#oh look another au bc i have no self control

[kerrtesy]

It's finally done!!! This took so much longer than I wanted.

Basically what if Count Bleck and Timpani got a happy ending originally and ended up adopting the twins.

#mario #luigi #super mario bros #smb #yoshi #count bleck #tippi #lady timpani #lord blumiere #yoshis island #super paper mario #my art #oh look another au bc i have no self control #my brain goes to weird places but man are they fun to draw

[weebsinstash]

Alright bestie I’m on that shit again

So yandere Superman, right? Like obviously your fucked. The only other yandere in existence that might just be able to keep you from him is Batman, but even then he’d probably sooner work together just to ensure your safety- but that’s a prompt for another day.

Back to yan Superman, imagine you’re his darling and he is “keeping you safe”. But one day, you get snatched up by some organization that wants to use you as leverage or some shit, but you are just sobbing in relief at maybe being free- only to have Superman show up and do some not so super things to everyone who “stole” you

There are just so many casually horrifying things about Superman that people don't realize until you start like digging into his lore. "Oh he's super strong and a super fast flyer" actually he can do basically anything at those super speeds to the point he can literally even PROCESS THOUGHTS at near light-speed which means he has Absolutely Terrifying reaction times and can make plans and schemes on a dime, which, you know, can be even better utilized by him being intelligent. He has natural invulnerability so if you throw a punch at him too hard you could literally shatter the bones in your hand and he can't even control that, like you could literally hurt yourself with him on accident! He can see across INSANE DISTANCES and his x-ray vision doesn't have like a set range so he could do anything from, peep inside buildings to spy on you, to looking under your clothing for any bruises or injuries or even self harm marks, to peeking behind your hero disguise to learn your true identity, to seeing if there's anything inside your stomach and seeing if you're eating properly. Like jesus christ he literally found out Lois was pregnant from waking up one morning and suddenly hearing the heartbeat of the FETUS, there's literally nothing from him pulling that stereotypical "I know you're nervous or lying or afraid because I can literally hear your heartbeat increase" scary bullshit

And let's talk about Lois for a sec because my god her death was literally what kicked off the Injustice timeline? And there are other forms of Superman media where she just straight up dies naturally of cancer! Sure we could take the easy way and say "in this au Lois never existed or was just Clark's friend and he loved YOU" (which is my preferred default tbh bc, no competition for Reader lol) but I mean if you're going for that angst, that real whump, a yandere Clark Kent that just lost his wife/unborn child to either the Injustice incident or cancer, now overcome with grief? And in those cancer timelines they usually already have a son, Jonathan, and sometimes Jordan, and here's Clark thinking, well, his boy needs a mother, and he's got these weird feelings for you, and lil Jonny clearly has affection for you, maybe bring a bit of a platonic yan himself who sees you as either a big sister or even a secondary mom, so... be his wife maybe?

Like my god if Reader somehow helped him through the grief of losing Lois and managed to avoid "fully activating" Superman's anime villain arc, like he's going full fascist in the Injustice 2 Bad Ending, then some shit DEFINITELY goes down when Reader gets taken away. It just reactivates all his trauma. No! He can't lose anyone else! Jonathan can't lose anyone else! You're not just someone he loves, you're his FRIEND!

You're just huddled in whatever cell you've been kept in with your black eyes and bruises and knuckles bloodied from trying to fight back when you hear Clark's voice and you look up with excitement that just falls immediately off your face because holy shit did he just unlock that thumbprint scanner with a severed arm, and suddenly you're realizing there are other shades of red on his costume and dripping from his fingers

I can only imagine like, ngl I considered a sequel to my fic Doubt where Reader escapes the manor and runs into Supernan as the only other person who can protect you, so here we would have the inverse: you're the only one who knows about Clark's increasing instability and, while you still have your own freedom and autonomy, try to speak to Bruce about it, and now you have Batman Vs Superman: Competing For Your Heart Edition. I can only imagine what sort of unhinged reactions there would be if you think you've got Batman alone and you're beginning to cry all "Bruce I'm really worried about Clark, he isn't acting like himself, there's something wrong with him" and. Clark is like literally using his x-ray vision to read lips through the walls if he can't use his super hearing to outright eavesdrop.

Of course as you suggested, I'm always a slut for ideas with"oh shit I ran to this guy to help me and he's ALSO crazy, now they're teaming up and I'm in some weird shared/poly situation with TWO nutjobs". Lmao you go to Bruce concerned about Kal and Bruce goes to confront him and Clark just drops "did you know Y/N has been hiding self harm cuts under their hero suit also wow they smoke HELLA weed and im worried about their lungs and all the stuff they do when they're alone that no one else knows about 🥺" and suddenly here's Bruce " thanks i hate this actually :)" and there's a scheme concted to spy on you or move you elsewhere.

I've even thought of "Reader oh nooOoooOo, that, giant monster or villain attack or whatever also coincidentally destroyed your shitty little apartment complex? You mean Clark 'accidently' got sent flying into your building or smacked some giant creature into it and now you don't have a place to live? And you're broke too? Oh no 🥺 Well, BATMAN has this nice big house with lots of room in for you to stay toooootally 'temporarily', we PROMISE uwu"

Batman is the one who can put a tracking chip injected into your skin or even disguised as a filling in one of your teeth, and Superman is the one who can zoom off to rescue you/retrieve you "faster than a speeding bullet". I think one of the only people who could bring them down together at that point would be like. Fucking DARKSEID and, Jesus no, you definitely don't want HIM treating you as a pet 😭 the evil Batman that was brainwashed by him in the Apokolips War movie was scary enough (and scary HOT, lmao, let him keep me as some sort of prize and the only luxury Darkseid will allow him as a reward for his obedience. Lord Batman goes from having a meeting talking about like enslaving people to returning to his quarters and railing tf outta you because he's still holding onto some slim vestiges of humanity where he cares about you but also using you as his personal anti stress fuck toy)

#yandere superman #yandere batman #yandere dc #i got a draft whee damian and jon like you and introduce you to their fathers #and suddenly stalking you becomes a family affair #the boys walk you home and jon lies about having to pee so damian can plant bugs while youre distracted #the boys going back to their fathers and telling them all of your personal business #'yeah dad when she was at work i used my xray vision and saw her creepy manager grope her in the walk in' #suddenly your small little privately owned cafe was just bought out by wayne enterprises and your boss is fired or goes missing #maybe Bruce gets you a job st Wayne tech bc hes been following you as batman and he doesnt like you working third ahift #lmao heres hoping i actually finish it wven though im not quite sure where to go w it yet #but like its literally over 8 pages at least so. obviously some sort of creative juices are flowing #yandere stuff #sinprompts #at this point i cant promise shit bc my emotions and motivation are waaaaaacky

[sitp-recs]

liv, do you have any idiots to lovers recs? I’m thinking things in the vein of “keep it down” by warmfoothills; where draco and Harry like each other so much but are just so dumb about it! it also works if only one of them is an idiot (usually Harry, my oblivious king!!) huge bonus if they have a big, combined friend group that everyone in it either 1.knows they’re in love with eachother bc duh or 2.already thinks they are dating/fucking

It took me ages to post this but if you’re still around I got you, anon 🫡 That’s also a favorite trope of mine, I adore that warmfoothills fic. Here are some recs for you, I’ve had so much fun putting this list together. I also did a reclist for roommates AU a while ago. Hope you enjoy!

Still Life (2019, M, 3k)

Take A Stab At It by @sorrybutblog (E, 3k)

It’s a bit pathetic, Harry knows, to have a hard-on for the guy who bullied you in school. Kind of cliché to look back on years of obsession and hatred and think, Oh.

Closer by @pennygalleon (M, 5k)

All who know them are convinced that Harry and Draco are a couple. But that's just ridiculous.

Tread That Fine Line by disapparater (E, 5k)

Harry could cope with being in love with Draco, it was the needing to get fucked by him that was driving Harry insane.

Mise en Place by @corvuscrowned (T, 5.5k)

Draco needs to learn how to cook, and luckily, Harry knows his way around a kitchen. The fact that Draco is using his newfound cooking skills to impress another man... Well, Harry just tries not to think about that too much.

Two of Us by @sorrybutblog (E, 5.5k)

The gang goes to a gay bar. Or: five times Harry accidentally pretended to be Draco’s boyfriend and one time Draco told him to put out or shut up.

Per my last letter (I hope you choke on it) by @fluxweeed and @lastontheboat (T, 10k)

Or: the one where Harry has writer’s block and Malfoy isn’t helping.

Party of Two by fireflavored (E, 13k)

Drinking, sex, and a total misreading of the concept of fuck buddies.

Take the Moon by @tackytigerfic (M, 15k)

Harry Potter has always wanted a family of his own, and when a deadly blood curse forces him into a marriage bond with his best friend Draco Malfoy, it looks like he might just have found one. It's just a shame they’d always planned to break up after a year…

An Act of Kindness for One Harry Potter by a Sympathetic Draco Malfoy by 0idontknow0 (E, 15k)

As Draco leaned on the wall to wait for them to get dressed, he could not help feeling like he had done a very kind thing by disrupting them. Someone should give Potter a better rogering than that sorry sod had. The man had saved the bloody world—okay, mostly Europe—the least someone could do was give him a proper shag.

It's Friday (I'm in Love) by @punk-rock-yuppie (E, 16k)

At first, Draco only hangs out with them on Fridays after work; then he starts shagging Potter after pub nights. Then all the rest of the gang tries to befriend Draco and even worse, Potter tries to date him. It’s an absolute disaster, if you ask Draco. Or, Draco and Harry fall in love over the course of several Fridays and some other days of the week.

solemates by @shiftylinguini (E, 17k)

It starts because Harry has no self-control when it comes to meaningless and entertaining competition. Actually no, that's not quite right. It starts because Harry is absolutely plastered.

Five Weddings and a Potions Accident by lauren3210 (E, 19k)

In which Harry thinks he’s a playboy, everyone else knows better, and Hermione will kill Seamus if Ron tries to collect on that bet.

Nothing But You On My Mind by @moonflower-rose (M, 29k)

Potter has been in Australia on an internship for almost a year, and Draco cannot wait for him to get back home. They'll finally have a chance to talk about their feelings for each other. What could possibly go wrong? Loads, as it turns out.

Around You Moves by ignatiustrout (M, 29k)

Harry knew Draco was gay when he invited him to move in. He’s never had a problem with this. So why does he feel so weird about Draco bringing men home all of a sudden?

(The Piece) I was Missing All Along by lauren3210 (E, 30k)

Draco and Harry have been flatmates and best friends for years, and Draco thinks life is just perfect that way. But when something comes along and threatens to take all that away, Draco has to decide what it is he really wants, and just how hard he's going to work to get it.

A Love Story of Less-Than-Epic Proportions by InnerLilith (E, 39k)

Harry and Draco are just friends. Sure, they work together, and live together, and go to gigs together, and do pretty much everything else together—so what? That’s just what friends do. And Harry has no interest in messing with their friendship. He certainly doesn’t need everyone else constantly meddling, pestering them to just get on with it and get together already. He’s having a hard enough time as it is, trying to come to terms with the fact that he probably isn’t ever going to find love. But who needs love, anyway, when you’ve got a best friend?

Another Heart Whispers Back by @slytherco (E, 53k)

At twenty-five, Harry Potter is still a virgin and sorely lacking in options to change that state anytime soon. To help him find a plus one for Ron and Hermione’s wedding, and maybe kill two birds with one stone, Harry’s friends set him up on a series of blind dates. The only problem is, there’s something not quite right with each of their candidates.

Nights With You by @the-sinking-ship (E, 58k)

Draco is mortified when moments prior to departing for the most anticipated destination wedding of the year, he is cruelly dumped. But when he learns that Harry Potter has, at long last, split with his horrible boyfriend, Draco is certain his luck has changed. Never a man to squander an opportunity for revenge (and what would probably be a spectacular shag), Draco vows to make Potter his for the weekend.

All Must Draw Near by Saras_Girl (M, 61k)

Harry doesn't have time for rumours; he has a shop to run. Which is just as well, really.

The Pure and Simple Truth by lettered (G, 65k)

Harry, Draco, and Hermione go to a pub. Harry, Draco, and Pansy go to a pub. Harry, Draco, Pansy, and Hermione go to a pub. Harry, Draco, Hermione and Ron go to a pub. Harry, Draco, Hermione, Ron, and Pansy―you guessed it―go to a pub. I could go on. In fact, I did. Harry, Draco, Hermione, Pansy, Ron, Blaise, Luna, Goyle, Neville, and Theodore Nott go to a pub. In various combinations.

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #idiots to lovers

[luaspersona]

All Night│knj (m)

pairing ↠ namjoon x reader (f. reader) genre ↠ college!au; brother’s best friend!au; strangers to lovers; smut; one-shot summary ↠ when your brother bails on you, you have to find another way to entertain yourself for the night and Kim Namjoon just so happens to be a great company. rating ↠ +18 warnings ↠ alcohol consumption; flirting; sexual tension; the reader and Namjoon are shameless; explicit smut: consent king!Namjoon, a bit of thigh riding, nipple play, fingering, oral (f. and brief m. receiving), spit kink, dirty talk, pet names, praise kink, marking, light choking, begging, protected sex, multiple orgasms, cumshot, cum eating word count ↠ 12k (yeah, well. what can i say 💀) estimated reading time ↠ 30 minutes notes ↠ ok, so. i know i said i would upload this yesterday, but i got caught up with work and wasn't able to edit it one last time like i intended, and i hope it's ok that i'm dropping it now instead 🥺 note² ↠ also, this took so much longer than it should have, and it’s huge 😭 i’m so sorry y’all, but i swear it’s pure filth, the smut is just ridiculously long bc i don’t have any ounce of self control lmao 🫣 note³ ↠ ok, i'll let you get to it, now 🥰 crossposted ↠ read on ao3

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As the good sister you are, you hate Jimin most of the time.

The sparse moments in which you feel love for your brother are the only downside of going long enough without seeing him, because you start to forget why Jimin studying on the other side of the country is actually crucial for your relationship. Recently, for example, you've been missing him, and that's not something you can just let happen.

So, when your boss sent you to Seoul to attend a handful of meetings during the week, you took the opportunity to meet up with your brother for the first time since he got into college and make new oh-so-sweet memories with Jimin so you can go on with not missing him for another semester or so.

The club he chose is far from the hotel your company paid for, but it's been a minute since you last toured Seoul's alluring night, so you decide to walk. You spot the large mono. neon sign Jimin described around thirty minutes later, and you quickly step out of the chilly night into the club's cozy interior.

You fish for your phone inside your purse, messaging a simple im here to your brother before finding your way to the bar. You hop onto one of the empty stools, smoothing the fabric of your pants and adjusting your cute top that is slightly hiked up from your walking.

You order a beer to start the night, and with its bitterness coating your tongue, you turn around to take in the environment. You have to admit Jimin was right about this place. Although really crowded, it feels comfortable; the dim lightning casting a cozy veil over the bodies pressed together on the dance floor, the playlist good and loud enough to soothe any thoughts that might threaten a good night out.

[10:31] baby j 😗: on my way

Upon reading his response, you can't contain the large smile that betrays your anxiety. It finally hits you how long it has been since you last saw your brother. You don't even know what color his hair is now, how he's enjoying his first semester, if he found another apartment, if he got that job he told you about last month.

Aren't you supposed to know these things? God, you're a terrible older sister.

“Hey! What's up, noona?” A deep voice calls beside you, startling you a bit.

You turn, catching sight of a tall man greeting the bartender before he slides onto the stool next to yours.

After you take a quick look at him, you find yourself blinking back a couple times, simply unable to divert your attention: you've never seen such a fine man in your life.

As he leans over the counter, his broad torso is evident even through his shirt, large shoulders making him seem way too big for that stool. And his thighs?! Those thick — thick — thighs. You could die a happy woman between them, almost drooling when he spreads his legs to make himself comfortable.

“I'll just have the usual!” He orders, prompting a nod in response.

You know you're ogling, but fuck if this man isn't just perfect.

He pushes his hair back, long fingers tangling in his black locks in an failed attempt to clear the strands off his eyes, but in a successful endeavor to make you suck in a breath. Your attention falls to his lips — plump rosy lips that shine once he wets them with the tip of his tongue.

You tilt up, finding his dark almond-shaped eyes — piercing back directly at you.

You tense a little under his scrutiny, but you don't turn away, holding his gaze as you sip your beer.

“You know it's rude to stare, right?” He teases, making you smile immediately. 

Thing is: you are a Park, so flirting was like second nature to you. There's no scenario in which you dismiss this perfect lead he just gave you.

Besides, Jimin tends to be late, right? Yeah, he said he was on his way, sure, but who knows if he won't go to his place to freshen up before coming to meet you or something — what could be so bad about entertaining this beautiful man by your side?

“Oh, I'm sorry. You’re gorgeous, so it’s easy to get distracted.” He snickers, not expecting your response but definitely enjoying it. “But it's ok, I’ll let you stare back so we're even. Here, let me make it easier for you.”

You wiggle your body so you're facing him, closing your eyes playfully.

But he keeps his eyes locked in your face, as he's already regarded you before making his way to the bar. He noticed you when you approached the stool. He noticed the way your pants hug your legs just well enough for him to be able to delineate your figure. He noticed how really fucking cute your top is, loving how it bares the skin of your neck for him to picture how nice it would be to taint the soft flesh. 

You are hot, and Namjoon is a practical man, so he was already trying to read you, maybe wait a bit to see if you came with someone, if your body language was inviting or reclusive.

What eventually pushed him to come over was the way your face lit up when you smiled at your phone and he found himself grinning in response.

So now, even with your eyes shut, and your body closer for him to shamelessly gawk at, it's your smile that he's focused on.

“So?” You open your eyes again.

He cocks his head, regarding you.

“I like your earrings.” He taunts, and you scoff in feigned offense.

“That's your review?”

The bartender shows up again, placing a bottle of soju and a single glass in front of the man, who pours a dose for himself before drinking it.

He looks at you, all pretty and pouty, and grins before he's leaning in.

“I think I’d like to paint you, princess.” When did his voice become so husky? “Is that something you'd be interested in?”

This close, he catches the goosebumps that crawl up your arms, but your reply is unaffected.

“Well, how good of a painter are you, baby?” 

You can feel his hot breath fanning your jaw.

“I'd say I'm really good, but it really depends on you.”

“What about me.”

He shifts back to his prior position, a smirk on his face.

“If you behave.”

“And if I don't?” He drags his tongue over his lip.

“Then that’s even better.”

“Then I'm definitely interested, baby.”

He shoots you a shit-eating grin. God, are those fucking dimples?

“Well, what is your review?”

“Uhm, I like your lips. Almost want to know what they taste like.”

“Almost?”

“Of course! Need to know if you're a good boy first.” You say, matter-of-factly, tilting your head to finish your beer.

His eyes follow your body when you reach for another glass over the counter. “I also think a bottle of soju seems like a lot for one person.”

Damn, you are hot.

“Well, I'm a big guy.” He says, but pours it in your cup nonetheless.

“I can surely see that.” You huff, making him laugh.

“I'm Namjoon, by the way.”

You introduce yourself, taking the hand he extends to you.

The feeling of his large palm enveloping yours take your mind to other places. Places where that same hand is running up your legs, reaching for your zipper and slipping inside your—

“You're here alone?”

Before you can respond, your phone vibrates over at the counter, and you reach for it, checking a new message in your brother's chat.

“Gimme a sec.”

[10:47] baby j 😗: im rly rly sorry, sth came up, wont be able to make it tn

[10:47] you: You alright?

[10:48] baby j 😗: yeah

[10:48] you: Then why cant you come?

[10:49] baby j 😗: …

[10:49] baby j 😗: i met up w this really cute guy from my class and i wanna fuck him

[10:50] you: You bailing on me to fuck???

[10:51] baby j 😗: im so so sorry 🥺

[10:51] you: No you aint 😡

[10:52] baby j 😗: my bad lol

[10:53] baby j 😗: gtg tho, see u tmrw

“You ok?” Namjoon asks, as soon as you finish your glass of soju after sending Jimin a bunch of angry face emojis.

You realize you're frowning, and immediately ease the scowl on your face.

“Yeah. My brother just stood me up.”

“Shit. I'm sorry.”

“It's ok.”

Namjoon is quiet for a second.

“So you're leaving?”

You honestly thought Jimin would take longer to piss you off this time, but when you meet Namjoon's uncertain eyes, you can't really feel too bad about yourself right now. You smile mischievously. 

“Giving up already? Oh baby, I thought you could hold up.” You pout.

“I would never even think of leaving you unsatisfied.” The grin returns to his face, where it belongs. “Besides, who would I share my soju with?”

You pretend to search around the club.

“There are plenty of people here.”

“I'm sure of it, but there’s this beautiful girl who’s talking big to me and looks awfully uncomfortable in her clothes and I happen to be a very good boy who just wants to help her out of them.”

“Didn’t think of you as the romantic type.”

“What can I say, I’m as sweet as they come.”

“Then what do you say I help you finish this bottle before you give me a hand, sweet boy?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Just one thing, though.” He turns to you, attentive. “Sweet isn’t really my thing. I like it rough.” You wink.

“Damn, princess.” He chuckles. “I like you.”

Namjoon prided himself on being a good flirt. He liked to take his sweet time with his partners, teasing and instigating in such a way that any fleeting touch would ignite the skin.

But you? You were humbling him.

Barely two cups into the bottle, he decided to take you to dance. He assumed that having his hands on your thighs, gripping your hips, and his lips brushing gently over your neck would help to shut that witty mouth of yours, but as you keep grinding your ass on his cock he finds himself guiding you closer, spellbound by the way your body frames his.

Namjoon's thoughts are clouded by your hips, the feeling of your skin beneath his fingertips turning him the fuck on, making him feel like a horny teenager.

A thin layer of sweat covers your bodies, the loud music a mere excuse for you two to keep pressing into each other.

Namjoon can hear your shaky breaths as you turn a bit on his hold, lips nearing his ear as you nib lightly at the flesh — which, paired with the way your fingers grab his hair, is enough to prompt a quiet moan out of his plumpy lips, one that you wouldn’t have listen weren’t you so close to him.

He should be ashamed of how fast he’s giving in, but he honestly doesn’t give a fuck. He just wants more. So he lets you do as you please — even if just for now.

Namjoon leisurely rolls his pelvis on your ass, large palms coming up to circle your waist and it’s his turn to listen to the pretty whine you give him. Namjoon closes his eyes, trying to focus.

“Wanna kiss you so bad, babe. Can I kiss you?”

You nod immediately and Namjoon wastes no time in grabbing your hand in his and quickly guiding you out of the dance floor, cutting through the sea of bodies with clear purpose.

You two make your way to a hall near what you assume is the backdoor of the club, poorly illuminated but also a bit more quiet.

Namjoon gently pushes you towards the wall, your back meeting its cold surface. The way he stares at you resembles nothing the sweet eyes you met at the bar — now dark with lust, nothing short of intimidating.

And you would be lying if you said that didn’t spur a heat below your belly.

“Are we allowed to be back here?” A coy smile crosses Namjoon’s face.

“That’s what you're thinking right now?”

“What should I be thinking, sweet boy?”

A huffed laugh passes his lips, and Namjoon steps closer. One of his arms comes to rest near your face.

“In a good ass excuse for the show you pulled back there.” His low register sends a shiver down your spine.

On second thought? Maybe you shouldn’t have teased him that much, but— ah, who are you kidding?

“Thing is, babe, I’m not sorry.”

Namjoon shakes his head, taking a step closer.

With his body so near, you’re suddenly hyper aware of everything. You close your eyes when his breathing ghosts over your skin, feeling goosebumps trail over your arms.

You wait for his next action. You wait for a touch or a reprimand, but it never comes.

Wait.

He didn’t… leave you, did he?

You’re mortified for a second, but as if sensing your distress Namjoon brings his fingertips to graze over your sides. The sudden touch startles you a bit.

When his hands reach your upper arm, you hear him let out a sharp, frustrated breath, prompting you to open your eyes.

“You are fucking beautiful.”

You want to reciprocate his praise, but the words seem lost in your throat. This close you feel drunk on his beauty, dazed by his full, sinful lips and intoxicated by his heat as your bodies orbit each other.

Are you imagining him?

Namjoon’s hand continues to travel up your body, stopping at your jaw.

The pad of his thumb traces your chin, reaching your bottom lip and slowly pulling it off of your anxious bite, soothing the flesh in a tender movement.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks again, tone serious.

You smile.

“At this point, you better.”

And so he does, plumpy lips touching yours with surprising tenderness while his hands rest on your neck. You are taken aback by his softness, not reacting for a second before pulling him closer to bathe in his warmth.

The kiss unwinds all the tension off of you, replacing it with lust. The docility of his actions makes them hypnotic, your mind disoriented with his skin grazing yours — but you’ve never been a patient woman.

You slide your hands through his chest, trailing his defined torso before grabbing his shirt in your fists. You break the kiss and he lifts an eyebrow in question.

“Thought I told you sweet isn’t really my thing, big boy.”

Namjoon chuckles. “So impatient.”

This time Namjoon smashes your lips together, kissing you with hunger.

He presses you further against the wall and you stumble with his eagerness, a satisfied hum leaving your throat.

His hands explore your body, going through your neck, your shoulders, your hips and then your ass, grabbing a handful and giving it a hard squeeze.

He opens your mouth with his, and you tilt your head to deepen the kiss. His breath is ragged when he slips his tongue inside, and you two take barely a second to match each other's rhythm.

You suck the soju's sweetness off his tongue, and he drinks the bitter memory of your beer. Forget the alcohol — he's the one inebriating your thoughts.

You feel every inch of his body, pressed flush against his broad torso as his waist smoothly drags over yours, making it almost impossible for you to keep your whiny sounds down your throat.

You make no effort, on the other hand, to resist the urge to bite his pillowy flesh, nibbing with maybe more force than you should, but grinning in satisfaction when you earn a sweet groan in response.

You entangle your arms around his neck, pulling your bodies closer in a desperate attempt to get more of him, and he seems just as insatiable, slithering his arms behind your back to press your fronts.

Namjoon breaks the kiss, but he gives you no time to complain before you feel his mouth on your neck, sucking and biting between licks over the sweaty skin.

Your hands find purchase on his hair, grabbing his locks with force as arousal gushes out of you.

Namjoon's determined to mark all over your neck. After he sucks a hickey on the spot between your ear and your jaw, you just fucking know he's sporting the smuggest smile at the way his actions shove the prettiest of yelps out of you.

He levels his face with yours, but avoids your lips when you try to resume the kiss. 

“You’re awfully quiet, baby girl” he points out when you frown “have nothing smart to say?”

“How about fuck you?”

“I plan on it, don’t worry.” A cocky grin takes his lips. “And although you look gorgeous trying to be in control, I wanna hear you. I wanna hear how good I’m making you feel, baby.”

He doesn’t really give you an option when he slots his leg between yours, large thigh pressing up your core and pushing an audible whimper out of you. The sound makes Namjoon grab a handful of your ass and use it to grind you along his thigh — his fucking thigh.

You grab the back of his head, pulling him to you as you smother his lips with yours, but this time Namjoon eats all your moans, feasting on the sounds you so obediently grant him.

You’re bathing in each other’s heat and with a particularly delicious roll of your hips, your core brushes on his growing bulge. You suck in a breath, parting with the kiss to learn how to breathe again.

“Look at you” his tone is laced with lust “riding my thigh like a good girl.”

Fuck, you're so damn horny, and you've barely done anything. The fuck is up with you? It scares you how you know you'd promptly fold if Namjoon asked you too, just to have that cock drilling inside you.

So you just hum weakly, apparently forgetting how to fucking speak.

“What was it again? That you called me before?” he asks, returning to slide your clothed core over his strong legs again, loving the way you look getting off on his thigh “Oh, right. What happened with all the filth you were saying before, sweet girl?”

You swallow. This man is fucking challenging you. You have to get your shit together.

“Namjoon—” you moan his name out “I’m… I’m so fucking wet right now.”

“Yeah?” His Adam's apple bobs in his throat.

“Yeah, Namjoon, my panties are fucking soaked.”

“Shit. That’s it, wanna hear you losing it.”

Namjoon wants you so bad. He can feel the warmth of your core rubbing against him, and he can only imagine the growing stain in your panties, the desire of licking you clean the only thing in his mind. He wants to know how you look when you cum, and he just knows it'll be the prettiest fucking thing.

“I can feel how hard you are for me.” Your shaky voice makes him growl.

“Yeah, sweet girl?” That’s his new favorite pet name, the only thing he wants leaving his mouth.

You close your lips on his neck, moaning against his skin when you lick up his throat, a salty taste coating your tongue.

“I haven’t even—” you falter, intensifying your movements to touch his covered cock with each raise of your hips “I haven't even touched you yet, big boy. If I lose control, you sure you can keep it?”

You suck a purple stain on his pulse point, nibbing at it softly and rolling your eyes back over the grunts he pours on your ears.

Your hand slides between your bodies, fingers ghosting over his cock. Namjoon chuckles darkly.

“You're such a tease.”

“And what you gonna do about it, big boy?” You murmur on his skin.

Before Namjoon can answer, though, a high giggle echoes through the corridor.

You both turn, startled by the sound.

A couple stumble its way into the corner, in a messy make out session that delays their realization that they aren't alone. 

“Do you live close?” You ask Namjoon, breathe steadying when the two of you understand the couple doesn’t really mind the audience.

“Yeah.” He says, non-committal.

“Can we maybe go to your place?” You suggest, unsure if he's comfortable with it.

Namjoon turns his attention back to you, and his lips curve up into the most gentle smile you've ever seen.

“If you want to.”

You nod, mirroring his smile.

Namjoon adjusts himself in his pants, trying to be as comfortable as one can be with a painfully hard cock in tight fitting slacks.

You take the cue to soothe your own clothing and Namjoon can't help when his cute smile turns into a full on smirk upon seeing the evidence of his hands on your crumpled outfit.

He takes your hand in his when you both are relatively presentable, and once again leads you through the club, this time aiming for the exit.

Turns out, Namjoon isn't a good boy at all.

The whole ride to his apartment his hand was planted on your thigh, caressing softly without ever breaching your inner thigh or skirting higher — it was as innocent as it possibly could be.

Yet you were squirming and fidgeting the whole trip as his voice, enveloped in the most vulgar desire, whispered the most filthy promises on your ear, shooting arousal all the way down to your now sticking panties.

Promises of making you cum on his tongue, of fucking you senseless with your face on his mattress — of painting you with his cum tonight.

By the time the car finally stopped at his place, you felt your knuckles sore from clutching the fabric of your pants.

Not that he was unaffected. Namjoon could dirty talk you all he wanted, it didn't change the fact that you saw the way his cock twitched and how he was restlessly shifting in his seat whenever you played into his little scenarios.

Although, in hindsight, saying you wanted to be stuffed full of him wasn't the best idea, because the quiet groan he spilled in your ear did nothing to placate your own aching pussy.

The warmth of his palm is familiar at this point as he takes your hand to climb the flights of stairs to his place. Namjoon quietly fishes for his keys and, before opening the door, he looks at you, smiling softly and making you smile too.

When you both are inside his apartment, you wet your lips, anticipating his kiss. But Namjoon misses the action, too preoccupied with taking off his shoes and jacket and politely asking for you to do the same at the entrance.

His long legs stride towards the kitchen, and you almost assume he’s nervous when he fumbles with his cabinets, picking up two glasses.

You frown and, slowly following after him, you hop up on the stool by the counter, across from him. 

“Namjoon.”

“Yeah.” He fills the cups with water, placing them between you two and finally returning your gaze.

“Do you still wanna fuck?”

Namjoon huffs out a laugh. “Yes. I definitely still wanna fuck you.” His eyebrows knit together. “Why? Don’t you?”

“I do. But I kinda expected you to have, you know, thrown me against the wall or something by now.”

“I might still do that. Just wanna talk for a bit, make sure you’re sober and all.” He explains, reaching for his cup, and you mimic his motion, soothing the dryness of your throat. 

“Well” you ponder “I honestly feel a bit tipsy, but I’m conscious.”

“Do you want some time to be sure?”

“Nah, I’m sure.” He nods. “Are you drunk?”

“Not really.” Namjoon presses his lips into a tight line, before saying: “I also wanna know your limits.”

“My limits?”

“Yeah, I wanna know what you don’t like.”

“Oh” you huff out a laugh, dumbfounded “that’s nice. You seriously ask that to everyone you hook up with?”

“I like to.”

“Okay, uhm…” you sip your water. “I’m not really into degradation and, although I said I like it rough, I would appreciate it if you didn’t hit me or anything.” He nods, waiting for you to continue. “I also don’t feel comfortable with ass stuff. Oh, and do you have condoms?”

“Yes.”

“Then I think that’s it. Maybe just don’t try anything freaky before telling me?”

“Sure, no problem.”

“What about you?” He cocks his head to the side, considering you for a second.

“There isn't much I'm not willing to do, honestly, so really? Just don’t want you to lie or fake stuff. I want you to tell me if I’m doing something wrong.”

“I can do that.”

Namjoon rounds the counter, stopping in front of you before helping you stand.

“Up.” He commands, head tilting in the direction of the counter, and you jump to sit on it.

“There’s only one problem.” You say, guiding him between your legs.

“What?”

“I’m soaking wet right now.”

“That can’t be comfortable.” He traces soft circles on your thighs.

“It isn’t. And it’s your fault, big boy.” You pout.

Namjoon sucks his lower lip between his teeth, dark lust cloaking his eyes.

He gets closer, hands coming to your ass and squeezing it.

“But I’ve barely done anything.”

“I’m painfully aware of that.” You whine, seeking more contact.

“Are you normally that impatient, baby?”

“Do you normally take this damn long to fuck someone?”

He chuckles.

“You sure you can take it if I’m rough with you, princess?”

“You sure you can be rough with me, sweet boy? Cause you’ve been all talk and no—”

He smashes his mouth against yours before you could finish.

Namjoon’s lips seem like velvet on yours — despite the pressure, despite the thirst with which he drinks you up. He moves his lips in a way that almost feels like too much, like you won’t be able to take it, but the taste of lust coats your mouth so deeply that you’re intoxicated.

His hands memorize your body, grabbing your neck to tilt your head to the side before you open your mouth to meet his hot tongue, flicking it with yours.

You explore his mouth, happy to swallow all of his breathy groans as Namjoon tightens his grip on your ass, pulling you to drag on his bulge and grunting at the feeling, your body gasoline to his fire.

He can barely concentrate on the kiss, and you’re not much better, the initial eagerness developing into a sloppy make out session — fuck technic, how can one focus when Namjoon’s cock is so deliciously rubbing against you?

He starts to kiss down your jaw, wet lips tracing your sensitive flesh, taking your neck as his canvas.

You couldn't be more thankful for not having any more meetings to attend until being back to Busan, because you definitely don't own enough makeup to hide the purple marks he leaves behind. 

He cups your boob, squeezing it in a way that has you parting your lips in a whimper.

“Fuck princess, you’re so responsive.”

His palm slithers beneath your shirt, caressing the soft flesh of your stomach before he tugs your top off.

“Take this off for me, baby.” He commands, voice low in your ear as he brushes the thin lace of your bra.

And you obey, unclasping it and letting it fall somewhere near your top.

You're not ashamed or timid in the slightest when you lean back on the counter to let him take in as much as he wants from you, a tiny smirk crossing your lips. Your confidence makes Namjoon crazy, but you can't help it. You feel so hot under his gaze, you could let this man do anything to you.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous. Like, honestly, what the fuck.” You giggle.

“Come back here then, sweet boy.”

He kisses down your body, from your neck to your collarbone before he finally reaches your tits.

He closes his mouth around you, swirling his tongue around your nipple as his thumb finds your other breast, flicking over your hard nub and eliciting a loud cry out of your pretty lips. Namjoon seriously feels like he could drown in your sweet sounds.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging a handful and making him groan, vibration reverberating all through your chest.

A string of saliva attaches his lips to your tits as he peppers down kisses between the valley of your chest to regard your other boob, latching onto your nipple and taking his hand to smear the wetness he left behind.

The tip of his tongue licks your nipple, and you buck into his hips.

“Fuck, Namjoon, I… I love your mouth.” You pant.

“Love your tits.”

And he certainly makes you feel so.

Your head falls back when his hand cups your pussy over your pants. The elongated moan you grace him with makes him pull your waistband, quickly undoing your buttons.

You suck in a breath when his hand slips inside your panties, and the groan that leaves his throat is borderline painful as he finally feels you — his fingertips slightly spreading your folds as your slick coats him. 

“Damn, baby, you’re dripping.” He says, breaking the pattern of kisses on your tits to look at your face.

“I fucking told you.”

“Is all this for me?”

“Yeah, ba—” your words turn into a whine when his middle finger presses down your clit.

He chuckles, and you clench around nothing.

Namjoon feels like he's dreaming, seeing your head tilted back, your eyes closed shut as you squirm on his finger.

He pushes one digit inside your aching pussy, and you sob. Your wetness paired with the warmth of your walls pushes a moan out of his mouth, electricity going straight to his dick and coaxing him to push another finger inside — his mind spiraling as he imagines how your pussy will feel like around his cock.

“Good girl, soaking my fingers.”

Namjoon’s attention is locked on your face, gauging your reactions carefully.

“Shit, baby, that's it” you shudder when his fingertips find your g-spot, and he starts to hit it restlessly, your walls sucking him in.

You feel your breath scaping your lungs. Although Namjoon’s hand is somewhat restrained by your pants — which he didn’t mind taking off — the stretch of his fingers inside of you is maddening.

He's slowly working you up, heat coursing through your body and all the way to your scalp, the obscene sounds dripping from you only spurring you on.

You start to struggle to support yourself, feeling weaker by the minute, so you grab his upper arms, in an attempt to steady yourself. When you open your eyes, you’re met with deep, dark lust.

“I want to eat you out.” He says, and you feel like you’re going to pass out.

“Fucking god.”

“Would you like that, baby?”

“Yes, baby, fuck” you moan.

“Tell me you want it.”

Can't he tell by the way your chest is rising and falling at an almost concerning speed?

“I wanna feel that pretty mouth of yours in my pussy, Namjoon.”

He groans before his hand leaves your cunt and helps you down the counter.

You two stumble your way to his bedroom. Namjoon's arms hug you tightly against him as your hands pull his hair in a messy kiss, the only concern in your minds is to remain linked.

Namjoon tosses you carelessly over his mattress, drawing a gasp out of you.

The sight of you on his sheets, bare chest glistening with his saliva, pants poorly undone and shifting as you try to relive the emptiness he left behind makes Namjoon grope himself through his clothes, swallowing strained grunts.

You smirk at his distress, bringing your hands to your boobs and pushing them together to shove that grunt out of his throat. 

“You look so pretty like this, spread out for me.”

“I bet you’ll find me prettier with your cock inside of me.”

“You keep saying these things…” he closes his eyes, sighing heavily at the image you cast in his head. “I think I need to teach you some manners, dirty girl.”

“I’m counting you’ll at least try.” You smirk and Namjoon chuckles.

In a smooth motion, he takes his shirt off, exposing his broad, sculpted chest. Smug takes his face at the way you shamelessly gawk at him, and he kneels at the floor, hands harshly yanking you to the edge of the bed by your pants, before he finally slides them down your legs.

Namjoon straight out moans when he notices the large pool of arousal staining your panties.

“Damn, baby” his voice is barely audible and you squirm, shutting your legs to try and provide some friction. “You want to be fucked this bad?” His hands come up your thighs to part them, gaze transfixed in your core, layered by the thinnest lace of underwear.

“I want to be fucked this bad by— by you, shit.” You stutter as Namjoon lips meet your legs, biting and licking the soft flesh.

He trails kisses along your thighs, closing the distance to your cunt, but instead of touching you where you need him to, his lips simply hover over you. You let out a low curse when he continues his path to your other thigh, licking and sucking roughly.

“Namjoon, please.”

“Please what, princess? Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you.”

“I want your lips.“

“They’re right here.”

“I just told you.” You whine.

“Fucking tell me again if you really want it.”

“Please, eat me out, baby.” Your voice is pathetically high, but you couldn't care less.

“Since you asked so nicely” the look of his dimples between your thighs is the most beautiful obscene thing you've ever been graced with.

Namjoon shoves your panties to the side, and the way he curses your name out has you forgetting how to breathe.

“The prettiest fucking pussy, so fucking wet for me” he groans “I bet I could slip right in.” And you’re sure he’s right, feeling your lust dripping down your ass.

Namjoon seems to like the way you squirm under him, because instead of fulfilling his promises, he blows a cold puff of air over your folds and the way you shudder has his dick twitching. 

“Namjoon, for fuck’s sake.” He chuckles. “I'll fight you, I swear to god.”

He brings his finger to glide up your entrance, effectively shutting you up.

Namjoon teases you, pulling your folds apart before spreading your slick around them, leaving you all nice and sloppy for him. His eyes flick up to the way your chest rises and falls above him, then his gaze returns to your drenched cunt.

How are you supposed to survive the night if he keeps looking at you like that? Like you are sin incorporated? 

He finally brings his face to you, licking a long stripe along your pussy and collecting all your juices on his way up to your clit, where he swirls his tongue before sucking, hard.

You can’t help the loud cry that exits your throat, nor how it elongates when Namjoon hums in pleasure.

“You taste so fucking good.”

One of your hands flies to his hair, twisting and pulling carelessly, while the other gathers his sheets in your fists.

You jolt your hips up to meet his face as he continues to lap at your cunt and when he drags the tip of his hot tongue to part your folds and pushes it inside your walls, Namjoon has to pin you down to prevent you from lifting off the bed.

“So fucking good, baby” you moan, fumbling with his hair.

“Yeah?” His deep voice against your heat makes your head fall back.

Namjoon feel his control dissolving pretty fucking fast as he takes in all that you can give him, arousal gushing out of you for him to feast.

His tongue explores your cunt and he softly takes your clit in between his teeth. You feel a sharp pressure growing in your stomach and you grind on his face seeking more of it.

“Shit! Do that again, please” you yelp, and he promptly nibbles down at your clit.

Namjoon starts to focus on your now swollen nub, while he slides his hand down, and before you can process his intentions, you feel the delicious push of two of his fingers inside of your cunt.

The sound you let out has Namjoon’s mind blanking. You arch your back, squeezing your eyes shut as goosebumps crawl up your arms.

Namjoon lifts your legs to rest them on his shoulders, allowing himself to go deeper into you and he speeds up his movements, his fingers scissoring you open for him. Namjoon eats you up like his life depends on it, sucking the soul out of your body.

Sinful squelching and slurping noises fill his room, and he wants those sounds imprinted to his brain, your pussy loudly dripping for him.

In a sudden movement, he curves his fingers, hitting your sweet spot. Your breath tries to keep up with your racing heart while the knot in your belly threatens to snap.

You let go of his sheets, hand coming up your chest, cupping your boob just slightly before pinching your hard nipples, the sensitivity making you squirm, Namjoon's groan between your legs just spurring you on, the sight of you unraveling above him the most erotic thing he's ever seen — and to know he's the one making you shiver like that makes his cock painfully hard.

You rest your hand beside your head, trying to steady yourself somehow and failing miserably.

Your mind is empty, his tongue washing away any lingering thoughts or worries you’ve ever had, as if you know nothing but the feeling of his lips wrapping around your folds and the maddening drag of his fingers inside of you. 

When your legs start to shake and your walls clench around his digits, Namjoon slightly parts his lips from you, but without pausing his fingers — if anything, he starts to pump them faster.

"You gonna cum?"

You nod.

Your lower lip will definitely be bruised tomorrow.

"Words, baby girl."

"Yes! Yes, I’m close" you cry.

"Look at me." He demands, and you do as he says.

You support yourself on your elbows, meeting his firm gaze on you.

The sight of Namjoon between your thighs, chin glistening as your arousal drips from his mouth, and the fact that he still hasn’t stopped fingering you, make your whole body quiver, your stomach contracting hard, and you have to gather all your self control to not cum just from his looks.

Fuck, you wish you could take a picture.

"Want you to look at me when you come." You clench around his fingers. "Can you do that for me, princess?"

"Yeah" you are like… twenty percent sure you can.

Namjoon grins to himself in triumph. You’re already already this fucked out and he’s barely begun with you.

His mouth returns to your core. Honestly? Namjoon's knees are surely bruised from the hard floor, scraping whenever he moves further against you. But he couldn’t give less of a fuck as his tongue worships you in earnest, your name falling from his lips like prayer while his fingers stretch you so fucking good, pushing you to the edge of your orgasm.

"Jesus, Namjoon, that’s it" you feel silly, struggling to keep your eyes open.

"Cum for me baby. Cum on my face." He commands, register so low you barely hear him.

The feral look he directs you alongside his words make your orgasm hit you in a strong wave, your body lifting from the mattress and shaking vigorously. Namjoon’s hand spreads over your stomach to try and pin you down as he keeps his tongue lapping at you, drinking up all your essence and helping you ride out your high.

He groans at the way your browns shoot up your forehead, mouth silently parting as your head falls back.

You’re so fucking gorgeous when you cum.

You push his head away from you when your legs start to tremble from oversensitivity, searching for air.

Namjoon puts your panties back in place, the soaked clothing sticking to your eaten out pussy and making him hum, satisfied.

"That’s it, baby, you did so well for me."

"Fuck" you whisper, running your fingers through your hair. The shockwaves of your orgasm are still making you shiver when you pant, "what the fuck was that?"

Namjoon chuckles, slowly lifting himself from his bruised knees.

His stare on you falters when he darts his tongue out to collect your cum from around his mouth, eyes fluttering shut.

He climbs up the bed, careful not to crush you as he brings his lips to yours. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and he swallows the quiet whine you make before pulling away.

Namjoon takes his wet fingers and wraps around his mouth, sucking his fingers clean with his eyes closed.

When he looks at you again, something unreadable crosses his gaze before he gulps. "Can I spit in your mouth, pretty girl?"

Your reaction betrays your answer, thighs immediately pressing together as a new wave of arousal shoots through you at his request.

But Namjoon still waits until you say: "Fuck yeah, you can."

His smile is ridiculously innocent for the matter at hand.

"Then open up for me, princess."

And you do, parting your lips and sticking your tongue out as he grabs your jaw, hovering above you.

You close your eyes as a small globe of spit hits your tongue, and you swallow proudly, a content hum ripping from your throat. 

"Good girl, shit, that’s so hot."

He leans in to resume the kiss, making himself more comfortable between your legs. His clothed cock drags against your inner thigh.

Why is he still wearing pants?

"Namjoon" you call, between kisses.

"Uhm."

You take your hands to his torso, tracing freely and loving the way his skin shivers under your fingertips. From his broad shoulders to his firm abdomen, you explore his golden, sweaty skin above you, until you slide one of your hands down. Your palm touches his member, stroking it just slightly as you bathe in the broken moan he graces you with.

"Let me suck you off." You offer, feeling how hard — and thick, mind you — he is under your hand.

"Can you handle more?" His tone is teasing, but his look is genuine. 

You’re silent for a moment. What does he mean by that? Would he just… stop if you said no?

God, why is that so hot?

"Yeah, sweet boy. Wanna take care of you too."

The problem is that there’s no way Namjoon’s gonna last if you suck him off. He can barely control himself now, after tasting you and drawing all those sweet sounds out of you. His dick is already twitching under your half assed strokes, the slight discomfort from his pre cum staining his clothes a clear sign he needs to be inside you. He wants to make you cum again, but around his cock this time.

So he chuckles.

"Can you take it if I fuck you now?" You bite your lip, nodding. "Yeah? Tell me you want my cock, baby girl."

"I want you cock, Joonie." You spill, lips nearing his ear. "I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk tomorrow."

Maybe not your brightest idea, but at this point you don't give a shit. Namjoon is the only thought on your mind and if you came that hard just from his fingers, you can’t wait to see what his dick will feel like.

"Fuck, I love your filthy mouth." He groans. "Sure you don’t need some time?"

"Nah… maybe leave the riding for later, though?" A coy smile crosses your face.

"Sure" he smiles back.

Namjoon kneels back on the bed, wincing a bit when his sore knee touches the crumpled sheets. Ignoring it, he reaches for his wallet in his back pocket, taking a foil packet out of it.

He stands up, tossing the wallet aside before reaching for his belt.

"Let me" you ask, lifting yourself and sitting on your heels.

You take your hands to his thigh, caressing it before going to his belt, which you undo, eyes not daring to look away from his.

You bite your lip when your hands open his zipper, and you reach around him to grasp his pants, pulling them down slowly as he looks at you with nothing but lust, eyes tilting down to your bare chest.

"You honestly have the most amazing thighs."

He frowns in amusement. "Thanks?"

Usually you’re a big fan of reciprocity, and you might have considered taking your sweet fucking time with him, just like he did with you, if Namjoon hadn’t just give you one of the best orgasms of your life and if you didn’t feel arousal pooling again on your already soaked panties. So, instead, you just pull down his pants along with his briefs, his cock springing free.

Namjoon hisses at the feeling of the fabric dragging against his shaft, and you have to suck in a breath when you look at his thick member. It must be painful how hard he is at this point, dick angry and throbbing.

"Big boy indeed." You blurt out, making Namjoon laugh as he kicks his pants down his legs.

"Losing your confidence, princess?" Honestly? Namjoon has no business having such a pretty cock and being this hot. You feel like he should be illegal.

You curl your palm around his dick and give it a tentative pump. A long moan falls from his lips from finally receiving some attention.

"Namjoon?"

"Yeah."

"Can I at least taste you?" Are you fucking pleading?

He gulps.

"Please?" You pout.

He bites his lip — how could he ever say no to you looking up at him like that, the cutest pout on your lips, while you beg him to let you give him head? He'd give you anything.

"Shit, yes, you can."

You smile.

That's it. Namjoon's sure he's imagining you. Is he dreaming?

You inch closer, giving his tip an experimental lick and tasting his salty pre cum, riveting at the sweet sounds he lays out for you.

You spit on his shaft before you lick your way down him, smearing your spit all over his length, before giving his crown a light suck, prompting Namjoon to buck his hips into your mouth, and you welcome him.

You moan, feeling his weight on your tongue. He twitches between your lips when you hollow your cheeks.

You start to take him further, his tip grazing the back of your mouth while you pump what you can’t fit inside.

"Fuck, princess, you look so pretty sucking my cock." He groans, head tilting back for a second and squeezing his eyes shut.

When you start to bob your head faster, though, Namjoon gathers all his self control and pushes you away, and you release him with a small pop.

You pout, and his jaw tenses "why would you stop me then?"

"I wanna fuck you." He pumps his dick a few times, hand slipping easier with your saliva now coating him. "All I’ve been thinking about."

Namjoon rips the foil packet open with his teeth, securing the condom around himself.

You make a move to lay back on his mattress, but Namjoon shakes his head.

"Nah, baby, that’s not how I want you."

He slithers his arm around your torso, harshly turning you over. He yanks you by your waist, pulling your ass up to him. His hand runs down your spine, pressing your face on his sheets.

Namjoon positions himself behind you. His palm comes up to caress your ass before giving it a hard squeeze.

Namjoon parts your cheeks, and he brings his fingers to your folds, spreading them apart to stare at your pussy. He grunts upon noticing your cunt is already a mess for him again even if he’s just licked you clean.

"You got wet again from sucking my dick, princess?"

"You felt so good in my mouth."

Your words fuel him, and Namjoon doesn’t think twice before he inches closer and licks your folds, the tip of his tongue collecting your licking lust as he hums in pleasure.

"Sweetest fucking pussy" your eyes roll back.

Namjoon pulls away to admire the view. There are you, all pliant, waiting for his next action with your face pressed down his bed, your ass on display, pussy dripping in anticipation.

He never felt this fucking hard.

"God, you’re gorgeous. So beautiful for me like this."

He grips his cock, aligning himself with your entrance, but instead of just sinking it inside you, Namjoon drags his crown up and down your folds like he has all the fucking time in the world. Your spit mixing with your gushing arousal.

You groan — you wanna fight him.

"Namjoon" his name drips like sin from your lips.

"Uhm." He hums, distracted.

"Just fuck me already."

He smirks. 

"Now that’s no way of asking something, is it?" You groan. "Don't you wanna be a good girl for me?"

"Baby, please, can you fuck me? My pussy is so fucking wet right now." You whine, wiggling your ass, creating some, but not nearly enough, friction. "Please..."

Namjoon fucking loves your dirty mouth. "Good girl."

He slowly presses himself between your folds, shoving a loud moan from your throat.

You shudder from the intrusion, his tip deliciously splitting you up as it slides in your cunt.

"Shit, baby, you’re way too tight." He grunts. "Relax for me, princess."

Namjoon leans over you, his torso framing your back. He lays sweet kisses on your shoulders, and his hand on your hips starts to softly trace your skin, raising until he’s grabbing one of your boobs. He squeezes it, pitching your hard nipples.

His gentle touches make you melt, allowing for Namjoon to drag his cock further inside of you, finding little resistance as his thick cock stretches you up.

Your cunt engulf him so tightly that Namjoon feels his mind spiraling, and when his hips meet your ass, you both let out a shaky breath.

"Shit, I feel so fucking full."

He chuckles.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Yeah, fuck. Gimme a sec."

You roll your hips slightly to try and get used to his size, but he’s filling you up so good that the tiniest of movements makes his shaft drag against your walls, a quiet yelp falling from your lips.

"Ok." You gulp. "You can move."

Namjoon licks his lips and smirks, hands tightening on your hips.

"Hold tight, baby."

He slowly pushes himself out of you, but doesn’t give you time to feel empty as he immediately comes slamming back inside. You gasp, body jerking forward.

Your pussy welcomes him with each thrust, swallowing him with the most wet sounds you’ve ever heard, and you start to push your ass back to try and take him further between your tight walls.

His cock moves in a merciless pace, and you feel like you forgot how to breathe.

How the fuck does he know how to move his hips like that?

You’re exhilarated, mouth open but not a single sound coming out. Overwhelmed by his soft moans above you, by the way he stuffs your pussy full of him, by the way you can feel your legs wet with your arousal gushing from your core.

You try to get your shit together, prompting your ass back to meet his thrusts, and when you finally find his rhythm — but not without the help of his firm hands dragging you against him — the slapping sounds become so vulgar that you sob.

"That’s it, baby, that’s what you wanted, right?" He mumbles, voice barely coherent as his throbbing cock relentlessly drills your pussy. "To be fucked so hard, to be so stuffed you aren’t able to speak, hum?"

You hum, feeling like you’ll scream if you open your mouth.

Namjoon doesn’t like it, though. He hates the way you’re suppressing your pleasing from him.

"I thought I told you I wanna hear you losing it, baby. Where’s your filthy mouth?"

"So… you… so good, Namjoon… fuck" you stutter.

"You like it?"

"Yeah, shit, go harder."

His eyes flutter shut for a second.

"Anything you want, princess."

Namjoon shifts his legs, trying different angles to make you unable to hold your pretty sounds in. He attempts a couple of ways before he sets his left foot on the mattress, and when he resumes his thrusting a loud scream rips from your throat.

"That’s it, Namjoon, god, there. Please, do it again." You plea, voice pathetically high as you clench around him.

Your moaning is fuel to him, and he starts to fuck you as hard as he can, loving how you’re spiraling under him, tortured sounds finally reaching his ears.

"You feel so good, baby." You say and Namjoon growls.

Just as blissful as the sensation of his cock deep inside of your tight walls, is knowing that he’s making you feel on the fucking moon too. So, he seeks the same spot over and over again, his purpose clear.

You roll your hips, grinding on his cock.

God, it's such a shame you're not into degradation. All Namjoon wants it's to call you his slut.

"Shit, princess, you’re so greedy, fucking yourself with my cock."

You push your ass back again, but this time you feel his balls slapping against your clit and you both falter as lightning courses through your bodies, making you constrict your pussy around him.

"Do that again, baby girl." He commands, and you fucking obey.

You clench around his cock again, and Namjoon goes feral.

His strokes are hard, but so fucking precise that the way he’s railing your pussy makes you feel like you’re losing your grip on reality. 

Shit, this is too fucking good, and Namjoon feels dizzy. If he wasn’t drunk before he certainly feels like it now, thoroughly enjoying the way you’re completely unraveling under him.

"You’re squeezing me so good, so fucking tight for me." He groans out.

His fingers dig into your flesh in a way that you’re sure it’ll definitely bruise — but you want it too. You want him to mark you all over with the evidence of how good he’s fucking you, of how good he’s making you feel.

Your mind is clouded. Your knuckles sore from how hard you’re clutching the sheets.

Namjoon’s so fucking satisfied, pride exuding from his body as he looks down at you on his bed, being fucked senseless as he drills his cock in and out of you, loud slapping and squelching sounds making it even more obscene.

"You take me so well, shit, such a good girl." Namjoon groans, hypnotized by the way your body rocks with the force of his thrust.

You could die a happy woman just from the way he praises you. His words making your stomach twists in what you’re sure will be another mesmerizing orgasm. 

"I could fuck you all night, baby, and I just know you’d take it."

"Yeah, Namjoon— I, I would." You yelp. "I will."

He has the audacity to chuckle. 

"I’ll hold you up on that offer later."

You’re already so close again. God, you don’t wanna come like this, you don’t wanna come so soon.

"Namjoon?" You call and he hums in response. "I wanna ride you."

Did he win the lottery or something? He feels like he doesn’t deserve it. God, he missed like, three essay deadlines this semester, he definitely doesn’t deserve it. 

"Fuck, yeah, baby, you can ride me."

He slips out of you, and wastes no time crawling to sit at the headboard.

Namjoon reaches out to hold you, helping you straddle him with your wobbly legs. He laughs when you take a deep breath, goosebumps all over your skin.

"You sure you can ride me, though?"

"Shut up" you hiss, trying to concentrate before you wrap your hand around his length and lift over him to align him with your entrance.

A shaky cry falls from your lips as you gradually sink in his dick. The stretch is completely different and his fat cock splits you open so deliciously that you somehow feel even fullen than before.

"Fuck, I love this position." He reads your thoughts.

You just nod, unable to think as you find purchase on his shoulders. When you’re finally fully seated, you feel like Namjoon's cock is touching your soul.

"Fuck, Namjoon, you’re huge."

His face is all scrunched up, brows knit together in pleasure, and you’re almost angry at how beautiful this man is. The nerve.

"God, this pussy so fucking tight."

You take a deep breath, and swiftly roll your hips over him. Namjoon’s head thumb back and you feel so fucking powerful when his hands grab your ass, trying to guide you over him to reproduce the feeling. So you grind on him again, making his cock reach spots you didn’t even know you had.

After rolling a bit more on his lap, you muster all the strength you can and lean back, planting your palms on his thighs — have you mentioned how fucking beautiful his thighs is? — before slowly raising yourself.

The second time you drag your pussy down his length is even more delicious, and it makes you feel so good that you feel like this is wrong in some way.

Ok, who are you kidding?

You’re both pure sin at this point. There’s no turning back from the obscenities you two said tonight.

So yeah, fuck it.

You try to focus as you slowly start to move your hips up and down, regretting all the times your friends tried to convince you to exercise and you didn’t, because you can’t seem to find a pace.

But Namjoon, so very attentive to your needs, grabs your hips, helping you establish a sluggish pace — but a pace nonetheless.

You gradually start to feel more comfortable, more capable, and Namjoon’s grip on your waist is now more for his own sake than yours when your movements speed up.

Soon enough, you’re riding him in earnest, in a hard rhythm that makes you meet his pelvis each time, his thighs quiver under your weight in the most gorgeous way as you send Namjoon to the places he not long ago made you visit. 

A proud grin settles on your face, watching him grunt with each stroke. 

"You're so good for me, baby, letting me fuck you like a good boy" you echo his words, almost teasing, but your shaky tone betrays you.

"You fuck me so good, princess."

Shit, you feel lightheaded.

Namjoon bites his lip, eyes transfixed on your bouncing tits. He takes your boobs in his palms, caressing and grasping them softly, your sounds music to his ears.

Your gaze falls to his neck, not nearly enough marked by you, so you dive to his throat, tongue licking up to his ear before you start to kiss and suck harshly at his pulse points, making him moan loudly into your ear.

"You’re so sweet and big for me" you say, clenching around him and you feel his dick twitching inside.

"Shit, baby, do it again." He asks, and you promptly close your walls around him again.

Namjoon’s not sure how long he’ll last with you on top of him like this, riding the soul out of his body while your lips worship his neck. But he needs you to come first — or rather, again, but this time around his throbbing cock.

Thankfully you’re not far. Your lower belly is contracting, nearing your high, and you’re so gone that you could tell Namjoon you love him at this point, you don’t even care — and you don’t think he does either.

"You’re so good for me, my pretty girl."

His? Shit, can you have that on paper?

"All yours, baby."

You yelp when Namjoon’s thumb finds your clit and starts rubbing you. The pad of his fingers spreads your wetness over your bundle of nerves, your heart ramming against your ribcage.

"Baby, I’m… I’m close." You're fucking panting, that's what you are.

"Thank god." He breaths. "Can I take over, princess?"

You nod, and Namjoon circles his strong arm around your waist, turning you without slipping his dick off of you.

When he suits himself above you, you immediately wrap your legs around his torso, and Namjoon starts to fuck you like he’s made for it. Fuck, why does he feel like he is, though?

His thrusts are relentless, but he uses his last working braincell to aim his cock against the spots he’s learned that make you cry louder — which you do.

Your hands grip at his hair, tugging hard as your head falls back.

You have to gather all the focus you possibly can to open your mouth, your voice barely a whisper.

"Choke me, baby."

Namjoon gulps.

"What."

"Please, choke me."

"Shit, princess." Is this what dying feels like?

Namjoon closes his hand around your neck, fingers pressing down your pulse points as he feels your erratic heartbeat slightly soothing under his fingertips. Why is this so hot?

Your every sensation is heightened. His cock heavenly railing you, his hot breath fanning against your sweaty skin, the loud sounds that fall both from where your bodies meet and from his mouth.

It takes barely a minute before white spots blur your vision. The tight not in your stomach snaps so fucking hard a scream leaves your parted lips.

Namjoon wants to know how to immortalize the way your face scrunches up when you come — would you let him do it again just so he can take a picture?

The force of your orgasm makes your pussy clench hard around his cock, and you milk him and your body quivers violently. When your back arches from the bed, his bed, he swears you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.

His thrusts become shallow, and you’re still rocking with the afterwaves of your orgasm, fighting through the overstimulation when Namjoon feels his own high approaching, so he quickly pulls himself out of your cunt.

He rips the condom off of his cock, tossing it wherever for him to mind later, and starts to pump himself above you. And what a fucking sight to behold.

"Come for me, baby, you’ve been so good, I want you to come all over me."

And like the good boy he is, Namjoon immediately does.

His hot white cum paints your belly just like he promised, a guttural groan leaving his throat as he empties himself over your stomach until he’s thoroughly spent.

You look down, wetting your lips before you bring your finger to your belly. You collect his cum with a flicker of your finger, and take your hands to wrap your mouth around, tasting his salty orgasm with a satiated hum.

Namjoon shudders. In that second, he wants nothing more than to come again just to see you eat his cum out of yourself once more.

"You’re a fucking menace, you know that?"

You smile innocently, and he falls beside you on his sheets.

Namjoon’s breath is uneven, and he brings his hands to push his hair out of his face.

You turn to him, a large grin on your lips. Namjoon’s eyes find yours.

"What?" His lips curve upwards.

"Fuck, sweet boy, I think I’m in love."

You two start giggling, you shake your shoulders in pure mirth while his laugh reverberates all through his body — you both find those sounds just as attractive as the obscenes ones you were eliciting just now.

It takes some time before your shared amusement softly becomes small snickers. 

"Still with the sweet thing?"

"You’re the best I’ve ever had, baby, you’re definitely my sweet boy." He takes his lips in his teeth, shaking his head. 

"I’m the best, huh?"

"Hell, yeah, I’m fucking giggling, Namjoon. Really, what the fuck."

"You’re the best pussy I’ve ever had. I honestly couldn’t be happier your brother bailed on you."

"Shut up." You playfully shove his shoulder, chuckling.

"Seriously, though, introduce me to him, I need to thank him."

"Don't ruin it." You joke.

You both fall into a comfortable silence, collecting your breaths.

"Wait, be right back."

Namjoon lazily gets on his feet, grabbing the used condom from the floor and heading to his bathroom, closing the door.

He returns a couple minutes after, a towel in his hand as he crawls back to bed and starts to gently clean your stomach, reaching your pussy and easing the mess he’s made of you.

"Thanks."

"Don’t mention it." You try to get out of bed, but your shaky legs make you stumble as you get up.

Namjoon quickly helps you steady yourself, a proud smile curving his lips.

"Can I use your bathroom?"

"Sure."

"Uhm… also, do you mind if I stay the night?" You ask, glancing at the clock on his bedside table, noting it’s way past one in the morning.

"Princess, I expect you too." Namjoon smirks. "We’re not nearly done."

Namjoon somehow can look even better in the morning.

You wake up feeling his serene heartbeat beneath your ear, his arms enveloping you and your legs entangled.

You’ve been just peacefully staring at him for around ten minutes now.

At first it was because you feel like you’ve been hit by a bus, sore to the bones. But then, it was because he’s just so damn beautiful you couldn’t help it.

He takes a deep breath, stretching his limbs as he wakes up, yawning loudly. You inch closer and give him a quick peck on his cheek, before resting your chin on his chest.

"Good morning, pretty girl" he smiles, opening his eyes and tugging you closer.

"Morning, sweet boy."

"How long you’ve been awake?"

"Not sure. Ten minutes?"

"Wow, and you’ve just been staring at me? That's so creepy." You roll your eyes, and he chuckles.

Neither of you speaks for another couple of minutes, bathing in the calmness of the morning.

"You ok?" He asks.

"Yeah. Really sore, though."

"Well, you asked for it."

"I did, didn’t I?" You grin. "And you gave it to me like the good boy you are." You tease, kissing his lips.

He reciprocates the touch, but neither of you takes it further.

So. Fucking. Tired.

"I see I wasn’t able to teach you how to behave."

"I’m a lost cause, but I appreciate the effort." He huffs out a laugh, closing his eyes.

"What time is it?"

You turn on his hold to face his clock. "Almost ten."

"Hum."

Namjoon doesn’t make any move to get up, and you start to look over his room. For some reason, you didn’t pay it the slightest attention the night before.

"You in college?" You ask, when you notice tons of books piled on the floor near his dresser.

"Yeah, in my last year."

"Uhm, so pretty boy is also intelligent." He snickers.

"My good looks can be deceiving."

"I was deceived indeed. You have such a dirty mouth, I was baffled." He shoves you away from his grip, groaning.

"You're one to say, the filthiest girl I’ve ever met."

"The filthiest? You flatter me." You laugh, as he playfully pushes you to the other side of the bed. "Oh c’mon, you liked it."

He smiles. "Yeah, I did."

He’s so tender you almost feel shy.

"What do you study?"

"Literature."

"It suits you." You say, scanning his face.

"Thanks, I really like it. But what about you? Aren’t you in college?"

"I graduated last year."

"What you do?"

"Architecture."

"That’s nice."

"Yeah. I’m on a work trip, actually."

"You’re not from here?"

"No, I live in Busan."

"Oh. My roommate is from Busan."

"You have a roommate?" You ask, mortified, but Namjoon chuckles.

"Don’t worry, he was out. He didn’t hear the way you were screaming last night." You shake your head, a smile on your face. Namjoon breathes deeply before lifting to a sitting position on the bed. "Want some breakfast?"

"Yeah, I’d like that. Let me just use the bathroom real quick."

"Ok. Do you like toast? That’s basically the only thing I can make."

"Finally!"

"What?" He frowns.

"Finally you have a flaw, oh my god, I was losing hope" you say dramatically, raising your arms.

"Can't have you falling in love now, can I?" He jokes and you laugh.

Namjoon gets out of bed and you follow, heading for the bathroom and closing the door behind you.

He smiles to himself, shaking his head.

He makes his way to his kitchen, finding his roommate already there, eating his breakfast.

"Morning." He announces himself, and Jimin turns to him.

"Hey, man" he smiles mischievously, cocking his head in the direction of your clothes lying on the floor "how was the party last night?"

Namjoon's brief concern for forgetting to gather the clothes you took off in the kitchen quickly dissolves into a smirk.

"The party? Oh, I kept it in my room."

"All night?"

"All fucking night." They both chuckle. "She’s in the bathroom, so please be civil when she comes here."

Namjoon goes to his cabinets, grabbing some bread to prepare you something to eat.

"Sure, man."

"What about you? You arriving now?"

"I came home around six, I think, so I just crashed. Woke up half an hour ago."

"And how was it with that guy?"

"It was mid. But hey, it was worth the shot. Even if he has no fucking game he's still hot as fuck."

"Sorry to hear that." Jimin shrugs. 

"And what about this girl, huh?"

"Man, this girl…" Namjoon trails off, shaking his head "so fucking hot, I felt like I was dreaming."

"Really? You seeing her again then?"

"Don’t think so, she’s not from here."

"That’s too bad."

"Yeah, it’s whatever. By the way, do you wanna hang out later? There’s this music festival going on and I have no one to go with."

"Don't know, I’m probably going out with my sister today, she flew from Busan to see me."

"Oh nice. Maybe you could introduce us."

"Yeah, if she’s down maybe we can all go together to this festival." Namjoon nods.

He leans on the counter, facing Jimin, and smiles once he sees you coming from the hall.

"Hey, pretty girl."

Jimin turns back when Namjoon acknowledges you.

"Oh, hey sis!" Jimin greets automatically — before freezing completely.

Both yours and Namjoon’s eyes widen in terror.

"Chim?!"

"Wait— she’s your sister!?"

"Jimin’s your roommate from Busan?"

You stand still in the hallway, watching mortified as your brother's face contorts in a grimace, realization hitting him before he shoots his friend a deadly glare.

"God, Namjoon, you fucked my sister?!"

"I didn’t know it was your sister!"

"Man, you’re fucking gross!"

"The fuck’s that supposed to mean?!" You ask, indignant.

"My sister’s not hot!"

"Jimin?!"

"Can’t agree with you on that one, man, sorry." Namjoon argues.

"Those are my sister’s clothes, man?" He continues, ignoring what his friend said for his mental health’s sake, before he turns to you. "And you’re wearing his clothes? What the fuck?!"

"Jimin, stop being a child."

"You came to Seoul to fuck my roommate?!"

"You’re the one who stood me up last night. To fuck, may I remind you."

"Thanks for that, by the way." Namjoon interjects, winking at you, and a small smile crosses your lips before Jimin groans, exasperated.

"Seriously, man?! And what the hell happened to your neck, did he fucking punch you?"

"God, no! I just cho—"

"Shut up! God, I can’t fucking look at your two right now, unbelievable." He says, getting up in a hussle before striding to his room, cursing under his breath.

You and Namjoon are left alone in the kitchen, silence filling the room.

You gauge his expressions, realizing he’s doing the same.

"Thank fuck he wasn’t here last night." Namjoon says after a while, and you can’t contain the laugh that escapes past your lips.

"You really had to thank him, though?" Namjoon bites his lips. 

"I'd feel bad if I didn't. Mom taught me to be grateful." He bites his lip. "Do you still want that toast?"

You smile. "Sure, sweet boy."

note ↠ sooooo, what do you think? i really hope you guys enjoyed it as much as i did! it took some time for me to finally be satisfied with it, and i have like, ten versions lost somewhere in my google docs lmao links ↠ navigation | masterlist | join my permanent taglist

#bts fanfic #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fic #namjoon smut #namjoon pwp #namjoon x you #namjoon x reader #namjoon imagine #namjoon scenarios #namjoon oneshot #kim namjoon fic #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon #kim namjoon smut #kim namjoon x you #kim namjoon pwp #rm #rm x reader #rm smut #bts #bts fic #namjoon #luawrites #fic:all.night

[barnesafterglow]

she lives in daydreams with me

summary: your best friends thinks she has a solution to your problem

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: college au, reader is bisexual, another cameo bc apparently that's my niche, phone/facetime sex, f masturbation (duh), soft dom!wanda, mommy kink question mark, praise, this is not based off real life unless it is ykwim

a/n: hi this is my first time writing wlw smut so please go easy on me. i'm almost done with my kinktober prompts! i hope you all have enjoyed them, and reblog and comments are very appreciated!

you can follow @theafterglowlibrary to stay updated on when i post 🤍

kinktober masterlist ─ main masterlist

“I think you just need to get laid, you know?”

You rolled your eyes, entirely unamused with her suggestion. Of course you needed to get laid, but she didn’t have to say it out loud. She saw the eye roll clearly through the computer screen, which sent her into a fit of laughter.

“Yeah, yeah, thanks for that,” was your response. “Any suggestions for that? Because the entire population of New York City seems to think I’m a leper who can’t be touched.”

“Have you even tried?”

“I downloaded Tinder.”

“Did you make a profile?”

“Well, no.”

“Okay then.”

The two of you had this conversation every handful of months, after you had broken things off with another “friends with benefits” situation and were sick of not getting off whenever you wanted.

“I’m just saying, babe,” she started off gently, which you knew was a load of bullshit, “you always know where you can go for help.”

“I’m not hooking up with Barnes again.” She was forever trying to get you to go out with your neighbor - who you had already spent the night with on more than one occasion. “We’re better off as friends.”

“You can’t be just friends with a man like that. I mean from what you told me about his -”

“Okay!” you said, cutting her off. “We were talking about your terrible suggestion and how there’s no solution?”

“I just think you need someone who knows. Someone you know would be good to you.”

“Yeah? Like who?”

“Like me.”

You had been taking a sip of the water, and it took every ounce of self control you had to keep from spewing it all over your laptop.

It’s not that it had never crossed your mind. Wanda was beautiful and was definitely good in bed - you had shared an apartment with her long enough, before she decided to study abroad, to know that she kept her girlfriends satisfied. She had also been your best friend since you were in diapers and you’d never wanted to jeopardize that.

But the way she was looking at you now, you could see the darkness in her green eyes even through the screen, and suddenly you had never wanted anyone more.

“I - really?” You expected her to laugh and say just kidding! and you would move on like nothing happened, but instead she just bit her lip and nodded.

Well fuck.

“You’re halfway across the world, Wan.” She was in Vienna at the moment, studying art culture or whatever it is that went on in her brain. “I can’t wait until you get back.”

“Who says you have to wait?” And oh wasn’t that something. “Do you trust me?”

Your answer was immediate. “Of course.”

“Then why don’t you take your clothes off and go sit on your bed?”

It felt like your heart was pounding out of your chest. You couldn’t believe this was your Wanda. Your Wanda. Maybe she would be after tonight.

You turned your head back towards your bed; the way your laptop was placed on your desk, there would be a perfect view of you from the camera. Like you were putting on a show.

For a moment, you hesitated. Were you really going to cross this line? Was it worth the risk?

And, yeah, Wanda was worth anything.

So you stood up, slowly pushing your desk chair in and setting gingerly on the end of your bed. You took your shorts off first, exposing the pink panties with a little bow on the front. Call it fate, but Wanda had always said they made your ass look fantastic.

You spread your legs just a little, enough to be seductive but not enough to show anything - yet.

Then you played with the hem of your shirt, teasing it up to show the skin of your stomach before dropping the material. Just as you were about the material over your head, her voice came through the speakers.

“Don’t tease, baby. Let me see you.”

Your core was molten lava. She had called you a lot of nicknames over the years, some affectionate, some funny, and some that were so off the wall you would never know where they came from. But baby was new. Baby had you squeezing your thighs together. Baby would be the only thing you ever responded to for the rest of your life.

The shirt came off, flying to some corner of your room, and your chest was bare to her. Her intake of breath served to make you self conscious and confident at the same time. It wasn’t the first time she had seen you naked - and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last - but those times had always been a platonic sense, at least mostly. 

But now she was staring at you like she wanted to eat you alive, and you had never wanted her to be home more than you did in that moment.

You slipped your hands under the waistband of your underwear, ready to expose yourself in an entirely new way, when you looked up to see her completely stripped down. You could feel the puddle forming in your panties immediately.

“You didn’t think I was going to let you have all the fun, did you?” She had a cheshire smile on her face, laced with lust and love and wonder, and suddenly you weren’t nervous anymore. 

Your panties came off and the two of you took a moment just to soak in the sight of the other.

Wanda was beautiful - perfect tits topped with rosy pink nipples, smooth skin all the way down to her core, and the prettiest pussy you had ever seen.

Her hands wandered and your eyes followed, dumbstruck, as they settled on her inner thighs. Your gaze flicked up to her face, where she seemed to be waiting patiently.

It was like you had forgotten you even had a body, you were so mesmerized by her that even the thought of anything else was a far off dreamland.

But you knew what she wanted, so you slipped your underwear and spread your legs wide, mirroring her movements.

“Now let me see you open yourself for me. Start with one finger, let me see how tight you are.”

Following her words were like second nature, and you leaned back on one elbow on your bed, the other hand circling your clit, before sinking one finger into yourself, starting to move slowly. When you looked up, you saw Wanda was doing the same.

It ripped a moan from your body, a noise you had never made before, and she smiled wickedly.

“Yeah, baby, you like that? You’re doing such a good job. Why don’t you add another finger for me?”

You did as she asked, letting another finger join the first while you pumped in and out of yourself. When she asked you for another, you quickly obliged, then doing the same when she told you to lay back and use the other hand to play with your clit.

And every move you made, you moaned at the sight of Wanda doing the same, until the only noises were breathy moans and the wetness of your bodies. 

It was almost instinct to ask for permission once you felt the coil in your stomach on the verge of snapping.

“Mo- Wanda, please, let me come.”

She wasn’t in the mood to tease you, it seemed, because she gasped a yes and followed you over the edge.

Once you came down, you sat up, taking in her flushed face and the redness that spread all the way down to her chest, then looked her right in the eyes and sucked your own juices from your fingers.

She smiled, pleased, and you again mirrored her. There was no awkwardness, you didn’t think there ever could be with her, and you searched for your t-shirt, slipping it on as you sat down in your desk chair.

Lucky for you, she didn’t follow suit, and you were allowed a closer look at her perky tits.

“Wan, I need you to come home ASAP.”

“Don’t worry baby, I already bought a plane ticket.”

kinktober taglist *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

@treatbuckywkisses @sgt-barnesveins @bucky-barmes @opheliastark @sweetascanbee @writing-for-marvel @christywantspizza @hi-sarahh @highlyintelligentblonde @jjbunny14 @buckysfavoritereader

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximov #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda marvel #tiff writes #kinktober 22

[desceros]

You & GB are RUINING me with your blurple villain Leo au How dare you sirs?! You've turned me absolutely feral a slobbering bitey mess /pos

Unfortunately for you activating my hyperfixation also means activating my obsessive brain spinning... Questions be upon ye!!!

Did Lamb-chan grow up with Donnie? How did she first meet villain!Leo? What did she do/say that flipped Leo from "you're a pretty dumb innocent little lamb huh" to "you're *mine* I am keeping you forever"? How did Donnie react the first time Lamb-chan came home smelling like Leo? Is that what snapped his control, the moment his instincts drove him to finally (thoroughly) demonstrate just how well he can take care of her? How did Leo react the next time he saw Lamb-chan & she smelled like Donnie?

I humbly submit these questions in the hopes that you may see fit to give me any crumbs nay even specks of delicious brain food that can be spared 🙏 pls & ty 🙏🙏

[after i gush for twenty minutes about how this is all their fault for enabling me] oh man i love questions

EDIT THIS GOT SO LONG. OH MY GOD. IM PUTTING IT UNDER A CUT also hi @gbao3 <3 please add your thoughts to this as well

so it aaaaaaall started with this post, with leo being the wolf and donnie being the sheep dog.

as such, you're childhood friends with donnie, since sheep dogs grow up with their sheep. i imagine he's basically always been a little in love with you, but it hasn't always been... ah... healthy? like. when he was young it was that kind of 'when we grow up let's get married bc we're best friends' love. and then as a teenager it became kind of an obsession. doesn't the world know how important you are to him? can't you see how dangerous it can be without him to protect you?

it's during this stage that he's maybe a bit self-destructive with it, literally at one point putting himself between you and another mutant, ending up with him having the scars on his shell. he mellows out a little as he grows older, to the point where now it's just a fact of his life that he's in love with you and there won't ever be anyone else; it's less of a fire inside of him and more just. yeah. duh? of course i love them and would die for them? zzzzz next question. but he's still very much the kind of person who asks you your itinerary down to the fifteen minute mark when you leave so he can make sure to know exactly when you'll be home.

i suspect that as lamb-chan, as much as you also love donnie, that can get a little, uh. overbearing. to say the least. i think that you have a habit of slipping out from time to time (since you live at the lair where donnie is always always always watching), just to breathe, to get away from it a little. the world looks a little different without donatello at your side, after all, and you're a little curious. so maybe you wander a little too far, sometimes.

and leo. god. leo is a breath of something that feels like air, but you're not sure what it is.

i don't have the exact first meeting pinned down in my head, but i do have this mental image of him sitting on a fire escape, one knee bent up to his chest and the other hanging down the side, a toothy grin on his face as he mockingly asks what a soft little thing like you is doing on this side of town. and you see him and you're just like, oh. he. he looks a lot like donnie. so you're a lot less scared than you probably should be, and that—that fascinates him. what kind of world do you live in where he's all but a perfect picture of the underbelly of the world, and you smile at him?

what would it take for you to look at him like everyone else does?

so he invites you to come back again. and you, well, you're just like. wow!! friend shaped!! so you do. but this time leo's not on the fire escape. he's on the ground, and he circles you a bit like a predator would. he's looking for you to be uncomfortable; to be afraid. but he made one small mistake; the shape of his smirk, now that he's close, is eerily familiar. it looks so much like donnie's, you could swear the two were twins. and it makes it so, so hard to be anything other than curious. mikey and raph don't look so similar to donnie, after all. why does leo?

so it continues like that until one day, leo says something and you laugh. and that—that hits him like a bludgeon to the chest. it's not like any laugh he's ever had directed at him before. and when you open your eyes, wiping away the amused tears, your gaze is so fucking soft. in that moment, leo realizes that he's hungry. and you—you look like you'd taste so. good.

meanwhile donnie is like. no really. where the fuck are you going. and one day he follows you and who the fuck is this guy with his arms around you. (but i think i'm going to leave that one for another day bc i have a nice one-shot in my drafts folder about how that'd play out)

#ask tag #blurple villain au #pspspspsps gb come and talk blurples with me #yes yes i know i should be working on symphony I COULDNT RESIST. I GOT AN ASK ABOUT THE BRAIN WORM AU

[lightningandfireinmybones]

don’t know if you’re still taking requests for prompts but is possible can the audience get 14, 15, 36, 46, 54 all in one. thank you so much for all the wonderful writing you’ve blessed us with so far btw 🥺❤️.

HELLO MY LOVE I WASN'T IGNORING YOU I WAS JUST FINISHING UP CHAPTER 20 BUT HERE WE GOOOOOOOOO

“i want to taste you” & “open your mouth” & “you’re mine” & “you feels so good” & “don’t forget who you belong to”

(18+ !!!!!

horny jail bc we're leaning into the uncle thing in an au where it's not normalized for targs,,, you've been warned and my ticket to every religion's hell has been booked in advance so no need to remind me)

"Aemond! What the fuck-"

"Don't," Aemond hisses, continuing to drag Valaena down the hallway, the sounds of the party dying behind them the deeper into the house they go.

"Don't what? Don't object to being manhandled out of my brother's birthday?" Valaena aims a kick at Aemond's groin, one he avoids by throwing her into her darkened bedroom.

"Don't," Aemond grits out, following her in and slamming the door shut behind him, "dance with another man like that in front of me."

In the purple glow of the LEDs surrounding her bed, Aemond can see Valaena cross her arms over her chest, just accentuating the swell of her breasts over the edge of the corset top he loves and hates at once. The second he'd walked into Jace's birthday party to see Valaena dressed in a tight black and gold corset with leather pants molded to the curve of her ass, he should've known the night would bring nothing but trouble.

Seeing her grind with Cregan, Jace's best friend, on the makeshift dancefloor had tested his patience until he'd finally snapped and dragged her away.

"Oh?" Valaena arches a brow at him, accentuating the scar on her face, the one he'd given her. "Don't grind my ass against another man's dick? What, would it be okay if I ground my ass against a woman then?"

"Don't let anyone else touch that body. That ass is mine." Aemond leans against the door, blocking her way out, staring down at her as he breathes through the last of his patience.

"We're not together anymore, Aemond! You left me, remember? I can dance with whoever I want!" Valaena storms closer, teetering in the heels she's wearing, slamming her finger into the center of Aemond's chest.

"Valaena. You're mine. You always have been and you always will be," Aemond declares, grabbing her wrist and spinning her around, slamming her back against the door. He pins her wrists above her head in one hand, slots his knee between her legs, right in the cradle of warmth between her thighs. Every rational thought, every sense of self-preservation deserting him at the jealousy coursing through his veins.

"You said you were my uncle, just my uncle," Valaena pants out, her hips flush against his. "A good uncle doesn't rub his thigh against his niece like this."

"A good uncle doesn't do a lot of things," Aemond trails his hand up her side, ghosting over her breasts, just grazing her collarbones, caressing her neck. "But you're not a very good little niece, are you? Good nieces don't dress like this to tempt their uncle. Good nieces don't rub their needy little pussy on their uncle's thigh."

He tightens his grip on her throat. Giving into temptation, he licks the glitter from the elegant column of her neck.

"Tell me to stop," Aemond nips at the racing thump of her pulse. "Tell me you don't want me."

Instead of restoring sanity to them both, Valaena moans his name.

"Kepus," she says breathily, "I want to taste you."

The words are knives to the last shreds of his self-control.

In one motion, he's pushing her down to her knees, gripping her hair in his hands as he forces her chin up to look at her. Lavender eyes glitter at him, a flush working down her chest, the dark edge of a nipple poking over the edge of the corset.

"Open your mouth," Aemond says darkly.

Valaena obeys nearly instantly, lush lips parting and pink tongue poking out like she's waiting for him. Her hands are scrabbling at his hips, the metallic clang of his belt buckle the only sound in the room above their harsh breathing and the distant thud of a rap song's bass.

His cock springs free, Valaena's tongue darting out to lick at the head like it's a lollypop, big eyes on him the whole time.

He pulls the hair in his hand harshly, tugging hard enough to jerk her head back.

"No teasing. You want your uncle to fuck your mouth? Fine. Take it, Sweet Niece."

Without warning, Aemond thrusts forward, his cock disappearing deep into Valaena's mouth. She chokes nearly immediately, hands coming to clutch his thighs for stabilization. He doesn't give her any time to adjust, ruthlessly taking her mouth for his own.

Guilt doesn't exist. Time doesn't exist. The way her father is going to kill them both doesn't exist.

The only thing that is real, that is true, is the warmth of her mouth, the tears gathering in the corner of Valaena's eyes, the flick of her tongue across the head of his cock when he pulls out.

"You feel so good, taking my cock so well," Aemond groans, pushing her head deeper onto him. "You wanted your uncle's cock in your mouth? You wanted to be a dirty little whore for me, on your knees and loving every second of it?"

Valaena moans around him, the vibrations traveling up his spine to lodge in his brain. She loves this. She danced with Cregan to start this.

Fuck. They'd never escape each other.

He is unforgiving, but she takes every inch of him, choking and gagging around the thick length. It is heaven, it is hell, it is every condemnation they deserve mixed with absolution they do not.

With his fingers digging into the back of her neck, Aemond comes with a cry of her name.

Every drop, every spurt down her throat, she takes, swallowing with fervor, sucking him for all he's worth. It spills out of her mouth, her tongue following, an obscene scene dragging him down.

When he can finally bear to part from her, he pulls himself out of her mouth, crouching down to her level. Mascara tracks run down her cheeks, her lips are swollen from the abuse, but her eyes are bright. Happy.

Aemond runs his thumb over her lip, catching a stray drop of his cum. He pushes his thumb past her lips, into the sweetness of her mouth.

"Don't forget who you belong to, Sweet Niece."

#i leaned into the uncle thing #might as well enjoy the ride if i'm going to hell #enjoy you heathens:') #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen fanfiction #hotd fanfic #tdopom fic #ask #minors dni

[ferninapot]

What have I been up to?

Rigorous twink drawing, that's what.

This guy's chosen name is Solon and he's 50% a dragon. I've been enjoying my micron pens

And I've also been enjoying scanning from my sketch book it's really fulfilling I do recommend

So!!!!!

Here's a little bit about him bc I'm feeling silly and want to ramble. Ik my original content doesn't get as many notes but I really don't have much motivation for otherwise rn and I don't want to shut up about him. (Anon in my drafts your ask will be answered soon)

Also since I've been feeling demon slayer a lot he will be in my crossover au, particularly with doma bc tbh I kind of ship that guy with most of my ocs these days.... May make a doma x ryūshi!reader soon so watch out for that or whatever..... I still ship kokudouma tho............

He but honestly not him!

He was born of a dragon father and a human mother. The father was a deadbeat just like mine. 💀 He was also the one who gave Solon the name "solon," but upon literally fucking leaving he was left with a western-seeming given name and a Japanese last name because dad never got married to mom. But mom calls him ryūshi (龍子) which means "child of a dragon" or "dragon child"

Which... He is. But he kinda hates it. Hates the meaning and hates the bullying he received for having "demon-like" features...which are literally just traits he inherited from dragons in my ou (Who wouldn't?)

So he goes by his father's name and tells anyone he meets of his western name instead. Which weirds people out when they realize that yeah, he is Japanese lmao! But he usually explains it by saying he studied abroad for a period of time and adopted a western name as a result.

That aside... What traits does he have?

Claws.

Fangs.

Eyes. (Heterochromic, his right eye a direct juxtaposition to his left eye. One is draconic and the other is... Normal 💀)

Bioluminescent marks. Dont ask how.

Carnivorous tendencies. All he'll eat is anything with meat this guy is a vegan's worst nightmare

And he hides all of these to the best of his ability!

Noticeably sharp teeth? Yeah I think I'll just not speak often. Let's throw on a mask to boot and never open my mouth wide when I don't have one.

Carnivorous tendencies? My bad bro I'm just a meat lover (both kinds)

As for his marks, they tend to fizzle out for most of the year, and reappear around the same time his birthday month is right around the corner... Or already there.

He can't control the glow so he kinda just goes into solitary confinement and when he isn't doing that he's bundling up to cover said glow 💀

He's also at his strongest around the time the marks appear. Stronger than he can manage. There's a lot of money spending around those times because if he does literally anything too hard his possessions can and will shatter to pieces.

As far as like, the KNY universe is concerned and his involvement with it?

Mightve considered becoming a slayer, but he instead chose against it because the occupation seemed very risky. You know. In spite of his unusually high endurance. And general hardiness.

He has no reason to become involved with a battle for others when he's battling himself ig

But that's not to say he hasn't bounced around the option.

He's only encountered a demon once and that demon mistook him for another demon. They never saw each other again.

But he has come across slayers plenty of times, and he admires their resolve to protect those around them.

Not exactly sure why nobody knows about them. But he doesn't have the courage to inform, lest he sound more insane than he already looks.

Oh yeah, he has really bad self esteem. And even worse self perception.

His mom wasn't exactly cruel to him all the time, but she was cruel about giving him the name ryūshi given he literally is one.

Although he isn't a doormat and will fight back, he is afraid to most of the time—not necessarily out of kindness (although he doesn't really want to hurt anyone too badly) but rather fear of being reprimanded for self defense. He can't exactly control how strong he is yet.

But dear God, does he hope he'll be able to soon. 💀

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Okay. Um. I'll probably post a few more parts to this since he's relatively new and I'm still figuring him out but so far I'm loving him! Hope y'all do too, idk. ☠️

#artists on tumblr #my art #oc #art #eev rambles #oc rambling #eev oc posting #oc drabbles #kny #kny crossover

[moankasa]

Hi! It’s been a long time since i post my story, honestly i don’t feel to write again, kinda accept the canon ending ;) idk, i think i’m gonna take hiat. I’m posting this bcs this au already in my draft since i make tumblr but i haven’t finish it or would write it till end.

=================================

Behind The Wall

This village is too dangerous for Mikasa. So her parent decided to hide her from everyone even their neighbors and made a plan for her.

But one day everything that her parent plan about; destroy, when a disaster come in little boy form name Eren. The brown hair boy with green eyes that Mikasa like so much.

Trigger Warning: Loss Virginity, Dumbification, Breeding kink, Different size

I know i MUST study, but shit I can’t even a day thinking about EM. So here you go, i think i still can write one shot.

“But i want to go with you”

“Do you have any money?” He asked her with irritating face. She shake her head.

How pathetic.

He took a deep breath and grab her shoulder, lean on her, and whisper “Then you must pay it in another way” his husky voice tickling her ear.

She can see how terrific her mother when Mikasa accidentally fell to the floor after try to lean at the wooden door that haven’t locked yet.

Since she was a baby, her mother and father always hid her in the room or closet when someone came to their house. Mikasa never knew who was come and sit on their couch talking with her parent and it seems the guest always change because sometimes she can hear a grown up man voice and the other day a soft little girl voice echoing her living room.

And today a little boy, around her age, standing right infront of her parent, see her with surprised eye and he sneered.

He has tan skin with brown hair and green glowing eyes “I knew it” he say then look back to Mikasa’s parent “There’s a child in this house” and smiled.

Mikasa doesn’t understand what happen, why her parent look so pale, and why that boy keep smiling showing his white teeth and little fangs. “Oh please, I didn’t mean to hide it from you-!” “What’s her name?” That boy cut her mother words. She took a deep breath and with trembling voice replied “Her name is Genevie”.

Who is Genevie? There’s no one in this house has that name, what was her mother thinking? “No mom” Mikasa furrow her brow.

“GENEVIE!” Her mother called her with widen eyes while her father hold her mother arm try to calm her down “What are you saying? You are Genevie. Y-yes Eren, this is my daughter a-and her name is-!”.

“Is Mikasa!” She shouted “My name is Mikasa!”

The boy that named Eren grin at her mother, stare at her deeply, you think you can fool me?

Eren walk over to Mikasa, who still bravely stood up and face him while her mother and father already call Eren many time wish that boy will turn his body and change his mind.

“Eren Please! I’ll do anything but don’t- don’t touch her!”

And he touch her, he like the sound of crying begging about something that will never listen to her wish. Eren tuck Mikasa’s hair to the back of her ear, seeing her from toe to head and smiled. Eren is a nice person, because he like to smile, and Mikasa can’t stop thinking about his cute smile.

“Eren, nice too meet you”.

~~~

Once her grandma told her a story about a creature that look like a human but they were not same as us. Some say they’re a mix of sinner and demon who made powerful descendants that have an ability to control a human. But first they have make a contact with that human first before they can use them like a puppet.

And in this village everybody called it the “Alpha” because they were stronger and smarter than human.

They can shapeshift into anything that they like, usually their normal size is a bit bigger and taller than average human. That’s why it easy to see which one is alpha and which one is the human. But when they shape shifting it’s really hard since they can turn their self to different kind of age.

It’s the middle of the day and Mikasa will sneak out from her house to meet him, Eren.

The boy that she met eight years ago.

And from the first time he touch her, Mikasa already fall in love with him.

Her parent told her to stay away from Eren, that’s why Mikasa’s parent doesn’t allow her to go outside especially outside the Village beside the wall. Eren often came to her house just to ‘visit’ and tell her his story. That he go there and there meet who and when, just to make her want to go outside the wall to see the world. She always adore him, she deeply in love with that man.

He still her kiss, and it’s okay, because she wanted more.

Today she met him on the bluebells field near the wall. She can’t wait, that why she choose to run.

“Oh Eren please take me with you!” She hug him tightly and burry her face on his chest “I’m tired with my parent. They forced me to marry another man and I don’t want that!” Mikasa is fifteen years old and her mother think she is prepared to get married and leave this village. The man who she going to marry is not some random guy but the son of Mikasa’s parent close friend, Jean. He tall, kind, and quite handsome too at least that’s what her mother said.

Everytime Mikasa tell Eren about her want to go with him, more like runaway with him, Eren always rejected her wish.

#cath’s writting

[fruiteggsaladit]

The fandom needs more aus so Im adding one I just made#2

Mp100 au - The whole basis for Reigen and Mob's mentor-mentee relationship is built on a lie that was good for the both of them. Mob needed to know a self-assured adult esper who understood that his powers can be dangerous and has thought about that constructively and productively, and Reigen needs a nephew-best-friend he can help teach and grow so he has a long-term social relation.

So it's a little difficult to think of who would fit the bill for Reigen - if I can figure that out, then I know who would be Mob.

Yusuke would be the one to leave the safe water bottle company and make his own office and lie about having ESP to a kid who needs guidance, I think. But would he break that character once he learned the kid DOES have powers? If he's an adult and assuming he grew up pretty okay (Reigen standards) then I imagine at most that he's having a moment of inner panic abt having lied abt this bc he thought the kid was fibbing. And then he looks at the kid being so hopeful and glad and he folds - he'll roll w it! The kid needs the lie right now.

Oh, Masaru could be a good choice? The very kid that Yusuke saves and dies for in canon! Another thought was Botan in a role-reversal au as well as mp100 au.

Suddenly entranced by the concept of Yukina in the role of Shou. "See you later!" She says with a gentle smile. Anthy Himemiya is that u--

In that case I could see Yusuke as Mob and Shizuru and Botan having dual roles as Reigen (being the mentor: Shizuru, being the goofball w crazy charisma rolls: Botan)

Kuwabara siblings sharing the spot for Serizawa would be neat! They're very sensible in canon, both practice and encourage a normie life of studying and working despite their powers, so Serizawa's problem of finding it extremely difficult to control his powers due to his anxiety feel like a sufficient background for what would push them into a terrorist organisation.

Hina as Soichirou... She's been dead too often in my aus and concepts, Rui usually taking the spotlight, it's time for "oh no it's worse when they Lived". Epic divorce-woman ftw. Rui fulfills Shimazaki's powers of teleportation and knows where Yukina is at all times. She would really like Yukina to just stop trying to convince her mother not to be a terrorist anymore. For plot reasons she'll sometimes help Hina out in her plans if it doesn't negatively interfere w the twins' lives.

Hiei as Takenaka who is distressed abt his sister repeatedly running away to pursue their birth mother who at this point kinda scares him and he's not seen her in years. Also very isolated in being an ESP-kid and having no one else like him to talk to, upset to learn the Telepathy club is a lie. We don't see him for SO MANY episodes and when he returns as the twin brother of the There-are-so-many-things-wrong-with-this-child (Yukina).

Kurama might be part of Claw to help out his mother... Perhaps he is a Serizawa? (Speaking like these are actors for a theatre production) Koenma is the child in claw w the wooden dolls who cries when they get OP-broken.

I love Yusuke btw but I can't stand when a MC from one series is transferred as the MC of a different series for an au simply bc the character is the MC. It's just so automatic. I personally also like to use Mob for drawing studies when deciding how to draw Yukina's expressions and write her thoughts and actions, but it also grates on me to spend more than 10 minutes to just switch all the character roles for the personalities most similar (why not just go watch the original...). This is the hater in me! Sometimes I find her.

#yyh things alternate universes #this is very loosely written I'd like this to b open in case anyone finds this #the dichotomy of “I wanna see more aus of the yhh characters :(” and “I want as little 2 do w the yhh fandom as POSSIBLE only trust mutuals #yyh things #mp100 spoilers #mp100 au

[milkshaketg]

skewbald belgian named Inksplash. palomino cream or smth.

Florence and Tuscany go the realm. feline hall. human was a bitch who “I turned out fine so they should, too.” maybe I make her too sick to be able to tell anything. black cat companion with purple eyes who can see your death.

someone who comes face to face with their killer who through time loop shenanagins it isn’t in the past it’s the current except they’re alive even though they did kill them and the killer is just like nonchalant or at least appears unbothered

like others are in a time loop and she comes back and is like what

another character just disappears and it isn’t mentioned at all until dead girl returns and is like where are they and everyone else is like who

maybe they come back somehow except not alive

au self inset w Joot in JoJo where I’m a lesbian and therefore an outcast and he and I find solidarity in that and whatnot. I yell at him for how he treats his mom.

Dollarpaw as in sand dollar

SSO Vid Ideas:

dive into SSOblr

Autumn “TroyTheBoy” after their fursona Troy

Featherbelle🥦

Nicodemus(Nico)

Griffin

Wolfgang

fear look in her eyes as the sword is about to come down on her, but is saved by someone else last minute. she doesn’t question it. she just runs. she has no idea what happened to that person.

Angela on a throne looking kinda shocked and surprised and anxious and Akuma is at her feet, all seductive n draped over her n shit and just staring at the viewer sure of herself. not smug, though. just confident.

pink haired self insert for FE3H to draw a Ashe, Catherine, fuckin uhh other pretty lady, maybe Sylvain? Felix? anyone tbh. Claude, too. ladies as well ofc.

-traumatized lady, cannot be on the battlefield or she shuts down. mayb a new crest, a special one. bc she’s special :>

-self regenerating from a big battle who lost everyone and everyone was starving then offered herself up to eat and they found out she couldn’t die by mutilation alone, eventually was captured and used as a human shield and then ofc this fucks her up real bad so they erase a ton of memories so now she’s just ditzy lady being studied except gently at the monastery. ig she can’t really work out bc regeneration.

Flayn x Dedue

someone with a pet named Cream Cheese

self insert where I’m broken and Dirk fixes me I’m a cyborg except he’s got complete control now and I become a husk just used by him to accomplish his misguided deeds. robot turns to flesh eventually even the tail n shit.

oh wait fuck he’s gay.

we don’t gotta fuck it can be platonic extremely fantastically toxic codependency

I am a pet.

this again, except I am a lesbian who forms an unhealthy codependent relationship with Sylvain. he’s chasing my friend who I have a massive crush on, so I approach him. he ofc thinks I’m going for him/his crest but is visibly taken aback when I admit I’m in love with my friend and I need him to back off. we chat a bit and become acquainted or whatevs. he does. then after the five years comes back and she’s dead, I’m heartbroken obviously. emphasis on bad disassociation too. and boom, codependence. then he’s basically backed into a corner and forced to marry so he chooses me bc he knows I’m not tryna use him for his crest. I’m literally 90% into girls thank u.

fire emblem + blorbos + desired self inserts

Canary method(if you’re gonna act like a clown I’m gonna treat you like one)

did I fuck up my circadian rhythm in middle school? because this is not a case of bad habits.

no food :(

issues at work bc girl I don’t have peripheral hearing. god I feel so fucking disabled.

Ottalie

Muse

Rush retains the same mass no matter her form, in addition to being albino.

(hey, are you alright?)(pans to me full strawberry outfit + strawberry makeup + accessories)(yeah, why?)

goth in beanie: are you okay?

strawberry: yeah, why?(HEAVY pink blush w white freckles + lashes and whatnot)(holding my stuffies)

goth in beanie: alright,,,

caption: inside you there are two wolves

me, blank expression: listening to a cat get graphically and brutally murdered and remembering how violent my favorite books as a kid were

Skyclan’s Destiny or whatever is literally just skyclan getting slowly slaughtered one by one

dark eyes of ebon

Rose looked up at Silva. She honestly looked kind of pathetic, one of her lashes hanging haphazardly and her lipstick was smudged. She had seen better days, certainly.

She looked from Silva’s hand, to her face, then back to her hand, not even seeming to register her face wasn’t all that visible. Without much hesitation she took her hand. She had no reason to even consider refusing the help. This was a safe town, no one knew who or where she was so no one would be coming for her. If she had articulated these thoughts they would have sent a pang of pain through her, but as luck would have it her brain stayed full of fluff for now.

“Thank you, appreciate it.” She allowed herself to be pulled to her feet, flashing a smile at the girl. “Now… do you happen to know where we are? Of course you do, you must if you’re out here. Could you show me to” she looked down at her unsightly appearance. She didn’t even want to know what her face looked like. “I guess going out isn’t an option, now is it? You know the direction to Fen’s stable? If you could be a gem and take me there.”

Mon: 10-3

Tue: off

Wed: 10-2

Thurs: 5-9

Fri: off

Sat: 3-7

Sun: 10-3

SpectrumSetup-B8

stealthnest127

[eirian]

oc concept ramblings dont look at me

so for the goku black inspired character i wanna make im not worried abt originality too much. so im thinking hes a god who wants to possess a mortal body in order to infiltrate the mortal world(s) and destroy them for "being selfish" or whatever. so instead of swapping bodies with one he completely takes over someone's body so that he still has control over his godly powers even in the mortal body, and he destroys their soul so its completely his own now? i guess?

anyway hes in love with another god who is equally as terrible as he is (not going with the self love aspect of zamasu and black, i cant think of a good way to pull it off lol) and theyre awful together lol. so they go on a quest to just destroy mortals together because theyre terrible gods

meanwhile during this whole thing his body is like, deteriorating. because as a god he doesnt know how to take care of a mortal body. so hes like progressively growing weaker and more frail and he doesnt know why. what happens to him??? i guess we'll see. but he looks terrible LMAO

i also wanna make another hearts inspired oc, maybe to go along with a mojito inspired one as well?? i dont rly vibe with the original ship anymore bc it was kind of my and my ex's ship lol so i wanna make it my own again. so im thinking another god situation but this god pretends to be human to vibe and have fun. he meets a mortal and they hit it off and stuff but the god finds out the mortal has a grudge against gods and hes like oh shit. but he really likes this guy. so they date for a while until it comes out that hes a god and the moral is upset and feels betrayed so they break up but then get back together later because love wins i guess

im wondering if i can like. make an au of this mortal character bc i wanna ship him with another (fused) zamasu inspired oc who i guess would be a fallen god??? in this context??? idk. i dont rly make au versions of ocs, i just make..new ocs that are a little to the left LOL. so i might do that instead i guess. or repurpose one of the ones i already have...hmmm

[rayshippouuchiha]

Hi!

First of all, i hope you're well and are having a good day!

This is going to be a mess bc i have no self control, but also, i am in need of advice. About fanfiction writing etiquette.

Ok, so. I read a fic, that was so good, it immediately bitchslapped my brain into spitting an AU. The thing is, it's heavily inspired by that fic, and i'd like to try and write it and gift it to the author. But, i don't know if i can do that if the fic is heavily inspired by said author's fic! I don't want to write it if they're not okay with it, and look like i'm plagiazising, or however it's written, their fic!

I'd just like to show them how much it made me feel, and hopefully make them happy about it outside of the long ass novel i wrote them in the comments :")

Also, i do not know how to contact them to ask, if it's just not done. The fic is on AO3, so do i ask them in the comments? Is there a way to message someone that i haven't found bc i'm blind??

I am lost.

I have also had another AU idea, it's mostly porn, i'd also like to write it, but i do not know know how to write porn that is not boring, and i'd appreciate advice if someone wants to help a poor, sad, Kakashi simp :")

Anyways! Sorry for the bother! Have a good day! <3

Oh yeah you can absolute just drop a comment on the author's fic explaining and see if they respond back. Or check their fics/profile to see if they have a link posted to another platform like tumblr to find them at and then message them there.

Either way when you write an inspired work you can use the Inspired By option on AO3 to link back to the fic you were inspired by

A good way to work on writing smut skills is to write what you find sexy/attractive. If nothing else you'll enjoy writing it and the finished product.

#RayRambles

[shotosprincess]

BAKUGO SCREAMING AND IZUKU

( ˘ ³˘)♥︎ AAAA HIII TYSM FOR REPLYING TO THE BNHA PLAYLIST THINGY FOR FICS I LOVE YOU MWAHMWAH

anyways aaa bet !! ill do midoriya first if you don’t mind bc im currently in such a soft mood and hajdjj i just love him sm :((

— 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙣 𝙞𝙯𝙪𝙠𝙪 𝙢𝙞𝙙𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙮𝙖’𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙨

inspired by this playlist by nimbus on yt !! pls check them out ansjdjf their playlists r heaven ^^

❝ you never truly understood that about him, the way he continued to put himself through the pain, to push himself, even, past his limits and then some—

plus ultra. and now his arms were all but littered with rough scars of diluted white and blunt tan. ❞

notes ! gender neutral! reader,, best friends to lovers au ,, 2nd person pov

summary: in which your best friend deku shows up at your dorm late at night due to kacchan locking him out. he asks for bandages to stabilize his newly-healed scars, and you ask to kiss them.

genre: fluff !! <33

it went without a doubt that deku had been to recovery girls’ office more times than anyone else at the academy. it hurt, honestly; each time you saw his still-healing figure emerge from the little swing of her door, a sharp pang reverberated starkly through your chest, for though the freshly-scarred over wounds didn’t diminish his beauty in the slightest, you simply couldn’t deny that an empty eddy of sadness settled in you whenever he was in such a state.

and unfortunately for you, he was constantly in it.

his body could only take so much. and he was still so young too—the very same held true for your heart.

it’s been that way ever since the two of you had first entered ua as shining, eager students. though in all fairness you had to admit, he was...different from the very beginning. even as the prelude to his eventual rising and growth in his quirk, he had shone with a certain unmatched brilliance ever since the entrance exams. and over the years you spent together, you had watched him persevere so passionately towards the glow of his ultimate goal; to be a hero who can help others. little did he know just how much he already had. he had always been so excruciatingly oblivious and aloof to even the evidence and affects of his own kindness, and you hated the fact that so many tended to take advantage of it. of him.

though, of course, this did not mean that he was weak in any form. no, if anything he was quite the polar opposite—he had proved it time and time again, and yet it didn’t mean that he couldn’t get hurt too. the dull aching of tiredness ringing in his eyes, the one he tries to desperately to mask, the ragged marks scattered across the pale valleys of his once-scar-barren skin; he wasn’t immune to pain, to injury. and yet, he fought. you never truly understood that about him, the way he continued to put himself through the pain, to push himself, even, past his limits and then some—

plus ultra. and now his arms were all but littered with rough scars of diluted white and blunt tan.

nevertheless, truth be told, you actually admired it a great deal. his sheer determination, the purity of his motives, it was more than laudable. despite all of it, you truly couldn’t help but feel this...magnetic urge to help him. protect him. if you could soothe the pain in any way, even if it would be but a temporary relief—

three knocks clack on the door.

you and izuku’s secret door code—just a silly little something the two of you made up a few months after the dorm system had been put into motion, and all so you could sneak out to the grass-flooded yards of the building and train together.

naturally, you open the door.

“ heyyy there you are! “

your head perks up at the cheery jingling of his voice, all drafts of exhaustion and sleep deprivation washing away almost instantaneously. he might as well be the very personification of caffeine at that point, despite how direly he needed it himself.

the starry shine of his eyes meets with yours as a diluted sanguine seeped colour into his face. he turns his head away awkwardly.

you lean against the doorframe, smiling at him. “ deku...you didn’t tell me we’d be training today. plus it’s a little late right now, don’t you think? i’m already in my pajamas. “

“ yeah, um, sorry about that. kacchan...kinda locked me out. “

“ he what? “

“ he locked me out. “

“ how does that even—don’t you have separate rooms? “

“ well, yeah, but we were racing down the halls after glass today and he...got to my room before i could. well, honestly i have no clue what he’s doing over there. “ he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck.

“ oookay then. little concerning, i won’t lie. “ your shoulders lift in a shrug, arms crossing in front of your chest as your shy laugh matches his.

“ so i was wondering if...you know...i could maybe stay here for a bit? “ his voice wavers subtly, though you’re quick to catch it. the tips of his ears flush with a deepened pink.

you can’t help but silently gush about how cute he looked.

you’re quick to snap out of that too. eyes bursting open with a brilliant shock, you notice he’s fiddling nervously with his fingers as you remain absolutely, positively frozen in place.

“ i’m—what? “

his countenance immediately shifts to one of sheer embarrassment. flustered, he begins to frantically wave his hands in front of him, as if to put some sort of considerable distance between his panicking self and your seemingly-composed demeanour. and as if that would do anything to deescalate the tension which was only progressively building between your equally-timid selves at this moment.

“ ohmygod i didn’t mean it in a weird way or anything! i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’ll just—i’ll just go— “

you slide against the wood a little bit, pushing your weight against the slightly-agape door, so it swung open even further to reveal the, admittedly, fairly-messy state of your room. draped carelessly on the side of your bed, a sweater you had taken off earlier because the temperature of your room had suddenly decided to heat up an unreasonable amount. countable cups holding shallow pools of hour-old drinks scattered throughout nearly every shelf. a creased textbook splayed out, cover up on your desk.

yep. definitely looked like someone’s lived here.

“ i mean...you could come in if you want. no one’s stopping you. it’s a little messy though, i haven’t found much time to properly clean it yet, with exams coming soon and stuff. “ a small smile accompanies your growing blush, despite how much you were trying to play it off as nonchalantly as possible.

psh, right. as if letting him in your room—something you had never done prior in the history of your friendship—wasn’t a big deal in the slightest.

his eyes shoot wide as his arms flail about. you have to keep yourself from laughing at his silliness.

“ uhm, i mean...only if that’s okay with you! “

“ yeah, yeah, of course! you need a place to stay for now, after all. who knows when bakugou’s gonna let you back in? “

“ yeah, i guess you’re right. well, i mean, if you really don’t mind— “

you playfully roll your eyes, giggling as you shove him into your room.

“ oh, quit it with the politeness. you’re too nice, you know that? “

“ too...nice? “

“ too nice. “ you reiterate, giving his shoulders a little squeeze.

his head lolls to the side as he carefully lowers himself onto your bed, his sweater shifting with the subtle movement.

for a few moments, the space between you is occupied with a simple, comfortable silence. it’s refreshing, really. a welcome difference from all the boisterousness of the academy. you loved the action and everyone’s energy, of course, but sometimes what you really needed was really just a simple break from everything. to do nothing but exist for a little while, to simply be without the constant pressure of having to get up and jump into action all the time. just for a few moments. and so you relished in these said moments spent with him, for who knows when the next time you could ever be with him like this again would be?

and then his voice fills that void of silence, but you’re not disappointed in the slightest.

“ hey. “

“ yeah? “

“ you don’t happen to have any extra bandages, do you? “

“ bandages? for what? “

he clenches his fist, flexing the muscles in his arm. “ for...stability. just in case. i can’t afford for my arms to get hurt more. “

“ oh. well, uhm...i think i have a few spares in my drawer! “ you push yourself off the bed, leaving the comfort the soft sheets brought about, pulling open a tiny drawer. taking out a transparent box of bandages, you jump back onto the plushness, sitting cross-legged directly across from midoriya, who’s already presenting his arm.

your lips silently part as your fingers wrap themselves around the thick ivory fabrics of bandage, rolling them around so you could wrap them around him.

another pause of wordless silence falls.

“ hey deku? “

“ yeah? “

“ could i...could i kiss your scars? “ you whisper, afraid that he’d get mad, though you knew he was anything but the type to do such a thing.

the meadow depths of his eyes kindle a cozy hearth within you as his initial surprise quickly softens, melting away into what could only be described as the most endearing smile to exist.

“ sure. “

jagged patches and uneven streaks of faded cloud white and prominent earthy tans decorate his arms, and you can’t help but bring the rosiness of your lips to meet them. you decide begin with the ones littered along his fingers.

one kiss for the scar resting within the curved dip between his thumb and index.

“ for every time you used just a flick of your fingers to defend everyone back then, when you didn’t even have full control over your quirk. “

a longing sigh leaves him as he reminisces briefly on the memory. you place a soft kiss upon the scar resting at the side of his pinky.

“ for every fist you made with this hand, for every punch you’ve delivered in the name of other’s safety. “

a drop splashed onto his arm, trickling down and tainting the scars etched into his forearm with a subtle, diaphanous sheen. you look up through your lashes, and a prominent gloss coats the kindness of his dark emeralds. your hand comes up to carefully caress his cheek, cupping it gently as the pad of your thumb swipes beneath his eye, wiping away the upcoming tear. your features are knitted together in concern.

“ are you okay? i can stop if you want me to— “

he takes your hand in both of his, squeezing as if to keep you there forever. “ no, don’t. please.“

it’s a tiny whisper, a softened plea into the dark quiet of the night, as if he were ashamed for wanting to be taken care of. your brows curve downward as you pull your twined hands to your lips, tenderly planting your lips where your skin kissed his.

“ hey, hey. it’s okay. it’s okay. “ you hush him, running your free hand through his thick tendrils of vivid, verdant green.

he leans into your touch, nodding at you as if to urge you to continue, which you gladly accept.

you shift a little closer to him, kissing the thick mark of serration painted into the skin of his wrist.

“ for every countless moment you’ve sacrificed for your dream. “

another kiss to the one just above it.

“ for every hour bled into the night that you spent helping me train. “

your fingers dance along his arm, finally stopping at the scar stretching from his elbow and dragging upwards. as per routine, your lips come down to delicately kiss it.

“ for every ‘ plus ultra! ‘ you’ve ever passionately shouted. “

little giggles left the both of you at that.

your touch trails to the scar just beside it, kissing it as well.

“ for every life you’ve ever saved. “

you look him in the eye. holding his arm like this, you were so close to him. and yet, you didn’t want to pull away. if anything, it was the very last thing you would ever want to do. he matched your stare, a certain sense of longing displaying in your gaze as it reflects off of his. the prolonged stare lasts longer than it probably should, longer than what best friends should probably look at each other this closely, this intimately for. the moonlight dimly shines through your window.

and then it happens.

his lips collide with yours in a captivating symphony, hands going straight to twirl through the locks of your hair as you wrap yours in a loose loop around his neck. everything feels as though it had all snapped into place, and the tension you had felt before was all completely dissipated now, displaced into the passion in which this kiss exuded. it was earth-shattering, galaxy-shredding. it felt as if even pain itself could never reach either of you, not in this moment.

this moment was for the both of you, and no one else. in this moment, in his arms, nothing and no one could hurt you.

he pulls away, stunned, lips parted with a saturated red. you stare at him with just about the same level of blankness, of utter shock at what you two had just done.

but then the realization catches up with him, and he is pulled out of the daze. much to your surprise, he doesn’t move away. if anything, he pulls you closer, enveloping both your hands within his just as he did before.

and just as you had done earlier, he brings them to his lips.

“ and that’s for every ‘ i love you ‘ i’ve ever wanted to say to you but never had the guts to. “

#bnha writing #bnha fic #bnha x gender neutral reader #bnha fluff #bnha x reader #mha writing #mha fanfiction #mha x reader #mha deku #deku x you #deku x y/n #deku fluff #deku x reader #deku fic #izuku x y/n #midoriya x reader #mha fluff #izuku headcanons #midoriya x you #fluff

[eremiie]

Hello there I really like your writing and I was maybe wondering I can get some angst of a cheating eren who break his s/o heart

yes you can!! i shed a few tears writing this bc i was listening to sad music & thinking, but i hope you enjoy, i am not the best at writing angst😪!

cheers to you - eren x reader

in which eren breaks your heart and you have no choice but to move on.

tw; crying, heartbreak ig idk

2.5k words | angst | modern au

"okay."

you pushed at sasha's phone, you didn't want to see anymore. you were trying to suppress your tears, refusing to cry in front of your two friends.

sasha took one more look at the photos before swiping out of her camera roll, looking back up at you with a frown, hitch likewise. "_____, are you okay?"

and you hated when people asked you that. you thought you were doing fine, you thought you could keep everything down but you simply thought wrong. you croaked out the smallest sound, but before you could even get a word out the tears began to spill, your eyes becoming bleary with the suffocating liquid and the suffocating feeling surrounding your heart. you felt so dumb.

hitch rushed to your side pulling you into a hug until your head fell against her shoulder, body going limp besides the soft heaves that would leave your shuddering body. the pictures of eren were embedded in your head, replaying in your mind, constantly on repeat and you wished to think of anything else that wasn't clawing at your heart like the photos lingering in your subconscious. it was all you could see, almost like a photo album; eren's hands sat on some random girls waist while she straddled him, his jaw slacked open as she ground against him, whoever taking the photo catching her mid grind. his eyes were half lidded if you remembered correctly, reddening, he must've been high.

you couldn't tell if that fact alone hurt you less or more.

your mind swiped, another photo with the same blond haired girl, this time her hands cupping his face and his hands gripping her ass while they engaged in a kiss that you wished was chaste. you were repulsed that your lips had met his in almost the same manner before he left for that party the same night. more sobs left your poor quivering lips, hitch's grip around you tightening as she tried to shush your sobs and cries.

sasha's hands ran over her face as she shook her head clear disappointment evident as she watched you and hitch.

"what did i do wrong?" you gasped for air finally pulling away from hitch, the only body part connecting with hers be your hands that she clasped so delicately as if, if she squeezed too tight you would break. "my heart hurts, it hurts, it hurts," you babbled as tears fell from the bottom of your chin and the bridge of your nose, your eyes were puffy and swollen. "this hurts so bad," you conveyed your emotions through words another gasp leaving your lips.

"you did nothing wrong," hitch reassured rubbing her thumbs against the surface of your hands. "he's just an idiot."

"it's gonna hurt, and that's okay," sasha scooted forward from her position on the floor laying her head in your lap and you knew she was right but god, you didn't want it to hurt. you wanted the pounding in your head to stop, the recurring thoughts to stop, the salty tears streaming down your cheeks to stop, i mean you wanted someone to tell you exactly where you messed up so you could go back and try again.

"do you want us to stay with you tonight?"

you looked down at the side of sasha's face, one of your hands letting go of hitch to comb through brunette hair, and the lazy bun in the back of her head seemed all too familiar already, the way a couple of flyaways framed the front of her face had you covering your mouth, repressing a gag with your palm, sasha whipping her head around to confront the source of the sound, worry on her face, but you squeezed your eyes shut, even the furrow in her brow reminding you all too much of the boy.

"______?" hitch's arms were back around you but you quickly pushed them off feeling the rising feeling of your breakfast you had not too long ago, rushing to the trash can in the corner of your dorm letting your remnants spill from your stomach. the feeling of throwing up felt so foreign to you, you couldn't even remember the last time you did it, and to some degree you wished your heart came up with it.

hitch's mouth parted in the slightest not even sure what to say but the anger behind her eyes was apparent. "baby, i'm so sorry." was all she could say in response while your body crouched beside the trash can, your hands slipping from the rim until they were palm first on the floor, slowing turning into fists.

"i wanna be alone for a couple hours." you managed to utter with a sniff.

"you sure?" sasha asked, standing up awkwardly with hitch reciprocating. you nodded your head and it felt like everything was going in snapshots, them walking to the door, the door opening and their bodies disappearing, your figure laying back in your bed and then the next snapshot didn't come, sleep had came so quick you didn't even have time to process it.

❈ ❈ ❈

your eyes fluttered slightly and you relished in the heat over you for a minute. your mind felt like a clean slate for the time being, as your eyes opened to the bed next to you, sasha's figure vacant from her bed. you remembered asking for some space before you left but you thought she'd had return by now. it was dark, but it couldn't have been too late as orange rays from the sun were attempting to shine through your curtains, making you assume that it was just around seven, the sun setting soon. but you craved the warmness that was around you a little more, pulling down to reach for your blanket, until your body froze.

the hand wrapped around your waist, much like in the photographs engraved in your brain twitched and that same sickness felt like it was resurfacing yet you dared to move, tears brimming again subconsciously.

"eren," you mumbled under your breath.

"hm?" oh, so he was awake.

your face scrunched up in agony at the sound of his voice, your eyebrows coming together, your eyes shutting and you biting your lip so hard the taste of blood collected on your tongue. "please," your breathing began to thicken again, you wanted to move his arm but your body was almost stuck in place. "move."

eren groaned against your back, nose nuzzling into the back of your neck and you mentally cringed. "get out," you said abruptly, body jolting at the sudden movement and you felt him still behind you. how did he even get in? and then you immediately regretted making an spare dorm key and giving it to him only a couple months into your relationship. "get out, get out." you finally regained some self control, your body slithering from under his until your arm touched the floor and you crawled away from your own bed. "go, what are you doing?" you lashed, his gingerly stare making you aware of the tears cascading down your face again.

eren stared back at you finally lifting his head up from the spare pillow that he always slept with when he spent nights with you, the pillow that stayed tucked away on your bed and the same pillow that you'd have to wash and get rid of that stupid recognizable cologne he wore, the same cologne that would linger on most of his clothing that you owned. "_____,"

"no, leave, please leave, i can't do this."

eren seemed genuinely confused, sitting up completely now and scooting forward until his legs dangled off the bed. "baby, what's-"

you winced at the nickname and clutched at your stomach, feeling the emptiness inside from the lack of food, yet you still felt the urge to dispel anything inside of it still. "please leave." you almost felt lightheaded, you felt as if you weren't being heard and you were sick.

the significant sound of the dorm keycard slot beeping until sasha's figure came back in, "_____, i left the key hear but luckily i had a keyca-" her voice slowly died down as she studied the scene of the dorm, your body on the floor away from your bed and eren's figure sat on the same bed, both pair of eyes now looking up at her."

"what the hell?" sasha stormed over to eren grabbing his arm in a feeble attempt to pull him off of your bed. although she wasn't strong enough eren did stand up, mainly because of your pleas for him to get out just earlier. "get out! she doesn't want you here, weirdo!" sasha exclaimed pointing towards the door clear anger flashing in her eyes. "and don't just come in here uninvited again!"

those green eyes that would unknowingly keep you up for nights after today kept that confused gaze on you as he walked around you and made you feel stupid and small. we're you overreacting? were those pictures just your imagination?

"_____..." eren mumbled before looking at your frame on the floor once more.

“get out!” sasha exclaimed.

you weren't sure if he was just that dense or he was hiding the fact that he knew exactly what he did. the door shut and you immediately began crying again, this time harder. wails of pain escaping your throat. your cries were loud and full of pain. you clutched at your shirt as if to grasp at your broken heart.

"oh my gosh." sasha dropped her keycard and bag onto your bed where she still stood and got on the floor with you pulling you as much into her lap as possible. you felt fragile in your hands, her gripping at the sweatshirt around your body. she listened to your cries, responding with "i knows," and "mhm," as if they were telling her a story, simply listening to the aching noises that were leaving you.

"sasha," you finally mustered the courage to speak a few words again, although they resembled your words from yesterday. "i'm hurting."

"i know, i know."

"i loved him." you blinked so you could see a little clearer, lifting your head to look at sasha, bringing your hands to either side of her head, your thumbs stroking her jaw. "i thought he loved me? why? why?"

sasha couldn't bare to look at your sad, damaged eyes and instead pulled you back against her chest. although your sobs died down she could feel the convulsing of your body and opted to hold you for as long as you needed.

“does he even know what he did? does he even know how much pain i’m in right now?”

sasha couldn’t even answer that question. by the looks of it he didn’t, maybe he was high? under the influence? but either way you didn’t have the courage to confront him about it.

instead you spent the next couple of weeks sulking, mending to your broken heart and staying out of eren’s way, no matter how many times he tried to communicate with you. it seemed as if word got to him on what he did, sasha getting connie to talk to him, and as angry as eren got there was no denying what he did, especially with photo evidence.

your phone blew up with his own pleas begging for forgiveness, begging for you to talk to him, to come back, to do something.

but you were fragile, and you knew that even being in his vicinity would tear you apart bit by bit. you didn’t want to weep in front of him, you didn’t want to be in front of him in the first place, nor did you want his pity.

did you want to get back with him? the question still pondered on your mind constantly but both sasha and hitch refused to let you, and they were perfectly fine with the situation going unresolved if it meant better for you.

"so?" hitch pointed the straw of her frappucino at you. "i really think you just need to try exploring your options, just living a little. you can go to the next party with sasha and i, i promise we won't mind."

“hitch i want her to go to a party too but i don’t know about her getting with anyone.” sasha swirled the stick inside her latte to mix it up before sucking the liquid off the end.

now it had been a few months since you had seen eren, a few months since you began to heal yourself slowly compared to those first couple weeks. you had to really thank hitch and sasha for being there most of the way for you, and you had to especially thank netflix and sleep for being two of your greatest distractions.

you never officially broke up with eren, sure you saw him in the hallways (and you were certain he saw you as well) you had a couple lectures with him where the two of you would sneak glances at each other; which kind of reminded you of when the two of you first began liking the other. he never made an effort to speak to you after the first couple weeks when he would text your phone constantly, as much as it seemed like he wanted to still.

"i don't know hitch. i haven't even got rid of his stuff yet. they're still sitting in that stupid box in the corner of me and sasha's dorm." sasha nodded in confirmation taking a bite of her biscuit.

"but i don't think that box should stop you from getting out the house again. you haven't really been anywhere besides maybe target with sasha. plus i miss seeing you!"

you rolled your eyes with a slight chuckle. "you see me at least three times, especially when... you know, you came like everyday at first."

hitch shrugged her shoulders and then took another sip of her drink. "but do you think i can start seeing you more is the question? c'mon this is the first step towards a new life without that bastard."

you pondered on the thought before a small sigh escaped your lips, and you slowly nodded your head.

"really?" hitch exclaimed, her hands reaching across the table to grab yours. "you mean you won't mind coming to the party this saturday?"

you narrowed your eyes at hitch. "this was your plan wasn't it?"

"yes, yes it was. but there's no backing out now."

"yes, hitch, i'll come to the party this saturday." you decided that maybe this would help your healing heart in the least and you would try to push aside the boy that broke it for the couple hours just to spend time with your friends. but you couldn't help and wonder, "what if i bump into him at the party? or he tries to talk to me?"

sasha looked at hitch and hitch looked back before both turning their eyes to you. "we can be with you the whole time if that's the case."

"i wouldn't want to ruin your fun."

"babe, hanging out with you is one of the points of bringing you, ____." sasha smiled.

you internally twitched at the mention of the nickname ‘babe’ but neither one of your friends seemed to tell. you were getting better with reacting to things that reminded you of him, and you didn’t hysterically start crying at the slightest mention or object that related to him.

"we got you, okay?"

you frowned slightly but gave sasha a smile back and squeezed hitch's hand in the slightest. "yeah, okay."

this was the beginning of a new life for you, you wouldn’t spend your days sulking after him anymore. cheers to you and your first big step forward.

#eren jaeger x reader #eren x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger #attack on titan #eren angst #eren aot

[stutterfly]

Failure to Communicate

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

{Pairing} Park Jimin/ Reader

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

{Rating} Mature - Explicit 

{Word Count} 21K

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I- uhh..." You panic.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah?"

"Jimin is a fool," he tells you.

"What?"

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

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

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

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

"My car?"

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

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

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

"You like hamburgers?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Please do."

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

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

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

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

Damn, do you ever.

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

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

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

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

"I like you," you blurt out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[NEW MESSAGE] Tae: hungry?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” you answer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Forgettable.

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

"It's vanilla." You shrug.

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

"No, I like vanilla."

"Figures," he teases.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, uh. Urban studies."

"Interesting."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Little kids?"

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

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

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

"A lot younger?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can we talk?”

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

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

“I feel like I owe you an explanation.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait!”

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

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

“Aren’t you tired?” he wonders.

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

Your yawn says otherwise.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Won’t you miss your family?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight y/n.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Memes?” he repeats, sounding baffled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook takes his armload of cup noodles into his bedroom.

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

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

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

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

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

“Bro.”

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

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

Taehyung grimaces. “How’d that go?”

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

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

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

“Jimin—”

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

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

“No,” Jimin sighs. “But what if?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are they the beige ones?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m gonna throw up,” he squeaks out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I think... I'm drunk," you confess, unable to explain why you suddenly feel like crying.

"I think you're right, baby," he agrees, squatting down to unbuckle the ankle straps on your heels. "Let's get you some water."

Your stomach flips again and time slows as you feel the contents of the evening rise in the back of your throat. Panicking, you look to Jimin with wide eyes and a hand flying up to your mouth. He spins around looking for anything to catch what's surely coming and upends your little trash can. Candy wrappers and old class notes fall to the floor. He thrusts the can under your face just as a rainbow of Jello shots and reappears.

"I'm so sorry," you cry between heaves, tears streaking your make-up down your face.

"Shhh," Jimin soothes, gathering your hair away from your face. When he's sure you've finished, he disappears from the bedroom with the offending trash can and you're left with your horrible, alcohol twisted thoughts.

He's going to think you're pathetic and disgusting. Why on earth did you think you could drink that much?

Jimin returns with a glass of water before you can get much further into your self-deprecation.

"You're never gonna fuck me now," you blabber, your filter lost. Your thoughts are a jumble of sadness and muddled lust.

Jimin laughs. "Well, I'm definitely not gonna fuck you like this. I didn't realize you were this drunk," he softly says. It's a caring statement, not even a little bit condescending.

You should be grateful that he wants you sober for sex, but it only makes you cry harder because you really just want him so badly and you're absolutely certain you've ruined your chances beyond repair. So, you do the only thing that makes sense right now and cry harder.

Jimin wraps his arms around you and leans close to your ear. "I want to, you know. I want to lay you down and touch you all over." He presses a soft kiss to the side of your neck. "I want to taste you, feel you. I want to be inside you so badly, but not like this."

"Please," you whine.

"Sober up first, okay?" he coaxes. "Can I help you get some pajamas? Brush your teeth?"

"Okay," you sniffle.

Jimin smooths his hand up your back, tracing the black lace band of your bra with the tip of his finger. “Do you want to take this off?”

You nod, reaching behind you to unfasten the clasp while Jimin reaches down to the floor for the button down shirt he discarded. He averts his eyes while you shed your bra, then holds his shirt open for you. You slip into it but don’t bother to button it up before walking to your door. He helps you get to the bathroom but you insist on doing it yourself so you can clean up and assess just how fucked up you really look right now.

When you close the door behind you, he makes sure to quietly apologize to Yoongi, who is still scrubbing the trash bin Jimin brought out earlier. Yoongi reaches into the cabinet for the bottle of Advil and gestures to a glass of water already on the counter.

Jimin waits for you to open the door and when you finally do he's relieved that you haven't fallen asleep. You've washed the makeup from your tear-streaked face and brushed your teeth. You've even pulled your hair back so it's no longer in the way. You look at him through a hazy apologetic lens as he offers you Advil and water. The last thing you want to do is ingest anything but if it will help you in the morning, you'll try it for his sake.

The journey from the bathroom back into your room is a blur. All you can think about is crawling back into bed and sleeping this awful feeling away. You struggle with the covers for a moment until Jimin helps you slide underneath them.

"I'm sorry. Don't hate me," you plead in a weak voice.

"Why are you sorry? I don't hate you," he assures you, sitting on the edge of the bed.

He's shirtless. He could have been naked pounding your pussy stupid if you didn't overdo it on the drinks. You hate yourself a little bit for botching this chance, but if he could just put his arms around you again maybe you’d feel okay, like you didn’t blow it.

"Will you hold me?" you ask.

“Of course,” he replies softly.

The light in the room disappears and the mattress sinks behind you. His arms wrap themselves around your waist and his fingers twine with yours.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers when you squeeze his hand.

The heat of his breath brushes against your neck but you don’t close your eyes. You’re too dizzy. Instead you focus on the soothing rhythm of his breathing until the weight of your eyelids wins out against the nausea and sleep finally claims you.

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

Your ringtone wakes you late, when the sun in your room is far too bright to be any time before ten. The sound is grating and irritating and you pull your pillow over your head to block it out. Jimin reaches for the phone, you can feel his weight shift and the heat of his skin when he hovers over you.

"Hello?" His voice is gruff and coarse with sleep.

Peeking out from beneath the pillow, you look over to him. His eyes are still closed and your phone is laying on his bare chest, speaker on and screen lit up.

"Gimme your bae," Jungkook's voice calls through the phone.

"She's sleeping," Jimin tells him. Looking in your direction, he meets your eyes and smiles.

You vaguely remember him making you drink more water last night, giving you Advil, and tucking you in. It's a very pleasant surprise to find that you aren’t horribly hungover.

"Wake her up," Jungkook whines. "Bro. She hit me so hard."

Jimin laughs. "You deserved it."

"I know," Jungkook agrees. "That's why I'm calling. Can I talk to her please?"

"You're on speaker."

"Hi, y/n. I got your number from Tae."

"Hi Kook," you croak.

"I'm sorry I was a douche last night. I get stupid when I drink whiskey."

"I accept your apology. Don’t do it again. How's your dick?" you ask, scooting closer to Jimin and laying your cheek on his chest. He wraps his arm around you and kisses the top of your head. The gesture makes you feel warm all over. He likes you.

"It hurts but I'll live. Sorry. For real. Do you guys wanna go eat later?" he asks you both.

Jimin answers this time. "Maybe. We have stuff to do first. I'll text you." He hangs up before Jungkook can say more.

“What stuff are we doing, hmm?” you question with a giggle, trying to play coy.

“Depends how you’re feeling, princess,” Jimin replies, leaning over you again to deposit your phone on your nightstand. He lingers above you, prompting the cautious exploration of your fingers on his chest.

Suddenly, you are acutely aware of the awful taste in your mouth. In fact, you feel gross all over. Not exactly the way you want to experience sex with Jimin for the first time.

“I’m sorry about last night,” you tell him, wiggling out from under his body. “You must think I am the worst, most unattractive human.”

“No,” Jimin says with a giggle. “I think you’re sexy and sweet. I really like you y/n.”

“Nobody likes me.” You scoff at him in disbelief.

“It’s rude to call people nobodies, don’t you think? Especially when they’ve just confessed their feelings,” Jimin teases, sitting up beside you.

“Well, let me at least brush my teeth,” you tell him, holding his shirt closed around you while you rise from the bed. You step around the clean trash can that’s been placed at the side of your bed thanks to Yoongi, noting that there is also a neat row of condoms on your nightstand and a note that reads ‘be done by 5 i wanna watch Dragonball Z after work.’

You laugh and quickly take care of your morning bathroom routine in record time so you can make use of Yoongi’s gift.

When you come back to your room, Jimin is watching you. His lips are drawn down in a pout, his eyes are half closed, and his chest, still bare, rises and falls heavily with each breath he takes as he rakes his eyes over your bare legs and up. His shirt hangs open on your body, leaving a strip of skin visible from your throat to your panties. He licks his lips when your fingers drag a slow line up that strip.

Parting the soft fabric further, you let it fall from your shoulders and pool around your feet. Jimin sits up for a better view and you wait for embarrassment to strike. It never happens. Instead, his gaze emboldens you. He looks wrecked already and he hasn't even touched you yet.

“So beautiful,” he whispers.

His assurance pulls you forward, one foot in front of the other until you’re close enough to touch and his hands are on your hips as you climb over him. He leans back under you as you push forward, connecting your lips with a force that borders on overeager. You can feel him smile against your lips and self-consciously, you will yourself to calm down. You have all day, there’s no need to rush.

When your kisses become soft and patient Jimin decides to take the initiative. He has to have you. He wants to be inside you. He sits up and sinks his hands into the flesh of your ass and begins to pull you down so he can grind up against your clothed cunt. When you moan his eyes roll back for a second and he buries his face into your neck to muffle the sound of his own. His tongue works in circles against you, giving you a taste of what’s to come before sucking a spot that has you burying your hand in his hair and grinding yourself down on him with need. He licks a hot stripe to your ear so he can whisper in it. In an instant he’s flipping you around on your back and grinding his pelvis against yours, allowing the dark desire to consume him.

“You like that, princess? You like feeling my cock on that sweet pussy of yours?”

“Yeah,” you whine, circling your legs around his hips. You can’t manage much more than that breathy reply, he is intoxicating and already you are drunk on his fumes.

“I hear it’s the sweetest. Made me so fucking jealous to hear Tae talk about you like that. You’ll let me have a taste, won’t you? Let me show you how good I can make you feel?”

“God did Tae just go around telling everyone?” you pause when the friction rubs against your clit just right. “Oh fuck,” you moan, imaging the pillowy soft press of his lips on your more intimate areas.

He chuckles in response. “No,” he assures you. “Just Jungkook and me. Don’t worry,” he says, persuading you with a careful roll of his hips that has his shaft parting your folds despite the layers of clothing between you. “He won’t talk about it anymore, and you’ll forget all about it by the time we’re done here. I’m gonna eat your sweet little cunt until mine are the only lips you remember.”

“Please,” you whimper, drawing him into a needy kiss.

His fingers dip into the band of your panties and he teases and tugs at them until you’re squirming and begging him to take them off. His lips trail wet kisses down to your breasts and he pauses to take your nipple into his mouth as he carefully works your last remaining piece of clothing down your legs.

Nudging your legs apart again, he settles between them, ghosting the pads of his fingers up the inside of your thigh as he drags your nipple gently with his teeth. He switches to repeat the action on the other side and cautiously slips a finger between your folds, parting them and testing your wetness. Much to his delight, he already finds you soaked.

“Jimin,” you breathe out. “Please.”

“Be patient for me, princess. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.” He sits back on his knees between your thighs and uses his thumbs to smear your arousal over your lips. He groans something deep and tortured when he spreads them open.

“Y/n, holy fuck,” he whispers. “You’re perfect. So perfect.”

Heat rises to your cheeks at his praise. It feels like some kind of worship the way he looks down at your cunt, watching his fingers disappear inside you. His satisfied hum is like a hymn to the divine way your hot, slick walls squeeze him, a prayer to the mere idea of having that wet heat wrapped around his needy cock.

“Tae didn’t tell me you were so tight,” Jimin admits, looking up at you under his eyelashes.

“He only used his mouth,” you tell him, throwing your arm over your eyes. “I’ll never forget his lips if you keep talking about him.”

That seems to spark a fire in Jimin. His eyes grow dark and wild. He wants to ruin you. He presses his lips to the inside of your thigh and begins sucking marks into the soft flesh while his fingers continue to pump inside of you. He slowly works his way down, making sure the red spots he leaves behind are sufficient enough to last for days. He makes sure you’ll have the reminder of his face between your legs every time you look down.

“Jimin don’t tease,” you beg, bucking your hips up to seek the warmth of his breath.

“I’m not teasing,” he chides. “I am savoring.” He curls his fingers and presses his thumb to your clit, making your legs jolt. “Trust the process.”

“Jimin--,” you start again, but you’re cut off by the first touch of his lips. It’s barely there, just the ghost of a kiss on your mound. It’s immediately followed by the flat of his tongue, pressing down as he moves it lower, slipping his fingers out as he descends. His tongue parts your folds instead, circling your dripping hole and then dipping inside it.

“Mmmmm,” he hums. “Fuck, you’re sweet.” He spreads you with his thumbs again and goes back for more, lapping at your wet cunt, swirling around your clit, sucking your folds into his lips. But it’s not just the action, it’s the drive behind it. He’s insatiable, moaning at the taste, bucking his hips into the mattress when you whine for him.

Your fingers tangle through his silver hair, twisting and pulling as he devotes himself to your undoing. He moves with you when you grind up against his jaw, stealing a glance up at your face. Jimin feels his cock twitch at the sight of you; breasts heaving, mouth hanging open, eyes squeezed shut. He’s leaking so much precum he can feel it soaking through his boxer-briefs. He’s almost afraid he’s going to lose it and cum in his pants.

“You gonna cum for me, princess?” he asks, lifting his face to push his fingers back inside. He pumps them hard, curling and searching for that elusive spot while he presses soft kisses to your clit. He alternates between flicking his tongue and rubbing against it with his lips, pausing every few seconds to whisper encouragements with warm breath puffed over your swollen bud.

“Come on, baby. Do it for me. Cum for me, princess. Let me taste it.”

“Please Jimin. Pleeeeease. I need you to suck it. Suck it harder,” you beg. “Right there. There! Don’t stop! Please! I’m so close.”

Jimin keeps steady for you despite your trembling thighs. He pounds your g-spot while he sucks as hard as you can take. Your mind goes totally blank, consumed by an orgasm so powerful you can see fireworks bursting behind your eyelids. Heat spreads from your core down your legs, up your spine.

“I’m cu— cumming— Jimiiiiin!” you cry, legs trapping his head like a vice. Your fingers leave his hair in favor of squeezing at your breasts as you ride out your orgasm. You buck your hips when he doesn’t let up after you’ve come down from your high.

“Take your pants off,” you pant, shoving at his head.

He finally pops off with a grin, his chin and lips covered in your slick.

“What if I’m not finished down here?” he teases, dipping his head back down to lick a stripe up your slit. Your whole body jumps when he touches your clit with the tip of his tongue. “Oh?” he feigns shock. “Sensitive?” he smugly asks, going back for one more taste.

“I wanna suck your cock,” you tell him, lazily pulling your legs up and turning your body away from him. You keep your eyes on him as you turn just enough to hang your head off the edge of the bed.

“Are you for real right now?” he asks, standing slowly. The tent in his pants is obscene.

“Please, Jimin. Just a little bit?”

“You’re gonna fucking kill me,” he sighs, tugging the zipper down on his jeans and letting them and his underwear fall to his ankles. He kicks them off and steps in front of you, smiling down at your upside down face, a little dumbfounded to have you wanting and willing to have him like this.

Your mouth waters at the sight of the swollen mauve tip standing at attention. He’s rock hard and so thick you’re not sure you can take him in your mouth, or your cunt for that matter. You’re glad he warmed you up with his fingers because you’re already clenching tight at the thought of that thick cock splitting you in two.

He reaches for the row of condoms as you take him in your hand and give him a few pumps. Just as he rips off one of the packets, you guide him towards the entrance of your mouth. You swirl your tongue against the tip and he drops everything, focusing on the way you tease him instead.

He inhales sharply. “Fuck. Who’s the tease now?”

You run your tongue along his shaft and smile when you get to the tip, giving it a quick kiss. “I’m savoring. What happened to trusting the process?”

He drags his lip through his teeth and clenches his jaw as you put his patience to the test but lucky for him you’re kind. He doesn’t have to wait long. You close your lips around him a moment later, reaching around his hips to guide him deeper, controlling the depth of his thrusts until he learns your limits and leans over you. With his hands on your breasts he rolls his hips. He can feel the tip of his cock bumping the back of your throat. He moans when you gag around him.

“That’s it, princess. Suck it. Just like that,” he praises.

Jimin is careful with his pace, and tender with his touch when he twists your nipples. He thinks he’s in control. He thinks he can take this just fine, despite the fact that your mouth feels fucking incredible. It’s when he watches you part your thighs and slip your hand between them to finger yourself while he fucks your mouth that he realizes he’s got none of the control he was so certain of. His balls tighten and he pulls out quickly and squeezes them, pinching at the tip of his cock and leaving you gasping for the breath you couldn’t catch with him in your mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. I need a second,” he huffs, eyes closed, standing perfectly still. He breathes slowly and deeply. If you could peek into his brain you’re sure you’d see any number of boring things trying to distract him from the image of you fucking yourself with your fingers while you sucked his cock. It’s futile. He’s certain he’ll see it in his dreams.

“Did I do something wrong?” you wonder, shuffling around so that you’re laying back on your pillows.

Jimin ignores your question. He knows you’re well aware he almost came in your mouth. “I need to be inside you like, now,” he says, picking up the condom again.

You watch him tear it open and roll it on with his one knee pressed into the mattress and his other foot on the floor.

"Come on then," you coax, opening your legs for him to crawl between.

He pushes two fingers inside you on his way up, dragging them out slowly and smearing your wetness around your pussy before he lines his cock up and sinks in to the hilt in one smooth press.

You gasp as he fills you, feeling the stretch of his girth, and he hushes your whimpering and brushes his nose against yours. "I'm sorry baby," he soothes. "I'll go slow." He seals the promise with a kiss before hiking your legs up high around his waist and wrapping his arms around you.

He lies still like this, waiting for the green light while he kisses you breathless. He moves to your neck when you break away to inhale, sucking more little bruises in the skin there. "Tell me when."

"Move," you moan. "Move. Fuck me."

Jimin pulls out slowly, leaving just the tip inside. He pushes back in just as slow, repeating the action several times until it looks like you're about to cry.

You need it so badly. It feels cruel to have him rocking so gently inside you when all you want is to be ruined by him. "Harder," you plead.

"Are you sure?"

"Don't make me beg," you whine.

"What if I want you to beg?" he jokes, dropping his hips against you. It's almost hard enough to satisfy you.

"Then I'll beg."

Jimin groans, dropping his head to your shoulder as he sets a brutal pace. He pounds into you, forcing the air from your lungs with his powerful thrusts, rolling his hips like his life depends on it. "You're so fucking good for me, princess. So tight. Feels so fucking good."

"Go faster," you tell him, grabbing a handful of his ass.

Shifting higher on his knees, he picks up the pace. Sweat beads on his forehead and over his lip. It beads in the dip of his cupid's bow and you lick it away before raking his bottom lip through your teeth.

“You feel my fat cock baby?" he asks. You moan in response pulling your legs higher so he can fuck you even deeper. "You like the way I fill you, don't you? Want me to fuck you full of my cum? Take it," he grunts. "You take it so fucking well. You gonna cum for me again, baby?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, rocking your hips to meet his thrusts.

Jimin pulls out when you start to clench, not quite edging you but stealing the pleasure you were high on nonetheless. You whine at the loss of him, walls fluttering wildly around nothing.

"Can we try something?" he asks, lifting your legs and putting them to the side.

"What did you have in mind?" you wonder. You reach for his cock but he's already moving, nudging at your hips until you turn.

"Up on your knees for me, princess," he instructs. He kneels behind you once you're in position and smooths his hand up your spine, guiding you gently down onto your elbows. “Is this okay?”

“It’s good,” you assure him, wiggling your hips a little to get him moving again.

He teases your slit with the tip of his cock, dragging it through your folds and rubbing it against your clit. Finally, he pushes back inside you, coaxing a fresh wave of arousal with the stretch of his girth. It’s deeper like this and impossibly you feel even more full than you did before.

“Oh, Jimin,” you sigh, dropping your face into your folded arms. “Jimin.”

“Good?” He folds himself over you, pressing his chest to your back and sliding his hands from your hips to your breasts.

You thrust yourself back into him as you answer. “Perfect. You?”

It takes him by surprise but he follows your lead. He drives himself into your cunt while massaging your breasts and kissing your back. “Fuck, y/n…” he moans, letting his teeth drag over your shoulder before he bites down.

You hiss at the sting and he soothes it with his tongue and puckered lips.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous taking my cock like this. Feel how deep I am. You’re squeezing me so tight, baby.”

“Jimin? Jimin, I need—,” you gasp out between thrusts.

“What, princess? What do you need?” he questions, releasing a breast to play with your clit instead. “Want me to pull your hair? Want me to fill you with my cum?”

“I wanna ride you.”

“Oh, fuck.” Jimin pulls back immediately.

He lays down beside you and grabs at your waist, guiding you over his cock and holding on tight as you drop your weight and take him completely. Swiveling your hips, you set a pace slow and steady. Jimin’s thumbs rubs soft circles into your skin as you move.

“Go faster,” he urges, unable to keep his hips from rising to meet yours.

You shake your head ‘no’ and continue with your slow rolling pace.

“Please, y/n. Ride it like you wanna cum with me.”

Smirking devilishly, you slow down even more and lean over him with your hands on either side of his head.

He looks down, watching your breasts sway and the way his cock disappears over and over.

“Fuck, y/n. PLEASE,” he whines, roughly grabbing your hips and pounding up into you.

Your startled laugh quickly turns into desperate cries of his name. His cock hits your g-spot directly. It feels so good you don’t even think you need him to touch your clit to make you cum. But he does. He pinches your bud between his fingers while he slams into you, growling and moaning and begging you to cum with him.

“I’m close,” he grunts, licking his fingers and rubbing furiously at your clit.

“Me too,” you whine. “I’m gonna—”

You don’t have time to finish the thought as he takes you over the edge with him. He slams his head back against the pillows as he pumps his hips and cums to the wild pulsing of your orgasm. Your cunt milks every last drop from him and you cry his name, clutching his wrists and letting your head fall back so you can wail your pleasure at the ceiling.

Jimin gasps, picking up his head to look down at how your pussy spreads open around him. Your slick cum coats the condom and his mouth waters, remembering the sweet tang of your taste. You’ve barely stopped grinding on him when he sits up to push you down on your back.

Pulling out, he kneels beside the bed and pulls you to the edge by your legs so he can gently lick you clean. He exhales a hot and heavy breath, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before standing up to peel the loaded condom off his softening cock.

“That was… wow,” you pant, staring up at the ceiling for a moment as you try to regain your breath.

He’s already back at your side, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you towards his chest.

“Yeah,” he agrees while softly combing his fingers through your hair. He’s tired.

You smile against his sweaty chest and plant a soft salty kiss against him. Through the corner of your eye you see the row of untouched condoms on your nightstand. “We’ve got a lot left. Wanna go again?”

He hums a deep throaty sound and laughs when your hand falls to his limp cock. “I want to, but I need a bit to recharge. I can make you cum again while we wait. Do you want that, baby?”

“I always want that. But you don’t have to.”

The groan in his throat sounds croaky as he leans in to kiss your forehead. “I want to.”

He reaches down to wedge his fingers between your thighs and your whole body jumps at the sensitive sensation. How dare your body betray you in this moment?

“Seems like you might need time to recharge too,” he teases while nuzzling against the top of your head and squeezing you in a warm embrace against him. “I’m okay with just laying here and holding you.”

“Yeah?” You smile and cross your leg over his to get more comfortable. “Mmm. You can always help me study for the next test while you’re here.”

Laughter bubbles from his throat. “Are you trying to seduce me for answers to the exam? You know I don’t grade them, right.”

You roll your eyes and scoff, barely containing your giggles as you look up at him. “I don’t think I need to seduce anyone for answers. My head feels a little clearer now.”

“Oh? Why’s that?” he prods while playfully ghosting his fingers down your side.

“Because I know I can be distracted outside of class now instead. I mean, if you wanna keep doing this,” you explain while nervously drumming your fingertips on his chest. “I know I’m not anything special, but—”

Jimin lifts your chin and pulls you into a deep kiss. “You are,” he whispers when he pulls away.

You lick your lips and blink a few times. “I was gonna say you make me feel like I am the most special vanilla ice cream cone on the planet.”

His shy, warm smile fills your stomach with butterflies even as he makes his joke. “Want me to lick you up?”

“And so much more.”

It’s a weighted confession. You sit up to look at him so he knows this. He purses his lips and casts his away. He was avoiding this conversation.

“I don’t know how much more I can give you. I want to be what you deserve, but things are so hard right now. I don’t know that I can be someone who’s good enough for you. You deserve to be showered in gifts and taken on dates. You deserve to be given flowers every day. I don’t even have a car to take you somewhere for a vacation. I’m not sure I can be what you want.”

“Just be yourself,” you state plainly, cupping your hand around his jaw. “That’s what I want. So far I like the person I see. I like you, the real you.”

“I like you too,” he blurts, eyes snapping back to meet yours. “But I can’t afford—”

You press a finger to his lips. “I don’t need expensive dates or fancy gifts. I don’t need you to take care of me— well, last night was the exception and you didn’t need money for that. I just want you to be with me. Talk with me. Spend time with me. Maybe have lots of sex? I don’t know, we can figure out the rest later.” You laugh, embarrassed by your own boldness.

“You see everything that I am and you still want me.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re amazing. Now I know for sure you’re too good for me. But,” he pauses and slips his hands into yours, “I want to keep seeing you. I like talking to you and the more time I spend with you, the more certain I feel about the choices I’ve made. No one’s ever made me feel so free. I want to hold onto that feeling. I want to hold onto you.”

You tell yourself not to cry as you straddle his waist and hover above his lips. “I’m yours then. Are you mine?”

He catches your lips between his and buries his hands in your hair. “I’m yours.”

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