped his arms around you, “I just wanted you to hear that.”

“He’s not though,” You defended weakly, “Something’s up with him, definitely, but I don’t think he’s being a dick on purpose.”

“Yeah but he’s still made you feel like shit.”

You shrugged, “And I let him.”

After a few minutes of silence, you heard the distinct sound of a door swinging open behind you. You craned your neck to see who would be up here at such a late hour when your heart stopped in your chest.

“What’s going on here?” Draco sneered, taking in the sight of you cuddled up at Blaise’s side, “Replaced me already, Y/N? Reckon he’s the reason why we’ve broken up?”

You felt Blaise tense up beside you but paid no mind when your focus was solely on the rage brewing in your chest.

“How dare you,” You seethed, “You have no right to accuse me, we weren’t even doing anything!”

He had the audacity to scoff at your retort, “Sneaking off at nearly midnight, to share a romantic night under the stars? Seems like more than just ‘nothing.’”

Before you could respond, you felt Blaise’s warm hands on your shoulders, “I’m gonna let you handle this one, love.” Blaise whispered in your ear, “He doesn’t deserve anything from you, but I feel like I’ll only make it worse if I stay.”

You nodded slightly.

“Hurt her even more than you have, Malfoy, and you’ll see just what kinds of curses I know how to cast.”

With Blaise making a quick exit and taking away your source of warmth, you crossed your arms in front of your chest and clutched the jacket you had on closer to you.

“You never had a problem with my friendship with Blaise before,” You muttered.

“Because he wasn’t all over you then!” He argued.

“We’ve always been like that and you know it.” You rolled your eyes, “Why are you even up here Draco?”

“So you own the Astronomy tower now?” He huffed, stepping next to you to lean on the railings, “I needed somewhere to think and clear my head.”

Almost as if there was no gaping chasm between the two of you, your bodies slowly inched towards each other until you were shoulder to shoulder. Almost as if the boy standing next to you hadn’t broken your heart with his secrets and his deflection tactics, his presence seemed to calm your elevated heart rate. Almost.

“Are you finally going to tell me what’s been going on with you recently?” The words that escape your mouth are no more than a whisper. You hold your breath in anticipation.

“Nothing’s been going on,” Is all he says in reply.

“Stop lying through your teeth, Draco!” You burst out, your frustrations finally getting the better of you, “I’m tired of your lies. Do you not trust me? Is that it? Because I can help you, you just have to let me in!”

“Of course I trust you! I love you for Merlin’s sake, Y/N!”

You sucked in a breath, all of your resentment seeming to escape your body, “I love you too, Draco,” You whisper, taking his warm hand in your cold ones, “But all of this sneaking around, this hiding, I don’t think I can handle not knowing what you’re up to especially when it’s affecting you this way.”

Draco took a deep shuddering breath, you could practically see the gears turning in his head. “I don’t want to lose you.”

That wasn’t what you expected him to say, “You won’t, you just need to be honest with me.”

He turned to face you, thumbs rubbing gentle circles on your hands, “I can’t tell you exactly what I’m doing,” You opened your mouth to argue but he cut you off with a look, “All I can say is that I love you and I want to protect you. What I’m doing has nothing to do with how much you mean to me, but it’s something I have to do. I just need you to be here, be with me.”

“I don’t understand,” Came your reply.

“I’m saying that I have an important job to do, and I want to be with you, but that means you’ll have to be okay with not knowing everything.”

“You’ll tell me if you need any help though, right?” You all but whispered.

“I’ll tell you if you absolutely need to know,” He nodded slightly.

“Okay,” You were still trying to wrap your head around everything that he said. It wasn’t exactly what you wanted, but it was a good compromise, “And you can’t keep blowing me off. If you want me to be here for you, then you have to do the same for me.”

“I can work with that.” A slow smile graced his pale features and you felt your heart stutter at the sight, you hadn’t seen him look so calm and at ease in a long time.

“Good.” You pressed your cheek against his chest and reveled at the comfort it brought you. He wrapped his arms around you and you could feel yourself melting into his touch.

#Draco Malfoy #Draco Malfoy imagine #Draco Malfoy imagines #Draco Malfoy fics #Draco Malfoy fic #Draco Malfoy x reader #Draco Malfoy reader insert #Draco Malfoy x y/n #Draco Malfoy angst #Blaise Zabini

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pleasedonthurtcjstar · 2 years

Text

What a “Normal” Person Would Do

Ao3

Characters: Remus Sanders, Roman Sanders, Logan Sanders (Mentioned)

Ship: RemRom, IntruLogical (Implied)

Tags: incest, making out, knife play, blood, gore

Words: 1150

Summary: Roman is not happy with the events that occurred in Working Through Intrusive Thoughts (Asides). Angry Remrom s3x + Dark from RemRom Spooky Words Prompts. Please read the tags and my A/N. Omg Thank you Char on Discord for being my beta!!!

A/N: I've written something like this before back in the 9th grade. Let's see if I can do better than freshman year of high school. Side note: I’m so fucking sorry! Extra side note: jfc im so sorry ahhh. Last side note: Nope! Sorry y’all, I can’t push for a s3x scene so please enjoy everything leading up to it. This is what I’ve written in 6 months and this is how it’s going to stay.

Bc I forgot // Blog Tags: @remrom-events || #remromspookevent

Sometimes tumblr deletes the first line under the cut so hopefully if it does it’s this line and not my fic. Please check out ao3 if you’re worried though. This message is before and after the cut on purpose.

If you see this, hi! Thank you for giving this look. This message is on purpose.

Remus POV

Remus lay sprawled out on his bed in his room, lazily watching the tv as he waited for the hours to go by. The tv was making sounds at him but honestly he wasn't paying it much attention.

His door burst open, and then slammed shut. There stood Roman interrupting his hazy staticy thoughts. He could hardly be seen from the little light that was caused by the tv, allowing Remus to see Roman’s shadowy figure.

“How could you fucking do that?” Roman demands, his voice hoarse. Obviously the other was really angry at Remus. However Remus had no clue what Roman could be angry about at this moment.

And no, it's not like Remus is innocent. It’s just that Remus wasn’t sure what out of the billion things he’s done today alone could have been the problem at hand.

“Woah there brother,” Remus chuckles softly as if this situation was funny, “You're gonna have to be a little bit more specific than that”

In a quick swift motion, Remus was yanked off the bed and onto his feet. It happened so fast that honestly Remus was simply not ready or prepared for this type of action.

The sword was held against his throat and Remus was up against the wall, unable to draw his mace from god knows where to defend himself.

“I can not believe you think that this is funny! Wipe that fucking smirk off your face!” Roman demands, the blade pressing firmly against his neck.

“Oh please, as if you scare me,” Remus mocks. Roman obviously didn’t scare him; he could never scare him. Even with his hard demanding voice and any weapon of his choosing pressing against his body, it's not like they could die. They were all fictives of Thomas' imagination.

However, the low growl that crept from Roman’s throat and the way that his nose flared-

Jesus fucking christ.

Remus focused his gaze into Romans eyes.

“Come on. I’m intrusive thoughts and you’re just rainbows and sunshines. A fucking pussy is what you are.”

Why was he saying this? Remus wasn’t entirely sure. Maybe he just liked pressing Roman’s buttons. Honestly, he should stop. Roman is too pissed for his games right now.

Before Remus could choose between continuing his petty attacks on Roman’s character or backtracking his previous taunts, he watched as Roman suddenly inhaled sharply. He slid the blade against Remus' neck, slicing through the skin like it was nothing. In mere seconds, Remus felt the prick of the blade and the pain. Instead of what a normal person would do, which is to squirm away from the blade and the person who did the action, the worst thing that could ever happened took place.

He moaned.

It was still filled with anguish of course because… pain. But the moan was something that was not lost on Remus or Roman.

Roman’s eyes seem to only glow darker. He tilts his head to the side.

“You like pain huh?”

“Well-”

“Shut the fuck up.” Roman says quickly. He pulled the sword back from Remus’ neck and it transformed into a small blade, easier to wield and slice Remus up.

Remus’ tongue darts across his lips. Wetting the pieces of skin in anticipation of what was to come.

“Lucky for you I'm pissed and want to cut into something.”

Before Remus could respond, Roman was using the blade to cut off his clothing. His complicated attire soon in shreds falling onto the carpet beneath him.

“Roman?!” Remus gasped out in complete shock. Out of everything, he wouldn't have expected Roman to tear his clothes!

The knife in Roman’s hand dragged up Remus' belly. It was pressed hard against his skin, scratching it but not hard enough to bring blood.

Remus held his gut in.

“I know.” Roman said.

“Know what?” The dark sides whispered. He looked back up to Roman’s gaze.

The blade stopped moving.

“Logan told me”

Logan?

His thoughts were cut (lol) short by the feeling of piercing pain in his abdomen.

“Ah-hhh!” Remus lets out.

His cry of pain was eaten up by Roman’s mouth connecting to his.

They've never kissed like this. So hungry and full of need. Oddly Remus needed more.

The blade started to slip out. Slowly.

Roman pulled away from Remus’s lips just so he could hear Remus’s gasps. The grip on Roman’s arms was tight, Remus practically clawing at the Prince’s clothing.

“Ah, Roman.”

Roman takes in a big sniff of Remus' musk. He pulled the knife completely out, the blood seeping out the wound and running down onto Remus’ pants leg. A little of it getting on to Roman’s leg too. But they didn't seem to care.

“Yes sweetheart?” Roman replies. “You like it when I cut into you?”

Remus’s breath was quick. Almost hyperventilating, some could argue. Just as quickly as the wound was created, it was gone; however, the blood stained pants were still a reminder of what just occurred.

“You think you can flirt and be a little whore around Logan and I wouldnt find out?” Roman asked again. The knife now up once more against Remus’s neck, the point of the sharp object pressing against the skin daring to enter the soft flesh.

“I- no. See, I was just playing around with Logan-” Remus manages to get out. And that’s all he could get out before Roman’s quick movement sent metal into his soft under chin.

His mouth filled with his own blood, the metallic taste overflowing his senses. The handle of the knife stuck out from under his jaw. The tip of the blade scratching the roof of his mouth. It was beginning to be too much.

Roman pulled it out and tossed the blade onto Remus’ dark green comforter.

“You’re full of shit, Duke.”

Remus didn't respond. Well, not like he could respond. His mouth was still trying to figure out what just happened, not to mention the amount of blood that was pooling inside, slipping down his throat making him gag and choke it back up just for it to sputter out past his lips. He sank down the wall and watched as Roman unbuttoned his own top, throwing the white and gold article across the room.

Without having to physically touch it, Remus knew his jaw had closed up. His tongue darted out to lap up the leftover blood that had pooled in his mouth and stained his lips.

“Roman,” Remus calls from the floor, gaining the others' attention.

“Yeah?”

“That was so hot.”

Roman nods his head in agreement. “Yeah.”

“Are you still mad?”

There was a pause. It was still too dark to see Roman’s eyes from where he sat on Remus’s bed. Remus wished he could see his brother’s eyes.

“Yeah. Just a little.”

“Do you want to fuck the rest of your anger out?”

Romans lips curl up to a smirk. “Yeah.”

#remrom #sanders sides #remus sanders #roman sanders #pleasedonthurtcjstar works #remromspookevent

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chuckbass-love · 4 years

Text

Intrusion | Andy Barber

A/N : I’m so excited to be entering my first ever writing challenge on this blog. This is probably the first of many entries and i hope everyone enjoys. This is for the Shameless Hoes for Chris challenge. Feedback is welcomed and encouraged, it’ll help me improve.

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Thank you so much for doing this challenge @stargazingfangirl18 & @navybrat817 enjoy...

Pairing : Andy Barber x Reader

Word count : 2,462

Summary : You accidentally walk in on Andy naked...

Warnings : explicit language, sexual content and smut. 18+

I used scenario prompt 13. ‘Accidentally seeing the other naked’

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to whoever made this gif, if anyone knows who made it pls let me know so I can give credit. I genuinely just search gifs up on google and I never manage to find out where the original gif is from bc of so many people re posting gifs. I never wanna give credit to the wrong person! So if this gif is yours or if it’s someone you know then let me know and I’ll credit them. Thank you💗

It’s Friday afternoon and you’re stuck at work in the last meeting of the day before you get to go home and relax for the weekend.

You’ve got plans to hang out with your neighbour Andy tonight. The two of you got rather close once him and Laurie split, he got quite lonely in that house which was understandable.

You recall the time you saw him get takeout for the third time that week and you couldn’t stand the sight of it. So you made some lasagne and took it over to him in an oven dish.

He was beyond grateful for the kind gesture and even invited you in to eat with him to which you gladly accepted.

Ever since the two of you have developed quite the friendship. He wasn’t ready for anything romantic so despite your little crush on him, you decided it was never going to happen. You had gotten used to it being strictly platonic.

You always had plans with him every Friday night and tonight was no exception. Tonight is movie night at his place.

“Right okay, that’ll be all then guys” your boss calls out, breaking you from your daze. You have to admit, you didn’t pay attention during that meeting. Hopefully it wasn’t anything too important though.

You gather your stuff and head back to your office to collect your bag before heading out to your car. Once you reach it you check your phone to find a text from Andy.

‘Hey, just checking we’re still on for tonight. I’m gonna jump in the shower, back door is unlocked so let yourself in’

You smile down at your phone before starting the car and driving out of the parking lot. Once you reach your road and pull onto the drive next to your house, you contemplate showering first before going over but decide against it. Instead you walk across the road to Andy’s, going straight to his backdoor.

You notice some popcorn on the kitchen counter, he must’ve picked that up on his way home. You start to wonder around whilst you wait but he seems to be taking forever.

Surely he wasn’t still showering, he must have been in there for 30 minutes now. You wonder over to the staircase and start climbing, noticing that the shower isn’t on and you don’t hear any noise coming from the second floor.

“Andy, are you in he- OH SHIT” you curse as you walk into his room to find him stood there butt naked. You quickly rush out of the room and run downstairs. You’re utterly mortified. You can’t imagine he’s feeling any different.

Well, now you’ve seen your friend naked. Guess you can tick that one off the old list of things to do. You put the popcorn bag into the microwave and stand there in shock, attempting to process the sight that stood before you no less than a minute ago.

As much as you hate to admit it, the crush you had on him was still very much present now. Walking in on him naked has not helped in the slightest. You can’t get over his body, hell even his dick is huge. Just like you always imagined it to be.

You try to wash away the impure thoughts, luckily for you, you’re snapped out of them by his voice.

“So... about that”

“That was my fault, i’m sorry. I just wondered where you were. I shouldn’t have snooped�� you ramble.

He lets out a deep sigh, walking over to you. You get the popcorn out and pour it into a bowl before walking away from him and into the living room. You plop yourself down onto the couch, seconds later he joins.

“What movie have you picked?” you ask, in hopes that he’ll drop the awkward subject. Thankfully he does.

“I chose American Psycho” one of your all-time favourites. You grin at his suggestion as he sets it up on the tv.

“I love this movie” you kick your feet up onto the couch, your skirt riding up your thighs slightly but not enough to give anything away.

-----------------------------

The credits roll up and you yawn and stretch, moving the bowl to the coffee table in front. It’s been a long week at work and tired is an understatement, you are well and truly shattered.

You sit upright and turn to Andy who is looking back at you, his lips curling into a smile.

“What?” you giggle nervously, unsure of what he’s smiling at.

“You just look really good” you both freeze, did he really just say that? You sit there for a second, not sure of how to respond to him but soon enough the sarcasm comes.

“Well, don’t i always?” you flick your hair in a sassy motion, he chuckles “I can’t deny that” is this what you think it is? is he hitting on you?

“Anyways, i bet-”

“Did you like what you saw?” you know exactly what he means but you decide to play dumb.

“I’m sorry what?”

He shuffles closer to you on the couch, closing the space.

“You know what i mean, did you like my body earlier, when you walked in on me?” you try to fight the smile that tugs at the corners of your mouth but it’s no use, your cheesy grin comes out to play and you feel your cheeks heat up.

“I’ll take that as a yes then” he traces his finger over your bare arms until he reaches your shoulder. His mouth soon replaces his finger as he presses a kiss to your shoulder, then moving the kiss to your neck, then jawline and then finally he reaches your mouth.

Your faces are inches apart and you can feel his breath hitting you, you can’t help yourself anymore. You tried but failed. You crash your lips to his passionately. All your feelings for him come out in the kiss, you can just tell he feels it.

His kiss is rough and nasty but also intimate and loving all at once. You feel like you see fireworks going off in your mind, like all of time is standing still for the two of you.

You get the impression that he’s wanted this for a long time, just like you.

You break away and your chests are heaving.

“That was one hell of a kiss” you pant, he releases a small laugh, nodding his head in agreement to your statement.

“I’ll admit, i’ve wanted to do that since the moment i first met you” you just give a look as if to say ‘i know’

You can’t believe your ears though, you felt it but to hear him say it out loud is something else entirely.

“I’ve had a crush on you for so long” you look everywhere but his eyes, you feel nervous now, really, really nervous.

“I know” you cover your face with your hands, had you made it that obvious?

“You actually admitted it to me when we were drinking once. I ignored it because i wasn’t in any position to act upon it despite feeling the same. But i’m more than ready to act upon it now” you make direct eye contact with him and within seconds, he pulls you onto his lap so you’re straddling him.

He grabs a hold of your hair, pulling your head back as his mouth attacks your sweet spot. You feel him start to bite down, almost as though he intends to mark his territory. Like you belong to him now.

You let out a breathy moan, biting down on your lip at the intense feeling, he’s not holding back. You were sure to wake up with more than just a couple of hickeys in the morning but none of that matters right now. You want to live freely in this moment.

“Let’s take this elsewhere” he stands up and your legs wrap around his torso.

He makes sure the doors are locked before taking you to his room and throwing you down on the bed like you don’t weigh a thing.

He removes his shirt and pants, leaving him in just his boxers. You can see the huge situation forming and you can’t help but lick your lips at the sight and thought of him eventually being inside of you.

“Now, let’s remove this shall we?” he tugs at your blouse, you untuck it from your skirt and he rips it off your skin. That’s one blouse you won’t be wearing again.

“I’ll buy you a new one” he mutters whilst sliding your skirt down to reveal your red laced panties.

A grunt leaves his mouth as he removes them too, exposing how soaked you are for him. You spy his dick getting harder and harder.

“All this for me baby?” you hum in response, desperate for him to touch you.

“Please Andy” you whimper underneath him.

“Please what?” you prop yourself up onto your elbows “touch me” you beg, he smirks down at you.

He starts peppering kisses along the inside of your thigh, teasing you until he’s inches away from your sex. You try to buck your hips up but he pushes you down.

“Patience baby girl” he warns and you relax onto the bed, awaiting his touch.

It feels like you’ve been waiting forever but just when you go to speak up his mouth starts sucking on your clit and he slides two fingers inside of you, without a warning.

“Ah yes, just like that” your eyes roll to the back of your head, the pleasure he’s giving you consumes you entirely. He’s skilled, you gotta give it to him.

“Please fuck me daddy” did you really just say that? You feel the touching come to a halt and he crawls his way back up so he’s face to face with you.

“Daddy huh?” you open your eyes to find a cocky expression plastered across his face.

“I’m sorry-”

“You want daddy’s cock huh? Well then you’re gonna have to beg for it sweetheart” you gulp, his mere presence turns you on and is words only make matters worse. You feel shivers run down your spine.

“Please daddy, please fuck me” you put on your seductive voice, spreading your legs wider for him and reaching your hand down to palm him through his boxers. You then use your other hand to rub at your clit.

“I need it, so badly” your eyes go wide, your teeth tug at your bottom lip. You know for certain that he’ll give in now. Sure enough... he does.

He sighs as he watches you beg for him, he can’t hold it any longer. He gets off the bed to rid himself of his boxers. His face returns to it’s position between your legs and his tongue licks up your folds, stealing one last taste of you.

“You taste so sweet” you giggle at him, pulling him up the bed.

You pump his hard cock a couple of times before urging him to bring it closer to your entrance. He tuts at your desperate state, taking your hands, lifting them above you and pressing them down into the mattress.

“No touching”

You feel his tip pushing at your tight hole and all of a sudden he rams himself into you, shifting you up the bed.

“Oh fuck” you curse as he stretches you out but the pain soon gets replaced by mind blowing pleasure. Your back arches and you try to remove your hands from his grip but you fail.

“Is this what you’ve wanted all this time?” thrust “to be fucked like this, fucked like the dirty girl you are” thrust “bet you walked in on me on purpose, wanted to see me all exposed” thrust. You wrap your legs around him, signalling for him to go deeper. Your wish is his command.

He releases your hands and you hold onto his biceps. He grips your legs, forcing them all the way back to your head.

“Andy, fuck” this new angle is allowing him better access, he’s hitting your cervix repeatedly. You know you won’t be able to last long if this goes on. You clench down onto his length, earning a grunt from him.

“Such a tight fucking cunt. That’s it, cum on this cock princess” his words push you closer and closer to your peak. You always guessed he was a talker in the bedroom and hearing it now is a million times better than all those nights you imagined it whilst touching yourself.

“Keep going, i’m gonna cum daddy” you whine, digging your nails into his biceps, the sharp pain causes him to jolt slightly, he only uses the pain to fuck into you harder. The sound of his skin slapping against yours mixed with your combined moans is like heaven to your ears. All your fantasies about this moment were nothing like this, this was better in every way.

With every thrust, moan and hit to your cervix your toes start to curl a little more. You feel it, it’s coming.

“FUCK” you release all around him, clenching down harder than ever before. Your back arches, your now chest to chest. He sits up, leaning back and pulling you with him. You’re now straddling him, you clench down again, milking him for all that he’s got.

He twitches inside of you and you feel his hot seed fill you up. You throw your head back and he wraps his arms around your body, squeezing you tight.

You stay like that for a couple of minutes, allowing you both time to ride out your intense highs. He eventually lifts you off of him and you both fall down onto the bed.

“Well that was quite something” you both burst out into laughter.

He stands up, walking over to the bathroom and whilst his back is turned you can’t help but check out his ass. He was definitely a sex god, sculpted to perfection.

“Here, let me clean you up” he bends down to wipe up the mess the pair of you made before cleaning himself up too.

You can’t believe that just happened. It happened so quickly, you’re still in shock.

He joins you in bed, pulling you onto his chest and his arm drapes around your shoulder. He starts tracing his finger along your back, making you shiver.

“You up for staying the night because i’d quite like to do that again in the morning” a smile forms on both of your faces as you lean your chin on his chest, looking up into his eyes.

“I’d love to”

You stay like that for a a while before eventually drifting into a deep slumber. It finally happened. You feel so happy.

#andy barber #shamelesshoesforchris #chris evans #andy barber smut #andy barber x reader #andy barber fluff #defending jacob #chris evans smut #chris evans fluff #chris evans x reader #writing challenge #smut

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1025cherrystreet · 3 years

Text

New Home for the Holidays!

happy holidays! and merry christmas to whoever celebrates it!! <3

disclaimer: kinda scared ngl, this is my first piece of writing i’m putting on tumblr. i usually use wattpad (my username is the same it is here if you wanna follow me!), so i’m still learning how to do this lmao. hope you like it! any feedback is appreciated!!!

also... i didn’t really proofread this bc i got impatient and wanted to post it before christmas lol :)

warnings: none, just fluff ;)

gf!y/n spends christmas with harry and his family.

You hear the faint chime of the doorbell ringing from inside the house as you nervously pick at your fingers down at your side. Harry notices the small action, quickly taking your hand to intertwine with his, shooting you a small smile in hopes to calm your nerves.

And it does. For a moment. Until the door swings open and Anne appears on the other side. What finally does put your anxiety to rest is the big, warm hug she pulls you into, a splitting grin adorning her face. You chuckle in surprise (mostly at the fact she hugged you first and not her own son), but return the kind action, nonetheless.

"Oh my gosh! Y/N, my dear, you look gorgeous as always!" She says pulling back just enough to look at your face.

"Thank you! You're looking quite good yourself, Mrs. Twist." You return either a kind smile.

"Oh, none of that. I've told you before, call me Anne," She looks at you with a knowing and playful scowl, waving you off.

"Wow, hello to you too mum," Harry mutters from next to you, plastering a fake pout on his lips.

She softly scoffs, releasing her hold on you and moving to embrace her son.

"You look gorgeous too, Harry. Is that what you wanted to hear?" She jokes, the familiar smirk she holds reminds you of the one your boyfriend pulls so frequently.

When they release from their tight squeeze, Anne steps inside and holds the door open before speaking.

"Well... Don't want you two to freeze out there, come in! I was just fixing a cuppa,"

The warmth of her home heats your frozen fingertips as you enter and your glad to be out of the snow. You love the snow, but since growing up not experiencing it often where you lived makes it a little hard to bear in times like these. You couldn't remember many times you've had a white Christmas before (probably could count on one hand, if your honest), but you've always remembered them being the best ones.

You've always loved the holidays. You loved the cold weather and the time with family. You loved you're yearly family tradition of opening one present on Christmas Eve night and taking a picture on the staircase in your childhood home the next morning. You loved making hot chocolate and watching you're family open the presents you got them.

You loved the holidays. But, what you love more than anything, is that this year you get to spend them with Harry.

You've been dating for two years now, but last Christmas, you spent it with your own family, as did he, because it was a bit too soon in y'all's relationship to make that step. However, this year Harry extended the invitation for you to join them and after talking with your parents (and your brother, albeit he didn't care one bit) you accepted the invite. Of course, not without making sure you wouldn't be imposing at all. And with Harry's reassuring words of, wouldn't have asked if we all didn't want you there, and besides, baby, it wouldn't be Christmas without all my loved ones, would it?, you started packing for London.

Harry shrugs off his coat as you both stand in the foyer and you follow suit as a voice shouts from the kitchen.

"Are they here?" A familiar sister calls out excitedly.

You and Harry enter the kitchen and he's immediately pulling Gemma into a bear hug. You look at the sight and smile fondly, noticing her boyfriend, Michal, behind them, but not before worrying for Gemma's breath support as Harry noticeably squeezes tighter.

They let go of each other and she playfully scowls at him, swatting his arm. To which Harry dramatically holds his arm, draining an, ow, that hurt!, receiving an eye roll from Gemma before Harry moves to greet Michal, and his stepdad, Robin.

"Hi, Y/N! It's so great to see you, feels like it's been ages," She greets you in turn, having enough of Harry's antics already. You return the greeting, along with the one to Michal and Robin, and before you know it, you're all deep into conversation.

Harry takes up spot right on your side like a leech. If you were being honest, it took you awhile to become accustomed and comfortable to how openly affectionate Harry is with you in front of his family and friends. At first, it was just small touches and light squeezes when the two of you would go out with Mitch and Sarah. The actions not bold enough for you to scold him, but just enough to make your cheeks turn pink. Not long after, the touches turned into sweet kisses to your cheek and draping a protective arm around you almost every time y'all went out. Which wasn't a problem until you realized how many stares your friends shot you when you started to get too comfortable in his warm embrace, most of the time opting to daze out in Harry's comfort than pay attention to conversation. So then, when the little affections turned into koala-esque cuddling into your side and planting heart-stopping kisses to your lips in front of Gemma and Anne this past summer, you decided to tell him to reign it back just a tad. It wasn't that you didn't like it! Quite the contrary, the sweet scent of his cologne that would flood your senses as he settled so close to you made your head fuzzy, and the pecks along your neck or on your hands or on your cheeks left you incapable of being present.

Of course, your loving boyfriend pouted a bit at the fact he claims, you don't want my kisses, but quickly got over it when you dropped to your knees before the boy to press kisses somewhere he couldn't complain about.

However, despite all of your protests to PDA, you can't help but relinquish your resolve as you melt into the couch with Harry between your legs, head resting on your tummy. The whole family (which includes you now!) is settled into their comfy spots in Anne's living room as Miracle on 34th Street plays on the TV, everyone having changed into their fuzziest Christmas pajamas. The realization when you saw Harry, Gem, and Anne had matching pajama bottoms made your heart grow tenfold and your eyes glaze over in complete fondness.

The smell of kettle corn popcorn (as Harry made it since he knows it's your favorite) and cinnamon candles fill the room. Anne and Robin are together on the couch perpendicular to yours against the wall opposite of you and Harry as the two of you are laid out taking up the whole space on y'all's blue sofa, while Gemma and Michal have cuddled up on the floor, sharing the big bean bag off to your left since they were the last ones to join the holiday movie marathon.

You love the dynamic of Harry's family. Much different than the chaotic mess of yours, and although you still love your family very much (despite their constant need to be obnoxiously loud for no reason whatsoever, fight over little things, and ignore each other on a daily basis), you admire how calm their presence is. You're family is just so... loud. And that's not necessarily a bad thing! The running joke of your family is that no one in it is capable of whispering...well, except you but you all blame it on the anxiety. But even so, your parents and brother have always argued. Over everything. Very rarely is it about something important, and seldom does it get out of control, but your family's way of showing affection is very...unique? Y'all aren't openly nice and polite all the time. As confusing as it might sound, y'all show your love in bickering. The love is more underlying than it is direct in show.

But that's why you can't get over how quiet this house is right now. Not one fight over someone breathing wrong has broke out and Harry and Gemma actually get along and enjoy each other's company. They're like... friends! The concept is crazy to you and you can't help but get just a tad bummed how your family doesn't just sit around all cuddled up, and how they'll get something for you while their up so you don't have to move from your comfy spot, or how Anne will just hug Harry out of nowhere. But the more you think about it, you realize that it's probably because Harry wasn't around much, always touring and traveling the world. He never got the time to playfully bicker with his family. So, as everyone is quiet in their comfort, you take it all in, happy that you're given the chance to experience their household dynamic.

Your fingers play with Harry's hair, running them through the long brown curls, still as wonderstruck at how soft his hair is as ever. Hearing him softly hum when you gently tug through a thicker curl.

"You're so effortlessly beautiful, ya know that?" You whisper to him, the sound of the movie, thankfully, covering you're affection from everyone else.

You can just spot the smitten little grin that grows on his face, and despite not having the angle to see, you just know his precious dimple is making a showcase right now...and that's enough to put a smile on your own face.

Instead of replying in words, he only turns his head to place a soft, melting kiss upon your thigh. Making heat surge through your entire body, in turn, making your heart warm at his love.

As y'all sit and watch the movie, you start to subconsciously braid your boyfriends hair. Starting by sectioning (albeit, a bit lazily) his hair into two big chunks, then separating three strands from the top of his head, you start braiding the pieces, adding a bit more hair as you go. He eventually caught on to what you were doing and you thought he was going to stop you, truthfully. But to your surprise, he only started rubbing gentle circles into your legs with his hands in a calming manner, causing you to release a content sigh.

When you get to the end, you tie off the finished braid with a hair tie from your wrist before moving to the other side of his sectioned head. It surprised you how long his braids are! They come down about a few inches below his chin, much longer than the only other time you had saw him in braids, which was when Lou did them right before he went on stage to perform. Now, your braiding skills aren't as refined as Lou's are, her skills making yours look rather sad, but you're having a blast doing it and that's all that matters. Not like he's going to go perform after this, right?

After securing the second braid in a hair tie, you lean forward and place a kiss to the top of Harry's head, causing him to tilt his head to look at you with a big smile on his pretty face.

Since you're sat up already and hovering over his face with him still in your lap, you press a quick, searing kiss to his lips, watching them curve into a splitting grin. You smile back at him, just admiring his features.

Despite being able to feel the loving stares from Gemma and Anne in the room, your focus is still on Harry.

“I love you,” He whispers, bringing a hand up to gently stroke your cheek.

“I love you too, bubs.” You return, because you do. You love him so much it hurts sometimes.

Looking at him now, surrounded by his family, you think you have never been so happy in your entire life. You’re so lucky to have him in your life, and you know he knows he’s lucky too.

But most of all, you’re so glad you decided to spend this Christmas with him.

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g0ldengubler · 3 years

Text

chapter 3~a night on the town

(*i do not own this gif*)

A/N: hi everyone! this song is what I thought would be playing in a certain part of the story. I'll put a * at the part. yes, it's minecraft but i could care less bc it’s very calming and dreamy. i also quickly want to say thank you so much for the love on nauseous like it truly means a lot and it’s what’s keeping me going :’) if anyone could give a lesson in tumblr fanfic writing tho that would be great bc i feel like such a grandma xD thank you again for reading and enjoyyy :)

Category: fluff

CW: smoking weed (i don’t encourage this but please smoke responsibly if u ever do!)

Word Count: 1545

before you read | last chapter | next chapter

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You're suddenly in a beautiful part of the park. You didn't see this on your little mini tour, but it was magical. Spencer took you over to a giant tree on a small hill off the pond. The light from the moon made the water twinkle as the two of you sat under the tree. You felt like you were in a fairytale, and this was like a forest filled with fairy magic. It had rained a bit sometime in the late afternoon, so the ground beneath you and the leaves on the trees sparkled with dew drops. The sight of it all filled you with wonder. The night hadn't even really started yet and already you wished the sun never came up again. This couldn't end.

Spencer sat against the tree as he rummages through his bag to find his pen. "I'm speechless," You said as you sat down diagonal of him, "This place is breathtaking."

"I tend to come by here to read when I can't sleep or during the day having trouble on a case," said Spencer, "I found this spot around the time I first joined the BAU. It keeps me grounded."

You grab your pen out of your bag and hold it in your hands, waiting for Spencer. He finally finds his in the bottom of his bag and takes it out. You click your pens on and Spencer froze, not knowing what to do.

"Do we...cheers?" He asks, "Like we do when we drink?"

"Not usually, no," you chuckled, "But if you want to we can."

"You sound like you've done this before, Y/N."

"Meh, I experimented a bit in high school and college. But I never did it everyday like my classmates. Just here and there if I was really stressed."

Spencer brings his pen close to yours. "Well, cheers!" He says awkwardly.

"Cheers!" You giggle.

You both take three or four hits. On the last hit, Spencer started coughing. "Did you accidentally take a really big hit?" You ask.

"I think-" He coughs again, "-so!"

After his little coughing attack, you both laugh. You shift your weight onto your elbows. Legs straight out, you let the high take over your body. Spencer puts his head against the tree. He takes a couple more hits and let's it hit him. You start to feel the tingles again through your body and your eyes getting heavy.

"I wonder what the percentage of these carts are," you said, "I should ask Garcia."

"It must be a lot if I already feel like I smoked a whole blunt by myself."

"Well I was gonna that it's just because you're a beginner so you'll be a lightweight, but now you sound like you've done this before, Doctor."

"I swear I just know my research! I've never smoked before last night."

"Mmhmm, surrrre," you said as you started to get up from the ground, using the tree as support, "I'm sure it was just for that paper."

You grab your bag and rub the grass and dirt that was on your pants. You give a hand to Spencer as he gets up and you start heading outside of the park. You both stood there, looking around. "So, is there anywhere you'd like to revisit?"

You think for a moment. "How about the Lincoln Memorial?"

"Perfect!"

He lends his arm out and you link yours with his as you walk to the Lincoln Memorial. There was a nice cool breeze as you walked under the city lights, your blurry vision making it feel like you were in a movie. You looked up at Spencer and saw that his eyelids were a little bit lower than usual. You felt panic hit you as you unlock your phone and open snapchat. Turning the flash on, you look at the top of your phone and took a photo. You looked at your eyes and noticed they were a bit pink, but nothing to worry about.

"You ok?" asked Spencer.

"Yeah, I'm fine. My eyes get red easily when I'm high so I'm just checking."

"My dear, you look quite marvelous if I do say so myself!" He says, using a british accent, which made you laugh.

Finally, you made it to the memorial. You debated on climbing all those steps to the top, but Spencer made a bet that he could beat you to the top, and you weren't going to back out of a challenge. You both speed up the steps but Spencer beats you.

"Who's the pussy now, huh?" Spencer teases from what you said the night before, out of breath.

You put your hands on your knees, trying to catch yours. "Very funny, Doctor."

Once your breathing went back to normal, you slowly walked closer to the statue, admiring it. "You know," you began, "While my love for crime fighting was my whole life, I had a small interest in President Lincoln. I have no clue why, but I've been reading books about him since I was 4."

You paused for a moment, then turned around to face Spencer. "I have a fact for you, Doctor," you began, but then Spencer cut you off.

"You know you can call me Spencer or Spence, right? Come to think of it, you're the only one who calls me Spence."

"Ok, well Spence," you restated, "Have you heard of the theory that he might've been a closeted gay or bisexual man?"

"No actually, I haven't heard much on it only that it was debunked."

"That is true, but if it wasn't debunked I'd see him more as a closeted bisexual man, not gay."

"Why do you say that?" asked Spencer.

"Because people always forget about it. Bisexuality is real. He truly loved Mary with all his heart and would do anything for her, but I'm sure he questioned his sexuality at some point and just never went deeper into it."

You paused again, seeing if he was paying attention. You then turn back to face Lincoln and continued, "Take Freddie Mercury, for example. Now when he came out to his Mary, he came out as bisexual. But the public just took it as that he was gay because bisexuality wasn't seen by the public as a real sexuality, even Mary. It makes me angry at how long biphobia went on for. As someone who is bisexual, I don't want to feel like a ghost. I want to feel real."

Spencer slowly walks up behind you and puts a hand on your shoulder. He turns you around and you look up at him with glassy, pink-colored eyes. "Y/N, you are real. Everything about you is to me."

You put your hand on top of his, not breaking the look into each other's eyes. Or well, what you could see through his eyelids.

*The two of you then headed down the steps carefully and continue on your tour. But it slowly ended as you ended up walking down the empty streets. At one point, you ended up on cobble road. The two of you were pretty baked, as you would take more hits whenever no one was looking or there weren't too many people walking or driving. Spencer began to act like he was on a tight rope as he walked along parking blocks. He held your hand for support, trying not to fall and twist his ankle.

*You felt content. You never really experienced something like this before, but you always dreamt about it. You never really went out much when you were in school. You focused all your time in your room, working on schoolwork and keeping up with what Rossi was doing in the BAU and the cases they were working on. Rossi was like an idol to you. Ever since you met him, you wanted to do what he was doing; Saving people and getting the bad guys, protecting citizens. But you always dreamt of having an adventure like this with a true friend, and even though you had only known Spencer for a week now, he already was like that true friend.

*But you were also feeling something more. There was something about Spencer holding your hand that just felt...right. It was so hard to explain, even to yourself as you tried to figure out what you were feeling exactly. Maybe it was just the high you were feeling, but looking at his face, Spencer seemed to be quite cute. So cute, that you felt butterflies.

*He jumps off a parking block under a tall street lamp and grabs your other hand in his. He looks down to you as you look up. Finally, his lips lock with yours and you don't stop him. You kiss him back as your arms wrapped around each other, feeling every inch of each other's bodies.

Spencer breaks the kiss and cups your face in his hands. "Do you want to continue our little fun we had the other night?" he asked, almost in a raspy tone.

You nodded and kissed him again.

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #fan fiction #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfiction #dr reid #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler

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julie-and-the-himbo-ghosts · 3 years

Text

You Got Someplace to Go

I,,, I don’t even know what this is I got a random vague idea and then started writing it here on tumblr and then my notes app and ~this~ came out. I was just thinking how the show would be 10x funnier if we had the guys reacting to modern tech way more (like smartphones?? laptops?? they just glaze over this for plot ik but its a gold mine for humour)

I wasn't even gonna post this bc it’s not my favourite fic of mine (nah these are) but @a-tomb-with-a-view read it over for beta reading and @willex-n-waffles helped me with the ending (I love you guys 🥰💕) and I wanted to contribute to getting jatp trending so here lol

Also if this is way off from the actual scene sorry but I wouldn’t have even had service if I wasn’t hot spotting off my mom when I started this so this is all off of memory lmao

Content warnings: bad writing? none

Title from Wake Up of course

Julie honestly didn’t know what to think. She had just put an old demo into the CD player while building up the courage to clean out her mom’s studio, and the next thing she knew, three ghosts were asking her why she was in their studio.

Ghosts.

Sure, once she got past the screaming, the semi-attempted exorcism, and the awkward introductions, she got a feeling that they really were as confused as she was and didn’t actually mean her any harm. They were just three teenage ghost boys (and cute, if she did say so herself. Not that she was specifically paying attention to that, of course, but it was hard not to notice.) who were in a band together. What did they say their band name was? Sunset Swerve, or something? The name was infuriatingly familiar, but she was sure she’d never heard it before.

Well, that is what Google’s for, she thought and pulled her phone out of her pocket. The blond one - Alex, her brain supplied - leaned over in her direction.

“What’s that?” His voice wasn’t harsh, just genuinely curious and confused. Honestly, that itself should’ve set off some red flags, but she was too absorbed in her Googling to care. And, to be fair, she had just learned that ghosts were real and three were in her mom’s studio at that very moment, so could anyone really blame her?

And since she was too distracted to process what he said, let alone respond, she just gave an automatic answer. “What, do they not have iPhones where you’re from?”

“I’m sorry, what?” The boy with the floppy iconic 90’s boyband hair - Luke - spoke this time, and he sounded even more confused than Alex.

Now that made her stop searching and she looked up at them. Alex was doing an uncanny version of that one blinking guy meme; Luke looked like someone just told him they do trigonometry for fun; and Reggie - she remembered his name immediately because he was the obviously bi one with his black leather jacket, unnecessary flannel, and extreme bi vibes - had a look she recognized from when she used to speak Spanish around Carrie when they were younger and actually friends.

So, really just pure and utter confusion all around.

“Yeah, okay, these two may not be the sharpest crayon in the box, but that is definitely not what a phone looks like,” Alex said, jabbing a finger at Luke and Reggie and completely ignoring their cries of protest.

Okay, that’s weird. These three ghosts, who apparently died last night and were convinced they lived in her mom’s studio, had never seen an iPhone - or any smartphone - before?

“Okay, now I’m definitely looking up Sunset Swerve,” she muttered, and then chose to ignore the three simultaneous indignant cries of “Sunset Curve!”

Putting ‘Sunset Curve’ into Google yielded far more results than ‘Sunset Swerve’, and she clicked on the top article, with a headline reading: “Sunset Curve: A Hollywood Tragedy”. The photo at the top of the article unmistakably featured the three ghosts in front of her, so she kept reading, her mouth slowly forming a little “o”.

How could she break something like this to them?

“So, you guys did die,” she started hesitantly. “But not last night. You died in 1995. It’s 2020 now.”

Realization dawned on Alex’s face, quickly overshadowed by panic and anxiety. When he spoke, his voice was quiet. “It’s been 25 years?” No one spoke. ”We have been dead for 25 years?” His voice cracked on the number.

Luke put an arm around his shoulder, and Reggie spoke for the first time. “So, does this mean this is the future?” The awe and cheerfulness intended were impossible to miss, but it was also so obviously fake.

A weight settled on her chest. “I’m really sorry,” She said softly. “I can’t imagine what it would be like to die and wake up 25 years later, with a stranger living in your home and new everything everywhere.” She couldn’t. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to die hours before the most important performance in her life and just disappear, leaving her friends and family behind, only to come back nearly three decades later.

The ghosts looked inconsolable, with Luke wrapped in a tight hug from Alex, neither of them saying a word but speaking volumes, and Reggie was completely focused on fiddling with his hands, looking so lost. She felt like an intruder in her own garage.

“I’m so sorry,” She said again. “I’ll let you guys be alone for a bit.”

She moved towards the door and turned around to face them suddenly before pushing it open. She had to do something for these boys, ghosts or not.

“Hey, if you guys still need or want a place to stay, I guess it’s alright if you stay here.”

Small, sad smiles appeared on each of their faces, dashing some of their grief with a hint of hope. Before she could break down with them in solidarity, she turned back towards the door and pushed it open.

“Wait!” Luke cried as she was leaving. “You never told us your name.”

She fixed him with her own special half-sad, half-hopeful, half-smile. “It’s Julie.”

Luke locked his gaze with hers, and she could feel the intensity of his stare from where she was standing, and God, she didn’t think it was possible to shove that much emotion into one look. “Thank you, Julie.” If his voice could hold so much meaning in this one little conversation, she could definitely see why their band would have made it big. “Really. We’ll prove that we’re good enough for you, I promise.”

She gave him one last smile, one sweet and fond and full of admiration. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve already proven yourselves enough.”

As she closed the garage door, the last thing she saw was Luke mirroring her smile almost exactly, if not more wonderstruck.

#kates writing again #here have this weird hastily written fic asfhgjdh #its for the cause #jatp #julie and the phantoms #julie molina #luke patterson #alex mercer #reggie peters #juke #kinda?#eh im tagging it bc I do what I want #jatp fic #juke fic #wake up #damn I have to title this

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1kook · 3 years

Text

card swiped (4)

→ jeon jungkook x (f) reader

→ “I’ve known Jungkook was a virgin since he first tried to tell me he wasn’t,” you tell him, arms crossed over your chest. “I’m pretty sure everyone knows.” GENRE romance (romcom?), eventual smut, teensy angst WARNING mentions of a hand job, talk of virginity OTHER college crushes, volleyball player!jk, student council president!oc, idiots to lovers, besties to lovers, childhood friends au RATING m (18+) bc brief sex ment WC 1.6k

NOTES (!) sorry for taking so long to update </3 school be kicking my ass. anyway here they are! an idiot couple. lmk what u think!!

[ masterlist ]

In the past, whenever something had bothered you, the first person you ran to was Jungkook. Low grades, fights with your parents, boy drama— as your best friend and number one confidant, Jungkook was always your first choice. He was always willing to lend you a shoulder to cry on, even if that meant staining his white t-shirts with streaks of your mascara. He was always ready to go beat up a mean boy who had hurt your feelings during lunch, even if he’d miss his favorite special. And he was always down for some good old fashion i hate my parents ranting, even if he adored your parents. He was a great listener, an even better best friend, and had rightfully won you over from a very young age.

That being said, how were you supposed to talk to Jungkook about something that bothered you when that something was him?

You could easily tell any of your numerous girl friends, those of which would probably understand your predicament better than Jungkook or any man ever could. But after years of vehemently denying any notion of a romantic relationship between the two of you, you get the feeling your call for help will be met with more unimpressed glares than actual assistance. Besides, as much as you bring up Jungkook, none of them really know Jungkook to truly offer you any worthwhile advice.

Your next option: Kim Taehyung. Now, Kim Taehyung held a similar background as Jungkook (translation: he also went to the same high school as you). He knows both you and Jungkook—frankly, more than you’d like him to—so he would be able to dissect the issue easily and offer trustworthy advice. The problem with Kim Taehyung, however, is that aside from knowing you at your embarrassingly dorky teenage prime, he doesn’t know how to keep a secret. Anything he knows, Jungkook knows. So if you were to, hypothetically, ask Taehyung for advice on Jungkook, well. Chances are, you’d probably get a rather confused text from Jungkook two minutes later.

Which leaves you with one option— Park Jimin. There’s a reason Park Jimin isn’t your first option, and that reason presents itself now as you glare at him from across the empty room. For as long as you’ve been in university, Jimin has always lingered around the student council meetings, giving everyone he sees the prettiest, meanest stink-eye. You suspect it’s because he waits around for Min Yoongi, your Vice President (which isn’t an issue; Jungkook also frequents student council meetings while waiting for you), and doesn’t really care for anyone else. Your problem with Jimin doesn’t lie there but rather with the fact he’s adamant on taking up space and not lending so much as a finger to help.

Today he is sitting with his feet on the table, dirty volleyball bag tossed on the floor. He’s watched you for the last fifteen minutes wrestle with the broken copy machine and hasn’t said a word since. He pretends he doesn’t see you struggling, because if he does, he’d be obligated to help you.

To summarize, Park Jimin may be the fastest libero your university’s volleyball team has seen in years, but he’s a good-for-nothing bum everywhere else.

And despite all that, he’s your best choice. There’s no one quite as blunt and honest as Park Jimin. There’s no one in this world who truly doesn’t care enough about anyone’s problems to gossip about them as Park Jimin. You plop down beside him, rumpled papers in hand. Without warning, you jump straight into it. “Jungkook is going to take my virginity,” you announce, like it’s the most casual thing in the world. If any of your fellow student council members heard you, you’re certain you’d shrivel up and die.

Jimin hums. “That’s nice.” His eyes don’t leave his phone, thumb hovering over his screen. It’s a testament to how much he truly does not care. His extended silence plants a seed of doubt in you— was this the right person to tell? you begin to worry. But after a beat, Jimin’s thumb taps against his screen and he says, “Jungkook is a virgin.”

You clench your jaw. “I know.”

The thing about Jimin is, with the right wording, you can get him interested in something. Not interested enough to genuinely care, but interested enough to at least listen and offer his own piece of straightforward advice. His thumb comes to a standstill over his phone, eyes momentarily going blank. It’s a minute gesture, one that’s taken you four years of paying attention to catch. Just as quickly as it appears, it’s gone. “Really,” Jimin sighs, back to, you now realize, playing CandyCrush on his phone. “You’re gonna let a virgin take your virginity.”

Not a question, but you nod anyway. “Yup.”

There’s sweat building on the back of your neck, nerves at an all time high, but you’re trying to play it off. Just a little bit more and you know you’ll have caught him. Beside you, Jimin’s jaw twitches.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity of trying to act calm, Jimin clicks his phone off and turns to you. He’s as intimidating as ever, ash blonde hair pushed back today to reveal his forehead and dark eyes. “You’ve known Jungkook was a virgin this whole time?” he asks, has this calculating look in his eyes that makes you feel like you’re being questioned by an officer of the law and not the shortest person on the volleyball team.

With a practiced air of nonchalance, you shrug. “I have,” you confess, and it’s the truth.

While you may have been initially fooled that night two years ago, you weren’t that oblivious. Oh, you knew clear as day that Jeon Jungkook was still a virgin, just as well as you knew that he religiously washed his sheets every weekend or that he had a specific color coded system for his underwear drawer. Jungkook was a fool to try and lie to you, not only because you had found out, but because you had found out that very next morning.

It had been subtle. The night at the party, you had watched on with a throbbing heartache as some pretty girl led Jungkook up a set of stairs, had barely fought off a wave of emotion when he returned twenty minutes later, his hair a rumpled mess. “Did you… ?” you had mumbled, pressed closely against him by the back door. Your eyes had been glassy, from your emotions and from the drunken stupor you had gotten yourself into while he was away, wondering what he was doing. A sense of jealousy you would never admit to had curled around your heart. His hand had landed on your hip then. He smelled like flowers and vanilla, a smell unlike his own. Your heart clenched, hand mindlessly reaching up to cup his jaw, so drunk and heartbroken, you couldn’t stop yourself from trailing your fingers along his pretty cheekbones.

Jungkook had graced you with a simple nod, and then, “do you wanna leave now?”

You’d left, stumbling down Greek road on your way back to his dorm. Jungkook had held your hand the whole way, tucked you into his twin bed, and then promptly knocked out on the floor between his and Taehyung’s beds. The latter was nowhere to be found, wouldn’t appear until the next morning when he’d accidentally step on Jungkook’s ankle and wake both of you up.

Jungkook had yelped, and your eyes had fluttered open. You remember debating rolling over, checking on him like you wanted to, but Taehyung was already there doing just that. So you had laid still instead, listened as the two boys clattered around the room. They chatted mindlessly, about the party and tomorrow’s practice. Taehyung had been bragging about some girl he’d slept with last night. “What about you?” he had asked, and your breath caught in your throat. “Did you and…”—a pause, the distinct ruffle of fabric—“finally?”

“What— no,” Jungkook had said, and you felt the bed dip as he sat down on the edge beside you.

Taehyung pushed on with a snort. “Well, did you get lucky at all?”

Jungkook groaned, placed one warm hand on your back soothingly. You tried your best to level out your breathing, relaxed your facial expression as you clung to the sound of his voice. “Just a handjob. Some girl I didn’t even know. Does that count?” You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, felt it beneath your fingertips when you fisted the sheets.

And that curt admission sat in the back of your mind everyday for two years.

You turn to Jimin. “I’ve known Jungkook was a virgin since he first tried to tell me he wasn’t,” you tell him, arms crossed over your chest. “I’m pretty sure everyone knows.”

Jimin lets out a low whistle. “You’re smarter than I thought,” he grins, this conniving little smile that is a genuine cause for concern. “So you’re letting him think you don’t know?” You nod. Jimin’s smile grows. “My, my. If I had known you were this evil, maybe we would’ve hung out more.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not evil,” you insist, flicking him on the nose. Jimin huffs indignantly. “I think what he’s doing is sweet…” you confess, feel your entire body heat up as you recall that wide-eyed look Jungkook had given you just yesterday afternoon, your kiss print fresh on his cheek. “And, well,” you look down at your shoes. “I used to dream about him being my first.”

Jimin groans. “You two make me sick.”

#networkbangtan #kwritersworldnet #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader smut #bts fic #bts smut #bts #jeon jungkook #jeon jeongguk #jjk #mine

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