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#if you wanna have a conversation about whether it's wrong to send those asks
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OKAY, ROMEO — GRAHAM DUNNE
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masterlist
→ pairing: graham dunne x fem!reader
→ description: graham was certain you, in all of your shining y/n glory, could never reciprocate his feelings. you were best friends and he’d decided he’d have to settle for that. but of course he was wrong.
→ warnings: none, just a lil swearing — set pre meeting daisy ! hope this isn’t too sappy and fluffy but i got a lil carried away with it hahahahah
GRAHAM DUNNE (Lead guitarist, The Six): Y/N was just… Just like this breath of fresh air. The minute you met her, it was like you needed to be around her. And that never changed. But I mean, would I have thought she wanted to be with me?
“Why haven’t you just asked her out yet?”
Graham rolled his eyes at his brother, who was quirking his brow across at him as he strummed his guitar to figure out a melody.
He shook his head, “Because I don’t feel like getting my heart ripped out and stomped on by my best friend, maybe?”
He glanced over at where you sat on the couch at the other end of the room, Camila and Karen at your side looking through a photo album that Camila was grasping firmly in her hands as your hands toyed with the camera around your neck.
“Cami is way out of my league, and still somehow we’re here,” Billy smirked, catching her eye for a moment and sending her a jokey wink, to which she giggled as Billy returned his attention to his brother, “You may have a chance.”
You looked up now, following Camila’s gaze but finding your eyes drawn to Graham instead, whose eyes were fixed on you anyway.
Y/N Y/L/N (Friend of The Six): I mean, he never stopped looking at me. Karen used to say it was creepy, but I found it cute. Then again, I did find everything he did cute, I guess. Still do!
You had known The Six pretty much since their inception, and had always been fairly close to each and every one of them. In recent months you and Graham seemed to have gotten closest, though.
You’d spend hours in his room, listening to him practise new Six songs on his guitar, reminding him that he was just as talented as his brother (though if you were truly truthful you’d say he was more talented. Maybe you were biased, though.)
You may not have been in the band, but they all valued your opinion like you were; Like your word was gospel. But none more than Graham.
In the time you’d grown close, you’d found yourself growing increasingly attracted to him. How could you not? But he was the lead guitarist in a band about to hit the big time, so you hardly expected him to want to settle down with his best friend.
If anything, you imagined that seeing Billy settle down would make him want to rebel and do the complete opposite. And you didn’t fancy the heartbreak of getting left behind.
So you just settled for being his best friend — even if he did make it glaringly obvious he felt the same — because, to quote him, you didn’t want your heart ripped out and stomped on by your best friend, whenever it was that you figured he would realise you weren’t enough.
“She feels the same,” Billy put his guitar down for a moment, leaning in to nudge his brother, “Cami said she got it out of her the other day. Just thinks you don’t wanna settle down like me,” Graham noted the strain on his face when he said those words, “And that we’re all going to leave her behind when the album’s out… For some reason.”
Graham furrowed his brows.
He wasn’t sure whether he believed his brother.
GRAHAM DUNNE (Lead guitarist, The Six): Like I said… Why would I? This is Y/N we’re talking about!
Y/N Y/L/N (Friend of The Six): I heard that conversation. Heard Graham tell him he’d never leave me behind. And then I figured, if he’s not going to say anything to me then maybe I should just go ahead and do it.
GRAHAM DUNNE (Lead guitarist, The Six): I remember every fucking minute of the rest of that day.
“Graham,” you smiled over at him, bouncing out of your seat with a grin as you sauntered over to him and he tried desperately not to melt under your gaze, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
He nodded, practically leaping out of his seat and following you into the next room.
“What’s up?” he asked, a shy smile on his face as his eyes scanned over your features to try and gauge what you wanted to talk about.
“God, this is so awkward,” you giggled, avoiding eye contact at first, “Suddenly regretting my life choices here.”
Graham’s face twisted in confusion for a moment, “You know you can tell— You can tell me anything.”
You bit your lip with a nod, silent for a moment before just fucking going for it, “How do you feel about me?”
“How do I— How do I feel? About you?”
“Like… Do you see me as just your friend?”
“Well, you’re—,” he sighed, looking down at his feet for a second before catching your gaze again and clearing his throat, “No, I don’t. I don’t want to, anyway.”
You fought back the smile threatening to take over your entire face, trying to take in his reply.
“Okay, good.”
“Good?”
“Yeah.”
“Right, good.”
KAREN SIRKO (Keyboardist, The Six): And then he finally fucking got it and kissed her.
WARREN RHODES (Drummer, The Six): We were all listening through the door. Obviously.
Graham’s lips met yours like he feared that if he didn’t kiss you now, he might never again get the chance.
Within milliseconds you were kissing him back, your hands reaching up to tangle in his curly hair as his hands found the small of your back to pull you into him.
You pulled away briefly to shout, “Fuck off!” at your friends — who weren’t trying very hard to be quiet and pretend they weren’t listening in — before leaning back in to Graham’s kiss like it was the most natural action.
“I really like you, Y/N,” Graham panted when you finally parted, eyes raking over your face to search for your reaction, “Like, really like you.”
You smiled up slightly at him, suddenly feeling shy again under his gaze.
“Like I said, good,” you hummed, briefly pecking his lips again with a giggle, “I really like you too. I’ve been waiting for you to say something, but I got tired of waiting. I’ve liked you for fuckin’ ages.”
The smile on his face was a work of art, and you couldn’t help yourself — you clicked on your camera and lifted it to take a photo of the beaming man before you.
He rolled his eyes when you were done, raising his hands to take the camera from you and lift its strap off your neck. He copied you, lifting the camera to his eye and snapping a photo.
As he lowered it he smirked, “In my expert opinion, that’s a good one.”
“Mine’s better. Can’t wait to get it developed and hang it on my wall to stare at when you lot run off on tour, eh?”
Graham scoffed, “It’ll have to be pinned to the wall in your bunk. If you think I—we are going on tour without you, you’re nuts, Y/N.”
You grinned, kissing him again before pulling back shyly, “Are you sure?”
“Y/N, I’d want you there even if it wasn’t as my girl,” the pad of his thumb was on your jaw now, grazing your jawbone as his eyes never left yours for a second, “Buuut, if you’d come along as my girl that would be a hell of a bonus.”
“I’d love that, Dunne.”
“Perfect.”
You were silent for a moment, gazing into each other’s eyes like lovelorn puppies.
“Billy said you were worried I didn’t want to settle down or something,” Graham looked nervous again now, his eyebrows drawing together as he briefly moved back to look at you less closely, “That’s not true. I mean, I’m not saying I’m in a rush to get like, married or anything. But I want to be with you, whatever happens with the band. And if in future…”
“Okay, Romeo,” you giggled, interrupting him and placing your hand on his chest, “I know what you’re saying. And I believe you, don’t worry. Let’s just see what happens, yeah?”
“Yeah. See what happens.”
GRAHAM DUNNE (Lead guitarist, The Six): We did get married.
Y/N Y/L/N (Friend of The Six): I didn’t take his last name. But just after Billy got out of rehab — we didn’t want to do it without him there — we got married. Everything worked out pretty perfect, really.
GRAHAM DUNNE (Lead guitarist, The Six): *Holding up the film photos you took the day you got together* Your Aunt Y/N is the love of my life, kid. Always has been.
———
i am such a fuckin sap !!!!!! anyway i hope you enjoyed, feel free to request imagines for anyone from djats or any of the other fandoms i write for.
i’m back, babyyyy
in the meantime, here is my masterlist :-)
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apomaro-mellow · 9 months
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Part 4
Robin wouldn’t call the walk home pleasant, but it did give her time to think. Time to second guess everything she had done. Time to rehearse the conversation she was going to have with Steve over the phone. And then time to remember he’d be with Eddie tonight and with any luck, putting the moves on him.
When she got home, she dialed halfway and stopped about three times before calling anyway. When Steve picked up, he was breathing a little hard.
“Please tell me I just interrupted you and Eddie running a marathon”, Robin groaned as she fell back against her bed.
“You knew what might be happening when you called. By the way why are you calling? Your date with Nancy finished already?”
“Oh we’re finished alright.”
“That doesn’t sound good. What happened?”
“Are you sure it’s more important than Eddie’s blue balls right now?”
“Robin you’re way more important than Eddie’s balls.”
“Hey! I heard that Harrington!
“She’s more important than your dick too!”
Robin felt her bottom lip quiver a little. “Steve, you have no idea how much that means to me.”
“I mean it. If you wanna talk I can send Eddie home and you can come. Or I’ll go to you.”
“Your courting suitor won’t mind being booted?”
It took a moment for Steve to answer and Robin worried that she might actually be getting on Eddie’s bad side.
“No, I don’t think he’ll mind”, Steve said. “I’m like....85% sure he’s super into me and will let me get away with anything.”
Robin felt a bit of weight lift off her shoulders. Sounded like things had gone well for them tonight. “We can talk tomorrow. You know, when he’s not humping your leg.”
“First thing in the morning”, Steve promised. “Good night.”
“Night, Steve.”
That left Robin to wallow. Or rather to let her thoughts race one right after the other. And she didn’t want to forget when her brain made a particularly good point so she wrote them all down.
When Steve came over to her house the next morning, she had a handful of papers.
“These contain everything that can happen regarding my decision to either forgive her or not, date her or not, or move to Connecticut.”
“You’ve truly covered all the bases”, Steve said, settling in for a long morning.
-----------------------------
Eddie’s first instinct that morning was to find Nancy. Actually, it was to kiss Steve all over his body (the inner elbow was an oft-ignored area) but since Steve was busy, he figured he’d seek out Nancy and figure out what happened.
Something went wrong and he felt partially to blame for it. He was the one who switched up the plan.
Not wanting to cross paths with Ted Wheeler or get held up by Mike, Eddie climbed his way to Nancy’s window and tapped. Her window thrust open and she let out a sigh.
“I thought you were Steve.”
“Good morning to you too, sunshine-whoa.” Eddie paused when he got two feet on the floor, seeing an array of papers on Nancy’s bed. 
Nancy turned her gaze to the mess on her bed. “I know how it looks-”
“It looks like you spent all night working on college essay when you should’ve been making out with Buckley.”
“They’re not ess-did you and Steve make out last night?”
“Mmm, and then some”, Eddie smiled dreamily at the memory.
“Unbelievable”, Nancy began to pace around. “So you just bypassed all the awkwardness, whether he’s gay or not, and any sort of history you two had and went right to jumping his bones?”
“You did say those would all be miniscule obstacles. And you were right!”, Eddie threw his hands up. “And you’re not celebrating with me. What happened last night?”
Nancy sat on her bed, right on top of the papers. “I mean how can I have baggage with someone I never even dated?”
Slowly, Eddie sat down next to her, waiting for her to continue.
“Last night, Robin asked why me and Steve broke up. And apparently, my answer painted me as an unfeeling, manipulative bitch and she walked out on our date.”
“Robin didn’t say that?”, Eddie’s brow furrowed.
“No, no of course she didn’t but I’m pretty good at reading between the lines.”
“Or projecting and putting words into people’s mouths.”
“It doesn’t matter. This was a stupid idea”, Nancy got up and started balling the paper up.
“Hey hey what’re all these anyway? If they’re not essays what were you doing last night?”
“They’re....”, Nancy took a breath. “They’re scenarios, okay? I decided to take a page out of your book and jot down what might happen. If I apologize to Steve, maybe we can fully mend our friendship, Robin will give me a second chance. Or I’ll apologize, Robin forgives me but still doesn’t want to date me. Or like a bunch of...other ideas...”
“This one just says ‘move to Paris’.”
“Oh like you’ve never thought of moving somewhere and changing your identity.”
“This seems like an....extreme reaction to one bad date.”
“It wasn’t just one bad date. This is...it’s something major.”
“You care about Robin that much, huh?”
“And Steve!”
Eddie’s eyes widened at that.
“I care about him. I know that might be hard to believe but I never meant to hurt him back then. And there was just never a good time to explain everything that I had been feeling, every choice that I made and-what are you doing?”, Nancy asked when Eddie stood up from the bed.
“Hold that thought.” He grabbed Nancy’s phone off the hook and dialed a number. “Hello Mrs. Buckley, is Robin there? Yes, and I’m sure Steve Harrington is with her? Of course. Thank you.”
Nancy went over to him, eyes wide. “What are you doing?!”, she asked again with more urgency.
“Don’t be rude, I’m on the phone”, Eddie said before giving said device his full attention. Steve must’ve answered because Eddie said “Hey baby” in a way that made Nancy feel like she shouldn’t be listening.
She stood there helplessly while Eddie spoke on the phone.
“What’re you two peapods up to? ....Really? What a coincidence me and Big Wheel are doin’ the same...Yeah?... Sounds perfect?... Say, in an hour?..Gotcha.” While Eddie talked, he ignored all of Nancy’s questioning facial expressions which were all incredibly emotive.
“Oh! I almost forgot. I remembered what I was trying to say last night. You and Robin are the otters, but you and and Nancy are the hermit crabs.”
“Eddie what the fuck?”, Nancy whispered in a hiss.
Eddie turned towards the wall as his voice got a little deeper. “Oh yeah?..Would you like that baby? OW! Okay Nancy!”, Eddie exclaimed when she hit him with an encyclopedia. “Bye, see you at the place. Mwahmwahmwah”, Eddie kissed the receiver of the phone both to fluster Steve and to annoy Nancy more.
“God you’re worse than Mike.”
“You mean better, right?”
“What the hell was that call about?”
“The four of us are gonna sit down and have a little parley.”
Nancy was regretting putting this plan into action every minute that passed.
Part 6
I’ve thought about who their fifth person should be that acts as a mediator and I think I’ve come up with the funniest solution but imma keep it to myself until I actually write the next part. And maybe if u guys are good I’ll post steve and eddie’s full night
Tag Team
@goodolefashionedloverboi @rainydays35 @desert-fern @alienace @homohomohoe @savory-babby @gothwifehotchner @gregre369 @estrellami-1 @l0st-strawberry @dreamlandforever 
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larcenywrites · 5 months
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Talk more about the whole Tony Stark and the couch/guest bedroom thing? Like when and how does he decide that he's gonna sleep there, and is it just for a day or like how long does it last? Would you ever send him to sleep on the couch? (if yes, under what circumstances, like, why would you send him to the couch? And for how long?) And how does he feel about getting kicked out, how does he react, how does he try to be accepted back into the bedroom?
Idk I kinda got carried away-
I’m sure it doesn’t happen very often aside from the fact that Tony does occasionally fall asleep on the couch, bathtub, office chair, snd of course in the lab (and maybe even on a table in the lab), whether it’s because he’s kept working through his exhaustion or because he’s sick or sometimes because he’s been drinking too much. I’m sure he’s even fallen asleep in a chaise lounge by the pool some nights! Probably even in or on a floaty in the pool!
But moving on, there’s some occasions where it’s not an accident :( or an innocent decision where he was just in the lab and he was too tired to even go upstairs, or on the nights he felt a bit insecure about that arc reactor and felt bad that it was so bright. Now, Tony is… a lot of things. A lot of difficult things… one of those things being that he’s difficult! He can be pissy, stubborn, snappy, sarcastic, passive-aggressive, and snarky, which means that when fights do happen, they can probably get out of control rather quickly when he’s feeling defensive and attacked, and that’s the only way he knows how to respond. It’s not entirely his fault, but he should also probably learn to grow out of it too, and that’s not anyone else’s fault. He’s definitely not as bad the older he gets, but pre iron man between becoming CEO and Afghanistan will probably be the hardest time to be in a relationship with him, and early stages of post iron man will also be difficult when you include his lack of self-preservation and erratic and dangerous new behavior. Oh, and he’s always right.
Pre-Iron Man, an argument could really be around anything and he might start acting out, especially when he’s so young and fiery and confused and depressed and a whole list of problems. He doesn’t like feeling controlled, so stop confronting him about the drinking and asking him to stop. He doesn’t like feeling like he’s in the wrong, so stop probing about the weapons program and making him think about what and who they’re being used on. He gets testy and flighty, and while you may think he’s just mad snd doesn’t want to see you when he doesn’t come to bed or find him getting blankets on the couch or settling in a nearby guest room, he just doesn’t want to confront you. Because you’re probably right, first of all, whatever it was about, and seeing you kinda makes him face whatever demons the conversation brought up :/ and he’s scared you’ll bring it up again :/ so, even tho it honestly sucks and maybe he’s a little scared of the dark because he’s never actually been in this room properly before now, he’s going to be dramatic and sleep in another room. Well, probably not much sleep. And he also doesn’t wanna face you because he does feel guilty, believe it or not. He’s sparing you from having to look at him! He’s giving you your own space and leave and quiet! At least, he tells himself that to feel like he’s doing something right, and something right by you. It typically won’t last for more than that night, and maybe two if he unintentionally falls asleep elsewhere, but while he may apologize, he’ll probably never say that you were right. Once he comes back from work the next day, probably really late if he can get away with it tbh (and otherwise he’s just super quiet and keeps to himself where he can) he’ll stalk his way into the bedroom and carefully climb back into bed. He does hate it when you’re mad at him, and may just try to act like nothing has happened and try to cuddle 🙄 And while that’s pretty toxic of him, sometimes it’s easier to go along with it and move on until next time :/ though, he might still say he’s sorry, at least? If you do bring it up again, try to do so pretty quietly and gently. He’ll still probably just say he’s sorry and try to move on, even though that’s not entirely the point. Now, if it’s a situation where the argument ended in him being pretty mean, and you definitely tell him that you don’t even wanna look at him and to fuck off somewhere else, he’ll definitely realize his mistake right then and there and try to fix it. Probably to no avail, however. Because when he gets mean he can definitely push it too far. Talking about how you’re being nosy, controlling, finding a problem in nothing. Oh, you’re concerned about the weapons program? You sure don’t have an issue with spending the money it brings in. And ya know, he can’t really blame you for kicking him out. He’ll stutter your name and struggle to find anything to say but maybe he’s just stalling time. He’ll still feel shitty when he’s lying wherever he’s gone alone, but the difference is that now he’s kinda holding a grudge because you kicked him out! But he probably won’t last the night :( he’s restless and anxious and guilty (as he should be!) and he’s really gotta get it off his chest (as if he’s the victim too!). He’ll trudge in rather loudly and stand over you and say your name until you wake up, and that probably has you even grumpier now… but he will apologize and even admit you were right. He gets carried away, and his aggressive defensiveness isn’t exactly his fault, but that also doesn’t exactly excuse it either. He does try to do more of the things he probably used to do more often, like bouquets with promises of love written on them or spending more time upstairs. And he really wouldn’t blame you if you needed a break from him at this point, and maybe it would even be a good idea, but he’s really not sure if he could take it right now :( of course. He’s not always like this! In fact, it is probably not that often! But maybe that’s what makes it so much worse when it does happen.
Though, when he’s older and closer to that momentous trip overseas, still just a businessman, he’s definitely not going to be as bad. But just as he seems to be getting better, of course now there’s whole new problems. Those early stages of being a superhero will bring plenty of strife, and bring back plenty of that stress-induced defensiveness that’s meant to be his protective barrier for a few minutes that causes more harm than good. He’s being reckless! He’s being obsessive! Isn’t this a little crazy? It’s stressing you out more than anything, and he’s not really paying any mind or to his health, his property, his life, you! And he never has a proper answer, just more excuses and combative words. He’ll just stay down here in the lab for your sake. He’ll keep working on it and prove it’s fine! It’s going to help everyone! You, him, the world! Wasn’t that what he was supposed to do? He even shut down the weapons program! Wasn’t that what you wanted? Again, he’s confused and frustrated, and now he hurts everywhere— can’t you cut him some slack?! Everyone’s a victim here tbh, so it’ll probably end with you both apologizing. You may not understand fully yet as to why, but obviously this whole thing means a lot to him, but also he means a lot to you! He probably been avoiding you down in this lab for days, and now he’s just tired :( just take him to bed. Tony’s been through way too much by now, and you’ve both been through a lot together, so there’s probably not going to be many more escalating fights after this, and definitely no kicking him out. It would really take a toll of him, and now there’s no telling what he’ll do out there with an unclear head and those feelings he hates so much. Besides, there are definitely better ways to handle these things, especially when the problem is not longer his pettiness. If anything you’ll be begging him to come to bed! Which may still result in an argument, but something will sort of suddenly changed? It’s not like it used to be. In fact, it’s probably almost a little sad. It’s still the same bouquets with love notes and warm baths, but it’s… different. And unfortunately, it may have taken a near-death experience to get him to finally mellow out.
But from here and on, he definitely learns to be more communicative. If something is wrong, it finally gets talked about. It’s still not very easy for him to find words, nor is it easy for him to admit he’s wrong, but he’ll do it! He’s worked on a lot of things by now, and has more symbolically moved on from things, such as finally removing the arc reactor. He definitely doesn’t purposely hide anymore! And he’s learned to control his temper and bite his tongue— with you, at least 😅
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remedy-ships-it · 2 months
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pre-relationship: 2, 4. general: 4, 7. love: 2, 3, 8. domestic life: 4, 10 ! :>
hii jerome!! thank you for sending an ask, i love seeing your ships :]
PRE-RELATIONSHIP:
2 has been answered here.
4. Who felt romantic feelings first?
When we met it was a crush-turned-friendship kind of thing. Like we're shy around one another and find each other cute but then we become friends and the initial attraction kind of ebbs. But then months pass of us getting to know each other and I'm like dang he's kind of perfect actually I wanna kiss him oh no.
So yeah, me, most likely. It would take Spencer a bit longer to recognize those emotions and accept them, but I see us falling for one another at the same pace. It just takes us a while to do anything about it.
GENERAL:
4. Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)?
Spencer actually has a lot more experience than me in the romance department, believe it or not. In canon, he literally made out with an actress in a pool in season 1 lol so I definitely wasn't his first kiss. There's not much said about his romantic history pre-show, but I imagine he definitely dated around a little here and there but hadn't had a real long-term relationship before me. And, well, he wasn't my first relationship but he was my first kiss among other things to put it simply.
7. Who takes the lead in social situations?
We're both socially awkward, introverted nerds (he's an INTP, whereas I'm an INFP) so it honestly varies. Our job calls for us to start conversations whether they're uncomfortable or not, but if we're paired up in the field he'll usually take initiative at first but he lets me get a word in as well. But really, we function pretty fine in social situations, we can just be a little weird sometimes in ways others might not understand. We both won't hesitate to step in and stand up for each other if it comes to it, though.
However, I'm definitely the one to (maybe not confidently) go up to a server with him if they got his order wrong. If they got my order wrong, I wouldn't want to be a bother, and he's the same way. So we can overcome our social anxiety if it means doing something for the other, if I'm making any sense.
LOVE:
2. What are their primary love languages?
My personal love languages are gift giving (primarily) and physical touch, I think. I absolutely love buying or (especially) making things for my loved ones if I can't afford to spend money. Honestly if I was rich I'd be buying people stuff all the time, and it makes me so happy when people enjoy the thing I made them. I also love giving and receiving hugs, having my hand held, cuddles and the likes, but I can be touch averse at times depending on the person. Spencer is the same way.
I think Spencer's would be quality time (primarily) and physical touch as well. I've noticed through my binge of CM that he's often inviting his friends out to events and stuff. I believe conversations count as quality time, so he'd really appreciate someone who's willing to listen to him go on for as long as he wants and do the same in turn. And despite being a total germophobe, he loves receiving hugs and loving gestures from people he's close to. He's secretly very touch-starved.
3. Who uses cheesy pick-up lines?
I do on occasion just because I love watching him try not to smile and roll his eyes at me. We'd probably make stupid Doctor Who references at each other ("Are you a weeping angel? 'Cause I could stare at you all day.")
But Spencer goes all out with his, and I could see him being especially corny on anniversaries or romantic holidays. He even flirts in other languages and leaves me to scramble to try and figure out what the heck he just said to me.
8. Who’s better at comforting the other?
I feel like we can both get kind of panicky and awkward when it comes to comforting people who are upset, but when it comes to it all we really need is someone to be there for us and listen if we need to vent or just hold us if we need to cry. So I don't think either of us would be "better" at it, you know? We just know what to do for each other.
DOMESTIC LIFE:
4 & 10 have been answered ^^
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tadpoledyke · 4 months
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what happened with your ex? if you wanna share..?
Gather round children it's time to spill the tea
So my ex is this white country butch and I loved her so much. We met in September 2022, Made it official a little after Xmas same year.
2023 was a hard year for me, dealing with my cousin's death was rough and I was struggling with all my college classes. So obviously mental health in the shitter.
Two weeks before our one year anniversary, it's the day of an event I had been looking forward to for months. She comes over while I'm getting ready and says we need to talk after we come back. I say why wait just do it now. You're not breaking up with me are you? Silence.
She explains about how my support needs are a lot, she feels more like my carer than my girlfriend (all things I brought up with her before and she waved away previously btw)
Does the whole "it's not you it's me" thing. She says I made the year the best year of her life, but she just isn't attracted to me anymore. And hasn't been for a while. Ouchie.
So we break up. Cool.
My housemate tells me that before she dumped me my ex had confided in him, telling him she's so scared of me getting upset about things. Basically convinced him I'm abusive. (After talking to a lot of my mates I came to the conclusion that I was in fact not an abusive partner)
About 3 months go by and I develop some old film reels. There's some really gorgeous photos of my ex. Like, objectively. Just nice pictures. See for yourself.
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After debating whether or not to send them to her, my best friend finally convinces me I should. Because everyone deserves to have nice pictures of themselves.
So I do.
She replies, praising my talent and we start to have a conversation. A pretty normal conversation until she starts to get a bit flirty with me, saying it's a joke. Which is fine in small amounts but she's laying it on thick.
She says she wants to give film photography a shot and I remind her of a camera I bought her but she got frustrated at and abandoned at my house. Tell her she can come by and grab it anytime, and even give the cats a pet. She's delighted and says
"I would ask to marry you if we weren't already broken up"
I'm immediately uncomfortable and wish I never invited her over. I make up some dumb excuse and she ends up not coming over.
A week or so later, my friend is scrolling on Instagram and sees one of those photosets from my ex. She's kissing a girl in the first one. And swipe a couple more along and there's an incredibly graphic picture of a kangaroo that the both of them ran into with their car.
Now kangaroo roadkill is very common in Australia, just like deer in America but it's definitely not okay to post without any warnings...
My indigenous friends are all pretty taken aback and when one of them confronts her about it she replies "what's wrong, I'm just posting me and my girlfriend and the weekend we had" new girlfriend says "yeah it's a real shame what happened to my car"
Making me realize this bitch was flirting it up with me while she had a girlfriend too... AND doesn't give a fuck about Aboriginal people ... It's sickening...
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illicien · 10 months
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🫐🍉🍐
🫐 What’s your favorite underrated thing in your fandom? (A ship that only you seem to write for, a character there’s almost no fics about, a trope that criminally hasn’t been written yet, etc.)
Oooo, this one is a bit tough because I've recently jumped ship and haven't done nearly enough reading to feel like I can say anything in particular where WinterBaron is concerned.
Heck, I'm not even sure IronStrangeFrost is technically underrated anymore; it just exists.
YOU KNOW WHAT? I know. I keep reading fun fics that have shenanigans ensuing that result in Winter Soldier Bucky being around and Bucky having no idea what to do with him - I wanna see more of people bringing the Winter Soldier to Doctor Strange and being like "hello, time shenanigans have occurred, or reality shenanigans, I dunno, but the Wakandans have been pissed with me since I broke Zemo outta jail and I could still use help dealing with this asshole."
Does that answer this one? I don't even know. Maybe that's just something I'll have to write for myself. This is what happens when I recently jumped ship and am still more familiar with writing Stephen Strange than anyone else.
🍉 Do you prefer to write short fics or long fics? Multichaptered works or single ones? Why?
I actually genuinely prefer to write multichaptered / long fics. I really love world-building, and the build-up to a relationship and all the stepping stones that made it work? One of my favourite things. I love a good slow burn, whether that's a couple taking six+ years to get together, or having to find one another again in an entirely different life. My brain just doesn't function well when I feel like I have to skip those building blocks. People who can do that are just. Great. Wonderful. Amazing.
🍐 Is there anything in canon that you absolutely hate and love to fix in fics? A wrong choice made, a fuck-up in characterization, a misunderstanding never cleared up, a conversation never shown onscreen, etc...
I feel like all I need to say is "I've been in the MCU fandom for a very long time" to answer this. When is the last time I genuinely agreed with how canon handled something? I have no idea. But I will forever stand by my annoyance with the fact that GOTG 1 blatantly pointed out that there was the ability to share the power when using the fucking stones, and it just never came up again. And that's not even to speak of the number of characters they just...
Plenty of you have seen the "he's a ghost!!" post about Bucky and just how fucking not subtle in the slightest he was as the Winter Soldier, so yeah, I reject that portrayal and prefer to stick with 'they told us he was a ghost, he's a fucking ghost' method of things.
I'm not even going to begin to touch on the way that MoM left me rolling my eyes at the fact that they were just retreading the same character growth story as the first movie with Stephen.
I don't even know how to start talking about the fact that Tony "I Am Iron Man/The Suit and I Are One" Stark somehow wound up dating a woman who was distinctly trying to separate him from his suits.
SO ANYWAYS. YEAH. Look, there's no one specific thing. Canon is a grab bag that I will casually disregard at a moment's notice if it feels like it just doesn't make sense. (See, this is why I should stick to writing AUs.)
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white--moon · 2 years
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He stills, brows raising. It’s not exactly a surprise, but it’s not not a surprise to hear his hollow say they’re on the same side. They’ve been on the same side for a while, but hearing it out loud seems like a step. “Okay.” He does relax. 
Ichigo thinks it’s a pretty large agreement and he’s a little annoyed he has to remind him which one. Like it’s not important enough to remember. Like it’s not one agreements Ichigo’s ever made. And it makes Ichigo question whether he’s overreacted with all this. Maybe it was just a joke or a threat. He scowls. “It wasn’t much of an agreement, but I thought you’d at least be able to recall it. The agreement about you having some kind of ownership over me.” He swipes a hand through his hair and pushes out a breath. “And I didn’t send him after you. I was trying to be honest about what we have going on. Seems like telling a person you’re interested in that you belong to someone else is a good relationship step. He didn’t like it. But I didn’t do anything wrong.” Ichigo looks away. “I know.”
He snorts. It’s true enough, but he says. “Because it’s awkward. Being hollow seems like it’s more your thing. Feels like trespassing.” Wishful thinking? He hopes not. “At least if you’re bad at it too, I feel like I have a valid excuse for sucking at it.” He blinks. “Wait. What? When? You know him?” When did that happen? Shiro isn’t missing body parts and neither is Grimmjow. He doesn’t know if he believes it. But it also sheds more light on this invitation he’s supposed to be giving if so. He’s sort of undecided about this being a good or bad development. “I don’t know. Everyone is making it sound easy. It doesn’t seem simple or easy at all to me. I take my obligations seriously. I want to know what I’m getting into.”
He fixes his attention more fully on Shiro, still —on some level— in flinch mode in case his hollow decides he doesn’t like Ichigo after all. Except that’s the opposite of what Shiro says. “Oh.” He relaxes again. “Well, that’s… considerate.” He smirks some. “I wasn’t sure you cared.” He’s kind of touched in a weird, off put, mildly alarmed way. “I guess if he eats me, that would be fine. I’m not sure I’d be very forgiving about being eaten alive. If he just kills me, you should probably just let Seireitei handle it and enjoy your freedom.” 
He nods, motion small but sharp. "Ok." Good.
That annoyance radiates off Ichigo, but he's dealing with his own, somewhat alarm-stained annoyance. It's not even that the prospect of Grimmjow getting pissed and making a nuisance of himself bothers Shiro all that much, it's all the bullshit that would come with it. Beating up Ichigo's wanna be boyfriend probably wouldn't go over well. But somehow the agreement Ichigo did tell said arrancar is both better and worse than the other agreements he'd thought of first. "I recall it." His voice is a little monotone. "You... didn't think maybe that was an important part of the conversation when I asked what exactly had been said?" Ok. Well now he knows what probably crawled up Grimmjow's ass. It was him. Wait. Yikes. "You didn't intentionally send him after me, but you did turn me into a rival." His hisses out a breath, crossing his arms. He knows that wasn't Ichigo's intention, and he knows those intentions were actually good and altruistic or whatever. Ichigo's just trying to make sure all the weirdness that surrounds him -and Shiro- is on the table up front, which is very fair and probably for the better, but also complicated. The look on Ichigo's face when he looks away and doesn't even get upset over Shiro's threats makes the hollow flash teeth in annoyance. Annoyance derived from being entirely unable to be annoyed for any real good reason "Fine. If he decides to come to me, I'll try to keep it civil. If he gets his ass kicked, it's on him."
He grunts a laugh. "I'd hope so, since I am a hollow. You're more of an honorary hollow, maybe. You're welcome for that." Not that he actually thinks Ichigo likes being in a good place with a bunch of hollows, or all the shit he's had to deal with because of Shiro (before or after their split). He frowns though, "What? I'm not bad at bein' a hollow, I'm just different." What kind of insult is that? He's not bad at it... But Ichigo's getting ahead of himself. "Whoa, easy there. I don't know him. But d'you think, in this little city, two powerful hollows haven't crossed paths?" Two powerful creatures that are both inexplicably drawn to one shinigami/human, at that. He waves Ichigo's concern off with a careless motion. "That's 'cause you're talkin' to hollows about it. Everything is various shades of black and white and sometimes a splash of red." His mouth tugs downward thoughtfully, "Maybe you should talk to someone who knows a lot about hollows instead of an actual hollow. Maybe you could get it put into words better that way." Because everything he does know about it is purely instinctive and it doesn't translate well to someone who doesn't have those same instincts.
Honestly, he expected Ichigo to take his threat poorly. He figured Ichigo would give him some 'don't take revenge on the guy i want to be with' type bullshit and he was prepared to let Ichigo know he didn't give a shit about his morals and would do it anyway. Pale brows arch slightly in his surprise, before a muted smirk tugs at his features. "Don't get sentimental about it." He scoffs, but it's full of amusement. "Oh no, I'd eat him either way. It'd be a waste of a powerful meal to let Seireitei deal with him."
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corbinite · 3 years
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people trolling d*iryisntscary with absolute nonsense asks is honestly pretty funny but most of y’all only reblog their responses because you think the anons are serious and use it for more masturbatory “tumblr is full of unhinged people, yikes” nonsense
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thefanficmonster · 3 years
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Infatuation
Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)
Warnings: Swearing
Genre: FLUFF, RPF (Real Person Fic)
Summary: It’s not a secret that Corpse prefers taking care of his hair himself rather than going to a hair salon to get it trimmed and/or tampered. However, he only has so much knowledge of how to properly do it without having to obliterate his budget. Luckily, his girlfriend comes to his rescue.
Requested by Anon. Hi lovely! Thank you so much for the incredibly fluffy request! I’ve been very pumped to write it and now here it finally is - so sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post it but I still hope you come across it and give it a read! Love, Vy ❤
“Um, what are you doing?“
I just walked into Corpse’s apartment to find him barricaded in the bathroom, giving himself a hair appointment. We were supposed to have a chill night in watching movies, but it seems to me like those plans will either have to be delayed or canceled, given the chaotic state both Corpse and his bathroom are in. I mean, how dumb was I to expect he was actually doing his hair justice when he told me he styled it himself? Why didn’t that immediately raise an army of red flags in my head and lead me to question his methods?
I’m honestly quite jealous of Corpse’s hair. It’s always so soft and silky and no matter how much or how little effort he’s put in it, it always looks good: either evidently carefully styled or boyishly messy, it leaves me with heart-eyes regardless. But to see him massacre it like this, it makes me wish I could report it as a crime.
“Ain’t obvious?“ He sounds rather frustrated and I feel at least slightly better due to this fact. He deserves to be as frustrated as I am by the sight of the crap he’s doing. “Sorry, you’re gonna have to wait for me for...a little while. I just need to get this under control and, um, clean the mess. Sorry for ruining your night like this, babe. I-I really wasn’t planning on it to take this long but I forgot to buy one of the products and I thought I could wing it without it but...I very clearly can’t so...“
“Please, stop talking. I don’t need to know what sins you’ve committed - if I do I’ll probably have to give you the silent treatment for like a week or so.“ I call out to him as I quickly skip over to the kitchen to leave the food I bought on my way over before returning to the bathroom and carefully taking a step inside, mindful of where there are hair strands on the tiles. Even severed, his hair is beautiful and I have a ton of respect for it - ok fine, I adore it. Corpse definitely doesn’t appreciate it properly. I walk over to the shower, reaching out to the two shelves inside which are lined with different types of hair products. “Oh fuck...“ I let out the whisper without even realizing it because I’m so stunned by the brands I see on those shelves. “Corpse, um, what the actual fuck?”
He turns to me, eyes wide and terrified because of my menacing tone. “What? What is it?” His gaze searches the spot where mine was just pointed at, looking for anything that could’ve provoked such a reaction from me. Seeing nothing but the hair products, he meets my deadly glare yet again, “What’s wrong?”
Alright, this man-child needs some serious help
“I’ll tell you what’s wrong.“ I say, stomping towards the exit of the bathroom, “You’re gonna stay here and wait for me to come back and don’t you DARE, even touch your hair, let alone bring a pair of scissors or any chemical near it. Copy?“
“Copied and pasted, ma’am.“ He salutes me, knowing better than to ask questions when I enter my commander role. There are quite a few things that set me off into this bossy-ass persona, and hair mistreatment is most definitely one of them. Thing is, Corpse doesn’t know that. Well, he didn’t know that, pretty sure he’s guessed it by now.
Feeling myself soften at his obedience and trust, I give him a smile and a wink over my shoulder as I go to grab my bag and leave the apartment to complete my mission, “Good boy.”
                                                              *  *  *
“Isn’t that a lot better?“ I ask, gently running my fingers through Corpse’s freshly cut, washed and dried hair. I’ve spent a good five minutes just smoothing through it with my fingers. I bet he’s expecting me to say ‘my precious‘ at any moment now, and trust me it’s tempting, but I still don’t, I won’t give him the pleasure of predicting my actions. Wow, we’ve really reached that level of being familiar with one another that I predict that he’s predicting what I’m gonna do next. While I’m a guessing game for him, I tend to think of myself as more of an open book. You just gotta be fluent in the language it’s written in to understand it.
I’ve gone off-topic, my bad.
“Yeah, you’re a lot less scary now.“ He tells me, his hand finding mine in his hair and taking it to his lips to place a kiss on my knuckles.
We’re positioned so that we’re in front of the bathroom mirror with Corpse seated in a chair in front of me and I’m for once in my life towering over him from behind. Our height difference was threatening to be a hinderance in my work on his hair, but we easily figured it out.
I can’t help but laugh, “You know what I meant.“ I curl one of his already curly strands around the pointer finger of the hand that’s still wandering around the soft dark curls while the other remains in his gentle hold, resting on his shoulder.
“And you know what I meant.“ He shifts in his seat to look at me directly, not via the mirror, “Since when do you have a hair infatuation?“
I roll my eyes and retract my hands, defensively folding my arms over my chest, “It’s not an infatuation with hair, dummy. It’s an infatuation with your hair.” I correct him, doing quick work of styling the stray strands that fall over his forehead and eyes. “I really like your hair, you already know that. I can’t handle the thought you’re doing such a shitty job taking care of it.”
He shrugs, furrowing his brows, “Hey, I was buying top-shelf products, cost me a fortune every month, my hair was being treated like royalty.”
I roll my eyes once again, “High price doesn’t always equal high quality, Corpse. Did you ever stop to read what was in those products?” I don’t let him answer, I don’t need him to confirm what I already know. “Even if you did - which you didn’t - you wouldn’t know what each of those ingredients do to your hair. You see, taking care of hair, especially hair like yours, takes patience and knowledge. It’s practically an art form. It’s not like you can just buy any product that has ‘suitable for curly hair’ on it. There’s a lot more to that.”
It’s only after I finish my monologue that I realize he’s looking at me with amazed amusement in his gaze, almost like a parent listening to their kid talk about their wish of becoming an astronaut. “Since when do you know so much about hair? You’ve been using the same shampoo and conditioner since I know you and now you wanna lecture me on hair care?”
I raise an eyebrow at him, exasperated by his stubbornness on the matter, “Who said being consistent with your hair products is a bad thing? You know, frequent changing of brands has the potential of being damaging as much as aiding.” I explain with the most amount of patience I can muster, now taking over the parent role myself, “And as for your previous question, I know so much because my mother is a hairdresser.”
His eyes widen in surprise. I can practically see the gears in his brain turning as he tries to recall if I’ve ever told him this before.
“How come I don’t know that?“ He asks finally after a long moment of silence. “Why haven’t you told me?”
“You ask that as though I just tell you things like that on the regular. Did you also want me to drop the info that my dad’s a mechanic in passing conversation about video games? Cause that’s a little hard to shoehorn in....“ He cuts off my sarcastic rambling with a brief peck to the lips. He’s the only person allowed to shut me up, and only like that. Anything else will earn him either an earful or a silent treatment. 
Just kidding....unless...
“So, does that mean you’re continuing the family business?“ he asks when he pulls away, “I mean, you’re technically my personal hairdresser now.“
I furrow my brows playfully, “Wait, what? Since when?”
“Since I hired you approximately an hour ago.“ He beams up at me, satisfied that I’ve fallen in his trap.
“And what about my payment?“ I ask, narrowing my eyes at him.
He looks to be contemplating for a second before he stands up from the chair, taking my hand in his leading me out of the bathroom, “Well, each appointment you’ll give me a different price, Miss Y/L/N. But, considering today was your first day, I choose to pay you with dinner.“ He sends a wink my way, laughing when he’s met with an unamused expression on my part as I stop in my tracks, causing him to halt his movements as well.
“You really plan on paying me with the dinner I bought?“ I raise an eyebrow at him, freeing my hand from his so I can put both my hands on my hips for the complete 'I’m far from impressed’ look.
“Yeah...? Problem?“ He asks, faking nervousness and guilt as he closes the distance between us, once again returning to the default of towering over me instead of it being the other way around.
“Several actually. First of all...“ I raise my finger in the air accusingly, ready to go off but the arm that wraps around my waist and lifts me off the ground causes my words to die down, evaporating in a frightened squeal, “Corpse no!! Put me down!“
Of course, he ignores me, carrying me into the living room while I don’t know whether to thrash or stay as still as possible. 
Tsk, so much for gratitude
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jenoismydad · 3 years
Text
For Your Eyes Only
its been a while since i’ve written nomin smut. this one took quite a while to write and its kinda crack but i still hope you all enjoy it. smut begins at the ♥️ incase you don’t want to read the plot.
Pairing: Jeno x Reader x Jaemin
Genre: Smut; Threesome, Fem Receiving, Male Receiving, Unprotected Sex
Words: 3.8k+
Synopsis: You take a naughty picture for Jaemin without realising that you accidentally sent it to Jeno instead. One wrong text leads to a night of immeasurable pleasure ;)
Warnings: None
»»————- ➴ ————-««
It was 3 a.m. and you were unbelievably horny. After unsuccessfully attempting to satisfy yourself, you gave up and decided to call your neighbour cum fuck buddy, Jaemin, hoping that he was still awake and that he’d be kind enough to come over and help you out with your ‘problem’. Luckily for you, he picked up, and when you presented your case, he asked you to give him 20 minutes, during which time he’d finish playing a video game, shower and then arrive to tend to your needs. Still, since the offer was better than nothing, you agreed and decided to wait. However 20 minutes later, your doorbell failed to ring. So, you called him once again to check up and make sure that the offer was still standing. This time, Jaemin claimed that he’d only need 10 more minutes, but if you were to give him an incentive of sorts, then he’d consider hurrying up. He also ridiculously concluded by adding that doing so would be a win-win situation for you both as he’d get to see your boobs due to which you’d get to be railed by him sooner.
Since it all made perfect sense, there was no reason for you to say no to this newly introduced
proposition. All you had to do was click a picture and send it to him. That would be the end of that, and you’d both get what you wanted. However, you knew very well how Jaemin’s friends liked to snoop around in his phone. It so happened that you’d once sent Jaemin a rather proactive text, leading from which was an hour long conversation about all the dirty things you both wanted to do to each other. Later on, much to your horror, Jaemin informed you that it wasn’t actually him who you were sexting but instead, one of his buddies who’d borrowed his phone to ‘play some games’. It was amusing for Jaemin but the incident had scarred you beyond belief. The embarrassment you felt afterwards was immeasurable and so, you’d been careful with the way you made your booty calls ever since.
To put it straight, you were reluctant to send Jaemin a few nudes in the fear that someone who wasn’t him might come across them. But after giving it quite a lot of thought, you realised that you were just too horny and impatient to keep dragging this out. If you wanted to get relieved so that you could soundly fall asleep, you needed to get Jaemin down here as soon as possible.
So, without so much as a thought, you opened your camera, took the raunchiest set of pictures that you possibly could, and sent them to him with a reminder that they were for his eyes only. After that you were left to stare at your phone screen, waiting to see if he’d gotten his ‘incentive’ or not. It took him a few seconds, but soon enough, he saw them. You didn’t know if he was at a loss of words or if he was just trying to send you a cheesy pick up line that he couldn’t quite seem to remember. He kept ‘typing’ but you never got a response and it was beginning to make you feel antsy. Just before you were about to call him again, you heard a knock at your door.
Feeling a sense of relief, you straightened yourself up a bit before opening the door. “Took you long enough-”, you muttered distastefully, pausing when you surprisingly met eyes with someone who was clearly not Jaemin.
“Jeno? What are you doing here?” you asked, extremely confused as to why your next door neighbour was at your house at such a late hour. He seemed conflicted, dazed almost, knuckles having turned white because of how tightly he was holding his phone. Something was wrong. You noticed this and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Is everything okay? Do you wanna come inside?”
He shook his head, nodding soon after, seemingly in a dilemma of sorts. You stepped aside, allowing him to enter your home. “Jeno what’s going on?” you asked once again, starting to feel concerned for your friend. He was usually always so calm and composed so his current demeanour seriously caught you off guard. For some reason he was fighting for words.
“Umm, I don’t know how to say this but, did you mean to send those pictures to me?” he spoke quickly, avoiding your gaze immediately after. Now you were at a loss of words. You weren’t stupid and you were pretty sure you knew what he was talking about. It didn’t take you too long to put two and two together. To further support your doubts, his deranged state plus apparent timidness suggested that he’d seen something horrific, something that he hadn’t intended to see and something that you were now realising must have been sent to the wrong person. As soon as it occurred to you, you checked your messages, feeling absolutely dreadful when your suspicions were confirmed. You’d sent your nudes to him instead of Jaemin. How, you did not know. What were you supposed to do now? Apologise? Even if you did, and even if he forgave you, you couldn’t live with the fact that he’d seen you naked, or semi naked or whatever. Jeno wasn’t someone who you could ignore that easily. He lived right next to you, you always ran into him in the elevator and down the halls and he was your go to 5 minute grocery store from whom you’d borrow eggs or laundry detergent, whatever it was that you’d run out of. He was very crucial and unavoidable so now, what were you going to do about this?
“Fuck, I-, I’m so sorry you had to see those. I mean, I wasn’t trying to send them to you.”, you began. “I don’t even send nudes. Like this was the one time, the one time that I did and look what happened.” Chuckling nervously you continued, “I guess you could say that I was super desperate, I mean-”
“Yeah, that’s not an understatement.”, Jeno mumbled, tilting his head with a subtle smirk. You stumbled over your words as you registered what he said. Pausing, you pursed your lips and uncertainly faced him. “What do you mean by that?” Jeno looked up at you and scratched his neck. “I could hear everything.”, he admitted, somewhat embarrassedly. “These walls are incredibly thin. You’d be surprised at how much detail they fail to spare.”
Your eyes widened, face turning a deep shade of red. He’d heard you masturbating. How humiliating. If the door wasn’t closed, you would’ve bolted. The uncanny amount of awkwardness that had settled over you both felt like it could crush you at this point. Why did he feel the need to tell you that? If you were in his place then you would’ve just kept it to yourself, no matter how awkward it would make you feel around him. It was enough that he’d seen your nudes, but this, this was practically the cherry on top.
But then, Jeno proceeded to say something so unfathomable, so completely unlikely of him, that it made you question whether the man standing before you was actually the same cheerful person that you’d been living beside for the past few years or if it was just another overly confident horny teenager on omegle.
“I could help out if you’d like.”
You wanted to scream, to run and hide somewhere where he could never trace you because how the fuck were you supposed to respond to that. So straightforward, so suggestive and so utterly shameless. It felt like he’d put you on the spot. If you said no then it would make things manifold awkward and you didn’t know if you could afford to bear that. If things ever became like that then the only choice you’d have left is to move out, which you once again, were beyond the means of affording. But that in no way meant that you were obligated to agree to his suggestion. So now the question arises...why on earth did you?
Though you’d claim that you’d never thought of Jeno like that, it was common knowledge that you had, at least once in your life, indeed wondered what he was all about. Whenever he wasn’t smiling he looked like a walking full course meal. Jeno was attractive, you would never deny that. And that thing he’d said about the walls being thin. Well let’s just say that you’d lived through a few endless nights of wondering what the heck that man was doing to drunken women in his dingy ass bed that had them screaming like that. It was enticing, it was exciting, and the more you thought about it, the more curious you were to find out. Other than that you felt like it would make things less awkward. He’d seen you partially naked. But if he saw you completely naked and you saw him completely naked then you felt like that would balance things out. Were you stupid? Yes you were. Were you insanely horny? Surprisingly, despite everything that had just happened, yes, you still were.
♥️
“Turn the lights off.”, you instructed with a smirk, pointing to the switch behind Jeno. He did as you said, chuckling when you pulled him towards your couch excitedly. Pushing him down, you quickly got on top of his lap and crashed your lips onto his. Jeno wrapped his arms around your waist, sighing into the kiss. Wanting to waste no time, your tongue brushed over his bottom lip. Jeno parted his lips, letting your tongue run over his. He hastily pushed your shirt up, messily pulling it off over your head. He then flipped you over, laying you down on the couch as he hovered over your body. “Can I just go for it?” he asked, grinning when you nodded. With your permission, Jeno shoved his hand into your pants and past your panties until his fingers ghosted over your clit. You gasped, anticipating his next move. Jeno chuckled and began rubbing soft circles into your clit. You let out a shaky breath, moaning when he dipped his head down to place wet kisses on the skin of your neck. For a second there, you got so lost in the feeling of his calloused fingers on your clit that you failed to notice the budding tension in your abdomen. It wasn’t until you came undone all over his fingers, that it occurred to you. Jeno didn’t stop however. He continued rubbing your clit, sending you into a frenzy over sensitivity. You mewled, hugging his body tightly. Your thighs snapped shut, nails digging into his shoulders as the sensation started becoming too much for you to take. “Take your pants off.”, Jeno spoke quickly, sitting up to do the same. You tugged everything off, laying back down on the couch, giving Jeno quite the sight of your glistening core. Once his cock was free of its restraints, he gave it a few hard pumps before lining his tip up against your slit. Your hips twitched at the ticklish feeling. You spread your legs wider, waiting for him to push into you. Leaning over your body, Jeno’s cock soon filled you up. The overstimulation had your pussy burning. But you didn’t mind anymore. Something about the way his girth pushed against your tight walls made you believe that you were in for something amazing. Holding himself up on his palms, Jeno began thrusting into your. Considering how wet you were, he didn’t have to build up his pace. You closed your eyes, basking in the feeling of his cock fucking you. It felt so good. It was exactly what you’d been craving for. Jeno maintained his fulfillung thrusts, not too slow but not too fast. You swore if he kept fucking you like that it would be enough to bring you to a second orgasm. But you were impatient and the desire to feel those euphoric waves crash down on you again was more demanding than you’d like for it to be. And so your hand sneakily came down to your clit, proceeding to add to the pleasure that you were already feeling. Sweat trickled down Jeno’s forehead as he chased his own high. Both of you were so consumed in your own pleasure that no one heard the lock jiggling. Your loud moans masked the sounds of someone entering your home. It wasn’t until the imposter actually said something, that you realised someone was watching you.
“How could you guys get started without me?”, an all too familiar voice whined.
Jeno froze in place. You on the other hand, were so close to cumming, that even though you’d seen Jaemin standing there, your fingers never ceased their movements. And as soon as your eyes locked with Jaemin’s, your orgasm hit. You’d never been in such a intimately awkward situation before. On one hand your body was springing with thrilling pleasure while on the other hand, you were flabergastedly staring at your fuck buddy. Talk about timing.
“Jaemin what are you doing here!”, you asked, not quite understanding how he’d gotten into your home. He furrowed his brows, seemingly offended. “Umm, hadn’t you asked me to help you out with your problem?” Still buried balls deep in you, Jeno looked between you and Jaemin, more confused than he’d ever been in his entire life. How could you have forgotten about Jaemin? Of course he was going to come over. But still, who let him in? “How did you manage to get inside?”, you asked, as you moved to sit up. Jaemin raised his hands in defence. “The door wasn’t locked. That’s not my fault. It’s yours.” He pointed at you accusingly. You rolled your eyes. “Still, you’re supposed to knock. You can’t just barge in-” “
Oh please.”, he interrupted, holding a hand up to stop you. “It’s not like you’re doing something I’ve never seen before.”
“When have you ever walked in on me having sex?”
Jaemin gave your question some thought. “Hmm? Now that I think of it, never actually.” He smiled bashfully, eyes darting over to Jeno. Jaemin clapped his hands. “This guy however, I’ve walked in on him countless times. Surprised that he actually stopped though. Usually he just ignores me and continues.”, Jaemin revealed. Jeno rolled his eyes and looked over to you. “Bitch always cock blocks me. But whatever, if he’s here now I think I can leave.”
Before he could pull out of you however, you grabbed his hand, halting him. “You didn’t even finish yet. Please don’t tell me you’re going to jerk off.” Jaemin nodded at your words. “Come on Jenny. Don’t disappoint yourself. Cum, and then you can leave. You’ve gotta finish what you’ve started.”, he added. Jeno looked at Jaemin. “What are you going to do then? Stand there and watch?”
Jaemin looked at you. “Well I could join if you’d like.” Jeno turned to you as well. “I’m fine with it. Are you?”
You looked between both boys. “Have you guys done this before?” You’d asked because it seemed like they had.
Jaemin nodded, walking over to you both. “This one time, Jeno got super duper day drunk and he called some girl over and then I came downstairs because I needed some eggs and they were doing it on the couch, just like you two were right now, and the girl pointed to me and was like ‘can he join us’ and so I joined them and then we had sex and it was really good and yeah.”
That was only one time though and Jeno was drunk. Something about the way Jeno had agreed to this made you believe that this was something that had probably happened more than once. As if he’d heard all the questions in your mind, Jeno continued Jaemin’s narration. “Jaemin was having a party at his place once. I hooked up with someone in his room and he walked in on us. Dude just joined in like it was nothing and honestly, it was super fun.”
“And were you drunk then?”
Jeno shook his head. “Surprisingly, I was not.”
That sure said a lot. Maybe this wouldn’t be that bad. You knew Jaemin was a good fuck and Jeno was proving to be right up to the mark. You’d never done something like this before but after everything that you’d been through tonight, what was the point in feeling embarrassed. You were ready to let go and lose yourself.
Jaemin undressed himself, and made you lay back down again. “Don’t gag on me y/n. I know you can take it.” You gulped, equally nervous and excited. Jeno pulled out of you, pumping his cock a few times before turning you onto your stomach. He pulled your hips up and pressed his tip into your slit. “Can we have a countdown Jenni?”, Jaemin asked, holding his own cock to your mouth. “No. And stop calling me Jenni, it’s weird.” Jaemin pouted but nonetheless, tapped your lips. “Open up y/n.”, he cooed. Jeno pushed into you from behind and resumed fucking you, the same way he had been before.
You spit on Jaemin’s cock, waiting for him to slick his length up before opening wide for him. Once he pushed his cock into your mouth, you wrapped your lips around his girth, swirling your tongue over his tip, just the way you knew he liked it. Jaemin smiled, holding your hair out of your face. With Jeno’s forceful thrusts, you didn’t need to bob your head over Jaemin’s cock. “Jenni, have you ever gotten your dick sucked by y/n? If you haven’t, I highly recommend it. Y/n ensures 100% customer satisfaction.”, Jaemin spoked happily. You snickered, sending a rumble of vibrations through his cock. Jaemin shivered and tapped your nose. “That tickled.”
Jeno scoffed at Jaemin’s childish tone. “Is he always like this?”, Jeno asked you. You gave him a thumbs up and pulled Jaemin’s cock out of your mouth. “He’s only serious when he’s about to cum.” Jaemin gasped and grabbed your jaw. “Who said you could stop missy?”
Jaemin shoved his cock back into your mouth and held your head down. Your nose was mere inches from his abdomen. You grabbed onto his hand, a sign that you’d gotten the message. You wouldn’t stop until he finished now. Jeno snickered and upped his pace. He fucked you nice and hard. Jaemin’s cock muffled your moans. Every time Jeno thrusted into you from behind, Jaemin pushed his hips into your mouth from the front.
“So Jenni.”, Jaemin started, clearly not close to his high. “How’d you end up here?”
Jeno grunted as he fucked you. “She sent me something that was meant for you. I came here to ask her about it. We ended up fucking.”, he explained, never losing his pace once. Jaemin nodded and raised a brow. “Wonder what she sent you. I never get nudes.”
“It was just a picture of her half naked. Her tits looked real nice though.”, Jeno shared. “Oh. If I’d have gotten them instead, I would’ve been down here sooner.”, Jaemin admitted. You weren’t too sure about that. You knew Jaemin would’ve made you reveal more than you originally had. “Can you send me the pictures later y/n? I’d really love to see them.”
You gently bit Jaemin’s cock, making him wince. He also effectively shut up and continued to remain quite thereafter. The sound of skin hitting skin soon filled the room. Jeno fucked you faster. He was close. You clenched your walls around his shaft, hoping that it would help him reach his high quicker. “Fuck. Do that again.”, he muttered, fingers digging into your ass. Pushing your hips backward, you clenched your walls around his cock again. Jeno groaned in satisfaction, ramming his hips into you one last time before filling you up with hot ropes of his cum. You hummed against Jaemin’s cock as Jeno emptied himself into you and eventually pulled out. Seeing that your pussy was now unoccupied, Jaemin pulled out of your mouth and quickly sat down on the couch. You threw your leg over his lap and lowered yourself onto his cock without wasting a second. Somewhere in the back you could hear Jeno fishing for his clothes. Jaemin sucked in a breath, undoing your bra with a simple flick of his wrist. He tugged the material off your body and went straight for your nipple, running his tongue over the sensitive bud.
“Good night guys.”, Jeno said, standing by your door. Jaemin pulled away from your breast and looked over his shoulder. “Good night Jenni! I hope we don’t keep you up.” Jeno made his exit, leaving you and Jaemin to be. Jaemin bucked his hips upwards, fucking into you from below. Loud moans poured out of your mouth as he rammed into you.
“Isn’t this what you wanted y/n. Didn’t you want to feel my cock inside of you like this?”, Jaemin questioned, losing the playful demeanour. You nodded frantically. “Yes, Jaemin. Oh god, yes!”You couldn’t even speak coherently because of how quick he was fucking you. You could feel Jeno’s sticky cum trailing down your thighs. It all felt so lewd but you would never complain about it. “Are you going to cum all over my cock y/n?”, Jaemin asked, noticing the way your moans became shriller. You didn’t answer him. You couldn’t answer him. You were too focused on the knot forming in your stomach to think about anything else. “Fuck I’m gonna cum.”, you moaned, fingeres tugging on his hair in desperation. Jaemin said nothing further and sped up his thrusts, hammering into you from below.
Your orgasm hit you so hard that your thighs began quivering at the strong sensation. You shut your eyes, a screen of white flashing before them as Jaemin slowed down a bit. He helped you ride out your high, grabbing your hips in order to keep you moving over him. Your walls were tight around his cock, and after a few more thrusts, he twitched inside you, soon emptying his seed into, just as Jeno had. After he pulled out of you, you fell onto the couch, suddenly feeling very fatigued. It was almost the morning now. God knows how long you’d been trying to fuck off your horniness. Thankfully, you were now fully and completely satisfied. “Aren’t you gonna clean yourself up?”, Jaemin asked, walking into your bathroom with his clothes in hand. You didn’t have the energy to move anymore. Jaemin came back, fully dressed, with a blanket and warm towel which he gave to you. You lazily ran it over your thighs, pulling the blanket over yourself soon after. Jaemin concluded that it was time for him to go home now. He bid you a farewell and was about to leave your house before he remembered that he had something to ask.
“Can you still send me whatever I was meant to see? I’d really love that.”
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sugaxjpg · 3 years
Text
ghosts just wanna have fun; m
⤷  When Jungkook discovered that he could communicate with dead people, the last thing he expected was that they would be there to give him romantic advice.
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✓ Couple: Jungkook x Reader | Psychic!AU & MedSchool!AU
✓ Filed under: fluff, crack (so many ghost puns), light smut (and jungkook being a nervous virgin) 
✓ Words: 20,062
Author’s Note: In which Jungkook is able to see spirits, but it’s just Taehyung and Yoongi giving him dating tips because he sucks at talking to girls. Hope you guys like it, because it has been on my WIPS for over a year and a half and I can’t believe it’s finally out there... emotional, really.
Also, huge thanks to @storytaeme​, who proof-read this mess like a champ. 
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 There aren’t many embarrassing situations that can overcome the fact that Jeon Jungkook found out about his psychic abilities as he was about to lose his virginity. 
To say the least, that hadn’t been the most pleasant of scenarios to open the pathway to the afterlife. Really, there was no casual way that he could justify the scream that broke from his lips, or the dramatic spin he took as he turned around on the bed — which, ultimately, had him falling into the small space between the nightstand and the wall, with his legs up in the air, and his butthole fully exposed for both planes of existence to see. 
Still, that hadn’t been the worst part. If those two pallid silhouettes had merely disappeared once he had seen them, it wouldn’t have been as traumatic — perhaps Jungkook could have found a semi-believable excuse about what he had witnessed — but no. Not only did the ghosts remain there, with their arms crossed before their achromatic clothes and eyebrows slightly raised in expectation, they continued their conversation as if nothing had happened. 
“Oh, he was definitely going to put it in the wrong hole,” the shorter of the two murmured, clearly entertained at the idea. 
The other scoffed. “What if he did?” he threw back. “Maybe he likes that, we can’t judge.”
Truth was that, one way or another, Jungkook couldn’t even figure out what he liked — he didn’t even get the chance. He was gone from his (ex) girlfriend’s place before his brain could even attempt to construct a plausible explanation, even less to digest what had preceded that unfortunate revelation. Now, the wrong hole would forever be a source of trauma for him. 
And the problems didn’t exactly stop there. Ever since his cherry-popping session was interrupted, Jungkook hadn’t been able to move further than the first base, thinking that he would embarrass himself all over again or, worse, be frightened by a random demon passing by. Also, the constant mockery of his ghostly counterparts certainly didn’t help his concentration. 
The worst part? Helping Jungkook was kind of their whole point. And they couldn’t even do that right. 
Taehyung and Yoongi were their names — they told him right after the first night he saw them. Jungkook didn’t know what had happened in the afterlife that they had been punished with such a horrendous mission and, frankly, at that point, he was too afraid to ask. 
“But I don’t need your help,” Jungkook had said after one particularly bad date, dramatically throwing himself onto his bed. The furniture creaked under his weight and he wondered if it would snap before his mind did. “I just want you to leave me alone or, I don’t know, help me with something else — something useful.”
The two ghosts were by his desk, looking at his class notes and, at that comment, Yoongi raised his eyebrows. “Useful? Like what?” He asked. 
“I don’t know, solving crimes or something,” Jungkook mumbled, turning around so he would face the wall. God, he just needed two seconds alone. 
Behind him, Taehyung laughed. “You don’t even know how to open a bra, and you're out there thinking of reopening cold cases? Give me a break.” 
“Ouch,” Jungkook whispered. Maybe another time, it would’ve hurt his pride a bit more. That night, however, he was too tired to care. “For your information, I do know how to open a bra. You two just started whispering and it distracted me.” 
“We were whispering to you the instructions on how to open a bra,” Yoongi responded. “Would you need those if you knew what you were doing? No.” 
Jungkook sighed. “I just—”
“This conversation is done, we went over this already.” Yoongi interrupted. “You need us, whether you want it or not. You’re painfully bad at romance, Jungkook, even worse at initiating sex. I’ve never seen something like that before.” 
At that, Jungkook rolled on the bed and faced them. There was only one light in his bedroom that was on — the table lamp — and its clear orange shade passed through them both in an odd mixture of contours and lines. “Maybe if I could do it myself, without you two buzzing around the place, it wouldn’t be so bad,” he responded, aggressive. 
“Calm down. You were already bad enough when we arrived,” Taehyung told him, leaning over to see all the scattered pages on his desk. He frowned once he saw something he couldn’t quite understand, and quickly turned away from it. “Nothing changed much.” 
“Right!” Jungkook sat up on the bed. “Isn’t that enough of a sign for you two to stop trying to help me, then?” 
“No,” Yoongi said calmly. “That’s a sign that we have to try harder. And so do you.” 
He sneered. “I absolutely don’t.” 
“Yes, you absolutely do,” he said. “You know what? Grab your phone and get yourself a date with that girl you like from physiology class. Two weeks from now.” 
There was a second of silence as Jungkook’s mind struggled to piece the idea together. He wasn’t even sure about who Yoongi was referring to, there were a lot of girls in his class. “What? Why?” 
“Just trust us. She’s into you,” Yoongi spoke. 
Taehyung nodded in agreement. “It’ll work out.” 
Jungkook scoffed. “When does it, really?” 
“This time, it will,” Taehyung said. “Really. Do it.” 
“Fine.” He breathed out, reaching for his phone. “What girl?” 
Yoongi looked him up and down. “You know what girl.” 
With a deep breath, Jungkook scrolled over his contact list, struggling to find someone that he would have even the slightest chance with. Truth was, he has no fucking clue of which one of the hundred and fifty people in his class would even look in his direction, much less go on a date with him. 
“You do know… right?” Taehyung asked, clearly worried. “We can’t really give you names, but you… know, right?” 
“What? Oh, yeah, yeah! Sure I do!” Jungkook laughed nervously, clicking on a random name and opening a chat. “Here, I’m sending her a text right now. No reason to worry… no reason at all.” 
“Good,” Yoongi said, distracted. “Now, if you need us, we’ll be watching Gone Girl with your neighbors. We already missed the start of the movie, and I’m pissed off as it is.”
Taehyung nodded. “Amazing movie,” he said. Jungkook pressed send and prayed for the best. “We should have more movie nights over here.” 
 Yoongi said something in agreement and, in a second, they were already gone. Jungkook was left alone in his bedroom, with the light of his lamp casting over his features the desperation that he was feeling inside. 
“This better work,” he mumbled to himself. “You two better not be trying to embarass me.”
_____________
And then, two weeks later, Yoongi and Taehyung were laughing at him as his last failed attempt at romance got up from her chair and basically ran away from him.
Yoongi leaned back against the chair, his ankles crossed over the large table. If someone else could see him then, he surely would have received a few complaints about keeping the mall under semi-sanitary conditions. “Jungkook, I’ll tell you something,” he started, clearly amused. “You’re so bad at romance that I wish I was alive just so I could punch some reason into you.”
Taehyung, who had stayed mostly quiet during the painfully awkward interaction, walked beside Jungkook and chuckled at his distress. Still, he was focused on the other ghost, and the implication of his speech. “That amount of violence is the exact reason why you’re no longer alive, Yoongi,” he pointed out, then turned to Jungkook before he could smirk at the reprehension. “But really, that was awful. If I weren’t spiritually tied to you, I would’ve given up by now. You’re hopeless.”
“Completely out of it,” Yoongi added. “Do you even know how women work?” 
Jungkook rolled his eyes, and reached for his phone: there was no way he would enter a discussion with those invisible pricks in a public situation without something to mask it. Not that it would have been the first time.  
Yoongi materialized on the seat next to Jungkook, his head leaning against his hand. The boy was already used to those sudden changes of position, but that didn’t mean that he liked it. In fact, after Taehyung had appeared next to him during a particularly bad time — in which the incognito tab had already been opened, and a bottle of lotion already waited for him — he could never erase the intense panic of such experiences. 
But of course, Yoongi knew that, and he used his discomfort for his own entertainment. “You can’t ignore us, kiddo,” he said slowly, clearly amused. “And you can’t ignore the fact that you’ll die alone, surrounded by cats, if you don’t start listening to what we have to say. We have been tied to you for a reason.”
“And the reason,” Taehyung added, “is to make you stop cockblocking yourself.” 
With a subdued groan, Jungkook pressed his phone against his ear — an old trick that allowed for him to have a conversation without being seen as clinically insane by passersby. “You two are the reason why this date went downhill,” he told them. “You told me to say all the wrong things. You two set this up knowing I’d fail.” 
“Oh, no.” Taehyung shook his head in disagreement. “The words were right. Your delivery was awful.” 
“Western-movie-awful,” Yoongi added. “And if you want to change that, you have to trust us.” 
“Trust you? Where has that taken me?” Jungkook questioned, irritated. “You’re the reason why I lost my first girlfriend and haven’t had another one ever since.” 
Yoongi chuckled. “The girl from the first night? She never talked to you again after that, did she?” He asked, but, of course, he already knew the answer. “Damn, that was cringe-worthy. Butt in the air and everything.”
“No need to remind me, I was there.” Jungkook clenched his jaw, trying to control his demeanor. It wasn’t fair that there was not much that he could do to make the two men shut up — since they were, quite literally, already dead, he didn’t have many threats to utter. “And whose fault was that?” 
“Technically, yours.” Taehyung shrugged. “We didn’t present ourselves to you, you just saw us all of a sudden. We were just as surprised.”
“Besides, you were the one that had the B.F.,” Yoongi added. 
Jungkook raised one eyebrow. “B.F.?”
“Bitch fit,” Taehyung elucidated. “He watched White Chicks with your neighbors last night, don’t worry about it.” 
Jungkook groaned, pressing his hand against his face. Of course — the cherry on top would be outdated pop references, as expected. Yoongi had always been quite fond of the classic ‘with great power comes great responsibility’, and Jungkook thought that the overuse of that quote would be the ultmost reason for his insanity. Nevertheless, he came to understand that it was nothing compared to movies like White Chicks or even Legally Blonde. He would rather hear Uncle Ben’s famous line a billion times over before Yoongi accused him of having a B.F. once more. 
He took a deep breath and tried to focus on the environment around him. The murmurs and disembodied conversations around the mall had morphed into the sound of irritating insects, and he felt as if the earth could just open up and eat him alive. He probably committed a terrible crime in a past life to be stuck with Tweedledee and Tweedledum like that. 
“Anyways,” Jungkook stressed, “it didn’t seem like the two of you were surprised that I could see you. You just kept… talking about me. And my ass.”
Taehyung chuckled. “You were the one with the ass up in the air.” He vanished, then materialized in the seat in front of Jungkook. “What were we supposed to do? Ignore it?” 
“It was an easy target,” Yoongi spoke, then seemed to realize the words that had left his mouth. “Wait, I didn’t mean the double interpretation.” 
“Why can’t the two of you just fucking help me for once?” Jungkook asked aggressively. In a nearby table, one old man raised his eyes from his vegan burger and stared the boy up and down in disapproval. Jungkook lowered his voice and switched his phone to the other ear. “This is unbearable. You two are only making it worse.” 
With a gesture that Jungkook knew all too well, Taehyung used his thumb to point over his shoulder, towards the path that his failed date had followed. “That one wasn’t good enough for you,” he said nonchalantly. “We can tell. We know stuff.” 
“Then why did you set this up in the first place?” He asked, exasperated. 
“As DJ Khaled says, you played yourself,” Yoongi cited. One more reference and Jungkook would be the one joining the world of the dead. “It’s not our fault that you get nervous and can’t deliver the lines right. When have the two of us ever failed?”
“When you died,” he spoke back. “Or did you forget the stupid mistake you made?”
Yoongi hesitated. As much as he tried to play it cool, he wasn’t the smartest one around. In fact, his tragically premature death was all the evidence Jungkook needed to make his point clear. 
During his living days, Yoongi was pretty invested in rock climbing. On a beautiful summer afternoon, just as the sun was setting over the green-bathed hills, one of his friends dared him to bungee jump from the same cliff they had just climbed, and were standing on. Of course, the man agreed promptly, saying that he wouldn’t back out from such a mundane task; stating repeatedly that the fall wouldn’t be so high up anyway. But that wasn’t the turning point: Min Yoongi, in all his adventurousness, quickly decided that his local shop was too expensive and that he would create his own bungee jump cord instead. 
According to him, making the cord proved itself to be quite an easy task. He had gotten some help from his local adrenaline addicts and the final product was a very good copy of the factory-made ones. He measured the cliff twice just to be certain, compared it to the rope, and made sure to test the sustentation and elasticity as many times as he could. 
Still, Yoongi had overlooked an imperative detail: he shouldn’t use a cord that was the same height as the cliff he was jumping from. 
Needless to say, he only realized his mistake once he was already dead. 
Yoongi scoffed at the memory, ignoring his hurt pride. He swore he could still feel his back hurting when he thought about that. “That isn’t the point,” he said. He often did that: changed the subject once he realized he couldn’t leave with the upper hand. “The point is that you keep delivering lines like you’re a bad boy in a South American novela, then expect us to perform a miracle on you.” 
Jungkook frowned, lowering his head. “That’s actually so wrong.” 
But the problem was: Yoongi was right, and Jungkook knew it. In fact, that had been the exact reason why his date had left him that night — the boy had misunderstood Taehyung’s advice to play off as a mysterious man, and instead projected his image somewhere between a psychopath and a person that had only K-dramas as a basis of how human interactions were supposed to work. Jungkook missed his attempts at romance the entire time, but the breaking point was when Yoongi told him to act as a bad influence because, according to him, girls dig a good bad boy. 
Once again, Yoongi wasn’t the brightest mind when it came to risk-taking. That was why he was more dead than Jungkook’s bedroom. 
Jungkook, however, did not realize his own errors until it was too late. He had chuckled at his date’s embarrassment, using his opening to delicately place her hair behind her ear. “I’m going to tell you something,” he started, voice swift and placid as a river. With his eyebrows raised and his lips vaguely forming a pout, he looked like an off-brand version of Handsome Squidward. “I’m not really a good influence, and surely not the kind of guy you’d like to get with. So why don’t you do me a favor and follow the simple orders I give you, uh?”
Her eyes had widened in a mixture of second-hand embarrassment and fear. From the corner of his eyes, Jungkook saw her reaching for her purse over the table. “No, thank you,” she was quick to say. “I don’t think this will work, sorry. I’ll see you around college.” 
And that’s how they ended at that point. The point they always seemed to end up in. 
“I think I need a break from all of this,” Jungkook said, closing his eyes for a moment of peace. “I have a huge test next week and I couldn’t even study for it because of all the preparation for this stupid date. Can you two just take a step back? Just for a little while. Romance can’t be all that I think about.”
As he opened his eyes, he saw Taehyung staring at him. He couldn’t really read his expression. 
And, without an answer, the two of them vanished. 
_________________
If someone asked Jungkook why the hell he thought going to medical school was a good idea, he’d simply say that, at the time, it made sense. After all, he had thought, he’d be some sort of super-doctor, since he had an exclusive VIP pass to the afterlife — just imagine how many people he would be able to help just by asking a friendly ghost what was wrong with a patient. It would be a game-changer. He could even find the cure of cancer if he tried hard enough. 
But of course, he quickly realized that he should’ve thought further about his decision. Maybe being a detective would have made much more sense — it would have been a lot cheaper, that’s for sure, and he wouldn’t have to sit through almost twelve hours of classes every single day for a diploma that seemed to be too far away for him to care. 
That particular class, however, wasn’t the worst one out there. 
It was Tuesday, and Tuesday meant Pathology. Jungkook loved that class because the professor hated teaching it, so the students had to sit in silence for about three hours trying to read the textbook by themselves. The professor said he would be there to answer any questions, but he was mostly scrolling through his phone and interrupting students every time they tried to ask him something — “That’s in the textbook, just keep reading.”  
Most of his classmates absolutely despised that subject, but Jungkook thought it was wonderful: he often learned better by himself anyways, and the lack of conversation during class brought him some sense of peace. Besides, Yoongi and Taehyung hated sitting in that quiet room for too long, so they mostly left after ten or twenty minutes of trying — and failing — to strike up a conversation with Jungkook. It was the perfect day.
Well, most days it was. 
Just as he was about to move forward to the next topic — Adrenal Insufficiency and Addison’s Disease — , the boy felt something poking his bicep and he was quick to turn to his side. Instantly, he recognized your expectant gaze and something fluttered inside his stomach. 
“Hey, Jungkook,” you whispered, leaning over your desk, “is tomorrow afternoon still up? I really need help in cardiac physiology. I kind of suck.”
He hummed in agreement, fighting against the nervousness that crept up on him. Jungkook’s palms started to sweat just by looking at you, he really was one step away from reverting back to his pre-teen days. “For sure. I’ll be at yours at five,” he managed to get out. 
“Thank you so much,” you said, then moved back against your seat. “I owe you one.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He smiled. If it had been anyone else, Jungkook would’ve had a stroke by then — after all, he wasn’t always invited to a girl’s place so easily. That’s someone that I have absolutely no chance with, he thought. So friendzoning himself made everything much easier. “Are you sure you don’t want to meet up at the library?” 
“I can’t really concentrate there,” you answered. “But if you prefer, we could go.” 
“No, no.” He shook his head. “Your place is fine.” 
You smiled again, and Jungkook thought that maybe being shot wouldn’t hurt so much. “Thanks. See you at five.” 
Jungkook nodded and turned around, facing his laptop. Just as he was about to restart typing his notes, he saw a known reflection at the corner of his computer. Oh, God, have mercy.
Yoongi’s reflection smirked from the back row. “Oh, man, she’s so into you.”
 Jungkook shook his head in denial, eyes still glued to the PDF file in front of him. If anything, his classmates would have just guessed he was finding that subject more difficult than usual and, quite frankly, no one could judge him. 
“No?” Yoongi raised one eyebrow, reappearing by his side with his hand supporting his cheek. Jungkook didn’t even need to look at him to know that he was just looooving the discomfort that grew inside his limbs. “I know those things, kiddo. It’s my job.”
From the front seat, Taehyung hummed in agreement. He had his arm placed over the chair, and seemed to find that entire situation a bit boring — maybe because he had seen it countless times before. “She definitely wants to get some of that,” he said. “We are proud of you, son.” 
With a subdued sigh, Jungkook scribbled some aggressive words at the corner of his notebook, and showed it to the man by his side. “Look at this, Taehyung, he’s trying to convince us that they’re just friends,” Yoongi mocked, crossing his arms. “That’s cute. Just because you’re that oblivious, it doesn’t mean that we are.”
“Jungkook, we’ve been watching the two of you talk the entire semester,” Taehyung added. “Besides, Yoongi made me follow her around once. She’s definitely into you. In unholy ways.”
Yoongi nodded once again. “She wants to be your boo.”
“Was that a fucking ghost pun?” Taehyung’s nose cringed up in disgust, and Jungkook had to fight back the reflex of laughing at his reaction. “Awful.”
“At least I’m not the one who ghostwrote Jungkook’s ethics essay.” Yoongi threw back. “Yeah, and that was another pun. You’ve got no spirit.” 
“You know what? Now I know why Jungkook can’t stand us anymore.” Taehyung smirked and, then and there, Jungkook knew exactly what was coming. “He can see right through us.”
The other ghost nodded. “Yeah, we’ve reached a dead end.” 
Jungkook groaned in exasperation, hiding his face behind his hands. “This is torture.”
Next to him, you chuckled. “Come on, pathology isn’t even that bad. You’re good at this.” 
“I know, I’m just tired.” He turned around to look at you, uttering the same excuse he had been using this entire semester. Not that it was an uncommon one, especially in the fifth circle of hell that was medical school. “I think I need to splash some cold water on my face. Wake myself up.”
You hesitated, staring at him as he stood up.  Jungkook looked strangely pale, like he was about to throw up all over the classroom. “Is everything okay?”
Fantastic! My bachelor ghosts are just making me have a nervous breakdown. 
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” He said, almost stumbling over your chair. Some of your pens fell down, but Jungkook couldn’t even bring himself to get them. He’d probably just knock everything else over in the process, and he wasn’t even sure that he could stand back up after. “Shit— Sorry. I’ll be right back.”
Behind him, Yoongi chuckled. “Spook-tacular skills, as always.”
_____________
The sound of running water was all that entered Jungkook’s mind for a moment, his face feeling the coldness of the liquid as he splashed himself once, twice, trying to clear his thoughts. In the end, it was mostly in vain: his class was ruined, his notes were left unfinished, and he couldn’t get a second of tranquility anymore — not even in Pathology. If he weren’t canonized after his death, he would file a complaint for sure. 
Abruptly, he closed off the faucet and the water stopped running. There was a heavenly instant of quietness, in which Jungkook followed the crystalline droplets falling from his hair to the sink, before Yoongi’s voice echoed behind him. “How you doin’, champ?” 
Jungkook sighed and raised his head, looking at his ghost counterpart through the dirty mirror. “Is the bathroom empty?” he asked calmly. 
“Hm? Yeah,” Yoongi said. “The ghost is clear.”
Just like that, his serenity was gone. “Yoongi, can you fucking stop? Your puns stopped being funny after the third attempt,” Jungkook asked, exasperated. He pulled some paper towels, and got even angrier at the way they fell apart in his hands. Good to know his college money was being used wisely. “Jesus. Where is Taehyung?”
“You know he hates toilet paper,” Yoongi told him. “Reminds him of his death.”
Jungkook considered the compelling idea of banging his head against the bathroom wall until he, himself, was part of the world of the dead. As he recalled very well, Taehyung had been a victim of Final-Destination-levels of misfortune: just because he had forgotten to take toilet paper to his camping trip, the boy had been forced to use nearby leaves. Those, as he would soon come to understand, caused an awful allergy on his lower lands, and the punctual bleeding was a sufficient opening for opportunistic diseases. The culprit? Some super strange bacteria that floated around the river. He was dead less than twenty hours after he came back home from septic shock.  
Taehyung had endured, quite frankly, one shitty death. And, yes, Yoongi had made that joke a few too many times before. 
“Doesn’t matter,” Jungkook realized. “What did I tell you two about chit-chatting with me in large public places? Especially my classes? I have to pay attention. And I have a test in two days, I need to be all here, and not thinking about other people.” 
Yoongi giggled — almost childishly so — at the other’s anguished attitude. His teeth, a pallid shade of white, could barely be seen against the olive-green tiles that covered the bathroom walls. “You weren’t paying attention to the processes of intestinal inflammation, that’s for sure,” he teased, forcing himself to hold back his jokes a bit. 
“I wasn’t even studying that chapter,” Jungkook mumbled. 
Even Yoongi, who had a dense personality for such a diaphanous soul, could tell that the student was not in the mood for mockery. “Man, why are you so stuck-up? Taehyung and I are ghosts, but you’re the one with the dead sense of humor.”
Jungkook realized he needed a moment to think before he started yelling at nothing in a public bathroom. He really hoped the other stalls were empty, but he couldn’t be bothered to check. 
“This isn’t about the puns. You two just don’t respect my privacy,” Jungkook said. This time, he was able to pull some good paper towels and proceeded to dry his face. “This has been going on for too long. Why don’t you two just vanish for some time?”
“Wish I could, kiddo, but I’ve got hours to clock,” Yoongi finally admitted. From the mirror, he could see the frown of confusion that was cast over Jungkook’s features. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m only following rules. Talk to the big guy upstairs if you want to complain.”
He threw the paper on the trash and shook his head in confusion. “I just don’t see the point of any of this.” 
“You don’t have to.” Yoongi took a step closer. He often looked so unbothered — the two of them, actually — that Jungkook caught himself wondering which certainties they held, notions that would most likely be given after death. “Just do what we tell you to do.”
“That has only embarrassed me so far,” he said, turning around. “I don’t think I have it in me to trust in you two one more time. It has gotten me nowhere. Or, rather, nowhere good.”  
Yoongi sighed. “Alright, let’s do it like this, then: You go and help Y/N with her cardio whatever stuff, and Taehyung and I just watch. We promise to shut up, unless you’re doing something seriously embarrassing. Other than that, absolute silence.”
Jungkook narrowed his eyes. “You promise you two won’t tell me what to say?”
“Promise.” Yoongi nodded. He looked very sincere. “We won’t talk to you.” 
“I can live with that, yeah,” Jungkook agreed, leaning against the bathroom sink. “Sounds good.”
“Perfect.” He smiled. “Trust me, Jungkook. I only made one mistake in my life.”
Jungkook smirked. “And it killed you.”
“Not the point.” He raised one finger, clearly annoyed, then pointed it at Jungkook. “You’ll do great. It’s not like you’re gonna tell her about us or something.” 
He laughed. “Yeah, that’d be awful.” 
________________
But that was, ultimately, what he did.
To be fair, it was never Jungkook’s intention. He was completely sure that it would ruin not only his friendship with you, as it would also ruin his reputation, both as a student and as a future physician. Come on, how would he even explain that? How could he tell anyone that he not only saw two obnoxious ghosts, but that they were there to give him romantic (and sometimes sexual) advice? That’s insanity. 
Spoiler: he didn’t explain it very well. 
In the cosmic perspective, however, it was kind of Yoongi’s fault too. He had the problem of giving away too much sometimes, especially when he was alone and free from Taehyung’s scrutiny. And it was that extra bit of information that catalyzed the explosion that would become Jungkook’s confession. 
For some reason or another, Taehyung hadn’t joined the two of them that day, as Jungkook crossed the campus towards your place. For the first time in a long time, their conversation — which was, again, masked by Jungkook pretending to be on the phone — was actually quite pleasant. Yoongi had told him a bit more about his life back in the day and explained that he was studying to become a lawyer when he died. 
“I was thinking of dropping out anyways,” he said. “I just picked a random thing to study because I didn’t know what I wanted to do. And, well, I kind of did drop off. Just not from the course.” 
Jungkook could not help but laugh at the absurdness of it all. Sad coincidences aside, it was unusual for Yoongi to make jokes about his death. Taehyung was much more open about it, but Yoongi seemed to be very bitter because of the way and the time he passed. But of course, who was Jungkook to judge? 
“You know,” Yoongi started after a moment of quietude. “Taehyung and I were pretty surprised that day at the mall.”
Jungkook frowned. “Hm? Why is that?” 
The other man chuckled. “Honestly? Because you’re dumber than we thought.”
Seems like pleasant times didn’t last much between the two of them. “We’ve established that I can’t talk to girls, Yoongi, I know.” Jungkook really wanted to change the subject. 
“No, not that,” he denied. “Let’s go back a little. Remember what we told you in your bedroom that night? To get the physiology girl.”
Jungkook nodded. “Yeah, what about it?”
Yoongi laughed, amazed that Jungkook still didn’t get it. “You called the wrong one, idiot,” he explained. 
“What?” Jungkook paused in his tracks and, in a mindless reflex, forgot he was supposed to be talking on the phone, and looked directly at Yoongi, lowering the device away from his ear. “There is a right one?” 
“Hey, pay attention to your surroundings.” Yoongi pointed at a couple that also stopped, confused at the man’s actions. Jungkook cleared his throat, trying to regain some composure after that minor instant of public humiliation, and placed the phone back against his ear. “Let’s keep walking.”
With his heart beating insanely fast against his chest, Jungkook did as he was told. His mind was flooded with fragmented thoughts, working around words that seemed so simple, yet held so much.
“Yes, there is a right one — and you’re going towards her right now.” Yoongi responded, placing his ghostly hands inside his ghostly pockets. Jungkook never noticed that he still used the clothes that he had on when he died, but Yoongi wouldn’t be the first one to mention. “So don’t make a fool out of yourself. Not this time.” 
Jungkook swallowed dry, feeling as panic started to climb up his lower limbs, weighing down on his muscles. His throat was dry as a desert and forming sentences proved to be a far more difficult task than he had anticipated. The air around campus had suddenly become hot for an autumn day, unable to enter his lungs with ease. He really was two steps away from a full-blown anxiety attack. 
Yoongi frowned. “You good?” 
Jungkook licked his lips, only half aware of his actions. “Y-Yeah,” he struggled to get out. “Just kind of a bomb that you just dropped on me, that’s all.” 
Yoongi nodded, uninterested. “Yeah. Get over it. It’s not a huge deal.” 
Only, it was. For Jungkook, at least. What if you two were… you know? Meant to be? Like the soulmates kind of thing; star-crossed lovers. Like in the “we got married after two months of dating and we are still together after sixty years” kind of insane love? That was a lot to process, a lot to think about, especially when he was having like three different crises at once. It was a recipe for a disaster. 
Jungkook really was dumb when it came to anything besides his textbooks, but not for jumping into those conclusions. Frankly, most people would’ve been a bit overwhelmed by that. 
No, his problem would reside on his next thought: If you two were meant to be, you would understand if, for some reason, he had to tell you about his ghosts, right? 
Right?
_______________
To be fair with Yoongi, he did keep his promise. The two didn’t interrupt your conversation once, even if sometimes the moment begged for it, and Jungkook was two words away from ruining everything. Strangely enough, things seemed to work themselves out — the horrible jokes that Jungkook uttered seemed to suit your sense of humor; the shy and nervous demeanor that plagued his dates slowly melted away. It was good — in fact, it was the best talk he’s had with someone in a long, long time. 
The issue was that, as much as the two of them didn’t talk directly to Jungkook, they still talked. 
“What was that thing that she said, you know, to her friends?” Yoongi mumbled, his words coming out as a vague connection of syllables being formed at the corner of his mouth. He had his arms crossed, and his legs pushed up on the couch. “You told me that.”
“Yeah,” Taehyung took a moment to think. He had one of his hands buried deep inside the pockets of his white pants, and the other on the back of the couch. The two of them watched the conversation that unfolded above your living room table, the two of you trying to make sense of a subject that seemed to change every five minutes. “It was like ‘homeboy can like, get it’... or something.” 
Yoongi nodded, satisfied. “Nice.” 
Jungkook cleared his throat, trying to ignore that comment. It wasn’t news that you were interested in him — that had been the only thing Yoongi and Taehyung had told him for the past few hours, but it was very, very awkward to know those specific details. He was sure he wouldn’t like you to know the private conversations that he had with his friends, even less about the things he thought about when he was alone. There was something extremely violating about that, but, no matter how hard he tried to convince them, the two ghosts didn’t seem to care enough to stop. 
The giggle that came from across the table ruptured his thoughts. “Why are you blushing?” You asked.
“I’m… uh…” he struggled, suddenly feeling the heat that emanated from his cheeks. Wonderful. Even when he was just thinking about something, he still managed to make a fool of himself. “Just… thinking about some embarrassing things I did in third grade. The usual.” 
“Yeah, I’ve been there.” You smiled, reaching for the textbook across the table, and flipping through the pages. “I ruined this entire science project once. It was something about the pollination of flowers, but I missed that class. Ended up coming back to a lot of roses around the classroom, and decided to take a few of them home to my mom.”
“Oh no.” 
“Yep,” you nodded, looking back at him. Jungkook thought that he had lost himself in your eyes for a moment, a depth so engulfing that he couldn’t find the right words once he stared at it. He had never noticed how beautiful you were — or, rather, he had, but he had never stopped to think about it — and, now, it seemed as if that was the only thing that he could focus on. “Everyone in class was super pissed, the teacher even tried to suspend me.”
He shook his head, trying to imagine a mini-you justifying your flower thievery in front of the principal. “That’s insane, actually.”
“Kind of.” You shrugged, looking back at the book. You weren’t sure what you were searching for anymore, so you decided to close it. You two had been studying for almost four hours straight, you didn’t think that your brain could handle any more of that. “They didn’t really believe me when I told them it was a mistake. Guess no one even noticed my absence the day before, which is… somehow… even worse, now that I think about it.” 
A giggle reverberated in your throat as you dove into those forgotten memories, and Jungkook followed you. 
“Don’t laugh at child me, that’s so cruel.” You smiled. 
“I’m not.” He shook his head. “I just thought you were cute. Still are, you never really stopped being cute, I mean. You’re actually really pretty now, like a woman—” 
“I got it.” You placed your hands over his, and the shock of your skin against his seemed to spread throughout his entire body. He didn’t know if that was a soulmate thing of if he was just really horny. Probably a bit of both. “Don’t worry about it. You’re pretty cute too. Like a man.”  
“Thanks.” Jungkook itched the back of his neck, trying to find the right words to build his sentence. Panic began bubbling at the bottom of his stomach, sinking its teeth into his flesh as his words left his throat. “Actually, I wanted to ask you something.” 
It was the right time now: the studying was over, the conversation was flowing, you had told him that you thought he was cute — like a man. Now, he just needed to ask you out. Just that. That’s it. Three words. He had practiced: Wanna go out? That’s it. So casual. So playboy-esque. He could do it. No pressure. If you were the one, he didn’t have much to get wrong. 
But, oh my god, what if he got everything wrong? I mean, how many stories are out there of couples who were destined for each other, but something happened and it pulled them apart forever? The wrong time, the wrong place — the wrong words. Jungkook wasn’t psychologically prepared to ruin something so huge with a moment so small. He needed to calm down and focus. Just get the words out. Everything would sort itself out after that. He had faith. 
“What is it?” You asked. 
Jungkook cleared his throat, his eyes still glued to the touch of your hand against his. Outside, birds were chirping, unaware of the absolute shitstorm that was about to ensue. “So…” he started, “I was thinking that maybe I could— I mean, you — I mean we could...”
You tilted your head to the side, confused. “Sorry, what was that?” 
He blinked once, twice, fighting against the wave of sheer terror that had taken over his brain, whitening out his thoughts. He had the sentence ready, but he had forgotten how to form it. “I’m just trying… I’m just trying here to just…” He swallowed dryly. “I was just wondering if you would like to… I mean, if it’s not a problem—”
From the other side of the room, Yoongi groaned. “Just do it! You’re making eternity so much longer.”
And that’s when it happened. 
Jungkook turned around and yelled: “You told me you wouldn’t talk, you asshole!”
The entire room froze. A horrible moment of bewildered reticence followed as  the realization crashed upon him like a gigantic wave. He couldn’t have just yelled at nothing in front of you, like an absolute madman, could he? 
Your eyes widened and you pulled your hand away from his. The lack of warmth was like a dagger being thrown directly into his heart. “Excuse me?”
Yep. He totally did that. 
“Not you!” He was quick to turn around — maybe a bit too quick, too intensely. Even with nervousness clouding his vision, Jungkook could still see the shadow of fear and confusion mingling amongst your features. He had ruined everything, and that was all that he could think about. “I’m just... personalizing my anxiety...”
“Are you... alright?” You spoke slowly, measuring his actions. Jungkook had changed from cute-nervous to absolutely-unhinged-nervous; eyes widened and jaw clenched; hands gripping the wooden chair like his life depended on it. Maybe that study session was a mistake. Maybe you should’ve just googled an online class, like your best friend told you to. “It looks like you’ve seen a ghost.” 
Taehyung chuckled. “That’s pretty funny.” 
And, if the situation wasn’t already bad enough, Jungkook started to convince himself that perhaps it would be a good idea to come clean with you about his psychic abilities — maybe that was actually the only way that he could get out of that mess. If you were his soulmate, you’d understand. It’d all be okay. Yeah, maybe you’d be seriously creeped out for like the first twenty minutes, just like he had been, but eventually you’d understand what had happened. You two would laugh about it later, maybe when you were sixty, on your rocking chairs somewhere, staring lovingly at a cornfield. 
Was he losing it? Probably. But he didn’t have the right amount of mental clarity to fully think about the consequences of his actions in that moment. 
“I… did,” Jungkook spoke sluggishly, barely comprehending the trail of words that dripped from his tongue. His voice was much calmer, but he could still feel like his entire body was engulfed by flames. “I did... see a ghost. Two actually.” 
You frowned. This afternoon couldn’t possibly get any worse. “What are you talking about?” 
“Jungkook, don’t you dare,” Yoongi warned, but his voice seemed to come from miles away. 
Slowly, as if he wasn’t really aware of his own body moving, Jungkook adjusted his position on the chair, looking down at the sea of handwritten notes in front of him. He wished that human interaction was as easy as the types of pulmonary volumes, or perhaps the changes of oxygen inside the hemoglobin. That he knew. That he could deal with.
“Ok so, have you ever watched The Emperor’s New Groove?”
You blinked twice, puzzled. “What?”
“The Disney movie,” he clarified, looking up at you. 
You shook your head, measuring how long it would take for you to bolt out of the door and run away from your own apartment. Maybe you could get out and then call someone for help. You wished you had already taken Psychiatry. “I know what that is, Jungkook, but I just don’t understand where you’re getting at.”
“Maybe it’s in the TV series that came after the movie, I don’t know, but Kronk has these two little beings on his shoulders, a devil and an angel.” He cleared his throat, and looked back at the sheets of paper. It was so hard to stare at you now, when just seconds before, it had been so easy. “I kinda have the same thing, only, they’re dead people. You know, ghosts. And they’re not on my shoulders — that’d be pretty awful, actually.” 
Taehyung mumbled from across the room, “I really don’t think this is a good idea, Jungkook.” 
“You’re making no sense right now,” you said, worried about the effect that your words could have on him. “I think… I think it would be better if you left.” 
“I can see dead people, okay?” Jungkook interrupted, exasperated. You had to understand. You were the right girl from physiology class, you had to understand. 
“Okay, Sixth Sense.” You laughed nervously. Bad time for a joke, you thought, but the boy barely seemed to process it. “Listen, I can tell you’re not doing very well right now, so you should probably leave, maybe clear your head a bit. You already helped me a lot—”
“No, I don’t need that. My head is clear—”
“You know, there is a very good mental health clinic in campus, I’ve gone there already, and I think—” 
“No! I don’t need mental health, it’s true!” Jungkook stood up, walking towards the couch, where the two dead men sat. There was an unspoken contest in the room to see who could be more flabbergasted at the boy’s actions, and you and Yoongi were in a close tie. “I can prove it.” 
You almost choked on air. “You what?” 
Jungkook pointed at nothing. “They’re here right now, I can prove it to you.”
Discombobulated, you shook your head one more time. Maybe if you did that enough, your chaotic thoughts would just fall out of your ears, and everything would be much clearer. Maybe that was a prank, maybe that was a full-blown psychotic breakdown. You just didn’t really know what to do from there. “Jungkook, I don’t think—” 
“Come on, just show yourself to her!” He yelled into the air, more specifically at your white couch. You just wanted to study cardiology, how did it end up like this? “Give me a sign, I don’t know.”
Yoongi chuckled, completely amazed by the way Jungkook continuously broke the Dumb Records that he had previously set himself. No bonus in heaven would be worth dealing with Mr. Smooth Brain over there. He should’ve gone for the orphans instead. “I cannot believe you right now.” He stood up from the couch and sighed, utterly defeated. Maybe he could just get it over with, and then The Big Man Upstairs would show him a bit of mercy. “But I guess now there isn’t much to lose. I’m only doing this because at least it would make this situation a bit better.” 
“How?” Taehyung asked. 
“There’s a slight improvement between psychotic crisis and psychic abilities,” Yoongi responded. He walked towards the window, rolled his eyes at the pathetic presentation of supernatural phenomena, and pulled on the white curtains of your living room. “Here. Boo! Paranormal activity.” 
“Did you see that?” Jungkook asked, excited. 
However, instead of meeting a surprised gaze, he only saw panic and preoccupation swimming inside your eyes. “The curtain moving? Yeah. That was the wind, Jungkook.” You stood up from the chair, measuring your chances at escaping. He was getting more and more erratic, and you didn’t know where the situation could escalate to next. “You’re seriously freaking me out right now. You’re being really aggressive about this.” 
“Yoongi, you’re worse than the spirits in Ghost Hunters,” Taehyung groaned, reappearing next to your living room table. “You have to be bold, that’s what I always say. Make a statement.”
Taehyung’s statement, of course, had been the biggest slap against a lamp that Jungkook had ever witnessed in his life. The ghosts had once told him that it took them a huge amount of concentrated energy to do something as little as move a napkin, so there was no way that Taehyung wouldn’t be exhausted after making that heavy piece of furniture fly against the wall, shattering into a million little pieces with a loud noise. 
“What the fuck?” Jungkook asked. “That was so dangerous! She could’ve gotten hurt.”
He shrugged. “You asked.” 
“What the fuck was that?” You yelled, taking your hands to your face. Was that shared hysteria? What did you just see? Maybe you were the one who needed fresh air and a shrink visit. “You’re pranking me, right? You have like a nylon string wrapped around your hands or something.”
Jungkook moved his head in denial, raising his hands up in a sigh of defeat. “I swear to God, it’s true.” 
“I don’t… I don’t believe you,” you said, clearly terrified. Not at the idea of ghosts, Jungkook realized, but of him. That date surely couldn’t have gone any better. 
Yoongi sighed and materialized behind Jungkook. Lost causes, Yoongi was surrounded by lost causes. “If you really want her to believe you, tell her we can say some stuff about her, but it’ll probably freak her out.”
“They are saying that they can convince you by saying some stuff about you.” Jungkook swallowed dry. Something inside him was screaming for him to just shut the fuck up and leave your building. If there was something he learned by being with the two undead pricks, is that they could always make a situation worse. 
But desperate times require desperate measures. 
You adjusted your posture. Trepidation was still very present in your face, but there was also a small spark of interest swimming somewhere inside your eyes. “I seriously doubt that.” 
“I can show you,” he said. “Just… don’t freak out.”
“Fine.” You licked your lips in anticipation. “The name of my first pet.”
“Is this a password verification?” Yoongi groaned. He just wanted to watch Twitches later that day, but Jungkook just had to start a seance in someone else’s room. Again: the orphans would never. “Fine. It was Mr. Green, a tortoise she killed by leaving to dry in the asphalt.” 
“It was a tortoise, Mr. Green. You left it on the asphalt and it died,” Jugkook repeated without hesitation. 
You blinked twice, taking in the answer. “This is so fucking weird. How did you know that?”
“Yoongi told me.” Jungkook pointed over his shoulder, where Yoongi stared you down. Just by looking in that direction, you felt a shiver run down your spine. You were losing it. “He’s, you know, one of the ghosts.” 
“I’ve never been so exhausted in my life.” You placed one hand against the chair, leaning against it. There was no use to keep that conversation going, and you both knew it — and yet, just like a politician lying, it just didn’t stop. “But you could’ve asked anyone that.”
It was Jungkook’s turn to become completely lost. “Why would I ask such a specific question? I don’t even know your friends.” 
Behind him, he heard another loud groan. “I’m so done with this.” Yoongi placed his hand on his shoulder. “Let me talk, Jungkook.” 
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” He asked.
Yoongi snorted. “We are all out of good ideas. But I think this is the best chance you’ve got.”
“Who are you talking to?” You almost yelled. 
Jungkook looked back at you and, for some reason, the preoccupation in his eyes scared you even further. “Okay, this is going to be really weird, alright? But it’s not gonna be me talking.”
“What?” 
“It’s like… a kind of possession,” he explained, gesticulating a bit more than socially acceptable. “It’s like… uh… One of them is going to use my mouth for a bit. Talk through me.” 
You laughed, and there was a high-pitched sort of timbre to it. That might as well happen. “Sure, of course. What else? Exorcism live?” You asked. 
“Just give me the permission,” Yoongi commanded. 
Jungkook took in a deep breath, and clenched his hands into fists. He hated that part. “Fine,” he consented. 
Gradually, the muscles around his mouth and throat grew numb, as if Jungkook had entered a dream, and his body was responding in autopilot. There was an awful pressure on his shoulders and a ringing in his ears as Yoongi accommodated himself around his body, reaching for control. That was the closest he would ever feel to being a ventriloquist’s puppet, and it was as bad as it could be. 
Yoongi spoke through him with ease: “You told your friends last week that you didn’t care if Jungkook was a shy virgin who played minecraft because he was exactly your type. You also said that your average score in physiology is ninety-seven percent and you didn’t need any help. You just needed an excuse to stay with him. Happy?” 
Jungkook inhaled sharply as the pressure on his body subsided, the numb sensation around his neck growing thinner by the second. “So violating,” he complained. 
“How did you know that?” Your voice shook him back to reality. Both of you were reaching new levels of terror every minute. “Are you stalking me?”
That back and forth was starting to get exhausting. “That wasn’t me. That was Yoongi,” he tried once again. He was starting to think that the whole thing had been a bad idea. 
“Well, fuck you, Yoongi,” you spat. 
Yoongi scoffed. “Fuck you too, princess. Maybe you really don’t deserve this man.”
“I’m not saying that,” Jungkook whispered to him, then turned back to look at you. He wanted to hug you and magically erase your memories for that afternoon, but, in reality, he couldn’t even move his legs without feeling like he could fall face-down on the floor. He really, really, really hated possession. “I’m just… I’m sorry about that.” 
“About what, Danny Phantom?” You asked, throwing your hands up in an exasperated gesture. And there it was: from panic to complete fury. That was all that you two needed at that moment. “About making me scared shitless, or about exposing me like this?” 
He suspired. “Do you at least believe in me now?” 
“Does it look like I believe in you, Jungkook?” You practically screamed. Truth was: neither of you knew that for sure. “I’m a woman of science, you can’t expect me to believe that—”
Taehyung groaned, walking closer to Jungkook. It must’ve been a world record how quickly everyone in that room got angry. “Let me talk,” he requested. 
Jungkook sighed, defeated. How much worse could it possibly get? “Go ahead,” he said.
There it was again: the feeling of being under anesthesia, the weight of an entire other being pressed down against his shoulders. Good times. “Yesterday,” he started, “you masturbated to the thought of Jungkook, but you forgot to recharge your vibrator so you had to use your fingers and you complained the entire time. Explain that, science woman.”
Another deep gasp, and Jungkook was folding over, finding balance on his knees. He really felt like he couldn’t even think straight anymore, his mind covered by a thick fog. 
You didn’t seem to be in a much different situation either. “I’m… gonna pass out.” 
“That was so unnecessary, Taehyung,” Jungkook whispered. His mouth was terribly dry, and his hands were shaking. “You guys really don’t know your limits.” 
“Taehyung? Who the fuck is that?” You screamed. 
Taehyung crossed his arms. “Hey, at least she believes you now.”
“He’s the other ghost. The one with no sense of boundaries.” Jungkook stared at Taehyung, clearly pissed off. Maybe his voice would’ve come out a bit more forceful if he didn’t get thrown around by sadistic spirits. “I’m sorry about that.” 
You shook your head, dumbfounded. “I need you to leave now. And take your ghosts with you.” You leaned over the table, and grabbed his notes, shoving them into a messy pile. Not that you were super worried about the integrity of the paper at a time like that. “This has really crossed like... every line.” 
Jungkook licked his lips, trying to find the right words to say. Someway, he managed to get his legs firm enough so he could start walking in your direction. “Please, I didn’t mean to—” 
You shoved the pile of notes into his backpack, and then the backpack into his hands. Before he could react, you grabbed him by the arm, guiding him towards the exit. “Thanks for helping me, Jungkook.” The door opened with a forceful pull, and you shoved him into the hall. “Never speak to me again. Bye.” 
The bang of the door slamming shut was horribly loud, reverberating inside Jungkook’s chest for a moment longer. Now that the possession daze was starting to move away from his body, the boy could feel the traces of panic crawling inside him. 
Jungkook dropped his backpack to the ground, and started knocking on your door. “Y/N, please!” He called. “I’m so sorry about everything. You have to believe me!” 
Your yell came muffled from the other side of the door. “Go away!” you screamed. “Or I’m calling the cops!”
Defeated, he closed his eyes and placed his forehead against the wood. Now that the situation had already climaxed, the absurdity of it all was starting to become much more palpable. 
How could Jungkook be so stupid? How could he think that you would act normally as you were exposed to the supernatural world? Especially in such distressing, violating ways. Even if you were his meant-to-be, his forever person, it would be ridiculous to believe that anyone would take all  in that with ease. He really outdid himself that time. 
“Let her be, you two can talk another time,”  Yoongi spoke, leaning against the wall. It was possible to see all the places that the pain was starting to crack through his semi-translucent form. “Good attempt, though. I’d give you a star for trying.” 
“This is not funny,” Jungkook mumbled, moving away from the door so you couldn’t hear him. The artificial lights above his head were sharp, buzzing mockingly. “You two keep saying that you’re here to help me, but you keep making stuff like this happen. If she really did like me, you just ruined everything.”
Yoongi raised one eyebrow. “Why do you care so much about that one?”
Jungkook glanced at him. “You told me she’s the one.”
He frowned, crossing his arms. “I told you she was the right girl from physiology class, not that you two were going to die holding hands or something,” Yoongi told him. “You filled the blanks yourself.”
“That’s why we don’t give away all those details,” Taehyung scolded Yoongi, looking at him up and down. Jungkook had never seen him so irritated before — at least not about serious things. “You know we could get in real big trouble if someone heard about that. Which, correct me if I’m wrong, it’s kind of the entire deal of heaven to know about stuff.” 
“I know, I know,” Yoongi groaned, disregarding his preoccupations. Maybe Taehyung didn’t understand his galaxy-brain plan yet, but he was sure that the heavens would. Or at least he hoped so. “But I think there’s something else that we need to focus on. Jungkook wouldn’t care this much about the other girls he dated, even if it was meant to be.” 
“Why are you two talking like I’m not here?” Jungkook asked, annoyed. 
“Why are you talking to yourself like you’re not in a corridor of an apartment building?” Yoongi threw back. Without a second of hesitation, Jungkook picked up his backpack and turned on his heels, walking down the hall, completely done with them. “Hey, come back. Just tell me what’s the fuzz with this one.” 
He didn’t look back. “Aren’t you two supposed to know? All-knowing and shit.” 
“We want to hear it from you,” Yoongi pressed on. 
Jungkook opened the heavy door to the stairwell, allowing for it to hit behind him. Taehyung and Yoongi passed right through it, of course, and kept following him as he quickly moved down the concrete steps. “Y/N is my friend.”
Yoongi hummed. “Go on.”
“Isn’t that enough for a justification? What else do you want from me?” He inquired, aggressive. The sound of his steps echoed like drums through the expansion of the staircase, and he hoped that no one else had been listening to his apparent monologue. “I don’t wanna ruin this friendship by talking about her masturbation techniques, I don’t know if that makes the situation super unique.” 
Taehyung clicked his tongue. “You have other friends.” 
“I care for her, alright?” Jungkook turned around abruptly, making the two ghosts stop in their tracks. Taehyung had almost lost his balance, but it wasn’t as if that could have any serious consequences for him. 
Jungkook sighed, trying to control the anger that had built up so rapidly, and continued speaking. “I care for her more than other friends. Fuck, is that what you two wanted to hear? Besides, it’s not like I know anyone better than her.  I didn’t even think I had a chance with someone like that until you told me. She’s smart, she’s funny, she’s like… super hot when she’s mad—”
“Oh, would you look at that.” Yoongi grinned, satisfied. “Jungkook’s whipped.”
“What?” His eyes widened. “I’m not.”
“Why are you so red?” Taehyung asked.
Jungkook covered his face, feeling the heat of his checks emanating against his palms. “I’m not!”
“Okay, okay, calm down, tiger,” Yoongi raised his hands in a silent request for forgiveness.  They were still a few steps above Jungkook, and the whole scene looked like something straight out of the Book of Revelation. “This is a good thing, we actually thought it would never happen. It’s not like you’ve been this introspective in what… five years? More even.” 
He narrowed his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 
Yoongi sighed, and looked at Taehyung for confirmation. The other ghost nodded in a silent agreement, and Yoongi started to speak. “Listen, we’re here to help you, but we didn’t say everything,” he admitted. “We couldn’t, really, otherwise it wouldn’t be so... organic.”
“What?” 
“Jungkook, you were desperate to lose your virginity,” Yoongi explained. “You still are, in a way. And that’s not a good thing, because you’ll get the first thing that moves and you’ll try to stick your dick in it.”
Taehyung chuckled drily, looking at a fixed point. “Which is not a good idea, believe me,” he spoke in a mumble, and Jungkook could not help but think that his advice came from personal experience. That, of course, was a story for other, less sober times. 
“Is that why the two of you always interrupt me?” He asked, a bit offended. “Because those girls weren’t right for me? Like this is a purity cult or something?” 
“Eh.” Yoongi did a so-so gesture with his hand. “Kind of. Not really. Doesn’t matter. What matters is that you actually feel something for this girl, something beyond the thoughts that come from your lower head.”
“And she feels something for you too, even after that trainwreck that we just witnessed in there,” Taehyung added patiently. “Which will help us a lot in the long run.”
“This doesn’t make any sense.” Jungkook crossed his arms, stubborn. He really could look and sound like a child throwing a tantrum when he wanted to. “I still don’t get it. It wasn’t your place to tell me who I could or couldn’t be with, it’s not as if you guys are—” 
“Jungkook, that’s enough,” Taehyung interrupted him. “You don’t think it makes sense? Stop and think for once in your life.” 
He narrowed his eyes. “What did you say?” 
Taehyung glanced at him. “Listen, we just saved you from months of wrong dates and wrong nights. We pushed away people who didn’t really care about you, who just wanted you to use you, or who would end up cheating on you anyways. Not everyone gets this privilege,” he said, completely done with that victim mentality. “So, for once in your life, be grateful. Be grateful for the bad dates,  the embarrassment, the times that it didn’t work out. And, look, we are sorry for the way they had to go down, it wasn’t as funny as it seemed from our perspective. But if you didn’t have those bad dates, you’d have very, very bad months following them. So you’re welcome.” 
“And all those bad dates lead you to the right person,” Yoongi completed, watching as Jungkook’s expression withered into shame. He was staring to get it — they could almost see the hamster in his brain start running. “Now, listen, we don’t know if this is the for-life situation, that’s not the kind of information we have, alright? Do I look like a seraphin to you? No. But does it matter?  No. Most relationships aren’t the for-life thing anyways, but they are here to teach you something. And if the afterlife thought that there was something good for you here, who are we to judge?” 
“Yeah,” Taehyung agreed. “Now, can you  please forget about all those past people and just focus on her? Maybe shut the fuck up while you do that? I get that you wanted to get your dick wet, but there’s a time and a place for that.” 
The boy sighed, and leaned against the red handrails. It took Jungkook a few seconds to speak out. “I feel like I’ve just been lectured by my parents,” he admitted. 
Taehyung relaxed his shoulders. “Good,” he said. “I’ve been meaning to slap some sense into you for months now, but I didn’t really have the permission.” 
“Feel better?” Jungkook asked.
He nodded. “Much better.”
“I’m happy for you,” he said. Jungkook ran one hand through his dark hair, pushing back the strands that had fallen over his eyes. “And about Y/N… There’s no way she’ll ever talk to me after this mess. I ruined everything.”
Taehyung nodded. “You pretty much did, yeah.” 
“You took the worst case scenario and managed to make it even more horrible,” Yoongi said. “It’s pretty impressive, actually.” 
“Thanks, that’s great.” Jungkook chuckled, humorless. He could always count on them for emotional support. “But, I mean… What do I do now? I mean, is there anything that we could do to save this?” 
“Worry not, my child,” Yoongi smirked, crossing his arms. “Taehyung and I are masters of seduction, and we’re here to help you. Just trust us.” 
“And before you say something,” Taehyung interrupted, raising one finger. “You never had the right girl before, so we weren’t really trying. I think we can find some real solid ground here.” 
Jungkook breathed out, and looked down at the grey stairs. Yeah, it’s not like he wasn’t at the bottom of the well already. “Fine. One last chance,” he agreed, looking back at the ghosts. “Just tell me what I have to do.”
______________
Much to Jungkook’s delight, he didn’t need to muster up the courage to talk to you, because you did that first. 
For the first time in their lives (and deaths), Yoongi and Taehyung actually did something right. Jungkook didn’t really know the details of their plan, all that he knew was that they would find a way to “make you see what you were missing” so that you would “come crawling back to him”. Which didn’t sound threatening at all.
 Countless possibilities crossed Jungkook’s head — horror movie hauntings, Taehyung invading your dreams with claws for fingers, Yoongi with a wet wig crawling out of your TV — but, in the end, no matter how much he insisted, the two of them just wouldn’t say a word. Apparently, there was a lot going on backstage that Jungkook had no idea about, so he should just “take it easy” and wait for the sequence of events to unravel. Amazing. Now he knew how the characters in Final Destination felt. 
“Just be patient, young one,” Taehyung had told him, thrown over his couch like a Victorian monarch. “All you need to know is that she will be back. Everything else it’s just… details.” 
And, two weeks after the dormitory incident, you did. 
There was a muffled thud as you placed your large books over the wooden table, and sat down across from him. The silence of the library didn’t allow for Jungkook to foresee your arrival, and to meet your gaze so suddenly was enough for his face to burn up in shame, his heart drumming against his ribcage. His sympathetic system really needed to quit with that bullshit before he collapsed. 
“Hey,” you mumbled, seeming just as uncomfortable as he was. “Can we talk? You know what about.”
The boy swallowed dry, and leaned a bit forward. “Y-Yeah, sure,” he whispered back. “I’m really sorry, Y/N, I don’t know why I thought—”
“For how long?” you sliced his sentence short, making his lips fall shut. 
Jungkook raised his eyebrows in surprise. “What?”
You cleared your throat, and shuffled on your seat. As much as the library was practically empty, neither of you felt courageous enough to use your usual voice tone — especially when dealing with that subject. “How long have you been able to, you know, see them?”
Jungkook took a second to respond, licking his dry lips and looking at the line of bookshelves as if seeking for the right thing to say. He felt awkward enough just interacting with someone from the opposite sex, but talking about the ghosts he saw? Hell, that bordered on a panic attack. Especially after the circus show that was that past study session. “Almost two years now, I think,” he finally answered. “But they told me they’ve been around for a bit longer. I just couldn’t see it.” 
You shook your head in concordance, even if the information was everything but easy to understand. “That’s crazy,” you spoke. “I don’t know how you deal with it.” 
Jungkook let out a dry chuckle. “Not very well, as you can probably tell.” 
 “I don’t think I can judge you. I didn’t precisely react well either.” You swallowed dry, wide eyes flickering on the world behind Jungkook. “Are we alone now?”
As much as he already knew the answer, he looked around just to check. “Surprisingly, yeah,” Jungkook responded, slightly suspicious. Yoongi and Taehyung were always looking over his shoulder and throwing him into messy situations, he couldn’t tell why they weren’t there when, quite frankly, it was their perfect shot at humiliation. Maybe they really were doing their jobs for once. “I don’t know why they’re not here. That’s weird.”
You shrugged as if to say that you wouldn’t know either. “What are their names again?”
“Yoongi and Taehyung,” he answered, then waited another second to see if he could feel their presence. Nothing again. That was really strange — they often responded upon being called. “Listen, Y/N, I hate what we went through. They had no right to say those things. I’m used to the privacy issues, since I have been with them for a while. But you aren’t, and I can only imagine how weird you felt hearing all that. I’m really, really sorry.”
You pressed your lips together which, Jungkook guessed, was a failed attempt to suppress the rubor that exploded across your cheeks. He couldn’t blame you, though, for there were limits that were crossed. “I’m over it if you are,” was what you forced yourself to say. 
“I am,” he lied. None of you were particularly good at not telling the truth, and that was pretty obvious. But ignoring it was a start. 
“Good, okay.” You cleared your throat, placing the palms of your hands against the pile of books. “Sorry for lying about needing help in physiology, and all that. I just needed an excuse to spend more time with you, as you know now. I guess it’s obvious that I kinda have a huge crush on you.”
“It’s fine.” Jungkook laughed, extremely relieved to notice that your last sentence was in present tense. “I kinda have a huge crush on you too.” 
Honestly, even if it wasn’t for life, he’d have to give you props for still liking a guy that had had a borderline psychotic breakdown in your apartment, talked about your pet tortoise, and your masturbation technique, and still had the nerve to expose you to the supernatural world. It was a lot. Good on you for taking it like a champ. 
“And,” he continued, “sorry for using my ghosts to expose your secrets. I just needed to find a way for you to believe me, and I had no idea about what they were going to say. I was pretty much in a frenzied state, I wasn’t thinking straight. It won’t happen again.” 
“Apologies accepted.” You smiled, relieved. You were really beautiful, Jungkook thought in a breathless instant. He could look at you all day. “You know, it’s going to take me some time to get used to all that. I mean, I’m still not a hundred percent sure I believe in everything, but, I… My lamp flew across the room, and you told me things that you simply couldn’t know about. So, if it’s a prank, it’s a really good one.”
“I know how it is.” He nodded in agreement. “It was really difficult for me at first, too. I understand if you’d rather just stay away from me from now on.” 
You sighed, looking down at your books —  the two mammoth-sized volumes of Harrison’s Internal Medicine staring at you in mockery. “Weird thing is: I don’t really want to.” You crossed your arms and leaned back against the chair. Was that the sound of angels singing? Jungkook couldn’t tell. “I’d love to spend more time with you. Alone, if possible. And that counts both planes of existence.” 
“Sounds fair, I’d love that.” Jungkook smiled. As he met your eyes, he was filled with a  warm, rose-colored courage that he had never felt before. “Actually, I was wondering if, you know… you wanna do something? With me? Alone, of course. No ghosts. One of these days, I don’t know. If you’re not busy—”
You raised your eyebrows, interested. “You’re asking me out?”
He sighed, shoulders falling in defeat. “Trying, yeah. You can see I’m not the best at that either.”
Your smile grew a little. “That’s a big yes.”
“Really?” Jungkook stared at you like a lost puppy, his mind going completely blank for a second or two. The hamster in his brain was now somersaulting through his body, landing on his stomach and hitting him with a wave of nausea. “Wow, thanks. I don’t really have an idea of what we could do, though. Didn’t think I’d get that far.”
There was an instant of quietude as you thought for a moment, the space between the two of you permeated by the vague sounds of pages turning. “Movies?” You asked. 
“Sounds great.” Jungkook smiled openly, his shoulders falling in alleviation. He didn’t know what Taehyung and Yoongi had done, but he was beyond thankful for it. Seemed like their sacrifices weren’t in vain, after all. “The film majors are doing this 2000’s marathon this week. I think this Saturday it’ll be either Mean Girls or 17 Again.”
“I’m in,” you spoke excitedly. “I’ll be there, just text me the details.”
Jungkook almost swallowed his own tongue as he watched you stand up, presenting him with a gorgeous view of thighs beneath the level of your skirt. “Great!” He exclaimed a bit too loud, his voice a bit too high-pitched, awakening his inner thirteen-year-old. He cleared his throat, lowering his voice another octave. “I mean, yeah, great. Thank you for… saying yes.”
“Thank you for asking.” You placed your hair behind your shoulder, and leaned in to pick up the heavy pile of books. All nine kilos of Internal Medicine. 
“See you there,” he said. 
You smiled. “See you, Kookie.” 
Jungkook watched you walk away as if he was floating in a fever dream, completely unable to believe what had just unfolded. Did he seriously manage to get a date with you? Of all people? He must’ve been hallucinating. Maybe he ended up falling down the stairwell and died, perhaps that was his heaven, and he would— 
Behind him, Taehyung sneered. “Kookie? You’re getting softer than your dick.” 
Jungkook turned around so brusquely that the chair tilted back and, if it wasn’t for him holding down to the corner of the table, he would’ve fallen to the ground. “You two were there all along?” He whispered-screamed. Before he could land a sermon on them, though, he met the devilish smirk that was plastered all over Yoongi’s features. Oh no. No. The movies. “No, Yoongi, I know what you’re thinki—”
“Get in, loser, we’re going to the movies.” 
_________________
Saturday rolled around and, with it, came your much anticipated movie date. Jungkook had spent the previous night tossing and turning on his bed, completely monopolized by anxiety, thinking about every possible apocalyptic scenario that could go down. What if he tried to take a slip of his drink, but ended up blinding himself with the straw? Maybe he would step on the wrong chord and set the entire college on fire. Or maybe he would trip, fall down on a poor girl, and kill her on the spot. That would be awful, you would never talk to him again after any of that — the imaginary disappointment in your face was like a punch in the gut. 
Was he being ridiculous? Obviously. Did that stop his pre-date panic? Obviously not. 
Still, with the might of a thousand warriors, Jungkook managed to drag himself to your date, his knees almost giving out beneath him when he saw you — he didn’t believe you would actually come, for some of him still thought it was all a sadistic heaven prank. Somehow, he blurted out a compliment about how good you looked while he was having a heart attack, and almost lost his consciousness when you smiled at him. 
Yep, it would be a difficult night. 
The movie marathon consisted of three 2000’s movies, and the two of you managed to arrive right before Mean Girls started, fumbling on your seats as the rest of the room grew quiet. The makeshift classroom didn’t look like a movie theater in the slightest, but it wasn’t as if you were expecting that in the first place — it was nothing more than an agglomeration of chairs and desks, combined with a few puff chairs and old couches scattered around. Much to your delight, you and Jungkook managed to grab one of those couches before another couple returned to their seats, and he could see that his ghost buddies had already found their own place on the empty chairs behind the two of you. 
Surprise! None of the catastrophic scenarios in his mind actually came true. In fact, he had a great time with you, laughing at your jokes and sometimes flat-out stealing Yoongi’s commentary just to make you chuckle, which granted him a few mumbled complaints coming from the back row. 
“Jungkook is so superior, don’t you think, Taehyung?” Yoongi mocked, and Jungkook was sure that he would be kicking his seat if he could. “So smart. So great. But can’t even figure out his own jokes. Has to steal them from a poor dead man. You’re a grave robber.” 
Taehyung chuckled. “Hey, you’re helping him, at least. That’s our whole point here.”
“Grave robber!” he repeated, more aggressively this time. “I can’t believe you’d ruin Mean Girls for me like this. Not even hell would be so cruel.” 
“How dare you say that about hell? If I get in trouble because you can’t keep your mouth shut, Yoongi, I swear to God—”
“Now you’re saying God’s name in vain, you heretic! That’s so much worse!” 
Jungkook had to bite back a laugh as the two continued bickering behind him, only half aware of the scene in which Regina George glued her own picture on the burn book. He didn’t know when exactly he had done it — he had been so on edge the entire night that it was almost as if his own brain was instantly deleting his memories, but he had managed to curl one arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. He was sure that you could hear the frantic heartbeat of his heart against his chest, but he didn’t mind. He didn’t think he could even get that far. 
But he did, and even reached beyond that. 
Once the screen faded to black and the credits started appearing, there was a resounding wave of claps in the room, cheering for the absolute cultural reset that was that movie. One of the students moved to the front of the room, explaining that they would take a ten minutes break, then would return with She’s All That. Apparently, 1999 was close enough to the 2000’s for it to be picked as well. 
“Do you wanna stay and watch it?” He asked, fighting every muscle in his body not to smell your hair. He knew that it would be super creepy, yeah, but your head was right there and it smelled so good. 
You removed your body from his chest, looking up at him. “I would love to, but I have to wake up early tomorrow to study,” you said. “Big test on Monday.” 
“Sure, yeah.” Jungkook nodded, slightly let down. To be honest, he had completely forgotten that information until that point. Seems like he would have a lot to catch up on during the next day. “I’ll walk you to your dorm.” 
You thanked him with a smile, and you two got moving. 
The walk back to your place wasn’t exactly awkward, but it could have also been a lot better. The two of you talked about the movie animatedly, the subject that you had to study — an awful amount of gastric pathology to memorize — and, eventually, landed on your weirdest experiences during hospital rounds. You were in the middle of telling him how two toddlers (twins) managed to puke on you at the same time, and how you thought that was a sign of a telepathic connection between the two, when he felt the back of his hand brush against yours, and everything around him turned into static. Suddenly, it was all that he could think about. 
Jungkook had already spent the entire date with questions flying around his head. When was the right time to pull you close? Could he hold your hand, or would that be too bold? Could you smell how sweaty he was? Or maybe his deodorant was too strong? If he ran away, trained to be an astronaut, and joined the Mars colonization mission, would he be able to avoid embarrassing himself again? 
And, more importantly: would it be weird to kiss you goodnight? 
Considering the fact that he had no clue how to read your body language, and that almost all of his romantic experience came from bad sitcoms and Twilight marathons with Yoongi, Jungkook didn’t judge himself suited to answer that last question. He didn’t know if he should hold your hand, he didn’t know if you were just being polite or if you actually had a good time. Again and again, his anxiety got the best of him. He should really get back to seeing his campus counselor. 
“So… we’re here,” you said, holding your hands in front of your body. You had stopped at the entrance of your block, and Jungkook took that as a sign that you didn’t want him to go all the way back to your apartment. Fair enough. “Thank you for tonight, I had a lot of fun. We should do this again sometimes.” 
“For sure, yeah.” Jungkook nodded, somewhat relieved that you asked for that. At least that was a clear sign that you didn’t completely hate him. “That would be great.” 
You agreed and looked down at your shoes. The darkness of the night enveloped the two of you, only half of your features illuminated by the dim yellow shine of the nearest light post. Jungkook almost fainted when you stared into his eyes, with a faint blush painting your cheeks, and questioned, “So, you’re not gonna kiss me?” 
Windows’ blue screen. Please, hold.
 “I… I, uh—” Jungkook’s mouth felt as if he had just swallowed an entire desert, his brain fighting to keep his voice steady. Your eyes, so focused and expectant, felt like daggers against his chest. “I didn’t know if you wanted to,” he finally admitted. 
Your shoulders fell as a tender smile curled up on your roseate lips. Jungkook thought you were the most beautiful thing he had ever had the pleasure of seeing. “I do,” you told him gently. His heart almost leaped out of his throat. “Do you want to?” 
And that was the easiest question that he would ever answer. “Yeah,” Jungkook said. 
You smiled. “Perfect.” 
The boy barely had time to react before your hand was curling around the fabric of his shirt, and you pulled him towards you in a playful tug. Jungkook’s eyes stayed comically widened for a second after your lips met, but, soon enough, he allowed himself to melt into your embrace, his nervous hands landing on your waist, and his mind instantly calming down. 
He kissed you slowly, carefully, almost afraid that, at the faintest of movements, reality would shatter and he would lose that moment forever. Of course, it didn’t, and he stayed on that instant a bit longer before, at last, he pulled away, slightly breathless. 
“I should’ve done that sooner,” he confessed. 
You tilted your head at him, fingers playing with his hair. “It happened at the right time,” you said. “Some things can’t be rushed. Especially the good ones.” 
Just like that, he understood what Taehyung and Yoongi had been saying all those years. No matter how cliche it was, there was some truth to the saying that ‘what is supposed to happen, will’. And, the better that something is, the more work it will require. 
But, as he kissed you again, Jungkook realized that it was all worth it in the end.
____________
The following months by your side were so amazing that Jungkook constantly brought back his theory that “maybe he was actually dead, and that was heaven.” And, if it was, he would make sure to shake God’s hand himself because, holy fuck, was he one lucky man. 
Okay, maybe the first few weeks together were a bit painfully cringe-worthy, but he was really trying to pretend as if they didn’t happen. Jungkook didn’t really get the memo, and he had to slowly figure out how to behave romantically with you. He got it wrong the first few times — kissing you at the worst possible moment, or sending you a huge bouquet of roses during your microbiology exam — but, eventually, you guided him towards more neutral grounds. Then everything went smoothly. 
Surprisingly, even the undead duo calmed down for a while. Yoongi and Taehyung were still around, since they had no other option, but were much quieter now, only making punctual remarks when Jungkook made a fool out of himself. Hell, they even left the room when things started getting more serious between the two of you, instead of giving Cosmopolitan-worthy advice, and that was a huge improvement. 
But, of course, it wouldn’t be Jungkook’s life if there wasn’t a huge joke waiting just around the corner. Soon enough, another issue would present itself. 
It came in the form of a warm mumble against his lips, and the vague — yet deliciously noticeable — rolling of your hips against his own. “Jungkook,” you called, breathless after a long make-out session. The two of you were on his couch, with you sitting on his lap, straddling him. “I want you.” 
He froze. What else would he do? Jungkook was a panicked virgin. He knew that your intimate times would happen eventually — and he really wanted them to — but he didn’t expect that his mind would completely malfunction once he got so close, with his erection growing inside his pants and the softness of your breasts pressing against his torso. It was just a lot, alright? 
And, lost amidst the tempestuous sea of his sudden despair, all that he could utter back was, “Are… Are you sure you want to do this right now?” 
“Yeah.” You placed a strand of hair behind your ear. Jungkook thought that he could faint on the spot. It was actually a pretty common sensation with him. “You don’t want it?”
“No — I mean yeah! Yeah, I want it.” He choked on his words, looking down in embarrassment, only to meet the contour of your thighs. His youth leader had been right all along: temptation was everywhere. “I’m just… I’ve never done anything before.” 
“Hey, it’s okay,” you tried to calm him down, placing your hands on his shoulders. The heat of your palms seemed to have some effect on the chaotic emotions that boiled inside him, for his muscles relaxed considerably under your touch. “I won’t pressure you, okay? If you want to take more time, it’s completely fine.” 
“No, it’s not like that. I don’t feel pressured.” He shook his head, then looked up at you. You could almost feel the conflict inside his gaze, the mixture of anticipation and fear that you knew all too well. “I want you, Y/N, I really do. I’m just nervous.”
“It’s fine,” you repeated. “We don’t have to do anything now, and we can start slo—”
But he couldn’t listen to the end of your phrase, because a familiar voice damn near hollered from the other side of the room. “Taehyung, come in here! Quick!” Yoongi yelled, signaling through the door like he was controlling the air traffic. “He’s getting some! Jungkook’s about to get his cherry popped the fuck off!” 
You tilted your head to the side, staring him down with preoccupation. “Jungkook? Are you okay?”
“The fuck! There is no fucking way!” Taehyung’s voice got louder as he yelled, signaling his growing proximity. “Call NASA right now!”
Jungkook sighed, throwing his head against the couch. Goodbye erection, and goodbye any chance of having sex that day. “Yoongi and Taehyung just showed up,” he mumbled bitterly. 
You lowered your gaze and took a deep breath, then removed yourself from his lap. Jungkook hated the lack of heat, and he swore he would have drop-kicked the two if they weren’t in a different dimension. The certainty of death was all that he needed to know that he would get his revenge some day. “Of course they did,” you complained, fixing your clothes. “I love being cockblocked by cockless ghosts. Again.”
“Hey!” Taehyung sounded actually offended. 
Jungkook turned around harshly, his voice bitter. “Can the two of you just fuck off? This is not the time.” 
“So you two can fuck?” Yoongi grinned, then looked at Taehyung. “We should, actually.”
“Jungkook… this is too weird now.” You raised your hands in a silent bargain for it all to stop. You could deal with a few psychic sessions every once in a while, but being a voyeurism victim for ghosts wouldn’t be the way you wanted to spend your afternoon. “Let’s do this another time, okay? I should get going anyways. Big day at the hospital tomorrow.” 
He took one of his hands to his face, massaging his temple. You got up from the couch, reaching for your backpack. “Yeah, okay.” The boy pouted, and you leaned in to give him a quick peck on the lips. Disappointing end for a night, to say the least. “Good luck tomorrow. Text me if you get an interesting case!”  
“Thanks! I will.” You threw your backpack strap over your shoulder and started walking towards the exit. Jungkook couldn’t blame you for just wanting to leave that place as soon as possible, he was sure that the discomfort was much worse for you. “Bye, Jungkook! I’ll let you know when I get to my place.”
He opened his mouth to thank you, but you were already out the door. The lock clicked shut, and the silence became thick, mocking him. Even if he already had an actual girlfriend, Jungkook still found himself being left behind by someone that would never want to see him again — dick semi-hard and morale shattered on the ground. Seems like he always found himself back in that position. 
Taehyung materialized on the couch next to him, hugging his knees. He was staring at the closed door, somewhat expecting that you would come back, but knowing very well that you wouldn’t do so. “Okay, I accept that it was our fault,” he said, oscillating his gaze towards Jungkook. “Sorry, man. We are like, super invested in this. There’s almost nothing interesting going on in the afterlife and this is, like, better than any TV show airing right now.” 
Jungkook rolled his eyes, utterly exhausted at the mess that had become his life. He was done giving them sermons: it had basically turned into the world’s worst pastime and gave little to no results. “You know what? Just promise me you’re not going to show up next time.” He stared both of them down. “I don’t wanna be watched, that’s just weird. And I know that Y/N isn’t happy about that either.” 
Yoongi shrugged. “Some people like it.” 
“Yeah, I’m not one of those people,” he told him. “Guys, please. I know you two are as excited as I am about this, and I appreciate your... support, but I think this is something I need to do alone. In peace. Not being watched by spirits. That’s isn’t too much to ask.”  
“He’s right, you know?” Taehyung said, looking back at Yoongi. “We should stay in our lane for now.” 
The other ghost looked down at his feet, which basically morphed into the carpet beneath them. For the first time in two long years, he actually seemed like he was rethinking his actions. “Yeah, sorry,” Yoongi responded. “We got carried away. We’ll leave next time. Maybe try something when your neighbors are having a movie night.” 
Jungkook’s shoulders fell in alleviation.  Maybe not everything was doomed. “Thank you,” he spoke, then nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I’ll probably do that. When is the next one?” 
Taehyung looked at Yoongi, then back at him. “What are the chances that you’re gonna get your virgin shit together by tomorrow night?”  
___________
Slim to none, actually, but he had managed to (kind of) do it. Focus on the “kind of.”
Jungkook had spent the previous night doing in-depth research about sexual intercourse,  and basing his actions in real-life situations. That meant that he stayed up until four in the morning watching porn. Not masturbating. Just watching it very closely and trying to learn what to do — like an actual serial killer. 
“Do you think that this is… a good idea?” Taehyung spoke from the other side of his room, preoccupation plastered all over his face. The whole porn-science was funny for the first twenty minutes, and then it just ended up being terrifying. “You know that people don’t actually have sex like that, right? It’s all exaggerated.” 
“Quiet!” Jungkook raised his finger after a particularly loud moan echoed, his eyes red and glued to the computer screen. The white light from his device was awfully sharp, bathing his figure and making his image border on demonic. It really wasn’t a good look. “I’m researching. I need to know what to do.” 
“You look and sound like a maniac.” Taehyung walked closer to the bed, measuring his movements. After he died, he thought that he would never be afraid of any other living thing — but Jungkook had just proved him wrong. Against his best judgement, he took a peek at the screen. “No! Oh my— That’s not natural. That’s so wrong. You should know, you studied anatomy.” 
“I’m not gonna do this tomorrow,” Jungkook mumbled, closing the video. Taehyung recoiled back to the darkness of the room like a vampire that had just been touched by the sun. “The plot was interesting.” 
“You’re not even hard, man,” he said, pointing at Jungkook’s trousers. “This is like, really weird. You should stop before you have some problem getting it up tomorrow.” 
“What are you trying to say?” He narrowed his eyes, paranoid. “That wouldn’t happen. I know what I can do.”  
“You’re the medical student, take a look,” Taehyung insisted. “There’s research about that, pornography affects young men and women a lot and— Actually, what the fuck am I talking about? This is crazy. I should’ve left with Yoongi.” 
“Wait, I just—” Jungkook closed his computer with a sigh. His hair was disheveled and his gaze was unfocused. It really was the oddest night in Taehyung’s life/death. “I just don’t know what to do tomorrow. I’m about to have an anxiety attack. It’s like the third one tonight.” 
Taehyung pressed his lips together, the discomfort inside him being replaced by a warm sense of understanding. “Man, she knows you don’t have experience. She isn’t expecting a porn star performance, or whatever the fuck you were just watching.” He pointed to the computer, which was now neglected amongst the sea of blankets. “By the way, I’m a changed spirit. I hate you for making me see that.” 
Jungkook would have laughed at his distress if he wasn’t too tired to do that. “Technically, you decided to look at it yourself,” he corrected. “But, yeah, I know she’s not expecting anything great. But I don’t wanna make a fool out of myself, you know? Not like it’s a rare occasion or anything.” 
Taehyung shrugged. Being alive made everything seem so much more important than it actually was, he thought. “Lay back and let her take the lead, then.” 
Jungkook furrowed his brow, his eyes widening at the idea. Of course! That was the big  galaxy brain moment he needed all along. “Are you serious? It’s that simple?” He asked, hopeful. 
Taehyung chuckled. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see.” 
Yeah. It was that simple. Who would’ve thought that those see-through idiots actually would have something intelligent to say? 
Really, it was a time of miracles in Jungkook’s life. The following day, the planets aligned and, for the first time ever since puberty, everything went right for him: the class ended a bit early, his neighbors decided to watch two movies instead of one, and his place was perfectly devoid of any paranormal activity by the time you wandered into it. 
He didn’t tell you that he had planned that entire thing before it happened — he thought it would be super strange to schedule his virginity loss out loud — and he was glad to see that everything evolved naturally. One hour and forty minutes after you arrived, you two were already at the same point that you had left the day before — only, this time, you two actually managed to get to his bed.
“They’re not here, are they? You’re sure?” You asked in between kisses for what should’ve been the fifth time. 
“No, I asked them to leave earlier.” Jungkook’s hands pressed down on your hips, the sensation of your center rolling against his erection eliciting a sigh from him. Ha! Fuck Taehyung and his soft dick curse. “I actually… Before we do anything, I actually wanted to know if you could, you know, help me a little.” 
You hummed, taking your face away from his. Jungkook watched as you licked your lips, your eyes dazed, and leaned in to place another kiss against his mouth. “In what way?” You asked. 
“Just... show me what to do,” he said. “What you like, if I’m doing something wrong… everything.” 
With a soft smile, you agreed, arms curling around his shoulders. “Of course,” you told him. “It’ll be my pleasure.” 
That being said, you dove back to his lips, feeling as he both simultaneously relaxed and tensed up under your touches. Jungkook had evolved a lot in those past few months, you realized, since the early-dating version of him wouldn’t find himself in that position without turning into a stuttering, blushing mess beneath you. It was kind of cute, but you’d never say that out loud. 
You felt his hands trailing up your back, underneath your clothes, his palms dwelling in the softness of your skin for a moment before, in a courageous movement, he decided to pull your shirt up. There was a short separation of your mouths as the piece of clothing slid up your arms, and collapsed against the floor in a puddle of cotton. 
Jungkook sighed once he felt the lace of your bra against his hands; the softness of your breasts was something that he continuously daydreamed about. Now, without the barrier of your clothes, all that he needed was to remove that last constriction and he would be— 
“Oh well…” He chuckled nervously, fumbling with your bra. “Sorry, I don’t know how to open this.”
You smiled at the embarrassment that danced around his features. “Relax, okay?” You said, moving your hands to your back and taking care of that problem yourself. You’d teach him about the magic of unclasping bras another time. “It’s fine.”
But Jungkook didn’t have time to think about an answer, for soon your bra was meeting your shirt on the floor. His reaction would’ve been the same if you just moved over and came back with a baby dinosaur in your hands — his eyes widening in amazement as he took in the image of your nude breasts, a small whimper perishing in his throat as he slithered his hands upward, cupping them. 
Your breath stopped for a moment when he leaned in, reluctant, and enveloped one of your nipples with his warm mouth, his tongue delicately coming out to trace circles on your sensitive flesh. Jungkook groaned at the sensation, his cock becoming unbearably hard against his pants, and tilted your body over so he could be on top of you. 
You curled up against the sheets, sighing in delight as the boy continued to work on your breasts, kissing and sucking lightly, taking his time. Every time you looked down, you could see that Jungkook was having almost as much fun as you, the small moans that dripped from his tongue vibrating inside your chest. 
“Does it feel good?” He raised his gaze towards you, expectant. “Am I doing a good job?” 
“Yes, very good.” Your hands curled around the roots of his hair. The action was gentle, but Jungkook shuddered under the sensation — every small movement proved itself to be a lot for him to handle. “You’re doing amazing. Is there something that you want to do, Kookie?” 
The boy licked his lips, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed hard. Part of him (probably the sleep deprived one) still didn’t believe that you two were actually doing that — that it wasn’t just a figment of his horny imagination. No, it was real. You were right there in front of him, beautiful and devastating, caressing his hair as you waited for an answer. 
“I… I want to make you feel good,” he said, wide-eyed and hesitant. His dick felt painfully hard being so constructed by his pants and, suddenly, he became aware of how clothed he still was. No wonder it was so hot. “Just tell me what you want me to do.” 
Your lips curled up at his adorableness, one of your hands meeting his wrist. Patiently, you guided it down, and placed it on the hem of your pants. “Can you touch me?” You questioned. “I can tell you what I like.” 
“Oh, please,” he almost pleaded, his hand already fumbling to open your pants. Much to his delight, those were a lot easier than your bra, and they were soon sliding down your legs with ease. 
He took a moment to take in your form, eyes traveling up from your legs, to your hips, then all the way back to your breasts. As Jungkook met your gaze, he allowed for a suspire of relief to depart from his mouth, shoulders relaxing. “I’m so lucky,” he spoke, “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”
The smile that you presented him looked brighter than all of the stars above. “Come here,” you called, leaning against your elbows. “Give me a kiss.” 
Obedient, Jungkook did as you requested, a grunt escaping his chest once you pulled him into a sloppy kiss, nails brushing lightly against the skin of his neck. He had goosebumps at the sensation, his hand moving by its own will, navigating down your stomach and towards your heat. 
His fingers hovered, insecure, over the hem of your panties for a moment. Still, at the sound of his name being spoken against the kiss, he was overtaken by an ephemeral spark of courage. Soon, your panties were on the floor too. 
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Jungkook whined at the contact, his fingers dwelling just above your entrance. Inside his pants, his cock twitched at the sensation, his lower body already tingling with excitement. He didn’t know how he would manage not to cum in his pants, but he would have to find a way. “What do I do now?” 
“Now...” you said, leaning your head against the pillow. “Move up and find my clit. Make all those hours of anatomy worth it,” you joked. 
Jungkook nodded, but anatomy was much more difficult when he wasn’t actually looking at a certain part of the body — he was much more interested in watching your expression. Embarrassed, he did as you requested, trailing his wet fingers up until you told him to stop. “Right there,” you said, sighing once you felt his hand pressing down on it, starting to trace small circular patterns. “That’s it, baby, great job.” 
His heart leaped at the compliment, and his actions became firmer. Jungkook thought he would go insane when he heard you whimper and cry out at the sensation, your hips bucking up against his hand ever so slightly. “You’re so hot,” he breathlessly confessed, his words coming in a hot puff of air against your neck. His digits slowly trailed down, towards your entrance, and he paused. “Can I?” 
“Yeah,” you agreed. 
Jungkook swallowed hard, adventuring one finger inside you. At the sensation of your walls clenching around him, he moaned, biting his lip. “God, you’re so tight,” he told you, adding a second finger. You raised your hips at the contact, hands curling on his hair. “I can’t wait to feel you around my cock.” 
His mouth came back to your breasts, sucking and licking your flesh. Jungkook was a mess, you realized — pressing down his hard member against your thigh, whining against your skin as his fingers curled inside you, sinking into your wetness. God, you weren’t made of steel. “I want it,” you told him, and he didn’t understand your words for a moment. “I want to feel you, Jungkook.” 
And he didn’t need anything else. The boy moved away from your body and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it on the floor alongside the rest of your clothes. It was no time for hesitation— he didn’t know how much of his precious alone time he had left. “Condoms.” He pointed at his nightstand. “Top drawer.” 
You turned around on the bed, reaching for the furniture as the boy unbuckled his belt and clumsily removed his pants. The mattress bounced beneath you as Jungkook tossed himself around, finding a way to lose his balance as he threw his pants on the ground. Much to his relief, you weren’t paying much attention to it. 
He was already panting — in a mixture of excitement and his pathetic effort to remove his pants — by the time that you gave him the condom. “Do you put it on, or do you want me to?” You asked. 
Jungkook had trained on enough bananas to know that he could do it, but he wasn’t gonna let the chance to have you touching him down there pass. “You do it, please.” 
You nodded, sitting next to his expectant figure. Jungkook’s chest rose and fell in anticipation, his muscles glistening with the small droplets of sweat that decorated his caramel skin.  His cock was hard and heavy against the fabric of his grey underwear, practically calling for your care. 
Attentively, you watched as his abdomen tensed up at the feeling of one of your hands pressing down against his clothed erection, delicately moving towards his crown. A gasp tumbled from his lips as you rolled your thumb against it, noticing the wetness that had already accumulated beneath your hand, and he rolled his hips against the pressure. Really, Jungkook was too precious. 
“Please, don’t tease,” he begged, eyes following your every move. His cock throbbed in your hands, needy. “I don’t think I can hold it much longer.” 
With a hum of agreement, you moved your hand away from his erection, and pulled his underwear down gently. Jungkook whimpered at the fiction, and the way his cock was freed from its constraints, bouncing back against his abdomen. The smallest of touches was more than enough for him to lose himself. 
“Shhh, it’s fine,” you calmed him down, slowly (too slowly) rolling the condom on him. His hands clenched into fists next to him, grabbing handfuls of the white sheets. Okay, maybe you were being a bit mean. “Just tell me what you want.” 
Jungkook closed his eyes for a moment, holding back a cry of frustration. “Ride me, please,” his words came out in a plea, his expression so permeated by need that you thought that he could cry if you teased him any further. God, everything was so perfect about him — the glistening in his onyx irises, the reddening of his lips as he bit down on them, trying to fight back a whimper as you placed yourself over him. “I— I need to feel you. I’m going crazy.” 
There was no need for more convincing — again, you weren’t made of steel. 
You sighed as you sank down on his member, one of your hands finding support against his pecs, as the other curled around his cock, guiding him inside you. Jungkook closed his eyes and threw his head against the alabaster pillow, his flower-like lips opening to cry out at the sensation. “Oh fuck,” he cursed. “Oh, baby, that’s so good.” 
Seeing him like that, so submissive, so deliciously responsive to your faintest of touches, was, at the very least, extremely erotic. You loved to see the way he flinched and whined at the sensation of your walls clenching around him, his hands unsure of where they should be on your body. Awfully slow, you rose your hips from him, almost letting him slip out, before you shifted your weight back down, watching as Jungkook moaned out your name. 
God, he was really about to fall apart. 
Slowly, you began setting a pace, moving up and down on his cock. It was a lot slower than Jungkook expected, but it was just the right speed to make him appreciate every sensation of your body wrapping his own. 
“Feels good?” you asked, a bit breathless. The sensation of him filling you up was even better than you had anticipated, and, combined with his shameless exclamations of pleasure, you didn’t think that you’d last much longer either. 
Before he could answer, a tremulous sigh ruptured upon his mouth, reverberating just behind his teeth. Jungkook took another second to find his words, inhaling sharply. “So good,” he spoke, and you almost whined out at the lust that ornamented his voice. “Can you move faster? Please?” 
Maybe in different times, you’d take your time to provoke him a bit more. At that point, though, you’d do anything he wanted you to. “Yeah,” you agreed, doing as requested. The sound of your wetness and the slapping of skin against skin was lewd, filling the room alongside Jungkook’s voice. “Like this?”  
“Fuck, yeah, like this,” he cried out, closing his eyes in absolute euphoria. He could feel the movement of your asscheeks against his palms, the sensation enough to drive him insane. Jungkook was already amazed at the fact that he didn’t embarrass himself with premature ejaculation the second that you removed his underwear — but it didn’t mean that he didn’t get close to it. The second his hands squeezed your ass, he was positive he would end the game a bit earlier than the two of you would like. “It— it feels so good. Please, don’t stop.” 
With a moan, you threw your body forward, placing kisses on the curvature of his neck, a sensation that quickly sent shivers down his skin. The new angle made his cock hit even deeper inside you, causing for you both to melt in pleasure. “You feel so good,” you told him, nails digging against his flesh. The knot in your stomach was all too familiar, and you knew that you wouldn’t take much longer. “I love having you inside me.” 
“Oh, yeah, that’s good.” He mumbled, only half aware of the words leaving his lips. Jungkook’s eyes were dazed and unfocused, looking at nowhere in particular, his fingertips digging in your flesh. “You’re… you’re getting tighter.” 
“Y-Yeah,” you agreed, voice coming out in a moan. “I’m close.” 
He swallowed hard. “I can help,” he said. 
Before you could ask what he was trying to do, Jungkook moved his hand back to your center, two of his fingers playing with your clit. You gasped at the sensation, eyes closing as you kept riding him, rolling your hips, feeling as he reached for every part of you. It was all becoming too much, the pleasure that decorated his features, the  delicious friction of his body against yours, the frail moans that dropped from his tongue like honey. He was just too much. 
With a faint call of his name — a melody that would be stuck in his head forever —, you finally crossed the threshold of your orgasm, and came around him; morphing into a trembling and moaning mess. Jungkook watched, in absolute awe, as your face was monopolized by bliss, your teeth sinking down on your bottom lip and your eyes rolling back. 
He removed his hand from your heat, placing it on your waist. Using every final ounce of energy in your body, you continued riding him. Through parted lids, you noticed that his thighs were starting to shake, signaling that he, too, was close. “Baby,” the boy called out, his fingers digging to the sides of your hips. Jungkook was both trying to guide your movements, and hold himself back to reality. It was a beautiful view — the way his expression lingered somewhere between delight and distress; his hips mindlessly trusting up against yours. “I think I’m gonna cum.” 
You breathed out through your nose, trying to ignore the pleasure that, now, was turning into sensitivity. It felt good, in a way, but you were more focused on his relief at that point. “It’s okay, Kookie,” you told him, “you can let go.”
He had been so polite the entire time, with his “please” and “thank you’s. So, of course, when you told him that it was okay for him to cum, he did just as you requested. 
Jungkook came with gasping breaths and a trembling, high-pitched moan, holding on to you as he thrusted his last sloppy advances towards your core. His hands, weak, fell on the bed besides him, clenching the sheets; eyelashes fluttering down as he dwelled on the afterglow of his pleasure. You could stay there forever, looking at the pink shade that colored his cheeks; the beautiful mess that his black hair had turned into; or the tears of relief that accumulated at the corner of his eyes. 
But everything has to end, even the most beautiful ones. 
His tongue came out to wet his lips, and his eyes, still hooded, met yours. Not even the biggest minds in the renaissance could’ve thought of an image so perfect, so ethereal. “You’re so amazing,” he praised. “That was… amazing.” 
You smiled and leaned in to place a soft kiss against his lips. His member slipped out of you at the action, and his arms curled around your waist, keeping you in place. “You did pretty well,” you mumbled as you lazily curled up against his chest. Jungkook’s body was a delicious source of heat, and you could really get used to that. “I see a bright future ahead of you.”
He hummed, caressing your hair. Jungkook could finally smell it without being creepy, so that was a big victory for him. “You did most of the work,” he said. 
“That’s not an issue.” You nuzzled his neck, pleasantly feeling as goosebumps spread throughout his body. Always so responsive. “I’ll let you take the lead next time, if that sounds good to you.”
Jungkook chuckled. “That’d be great, yeah,” he agreed. Part of him thought about using a few tricks he learned during his late-night research, but he wasn’t super sure that it would be a good idea. Maybe he should keep that card up his sleeve for a bit longer in case he needed to surprise you later. “Do you want to spend the night? It’s kind of late to go back to your place now.”
The words fell from his tongue with ease, surprising the boy for an instant. He noticed that he was much more comfortable in your presence, like the pieces of the puzzle had finally fallen into place. Not because of the sex itself, he realized, but because of the vulnerability and intimacy that came with it. It happened just as it was supposed to. 
 “I’d love to.” You smiled, and placed a kiss against his neck. “But I’m going to kick you out if you start snoring.” 
“Out of my own place?” He asked. 
You sighed, voice filled by traces of your upcoming slumber. “Don’t you test me,” you spoke, wrapping your arms around him. “Medical school is killing me, I need some sleep. And I will get it no matter the price.” 
Jungkook laughed at your tired words, one of his hands caressing your head in infinite delicacy. As he held to your body, curling so perfectly against his own, he knew that everything would be okay. And maybe he needed a good night of sleep too. 
A few minutes later, as he started to feel the sensation of his consciousness slowly drifting away to the land of dreams, a bittersweet sentiment overtook his chest. There was an instant, even if ephemeral, in which Jungkook believed he would never see Yoongi and Taehyung again — after all, the two had already concluded their mission: Jungkook got the girl and there was nothing else left for them to do. In between two consecutive breaths, he felt both relief and solitude. Silence wasn’t as welcoming once he realized no voice could break it. 
Though, his melodramatic moment was short-lived. Behind him, a known timbre cheered for him:
“I’m so proud, I feel like a soccer mom.”
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stylistiquements · 3 years
Text
Day 9 : Scronch'love.
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𐐪𐑂 Pairing : Sapnap x fem!reader {Playlist}
𐐪𐑂 Summary : a lovely afternoon and an ancestral question; when are you going to join the dream smp?
𐐪𐑂 Word count : 1.5k
𐐪𐑂 Warning : swearing
Masterlist | Previous | Next
.・゜゜・  ・゜゜・   .・゜゜・  ・゜゜・
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“Have you been here for a long time?”
“Have you been here for a long time?”
“Have you been here for a long time?”
Time bends and twists into unknowns shapes when well spent. So, you’re so not sure. Long enough for your fairy garden to start looking like at least a proper garden, long enough for your feet to start fidgeting, brushing against the soft fabric of the blanket ever so slightly and softly.
“Can you share your screen?”
“I’m just picking flowers, there’s nothing much to see,” you warn but it never does the proper job.
“That’s fine, I like watching you play.”
“Oh, do you now?”
“Yeah. You’ve been playing for years and you’re still dog water. It's almost soothing,” you hear him grin through the silkiness of his voice.
You smile evasively, palm gripping the mouse and executing on memory. Soon, Sapnap’s satisfied noises hovers and everything is just how it’s supposed to be. You spend a while humming the music of days and nights of the game while building your project. Sap helps from time to time, giving advice when his attention is there and leaving trails of compliments on his way. You don’t think the garden is necessarily that good, you don’t mind either.
“Do you think the tree should go on the left or the right of the pond?” You ask, fingers drumming back and forth between the two options. Right he says. "What about the roses, do I plant some or not?"
“It’s just a detail, don’t hurt your brain too much on that,” he says in a light tone, but you disagree.
“Details are what make things important. Like when you remember I prefer warm pillows so you give me yours, it’s just a detail but it makes me happy.”
“Of course I do; you’re a baby,” he murmurs teasingly.
With an arched eyebrow, you retort, “says you,” and silence follows for a second as you plant the tree on the right of the pond.
“Yeah, Dream already made sure I was aware of that.”
“Not sure why the piss baby thinks he’s qualified to have this conversation, buddy,” you note and Sap chuckles are as vivid as contagious. “Why would he call you a baby anyway? What have you done?”
“I-I’m not telling you.” As soon as the mumbles fades, your phone sends loud vibrations on your desk. You abandon your character to the night and the wildness, picking the phone as you murmur a low oh, okay. Whether it’s to your phone or Sapnap, that, isn’t really clear. Still, Sapnap’s words sound more distant, more of what wonders are made of. On the screen, a twitter notification of a certain Karl Jacobs.
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“You’re not even listening to me anymore,” Sapnap whines.
“I don’t listen to whiny babies, sorry.”
“We’re on the verge of divorce, yn and it’s your fault.”
A scoff skitters out through teasing lips, “But you still talk about me all the time, don’t you?” Your voice drags through different lands, unknown and musky.
“So what?” He splutters all awkward like it’s some kind of confidence that shouldn’t have left his thoughts and, somehow, you’re surprised the almighty confidence has left the game. “Who said that?”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re obsessed with me, admit it,” you demand and though you don’t notice it, too tangled with the moment, the atmosphere is tinted with a different nuance like it’s suddenly dawn at the end of a summer party.
“So are you.”
Now, your heart drums a strange yet familiar rhythm. Something made of secrets and uncertainty, something you decided to leave unnamed a long time ago. Sapnap, you reason, can’t be lied to. He knows better than words half meant, half made up and it’s annoying, really, but he just does somehow. If you dare to lie, he would know and then it would be even more annoying.
“Yeah, you’re living in my head rent free but at least I’m not trying to hide it.” No answer. You peek at the game, you’ve been slain by a spider. “Karl said that,” you resign yourself. “He said he was about to join the vc by the way.”
Before the conversation can carry on, the sound of Karl joining the call resonates. Being in this Discord server is like living in a house with 10 siblings, that’s what you understand from the way Sap exhales heavily.
“Oh, I am interrupting something?” Karl says, struck by a peculiar energy.
“Besties time Karl, besties time,” Sapnap mumbles beneath his breath and it chimes a little like disappointment.
“Well, too bad I guess,” Karl exclaims. “It's about time I meet miss Bunnyshow.”
Karl is like that gif of a cat sitting in a tiny box with the caption “if it fits, I sit”.
“Does that mean our passive aggressive subweet arc is over?” You ask, faking the dejection when your smile grows wide.
“Oh god, I hope not. That’s my favorite part of the day.”
"It means a lot to me. Especially coming from my comfort streamer Karl Jacobs," you confess.
Satisfied, your attention gets back on the game; flowers rooting gracefully into the dirt and hives ready to host the beloved honey bugs as Karl and Sap catch up on time being apart. Everything is quiet and peaceful like the end of an afternoon well spent.
“I like your garden,” Karl points out and you hum a thank you beneath your breath.
“So you can take Karl’s compliments but not mine.”
“We’re besties you’re honor. Sapnap you can leave now, thank you,” Karl giggles and you follow along.
“Sorry Karl, there’s only room for one man in my heart and that has to be Sapnap.”
He fakes a cry to keep the theatrics before adding without transitions, “You know if you asked Dream he’d probably let you on the SMP.”
“No thanks,” you grin.
“Sapnap, your girl doesn’t want to play with us.”
“She’s already been whitelisted for months now,” Sapnap informs but fails to comment on the first part of the complaint.
He’s not lying, but you feel like it says more about Dream’s stubbornness than it says about you. As for your best friend, he understands better than anyone that wish for privacy and it’s something made of respect like yours for his career. You’d rather see him shaped by all the light than being touched by a glimpse of it. He does, after all, deserves it all. So, that’s the contract you made with yourself because it made sense; being a supportive shadow. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that you’ve never considered streaming before. It’s that it’s his world more than yours.
Karl, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to think the same way, “This is unacceptable, I gotta send a few texts.”
“Lost cause, dude, lost cause,” you grin but stubbornness seems to be a pre required trait for those mcyts.
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Before you have time to find a suitable comment about the newborn group chat, a new person joins the call and Sapnap's annoyance is even more palpable, "No fucking way dude. We can't even have a second of peace on this server."
"Why would you be in a discord call if you want peace. You're just dumb," Quackity retorts with an energy he and he only can ever own.
Then George joins and Dream follows on his heels and soon your ears are filled with conversations that are as loud as scattered. Your shoulders sink in the back of your chair as soft fingers try to brush the upcoming migraine away. This is why you can't join the SMP; -not really but still- too much energy that has to be processed at all time. And you should know better, being friend with a very chaotic boy for the last 15 years, but you're not somehow.
"No, fuck that," Sapnap mutters. "I'm out."
"You can't leave now we have things to discuss," George exclaims. "Bunny, explain to me how Sapnap's proposition is more appealing than mine."
"Because I know her more than you do," he defends, and he's right. Money isn't of you interest. Love, on the other hand...
"Because she's like scronch'love," Karl giggles mindlessly.
"The fuck does scronch'love mean?" You ask, amused.
"It's very simple," Quackity intervenes. "If I offered you the same thing, would you even consider it?"
"Of course I would. What kind of question is that?"
"Fine. So, if Sapnap keeps his offer, here is mine; you become the president of Las Nevadas in addition to what he said."
"What?" Sapnap takes offense.
The call brims with an agitated confusion as you smile deviously, heels rooted into the floor to make your chair spin lightly and your fingers drum on your desk.
"I don't think you wanna do that," George corrects.
"Yeah, you absolutely don't," you confirm.
"Fine," he retorts. "So Sapnap's offer plus a Las Nevadas citizenship. How does that sound?"
"Like an offer I'll confider," you sigh. "So who's scronch'love now?"
"Still you," Dream answers. "Except you're also a big dummy."
.・゜゜・  ・゜゜・   .・゜゜・  ・゜゜・
A/N : helloooo,, how are you??? this part very self indulgent and I think this fic will be in general but I hope you liked it anyway. I love the idea of c!quackity always being too much and always having something to add to be even more over the top. I'm having more trouble than I thought about Bunny's and Sap's friendship because I want them to have a very special friendship but I hope it appears as such. idk. lmk what you think and thank you for reading it it makes me very happy <3 Until next time (ɔˆ ³(ˆ⌣ˆc)
Taglist : @open-minded-chip-101 ; @itsoakaa ; @gaysludge ; @tinyegg ; @qnfdnf​ ; @paintingpetalsforyou ; @notjennaleigh ; @victoria-a567 ; @washy-washy ; @moneybagmarvel ;
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poguestvff · 3 years
Text
CALL ME BACK P. 2 — JJ MAYBANK
in which, JJ and Y/n finally reconcile whilst sat on the bathroom floor
taglist | masterlist | 1.8k words
warning(s): very small descriptions of wounds, angst if you squint, fluff, for the most part, and nothing else i dont think. she/her pronouns part one !!!
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The ringing of the phone beside her hadn't made y/n budge instantly. She wasn't expecting a call, her parents knew where she was and who she was with, her friends knew where she was and who she was with. she didn't exactly think there was a reason for a phone call so she let it ring. When a soft ding followed it, the boy beside her let out a sigh.
She raised from the bed, sitting up as she stretched her arms above her head. Y/n picked up her phone from the small table as she noticed the photo she had tried posting finally went through, the tagging of Topper's account making his phone go off as well. She swiped down to the notification center, finding a voicemail from JJ. Her heart seemed to sink within her chest momentarily. She hadn't seen that name in a couple of days, hadn't come in contact with him in a couple of weeks.
It wasn't something she wanted, it was something she needed. Something they needed; Space from one another. She should've seen it coming, hurdling at her at a rapid pace since the time they'd began dating, but she ignored just about every sign until it was right in front of her. She never blamed him, she never would blame him. Y/n understood he had a troubled time showing affection, he was her best friend after all, she knew him in and out, there was no reason to not hold a candle to his name.
Seeing his name made a mountain of things run through her head. Questions upon questions on whether she should listen but a gut feeling made her decision final as she lifted the device to her ear. "Uh, hey. Hey, Y/n/n." She could hear the shakiness, the sound of hesitance that wavered within his voice. "I don't know why I called... Yes, I do. I just really need someone right now and—and everyone's gone. I didn't know who to call except you. Just... just if you get a minute call me back." Then the line went silent.
She looked over to Topper, the boy sleeping sound beside her on his stomach previously though now he lay, staring right back at her. "Was that maybank?" He asked in a groggy tone, a yawn following as he rubbed at his eyes. She hummed, pushing her legs over the side of the bed. "Why did he call?"
"I uh... he didn't say." she said in a low, confused tone, holding the phone in her lap. She couldve called him back, she probably should've. But she didn't know how she'd react if she heard his voice and have to listened to his pained tone again. She typed out several different messages, all in preparation to send but she couldn't decide on which one immediately.
"It's too early, just go back to sleep." Topper said, pulling lightly at the back of her shirt. She looked over her shoulder to him, seeing a tired smile on his face that she didn't reciprocate. "What?"
"I really have to go, Top." She told him as he let out a sigh, turning over on to his back to stare at the ceiling. "He needs me—"
"Just like how Pope needed you to come to dinner the other day or like how Kiara needed your help to chose an outfit."
She clicked her teeth, shaking her head as she stood, setting the phone on the bed. "Don't be an ass." She muttered, grabbing her hoodie from the floor as she threw it over her head. "This is different."
"Tell me how it's different."
"It's JJ! That's how it's different." She exclaimed, hands tossing up before settling at her hips. "If he needs someone and I'm the person he calls, it's not for a dinner date and it's not fashion advice. it's because he genuinely needs someone."
She wasn't quite sure why Topper was so upset over this. they weren't dating, they were just close friends. Friends who spent the night together, watching comedy movies until they cried of laughter. Nothing more, she didn't doubt that for a second. Especially when she knew even when she did these things with JJ, there was always the happy, bubbly feeling within her that didn't feel the same with Topper.
And so the boy rolled his head over to her, fingers thumping against his chest. She couldn't tell what was going on in his head. He hadn't looked angry and there wasn't a frown on his face. It almost looked like he was expecting this, expecting her to defend JJ, tooth and nail. "Then go, y/n."
He looked like he had more to say, like he was biting his tongue, but if he had, he kept those thoughts to himself. "I will." She said, grabbing her phone and her keys, placing them in her back pocket to leave the thornton house.
She sat in the drivers side, pulling her phone from her pocket as the second she'd opened it, JJ's contact was still there. She still hadn't decided on what to send and so she finalized her messaging that she was on the way, sending that she was on her way and a heart. Which, ironically, was the same heart, once again, that they had sent weeks ago before for the last time in their last and final text conversation.
Driving the direct route that she'd known to the chateau had made her stomach feel unnerved. She’d recognized every turn, every stop sign, and the dirt road leading up to the plot. Finding that the front door was not properly closed, clearly slammed as she remembered that the screen was missing a screw causing it to need to be closed slow. The creaky door made someone in the house move as Y/n entered. "JJ?" She asked, making her way further into the home. "Jay, it's just me."
Another noise came from the bathroom as she moved around the corner, seeing JJ sat on the floor. The back of his head was against the wall and his eyes were closed though soft tear streaks shined across his cheeks from the way the light hit them. He opened his eyes finally, only side eyeing Y/n as she stood at the doorway. "i'm sorry."
"Don’t even think about apologizing." She said, pushing his feet back lightly to open the bottom cabinet, finding the medicinal items she needed. She sat in front of him, her knees digging into the hard wood floor below them. She could feel his eyes on her every move while she poured the alcohol onto a small hand towel. "This is gonna sting."
"I know." He replied, a sad smile coming on her face as she began to clean up the small cuts on his cheeks and the split lip. Her opposite hand held his chin lightly, dragging the towel lightly over his skin. She avoided all eye contact, he knew that for a fact as his eyes darted around her face.
She sat back on her ankles as she pointed at his shirt. He nodded, arms raising though wincing in the process as she rushed to his aid, helping him pull the dirty tee from over his head. The bruises that had become more prominent in the time of him waiting on the floor had caused for a heavy feeling to settle in her chest but she didn't say a thing, continuing to work in silence to help ease his pain just enough, leaving at one point to grab a cold beer from the fridge to place against his abdomen since there wasn't a single thing in the freezer other than the quarter filled ice tray.
"So...you and Topper." He said as she tilted his head to the side to clean the blood from the side of his jaw. She gave him a rather chagrined glare. "Sorry, just looking out."
"You don't have to look out anymore." She mumbled as he frowned. "And no... Topper and i— never." she cut herself off.
He went silent for a second, feeling the way her short nails scratched at the side of his cheek lightly. "You’re wrong." he said, suddenly, in Y/n's opinion as she gave him a confused look. "i always have to look out for you. like... like how you're doing right now."
"That’s different." She said for the second time that day.
"You wanna tell me how?"
She sighed, placing her hands in her lap as she sat back. "It just is, JJ. I’m sitting here cleaning your stupid... wounds like old times. This is nothing new."
"And because you and topper's friendship is new, it's different?" he asked. She placed her hands over her face, letting out a low groan against them. "It it's different because we're exes? Because you and Topper dating shouldn't be any of my concern now? News flash, you and Topper even remotely being friends was one of my concerns when we were friends."
She moved her hands from her face, staring at him. "No. what? No, what are you talking about? I didn't even come here to argue about topper, I don't get why it's even a topic right now." she said, her voice faltering near the end before she began leaning forward again to place a bandaid over his cheek.
"Because you know..." he trailed as she didn't even bother stopping. "You’re not... his."
"So what? I’m yours, is that what you're insinuating?" she asked, collecting the trash into her hand.
He didn't answer immediately, fiddling with his fingers in his lap instead. "Yeah." He mumbled. it was clear to him that she had not expected that answer. She stopped, pulling back again, so they could look directly at one another. "I didnt just call you because I could, I called you cause I needed you. I couldve called anyone but I called you because you know me best and i know you best. I know you well enough that you'd drop whatever you were doing for me. That's selfish, yes, but I needed you. Not want, need. A want would be that i want you back."
He was right because that's exactly what she did. And she knew him well enough to see the way he suck his shoulders just slightly in fear of what she'd say next. What she did next. Y/n's hands moved to rest on both of his cheeks, leaning forward to press a light kiss to his forehead before hugging him to her chest. "It didn't work out the first time." She told him in a lower tone.
"That was a trial run, i know what not to do." It was a joke, she knew. He had terrible timing. She heard the emphasis on the ‘I’, implying that he was the only one who made mistakes with the relationship. She let out a very minimal laugh at this, shaking her head at his antics.
She pulled back, running her thumb over the bandaid on his cheek. "We know what not to do." She correct him, placing a gentle kiss to his lips that he returned.
And within that moment, They both knew they were neither a want or need for one another. They were both.
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uwuwriting · 3 years
Text
Zoom meetings with the kids w/ Kuroo, Akaashi and Sakusa
Request: I have been stuck inside the house with my three year old brother for the last three weeks and he keeps coming inside my room and entering the zoom call with me. So that had me thinking. How would our favorite Haikyuu dads Kuroo, Akaashi, maybe Kenma or Sakusa react to their toddlers coming into their room and joining their meeting. - anonymous. 
Awww I love haikyuu dads!!!! I have begun making the smau and I’m already like 3 chapters in but I won’t start posting until I’ve finished it or I’m about to finish it. I wanna be sure that I’ll have a trustworthy upload schedule lmao bc my midterms are coming up next week and I’m dying. Love ya. 💖💖💖
masterlist
rules
warning: fluff
Kuroo Tetsuro
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-He was in a meeting with the firm for the past three hours. 
-He was absolutely exhausted and the only thing he wanted was to take a nap with his two year old daughter. 
-You were still at the hospital, your shift finishing in about two hours so he was basically alone.
-Your daughter was playing with her toys in his office, being as quiet as she could but exhaustion started to win her over little by little. 
-Yawn after yawn left her lips but since the sound was so small and barely above a whisper, Kuroo hadn’t realized that his little princess was tired. 
-Standing up with wobbly legs she grabbed her cat blankie and rubbed her eyes as she slowly made her way to her father. 
-With one arm hugging her blankie and the other wrapping around Kuroo’s leg, she rested her head on his leg and slowly sank down to the floor, not tugging at his pyjama leg as he expected. 
-Looking down at her he didn’t think twice before bending over and bringing her into his lap. 
-She let out a small sigh before she clutched his shirt in her small fists and was off to dreamland in record time. 
- “Kuroo-san what do you think?” 
- “Sorry my daughter distracted me.”
-And with that he went back to his meeting. 
-Throughout the rest of the meeting Kuroo rested a hand on her back, cupping her little head lightly rubbing soothing circles on her skull, staring down at her every now and then a smile adorning his features every time he saw her nuzzling into his chest.
-She was a female version of him now that he thinks of it.
-She had his crazy raven hair and stunning amber eyes while her face structure reminded him of both you and him. 
-Her personality though was all you. 
-He knew she was very young but she reminded him of you when you two first met more and more each day.
-Right at that moment she let out a small yawn again, her eyes opening slightly as she repositioned herself on his lap and went back to sleep. 
-He couldn’t love her more, at least that’s what he believed. 
-Each day she proved him wrong. 
-Saying goodbye to his coworkers he shut off his computer and went to the living room couch, laying down with his little girl in his arms. 
-Giving her one last kiss he fell asleep, a smile still present on his features. 
Akaashi Keiji 
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- “The author said that those new chapters need to be edited by the end of the month. He will send you the rest when you are done with these.” 
-His eyes were bloodshot from the endless hours he had been staring at his screen. 
-Rubbing his eyes he answered every single question that was thrown at him, wishing that this one would be the last one. 
-But the universe wouldn’t have it that way for poor Akaashi making him stay up late again. 
-Thunder rumbled from outside and he wondered whether or not you had taken your son to bed with you. 
-The four year old boy was terrified of storms from a young age, always looking for comfort in either you or Akaashi. 
-But ever since his sister was born he pulled away from you two, he didn’t ask for help anymore even when he needed it and he didn’t wake you up during the night when he had a nightmare.
-Akaashi was amazed to say the least. 
-Neither of you had said anything to him about how your attention would mostly be on the baby and you guys had never dismissed his needs because of your little girl. 
-It worried him how fast his son closed in on himself. 
-He was already a shy and quiet kid but now you barely heard his voice and it broke both of your hearts. 
-Akaashi was determined to help him get out of this phase and be by his side but this assignment took up more of his time than he would’ve liked. 
-Light danced across the room as the door slightly opened but no one stepped in. 
-Keiji was about to stand up when he heard little sniffles and the light pitter patter of feet on the carpet of his office. 
-And soon enough his son rounded the corner of his desk, one arm wiping away tears as the other clutched the stuffed owl his uncle Bokuto had bought him. 
-Without losing a beat Keiji pushed his chair back and brought him in his lap, giving a small apology to his boss before momentarily turning off both camera and mic. 
- “I’m sowwy.” 
- “Shh I’m here, nothing’s gonna hurt you.” 
-Giving him a kiss on each cheek Akaashi let him snuggle in his chest, a strong arm supporting the toddler while simultaneously making him feel safe and protected. 
- “Sir, I’m sorry to interrupt but could we end it here? My son had a nightmare and I want to calm him down.” 
- “Of course Akaashi-san, give my regards to the little man. Goodnight.” 
-And with that the meeting was over and Akaashi was left with a crying child in his arms. 
- “Hey hey, I told you that nothing’s going to hurt you while I’m here. Why don’t we go sleep with mommy hm?” 
- “I’m sowwy…”
-Akaashi kissed his head again bringing him into a tight hug as he got up from his seat. 
- “There is nothing to be sorry for now come on, mommy would want cuddles.” 
 Sakusa Kiyoomi
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- “If we use the new quick that Atsumu and Hinata have been practicing then we would have the upper hand momentarily.”
-Kiyoomi let out a sigh as the meeting he had with the team would not seem to end. 
-They had been discussing tactics for the last hour and a half while the rest of the time they had been informed of the new managers they had been assigned. 
-Kiyoomi never expected to be in a zoom call while being an athlete.
-He thought that it would be useless. 
-What were they even gonna do while in the meeting? Practice? 
-But he was proven wrong once the coach called the first meeting and now Sakusa was ready to pull his hair out. 
-Thankfully he was just laying in bed so at least he was comfortable. 
-You had gone out for some much needed grocery shopping leaving Kiyoomi with his son, not wanting to take your child outside with the virus contaminating people left and right. 
-Sakusa loved spending time with his son. 
-He was a low maintenance child, just like he was when he was young, adopting the same hygiene patterns as his father even at the early age of two. 
-He had just started talking and you wouldn't stop having conversations with him, the baby only uttering a simply “dada” or “momma” or even maybe a “yes” or “no” if you were lucky. 
-It made you happy though, seeing your son slowly becoming more independent. 
-Sakusa was also happy but he was also reminded that he wouldn’t stay this young forever; before he knew it his son would be off to high school or college and he wouldn’t fit in his arms anymore. 
-Lost in thought Kiyoomi hadn’t seen the toddler make his way into the room until he felt the covers being pulled as he attempted to get on the bed *and failed bc he’s just too short*
-Letting out a chuckle Sakusa pushed his laptop to the side and leaned down to grab his son, who was now pouting an expression that was a little too similar to yours. 
- “Is that mini Sakusa I see?” 
-Kiyoomi ignored Atsumu as he settled his son on his lap letting the baby wave at the camera as his “uncles” waved back. 
- “Do you mind if he joins?” 
- “Of course not, every Sakusa is welcome.”
-Giving his son one last kiss on his head, Kiyoomi went back to listening to the boring tactics letting his son play with his fingers in the process. 
-Okay maybe it wasn’t that bad now 
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spacexcowgirl · 3 years
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Don’t Go Wasting Your Emotion - F.W.
Fred Weasley x Reader
Summary: Y/N enters a fwb relationship with Fred, only to realize she’s going to have a lot more trouble keeping things platonic than she thought.
Word Count: 5.3k
Warnings: 18+ NSFW. MINORS DNI. Smut, Oral (male receiving), masturbation, light hair pulling, exhibitionism (sort of? I mean they do it in a public bathroom so yeah), unprotected sex, possessive talk, swearing, brief alcohol mention. pretty angsty throughout but it ends fluffy so.
A/N: I’m obsessed with the fwb trope and wanted to see if I could write a smut, so here we are. Any feedback is greatly appreciated, and let me know if I missed any warnings! Pictures are from Pinterest. (Also, I know this is a repost. Let’s see if the tags actually wanna work this time :) )
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You watched as Fred’s grip on his glass tightened, his jaw clenching ever so slightly as his eyes remained trained on the dance floor. You couldn’t allow yourself to follow his gaze, because you knew what you would see, and you knew it would break your heart. Angelina was there, and she was dancing closely to some guy that wasn’t Fred. Judging by his change in demeanor, he wasn’t as over their breakup as he had claimed.
You hated seeing him like this, for reasons beyond the fact that you were his best friend. It was selfish, sure, but part of the reason why you were so bothered was because you knew he would never be so jealous over you. And that stung.
It had been three months since him and Angelina had split. In those three months, Fred had vehemently claimed that he was fine, that their breakup was mutual, and that he hardly even thought about her anymore. Now, judging by the way he hadn’t uttered more than two words since she waltzed in, you and George could confirm what you already knew; he was lying. When it came to their emotions, its what the Weasley boys did best. Conceal as long as possible, before ultimately blowing up. Evidently, that blow up was about to come tonight.
“Maybe we should just go?” You placed a delicate hand on Fred’s shoulder. The action tore his gaze from Angelina for just a moment, then his eyes were back on her.
“No, no. I’m fine.” He lied through gritted teeth. “We came out tonight to have fun, so, let’s have fun.”
With that, he downed the rest of the drink in his glass and took your hand, guiding you out on the dance floor. You glanced back, just momentarily, and caught George’s worried gaze. Fred most certainly was not fine, but you could also tell that George’s worry extended to you. He knew you were one longing glance away from falling point-of-no-return in love with his brother, and that scared him. Almost as much as it scared you.
Once you and Fred had infiltrated the crowd of people, his hands were on your hips, but he couldn’t meet your eyes. So, to save yourself just a little bit of heartache, you turned in his grasp so your bum was pressed to his front. In this position, you didn’t have to face him blatantly staring at another girl. You closed your eyes and moved your hips to the music, letting yourself just for a moment get lost in the feeling of his big hands guiding your hips. For a little while, you could shut out reality and simply pretend it was just the two of you, and that he wasn’t desperately wishing you were someone else.
The feeling of his warm breath against your neck shook you back to the present, causing you to instinctively crane your neck to give him further access. His lips ghosted a line there, sending goosebumps alive in their path. They traced their way up to your ear, giving a gentle nip to your lobe before he spoke.
“It’s working, she keeps looking over here.” He whispered in a low voice. 
You simply hummed in response, continuing the grinding of your bum against his hips. Truthfully, you didn’t care whether she was looking or not, but of course you couldn’t say that. So, silence sufficed.
This is what your relationship had morphed into in the months since his breakup. What had started as a completely innocent, and drunken, conversation between friends about how it should be criminal how long you had gone without getting laid, had somehow turned into this murky friends with benefits relationship you were now in. Neither of you tried to hide the fact that you would occasionally sleep together from George or other peers, which was why your current grinding appeared normal to him, but you both always made it clear you were still just friends.
So, when Fred had a long day at work, there you were, your mouth showing him in more ways than one how to relax. When George and him got into a fight, although it was rare, you were there as a thing for him to ruin, to take all of his frustrations out on. Basically just about any mood he could possibly be in, you were there to make it even better.
That’s not to say you got nothing out of the arrangement, though. Fred was there for you, too. After those awful long days that seemed never ending, when you were too in your head over an upcoming work project, when you just needed to relax a little. Fred Weasley could make you cum so hard you’d forget anything wrong in your life, including the extremely unfortunate feelings you harbored for him. Even if it was just momentarily.
Not to mention, if having Fred in your bed was the closest you’d get to truly being with him, then you’d take it. Because as you lay pinned beneath him, your name leaving his lips like a prayer, you could feel like the only girl in his world. And that feeling breathed life into you like nothing else could.
So, now, here you were, pressed up against the man who held the power to break your heart if he so chose, but who also had no idea. It seemed Fred truly thought what you had was just fun between friends. Another reason you couldn’t fault him.
“Oh, fuck.” Fred groaned worriedly into your neck before straightening up. His words and the sudden space he had now put between the two of you caused you to furrow your brows, until he spoke again. “She’s coming over.”
Fred and you had already been somewhat on the outskirts of the dance floor, which meant Angelina and the man she had entered with had to pass you to get to the bar. Of course, they wouldn’t just walk by without saying anything. Angelina had always been a sweetheart, and Fred and her had ended somewhat amicably, so it was no wonder she was now approaching with a bright smile on her face.
“Freddie! Y/N/N!” She quickly enveloped you in a hug, causing her familiar floral perfume to fill your nose. Godric, could she get any more perfect?
“I feel like it’s been ages.” Next she was hugging Fred, and although he was stiff, Angelina was nothing but friendly and carried on as if she didn’t even notice. When she pulled back, she gestured to the man who she had approached with. “This is Stephen. He’s my uh…” She seemed to falter for a moment, her eyes flicking guiltily to Fred before she continued. “My boyfriend.”
You didn’t have to look up at Fred to know his jaw was clenched, now for more reasons than one. Thinking back to when Fred and her were still together, you had heard him complain on more than one occasion about a ‘Stephen’ that she worked with. Even though she had told him that he was no one to worry about, perhaps Fred had a right to be so jealous.
There was a tense moment of silence, all four of you internally gauging the situation and where to take things from there. Angelina was the first to clear her throat and gesture between both you and Fred.
“So, uh, I hadn’t heard that you two were together.” Her eyes fell to yours, a genuine smile gracing her lips. “You know, I always thought you guys would make a cute couple. I mean, even before…” Her words trailed off, careful not to breach the subject of her failed relationship with Fred. 
To save her from an awkward ramble, you decided to speak up. A sheepish look crossed your features as you prepared yourself for the ever-uncomfortable ‘actually, we’re not together, we’re just screwing’ talk.
“Well, we’re not really—”
“Not really sure why we hadn’t gotten together sooner.” Fred cut you off, his arm snaking around your waist although his eyes never left Angelina’s.
Your eyes grew wide at his words, your heart speeding up. Of course, you knew what he was doing. He was Fred Weasley for Godric’s sake, and he’d rather be dead than admit to his happily-moved on ex-girlfriend that he was still alone. Still, the thought of truly being with him crossed your mind, like it did more often than you’d like to admit, and you couldn’t help but feel butterflies.
“Well, I’m glad you’re happy.” You could tell she meant it. With that, she let her hand drop and intertwine with Stephen’s before shooting the two of you one last smile and hauling him towards the bar.
Fred’s grip on your waist had grown even tighter and you found yourself wondering if he even realized it. His breath was ragged and shallow, and when you looked up at his face you found that his eyes were squeezed shut. You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to discern if Fred needed his best friend or his fuck buddy right now. Ultimately, you decided he probably needed a little bit of both.
“Why don’t you stop torturing yourself and we finally get out of here?” You pleaded.
“I’ve got a better idea.”
And before you could ask what, exactly, that meant, he was firmly grasping your wrist and hauling you to the women’s bathroom. It wasn’t a very big room, and half of you wondered if the lock on the door even properly worked, based solely on how old it looked. You didn’t have a lot of time to worry, though, before Fred’s lips were pressed against yours and he was pushing you against the porcelain sink.
You moaned into his mouth at the desperation in his actions, your hands quickly finding the base of his neck and tangling in the hairs there. In an instant, he had you hoisted onto the cool white fixture and was stood between your legs, peppering wet, open mouthed kisses down your jaw. You threw your head back, arching your chest towards him, and let out a moan as he began to suck at the soft skin below your ear.
He had quickly taken things into his own hands, as he often did, but you knew that wasn’t exactly what he needed right now. You pulled your head away, halting the kisses he had been planting to your neck, and placed your hands on his shoulders. His brows were furrowed as he looked at you, but as you gently pushed him back and hopped down from the sink, only to sink to your knees, he couldn’t help but grin in anticipation.
You fiddled with his belt buckle, undoing it as quickly as you could before unbuttoning his pants and pulling down his zipper. You wasted no time teasing him, but rather pulled down his trousers and boxers in one go, suddenly eye level with his hard cock.
Your hand wrapped around his length, beginning to stroke him in the way that had grown so familiar to you. He tilted his head back and let out a groan at your slow pace, which only encouraged you further. The second that his eyes were back on you, you leaned in slightly and kitten licked the tip, maintaining the most innocent look you possibly could. Then, you opened your mouth and swallowed him down, keeping your hand on his base to work on the extra length you can’t fit. You felt Fred gather your hair into a ponytail, gently guiding your motions against him. He hardly had to do any work, you already knew how to please him so well.
“Fuck, yes,” Fred sighed, his eyes glued to the image of his cock disappearing between your lips. Knowing that he’s watching you, you gazed up at him through your lashes and hollowed out your cheeks, your hand twisting up and down as you sucked on his sensitive tip. “Play with yourself, princess. Get yourself ready for me.”
While in any other situation you may have shot a quip at him about being a lazy git, right now you knew that realistically you two simply didn’t have very much time. What you were doing was risky, and it was Fred who needed to relieve some tension, so you’d have to be resigned to doing all of the work. Besides, sucking Fred off while he looked at you like that and moaned so beautifully turned you on to no end, so you supposed you really shouldn’t be complaining.
Your free hand snaked down and dipped beneath the waist band of your leggings, quickly pushing aside your panties and beginning to dip into your wet folds. You let out a moan against Fred’s cock, the vibration causing him to groan lowly.
This only lasted about a minute, before the reality set in that you just were not a very good multitasker. It was nearly impossible for you to keep up with sucking and wanking him off while simultaneously focusing on your own pleasure. So you resigned to pulling your lips off completely and catching your breath, allowing one hand to continue working on your own pleasure while the other twisted up and down his cock, pausing every few moments to swipe your thumb over the sensitive head.
Fred’s hips bucked involuntarily in your grip from the contact. Then he was grasping your wrist and halting your actions, hoisting you up to a standing position by your elbow. He pulled you into one final, passionate kiss, before he was spinning you around and bending you over the sink. He folded himself over your body, intent on whispering into your ear.
“I want you loud,” He grumbled against your neck, placing a rough kiss there. One of his hands was now wrapped around you and kneading at your breast through your top, while the other had rested on your hip. “I want everyone in this whole bloody pub to hear you screaming my name.”
You knew what he really meant was he wanted Angelina to hear you screaming his name, but his hands were now yanking your leggings and panties down to your ankles, so your brain could hardly focus on anything else. You let out a breathy, quiet, moan as you felt him rub the head of his cock against your wet folds. His response was instantaneous as he pulled away from you completely, eyes narrowed.
“What did I say, princess?” His stroked himself lazily, pointedly busying himself with everything but touching you. 
“Please, Fred.” You simply whined. You always were slightly embarrassed by how desperate you were for him.
“I said,” He ignored your pleas, taking a step closer to you once again. “I want you loud. Honestly, if you can’t listen, you can just go back to having that pretty mouth of yours suck my cock, and you can worry about getting yourself off later.”
You let out a whimper at that, eyes meeting his in the mirror. You wouldn’t put it past him to tease you like that, so you knew you had to play your cards right to avoid it. 
“Think you can listen? Think you can be good?”
“Yes,” You breathed out, your hands gripping the side of the sink tightly. “I’ll be good.” 
That was all the confirmation he needed before pushing into you. A strangled moan tore itself from your lips, and you couldn’t help but shiver from the look Fred was giving you in the mirror. Once his hips were flush against your bum, he threw his head back and groaned.
“So fucking tight.” Fred gritted. “Always so tight… For me… All for me, yeah?”
“Yes, Freddie.” You moaned out, your eyes flying shut as he began to set a steady pace. Seeing your eyes close caused him to tangled one of his hands in your hair and give it a gentle tug, pulling your head up and arching your back further. The new angle allowed for him to hit at a deeper spot inside of you, causing you both to moan out.
“Who does this pussy belong to?” He urged, the sound of his ragged pants mixing with the sound of his hips snapping against your bum. “Say my name, princess.”
The question caught you entirely off guard. Obviously, Fred and you always talked to each other quite differently during sex than during your everyday friendship. Still, this was uncharted territory. Because no part of you did belong to him, no matter how much you longed for it to be so. You couldn’t think on the meaning behind it for too long, though, because as he landed another harsh thrust into you, your mind was cleared of everything but your own pleasure.
“You, Freddie.” You moaned loudly. “All yours.”
“That’s right.” Fred slid the hand that had been resting on your hip around to find your clit, rubbing small circles against it in time with his thrusts. The hand that had been tangled in your hair grabbed your arm and pressed your palm flat against the mirror. He slotted his fingers against your, folding himself further over you as his thrusts began to grow sloppy. “Come on, I need you to cum for me, princess. Need you to say my name.” 
His words sent you over the edge, his name leaving your mouth in nearly incoherent babbles. He continued to lightly rub your clit, rocking you through your orgasm with a few light kisses to your neck, before he snapped his hips into yours one last time, burying himself fully before halting. He had finished inside you, leaving you now both panting as you came down from your highs.
Fred placed a soft kiss to your shoulder before dropping the hand he had pinning you to the mirror and slowly pulled himself out. You whined at the empty feeling, causing him to lowly chuckle from behind you.
Now that your brain was slowly beginning to function properly again, you could think of nothing but the way he had so brazenly claimed you as his. Since when had that become a thing? Your heart was fluttering in your chest at the idea of being his, truly, and before you could talk yourself out of it, you decided to speak up.
“Freddie?” 
He looked up at you in the mirror, having just grabbed his wand and begun to perform a cleaning spell on you. His eyes were soft and kind, a stark contrast to the angry, jealous man you had seen earlier in the night, and it only endeared you further.
“Hm?”
“What you said…” You trailed off, suddenly feeling very stupid. But, you had come too far, and it felt too late to back now. “About, um, belonging, to you… uh…”
“Got a little carried away there, didn’t I?” He chuckled sheepishly, ducking his head down as he finished cleaning you up. You bent down slightly and tugged up your panties and leggings before turning to face him, finding him doing up his zipper. “Guess seeing Angie here with that prat made me feel a little possessive. Did it make you uncomfortable?” The genuine concern lacing his voice nearly made you weak.
“No.” You shook your head, a small smile on your face. The kind of smile you give someone when you’re at the very seams of falling apart, but you’re doing everything in your power to keep it together. Of course, as he had been so vocally claiming you, his motive had been her. You could feel the beginning of tears welling up in your eyes, but you knew you couldn’t let them fall in front of Fred, so you quickly turned back around and gripped the sides of the sink.
“Then what’s wrong?” Fred’s hand was now on your shoulder, urging you to turn towards him. But you knew, one look at him and you’d be done for.
Your mind was racing as you tried to think of your best way out of this situation, the way to walk away without pouring your heart out and ruining this friendship. But, then, you kept hearing him tell Angelina that you were a couple, or the way he claimed you moments before, play over and over again in your head. It was the soundtrack to your heartbreak, and you had no way to turn down the volume.
“I really just want to be alone, Fred.” Was all you could muster, your voice shaking and making you cringe.
“Obviously I did something wrong.” Fred drew his hand back, but he made no motion to leave. “So just tell me what I did and we can fix it sooner rather than later.”
“There’s nothing to fix.” You spun back around, so vehemently ready to deny anything being wrong and send him away. But then you were looking into those soft brown eyes and your heart was breaking just a little bit more and you couldn’t help but let the tears fall. “Oh, for fucks sake.” You scolded yourself lightly, beginning to wipe the tears that had fallen.
“Hey, hey,” Fred cooed with open arms, ready to pull you into a hug and help in any way he could. Even if he didn’t completely understand what was going on, he hated to see you hurting.
You held out a stiff arm to keep him away, your other hand still uselessly trying to stop your tears.
A banging at the door and a muffled voice shouting ‘Hurry up in there!’ was the first thing to pull Fred’s attention from you. He had shouted back a quick ‘just a second!’ which you had barely even registered before you were apparating away from the confined space and back to the peaceful emptiness of your flat. There, you could collapse on the floor and cry about just how foolish you’d been to think this was ever a good idea in the first place.
-
Fred had been shocked and mildly upset when he turned around and you were nowhere to be found, but then wrote it off as your way of escaping the bathroom without people having to know what you had been doing in there. When he exited the bathroom and found George, alone, a few minutes later, he was remarkably more confused. Had you really left the pub as a whole? Without saying so much as a goodbye?
Still, Fred resigned to give you your space. He had seen how upset you were, and how reluctant you’d been to wrap up in his arms—which was typically your favorite place to be when you were upset—and decided maybe you really just did need to be alone. If you wanted space, space is what Fred would give you. In reason, of course.
So, when a week had passed with no word from you, Fred was growing remarkably more distraught. The two of you had never willingly gone this long without speaking, and no matter how much Fred tried to reach out, he never got anything in return but silence. Your absence was weighing on him, and he couldn’t help but rack his brain helplessly trying to decipher what exactly he had done wrong.
“Still no reply,” Fred sighed as he thumbed through the last of the mail he and George had been delivered that morning.
“Hm? Oh, Y/N, right.” George had glanced up from his stack of paperwork briefly, before returning his focus on his work. Fred narrowed his eyes at his brother, suddenly very aware of his uninterested response. Fred was a nervous wreck worrying about your disappearances, yet George sat uncharacteristically calm and unbothered.
“You’ve heard from her, haven’t you?” The realization hit Fred all at once, suddenly making him feel sick.
“Well, I mean, yeah.” George set down his quill, finally giving his brother his full attention.
“And you didn’t think to say anything?” Fred nearly screamed, his hands balling into fists at his sides.
“You didn’t ask.” George rolled his eyes. “She’s fine, by the way. Just doesn’t…”
“Just doesn’t want to talk to me, right?” Fred scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “For Merlin’s sake, I don’t even know what I did!”
“Isn’t my place to say.” George shrugged. “Although, what I can say, and what may or may not have any relation to Y/N, is you are the blindest, daftest, git I’ve ever met.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m really going to have to spell it out, aren’t I?” George sighed, beginning to rub his face with his hands. “Alright, if I must. Let’s play a little game, shall we? I ask a question, you give a simple yes or no answer. Nothing else. Got it?”
“Yes, but—”
“Ah, ah, ah,” George wiggled his finger, effectively cutting his brother off. “Alright, now, first question. Have you slept with anyone besides Y/N since you broke up with Angelina?”
“No.” Fred furrowed his brows. “But I don’t get—” This time, he abruptly cut himself off when George shot him a stern look.
“Next question. If you had to guess, has Y/N slept with anyone else since you two started your little… Arrangement?”
“No.”
“Okay, now. Think back to last week, were you actually jealous because Angelina was there with some guy, or was it because she was there specifically with the guy you had been insecure about, and it brought up all those old feelings?”
“I— That’s not a yes or no question!”
“Right, sorry.” George chuckled. “I’ll rephrase; Were you actually just upset and insecure about the specific guy Angelina was with?”
“Yes.” Fred’s voice was softer now.
“Final ones, really hoping this ties it all together for you.” George leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk as he gazed at his brother. “Little jump back to question two; If Y/N did sleep with someone else since you started would that make you jealous?”
The room was quiet as Fred clenched his jaw. He hated that George knew him and his emotions so well, because it was impossible to hide from them when he was around. After a moment, he stared down at his shoes and simply nodded.
“And, would you say, it would make you more jealous than when you thought you were jealous about Angie?”
Comparing the two jealousies felt pointless to Fred, what he felt last week at the pub wouldn’t even be in the same ballpark as what he would feel if he found out you had slept with someone else. You had always been his person, someone who had been there for him even when he was a stupid teenage boy. You were the only one he’d ever venture to say knew him almost as well as George. He had always written off the tinges of jealousy he felt when other guys flirted with you as the general protectiveness of a best friend, but was what George was insinuating the real explanation? Did he actually just have feelings for you?
“Yeah, it would make me more jealous.” Fred sighed frustratedly. “So what, okay? So maybe I’ve started to have feelings for her. You helping me realize that doesn’t exactly help with the fact that she won’t talk to me.”
“Why don’t you stop by her flat and tell her exactly what you just realized, and tell me if it doesn’t help?” With that, George gathered the last of his paperwork and headed up the stairs to their flat without another word.
-
After a week of working every morning and crashing on your couch every night, watching every sad movie you could find, it was safe to say you were out of tears. Truthfully, now you were just exhausted. It still hurt, but you didn’t have the energy to think about it constantly anymore. For that, you were surprisingly thankful.
So when you heard a knock on your door that Saturday night, you weren’t sure what you had been expecting. You vaguely knew in the back of your mind that it could be Hermione checking in and dropping off food, as she had a few times throughout the week, or maybe George coming in hopes of cheering you up. What you hadn’t expected, though, was the frantic face of Fred, yet that’s exactly what you found.
“I’m sorry to just show up like this, I know it’s kind of late, but you left me no choice.” He pleaded softly. The worried look on his face and the bags under his eyes caused a pool of guilt to form in your stomach, so before you could really think about it, you opened the door further and gestured for him to come in.
You both made your way into your living room, each finding a place on opposite ends of your couch. For a few moments, neither of you spoke. Fred nervously ran his hands up and down his thighs, while you wrung your hands repeatedly. Neither of you could seem to look at each other.
“Look I’m—”
“George said—”
Both of you had gone to speak at the same time, causing you to both cut off abruptly. Your eyes found each other for the first time and within seconds a smile was lighting up each of your faces, light laughter bursting from your lips.
“You go ahead.” You offered, the small smile still on your lips despite the pain in your heart. Fred seemed to draw in a deep breath, seeming uncharacteristically nervous. Your stomach flipped at the potential list of things that could come out of his mouth.
“I think I’m starting to fall for you.”
Well, that certainly hadn’t been on your list.
“You… You what?” You questioned, desperate for clarification. Desperate to have him repeat it.
“I said, I think I’m starting to fall for you.” He repeated, the look in his eyes so genuine you nearly trembled. “And I know you don’t want to talk to me right now, and I still don’t know why, but this is my way of saying I can’t lose you. Even if you don’t feel the same way—”
“What about Angelina?” Your voice was soft, unbelieving that this could ever be your reality.
“What about her?” Fred cocked his head to the side. Suddenly, how upset you got the week before all made sense to him, and he realized George was right. He was a daft git. “Y/N…” He trailed off, his heart suddenly hurting from the pain he’d caused you. “I’ve been such an arse, haven’t I? I used you to make her jealous, and what I said… Oh, fuck.”
You stared down at your hands in your lap. You hated reliving that night again, but some part of you was happy that at least now he had caught on.
“Sweetheart, look at me.” He leaned forward and gently rested his hand on your cheek, coaxing you to look at him. “I’m so, so sorry. I don’t care about her like that anymore, I mean it, okay? It just sucked seeing her there with the one guy I had always worried about.”
“Really?”
“Really.” He nodded. “Godric, I’ve probably been falling for you my whole life and just been too blind to see it.” His thumb lightly traced your cheekbone, causing your eyes to flutter close. “And even if you don’t feel the same way, that’s okay. Because I’m still sorry, and I’ll still do any—”
His words were cut off by you nearly throwing yourself towards him, your lips hurriedly find his. Although he seemed shocked at first, he quickly melted into the familiar feeling of your lips on his, and his hand moved down to cup your jaw. Butterflies were fully alive in your stomach, and for the first time you didn’t have the urge to squash them. This felt like a dream you never wanted to wake up from. After a moment, he pulled back and searched your eyes.
“Was that your way of telling me you feel the same way?” He grinned. “Because, for us, kissing your friend is normal. So I don’t know what that means—”
“Yes, you big idiot.” You teased, although you held nothing but love in your eyes. “I feel the same way.”
Now, he really was unsure why you hadn’t gotten together sooner.
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mythiccheroacademia · 4 years
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A/N: Thank you hottie❤️ Tumblr was fucking with the format, so I had to repost.  Anyways, I looovveee this request. I’ve been waiting to be in the right mood to write this. Like, jealous muscular himbos completely head over heels for their s/o? Sign me up.
Sorry for the wait. I hope you enjoy this, sugar plum
All characters are 18+
Warnings: smut below the line!
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Katsuki Bakugo:
SFW
bakugo doesnt get jealous
he usually felt secure in your relationship
yeah he got annoyed when kaminari would jokingly flirt with you
and yes, it made him angry when the dekusquad would literally stare at you with puppy dog eyes
and it pissed him off when kirishima suddenly became the funniest guy in the room when you were around
but he wasn’t jealous
how could he be? he’s bakugo katsuki
you agreed to go out with him. the strongest. the best. you couldn't get any better than him
right?
lmao no
the bigger the ego, the more fragile it was
bakugo doesnt handle jealousy well
there’s a small part of him that knows he can be an asshole
he’s not the most...affectionate person
but damn it, if he doesnt try his hardest for you
you notice that he gets quieter but his actions become a lot more aggressive
he’s glaring at anyone that smiles at you
it’s honestly scarier than his threats
forces you to hold hands
is suddenly into PDA??? when he kissed you in front of your friends you literally made a face
you didn't know what was up with him, but you were really confused when you told him to chill and he visibility wilted
once he came around to telling you that he wouldn't hold it against you if you wanted to leave him, you were quick to reassure him
give him a couple kisses and rub his ego just a tad, and he’ll be back to normal
acts like he didn't just look like he was about to cry two seconds ago
NSFW
there are two things that happen when bakugo gets jealous
at first, he’s very rough and handsy
he likes to talk big and say things like
“imma fuck you up when we get home”
“you like when daddy does that, sweetheart?”
“kiss it right there, baby”
“youre mine. tell me your mine”
he’s doing everything he can to get you screaming and thrashing
he’ll go down on you for hours, leave you trembling, only to tell you that was a warm-up
there’s this dark look in his eyes when he’s pounding into you, gripping the headboard so he can angle himself in the best position possible
it’s like he’s trying to prove himself by wrecking you
in the midst of your fucking, just when you feel like youre about to pass out, bakugo’s head falls on your shoulder
he’s still thrusting into you, but it gets slower and deeper
needier
now it’s not just fucking
looks into your eyes with the most adoring gaze and kisses the breath of out you
he can’t speak, too deep into your lovemaking to express how much he loves you
how he’s so scared of losing you
but you don’t need his words to understand
lock your legs around his hips and tell him how you’ll always be his and he will let out a moan that makes your toes curl
when you reach your high, it’s a vulnerable moment
lots of soft kisses and hugging
wont admit to the tears that sting his eyes but is willing to express his adornment for you through his embrace and aftercare
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Todoroki Shouto:
SFW
todoroki doesnt have a lot of experience with jealousy
he knows what anger is
he’s felt insecurity
and he knows what it feels like to long for something or someone
but envy was a foreign concept to him
that was until he got into his first romantic relationship with you
don't get him wrong, he trusted you with everything
you gave him no reason to question your loyalty
and it never occurred to him that you would leave him for someone else because of how strong your love was for one another
however, his insecurities always got the best of him
he had a lot of baggage
he knew that
and when someone would approach you, someone that looked free-spirited and independent, he’d wonder if he was holding you back
even then, he can’t help but think that no one is worth the ground you walked on
not even himself sometimes
he never brings it up
but you notice that he started touching his scar a lot more
todoroki would try to act more extroverted thinking it would be better if he was livelier
youre deep talks about family matter diminished little by little
he tried to fill your comfortable silence with awkward conversation
you were so confused why your bf was acting so different
it took a couple attempts to get him to spill his thoughts
once he did, he’s stark quiet, looking away, fearing that you’d be so disappointed in him
but you just take his face in your hands and tell him
“you’re my whole world shouto. why would i ever give that up?”
he holds you in his arms for a long time after that
NSFW
behind his jealousy of onlooking eyes is a deep steed of low self-esteem
and you can feel it when you get intimate
he’s always looking to please you, but now he’s desperate, trying so hard to think of what will make you feel good
it makes you sad bc he already knows the answer to those questions
but he overthinks it
he’s noticeably shier
his touches are hesitant as he second-guesses himself
is continuously asking if you’re okay or if he’s doing it right
at one point, you have to take charge and push him down on the bed
“let me show you how much i want you. just you”
licks his lips as you kiss down his body
one of those guys that believes sucking his dick is a chore 💀
“you don't have to do that” face ass
so when you suck the soul out of him, he’s SPRUNG
would write a song about it if he could LMAO
quickly says he loves you before kissing you like the world depends on it as you ride him
twirl your hips in the way he likes and he’ll hiss out curses
run your hands through his hair and kiss his scar and he’ll give you such pretty moans
please tell him how beautiful he is and how much you love him
my mans will nut on the spot
after the first round, he regains his confidence and flips you on your hands and knees
before you even know what’s going on, he’s pounding into you, gripping your hips like a lifeline
now that he’s reminded that he’s your man, he spends the night realigning your spine
bc who could do it better?
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Togata Mirio:
SFW
mirio is one of the most confident people ever
not only is he secure in himself, but he’s secure in your relationship
he knows he bagged a baddie
ofc people would be all over you
he couldn't blame them! i mean, look at you!
when people approached you, he usually let you handle it
if they were persistent, he would just put an arm around your waist
“you’ve got good taste, but they’re taken! sorry!”
it’s so wholesome that the other person can’t even find it within themselves to be upset
there was only one time he recalled getting genuinely jealous
it was during the time you two weren't exclusively dating
just going on dates to see how things went
at the same time, he overheard from your friend that your ex was trying to get back with you
when he heard that, he started sweating
it wasn't jealousy, but more like fear
he was determined not to lose you
not when things were going so well
mirio literally goes above and beyond on your dates
mans deadass learns how to cook all your favorite foods to bring to you
youre crying bc the seasoning was just *chef’s kiss*
brings you flowers at random times of the day
sends you pictures of things that remind him of you
you’re just soaking up all the attention
he’s always been an extra person so you didn't think much of it
it wasn't until you two were cuddling and watching a movie in his apartment that he confesses to you
“i know that i’m competing against history between you and your ex, but i want you to know that my feelings for you are strong, y/n. and i’ll do everything to prove to you that i can be the man of your dreams”
you stare at him before bringing him in for a kiss
“there’s a reason my ex is my ex”
“but--”
“just ask me to be yours already, mirio”
he didnt have to be told twice
NSFW
it was actually that same night that cuddling turned into something a little nastier
honestly, from then on, if you cuddled for more than 20min, there was a 99% chance yall end up fucking lmao
but that night, when he was kissing your neck and grinding his dick against you, he noticed your phone light up on the nightstand
you were too caught up in his fingers between your legs but he saw the text from your ex
it read: “i know this might be out of the blue, but would you wanna catch up over dinner sometime?”
now, mirio wasn't one to be spiteful
but he couldn't help but get a little heated
knowing your ex was trying to get back with you was way different than seeing it
a tiny switch goes off in his head and now he’s ready to make it known that you and him are together
you’re in heaven as mirio’s lips suck and nip at your neck and body
his head game is immaculate
turns you on your stomach so he can massage your back and ass before sliding into you
mirio holds your neck and gives you sloppy kisses as his hips swim into you
your phone lights up again and you can barely think straight when he gets rougher
starts pounding into you like he’s tryna put a baby in you whether it’s possible or not 💀
youre grabbing for anything you can hold as he starts whispering sweet nothings about how he’s gonna take care of you
whew...what a man yall 🥴
the entire time he’s wearing a shit-eating grin
bc he knows he won
might have accidentally sent your ex a voice recording of you moaning his name
oops
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