#but he was channeling his inner frat boy with that look

[askbensolo]

Ben, did you ever eat bugs when you were younger? Y'know like you were channeling your inner Anakin

Yes. Yes I did. As well as other things. Truly wonderful, the mind of a child is. I don’t know why I did that, but hey, the heart wants what it wants…

Oh my gosh. Dude. Wanna hear a college story? ‘Cause I ate a live bug in college. In fact, I ate five of them.

I’ll set the scene. Good ol’ UNaboo. Junior year. My first year, actually, since I transferred in. A fall semester party. The Osk Trill Osk frat house. Enter Ben Solo, twenty years old, tall but scrawny, still in his ugly sweater era, dragged into the tableau by a twenty-one-year-old Treeso Wonga, his new friend from NHS 101: Introduction to Nonhuman Studies.

“I don’t think my mom would want me here,” Ben says, fear in his eyes, a college junior with a freshman soul. “Is it like in the holofilms? Are people gonna be, like…doing stuff?”

“Relax, Solo,” says Treeso, pushing him forward with a solid hand to the back. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. We’re here to have fun!”

Osk Trill Osk is a co-ed, mostly-Gungan fraternity. Ben, at this time, has mostly only ever interacted with humans and near-human species, and even those he has barely interacted with. We’re looking at a guy who was homeschooled from age five, practically lived in his bedroom till nineteen, and can count all the friends he’s ever had on one hand. And now he’s standing awkwardly in the middle of a loud and crowded room with a bunch of eighteen-to-twenty-two-year-olds, but he feels like he’s twelve.

The others are friendly enough. They offer him drinks and they offer him things that aren’t drinks and one girl who’s maybe already had a bit too much to drink thinks he’s cute and offers him something else. But the looming threat of Leia Organa-Solo hovers over the boy, along with his own anxious inhibitions and fairly cautious nature, and he declines them all.

“I’m, uh, not twenty-one yet,” he says, naively thinking the excuse is watertight, but a rousing chorus of “neither are we!” shatters the illusion at once.

“I mean, I like following rules,” he says instead, with eyes so big you could read the humiliation in them from a lightyear away—but no one else in the room is in a state to be that observant. Nor are they in a state to spend even one of the brain cells they’re all trying to kill off on thinking about what a loser Ben is. But Ben, however, now has many brain cells that have devoted themselves entirely to this purpose, and he spends the next hour stressed-out and sober, thinking about what a loser he is, and how he can prove he’s not.

Enter the blue slug-beetles, which someone suddenly brings in a crate of, much in the same way one would bring in a six-pack of beer. There is a series of cheers from the Gungans in the room.

The slug-beetle is a bright blue insect about the size of the palm of your hand, and has the curious distinction of being native to both Naboo and Tatooine, with the ability to thrive in both wetland and desert. On Naboo, they are found in the eastern swamps, crawling in the mud amidst the roots of the pelote trees. They are a Gungan delicacy, and Gungans, with their strong teeth and long tongues, are well-suited to cracking the beetles’ hard shells and slurping up the juices. Treeso and several other Gungans begin to do so immediately, while some of the non-Gungan guests look on, some with fascination, some with disgust.

Ben Solo is not a Gungan. He is, however, an absolute freaking idiot. Through some insane inspiration, he decides that he is going to prove how cool he is by being the first human to eat a blue slug-beetle. He puts his hand in the crate.

It’s alive, first of all. These slug-beetles have been prepped for consumption by the removal of their wings, the stubs of which are clipped off in straight lines and flitter nervously as the beetles struggle vainly to survive another day. But even without flight, Ben’s beetle squirms in his hands, its several legs tickling his palms as he tries to prevent its escape.

This moron, frantic not to embarrass himself by having to chase a slug-beetle around the room, finally gives up on figuring out how to eat it. He settles for slapping his palm against his mouth, throwing back the beetle like a handful of pills. The legs tickle his tongue instead of his hands. In a panic, he champs down on it to end its life, and swallows it, the hard fragments of shell scraping the insides of his throat on the way down.

And guess what? Nobody freaking saw.

Damn.

So then. Of course. What other conclusion is there? He has to do it again. Reluctantly, he reaches once more into the crate of crawling beetles.

Mind you, this buffoon is fully sober. He has nothing and no one to blame for his stupid decisions. He’s just…like that.

He picks up the second bug. Probably, he should have stopped and waved and said something like, “Hey, guys, watch me eat this bug!” (though in retrospect, I’m kind of glad he didn’t), but this dude had pretty bad social anxiety at the time, and such a prospect was unthinkable.

So…Ben Solo eats his second slug-beetle. And again. Nobody freaking sees him do it. Although it does go down a little smoother.

Well. Now he’s committed to the bit. Committed enough to grab a t-h-i-r-d slug-beetle, but for some reason not committed enough to say “hey guys watch me eat this bug” because that would involve calling attention to himself, which is exactly what he’s attempting to do, except no, he doesn’t want to make himself noticed, he just wants to be noticed.

Third slug-beetle goes down—similarly unseen. It’s looking like Ben prayed too hard at the beginning of the party for people not to look at him, because, yeah, that’s exactly what’s happening right now. Sure, he could just call it there and shrug it off and laugh at himself for eating three slug-beetles for nothing, but…you know? The sunk-cost fallacy is one hell of a drug.

He’s getting the hang of it. Down goes the fourth beetle. One of the Gungans looks at the crate and goes, hey, where’d all the beetles go? They went fast, huh? And Ben Solo’s like, oh, someone’s looking, now’s my chance. He grabs the fifth bug and puts it in his mouth and imagines the sweet, sweet taste of notoriety.

Well, he was getting the hang of it. But at this point, this stupid neophyte college boy is sweaty and dehydrated and has nothing in his stomach but hydrochloric acid and five blue slug-beetles and a bunch of social anxiety and his body decides, yeah, okay, show’s over, we’re done here. Pack it up, boys.

So, everyone’s watching when Ben Solo slaps his hands over his mouth and stumbles over to a conveniently-placed garbage can and keels over and…you know, un-eats all the bugs.

“Yooo, I thought you said you weren’t gonna drink!” says Treeso, pulling back my hair while I freaking die, and someone else says they can see why I don’t drink, since we’ve only been there an hour and I’m already losing my guts. And from that point on everyone thinks I’m just, like, the worst lightweight ever.

And? To this day? No one will kriffing believe me that I ate five bugs. Like…seriously?? If I was gonna lie about myself for clout, you really think that that’s what I’d be going with?? Ben Solo, the bug-eater???

Anyway…yeah. I present myself before you. Ben Solo, eater of bugs.

[whenimaunicorn]

Playing House - Part 12

“I got the high score on your game, and now, I’m going to get the high score on your girl.”

Hvitserk x f!Reader, Ubbe x f!Reader Words: 6336

It’s here, the frat bro pornfest! No new warnings for this installment, we’ve got the standard rough sex, D/s dynamics, and gratuitous use of “dude” and “bro.” Also the disaster above the text is what you get when I make my own covers.

Catch up:  1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17

“Like,” you furrow your brow, trying to catch up, “with a stopwatch?”

“Yeah,” Ubbe answers. “You squeeze me when you’re starting to come, and I’ll hit the button. Then I turn it off when you can breathe again.”

You lick your lips. “And whoever can give me the longest orgasm is the winner?”

“Oh yeah.” Hvitserk squeezes your thighs, making you jump just a little as his fingers press into the bottom of your bruising ass.

“That’s ridiculous,” you say, but you don’t sound like you mean it.

His fingertips slide deeper under the edge of your shorts, playing with the flesh left tender by Ubbe’s spanking. “Hey, if you don’t want to play my nice game, I can try one of your mean ones . . .”

“I didn’t say that,” you rush to correct, although it certainly turns you on even more when Hvitserk digs his fingers right into your sore cheeks, until you writhe and hiss above him. “Who starts?”

Hvitserk switches back to nice touches, palming your ass in hearty handfuls. His brow cocks, and he turns to Ubbe. “Home field advantage, bro. You go first.”

Ubbe reaches around your shoulders and, with a playful growl, pulls you bodily off his brother. He tucks your back in against his front, so you’re still facing Hvitserk, now seated on the center cushion of the couch between them. Ubbe’s hands come up around your body, curling possessively over your breasts as he mouths at your neck just below your ear. Home field advantage, indeed. He already knows exactly what you like, and you feel like you’re already halfway there just from all the lust pervading the room.

Ubbe pops the clasp of your bra, freeing your tits for Hvitserk’s eyes. And his own hands. After he tosses your bra he’s scooping them up from underneath, presenting them toward his brother, squeezing and teasing your nipples rather than covering them up until Hvitserk looks like he might start drooling from the show.

“I thought we decided I’d get top half first,” he finally says, leaning in toward you.

“Just warming her up,” Ubbe purrs against your neck, then releases your breasts and pushes you softly forward. “Here you go.”

Hvitserk catches you in a kiss as you lean into him, deceptively sweet before he palms both your breasts. Ubbe’s fingers tickle at the backs of your thighs, and then he’s stripping you, pushing shorts and panties together down your hips. So much for showing off that matching set. You get up on your hands and knees to help it happen.

Naked between both of them now. You have to stop kissing Hvitserk to let Ubbe get you into the position he wants from you. Hvitserk keeps helping himself to your tits as you end up with your back propped up against him, the rest of your body laying along the couch so Ubbe can get his face in between your legs.

You’ve said it before; Ubbe loves eating pussy. You’ve never had it so good from anyone. Unless Hvitserk has acquired some sort of unfathomable, god-like secrets of the female body, you don’t know how he’s going to possibly outdo his older brother. Ubbe already knows exactly what you like. He kisses along your body before nestling between your thighs, then opens you up boldly with his tongue. He closes in on your favorite spot with the steady confidence of a master, his hot tongue starting broad but never failing to hit you squarely at just the right angle with every pass.

This may be a competition, but Hvitserk is not being stingy with his assistance. His hands continue to play with your nipples, almost idly, like he absolutely can’t help himself. And the raspy way he’s breathing in your ear while he toys with your body – he’s making Ubbe’s job too easy. Caught between the two of them like this, your breath starts hitching almost before you’ve really had a chance to settle in and enjoy this crazy scenario.

“You’re close,” Hvitserk says.

“Uh huh,” you reply. It comes out throaty little sexpot voice.

Ubbe growls with pride, the vibration of it against your clit ratcheting you up yet another notch closer to release.

Hvitserk’s hands leave your breasts. One digs in his pocket, producing his phone so, just as they had said, he can open a stopwatch app. That alone should be killing the mood, but then Ubbe presses his fingers inside you and you realize there really is no going back for you. Nothing is too juvenile, or ridiculous, when the Lothbrok boys are the ones asking you for it.

Long, cool fingers wrap around your own. Hvitserk is holding your hand. “Squeeze me when you start coming,” he rasps in your ear. You can hear the excitement behind his instructional tone. This is so fucked-up, and they both love it.

Ubbe goes in for his grand finale. He finds that perfect angle, from both inside and out now, and works you relentlessly.

“Ooooh…” your moaning starts, and just as that wave of pleasure crests you clench your fingers around Hvitserk’s hand.

You hold your breath. The orgasm rocks you hard, your naked body writhing against Hvitserk’s chest, your cheek rubbing into his t-shirt and you hope you’re not going to drool on him. You had been a little worried that knowing your orgasm would be timed might be too much pressure, might make it slip away as soon as it’s crested like you’ve experienced in less-than-ideal situations before, but Ubbe is too good for that, this situation is apparently too hot for that, and you’re sure that clock is running even longer than you ever expected as the pleasure spirals in wave after wave through your core underneath Ubbe’s relentless tongue.

You suck in one gasping breath and then hold it again, somewhere in the middle there. You keep it in even after the ecstasy begins to fade, and maintain your death grip on Hvitserk’s hand. Hvitty’s a cool guy, but Ubbe’s your guy, right? One of them, at least. It’s easy to follow the urge to cheat the clock a little on his behalf. Exaggerate the results by a few more heartbeats. He deserves it. And it feels good to pick him over someone else for once.

Finally you slump, going limp in Hvitserk’s arms except for a few twitches as Ubbe finishes up with one last swipe of his tongue. He embraces your thighs, nestling in against one leg and gasping a little himself.

“Twenty-two seconds,” Hvitserk reads, “very nice, bro.”

Ubbe nips at your thigh, with affection. “She’s amazing.”

Four hands move across your body, enhancing your afterglow. Ubbe makes his way down your legs as Hvitserk sets his phone to the side and runs his palms up your flanks.

Coming as hard as that might make a girl sleepy, but under the movement of those hands you feel electrified, like every one of your nerve endings has been turned on now, and the possibilities for pleasure are only just beginning.

Ubbe comes up to his knees between your legs, leaning forward and scooping you up with a hand in your hair to meet his insistent kiss. You sit up between them, enjoying the slight soreness of your spanked ass rubbing bare against the couch cushion, and savor Hvitserk’s hands as they caress down your back to your hips. “Time to switch,” you ask between Ubbe’s kisses, “or will there be an interlude?”

Ubbe makes an interested sound as your hands run down to his crotch. As you expected, he’s rock hard and swelling into your touch.

“When we’re alone,” you croon, “you’re usually making me return a favor like that almost immediately.”

Ubbe responds by pushing your head firmly downwards.

One of the best parts about being a sub is that you’re not responsible for managing anything about a scene. Nothing but your own hard limits, of course. But something simple like this, deciding whether this is okay, or if Hvitserk will find this too rude or feel left out . . . that’s not your job to consider. Ubbe’s forcing your face down to his crotch and that’s the only thing that has to be in your world right now.

He sighs as you open up his jeans, releasing the pressure that had to be quite restrictive for him all this time. Neither of the boys have taken off a stitch of clothing, you realize, and here you are fully naked on your hands and knees between them.

Ubbe reaches in and pulls his erection out through the fly of his boxer briefs. Does It count as him getting a little more naked, if he’s immediately pulling your mouth over to swallow it up?

You always kind of think about channeling your inner snake when sucking Ubbe off, as you just about unhinge your jaw to fit that slab of meat he’s packing into your mouth. It’s worth it for the sounds he makes, though. This time he’s holding himself back, probably trying to look tough with his brother present, but his guttural grunts and muttered curses when you swirl your tongue just right are close enough to the full show. He keeps his hand on the back of your neck, too, not exactly controlling your movements but certainly keeping you on-task down there.

As your head came down to meet Ubbe’s cock, your hindquarters rose. Hvitserk is certainly getting an eyeful of your ass and whatever he can glimpse of your pussy between your bare thighs, with your knees only slightly spread for balance up on the couch cushion. It takes him longer than you expect to reach out and start exploring what’s on offer with his fingertips.

He starts low on your thighs, tracing up toward your naughty bits lightly. You arch your back a little more, encouraging him. His fingernails graze over the widest part of your ass.

The longer it takes him to come close to your pussy, the more you’re silently begging him to. You’re working your mouth up and down over Ubbe’s cock, relishing your lover’s taste and scent, sure, but you’re also quite distracted by thoughts of what Hvitserk’s looking at and what he’s going to do next.

When his thumb finally slides down to the edge of your pussy lips you moan, loudly, the sound made even more pornographic by the way Ubbe’s choking cock distorts it. Perhaps Hvitserk understands it as encouragement, because his thumb keeps sliding, up and down, in a confident delineation of the edges of your sex. You moan some more. It’s actually quite fun to hear the ways the sounds come out in garbled and staccato bursts as Ubbe’s hand urges your mouth faster and deeper.

“Fuck, keep making those sounds,” Ubbe says.

Hvitserk does his part, continuing to tease your cunt, not doing anything very specific or intense, just exploring and tantalizing and waking everything up all over again. He finds your clit and bats at it just a little, then spirals away again to swirl his fingertip at your very entrance.

“Fuck, this pussy,” Hvitserk groans through his teeth. “I want to fuck it so bad.”

You arch your back even more, almost trying to force yourself over his fingers as you continue on fastidiously with the job in front of you.

Ubbe speaks for you. “Go ahead, dude. I think there’s still condoms in the drawer.”

Hvitserk’s pressure increases, just a little bit. “Not yet.” He traps your clit between his fingers and pinches. “Still gotta win that contest. I need to keep my head in the game. I get off now, I lose my edge.”

You can’t fucking take it. You slide up off Ubbe’s cock with a popping sound so you can plead with Hvitserk. “Just a little, then? Just fuck it a little.” He’s making you too fucking crazy to keep quiet. “I want you, Hvitserk.”

“Honey, you think I can get in this cute little pussy of yours and stop myself before I blow? No one’s that strong.”

“Speaking of blowing . . .” Ubbe’s coaxing your mouth back over his dick before you can answer, using your scalp to hold you steady as he starts to fuck up into your face. Your aroused little moans turn helpless around the rough thrusting of his cock, while Hvitserk gifts you with a fraction of what you want by pressing one blessed finger inside.

“Swallow it all,” Ubbe tells you, his voice gone breathy and thin. “Don’t spill a drop.”

You fuck yourself back over Hvitserk’s long finger as Ubbe’s pace increases, spurring himself on to blast his seed into the back of your throat. Swallowing is certainly the easiest way to make sure you don’t choke.

He shudders inside your mouth, holding you close while he pants and decides he’s really done. You savor the last moments of Ubbe’s cock in your mouth. Hvitserk slowed down when your body stopped rocking, but never really stopped: in, out. In, out. That finger keeps sliding, to remind you. Ubbe’s done, but you’re not. Not. Even. Close.

When Ubbe finally releases your face, you suck him clean as you pull back and then lift your head. You hold the rest of your body still, unwilling to interrupt Hvitserk’s steady rhythm inside you. Ubbe wraps his hand under your chin, guiding you to look up at him.

His eyes are sleepy around the edges, but still sparkling. You watch them track quickly over your face. “You’re up, Hvitserk,” he says, amused. “She looks ready.”

Unfortunately, this makes Hvitserk stop fingering you. You turn towards him with a whine.

He meets your eyes and smirks. “Definitely ready. Lay down.”

You spread yourself along the couch as Hvitserk slides down off it, guiding your legs to open where he can easily reach you from his knees on the floor. Your head doesn’t fit in Ubbe’s lap from this position; you’re lying flat on your back across the middle of the couch, with your face next to his hip. He reaches down and cups your cheek, dragging his thumb idly over your skin.

It feels a little more vulnerable, to be laid out like this. Which enhances the thrill of knowing that a man you barely know is between your spread legs, staring at your most intimate places. Hvitserk lets his hot breath steam over your wet and needy entrance, building the anticipation. Hands caress the insides of your thighs, then his thumb starts sliding in to open you up.

You can feel how wet you’ve become from the ease with which he parts your inner lips. You moan and arch as Hvitserk drags that moisture up to lubricate your clit, letting him draw easy circles around the sensitive button.

When he leans in to replace his thumb with his mouth, it’s gentle, almost a kiss. Then he sucks on your clit and your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“Fuck, you look good like this,” Ubbe mutters. He leans forward and scoops up both your breasts with his hands. “I’m going to get hard again already.”

A nervous giggle slips out as you ponder how you might get caught in an endless cycle of cocks after this. If watching you with one is only going to keep turning the other one on again. Perhaps you’re fortunate that Ubbe and Ivar never try to have you at the same time like this. A girl can only take so much.

Hvitserk, it turns out, is not an idle boaster. His competence at eating pussy is instantly apparent. His tongue glides hungrily to all the right places, and when you look down, the dark satisfaction in his hooded eyes makes you feel like you’re caught in a filthy monster’s jaws.

You can’t even track what exactly he’s doing down there. All you know is that the pleasure is surging, from every square millimeter that his lips and tongue touch. He slips two fingers inside you, and rocks them in such a way that you swear he’s found something inside there that no one else has ever noticed before. Your whole body is singing.

An obnoxious noise brings you just a little bit back down to earth. One of Ubbe’s hands leaves your chest, the other left gently cupping one tit.

“It’s Ivar,” Ubbe says, scooping Hvitserk’s vibrating phone off the table.

Hvitserk sucks you hard before lifting his mouth, drawing a strangled cry from you. You realize you’ve been making all kinds of crazy noises for the past few minutes. “Let him listen,” the arrogant boy responds.

Ivar’s voice is faint, but you can hear it, issuing forth from the phone hovering above you in Ubbe’s hand. His tone is impatient, as usual: “Hvitserk, you there?”

His brother has dropped his mouth back between your legs, sucking at you in time to the curl of his fingertips deep inside. There’s no way to keep yourself from moaning, and making ragged little sounds whenever you try to breathe.

“Interesting.” Ivar drags out the first syllable. You don’t hear anything from him for a while, and then, he says your name. “Can you hear me?”

You turn your next moan upward, into a whiny little “uh huh!”

Hvitserk is not letting you get any more lucid than that.

“Are you showing Hvitserk your best hospitality?” Ivar asks, his Dom voice apparent even from this distance. Ubbe’s thumb moves and his voice gets louder. “Doesn’t sound like it,” Ivar continues, chastising you on speaker. “It sounds like you’re being quite selfish.”

Is Hvitserk getting you in trouble right now? The movement of his tongue only intensifies, threatening to turn your steady moans into squeals. Your legs are starting to shake as heat floods your core.

“What are they doing to you over there?” Ivar continues. “I don’t hear Ubbe, but I’m sure he’s lurking about.”

If he’s expecting you to answer, he’s going to be disappointed. No way you’re capable of speech.

“I hope you are enjoying yourself,” Ivar says, continuing on as a monologue. “And I hope that you’re looking forward to being punished later, for being such a bad girl. Making our guest work so hard for your own selfish, wicked pleasure.” Every word goes straight to your cunt, helping Hvitserk build you toward an orgasm that promises to be a screamer. “You’re the one that should have your mouth full right now, greedy girl. I see that you can’t be trusted to be left alone. We will begin… some much stricter training when I get home.” Fuck. “I’m sure Hvitserk won’t mind helping me teach you better manners. Are you close, greedy girl? I hear your voice changing. Enjoy it, because it might be the last one that you get for a long, long time.”

Between Ivar’s words and Hvitserk’s skills, you don’t stand a fucking chance. You clutch behind you to find Ubbe’s hand, barely remembering the rules of the contest in time as this pleasure starts to climax.

“Wait,” Ubbe huffs, “gotta get the stopwatch.”

Ivar’s chuckle drips out of the phone while Ubbe fumbles with it. He may have had some choice words for what these two gorgeous, sexy idiots are up to, but you only hear him get as far as “Are you two—” before a rushing in your ears takes over and you lose consciousness of anything else but the tidal wave of pleasure crashing through your body.

Hvitserk is relentless. He doesn’t slow the intensity a bit, pushes you through your screaming, writhing orgasm with the dedication of a pit bull as he just hits that magic spot over and over and over. You’re shaking and gasping before it’s done, and when the peak turns to oversensitivity he’s still determined to wring a few more seconds out of you, doesn’t stop until your thighs try to clench shut around his head in a helpless attempt to push him away.

You’re left panting as Ubbe announces the time above your head. “Thirty-four seconds.”

“And you started late,” Hvitserk points out. He’s panting too.

“And I started late,” Ubbe admits.

So much for your attempt at cheating on Ubbe’s behalf. Hvitserk sure as hell won fair and square. If Ivar’s little participation doesn’t count.

Wait. Is Ivar still on the phone?

“I take it Hvitserk is the winner.”

Yep. He’s there.

Hvitserk wipes his mouth as he rises from the ground, lifting one of your legs to roll you out of his way so he can resume his seat on the end of the couch. He nestles himself against your naked hip and reaches out his upturned hand to Ubbe, silently asking for his phone back.

You expect him to speak, but all you hear is the descending tone indicating an ended call. Hvitserk tosses his phone back on the table with a dismissive sound. You think you might even see a trace of a snarl on his lip as you look up at him through your post-orgasmic haze.

Then all his attention is back on you. You watch his greedy eyes run all over your body, from your upturned hip to the curve of your tilted waist, your bare breasts and your parted, panting mouth. “What were you saying earlier?” he asks, leaning in with a conspiratorial smile. “Something about want me to ‘fuck it just a little?’”

You nod breathlessly as he climbs further over your body. His hooded eyes look predatory now, and if somehow Ivar made him mad then he definitely seems ready to take it out on you. He gives your hip a little smack, watching how the impact makes you jiggle, then inspects your face while he gives you another one.

“You like it rough, huh?”

You nod, and twist your body to present your ass to him even better. Honestly you feel like your pussy is about to start dripping on the couch, so it also doesn’t hurt to get it further away from the cushions.

He nods too, thoughtfully. “There’s this position I like. Not every girl can handle it.”

Ubbe makes an interested noise above you. “She can handle a lot.”

“So I keep hearing.” Hvitserk taps at your ass. “Up.”

He stands at the same time as you do, and you don’t miss the way he readjusts himself inside his pants. He pulls you in close for a kiss, pressing your naked body fully against his clothes.

He whips his shirt off. Finally. “There are condoms around here?”

“Yes,” you say, dropping to your knees to open one of the little drawers at the base of the coffee table. You and Ubbe had scattered them all over the house before he made his monogamy pledge and the tests had come back clean. You turn back to Hvitserk, presenting him the little package in your palms.

He makes a happy little noise in the back of his throat. “I like the way you look down there.” He loosens his belt. “Now I’m thinking you need to stay on your knees and show me what that sweet mouth can do.”

You nod, eagerly, as you watch him get his dick out and step closer to your face. You meet it with your tongue, wrapping a hand around his shaft to keep him pointed down where you can reach.

There’s something extra fun about a blowjob that you don’t intend to finish. You lick around the head of his cock like it’s a lollypop, pausing to give him playful eye contact and then watching him watch you swallow it up.

Ubbe’s the one that groans. When you flick your eyes over to him he’s got one hand thrust into his own pants like he’s gearing up for round two. “You look so good. Teasing it like that.”

You can’t help yourself. You keep your eyes locked onto Ubbe while pulling Hvitserk a little closer, giving his shaft little kitten licks.

“You are fucking hot as hell, darlin’,” Hvitserk says, looking straight down the line of his body at you. “But I’ve had enough teasing tonight. Come up over here.”

He leads you to the side of the couch and bends you over the armrest.

“Saw this in a porno once.” He kicks at your legs until you spread them a little further apart. “Stop me if it’s not working for you. But I think you’re flexible enough.”

He pushes down between your shoulders until your chest hits the couch. You relax the side of your face into the cushion and just go with it. Now your hips are higher than the rest of your body, and quite decently supported by the plush armrest. Not hard so far. There must be something more coming.

You hear the sound of the condom wrapper opening. Ubbe shifts above your head, but you resist the temptation to check and see what he’s doing on his end of the couch. Ivar’s right; you’ve been selfish. You must give your full submission to Hvitserk now, and show him that you are doing exactly as he instructs. No more, no less, and no looking at his brother.

You know you’re wet but he spits on his fingers and works a little added lubrication into you anyway.

“I liked the way you were begging,” he comments, voice husky as you feel him moving in closer. “Think I can make you beg a little more?”

“Oh, Hvitserk, please.” You angle your hips up even higher, offering yourself to him. You’re positively aching to be filled up, after all this.

“Please what?” You feel the brush of something thicker than fingers against your slick entrance.

You take a breath. “Please fuck me until I can’t walk straight.”

“That is definitely the plan.” He pushes into you slow, the second Lothbrok you’ve let go balls-deep into you now. He’s not as thick as Ubbe but that hardly matters, not when you’re swollen with need and reveling in the fact that this one wants you too, bad enough to throw shame out the window and fuck you right in front of his brother. “Fuuuuck.” He presses in deep and just stays there a minute, hands gripping your ass tight.

You buck your hips up against him, although you don’t have much leverage with your belly in the couch and your legs spread so wide.

He grunts and answers your enthusiasm with his own, starting to bounce against you in measured thrusts. “Ungh, I knew you had a sweet little pussy. Are you happy to share it with me?”

“Yes,” you wail, as he pounds you harder, the friction electrifying every nerve ending they hadn’t already fried out with that pussy-eating competition.

“You gonna share it with me all week?”

“Uh huh!”

“And you can you really handle that? Three guys telling you what to do around here? Keeping this pussy full?”

“M-mhmm.”

“What was that?”

“Yes! I’ll find a way.”

“Good.” His thrusts have settled into a quick, steady rhythm. “Arch your back more.”

You really have to press your chest into the couch, and come up to your tiptoes when it feels like you can barely reach the floor as it is, but you manage it. It makes his thrusts feel deeper, threatening to bottom out against your cervix.

“Now give me your arms.”

This must be it. The thing that other girls won’t do. You give up supporting your body with your forearms, twisting them both behind your back instead. It puts a lot of your weight on your face and upper chest, the only things left to support the bouncing impacts of his thrusting, but it’s manageable. Fingers wrap around your wrists, straightening your arms back behind you. He’s using them like handles now, to pull your arched body over his cock. It’s rough, but you can take it. You’re just flexible enough.

“Fuck, you look so good like this,” Hvitserk croons.

“You’re telling me,” Ubbe says. His voice is coming from the side now. You open your eyes to see that he’s left the couch for the coffee table, sitting right across from your face where he can get the best view of your contorted figure. “Think you can lift your feet off the ground, wrap them behind him?”

You try. Lifting your legs like that clenches your pelvic floor, which makes Hvitserk yelp and then fuck you harder. Now you’ve got absolutely no control at all, laying on your face and getting fucked down into the cushions. You might be drooling. There’s nothing to be done for it if you are.

You wouldn’t be able to stay like this for long, but it doesn’t seem like you’re going to have to. Hvitserk’s making this drawn-out humming sort of noise, he’s so into it, pistoning into you at an accelerating rate that suggests he’s barreling toward climax.

“This is the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” Ubbe says. You want him to shut up so he doesn’t make Hvitserk uncomfortable, but these two do seem to have some kind of established groove for this already. And hearing him tell you how sexy this outrageously acrobatic pose is does make it easier for you to hang on in it for a little longer. It’s not an angle that’s going to get you off, but ferocious pleasure rings through your body anyway.

“Ahh—” Hvitserk’s rising wail almost sounds desperate, and then he forces air between his teeth as he grinds himself even deeper into you.

You don’t complain as he crushes you just a little more. It’s obvious that he’s reveling in a prolonged, ecstatic climax, and you’re certainly not going to begrudge him anything less than the thirty-four seconds of bliss he so recently finished giving you.

But when he gasps the end of his release, and his body stops clenching, you’re tugging your arms out of his grip, grateful to untwist your shoulders and get the pressure off your neck.

“Fuck—thanks. Fuck,” he pants. “That was incredible.” He stays inside you. You feel his forehead drop to the middle of your back as you both start letting your muscles relax one by one. You like the way his hair feels on your skin.

An insistent, gorilla-like grunt emanates from somewhere above your head. “My turn,” Ubbe says, and his hands wrap around your forearms.

“Dude,” Hvitserk exhales. “Give me a fucking minute!” His hips writhe against you. “She feels so fucking good . . .”

You feel Ubbe take a seat on the couch next to your head, but he does not release your arms. His grip flexes impatiently, but at least he’s not pulling you bodily out from underneath his brother.

“She probably needs a rest too, dude,” Hvitserk continues, his breath warming your skin. “A little recovery time from all that.” As if realizing he was barely following his own advice, he withdraws himself carefully from your body and lets you move your legs more comfortably back together.

“Nah, she’s better than that,” Ubbe rumbles, voice thick and rich and proud. “She takes dick like a champ.” His fingers tickle under your chin until you look up at him. “You want two in a row, don’t you babe.” The gleam in his eye tells you he’s fully recovered from his last orgasm, and absolutely ready to go.

Hvitserk is being very nice. But is nice really what you want? You probably wouldn’t be in this position if that was the case. “Yeah,” you say, answering Ubbe’s growling with your own throaty sex kitten moan.

Ubbe’s blue eyes blaze and he tugs you towards him. Your legs wobble a little as you climb around the arm of the couch. Hvitserk’s promise kept. Ubbe sees your weakness and scoops you up, like any good predator would.

He whirls you around, getting you underneath his body as your back presses into the armrest of his side of the couch. He can only kiss you once, as sloppy as he is passionate, before he’s struggling with his pants.

That glorious erection is rock-hard as you help him free it from his clothing. He wastes no time pushing himself into you, as if he took Hvitserk’s dirty talk about “keeping this pussy full” quite seriously.

You might be just a little bit sore. That hardly matters when Ubbe gets his rhythm going, the aching only adding to the decadent pleasure of back-to-back fuckings.

He’s got one foot on the floor, giving him ridiculous leverage to split you open against the corner of the couch. You throw your arms around his neck and brace yourself, looking over his shoulder at Hvitserk’s sleepy-cat smile as the boy catches his breath while watching you get impaled.

“Touch yourself,” says Ubbe, shifting to pull your hand down between your bodies, flexing his fucking abs to curl his body and give you room as he continues to pound.

“Ivar said—”

“Don’t you want one more, before he makes that threat official?”

Fuck. Good point. See, Ubbe can be nice too. You let your fingers fly.

“I want to feel you cum all over my dick,” he grunts out, his pace increasing as he seems to turn himself on even more with just the thought. “And I want to hear it, too.”

It doesn’t take long. Your poor pussy shivers under Ubbe’s onslaught, the clenching of your muscles as you hold yourself up against it magnifying the oncoming orgasm into something that makes you want to scream like some kind of wild shieldmaiden between your teeth.

And Ubbe wanted to hear you. So you do. That sizzling pleasure radiates out of your core until your lower half locks up, clamping around him so hard that even his punishing pace has to slow.

When you suck in your next breath and the sound of your own voice fades, you hear Ubbe gasping. He’s coming too, locked down in your throbbing pussy. You stay like that, clenched tight and pressing up against him, for a few more breaths while your climax fades only slowly. You actually felt your inner walls milking him. Drawing that seed deep up inside you.

You release a throaty sigh and finally let your body unwind.

Ubbe presses his forehead against yours. “Fuck, princess,” he breathes. “How do you keep getting more amazing?”

You end up sprawled along the couch between them, your head in Hvitserk’s lap while Ubbe massages every kink out of the big muscles of your legs. You don’t feel self-conscious to still be naked. You feel like nothing less than a classical goddess. Something the masters would line up to paint, and even more; the utterly feminine deity that men have immortalized in clay and enshrined on cave walls since the dawn of the human capacity to think. Nothing more natural in the world than your naked, beloved body.

Which doesn’t mean that you’re not grateful when Ubbe spreads a warm blanket over you, when his massaging hands have mostly finished. Sure, you were going to spend the afternoon cleaning this room, but your eyes are drifting closed in the post-sex haze now. They’ll turn the game back on, won’t they, and let you take a little nap across their laps first.

But you don’t hear the TV turn back on. Not yet. Instead, a conversation begins above your dozing head.

“You do this with Ivar, dude?”

Ubbe shifts underneath your leg before he responds. “Not like this.”

Hvitserk makes a soft sound. “Didn’t think so.” There’s a pause, long enough to tempt you back into sleep, but you really want to hear if they’re going to say anything more about this. Hvitserk has known them his whole life. He probably has some insight that would be valuable for you to know. You shift a little in his lap though, making sure he knows you’re still awake. Wouldn’t be right to actually eavesdrop.

His hand comes to your head, stroking gently across your hair. “Can't believe Ivar's really sharing with you, dude.”

“Maybe I'm sharing with him.”

Hvitserk just laughs.

You open your eyes to see Ubbe shrugging. “It’s working out so far. I let him lead.”

“I didn’t think you could do that.”

Ubbe leans forward over your feet, grabbing his forgotten bottle off the coffee table. “He’s grown a lot, since we were all at home.” He takes a thoughtful swig. “I probably have, too.” He makes eye contact with you for a second, possibly acknowledging the awkwardness of talking about these things over your head, but doesn’t say anything that might draw you into the conversation.

Not that you have anything to say. You’re just soaking up every little piece of information you can get.

Your face is pointed away from Hvitserk; although you’re in his lap, you can’t really see anything of him but his knee.

“Well, it’s the only thing I’ve ever found that works with him. Ivar has to be the one in control, or it doesn’t go well.”

“You say that like I haven’t been living with him for years, too, dude.”

“I’m saying it because it’s hard to believe you can really pull that off. You’ve always had to kind of be the top dog yourself, dude.”

Ubbe’s fingers stroke you underneath the blanket. “Some things are worth a little compromise.”

Hvitserk bounces your head just a little. “What do you think? Is Ubbe ever really not the boss?” You rouse yourself, twisting your body until your face is pointed up at Hvitserk’s. “Pretty much ran the show today, didn’t he?”

You consider your answer, glancing between their waiting faces. At least they’re both smiling. This is not an answer you need to feel worried about crafting too carefully. “I think it was pretty natural for him to guide things today,” you say, looking up into Hvitserk’s eyes, “since you and I had never—” you trail off self-consciously as you stare up into that gorgeous face.

Hvitserk squeezes you up in his arms, and his smile turns mischievous. “But now we are very familiar with each other. Aren’t we.”

You nod, suddenly breathless again.

“You want to keep playing with me, while I’m in town?”

You smile and nod harder.

“Good,” Ubbe says, his hand running up your leg. “Cuz by my count, we’re not exactly done here. You got me off twice. Hvitserk only nutted once. That’s not right,” he says, shaking his head. “He’s our guest. You should spend tonight in bed with him, at the very least.”

And why do you get the feeling Ubbe’s going to find an excuse to be involved in that, too?

“No offense,” Hvitserk says, “but that’s the kind of shit I’m talking about, dude. Telling us what to do. You let anything not be Ivar’s idea, man, and you’re done.” Hvitserk’s gaze swivels back down to meet yours. “If he can’t hold some of that shit back,” he tells you, a smirk twisting up his cheek, “you’re never going to be able to have the both of them at the same time.”

Taglist is open:  @hanhanxx @xxdearlybeloved​@littledeadrottinghood @persephone-is-here-omg​ @rekdreams247​ @inforapound​​ @creepshowzombae @tomarisela​​ @youbloodymadgenius​​ @walkxthexmoon​​@funmadnessandbadassvikings @trashqueenbitch @justlovelifeblog​​ @earl-aive​​ @supernaturalvikingwhore​​ @equalstrashflavoredtrash​​ @that-was-not-supposed-to-happen​​ @ceridwenofwales​​ @grungyblonde​​ @pokeasleepingsmaug​​ @hvittysmutanon​​ @honestsycrets​​ @wuxiesalt @thorins-queen-of-erebor​​ @writingfromasgard​​ @tootie-fruity​​ @lordsexmachine​​ @uncomfortable-writers​​ @sadbutatleastsassy​​ @sweatstreatz01 @ritual-unions-gotme​​ @likealostkiss​​ @thehangedmanandthehoneybee @xxlilqueeniexx @thefightingdragon​​ @xbergiex​​ @artemiseamoon​​ @ivarinleatherpants​​ @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @michael-guerin​​ @chibisgotovalhalla​​  @heavenly1927​​ @writingsnmusings​​

[parvuls]

this is more me making sense of my thoughts than it is a proper post. i've been reading a lot of fic in the past six months, and recently i've noticed that i'm really squeamish about romanticising power imbalance.

i'm saying this is more thoughts than post because - different people, different opinions? everyone should do whatever the hell works for them, and some people could manage leaning more on their partner than others. but i, personally, see equality between partners and the independent growth of each partner outside of the relationship as a must have in an adult relationship.

this translates to personal hobbies, separate friends, alone time, etc. - but in fic, this mostly concerns money. and this got me thinking about omgcp.

i've seen a lot of jokes about bitty getting engaged to jack right out of college. i've seen a lot of jokes about how he doesn't have a real job and is a kept boy (i'm probably bitter because i think youtube is definitely a job, but maybe that's my inner 2014 youtube fandom member talking, lol). they were good-natured jokes, obviously, but it just. bugs me so much?

and now i wanna write so many future canonverse "fix it"s. snapshots of bitty and jack talking about money like adults. because jack - you know jack zimmermann. jack 110% zimmermman. jack "i'll buy my teammate an oven" zimmermann. jack has had money all his life, and he has his own money now, and he might, probably, definitely, be a little too inclined to spend it on bitty. he knows the value of money, he's not a big spender usually, but in his mind, what better way to spend his money than on the man he loves?

and bitty - look. bitty clearly likes gifts and jack's silly big romantic gestures; jack buying bitty the entire beyonce collection comes to mind. being too proud to accept expensive acts of affection is not one of his character traits. but bitty also, stubbornly, refuses to ask for help with his issues or admit he has them at all. and i just can't see him being comfortable with the easiness with which jack can just wave away every financial worry bitty might have.

in the long run, we already know it doesn't matter: ngozi has hinted many times that bitty becomes famous in his own right ("has a food empire"), which is probably around the time jack is nearing retirement. their positions will even out. but straight off the bat, bitty moving from a rundown frat house into an apartment he doesn't pay for, and only starting to negotiate his book deal and his channel and his career ambitions... i would like to see them talk about this. a mature, realistic obstacle in a relationship.

like, you know fics where jack buys bitty a bakery? ...exactly not that. i'd like to see fair arguments - jack bringing up joint accounts once they'd be married, and asking where does bitty draw the line; bitty realizing he is, indeed, not ready for them to be legally married just yet. bitty inviting jack to his vlog to relaunch the channel and announce his cookbook but then refusing to monetize jack's fame any further than that, instead choosing to build on his own community. jack and bitty trying to find a balance between bitty not actually needing to pay anything in his life with jack but wanting to, and how they find a common ground they're comfortable with.

TL;DR - i've got an adulting kink and i'd like to see jack and bitty be big boys in a healthy relationship who love each other and build their lives side by side, as equals ☺️

[1kook]

late fee

jeon jeongguk x (f) reader

summary: “Captain Underpants isn’t glorified by all the tryhards, so when I pick those books, you’re unknowingly more interested in me.” tags: f2l, flirty kook, jk’s obsession w/captain underpants, he’s a fuckboy but he’s a soft fuckboy dont get it twisted, campus boy crush jk(yes again), jk abuses the FuCK out of pet names, miss koo1aid actually writes some PLOT warnings: much flirting, nsfw bc of a lot of heavy petting, pussy eatin’, a lil dirty talk, very s l i g h t coochie sniffing, BUT!!! protected sex :) wc: 10.3k

i wrote another fic (applause) and the entire thing is based off my belief that jungkook 10000% would enjoy captain underpants books. not proofread bc i am a hermit and speak to exactly 0 ppl on here, que dios los bendiga

“Helloooo, sexy librarian,” Jeongguk says the moment he steps through the door, lopsided grin adorning his features as he swaggers over to obnoxiously lean against your desk. You can’t even pretend you didn’t see him, his presence so blaringly consuming, and evident in the way some dorky high schoolers glance over to gawk at him.

“What book are you checking out today, Jeon?” You muse instead, leaving your desk chair to head over to the stack of new books that needed to be stamped. As you turn, Jeongguk whistles at the sight, and you don’t even have it in you anymore to retort back the same way you would when he first started bugging you. “Also, are you aware that your copy of Captain Underpants and the Perilous Plot of Professor Poopypants is due tomorrow? It’s a dollar for every day it’s late—”

“You needn’t worry longer, baby,” Jeongguk interrupts, and the loud smack of a hardcover against the desk catches your attention. There lies Jeongguk’s Captain Underpants book, alongside the paperback copy of Beloved that has definitely seen better days.

You furrow your brows. “When did you check out this one?” You question, checking the spine to make sure the book belongs to your library. Much to your surprise, there’s no barcode on the side, and no stamp on the inside.

Your question goes unanswered as Jeongguk jumps into a full-length novella recapture of the hot frat party he’d been to last weekend, and how the Zeta Theta Psi guys knew how to party. That Jimin fellow that Jeongguk frequently mentions had apparently snorted a line of coke off their friend Seokjin’s broad shoulders just to prove his friend had godly proportions. It’s weird, but Jeongguk says it’s because you have to ride for your bros. You try to act uninterested, but Jeongguk’s a funny guy, really, and you can only hide so many chuckles with the sound of a stamp.

He’s in the middle of trying to cover up of one of his frequent trysts after accidentally exposing himself—”Don’t get it twisted, baby, I just took her upstairs to call her friend.”—when Namjoon comes out of the back room looking for you. He barely glances at your guest, before handing you a list of overdue books.

“Would you mind calling these people?” He asks, voice soft, just as everything else was about Namjoon. “They’re all a week past.”

“Yikes,” you say, eyes scanning over the list. Surprisingly, Jeongguk is still there, hovering over you as if waiting for you to dismiss him. “Do you mind, Jeon?” You say, channeling your best customer service voice. As much as Namjoon was wary of him, he still considered Jeongguk a patron in your establishment and hated to see him treated poorly, no matter how many library rules Jeongguk broke.

“Of course,” he sighs, and you miss the hostile glare he throws Namjoon when you whirl around for a highlighter. “I’ll see you later, sweetheart,” he says when you turn back around, stretching ana rm in your direction.

Half of you knows exactly what he’ll do, but the other half of you, the one trying desperately to act like his advances have no effect on you, have you placing your palm in his. You’re not super surprised when he tugs your hand upward, pecking your knuckles with a flirty wink. “Adios, Juliet,” he smirks.

“Wrong language,” you inform him, rolling your eyes nonchalantly even though your heart is beating one hundred miles per second. Jeongguk cackles, loud as all hell in the silent library, before making his exit.

It’s silent for all of twenty seconds before Namjoon jumps right into it. “So are you seeing him, or…” he interrogates, trying to act like he’s hardly interested, but you’ve known and worked alongside Namjoon long enough to know he’s secretly the community gossip.

You ignore him, choosing to jam the buttons on the phone instead.

The weird thing about Jeongguk, was that, although he was notoriously known amongst the undergraduates (and even some graduates, because he just had it like that, you suppose) as one of the biggest fuckboys, he was different. Not to sound like every teen romcom you’d ever scanned, but he genuinely was. For starters, he’d fuck your brains out and then make you his best friend the morning after. He definitely had a very peculiar, and backwards, way of doing the whole one night stand thing.

All this you’ve gathered from your friends, who, at one point have had some sort of encounter with Jeongguk. Dahyun’s was last spring at a club event, when he’d oh so smoothly flirted with her for a solid hour before realizing she didn’t swing that way. Which is how they become close friends, which is how, by association, Jeongguk set his sights on you.

Your introduction to Jeongguk wasn’t anything out of the ordinary; he’d been tagging along behind Dahyun like a lost puppy, begging her for some class notes, and had subsequently followed her all the way to your favorite meeting place. From then, he’d dropped his petulant, childish act and put on his macho face, chest puffed and eyes hooded as he devoured your very presence.

The next time you see him, it’s at a frat party where some guy had been harping on you go upstairs with him. Another weird thing about Jeongguk, he hated when other fuckboys didn’t utilize their brains. You assume it’s because it gives the fuckboy community a bad rep as a whole, but Jeongguk hated when guys were overbearing. So he’d taken the initiative to snatch you away from that fellow, guiding you all the way back to Dahyun and friends just to make sure you were alright. Somewhere along the way, you’d informed him you worked at the local library—”The one that does bingo on Tuesdays?” “That’s for senior citizens only, why do you know that?”—and he’d never left you alone again.

This time, he spots you in the dining hall.

“You come here often, dollface?” He says the moment he slides up beside you, instantly zeroing in on the burrito wrap on your plate. Like the little immature baby he is, his hand immediately snakes out to touch the precariously wrapped white tortilla holding the deliciousness inside, and you have to physically slap the offender away. He jumps, bumping into a girl standing in line behind him, not that particularly cares. “So, it’s fuck Jeongguk hours, huh?” He huffs, adorning his face with that uppity glare he mastered from watching Mean Girls on repeat a few months ago.

“Your plate is stacked, but you wanna grab the one thing on mine,” you point out, and his lips curl into a smile at your response. “By the way, your book is past due.”

At this he gasps, all real, no Regina George effects added. “You’re lying,” he chokes, switching his plate to his other hand, and you nearly jump when the muffin balancing dangerously on top shifts. He tugs his phone out of the pocket of his sweats, scanning through his remind app until he sees that his book is overdue by three days. He groans, staring at the ceiling in shame.

You nod, breezing over his inner meltdown. “Was wondering when we were gonna get the wedgie winner, or whatever its called, back.”

He scoffs, giving you an unimpressed glare. “Wrath of the Wicked Wedgie Woman,” he corrects, looking so disappointed that you don’t have these bizarre titles memorized. “For such a pretty librarian, you sure are ignorant to these literary masterpieces.”

This makes you cackle, and your cheeks flush when at least three people turn to stare at your outburst. “You aren’t seriously calling these Captain Underpants books masterpieces,” you snort. Jeongguk shrugs, and you begin to wonder if he really is as airheaded as the characters he admires. “Jeon,” you try to reason, giving him a pleading look, because arguing the credibility of kids novels in line for lunch simply does not seem real. You must have been warped into another dimension where all pretty boys are as dumb as the movies make them out to seem.

“Listen,” he says, smiling when you grow desperate for him to prove you wrong. “I’ve read a lot of good books, but nothing tops a hypnotized superhero principal fighting crime in his underwear.”

You sigh, paying for your meal, and then, surprisingly, waiting for him to pay for his. You tell yourself it’s because you want to finish this conversation, but part of you just genuinely enjoys being in Jeongguk’s presence. Gag.

“I saw you with Beloved last week,” you carry on the second he’s done giving flirty eyes to the middle-aged cashier. “Now that’s a masterpiece.”

He nods in agreement. “But, baby,” he purrs, and the sudden switch from weird, 12 year-old literary enthusiast to grown as hell, suave bastard has you jolting a step that you try to play off by pretending to look at something on the ground. “How else will you remember my face?”

You blank. “What the hell are you talking about.”

Jeongguk gives you a pointed look. “Sweetheart, you wouldn’t remember a damn thing about me if I did what every other stuck-up bastard did trying to pick up chicks at the library.” You tilt your head in confusion. Jeongguk sighs. “If I went in every rainy Friday and checked out a Tale of Two Cities, or Oliver Twist, or some other Charles Dickens shit, you wouldn’t glance my way.”

“Do people still read Dickens?” You say instead, glossing over the fact that apparently Jeongguk’s visits were apparently blatant attempts to flirt with girls. Finally, you find a suitable spot at a long, dinner table so you don’t have to sit completely alone with Jeongguk.

“You know damn well better than I do that that those wannabe sophisticated books have waitlists.” He shoves half a pizza slice into his mouth, and you hate how your eyes immediately laser in on the strong movements of his jaw. “My point is,” he says through a greasy mouthful. “Captain Underpants isn’t glorified by all the tryhards, so when I pick those books, you’re unknowingly more interested in me.”

You cradle your burrito in your palms, rolling his words around your head for a bit. Jeongguk doesn’t particularly seem like he’s awaiting an answer, munching through the mountain of food on his plate as you revel in your thoughts.

It’s right when you go to take your first bite that you finally come to a conclusion. “But have you ever considered I’m interested in you because I think you’re funny?”

Silence. Jeongguk stares at you through his fringe, pizza slice slowly going limp in his hold as he absorbs your words. Before you know it, his ears flush red. He splutters. “I-You think I’m funny?” He asks, cheeks slowly growing rosy as well, and his lips quirk in a cute way to the side, as if he’s trying desperately to hide his excitement.

You nod, because it’s true, why would you lie? “Duh. You come in every week and just talk about your day, Jeongguk,” you say, as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “I think you’re very interesting and entertaining without trying.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, and for the first time, you’re thrown off by how adorable this man looks, lips pressed tight to contain a smile from your compliments.

Realization hits you all at once, but you’ve long since trained in the fluid art of avoiding your emotions.

“There’s a party tonight,” Dahyun announces from her desk, not even bothering to glance at you when you return from the showers. You hum, not really that interested in whatever is going on this fine Thursday evening. You plop down at your own desk, starting your skincare routine.

Dahyun lets you relax in the soothing motions of self care for all of three seconds before she adds, “Jeongguk wanted to know if you’re coming.”

You press down too hard on the pump of your moisturizer, sending a large glomp onto the tips of your fingers. “That’s nice,” you say, trying to play it off, but you doubt Dahyun hadn’t heard the little spaz you had, or that she couldn’t sense the way your body immediately lit aflame at the mention of him and you in the same sentence.

She turns in her seat, and you catch sight of her in your mirror. You avert your eyes right away, because Dahyun had many talents, and her best one was reading your mind with a single gaze. You maintain an aura of unbothered and uninterested, finishing with the rest of your skincare.

Just when you think you’re safe, Dahyun pounces.

“Y’know,” she says, and you can hear the grin in her voice. “He hasn’t slept with anyone in almost a month. In fuckboy time, that’s the equivalent of two years.”

You roll your eyes, putting away your products before trying to busy yourself with anything else. “He probably has, but with people who know how to keep their mouths shut.”

Faintly, you hear Dahyun’s chair scrape against the carpet, and then suddenly she has you in a headlock. “Admit you like Jeongguk or I will throw your toothbrush into the toilet on the third floor.”

You choke, grappling her arms in an attempt to pry her off. “No,” you huff, switching tactics to tangle a hand in her silver locks. “Why would I confess to something that isn’t true?”

She shrieks when you give a sharp tug, sending her careening sideways against the foot of your bed, but not without taking you with her. “You are lying to yourself and to the entire librarian community, you sick fuck.”

You snort. “The fuck does Namjoon have to do with this?”

“He told me Jeongguk’s been bringing you Starbucks.”

Her reveal has you halting in your tracks, cheeks flushing at being exposed. “That gossiping fuck,” you seethe, finally loosening your grip on your friend. Somehow, you’ve ended up sprawled on the floor of her side of the room, nestled into the stupidly fluffy carpet she thrifted. She rolls onto her belly, propping herself up on her elbows to narrow her eyes at you.

“So it’s true,” she sighs. You shrug. “Well,” she claps her hands together. “Shimmy into that sexy dress from Windsor, we’re going out.”

You groan, rolling over in metaphorical agony. “Dude, I just washed my face. No way in hell, I’m putting on makeup now.” She considers your point for negative three seconds.

“The Glow Kit is in my bottom left drawer,” she announces right as she exits the room with her towel and shower essentials in hand.

The Glow Kit is in fact in Dahyun’s drawer, which is a little suspicious considering it’s the same one you thought you lost three months ago. Nonetheless, it never lets you down, and by the time you’re done with your makeup, you’re looking like a shimmering, little succubus in the hot dress from Windsor.

Normally, you and your self-esteem were rivals; never on the same page, always bickering, sworn enemies from birth. But right now, as you admire yourself in the closet mirror, you can’t help but marvel at how good you look in the slightly loose dress.

“Damn,” Dahyun says as soon as she returns, all fluffy in her towel. “You will fuck tonight, or else.”

“Hey, baby,” Jeongguk smiles at you the moment you walk in, hooded eyes raking over your body in an agonizingly slow manner. Dahyun chooses then to do her party trick—disappearing without a word.

“Hi…” you respond, voice meek in this party setting. There’s more people than you anticipated, which is weird because it’s a Thursday and surely some of these people have morning classes. You can’t comment, though, because you’re here knowing damn well you have an eight am tomorrow.

The music is blasting, so loud you can feel the bass shaking the floor, sending jolts up from your toes to your head with every beat. There’s people in every crevice of this household, some even taking refuge on the staircase leading up to the bedrooms. Someone brushes by you, and you instinctively step closer to the wall to avoid being in the way. You should have known Jeongguk would follow.

He ducks down to shout into your ear. “Wasn’t sure if you were coming tonight,” he tells you, right as one of his friends rushes by, thrusting a cup into his hand that Jeongguk doesn’t even stop to question. He takes a sip, then offers you some.

“Dahyun didn’t wanna come alone,” you lie, tentatively sipping from his cup only to realize it’s worse than any alcohol here: it’s Sprite. Jeongguk seems amused by your subtle disgust, immediately taking the cup back. You send out a light prayer for his stomach and his skin. “Aren’t you supposed to be out pulling hoes or something?” You say, trying to go for teasing and playful but missing by a mile.

Jeongguk grins. “Why would I do that when the only girl I want is right here,” he motions, and then does that cliche move where he places a hand by the wall behind you. The worst thing is, even though Jeongguk seems intent on pulling every cheesy act known to mankind, your heart actually races.

“Shut up,” you laugh, “you just like that I don’t charge you the late fees on your books.”

At this, Jeongguk genuinely smiles, nose scrunching up as he gazes at you. “False,” he argues, and then leans forward, same stupid dopey smile on his face. “I love a woman who snorts milk out of her nose.”

“Jeon!” You shriek, smacking his arm as embarrassment washes over you. “You said you would forget about that!”

Jeongguk cackles, all boyish and rough like he does when he’s around Hoseok for too long. Somehow, knowing you’re the cause of that charming laughter has your annoyance fading away, a soft smile crawling onto your features.

“I hate you,” you say instead, looking up and meeting his gaze dead on for the first time that night.

Jeongguk smirks. “Do you now?” He throws back, then takes a step forward. Your shoulder touches the wall when you take a tentative step back. You give a half-assed shrug, entranced by the playfulness that lurks behind his eyes. He gives you an exaggerated pout. “That sucks, because I,” he steps closer again, and this time he’s looking down at you over the bridge of his nose, “really like you.”

“I…” you trail off, too hypnotized by the pink tongue that swipes across his lips as he gazes at you. There is no hesitation on his face.

When you don’t say anything for another moment, Jeongguk ducks down. His nose bumps against yours, his breath warm as it fans across your face. “Y’know, I’d treat you so right,” he suddenly says, and your panties immediately turn into Niagara Falls at the newfound deepness of his voice. You feel lightheaded from his close proximity and promising words. “Could make you feel so good, baby, if you just let me.”

You shiver, nearly jumping out of your skin when a hand snakes its way around your waist, tugging you forward gently. Not overbearingly, because you know the last thing Jeongguk would ever do was want to make you uncomfortable. He pulls you close enough that it ends up being you who steps completely into his embrace. Your trembling hands find their place on his shoulders, and Jeongguk has never looked more content.

“You... only want sex,” you softly accuse, and the only reason your quiet voice doesn’t get lost in the noise is because of how close the two of you are.

Jeongguk bites his lip at your words, and you wonder if part of him is surprised that you’d so openly say such a thing. “Not with you,” he says eventually. “Wanna hold you like this forever, ___. And if that leads to you cumming on my tongue every now and then, well,” he smiles, “all fine by me.”

“Jeon,” you scold, scared that someone might have heard him.

“What?” He grins, pressing impossibly closer. His lip gives the slightest pucker, and you find yourself unconsciously leaning closer, the hand around your waist tightening. “I want you, baby.”

You can’t hide the lovestruck expression on your face as you look between his mouth and his eyes, and you wonder if he’s being honest.

Right as you’re about to throw all your doubts out the window and kiss him, you’re bombarded with the sound of obnoxious air horns from a DJ who obviously knows shit about, well, DJ-ing.

You jump at the sudden sound, bumping your head against the wall behind you. Jeongguk’s eyes widen. “Oh shit, are you okay?” He fusses, all traces of that suave, heartthrob replaced with a fretful Jeon.

“I’m fine,” you say, though you’re not because you’re absolutely dying right now. From the fact you almost gave into Jeongguk but also the embarrassment of hitting your head. “I-I need to find Dahyun,” you announce, and give Jeongguk no time to process that before you’re bolting into the crowded house like you just broke something.

jeon tell me you got home safe jeon please

You pause in the middle of removing your makeup, one eyelash on to symbolize the mess you are right now. Dahyun is humming some tune as she does the same, the both of you clad in your pajamas and fuzzy socks. Carefully, you pick up your phone.

you im home! me and the girls ubered home lol you sorry i didnt get to say goodbye :(

jeon dont worry abt it babe jeon just happy to know ur ok

“You better be texting Jeongguk, since you failed to complete the one job you had tonight,” Dahyun calls and you curse. You whirl around to face her, and she snorts at your one eyelash.

“Be honest,” you say. “If you were the campus crush who could get coochie every time he breathed, would you leave all that for me?”

Dahyun freezes. “Well, not when you’re only wearing one eyelash.” You groan, flopping into your seat uncomfortably. “Babe,” Dahyun sighs, as if sensing the gravity of your dilemma. “You’re hot! Everyone knows this except you.”

“But am I?” You whine. “Am I attractive or do you just feel obligated to say that because you’re my friend, be honest.”

“Oh my god,” she huffs, climbing into her bed, phone in hand. She doesn’t even bother looking your way when she’s all settled in. “You have this weird idea that Jeongguk is some intangible idol, as if you haven’t seen the dude deepthroat an entire bratwurst at the diversity fair. If anything, you’re the dream girl on campus, you stupid bitch.”

“The only true thing I heard is me being a stupid bitch,” you mope, and Dahyun throws a pillow at your face. You take this attack as initiative to finally take off your other lash, finishing your cleansing and moisturizing (for the second time) routine.

“Listen,” she says, setting her phone down to stare you dead in the eye. Her voice is devoid of any emotion. “If it makes you feel better, he wrote JK + __ on our group handout last week.”

You don’t sleep that night.

The last person you’re expecting to see at this secluded cafe on a Saturday morning was Jeon Jeongguk, yet here he was in all his delicious morning glory. By morning glory, you mean the soft, sleepy eyes that stare at you from across the table, voice so deep and husky.

“Why are you here if you just woke up?” You interrogate, settling into the empty seat in front of him. Carefully, you begin pulling things out of your bag, trying your best to not look away too long. This sight was rare, Jeongguk usually being at an energy level of about eighty seven at all times. To see him so tired and sluggish was unheard of.

He gestures over to where Taehyung is in the middle of what looks like a job interview. “Moral support,” Jeongguk informs you. You nod in understanding, before returning your gaze to the sleepy angel in front of you.

He’s ridiculously tired, eyes dropping shut every time you so much as pause for a second. He seems apologetic too, murmuring I’m sorry I’m sorry whenever his eyes flutter shut. Your heart was going haywire at the sight. “Jeon,” you say softly, and get one, soft hum in response. “I think you should go home, Taehyung seems fine.”

He shakes his head. “Needs me,” he murmurs, trying desperately to snap his eyes back open to no avail. Eventually, you make the call, packing your things up way earlier than usual. You haul Jeongguk out of his seat, him sleepily trailing after you as you drag him out of the shop. He sleeps on the short bus ride back to campus, and even almost sleeps on the elevator up to his dorm.

“In we go,” you announce, unlocking his door before nudging him inside. His roommate is nowhere to be found, oddly enough given the early hour. Jeongguk stumbles inside, plopping down on his bed right away. “Sleep.”

He lets out a high pitched whine the moment you turn to leave. “Come cuddle,” he huffs, face pressed against his pillow. His hair’s haloed around him, pout smushed against the cushion as he stares at you.

“You need to sleep,” you point out.

He rolls onto his back, patting the mattress beside him. “Wanna feel you,” he says. Your cheeks flush red. As if realizing the meaning behind his words, sleepy little Jeongguk takes the initiative to push you further. “Pressed against my body,” he drawls, his deep chuckle resonating throughout your body. “C’mon, baby, too scared to be in bed with me?”

You scoff, though your cheeks are warm. “You wouldn’t do anything anyway, you’re half asleep.”

Jeongguk shrugs, lips quirking to the side as he motions to his side again. “So? Can tell you like it slow anyway,” he grunts, before sitting up and shuffling to the edge of the bed and assuming a sitting position. Without warning, he catches your wrist in his hand and tugs you between his spread thighs.

He’s more awake than he’s been all morning, and part of you is happy but the other is anxious. God, was this boy dangerous.

“You’re half asleep, Jeon,” you say, trying to diffuse the sudden sexual tension. Jeongguk smiles up at you.

“Cmon, baby,” he exhales, and one fluid tug has you plopping onto his thigh. You startle at the sudden change, grabbing onto his shoulders for support. All he does is laugh some more, nuzzling his face against your neck as your heart goes into panic mode. “Bet I could get in so deep,” he murmurs, breath tickling your neck and you feel your legs turn to jelly.

“G-Gguk,” you try to warn, but it ends up sounding more like a plea. For what, you’re not entirely sure.

A sudden kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulder has your spirit ascending into another plane. Jeongguk smiles at your pliant body. “Look at you,” he continues, kissing down your neck until your body is physically quivering. “So sensitive. No one ever touched you like this before, doll?”

You shake your head no, and nearly jump out of your own skin when a hand clasps onto the inside of your thigh. “Jeon, we shouldn’t…” you choke out, even though your traitorous hand clamps down on his and pushes it closer to where you need him most.

“We shouldn’t?” He teases, and then cups your sex.

You transcend.

Jeongguk laughs, airy chuckles fanning across your jaw. “Then stop,” he tells you, the both of you watching as your hips unconsciously grind into his palm. Even when you tell yourself you need to stop, your body feels heavenly being touched by him, so you physically can’t.

“I can’t,” you reiterate, and muffle a moan against the side of his face when he presses a finger down on where he knows your clit is hiding. The thin leggings you’d worn did nothing to spare you.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy,” he sighs, watching you work yourself on his hand. He traces his index finger over the seam of your leggings, where your folds meet and you moan again. “You gonna let me finish you off, princess? Gonna let me finger your tight little pussy until you cry? But I bet you’d make the prettiest noises if I licked you down there. Or are you gonna cum in your panties like this?”

All the different ideas he stuffs into your brain are overwhelming, especially when the only thing you really want is to be stuffed with his fingers and cock. “J-Just do it,” you beg.

“Do what?” He plays, watching the way your face contorted with every brush against your mound.

“Whatever you want,” you cry, biting down on your fist to stop any more noises from spilling out.

Jeongguk smiles, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Such a simple gesture, but it has your stomach somersaulting. God, you needed this. You were practically sobbing for his dick, which was embarrassing in itself, but actually getting dicked down sort of cancelled it out. PEMDAS or whatever. 

Just as his hand creeps to the hem of your leggings, there’s a rattle of the doorknob, and you jump. The cloud of lust that had engulfed you two fades away and you’re suddenly aware of the jingling of a key outside.

“What the fuck,” Jeongguk whisper-shouts, looking absolutely scandalized that his roommate is coming home at this moment of all moments.

“Should I hide?” You whisper back, never having been in such a situation before. Jeongguk looks at you like you’re stupid.

“Just,” he sighs, standing up. He ruffles his hair anxiously. “Just… act natural.”

You sit perfectly still. “Not like a Sim!!”

“Captain Underpants and the Invasion of the Incredibly Naughty Cafeteria Ladies from Outer Space (and the Subsequent Assault of the Equally Evil Lunchroom Zombie Nerds),” you read, gasping for breath by the end of it. Jeongguk beams at you. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Nope,” Jeongguk says, leaning over the counter and watching as you scan his book under his name. “I’ll let you know how it is.”

You roll your eyes, writing down the return date on a piece of paper you stuff inside. “Please do, I’m absolutely dying to read this book.”

You hand the book over to Jeongguk, and try to ignore the way he stares at you for a second too long. Namjoon chooses this exact moment to take his lunch break, sauntering off whistling the the Angry Birds tune.

Right before Jeongguk can jump into an interrogation, the door swings open and Jisoo from your sociology elective saunters in, carrying the same mountain of books you had checked out for her two weeks ago.

“___, hi!” She exclaims right away. She, too, was infected with the same bimbo disease as Jeongguk, the one where they both had no concept of being quiet in a library.

“Hi,” you greet back, immediately standing to take the books from her. “Did you actually read through all of these?” You ask, trying to make polite small talk. You’re not particularly close to her, but it’d be rude to act like you didn’t know her.

She laughs at your comment. “Oh god, no. I just open random pages and reference them for essays,” she admits.

You try to make more small talk with her as you scan through her books, but the girl literally almost hit the material limit, which is fifty books, so you soon become consumed in scanning the barcode, briefly flipping through the book for any damage, and then repeating it all over. You’re not surprised when she drifts away, and you’re mentally cursing Namjoon for going on break now of all times.

It’s about ten minutes later when you’re all done, the computer’s library system going haywire on you, the same way it had when she first checked out all these books. You look away from the screen, standing to face Jisoo, only to find she’s drifted to the other end of the welcome desk, where a certain someone had gone to while you served her.

Oh.

You’re not anticipating the wave of jealousy that hits you watching gorgeous, smart Jisoo talk to Jeongguk. She matches him perfectly, both so beautiful it hurts. It’s when she says something to him that you snap out of it. “When can I come over again?” Soft enough that you wouldn’t have heard if you hadn’t been paying attention.

Jeongguk’s toying with a bookmark stand, but you still see the quirk of his lips on his face when she says that.

All you can do is watch from the sidelines, so close yet somehow miles away as he says something back to her that gets drowned out by the thundering of your heart. You suppose it’s only natural for a guy like Jeongguk to flirt with girls, and he’d never said he only, exclusively wanted you. Really, you shouldn’t be as surprised.

But you are.

You’re surprised and, dare you say it, discouraged by the scene. He’d been so eager to finally win you over the other night, so much so that he made you feel special with every word he uttered and every look he gave you. You’d almost believed in his sincerity, but seeing him so easily converse with Jisoo about whatever past they have, served as a cold reminder that you and Jeongguk believe in two completely different relationship styles.

So you sit back down, gnawing on your lip as you try to do other duties, clicking around uselessly on your computer until eventually, Jisoo wanders back.

“Am I all set?” She smiles, and you can’t even find it in you to dislike her. You plaster on your best customer service smile, nodding and handing her back her library card. She thanks you three times over for the hassle, before waving goodbye to you and Jeongguk.

When the door falls shut behind her, you immediately drop the facade, though Jeongguk doesn’t seem to notice. “Whew. She left a lot of work for you,” he laughs, eyeing the big stack beside you. You don’t even bother responding, as, at that moment, Namjoon returns from his lunch break.

(How convenient! You swear this fucker had a sixth sense for knowing when work was about to become hard.)

“Joon, I’m taking my break now,” you announce, and Namjoon stares at you like a deer in headlights, the last bite of a sandwich raised to his mouth.

“Uh,” he says, 140 IQ and all. He glances behind you at Jeongguk, who also is confused as all hell. “Okay, then.”

“___?” Jeongguk questions. You stalk off, pushing the gate away from the desk before bursting into the employee break room right across from it.

You cry the moment you get home, and Dahyun jumps ten feet out of her bed in shock. Her girlfriend, Momo, is sitting on the floor painting her toes. “Oh no,” she cries, sweet and understanding in all the ways Dahyun wasn’t. “My poor baby, what’s wrong?” She asks, waddling over in the my-nail-polish-hasn’t-dried-yet way to hug you.

“He was flirting with another girl,” you sob, dropping your bag by the door as Momo continues fawning over you, wiping your face with tissues. Dahyun gets out of bed, cracks her fingers, and promptly announces:

“I’m gonna kill him.”

Initially, you would have let her. But after a while you manage to calm down, loud Kim Kardashian sobs fading into tiny hiccups as the two of them coddle you. You tell them all about what terrible, good for nothing Jeongguk did, and in true female solidarity, they vow to kick his ass for you. Eventually, you settle on not whooping his ass, just cutting any romantic notions with him off to avoid further heartbreak. After all, you were kinda friends before you had your little crush revelation.

It’s later in the night when you announce you maybe got 2% over him, which the girls count as an absolute win, but then Jeongguk texts you and they groan at the way you jump for your phone.

jeon hey can we talk ? jeon did I do something wrong today? jeon felt like u were mad at me lol, and then u took a really long break and I had to leave for class so I didn’t even get to see u again jeon just wanna know if everything is ok

You read through the messages a couple times, and wonder if he’s being serious and didn’t see anything sus with his actions, or if he’s just toying with your emotions. Momo tugs Dahyun away to give you some sort of privacy, and then you’re left alone in your thoughts.

you everything’s fine ! you I just wasn’t feeling well lol

He responds right away.

jeon please don’t lie to me ___ jeon I know what you’re probably thinking and I just want to say it’s not like that

For some reason, him saying he knows you enough to know your thoughts irritates you. He obviously didn’t know shit about you if he was out here making you look like a clown. Your fingers type before you can even think.

you lmao you thats funny

jeon ?

you you most def do not know what I’m thinking so please just take my word when I say I felt sick

jeon lmao. what do you mean...

you you barely know ME besides the fact I work @ the library and dorm w Dahyun. don't say u know what I’m thinking, bc that would imply you know me on a closer level which you don’t

jeon ok seriously what's up with you?  jeon im trying to make sure ur okay but ur just being difficult as fuck

you I’m not being difficult I’m just being real

jeon ur not tho, ur being defensive for no reason at all

you so? we’re barely friends and we barely know each other, how I feel is none of ur business

jeon lmfaoooo, so now we’re barely friends?

you thats what I said didnt I

You set your phone aside when you don’t immediately see the texting dots appear, assuming your dry response is probably enough to ward Jeongguk off. Your face feels warm, and you’re not sure if it’s from frustration or anger, but you guess it’s both. You’re not sure what set you off, the fact Jeongguk wants to act like he knows you, as if he wasn’t just chasing after you for some pussy, or the fact he wanted to act like some all-knowing being when it came to your feelings.

Eitherway, you’re extremely heated, grinding your teeth together when five minutes pass and he hasn’t texted you back. As if sensing the tension, Momo and Dahyun abruptly announce that they’re going to the ice cream place down the street, offering to bring something back to which you decline.

They leave, the heavy door slamming shut behind them. You get exactly two seconds of peace and quiet before your phone starts going off like crazy, all from Jeongguk.

jeon you’re starting to piss me off jeon drop the attitude baby. jeon bc I can be just as mean as u jeon and I won’t hesitate to make you cry

You blink. Every ounce of your body that had been consumed with an unknown anger slowly fades away as you stare wide eyed at Jeongguk’s messages. This was nothing like the Jeongguk you knew; he was soft and playful. He never raised his voice at you, and he’d never been anything less than a sweetheart.

you I don’t have an attitude

Is your feeble reply, too scared to reply to any other part of his message because you truly had no experience with this Jeongguk.

jeon so then put your big girl pants on and tell me what’s wrong jeon enough w this other shit

You sigh, snuggling into your covers as you absentmindedly tap the back of your phone.

you nothing is wrong

He doesn’t reply for a couple minutes again, but Dahyun sends you a text letting you know her and Momo decided to go to an event on the other side of campus, and telling you not to wait up. You reply back a simple ok right as Jeongguk responds.

jeon ok. so let me tell you what’s wrong then jeon you’re mad bc I was speaking to Jisoo today and she asked abt coming over jeon she comes over all the time jeon bc she is my roommates girlfriend

Your mind goes blank.

How embarrassing to have your mind read word for word, even more so when apparently, your worries weren’t even plausible. God. Instantly you feel stupid, replaying today’s entire scene and trying desperately to find something to catch Jeongguk in a lie. But other than asking that one question, there had been no other interesting talk between the two.

Your phone pings again, and you scramble to type a response, only to freeze at the words on the screen

jeon what blows me is that i don’t even owe u shit especially not an explanation jeon u don’t give 2 flying fucks about me. U just like the attention I give u and watching me make a fool of myself for u jeon I bend over backwards chasing after you, trying to get you to notice me, but you’ve done nothing to show me u feel the same jeon but you’re the one allowed to get mad when I speak to other girls? like u said “ that’s funny ”

Oh, no. Immediately your heart comes crashing down, and your fingers tremble as you watch Jeongguk slip away right before your eyes.

you Jeongguk you it’s not like that please you I like you so much, it’s just hard for me to

jeon to what? Get over your stupid stereotype of me?? jeon lmfao. Yeah that must be sooo hard jeon it’s whatever tho bc I had one of u too jeon my dream girl

This is not what you expected when he said he’d make you cry.

“Honey, you just have to talk to him,” Momo says the next morning, pressing a cucumber slice onto your eyes. You flinch at the initial iciness, but then relax when she brushes your hair out of your face. You’d gone to sleep a wreck, crying and sobbing as you thought desperately on how to win Jeongguk back, but everything he had said was true.

You’d done nothing but reject him since the beginning, had only just begun treating him as a friend, yet you instantly placed the blame on him at the first signs of trouble. God, he was right. You’d been selfish this entire time, and now he wasn’t responding to your messages anymore.

Dahyun nods from her cocoon at the foot of your bed. “I’m sure it’ll be easier in person, text convos are always weird,” she tries to comfort you. “But keep those slices on, those bags under your eyes are no joke.”

Momo smacks her calf. “Be nice! She’s going through a crisis.”

Right as you’re about to pay for your meal and sprint back to hide in your dorm, you spot a coconut head of hair facing the windows in the far corner of the dining hall. Fuck. Faintly, you can hear Dahyun’s voice shouting for you to stop being a pussy and go talk to him. You pause by the exit, one leg in one leg out, before saying fuck it. If worse comes to worse, you transfer schools and live with heartbreak and three cats for the rest of your life.

“I-Is someone sitting here?” You say before you can chicken out, and mentally curse yourself for stuttering. Oh, the social horror.

Jeongguk visibly jumps at your voice, wide doe eyes staring at you as if he expected to never see you again. After all, it’s been a week since your little fight, three days since you last tried texting him. He shakes his head, turning his attention back to his plate, but not before tugging the hoodie of his sweater over his head in a classic self defensive tactic.

You slide into the seat, staring at the plate of food like you’ve never seen it in your life, never mind the fact you picked it out less than fifteen minutes ago. You accidentally scrape your fork against the bottom, and the both of you cringe.

Jeongguk clears his throat, hands clasped together between his thighs as he stares out the window. “Don’t you have work?” He asks, voice raspy.

You shake your head. “I took the week off,” you confess, hoping he doesn’t press for more, because then you’d have to tell him your reasoning was due to heartache.

“Oh. That’s nice,” he says, and then you fall into a pit of awkward silence.

You push the food around on your plate, hoping he’ll say something, anything to save the two of you. In the end, he stays silent, sleepily glancing out the windows.

When you look closer, though, Jeongguk doesn’t look much hot than you. He’s got the same bags as you under his eyes, and his hair looks messier than his usual messy style. The fact he’s wearing his blue crocs out in public only confirms your theory.

After a solid five minutes of silence, even your hungry stomach managing to stay quiet, you decide enough is enough.

You shift ever so slightly, until you’re somewhat facing him and clear your throat; Jeongguk barely spares you a glance. “The Preposterous Plight of the Purple Potty People,” you blurt. Jeongguk blinks, face slowly morphing into one of confusion. Your cheeks feel hot under his gaze, having missed his brown eyes in the past week. “It’s your favorite one,” you announce. “Of the Captain Underpants books.”

After a moment, Jeongguk snorts, turning his attention away from you. “You’re not gonna win me over with that,” he says curtly, and your heart tightens at his emotionless tone of voice.

But you’ve done your research, and you’re not letting it go to waste. “You like George more than Harold because you think he contributes more. You love the characterization of Mr. Krupp the most, but you hate his theme song. You think the cover art could use some work, but you enjoy the overall art style. You hated the movie adaptation because Kevin Hart was in it,” you list, recalling every bit of information you’ve ever heard Jeongguk share about the stupid novels.

There’s a small quirk in the corner of Jeongguk’s lips, but it’s not the one you’re aiming for, so you switch tactics. “You hate the smell of bananas because you don’t think it should have a smell. You can’t put your left sock on first, because it’s bad luck to you. Your mom still washes your sheets for you. You know the lyrics to the original Dragon Ball series in three languages. You like wearing rings because it makes you feel like a pimp. You hate when Hoseok calls you the baby, because, according to you, you bench press his weight times two.”

“And a half,” he softly corrects, gazing at his hands, cheeks slightly tinged with red. You bite your lip, tentatively reaching a hand out to place on his arm. He looks at you right away, doe eyes so vulnerable and scared, like nothing you’ve ever seen before.

“I said we barely knew each other, but that was a lie,” you chuckle humorlessly, suddenly feeling your eyes tear up just remembering the conversation. “I know so much about you because I love listening to you talk. I love hearing your voice, and watching you wrestle with your friends, and fight with Dahyun. But I never tell you,” you bite your lip, blinking your eyes to backtrack the tears.

“And you’re right, I made you do all the work and I’m sorry, but I’m just so scared, Jeongguk,” you admit, voice cracking on his name. Your press a hand over your mouth, trying to collect yourself. Suddenly, a soft hand gently pats your thigh, and you find yourself reaching down to tangle your fingers together. “You can have anyone, Jeongguk, and you obviously know this,” you sigh. “I’m scared that I won’t be enough for you.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Jeongguk says, voice soft in the way you’ve missed so much. His hand, shaky and unsure, reaches up to brush a tear from the corner of your eye. “Look at me,” he commands, and you do. “I think we’re both stupid, because I feel like I’ve never been enough for you,” he confesses with a chuckle you try to replicate through sniffles.

Suddenly, he’s close, forehead pressed to yours. “And maybe it’s true,” he says. “You won’t be enough for me, and I’ve never been enough for you.” Your heart aches at his words. “But that’s okay,” he assures, squeezing your thigh between his fingers. “We don't have to be right now, but we can try.”

You nod, clamping down a sob. “God, I hate how optimistic you are,” you laugh, and he smiles, cupping your face in his hands.

“And I hate watching you cry,” he says, fingers wiping your cheeks. Before you can say what you’re thinking, he’s snatching the words right out of you, “yes, I know I said what I said, and I felt like such a dick typing it, I made Jimin flick my forehead right after.”

You giggle, and he beams that dreamy smile at you again. “I’m gonna kiss you now,” he announces, and your heart thunders in your chest faster than the wings of a hummingbird.

And he does.

“I don’t know, I think Kevin Hart sounds great in this,” you mention, and you feel the hard scoff Jeongguk lets out from your position cradled on his chest. “It’s not the worst thing in the world,” you defend.

“You’re sick,” he says, then pauses the Captain Underpants movie to engage in your third debate of the evening. You’re barely fifteen minutes in. “You think that weirdo did George justice? How? In what world?”

“Babe, it’s just a voice actor,” you placate. “No one died because Mr. Hart voiced him.”

Jeongguk splutters. “Mr. Hart—you don’t know this man! And something did die! My hopes for a sequel!”

You shush him, pressing your index finger to his lips. “Enough complaints, Rotten Tomatoes. We won’t even finish at this rate.”

Jeongguk hits play, grumbling under his breath.

Just as you’d predicted, you don’t even make it to the halfway mark before Jeongguk’s got you on your back, plush lips working yours until they’re bruised, tongue halfway down your throat. “The mov—“ you mumble.

“Fuck Mr. Hart,” Jeongguk says, kissing down your jaw like he can’t allow himself to miss a single spot. When he reaches the collar of your shirt, he wastes no time tugging it off of you. You whine, instinctively covering your chest. “Don’t be shy,” he chuckles, “here, look-,” he tugs his sweatshirt over his head, and you’re met with the strong muscles of his abdomen and pecs, “-twins.”

You roll your eyes. “Just kiss me, Mr. Jeon,” you tease, wrapping your hands around him to bring him closer. He chokes, and mumbles something about saving that for another time.

Before you know it, he’s kissing between your thighs, soft lips producing the most erotic sounds with every smooch he gives. “Can I take these off?” he asks, one lone finger creeping beneath the hem of your panties, right where your hip is. You nod, biting your lower lip hard the moment he begins sliding them down. His hands are soft as they glide over your legs, and when he finally tugs them away from your ankles, he wastes no time nudging your legs open for him.

“Don’t just look at it,” you whine, jabbing his ribs with your foot. Jeongguk grins.

“Sorry I stare, you’re just so pretty,” he smiles, and you muffle an annoyed groan into your palms. “Gonna eat you out now,” he announces, finally, and you uncover your face to watch the way he lowers his mouth onto your throbbing pussy, pink tongue coming out to lick at your clit.

The first press of the wet muscle has your toes curling, back arched. You’d been craving this for the longest, and just as you’d expect, it’s better than any fantasy. “Right there,” you moan, reaching down to tangle a hand in Jeongguk’s wavy hair, the other fisting the pillow beneath your head.

Jeongguk absorbs all your tiny reactions, toying with your clit just how you like it. He rolls his tongue around it, making sure every part has been in his mouth at least once. When he suctions his lips around it and moans like this was getting him off, your body melts. “Fuck,” you cry out, your thighs quivering around his head. Part of you wants to slam them shut, hide from his tongue and all its devious ministrations. But the other part has never felt so good in your entire life.

When Jeongguk decides he’s pampered your swollen clit enough, he gives it one final kiss, wet and slippery. “Good?” He smiles up at you, lips slick with your juices. You nod, probably already looking fucked out. He smirks at your response, and your heart backflips in your chest, when he reaches up to knot your fingers together.

He kisses your knuckle and you whine. “How many fingers do you want?” He asks, and you blurt out the first number you can think of.

“Eight,” you choke, and immediately flush in embarrassment afterwards.

Jeongguk laughs, dropping his head to your thigh in a fit of giggles. He looks absolutely ethereal there, soft brown hair sprawled across your skin like an angel. “Smaller numbers, baby, please,” he chuckles. You shrug, so he decides for you. “How about I just use my tongue instead?” You think you might love him.

He settles back down, lips pressing against your mound one final time, before he’s diving in. You mewl right away, body becoming one with the mattress beneath you at the first brush of his tongue.

“Oh, Jeongguk,” you gasp, hands burying themselves in his scalp again. He hums in response, and the sound has every nerve in your body lighting up. His tongue prods against your folds, slowly licking his way deeper and deeper into your cunt.

The worst comes when he sighs against your pussy, literally sighs, like he’s so blessed to be there. “You’re s-so good at this,” you cry out, trembling fingers twisting his hair so tightly that you manage to pull him off just an inch. He pinches your thigh in warning, before stuffing his tongue into you again, absolutely plunging into the depths of your hole.

Just when you think he couldn’t possibly outdo this, he jolts up suddenly, nose brushing against your clit. His eyes go wide for the slightest second, as if he really hadn’t planned that, before flickering at you.

To your utter embarrassment, he takes one long whiff, eyes rolling to the back of his head in pleasure.

He pulls away from your dripping hole. “You smell so fucking good,” he informs you, spreading a fiery blush across your cheeks.

“Thanks?” You say, and he grins, shuffling onto his knees all of a sudden. You mope the loss of his tongue on your pussy, but forget about it the second he reaches for his desk and returns with a condom.

He tears the foil packet open with gentle hands, eyes weirdly zeroed in on that only. You nudge his hip, and when he meets your gaze, he instantly averts it. Like he’s suddenly shy.

Oh he was gonna be the death of you.

You tug his boxers down and get to revel in more of those bashful glances, but you soon forget about that when he grips his rock hard member in one hand, jacking it to its full potential. “Ready?” He says, one hand gripping your hip, the other his cock. You nod, and then shift up onto your elbows to watch him sink into you.

You can barely keep your eyes open, the second the tip of his cock brushes against you your eyes roll back into your head. You moan, letting yourself flop back against the mattress, chest heaving with each inch he sinks in. “Fuck, you’re big,” you cry, biting down on your fist.

Jeongguk chuckles. “Yeah?” He grunts, and then stills as he waits for you to catch your breath. He gives you exactly four seconds before he’s thrusting the remainder of the way in.

Your back arches off the bed, a high-pitched moan ripping itself out of your throat. “Jeon!”

“Relax, relax,” he croons, releasing your hip to lean over you, peppering your face in kisses. You’re heaving for air, so overwhelmed with emotions. “You’re doing so good for me, doll,” he comforts, kissing every inch of you until you regain your wits. “So wet and warm for me, you have no idea how bad I wanna just ram my cock into your tight, little pussy.”

You huff, heart still skipping by the time you grow familiar with the sheer size of his dick inside of you. When you’ve finally come back down to earth, eyes fluttering at Jeongguk, he gives you one affirmative nod before he begins really fucking you.

He starts carefully, like he’s afraid he’ll break you with one push. You’re thankful that he’s at least somewhat aware of his own bear strength, but you’d prefer if he picked up the pace. Before you can file a complaint, he’s hiking your thigh up onto the crease of his elbow, and ramming himself into you.

“Could already hear some smart ass comment coming,” he groans, snapping his hips into you with a newfound intensity. You moan, trying desperately to reciprocate some movements back.

“Wasn’t gonna say anything,” you gasp, fingernails digging into the skin of his shoulders, scratching lone lines down his back. Jeongguk snorts, pushing in, and then grinding your pelvises together deliciously.

He rolls his eyes, then chooses that exact moment to capture your lips in his. You groan softly, body boneless beneath him at the gentle way he kisses you, like his entire life depends on this single kiss.

When he finally releases your lips, he’s huffing against your mouth, hips having not stopped a single time. You know he’s tired and so riled up; you’d felt the brush of his half-hard member from the moment you first laid down to watch the movie.

But Jeongguk was a gentleman, through and through. You’d felt the brush of his cock, and heard the thundering of his heart, but he hadn’t pushed you further a single time. He basked in your presence, waiting until you crept your hand beneath his shirt to finally pounce.

“I’m close,” you tell him, reaching down to toy with your clit. Jeongguk had treated it like the finest treasure earlier, but now your gentle caresses feel mediocre compared to the way he’d touched it. Jeongguk nods, the tips of his wavy hair sticking to his forehead and the back of his neck. You abandon your quest to finish yourself off and focus on brushing his hair away from his face. “You’re so good to me,” you moan, lightly picking the corner of his mouth. “Don’t deserve you.”

He rams his cock into you, the arm not holding up your thigh weakening, until he’s leaning on his forearm over you. “Don’t say that,” he chokes out, and you wonder if his orgasm is as close as yours.

A particular brush of his cock against your cervix has you seeing stars, thighs clenching around him. “Just a little bit—more,” you beg, body writhing beneath him, pushing yourself up to meet his thrusts.

“So perfect,” he praises, kissing along your jaw. “Come for me, baby.”

You nod, but not before cupping his face in your hands, and pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. He makes a soft little sound of surprise, smile pressed against your mouth, and the heat in your abdomen finally explodes. You disassociate for all of one second, consumed in a wave of bliss never before heard of, his pistoning thrusts working you through it.

You nearly cry from how good it feels, throwing an arm around his neck to pull him closer. You’re babbling like an idiot, saying shit you won’t remember later. What you do recall is the chuckles Jeongguk had muffled against your neck, hips never faltering as he chased his own high.

He finds it a few beats later, the muscles of his back suddenly going rigid. He moans your name, somehow making it sound like it’s the best song in the world, before his hips begin stuttering in their mission. He eventually goes slack, slumped over you without completely crushing you beneath the weight of his muscles.

By the time you’ve fully recovered, he’s sliding out of you. Right as you go to speak, he stuffs two fingers into your sensitive cunt. “Jeon!” You wail, reaching down to push him away before you come again.

He snickers. “What? It’d be a waste to let it out,” he says, letting go when he’s decided he’s done his job, popping the digits into his mouth. You groan, trying to quell the excitement that builds in your chest from watching him suck your cum off his fingers.

“You’re the worst,” you sigh, snatching his t-shirt off the edge of the bed to tug over your bare form. Jeongguk tugs his underwear back on, retrieving yours from where he’d flung them across the room. When you’re settled into the blankets again, you’re not expecting the laptop to return as well. You raise a questioning eyebrow.

Jeongguk shrugs, nestling into your chest. “Hit play, this is when Professor Poopy Pants begins attacking the city.”

[dammitdobrik]

Such a Pain | DAVID DOBRIK

Description: Your Soulmate David Dobrik was quite a pain in the ass, both literally and figuratively. A Soulmate AU where you and your true love feel each others' pain and receive each others'  injuries.

Author's Note: This fic will heretofore be known as the Soulmate AU no one asked for but Phoebe wrote anyway because she wanted to. Let me know what ya'll think of this and your favorite Soulmate AU's because who knows I might just write another one ;)

Word Count: 5974

  The first time (Y/N) remembered ever being genuinely concerned about her soulmate’s wellbeing happened a year before they ever met.

She was walking across the campus of USC to her next class when she gasped and dropped her phone with a scream of pain.

The students who flooded the sidewalk at that time of day all turned to stare at (Y/N) as she dropped to her knees and clutched her hand tightly to her chest.

She squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip to stop from crying out again, not wanting to make a bigger scene than she already had.  A sharp stabbing pain reverberated throughout her palm and made it feel as if every nerve were on fire.

“Hey are you alright?” someone asked, squatting down next to her.

She shook her head. “I don’t know my hand-,” (Y/N) gasped out, gritting her teeth.  “-fuck it really hurts.” She pulled it even tighter against her chest as another wave of pain hit her.

They placed a hand gently on her wrist and tapped it. “C’mon let me have a look. I’m a student at the med school here I can help.”

Letting out a shaky breath, (Y/N) opened her eyes and pressed her wrist into his touch so he could examine it. As he gently tugged it away and she unclenched her fingers, (Y/N) was able to get a good look at the injury for the first time.

There was a deep cut running along the palm of her hand from her thumb all the way down across to the base of her inner wrist. It was bleeding profusely. And with a quick glance down to where her hand had been pressed into her chest, (Y/N) realized that her one white shirt was now ruined.

“You’re definitely gonna need stiches,” he said only after a moment of examination. ‘Maybe even a brace to protect it for a bit.”

“Seriously?”

He nodded his head. “You can go ahead and thank your soulmate for this one.”

Until that point, (Y/N)’s soulmate hadn’t given her any injures quite like this one. She used to get scraps on her knees when she was younger and the occasional scratch on the arm from him, but nothing too serious that she had any need to worry.

But this, this was different. This was the first injury she’d received from him that required medical attention.

(Y/N) hoped he was okay; and while she was sitting in the ER later that afternoon waiting to have her hand stitched up, began to think of every scenario possible that could’ve lead to such an injury.

  The first time (Y/N) saw her soulmates face was the night she’s pretty sure he got punched in the face.

She was hunched over her desk focusing solely on the textbook laid out open in front of her. She chewed on the end her pen absentmindedly, waiting for important information to jump out at her so she could write it down in her notes.

That’s when (Y/N)’s head jerked as her face contorted into a wince. A hiss escaped from between her teeth as she reached hand up to cover her mouth instinctively.

A dull pain radiated from her bottom lip and the taste of copper began to fill her mouth. (Y/N) tugged her lip down and picked up her phone to look at it in the reflection of the screen.

There was small cut on the inside of her lip that looked like it came from a harsh impact with her tooth.

The door to her dorm room opened and in came her roommate smelling lightly of alcohol and sweat.

“Hey,” she said, closing the door behind her. She tossed her keys and wallet down on her nightstand and collapsed onto her bed with a thump. “Have you seriously been studying this whole time?” she asked, turning her head to glance at (Y/N). “Wait what are you doing?”

(Y/N) put her phone down and let go her lip, rubbing it lightly. “I think my soulmate might be an asshole.”

“Huh?”

“I’m pretty sure he just got punched in the face,” (Y/N) said, showing her roommate her middle and index finger which were covered lightly in blood from her lip.

Her roommate laughed. “Speaking of assholes,” she said, sitting up on her bed, “-you’re never going to guess who I saw at the party tonight.”

“Who?”

“David Dobrik.”

(Y/N) furrowed her brows and spun her desk chair around to fully face her roommate, her chemistry textbook now long forgotten. “Who?” she repeated.

“You know, the Youtuber? He used to be pretty big on Vine.”

(Y/N) smiled grimly and shook her head. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

She let out a breath of exasperation. “He’s the guy you hear about on campus all the time. Him and friends are the one who show up to all the parties and film people doing crazy shit.”

“Ohhhhhh.” Now that rung a bell. (Y/N) definitely knew who she was talking about now.

David and his friends were a bit of local USC legend. She’d never actually seen them or watched any of their videos because (Y/N) was, as her roommate so nicely put it, a fucking nerd who spent way too much time studying and needed to let loose more.

“Yea. I heard a bunch of screaming coming from another room and when I went to check it out I saw him with his black hat and camera filming his friend making out with a bunch of girls.”

(Y/N) cringed and swiveled her chair back around to get back to work. “Gross.”

“Yea I know.” The bed creaked as her roommate stood up and walked over to (Y/N), slamming her textbook closed.

“Hey!” she yelped in surprise, jerking her hand away before it got crushed. “What was that for?”

“It’s 2 am (Y/N). You’ve been at this for hours I think you’ve done enough,” her roommate said. “I’m gonna take a shower, and when I come back you better be in bed. Okay?”

“But I-“

She pointed at her bed. “Sleep.”

They glared challengingly at each other for a moment, (Y/N) sighing in defeat when she realized her roommate wasn’t ever going to back down.

“Fine,” she conceded, a wave of fatigue hitting her like that punch her soulmate got to the face.

While her roommate was in the shower (Y/N) changed into her pajamas and pulled her (Y/H/C) hair away from her face then hoped into bed, only slightly begrudgingly.

She was sleepy, but not tired enough to pass out just then. It only took a moment of staring at her dimmed phone screen for (Y/N)’s curiosity to get the best of her.

She opened the Youtube app and searched up David Dobrik’s channel.

For the next the hour while her roommate took one of her notoriously long showers (Y/N) watched his vlogs on autoplay. They came on one after another, and she watched in amusement as a few people she knew from her classes made appearances in his clips from parties at USC.

As the sun got closer to rising in the East, her quiet laughs began to come less and less frequently as her eyelids became heavy with sleepiness. She let out a yawn and clicked her phone off for the night just before her roommate came back in from the bathroom.

And if (Y/N) wasn’t so tired that night from hours of studying chemistry, she probably would’ve gone back in his vlogs far enough to watch David cut his hand open with a wine bottle in the exact same place it had happened to her.

And if (Y/N) wasn’t so busy with school from that point on, she probably would’ve watched the vlog he posted the next day titled I GOT HIT IN THE FACE!! AMBULANCE CALLED!!, and realized that David Dobrik might be her soulmate.

But she was tired, and was busy with school, so (Y/N) did neither of those things.

They’d meet eventually, but the night David got punched in the face wasn’t that day.

  The first time (Y/N) met David Dobrik she had no idea that he was her soulmate.

It was the final day of her sophomore year of college, and she was out celebrating with her roommate after having taken their last exams.

(Y/N) had agreed to go with her to one of the many parties being hosted on campus that night, and 15 minutes after leaving her dorm room realized that she would never agree to such a thing again.

She knew that USC was a party school, and that parties at any college could get crazy, but she was in no way near prepared to experience it firsthand.

(Y/N) learned that night that she hated the smell of tequila and that the quietest place to run off to at a frat party was the back yard.

The bass from the speakers that were blasting some random Top 40’s hit track seemed to literally be shaking the walls of the house as she opened the back door and stepped into the fenced off yard.

(Y/N) took in a deep breath of fresh air, hoping to purge her nose of the smell of alcohol. She rubbed her grimy hands against the tight sequined skirt she was wearing and walked further into the yard to sit in one of the outdoor chairs that surrounded a dirty glass table.

It was comforting to know that wherever you went, the same hard metal chairs with minimum cushioning and square foggy glass table would always be in everyone’s back yard.

She sat down with a sigh and wiped a stray strand of hair away from her face. She tilted her head back and looked up at the starless, monochromatic black blob of sky that was above LA. The humidity of the air was almost suffocating.

(Y/N) turned her head at the sound of the patio door sliding open, the music from inside bursting out into the somewhat quiet night air before the door was shut again.

A boy wearing black jeans, a black t shirt, and black hat with tufts of curly hair sticking up from underneath appeared holding a professional looking camera. His face and boyish looking grin that he flashed at (Y/N) seemed very familiar, and it only took a second for it to hit her that this was the infamous David Dobrik.

“Is it okay if I sit?” he asked, gesturing with his free hand to the chair across from hers at the table.

(Y/N) lifted her back up to its normal position and nodded her head. “Go ahead.”

He gave her a quick thank you before sitting down in the chair. They sat in silence for a while, (Y/N) enjoying the weight lifted off her shoulders from the end of exams while David went through his camera footage.

He glanced up at her every now and then as if expecting her to say something, but looked back down at his camera screen quickly when she turned to look at him.

“Yes I know who you are,” (Y/N) said after he did it for the 5th time.

David’s eyes looked up from his camera in surprise.  “I never asked if you did.”

An amused smile graced her lips as she raised an eyebrow. “Yea well, you weren’t asking very loudly.”

He chuckled and clicked a button on his camera to turn it off, putting on the table between them. “Sorry I’m just- well if people don’t greet me because they know who I am they almost always ask about the camera with the microphone on top of it. You did neither so…” David trailed off, shrugging his shoulders.

“What are you doing out here anyway?” she asked. “Shouldn’t you be in there filming some crazy montage or something?”

“I already have enough footage for one” he said with a smile, “- and I don’t have a lot of battery left so I’m saving it for the all the dumb shit my friends are gonna do in about an hour when they’re drunk off their asses.”

David leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs, running a hand through his hair as he took off his hat and set it on the table. The weird shadow that had been casted on his face from it disappeared giving (Y/N) a good view of the light stubble that ran along his jaw.

“So what about you?” he asked, tilting his head to look at her, then repeated her earlier question teasingly. “What are you doing out here anyway?”

(Y/N) shrugged her shoulders and began to pick at her nails which rested in her lap. “My roommate took me out to celebrate taking our last final, but it took me coming to party to realize that I don’t quite like them.”

“They aren’t my favorite thing either, but I do like the stories they bring so I can always suck it for a few hours in the name of good content.”

“You mean clickbait?”

“Same difference.”

They both let out a laugh at that, then settled into a comfortable silence as it echoed off into the night sky.

Soft smiled adorned their faces as they held each other’s’ gaze. (Y/N)’s heart began to beat loudly in her ears as it thumped against her chest.

But if you were to have asked her what that meant she would’ve said it was because she downed a cup of lukewarm beer only 20 minutes prior.

David’s phone rang then, disrupting the trance.

He smiled sheepishly at her and muttered a quick apology before answering.

“Hello? Heath? Wait he’s doing what?”

A loud cheer erupted from inside the house at that moment, and (Y/N) knew that it probably had something to do with what David was talking to Heath about on the phone.

He stood up out of the chair quickly and grabbed his camera. “Be right there,” he said then hung up.

David turned to run back inside but stopped in his tracks right before reaching the door. He turned his head for one last look at (Y/N).

“Y’know, I never did get your name.” He had that confidant, boyish grin back on that always made people bend to his every whim.

“(Y/N),” she said with a smile. “It was nice meeting you David.”

He nodded his head. “You too (Y/N). Duty calls.” He held his camera up as another cheer came from inside the house and went inside without so much as a goodbye.

It wasn’t until he and his friends had already left that (Y/N) realized David left his hat with her.

  The first time (Y/N) and David could’ve found out that they were soulmates happened when they met for a second time.

Classes for her junior year of college had just started a week prior, and (Y/N) was still getting back into the swing of things.

That included remembering to set her alarm so she was up in time for her noon lecture.

(Y/N) was in such a rush having woken up late that she was shoving her notebook and pencils and pens into her bag as she sped walked out of her off campus apartment and onto the street towards her car which was parked a little ways down the road.

That was one of the downsides about not living in a dorm room anymore, the fact that she now had to drive to class instead of just walking. And since USC was in LA and she wasn’t a millionaire, (Y/N) couldn’t afford an apartment that came with parking so she spent at least 15 minutes a day wandering the streets trying to remember where she left her car.

(Y/N) turned around a particularly sharp corner, not watching where she was going, and let out a squeal of surprise as she colliding with someone and knocked her head against their chin.

They both stumbled back with a wince as (Y/N) dropped all her belongings onto the sidewalk.

“Oh shit sorry I’m- here let me help,” a familiar voice said, then leaned down to start gathering the papers before the wind blew them away.

“No it’s fine it’s my fault I wasn’t watching where I was going,” she said doing the same.

(Y/N) stood up straight looked forward right as they did the same and held up the papers they’d gathered.

Her lips parted in surprise at the sight of thier face. “David?”

He squinted his eyes and tilted his head a bit. “(Y/N)?”

If either of them had been paying more attention to the pain they felt from running into each other, they might’ve realized right then that were soulmates.

(Y/N) didn’t think about the pain she felt on her chin even though she’d done nothing to injure it. She didn’t realize that it came from David’s chin knocking into her head.

David didn’t think about the pain he felt on top of his head even though he’d done nothing to injure it. He didn’t realize that it came from (Y/N)’s head knocking into his chin.

And because of that, they went right on talking.

David grinned as look of remembrance overcame his face. “We met at a party a few months ago didn’t we? At USC?”

She nodded her head, taking the papers from him and shoving them into her bag with the others carelessly. The corner of (Y/N)’s lips tugged upwards. “I’m surprised you remember,” she said with a laugh.

He ignored that comment and pursed his lips, hesitating for a moment before asking, “Are you doing anything right now?”

(Y/N) checked her watch and scrunched her nose when she saw the time. “Well I’m supposed to be in physics lecture but seeing as I’m now half an hour late…” she paused and looked back up at David, “No. I’m not doing anything.”

She furrowed her brows at him suspiciously. “Why?”

“I’m actually on my way to get lunch with Matt, Carly, and Erin,” he said, gesturing vaguely in the direction he was heading before they knocked into each other. “You wanna come?”

She repeated herself. “Why?”

David seemed a little taken back by that. “I don’t know you seem pretty cool and I,” he stuttered lamely.

“Yes” (Y/N) interrupted, surprising even herself. “I’ll go.” She gave him a gentle smile. “Thanks for inviting me.”

He nodded his head with a relived smile. “No problem, it’s the least I could do considering how I just kinda ran off last time.”

David gestured for her follow him and they started the trek to the restaurant, arms brushing against each other every few steps. “I think you’re really gonna like them, my friends I mean.”

  The first time (Y/N) thought she and David might be soulmates happened when he wanted redbull.

At that point they had been friends for almost 4 months. (Y/N) had made a few appearances in his vlogs, but she didn’t consider herself a regular because she was so busy with school a majority of the time.

Anytime David decided to go to USC for footage she accompanied him and helped them figure out where the parties were and how to get there. When he was done shooting and his friends wanted to continue partying, they’d do what they did the first time they met and sneak off somewhere quiet to enjoy each other company and talk.

(Y/N) definitely had a crush on David. That much she’d admit.

He was so much fun to be around, and he always managed to make her laugh. They could talk for hours about anything and everything and never grow bored of each other. His smile was contagious, and just being in the same room as him gave her an energy that made (Y/N) think she could take on an army emptyhanded.

It was intoxicating.

And that was a bit of problem, because for all (Y/N) knew at that point, David wasn’t her soulmate. And she was starting to worry about what would happen when she finally met him, if what she felt for David would just go away.

And her biggest problem was that she didn’t want it to, because she loved the feeling she got around David. She could live off it, and never tire of it.

She’d always go straight to his house on Thursday’s after her last class of the week, and hang out with him while he gathered last minute footage for his Friday vlog or simply edited what he already had.

On this Thursday, David already had enough footage for his Friday vlog. He shot with Howie Mandel earlier in the week and had leftover clips of him that he didn’t use in the previous vlog to put in.

(Y/N) was sitting on the couch in David’s living room watching reruns of Parks and Recreation with Zane, Natalie, Jason, and Todd while the owner of the house finished editing his video a few feet away.

Right as the show cut to commercial David shut his laptop with a groan and threw his back against the cushions. “I’m getting some redbull.”

“Hold on let me CNN on the phone,” (Y/N) said in a dramatic voice, pulling out her phone. “They’re never gonna believe this.”

A resounding chuckle erupted from around the room as David stood up off the couch.

“Haha very funny,” he said rolling eyes playfully, then went off into the kitchen.

“Hey,” Zane started, grabbing everyone’s attention. “Did I tell you abou-“

(Y/N) felt the pain in her side right before David’s yelled out from the kitchen, “Ow fuck!”

The way she sucked a breath in between her teeth and winced as her hand went to rub her side in an attempt to soothe the pain radiating from it went unnoticed by everyone around her because they all turned their heads towards the noise.

“You good Dave?” Natalie asked, ever the good friend.

He let out low groan and (Y/N) bit her bottom lip to stop from doing the same. Her side really hurt.

And when Jason asked David what happened, something in her already knew what he was gonna say because it was something everyone had done before in their life and never forgotten; it hurt almost as much as stepping on Legos barefoot.

“I ran my hip into the corner of the island,” he replied, coming into sight. He was holding his redbull in one hand while the other rubbed his side. “Makes me wanna baby proof this fucking house.”

(Y/N) sat up straighter and relaxed her face and body to look the part as if nothing were wrong.

While in reality, her mind was screaming almost as much as her hip was.

This had to be the most coincidental coincidence of all time. David Dobrik couldn’t be her soulmate... could he?

And the more she tried to convince herself that, the more (Y/N) realized that he just might be.

  The first time (Y/N) knew that David was her soulmate was the night Jason had her babysit Wyatt and Charley.

His ex-wife had a date with her boyfriend and asked Jason to watch after the kids for a night because she planned to spend the night at his house (awkward). Jason said yes, but one thing lead to another and he ended up having to go do something with David so (Y/N) graciously offered to watch over them for a few hours until he got back.

They were well behaved, and old enough to not be too much of a hassle. She made them dinner and cleaned up the kitchen before leaving them to their own devices.

When she went upstairs to check on them at 10:30, Charley and Wyatt were both already sound asleep in bed.

She watched TV downstairs for another hour until Jason got back.

He opened and closed the door quietly as to not wake the sleeping children. “Hey,” he said with a smile. “Were they okay?”

(Y/N) nodded her head with light laugh. “Yea perfect, way better than I was a kid I’m sure.”

She got up and turned the TV off then followed him into the kitchen to grab her keys and wallet. And maybe it was because Jason was a dad and old and wise and stuff that (Y/N) felt okay asking him the question that had been setting fire to her head for days at that point.

“Jason?” she asked, sounding a lot more timid then she wanted too.

“Hm?” He turned to look at her. “What’s up?”

“How do you-“ (Y/N) paused and licked her lips. “How do you know, like- for certain, that someone is your soulmate. Like I know there’s the whole pain thing but-“

“Hit yourself in the face,” he said simply, shrugging his shoulders.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m being serious.”

“Me too.” He raised an eyebrow at her questioningly. “Did Scott never tell you the story of how he found out Kirsten was his soulmate?”

She shook her head.

Jason let out a laugh and smiled wistfully as if the memory were his own. “Well, you know they met at Coachella right? And after Scott talked to her for a few minutes he just, I don’t know, got this feeling that she was the one, so he hit himself in the face.”

An amused smile broke out on (Y/N)’s lips. “Seriously?”

“Mhm. And when he looked down to see that she was cursing and rubbing her nose, Scott knew then and there that Kirsten was the one.”

“In a weird way that’s oddly poetic.”

“I know. It’s literally my favorite story of all time.”

Jason studied her a moment then cleared his throat. “But seriously (Y/N), when you know you know. I like to think that the whole pain and injury thing is for the cynics and pessimists who need some kind of proof before taking a leap of faith with someone.

“If you think you’ve met them, then you probably have. There’s nothing quite like it, nothing comes close to it.”

(Y/N) wanted to ask about him about Marney, his ex-wife, because they were soulmates and they didn’t work out. She thought better of it though because honestly, she wasn’t ready to go down that road quite yet.

“So….Who is it?” he asked.

She furrowed her brows. “Who’s what?”

Jason rolled his eyes and gave her a pointed look. “Don’t play dumb with me, I’ve been around long enough to know how this works. You wouldn’t have asked that question if you hadn’t met someone you though had soulmate potential.”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to retort but let out a sigh and relaxed her shoulders. “Okay fine, I have, but I’m not telling you anything.”

“It’s David isn’t it?”

Her lips parted in shock. “How did- how did you know that?” she stammered out, unbelievably surprised.

“I didn’t until just now,” he admitted with a proud smile. He settled his lower back against the kitchen counter and leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest. “How long have you felt this way?”

(Y/N) eyed him suspiciously.

Jason held his hands up in surrender. “I won’t tell him anything, promise.”

She pursed her lips and looked down at floor in front of her feet, fingers playing with the hem of her shirt. “I’ve felt the way I do about him for almost 2 months. But the soulmate thing…” (Y/N) trailed off and looked up at Jason, “I just found out about that a few days ago.”

“How?”

“Remember when he ran into the island of his kitchen? I think-” she paused and shallowed harshly before continuing, “I felt it too. I’ve done it myself so I know what it feels like and…. and that was it. The pain I got in my side when he ran into it was that, I recognized it.”

It was quiet between them for a moment, the gravity of what (Y/N) said hung in the air.

“Do you want to know for sure?”

(Y/N) moved her gaze from the floor back up to him. “You mean right now?”

Jason nodded his head. “If you want to know why wait any longer? I can give you proof that David is or isn’t your soulmate in 2 sentences. Wanna hear them?”

Growing up, (Y/N) always imagined that her soulmate reveal would be something out of a Nicholas Sparks movie. She never pictured it happening in the kitchen of a divorced 40 year old who had two kids asleep 10 feet above their heads.

But life wasn’t a Nicholas Sparks movie, and (Y/N) couldn’t have another sleepless night before a test because she was too scared to face the truth.

So she bit her lip, closed her eyes, and nodded her head yes.

Jason hesitated a moment before speaking, the weight of what he was about to say was almost suffocating. “Two years ago for a bit, David and I started tossing wine bottles between us. He missed one and cut his hand so badly that we had to take him to the ER to get stitches.”

(Y/N) felt her heart skip a beat as something she’d been wondering for years had finally been answered. She finally knew who her soulmate was, and better yet, what the dumbass had been doing to get such a deep cut on his hand.

“So?” Jason asked timidly after a beat of silence passed.

She opened her eyes with a soft smile and looked at him, her finger absentmindedly tracing the scar that ran against her palm from the stitches she’d needed there.

Not able to speak quite yet, (Y/N) just nodded her head.

Another beat of silence. “What are you gonna do?” he asked quietly.

She snorted and gave him a pointed look. “Well I can tell you what I won’t be doing, I won’t be slapping myself in the face.”

“Hey it was only a suggestion!”

  The first time David knew (Y/N) was his soulmate was when he accidentally shot her with a paintball gun.

She hadn’t wanted him to find out that way, with a paint bullet to the leg. She planned on telling him, really, but there just never seemed to be a good time to break the news.

What was (Y/N) supposed to do? Just walk up to David and say Hey guess what? We’re supposed to spend the rest of our lives together and get married and have kids and stuff isn’t that cool?

No. Only someone stupidly impulsive like Todd would ever do such a thing.

There would be a time when the stars aligned to create the perfect moment, just like the sight of David’s paintball gun aligned perfectly with Todd’s leg then.

There was this new thing David did where he’d give someone $100 and in return they had to agree to let him shoot them once anytime throughout the week with his paintball gun.

This week, Todd took the bait.

And today, David took his shot.

“Hey Todd!” he called out, coming out from his hiding spot in the hallway.

Todd whipped his head around, and the rest seemed to go in slow motion.

David took the shot, not seeing that (Y/N) was standing directly behind Todd because they were previously having a conversation.

Todd, so used to getting shot by this point, had honed his reflexes and jumped to side with almost super human speed.

(Y/N) and David both let out a yelp of pain as the paint bullet spattered onto her jeans. The gun clattered to floor and they both reached their hands down instinctively towards their leg.

Everyone went silent. Their eyes darted between the two of them with wide eyes.

“David…” (Y/N) said slowly, standing up straight. Her heart stopped as their eyes met. She opened her mouth to continue but couldn’t get any words out. Not knowing what to say, she looked at Jason for help, which didn’t go unnoticed by David.

“Wait.” He paused and looked at Jason then (Y/N), and she just knew that her eyes were betraying all their secrets. “You knew?”

(Y/N) was never good with emotions and reading people. She was always better at science and reading data from lab reports.

That’s what made sense to her, science. Not emotion. Not the look on David’s face. Not the feeling of dread that welled up in her stomach at his continued silence. Not the urge to cry she was suddenly hit with and fought off with all she had.

Having no idea what to say or what to do, (Y/N) went with her gut instinct and pushed passed everyone to get to the front door; and she didn’t take a second to breathe and calm herself down until she was already in her car coasting down the freeway.

She wondered if soulmates sharing pain extended past physical too emotional as well if it were strong enough.

She held herself together.

  The first time both David and (Y/N) knew with absolute certainty that they were each other’s true love happened when they kissed.

It started to rain on the way home back to her apartment. Of course it did.

When (Y/N) walked up to the entrance of her apartment building already soaking wet from having walked to it from her car in the rain, David was already there, also soaking wet. Of course he was.

They stood there in silence with three feet of space between them, staring at each other as rain continued to pour down from the heavens. Of course they did.

“How did you…” she trailed off, confused as to how he got there first considering she left before him.

“Tesla.” Was all David said, as if that answer alone could solve all the world’s problems.

He reached up and pinched his arm then smiled wryly as (Y/N) began to rub hers in the same spot with a hiss. “Sorry, just wanted to check,” he said.

Another moment of silence passed between.

David, realizing that (Y/N) wasn’t to talk, sighed defeatedly. He took a small step closer to her. “(Y/N) why did you- why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you say anything?”

She shrugged her shoulders lamely and wiped some water of her face. “I don’t know Dave I just- I couldn’t figure how.” Her (Y/E/C) eyes met his as she said, “You have to admit it’s not the easiest topic to bring up.”

“How long have you known?”

“Three weeks.”

“And are you happy?”

(Y/N) pushed a wet string of hair behind her ear. “About what? About you being my soulmate?”

David nodded his head.

She snorted and smiled at him in disbelief. “Of course I am David. Why wouldn’t I be? You’re- at one point I liked you so much that I was beginning to worry what would happen when I met my soulmate because I was so scared of having to give you up.”

His expression softened at that, and (Y/N) felt her chest warm against the chilled rain pelting them from above.

“Are you happy?” she asked, heart hammering against her chest in anticipation. “That I’m your soulmate?”

David exhaled deeply like a weight was lifted off his chest. A smile broke out across his face. “(Y/N) I’m so damn grateful that it’s you. I can’t imagine it being anyone else.”

A crack of thunder sounded overhead as he reached out and pulled her face forward to meet his lips in a searing kiss.

His eyelashes brushed against her cheek along with falling raindrops as (Y/N) threaded her hands through his wet hair and kissed him back immediately with just as much intensity.

Anything that wasn’t able to be put into words was put it into that kiss.

And at that moment, there was no longer any shadow of doubt in either of their minds about being each other’s true love.

Because that kiss? It was everything.

Absolutely everything.

[understandingthevoices]

~ wrote a thing about identifying narcissistic abuse in the brown girl group i’m a part of since so many brown boys are narcs lmao and it was so well-received that I thought i would share here too ~ 

Recently a few people asked me how I became aware of my ex's personality disorder and how I started my healing process w/o a therapist (though if I had seen someone, perhaps this would have been faster)...

It's a LONG one but hopefully informative!!

So we had been on and off for years since college - with me realizing flaws he had and him making it up to me until the next one hit and so on and so forth (and I thought, yay! change! this can work***) - but then it came to a point where I told him enough was enough and we deserved to find people who made us happy and maybe we could revisit "us" in the future. But he cried and told me he couldn't lose me and wanted to actually try the "love" thing out... So, I allowed myself to believe he was for real -- and (somewhat) let down my emotional guards that I had held for self-preservation. Things seemed to be going okay - we would send each other hearts, talk about our future house, kids, etc and everything was fine and dandy, and I thought I was "happy" or "happy enough" - after all, I had the guy right? What more could I want?

But then, let me take you to a Friday afternoon at Trader Joes's, where I was grabbing my groceries and suddenly noticed something: along with her groceries, every woman was walking out with flowers, which I imagined was because of a scheduled date night. it seems so silly now, but at that moment, I broke down into tears because I realized I wanted that too - and if I continued in my old patterns only because it (he) was familiar and all I had known, I would never get that.

He would tell me about our beautiful future life together but wouldn't even take a 4 hour train to visit me.

Basically, He could talk a big talk, he could weave stories about anything to make me believe in us (and he was a MASTER storyteller and had a vivid imagination), but he couldn't walk the walk. Or rather, he didn't care to walk the walk. And if I brought these things up, he would belittle me or say he was busy, essentially reframing my needs as unimportant and not worthy of consideration. But then he would cover it up by saying our kids would be beautiful and smart, he would leave NYC to be in Boston for me, etc - and it was so easy to get sucked in, so tempting to believe this was only temporary.....

But then I would have insomniac nights, where I was filled with anxiety/sadness because I knew I wasn't happy - and the breakdown in Trader Joe's confirmed that

And he had already conditioned me into understanding that if I talked to him about these feelings, he would invalidate, ignore, and eventually bring them up later as ammunition (a favorite of his was “did you forget, we’re not a couple”, which was so hurtful and confusing af lmao)

Up until that point, I had maintained he was just "emotionally unavailable" or "commitmentphobic" and if he saw I wasn't going to nag him or push him into marriage, etc - he would realize it wasn't so scary and we could finally build a life together! It felt like we were moving in that direction, finally. But then every so often, I would have moments where the reality became a little too clear and there was little I could do to stop myself from breaking down.

And it was at my wit's end during these nights that I googled things like "why is he so emotionally distant" and stumbled upon a trove of gold Quora questions/answers - and once I discovered Quora, I went HAM.

Questions like...

"why does he try to make me jealous"

"why does he get mad when he sees me with other guys"

"why won't he commit"

"why won't he let me meet his friends"

"why does he not let me go" / "why does he keep holding on to me"

"why does he say he cares but not visit"

... And throughout all of this searching, one of the answers inevitably mentioned emotional abuse (and often narcissistic abuse) - and while I didn't initially think my situation was abusive, because it seemed like such a strong term, I was so desperate for answers and it came up so often that I said fcuk it, let's see what this is about.

So I googled "emotional abuse" and "narcissistic abuse" and read the stories of survivors, many of which echoed mine. I was shocked that these people had dated what seemed to be clones of my own ex. Many of them mentioned kids/divorce/etc and how they wish they had realized the signs sooner instead of wasting so many years with an emotional vampire, who would initially seem like your soulmate, ingratiate himself to you, praise you and put you on a pedestal, only to suck the life out of you through devaluing mechanisms and never listening to your needs, and discard you later (or stay until you stop giving them chances) - and then play the same game with the next victim, leaving a trail of broken people. They posted about the fake personalities, the emotional highs and lows, how he would leave and come back months/years later as if nothing had changed, etc - and things finally started making sense.

I had noticed many of these things - but without the awareness of narcissism - didn't know what to make of it. For example, when we were on our off-periods and he was out chasing Muslim girls, he (someone I had known as a frat fcukboy who would crush 20 beers in a night) became the sober, praying virtue-driven man. When he was out chasing someone else, he pretended to love Rupi Kaur poetry - even though we made fun of it together (no offense). I often felt like he seemed so ~different~ during these periods - and would call him out on it, but he would always deny it. But, looking back, I realize it wasn't just in my head as he wanted me to believe.

Luckily for me, he had grown to like one of these girls and we decided to take a break (later, I would realize he was trying to 'triangulate' me with her, but even back then I wouldn't succumb to his dumb games) -- which gave me much needed time to continue my Quora obsessiveness... and I went down the rabbit hole. Quora led me to narcissistic abuse recovery youtube channels and instagram accounts - which further opened my eyes to the lies I had been fed. It was heartbreaking but I began to realize his version of "love" (if you can even call his self-serving love that) was so different from mine - for him, it was latching onto someone who would validate him, give him the emotional supply he needed, and be there at his beck and call -- which I was happy to do if it was reciprocal, but of course it wasn't lol. It was completely one-sided and I let it happen because for me, the love I felt was genuine - not fabricated - and I thought that's what you do when you're in love (and it's what I saw growing up in my parent's relationship). I didn't want to believe it but the answer was clear as day - I had been conned into a fake relationship by someone who didn't have the capacity to love someone, and could only use them.

At this point, I realized ~5 years of on-and-off narcissistic abuse (and more than 2 decades of observing my parents' toxic marriage) would take a long time for me to heal from, but if I wanted to have any chance at a truly happy, healthy relationship (which I so earnestly did), I had to let him go. So I dived headfirst - watched at least 1-2 hours worth of videos every day, cried about the disrespect I had put up with, wrote pages and pages of text, etc - and became entrenched in this mode of self-improvement and inner child-finding. And I put them on my tumblr, so he would see them (I knew he was still checking up on me).

So when he inevitably came back because the girl he was chasing "was not who I thought she was" and wanted to be with me because I was so "perfect, knew him better than he knew himself, and so smart", I had the emotional wherewithal to tell him I didn't want this anymore -- and the little bits of changes he would make to attempt to gratify me - I could see through them and they were no longer enough. I think it was a last ditch attempt on his side - my tumblr posts made it obvious I was leveling up and wanted nothing more to do with him.

He was upset and told me he was talking to this girl on a dating app - but she was boring and a downgrade from me - and I just said, "cool". He then told me if I didn't want to try again, he would have no choice but to date her and see where it goes. And at that point, I just wanted him to leave me alone, as I knew anything with him would be a dead end. And I was TIRED. So to his surprise, I said go for it - and blocked him from everything and everywhere. I felt an immediate sense of relief, as I knew the nightmare was finally over and he was someone else's problem now. Of course, just like anyone else, I have my ups and downs too - but I'm definitely much better off.

Now? I haven't heard from him in over 2 years. I don't think I will - I told our mutual friends all about his deceit, post about it on my twitter, and make sure everyone knows how phony he is - and I think he realizes the ruse is over. I have found him out, and he knows he should stay away unless he wants me to expose him even more. I can hit him where it hurts and he is terrified - exactly where I like boys to be ;)

Anyways, last I heard, he's engaged to that girl he said was a downgrade (which isn't that surprising - since I gave him a narcissistic injury by leaving he knew he had to lock down the next one or she would leave too) - which is quite sad. I pray she sees the light before he takes too much away from her.

Hope it clears up things -- as always, feel free to PM me. More than happy to help anyone, especially if it means saving one of you from a toxic monster <3

***This is one of the subtle points that makes narcissists so difficult to identify: usually, when someone changes for you, it's because they like you and don't want to hurt you - compromise! that's what you do when you're in love, right? However, for a narcissist, it's not "love" - it's him realizing that if he wants to keep you trapped in his web of deceit, he needs to change - and this is true for both the beginning of the relationships and the whole duration. They don't have any integrity so they will change into whoever you want them to be, if it means you'll be attracted to them -- they are so good at reading you, figuring you out, and identifying your deepest desires/wants that they can transform into your idea of a perfect partner -- and they DO, but it's only a set up to manipulate you later. It's addicting to meet who you easily consider your "soulmate"... but in the end, you realize it was too good to be true.

[missklou]

Good angel {Hoseok Smut}

Make sure to check my masterlist here.

Genre: Smut with plot, a sequel? I dunno yet, dom!hoseok, sub!reader, a bit of angst

Pairing: Hoseok X reader

Word count: 5.1k

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of sex, oral sex (giving), dirty talk, no aftercare, power play, praise kink, hair pulling, fingering, voyeurism.  

Song reference: My medicine -The pretty reckless.

Jin Hyung 2:43 PM Ow, come on man!

Jhope 2:44 PM Hyung, you know it's not that easy, it's a three hours flight! I can't just drop everything and go...

Jin Hyung 2:44 PM Okay, look, I get that it's hard but please! It took so long to finally find a date that suited everyone and to even convince them in the first place! Plus I promised that you would show up, they will be very disappointed if you don't.

Jin Hyung 2:44 And your family misses you, it's the perfect excuse to come and visit them.

Jhope 2:45 PM Yeah, I guess... Look I can't promise I'll go, but I'll think about it.

Jin Hyung 2:46 PM K, luv you Hobi, please come!

Hoseok rested his phone on his thighs, leaning back to take another look at the invite on his email with solemn eyes.

The computer glowed with the short and cheerful message. "Hey Hobi, I know you moved out of the city but I was wondering if you would come to our night out reunion next weekend, get the group back together.

It's going to be on Saturday, we are meeting at Jimin's like always and we are getting fucked up on that club we used to go, like the good ol days. Please, please, please come, it won't be the same without you!"

Hoseok would be lying if he said he didn't miss his friends. The unswerving group of seven teenagers he once made part of hasn't met in years and Seokjin was right, he had to pay his family a visit at some point.

But it wasn't that easy anymore, adult life had caught up to him, work and responsibilities he didn't feel confident enough to just drop to party with his friends, as much as he would like to.

Just thinking about it made him feel weary, In all honesty, he felt lonely. By himself in a big city, with no friends or family to lean on when bad thoughts overflowed his mind, just working to his bones, trying to make a better living, trying to keep moving.

It has been almost six years since he left the little town he came from, originally to attend university and become the performer he always dreamed to be, later, what got him to stay was much more domineering.

At some point during that time, Hoseok met a woman he was too innocent not to fall in love with.

She was reckless and fierce in ways that enticed his inner "small town" boy and being with her felt like standing at the edge of the world, looking at something so great his hands could never grasp.

It lasted three years during his second to fourth -and last year- of uni, and she taught him so many different things, from smoking weed for the first time, riding supermarket carts in the middle of the night, to murmuring soft "I love you's" after having sex on the beach, drunk out of his mind.

It ended the same way it had started, like a derailed train.

One night she was lying on his chest, it was cold outside, very cold, and she was about to fall asleep as he watched, absentmindedly, to shit shows on TV.

Things had been so stressful at the time, Hoseok was barely surviving his senior year, running on energy drinks and antiosyolitics and she effortlessly became an anchor, the only thing keeping him sane.

So, as he thought about the exams he had coming up and the work that was slowly sucking his life, Hoseok felt the icy cold sensation running through his veins, paralyzing, fixed gaze.

"Let's get married."

He pleaded that night.

She stared at him, wide-eyed and griping a piece of cover.

She was gone by the time sun rays inundated the oppressingly cold room, taking with her the candidness of the beaming boy he once was.

Two years had gone by, two full years of reasoning with himself about giving up and going back to his city, getting closer to his family again, forget all about his dream and just fall into the sad reality.

But he insists that it would be unbearable, even the loneliness and his exhausting job had to be better than going back to that life, with the same people, the single-minds and the shallow dreams.

That's why he decides to take Seokjin on his offer. He needs an excuse to go back, see just how much have changed and come back to his ridiculously small apartment, motivated to keep following his plans and not look back.

An hour later he texts Seokjin to let him know of his decision and clears his agenda, not giving a fuck about responsibilities, thinking it's about time to enjoy himself. The next week Hoseok packs a dirty old bag and leaves to the airport with nothing to lose.

Hours later he finds Seokjin waiting for him with a small sign that read "hoseokie" with bold letters and decored with many hearts.

-Okay, tell me what happened to the others. -He requests, with his heart-shaped smile adorning his face, while he searches his phone for another song to play.

-Do you want the short or the long version? -The older man asks, also smiling but with his eyes glued on the road, focused on driving.

-The long one, give me all the details so I can tease the shit out of them.

They laugh out loud, Hoseok feels his heart swelling with how much he had missed his best friend for the past six years, and how natural things still felt between them, even after everything they have been through.

-Okay, let's start with Yoongi then, he started working on his music, he also moved away and it's actually getting big, he got here last week just to hang out with us.

He went on and on about their friends, updating Hoseok on all of the things that happened and never once crossed his mind.

Namjoon fell madly in love with a girl he now lived with and said they were planning to travel the world together. Jimin had just finished college and was opening his own dance academy, teaching and administrating it at the same time. Taehyung never went to college, he too moved to a big city and was striking modeling gigs. Jungkook was still in college and getting noticed for his singing and editing abilities on his growing youtube channel.

Everything looked the same, each corner being recognizable, every store holding memories of their drunken escapades, still, nostalgy sat heavy on his tong, dislocation leaving an unsettling feeling on his chest.

Seokjin left him at the doorsteps of his childhood home, wishing him good luck and saying he'd be back by ten to pick him up.

Hours later, after being washed in love by his family, Hoseok actually felt rejuvenated, like that was all he needed to regain his strength and charge his energetic personality. In a few hours, he was back to being the loud, comical person the city knew him for, and he regretted not coming back sooner.

Ten came by and Hoseok couldn't control his body, he was almost jumping on his feet with excitement to see his friends and go out, enjoy himself and get a taste of the happiness he thought he couldn't have back.

Hoseok had the tendency to forget things he did while being drunk.

He once got naked in front of a whole party in a game of truth or dare, kissed a random guy thinking he was a girl and got punched in the face shortly after, fell from a counter into a table of beer pong, breaking it in two.

He couldn't remember shit the day after, which only made him less conscious about doing shit, and the fact Jungkook actually dragged their asses to a frat party of all places, packed with strangers, only gave him the confidence to drink his soul out of his body.

But Hoseok was no longer the college kid he once was, frat parties, sorority girls, even drinking wasn't so exciting anymore. Getting drunk became a goal other than enjoyment, the girls that approached weren't that interesting, the music was too loud, the minimal details bothered him.

Old Hoseok would've loved that party, he would be in his element for sure, but that wasn't old Hoseok, it was the Hoseok from the little, quiet apartment, the lonely nights, and the draining job.

Disappointed with himself, he takes a seat on the couch to watch others for a minute, trying to convince himself he had to quit making up excuses to justify his grumpiness and admit it was no one's fault but himself. During that time he noticed his friends too acted differently from their college selves.

Old Namjoon would've been drunk by one AM, throwing inspirational speeches, but now he was in a corner, talking to his girlfriend and enjoying her laughter.

Yoongi and Seokjin were the quiet ones a few years back, Yoongi would've been composedly laughing at them on the couch, away from the commotion of people, and Seokjin would've been cracking dad jokes to the girls that approached him, but now they were both upstairs with girls they knew little about.

Taehyung was actually talking to the giggling group of girls hitting on him, and not being an arrogant ass like his past fuckboy self, and Jungkook, the shy bunny, the baby of the group, had his legs spread on the couch, feverously making out with his said "fuck buddy".

Nothing made fucking sense.

He laughs to himself at his observation, late night thoughts going through his head, the ones he only had when he had too much to drink and was most definitely not remembering shit the next morning.

A smile still lingers on his lips when his eyes aimlessly meet yours, locking gazes immediately, like you were opposite poles of a magnet.

He unconsciously stands up the moment you walk in through the front doors, your eyes are still glued on him, sharp and firm as if he's a prey, something you wish to put your fingers on. He watches the way your black dress hugs your every curve, thighs exposed, hips moving in the most hypnotizing way.

He blinks repeatedly, wondering if this is some sort of mirage since you stand out so much from the people around you, he can't help but wonder if you are really there or if it's just his wishful thinking, a drunken frenzy.  

His shoulders drop with disappointment the moment you face away, making your way into the kitchen, leaving his sight completely. It takes him a few seconds to get his feet moving, taking his body to the room you just walked in with excitement buddling in his chest.

That was absolutely everything he was looking for, the first time in years he felt this enthusiastic over someone, and he was most definitely not letting it go. He needed that fire, was eager to get it.

To his surprise, the room isn't packed like the rest of the house, a couple making out by the counter, a young boy spilling his guts on the sink and you, leaning against the fridge with a red cup in your hands, so full it threatened to spill, eyes meeting his immediately as if you were expecting him to follow.

-Hello. -You greet him, eyes unfazed and mysterious behind the cup and he hates how drunk he is at the moment, he hates to know he won't remember every second of you, every word you let out with the velvety tone.

-Hello. -He lets out, putting all his effort into making his voice as steady and clear as possible.

A smile quivers in your dark red lips as you can see through his frangible composure and it amuses you.

-What are we going to do? I can see why you came... -You pondered, pouting slightly and raising an eyebrow at the content of your cup. -But I just got here, and I want to dance. -He watches in astonishment as you throw your head back and empty your cup in one go.

Hissing at the burning sensation in your throat, you point him his own glass, motioning for him to do the same, and so he does, wasting no time to please you.

In a matter of minutes, you have his hand in yours, guiding him through the dance floor to find the best spot while meaningless songs play one after the other and as they finish Hoseok fills your cups again.

As he watches you move in the dimmed lights room, swinging your hips and turning your head to grin at him, it is as if your lips are bragging his bewilderment.

You are the complete opposite of her, and he wants to get high on the feeling of you.

Her eyes meant nothing but troublesome, with a cheekiness that said "I don't know what I'm doing but I'm still doing it", while yours draw him as if they held the secrets of the universe, eyes that said, "I have done this all before".

She used to laugh at things he wished she didn't, getting easily distracted, while you made him feel like the two of you were the only thing that mattered.  Back pressed against his chest, hips meeting his, resting your head on his shoulder with closed eyes and synchronized movements, it felt like you were in another universe entirely.

Yet another song ends with a fading note and Hoseok glares at your mouth when you spin around and press your chest to his, his hands find your hips automatically like he had done that his whole life.

-Another drink?

You nod in agreement, but then the guitar chords take over the house and the most perfect song for the moment takes over the frat party, your hands dive to his hair, clutching the silky strains and pulling him closer.

"Somebody mixed my medicine"

-No! Stay for this song... "somebody mixed my medicine"

He presses his body against yours, the scent of smoke and cheap alcohol mixed with your perfume is intoxicating.

"Well you hurt where you sleep and you sleep where you lie Now you're in deep and now you're gonna cry Got a woman to your left And a boy to your right"

Finally, it becomes unbearable and Hoseok leans in to clash your lips to his,  to find out you are as eager as he is, feeling your hunger for him by the way you take control over the kiss, biting his bottom lip and pressing your nails into his neck.

"You start to sweat so Hold me tight 'cause..."

At that moment Hoseok realizes just how much he had to drink because he is going for your neck, kissing, biting and sucking at the soft skin, not minding that you are in public, not minding the purple marks that are going to decorate your neck later. He is addicted to the way you expose your neck to his touches, hands falling to squeeze his shoulder.

"Somebody mixed my medicine I don't know what I'm on"

His head spins the moment you push way, only enough to whisper in his ear.

-Let me be your medicine Hoseok...

Your pupils are dilated and you look beautiful breathless, the only thing he can focus on his blurred, drunken vision.

"Somebody mixed my medicine Now baby it's all gone"

You guide the way out of the dance floor, pushing people out of the way to reach the stairs.

"Somebody mixed my medicine And somebody's in my head again"

You turn around to check on him as you make your way up the stair, eyes libidinous.

"And somebody mixed my medicine again, again"

-I need you. -You stated, turning around on the last step to the second floor, taking advantage of the height difference to kiss him again, his body responds promptly, squeezing your ass firmly.

"Well I drink what you leak and I smoke what you sigh See you cross the room with that look in your eye"

-I need you. -He mumbled eyes closed, face ethereal.

"Got a man to his left and a girl to his right You start to sweat so Hold me tight 'cause"

It didn't take long for you to find an empty room and once the door is shut, Hoseok lets out a sign the little self-control he had left quickly dissolved, and he pinned you to the wall, lips meeting the red marks on your neck once more.

"Somebody mixed my medicine"

-Make me dirty. -Your voice sends chills down his spine, blood running down to his dick, he stares into your deep, meaningful eyes one last time before turning you around.

"I don't know what I'm on"

Warm chest meeting the cold wall, your ass deliciously pressed against his bulge, he wraps your hair around his wrist and pulls your head towards him, the pleasing pain forcing a muffled moan out of you.

"Somebody mixed my medicine"

-You are driving me crazy -He growls in your ear, leaving open mouth kisses all over your neck and shoulders before letting go of your hair, one hand goes to massage your breasts and the other cups your sex, hips grinding into yours.

"Now baby it's all gone"

The way you gasp and throw one of your hands back to caress his hair and bring him closer makes his hairs stand, he realizes you are the hottest thing he has ever seen when your hips syncronize with him, dry humping on the most sinful way as the song plays faintly downstairs.

"Somebody mixed my medicine Somebody's in my head again And somebody mixed my medicine again, again"

-Ah fuck! -He moans at the sight of your bodies connecting and watch your ass bounce on him, he feels the dampness of your panties only from his fingers. -I want to fuck you so good, you are so wet...

"There's a tiger in the room and a baby in the closet"

-Please do. -You beg, velvety voice dripping arousal.

"Pour another drink mom I don't even want it"

He gives you another hard suck to your neck, feeling the intense need to spread his marks all over you and blood rushes to your core, he takes your dress off, leaving you in your underwear and heels, dripping wet from his touches.

"Then I turn around and think I see someone that looks like you"

-You are so beautiful angel -He breathes to your ear, chills running down your spine as he spins you around to face him again, wasting no time in kissing you.

"Well you hurt where you sleep and you sleep where you lie Now you're in deep and now you're gonna cry."

-So, so beautiful, my good girl -He grunts when you part, lips brushing yours. -You are so good for me, ruining your panties, asking me to turn you into the dirty girl you love to be. -Hoseok raises one of your thighs to his waist, clothed cock brushing your clit in the most delicious ways.

"Got a woman to your left And a boy to your right"

-Let me make you feel good. -There's not a trace of shame in your voice when you reach to palm him through his pants, taking great joy from his blown wide pupils and vocal response.

"You start to sweat so Hold me tight 'cause"

-On your knees then kitten. -He kisses you before you follow his command, dropping to your knees and pulling at his pants while he takes his shirt off, abdomen contracting and relaxing, muscles on display at eye level, your hands itch to touch him.

"Somebody mixed my medicine"

When you manage to pull his pants down you feel the weight of his phone on the back pocket, ideas buddle in Hoseok's mind when he sees the device on your hands.

"I don't know what I'm on"

-Can I take a video angel? Can I record your pretty mouth around my cock? -His eyes are glowing with craving and you feel your panties getting impossibly sticky.

"Somebody mixed my medicine"

-Do it. -You consent, a smile growing in your swollen lips, the desire in his eyes set your skin on fire, the alcohol you just had makes you lightheaded.

"Now baby it's all gone"

You get rid of his boxers, watching as his dick springs free, hard and glistening with precum, your mouth waters at the sight of him stroking his cock.

"Somebody mixed my medicine"

His eyes roll back the second you press a kiss to his tip, groaning when you wrap your warm mouth around him and slowly lower your head, taking him inch by inch.

"Somebody's in my head again, again"

Light hits your face, you raise your eyes to see he's holding his phone, recording as you take his cock in your mouth, his groans get significantly louder and you can't help but take one of your hands to tease your clit, moaning around him.

"And somebody mixed my medicine"

Hoseok grabs your hair, controlling your movements as you swallow around him, the vibrations of your moans drive him crazy. Soon you are barely moving, just keeping your mouth open to receive him as he fucks your face with a firm grip on your hair.

"Again, again, again Again, again, again Again, again, again"

Each word is punctuated by his cock hitting the back of your throat. Your gag reflex kicks in and you control your breathing, tears forming and falling down the corners of your eyes, you scratch the back of his thigh with your free hand.

"Somebody mixed my medicine"

-What a good girl you are, touching your pretty cunt while I fuck your face. -He caresses your hair, slowing down his trusts.

"Somebody mixed my medicine"

-Put on a show for me, won't you? Open your mouth, tongue out. -He orders and you stare straight at the camera, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out, giving a few teasing licks at the tip of his cock.

"Somebody mixed my medicine again"

-Get up, I need to fuck you right now. -He lifts you up effortlessly, caring you to bed, phone still in his hands. -Hands and knees for me, hold that ass up.

You do so, following his every command, feeling like your skin is on fire whenever he touches you.

-So good. -He leans in, bitting your left ass cheek, squeezing the flesh of the other cheek. -So beautiful, such a good kitten, you are so hot, you make me so hard.

Every praise goes straight to your core, you can't help but push your ass back, looking for his touches, aching from the lack of stimulation. He seems to read your mind, stroking your clit softly through the fabric of your panties.

-Do you like that angel? You like when I touch you like that? Say it. -His thumb makes circular movements, the knot in your stomach grows, you want nothing more than to follow his orders.

-I love it! -You are breathless, fucked out, your throat is sore from being face fucked. -Please fuck me, fuck me and make me cum on your cock. -Your cries seem to have an effect on him because he is soon pushing your panties to the side.

He takes a deep breath, hands tightening at your sides.

-Look at that pussy, soaking wet from sucking my cock. -Hoseok adjusts the angle of the phone so that he can film your clenching pussy next to his hard cock. -Let's prep you hm?

His thumb finds your clit again and the direct contact makes you see stars, muffling a moan with a pillow.

The hand immediately leaves your clit, pulling your hair so roughly you jump in place, pushing your ass against his hips.

-Don't you dare, I want to hear every fucking moan that leaves your mouth, do you understand?

-Yes!

-Are you going to behave?

-F-fuck yes -You moan this time when his fingers leave your hair to tease your entrance, stretching your walls and reaching deep inside you.

-Louder! I want the whole party to hear you! You’d probably love that, wouldn’t you? To have everyone listening as I fuck the shit out of you.

He curls his fingers to hit your G spot, earning yet another long, tortured moan.

-Please fuck me already! I need you to... -His fingers catch speed, hitting all the right spots mercilessly. -I need you to fill me up Hoseok, please, I want your cock so bad!

-Yes angel, beg for my dick, fuck yourself on my fingers, this is so fucking hot. -His fingers slow down, focusing on the movements on your clit. -Why is your bra still on? Take it off and turn over so I can see those perfect tits while I fuck you.

Soon your last piece of clothing hits the floor and you are fully exposed to him, chest rising and falling with your heavy breathing, sweat sticking your hair to your face.

The flash is still on and it only makes it the more intense, Hoseok is also shining with sweat, his muscles are firm under your fingers and his eyes are darker than they have ever been, his hair is pushed back and messy, his mouth is red and swollen just like yours probably is.

He reaches for his pants, taking a condom out of his back pocket and resting the phone, still recording, on the nightstand, quickly sliding the condom on and aligning his cock with your entrance.

His head stretches your walls and he slowly fills you up, giving you a few seconds to adjust before pounding into you in sharp, hard movements that make your legs weak.

-So full... -You mumble incoherently, your drunken breath hits his face and he can't help but lean in to kiss you, firmly pressing his lips to yours as his trusts hit deeper, you let out a scream of his name, scratching the skin of his back.

-What is it angel? Is my cock making you feel good? -He grinds his hips in a way that has the whole bed moving, he hits your cervix with every trust and you roll your eyes to the back of your head, the lewd sounds of your arousal fill the room.  

Hoseok kisses you again, moaning into your lips.

-Touch yourself for me, use those fingers on your clit, make yourself cum on my cock. -Your fingers find their way to your sensitive bud, not daring to disobey him.

Your screams get louder, he only goes faster, encouraging you to be loud.

-Yes! Keep fucking me Hoseok, I'm so close to cumming! -You throw your head back, closing your eyes and applying even more force to the hand that is pressing your nails to his back.

His trusts get erratic for a moment, he is getting lost in your pleasure, letting his head down to watch where you two connect.

-Fuck ah! Cum for me baby, let me feel that tight pussy clenching around me!

You can feel your sanity crumbling at the feeling of him hitting your G spot repeatedly, filling you to the limit while you rub your clit and raise your hips to roll against his.

-Fuck fuck fuck  Hoseok! -Your cries are desperate now, you open your eyes to find him staring at you from behind his soaked bangs, eyes hungry and sensual.

Your climax hits you full force, sending waves of pleasure through your body and blurring your vision.

-Good girl, good baby. -He chants under his breath, fucking you through your orgasm until your legs are quivering and crushing his hips.

A few more strikes and Hoseok is spilling into the condom, panting and shoving his face in the crook of your neck.

It takes you two a long time to recover.

Two days after the party and Hoseok is excitedly putting his bags on the trunk, getting ready to go back to his apartment and start over.

-Everything alright? Sure you are not forgetting anything? -Seokjin throws his jacket to the back seat to as Hoseok sits in the front.

-Yeah pretty sure I got everything, thanks for the ride. -He gives his hyung one of his signature heart-shaped smiles while buckling his seat belts.

-Sure thing, no need to thank me. -Jin begins to make his way to the airport when he eyes the back seats through the mirror and suddenly turns his heat to see the yellow package. -Oh, do you mind if we stop by my house? I was supposed to leave this there and ended up forgetting about it.

Hoseok's brows furrow, also looking at the package.

-No, no problem!

On their way, Hoseok's mind wonders off to the video he watched at least a thousand times through the course of two days. He can't help but think about you, about how he passed out and woke up to an empty bed, how he wished he had asked your name, how he wished he could have said goodbye.

Jin pulls at the blue house they used to play all the time when they were kids, turning to take the package.

-I thought you had moved out of your parent's? -Hoseok asks, looking at the windows and thinking about all the memories they had.

-I did, I just have to drop this here. -The older leaves the car, jumping the front steps and ringing the bell.

A few seconds later the door is open, Hoseok can't see because of Seokjin's wide shoulders.

Jin leans and Hoseok gasps when he sees that it's you that Seokjin is placing a kiss on the cheek.

Your eyes lock on him, unimpressed but as intense as the night of the party, he is completely frozen, unable to act upon his shocked state.

Jin turns away, getting back in the car while mumbling a random song.

-Who-who is she? -Is all Hoseok manages to ask, eyes not leaving you for a second as you are still watching him from the doorframe.

His friend furrows his brows, chuckling at the question.

-Has it been that long since she had that childish crush on you? That's Y/N, my baby sister, don't you remember how she used to follow you all around?

Hoseok's mouth goes dry, Jin starts the engine.

-I guess she got over you in middle school, thank god, she would never shut up about you!

"I guess she got over you"

Hoseok remembers how he crushed the white rose you once offered him.

"Get over it already, can't you see we will never be together? I don't like you!"

After breaking your heart for the first time, he watched as you cried and begged him not to treat you like that, asking him to be nice like he always was, to see you as he did the other girls, to care for you the way you did for him.

He did, god he did like you, but he could never do that, he could never be with you.

"If any of you ever hit on my sister I swear it's over, I'm never talking to any of you ever again, understood?" Said Seokjin once they all became friends, and those words burned Hoseok's mind while your tears rolled down your face and he wanted nothing more than to clean them.

Now his mind was flooding with the memories of you two days ago, the way you moved, the way you talked, how your eyes burned the sadness and the emptiness from his chest, how he felt alive for the first time in a while.

There, freaking out in silence, he stared at you, wide-eyed, until your brother, his best friend, drove away.

[glenngaylord]

MY MOMENTS OUT OF TIME IN FILM 2017

Instead of a Top 10 List, every year I like to honor a long-discontinued but influential annual column from Film Comment magazine. I couldn’t wait for my father to come home from work with the “Moments Out Of Time” issue.  The writers would cite their favorite scenes, images, or lines of dialogue, even from films they may not have liked, because let’s face it, even bad films may have a great moment or two, unless you were a film called RINGS, CATFIGHT, THE SNOWMAN, or THE DINNER.  In that case, you suck in the most forgettable of ways. Despite some obvious stinkers, this was a great year for film. Some resonated with me, such as I, TONYA and THE FLORIA PROJECT as they tackled the issue of class in America.  Despite being period pieces, films such as DARKEST HOUR and THE POST pinged on topics such as war-mongering and the need for a free press, both of which we seem to talk about daily right now.  I have a few I need to catch up on, such as MUDBOUND and THE SQUARE, and one I recently saw, A GHOST STORY, wowed me, but I haven’t written a review of it yet.  

Even I can’t see them all, so here, in no particular order, are my Moments Out Of Time in film for 2017:

“America. They want someone to love, but they want someone to hate, and the haters always say, 'Tonya, tell the truth!' There’s no such thing as truth. I mean it’s bullshit! Everyone has their own truth.” - I, TONYA

A little girl (the great Brooklyn Prince) stands in front of a motel room door, telling her little friends they’re not allowed to enter.  She pauses, and then mischievously says, “But let’s go anyways!”  in a moment of pure rebellious, but dangerous joy. - THE FLORIDA PROJECT

A young man (Lucas Hedges) begs his girlfriend (Saoirse Ronan) not to out him in one of the most touching moments of the year. - LADY BIRD

A woman (Cynthia Nixon’s blazing portrayal of Emily Dickinson) desperate to connect with someone, anyone, lights up whenever she’s around her soon-to-depart friend.  It’s a joy you wish she could have at all times.  It’s that ache to spar with another human that cuts to the core of this lonely tragedy. - A QUIET PASSION.  

Try watching the “I did not hit her” rooftop filmmaking sequence without bursting with glee.  One of the best-sustained comedy sequences of the year. - THE DISASTER ARTIST

A beautiful, long final shot of a young man (Timothée Chalamet) swimming in his tearful thoughts as the end credits role will break your heart. - CALL ME BY YOUR NAME

So will his father’s (Michael Stulbarg) 11th hour speech to him. - CALL ME BY YOUR NAME

A ghost in a white sheet with two eye holes, who has traveled across time for centuries, finally finds something important, which jogs his memory, making him feel less alone in the world, and then in a startling swish, is gone. - A GHOST STORY

Meryl Streep, in the most delicious long pause of 2017, struggles with the tough decision whether to publish the Pentagon Papers or not.  She conveys every pro and con with a series of reactions, leaving the audience breathless until she finally, and thrillingly, becomes a feminist heroine for the ages. - THE POST

Sure, it’s ostensibly Daniel Day-Lewis’ last film, but it’s the women, one with a deadening stare (Leslie Manville) and the other with the best eye flutter I’ve ever seen (Vicky Krieps), who take charge of this fascinatingly perverse story of control. - PHANTOM THREAD

A cleaning woman (Octavia Spencer) dusts a giant steampunk contraption as her mute co-worker looks on, sending the increasingly magical fable into a visually stunning dreamscape. - THE SHAPE OF WATER

“You know I can’t give you the keys, right babe?”  A chilling line in a scene in which a sympathetic, engaging character transforms into a monster, making Allison Williams, so often hated and too easily dismissed on GIRLS, as someone to REALLY watch as her career rises and rises.  - GET OUT

A beloved, iconic character from the original film makes a stunning, surprise appearance.  Despite it being CGI, this was the movie-movie moment of 2017. - BLADE RUNNER 2049

A bellicose, raging Prime Minister, known for his speeches, sits quietly with the square-ish frame filled with dark, negative space and seemingly lit by a single, too-bright light bulb.  He’s alone and yet belongs to us all, the push-pull of this theme resonating throughout the entire film. - DARKEST HOUR

“This didn't put an end to shit, you fucking retard; this is just the fucking start. Why don't you put that on your Good Morning Missouri fucking wake up broadcast, bitch?” - THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI

Bill Skarsgård’s reading of the line, “Take it!” will haunt me for years. His Pennywise proved to be surprisingly haunting and indelible. - IT

The film’s not great, but Christopher Plummer and Ridley Scott deserve all the “We’re Not Worthy’s” for pulling off the Great Kevin Spacey Replacement of 2017 in 9 days, and actually delivering a full-bodied, memorable character in the process. - ALL THE MONEY IN THE WORLD

A desperate thief uses his smarts to wheel his badly-injured brother out of the hospital in an impressive feat.  It shows a whip-smart mind in the body of  person with lost potential, and in a moment which proves this well-meaning guy just can’t get a break, it turns out he took the wrong person. - GOOD TIME

Michael Cera, even more villainous and sociopathic than he was in THIS IS THE END, and apparently channeling Tobey Maguire, freaked me out as a hateful, poker-playing celeb. - MOLLY’S GAME

Ok, people will be talking about the biplane scene forever, but nothing made me laugh more than Tiffany Haddish’s reading of this line:  “Girl, you can't get no infection in your booty hole! It's a booty hole!” - GIRLS TRIP

Bridget Everett, in a blazingly intense performance, sings the shit out of Lita Ford’s KISS ME DEADLY in a dive bar and transforms herself from comedienne to serious dramatic actor. - PATTI CAKE$

A crazed woman (Aubrey Plaza) barges in on the wedding of a social media friend and maces her for not getting on the invite list, giving the Facebook effect its full and insane due. - INGRID GOES WEST

A young woman, unable to take one more second of her overbearing, judgmental mother (Laurie Metcalf), surprisingly jumps out of a moving car. - LADY BIRD

Charlize Theron kicks one ass after another in a seemingly single shot (but not really), making this one of the greatest fight sequences ever filmed. - ATOMIC BLONDE

Algee Smith finds the heart of the story as a musician who struggles with his ambitions after a harrowing all-night encounter with racists cops. - DETROIT

Say what you will about the insanity that unspools, but Michelle Pfeiffer as the houseguest from hell was fun to watch and sorely missed when not onscreen. - MOTHER!

As Elton John’s ROCKET MAN plays on the radio, Bille Jean King (Emma Stone) and her new girlfriend Marilyn (Andrea Riseborough) drive in sun-dappled glory, their hair blowing around with each surprising gust of wind.  It’s a perfect evocation of the 70s. - BATTLE OF THE SEXES

After following around an imaginative, enterprising man (Michael Keaton as Ray Kroc) as he develops the most successful fast food chain in the world, and seeing his as a hero, he transforms into a terrible villain about halfway through, making us question the value of the American Dream. - THE FOUNDER

A suicidal Spud, his head covered in suffocating plastic, leans back in his chair and falls backwards off the top of a building, but a flash cut send him to the floor of his apartment where Renton (Ewan McGregor) slides under him to catch him.  One of the most imaginative, emotional cuts in a film I’ve seen this year. - T2 TRAINSPOTTING

Don’t heckle Kumail Nanjiani!  Holly Hunter WILL read you to filth by interjecting, “That is like saying that all frat boys wearing country club hats and Hawaiian shirts have shriveled up  tiny little dicks!” - THE BIG SICK

A young man throws himself down in the sand as bombs explode closer and closer to him. A spectacular feat of cinematography and muffled sound, and one of the greatest shots in cinema history. - DUNKIRK

A mother kicks the chair her little daughter sits in, sending her flying.  A sudden, impactful depiction of abuse. - I, TONYA

Tom Cruise emerges from a crashed plane, his face hilariously covered in cocaine. - AMERICAN MADE

A seemingly sweet young man (Barry Keoghan, my favorite new actor of the year) changes his entire demeanor and quickly, chillingly tells a doctor (Colin Farrell), in no uncertain terms, what is going to happen to him and his family. - THE KILLING OF A SACRED DEER

The best opening sequence award of the year easily goes to a film which mixed musical filmmaking with kinetic car chases and an endearing sense of rhythm. - BABY DRIVER

Eels creepily slither around a woman in a tub in an otherwise completely forgettable, indulgent film - A CURE FOR WELLNESS

Adam Sandler winningly loses his shit as he searches for a parking space. - THE MEYEROWITZ STORIES - NEW AND SELECTED

“See!  I took you on a safari!” exclaims Brooklyn Prince to her friend as they stand in front of a herd of cattle. - THE FLORIDA PROJECT

An ape, bigger than ever portrayed before, emerges out of nowhere and swats down helicopters like flies as the camera gloriously swirls around him.  It’s APOCALYPSE NOW’s famous attack scene, but this time the invaded kick the invaders’ asses. - KONG: SKULL ISLAND

A messy trainwreck of a person (Anne Hathaway) lugs a mattress around town and literally confronts her inner demons. - COLOSSAL

A major character unexpectedly spits up blood on another, in a shocking moment (and there are a few in this film) I’ll remember for a long time. - THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI

French ACT-UP AIDS activists throw blood all over the offices of a pharmaceutical company, and heroically help change the speed at which drugs were approved for a population in desperate need of good news. - BPM

Despite being a thrilling adventure film, the quiet moments, such as the wonderful final shot of a woman walking out of a room and into the jungle, made this stirring yarn into something more internal and thoughtful. - THE LOST CITY OF Z

By this time, we’ve seen too many cars racing around, so instead we focus on the pleasure of seeing a dreadlocked Charlize Theron deliciously chewing the scenery from the evil lair of her jet, sending her into Faye Dunaway territory. - THE FATE OF THE FURIOUS

The unexpected death of a major star, as a gelatinous, alien creature slides down his throat, destroying him from the inside out in zero gravity, may feel straight out of the ALIEN textbook, but it’s memorable nonetheless. - LIFE

I’m usually not a sucker for Disney movie songs, but I have not been able to get EVERMORE out of my head ever since I saw the film, and I mean that in a really good way. - BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

Same goes for Elvis Costello’s fantastic contribution with YOU SHOULDN’T LOOK AT ME THAT WAY, from a beautiful but not-great movie. - FILM STARS DON’T DIE IN LIVERPOOL

Instead of the chestburster, we get the backbreaker, and instead of John Hurt, we get a character we don’t care about…but it STILL manages to be freaky and cool in an otherwise execrable film. - ALIEN: COVENANT

Can we please distribute LICK MY ASS, DIANE t-shirts to every person on earth, or at least make it THE trending hashtag of the year?!! - I, TONYA

Gal Godot donning the titular, classic costume for the first time in the film, charges through the emotional No Man’s Land sequence and into our hearts. - WONDER WOMAN

A seemingly liberal father over-explains his love for Obama to his daughter’s new black boyfriend (Daniel Kaluuya), who makes the Dad feel ok about his issues with race.  It keenly pinpoints the struggle people of color have trying to make white people more comfortable about their discomfort. - GET OUT

Willem Dafoe’s Manager expertly takes charge of a potential child molester, demonstrating his heartwarming, soulful protection of the lovable but annoying little brats who live in his motel. - THE FLORIDA PROJECT

The camera whooshes from ground level to an overhead shot as a determined skater prepares for an important routine. - I, TONYA

Yes, the movie is an unholy mess, but Hong Chau’s “I go to Norway” speech is just a little masterpiece. - DOWNSIZING

Feet moving on red splotches of sand as they battle with their light sabers. - STAR WARS: THE LAST JEDI

A return to the iPhone footage he used in TANGERINE pays off perfectly in the final sequence, a rush of imagination, and a surprising and unforgettable place to take your little survivor of a main character, even if it’s potentially just a fantasy.  It doesn’t change the fact that a neglected but loved little girl wants a little escape. - THE FLORIDA PROJECT

[maggieisalarrie]

Titles: L

Learning to Breathe by youcomecrash (111k)

He’s playing football at one of the top universities in England and he should love everything about his life right now, but instead he’s moving backwards. How does your past fit into your present? Louis is still figuring it out.

led by your beating heart by missandrogyny (29k)

Nick leans over. "Oh," he says, his voice smug. "Who is that?"

Harry just blinks at his phone. "Um," he manages to stammer out.

"Who's that, Harry?" Nick asks again, but this time he raises his eyebrows and smirks. Harry knows Nick is just teasing, and that he's not really looking for new Harry Styles gossip, but, um. He might have found something. Accidentally.

Harry opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is another 'um'. He really needs to work on translating his thoughts into words. But then it probably wouldn't be any helpful right now, would it? His mind is as blank as a newly erased etch-a-sketch.

"Oh," Nick says again, this time gleefully, seemingly having picked up on Harry's distress. "Looks like we've got a story here! Are you going to call or delete her number?"

Her number. So Nick thinks it's a girl. Well, Harry can't blame him: 'Lou' is kind of an androgynous nickname. His stylist's name is Lou.

But this Lou, well, Louis, he's kind of, really, really not a girl. He's really pretty though, which, is something.

(Or: AU where Harry's in One Direction, Louis isn't, and they reconnect over a game of 'Call or Delete'.)

Lego House by danceinstylinson (144k)

Louis Tomlinson was just about at the end of his rope, caught up in the mess he’d created for himself, stranded at the center of a maze. Harry Styles was doing just fine the way thing were. He worked at night and slept through the day. He made enough money to just get by. Everything was fine. But one night seemed to change everything. Coming from very opposite sides of town, the two boys meet. One saves the other in more ways than one, and though neither expect a future extended past sunrise, fate seems to have other plans….

lightning before the thunder by delsicle (29k)

Harry came from one of the most powerful lines of fire mages in the country. He was supposed to be a natural at magic, a prodigy, even.

But instead he was in the X-Factor contestant house kitchen at two in the morning, wearing only his pants, and he had just set the stove on fire while making snacks for his bandmates and the boy he was in love with.

like an animal (i wanna feel you from the inside) by bottomlinsons (grimgrace) (4k)

Louis leans a little closer. It’s not difficult – not with the way he’s already pressed so close, straddling Harry’s hard hips with Harry’s equally hard dick nestled tightly between his cheeks.

The paramedic clears his throat and looks away.

(Harry and Louis get a little stuck. Literally.)

Like an Endless Summer by objectlesson (87k)

“You just wanna go fawn over Styles as soon as possible,” Zayn grumbles.

“I do not. Plus, he probably got ugly this year. Eighteen is an awkward time…I bet he’s got acne and one of those terrible fuckboy haircuts all the hipsters are getting these days, with the shaved sides? Just watch, the first year we’re gonna get any time together is gonna be the first year I don’t have a stupid crush on him.”

—

Or, Louis is a riding instructor at a summer camp, and Harry is a fellow counselor who he’s been successfully managing his crush on for the last two summers. That is, until Harry shows up this year leveled up and lethal, and all Louis’s formerly perfected veneer of nonchalance melts like a popsicle in the sun.

Like Candy In My Veins by littlelouishiccups (32k)

“Um…” Harry said slowly after a moment. “Okay. That’s… this is… Let me get this straight.” He lifted up a hand and swallowed. “You told your family that you have a boyfriend… and my name was the first one you thought of?”

“Harry Potter was on TV, alright? It wasn’t that much of a stretch.” Louis pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t believe he was explaining himself to Harry fucking Styles. He couldn’t believe he was stooping this low. “Forget it. I’m sorry I even thought about bringing you into this.”

Harry snorted. “What? Did you want me to pretend to be your boyfriend or something?” (Basically the A/B/O, enemies to lovers, fake relationship, Christmas AU that nobody asked for.)

like how your hands feel me up and down by ballsdeepinjesus (8k)

“How do I look?” Harry asks lowly. He turns around and gestures towards the unzipped back of his skirt for him to help. Louis stumbles forward and places a cold hand on the exposed side of Harry’s stomach, steadying him while he pulls the zipper up the rest of the way. He pushes Harry back into the dressing room and stands behind him in front of the mirror. “It’s -- you’re tight,” Louis chokes. “It’s tight, I mean. It’s. Yes.” His hand is curved around his hip now, squeezing lightly.

“Tight’s good, right?” Harry murmurs, batting his eyelashes. He almost can’t believe himself.

“Very good,” Louis grunts.

[louis works in a halloween shop and harry needs a costume]

Like to Keep You Laughing by kikikryslee (13k)

Louis gasped. “Are you straight? Oh, I'm sorry, man. You should’ve just told me; I would’ve left you alone.” “No, no, that’s not it," Harry said. "I like guys. I definitely like guys.” “OK…” “Louis, I’m ace.” Louis snorted. “Kind of full of yourself, aren’t you?” --- Or, the one where Louis is a frat boy who likes to hook up and Harry is someone who doesn't hook up ever.

Little White Lies by xxSterre (13k)

"I lied when I got my job.

I told them I had a kid so I could leave early 'to pick him up from day care', to take him to doctors appointments and occasionally miss a day 'when he's sick'. Long story short – I'm in too deep. I didn't think this through.

Looking to rent a kid for bring your child to work day. Must be a boy aged 4 to 6 with curly hair who plays soccer, essentially he has to look like the stock photo in the frame on my desk. Also must be artistic as the macaroni noodle drawings I made seem a little advanced for someone his age. He also needs to respond to 'my Little Picasso' as that's what my spouse and I call him. Also I will pay extra for someone willing to play the role of my spouse when dropping him off. His name is James, he's named after his grandpa and he's a defense attorney who often brings his work home.

You know what, just message me for the details, serious inquiries only. H."

Or, the AU based off of that one Craigslist post - how a little white lie takes on an enormous snowball effect, that might accidentally include a Tomlinson too.

Part 1 of Little White Lies

little wings on my shoes by juliusschmidt (39k)

You have C Lunch?” Louis asks, peering over at Harry's work. The problem Harry’s just finished is printed neatly, the correct answer circled. Harry’s finger marks the next problem in his book as he copies it onto the page. It doesn’t look like he’s stealing the answers out of the back. Nice.

He’s dimpled and smart.

And probably gay.

[The American High School AU in which no one is cool (except Niall) and Harry wears a rainbow bracelet.]

Lonely King by Lustforfrosting (40k)

When Louis' parents pass away in a car accident, he inherits a cottage in the woods of Scotland. He ends up spending the summer there; unraveling secrets, mending bonds and creating memories with his best friends.

Lost in You by loviedovielou (16k)

Harry is nineteen and thinks kissing is weird. This is his first problem, but certainly not his last.

love is a word (you gave it a name) by hattalove (21k)

“It’s worth it anyway,” says Harry, looking into Louis’s eyes. He’s untucked his hair from behind his ear, and it falls down in silky strands to obscure his face. He looks so painfully young, even after everything. Louis’s strong, strong boy. “Just for the two of us. We get to be selfish for a little while.”

it's christmas. in between snowman building, tree shopping, and ill-advised skating on a frozen lake, louis and harry get ready to take the most important step of their lives.

love with every stranger, the stranger the better by leighbot (9k)

He looks over the books in front of him and then- past them- to his laptop charging on his desk, taunting him about the two essays he’s got to start on in order to finish them both on time.

He definitely doesn’t have time for a party.

Or, the one where Niall drags Louis to a campus fancy dress party and Louis channels his inner Green Lantern to approach the lad he's been crushing on all year.

Love’s Truest Language by summerwine (48k)

The first part was meant as a joke. He didn’t really expect Harry to buy anything. It was just Louis’ way of softening the ‘get the fuck out’ blow.

“Where’s your order forms, then?”

“I don’t want your flowers.” Louis chided before directing all of his attention to the arrangement in front of him.

Harry laughed under his breath as he stood to his full height, “Who said anything about them being for you, love?”

Loving You Is Free by littlelouishiccups (68k)

Louis is a workaholic record label CEO who hasn't been on a date in nearly a year. Niall and Liam make an account for him on a sugar dating website as a joke. And then Louis meets Harry.

Part 1 of Loving You Is Free

Last edited: September 6, 2017

Done here? Go back to my Recommended Fics → 

[thefantasysuite]

Do you want a girl or a woman?

Remember how Nick tried to convince everyone on bachelor in paradise that he’s actually a good guy trying to find love and not just out and about whoring around? Remember how he threw it all away last night? This guy doesn’t get it. This is your 4th time on the show because what you are doing previously isn’t working. Yes, Corrine is really hot and is DTF when she isn’t sleeping, but can’t you get that anytime you want? You're 36 bro. You aren’t in a frat anymore. You need to decide if you want a wife or a fuck buddy. This might be the best looking most down to earth cast I’ve seen on this show. There is a big difference between ending the show feeling like your in paradise, and ending up back on bachelor in paradise.

We start this episode cleaning up after last episode. Nick tells everyone that he and Liz got after it at Jade and Tanner’s wedding with this little shit eating grin on his face:

No big reactions from any of the ladies when this news is revealed. The cocktail party is spent mostly with each talking to him about how they feel about it, except of course Corrine. This news about Liz has made her think she needs to step her game up. She decides to channel her inner Ali Larter and go all Varsity Blues on Nick with some whip cream body art:

Corrine being the classy lady that she is wasn’t as quite provocative with the placement, but she still got Nick to lick her boob. They are interrupted by Jasmine which sends Corrine back to her room in tears and eventually falling asleep. She already has a rose so no need to show up to the ceremony, right?

Rose ceremony has 3 girls end up saying their goodbyes:

Can someone explain to me how Josephine is still there and Hailey isn’t? Just to give you a visual recap. Nick sent this girl home:

(Sorry for blurriness)

...over a girl that looks like the rejected sister from Hocus Pocus:

Maybe Corrine’s whip cream incapacitated him in some manner.

The next day we have the group date. They get to dance with the backstreet boys. Are they still a thing? Do they make new music? I’m not trying to find out because I don’t want that in my browser history. No Google, I’m not interested in backstreet boys tour dates. The girls are going to be on stage later that night so they start practicing with a little choreographed routine planned dancing. It is here we find out that Corrine can’t dance. I think she can dance, but it’s probably more Jersey Turnpike and less routine based. This of course sends her running into the bathroom crying. Not sure if she took a nap afterwards. Girls get up on stage and the BS Boys select Danielle L as the winner. Her and Nick dance, they serenade them, Corrine is not happy. She has a little chat with Nick at the after party and then decides to take a nap. After awaking from her slumber she informs everyone that she has a nanny. Do you think Chris Harrison will let Corrine take her nanny with her to bachelor in paradise next year? Could be a good love interest for Jorge the bartender (and not because the nanny is probably Hispanic, it just worked out that way). Anyway, I’m pretty sure that most rich families that still have an adult child living at home with them have a Spanish speaking housekeeper:

One on one this week goes to Vanessa. Full disclosure, I’m a big fan of Vanessa. What is not to like? Gorgeous, smart, hot as hell. That’s why I think she’ll be the bachelorette. Nick won’t pick her because he’s a moron and everyone else watching this show will fall in love with her when she is inevitably dumped for the most insane reason ever. Back to the date. Vanessa and Nick get to experience zero gravity in some sort of fancy airplane. It could have been Nick, but I think it was the zero g’s that Vanessa ended up throwing up. They had bags on standby, but I’ll admit I was a little disappointed that we didn’t get to see any space chunks floating by. For some reason a little puke didn’t stop them from making out shortly after. Once back on the ground the two space cadets had a nice little dinner. During conversation Nick starts tearing up because of how awesome Vanessa is. If girl is just talking and you get emotional out of nowhere, prob should give her the final rose right now because you know he’s going to screw it up between now and then. I mean we didn’t even get to the end of the episode where he already tried throwing it away (more on that in a bit). As I’ve said multiple times, this cast is one of the best but right now it’s; Happiness = Vanessa > everyone else. The only problem is that Nick is the one trying to solve the equation.

Last group date involves track and field and former Olympians, of which the most noteworthy is Carl Lewis. While Carl will forever be celebrated for his accomplishments at the Olympics, Charlie Steiner and I will always remember him for this:

The girls are asked to do silly challenges to show their love for Nick. Jaime the lesbian somehow isn’t good at any of them. One girl noted that Astrid needed an extra bra, or 3. Speaking of Astrid she won the challenge and was rewarded a dip in the hot tub with Nick. Later that evening Nick made out with as many girls as he could. He decided to do so on a picture of himself from the track and field date with Alexis. I guess making out on yourself is better than making out with yourself, right A-Rod:

Dominique commits the tragic mistake of confronting the bachelor about things not being fair for her. She is met with a quick kick to the curb. Rachel ends up getting group date rose.

Chris Harrison announces that Nick wants to have a pool party instead of the traditional cocktail ceremony. We cut to Astrid who is lotioning and oiling her big naturals:

This pool party turns into a 2 person party when Corrine invites Nick into the bouncy house that appeared out of thin air in front of the house. She pretty much dry humps him while others looks on in horror. Most girl are appalled with what happened, Vanessa is appalled at Nick. She understands that the 24 year old that lives at home with a nanny might be a little frisky. The 36 year old trying to find love shouldn’t be so quick to entertain her. 

The episode ends mid conversation, but Vanessa isn’t happy. It’s obvious that she is the type of girl he needs. I hope she doesn’t win because she deserves better. Nick is a tool and will cheat on whoever wins this thing. Vanessa for ette.

See ya next week

- Nick