#he is so funny to me i m gonna throw him off The earth

[softshuji]

Fanon ran vs canon ran makes me die laughing

Fanon ran was all like yk cheating Playboy heartbreaker etc etc doesn't give a shit

And canon ran is like : he can't see for shit he has to lean close to see anything he sleeps all day and eats desserts

[whaleofatjme1920]

helo, i appear like a ancient curse from the shadows to ask if i can see headcanons for how scout, soldier, engineer, spy, and sniper would react to their SO carrying/trying to carry them? (i know that's a specific list m sorry) i thought it would be funny :] thanks!!

Scout, Soldier, Engineer, Spy and Sniper Getting Carried

[GN!Reader]

[Warnings: Like, none?]

[Reblogs are appreciated! <3]

Scout

You can't carry him I'm sorry. You come up behind him like a ghost or something and try to wrap your arms around his waist to lift him and he's just "NOPE" he likes being the strong person in the relationship. He is laughing while it happens though. Ends up wrestling you, picks you up instead. Both of you end up on the floor giggling. "Babe, gotta leave the muscle to ME"

Soldier

Yeah he loves it. At first he looks at you like?? "Cupcake, what is the meaning of this??" Because he thinks you're,,, and he doesn't mean this to me mean, not strong enough to hold the pure muscle he is but hey, it's a bonding exercise. Just explain it's for the good of America that you pick him up and it becomes a regular thing between the two of you.

Engineer

He laughs about it. "Honey pie, you're not gonna-" and the two of you tumble down to the floor laughing. He's completely taken off guard by you trying to lift him and ends up calling you his little "ant" because you can lift so much more than he expected. He still likes picking you up way more though! So, I feel the two of you just end up joking around with each other like that.

Spy

Doesn't want to admit that he finds it as cute as he does. He has that whole annoyed persona he needs to keep up and he's largely a "stoic" and charming man but he finds it funny. He has to hold back his laughter and playfully shoo you off. He gets very used to you surprise picking him up! But like some others here, he's more prone to picking you up himself. "You're lucky you're cute."

Sniper

You catch him so off guard that he laughs, and loudly at that. "What on earth are you doing, Roo??" Before you two both fumble to the floor giggling. He lets you try a few more times though! And you probably end up being successful for like a second or so. But he likes to playfully pick you up too. It's not graceful or anything, just throws you over his shoulder and calls it a day.

[avengersnewb]

Here to Stay

“Didn’t know you’ve been added to the roster,” Rhodey says, filling the electric kettle, turning it on. “It’s a big help though, much appreciated.” He gets the tea bag and chucks it into a red pot. “It’s not so much that there is a lot of work, it’s just that he—you’ll see. He just doesn’t want anyone around.”

He leans against the cupboard, throwing the towel on the back of a chair, and for a moment they stare at the kettle, listening to the low hiss, the water slamming against the confines.

“Pepper hired four different people as stay-in help. The most patient one stayed for 36 hours. He doesn’t know we have a schedule to help out, because we mix it up, we even let him stay on his own a night here and there, just to throw him off. It’s not easy to fool—”

The kettle comes to a boil and starts to whistle. Rhodey turns to fill the pot, and Steve watches the tension, tight in his shoulders. “I’m sure Nat has already filled you in. It’s been one hell of a few months.”

Steve doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t say that Nat, in fact, has not said a word about any of that. He doesn’t say that Tony knows already that they are doing a roster, wondering when Steve will finally show up like all of his other friends to help out. Something feels funny in his chest, and his throat is a little tight.

“Here,” Rhodey says, pouring the tea into a mug. “One honey, and then you have to leave it for three minutes exactly before it’s in his hands. He’ll know if it’s one second late.” He laughs and pushes the mug forward across the kitchen counter toward Steve.

“Me?” Steve asks, reaching for the mug.

“Yeah, of course. He’s all yours now, I’m gonna pop into his room, say my goodbyes, and be gone before he kicks me out for real this time.”

And…he actually does that. He’s gone before the three minutes–that Steve is dutifully counting in his head–is over.

Tony’s making his way slowly back to the living room when Steve comes out of the kitchen. Should Steve go ahead and help him out? He knows that the right way to provide help is to ask if it’s needed but the person who needs help is Tony, and Steve is, well, Steve. What on earth is he supposed to do?

“Do you need help, Cap? Having trouble coming close enough to give me my tea? It’s getting cold, you know, if—”

“No, no, I’m fine.” Steve almost runs a few feet of distance to Tony, and stops too late, almost bumping into him. “I’m—” he says out of breath, taking a step back “—fine.”

Tony raises an eyebrow and tilts his head to the side. “Yeah. I can see that.” He shrugs and lowers himself, landing gracefully on the couch. He then holds his hand out. “Do you mind?”

Steve considers him for a moment, and it takes him a few more to realize what Tony is asking. “Sure, of course.” He hands the mug to Tony, taking a few more steps back.

Perfect.

Now he is standing in the middle of Tony Stark’s living room, and Tony is watching him as he raises the mug to his lips as if Steve is on some sort of twisted display.

Steve would stare back, if it was a different time.

If it was back in 2012 when they all lived in the tower, those few months when Tony had broken up with Pepper, when Steve would allow himself to believe that there was intention behind every dirty joke, every lingering touch, those pants that would make Steve’s mouth go dry at the possibilities—Steve would have flirted back.

But it’s not another time.

The burn marks covering the right side of Tony’s face are real. The pain, the wounds, the canyon between them—it’s all real. So Steve smiles, dips his head, and looks at his shoes, for as long as it takes for Tony to get bored with watching Steve squirm under his gaze.

“Cap?” Tony says, after finally taking a loud gulp of the tea, and Steve lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I can’t drink this,” he gestures to the mug as Steve looks up at him. “Too cold.”

-----

My entry for @stevetonyisendgame mini exchange written for @jetblackfeeling 😊

Here to Stay (M, 5.5k)

Steve visits Tony (not unscathed but alive) in his cabin, post-endgame, and stays there longer than intended, because they have so much to do and because Tony never tells him to leave. Endgame fix it, fluff, getting together, no one dies, hurt/comfort, precious Morgan Stark

[im-in-vin-ci-ble]

Hello~ Can I request a Mark x fem reader who’s a lot like starfire and is very Powerful close to omni man and is also an alien princess but she lives on earth and they go to the same school and she’s also a solo hero who one day sees invincible fighting off a tough villain with the teenteam but is losing so she steps in to help and he recognizes her and starts getting all nervous since he has a crush on her and then after that they introduce themselves get to know each other and eventually work they’re way up to mark confessing and she says yes :3

(If possible can it be a slow burn im a sucker for slow burn tropes and stuff 😤)

A/N: I gotchu, this bout to be a lil long 😮‍💨 making the fem!reader a little more human, figured since she’s in an actual school for humans she’d need to adapt to the humor/culture so she doesn’t get suspicious

Pairing: Mark Grayson x Fem!Reader

Rating: M, some swearing and gross monster guts

Warnings: N/A

Summary: Mark is finally joined in battle by an alien princess who has caught his attention. Turns out she goes to the same high school, and if he can throw around 150-pound monsters across the street, surely he can confess his true feelings to a girl... right?

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?!" Rex Splode yelled as he wobbled up off the ground. "We've been on this thing for hours and it only has one damn cut!"

"Calm down Rex," Atom Eve said from behind, "You're gonna get even more tired from yelling."

The two watched as Dupli-Kate attempted to distract the scaly kaiju, replicating herself second after second to give space for Invincible to hit the monster by surprise. The kaiju's screech echoed throughout the city and shook the foundations of the surrounding buildings, forcing Rex, Atom Eve and Robot to move aside and save however many civilians they could.

"Invincible," Dupli-Kate shouted, "I can't keep up much longer!"

A sonic boom overcame the surrounding noise and Invincible appeared from the clouds. Dropping in at maximum speed, the young superhero balled his hand into a fist and took a deep breath. A loud battle cry escaped his mouth but it was cut short as the kaiju's heavy arm slapped him away just in time, throwing him through destroyed buildings until he landed on the pavement.

Out of breath, dizzy, and in a serious amount of pain, Invincible laid on the broken road for a second to regain his strength. The wind softly blew down on him as he focused his sight on a contrail leading towards him, and he watched as a girl in purple land right next to him.

She bent down and held him upright, "Invincible, are you okay?"

"Mmhmm," Invincible croaked with a defeated smile, "Totally fine."

His sight reverted back to normal and the first face he saw shocked him alive. It was her. They never talked in school and he was almost sure she didn't know his real name, but here she was, basically cradling him in her arms and calling him Invincible.

So she knows who I am. At least with the suit.

"Come on, that kaiju is about to be destroy the entire city," she said, helping him get back on his feet and flying away to the seemingly unbeatable figure.

He huffed, "Stay cool, Mark. She's here to help," and he followed suit.

This marked the first time he really interacted with the new superhero; he'd only ever see her on TV or read about how she saved people on the newspaper. He'd be lying if he said he didn't find her attractive — as do most guys his age — but watching her blast the kaiju with the green bursts of energy from her hands made her only even more appealing.

Invincible regrouped with the rest of the Teen Team. "I don't know what else we can do to this thing," Atom Eve admitted.

"I do," the girl spoke up. "Distract it as best as you can but stay far away from the stomach. When I tell you to take cover, make a run for it."

Robot replied, "That seems highly dangerous."

"Let's do it," Invincible quickly replied in a high-pitched voice.

Everyone looked over at him, surprised at the sudden change in his voice and just how fast he reacted in agreement. 

"Uh, it's a good plan," he nodded, causing the girl to shoot a warm smile his way. "I definitely think we should do it... if all of you... uh, think, we should."

Exhausted and out of options, the rest of the group followed her orders and took different corners of the monster. Dupli-Kate handled one leg, Rex Splode handled the other, Robot and Atom Eve took the arms, and Invincible went back to the head. The kaiju struggled to keep its focus on just one of the heroes, and while it remained preoccupied, the girl absorbed all the energy she could muster and flew straight for the stomach.

"Take cover, now!"

Invincible and the Teen Team moved away and they watched as the flying hero's eyes opened in a bright shade of neon green, both her arms extended out as a large ball of green formed around her hands. The rays exploded right through the kaiju and it shrieked in pain as she briefly disappeared into the stomach. The kaiju lost balance and slowly fell forward as the girl, her eyes still green, appeared on the other side and harshly fell down on the ground.

The kaiju landed on the street with a loud boom and the group ran towards the girl who was now covered in parts of the kaiju's digestive system.

"Okay, that's kinda gross," Rex Splode commented, to which Dupli-Kate quickly responded, "Shut up."

Invincible dropped down on his knees and wiped the blood and guts off her face. Subtly admiring her facial features up close, he couldn't believe (and almost felt stupid) that he never recognized her despite the fact that he almost saw her everyday.

The girl groaned in agony softly shook her head, her eyes fluttering open to the sight of Invincible's dark hair, goggles and yellow mask.

"Hey, hey," he whispered, "Are you alright?"

She sat up and hissed at her injuries, holding her head with her bloody hand. "Mmhmm," she gently nodded with a half smile, her eye one still shut. "Totally fine."

---

Mark had a hard time focusing on school. His body ached from yesterday's injuries and he suffered a few bruises from literally tearing through buildings. He made his way to his locker and rested his head on the metal door, dreading the fact that he still has an entire afternoon of classes to go. Closing his eyes in hopes to quickly recharge, his moment of peace was disrupted when a shoulder rammed into his chest and several books landed right on his toe.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry," a voice exclaimed.

Mark's head snapped up at the sound of the voice. It's her. He momentarily froze and watched the girl bend down to pick up her things, and when he finally regained movement a split second later, he also bent down to help her out. He kept quiet as he tried to think of the coolest possible response to make her think that he was actually the coolest guy in school, but all he could think of was how heavenly and badass she looked yesterday.

"Thanks," she said as he handed her the book. "I hope your foot doesn't bruise."

They both stood up and he shot her a nervous smile. "T-totally fine," he replied, clearing his throat afterwards.

She crossed her brows at his response and nodded, and a look of suspicion replaced her worried demeanor.

"I'm Mark, by the way," he cleared his throat again and reached out his hand, "Grayson."

"Mark... Grayson, huh?" she responded, scanning his face as her suspicion grew. Her eyes finally landed on the hand that was waiting, and she took one last look into his eyes before deciding to shake it. "I'm Y/N," she introduced herself with a skeptical smile, feeling his sweaty palm wrapped around hers. "I'll see you around, Mark Grayson."

She walked away and Mark's eyes followed her trail as far as he could see. He quickly pulled out his phone to send a text to Eve, who was actually watching their interaction a few classrooms down.

"Mark," Eve called out as she moved towards him. “So I’m assuming...”

"You knew?” he asked her in disbelief. “Why didn't you tell me Y/N was a superhero? I just introduced myself to her as Mark Grayson and I'm almost positive she knows I'm Invincible."

"First off, it's not my secret tell," she answered with a shrug. "Second, you guys didn’t trade secrets or whatever?”

Mark shook his head in a panic, "No, but I'm guessing she also knows that I know her secret the same way I know she knows my secret." He rested his forehead on the locker door once again and groaned, "Ugh, I'm so into her, it isn't even funny. And this whole superhero thing just made it even more awkward."

Eve laughed, "Look, I'm not going to force her to tell you if she isn't up for it, but if you want, I can ask her to hang out with us later. Maybe — emphasis on maybe — my presence will make her comfortable enough to admit who she is."

"Okay, okay," he sighed, turning around to rest the back of his head. "My insides are dying."

"After the kaiju yesterday, be thankful you don't mean that in a literal sense."

---

Where in the hell is Eve?

Mark pulled out his phone for the third time in 10 minutes. Still no call or response from Eve to his text. He was getting evidently nervous; his palms were sweaty again and it felt like someone turned up the heat in Burger Mart. His left leg jerked up and down in anxiety as he stared at his phone, looking at the seconds on the clock icon tick by. If he were left alone with Y/N, he'd have no idea what to say. What does she like? Should I bring up the kaiju yesterday and praise Invincible? No, she'll just think I'm full of myself.

"Hey Mark."

He jolted and saw Y/N standing by the corner of the booth. "Hi!" he replied in that irritatingly high-pitched voice. Mark's heart began to race and the thoughts in his head ran wild. "Um... Have a seat. Sorry Eve isn't here yet, she actually hasn't answered my calls or my messages. Teenage girls, huh? What can you do?"

She crossed her brows again and chuckled, "That's fine, we can wait for Eve. But I think I'm more concerned about you."

"What do you mean?"

Y/N chuckled again, "You seem... nervous.”

He faked an obnoxiously loud laugh, “Me? Nervous?”

She watched him from across the table in silence, waiting for him to regain his composure.

When Mark couldn’t hear Y/N laughing with him, he finally shut up and shook his head. “Yeah, I am nervous, sorry,” he admitted, shutting his eyes tight. 

She giggled, “Totally fine.”

Hearing her say those two words calmed his racing heartbeat. A smile crept on his face and she reciprocated, their eyes locking for a few seconds before both their phones buzzed.

“Oh, I just got a text from Eve,” Mark said. 

“Me too.” She opened the message and began to read it out loud, “Sorry, can’t make it tonight. Something came up.”

“Have fun, you two,” he followed, his voice faltering. He placed his phone, screen down this time, back on the table and sighed, “Sorry, guess you’re stuck with me. That is, if you do want to stay and... hang out, and stuff.”

"Why wouldn’t I?” she replied, her warm smile easing Mark back into a relaxed state. “It’s nice to have a friend who...” she trailed off, “understands.”

“Understands what?” he asked.

“This thing people like us call life,” she answered. “You know, it took me a long time to acclimate here. I didn’t think I ever would, then I met friends who made this place feel like home. And home is a feeling I hadn’t felt in a really long time.”

Mark rested his elbows on the table and leaned in closer, “Well, I’m always here. You know, a-as a friend... or an acquaintance, even. I don’t, I don’t want to push it.”

Y/N giggled again, “You’re a funny man, Mark Grayson. This planet is lucky to have someone like you.” She reached out and held his hand, “And I’m even luckier to have you as a friend, or an acquaintance.” 

He felt the heat rush to his face and he could swear his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. The afternoon flew by in a hurry as they engaged in lengthy conversations, fatty fast food, and childhood stories. While Mark was open to sharing every tiny detail — down to the color of the bleachers at the park where he played little league — Y/N kept hers pretty vague, leaving out descriptions of family members and even the places where these stories happened. 

Mark’s phone buzzed again, but the vibrating pattern indicated it was a phone call. He turned the screen over and saw the unknown number; it was time to suit up.

“Shit, I’m sorry Y/N, but I need to go,” he said in a rush. “I have a... uh, an emergency.”

You couldn’t have thought of anything more specific?

“It’s cool. Um, don’t worry about it,” she said, shaking her head with her eyes glued to the vibrating phone. 

Mark’s one leg was already out the booth before he decided to finally just go for it. Sitting back down with his now quiet phone in his hands, he took a deep breath.

“Y/N, I think you’re really cool. Can I maybe, like, call you sometime, or something?”

Her lips formed into smile that extended to her eyes, and it was enough for Mark to melt a little. “Of course. Yeah, sure,” she replied in excitement and typed down her number on his phone. She handed it back, “Now you know how to reach me if you’re getting your ass whooped again.”

His mouth fell open as his shaky hands grabbed his phone. “Wait—”

She smoothly slid out of the booth, “See you later, Invincible,” she winked, “Don’t get killed today.”

---

Luckily for Mark, no one got killed today. Maybe a few wounds here and there, but nothing painful enough that will land him in the GDA hospital. After spending an hour in the shower, he finally managed to lie down on his bed and rest his body. He sank into the mattress and closed his eyes, taking in the seconds of undisturbed peace that have become rare moments since he got his powers. 

As he replayed the events of today’s fights in his head, his mind drifted off to the hours he spent with Y/N. He pulled out his phone and mustered the courage to press the dial button, and the repeating sound of the ringing was making his pulse race. 

“Hello?”

“Oh good, you didn’t die today.”

Mark chuckled and sandwiched his hand between his head and the pillow. “It wasn’t that bad today, just took a few hits,” he explained. “So listen, Y/N, I was wondering, uh—”

She cut him off, “What are you doing right now?”

“What?”

“What are you doing right now?” she repeated.

“Um, nothing, just getting some rest” he sat up and looked around. “Why?”

“If you’re not too tired, do you maybe...”

Mark smiled, “Maybe...?”

“I don’t know, sneak out? My roof is pretty comfortable.”

Silently fist pumping, he fully stood up and nodded, “Text me the address.”

Just as quietly as he exited his room via the window, he softly landed on Y/N’s roof. Swiftly flying up and greeting him, she took the place next to him and crossed her legs. 

“You’re right, your roof is pretty comfortable,” Mark said.

She chuckled at his remark then noticed a gash by his right temple. Her brows furrowed in worry, “You have a wound,” she said, making sure not to touch it.

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied, softly holding her hand and placing it back down with his. “Totally fine.”

Those words brought her some sense of comfort as her eyes softened, causing her to unconsciously squeeze his hand. Mark’s eyes widened and he looked down at their tangled fingers, frozen for a moment.

“Is this... okay with you?” he asked.

She nodded. “Wanna lie down? Since my roof is so comfortable?” she asked with a smirk.

“Sure,” Mark chuckled, removing his hand from her’s and stretching his arm out as they lied down. Y/N rested her head on his shoulder, keeping her eyes up at the stars.

“Hey Mark?”

“Yeah?”

A moment of silence.

“Thank you for coming.”

He looked down at her as she met his eyes, “You’re welcome.” 

The two shared a smile, and Mark took a deep breath as he prepared himself for the words that were about to come out of his mouth.

It’s now or never, Mark. Now or never.

“Watching you kick ass yesterday was... really a sight to see,” he began. “You’re powerful and strong, but more importantly, brave. And you’re so fucking beautiful and kind and smart and...” Mark trailed off, sighing, “I never thought I would be in this position — with you next to me in a very comfortable rooftop under the stars.”

“Mark...”

“And I really like you. Like, really, really like you.”

“Mark.”

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, but I just wanted to let you know. It’s important that you know—”

“Mark,” she cut him off. “I like you too. A lot.”

He breathed a sigh of relief and covered his eyes with his free hand. “Oh thank god. Thank god!” he exclaimed.

Y/N shushed him, “You’re gonna wake up the neighborhood, Invincible.”

“Sorry,” he giggled quietly, “I got excited.”

She laughed and faced her body towards him. They locked eyes again, and Mark didn’t know if it was gravity or just the adrenaline that pushed him, but he finally leaned down and met her lips. Static ran through his body as he deepened the kiss, and he felt an excitement that was even more exhilarating than the first time he flew.

She pulled away and Mark ran his hand through her hair, resting his hand on her cheek. “How was that?” he asked.

She smiled gently and placed her hand over his, “Totally fine.”

[1kook]

commercial break ; NINE

this is part of my netflix & chill series!

SUMMARY “I think that, like— me and you? We’re like, totally destined,” you ramble, “you should, like, take my number! And maybe we can, like— Netflix and chill one of these days?” WARNING angst with implied smut at the end!!, flashbacks, low self esteem, alcohol consumption, jk is (implied) a virgin in this, there’s a lil fondling by oc u know the usual  MISC they r soulmates <3, our queen doyeon returns, i tried to use symbolism👁 in the dialogue so yes everything drunk oc says has a meaning hehe RATING m bc alcohol WC 2.2k

NOTES i said once a long time ago that n&c couple were prolly at the same party once but didn't realize so hERE WE GO ! its not proofread bc um. yeah<3

Homecoming week. 

Jungkook doesn’t even think his university’s football team is good, but he had read somewhere that part of the college experience is obnoxiously supporting this team all four years. And well. Jungkook wants to fit in. Frankly, Jungkook feels a little dumb having accepted this invitation from Kim Taehyung from his first-year writing class. He’s only known the man a solid four weeks, probably won’t know him this well once Taehyung finds real friends, ones who suit his outgoing personality, and decides Jungkook is too boring, but Jungkook will make the best of it while he can because, again, he wants to fit in. Badly. It’ll be different this time, he had told himself while getting ready. You won’t be awkward anymore. You’ll make friends. 

And then it’s nearing midnight and Jungkook has spoken to a whopping two people at this party of over a hundred. Not including Taehyung, it’s down to one. Even that had only been to ask where the bathroom was. He feels severely out of place, like he’s both too large and too small to be in this area, to be at this party, so he shuffles into the kitchen when he hears them call for another match of beer pong. He’s actually pretty good at the game, has refined his skills at get togethers with his older cousins. But it’s not like anyone here wants to be Jungkook’s partner anyway. Or even knows who he is for that matter. 

Taehyung had bumped into him a little past ten, had had two girls clinging to his sides when he had greeted Jungkook. One of them had almost looked tempted, Jungkook wanted to believe, brushing her hand against his arm. But he didn’t act quick enough— what would he even have done? what did he even want? —and Taehyung disappeared with both girls soon after, leaving Jungkook by himself once more. 

The kitchen is empty, the drinks long since having migrated to the living area of this huge frat. With a defeated sigh, Jungkook sinks back against one of the counters, setting his lukewarm cup of beer down beside him. He’s buzzed, drank in a feeble attempt to ‘lose himself’ as all the movies claimed. But now all he can feel is a pounding headache threatening to consume him. He doesn’t even like drinking— why did he drink this much? 

He should go home. 

Events like this, parties like this— they weren’t meant for someone like Jungkook. He was too quiet, too shy to let loose like everyone else. He doesn’t do well in social situations, or at least not as well as his therapist had told him he would. He hesitates too much, never speaks when he needs to. Haerim from his freshman basics class had even said so. “You’re quiet, huh,” she had smiled, and when her notebook had touched his elbow, he flinched. She didn’t take it to heart. Just like Taehyung wouldn’t if he left right now. They know how he is. He doesn’t belong here. These types of parties were made for outgoing people, people who lived on the edge, people who weren’t trapped in their own thoughts all the time, people like—

Like the girl who stumbles through the doorway now. “Woooo,” she slurs, and then promptly faceplants into the dirty tile of the kitchen, the same tile littered with sticky footprints and random debris. He can’t even imagine what else is on the floor of a frat house mid-party. Jungkook flinches at the sound of her knee hitting the ground, before rushing over to help her up. 

She’s a giggling mess, eyes half shut by the time Jungkook gets her into a seated position. “Are you okay?” he flounders, hand on her shoulder when she wobbles again, nearly falls back down. 

“Just peachy,” she sings, flashing him a sloppy thumbs up. Her neck isn’t doing a particularly good job of holding her head up and when Jungkook places a hand on the back of her head, she leans into it, blissful smile on her face. She’s really pretty, it makes Jungkook’s cheeks burn when she aims it at him next. “Pucca loves Garu,” she lets him know, eyes finally fluttering open. “He’s a pretty boy.”

Jungkook blinks. He has no idea what you’re talking about. “Huh?” he stutters, glancing back at the bar stool by the counter instead. It’s probably infinitely times better than the sticky tile beneath your bare legs. “I’m gonna stand you up,” he tells you, taking your loud cackle as a sign that you’re okay with it. Jungkook’s been working out all summer, so you’re not heavy in the slightest, arms thrown around his shoulders while he slips his own around your back. Your proximity leaves him drowning in your scent. 

The giggles don’t subside when he sits you down, not even when he begins opening random cabinets in search of a glass to get you some water. He’s had his fair share of experiences looking after drunk people, so he has a pretty good idea of what to do now. However, your sudden bout of commentary certainly doesn’t make it easier. “Isn’t it, like, super cool how the sun and the moon are, like—“ a hiccup, Jungkook settles on tap water “tooootally different beings, but, like— they, like, both maintain the earth?” Your hand reaches for his forearm when he returns, gives him this little squeeze in your excitement. “Like— Like they both have to, like— work together? To keep it perfect, y’know?” 

Jungkook pushes the water into your hands. You’ve got this sparkly sheen to your eyes, the one that most people get after one too many drinks, but it’s accompanied by this childlike wonder that leaves Jungkook breathless when you meet his gaze. “Yeah,” he says quietly. You beam. It’s blinding. So blinding that Jungkook promptly looks away, nudging the cup in your hands. “You need to drink this.”

You frown. “Boooo, so boring,” you huff. It’s nothing Jungkook hasn’t heard before, but it is a little disheartening to hear it from a stranger. He stamps the feeling down, pursing his lips as he gives up on letting you drink yourself. The cup is swiped from your hand and Jungkook tasks himself with making you drink it instead. And of course, like all wasted young adults, you put up a fight. “Ew, what is that?” you spit. 

Jungkook sighs. “Water.” 

At his defeated tone, the exaggerated grimace slips off your face, replaced with a rather solemn expression instead. Jungkook tries to take advantage of it and pushes the cup against your lip again, but all he really accomplishes is sloshing it down the front of your dress. You don’t yelp, but he does. “I’m so sorry,” he panics, sliding the sleeve of his shirt down around his thumb to wipe your chin. 

You let him, head tilted curiously to the side. Jungkook tries to ignore your analytical gaze until: “you’re cute,” you announce, and abruptly send him into shock. 

He recoils, face a blazing mess. “I’m—“ he chokes, swallowing when you wipe your hand down your own chest, leave a glistening layer of water over your sternum and down between your breasts. 

“Cute,” you repeat, downing the glass he had been trying to coax into you like it’s nothing now. With it gone, you don’t waste any time, throwing your hands around his shoulders, fingers brushing through the hair at the base of his neck. You pull him close, so close in fact, that he ends up having to hold the back of your chair to keep from accidentally crushing you with his weight. “Your name, pretty boy?” 

He can’t think. You’re so drunk and smell so good and are just so pretty— his brain short circuits. “Um I’m, uh, Jeon J—“

“Jeon,” you repeat, silly smile back on your face. You’re not technically wrong, so he nods along with a blush high on his cheeks. “Well, Jeon,” you purr, but you’re still so drunk, eyelids fluttering in a rather funny way. “I think that, like— me and you? We’re like, totally destined,” you ramble, “you should, like, take my number! And maybe we can, like— Netflix and chill one of these days?”

Jungkook doesn’t even know what that means, and honestly, he doesn’t really hear you over the thundering of his own heart and the bass in the other room. “Um, but you’re really…” he stammers, leaning back but a finger loops around one of his curls and he gasps when you pull at it. “You’re drunk,” he rushes out, lower lip trembling when your nose knocks against his. 

A soft hum, the sound sending electricity down his spine when you cup his cheek. “But don’t you think I’m pretty?” you murmur, eyes flickering to his mouth. 

“Yes,“ he chokes out, “you’re a very, very pretty girl. But I really shouldn’t—“

“Hey,” you shush, tilting his head just the slightest. Jungkook has never had a girl touch him like this, has never even touched a girl before either, but, well. He really wants to kiss you. And that’s saying a lot considering Jungkook has never kissed anyone before. 

Despite how good it feels, he knows you’re still really drunk. It’s with a decisive huff that he pushes away, hands on your waist to keep you from touching up on him any further. You’re not that strong anyway. And then he’s met with the biggest pout he’s ever seen, an absolutely distraught look on your face. 

Something in him says you’ll cry if he doesn’t explain himself soon, so he launches into it right away. “You’re very pretty,” he says, almost laughing at the way your entire face lights up immediately. “But you’re very drunk.” You huff. “You deserve to be treated like a queen.” Mostly regurgitating something he heard in a motivational video. 

It works. Eventually, you stop being fussy in his arms and settle with a frown. “You’re too nice,” you grumble, forehead on the countertop. He doesn’t see how it’s much better than the floor but he lets you be. “You got a girlfriend, don’t you?” 

At that, Jungkook laughs. “No,” he reassures you, hesitates, and then gently pats your back. Jungkook actually feels you melt under his touch. That sultry look is gone, replaced with this rather tranquil look that he doesn’t quite understand. 

“That was pretty,” you murmur, but Jungkook doesn’t quite hear. 

“What was that?” he asks.

“I said your smile was pre—“

“There you are!” someone hollers from the kitchen doorway, the shrill tone of their voice making both you and Jungkook jump. When he turns around, he’s met with the sight of a rather tall girl angrily stomping your way, eyes a blazing fire, fists clenched by her side. Jungkook realizes only a second too late that she’s looking at him. “Get off of her, you sweaty city-owned dumpster,” she hisses, using the strength of three football players to push Jungkook away. “You make me sick—“

“Doyeonie,” you beam, launching yourself into the angry girl’s arms. Ah. The Help had arrived. 

Said angry girl (Doyeonie?) is still using every mash-up of words possible to degrade Jungkook as she hauls you into her arms, shooting daggers every step of the way. “I can’t believe you would try to take advantage of a poor girl when she’s this drunk,” she spits. 

“What?” Jungkook coughs, cheeks warm. “I wasn’t—“

“Tell it to Campus Safety when I report you, you wannabe, dollar store Rain.” Jungkook clutches his chest at the acidity of her tongue, surprised anyone could be so mean. 

All things considered, this was actually good. Someone who knew you had come to take you to safety, meaning Jungkook didn’t have to look after you anymore. When this Doyeonie turns around, he’s met with your smiley face smushed against her shoulder. 

(It’s weird. He’s a little sad to see you go.) 

“Bye, Jeon,” you giggle, hand brushing down his arm, squeezing his hand, before you’re abruptly yanked away. Jungkook manages one weak wave, cheeks lit ablaze once more when you send him a silly air kiss from the doorway, urging him to catch it. He does, and he feels really silly when he puts it in his pocket, but he can hear your laughter for a second more before he loses you. 

The last few minutes being so hectic, he decides to go home. Parties weren’t really his thing. Jungkook doesn’t think he’ll ever go to one again. 

Until a few years later. 

“You’re, like, really pretty,” you slur, lips against his throat. Another invitation, this time, Taehyung’s birthday. His friend had practically begged him to come, knowing how Jungkook was. In the end, it had been you who had accepted on his behalf. 

“Baby, not here,” he laughs, hand on your shoulder when you try to shove your hand down his pants for the third time that night. 

Taehyung had been ecstatic to see Jungkook here. And then had quickly become annoyed when he caught the two of you making out in his storage closet an hour later. “Bro, don’t be that couple at parties,” he had groaned, locking the door behind him. 

Jungkook had laughed. “I wouldn’t know what ‘that couple’ is at parties,” he reminded him. 

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Well, I’m sure your girlfriend can fill you in.”

Apparently not. You’ve been trying to kiss him for the past three minutes but keep missing because you’re so drunk. “Just one,” you beg, so pretty but so drunk. The fake lashes you’d worn today make you look like a doll, batting them his way until he’s giving in, slotting his lips against yours. You’re probably going to throw up in his bathroom when you get home, so he should make the best of your kisses now. Jungkook pushes that thought aside as he reaches a hand out to wipe at the sweat accumulating on your chest. There’s something weird about the gesture, like he’s done it before at another party. But that doesn’t make sense; he couldn't have— this is his first party with you. 

“We should, like, leave,” you whisper against his ear, fingers burying themselves in his hair; when you pull on a strand, he nearly moans. “Go home. Maybe netflix and—“ a hiccup that makes him smile “—chill?”

Jungkook kisses your temple. “Sounds good to me, pretty girl.”

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[sapiowoman28]

Try (chapter 3): Mummy

Pairing: mark x female reader x Johnny

Genre: smut, fluff, undercover Au

Warnings: threesome, oral (m receiving), nipple sucking, daddy kink, mommy kink, Johnny is a soft dom, Y/N is a switch, mark is a bratty sub trying to irritate Y/N, cranky undercover agents, taeyong is a tyrant, Doyoung is a control freak, y/N is a rebel, Kun is a try hard, mark is a closet rebel

Friday came too soon. Mark started to get cold feet after lunch and by evening he couldn’t focus on anything.

A mix of anxiety and horniness engulfed him. He felt like pulling out. Yet he was curious to see how far things would go.

He was surprised they had asked him. Johnny and Y/n had been friends since they were teenagers. They must have had a million mutual friends they could ask. So why him?

He also wondered if he should bring along a bottle of wine. No, scrap that. Neither of them drank. Johnny as a police officer was finicky about having even a drop of alcohol because he drove, Y/N once told him. And Y/N was the sort who got tipsy on kombucha.

Time started to crawl. At 8pm Taeyong called.

“wassup?”

“Mark, can you for goodness sake reply to the text Doyoung sent you two days ago? He’s complaining you’re ignoring him.”

Well, Doyoung wasn’t wrong. As far as Mark was concerned the less Doyoung the better. He was recuperating anyway what the heck was he texting for? If he needed anything all he had to do was ask his darling Kun, whom he was sure was updating him on everything that was happening at work.

He told Taeyong he’d reply then chucked his phone aside in favour of a shower. Doyoung previously ignored his texts too. He was just returning the favour. Plus mark hated how he had treated Y/N in the past.

Mark thought about Y/n as he showered. He thought about wanking so that he’d be less sensitive later and take a longer time to come. But he was too nervous and tried as he did he just couldn’t get himself to orgasm.

He gave up. He just prayed they wouldn’t throw him out of the house for coming too fast.

Y/N had given him the password to the door. He keyed in the pin and entered the little hallway, taking off his shoes. He could hear the tv playing some show.

“Hey guys!” He called out

“Hey,” he heard Johnny.

He froze as he walked in. Johnny was seated on the sofa, legs spread wide, as Y/N kneeled between them, bobbing on his cock.

“Princess, Mark’s here.”

“I know.” She turned to look at him, eyes twinkling. “Poor baby looks terrified.”

Something stirred in him. She called him baby.

Johnny motioned him to sit. He sat on the single seater sofa next to them, watching. Y/N ignored him, going back to what she was busy with.

“You’re doing so well, princess. Sucking my cock so well.” Johnny cooed.

Mark felt like a third wheel, wondering if he should perhaps go. But he couldn’t move, too entranced by what he was seeing.

His mind what spinning. Should he touch her? Would Johnny touch him? He wasn’t sure how he would react to a guy touching him. He had never tried that before.

“Earth calling Mark!” She called. He snapped out of his thoughts.

“Yo. What do you guys want me to do?” Mark asked.

Johnny and Y/N looked at each other with smirks. She got up, walking over to Mark.

“Can I sit on your lap?” She asked, smiling cheekily. He nodded letting out a nervous giggle as she sat down, throwing her arms around his neck.

“It’s been 26 months you’ve wanted to do this Mark Lee. You now have my permission to kiss me.” She grinned.

He cupped her face, looking into her eyes.

“You have such nice eyes Mark. I’ve always loved your eyes,” she whispered, closing in for the kiss. He kissed her back fervently, sucking on her lower lip like his life depended on it.

Their tongues started dancing, pushing against each other. He held her tighter, head giddy from the kiss. She started grinding against him, cooing into his mouth.

“Mark, why don’t you help Y/N strip? Would you like Mark to help you princess?”

“Yes daddy,”

Mark let out a giggle. Y/N looked at him annoyed.

“What’s so funny? Say sorry to daddy or mummy’s not gonna play with you.”

Mark stiffened. Mummy?

“Hey, we forgot something, Y/N.” Johnny said. “Safe word!”

Y/N laughed. She cupped Mark’s face.

“Listen,” she said very gently. “it’s very important to Johnny and I that you are comfortable. If at any time you want to stop, the word is red. Got it?”

Mark nodded.

“How are you feeling now?” She asked.

“Green. So very green, yo” Mark said, pinching her cheek lightly.

“Great!” Johnny said, still chilling on the sofa stroking his hard on. “Get mummy out of her clothes, Mark.”

Mark and Y/N stood up. He started unbuttoning her blouse, making sure he was taking his time. Y/n was an impatient person and he wanted to tease her.

“For fuck’s sake Mark! I know you’re doing this on purpose.”

“Now now princess, let him take his time.” Johnny said.

Mark smirked. She was so riled up. He couldn’t wait to see what she would do. He slowly unbuttoned and removed the blouse. She was braless. He tried touching her breasts but she covered them by folding her arms in front of her.

“I didn’t give you permission. You need to ask.” She said, as if in retaliation for him taking his time.

“Please? Can I play with your tits?” Now he was the one losing patience.

“Please who?”

“Please mummy?”

She smiled, unfolding her arms “Go ahead baby.”

He lunged at her taking her right nipple in her mouth, sucking hard. Y/n grabbed his head closer against her chest, playing with his hair. They toppled onto the sofa next to Johnny. Johnny leaned over and started kissing Y/N passionately. He knew she was very eager to do more. But there was one thing he needed to do.

He broke the kiss “princess, why don’t you go to the bedroom, remove all your clothes and wait for us? I want to have a word with Mark.”

Mark took the nipple out of his mouth and sat up, wondering what was happening that they needed to speak separately.

She looked at Johnny puzzled.

“About what?” She asked.

“I’ll tell you tomorrow. Promise.” Johnny said.

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes and told them she’d be in the bedroom.

Mark turned to look at Johnny.

“So what’s up bro?” He asked.

“Listen, I need to tell you something important, but promise me you won’t judge me ok?” Johnny shifted nervously.

Mark held his breathe, this didn’t sound good.

[afeb]

Draco Malfoy - Ravishing

I walked out the Yule Ball early, a sickening feeling growing in my stomach as couples began to slow dance. It simply reminded I’d come here solo off the back of Hermiones advice: fat lot of good that was.

I wandered the empty halls of the castle, taking my heels off and walking bare foot. I watched as Draco, also alone, turned the corner ahead of me. I decided to follow him, having nothing better to do. I turned the same corner and frowned as he seemed to have disappeared.

“Follow me, Y/L/N?” I jumped as I peered behind a large black curtain, seeing Draco sat on a stone bench by himself.

I moved to sit across from him. “Better than being at that ball.” I sighed. “Where’s Pan?”

He shrugged. “Went off with some Slytherin.” He bitterly said. “Where was your date?”

“Didn’t have one.”

He scoffed and smirked. “Really?”

I frowned and folded my arms. “What’s so funny about that?”

He raised his hands. “Not funny, I’m just surprised.” He defended.

“Oh...” I sighed. “Well, thanks I guess.”

He leant back a little as his eyes trailed over me. “So what’s your ancestry?” He asked.

I frowned. “Why does that matter?”

He shrugged. “Just wondering.” He drawled out, when I didn’t reply he asked again.

“Just...witches and wizards, like everyone else.” I vaguely replied.

“So no muggles?” I shook my head. “So you’re a pure-blood?”

I scrunched my nose. “Don’t use that word.”

“What, muggles?” He smirked.

“No.” I snapped. “The P-Word.”

“Pure-blood.” He said loudly. I simply glared at him. “You know, you and I should really stick together.”

“And why’s that?” I asked.

“There aren’t many pure-blood families around anymore, everyone these days has some muggle in them.” He bitterly said. “How come I never knew? My family knows all pure-bloods.”

I stood and went to leave, finished with this conversation but Draco followed me. “My family aren’t like yours, we aren’t proud of our heritage.” I shortly said, heading towards the Ravenclaw home room.

Draco shoved his hands in his pockets. “They should be.” He said. “So you keep it a secret then?”

“As best I can.” I said as we stood outside the Ravenclaw painting.

He gazed at the portrait. “You’re not in Slytherin?” He asked.

I scoffed. “God no.”

He looked mildly offended before a smirked graced his face. “Well, I’ll leave you alone then.” He leant a little closer. “You look ravishing tonight by the way.”

Before I could respond Draco turned and cockily strolled away.

***

“I’m home!” I called into the house as I dumped my suitcase on the floor. “Hello?”

I walked into the kitchen where my mother and father were deep in conversation. “Ah, just the girl I wanted to see.” My father smiled as he enveloped me in a hug.

I chuckled and squeezed him tight. “What were you guys talking about?” I asked as I hugged my mother.

“This.” She handed me a letter.

Dear the Y/L/N Family,

You are cordially invited to the Malfoy Mannor for lunch on the 20th of December.

Please RSVP before attending.

Yours sincerely,

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy

I frowned down at it. “Well obviously we aren’t going.” My mother and father shared a look. “You aren’t seriously thinking about going.”

My mother stood by my side. “Your father seems to think he can convert them to our way.” She sighed. “I don’t.”

My father looked at both of us. “Look, we made a decision to incorporate the muggles way into our life, we said Y/N could see muggles if she wished. If our family can do it, maybe they can too.”

“Do you know anything about the Malfoys?” I asked. “They’re vile people.”

My father looked sternly at us both. “We’re going, end of.”

Both mine and my mothers mouths dropped. “I’m not being nice.” I said.

My father smiled and kissed my forehead. “I don’t want you to be.” He smirked before leaving the room.

***

Our carriage pulled up to the Malfoy Mannor, the family patiently stood on their doorstep. I rolled my eyes and looked over at my mother, who was doing exactly the same thing.

“If for nothing else, enjoy the food.” My father winced before opening the door and helping us out.

“Mr. Y/L/N,” Lucius opened his arms. “A pleasure to meet you!”

“And you.” My father curtly said.

They shook hands before the attention turned to my mother and I. “Are these beautiful ladies with you?” I wanted to gag.

“Yes, this is my wife, Y/M/N, and this is my daughter, Y/N.” I didn’t take the hand that was offered to me.

“Pleasure.” I shorty said, my eyes flicking to Draco as he held back a smirk.

“Please, come in.”

You wouldn’t believe Christmas was in five days. The house was dark and cold, no decorations what so ever apart from a feeble Christmas tree in their large living room. It was far too big and grandiose, it was cocky.

We were all soon seated around the table, an excessive amount of food laid out on the table. The servants placed napkins on our laps.

“Thank you.” I smiled brightly at the older lady.

“We don’t thank the help.” Lucius politely said.

“I do.” I innocently smiled back.

I saw Lucius fists ball for a second before he tightly smiled. I didn’t have too much food, more so pushed it around my plate to appear as though I was eating. My father and Lucius spoke about everything from politics to Hogwarts. Nacissa attempted to speak to my mother, but much like me my mother either ignored her or didn’t make an effort in the conversation.

Thankfully Draco didn’t speak to me, simply stared into space. “Draco,” his father said. “Why don’t you show the lovely Y/N around our house whilst we discuss other matters.”

“Yes father.” Draco said before standing, beckoning me after him.

I looked towards my mother who smiled encouraging, her eyes telling me to convince Draco of our ways. My father smiled brightly as I left the room, Draco leaning against the wall in the hallway. He perked up when he saw me.

“The lovely Y/N.” He mocked, offering me his elbow to hold.

I slapped him away. “Get on with it then.” I grumbled.

We didn’t speak as we wandered the house, ending up in the library upstairs. I gazed around the books as Draco watched me closely.

“You like reading?” He asked.

“Oh yes,” I sighed. “I love books. Any type, it doesn’t matter to me.” I turned to smile at him.

He stood and approached me, I grew a little uncomfortable as he reached over from behind me, his chest brushing my back. “This is my favourite.”

He pulled a small book from the shelf. “Tales of Beedle and the Bard.” I smiled. “My mother always read this to me.”

Draco smiled down at me. “I had a Nanny growing up and she always read me stories.”

We gazed at each other for a moment. “No muggle books, I see.” I noted, stepping away and looking out the window.

Draco scoffed. “Why an earth would we have those?”

I shrugged. “Some of them are good.” I defended, opening the small book in my hand and reading over it. “There’s an author called Terry Pratchet and he comes up with the most amazing stor-“

“I don’t care.” Draco snapped. “Whatever it is, it’s terrible. Everything they do is terrible.”

“And everything you do is so great?” I snapped, slamming the book down.

“All those muggles do is start wars and mate, they’re hardly intelligent creatures.” He sneered as he stepped towards me.

I scoffed. “What about the war You-Know-Who is starting, and how do you think you were born?”

He peered down at me. “At least our mating is clean and right, they’re just like animals.”

Our faces were close together. “I’d happily mate with them.”

Suddenly Draco grabbed my jaw and pressed me against the tall window. “Don’t say that.” He snapped. “Someone as pure as you shouldn’t even consider mating with such filth.”

My small hand tried to pry him away, but he was too strong. “Why does that bother you? Hm?” I glared.

His eyes flicked down to my lips. “Because I want to fuck you.”

Before I could utter a word his lips were harshly pressed to mine, body rubbing against me. I attempted to push him away but Draco stayed put. He was good, too good. I slowly ran my hands through his hair, his evil smirk forming against my lips.

“Knew you wanted me.” He jeered, lips pressing down my neck. “You’ve always wanted me.”

I gasped as he bit my neck, sucking the sensitive flesh. “Draco.” I breathed out, rolling my hips up against his.

“Want it, little girl?” He taunted. He quickly spun me around, hand immediately palming my behind. “You can have it.”

His hands went to the hem of my skirt, pulling it up and over my ass and groaning as he saw my green underwear. “Like you knew I was going to fuck you.” He sighed before moving my underwear to the side and sinking his fingers into me. “So wet.”

I moaned deeply and pawed behind me, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. His fingers came to my mouth as I tasted myself from him. “Taste that? So sweet I could drizzle you on my breakfast.” Draco breathed.

He quickly pulled himself out, easing his tip into me before harshly grabbing my hips and thrusting into me. “You always wanted this, didn’t you?” He moaned into my ear. “Wanted my cum inside you, no one else’s.”

“Yes.” I agreed, throwing my head back against his shoulder as he kissed over my neck.

“No muggle could make you feel this good.” He promised. “No muggle could make you cum on his cock the way I do.”

“No, only you.” I agreed, my hand gripping his hair tightly as he moaned again.

“Fuck, I wanna see you filled with my cum.” He confessed. “I wanna see you carrying my child, knowing that it was my clean cum that got you pregnant.”

“Ah, fuck!” I wailed out, jumping as his hand came to cover my mouth.

“Shut up,” he snapped. “Your daddy has high hopes of you fucking some muggle, how disappointed he’d be knowing his little girl is getting pregnant from me.” He sneered.

I moaned into his hand. His arm circled around and began to rub small but harsh circles into my clit, groaning as I clenched around him. “You gonna come, Sweet Thing?”

I nodded frantically. “Good, cum for me.” My moans were muffled by his hand as I clamped around him, my pussy spasming as he forced an orgasm from me.

His hand dropped from my mouth as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling my body flush against his. “Cum inside me.” I whined out. “Please.”

“Fucking hell, gonna paint your womb with my cum.” He promised as his hips stilled and hot ropes of cum came inside me. “Fuck.” He leant against me, kissing over my cheek and neck.

He pulled out, watching as the cum leaked from me. He sighed and pulled my skirt down, turning me around. His hand softly cupped my face as he leant in and sweetly kissed me.

“Don’t clean yourself up,” he smirked. “I want to know you’re walking around with my cum inside you.”

I bit my lip and nodded. “We should get back.”

His hand gripped mine as he led the way back to the dining room, letting go of me once he heard our fathers yelling at each other. We entered the room and my mother quickly pulled me away from Draco.

“Y/N, thank god, we’re leaving.” She spat at Narcissa.

“And another thing, language like mudblood and pure-blood are so outed it’s laughable!” My father yelled.

“At least I don’t want my off-spring mating with dirty genes.” Lucius snapped.

“The only dirty genes are yours.” My father retorted. “Thank you for dinner, the chicken was overcooked.”

My father grabbed mine and my mother’s hand, pulling us past Draco who simply smirked and winked at me.

Once in the carriage my father ranted and raved about the idiocy he’d just been in the presence of, my mother quickly making her distain for them known.

“What about the boy?” My father asked. “Was he any better?”

I shook my head. “Baffoon.” I said.

That wasn’t totally true.

[borathae]

↳ Index [Chapter 29 - Disconnect to Reconnect]

Genre: Smut, Fluff, minor Angst

Warnings: sub!Jungkook, dom!Reader, oral (m. & f.receiving), strength kink, fingering, handjob, rimjob, thigh riding, finger sucking, spitting, dirty talk, mistress as a title, Jungkook is so sensitive, edging, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, desperate love making, lots of tears, so much kissing and hugging, being in love

Wordcount: 14.5k

a/n: I know this chapter is long, but I felt that it needed this length to be an appropriate ending to this story. And I have to be honest with you when I wrote the ending I cried. Eight months in which I spent my nights and days working my ass off on this story and now it is finally finished. I feel relieved but also so terribly sad because I fell so in love with the characters and the world and now I have to say goodbye to them :( God, no joke this story is so dear to my heart. Thank you to everyone, who reblogged it and left comments or sent me asks you guys really mean the world to me! 💜

“___ do you know where I put my glasses?” Namjoon calls out, appearing in the doorframe of the kitchen a moment later.

“You are literally wearing them”, you answer him, not even looking at him,

Namjoon touches his face, “true, I am such a confused idiot. Thanks”, he says and leaves only to appear a second later, “while we’re at it, should I take three sweaters or do you think that two are enough?”

“I don’t know”, you say and finally turn to face him, “knowing you, three is the better choice. You're just gonna spill something on one.”

“That is true as well”, he says and points at you, “thanks you’re a genius.”

He disappears afterwards again. You can hear him hurry around the apartment, getting everything he needed to stuff it into his suitcase. Two days ago he received a spontaneous invitation to a crime author convention down south. It had been his dream for a few years now to be invited to it and this year it is finally happening. Namjoon is beyond excited, especially because he was told he could even hold an hour long presentation about the importance of research. He was literally vibrating in excitement when he read the email out loud to you and went off to work on his speech right after. You would have accompanied him if Jungkook wasn’t coming over for the weekend.

Speaking of Jungkook, you really hope that he will arrive here soon. You miss him like crazy. You have been stress snacking the entire day, because you couldn’t handle all that excitement. Even now you are looking through your pantry, deciding on what you want to eat.

Instant noodles in all shapes and flavors are a strong contestant. Instant udon, instant ramen, you even got instant spaghetti, which honest speaking looked terrible. Instant udon would taste delicious because udon are without a doubt the best noodles on planet earth, yes even better than Italian pasta. Ramen would be delicious because the broth is a lot better than the one of the udon and it is spicy tofu which is heaven on earth. Instant spaghetti would literally be the worst. You throw the package back into the basket. Yeah no; you will not eat instant spaghetti today.

“Funny how we always meet each other in the pantry” a familiar voice greets you, making you twist around.

Your heart flutters, your eyes beginning to sparkle.

“Jungkook, hey. You’re here earlier than last time. How was the drive?” you greet him, smiling from one ear to the other.

He looks so handsome today, with his wavy hair in a little ponytail, revealing his undercut and a thick turtleneck adorning his upper body. Mouthwatering, almost as mouthwatering as that smile on his face.

“Pretty good, cold as fuck but other than that it was good. I was able to leave work earlier that’s why I’m here so early”, he explains, closing the distance between you and him as he does. He places his hand on your lower back, pressing his body against your arm. Your heart may have done a little somersault in your chest at his gesture.

“You look beautiful today”, he says softly, rubbing the tip of his nose against your temple, “I missed you”, he whispers, lips tickling your temple in a tender kiss.

"Missed you t-too", your voice cracks, lips parting in a gasp when Jungkook places a feather light kiss to your neck, humming as he does. 

Your body reacts in an instant. Shivers run down your spine, heat collects between your legs. It is borderline embarrassing how reactive you still are to his touches. You fight with keeping your eyes open, sighing shakily. Oh how you missed this and oh how wrong this is. Namjoon is literally in the living room, packing his suitcase. He can hear you.

“Jungkook we- aah…”

Jungkook pulls you closer, kissing your neck a second time. It is a stronger kiss, one that makes your skin tingle and your knees wobble. He smells so strongly of himself today, it is clouding your mind in a haze of sweet memories. Jungkook sighs your name, fingers on your lower back dancing their way over to your side. He squeezes your waist, pulling you closer in the process as he kisses your neck one more time.

“I missed you so much I thought I’d go crazy”, he rasps, lips pressed to your skin.

“Mhhhm…Kook…we…” your eyes fall closed, breath hitching in your throat, “Jungkook we shouldn’t.”

“Why?” he asks in a breathy whisper, caressing your stomach as he does.

“Because of, of, o-of…”

You drift off, forgetting to speak as Jungkook nibbles on your jawline, releasing little moans as he does. One week of yearning really did it to you, you just realised that. Oh how you want Jungkook to continue, feel him again in your most favourite way, but you shouldn’t. Again Namjoon can hear everything.

“Jungkook, we can’t”, you insist with the last bit of your strength left, twisting in his arms and pushing at his chest gently.

Jungkook doesn’t let go of you, holding you with his hand on each of your hips. His pupils are dilated as he gazes down at you in hunger, pink lips parted in excited breaths.

“Why? I wasn’t able to hang out with you last weekend because of that stupid cold and I’ve been waiting for you the entire week”, he says, leaning down to whisper the next word into your ear, “let me make love to you again baby”, he rasps, following it up with a needy moan, “let me feel your body against mine, all naked and hot, just like we always did.”

Your stomach tingles. Jungkook kisses your neck, biting down on it gently. Your stomach clenches, a quiet moan escaping you. Your fingers twist in his turtleneck, pulling him closer. You are melting, crumbling, giving in to the temptation.

“J-Jungkook we really-“, you gasp when your back suddenly hits your grocery shelf, Jungkook’s body caging you in all hot and heavy. His hands are on both sides of your head, dark eyes racing over your features as he smirks at you.

“We, we-“, you stutter, getting lost in his gaze like a helpless woman in a maze of temptation.

Jungkook takes a step closer, pressing his hips into your body. He is so hard and ready already. Fuck, his smell is driving you to insanity.  

“I want you”, Jungkook rasps, grabbing you by the back of your neck gently to tilt your head into the perfect position so he could kiss your most sensitive spots.

Down the side of your neck until he reaches your collarbone. He flicks his tongue over it, growling deeply as he does. His knee is lodged between your legs, rubbing circles on your swelling clit. You are pretty sure he can feel your nails dig into his pecs, that’s how tightly you hold onto him. You have to stay strong.

“Oh god”, you croak, feeling like you are burning up, “Jungkook we really shouldn’t”, you choke out, hating yourself for doing so.

You push at his chest again, despite how every fiber in your body tells you not to. Just let it happen, that is what they all tell you. Jungkook is here now and he wants you, that’s what they scream at you. You want him too, that’s what they try to make you remember.

Jungkook lets off your neck with a whine, raising his head. He is frowning, lips turned downwards.

“Why? Do you not want me too?”

“I do, but…”

You look away, not bearing to say the words when you look into his eyes.

“…what about Namjoon?”

“He’s in the living room. Why?” Jungkook asks, looking over his shoulder.

“Cause, what if he hears us?”

Jungkook visibly tries his hardest not to cock an eyebrow at you and scoff.

“Since when are you that modest?” he teases, which earns him an annoyed glare.

“I’m not, I just don’t want him to hear us. He’s gonna leave at like eight anyways. Can’t you be a little patient?”

He whines, throwing his head back.

“Fine I’ll wait. Holy shit you’re literally edging me without even touching me”, he whines dramatically, earning himself a gentle slap to his chest.

“I said he can hear us. Don’t say that”, you hiss, cheeks burning up in embarrassment.

He cackles in amusement, playful sparkle in his eyes taunting you in the best ways.

 “Anyways”, Jungkook grins, “what were you doing before I arrived?”

“Uhm I..”, you clear your throat, “I wanted to make some ramen cause I’m hungry. You want some too?” you say, turning back to the ramen basket. Jungkook isn’t the only one getting edged right now. Oh how you want him, just looking at him is temptation too big.

“I never had ramen before. Are they like good?”

You whip around, “You never had ram- Are they like good? Boy? They are like heaven in one far too salty package of food.”

Jungkook snorts, grinning.

“Well, can I have some then?”

“Sure”, you say, “you like spicy food?”

You feel Jungkook come closer to you again, his body heat radiates all off of him as he stands behind you, looking over your shoulder.

“I do yeah”, he says, eyes glued to your neck as you move around. Oh how crazy he is for your neck whenever you wear your hair in a style that exposes it. Which is kind of ironic, just months ago he couldn't bear looking at it, too much hurt the bruises on your skin. And now he can't get enough of the view, how beautiful it is and he will make sure nobody will ever hurt it again. He licks over his lips, swallows hard. How he wants to kiss it again, shower it in his love, make you feel good with it. Fuck he wants you so bad. 

You turn around with four packages of ramen in your hands, almost loosing the ability to breathe when you see just how close he is. He stares down at you with a dirty grin, eyes hooded. There he goes again doing that eyefuck thing he always did with you and apparently it is still affecting you just as much.

“Okay you know what?” you clear your throat, pressing yourself past his body, “get me some garlic and a few spring onions I’ll show you how to properly eat instant ramen.”

At least that will distract him and you and maybe, just maybe, lessen the sexual tension.

“On it!” Jungkook obeys instantly, looking around the pantry for the ingredients.

In the meantime you carry the four packages outside and get everything you need. A big pot, a cutting board and a sharp knife. Also two eggs for extra flavor. You pour a little oil into the pot and then wait for Jungkook to come back.

He does so after a few moments, skipping through the kitchen and carrying the ingredients like he would a baby.

“I got everything. Also I found apples. I like apples, I really wanna have some for dessert”, he explains cutely. He is so adorable, if the dent in his pants wouldn’t still be that present, you would have cooed at him.

“Sure let’s have some”, you look away, gripping the knife tightly, “hand me the spring onions though.”

“Of course. Here”, Jungkook nods his head and hands them to you. He watches you wash them and then put them down on the cutting board. He goes to rest his chin on your shoulder, hands on your hips. The gesture makes your heart flutter in your chest.

“What are you doing?” he asks, breath tickling your skin.

“Cutting them up.”

“Why?”

“So we can add them to the noodles for extra flavor.”

“Aaaah”, Jungkook gasps as if you just had revealed the secret of eternal life to him, “do we need the garlic for that too?”

“Exactly”, you answer and let out a fond chuckle.

It makes Jungkook break his eyes away from the cutting board to look at you instead. Feeling his eyes on you, you turn your head to make eye contact with him.

“Did I say something funny?” he asks, eyes racing between yours.

“No, it’s just- did you never cook before?”

“No”, he pouts, the way his chin is positioned on your shoulder makes his lower lip stick out even more endearingly than usual.

You can’t resist on booping his nose with your finger, giggling, “Can you get me the garlic now?”

Jungkook nods and lets go of you, “on it.” He twirls around, grabbing the garlic in the process and turning to you all in one go. “Here”, he announces, waving the garlic in front of your eyes.

“Thanks”, you say and fish it from his fingers.

You take two garlic cloves, putting them on the cutting board next to each other. You put the flat side of the knife on them and then slam your hand down on them, startling Jungkook, who actually does a little jump.

“Did I startle you?” you ask, giggling.

“I just thought you hurt yourself”, Jungkook defends himself, pressing his hand to his racing heart.

“I didn’t, it just makes the garlic easier to peel”, you explain and start peeling and cutting up the garlic.

“Aaaaah.”

Jungkook watches you with big, curious eyes, soaking up everything like a sponge. Maybe one day he’ll be able to cook that too and then maybe, just maybe he will be able to serve it to you. Not that he would tell you that, at least not today when just got you to talk normally to him. He doesn’t want to ruin everything with his silly fantasies of a future together, especially when he was the one running away from them in the first place. Jungkook feels his heart grow heavy again, the desire to look away from you rising in his stomach. No, not again. He is stronger than this, he learned from his mistake. He’ll never break his eyes away from you again.

“And now to frying”, you release him from his dark thoughts as you continue your tutorial, “Fry the garlic first until it smells really good and then add the spring onions”, you tell him as you do exactly that. You seem to not have noticed his inner struggle as there is still happiness lacing your voice.

“How long do I need to fry the spring onions?” Jungkook asks, tilting his head to the side. He just needs to distract himself and then everything will be okay again.

“Until they are almost translucent”, you answer him, swaying your hips to the music on the radio. You had turned it on before, as you hated nothing more than a silent apartment. It is a love song, totally cheesy, about how beautiful the singer thinks his wifes smile is. It is a really nice song, perfect for dancing with your lover.

“Okay”, Jungkook nods his head and sneaks a glance your way. Distract himself, that is what he needs to do. Maybe he could dance with you.

“Can I hug you maybe?” he asks.

You peak at him over your shoulder, having to bite down the goofy smile from sneaking up on your lips.

“You can hug me”, you say and nod your head.

Jungkook is quick to act. He takes a step closer to you and wraps his arms around your middle, chin resting on your shoulder and chest pressed against your back. He sighs, closing his fingers on you as he hugs you tighter. He doesn’t care how it might look to you when he closes his eyes and starts smiling like an idiot. He just wants to do it, no matter what you might think right now. He missed holding you like this so much.

You are burning up, heart racing so fast in your chest you are sure even your neighbours can hear it. You have to fight against the urge to close your eyes with all your might. Keep them open or else the onions might burn. Keep them open!

Jungkook gives you a tiny squeeze. His lips land on your neck, you knew they would and yet it still made you gasp. His arms tighten, his heart racing against your back.

“You smell so good darling”, he rasps, dragging the tip of his nose up your neck.

“Jungkook seriously d-don’t make me burn the onions”, you stutter, fighting against the urge to let your head fall against his shoulder.

Jungkook hums, starting to sway his hips to the music.

“They’ll be fine”, he assures you, hands traveling down to your hips to guide them to the melody as well. He hums quietly, littering your neck with feather light kisses.

“Jungkook what are you doing?” your voice is shaky as you speak the words.

“Dancing”, he whispers, keeping one hand on your hip as he hugs your middle with the other, “I miss dancing with you.”

“But..”, you inhale loudly, “…the onions.”

Jungkook twirls you around all of a sudden, making you squeak as you fall into his chest. He is smiling like the biggest idiot ever, all bright and giddy with his nose scrunched up and the corners of his eyes crinkled.

“Forget about them”, he tells you, dragging you away from the stove to twirl and dance through the kitchen instead.

“But-“

He silences you with a soft kiss to your cheek.

“I said forget about them. Let’s just dance”, he says, caressing the spot he had kissed with his thumb.

Your sparkling eyes race between his, pulse speeding up in your giddy chest.

“Okay fine”, you give in and sneak your arms around his neck, “I’ll dance with you, but only until the song ends and then I have to stir the onions.”

“That’s all I need”, he says, closing the distance between you and him.

Now that he is utterly concentrated on you and you in return are fully concentrated on him, your dancing becomes even better than before. Now, to an expert it probably looks stupid, but you feel like the biggest dancing queen in history as you fly over the kitchen floor with Jungkook’s arms around you. Each and every inch of the small kitchen gets grazed by your feet as you dance. Around the kitchen island, past the dining table, back to the stove and over to the pantry. Jungkook leads you through the room as if it was the most beautiful and spacious dancing hall in human history. Not even the most beautiful ballroom could compete to your tiny kitchen however, you just decided that, as you get lost in Jungkook’s eyes. Maybe it is the lights, but there is this golden hue around him, if you squinted hard enough he almost looked like an angel.  

It is not long that laughter escapes you after Jungkook decides to twirl you around like crazy and then catch you in his arms. He laughs as well, tilting your body back, following you with his upper body.

“Ah what are you doing?” you squeak, giggling like crazy as you all of a sudden have the perfect view of your refrigerator except that it is upside down and your head is tangling down.

“Living out the cliché”, Jungkook explains, giggling as well. He straightens both of you up slowly, supporting you as you stumble for a moment.

“Are you now?” you grin at him, “all there is missing then is you picking me up and confessing your undying love to me.”

“Yeah?” he challenges and goes to do exactly that.

You could have figured that he would and yet it still makes you squeal in surprise. His strong arms support your legs on each side of his waist, not showing any signs of exhaustion. He looks up at you with sparkling eyes.

“I’m really happy that we can spend time together again. It means the world to me”, he says, the smile on his face lighting up the entire kitchen.

“Jungkook I…”

You are pretty sure the feeling in your chest is you falling for him again. Not just giving in to temptation, not just you wanting to relive old memories, not just you wanting to be close to him because it is so familiar and nice. No you are pretty sure that warmth in your chest is your heart falling for him all over again. A new start, a new spot on your heart. It may be terribly close to the previous one Jungkook left behind, but it is still a new one nonetheless. Is this even possible? To fall for the same person once again? You’ll ask Namjoon about that once you find the time.

You really want to tell him that you are happy too, but something inside of you stops you from it. Is it fear?

“Please put me down, the onions are burning”, you say instead.

Jungkook’s smile falls, the sparkle in his eyes getting less.

“Of course”, he says quietly and a moment later your feet meet the floor again.

He steps back, lets his hands fall from your body and lowers his head. You break your eyes away from him, your heart is too heavy otherwise.

You stir the onions in silence, knowing that Jungkook is watching you with a frown.

You soon make your way to the sink to pour the required amount of water into the pot. It sizzles as you do, filling the air with a nice smell of crispy onions and garlic. It is not a nice smell however, yes in theory it is a nice smell, but not right now when there is so much heaviness between you and Jungkook.

“Hey guys not to cockblock you, but I’m off now”, Namjoon says as he peeks his head inside the kitchen.

You and Jungkook turn around.

“You guys okay? You look like your dog just died”, he says to which you quickly nod your head.

“Yeah we’re fine. Have fun at the convention”, you say.

“Thanks. See you next week. Also do not fuck in my room or else”, he warns and then disappears out of the kitchen.

Yours and Jungkook’s eyes meet. He is playing with the hair at the back of his neck, watching you with his lips pressed into a thin line. He looks so hurt it is ripping you apart. This evening was supposed to be a nice evening. Do you really want to ruin it with being scared and frightened of your feelings? Your eyes land on his sad ones. No you really don’t want to ruin it.

“Come look sweetie”, you tell him then.

Jungkook takes a step closer to you, watching you with wary eyes.

“No closer”, you say, twisting your fingers in his sweater and pulling him to you.

Jungkook stumbles, eyes growing big as he falls against your body.

“There better”, you say, looking up at him with a fond grin, sneaking your arm around his middle.

Jungkook can’t help but grin too, lowering his eyes in shyness.

“Sorry I told you to put me down”, you say, “I panicked and acted irrational.”

“I understand, I’m sorry I pressured you so much. I was so excited for the weekend the entire week that I may have overdone it a little. I get it, you probably still need to switch from Hoseok mode into Jungkook mode, right?”

“Hoseok mode?”

“You guys are sleeping with each other”, he explains.

“What?” you blink your eyes in confusion, “wait do you actually think I’m still sleeping with Seok? I literally ended it the moment you and I had that talk in the diner.”

“Really?”

“Of course. What the hell, I’m literally so perplexed right now. You thought I was sleeping with Hoseok the entire time and still wanted me back?”

“Of course. I just-“, he lowers his head, “-please ignore me, now that I think about it I was an idiot.”

“I hope you know that I’d never do something like that.”

“Yeah I know, sorry”, he murmurs, growing nervous. “So why are you so cold to me if it isn’t because of Hoseok?” he asks, holding his breath.

“Because-“, you look into his eyes, fingers tightening on his lower back. There it is again that familiar and yet unfamiliar warmth in your chest, “-I’m still a little scared.”

“Scared? Of what?”

“Of falling in love with you.”

“Would falling for me be such a bad thing? I mean you already did once. A second time can’t hurt.”

You snort, Jungkook smiles too.

“You’re so cocky sometimes”, you say, nudging his chest.

“I like to call it overly confident”, he jokes, making you scoff. He grins.

“But if it helps”, he starts, “I’m really fucking scared too.”

“Why are you scared?”

“Because I’m scared that I accidentally say or do the wrong thing and you end up hating me again.”

“I’m not going to hate you again Jungkook so relax there is nothing to worry about”, you reassure him, but he doesn’t seem convinced.

“I just don’t wanna do or say something wrong. I don’t know”, he groans in frustration, “I just don’t wanna mess up.”

“Mhm I get you. Don’t worry Kook just be yourself and nothing can happen. I’ll tell you if I don’t like something you do”, you assure him, caressing his back.  

“Will you really?”

“Yes of course I will. Communication.”

“Communication?” he tilts his head to the side.

“That’s what was missing with us last time. We didn’t communicate our feelings properly back then and I’m not gonna repeat that mistake again.”

Jungkook nods his head in understanding.

“I agree. I like that idea”, he tilts his head to the side, “I like communicating with you. Let’s do it more from now on”, he says with a grin on his lips.

“Agreed.”

Jungkook studies your face with a shy grin on his lips. He tilts his head to the side.

“Well then what do you think right now?” he says, shimming from one foot to the other.

“Right now I’m thinking that it’s time to add the egg”, you say and turn back to the stove. 

“The egg?” Jungkook has his arms wrapped around you in an instant, wanting to watch you work and also feel you close. Yes, he really likes feeling you close.

“Yeah, just put it in the soup and it will cook just perfectly to still be a little runny but not too runny, you know?”

“Mhm”, he nods his head, “why do you add an egg?”

“For flavor and also it protects your stomach from all the spice”, you explain, deciding to pinch his stomach.

Jungkook giggles, curling in on himself as his fingers wrap around your hands.

“Don’t tickle me, I’m not wearing the right pants”, he whines.

“And what has that to do with me tickling you?” you tease, pinching his stomach again.

“My dick feels too vulnerable”, he explains, making you snort in amusement.

“What? You think Imma punch your dick or something?” you laugh, pinching his sides so hard he squeaks in laughter, “what kinda weak excuse is this mister?” you tease, tickling him like crazy.

“Please stop”, he hiccups, writhing around in a desperate attempt to get you off of him.

Holy fucking shit his laughter is like the most beautiful sound in the world. This is what you are thinking as you watch him with giddy eyes. Jungkook squeaks, laughter growing in volume as his eyes fill with happy tears. 

"P-please baby, d-don't", he begs, hiccupping in laughter. 

Holy fucking shit that nickname sounds like the sweetest name in the world. That's what you think as your heart swells in your chest and you push him back until he collapses with your refrigerator. Fuck the fears.

Jungkook gasps, big eyes staring at you in surprise at your rough handling. You’re not tickling him anymore, your fingers are just resting on his waist now, squeezing it. Your burning eyes gaze up at him as a giddy smile tugs at your lips. You lean closer, making his breath hitch in his throat.

“What are you doing?” he asks, having to swallow.

“Wanna know what I’m thinking right now?” you whisper, taking another step closer to him.

“Yes communicate it to me”, Jungkook says totally serious.

“I also think it’s really nice to hang out with you like that again.”

Fondness washes over Jungkook’s face, “you do?” he says,

“Yeah, I do”, you say, before you grab the back of his neck, dragging your nails over his undercut, "I really wanna kiss you right now." 

"Please do, holy shit I want-" and then you kiss him, you kiss him so deeply it feels like it is the first time you ever kissed him.

Jungkook can’t breathe, he can’t make a sound, he can’t even close his eyes. Is this actually happening? Is he dreaming? Are you actually kissing him again? Holy shit he is so weak in the knees. 

You put your weight on his body, grabbing his head to pull him even closer. Your eyes are closed, your chest vibrating in desperate moans. Jungkook’s eyes flutter, his stomach tightens, his knees almost giving up on him. Holy fuck he isn’t dreaming.

You kiss him deeper, licking into his mouth as if you wanted to taste every inch of it. More weight. You want him basically melted into your body. You tighten your fingers on his cheeks, kissing him even deeper. Jungkook hiccups a sob. This is actually happening.

A tear rolls down Jungkook’s cheek and then his eyes fall closed, his fingers finding their home in your hair. The walls have been broken, everything you had both wanted to keep out for the sake of your hearts is rushing in. This is what being in love felt like, he can remember everything again. 

Jungkook whimpers, snaking his arm to your back to press you against his chest. Your kiss deepens, teeth clashing and tongues tangling. You press yourself closer, leg snaking around his middle to feel him against you. You are dizzy, so this is how it felt like to be kissed by him.

His kiss tastes salty. He is crying. It feels so good, the sensations are overwhelming him. Oh how he missed you. You kiss him deeper, hoping you can heal his heart like that. Oh how you missed him. 

Jungkook straightens up, pulling you with him until you are on your tiptoes. He is cupping your cheeks so tenderly it feels like a promise of adoration on its own. The kiss doesn’t break, it only gets deeper. There is no space left between you and him. You are only one now, melted together.

Your feet leave the floor. Jungkook is picking you up like he so enjoys to do. Your legs tighten around his hips, your fingers fall from his hair. You wrap your arm around his neck instead and kiss him deeper. 

Jungkook twirls around so that you are against the fridge instead of him, pressing his body as close as possible. A whine escapes you, getting swallowed by Jungkook. He feels so good against you.

His kisses are so wet now, ruining your entire lower face. You wouldn’t call it ruining however. You have never felt so good before. You pull him closer, whimpering as you bite down on his lower lip until you can feel it crack. Jungkook moans in a mixture of pleasure and pain, grinding his hips into yours desperately. He tastes like iron now. You suck on his lip, fingers twisting in whatever parts of his hair had fallen out of the bun. He is hard, his pants do nothing to hide it. 

Your legs close around him, drawing him in greedily. It is too late now. There is no going back from this. Your veins are already filling up with him again. You can feel it, he has already reached your stomach. Not long and you are drowning in him.

Jungkook whimpers, changing his grip around you just slightly. You are higher up now. He has to crane his neck to reach your lips. Looking up at you has always been his favorite thing to do. Oh how happy he is to finally experience it again.

Your legs tighten, your hands are on his face, your tongue tasting his bleeding lip. Moans are rippling through your body, arousal soaks his shirt. You weren’t wearing any panties, not because you wanted to feel sexy but because you merely forget to do your laundry. So not sexy at all but you know that Jungkook doesn’t care. All he can feel is your arousal soaking his turtleneck and how it turns him on. His stomach tightens underneath you as you keep grinding into him, needy moans mixing with yours.

It sizzles, loudly and dangerously. Sizzling? Since when does Jungkook sizzle? Your kiss breaks, Jungkook broke it as he turned his head to the side.

“Why did you stop?” you ask breathlessly, only to get yelled at by Jungkook.

“The ramen! They are boiling over!” he screeches, dropping you to the floor to zoom to the stove instead.

You stumble, groaning as your back hit the fridge rather harshly. You can’t stay mad for long however as you watch Jungkook hurry through the kitchen, arm stretched out as far as possible as he carries the pot to the sink as if he was a character in some funny cartoon. You giggle, eyes sparkling in fondness. He puts the pot down on the metal of the sink area, letting out a dramatic sigh afterwards. He leans forward, resting his hands on his hips.

“Pfew, that was close”, he says, wiping imaginary sweat from his forehead.

You snort, laughing loudly afterwards.

“You should have just seen you. You looked hilarious”, you laugh, pointing a finger at him. 

Jungkook looks at you, boyish grin on his face. There is a slight blush on his cheeks. 

"I really thought we'd die for a good second", he says, pressing his hand over his racing heart. 

"One could see that", you tease, cheeky grin on your lips. 

Jungkook’s eyes flit to the floor in embarrassment, only to fall on you a second later. They are heavy in arousal, lower lip between his teeth as he takes a step closer. 

"So uhm, baby?" another step closer, "now that we don't have anything to eat how about we do something else instead?" 

You take a step closer. Jungkook takes a step closer. Just one more step and then his fingers are in your hair and your hands are on his chest. 

"I can’t resist you anymore. Tell me you want me too", he says, hard cock straining against his pants. 

You twist your fingers in his shirt and pull him closer, "I want you so bad."

Your mouths connect in a needy kiss, moans rippling through you and arms wrapping around the other.

Your back collides with the kitchen island, your feet leave the floor. Jungkook is picking you up, sitting you down on the cold stone. He makes himself comfortable between your parted legs, hands massaging your hips. He basically undresses you with his eyes, lips swollen from all the kisses. 

"I want you so bad", he rasps, dragging your thumb down your lips, "wanna taste you."

"Yeah?" you are so excited your voice cracked, "what you wanna taste?"

"Your juices", his pupils dilate at the word, "I'm so starved of your taste I'm going insane." 

Your breath hitches, pupils dilating. You lie down and put your feet on the kitchen counter, spreading your legs in the process. You know that Jungkook has the perfect view of your soaked core like that. 

"Holy fucking shit is this real?" he gasps, palming himself.  He hadn't even realised that he was doing it, your pussy had hyptnotised him. 

"Taste for yourself if it's real", you rasp, parting your folds with two fingers.

"Fuck babe", he has to chuckle breathlessly, licking over his lips.

"I haven’t been that wet in months baby", you coo, playing with the juices at your entrance. 

Jungkook whines desperately, falling to his knees to get eye to eye with his biggest weakness. His nails on your hips are digging into your skin deliciously, his hot breath tickling you most perfectly.

"Holy fuck, feed me baby please feed me", he chokes out, opening his mouth to stick his tongue out for you. 

You raise your head, eyes big. 

"You want me to what?" 

"Feed me", he swallows hard, "please I'm such a hungry boy for your juices, feed them to me mistress please."

"Mistress?" a smirk washes over your face, "I like that, suits me", you rasp. 

You glide two of your fingers into your drenched hole, fingering yourself lazily as Jungkook watches. 

"Holy shit, holy shit. Fuck yes, you are so sexy", he can’t even talk without panting, hands on your hips pulling you just that little bit closer. 

"I'm so wet Kookie", you moan, curling your fingers inside of you so they would graze over your g-spot. 

"Show me", he pants, eyes so blown out they appear dark, "please I wanna see."

You pull out slowly, making sure to get as much of your arousal on your fingers as possible. Jungkook moans, fingers tightening on your hips. 

"Look at that Kook, this was your doing. Only you can make me that wet", you moan, waving your drenched fingers in front of his eyes as if you wanted to tease him.

"Please mistress, I need to taste you", he croaks, sticking his tongue out again as he follows your fingers with your eyes. 

You are going to test something out now. No idea if he likes it, but holy shit he is in the perfect position for it. You press your fingers down on his tongue and to your surprise Jungkook closes his lips around them in an instant, moaning as he does. 

"Fuuck Jungkook", you growl, watching him with your mouth agape. 

Jungkook sucks eagerly on the tip of your fingers, moans high-pitched and so, so grateful. His tongue swirls around your digits, working them just as good as it does your pussy. 

"Deeper", you order, growing confident in the newfound power. 

Jungkook obeys instantly, mouth sinking down until your second knuckle disappears inside of him. He moans, head bopping up and down lazily. 

"Holy shit, look at you. This is so hot, fuck" you rasp, voice dripping with arousal. 

Jungkook nods, takes more of your fingers in his mouth and moans. His mouth feels so warm inside, so wet, so good. This is so beyond sinful, it pulls you in without escape. 

"I can’t believe you are doing this", you growl, heat pooling at your entrance, "look how fucking wet this makes me."

Jungkook moans, flicks his tongue along the underside of your fingers, eyes glued to your face. 

"I said-", you warn, pressing down on his tongue until he gags and whimpers, "-look at my pussy and see how wet you sucking me fingers makes me."

Jungkook’s eyes are glued to your core immediately, filling with the dark fire of desire. He moans, sucks harder before he releases your fingers with a loud bop. 

"Mistress please let me clean it up for you", he begs, voice heavy. 

"Go to work then", you try your hardest to sound authoritative, but holy shit you are so excited. It's been months since you last got eaten out (Hoseok is more of a fingering guy himself) and you are literally vibrating in excitement. 

"Thank you", Jungkook moans, pulling your hips to his waiting mouth, flat of his tongue welcoming your sweet taste eagerly. 

"Fuck! Shit!" you scream, legs closing around his head in instinct. That's what a tongue on your pussy feels like? Wet, soft, hot, so god damn fucking good. You are going to cum so hard, you already know you will. 

Jungkook doesn’t mind your legs squeezing his head, he simply parts them just enough so he could move around better, massaging your inner thighs as he does. 

He moves the flat of his tongue up and down your pussy, keeping it perfectly still and using his head for every movement.

"Holy shit your tongue's so hot", you moan, gripping the edge of the kitchen counter so tightly your skin turns white. 

"I missed your taste so much", Jungkook chokes out, voice shaky. 

You raise your head, "Kook are you-?"

"I'm fine", he assures you as you stare at his tear stained cheeks, "I just missed this so much, please don’t worry."

"Kookie we can stop if you need a moment." 

"No, holy fuck no. I'm enjoying this so much, these are happy tears", he insists, placing an open-mouthed kiss on your clit to further strengthen his words. 

You gasp, shiver, hips rolling into his mouth at the feeling. 

"Enjoy yourself please I'm fine", he whispers against your pussy, tongue darting out to flick over your swollen clit. 

"Ah Kook, i-if you need to s-stop", staying sane is close to impossible if he keeps flicking his tongue like that.

"I'll say Penguin or tap you three times. I know", he rasps, locking his lips around your clit and then he sucks hard. 

"Yes!" this is both an answer to what he said and what is doing. More to what he is doing however.

"Yes, yes, yes. Fuck yes!" 

Jungkook moans, flicks his tongue over your clit again and again until your legs are shaking. He is still sucking hard, moaning deliciously as he does. This is so intense, so hot, it borders to almost too much and yet you can’t get enough of it.

"Oh shit, oh shit. So good, so good" you are gasping for air, nails almost ripping from how tightly you hold onto the counter. You are going to cum, you are so close you can feel it creep up your legs. 

Jungkook has other plans however. Edging, he knows how much you love it. The moment your pussy tightens in preparation for your high he releases your clit, leaving you to roll your hips against nothing. 

"You're so delicious", he moans, kissing your inner thigh. 

"Do not edge me, holy fuck are you insane?" you spit, head snapping up to send him a dark look, "bury your good for nothing face in my pussy again and make me cum bitch."

Jungkook blinks at you, mouth hanging open in shock. 

"I am so sorry, I don't know why I just said that", you gasp, cheeks heating up, "it's you calling me mistress, it did something inside of me. Sorry."

Jungkook blinks at you one last time and then he laughs, throwing his head back as he does. 

"Why are you laughing?" you ask, growing nervous.  

"Cause holy fucking shit", he laughs once then his head bounces to the front, strands of hair hanging into his dark eyes, "this was the hottest thing you've ever said to me", he growls, having fallen back into his native dialect. 

"Yeah?" you smile at that, confidence flooding your system, "then be a good little bitch and fill your hungry mouth with my juices", you bark confidently, grabbing him by the back of his head to force him back on your pussy. 

"Yes mistress, fuck", he moans and then you smother him with your cunt. 

"Jungkook yes", you groan, keeping your hand on his head as you guide his movements. 

Jungkook is left moaning and whimpering, eyes pressed shut as he licks over your pussy like a starved man. Your clit, your pussy lips, your soaked entrance. He is getting lost in your taste, hoping he'll never be saved. 

"Fuck you feel so good", you moan, falling back down onto the counter. Your fingers rest on his head, itching with feeling his hair under them, "wanna feel your hair." 

Jungkook reaches up and in one expert tug his hair rains out of his man bun in messy waves. His tongue speeds up its movements, flicking over your clit with such speed your moans abandon you as you are left gasping for air. Those sounds, his whimpers, it's like your own personal audio porn. 

You grab as much hair as you can hold, twisting it in your fingers. Holy shit those long locks feel amazing in your hand, even better than they did when he had shorter hair. 

Jungkook moans, slurping up the sinful concoction of your arousal and his spit, eyes threatening to close. 

"That's it, show me how hungry you are", you moan, legs shaking like crazy. 

"So hungry", Jungkook whimpers, changing the position of his head so he could fuck your hole with his tongue. 

"Crap, fuck, shit", your legs almost slipped of the counter, your head banging on the stone as your back arched. 

Jungkook reaches behind to cover your hand with his'. He presses down on it, forcing his head closer to your pussy in the process. He wants to gasp for air, wants to choke, wants to feel your wetness all over his face.

"Holy fuck, you're such a slut", you moan loudly, fixing the position of your hand so you could press him down instead. 

Jungkook sobs, nodding vigorously. His tongue is deep inside of you, his nose rubbing over your clit with every nod. 

"Fuck yes, fuck yes", you yelp, hips beginning to rut against him to get even more of his face. 

Jungkook decides to try something new. He has no idea if you will like it, but he is going to try it. For the briefest of moments he removes his face from your pussy to spit onto his fingers instead. 

"Don't sto-" and then he is on your pussy again, rubbing his face against it as his tongue fucks into you. Your legs start shaking in an instant, moans spill out of you. 

Now onto the second half of his plan. He places his slickened up fingers on your puckered hole and starts rubbing circles on it, watching your face for a reaction. 

"Ah!" you are screaming, mouth falling open as your fingers twist in his hair painfully. 

Jungkook moans, fucks his tongue deeper into you, buries more of his face in your cunt and puts more pressure on your hole. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes, fuck." 

He is going to make you cum. You are going to burst like a balloon, which someone poked with a needle. Except the needle is his tongue and fingers combined. 

"Gonna cum, holy fuck gonna cum so hard", you pant, moans getting higher and higher. 

Jungkook groans, more pressure, faster flicks. Toes curls, fingers twist in hair. Jungkook growls, you scream his name. 

You are literally convulsing on the counter, croaking out high-pitched squeaks as your high courses through you. Jungkook slurps up all you have to offer, soaks up every pulse and shiver until his veins are filled with them. 

He doesn’t stop, even after the last spark shook your body he keeps licking your pussy like a starved man. 

"Kook, fuck. Ah it's so sensitive", you gasp. 

"Sit up", you hear his muffled voice. 

"What?" you say, sitting up as good as possible. 

Jungkook picks you up from the counter, face buried in your neck and arms wrapped around your legs. He sucks on your skin and bounces you in his hands, sending jolts of electricity through your body.

"Holy shit", you squeak, holding onto him as good as possible, "holy shit, holy fuck. This is. Kook, god" you pant, sensitive clit feeling like exploding as it rubs against his stomach. 

Jungkook moans, starting to walk. His tongue still flicks over your jawline. This feels so good. 

"Holy shit Kook", you moan, head falling back, "oh watch out! The doorframe!" 

Your back collides with it, Jungkook grunts almost dropping you but catching himself in the last moment. He raises his head. 

You come face to face with him. He is covered in your juices, looking like sex personified. 

"You just bounced me in your arms", you pant, pussy rutting against his stomach. 

"I always wanted to do that. Don't expect an entire session with it though", he rasps, breathing heavily, "those four steps were enough." 

He sets you down on the ground, pressing himself to you as tightly as possible. You chuckle, combing your fingers through his hair.

"It was still impressive. Holy shit, you’re so strong. It's so hot", you say and pull him onto your mouth, earning yourself one of the neediest moans you had ever heard of him. Jungkook is melting with every kiss, crumbling in your hands like the simple man he is. 

He tastes so strongly of you, eliciting a hunger inside of you only the most sinful of practices can still. Your kiss breaks as you tilt his head back by his hair. 

"On your knees whore", you order, forcing him down. 

Jungkook falls to his knees, moaning. 

"Mistress" he pleads, grabbing your hips. 

You keep his head tilted back as you bend down and place your tongue on his cheek. 

"Gotta clean my dirty slut off my juices", you growl, swirling your tongue over his skin. 

"Holy shit", he gasps, eyes falling closed, "this is so hot."

You moan hungrily as you flick your tongue over his face, licking everything clean. Jungkook is left moaning, rubbing your hips needily. This is the hottest thing someone ever has done to him. His cheeks, his nose, his mouth, his chin. Every single inch of his godlike face gets smothered by your tongue. 

"There", you break away from his chin, "all done", your eyes flick up to connect with his. He looks so fucked, so turned on you know that those pants of his are painful. 

"Wanna taste me one last time?" 

"Yes, yes please", he nods vigorously. 

"Open your mouth, tongue out", you order and Jungkook obeys. 

You lean down, grabbing him by his chin. You pucker your lips, letting your spit run out of it onto his tongue. 

Jungkook lets out a mixture of a moan and a growl, shaking on the floor in arousal. You and him are connected by a single string of saliva, the image so sinful even hell needed to look away and breathe. 

The string breaks, you straighten up again. Jungkook keeps his tongue outside, gazing up at you. 

"You can swallow it."

Jungkook does so without hesitation, moaning as he does. His eyes flutter, only the white is showing for the briefest of moments as he feels your spit run down his throat. He is reborn, this is his life elixir. He looks back up at you, breathing heavily. 

"Thank you", he whimpers, "holy shit you are so hot. I love being your bitch."

"I kinda like it too", you grin, stroking over his head gently, "I hope I'm not too rough."

"You're fucking incredible. Holy shit I'm so hard for you", he says, moaning as he palms himself. 

"Fucking get up then and kiss me", you say, pulling at his hair until he stumbles to his feet.

He falls into you, hands on your sides and body pressed against yours. He kisses you needily, putting all of his desperation into the kiss. Your back is rubbing against the doorframe, your core rutting against his stomach as you wrap your leg around his hips again. 

He feels like paradise. Kissing, so you decided, only feels really nice when there is much more in them than pure lust. Desire, adoration, want, devotion, love. Jungkook’s kisses are all of this and so much more. Desperation. That is the word you were looking for. He is so desperate to be buried inside of you, his cock is in so much pain in those tight leather pants. 

"Fuck me", he moans between kisses. 

You growl into his mouth, pulling at his neck until he finally starts walking. Your next destination: Your bedroom.

You moan, holding onto his neck tighter as you stumble down the hallway. Kissing and walking. It should seem impossible and somehow you still make it work. Jungkook moans when you begin sucking on his lower lip, knees shaking as arousal rushes to his stomach. 

You gasp. Just this moment Jungkook had pressed you against the dresser in the hallway. Your back arches as he chases your lips, hands on your back supporting you. You can’t get enough of this. He doesn’t taste of your juices anymore. He tastes like Jungkook in the evening. Memories of all the times you tasted him are rushing through your mind, numbing you for anything other than Jungkook. He never changed. He still tastes the same. 

Your fingers hook in the hem of his turtleneck, pulling it up his body. The kiss breaks as Jungkook removes it for you, throwing it mindlessly onto the floor. 

You really wanted to drink in his hot body but Jungkook kissed you before you could. He moans into the kiss, licking into your mouth like a man starved. 

Hands connect with his chest, fingers finding his nipples without problems. One flick and Jungkook has to break the kiss to inhale sharply through his teeth. 

"Fuck baby, feels so good" he moans, cupping your face with both his hands to press his forehead against yours. He whimpers, forcing his eyes closed. 

"I missed you so much", he chokes out, one single tear escaping his left eye and rolling down his cheek. 

"I missed you too", you pant, having to close your eyes so you wouldn't start crying as well. It is weird you had just thought the same thing as him. As you finally felt his naked skin under your fingertips it dawned on you. Jungkook was with you again. He is here, with you, making up for all the months apart with his touches and kisses. He is here and leaves such happiness in your chest it leaves you gasping.

He tilts your head up, caging you between the dresser and him to kiss you deeply. He is here again, kissing you as if he never stopped kissing you. You whimper and moan, tongue tangling with his. You drag your fingers down his chest, adding your nails when you reach his toned stomach. His abs look the best when there are scratch marks all over them. 

Jungkook’s muscles tighten, shivers running through his body. He whines, kisses you deeper. 

You swirl your nails up and down his v-lines, making his hips flinch in answer. Jungkook has to break the kiss to gasp for air. His thumb caresses your chin, his other finger resting on your neck. 

"I can barely handle it", he whispers. He isn’t even able to open his eyes, it feels too good. 

You grab the buckle of his belt, opening it in one expert move. You haven’t forgotten how to do it, even after all those months apart. The realisation forces yours and Jungkook’s lips together in another desperate kiss. The belt falls open, your fingers fumbling with his button a moment later. You are so excited you can’t even get it open. 

"Fuck", you growl against his lips. 

"Let me", Jungkook reaches down, replacing your fingers with his. One movement later his button is open. 

"Thanks", you mumble, twisting on the spot so you could pull him down the hallway by his pants. 

Jungkook stumbles after you, moaning into your mouth as he holds you close by the back of your shoulders. Just four more steps then your back collides with the door of your room. 

You somehow manage to open it, stumbling into the room with him still hooked on your fingers. The door falls closed, Jungkook gets pressed up against it. 

He is panting, blown-out eyes racing between yours. His zipper gets pulled down. Your mouth connects with his chest. 

"Mistress please", he gasps, head falling against the door, "no more teasing, it hurts so much." 

"Patience", you growl, licking a thick strip down his sternum until you reach the first ridge of his abdominal muscles. 

"I'm so hard, fuck I'm so hard", he whines, shuddering with every kiss you leave on his stomach. 

His pants slip down his hips as you pull them down. One kiss to his lower abdominal muscles and Jungkook is moaning your name above you. His pants slip over his ass, freeing his painfully constricted erection in the process. 

"Finally, fuck oh god it feel so gooooood", Jungkook moans, hips writhing against the door. 

One kiss to his v-line, eliciting a needy gasp from him, and then you are on your knees. His pants land on the floor, pooling by his ankles. 

"Are you going to suck my cock?" Jungkook yelled the question because he couldn't believe his luck. 

"Baby, I want your cock so far down my mouth you are touching that little dangly thing at the back of my throat", you rasp, making him cackle. 

"Did you just quote Cardi B on me?" 

"Perhaps I did", you grin, connecting your lips with his clothed erection. 

Jungkook bangs his head against the door. 

"Fuck! Baby, baby, baby careful. Fuck careful", he pants, he is so sensitive it hurts. 

You carefully remove his briefs, pulling them to his ankles. Your mouth waters, Jungkook moans. 

"Oh god it feels so good, so free."

So that's how his cock looked like. Exactly like you remember it, maybe even a little thicker and a hell lot veinier. It's the sexiest dick you have ever seen. 

"Fuck I want you so bad", you growl. 

"Please mistress, me too", he pleads, holding his cock in his inked-up hand. 

"That's it, hold your cock for me", you rasp, placing your hands on his hips, "keep it nice and still for me." 

"Y-yes mistress", he pants, nodding obediently. 

Your eyes meet, your tongue darts out. One flick over his purple tip and Jungkook is screaming, his jaw almost dislocating from how far his mouth fell open. 

You press his hips against the door, keeping them from bucking up into your mouth. The workouts with Seokjin paid off, holding him down is a lot easier than it was three months ago. Jungkook notices it too, whimpering at the view of your toned arms flexing. 

"You're so sexy", he whines, fingers tightening around the base of his cock to keep himself from cumming. 

"You too", you growl and then your lips wrap around his cockhead. 

"Please!" he yelps, knees wobbling and nails scratching down your door. 

You don’t go fast, knowing that he couldn't handle it. He is so hard in your mouth, tasting so hardcore of precum it is surprising he hasn't cum yet. 

Moaning needily you take more of his cock inside of, hollowing out your cheek for him. You start bopping your head up and down, making sure the tip of his cock strokes over the inside of your cheek with every bop. You know this feels incredible for him. 

"Careful, please it's so sensitive", he begs, squeezing the base harder. 

You relax your jaw, take more of him until you feel your gag reflex threatening to turn on. You may have lied a little, gagging is still kind of scary for you. But Jungkook doesn’t even seem to notice that you don’t keep your promise of him touching the little dangly thing at the back of your throat. He is lost in pleasure. Pink, swollen lips parted in a moan, head throw back, eyes pressed closed, his neck on full display and chest heaving up and down in fast pants. 

"Feels so good", he manages to choke out in a whisper. 

You suck on his cock as you move your head back, making his entire body shake. Without giving him a moment to relax you sink down on his length again, hard and fast.  

"I'm gonna cum" Jungkook yelps, fingers barely closing around the base of his cock. 

"Nuh-uh", you are off his cock in an instant, squeezing down hard at the base of his cock. You can feel it pulsate once. 

"Please, please, mistress please", Jungkook sobs, knees almost giving up on him. 

"Patience I have something else planned for you."

"W-what? Mistress please I'll do anything. 

"On your knees slut." 

Jungkook falls to his knees before you, reaching for your arms in desperation. He pulls at them, holding onto your wrists as he does. He is fucking desperate for you. 

"I can barely handle it, it hurts so much", he hiccups. 

"Quit complaining", you bark, grabbing a bundle of his hair, "get on all fours bitch." 

Jungkook moans, letting you press him down onto his elbows. You are so rough, he is so turned on by it.

"Holy shit", he hisses. 

You are by his side, one hand on his lower back and the other tightly wrapped around his hair. You tilt his head back, eliciting a needy whine from him. 

"You know what I wanna do?" you rasp into his ear, fingers dancing down his back to his ass cheeks. 

"Tell me mistress, please anything I just wanna cum", he pants, trying his hardest to look at you. 

"Fuck that tight little hole of yours with my tongue", you moan the words. 

Jungkook convulses, back arching and cock twitching. 

"Please, please, please I need it. Oh my god I fucking need it so badly", he moans, nodding his head vigorously. 

"I knew you wouldn’t say no to it", you chuckle darkly, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before you crawl to the back of him. 

Jungkook holds his breath, eyes pressed shut. This is it, the moment he secretly dreamt about all the time. You are taking his anal virginity, well technically speaking you weren’t, he did in the showers one night back in the days when you were out getting wasted with Jimin in some random bar, but it still feels like you are. 

"Please go easy on me", he pleads, knowing that he won’t last long. 

You grab his ass, massaging it tenderly. 

"We can stop at any time", you assure him softly.

"I know", he says, shivering at the feeling of your hands. 

"Wanna stop?"

"No! Don't stop mistress. Please don’t stop", he begs, arching his back so you would get a better view of his parted ass. 

"Fuck, look at you", you moan, pointer finger dancing down his slit, "are you seriously waxing your asshole?" 

"It feels so good when I do", Jungkook is so deep in his sub headspace even his darkest confessions can’t embarrass him. 

"Yeah? Of course it does. You are such a slut for pain, aren't you?" you tease, connecting your hand with his right ass cheek in a hard spank. 

Jungkook’s head bounces back, his back arching. He screams your name, fingers twisting in the rug. Another spank to his other cheek to make it look all even. Jungkook sobs, his cock is literally dripping precum, ruining your rug with it. 

You use the moment of him being so utterly lost in the pleasure of pain to part his ass and spit on his hole. Jungkook falls forward. He doesn’t even sound like Jungkook at this point, so needy and desperate you almost feel bad for handling him so harshly if you didn't know how much he enjoys it. 

You watch your spit run down his hole, licking it up before it can drip down too much. 

"___, darling, baby, no fucking joke I can’t", he moans, hitting the floor repeatedly. 

"Is it too much?" you took it as a sign of him being uncomfortable, raising your head in an instant.

"No, I can't believe how good this feels. Please I need more", he chokes out. 

"Okay", you say, parting his ass again to connect your mouth with his hole. Your eyes are glued to the back of his head, watching him for a reaction. 

Your tongue darts out first, flicking over the puckered rim quickly. Jungkook whimpers, inked-up back heaving up and down in heavy breaths. 

"Feels so good", he moans.

So this is how eating ass feels like. You have always wondered how it felt like, whenever Jimin talked about his countless sex adventures it made you imagine the sensations of it. You flick your tongue over his hole, slow and calculated just like he always does with your pussy when he wants to warm you up to the sensations. It feels really nice, you really like it. Especially because it is Jungkook you are doing it with, you are sure with any other person it would have felt weird, but not with Jungkook. It is so goddamn fucking arousing, you can barely handle it. You just want to go faster, taste more, go deeper.

"More, please mistress more", he begs as if on command, wiggling his ass into your face. 

You add more pressure, moaning darkly. Thank fuck. You speed up the movements of your tongue, flicking it up and down his hole quickly. So good, so delicious, so fucking hot. More, more, more. Faster, harder, more pressure. You are feasting on him like a starved animal, moans rippling through your chest.

"Yes! Yes! Yeah, yeah, ah, ah! Yes!" Jungkook yelps, hitting the floor again, "don't stop, please mistress don’t s-stop."

This is so hot. Your eyes fall closed, a needy moan leaving you. You grab more of his ass cheeks, spreading them further to dig in even deeper. You press the flat of your tongue against his hole, nodding your head up and down quickly for added stimulation. Jungkook sucks in air, chokes and has to cough, he catches himself fast enough, moaning instead. 

"It's so good I'm choking. Mistress I can barely handle it, it feels so good", he rasps, face pressed against his lower arm.  He sobs, body shuddering in pleasure. 

"It feels so fucking good", he wails. He really doesn’t sound like Jungkook anymore. Well, in theory he does because this was still your Jungkookie, but you have never heard him like this before. So submissive his voice is at least an octave higher than usual, it is like he is a completely different person when you eat his ass. It's the hottest shit ever. 

You growl, flicking your tongue up and down his hole. More. You are so curious what else can leave his lips. One hand leaves his ass to press down on the small of his back to arch it even more. Jungkook does so eagerly, reaching behind to replace your hand with his. 

"Good boy", you coo, drinking in the way his tatted fingers look digging into his skin. He is spreading his ass so goddamn fucking perfectly. 

"Fuck you’re so sexy like this", you groan, "I can’t believe we haven’t done this sooner."

"Yeah, right? We just needed to break- ooooooh fuuuuck", Jungkook can't even finish his sentence and you are already on his hole, wiggling your tongue into it as deep as possible. 

"Jesus christ, holy fuck, dear god", Jungkook is spiraling, loosing himself to the sensations, "so close, mistress, I so close", he can’t even form coherent sentences anymore. 

He is so tight around your tongue, pulsating with every thrust. This is a feeling you never want to stop experiencing. It feels so powerful, knowing that he is getting fucked by your tongue. That this cocky, self-assured biker, you had first met him as, is now reduced to an ass-spreading, snotty mess of pleasure. This is so exhilarating. 

You fuck him deeper, in and out, in and out your tongue goes, opening him up in the best way possible. Moans leave you as you do, spit runs down your chin. He is getting fucked so good, you are making sure he is feeling everything. Jungkook is sobbing, shaking uncontrollably. 

"So good, so good, so good", the two words leave him like a mantra. He has never felt such pleasure before. It is like he is on fire, being burned alive and he enjoys every second of it. 

Your hand leaves his lower back to reach forward, finger wrapping around his cock. This is his downfall and you know it is. You press more of your tongue inside, moaning loudly and start jerking him off. 

It takes him one stroke and then he is cumming so hard he sees stars. He couldn't even warn you, his orgasm knocked him out before he could. He is screaming, face buried in the carpet and hips fucking into your hand uncontrollably. There is so much cum, you know that your carpet needs a proper clean after that. Holy shit, you think, still swirling your tongue over his pulsating hole, for how long is this going on? Jungkook can’t seem to stop, muscles constricting over and over again as he cums for what feels eternity to him, sobbing at the intensity of it. It was fifteen seconds, you counted it. It was fucking incredible to look at. 

Jungkook collapses onto the floor, rolling onto his back before he could fall into his own cum. He looks destroyed. Sweat runs down his heated face and his eyes are still out of focus as he stares at the ceiling and forces air into his lungs. 

"How was it?" you ask, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Jungkook furrows his brows, lower lips trembling and then he cries, hands thrown over his face.

“Holy shit”, he sobs, body quivering.

“Darling, hey. You okay?” you say, smiling as you crawl over to him. You caress his stomach. 

He nods, sniffling behind his hands.

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit”, he hiccups, "I,I didn’t have an orgasm in like four months and this one just fucked me up real good. Holy fuck why can’t I stop c-crying?" 

"Wait, you for real? Kook, you really didn’t have an orgasm in four months? Not even from masturbation?"

Jungkook lets you pull his hands away from his face. He looks close to death, destroyed and yet so, so happy. He nods, taking deep breaths to calm down.

“Why?”  

"I just-" he shrugs his shoulders, "-I tried to jerk off, but it just made me feel shitty inside so I gave up on it."

"You're fucking with me. You didn't jerk off for four months?" 

"I'm serious", he closes his eyes and sighs, "I didn’t wanna do it, knowing what I did to you. I didn’t deserve to feel good, I needed to suffer. That's what I told myself." 

"God fucking damn Jungkook you really hated yourself didn’t you?" you gasp, caressing his cheek. 

"Yeah", he croaks out, eyes filling with tears, "I hated myself so much." 

"Do you still hate yourself?" 

"Sometimes I do, whenever you do something fucking nice for me I hate myself so much", he confesses, eyes lowering.

"Please don’t", you lean down to kiss his lips. 

Jungkook sighs, fingers grasping for your cheek almost instinctively. You lie down next to him, supporting yourself on his chest. You deepen the kiss, making him moan softly. He shouldn’t hate himself anymore. You forgave him weeks ago. You don’t want him to hate himself anymore. He deserves love, including self-love, and it hurts so bad knowing how much self-hatred there is still inside of him. You pull back, cupping his cheek. 

"Please don’t hate yourself anymore."

"You're saying this and right this moment my chest filled with self-hatred", he whispers, eyes glassy, "I just feel so guilty." 

"Don't, I forgive you", you insist, "let's make a deal. As much as I am falling in love with you again I want you to fall in love yourself twice as much." 

Jungkook pouts, lower lip trembling. You kiss it tenderly, kissing the tip of his nose afterwards. 

"Can you try doing that for me?"

"I-I'll try", he hiccups, nodding his head hesitantly. 

"Good, that's what I like to hear", you say, fond smile so bright it reaches your eyes. 

Jungkook’s eyes race between yours, his breathing still heavy.

"Kiss me darling", he whispers. 

You lean down and kiss him passionately, showing him just how much you appreciate him. Fingers tangle in his hair, your tongue is caressing his lips. He parts them, allows you entrance and you take it. Slow and passionate you feel him up, making his chest feel so incredibly warm inside. 

He pulls at your body until you roll on top of him, finding your new home between his legs. He hugs you so tightly and yet it doesn’t feel good. You want to get closer to him, feel him just like god made you. 

"Wait", you pant, breaking the kiss. 

"What is it?" he asks, eyes racing over your face. 

You sit up, "my shirt", you say and then you pull it over your head, throwing it somewhere far away from you. 

"Holy fuck, darling you are so beautiful", he gasps, placing his hands on your naked chest right under the swell of your breasts. 

"You look even better than you did in my memories", he whispers, brushing his thumbs over your breasts tenderly.

Goosebumps rise on the parts he touches, shivers run down your spine. You have never felt better before. 

"You are so goddamn fucking beautiful", he says breathlessly, circling his thumbs over your hardened nipples slowly. 

"I missed being like this with you so much", you confess, fingers dancing up and down his naked torso. 

"Me too", Jungkook breathes, sitting up to come face to face with you, "I wanna be as close to you as humanly possible", he whispers, lips mere inches away from kissing you. 

"I wanna be even closer than that", you murmur softly. 

That game you and him are playing is close to maddening. Leaning closer to kiss only to pull back in the last moment. His lips so close it would only take one tilt of your head to feel them and yet they are unreachable. A game of push and pull. A game unbearable.

"Kiss me", you breathe, hooking your fingers behind his neck. 

"No, you", he rasps, playful grin on his face. 

You lean closer, fingers tickling his skin. It tickles, like a feather dancing over your lips and then he pulls back. You giggle breathlessly, Jungkook chuckles. You chase him again, eyes glued to his lips. So close. 

"Kiss me", you whisper, hands holding his face. 

Jungkook leans closer, breath mixing with yours. Shivers run down your body, heart speeding up. He moans quietly, parting his lips. 

"Do it", he breathes, dancing his fingers up your arms to your neck. 

You hold his face tighter and kiss him, you kiss him so deeply it feels like you want to melt with him. Jungkook moans and wraps his arms around, squeezing you to his body. Hot skin on hot skin. Your naked body against his. Two people connecting. He never thought that he could miss a naked body like that, but he did. He missed you so much. 

Your hands leave his face so you could hug him back, getting on your knees as you do. Jungkook chases your lips, tilting his head up. Closer. As close as humanly possible, maybe even closer than that. 

You leave your safe nest between his legs to sit down on a naked thigh instead. It makes you gasp. Jungkook groans, he starts to taste salty again. His hug tightens, his kiss deepens. One hand is in your hair, the other on your back. He never wants to let go. You never want to leave this embrace. 

You start moving on his thigh, circling your hips over his toned muscle. His muscles flex as your core rubs over his thigh. You shudder, almost having broken the kiss if Jungkook hadn’t bit down on your lower lip until it tingles. He is finally doing it. He is finally letting you take a seat on his stupid chair tattoo. He is finally letting you ride his thigh like he had promised you all those months ago. It should turn you on, and it does, but it also makes you cry. Your tears mix with his'. Jungkook sucks it up like it was his favourite medicine. This isn’t even a lie. You are his favourite medicine. You’ve never been that close to him before, at least it feels like that for the both of you.

Your legs start shaking, your core feels like it might explode. Jungkook feels so good underneath you. His muscles flex at the exact time you would feel it the most, you know this is only possible because he knows your body so well. Even after all those months apart he still knows every inch of it as if he never left.

Jungkook moans, tongue dancing with yours in a desperate, open-mouthed kiss. He grabs your hips and speeds up the movements of them, pressing you down harder. He moans again at the feeling of your fingernails digging into his shoulders. You are whimpering, almost sobbing. Every muscle in your body is tense, your core burning up. You are soaked in arousal, you can actually hear it in the otherwise silent room. Maybe it is because giving him the rimjob turned you on so good or because it is Jungkook, but you are close and this is not how you want to cum. 

"Jungkook slow down, I don’t wanna cum like that", you pant, rubbing your hands up and down his chest. 

Jungkook slows down, caressing your sides. He stares at you with hazy eyes, cheeks heated.

"What do you want?" he asks, shuddering as he feels your nails drag down his upper body. He is so hard again, aching to be inside of you.

"I want your cock", you purr, gazing at him with blown out eyes. 

"Are you clean?" 

"Yes, we used a condom."

"So I can trust you?" 

"You can trust me Kook, you’re the only man I fuck raw."

"Shit", he whimpers, pressing his forehead against yours, "you're making me cry." 

"Don't cry", you whisper, kissing him tenderly, "it's okay." 

Jungkook whimpers, letting you kiss him. He is puddy in your hands. 

"Fuck me darling. Please fuck me", he whispers, breathing heavily.

You scoot further up his thigh until your core hovers above his swollen length. You wrap your fingers around him, jerking him off lazily. 

"I can’t wait anymore, please darling, fuck me", he pleads, hooking his fingers behind your neck. 

"Darling", you murmur, stroking his cock up and down your folds, "darling I'm so wet for you."

"I can feel it", Jungkook takes a deep breath, "please fuck me." 

His begging is too good to resist him any longer. You want to feel him, want to be stretched out by him. 

"Hold me as I do it", you plead, travelling your hands down his arms. He reaches for you, fingers intertwining with yours, "that’s it, don’t ever let go."

"I'll never let go again", he says shakily, squeezing your hands.

You sink down on him slowly, moaning just as good as Jungkook does. Inch by inch you reconnect, becoming one as you were destined to be. Jungkook squeezes your hands, you hold him tighter. You couldn't handle it otherwise. He stretches you out so good warmth floods your entire body. 

"You feel so good baby, holy shit", you whimper, having to kiss him again. 

He kisses you back, abandoning your hands to wrap his arms around your middle instead. This is almost too much. You don’t even have to move and you are so close to nirvana. He makes you feel so warm, so perfectly stretched out. He is so deep inside of you, connected with you with every inch he has to offer. 

Your kiss breaks. 

"How is it for you?" you ask him, feeling up and down his back with tender fingers. 

"It's like coming home", he whispers against your neck, struggling with his own pleasure. He is finally safe again. 

"Home", you whimper, burying your face on his shoulder, "yeah home."

You start moving. It is slow, so slow if one was watching you they wouldn’t even see it. But you feel it and Jungkook feels it too. 

"You feel so good", he moans, kissing your neck as he inhales your scent and holds you close, "so good."

"You too", you whisper, drawing eight figures with your hips. He is so amazing. No one in this world can make you feel like this. So warm and safe. Like home. Jungkook said it. This is like coming home. 

"Jungkook I don’t know if I can last long", you whimper breathlessly against his shoulder. 

"Me neither, I missed this so much", he rasps, nose tickling your neck with your lips following it. 

"Me too, fuck I missed you so much", you whimper, heart barely handling all those emotions flooding you. You speed up, riding him in wavelike rolls of your hips. His pubic bone rubs against your clit, his cock grazes over your swollen g-spot with every roll. This is going to be a warm orgasm, one that lulls you into relaxation and reminds you how nice it is to be alive. You are really looking forward to it, those are your favourites, especially when you can share them with Jungkook.

Jungkook pants for air, squeaking out high-pitched moans. He feels so good, he is going to cry if you keep making love to him like that. 

"Kiss me, darling please kiss me", he begs and so you do.

Maybe you are crying a little bit too. You still can’t believe this is happening again. That he is finally yours again. All those painful months you spent longing for him, hating him, crying for him, they are nothing but a distant memory. He is actually here again, connected with your body in the most intimate of ways. 

"You feel so good", you whisper between kisses, rolling your hips on his length. 

"You feel so good too", he rasps and abandons your back to hold your hips instead. He caresses them tenderly, helping you with your movements just that slightly.

"I can’t get enough of this feeling", you moan and then you kiss him again.

You kiss him until your teeth clash together and your nose hurts from being squished against his cheek. Jungkook kisses you back just as deeply, holding you tighter as he rolls you on his length. You have never felt so good in your life before than right now. All those hurtful words you had thrown at his head, all those apologies he threw back, they are as if they never existed. You are totally consumed by him. You have sunk into him, there is no escape. You just have to keep on swimming in his warmth.

You sob. Not only from your emotions overwhelming you, but also from your approaching high. You grab his face, lick into his mouth one could have thought you want to smother him, and speed up your movements.

Jungkook whimpers, head falling against the edge of your mattress as his eyes roll back. 

"I'm so sensitive, darling please I can barely handle it", he whines, mouth hanging open in ecstasy. 

"Sorry. I'm just so desperate for you I lost myself for a second", you slow down again, holding onto his shoulders as you roll your hips back and forth, "how's that?"

"Incredible", he moans, "you're incredible sweetheart."

The warm knot in your stomach tightens, new wetness seeping out of you. You missed this nickname so much. 

"Oh Jungkookie", you bury your face in the crook of his neck, arms hugging him, "I missed you."

"I missed you too", he whimpers, "fuck I missed you so much", he moans and digs his nails into your skin, bucking his hips up as good as possible. 

"Shit!" you yelp, not having expected his thrust, "oh god, darling." 

"Does this feel nice?" he chokes out shakily, purring with every new thrust. 

"Yeah, you feel so nice", you moan, throwing your head back and holding onto his shoulder. You meet his movements, bouncing on his cock. You don’t go as fast as you normally would, but you go deep. So deep he hits even the most hidden places inside of you.

"Baby", Jungkook sobs in a squeak, "baby I really c-can't take much more." 

"Me t-too." 

"Kiss me."

You lean down to kiss him, moaning his name against his lips. You stumble, Jungkook follows. Or maybe it was the other way around, you really have no idea, but you know that reached your highs together. You know that you were hugging him so close your bodies became one and you know that you sobbed against his lips because you felt so happy. This doesn’t feel like your first orgasm, it's not toe curling, no this feels as if the fire inside of you wanted to burn all those bad memories to ashes.

Jungkook holds you through it, he keeps on kissing you, swallowing all the sounds you make like a man starved as he is left shaking underneath you. He sobs, the butterflies in his stomach almost unbearable. This isn’t like his first orgasm, explosive and almost mind numbing, no this one is warm and nice, it makes him feel so happy to be alive with you. 

 Your kiss breaks as your limb body falls into his chest. Your face is pressed into his chest, your fingers twisting in his hair as you sob. Jungkook hugs you, face hiding in your neck as he cries.

It goes on for minutes where you simply lay in each others arms and cry. You cry all those sleepless nights away, you cry all those nightmares away, you cry all those painful days away, you cry everything away. This is going to be the last time you will cry because of him. You won’t be crying in a long time, you can feel it in your heart. This right here is the end of all those endless tears. The crescendo, the big finale, the curtain fall. Only happiness will follow. 

When your cries finally stopped you feel tired and relieved at the same time. Your head hurts and yet it had never felt that freed of worries before. Jungkook feels the same. He is healed, he thought he was destined to hurt until eternity and yet being your arms again healed him. He is finally happy again. No more night terrors, no more guilty stomach aches, no more self-hatred. He is starting to fall in love with himself again.

"I'm not scared anymore Kookie", you whisper, melting in his arms, "I love falling in love with you."

Jungkook sniffles. He smiles and hugs you to his chest.

"It's not just you", he breathes. 

"What do you mean?" you ask, raising your head with the last bit of strength left inside of you. 

Jungkook tugs a strand of hair behind your ear. He kisses your forehead, eliciting goosebumps on your skin.

"I'm falling in love with you too ___ and it feels so good I think if I tried to fly I could actually take off."

[holylulusworld]

The Roommate (5) - Happy together

Summary: You and John belong together.

Pairing: AU John Winchester x fem!Reader

Characters: Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, OFC Sharon

Warnings: language, angst, plus sized reader, mentions of sex, flirty John, fluff, cuddling & snuggling, implied smut

A/N: The idea for plot and some details came from @shooterere per request.

Divider by @firefly-graphics​​​

The Roommate masterlist

“So, are you healthy again,” Dean sits on your desk, to watch you hastily thumb through a few contracts. “Y/N, I asked you a question.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you squeak, eyes drifting toward John walk into your office, smirking like someone who stole your virginity not days ago. “Perfectly fine.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” muttering John’s eldest son gets up from your desk to warily watch his father round your desk to hand you another contract. “You fucked!”

“What?” you choke on air, looking at John with wide, fearful eyes.

“I can smell the tension and you look like dad marked your whole body with his teeth,” pointing at the bite mark on your neck, the one you tried to poorly hide with a scarf Dean smirks.

“I got no clue what you are talking about,” John grumbles, sitting on your desk, fingers dancing over your thigh. “And if I tasted her sweetness, it’s mine from now on.”

“Naughty girl got her hands on my dad. Good job, sweetheart,” Dean offers you a high-five. “Don’t let him get away with stealing your sweetness, keep him at your house and never stop riding his dick.”

“Dean!” you tut. “Not so loud. I-I didn’t ride his dick!”

“Dad,” Dean gives his father a stern look, but his lips curve into a dirty grin. “Let that girl ride dick. Give her what she needs.”

“Son, I swear I’ll kill you and make it look like an accident if you don’t stop right now,” threatening his son John watches you intensely.

You burst into laughter when Dean looks at you like a kicked puppy. “Aw, don’t hurt Dean. He’s lonely and begs for attention.”

“’m not,” Dean protests. “Maybe I’m simply happy my father finally got laid. He won’t be grumpy anymore, lucky bastard.” ushering out of the room before his father can fulfill his promise to kill him, Dean smirks. “I’m gonna tell Sammy I won the bet. Thank you for fifty bucks.”

“Bet?” you cock your head to look at Dean.

“Yeah, I said dad won’t make it another week. Sammy said he’ll wait two more weeks. Bobby grumbled something about that this is none of our fucking business but lost anyway.”

“That fucker,” John groans when you giggle again. “That’s not funny. My son’s made bets on my sex life.”

“What’s all this?” looking at the bouquet of red roses you wonder why John smiles at you. “John?”

“It’s our three months anniversary,” he explains. “I know it’s not an anniversary people usually celebrate but I felt like bringing you flowers today, doll.”

“John, the flowers are beautiful, but you didn’t have to buy them for me,” your heart flutters when John exclaims he couldn’t stop thinking about you when he saw the roses. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, doll,” John pecks your cheek, groaning when he hears Dean clear his throat behind his back.

“Sorry to disturb your quickie at Y/N’s office but I need help with the new customer. That guy drives me nuts. He refuses to let me open the hood. I tried to explain to him that I can’t find out what’s wrong with his car without having a look at the engine.”

“Fine, give me a few minutes and I’ll talk to that douche. What’s wrong with people lately. Who comes to a mechanic only to refuse to let them open the hood of his car?”

“Sir, if you don’t want us to repair your car, you are free to go and look for someone else,” John grunts. For half an hour he tried to convince his latest customer to open the hood of his car for Dean or Bobby.

“I came out here,” the man retorts, “only for you to not knowing how to find out what's wrong with my car.”

“I told you an hour ago that your car sounds like there is nothing wrong with the engine. The noises it makes tells me all I need to know, but I can’t repair it without opening the hood,” Dean lost his patience minutes ago and only wants to get rid of the annoying customer.

“Boss, there’s someone called Jim on the phone, he says his car is broken,” you poke your head out of the window to call for your boss. “Do you have a minute, John?”

“What did you say?” John looks in your direction, furrowing his brows as he didn’t get what you said. “Can you come out, doll?”

“Just a minute, boss,” you give John a thumb up before closing the window.

“Pastor Jim said it looks like the engine overheated,” you explain. “Shall I call him back and tell him you’ve got no time.” glancing at the customer you furrow your brows. “That guy, I know him.”

“You do?” John wonders, looking over his shoulder before he leads you a few steps away. “How come that you know him?”

“That guy, he’s an asshole,” you huff. “Marcy, one of my colleagues, kicked him out once. He came to our library every Thursday only to walk around, sneering at anyone who wanted to help him, and then, he just left, slamming the door shut.”

“Sonofabitch!” Dean yells, throwing his hands up in surrender and you snicker at his outburst.

“Kathy from the shop around the corner told us he came to her shop, looked around, grunted at her employees, and told her she should fire them as they tried to help him.”

���Fine, that is enough. I will kick that bastard out and we can have a lunch break,” John walks toward the customer.

“Dad, that was freaking awesome when you threatened to demolish his car,” Dean laughs, stealing another slice of pizza. “I never saw a guy run faster toward his car.”

“Seems like he gets off by treating people like shit,” Bobby explains. “Must be one lonely bastard.”

“Loneliness is awful, Mr. Singer,” you say, smiling when John grasps for your hand to squeeze it tightly. “Maybe he tried to get attention or something.”

“I want to talk to Johnny,” Sharon complains, pushing against the door. “Let me inside.”

“Listen, this is my house, and I don’t want you to enter it. If you want to talk to John, call him. I want you to leave my property or I’ll call the cops and you’ll get arrested,” you stand your ground. “But you shouldn’t waste your time, John doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“How do you wanna know, bitch?” she just doesn’t get the message. Sharon throws insults at you, not caring you flinch when she called you fat and ugly.

“What the fuck, Sharon!” John growls. He slams the door in her face to check on you. “Doll, I want you to go to bed as planned. I’ll take care of Sharon. Don’t worry,” he pecks your hair softly,” she won’t come back.

“O-okay,” you nod, giving John a pained smile. “I’ll be waiting for you, John. Do you still want to watch that movie?”

“Sure thing, doll,” he smirks, eyes shamelessly roaming your body. “And later I’m gonna devour that sweet pussy of yours again…”

You giggle at his words, eyes no longer filled with tears. “Catch me if you can, Winchester.”

“Aw, my girl tries to play hard to get,” John growls. “Give me five to get rid of Sharon and I’ll rock your world…”

“No, you will let me speak first,” John says, raising one hand to stop Sharon. “Before you broke up with me for a boy half my age, I already knew we are over. We never matched but I stayed with you, too afraid to end up alone.”

“You need me, John,” Sharon purrs, batting her eyelashes. She pouts, hoping John will change his mind.

“I don’t know why you keep on coming back to me, Sharon. It was you ending our relationship. I’m going to tell you this one last time. WE. ARE. OVER. I don’t want you to ever come back here.”

“Is it because of that chick? She can’t give you what I can give you, Johnny,” she coos.

“True,” Sharon smirks, believing she got one step closer to her goal. “Y/N gives me so much more. A home. Warmth. Love. I love that girl,” John slams the door in Sharon’s face before she can say another word. “Now move your ass off her property before she calls the cops.”

“Damn me, you are killing this poor old man,” John pants. He runs one hand over your sweaty back, laughing when you lazily lift your head. “Dean was right, I should’ve let you ride me first thing when we got home.”

“Don’t tell him,” you laugh, patting John’s chest. “I liked it, though.”

“Sharon will never bug you again, doll. I made sure she got the message,” you smile to yourself. “I love you too, John.”

“You heard me, didn’t you?” he groans. “I’m not good at admitting feelings but it’s true, I love you, Y/N.”

“You’re cute when you admit your feelings, John Winchester. I’m glad it was you who moved into my house. You’re the best roommate ever…”

The End...

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[antrivictrianne]

Okay, here’s another one for all Dipper x Pacifica shippers out there.

and the inspo behind this was this.

Dipper was rummaging through the box of vinyl music records collection in his uncle's office and there Grunkle Stan walked in and asked him as he sees him too focused on his task.

"Hey kid, what are you doing with my stuff?"

Dipper replied as grabs a the stack of vinyl records stacked on both of his hands, "I'm just going to borrow these for a while." He took a moment to realize and with frustration on his face he told in himself out loud, "Why carry this with my hands if there's a box for me to carry it around!" He placed all the vinyl records one by one back in the box.

As he carries it and goes out of his uncle's room he told him, "Don't worry Grunkle Stan, I'll take care of these," His uncle replied as he chugs a can of Pitt Soda and looks at him going out of his room, "I highly doubt that and do whatever you want."

Dipper and Mabel went back in Gravity Falls not to just spend their summer with their Grunkles place, but rather they were excited about the re-opening of Greasy's Diner. After 3 years, they were able to go back in the town but this time it was something that the twins were excited for taking a role to prepare for the grand event.

"Okay Pacifica, I got what you wanted." He places the box on one of the dining tables in the Diner and he continued, "I thought the jukebox in this diner has like a LONG list of like the greatest hits of all time."

As Pacifica still on her waitress uniform, grungily was wiping on the counter table, "Are you gonna keep complaining? Or are you going to stick with Mabel's plan?" Dipper shrugged as he looks away from her doing her chore.

Dipper and Pacifica still hated each other even of what happened during the Northwest Party 3 years ago and the time that Mabel got her face stolen.

Dipper sat on one of the chairs of the counter saying with a bad mood on his face, " I can't believe that Mabel assigned me to do the task with you" He raises his hand the air saying, "Why can't Mabel assign this to me on my own."

Pacifica, on the other side of the counter slammed her hand in front of him defending herself, "Let me clear out my part." Dipper saw her as she makes 3 points with her hand, pointing each one while she was holding a rag and she continued, "Number one, I'm just doing this for Lady Suzan. Number two, I never asked Mabel to work with you and Number three, I don't really want to work with you either."

Dipper continues to look at her wiping each speck of stain on the counter, she saw him and she got disturbed, " What are you looking at Dipstick." he replied with a smug smile across his face, "Look at you working at the middle of the night. It's just ironic that the rich girl became a part time waitress in the night."

Pacifica tucks the rug away in one of the drawers under the counter and said, "Yeah yeah, shut it with your words Pines, I'm already used to hearing those 24/7."

She goes in the stockroom, grabbing an antique vinyl record player and places it next to the box of the vinyl records that Grunkle Stan owned.

She placed her hands on her hips and turn towards Dipper as he approached to the table and said, " Mabel saw this in the stock room and that's why she asked you to borrow your uncle's records. When he arrived at the dinning table, she added, "Besides, where is Mabel?"

Dipper replied as he grabs all the records one by one, "She's making the decorations back in Grenda's place and staying there overnight." he realized with a grudge on his face, "basically leaving us on purpose to give the responsibility to the both of us."

Pacifica crosses her arms and said with frustration, "No wonder she's had this all planned."

Dipper looked at her with confusion on his face, "What do you mean 'planned'?"

Pacifica with her crossed arms, made a sigh and place her right hand on her face as she looks down, " She texted me over and over again about us not getting along." She placed her left hand on her hip, "I told her that it wasn't a big deal to me." she raises her hand in the air and pointed on the window as she added, "and she made a joke about asking Lady Suzan leaving me here in the middle of the night with you." she crossed her arms again, "and now it happened."

Dipper who was grown tired of the situation replied, "Okay, that sounds like something that Mabel would do."

As she start to prepare the vinyl record, she said, "Let's just go on and try your records."

He asked again, "Why not use the jukebox? I mean it's from the 50's so it must have Iconic songs from that era."

With her annoyed face she replied, "If I have a dollar for every song I memorized in that jukebox. I would have the same amount as of how many songs are in the old box."

Dipper tries to hold his laughed as he realized that she was basically tortured by listening to the same list of songs 24/7.

As the night goes on, Dipper and Pacifica sit on different sides of the table, they were able to try almost every vinyl record in the box.

Pacifica who was sleepy as she placed and replaced each record to the record player, " Can we call it quits already. I need my beauty sleep."

Dipper grabbed the last vinyl record in the box and replied to her, "We still have one more."

This time, he placed the record to the player.

A slow, a ease, and catchy romantic song plays across the room.

Dipper said with a little shock, " I didn't know that he listens to love songs."

Pacifica replied as she lays her head on the table, " I mean we've been listening to some funky 70's music for the last few hours so it's kind of nice to listen this song for a while."

suddenly, he said "Wait, you know this song?"

she replied, "yeah. It's what my mom and dad danced on their wedding day and it's a timeless classic."

he added, " I thought you hate old songs."

she defended, "I didn't say 'all' old songs."

Their conversation broke into silence and the music continues to echo in the walls of the room, they both sat in silence as they listen to the song as a break from the disco like music they've been listening for the past few hours.

As Dipper sat there listening to the music, he recalls the time when he was with Pacifica 3 years ago. They weren't really that close back then he knows her for being the rich, spoiled, and entitled brat in the entire town. Ever since what happened in the Northwest Mansion 3 years ago, he slightly changed his mind about her and her growing up with such a harsh childhood that was caused by a bell. If he does remember something that was really significant from her. It's about the hug that she gave to him and occurred to him that she did it twice. He can still recall the smell of champagne and roses years ago and he can tell the same smell from her until now.

"Do you know how to dance?" Pacifica asked all of a sudden.

Dipper raised his eyebrow as he replied "What?"

"I'm asking if you know how to dance, dummy." she asked.

he asked her again "Okay this isn't like you Pacifica, are you sure you're not the shapeshifter."

"Real funny, Dipper." as she rolls her eyes

"Why should I dance with you?" he insisted

"That's not how you should reply to a young lady, Mr. Pines." she looks away from him as she realizes that she regretted asking that question

"You know what let's call it a day." Pacifica stood up from across the table and heads to the back kitchen.

"Where are you going?" Dipper asked.

"I'm going to throw the garbage from the kitchen to the back and once I go back here you better turn off that song." she walks in the kitchen as the kitchen door closes.

He asked himself why she was upset of him not dancing with her, until his phone rang. He picked it up and leaned it to his ear.

"Bro bro, so how's the mission?" Mabel asked

Dipper replied, "Really? Pacifica?! You expect me to work with her?"

she answered, "What's wrong with that? Besides she told me she was willing to do anything with you anytime." she answered

"There are some many things wrong with- wait. Did you just say she's willing to anything with me?" he stuttered at the last line his sister told him.

Mabel made a little giggle, "Dipper you know it's what you wanted."

"I didn't ask for this Mabel." as Dipper tries to dodge the situation he got into

she answered with a scheming smile on her face "But Mr. Journal number 3 says otherwise."

"Like I said Mabel, it was not supposed to be there." he whispers and place his hands to cover his mouth

"But it says that she looks very nice in her gown and she smells like champagne and roses." she replied with joy on her face.

Dipper paused and blushed a little as he realized that did wrote that without hesitation.

she added, "And I told that Pacifica as well."

"YOU WHAT!!!" Dipper screamed to the phone

"If there's something you want to get from me right now, there are 2 things. One of that is for you and the other one is from Pacifica. You choose what ever you like, The first thing is that one of you want to do this task alone. The Second one is that one of you does not mind of doing this alone."

Dipper was confused with her statement, but that confused him in so many ways to the point he was concerned about what Pacifica thought about the entry that he wrote about her.

"Well, good luck." Mabel ended the call and as he tried to speedial his sister's number,

Pacifica went out of the kitchen.

she asked him, "Why didn't yo turn off the song?"

he replied, "Mabel called m-."

As he was about to finish his sentence, Pacifica turned off the player and tries to tidy up the used records.

There the music was playing again and as she noticed it playing she said, "Dipper, I swear to the heavens above. I will break your bones if you don't turn off the song-"

She turns her head to her side and she saw him giving his hand to her asking, "Wanna dance?"

Pacifica stood there silently, "Earth to Pines, are you there?"

He rubbed the back of his head his other hand saying, "I guess Mabel told you about the entry I wrote about you in my Uncle's journal."

Pacifica blushed intensely, "So... Mabel wasn't lying?"

Dipper made a little smile on his face admitting, "pretty much."

Pacifica added, "This is the worst time for you to ask me for a dance, so we better get going-"

He grabs her hand, grabs her waist close to him and shyly asked her, "Well you didn't say no."

Pacifica gave out a sigh and said, "Fine, you got me."

As they were about to move to their first step to dance, Pacifica placed both on her arms on his neck and she asked him, "First of all, do you know how to dance?"

He looks away and replies, "Is 'No' a good answer?"

Pacifica lets out a small giggle, "You asked me to dance even if you don't know how?"

He blushed as he tries to defend himself, "I did what I had to do, can you at least give me credit for that."

she called him, "look at me and just move side to side along with the beat of the music."

Pacifica counts to the beat as they both took a step until they danced along with the music and he said, "I'm getting the hang of it-"

she suddenly said, "you're not so bad yourself."

Dipper said, "Well, that's the first time you complimented me."

She added with a little chuckle, "Well, your pass to getting my compliment was the part where you stated that I smell like champagne and roses."

he paused, lets go of her, pushes her away and lets out a big groan, "I FORGOT ABOUT THAT PART, WHY DID I WRITE THAT. I SOUND LIKE A CREEP."

Pacifica him saying while patting his head, "It's okay Dipper, I don't really mind. Besides you're the only person who complimented me for who I am, you know, the time Mabel got her face stolen?"

Dipper looked at her with a genuine smile across their faces, as he looks at the clock and said, "It's getting late. I think we should-"

Pacifica grabbed him by the face and she kissed his cheek, there he sat there dumfounded by the fact that the Pacifica Northwest gave him a kiss on the cheek. There he was still trying to process the fact that she kissed him in the cheek.

She got annoyed by the fact that he wasn't responding to her calling for attention, she grabbed his face again and gave a little kiss on his lips and she added with a little smug smile on her face, "If you're not going to talk I'm going to make you talk."

Dipper who already got her attention replied, "I don't really mind."

Maybe I should do this often.

[foryouthegays]

techno liveblog w timestamps lets go for ‘a new home (dream SMP)’ stream

good laugh times: 00:13:50, 00:14:55, 1:38:45, ik it doesnt look like a lot but like u should watch the stream anyway bc philzas there and his laugh is amazing and they just go so well together

times techno calls phil his friend: 00:6:00 00:37:00, 00:45:17, 0:1:09:30, 01:11:15, 01:26:35, 01:50:05, 2:35:00

FSDJKFAF;LS HE KEPT THE MUTED INTRO IN JHKADFLS (ends at 00:1:25)

i like how, when faced with Leaving Youtube, techno would choose to be an author. i want a book by techno. reblog this if u want a book by techno (with an audiobook by him as well) /hj. 00:1:33

i love how he says ehhhhhh so much lskjhdfas (abt 2 mins in) 

who the FUCK just remembers that the word fortuitous exists wtf 00:5:17

00:7:45 PHILZA TIME PHILZA TIME LETS GO

00:8:55 tommy time :/

0:14:10 rANBOO JUST WALKS IN, LOOKS AROUN ,AND LEA VE SIM CRYING 

i love how much philza laughs at technos jokes bc pretty much everything he says IS a joke he just says it in such a serious voice that p much everyone else is like,,,yeah,,,,yup,,,,and phil just knows when hes joking and his laugh is so good with technos voice. sbi? whos that? i only know philza and technoblade

00:19:30 ghostbur joins! this is my first time hearin ghostbur btw

00:19:40 haha string axe technos so bad at crafting what a fool /j

00:21:07 ghostbur: “Even I remember how to make a fishing rod!” ghostbur u just MURDERED technoblade oh my god im gonna scream hgjdfksla i love ghostbur so much

00:23:55: GHOSTBUR NO!! DON’T DIE YOU’LL BECOME A DOUBLE GHOST!!!! -technoblade 2020

00:24:55 technoblade neva lies -guys he almost did the technoblade neva dies ahh!!!!!

i havent heard anyone talk about this but techno has a dedicated roleplay voice. like listen to him talk to tommy at 00:25:08. his voice gets more even, he uses names a lot more often (seriously, listen to his theseus speech. he says tommy so often, its incredible.), and his voice gets,,,,deeper? not deeper but smoother, in a way, and he repeats what he says for emphasis instead of humor. and his voice is louder, and he seems more assertive. 

00:27:30 philza: where we goin, by the way? techno: to our- to my new home. 

techno cmon let phil live w u wed get so much more content cmonn

00:28:50 the fact that he calls the manhunt theme “dream music” makes me laugh so hard. and then his version of it,,,,,m love he (also he sings it here and at  01:14:20)

00:35:10 why is ranboo so cryptic im-

why does he just casually know the word sentry wh at i hate him 00:39:45

this is the worst sentence (structurally) ive ever heard techno say im gonna cry 00:49:33 ‘im too busy thinkin of new ideas to sleep so i could actually execute them’ and tubbos *oh?* after is just hdsfgkjlka

LKSJDHFJK 00:51:49

00:54:30

techno: thats one of dreams powers, he can just stop the rain

tubbo, quietly: like jesus!

i love them sm dsfhkjla they kept going but i jus gdfhjksa jesus has op

techno @ being the second worst thing to ever happen to those orphans: haha funnie!!

techno @ having fun w religious stuff: i wILL BE CANCELLED NO-

00:58:10 “hey if ur [ghostbur]  a ghost, do instant damage potions heal you now?” “...no,, they hurt me still :(” DSIULZKJHFSLKFJH 

01:04:00 his brother named the cow bob im- aww 

also he has a fanart wall again!!!

01:09:30 “phil, you’re the only friend i have left in this world.” aWWWWW HE GAVE HIM THE COMPASS 

“dont smoke, it’s a joke” -technoblade 01:14:15

ROLEPLAY SPEECH VOICE IS BACK AT 1:16:10 “they pillage my base for everything i’m worth, they use me for the revolution, but oooOOOoo i took a pickaxe with his consent? oOOOooOo i’m a thief!”

holy shit 01:17:15 “you know what, phil? for you, the world, alright? it’s fine.” oH MY GOD HHHHGHG (context, right before they were arguing bc phil took some blocks from his base and techno thought that when he said phil could take anything he meant from the chests)

the COMIDY of that villager coming in and sleeping while techno was readin donos at 01:22:05 RIGHT AFTER phil freaked out abt inturruptin his dono readin im SFDHKJLA:

techno talkin bout the winstreak and how he wont be able to live up to that sort of playin at 01:22:30ish is super important and ill transcribe it tomorrow, but if u can id highly rec watchin it. 

01:24:20 “[readin dono] what’s your favorite movie? uh, the princess bride is pretty good” techno ily that movie rocks also he said it so fast like hes ashamed of it noo

techno says no to canon ranboo son btw! 01:25:30

01:25:55 “i wasnt in that story, therefore it doesnt matter” all of technoblr be like 

01:37:49 is great lemmie transcribe

“how have you still not gotten a second monitor?? holy shit.”

“let me tell you something. and im only telling you this because i know that so many people in the chat are gonna be furious. so i recently realized- i think the second monitor can just be any ol’ monitor, right? you literally just plug it in, and its set up? well i mean you have to turn on some settings, but like, thats it, or something?”

“yeah,,,,, uh techno you fuckin destroyed my chat, by the way, oh my god, [earlier techno told his viewers to twitch prime philza] there has been like 40 primes just flying through”

“yeahhh twitch prime!!! twitch prime philza yeahh!!! so anyways the other day, i like, i looked to my left, and realized that my old monitor has been like, five feet away from where i sit and stream for the last three years?”

“oh my god...”

“so i- i literally do not have to leave my room to set up a second monitor and i havent. and i’m still usin my laptop for this stream.

“is this gonna be one of those situations where you like, you have a thing, you just refuse to do the thing?”

“listen, my desk is-

“yOU STILL HAVENT OPENED UP THE HYPIXEL PACKAGE!!!”

“AHHHH I HAVENT OPENED UP THE HYPIXEL PACKAGE! I HAVENT EVEN OPENED UP MY MCC COIN! DUDE I HAVENT EVEN OPENED UP MY ONE MILLION SUBSCRIBER PLAQUE! ITS STILL THERE RIGHT BEHIND ME! ITs sTILL IN THE BOX! i never made a video on it....”

“bruhhhhh [philza laughs] thats FREE VIEWS what are you doing??”

“ill open it at 8 mil :/.”

“you could LITERALLY make a video of you just like, throwing it off a wall, and then thumbing up, like doing a thumbs up, and then that would be it. 10 seconds. ten seconds. thumb and elbow in shot. [laughs]”

techno is such a disaster i love him

01:34:18 the way techno says “tommy, that statement has NEVER been true” i dont like sayin i simp for block men but GOD sometimes his voice is nicer than usual hhhgn

“man i sure wish tommyinnit was in this stream” -nobody ever (just after previous timestamp)

01:40:15 is fuckin hilarious and im actually crying oh my god techno just says things and says them well with a completely straight face how does he do it

i cannot WAIT until theres a president w the last/first name andy so we can say president andy and think abt technoblade

IM CRIASDNGUSFHD 01:44:38 PHILZA LOOK OUT LOOK OUT PHILZA  LSKJDAFJASD;LKF

i love when techno talks abt his vids. like u can tell he puts a lot of thought into the vids (esp these ones) and like at 01:47:00 he talks abt the “I DIDNT PUT DEAPTH STRIDER ON THOSE BOOTS, FUNDY!” and how its just that creepin realization that you were doomed from the start and how he made the armor, he isnt intimidated by the netherite bc he didnt enchant it all the way and only he knows that,,, and i just,,,hgg he

he reveals that hes writin the next arc at 01:48:00: “oh, speakin of arcs, chat, i’m writing the next arc. so, you know. hope nothin bad happens in two weeks, chat!” IM SO EXCITED like he clearly has his character fleshed out and is SO good at writing and retellin history im so so excited to see where he takes it AHHHH and also taht means he might stream more bc he might make his character more important (keep in mind this is the guy who wrote self insert hypixel fanfics. he has no shame in puttin himself first and i respect him so much for it) 

01:51:20 “they’re tryin to get a second customer but they’re riskin their first” is lowkey a good line

has anyone else noticed that techno says wise a lot? like at 01:55:10 he literally says “wise dragon armor” as a joke but like i think he says wise so much BECAUSE of skyblock like hjkfdsla

01:57:30 techno plea se eat 

ok 1:58:45 is hilarious and all but at the end of his ramble he says “come back, i miss you” and lowkey im crying 

techno needs to stop knowing his audience more than we know ourselves im hsfkjda 02:05:25 “the chat’s spammin ‘eat technoblade, eat!’ like they’re not gonna start, like, theyre not gonna get super sad if i ended the stream right now, like theyre not gonna all cry ‘i miss technoblade *sniffs* why- whyd he leave to eat food, why did he listen to our advice noooo’”

02:14:50 NEW VIDEO POGGGG CARL THE HORSE POGGGGGG  NOT A STREAM HIGHLIGHT POGGGGG

02:17:40 “i could start a potato farm out here to show how much ive changed” techno last time u made a potato farm u started an entire war that lasted a year that does NOT say calm and retired to me lskgdfjagsldj

02:23:00 why does techno just reference greek mythology so much. makin me scared for his arc. 

also he talks abt smp earth a lot in this stream i love it so much

i also just. love?? how much sbi respect tommy like they bully him but when talkin bout him they just have so much respect for how much work he puts into youtube and i just,,,,hgnn they r friends 

02:33:13 sbi streamer house lets go cmon

02:34:15 “i think if i streamed every day i could keep up” on one hand YE S  but on the ohter oh god techno no we have to keep up tho

hearing techno say “violence isnt the answer” is so scary  02:35:40

02:37:30 technosneeze 

hiS BROTHER SENT HIM 46 DISCORD MESSAGES SFKDJLFLKASF 2:49:25 i love his end screen so much hes just sadness,,,,retirement,,,t,echnoblade,,,the government is going to fall on its own due to lack of organization and ideals,,,,,,subscribe,,,,,sadness,,,,,also 2:50:45 is making me laugh so hard its just sad music and technos like??? whys phil in my house drinking milk????? 

overall, fantastic stream, if ya want some chill techno philza content i highly recommend. 

[silverlightqueen]

Filter - Part 2

‘There are so many sides to him, it’s hard to keep track.’

fratboy/jock!Jimin x cheerleader!reader - e2l, smut, a n g s t, comedy, fluff 

Part of ficswithluv’s Bulletproof Bingo!

Rating: 18 (graphic sex and mature themes)

Word Count: 16.6k+ (she’s a monster omg I’m so sorry)

Warnings - bad language, humiliation (not during sex - he just embarrasses the hell out of her in public), alcohol, drug consumption, explicit discussion of sex, locker room sex, y/n being a brat again, jimin being a dick again (but worse,,,so much worse), dom!jimin, sub!y/n, teasing, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, tit fucking, tit slapping, Jimin’s monster cock makes a return, praise, explicit dirty talk, mild degradation, exhibitionism, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, standing sex, asphyxiation, y/n and jimin argue again (multiple times), Jimin is literally the worst human being on earth in this omg I’m sorry for making him terrible, somehow I ended up putting a comment on society and the patriarchy (?) at the end but we go with it, girl power! and if your kpop boy is in this, he’s trash (unless he’s Stray Kids Minho, the only male character in this that deserves rights)

a/n: unedited lol and this really didn’t go the way it was supposed to, but I don’t hate it so here ya go, enjoy! I think in this lockdown, I’ve really started to,,,,hate men and it shows in this fic so I’m sorry to any boys that might be reading this lmao. but anyway thank you to the loml @silverlightprincess​ for proofreading this, you’re the best hype girl ever, luv u xoxo (and I promise I’ll work on The Other Half for you and @brinnalaine​ ) lmk what you think of it, I legit thrive off praise lol x

Read Part 1 first !!!

also I got the banner off google so credit to whoever made it (it has no relevance to the story but it matches the colour scheme so we roll with it lmao)

silverlightqueen masterlist

‘Good afternoon, everyone, and thank you so much for coming. We really appreciate the turn-out, and we’re super excited to see your try-outs! Today is going to be quite simple; we’ll start by speaking to you one-by-one to see the range of movements that you can do. Not everyone on the squad has to be able to fly and tumble, so don’t be worried if you can’t do certain flips or jumps – we try to include people of all abilities as long as the raw talent is there, and you’ll be able to learn a lot if you make the squad. Once we’re aware of what you can do, we’ll group you into smaller groups and teach you a simple routine, a slightly different one for each group. We’ll watch you perform the routine as a group after some practice time, and then we’ll assess your Cheer ability one by one, just a couple flips and jumps and things like that. If you really would rather not do them by yourself, that’s okay. Just let one of the squad know, and we’ll pair you with someone else who feels the same. We understand that some of you may not feel confident enough to perform in front of everyone else by yourselves. And it’s okay if you don’t have much confidence, because that’s something we will work on and help you to improve if you make the squad. Does anybody have any questions?’

Dozens of hopeful faces smile back at me, not one hand rising to ask a question, and I smile back. I was nervous about my first time doing this, speaking in front of everyone as newly elected Cheer Captain, but having the rest of the squad behind me makes me feel better. ‘Okay, great. If you could get into four lines in front of each of the seats at the desk, we’ll get started!’ I say excitedly. Irene, Jisoo, Chen and Jihyo (the most responsible people on the squad) are sat behind the desk to write down what people are able to do, the others on the squad dotted around to help if anyone needs it, and all the people here to try-out head over to the desk. I take a moment to take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves, and I tilt my head back to feel the sun on my face. The weather’s lovely today, warm and sunny with a slight cool breeze, perfect for cheer try-outs, and the turf of the pitch is healthy and green, not yet ruined by the studs on the bottom of the players’ football boots (training doesn’t start ‘til next week).

‘y/n, relax, babe. Everything’s going well, you did a good job,’ Jennie says from behind me, putting a comforting hand on my shoulder, and I nod. ‘Yeah, I know. It’s just… being Cheer Captain, it’s big boots to fill.’ ‘I know, but you’ve got all of us helping you out. You know we’re all here to support you. Stop stressing yourself out,’ she says, and I turn to smile at her. ‘Thank you, Jen.’ ‘Don’t thank me, because now I’ve got bad news,’ she says, looking reluctant to speak, and I side-eye her. ‘What?’ ‘We have spectators.’ ‘We always have spectators.’ ‘That’s not what I meant,’ she says, turning me to look over to the bleachers which are a few metres away. And when I spot a group of ASP boys sat there, watching us and waving when I look over, my heart nearly stops. ‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding,’ I mutter, putting my hand up to shield my eyes from the sun and see them properly. And of course he’s there. Of course he is.

I haven’t seen him since a week ago today, when I ran out of his room while he was fast asleep and did the most talked about ‘Walk of Shame’ at school in the past year. All week, everyone’s been talking about me and Jimin, and somehow the rumours have spiralled out of control. My friends have reported back that they’ve heard that Hoseok and Namjoon joined us when they walked in on us, that I left before Jimin could finish, that I cried and begged him to let me cum (which my friends have denied on my part despite it being kinda true) and that I left wearing no underwear and flashed everyone on my way out. And that’s not even the worst of the rumours. I’ve tried not to comment on it when people have asked me, and it seems Jimin’s stayed quiet too – I’m sure it would’ve been hot news if he’d said anything.

I woke up the next morning aching, my entire body sore and weak (I really have no idea how I managed to leave the frat house on my feet – it must have been the adrenaline). My neck, jaw and chest were covered in purpling marks, some of them in the shape of his rings, and my waist and ass were covered in dark painful bruises from his tight grip and the endless spanking (the marks and bruises are all still there, by the way, fading but there – I had to cake the makeup on top of them this morning to cover them in my skimpy cheer kit). It hurt to sit down for too long, but it hurt to walk too, so I spent all of Sunday lying down, Jennie nursing me back to health (as she calls it – in reality, she just microwaved some soup for me, and we binge-watched Netflix in bed together). My body isn’t used to intense sex like that because not many university boys are as good at sex as Jimin is. I hate to admit it, but I’ve been zoning out all week (during lectures and seminars, when I was with my friends, at the gym, whilst studying or watching TV, when I was trying to fall in sleep, whilst showering, etc.) thinking back to mind. And I hate it – I hate him. I used to think of him with irritation and borderline rage, but now… the thought of him turns me on. It’s infuriating. I haven’t even gone over to get my stuff – not even my favourite bra (it was sexy and comfy, lacy with no underwire) – for fear of falling back under his stupid spell and getting into his bed again.

When my eyes meet his, it’s like he knows that I’m wet, a small smirk playing at his glossy lips as he runs a vascular hand through his jet-black locks, silver rings glinting in the sunlight. He looks fucking gorgeous, in a pair of loose black slacks and a loose orange shirt, a simple but flattering outfit, with his silver earrings, rings and bracelets. And the irritation inside me pushes down the arousal, and I turn away angrily, hearing their laughter over my shoulder as my eyes meet Jennie’s. ‘I can go speak to them if you want?’ she offers weakly, and I sigh. ‘There’s nothing we can say; they’re allowed to be here. We’re just gonna have to ignore them,’ I say, and she nods, throwing an arm over my shoulders and leading me towards the table.

I oversee the proceedings, making sure everything’s going well, my mind still elsewhere, but after a few minutes, the noise they’re making is unbearable. They’re loud – laughter and shouting echoing around the pitch – and it’s starting to distract the squad, and the people here to try-out. ‘Should I go tell them to shut up?’ Jennie asks, and I nod, reluctant to go over myself. She walks over, hands on her hips, and I know she’s gonna give them hell. But then I start to doubt that when I see them laughing and joking with her, before she comes back over, my expectant gaze being met by her sheepish one. ‘Well?’ I ask, and she winces. ‘They said they don’t take orders from me – only from… the Cheer Captain,’ she says slowly, and I let out a noise of irritation. Jimin being an annoying, difficult, stupid dickhead, I can understand. The others? I thought they were my friends. But obviously they find this whole situation more amusing than anything. It’s not funny for me – I slept with the guy I’m supposed to hate the most! The guy that I do hate the most.

‘I really don’t want to go over there,’ I admit, and Jennie’s eyes soften with sympathy. ‘You don’t have to, y/n, don’t feel pressured. We can cope with their noise – it’s fine, babe,’ she says reassuringly, but I feel guilty. I remember how nervous I was at try-outs, and having a group of rowdy frat boys laughing and shouting every few seconds definitely wouldn’t have helped. It’s up to me as Captain to create a comfortable environment, and with them around, this isn’t comfortable at all. I sigh, shaking my head, before I say, ‘I’ll go.’ ‘Are you sure?’ she asks, and I nod, dread building up inside me. ‘Want me to come with?’ ‘No, you just stay and keep an eye on things.’

I begin walking over, eyes fixed on the ground, and I can literally feel their eyes on me, their anticipation practically palpable. Everyone sat around the pitch is whispering, watching, desperate to see Jimin and I interact after all the rumours of the last week, and I can feel it all, making my nerves build up with every step. When I’m a few feet away from the bleachers, I look up, my eyes instantly meeting his, and I stop, staring at them for a moment. He’s endlessly amused, the smirk on his lips unbearably irritating. ‘Hey, y/n,’ he says easily, a ripple of laughter running around the group, and I don’t reply, matching his light gaze with a hard stare of my own. ‘This isn’t funny, guys, and I would’ve thought you’d know better. How do you think they’re gonna feel when they’re doing their routines and you morons are laughing? None of you can do what they’re doing, not in a million years, so don’t you dare come and sit here to rub my personal life in my face without even thinking of how rude and disruptive you’re being. You should be ashamed,’ I say neutrally, not letting any emotion into my voice, because if I do, I’ll lose my temper completely like I did last week and end up screaming at them. The other boys have the courtesy to look embarrassed of themselves, but Jimin just continues to smirk at me, running his thumb over his plump lips. My insides churn with anger at him being such a dick, but I don’t say a thing, waiting for one of them to reply. ‘Sorry, y/n. We didn’t think,’ Jin says, apologetic, and the others mutter apologies too, all except Jimin. ‘Don’t apologise. Just shut up,’ I reply before turning on my heel, walking away and ignoring the indiscernible whispers and stifled laughter.

‘Whatever you said, it definitely worked,’ Jennie says, and I nod curtly, still pissed off. ‘You okay?’ she asks, and my shoulders slump. ‘No. I’m supposed to be the Captain, I’m supposed to be nice and smiley and kind, and now I’m just angry, because of them, because of him,’ I sigh tiredly, and Jen looks at me sadly before putting an arm around my shoulders. ‘Don’t let them get you worked up, babe – today’s important, okay? Just focus on the try-outs,’ Jennie says, and I nod, trying my best to let my annoyance go, but it’s easier said than done. I wait impatiently for the first part of today to be done, desperate to have something to do so I can distract myself. And as soon as the last person has finished speaking to Jisoo, I call for everyone’s attention, telling them to start warming up. I sit down with Irene, Jisoo, Jihyo and Chen, and we quickly put people in similar-ability groups, based on the notes that the four of them have made whilst speaking to them; potential flyers, bases and spotters, and tumblers. The routines aren’t too different – just to test their dancing ability, and to see if they have the kind of body control needed for their different positions.

Once we’ve grouped them, Irene reads out the groups, the flyers with Lisa and Seulgi, bases and spotters with Kai, and tumblers with Momo, the rest of the squad supporting. I take a seat at the desk, making notes on people who catch my eye (they’re all wearing little name stickers, so I send Jennie over to find out their names). Jiwon, the pretty sophomore from last week, is really good – her dancing is great, and she’s light on her feet, the perfect flyer. I’m already certain she’ll make the team, because she’s super smiley and energetic too (I wave at her when I catch her eye, and she waves back excitedly, huge smile on her face). Watching them all learning the dances, making notes, evaluating them, it gets me in the zone. Focusing on this, I’m in my Captain mindset, having completely forgotten about the stupid disruption earlier. There’s definitely some potential here, and I have no doubt we’ll do really well at Nationals this year – I’ll be pissed if we don’t come first (and I’ll also be the first Captain in ten years that doesn’t lead us to victory, which is a pretty big deal).

Once they’ve learnt their dances, we split each group in half so there are less people to focus on, and they perform the dances to us. They’re all quite good – there’s a couple people who, bless them, will definitely not make the team, and I feel bad, but I have to be ruthless. It’s my job to make sure I give us the best chance at winning. We give them a little break after they’ve performed, and we all sit together to compare notes. We’ve pretty much all put the same people down, but we can’t make any final decisions until we watch them do their Cheer moves. ‘Okay, is everybody ready?’ I ask after getting their attention. ‘We’re going to have a look at your moves now. So they’re pretty basic, nothing too strenuous. Can someone show them what they’ve got to do?’ I say, turning to face the squad, and before anyone can speak, Kai says, ‘y/n, you should. You’re the captain after all.’ I return his mischievous grin with a hard stare, but the others all give various agreements, pushing me to show them. ‘I haven’t even warmed up,’ I mutter, everyone laughing.

‘Okay, we’ll start with a basic standing split. So, you just lift your leg, whichever your better leg is, and bring it right up like this, with your arm in front of it, and hold it there for a few seconds,’ I say, my left leg up against my body, my right arm holding my foot above my head. It’s a little painful because I haven’t warmed up, but I’ve done this move enough times that it’s pretty easy. I hear applause a little distance away, knowing it’s those stupid boys, and then everyone trying out starts clapping too, making me drop my leg and laugh embarrassedly. ‘Okay, thanks, guys, you can stop now,’ I say lightly, and everyone starts laughing. I show them all of the other moves – a full split, a pike jump, a toe touch jump, a hurdler jump, a front flip, a back flip and an aerial, getting applause for each movement, triggered by our idiot spectators. ‘So we’ll call you up one-by-one, unless you’ve asked us to go with someone else, and we’d like you to a show us a clasp, a high V, a T motion, and then go into the moves that you’re confident with. Show us your personality – we want bright and bubbly people on the squad, so don’t be afraid to chant or whatever, if you want to,’ I say as I take my seat behind the desk, Irene, Chen, Jihyo, Jisoo and Jennie sat with me, the rest of the squad sat around on the grass, enjoying the warmth and just watching the proceedings.

After a couple of people, it starts to get repetitive, but I remain focused, knowing I need to pay attention to differentiate between the good and the great. Jiwon is fantastic – she’s making the team without a doubt. Once they’re all done (nearly two hours later), I call them all over to sit beside the desk. ‘Thank you all so much for coming, and well done. What you did takes a lot of courage and you should all be so proud of yourselves, whether you make the squad or not. We’ve got your details from earlier, so we’ll be in contact within the next couple days to let you know if you made it. Thank you, and you are free to go,’ I smile, all of them letting out expressions of gratitude as they get up, heading to the bleachers to get their stuff and go. ‘Jiwon!’ I call, the girl turning to look. ‘Can I have a word?’ I say, the girl telling her friends to wait for her as she walks towards me. I head over to her, and we meet in the middle of the pitch, with no-one around. I don’t want anyone to hear and accuse me of favouritism.

‘Hey, y/n.’ ‘Hi, Jiwon. You did a really good job, definitely shone through. You’re fantastic,’ I say, and she smiles shyly. ‘Thank you. I have been cheering for a long time, though, so I did have an advantage,’ she says humbly, and I wave it off. ‘Don’t give me excuses – just accept the compliment. Anyway, I probably shouldn’t say this, but you caught a lot of our eyes, Jiwon. I’m pretty certain you’ll make the squad. First practice is next Saturday, 2 ‘til 4, and we’re just gonna do an introductory session, get to know one another and have a proper look at what everyone can do. Make sure you’re on time, and ready to try out some stunts. And work on your pike jump over the week – your fingers were literally millimetres away from your toes. A little practice, and you’ll have it perfect. And you were the teeniest bit wobbly in your standing split, so just work on your balance a little,’ I say, and she nods enthusiastically, taking in every word. Whilst I’m speaking, I notice Jimin approaching us, and Jiwon does too, looking flustered when she spots him. But she sees the way I ignore him completely, and does the same, just listening to me.

‘Thank you, y/n, I really appreciate it. Also, can I ask for your advice about something?’ she asks, and I nod, surprised she wants my advice. Jimin is now stood right beside us, but neither of us pay attention to his presence, keeping our eyes on each other. ‘What do you do to warm up for your splits? I warm up, but it’s always painful when I do them, and you did them really well, so I thought I’d ask.’ ‘I do a lot of yoga, actually, which really helps. We always get here around twenty minutes before practice, and the others do laps and things like that to warm up, but I do a bit of yoga, which helps loosen my body a lot. And then, just before I start a routine, I bend in half, and hold my head against my shins for like half a minute, to loosen my legs. It’s a little painful, but it gets your legs ready for the stretch that you feel when you’re in the splits,’ I say, and she listens eagerly to every word. His presence is starting to bother me, especially the way he’s completely silent, a stupid smirk on his face. ‘Thank you, y/n. I’m gonna head off now, but thanks for the advice. Are you going to KPN’s party tonight?’ she asks, and I sigh, thinking back to the text invite that Jackson from Kappa Phi Nu sent out a couple days ago. ‘I’m not sure. I was gonna just head to the gym for a late-night workout but Jennie’s trying to convince me to go,’ I explain, and she nods. ‘Well, I hope you do come. It’d be nice to see you there,’ she says, and I smile at her, touched. And then I lose my patience, turning to him with annoyance, and he grins, draping his arms around our waists.

‘My two favourite girls,’ he says with a grin, making me want to slap him, and we both push his arms off us in disgust, moving away from him slightly. ‘Look at you two. Best friends now, huh? If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even know each other, so I think a ‘thank you’ is in order,’ he says smugly, my eyes widening at him as Jiwon shoots him a dirty look. God, I love this girl. ‘Fuck you, Park,’ I say without thinking, and his eyes sparkle, mischief in his grin as he replies, ‘I already did, babe, keep up.’ And then he reaches into his back pocket, pulling his hand back out with something black and lacy hanging off his finger. My favourite bra. ‘Remember? You left this?’ ‘Park!’ I hiss, grabbing it from his hand and panicking for a moment, not sure where to put it (my cheer kit doesn’t have pockets) before I tuck it into his front pocket hastily. It’s too late, though, because everyone in the area who was watching saw it, laughter rippling around us. ‘I would’ve brought your pants too, but they were ripped, so I figured there was no point,’ he says, and I give him an angry stare, jaw hurting from how hard I’m clenching it. He just grins back, Jiwon looking between us for a few seconds before she says, ‘my friends are waiting for me, y/n, so I’m gonna go. I hope to see you later.’ ‘Okay, Jiwon. See you. Remember to work on your pike jump, and your standing splits. If you get here early, we can do some yoga together,’ I say, trying to push down the humiliation as the girl nods with a smile before she goes to join her friends who are watching us. Everyone’s watching us.

‘Your standing splits were good,’ he says, and I sigh, rolling my eyes. ‘I’m literally giving you a compliment!’ ‘I don’t care, you fucking dick.’ ‘Wow, never mind. I was gonna say that I could put your flexibility to good use, but forget it,’ he says, failing to hold back his grin, and I narrow my eyes at him. ‘Why the fuck did you come, Park? I thought I made it clear last week that I’m not interested in you,’ I say harshly, hurt momentarily appearing on his face before he masks it with a smirk, making me feel a little guilty. ‘We always come to watch try-outs. Entertainment for a couple hours. And it doesn’t hurt seeing you in this kit either,’ he says, taking the hem of my skirt into his hand, fingers momentarily skimming against my thigh, and I slap his hand away, feeling exposed in my kit all of a sudden. It’s quite revealing – a short blue skirt with a white border and a long-sleeved blue cropped top with shoulder cut-outs, with our school name written across the chest in white. It’s super cute though, even more so with the white pumps and frilly white ankle socks, and the blue and white bows on our ponytails. The boys wear the same colour scheme, blue and white t-shirts and shorts.

‘I swear to God, Park, I’m not in the mood for your bullshit today,’ I say tiredly, and he pouts, eyes still sparkling with amusement. ‘You were last week.’ ‘Things change. You can go now,’ I say pointedly, and he grins, taking a step closer to me, so close I can see every flaw on his face that he doesn’t have, and places a gentle hand on my waist. ‘I’ll go, but one last thing. I’ve gotta go drop my shit off in the changing rooms – Coach said we all have to, ready for next week – and I’ll wait in there for… hmm, shall I be nice? Okay, ten minutes. If I know you as well as I think I do, you’ve been thinking about me, and what happened last Saturday, all week long. I have. And I want a round two. I’ll wait for ten minutes,’ he says, voice low and face serious, before his whole demeanour changes, smile stretching his lips, hand falling from my waist as he takes a step back. My lips are parted and face warm, eyes locked with his, and my obviously affected appearance makes him let out a chuckle. ‘Ten minutes, angel. If not, I’ll see you tonight, at KPN, and you can get your bra from me there instead,’ he says with a smile, before turning and walking away, leaving me slightly stunned.

‘Close your mouth, babe, you’ll catch flies,’ Jennie says drily, and I turn to look at her, trying to compose myself. ‘He just asked me for a round two in the changing rooms,’ I whisper, and she gasps loudly, catching the attention of everyone around us. ‘Shut up!’ I hiss, and she claps a hand over her mouth. ‘Sorry, sorry. I’m just… shook. Are you gonna go?’ she asks, and I hesitate to answer, his dark eyes in my mind, my underwear embarrassingly damp. ‘I don’t know.’ ‘Bitch, stop kidding yourself – you want to, so just go,’ she says, but before I can reply, Kai joins us. ‘Um, y/n, there are a couple people waiting to ask you some questions,’ he says, and I sigh, looking over his shoulder to see some people hovering. I quickly rush over to them, listening to their questions (which are so unnecessary, might I add? Why do you need to know where to get the uniform from, or the date of Nationals this year, if you’re not even on the squad yet?) and answer them as quickly as I can, trying to be polite, but impatient, worried that my ten minutes will run out.

As soon as the last person’s done, Jennie grabs my arm and whispers, ‘it’s been nine minutes. I’ll pack stuff up, you just go.’ ‘Thank you, you’re the best,’ I whisper back. I rush off, speed walking across the pitch before someone can stop me, in the direction of the changing rooms. When I reach the door, I push it open slowly, listening out for any voices. And then I wonder – is this a prank? Is this payback for me leaving him last week? Are they all gonna be waiting there to jump out and laugh at me? But, no. He wouldn’t. Surely, he wouldn’t stoop that low? ‘Jimin?’ I whisper, hearing nothing back, and I venture in. ‘Jimin?’ I say a little louder, walking down the main aisle slowly, looking between the rows of lockers on either side of me. I call his name again, and when I reach the end of the lockers, stepping out into the open changing area, a wooden bench running around the walls, I feel a pair of hands push me up against the last locker, the metal clang echoing loudly around the room as I try to get my bearings, blinking to see Jimin stood in front of me, his body pressed up against mine.

‘You took eleven minutes, you fucking tease,’ he whispers, hand appearing at my throat and tightening instantly, my mind momentarily thinking back to last week, when he left bruises the shape of his rings around my neck. ‘Didn’t mean to. Got held up,’ I breathe out, and he pushes my head back at an unnatural angle, his dark eyes, blown wide with desire, locking with my own. ‘How can I believe you, after you left last week?’ he spits out, and I feel my stomach turn; I didn’t think he’d be that bothered, but it’s obvious he’s angry that I left him. ‘Never said I’d stay,’ I reply, with a small grin, and he growls angrily, pushing up against me even harder. ‘You’re the first girl that’s ever left without me telling her to. Trying to play me at my own game?’ he asks, amusement creeping into his voice, but he’s mainly angry, veins corded tight and body tense, fist curled and jaw clenched. ‘No. I just don’t like you,’ I reply, voice strained because of his hand tight at my neck, head beginning to go dizzy, and he lets out a humourless laugh.

‘Sure. Of course you don’t. Let’s see how much you don’t like me,’ he says, free hand pushing one of my legs out wider, so he has space to put his hand up my skirt. His finger slides beneath my tight safety shorts, and he lets out a laugh when he feels how wet my underwear is, making me look away from him in embarrassment. ‘Look at me,’ he demands, my eyes flitting back to his as he pushes my pants out of the way, swiping a finger along my dripping wet slit. I let out a shaky breath, and he chuckles. ‘I think you’re lying to me, angel. I think you actually do like me. A lot,’ he grins as he pulls his hand from my skirt, lifting his finger, glistening with my arousal, to my mouth. I keep my lips pressed shut, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘Don’t make me punish you. This isn’t a repeat of last week – there’s other things I want to do to you,’ he says lowly, a thrill running through me, but I’m still as stubborn as last week. ‘I’m not here for a round two. I’m here for my bra,’ I exhale, and he rolls his eyes with a little laugh, his hand tightening at my neck. ‘You can earn it.’ ‘What is it… with you stealing my… things?’ ‘I didn’t steal anything. You left your bra when you did your little walk of shame. So it’s mine now – it’s been in my room for a week, with your tight jeans and your pretty top and those cute heels, and that little bag, with your keys and lip-gloss and pads in it. And because it’s all mine, I want you to earn it back,’ he replies before leaning down and pressing his lips to my ear, his beautiful scent flooding my senses.

‘Let me fuck your tits,’ he whispers, making my stomach clench with the thought of it, before he pulls back from me, searching my face for any kind of reaction. ‘And they say romance is dead,’ I whisper dryly, and he laughs, a startled laugh, as though he wasn’t expecting a joke from me. It makes my heart flutter a little, which then makes me want to slap myself. ‘Is that a yes?’ he asks with a mischievous grin. ‘No. It isn’t,’ I reply, and he sighs before letting go of me. ‘Fine. Let’s just talk then, if you don’t wanna fuck,’ he says neutrally, sitting down on the bench opposite me, and I’m disarmed at his sudden 180. ‘Sit down, y/n,’ he says, motioning to the bench and, for once, I listen to him, sitting down. He leans back against the wall and runs a hand through his hair, legs spread, thick thighs on display. Last week, the lighting from his bedroom lamp was low and sultry, but the lighting in here is bright and cold, and he still looks fucking gorgeous.

‘Who did you tell?’ he asks, and I know he’s asking what I’ve been wondering all week – who actually knows the full story. ‘Who did you tell?’ I ask, purposely being difficult, and he rolls his eyes, grin pulling at his lips. ‘Hobi and Tae are the only ones that know the full story. Jin, Yoongi, Joon and Kook know vaguely. Now tell me who you told,’ he says, and I’m surprised he’s kept it only to his closest friends – I thought for sure the whole frat would know. ‘y/n. Who did you tell?’ Nayeon, Lisa, Mina, Irene, Dahyun, Yeri, Jeongyeon, Seulgi, Sana, Jisoo, Chaeyoung, Joy, Momo, Wendy, Jihyo, Tzuyu and- ‘Jennie.’ ‘That’s it? Just Jennie?’ ‘And.. a couple of the other girls.’ He raises an eyebrow, obviously not believing me. ‘Did you tell them everything?’ ‘Only Jennie knows about me leaving when you… wanted me not to,’ I say, and he nods, looking a little embarrassed, and I feel so guilty, but I had to. ‘Why did you do it?’ he asks quietly, and I take a deep breath, closing my eyes for a moment. ‘Because… we’re supposed to hate each other, and we had sex, Jimin. I couldn’t share a bed with you after that, I just… couldn’t.’ ‘Would it really be so bad if we didn’t hate each other?’ he asks, and I sigh, not wanting him to ask these questions, not wanting him to entertain this possibility. Because Jimin’s the type of boy to want what he can’t have, and as soon as I let him have me, more than just physically, he won’t want me anymore.

I get up and walk over to him, his eyes on me, and when I’m stood right in front of him, in between his legs, I drop to my knees. ‘y/n,’ he says slowly, as though he wants me to wait, but I can’t talk about this right now. ‘Shut up,’ I say before pulling my top over my head and throwing it behind me, leaving me in my bra. He’s quickly distracted, eyes lost in my chest, and I can see the bulge in his jeans growing already. I lift a hand to his crotch, palming him over his jeans, and his head falls back, a little moan falling from his lips. ‘Please, y/n, don’t tease,’ he breathes out, and I clench involuntarily at getting him like this. ‘Take your jeans off,’ I whisper, and he quickly unbuttons and unzips them, holding himself up from the bench and pushing them down with his underwear, just enough to free his cock. He’s only half-hard, but he’s already big, girthy and long, making me lick my lips at the sight of him. He tugs on his length a couple times to get himself fully hard, letting out little grunts, and I feel more arousal dampen my underwear. After a few seconds, I push his hands away, taking his length into my hands, and he shuffles forwards on the bench, giving me proper access to his cock.

I collect my saliva up on my tongue and spit at his dick, the saliva landing on his tip and slowly dripping down his length. I use my hand to spread it out before I take his swollen head into my mouth, kitten licking the tip before swirling my tongue around him. He pulls my bow out of my hair and grabs my ponytail, but restrains himself from trying to control my movements, letting me take my time with him. I don’t wait long before I’m taking him as far into my mouth as possible, before slowly bobbing my head up and down his length. ‘God, angel, your mouth is so fucking good. So good for me, such a dirty girl,’ he praises, head back against the wall but eyes on me, and when I look up at him through my lashes, he grins down at me. I hollow out my cheeks, trying to get my lips around the base of his cock, but my jaw is already hurting from my mouth being around his thick length. ‘Get me all the way in, baby, I know you can,’ he prompts, and I try my hardest, gagging around him, and it’s so fucking messy, saliva around my mouth and dripping down my chin. He decided to help, pushing my head even further down, and when my nose hits his skin, his abdomen contracts, a heavenly moan of my name falling from his lips.

Once I deem his cock sufficiently wet, I remove him from my mouth and reach behind me to unclasp my sports bra, pulling it off, feeling satisfied when his eyes are locked on my breasts. ‘Stand up,’ I say, and he does so, quickly, moving aside to let me sit on the bench. I perch on the edge, knees together, and Jimin stands in front of me, one leg on either side of mine. ‘Push your tits together for me, angel,’ he says, and I do so, the boy moving even closer to me. I feel his head against the bottom of my breasts, wet and hard, before slowly pushing up, breath catching in his throat as he goes as far as he can, his pink tip emerging through my cleavage. ‘Fuck, that feels good. Hold them tighter, babe,’ he says, and it starts to hurt when I do so, but the pleasure on his face as he thrusts, fucking my tits aggressively, more than makes up for it. I spit down into the valley of my breasts, for better lubrication, and he lets out a moan, thrusting even harder. And then he lifts a hand, landing a slap on one of my breasts. ‘Um, ow,’ I say, and he lets out a little chuckle, his thrusting not faltering for a moment. ‘So soft. Best tits I’ve ever seen,’ he says, landing a slap on the other, and I stop myself from slapping his balls because I don’t want to kill his vibe. And he’d probably enjoy it, the kinky bastard. I look down to see precum leaking from his tip, and I lean down, meeting one of his thrusts with my tongue, licking his precum, and he lets out a moan. ‘God, yes, baby. So good for me,’ he grunts, before his thrusts start to slow, until he eventually moves away from me.

‘Love your tits, angel, but I wanna cum in you instead,’ he says, grabbing my hand and pulling me up from the bench. ‘Put your clothes back on,’ he says, my eyes widening in confusion. ‘What? Why?’ ‘Because I’ve always wanted to fuck you while you’re wearing your cheer kit. Hurry up and put it on before I decide to leave,’ he says pointedly, and I feel guilt surge through me as I grab my bra from the floor, pulling it back on, and turning around for him to clasp it for me. He does so, taking ages (it seems he’s better at taking bras off than putting them on), and then I pull my top back over my head. As soon as I’m redressed, he pushes me up against the nearest locker, winding me, before his hand strays down to beneath my skirt. ‘You gonna take these booty shorts off before I rip them off you?’ he says, plump lips against my neck, and I push him off, quickly pulling off my safety shorts (these are the only pair I have at the moment – I ordered a pair online and they’re due in a couple weeks – so I really don’t need him ripping them). ‘They’re safety shorts, not booty shorts,’ I mutter, as I kick them off, and he doesn’t waste any time in pushing me up against the lockers again. He presses his lips to mine in a tame kiss (he doesn’t even use his tongue), mouths moving together for a few seconds before he pulls away, sinking to his knees.

‘You’ve been on your knees for me twice now, baby, so I think it’s time I repaid the favour. And I believe I promised to eat your pussy with my… pretty lips,’ he says, quoting my words from last week, and my stomach turns as he grabs the front of my underwear. He violently pulls at them, tearing them away from my body, and I refrain from kneeing him in the face for ruining a second pair of pants. He pushes my legs apart before pulling one over his shoulder, his face inches from where I need him. ‘Jimin… please,’ I whine, and he chuckles, expelling warm air across my dripping wet core, making me shudder. ‘See, baby, you’re being so good for me today, saying my name, and begging like a good girl. And good girls don’t get punished, don’t get spanked until their ass is raw. Good girls get rewarded,’ he says before his head disappears beneath my skirt and I feel him lick a slow bold stripe across my slit, my hips jerking at the feeling, pushing my core closer to his face. He swirls his tongue around my clit, and I let out a whimper of his name, making him chuckle as he grabs onto my waist to hold me in place. ‘So fucking sweet, angel. Best pussy I’ve ever tasted. Could eat you all day.’ He laps at me like there’s no tomorrow, my hands gripping onto his strong shoulders and head thrown back against the lockers. He brings his fingers to my clit, rubbing slow circles, at the stimulation at my bundle of nerves paired with his long, quick licks have me moaning out his name, my stomach already tightening with the threat of an orgasm.

And then he pushes a finger between my folds, pumping in and out of me as I clench around him. ‘Gotta stretch you out for my fat cock, baby, take it like a good girl. Stop clenching, babe,’ he murmurs soothingly against my inner thigh, his thick finger quickly being joined by another. ‘Ah, Jimin, feels so fucking good,’ I moan out, and he hums in response before attaching his lips to my clit, sucking at the bundle of nerves before adding another finger, three thick digits stretching me out. ‘Such a good little slut for me, angel. You take my fingers so fucking well,’ he says, lips still against my clit, and I feel my high nearing quickly, moans and whimpers escaping from my lips every few seconds. He’s so good with his mouth, his plump lips wrapping around my clit and sucking harshly, before he licks along my folds, fingers still pumping into me, curling against my spongy spot every few seconds, bringing me closer and closer to the edge. And he knows it, the pace of his fingers ever increasing, his lips and tongue attacking my core with passion.

And then we hear the door of the changing room open, followed by a group of loud male voices, laughing and joking. Before I can even register it, Jimin’s on his feet, scooping me into his arms and practically sprinting into the shower area, rushing into one of the cubicles. He puts me down carefully, a hand over my mouth, and I feel my orgasm fading away because of the fear of being caught by his teammates. And in my mind, the logical thing to do is to be silent and wait for them to leave, right? But Jimin isn’t logical, and he pushes me up against the brick wall, pumping his cock in his free hand. He removes his hand from my mouth, tapping my left leg before tapping his shoulder, and I get the message, putting my leg up over his shoulder, despite thinking that this is a terrible idea. And then he puts his hand back over my mouth before slowly sliding into me, his huge cock stretching me out painfully, filling me up completely, and it takes every ounce of my self-control not to moan out his name, my head falling back against the wall with a dull thud. ‘What was that?’ I hear one of the boys say, the others asking what he’s talking about, and I feel panic fill me. But along with the panic is arousal at the idea of being caught, my pussy gushing around him, and he smirks, slowly thrusting into me, the curve of his dick allowing him to hit my g-spot (I’m certain Megan wrote Captain Hook about him).

I hear footsteps nearing us, before they stop abruptly. ‘Oh, my God,’ I hear a voice say quietly, before more footsteps can be heard. ‘What?’ ‘Look.’ ‘Whoa. Is that…?’ ‘Yes. One of the cheerleader’s bows.’ Panic strikes through me, and Jimin just grins, continuing to fuck me slowly, making me feel every inch of him. ‘And those are the shorts they wear, right?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘And are those… pants?’ ‘Yep. And they look ripped.’ ‘Is someone fucking in here?’ ‘No, we’d be able to hear them. They’re probably gone.’ ‘You think?’ ‘Yes. And I don’t wanna double check. Let’s just go.’ I feel my fear ebbing away as the footsteps get quieter before the door opens and closes. We’re both silent for a few moments, just to make sure they’re gone, before Jimin pulls all the way out of me, slamming back in. I let out a loud moan against his hand, which he moves to rest at the base of my throat, cock hammering into me ruthlessly. ‘Look how wet you are for me, baby. My little bitch likes the idea of getting caught with a fat cock inside her, huh? Does the idea of being walked in on turn you on, babe?’ he asks, and all I can do is nod, moans falling from my lips every few seconds as he slams into me, the drag of his cock against my walls making me weak.

‘Taking me so well, angel, letting me fill you up and stretch you out so good, baby,’ he praises, voice strained with effort, as he pounds into me, my mind completely blank of anything, of everything but him. I feel my orgasm nearing, my walls clenching around him, but that doesn’t stop him plunging into me, hard, his balls slapping up against my ass, one hand gripping onto his shoulder whilst the other is splayed against the cold wall. My leg is beginning to hurt being up against his shoulder, especially because all my body weight is resting on the toes of my other foot (I can’t get my whole foot on the floor), but he seems to be enjoying it, able to go deep into me at this angle, his tip hitting my cervix. ‘Look how flexible you are, baby, stretching for me like a good little whore. Gonna put your flexibility to good use all the time, babe – I’ll help keep you in shape for Cheer,’ he promises, fingers straying to my clit as he speaks. And then I feel him twitching inside me. ‘Are you close?’ I ask, and he nods, eyes fluttering shut, and I reach down to cup his balls, trying to push him over the edge. ‘Ah, fuck, feels good, y/n, your pussy’s so fucking good. Gonna cum, gonna fill you up like a good little slut,’ he breathes out, and I tighten around him, his head falling back as he lets out a loud moan of my name, hot cum shooting out of his cock, painting my walls. He continues thrusting, hips stuttering as he works himself through his orgasm, and I stay clenched around him to prolong his high.

Once he’s done, he pulls out, and puts me down carefully, taking a moment to get his breath back before tucking his softening cock into his underwear, zipping himself back up. He looks up at me with a grin, his hair messy, face still glistening with my arousal, eyes dark. ‘Good talk,’ he grins before turning and walking away. ‘Um, Jimin?’ I call after him, stepping out of the cubicle with shaky legs. ‘Yes, y/n?’ he asks, turning to look at me, eyes sparkling with mirth. ‘I didn’t…’ I trail off, unsure of what to say. ‘What? You didn’t cum?’ he asks, and I nod, my stomach twisting with hurt when he smirks and says, ‘I know, angel. Only good girls get to cum. And good girls don’t leave in the middle of the night after being asked to stay.’ My mouth drops open at the thought that he’s not going to make me cum, and he grins even wider, before taking a little pity on me. ‘I’ll tell you what, baby. Come to KPN tonight and come find me, and I’ll make you cum as many times as you want,’ he says, but I’m still furious. ‘You’re not being serious?’ ‘Deadly.’ ‘Jimin, please,’ I say, and he just grins back at me. ‘You might wanna clean yourself up. Got my cum dripping down your leg,’ he says, and I look down to see his thick white release slowly trailing down my skin. I curse under my breath, and when I look back up, Jimin’s already out of sight, whistling a merry tune, before I hear the changing room door open and close behind him. And when I slowly walk towards the lockers, I realise my bow, safety shorts and ripped pants are gone too. And he still hasn’t given me back my favourite bra.

I head over to the sinks to clean myself up, cursing at him the entire time. ‘Fucking bastard, and his stupidly big fat fucking cock, stealing all my stuff and leaving me high and dry with his fucking cum dripping down my fucking leg. Didn’t even give me any fucking aftercare, fucking dick,’ I rant angrily as I take my hair out of its messy ponytail, running my fingers through it. Luckily, I haven’t sweated off any of my makeup, the fading marks from last week fully covered, but it’s still clear I’ve just been fucked. And the fact that I don’t have anything on under my skirt isn’t helpful at all – thank God it isn’t windy today because otherwise, I’ll be flashing everyone. Once I’ve deemed myself okay to leave, I push open the changing room doors, looking side to side to make sure no one’s around before I slip out of the door, quickly making my way to mine and Jennie’s accommodation, trying to ignore how desperate I am for a release right now. And not just any release – one on Jimin’s cock. But that’ll have to wait for later – I’ve got a party to get ready for.

‘Jennie! y/n!’ Yeri exclaims when we walk into the kitchen through the back door, throwing her arms around us in a hug. ‘Hey, Yeri,’ we reply, hugging her back, and when she moves away, her eyes widen. ‘Jen, you look good, but y/n! You look good, girl!’ she exclaims. ‘Oh, thanks, Yeri,’ Jennie says sarcastically, but she doesn’t mean it – Jennie always opts for comfort over fashion at frat parties, usually wearing mom jeans, or a loose t-shirt dress (which she rocks by the way – no one pulls off the casual aesthetic like Jennie). And I never dress up too much, sticking to a simple outfit and dressing it up with heels and jewellery. But today, I decided to go all out, dressing to impress in a tight little black dress, hem around my upper thighs, ruched with a bardot neck (I had to forgo a bra, and used tit tape instead to make sure they don’t sag). I’m in a pair of black sparkly heels, much higher than last week’s, with a silver choker, silver hoops and a thin silver bracelet. Jennie has on a shoulder bag, big enough to fit my things in it, so I didn’t bother with a bag, my phone in my hand and my lipgloss, oil blotting sheets and keys in Jennie’s bag. ‘Thanks, Yeri. But look at you! This top is so cute!’

We greet all our friends, Jeongyeon pushing cups into mine and Jennie’s hands (I’m not sure what it is but it tastes nice), before I take a seat between Tzuyu and Lisa at the kitchen island, instantly getting into a conversation about Cheer. KPN parties are always really laidback – people wear whatever they want, drink whatever they want, and I never feel uncomfortable here, or pressured to act a certain way. I can just be myself, and enjoy the night with my friends. ASP’s the opposite in the sense that there’s always pressure – to look good, to end the night with someone, to give everyone something to gossip about.

‘y/n! You came!’ Jackson exclaims when he sees me, pulling me into an expensive smelling hug. ‘Hey, Jackson!’ ‘I was about to make a comment about how late you are, but you look really good, so I’ll let you off,’ he grins, and I roll my eyes. ‘Since when do you have to arrive to parties at a certain time?’ ‘You wouldn’t know, y/n, you’re always fashionably late,’ Tzuyu teases, and I cover my face with embarrassment – never have I arrived at a party before my friends (there’s just something about being there before the party has properly started that makes me want to cringe). ‘Anyway, what are you ladies drinking?’ ‘Diet Coke,’ Tzuyu says as she holds her cup up, Lisa drinking the same. ‘I’m drinking whatever the hell this is – Jeongyeon gave it to me,’ I say, and Jackson takes the cup, sipping from it, before his eyes widen. ‘Yo, this shit slaps. Where’s Jeongyeon? I want some,’ he says, turning away in search of her, and I call after him, ‘get me some more too, please!’

‘So… y/n,’ Lisa says with a knowing grin, making me raise an eyebrow at her. ‘Yes?’ I ask, she and Tzuyu exchanging an amused glance. ‘This dress is nice,’ Tzuyu says with the same knowing look as Lisa, and I look between them suspiciously. ‘Thanks,’ I say slowly, their smiles widening even more. ‘Who are you dressing to impress?’ Lisa asks, and I realise where this conversation is going, letting out a laugh. ‘Ah, you two. Can a girl not dress for herself?’ I grin, both of them raising their eyebrows. ‘Of course. But the timing’s a little suspicious. Not hoping for a round two, are we?’ Tzuyu asks, and I bite my lip embarrassedly. ‘What if we already had round two?’ I say quietly, both of their mouths falling open. ‘What?’ Lisa exclaims, drawing the attention of those around us, and I shut my eyes despairingly. ‘Keep your voice down, stupid!’ Tzuyu exclaims, Lisa murmuring an apology, still looking at me with wide eyes. ‘When?’ ‘Earlier, after practice. I met him in their changing rooms,’ I say, both of them looking even more shocked with each word. ‘Oh, my God! You two are, like, stuck in your own little forbidden and scandalous romance!’ Lisa whispers, and I shoot her a hard look. ‘It’s not a romance. He’s still, like, the most annoying and stupid person I’ve ever met. I mean, he literally left without making me cum, on purpose. He said if I showed up here tonight, he’d make it up to me,’ I whisper, both of them gasping quietly. ‘No way!’ Tzuyu says, and I nod. ‘So you’re gonna have a round three?’ Lisa asks, and I shrug. ‘I’m actually not sure. I don’t know whether I came so that I could leave with him, or so that I could piss him off by getting with someone else,’ I say, both of their eyes lighting up. ‘Get with someone else,’ they chorus, and I let out a gentle laugh.

Before I can reply, Jackson reappears with two cups in hand. ‘It’s Fireball Whisky with cream soda,’ he says, and I blink in surprise, not sure whether to be impressed or disgusted at Jeongyeon’s weird concoction. He takes the empty cup from my hand and hands me a new one, and I thank him as I take a sip. It really is good, and I know I need to be careful not to drink too much – I’ll forget just how strong whisky is and then find myself hunched over the toilet in a few hours, vomiting it all back up. ‘Are you guys gonna just sit here and chat all night? This is a party! We’re supposed to be having a good time,’ Jackson says, and I exchange a glance with the girls. ‘We are having a good time,’ Tzuyu replies mildly, and Jackson rolls his eyes. ‘So you’re not gonna come dance?’ he asks, and we all shake our heads. As much as I do love getting lit, it’s nice to just have a gossip with the girls sometimes. ‘Maybe later,’ I say, and he frowns, shaking his head. ‘You guys are boring.’ ‘Go find Joy, she’ll dance with you,’ Tzuyu suggests, and Lisa nods before adding, ‘and Dahyun. Come find us in a couple hours, and then we’ll dance with you too.’

Jackson quickly disappears, calling out for Joy and Dahyun, and the spot where he was stood is quickly occupied by a boy who I recognise as Chan, one of the boys on the team and a KPN brother. ‘Hi, Chan,’ Tzuyu says, the boy giving us a smile. ‘Hi, guys. You’re all cheerleaders, right?’ he asks, and we nod, confused as to where he’s going with this. ‘Do you wear these, like… little black shorts under your cheer outfits? Like super small, tight, black shorts?’ he asks, and I realise, dread flooding through me as we all nod. ‘They’re called safety shorts,’ Lisa says, and Chan nods. ‘I thought so. We saw a pair earlier, in the changing rooms, with one of the bows you guys wear, and some… underwear. Ripped. So I was just… curious, I guess,’ he says, Tzuyu and Lisa both turning their gazes to me. ‘Um… Chan, I’d be really grateful if you didn’t mention that to anyone,’ I say embarrassedly, the girls stifling laughs as Chan’s face falls with shock. ‘Oh! They were yours?’ he asks, and I nod, totally humiliated. ‘Who was, um, with you when you came in? There was just a couple of you, right?’ I ask, and he winces. ‘There were a few of us, actually. But it’s fine, I’ll tell them not to mention it to anyone. Your secret’s safe with us, y/n,’ he says with a grin, and I give him a weak smile. ‘Thanks, Chan.’ ‘No problem. Before I never mention it again, I just have one question,’ he says tentatively, and I close my eyes briefly, nodding as I brace myself. ‘Were you… in there when we went in?’ he asks, and I take a deep breath before nodding, his eyes widening. ‘In the shower cubicles, right?’ ‘Yep.’ ‘I thought I heard a banging noise,’ he says, and the girls burst out laughing. ‘No, no, it’s because I hit my head on the wall,’ I explain over their laughter, even more embarrassed now. ‘Sorry,’ Chan says, and I wave it off. ‘It’s fine, it’s my own fault for fucking in a public place,’ I say bluntly, and he lets out a gentle laugh.

The girls are still laughing when Chan leaves with the promise of never mentioning it again, and I shoot them dirty looks. ‘Are you gonna stop laughing any time soon or should I just go?’ I ask venomously, and their laughter gets even louder, making me roll my eyes. ‘Fine. I’m going,’ I say, pushing myself off my seat and leaving with my phone and drink in my hands, their laughter continuing behind me. I decide to venture into the living room, but regret my decision the second I walk in and lock eyes with Hyunjin – Chan’s whispering something to him, and he bites down on his lip when he sees me, obviously holding back a laugh at the irony of seeing me as Chan fills him in. I turn on my heel, instantly heading back into the kitchen and ignoring Hyunjin’s loud laughter behind me. But when my eyes meet Lisa’s and she bursts out laughing again, Tzuyu laughing too, I make a decision – I want to go home. I know none of them mean anything by it but it’s really… getting to me. I don’t like that nearly every conversation I’ve had in the last week has come back to Jimin – in fact, I hate it. I’m more than my sexual escapades, whether or not they’re with my worst enemy. I came here to have a good time with my friends tonight – not to speak about my sex life.

‘Mark,’ I say, catching the boy beside me offguard. ‘Oh, hey, y/n. You okay?’ he asks, and I nod. ‘I’m great. You?’ ‘I’m good, thanks. What’s up? You look… stressed.’ ‘I’m okay, I just… have you seen Jennie?’ I ask, and he nods, taking me by surprise. ‘I saw her go out the back door a couple minutes ago, with Seulgi and Nayeon,’ he says, and I grin at him. ‘Thank you, Mark, you’re the best!’ I exclaim, not giving him a second to reply before I quickly head towards the back door, ducking through the doorway before anyone else can speak to me. There’s a group of boys stood near the door, passing around a joint, and I quickly head past them, eyes skimming over the surroundings to see if the girls are here. I spot their three dark heads close together, looking at something on Seulgi’s phone, and I rush over. Nayeon spots me first, concern on her face as she watches me head towards them. ‘What’s the matter, y/n?’ she asks, the other two girls looking up at hearing my name. ‘I… I’m gonna leave,’ I say, all three of them looking at me in surprise – you usually have to drag me away from a party. ‘Why? You look hot, girl! You can’t waste this look!’ Seulgi exclaims, throwing an arm around my shoulders, and I give her a grateful smile. ‘Thanks, Seulgi, but I just… I’m fed up of being teased about Jimin. Maybe it’s God punishing me for sleeping with him, but for fuck’s sake, isn’t him being an idiot punishment enough? I don’t need everyone bringing it up every two fucking seconds,’ I complain, the three of them exchanging amused glances.

‘Oh, babe, it sucks, but you’ve gotta be thick skinned. You have to remember that you have publicly hated him for as long as we’ve all known you, pretty much. The fact that you’ve slept with him is, like, a big deal. It’s hot gossip. Of course people are gonna want to talk about it, and you are gonna get teased. You can’t let it get to you, or people will do it even more,’ Jennie says rationally, and I know she’s right, but I still don’t want to accept it, pouting. ‘I know, you’re right, but I’m already in a bad mood now, and I just wanna go home,’ I say, and I know I’m being immature, but I don’t care. I notice Nayeon’s eyes wander from me to over my shoulder and then she says, ‘well, someone’s coming over, and I don’t whether he’s going to make your mood better or worse.’ I sigh, wanting to cry, and I can feel Seulgi holding back a laugh. ‘Shall I tell him to fuck off?’ Jennie asks, and I shake my head – I don’t have the energy to fight with him today.

‘y/n,’ I hear his stupid voice say, before he appears beside me. He’s dressed in all black, tight ripped jeans and a black button-up shirt, the top two buttons undone and revealing tanned and freckled skin, with a leather jacket over the top of it. He’s wearing silver jewellery again, rings, earrings, bracelets and a necklace, and he looks really fucking handsome, like always. He looks me up and down, his eyes nearly falling out of his head at my appearance as he sweeps his black hair back with one hand, before he looks at my face, the shock being replaced with concern. ‘You okay?’ he asks, and him caring about me makes me want to run a mile – he’s supposed to hate me, not worry when I’m upset and annoyed. ‘I… don’t know,’ I say tiredly, not quite sure what to say, and he looks even more concerned at that. ‘Shall we… give you guys a minute?’ Jennie says, and I look at her in surprise. She just looks back at me with a sad smile, and then I realise; she’s knows that there’s more to this, to me and… Jimin, than just two people who fucked even though they hate each other. And so do I, the thought terrifying me. His feelings are involved, and maybe mine are too, and I already know this is gonna get messy, messier than it should. But I don’t really have it in me to put a stop to it right now. I think I must have hurt him a lot when I left him last week (the thought of him waking up to an empty bed when he thought I would be there beside him makes me feel sick to my stomach) and I don’t ever want to hurt someone like that again. Even if it that someone is Jimin, the most annoying, stupid, selfish, egotistic, infuriating, big-headed person to ever walk the Earth.

I stay silent, and Jimin takes that as a sign to nod at the girls, all of them giving me little hugs before they head back up towards the house. The few people that are outside are watching interestedly and I want to just tell them to all fuck off. I used to think I’d love being the centre of attention all the time, but I’ve definitely changed my mind. ‘What’s the matter, y/n?’ he asks gently, and I sigh, not meeting his eyes as I think, not sure what to tell him. He stays quiet as he waits for me to speak, which leaves us in a heavy silence. ‘I… I’m just fed up. All anyone’s been speaking to me about is you and I don’t like it because there’s more to talk about to me than my sex life, and I hate that people are always staring at me now and probably thinking all these things about me when they barely know me and everyone’s making me regret sleeping with you but I don’t want to regret it because it was good and I enjoyed it and it was with you, but I don’t know why that’s making me not regret it but I kind of do know because I don’t think that I see you the same as I used to anymore, which is something else I hate because I’m supposed to hate you, and I do but I also don’t think I do, and I’m so confused, and I just want to go home,’ I say miserably all in one breath, and he looks a little taken aback, but nods when I’m finished speaking. ‘I… I’ve been thinking a lot of the same things the last week, and I’m confused too. So if it’s any consolation, I know how you feel,’ he says, and somehow… it is consolation. I already knew his feelings towards me had changed, but hearing that he feels all the other stuff too, it does make me feel better. But I’m a stubborn bitch.

‘No, actually, I’m not sure you do know how I feel. Because I didn’t make it harder for you. I didn’t show up somewhere solely to piss you off, and laugh with my friends to make you feel self-conscious, and be all smug and amused and rude to you, and pull your underwear out of my pocket in front of everyone to embarrass you. So no, Jimin, you don’t know how I feel,’ I reply angrily, unable to help myself, but it’s true – he made this all a hundred times worse at try-outs earlier, and I am angry at him for it. I wait for him to get angry in return, to point out that I probably didn’t make it any better for him by being a bitch, but I’m pleasantly surprised when he just nods, his head dropping sheepishly. ‘I’m sorry, y/n. I didn’t mean to, I promise – I never intended to piss you off or to make you feel self-conscious or to embarrass you. I tend to… not think before I do things, and I guess my pride was hurt that you left so I wanted to just save face. And I shouldn’t have… left you earlier. I was just being petty and wanted to get back at you. I’m really sorry,’ he says earnestly, and I’m shocked into silence for a few moments, before I nod.

‘Okay. I accept your apology,’ I say, and he smiles. ‘I’m glad. Now… shall I take you home?’ he asks, and I blink in surprise. ‘What?’ ‘You said you wanted to go home so do you want me to take you?’ he offers, and I hesitate for a moment. ‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea.’ ‘Why not?’ ‘Because I’m supposed to hate you, and you’re supposed to hate me,’ I whisper, and he raises an eyebrow, taking a step closer to me. ‘Like I said earlier… would it really be so bad if we didn’t hate each other?’ he replies quietly, and I’m silent. ‘I don’t… I don’t know. It’s kinda… scary to think about. And it’s just easier to hate you. And…’ I trail off, and an amused smile appears on his stupid face. ‘You’re too stubborn to not hate me when you’ve hated me for so long, right?’ he says, seeing right through me, and I nod sheepishly. ‘We really need to work on your stubbornness, because I can see a future for us, y/n. If you could just give in to your feelings for me, we could pursue something together,’ he grins, but there’s no humour, no amusement in his voice at all, his honesty nearly winding me. He throws an arm around my shoulders and slowly walks us back up to the house. ‘A future? For you and me?’ I echo, and he lets out a gentle laugh. ‘Yeah! We’ll get married as soon as we finish Uni, have a load of kids, and they can become footballers and cheerleaders to follow in our footsteps,’ he says, and I choke, making him let out a loud laugh. ‘Okay, maybe not as soon as we finish Uni. I’ll make that sacrifice.’ ‘Thanks.’ ‘Of course, angel. Anything for you.’

The second we step into the house, all eyes in the kitchen look up at us. ‘Can we help you?’ Jimin asks evenly, daring them to say something, and they’re all silent. ‘Thought so,’ he mutters, leading us over to where the drinks are as conversation resumes around us, albeit much quieter now. Jimin eyes the dozens of bottles covering the countertop before his eyes flit to the cup in my hand. ‘What you drinking, babe?’ he asks quietly, and I hold my drink up for him to try. ‘You trying to roofie me?’ he grins, and I let out a little laugh. ‘It’s Fireball whisky and cream soda. Jeongyeon’s concoction,’ I say, and he grimaces before trying some, his face instantly changing. ‘Oh, wow, that’s good,’ he says, reaching for the whisky bottle to pour himself some. ‘Did you just arrive?’ I ask, and he nods. ‘I literally got here, walked into the kitchen, saw you weren’t in here, asked Mark where you were, and he said you were outside. I was coming to apologise,’ he says, and my heart warms. ‘To be honest… I should apologise too,’ I say, and his mouth drops open. ‘I can’t believe my ears. Is stubborn y/n finally discarding her pride?’ ‘Shut up, stupid,’ I laugh, shoving him gently, and he grins. ‘You don’t have to apologise, angel. You were scared that we didn’t hate each other, so you left, and then you were a bitch to me so that I’d hate you. That’s it. Don’t worry about it,’ he says, and I nod, grateful that I don’t have to apologise.

‘Okay,’ he says once he’s poured his drink, ‘shall we get away from all the staring?’ I raise an eyebrow, and he laughs. ‘I didn’t mean that, but if you’re down. I still owe you from earlier,’ he says lowly with a smirk, and my breath catches in my throat. ‘Um… maybe later. Let’s… see what’s going on in the rest of the house,’ I say, and he nods, grinning at my flustered state. And then he takes my hand into his, our fingers laced together, and a little shock runs up my arm at the contact. I nearly slap myself – he was rearranging my guts earlier, but I’m getting butterflies at him holding my hand? Really?

He leads me into the living room, several pairs of eyes turning to us, but he completely ignores them, so I do too. ‘You wanna stay in here?’ he asks over the loud music, and I shake my head. He nods, continuing to lead us through the room into the front hallway. The layout is the same as the ASP house, so Jimin knows his way around, leading me through the hallway and pushing open the door to the other living room, where it’s considerably more chill. The haze of weed lays heavy on the air, music gently pulsing through the room, and there are a lot less people in here, majority the boys on the football team with their girlfriends. ‘Oh, y/n, Chan spoke to me, I…’ Felix calls to me before his eyes land on Jimin behind me, his words trailing off when he spots our intertwined hands. ‘Yeah, it’s… yeah,’ I say, a little embarrassed, and Felix just nods, holding back a laugh when Jimin looks between us. ‘What did Chan speak to you about, Lix?’ Jimin asks, and I cringe. ‘They’re the ones that walked into the changing rooms earlier,’ I say under my breath, and he lets out a little noise of realisation with a nod, a smirk playing at his lips as he looks at Felix, the boy looking endlessly amused. ‘Oh, are you guys talking about how we walked in on you in the changing room?’ Jisung calls out tactlessly, and I close my eyes, gathering myself, as laughter ripples around the room. ‘You know what? Let’s just leave,’ I say tiredly, more laughter following my words, and Jimin nods, bidding goodbye to his friends with a smug grin as he leads me out of the room.

‘Shall we sit outside?’ he suggests, and I nod, letting him pull me through the front door. I shut the door behind us, and when I turn back, Jimin’s sat on the front step, looking out onto the front garden. It’s surprisingly empty, and it’s quiet out here, the only noise coming faintly from inside. I sit down beside him, pulling my dress down, and Jimin notices, a greasy smirk appearing on his face. ‘I swear to God, Park, I will not hesitate to throw this drink at you,’ I say, and he laughs, eyes disappearing behind their lids. ‘I was just gonna say that you look really nice. That dress really suits you,’ he grins, and I eye him suspiciously, holding back a laugh. He holds his hands up, feigning innocence, and I let out a gentle laugh, taking a sip of my drink. ‘Did you wear it for me?’ he asks, and I nod without looking at him. ‘Good choice. I like it,’ he replies, reaching for my hand, and I can’t help the small smile on my face as he laces his fingers with mine, our hands resting in my lap.

We both fall into a comfortable silence, and it’s really nice. It’s like all the other stuff falls away and doesn’t matter anymore, and we’re just a girl and a boy sat on the front steps of a frat house, taking a moment away from the party under the night sky, holding hands and drinking whisky and soda. We sit in silence for a few minutes, and I think that this is what true peace is like; when things are quiet and simple and easy, and nothing’s bothering me, nothing’s complicated or confusing, nothing matters. It’s almost too good to be true.

The door behind us opens after a few minutes, both of us turning to see Jeongin and Changbin, two more boys on the team, and Jimin grins widely when he sees them. I turn to face the front garden again, my back to the boys with my hand still in Jimin’s, both resting in my lap. ‘Boys! How are you? Ready for first practice next week?’ Jimin asks them, and I roll my eyes amusedly – football is their livelihood, and Jimin’s in his element talking about football, even more now that he’s been promoted to Captain. ‘Looking forward to it, Captain!’ Jeongin exclaims, hyping Jimin up even more. ‘Before we get distracted with football, we thought we’d let you know that, um, Rosie’s been looking for you. She asked us where you were and we said we didn’t know so we could buy you some time, but she’ll probably find you soon,’ Changbin says, and I freeze at the mention of his ex, Jimin wincing. ‘Um, okay, thanks, guys. I’ll, uh, speak to you later,’ he says, dismissing them, and they quickly disappear with a ‘bye’ thrown over their shoulders before the door shuts.

‘Why is Rosie looking for you?’ I ask amusedly, knowing exactly why she’s looking for him. She and Jimin have been in an on-again-off-again relationship for a long time, but he ended it for good at the end of last year, and stayed true to his word. According to the rumours, they don’t even talk anymore, just walk past each other without a word, and they haven’t slept with each other again. But she’s obviously got wind about me, and is jealous. ‘Um, yeah, about that. There’s probably something I should tell you,’ he says hesitantly, and I feel my body go a little cold as I turn my eyes to him – maybe there is a different reason she’s looking for him. ‘I… may have… slept with her… on Tuesday,’ he says, and the words don’t really register with me for a moment. ‘y/n?’ he says, eyes full of worry and I blink, realisation washing over me.

He slept with her. Four days ago.

I remove his hand from mine, and he flinches when I do so, retracting his hand slowly. ‘What… were you thinking?’ I ask, and he just blinks for a moment. ‘I was thinking that you hated me because you left and I was hurt so I found comfort in someone else,’ he says, tone neutral, but I can hear the defensiveness coming through. And, okay, maybe that is a good enough reason. But I’m still angry. Do I even have a right to be angry? ‘But your ex? Jimin, I-’ ‘Yes, y/n, my ex. I don’t really think you have a right to be angry. You left me. You knew my feelings for you were different to what you first thought, and you left anyway!’ he exclaims, voice rising, and I roll my eyes, letting out a humourless laugh. ‘I wasn’t obligated to stay just because you liked me!’ ‘But you liked me too!’ ‘I’m not sure I did, Jimin, and I’m still not sure about it! Besides, you literally said like fifteen minutes ago that you understood why I left and that I didn’t need to apologise for it!’ I point out, and he scoffs. ‘I do understand, but that doesn’t mean it hurts any less, y/n. I was hurting and she was at the ASP house picking up her hair clip that she lost at the party and one thing led to ano-’ ‘So she just happened to be at the house, picking up a hair clip, three days after what happened between you and me? You don’t think she planned that?’ I say incredulously, unable to believe how dense he is. ‘So what if she did? To me, it was meaningless sex, to get my mind off you. I don’t think you have a right to be angry.’ ‘I don’t think I do either, but I still am!’ I exclaim, and he rolls his eyes, a smile playing at his lips. ‘You’re not angry, you’re jealous.’ ‘I’m not jealous, Jimin, don’t be ridiculous,’ I scoff, even more pissed off now. ‘You are.’ ‘If I said, ‘let’s go upstairs and fuck’ right now, you would be down, so what have I got to be jealous about?’ I ask lowly, and his eyes darken. ‘Fine. You’re not jealous. You’re angry I slept with someone else because you like me. Don’t even bother saying you’re still not sure because that’s the only reason for you to be angry. And in that case, I understand. And I’m sorry. I won’t do it again,’ he says calmly, and I don’t say anything, looking away from him.

After a few moments, he reaches for my hand tentatively, gauging my reaction before lacing our fingers together again. ‘You don’t have to apologise. I’m just being silly,’ I say, and he chuckles, moving closer to me. ‘I’ll apologise as many times as you need me to. I really do like you, y/n, and I kinda have for a while. I don’t want to fuck up whatever this is happening between us. And I know you’re still reluctant and you still want to hate me or whatever, but I don’t mind waiting until you’re ready. I’m happy to take time to win you over,’ he says softly, and my heart warms a little. The contrast between this Jimin and the Jimin from last week really is insane. There are so many sides to him, it’s hard to keep track. ‘Sorry,’ I say, and he lets out a gentle laugh. ‘You don’t have to apologise for getting angry that I slept with my ex, even if we didn’t make any commitments to each other. I understand,’ he says simply, and I can’t help the smile on my face as I shuffle even closer to him, our sides pressed together and my head resting on his shoulder.

And again, it’s nice. But it really is too good to be true. The door behind us is wrenched open before we hear, ‘Jimin?’ I sigh, Jimin turning to look at Rosie. ‘Rosie,’ he replies, voice neutral, and I turn around, our eyes meeting. ‘Hi, Rosie,’ I smile at the girl. I’ve never actually had a problem with Rosie – we run in the same social circles, she’s a Cheerleader, and we’ve never been close but from what I know of her, she’s okay. ‘Hi, y/n. Do you mind if I speak to Jimin for a moment?’ she says sweetly. ‘Of course,’ I reply with a smile, not moving a muscle, and Jimin sighs. ‘y/n, please,’ he says, and I turn to him, annoyance unfurling in my chest. ‘Okay,’ I say coldly, dropping his hand from mine and rising up, brushing past Rosie into the house.

What is wrong with him? Has he got no common sense? The logical thing to have done is obviously to not speak to her – what could she possibly have to say? All she’s going to do is try to get him back. And he’s really stupid enough to ask me to leave? Am I a dickhead? I let out an angry sigh, deciding that I’ve had enough. He’s been spouting all this shit about how he doesn’t want to fuck this up, and then literally like two fucking minutes later, he’s having a private conversation with his ex. This is like ‘To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before’ but in real life. He’s Peter, Rosie’s Gen and I’m Lara Jean. Somehow though, I feel like I won’t have the same happy ending.

‘y/n!’ I hear Jennie call from the other living room, where she’s sat with Jihyo and Irene, and I sigh, heading in. ‘What’s happened?’ she asks, and I roll my eyes, the attention of everyone in the room on me. ‘He apologised and we made up but then he asked me to leave so he could have a private conversation with his ex,’ I say, and they all gasp, confirming that I’m not a crazy bitch and that he shouldn’t be having private conversations with his ex. ‘Oh, girl, you better not forgive his stupid ass,’ Jihyo says, the other girls in the room nodding and giving various agreements, and the boys are all quiet – they obviously feel a sense of loyalty to Jimin and don’t want to talk bad about him. ‘I feel so pissed, but I also feel like I don’t have a right to be pissed,’ I say, and the girls all frown, disagreeing instantly. ‘You do have a right to be pissed. You should go throw your drink over his stupid head,’ Jennie says angrily, and I hold back a laugh.

‘I don’t know what to do,’ I sigh helplessly, perching on the arm of Seungmin’s armchair. ‘It’s a red flag, y/n. End things here – don’t let it go too far otherwise you’ll get too attached, your feelings will get deeper and stronger, and it’s just not worth it. Him and Rosie are always messing around and it’ll probably be like that for a long time – she’s a nice girl but she’s got Jimin wrapped around her finger and she knows it. If he tries to move on, she’ll stop it. It’s not worth you getting involved in that, because you shouldn’t have to compete with his ex,’ Irene says softly, everybody listening to her, and I know she’s exactly right; I might… maybe… kinda… sorta… like(?) Jimin now, but he’s not worth competing with another girl for. If there’s even a choice for him, I should walk away. I deserve someone who wants me and only me. ‘God, you’re right,’ I wail, throwing myself back against the armchair and lifting my hand to my face despairingly, a little laugh running around the room at my dramatics as Seungmin pats my arm comfortingly. ‘I know he’s our friend, y/n, but he’s also kinda a dick when it comes to girls, and we all know it. I mean, he was literally bragging to us yesterday about what happened between you guys,’ Minho says, and I feel my focus shifting entirely to his words when he says that, my entire body tensing. ‘What did he say?’ I ask calmly, though I can feel my anger slowly rising, along with the tension in the room. ‘Well… um,’ Minho begins hesitantly, before sighing, ‘we all went to ASP last night for KPN and ASP Pizza Friday, and we were speaking about going to watch you guys at the try-outs. JB mentioned that, as the new captain, you might get pissed if we showed up, and then the conversation turned to you and Jimin last week.’

I’m in total shock; he blatantly lied to me earlier, by telling me that he’d only told his closest friends. The thought that all those boys were sat together last night, talking about me, makes my stomach turn. ‘What did he tell you guys?’ I ask shakily, despite not actually wanting to know. ‘Um… everything,’ Minho says, and my heart drops. ‘Everything?’ ‘Yeah. Everything,’ Chan confirms, voice gentle, and I can feel tears pricking my eyes. ‘Wow. Okay. So not only is he a dick, he blatantly lied,’ I say flatly, the room completely silent other than the low RnB beat pulsing from the speaker. ‘I’m gonna go. Sorry for, uh, killing the vibe,’ I say quietly, pushing myself up from the arm of Seungmin’s armchair and heading towards the door, multiple people in the room calling after me.

I quickly dart up the stairs, dodging past the couple making out on the landing and into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. Part of me is numb, in complete shock, and doesn’t know how to react. Another part of me is unbelievably hurt that he completely lied to my face, and that he asked me to leave so he could talk to his ex. Privately. Another part of me is totally humiliated that he told the boys everything, my pride completely ruined now. And the other part of me is annoyed at myself for being so hurt about a boy who, this time last week, I hated and would’ve rather fought than fucked.

‘y/n, it’s me,’ I hear Jennie’s voice from the other side of the door, and I unlock it to let her in. She pulls me into a hug, and I have to scrunch my eyes shut to stop myself from crying, pushing my head into her neck as she rubs my back comfortingly. ‘He’s so trash, babe. So trash. You deserve so much better,’ she says soothingly, and I try my best to fully believe her words, but it’s hard when I’m also trying to hold back my tears.

Before I can even speak to her, Jiwon’s head appears around the door, her eyes widening when she sees how upset I am. ‘y/n! Sorry for just walking in but are you okay?’ she asks, eyes big with concern, and my heart warms. ‘Ugh, yeah,’ I say, Jennie and I moving apart, and I tilt my head back, blinking furiously to get rid of my tears. ‘It’s just Jimin. He’s such a dick. I’m done with him,’ I say, the words coming out of my mouth before I even think of them, and I realise that, yes, I am done with him. I’m not wasting my time on him anymore.

‘Good. You deserve better. I mean, I knew he was a dick when he literally grabbed me on the way up to his room last week and dragged me along behind him. He made me think he was attracted to me, but he obviously just wanted to make you jealous,’ Jiwon says, and it makes me hate him even more. I didn’t even think about how hurt she must have been when she realised he was just using her. ‘God, he really is a dick,’ I spit, face twisted up in disgust, and Jiwon lets out a gentle laugh. ‘I’m surprised you didn’t see that sooner.’ ‘I knew all along. There was a reason I hated him so much – he’s always been a self-absorbed, egotistic, arrogant douche, but now… he’s even worse in my eyes.’

‘Shall we head back downstairs, get you a drink, dance? Or… shall we head home? We could have a little girls’ night – we’ve got a couple bottles of Echo Falls in the fridge, Clueless and Mean Girls on Netflix, and I have a few face masks. We could invite some of the other girls, too. And you could join us, Jiwon. We could get drunk, order pizza and talk about how much of a bastard Jimin is,’ Jennie says, the three of us laughing. She’s really sold the idea – it sounds like a lot of fun – but it’s late already. It’s better if I just head home and go to sleep. I actually feel exhausted after the events of today; it’s been an emotional rollercoaster, and I’m literally craving my bed right now. ‘That sounds fun, Jen, but maybe we could do that another night. I could do with just sleeping tonight,’ I say, and she nods, smiling gently.

‘Shall I order an Uber?’ ‘You stay,’ I say, and she frowns. ‘Why would I stay? You’re upset – I’ll come back with you.’ ‘No, honestly, I’ll be fine. You stay, enjoy the party. You haven’t even spent any time with Namjoon,’ I say, and she rolls her eyes. ‘I don’t care about spending time with Namjoon right now. You’re my priority. I’m coming home with you,’ she says firmly, pulling her phone out of her pocket, and I exchange an exasperated glance with Jiwon, the other girl incredibly amused.

As soon as Jennie’s ordered the Uber, we head downstairs to bid everyone goodbye. The second I step into the kitchen, Jin and Jungkook appear in front of me, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. ‘Don’t say a word, because I swear to God, I won’t hesitate to kick you both in the balls,’ I threaten angrily, and their grins soon disappear. ‘Have you been crying, y/n? What’s the ma-?’ ‘Don’t say a word!’ I exclaim, pushing past them to say goodbye to Wendy, Lisa, Chaeyoung and Tzuyu, the three of them giving me tight and comforting hugs – it seems that word’s already gotten around to the girls about Jimin and I. Then, in the living room, Nayeon, Seulgi, Mina, Jeongyeon, Jisoo, Momo, Joy and Sana all stop dancing the second I walk in, smothering me in hugs, and I know for sure that word has gotten around. And then, in the other living room, Jihyo, Irene, Yeri and Dahyun all give me big hugs too, and it really does make me feel better. Girls say it a lot, but it’s true – as long as you have your girls around you, you really don’t need a man. Any KNP or ASP boys that I walk past get the cold shoulder – they were all present when Jimin told them the dirty details and, despite some of them being my friends, close friends, not one of them thought to tell me. The only person that gets a goodbye from me is Minho; the rest of them can fuck themselves.

When I reach the front door, my hand shakes for a moment and I hesitate, Jennie putting a comforting hand on my shoulder. I take a deep breath, rolling back my shoulders and raising my chin a little, injecting as much confidence into my body language as possible before I aggressively turn the handle, pulling the door towards me forcefully. They’re still sat on the front doorstep, Rosie where I was sat just half an hour ago, and they both jump when they hear the door open. And even though they react instantly, I still spot Jimin’s hand retracting from Rosie’s, leaving hers empty.

My eyes flit back up, in front of me, and I carefully walk through the gap between them, ignoring them both completely. ‘y/n? Are you leaving?’ I hear Jimin ask, but Jennie puts a hand on my back, the both of us continuing to walk up towards the road and away from him. ‘y/n! Wait!’ he calls after me, and then I hear his footsteps behind us, making my blood boil – can he not take the hint? ‘What, Jimin?’ I demand, whirling around to face him, and he hesitates in his steps. ‘y/n-’ ‘No, Jimin, don’t ‘y/n’ me. What the fuck do you want?’ ‘I… you’re angry at me,’ he says quietly, and I let out a harsh laugh. ‘Great observation, Jimin! What else will you come out with? The grass is green? Or the sky is blue, perhaps?’ ‘Okay, you don’t need to be so bitchy to m-’ ‘Bitchy?’ I practically scream, marching towards him, and he recoils away from me. Good. I’m glad he’s scared.

‘I think I’m well within my rights to be bitchy to you, you fucking bastard!’ I shriek, and he flinches, confusion all over his face. ‘What did I do, y/n? I… let me fix it,’ he says, and I let out another humourless laugh. ‘Fix it? You want to fix it?’ I ask hysterically, voice shaking, ‘You might’ve been able to fix the fact that you asked me to leave so you could have a private conversation with your ex, but that’s a very strong ‘might’, because I am not a choice, Jimin! You don’t get to mess me around! I’m number one, or I’m nothing to you at all!’ ‘Okay. Okay, I understand, and I’m sorry. I won’t do something like that again,’ he says earnestly, desperation in his eyes, but I can’t muster up any sympathy at all. Maybe I am a bitch, like he told me so many times last week.

‘No, you’re not going to do something like that again. Because you’re not going to have the chance, Jimin. We are done. That’s it,’ I say, and any hope that was in his eyes completely disappears, the light draining away. ‘What? Why? I thought you wanted… to give us a go,’ he says quietly, sounding… lost, and confused. It only makes me angrier – he’s not gonna get away with playing innocent today. ‘I did. Before I found out that you went and blabbed every single detail of last week to every fucking frat boy in ASP and KPN last night! Did you somehow forget about that, or did you purposely leave out that detail when I asked you earlier?’ I scream, body shaking with fury, and the second he registers my words, the colour disappears from his face, and he looks like he might throw up. He doesn’t say anything, and I give him the chance, but he doesn’t even bother to deny it, just stares at me in shock and the last shred of my hope that maybe Minho lied, that he exaggerated, or that maybe Jimin only told a couple of the guys disappears. ‘Yeah. That’s what I thought too. So forgive me for being such a bitch,’ I spit at him, and he opens his mouth to speak, no words coming out.

‘Go on. Say something. You’ve had plenty to say all night. So let’s hear it,’ I prompt sarcastically, and he just blinks before he whispers miserably; ‘I’m so sorry.’ ‘Sorry? You’re sorry? Oh, well, that’s okay! Everything’s solved now, huh? That just makes everything fine!’ I shout, and his head drops, eyes on the ground. ‘Not only did you tell everyone, you lied about it! So how can I pursue something with you when you’re already lying to me? I can’t trust a word you say!’ ‘I… I’m not defending myself… but you lied to me too, y/n. You told me that you told Jennie, and ‘a couple of the other girls’. But we both know that was a lie,’ he says slowly, stuttering as he speaks, and I’m dumbfounded, in complete and utter shock.

‘You… you don’t understand. I told the girls, my closest friends. We tell each other everything. I’ve been there for them through everything, and they’ve been there for me through everything. You told two entire fraternities of immature and idiotic man children! You don’t think there’s a difference between the two? I bet they congratulated you, right? On getting the girl that hates you into bed? Asked what I was like? What my body looks like? Whether I had good head game, or good pussy? Saw me as just a slut, another conquest, another notch in your belt? Two entire fraternities objectified me last night, and you can’t even try to tell me otherwise, because I can guarantee that every girl in this damn university has had an experience to prove that you frat boys are disgusting. So you can fuck yourself, Jimin, and don’t ever compare me telling the girls to you telling those idiots again,’ I spit out angrily, and he’s completely silent, confirming everything I’ve just said. ‘I’m done with you. Don’t ever speak to me again,’ I hiss before turning on my heel and marching to where Jen stands outside the Uber, smiling at me softly.

‘That was amazing. I’m so proud of you,’ she says when I reach her, and I smile back as she opens the car door, letting me climb in first. I slide across the seat, Jennie following me in, and when she shuts the door behind her, I feel my heart pulse with hurt, eyes filling with tears. And as the driver pulls away from the house and I turn to look out of the rear window, being met with the sight of Jimin stood there, watching the car drive away, his eyes shining with tears, I can’t hold back my own, sobbing as if my heart would break.

[zmediaoutlet]

have a cigar

new fic for the Sunday Morning Porn Club; having some s2 feels and thinking about how big and wild and uncertain Sam was in those early days. But also thinking about porn.

title: have a cigar pairing: Sam/Dean rating: E length: 5500 words tags: Season/Series 02, New Relationship, slight D/s, Sam Winchester's Demonic Powers, Post-Episode: s02e05 Simon Said            

summary: What happened with Andy and Ansem unsettles Sam. Dean doesn't seem worried.

(read on AO3)

They’re over the state border from Oklahoma into Kansas when Dean indicates that he’s getting off the highway. Sam looks up at the sound of the blinker, looks around. "What, gas?" he says. They’re not that far out from Guthrie, so unless Dean has to pee—

"Nah, we’ve still got a hundred miles left in the tank," Dean says, rolling the car smoothly onto the offramp. Wellington, Kansas: population 8,105, and exactly no reason for them to be stopping. Sam frowns across the bench and Dean glances at him, and then rolls his eyes. "Jeez. A guy can’t want a break? We were up all night, man, dealing with the psychic twins. Plus you got a head injury. Sue me, I’m taking a minute."

"It's not really a head injury," Sam says. Kansas outside the car windows—mid-morning, green. "We told Ellen we’d be right there." He rubs his hand under the edge of his cast, rolling the tendons under his thumb. "What if she’s got a case or something?"

"Then it can wait half a day," Dean says, and it’s a little louder than it needs to be. He’s got a grip at ten-and-two, his jaw square. Sam looks at him and hears his voice in a perfect echo, saying you’re all part of something that’s terrible, and he bites the inside of his cheek so hard that it throbs but he doesn’t say anything, after that.

Outskirts of towns tend to look the same. Truckstop, motel attached. A McDonald’s. Dean pilots them to a vaguely dirty Mexican place that looks like it last had its decor updated in 1987, and when they’re at the dented formica table with their plastic menus Dean lets out a sigh that sounds like it came from his feet. "You think they’d give me a margarita at, uh, 11:32 in the morning?" he says.

He does look tired. Sam sucks the sore inside of his cheek. "Probably goes great with huevos rancheros," he says, and gets Dean to smile at him, so—all right. A little break.

The food’s bland, given the cornfields all around, but comforting too. They don’t talk much. Dean looks over a copy of the Wichita Eagle that someone left behind, in some obituary-scanning reflex; Sam swirls his fork through his larded refried beans and looks out the window, thinking. Andy, and Ansem. Brothers, though Andy didn’t know it until it was too late, and Ansem went bad but Andy—

Dean knocks his boot into Sam’s ankle, and Sam flinches but when he refocuses Dean’s looking at him, kinda soft. Kinda not soft. Kinda defiant, in that weird way that he’s started to do, and Sam feels heat rush into his cheeks, seeing. Dean smiles like he won something, even if his ears go pink, too, and he wipes his mouth with the balled napkin and says, "I’m going to the can," and Sam says, "Oh, great, thanks for the update," because they are brothers, and Dean smirks and walks off with a kind-of swagger and it’s not Sam’s fault that that calls attention to the shape of his ass, but Sam’s looking, either way.

The waitress offers more iced tea, when Dean’s gone. "No, gracias," Sam says. She raises her eyebrows a little but puts down the check. Sam leans back in the booth, spinning his unused knife as best he can in his busted hand, looking again out the window. Trucks, and a cornfield, and blue skies. Plain and familiar, and if he tries to imagine a demon coming here, a darkness swarming over it, somehow it just—doesn’t compute. But there was Andy, and Ansem, just a hundred miles south of here in an easy calm town that had no idea what was coming, and they brought murder with them. Killers, and freaks, and the town and its people hadn’t done a damn thing to deserve it.

"What, you forget how to pay a tab?"

Sam jerks, brought back to earth. Dean’s standing slouched, one hip leaning on the table, rifling through his wallet.

"Swear, you’re a lousy date," Dean says, dropping a pile of cash onto the little plastic tray, but he’s got a smile threatening, tucked into the corners of his mouth, and Sam’s—god, he didn’t know it could—this is—different.

A motel. Corn-themed. "Real original, huh?" Dean says, under his breath, but he gets them a room, and when they’re inside with two queens and steady A/C and the shades pulled, leaving them in privacy, he drops his bag on the closer bed and looks at Sam sidelong and says, "I’m gonna shower first, ‘kay."

The bathroom door closes before Sam can say a thing. He blows out the breath stuck in his chest and sticks out the Privacy Please tag, and then he sits on the end of the bed he guesses is his, and looks at the bathroom where the shower’s hissed on, the pipes clanking inside the walls.

Not so—obvious, usually. They’ve only been—it’s been like this, between them, for—what, a few months. Barely. Since Dad, and the brutal weeks after it, and a weird raw conversation in pre-dawn light that led to Sam putting his hand on Dean’s face and Dean snarling and then practically shoving him onto his back, and—

It’s new. Dean seems to seesaw back and forth between pretending like it doesn't exist, in the light of day, and a raw grasping want that kind of scares Sam, even if it's maybe the hottest thing that's ever happened to him. No one he's ever been with has wanted him this much. He's never wanted it this much.

He washes his face in the sink. When he pushes the damp edges of his hair back he looks—okay. A little tired, but decent. His head does hurt, actually, where Tracy tried to brain him. Where she was forced to.

Sam closes his eyes. Jesus, he is tired. And—pissed off, too. When he thinks about it. Freaks, all of them, and Sam's got the visions and the migraines and this horrible feeling in his gut like something's gonna happen, some tidal wave of shit that's going to crest the horizon, and he's not going to be able to do a damn thing about it.

Andy, and Ansem. Speaking their wants into reality. Max Miller, moving things with his mind. Sam, and his dreams, and it wouldn't have to be bad. Except it always ends up bad. Death, somehow waiting, and he strips off his jacket and his boots and crawls onto the nearer bed, and buries his face into the pillow, and tries to listen to the steady familiar sound of the shower going and tries not to think about that dark wave. Drawing nearer, cresting.

*

A honk wakes him up. He blinks, drags in muffled air. When he turns over Dean's sitting on his bed, frowning at the curtains. "Just 'cause you can't drive," he mutters, and then looks back down at Sam. "Oh, finally."

Sam drags a hand over his face. No drool, that's something. He yawns, stretching out on the bed. "How long was I out?"

"Couple hours," Dean says. He points the remote and Sam sees the TV on, muted, a newscast—and off, just as fast. Politer than Dean usually is.

"Should've woken me up," Sam says, and Dean rolls his eyes and says, "You need all the beauty sleep you can get," and Sam smiles, can't help it, and he goes to sit up but Dean puts a hand on his shoulder and he stays put. Surprised a little. Dean, looking at him.

"Sammy," Dean says. He's tipped in toward Sam, in a t-shirt and boxers, and the look he's giving Sam is steady, considering. "You didn't have any crazy dreams, right? No big visions?"

Sam blinks. "No."

"No," Dean repeats. "So we don't have to light out of here and haul ass to, like, Weehawken or something?"

"What?" Sam says. "No. Weehawken?"

Dean shrugs. "Tried to think of somewhere that'd suck." He sucks his lower lip into his mouth, looking at Sam, and then throws a leg over Sam's and settles himself in Sam's lap, just like that. Sam grabs his hips, startled instinct, while Dean shifts and his ass sits warm and heavy against Sam's dick. "So. Want to screw?"

Jesus. "How romantic," Sam says, but his mouth's dry. Light of day, just straight-out like that. Yeah, this is new. Dean pops his eyebrows, grins in that goofy way where he's trying to be funny or sexy or something, but for Sam it just reminds him how this is—them, the two of them together like this despite all sense or reason, and his stomach flips like encountering some new nasty thing but it's just—Dean. He gets a steady look, that grin going smaller, and then Dean leans down over him and braces his hand on Sam's pec to balance and kisses him like it's his right to do it, plush and immediately wet, his mouth like something—like a dream—

Sam pushes up on an elbow, kisses back. Dean tastes like toothpaste. His stomach, warm and soft under the warm soft t-shirt, and when Sam squeezes his ass with his good hand Dean makes a little noise into his mouth, tips his hips down. Hard already, pressing into Sam's stomach, like he was waiting maybe, like maybe he'd been fooling with himself hoping Sam would wake up. Sam bites his lip because it turns out Dean likes that, even if he bitches after, and he dips and kisses Dean's throat because it turns out Dean likes that, all his vampire comments notwithstanding, and Dean cups the back of Sam's head and digs his fingers into Sam's hair and Sam flips them over, easy reversal of their weight with Dean's thighs splayed out around his hips, and Dean says fuck under his breath when Sam tugs his shirt-collar down and bites at him there, but his chest pushes up into it like a chick wanting her tits played with, so that's clearly okay. "Vampire," Dean says, predictable already, and Sam grins and then sucks there, slicking his tongue against the little dents of his teeth. Dean's hips kick up and his thighs squeeze Sam's hips, but he groans too, and says, "Moving me around. You're such a control freak."

Their hips grind together. Even through his jeans it feels incredible, his dick chubbed up to match Dean's. "Like you mind," Sam says, even if he can feel the heat rushing up into his face to say it, flat-out like that. When he picks his head up Dean's eyes are heavy, his ears that bright red they always are when he's turned on, and Sam licks his lips and watches Dean's attention drop to them. Jesus. "You want me to stop?"

"Didn't say that." He tugs at Sam's arm and Sam lifts up, kisses him open, and Dean's leg slides against his, his hands framing Sam's waist, dragging up his back. When Sam pulls back to breathe Dean's lips are puffed-wet, red as his ears, and he's—fuck, he's hot. Sam drags a thumb over his cheek, swipes the wet off his lower lip, and Dean smiles a little. Like he knows what Sam's thinking. "Just saying. You gotta be in charge, huh? Never would've guessed, Sammy." He catches Sam's wrist and fake-whispers, like a shared secret: "That was sarcasm."

Sam snorts. "Yeah, you're hilarious." He braces his cast on the bed, tugs out of Dean's grip and slides his hand down to grip Dean's dick. So close it's easy to watch Dean's eyes go a little wide, his lips parting. "You wanna shut up now?"

Dean's thigh slides against his hip. "Make me." Sam squeezes and Dean sighs out hot against his face. He blinks then, a flash of smile. "Hey, maybe you could. Use that mojo."

Sam doesn't understand for a second. He pushes up higher on his elbow, frowns.

"Get me to do whatever you want, huh?" Dean's cheeks are very red. "No control issues then. What Sammy says goes."

With his dick this hard Sam doesn't know how to react. "Dean," he says, helplessly—some mix of turned on, of pissed off. Like Sam could be like—like he could be Andy. Ansem. Some nasty magic, getting Dean to do anything. "I wouldn't."

Dean licks the point of one canine, eyes on Sam's mouth. It's not picking a fight because he's so obviously hot for it that Sam's body reacts like a strange compulsion, stretching out over his brother, pinning him down. He rocks his hips into Dean's, pins one of Dean's arms down by the wrist, and Dean groans, arches into it. "I know you wouldn't," he says, rough. Sam leans back, his stomach flipping uncertainly, and Dean grabs his neck, arches up, wild and intense and amazing like Dean always is in bed—wholly present, wholly wanting, like no one else ever has been. Everyone is always thinking about something else, always holding a little apart. Not Dean—Dean's here, pressing his dick up against Sam's dick, holding Sam close, leaning up and kissing Sam's jaw where he hasn't shaved in a day, breathing hot against his ear, saying tight and sweet, "Tell me, though—tell me, what you'd make me do—what you'd say, Sammy, tell me—"

—and Sam says, coming up from some deep place, "I'd tell you I was gonna fuck you," and Dean groans like Sam punched him in the solar plexus—a deep short breathless grunt, breaking Sam's grip to grab his hips, his ass, hauling him in like Sam's already inches deep. Jesus, jesus, Dean wants it, even here in this little dump of a motel room at three in the afternoon, the light coming in muffled through the blinds. Vivid even in the muted grey, Dean's eyes visible and his mouth wide and his face an open book, a crazy thing. No secrets, anymore, Sam's sure of it. Sam grabs his face, dips his thumb between Dean's lips. "Jesus, Dean—yeah, I'm gonna fuck you. You're gonna let me. Aren't you."

"Yeah," Dean says, deep and ready, and Sam kneels up, drags Dean's boxers down and watches his dick slap up against his stomach, and he rips his jeans open one-handed, feeling wild. Feeling powerful, and right, especially with how Dean's eyes drop immediately to see him get his dick out and his mouth works like he wishes Sam would just feed it in, like he wants it there, wants it bad, wants it—wants Sam—

"You're gonna open right up for me, aren't you?" Sam says, lightheaded almost, and Dean nods dumbly and spreads, grabs one leg up by the back of his knee so Sam can burrow fingers down into the dark place between them—soft a little, damp a little, and when he looks up into Dean's face Dean's bright fuckin red like he knows exactly what Sam's thinking, like he knew what Sam was gonna ask for. Sam spits on two fingers and feeds them in and finds Dean—open, kinda wet, and Dean says—"There was—the conditioner, in the shower—" and Sam groans wild because it's like magic, like some wished-for thing, like he's Andy and he said to Dean open yourself up for me and Dean willed himself fuckable. He feeds himself inside, inch after inch, and Dean's face flinches and his eyes squeeze tight but he's rearing up, gripping into Sam's shirt, his legs wrapping around Sam's waist, lifting off the bed practically with how he's trying to shove Sam deeper, gasping for more than Sam can give.

Sam gets his cast bolstered under the small of Dean's back, keeps his weight tipped up into the perfect place for Sam to grind into. It's not wet enough and Dean's not loose enough but it feels outrageous, and Dean's panting for it, pulling at Sam's shirt hard enough that a button pops. "Fuck, you can hold me up, huh?" Dean says, shuddery, and Sam presses up on his good arm enough that Dean really does go airborne, the strain intense but worth it for the noise Dean makes when Sam's dick jolts inside him at the new angle. Dean's face presses against Sam's, his nose bumping Sam's ear and his mouth wet at Sam's jaw, and Sam curls his hips in these short shallow pumps that wouldn't usually do it for him except that Dean's so wrapped-up close that he can feel every shaking thing it's doing, the insanity of what he can make his brother feel.

That he can make him feel—Sam groans, sits back, and Dean's clinging to him so tight he gets hauled upright and his ass shoves down on Sam's dick through sheer gravity, enough to make him tip his head back on his shoulders and groan out loud. Sam keeps him in place, holding his hips steady, and shoves up, up, watching Dean's throat go bright red, kissing there when he can't stand not to, anymore. Dean's thighs squeeze his sides and his dick's rubbing all over Sam's shirt and he gets both hands in Sam's hair, keeping him in place, and Sam's biting and fucking up and keeping both their balance and so it's a surprise, sort of, when Dean says nearly breathless against the top of his ear, "Tell me—Sammy, tell me something else, tell me what you want me to do."

Fuck. Sam bites Dean's collarbone hard enough that Dean yelps, squirms and yanks at Sam's hair to get him to pull back, and both feel so good that Sam just sucks harder before he lets go. When he tips his head up Dean's looking at him, red-faced and glassy-eyed, and Sam says without thinking much about it, "I'm gonna come in you, and then I want to eat it out. You're gonna let me." Dean's jaw drops further and Sam actually feels the spasm around the root of his dick, Dean's whole body clenching. Anticipation, he's pretty sure. Sam hasn't—they haven't done that, yet, but now it's all he wants, and he knows Dean will practically cry for it. Sam smiles at him, a weird sort of power filling up his chest, watching how his working dick makes Dean feel. "Later, too. If I want you to blow me. Tonight. Or at a rest stop—shit, parked out where someone might see, Dean. You'll do it, won't you?"

Dean groans, when Sam pushes up into him hard, keeping his hips held tight against Sam's so that he's full. The way Sam's learning he likes to be. "All right, Sammy," Dean says, soft, and Sam—fuck, he can't, he can't wait anymore, and he bears Dean back onto the mattress and lets his head bounce, and when he shoves in at just the right angle Dean shouts at the ceiling and then Sam's free to just—fuck him, to get his dick inside that hot friction where Dean's so ready for him, where he wants it because he—because he wants what Sam wants. Something Sam didn't get, when they first started this up, and it was rough and unspoken and awkward in the night. Everything he tried, something Dean just accepted and built higher, and when they kissed for the first time that wasn't like fighting it was something that—that Sam doesn't—god Dean feels good, and he's moaning against Sam's temple like he's getting some kind of dick-based religion, and Sam grips his hips and slams in without care or finesse and when he comes it's brutal, some unloading from the base of his spine, and he says—something—but his ears are roaring and his hips are flexing deep and Dean's nails are digging so hard into his back under his shirts that it hurts but even that feels good, at that second, the world aligning for a half-moment into being for fucking once in Sam's life—right.

He barely holds himself up, breathing hard into Dean's throat. Dean's still twitching, his dick like iron against Sam's stomach. He rocks against Sam, churning Sam's dick inside him where it's still hard, and they groan together, feeling it, but Dean groans louder when Sam slips out. They've fucked like this—a handful, two handfuls, of times, and they've swapped back and forth but Sam's only felt insane this way when he was on top, when he was in charge. With his body still ringing like a struck gong he licks his lips and then bites Dean's throat very deliberately, just below the amulet cord, hard enough that it'll leave a mark, and only when Dean's hissing does Sam think to ask—but. But he doesn't have to ask.

He releases his jaw, stretches it. Licks, against the hurt mark, and then crawls down the bed, kisses Dean's pec and his nipple and his soft belly and his hip, and brushes his cheek stubble and all against Dean's straining dick and feels Dean's thighs jump around his shoulders. When he looks up Dean's watching him, head off-center on a pillow and his eyes slitted, dark. "What am I going to do now?" Sam says.

Dean licks his lower lip. "You—" He swallows. "What you said."

"Yeah," Sam says, and pushes Dean's thighs up in time to watch his sore-fucked rosy asshole flex and drip, a runnel of white that Sam dips and collects with his tongue—salt, and bitter, but good enough that Sam's bones shiver in his skin. He laps across Dean's asshole and feels it so hot and soft, and Dean moans rich enough up above that Sam's own dick twitches, caught in a semi between his hip and the bed. He licks deeper, his tongue almost dipping inside, and then hooks two fingers in easy on the wet he left behind, and Dean cries out but only spreads wider, fisting himself and letting Sam do—whatever he wants, whatever he needs, because Dean is—because Sam is—

Dean comes quieter than Sam expects, every time. His whole body freezes for a second and then he makes this deep sound in his chest, in his throat, arching toward Sam like for comfort, almost. Almost. Sam licks him through it and then lifts up, holding his fingers tight up where he'd buried them, watching Dean's face while the last of it spurts from his dick, while he slowly, slowly relaxes into the bed.

It's—god. Afternoon. Why is that what Sam thinks, but it's what he thinks. Afternoon and the sound of a semi roaring to life in the parking lot, and Ellen waiting a few hours north of here, and the world resettling into something that has to be dealt with. Sam works his jaw, lets his fingers slip out when Dean spasms around them. He doesn't—he doesn't regret this, ever, not since that first time when they both had to take a minute—but he feels… He swallows, and sits back on his knees. Jesus, he's still dressed. Jeans and button-down and socks, sweat and worse griming him up. He zips up, feeling weird.

Dean rubs a hand up his stomach, smearing his own jizz over his belly and undershirt. His amulet's swung around on his neck, laying against the pillow. "Dude, that was sick," he says, but in a way that's weirdly admiring. Sam licks his lips, the remaining afterglow twisting in his belly. Dean lets his heels slip down the bed, his legs splayed around Sam, and he's red-faced still, but maybe that's just because they're both so—out there. Exposed. Even so, Dean touches his knee against Sam's hip, the corner of his mouth turned up. "Seriously. You're like a freight train when you get going, you know that?"

Sam swallows. Thick aftertaste in his mouth. "Shut up," he says, and finally goes for the buttons on his shirt. Jeez, Dean really did rip one off—Sam'll have to hunt for it on the carpet or wherever. He likes this shirt, it doesn't deserve to get ruined by—this.

"Hey, did you hear me complaining?"

Sam keeps unbuttoning, wrestles the shirt off his sweaty arms. He's gonna need a shower before they go anywhere.

"Sammy," Dean says, and Sam swings a leg over, goes to get off the bed. Shower, and clean clothes, and maybe they won't be late enough that Ellen asks questions—"Hey!"

Sam's forearm is grabbed before he can get away and Dean tugs hard enough that Sam'll have to wrench something to get away. He pauses, still on one knee on the bed, and when he looks Dean's up on one elbow, still naked from the waist down, frowning at him. "What," Sam says.

"What." Dean squints at him, and he's not blushed up anymore, not turned on. Looking at Sam like he wishes he could peel back Sam's skull and see what he's thinking, but Dean's never been good at that, really. Sam wishes he were, sometimes. All his life he'd wished for some kind of privacy, but then when he got it everything just ended up—worse. When it mattered Dean couldn't see him, see what counted, and now, with what's happening—

"Come back here," Dean says, firm, but his tug on Sam's arm is gentle as anything. Sam sits, half-on the bed with his hip tucked up against Dean's hip, and Dean's still looking at him with that intense so-thoughtful look, and it's—it's killing Sam, kind of, deep in his gut, that Dean doesn't know, that he can't know, that Sam's by himself here even when like five minutes ago they were about as close as Sam's ever been, will ever be, to anyone.

"You're wigging out," Dean says, after a few beats of silence, and Sam snorts and says, "Yeah, that’s me," and maybe it's bitter and too much and too weird but Sam doesn't know any other way to be, now, but Dean sighs and says, "Fuck, Sammy," kinda quiet. He reaches up and gets Sam by the neck and tugs him down, down, until there's no choice really but to kiss, and Dean opens up soft and wide and easy like they've been doing this for years, like he knows exactly what Sam needs. Sam gets a hand on his jaw, holds his face. His lips a little chapped, toothmarks on the inside like he was biting himself before to stay quiet, and when they stop Sam leans his forehead against Dean's, lets their noses brush together, breathes his air. Dean runs his fingers through the hair at the back of Sam's head, a slow carding pull. Sam sighs.

"I don't know if I need to give you like a signed customer satisfaction survey," Dean says, in his normal voice, "but that was good. For me."

Sam's eyelids squeeze tight without him even meaning to. Purplish sparky bursts against the darkness.

"Hey," Dean says, and pushes him back an inch. Sam doesn't open his eyes, just lets Dean move him, and feels Dean's hand on his throat, his thumb braced right over Sam's pulse. "Seriously. If it's too weird, or—or if you don't—damn, Sam, I know you want it. Talking like that. And I'm obviously good with it too, I just practically came my brains out. So don't let it be weird, okay. It's just you and me."

"Like that's not weird?" Sam says, weirdly croaky and feeling how his voice vibrates against Dean's grip. When he looks again Dean's face is striped with the light from the blinds, the sun dipping just enough. A band of shadow across his eyes, a band of greyed-out yellow across his nose, showing the freckles he pretends he doesn't mind. Sam pushes further up and Dean lets him go, frowning at him while Sam picks the amulet off the pillow, resettles it into its place over Dean's sternum. He fiddles with it, avoiding Dean's eyes. Sharp little horns pricking his thumb. How haven't they blunted, he wonders, after all this time. He presses his thumb harder into one, letting it hurt, and watches his hand rather than look at Dean's face. "I don't know, man. I'm just—that stuff last night, it's not—it's bad. I don't want that. The power. The dreams are bad enough, you know?"

Dean gets a grip in Sam's t-shirt—loose, but enough that if he held fast Sam probably couldn't get away. "If you hadn't had 'em we wouldn't have gotten there," Dean says. "Tracy probably would've died."

"Ansem might've lived," Sam says back, and Dean makes a tch sound, not very under his breath. Sam sucks the inside of his cheek, that sore spot. Still sore. Dean's better at this, Sam thinks. This calculation. Who deserves to live and who deserves to die. Who's good and who's not. Tracy for Ansem, Sam thinks, but Andy still murdered someone. Bullet to the brain, and now who's a monster.

"Sorry," Dean says, and for that Sam does look up, frowning. There's a glimpse of white teeth as Dean worries at one corner of his lip. "I guess it's not really a—I wasn't trying to make like it's not a big deal."

Sam shrugs. "Scares you, doesn't it?" Dean blinks, expression tightening. "You said. Freaks me out, too. I don't think anybody here's saying it's not a big deal." Sam lets the amulet go, rubs the pad of his thumb to feel the deep dents he's made. They look like holes in him. "It just—first it was Max and now Andy. It goes wrong every time."

Dean sits up, fast. "We don't know that," he says, more intense than he really ought to be when he's half-naked. "Sammy. We're not gonna let it go that way, okay? You and me. We can handle it."

He gets his hand on the turn of Sam's jaw, makes Sam look at him, and Sam does because it's not like looking at Dean's a hardship. He tries a smile and Dean nods, like Sam's agreeing to something. He really can't read Sam's mind. Sam wonders if that's something he'll be able to do, soon, coming down the pipe of this shitty year, but before he can tug away at that miserable thought Dean's leaned in and is kissing him, again. Soft, coaxing when Sam's stiff, and he puts one hand solid on Sam's chest, grounding and warm. Sam sighs, leans into it. It's nice, and he might as well let Dean have something.

"Better," Dean says, quiet, when they pull apart, and Sam nods even if it wasn't a question. He's let his hand fall onto Dean's bare thigh and he squeezes the muscle there, trying to say—he doesn't even know what. Dean kisses him again, quick, and then lifts his eyebrows. "You still going to make me blow you at a rest stop? That's nasty, man."

Sam huffs and Dean grins, even if it's small. "Don't need magic powers to know you're easy," Sam says, and even if it feels like an effort he manages to make it sound light.

"Damn right I am," Dean says, and Sam smiles and says, "Okay, okay, I'm taking a shower," and lets Dean pat his chest before he closes himself into the little room, fluorescents and yellow tile, bright and just a little dingy.

Andy said Tracy was scared of him. Sam believes it. He saw her face, this morning in the ambulance. That dim horror. Dean's not there. Scared of the situation, about what might happen, but he's not afraid of Sam, yet. Sam tips his head back against the door, imagining it. Taking Dean's hand and pitching his voice a certain way—that weird tone that he'd heard in Andy's voice but which hadn't affected him—and saying kiss me, and Dean going soft and easy and smiling, and doing it, no questions asked. Doing other things, just because Sam asked.

His stomach turns hard enough that for a second he really thinks he's going to puke. Hits different than it did when his dick was doing the thinking. The things he could do, with that power—he's lucky that it's just the dreams he has to worry about. Although—back with Max—there was that wardrobe, that he moved—

"Hey, get a move on," Dean says, muffled through the door. Sam opens his eyes, shocked back to the moment. "We get cleaned up and out of here, I only got to pay for a half day, and we've got to get up to the Roadhouse by tonight."

"You're the one who wanted a break," Sam says, and Dean says, quieter, yeah, yeah. Sam's breathing hard, remembering. That wardrobe. It came out of Sam like a punch, pure instinct, but—Sam's learned how to do a lot harder things than to throw a punch.

He strips out of his clothes, turns on the shower. Hot. Runs his hand under the water, waiting for it heat up, and thinks that, in the right circumstances, anyone can be pushed.

"Sam, seriously!" Dean calls out.

Sam folds his hand into a fist, hard enough that he feels the tendons strain. They're not going to let anything happen. He might have to ask Dean to swear that's true. For now, his skin's crawling, but that's okay. He gets in the shower. They have road to cover, before the day's done.

[busterkeatonfanfic]

Chapter 11

Filming for Steamboat had wrapped by the first Saturday in September. Weeks of cutting still remained on the horizon, but Buster could do that from the comfort of his production room at the Villa. The cutting was precisely why he was now knocking on Joe’s office door. If he had anything to say about it, the words ‘Supervised by Harry Brand’ would not appear anywhere in the credits. Once was more than enough. 

“Come in,” said Joe. 

Buster walked in and seated himself in the chair in front of Schenck’s desk. 

“What’s on your mind?” said Joe. He was drinking coffee.

“The picture. What’s on anyone’s mind right now?” said Buster affably.

“Sure,” said Joe. “Still on track to finish tomorrow?”

“That’s the plan,” said Buster. 

Joe wasn’t stupid and Buster could see that he was trying to figure out what the visit was about. He seemed a little uneasy as he sipped his coffee.

“So,” said Joe. 

“Sew buttons,” Buster said, the witticism lame and off-handed, before getting down to business. “Anyway, I was thinking about how we’re going to cut the picture and that got me to thinking about the credits. About how we’re doing things in general.”

Joe looked at him, waiting for him to go on.

“So you’ve got a picture. Say it’s a Doug Fairbanks picture. For example, Doug comes on and you say, ‘Douglas Fairbanks supervised by Joe Doakes.’ It’s bad on the face of it. You’re belittling Fairbanks. Fairbanks, not Doakes, is what you’re selling.” Buster leaned forward and knit his hands on the desk. 

“I’m listening,” said Joe. A frown was creeping onto his face. 

“When you’re talking about a picture, what do you really need? Three things. One man writes it, another man directs it, and a star acts it. Those three people are responsible for every great picture that was ever made. In some cases one man is all three—Chaplin,” said Buster.

“I see where you’re going with this and I disagree,” said Joe, giving a frown. “Supervisors are the big thing. All the big studios are using them.”

“Maybe they are,” he said. “But they can be wrong. It’s not going to last long. The whole damned thing’s a bad joke.”

Joe shook his head, looking displeased.

Buster laid the trump card on the table, poker-faced but confident. “There’ll be no more supervisors in the pictures Buster Keaton makes.”

He waited for Joe to reply. As the seconds ticked by in silence, he began to wonder if he was in for a real fight. He’d said he was taking the pot, but maybe Joe didn’t know that he wasn’t bluffing.

At last, Joe cleared his throat and said something. Buster had to lean forward to catch it. His brain grappled with the words, not comprehending.

Buster Keaton isn’t going to make any more pictures.

That’s what Joe had said. 

He sat back in stunned silence as Joe continued. 

“No, no,” said Joe. “That didn’t come out right. What I mean, Buster, is that you’re not going to make any more pictures for me. I’m dissolving the studio.”

“Why?” Buster managed to say. His lips felt tight and dry. 

“Now I don’t want you to worry,” Joe said, holding up a hand in a benevolent way. “I’ve gotten it all straightened out. You’re going over to M-G-M. That’s where Nick is. He’ll take great care of you. Look, I know it’s not what you want, but just think about it for a minute. You’ll have ten times the opportunities. A whole staff of writers working for you, helping you with cutting and production and stories. The money’s bigger. The pictures will be better. You can’t lose, it’s a chance of a lifetime.”

Buster couldn’t make his mouth work. Joe was now waxing poetic about the settlement Buster would be getting for his interests in the studio. The studio? His studio. Buster Keaton Productions. Five thousand dollars for eight years of making millions for Joe, and now he was finding out in the worst possible that he didn’t have the power in his own enterprise that he thought he did.

“Nick will treat you just like his own son. I’m telling you, you’ve got nothing to worry about.” Joe was more animated now as he reviewed the details. It was clear that he had been chewing on this decision for a while now and there was no appealing it.  

Buster listened on in disbelief. An image was crystalizing in his mind of a theater trunk sitting in an alley, left behind and forgotten. He’d felt exactly the same way the day he’d split up The Three Keatons. 

He didn’t remember what he said to Joe before leaving the office. He didn’t even remember leaving the office. He just found himself walking east on Romaine Street toward 1025 Lillian Way. His thoughts couldn’t seem to coalesce. He supposed he was in shock. Part of him wanted to think that it was all a dirty joke, but Joe—Joe, who attended the Sunday barbecues at the Villa faithfully, who had been so worried for Buster when he’d returned from France that he’d emptied his wallet for him, who’d lent Buster money to buy his first house—had never been that kind of man when it came to serious matters. Buster was torn between wanting a stiff drink and wanting to jump off a bridge. 

He did neither, of course. Back at Lillian Way, there was a film to finish. He now knew what the crowning gag would be. Tomorrow, the Saphead Would Face Down Certain Death. Whether he survived, he didn’t much care at the moment. *** Nelly had never worked on a Sunday before, but the Sunday before Labor Day was the final day of shooting and she couldn’t object even if she wanted to. Of course she didn’t want to. She’d been with the picture from almost the first and couldn’t think of a greater honor than finishing it out. The other actors and much of the crew had departed since they’d left Sacramento, and now it was just her, Bert, Buster, and a skeleton crew. A small set had been built on the United Artists lot and she was presently furnishing a small two-story house. The second story needed only to be filled with boxes, but the main floor required homey touches, so she and Bert arranged a rug, a sofa, a chair, and pictures on the wall. She set a lamp on a table in the center of the room. The house had a breakaway facade that was lying face-down in the dirt, but had hinges enabling it to be drawn up. 

As she decided whether a fringed floor lamp should go to the left or right of the sofa, Buster and one of the crew walked up. They both got on top of the flat facade and she watched, pretending to be busy with the lamp, as Buster stood in the frame of an open second-story window and looked to the top of the house. She positioned the lamp to the left of the sofa and slid the cord under it and out of sight. When she glanced at Buster again, he was hammering a nail into the dirt inside the window frame. She couldn’t imagine what he was doing. Plumping one of the throw pillows on the sofa, she looked again. He was hammering a second nail. “This’ll do it,” he said to the crewmember.

Bert came through the back door of the house with an armful of curtains as Buster and the crewmember walked away. 

“What’s he doing?” Nelly said to him under her breath.

“Buster?” said Bert, sounding a little out of breath as he dumped the curtains on the sofa. “Figuring out where to stand. The facade’s gonna come down right on top of him. Except he ends up in the window and doesn’t get hurt.”

“On top of him?” said Nelly, her innards seeming to go cold. The breakaway facades weighed a ton. The crew and cast had been warned to stay well away from them when the previous breakaway scenes were filmed, since getting caught underneath one would spell catastrophe.

“That’s right,” said Bert. “It was just supposed to fall down near him, scare him a little bit, then he’d run toward another building and it would fall down too, but he got the idea to have the window pass over him last night he said.” Bert didn’t seem to be at all perturbed by the nature of the stunt as he set to hanging a curtain.

“He’s going to get killed!” Nelly said, rooted to the spot. “That facade has to weigh at least a ton.”

“Two tons,” Bert said, walking across the room and pulling down another curtain rod. He eased a curtain onto it.

Nelly felt panicked. “He’s crazy. He’ll get killed. Has anyone tried talking him out of it?”

Bert laughed. “You think anyone has ever talked Buster Keaton out of anything once he’s got an idea in his head?”

“He’ll be killed,” she said. She was starting to feel almost hysterical. 

“Trust Buster,” Bert said, stretching up to hang the curtain on his tiptoes. “He’s always fine.” Nelly sat down on the couch, trying to calm her thoughts. Bert was probably right, but suppose …

All of her supposes, like the hinges failing or a wind machine shifting the facade just inches in either direction, ended up with Buster crushed to death. Bert walked back out the back door and she barely noticed. She tried to think of some way to stop the maddening act, but couldn’t. She didn’t know Buster as well as Bert, but she knew Bert was right. Nothing stopped Buster once he was set on something.

“Better move, sweetheart, we don’t want you in the scene.” She looked up and Buster was at the corner of the house peering in at her. 

It was her chance to beg him to reconsider, to throw herself on him, scream, and rend his clothes. Instead, she apologized and let herself out the back door. There was nothing that causing a ruckus would do except delay filming and possibly get her kicked off the set, spoiling her future chances of working for the Buster Keaton Studios. The facade gave a titanic creaking as it was eased back into place. Outside of the set, a couple crew members were wetting the dirt in front of the house with a hose so that it was slick and muddy as if from a cyclone. Nelly made her way toward some other crew members clustered off-camera to the right of the house. As she got closer, she noticed they were huddled in a funny way. 

“...hallowed be thy name

Thy kingdom come, thy will be done

On earth as it is in heaven.”

They were praying. The realization almost made her sick to her stomach. She didn’t go in for religion, but as she stopped in their midst, she made the decision to join them. If there was any chance the prayer would spare Buster, it was worth it. The ending lines had a foreboding potency they’d never had before.

“But deliver us from evil

Now and at the hour of our death.”

The hour of our death. She looked up and saw Buster a few feet from them, looking placid in his baggy pants and suspenders. Was she seeing a man in the final hour of his life? If she had any sense, she’d leave. There was no reason to watch this. Yet she felt duty-bound to stay. A superstition said that maybe it would help preserve him from the stunt going wrong. 

She watched Buster helplessly as the minutes went by and the final preparations were made to the set and the cameras. The wind machines were turned on and Buster walked in front of the house. He went down to his knees and sprawled out flat onto his chest in the mud.

“What’s he doing?” she said to one of the electricians.

“Continuity,” the electrician replied. “He was muddy in the scene we shot yesterday.”

The cameraman yelled something she didn’t hear and Buster walked in front of the house. He faced one of the cameras. Nelly felt almost light-headed. What if the wind had blown the nails out of place? What if—

Buster rubbed the back of his neck and rolled his jaw. The house’s machinery groaned and the facade heaved forward. At the last second, she turned her head. There was a gut-wrenching thud as the facade landed. Tears sprang into her eyes. 

After an interminable second or so, a roar went up from the men around her and they began to clap. She looked back. Through the glaze of her tears, she could just make out Buster, still rubbing his neck and rolling his jaw nonchalantly. A great cloud of dust had sprung up. Buster pretended to suddenly realize what had just happened and dashed out of the ruined facade, stopping once at a safe distance to stare at the house in terror. 

“Cut!” shouted the cameraman over the wind.

The group of men headed toward Buster at a clip. There were hoots and handshakes and claps on the back, and Buster was grinning. Nelly shielded her face with her hand and cried, overcome with relief. She still felt weak and sick. 

“Why are you crying?” said Buster.

He had crept up without her noticing. She turned her face away quickly, shaking her head. “Because you’re a damned idiot!” she said, not caring now whether speaking her mind would ruin her chances of staying on with him. “You had no business doing that.”

Buster touched her shoulder. “Look, I’m okay, ain’t I?”

She shied away. “No gag is worth your life,” she said. 

Buster looked surprised. His hand fell from her shoulder. “Okay.”

He left to go talk to the second cameraman and Nelly stole away, tears still coming, feeling downright dreadful. She wished she hadn’t stayed on for the final day of filming. It hadn’t been the celebratory end she’d expected. It had been awful, like seeing a man trying to commit suicide but by a miracle failing. Note: The dialogue with Joe Schenck is adapted from Rudi Blesh’s biography.

[thisisgonnafuxkinkillme]

Hii! Could you write a one or two chaptered fanfic on Bakugou x Mina? Scenarios: she is drunk and he takes care of her/ she pushes him out of the way and gets injured instead/ she starts flirting as a joke but then he flirts back and oh god does she like it and kisses him.

Absolutely!

Bubblegum 

A Bakugou x Mina Drabble

Warnings: alcohol use, cursing

Chapter 1...........

They weren’t friends. Well, they weren’t exactly not friends, either. Mina always found friends, whether she wanted to find them or not.

To her, a stranger was just a friend she hadn’t met yet. 

And that was sort of how she viewed the spiky blond who sat in front of her in class. 

He didn’t talk much. When he did speak, he could be heard throughout the whole damn school building, and it was usually because Kirishima had pulled a dumb prank on him. 

Mina often held back her giggles, not wanting to upset him further, but one day she made a fatal mistake of chuckling to herself.

“Do ya fuckin’ think this is funny?” he growled, glaring down at her. She straighened her back, cocking an eyebrow.

“Sure do!” she smiled sweetly. He huffed, sitting back down, to the suprise of literally everyone who noticed.

Usually, Bakugo would have spat and sputtered at the comeback, but this time, he simply backed down. That just wasn’t like him.

What Mina never knew was how her attitude completely broke him. Fuck, he wished that he could get along with people like she did. She didn’t even have to try; all she had to do was be her happy go lucky self and people just...flocked to her. 

Even him.

He hated to admit defeat, and rarely did, if ever. But he couldn’t deny that he definately had a crush on the bubblegum pink girl. 

He just wished he knew how to tell her. 

Could he even tell her?

Friday Night, weeks later........

Denki’s parents were out of town, and being the crackhead that he is, threw a spontaneous party at his house. Of course, everyone in class 1A was invited. Mina was one of the first people to show up, and she helped get the snacks and drinks together. 

Sero giggled as he walked into the kitchen, a bag in his hand. It was clinking, as if it were filled with glass bottles.

“Whatcha got there?” she inquired, pointing towards the mysterious bag.

He stopped laughing for a moment, flashing Denki a confused look. 

“Uhh, I thought it was just gonna be the boys, man. Can...we even trust her?” Sero asked, gesturing towards her.

“Hey! I’m right here, you know! And yeah, you can trust me. Come on, you gotta tell me what it is now!” She frowned, crossing her arms. Sero sighed, pulling out the bottles.  Alcohol.

She stared wide eyed, but excited. She’d never drank anything before, but it sure did look fun! She took a bottle of clear liquid in her hand, opening it up.

“Whoa, there! You won’t like it like that!” Denki warned. She pouted, closing it back. 

“Well, fine then. I’m gonna make a punch or something then. Should I make some for everyone or?” she asked, grabbing what she needed from the cupboards. 

“uh...sure. Just don’t tell Midoriya, he’s definately a little snitch,” Sero mumbled.

“Ya think so?” she asked, standing up on the counter to reach for some sugar.

--------------------------------

The punch bowl was the centerpiece of the table. People came in and out, grabbing a cupful for themselves or a friend. Mina was on her third glass by the time everyone showed up. 

Bakugo, on the other hand, skipped on the punch. He was content with sitting himself in a corner, nodding to the music and stealing glances at Mina. She didn’t even notice. She was much too busy laughing at tiktoks with Uraraka. 

He sighed, sipping on a glass of soda. 

Soon, the party began to wind down as the punch kicked in. Some people retreated to the bedrooms (for various reasons), while others crashed on the couch or on the floor.

Bakugo turned the music down as he stood up. He got into a semi-heated debate with a drunken Sero about something stupid, and lost track of Mina. He shrugged it off. Maybe she just went home. 

He headed upstairs to the bathroom to take a quick piss before heading back to his dorm. He didn’t feel like cleaning up after the people who carelessly threw their trash on the floor, and he didn’t care to babysit anyone who got too drunk to stand. 

As he approached the door, he heard something.

Someone was in there, retching and lightly crying. 

Usually in situations like this, he would’ve just minded his business and walked away. 

But his gut told him that he just...couldn’t do that. Not this time.

He gently knocked on the door. No response. He went ahead and tried to open it. To his suprise, it was unlocked.

His eyes widened as he realized who it was behind that door. 

Mina.

Her makeup was ruined, running down her cheeks in streaks. She wiped her mouth quickly as she noticed him walk in.

He didn’t say anything. He just stared for a moment.

She slurred, “Do you...do ya think this is fucking funny? huh?” 

He shook his head.

She began to cry again, covering her face. He grabbed a washcloth, wetting it under icy cold water in the sink before placing it on the back of her neck. She flinched at the sudden sensation.

“How much did’ja have to drink?”

“6,” she muttered, hovering over the toilet bowl.

“Dumbass...” he scoffed, rubbing her back. 

She heaved, emptying the contents of her stomach into the toilet. She groaned, holding her stomach.

“It’ll go away...just...” he tried his best to comfort her, but he genuinely did not know how to. 

“shut up. just...ugh!” she spat, sitting up. He backed away from her a little bit. She glared at him, gritting her teeth. The rag was thrown across the bathroom, hitting the wall with a smack.

“I’m just tryna fuckin help you? What’s your problem?” He spat. She stood up. Moonlight shined on her back through the large frosted window that faced beautiful woods. 

“m-m...my problem? you...ya...you’ve gotta be kidding, right?” she stammered out. Her knees shook and her stomach churned from the pressure of her standing up, but she didn’t care.

“You...you’re the one with the fuckin issues here, you weirdo...why do you even want....wanna help me?? You hate me!” she yelled. Tears pricked at the back of her eyes.

“Mina...I...I don’t...” Bakugo argued, taking a step towards her. She took a step back.

“Get...go away...” she warned. 

Bakugo took another step, trying to get her away from the window. 

But it was too late. 

The floor was wet and slick, and she was barely able to stand as it was.  Those two factors mixed together meant that she lost her footing. Fast.

Her petite body crashed through the window backwards. Shattered glass rained down to earth as she screamed. Luckily, Uraraka and Hatsume were on their way out of the house and towards their uber when she was falling. Uraraka wasn’t able to stop her fall, as she hadn’t touched her before it happened. The two girls sreamed, rushing towards Mina and hurridly calling 911. Hatsume looked up to see Bakugo at the window.

He could only stare down at her limp body, wide eyed and in shock. 

“This is just too far! Why? Why?!” Hatsume screeched. Uraraka couldn’t even bring herself to look at him.

---------------------

When Mina woke up, she was surrounded by all of her closest friends. 

Everyone was throwing questions at her. A police officer stood in the corner, notebook in hand.

“Did he do it on purpose?” asked one person.

Another questioned, “Was he drunk?”

“Is this the first time he’s hit you?” a third quizzed.

She answered none of these questions. All she could do was stare at the ceiling in silence.

“Where is he?” she asked, her voice stoic and monotone. Everyone was silent at that. 

“He’s...not here.” Uraraka answered finally. Mina nodded, wiping away a stray tear. 

“Thanks for showing up, guys...but, can you give me some time? Please?” she requested meekly. 

“I’ll buy lunch,” Tenya offered, breaking the silence that filled the room. 

Soon, Mina was alone. 

She sighed, inspecting the room she was in. White. Sterile. Boring. All except for a lovely boquet sat on the table next to her bed. She picked it up, looking at each flower. Most were pink, matching her skin, but others were yellow and orange. She smiled at the cute colors. 

She turned the vase around, not seeing any note or indication of who they were from.

“Like em?” a voice asked from the doorway. Mina jumped, looking up. 

It was Bakugo. 

“Yeah,” is all she could manage to say. She cursed herself for not saying some nasty comback. 

He approached the bed, sitting gently on the edge. He was silent for a good while, looking at the floor.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t tell the cops that you pushed me out of the window or anything,” she scowled, placing the vase back onto the table and crossing her arms. 

He shook his head, sighing deeply. 

“Thats...not it...” 

She scoffed. 

“You hate me, don’t you?” Bakugo spat. 

“What?” 

“Just be honest with me. Please.” 

She sat, wideeyed and dumbfounded for a good few seconds. She always thought he was the one who hated her. 

“I...” she scrunched up her face, thinking of what to say. 

But she knew words wouldn’t cut it at this point. 

She sat up in the bed. He looked over at her as she leaned forward, gently taking his cheek in her hand.

His face began to heat up. He looked away.  However, his attention was brought back to her when she placed her other hand on his cheek and brought him in for a kiss.

[fckinsupreme]

Camp redwood opens again in 2020 and it just so happens that a certain counsellor catches Xavier's eye, so much so he might not want to let her go. The only thing that's sparked any sort of emotion other than longing for almost 40 years..

There she goes again. Walking along as if she didn’t know what was doing to him, her hips swaying, her eyes cast straight ahead instead of where he was standing. She had been on Xavier’s radar from the moment she arrived, the crew arriving several days early to help prepare for the grand reopening of Camp Redwood. There was a lot to clean up and a lot to do, and Xavier couldn’t help but feel a strong sense of deja-vu. But hopefully now, with Margaret’s ghost in check and Jingles & Ramirez no longer terrorizing anyone, it would be different than his own experience.

Y/N was the hottest of the counselors, without question. As was the case with his own group, most counselors were male, with Y/N being one of three girls. The other girls weren’t Xavier’s type, and he gave them as little thought as he would the ground beneath his feet. But Y/N…she was /the one/. They met the first night she arrived, after he caught her lurking around the woods in search of her hook-up—a burly counselor with a small dick and an even smaller, more fragile ego. Xavier made sure it didn’t happen, inviting her to the dock to watch the ducks in the moonlight. She hadn’t a clue who he was, had no idea that he was a victim in the 1984 massacre and was now a spirit tethered to the land for eternity. Maybe she would run away screaming if she knew, although she didn’t seem the type. Or maybe she would steer clear of him and never want to associate with him for the entirety of the summer.

But goddammit, he felt something for her. He had to have her; she was the /only/ thing that made him feel anything in the last thirty-six years. Ever since he died, all there had been was sadness, anger, bitterness, darkness. Seeing her, listening to that adorable laugh, witnessing the beautiful smile on her lips that he had caused, made him feel happy and like he was /alive/ again.

The way he saw it, she was the beauty and he was the beast. He wasn’t going to stay away, though. Quite the contrary, he was going to /get her/, no matter what it took. He knew summer would end too quickly and he would likely never see her again, and the thought filled him with such dread and rage that it almost consumed him. He couldn’t let it happen. He couldn’t let her just get away from him. It was still so early, he could get to her and see if she would fall for him enough to stay here with him forever. But no, that was foolish; surely she had family, people who would miss her. Xavier didn’t have that luxury, since his friends were the only people he had and they had died here with him.

But Y/N would have him, if no one else.

He watches her as she reaches the dock, scanning the water for any signs of the other counselors. He observes her form as she moves, the swell of her ass, the way her legs are bared in her shorts, her (h/c) hair blowing in the breeze. Xavier decides to come out of hiding when she makes her way back, stepping out into the path. She jumps when she sees him, her hand landing on her chest as she grins at him.

“You scared me to death,” she says, breathing in relief. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d come check on you,” Xavier says, taking a step closer to her. “See how you’re adjusting. The kids are coming tomorrow, I hear.”

“Yeah,” she replies, chuckling a bit. “Yeah, tomorrow morning. I’ve been going crazy, trying to find the others to get the last-minute preparations underway. They’re too occupied with sex and with the ghost stories to get anything done.”

Xavier’s blood runs cold, a heavy weight like lead in his stomach. “Ghost stories?”

“About the massacres,” she says. “The one in ‘70 and the other in ‘84. Plus, the other stuff that happened in ‘89.”

“Right,” Xavier says, swallowing thickly. “Yeah, yeah. I…Yeah.”

“Are you okay?” she asks with a frown. “You don’t look so good.”

“I’m okay,” he assures, backing you up against a thick tree. “I’ve never been better.”

She meets his eyes, and Xavier swears he can feel his heart jumping in his chest. Funny, considering that he wasn’t even alive and hadn’t felt such a thing in nearly forty years. He can’t look away, slowly leaning forward with his eyes on her lips. She doesn’t pull away or push him off, instead moving forward as well to meet him halfway. When their lips touch, it only solidifies the belief that Xavier can’t ever let her go. There was no way he was letting it happen. Sparks seem to shoot through his whole body, and he feels absolutely invincible. He feels as though he could just walk right out of this camp, to the world beyond, with its various changes and shitty music. None of that mattered to him, anyway; the only thing that did was right here, her lips against his and her arms wound around his shoulders.

He deepens the kiss, and is delighted to see that she does the same. She isn’t resisting, isn’t making some kind of excuse to leave. She wanted this every bit as much as he did, and he decides to try something just to see. As the kiss grows more hungry and messy, Xavier’s hand creeps under her tanktop to cradle her breast. She doesn’t stop him, instead moaning against his mouth as she presses his hand more firmly against her skin.

“Shit,” she gasps, her head tipped against the tree as he rolls the nipple between his fingers. “Xavier…”

“No bra?” he asks with an amused grin. “You’re brave.”

“I was gonna—fucking /God/,” she moans, Xavier’s fingers rubbing the nipple in slow, featherlight circles.

“Gonna what?” he asks smugly. “I didn’t catch that last part.”

“Doesn’t matter now,” she says, yanking him down for a harder, more passionate kiss as both of his hands rest over her tits.

He doesn’t question her further. How could he now, when her tongue was swiping his in that needy way of hers? Her nipples were hard and erect under his palms, and he could feel his dick growing harder with every little pant she made, every little rut of her body, every swipe of her tongue. He tugs her shirt up, and she helps him take it off. It lands in a nearby bush, scaring away a bird that was perched there. It flies off, chirping angrily, taking refuge in a distant tree.

“We’re gonna get caught out here,” she pants when he pulls back to kiss over her soft neck. She smells like flowers and candy, her pulse beating against his lips as he kisses along her carotid. “I could lose my job.”

“We won’t get caught,” Xavier promises, his hand plunging inside of her shorts, two fingers gliding along the front of her panties as she groans hotly. “And if we do, would that be so bad? Your boss doesn’t seem like that much of a hard-ass. Not like m—“

He catches himself, but luckily, she didn’t seem to notice the near slip-up. He moves down to her breasts, pushing them together as he massages his tongue along her nipples. Her hand grips his hair in a tight hold, a beautiful moan spilling from her mouth as he pulls one nipple between his lips. He sucks slowly at first, before gradually going faster, his tongue swirling in rapid circles. She’s looking at him, lust in her eyes as she gets even wetter against his fingers.

“You’re soaked,” he remarks, dropping to his knees in front of her as he tugs her shorts down. “Can I taste you?”

“Please, fuck,” she begs, the sweetest sounds pouring from her lips as his tongue makes contact with her pussy. “/Xavier—/“

“Keep saying my name just fucking like that,” he says. “Fuck, you’re so hot when you say it. Do it again.”

“Xavier,” she whimpers, his fingers spreading her lips as he dives further into her cunt.

Her smell, her taste, makes him absolutely dizzy with emotion, so much that he doesn’t even know what he’s feeling. He didn’t feel this overwhelmed when he was still among the living, so how did this girl, this gorgeous stranger, have this kind of effect on him? He didn’t know, nor did he care to break down the mechanics right now. He was too focused on her, on her amazing, unique taste that coated his tongue with every swipe over her swollen labia. She was loving it, moaning her appreciation with every move he made. He sucks her clit between his lips, his tongue against it as he gives his head a few rapid shakes.

“God fucking dammit,” she whines, her gaze on him as she plays with her tits. “You’re too good at that.”

“Mmm, I know, babe,” he says, sucking on her left lip before flicking his tongue around her entrance.

He keeps it up for several more minutes, until she’s cumming with so much force that her legs nearly give out. He lies her down upon the earth and claims her, fucking her nice and slow when she expresses her desire for him. Her consent only drove him crazier with need, knowing that she truly did want him just as badly as he was wanted her. She’s a goddess, his own Aphrodite, her body so warm and so inviting for him. Her cunt is so tight, so wet, so /perfect/, her face twisted in pleasure as her hands travel all over his body. He wonders if his own is cold, stiff, something so disconcerting that she begins to question it. But if he is, she doesn’t seem to care or pay any mind; he isn’t sure if he’s relieved or disappointed by that.

He kisses her with fervor, conveying every ounce of passion for her into that one small action. He knows even a kiss would never be enough, not even intimacy on this level would be. He wants her like this for all time, wants her body and her soul and everything in between. How could he even turn his back on her? How could he let her get away?

He had to tell her the truth.

It was a realization so sudden and so horrid that he almost stops fucking her right there. Instead he increases the speed & force of his thrusts, throwing her legs over his waist so that he can pound directly into her G-spot. This brings a whole new slew of responses from her, her mouth open in a perfect O-shape, her nails tearing at his skin, drawing blood from shallow scratches that would soon heal before she ever noticed. The noises she made cause his cock to twitch, and he knows he’s dangerously close.

“Y/N,” he pants. “Cum with me, baby.”

He kisses over her neck and collarbones, her eyes squeezed shut as he leaves hickey after hickey on her skin. She cums at the same time he does, their names echoing through the woods, the sweet sounds they both made more melodic than birdsong. He can’t pull out yet, still connected to her, not wanting this moment to end. Not wanting her to leave him when the truth spilled from his kiss-swollen, saliva-coated lips.

“Y/N…” he gasps, his forehead pressed to hers as he tries not to cry. “There’s…There’s something I need to tell you.”

—

Baby tags: @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @angel-langdon @my-thoughts-and-prayers @thorohdamnson @lvngdvns @leatherduncan @xavierplym @mrsplympton @xavierplymptons @littlegirlsdontplaynice @xaviersghost @codyfernmorelikedaddyfern @wickedlangdon @melodylangdon