#i associate studying with dead boyfriend so I can’t study without thinking of him and I can’t study when I think about him so

[nerefee]

in a last desperate ditch effort I signed up for a course on ancient greek to resuscitate my love for studying

[bokunosimpfiction]

Yandere!Heisenberg x Reader Pt 3

A/N: Since y’all demanded a plot that’s what you’ll get. Will it be good? No. I’ve never written anything with a plot in my entire life. Ever. Not even when I did Nanowrimo or whatever. I just bullshitted the whole thing. Like I’ll do with this fic. Y’all are going to have to remind me to update because I have the attention span of a goat. I’ll try to update this on Saturdays??? IDK at this point. ALSO, WHY THE FUCK IS THIS SO POPULAR?????????? DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY NOTES THIS HAS ON AO3???? 69????SIXITY FUCKING NINE??? I HATE EVERYTHING MY LEGACY WILL BE READER CALLING HEISENBERG DOOFSCHMIRTZ I HATE EVRYTHING DSHFUGSADFJ

Synopsis: You have totally, %100, given up on escaping. Totally. You haven't been gathering supplies for one, final last hurray. Nope. Totally not. All you have to do is persuade Heisenberg of that so you can change your mind at the last minute. Y’all know the trigger warning for this series but if you don’t tw:kidnapping (implied)

Taglist: it’s exclusivly @localdepressedvampire​  so if you want to be on it for just this story or for all my pieces fill out the google doc in my pinned post or dm me and I’ll put you on it. :)

             You’ve made a breakthrough in your long-term plan of escapism. Even with the mini escape attempts that were really about exploring the factory and less about actually trying to get out, you hadn’t made a lot of progress: until now.

             Well, two, really… Okay, maybe 1 ½. Firstly, you found a sawed-off two-barrel shotgun. With ammo. In fact, there was a various amount of ammo around the factory, but no actual gun. Until now. The second discovery, which is nowhere near as useful, was a window. Which was probably 50 or more feet up from the ground. You didn’t get a chance to inspect it that much, considering as soon as you saw it and got a glimpse at the far-off ground, you had to run again from Lycans.

             Which gives you a basic idea of a way to escape. You knew where the ammo was, you knew where the gun was and had a route to the edge of the building, and hopefully could find stairs at the end of the hallway. Now all you had to do was find a time where you could be gone long enough to get a decent head start before, he notices you’re even gone. Even when he was in the workshop, he kept a close eye on you, keeping you in arms-length to the point where it taxed on both of your mental health.

             And even then, in that chair in the small room, you watch him work in the finer details on something the size of your head and torso. You try not to look at the phone in your lap, he doesn’t even know you have it, much less how great the reception is in the building. How did he not know about his old phone that was still working fine? Oh well, he doesn’t need to know you’re looking at memes and reading feel-good wolf-star fanfic on ao3.

             The best idea you had was to leave him while he was asleep, but there were two some issues with that: he clung to you like his life depended on it, your back to his chest and arms around you almost tight enough to keep you awake; it was dark as hell in the hallways of the factory as is, but it would be impossible to navigate safely with the lights; and the Lycans were most active outside at night, which was where you were trying to go. They’ve tried to eat you before as they show no discrimination on food.

             The only way to get a good enough head start would be to leave while he didn’t notice you were gone, and wouldn’t notice for a long, long time. And that when it hit you. The only time he ever left you by yourself was when he had to deal with the other three lords. And while he left you in that basement that you originally woke up in, you had memorized your way out and found that going up five flights of stairs took you to that faithful widow.

             Would you have enough time to explore and look for an actual exit/entrance, or should you play it safe and find a way to go out that window. You wanted to laugh to yourself, you’d never think that going down a 50ft plus drop would be considered safe, but here you were, kidnapped and held hostage by one of the people your late grandmother warned you not to associate with, or even go near. The letter you received directly quoted “the four lords and their mother, Mother Miranda, are not to be approached or associated with at any costs. You’ll know them when you see them, they smell like death and money. See them and run.”

             You can’t help but find that ironic, considering that you did try to run, heeded her warning, and still faced the consequences that were far worse than she had warned you about. You regretted coming here, to this small village, when you first arrived: no friends, and even those you tried to approach held you to her standard and expected them to be just like her. You were far from her kind and optimistic nature (at least that’s what you heard of her; you hadn’t even known of her whereabouts until she was dead).

             Even the duke, who had helped smuggle you into the village, didn’t seem fond of you. It was a shame, you tried so hard to impress him. But he saw you to a point where you could easily reach her old cottage without having too many issues, turned his cart around, and left without a good-bye. It bothered you to no end that your only companion for about a year or so was an elderly outside cat and the creaking noises the walls made at night.

             And then the cat died and not even a week later you got kidnapped. You never considered yourself lucky, but damn if that wasn’t the worst streak of luck you’ve had in a long time.

             You pretend to turn a page in your book and scroll through your Instagram feed, seeing friends having fun at the beach, or studying at the library, or your old best friend taking selfies in provocative clothing to your ex-boyfriend. Did she forget he cheated on you? She wasn’t always the smartest, but she brought that heartbreak upon herself. You see a photo of your mom, she had posted a picture of a black and white photo of her with her mom, you’re guessing, you have no idea who that old woman is.

             This is the last photo I had with my mom before she died. We lost contact after I moved out. I wish we parted on better terms, Nana.

             She’s in a prairie dress, holding an ancient-looking key in one hand, and the other wrapped around her mom, a middle-aged woman with long hair in two braids and a face that had too many stress wrinkles. You guess your mom was as bad as you were in college. The background looks dreary. You would have guessed it to be the quality of the photo if you hadn’t recognized the house behind them as the house you lived in used to live in.

             The loops on the handle of the key look familiar. You spread your fingers apart to zoom in and see the blurry engravings on the side. It was the payment you gave to sneak into the village. You thought it was a worthless family heirloom at most and found it strange that he had even found interest in the key, or even valued it deeper than money in general. Maybe this photo or other photos of you and your family would help out.

             Why is that key suddenly piquing your interest? Were you that bored, as to sit there and think about a key that was at least twice your age? A key that you didn’t even have. You needed a hobby besides escapism and rejecting your captor’s sexual advances. You look up at him again, only to find him leaning against the desk, hat off and sunglass placed on his forehead, his gaze on you. It wasn’t his normal piercing one, that studied you and calculated your every move, but soft and lazy. His current gaze was dreamy; he was daydreaming about you. You found that equally undaring s it was unnerving.

             “Karl.”

             “Yes, Sweetiepea?” Honestly, what the fuck.

             “Firstly, why are you staring at me like that? Secondly, that is the most disgusting way to use that pet name. I need to take a shower after you called me that.”

             He chuckles light-heartedly. Even his softer more genuine, happy chuckles are booming and loud. “Okay… Sugarplum!” And he busts out laughing.

             Clearly dodging the first question and focusing on the second. You can’t believe you gave him ammo for his annoying-you-gun. And you thought you’d grown immune to most of his… less-savory traits. Were you growing used to him? Next thing you know you’re going to like him and develop Stockholm syndrome!

             “You’re a shit head, hobo magneto…” You turn your head away and let your hair cover half your face so he can’t see you smile. You’ll miss him when you escape and get the duke to smuggle you back to your home in Bucharest. But only a little. Just because calling Heisenberg these names are funny.

             “Why don’t you call me by my name, I know you know it.”

             “You sure about that?” You quip back.

             “You’ve lived with me for at least two months now!”

             “Hm…. I think I know your name! It’s uh…” You are totally faking not knowing his name. “It’s… Heidi Carlson? Yeah, that sounds about right!”

             “It’s Karl Heisenberg!”

             “Quit being so silly, Heidi! Maybe it’s nap-time!” This was a little too fun.

             He looks back at his project for a moment and genuinely considers it. “I know you’re being antagonistic but you’re probably right.” And with that, he walks towards you and goes to scoop you up. You have to shut your book quickly in order for him not to notice the phone in between its pages before you let him pick you up.

             He immediately notices that. “Are… Are you sick?”

             “No! Of course not!” Because you genuinely aren’t sick, and he’s already up in your business as-is, you don’t need him dotting on you because he thinks you’re sick or something. You’ll go fucking crazy.

             “You’ve put in zero effort into anything remotely physical since your last little failed escape attempt.” He gave it a little bit of thought. “You’ve given up, haven’t you, and you’re just depressed about it aren’t you?”

             You want to say no, you really do, but if Heisenberg thinks you’ve given up on escaping, perhaps it’ll give you enough space to plan the big one. The reverse heist so to speak. “No- I… okay maybe I have but I still don’t like you.

             He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Good girl. Now let’s get us that well-deserved nap.”

             You plug your nose and turn away as a joke. “You’ve gotta take a bath first, you smell like oil and sweat.” You don’t fight it, because you have to play the part, but you still have to act a little bit like yourself.

             “Okay, fine doll, but don’t think you’ve escaped my barrage of affection, because as soon as I get out of the shower-“

             You bonk him. And he looks at you so confused before he smiles and leans down to nuzzle his nose against yours. You try to hold the bile back in your mouth and lean forward and peck his lips before leaning back. You failed at trying to not visibly gag.

             “Ew… I can’t believe I just kissed you.”

             “Well, I guess someone caught feelings… Didn’t they?”

[chvrliesapcet]

ever since olivia rodrigo released her debut album, SOUR, i have been listening to it on repeat (totally not kidding). so, after seeing a girl on tiktok do something like this, but with the avengers, i was inspired to make this post. there you go:

the poets as olivia rodrigo’s songs.

trigger warning: mention of su*c*de and mental health issues.

brutal: all of them. they’re teenagers, insecure sometimes, trying their best, but sadly not living the teenage dream (what is it, that fucking teenage dream, anyway?). “if someone tells me one more time "enjoy your youth, " i’m gonna cry” and they can’t quit what they’re doing, because their parents would most likely be hurt. “and they'd all be so disappointed 'cause who am if, if not exploited?” they once recited the lyrics of this song as a poem, during one of their meetings, and they were all laughing their asses off. life at hell-ton is brutal, what can i say?

traitor: knox, of course. “god i wish that you had thought this through, before i went and fell in love with you” or “guess you didn’t cheat, but you’re still a traitor” just hit different for him. he thinks about chris when he listens to this song, that’s for sure..! we can’t really blame chris for knox falling in love with her though,, sorry buddy.

drivers license: knox, again. poor boy listens to this song while riding his bike, crying his eyes out. “but today i drove through the suburbs, crying 'cause you weren't around” chris isn’t with that blonde girl, she is that blonde girl. knox has never felt this way for no one, and it’s hard for him to imagine that chris is, well, doing okay without him. he thinks and talks about her all the time. “and all my friends are tired of hearing how much i miss you, but i kinda feel sorry for them 'cause they'll never know you the way that i do”

1 step forward, 3 steps back: todd. like many people (including me!) when he listens to this song, he doesn’t necessarily think of a past relationship (mostly because he has never dated anyone before neil). he thinks of his mental health struggles, such as his anxiety, instead. it’s hard, sometimes. he thinks he’s getting better, but then realizes he isn’t.. “got me fucked up in the head, boy. never doubted myself so much. like am i pretty, am i fun boy? i hate that i gave you power over that kinda stuff” need i say more? this song is as soft, but as sad, as he is.

deja vu: keating. this is.. kind of a joke, but only because i didn’t know who to pair this song with. john was an original member of the dead poets society, and knowing that now, other teenage boys are taking turns reading poetry, in the old indian cave, reminds him of his teenage years. “so when you gonna tell her that we did that, too? she thinks it's special, but it's all reused. that was our place, i found it first” olivia’s music isn’t the type of music he normally listens to, but after hearing students (the poets) talk about her album, during his class, he decided he’d give it a try. he likes it. he loves the lyrics, mostly.

good 4 u: CHARLIE. he loves screaming the lyrics to this song. especially the bridge and the last chorus. “LIKE A DAMN SOCIOPATH!” cameron has to beg him to turn the volume down,, he doesn’t listen to him, obviously, and instead turns the volume up. his argument? ‘this song is meant to be played loud!’ to which cameron responds ‘but not that loud! i’m trying to study!’ he thinks looking at his roommate directly in the eye when singing “baby, what the fuck is up with that?” exactly the way olivia does is funny. cameron just rolls his eyes every time, but it’s hard for him to hide the smile taking place on his lips.

enough for you: pitts. although he and stev/phen are both super, super smart, i think meeks is the ‘genius’ of the group. and that, can, sometimes, make pitts feel like he might not be good enough for his boyfriend, whom he loves very much. “and i knew how you took your coffee, and your favorite songs by heart. i read all of your self-help books so you'd think that i was smart” whenever he doubts himself, meeks is the first to reassure him and tell him he’s more than enough, but still.. “'cause all i ever wanted was to be enough for you” he listens to this song with his earphones, always, so no one knows he listens to it on repeat.

happier: meeks. ever since charlie got expelled, he can’t stop listening to this song. these two were pretty close, (“he flatters me, that’s why i help him with latin”) and stev/phen doesn’t like thinking about his friend being in a new school, and spending time with other people. “so find someone great but don't find no one better. i hope you're happy, but don't be happier” he wishes charlie would still be with them, at welton, even if he hated it. “your friends aren't mine, you know, i know. you’ve moved on, found someone new” or “does she mean you forgot about me?” he’s being a bit overdramatic, considering charlie comes to see the poets at least once a week, and still attends the dps meetings.. but anyway.

jealousy, jealousy: cameron, because, yes, he’s smart and everything, but he’s still jealous of other people, and wishes he were different. he thinks he should be like the other guys. “all i see, is what i should be, happier, prettier, jealousy, jealousy” he also thinks that, maybe then, people would like him more </3. he knows no one really hates him, but feels like no one really likes him, either. and in his opinion, it’s because he’s.. him. “I'm so sick of myself, i’d rather be, rather be, anyone, anyone else” just like mr. k, this type of music isn’t what he usually listens to, but he relates to this song so much, he can’t help but listen to it at least once a day.

favorite crime: neil. just like todd, he doesn’t associate this song with a relationship he had in the past. actually, he thinks of his father (and his mom, a bit, too) and all of the things his dad forces him to do, even if it upsets him. “those things i did, just so i could call you mine. the things you did, well, i hope i was your favorite crime” i know we don’t usually talk about the canon ending, but i have to. mr. perry didn’t want his son to pursue his dreams, and planned neil’s life for him, which made him feel so miserable, he sadly committed su*c*de.. but then, his dad wasn’t blamed for it, to preserve his reputation. “and i watched as you fled the scene, doe-eyed as you buried me, one heart broke, four hands bloody” todd knows this was neil’s favorite song. he listens to it once in a while, in their room, alone, and cries.

hope ur ok: all of them. do they know how proud i am they were created? after all they’ve been through, especially their family problems, i’m glad they found each other. “she was tired 'cause she was brought into a world where family was merely blood” and even when life throws bad things at them, they always stay strong, and support each other through everything. they’re very brave. “well, i hope you know how proud i am you were created, with the courage to unlearn all of their hatred” i love them, my beautiful poets <33

[imaginedxlan]

Champagne & Shackles; Beta Part Two (Fred Weasley)

a/n: i’m SORRY i’m terrible at time management, school is kicking me ass. i had no idea so many of you had the same affinity for the brothers of the beta fraternity as i do, this is for all my frat rats out there i love you most. this is an ode to my very favorite date party theme: champagne and shackles. in which you and you’re chad or brad of a date are candcuffed together until you finish a massive bottle of champagne between the two of you.

weeks after the infamous beta darty, you can’t seem to pull your thoughts or presence away from the ginger boy who made your heart skip a beat. That is, until you’re invited to the beta champagne and shackled date party.

y/f/n: your friend’s name

warnings: cussing, alcohol, mentions of sex, modern!fred, and also very typical frat boy lingo stolen straight from the mouths of frat boy i associate myself with

disclaimer: while they’re semi-drunk in this they’re still coherent and stable enough to know what they’re doing. nothing that happens in this is coercive or decided under an incapacitated mind. king freddie would never take advantage of a girl like that.

part one

consumed.

You have been completely consumed with the the thought of a certain red head for weeks now. Since you kissed him goodbye on your front lawn, the image of Fred Weasley has yet to leave your brain. While you’ve been at the same school for almost two years, you’ve seen him more in the few weeks following the beta darty than you have in the 18 months you’ve spent on campus. Lines in coffee shops, the terrace at the union, the corners of the library you’ve inhabited for years. He’s everywhere. Not that you’re complaining.

The grin that plays across his lips every time you catch his eye sends your heart into overdrive. You’ve spent countless nights awake in y/f/n’s bed analysing every text, every snapchat, every story. You replay the day in the beta backyard at least once a day, yearning for the feeling of his touch on your skin. You’ve hardly returned to the brick-faced mansion, however. You’ve of course been invited through Draco and the countless group messages that flood your phone the nights leading up to a beta party, but you want him to invite you. You want him to want you there.

Of course he wants you there. He spends hours in that filthy basement he calls home every weekend searching for you among the dozens of drunk girls, hoping you had decided to turn up this time. But you’re not there.

Y/f/n mentioned date party to you this past weekend. Draco being social chair of the fraternity, he’s been planning the function for weeks. Champagne and Shackles. A fan favorite among every sorority girl throughout the school. Mixing together handcuffs and a massive bottle of champagne would have nearly anyone begging for an invite. You decide not to get your hopes up, constantly reminding yourself that while he is the boy that made you feel like you were the only two people in the world while you were surrounded by hundreds of drunk college boys, he’s still a twenty year old beta boy. It’s hard to stray from the hook up culture that he’s been practically bred into. Nevertheless, there is still a glimmer of hope in you that you’ll be cuffed to him this Saturday night instead of another girl he’s probably found on greek row.

He’s been drafting this text in the notes app of his phone for three days now. He’s changed the wording, the punctuation and the amount of details in his intended invite to you one hundred times now. George and Oliver groan every time he stops their studying or game of Call of Duty to read them the revised text he’s come up with this time.

“My god, Weasley, you’re acting like you’re writing your vows.” Oliver jokes, setting his xbox controller down on the makeshift coffee table in the twins room. “Just send it, you know she’ll say yes.”

But that’s the problem, he doesn’t know that.

“Wood we’ve thrown six times in the past month, she’s come once.” Fred reminds him of the painful fact that it seems like you’re just not that into him. “If I was sure she was gonna say yes I would have done it by now.”

George snatches his twin’s phone from his hands, copying the now final draft of this overly thought out text asking you to his date party. Before Fred can spring up from his bed, George has already got the message pasted into Fred’s text chain with you and hit send, making the color drain from his twin’s face.

“Are you fucking serious, George.” Fred finally reaches his younger brother and tackles him to the ground. “I barely read through it she’s gonna think I’m a fucking weirdo.”

George is able to shake his brother off of him, bursting out laughing with Oliver at Fred’s crazed state. George knew Fred had feelings for you, well practically every who spoke to a drunk him for more that ten minutes knew, but it was still comical to see his twin get so worked up over a girl he hadn’t even slept with yet.

“Fred you’ve been reading the stupid thing for an hour now,” He points out, Oliver nods his head in agreement. “What’s the worst that could happen? Huh? She says no and you ask one of the eight hundred other girls who fawn over you every chance they get. I know you like her Freddie but this isn’t a life or death thing.”

As Fred caught his breath from his outburst, he knew George had a point. He wouldn’t drop dead if you rejected his offer, but it sure help like he would.

hey idk if you’ve heard but our date party is this saturday and i was wondering if you would want to come

Your phone lights up just as you sit down to eat dinner with a couple of your friends. Once you see the name fred weasley next to the notification your heart stops. Taking y/f/n’s hand in yours, you turn the screen so she can read it. Her lips turn up in a grin as she squeezes your hand.

“I told you he would ask you,” She squeals, shaking her shoulders in her little ‘happy dance’ as she likes to put it. “Draco won’t stop talking about how tweaked Weasley’s been over some stupid text. I knew it was about you, I just knew it.”

You laugh at her imitation of her boyfriend, knowing it’s not far off from how he actually sounds. You reread the text probably thirty times, feeling even more giddy over such a simple and honestly not very personal text, but you don’t care. He asked you.

You spend far less time crafting a response than Fred did writing the initial text to you. If what y/f/n said is true and he really mulled over this for days, you may pass out.

i’d love to :)

The love seemed a bit overboard in your opinion, but y/f/n convinced you that it was a perfect response. You didn’t allow yourself to start looking for possible dress options until he really asked you, afraid you might jinx it if you bought a dress prematurely. Now, however, you’re on a time crunch. Someone in the house had to have something you could borrow. That night you try on at least ten dresses, all the girls on your floor flooding your room gushing over the fact that the Fred Weasley is taking you to his date party. He’s someone nearly everyone knows, and if they didn’t they were probably a geed, or lived in sophomore slums.

You finally land on a dark blue, spaghetti strapped sequin dress that clung tight to your curves. While nearly every dress you tried on felt like it might work, this is champagne and shackles after all, you have to dress to impress. Y/f/n won’t stop talking about what Fred will do the minute he sees you in the dress, praying she gets to watch his jaw drop. The two of you stay up late into the night again mushing over the thought of the two of you being swept off your feet by beta boys, the same boys you could hardly think about a month ago without becoming nauseous.

pregames at the house, malfoy and i will come by yours to grab you and y/f/n at 6:30

The text comes in Friday night. You can hardly contain the bubbling feeling in your stomach. As much as you feel like you’re sixteen years old again, you don’t care. You’ve finally joined the ninety percent of girls on greek row in one category, you’re crushing on Fred Weasley.

As the day finally rolls around, Fred is surprisingly back to his calm and collected demeanor. As much as the boys, and to be honest he himself, expected him to be bouncing off the walls over a slew of what if’s regarding the night ahead of him, he was rather calm about it all. He’s one half of the coveted Weasley Twins after all, he has a reputation to uphold.

The same cannot be said for you. As you curl your hair and apply your makeup to perfection, you can’t stop your knee from bouncing under the vanity counter you’re sat in front of. What if he secretly thinks you look bad in your dress? That you look like you tried to hard? As much as y/f/n tried to remind you of the fact that he was the one nervous about asking you, nothing seems to ease your growing anxiety. The hours tick closer to six-thirty and you sit patiently on your bed, completely ready and aimlessly scrolling through your socials to keep your mind off of the fact that in only twenty minutes Fred and Draco would be at your door to take you back to beta. The actual date party would be at one of the satellite houses, the penthouse of a nearby apartment paid for by betas massive budget.

Y/f/n takes your hand and forces you to look at her.

“Y/n,” She begins, now holding both of your hands between hers. “You are the hottest bitch this campus has ever seen. No one, not even Fred Weasley, deserves to be blessed with the absolute vision you are right now, but I guess he’ll have to do.”

You laugh at her attempt to hype you up in ten hopes that the knots in your stomach fade away. They partially do, but part of you is still in shambles over the thought of seeing him. He probably looks like even more of a greek god in a suit. Y/f/n’s phone buzzes with an ever so poetic ‘here’ text from her boyfriend and she gives your hands one more squeeze before dragging you down the staircase of your house. The boys are waiting just beyond the lawn, the same one you kissed Fred on weeks ago. The two of them have their hands in their pockets, looking like they’re deep in conversation, not even noticing that you and y/f/n are standing walking toward them.

He’s wearing a dark gray suit with a white button down with the top three buttons undone. His hair is perfectly messy. You didn’t even think it was possible for him to get any hotter, but here he is.

The boys turn their heads and immediately stop their conversation. The blonde’s face turns up in a smirk as his eyes trail over y/f/n’s body, but Fred is standing perfectly still with his mouth slightly agape as he watches you come closer to him. His cool and collected affect quickly runs out of his body as he watches your dress glitter under the street light.

“Told you.” Y/f/n whispers in your ear before she drops your hand to meet her boyfriend.

Draco greets y/f/n with a kiss and Fred pulls you into a hug. You melt at his touch. Even in the heels you borrowed from y/f/n, he still towers over you, his chin resting on top of your head.

“You look...” Fred trails off, trying to find the words to describe the sight in front of him. Heavenly, goddess like, like he might just skip the date party and get down on one knee. “...incredible.”

You muster up whatever confidence you have in the midst of your imposing anxiety to give him a somewhat composed reply. “You don’t look half bad yourself, Weasley.”

That heart-melting, mind-scrambling smile returns to his lips before the four of you begin walking what to the beta house. Fred keeps his hand on the small of your back the entire walk, desperately trying to keep you close to him.

The ungodly amount of alcohol you consume at the pregame seems to overtake any remaining worries in your body. Fred never leaves your side, as if you’re already cuffed together before you even arrive at the function itself. You talk with George and Oliver again, and meet some of Fred’s other fraternity brothers like Lee Jordan and Theo Nott. They all seem to know who you are before you can even introduce yourself. It would be difficult to not know your face after watching fred gawk over your every instagram post. Any sort of reservations you once held about the beta boys melt away. They may be wildly intimidating to a stranger that passed them on the street, but watching the boys sing along to whatever song is blasting through the speaker while dancing like they’ve just learned to walk shows you that they’re like every other boy you’ve met.

The walk to the penthouse is short, but it seems to take forever to reign everyone in everyone once in a while. Fred is continuously checking up on you, grasping your hand or your waist, making sure you aren’t cold in your dress. The second you make it to the penthouse you’re immediately cuffed to the red haired boy and handed a comically large bottle of champagne and told the rules.

No unshackling until you’ve finished the bottle.

The party is far more cramped than the one in their backyard. You can’t bring yourself to care about the occasionally bumps from someone in the crowd or the growing smell of alcohol around you. You’re completely consumed by the angelic giant dancing with you. Even with the handcuffs, Fred’s fingers are still intertwined with yours as his other hand is holding you close to his body, roaming from your waist to your back and over your ass. Anytime you go to open the bottle you’d been given at the door to continue on feeding the buzzed state you’ve been in since you arrived at the beta house, Fred stops you. He still grabs you drinks from the makeshift bar and pulls you into the ‘shot room’ to send copious amounts of burning liquor down your throat, but the bottle stays off limits.

“You have no idea how much I’ve been thinking about you this month, y/n.” Fred hiccups his way through his confession as his lips are pressed close to your ear to make sure you hear every word he says over the loud music. “You do something to me.”

You know whatever you try to say will come out slurred, so you do the next best thing you can think of to tell him that you’re feeling the same way. You wrap your free hand behind his neck to press your lips to his. He immediately pulls you closer into him like he was a dying man grasping onto his only source of oxygen. Again, with your lips tangled in his, you’re suddenly the only two in the room. This moment is one you know will occupy your thoughts until the end of time. Held by the boy you’re completely enamored with as the world seems to stop around you. In every sense of the word, it is perfect.

When you pull away from each other to gasp for air, you move your lips to his ear.

“Why can’t I open the champagne?”

He leans back to look you in the eyes. The colored led lights changing on his face make him somehow even more breathtaking. That same smile appears on his lips before he leans down toward you again.

“I don’t want to finish it,” He yells over the bass of the speaker. “I want you to be stuck with me for as long as possible.”

Without a second thought, you pull your hands together to take the bottle from Fred’s free hand to pop the cork off the top before he can stop you. You bring the freshly opened champagne to your lips and take a swig before offering it over to him. His brows furrow in confusion, wondering if maybe you do want to be unchained from him.

“Freddie, if you think it’s going to take an empty bottle to get rid of me you’re wrong,” You try to shout, even in all the noise he hears you and his chest tightens. “Cuffed or not, I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

He doesn’t reply, he simply takes the bottle from your hand and begins to chugs the fizzy drink, spilling over his face slightly. Watching him fumble over the liquid you know isn’t easy to take in large amounts, you can’t help but laugh at the sight in front of you. The words of Kid Cudi’s Pursuit of Happiness flood yours ears and you pull yourself right back against Fred’s body. He pulls the bottle from his mouth and hands it back to you before bringing his hand to your cheek to meet your lips once again. You’re sure you’re perfectly done hair and makeup is a wreck by now but your mind is continuously pulled back to the impossible reality that you’re kissing Fred Weasley. Of all the girls in the party, on this campus that flock to his side any chance they get, you’re the one that Fred Weasley suddenly became nervous around. The one he spent days wracking his brain to craft the perfect image of himself to.

His hand entangles in your more than likely sweaty hair, keeping you held exactly in place against his body as his hips sway against yours. His lips move from yours to your jaw, placing quick and light kisses across the skin. Something that would under any circumstance feel sexually driven feels lighthearted, pulling numerous giggles from your lips. His hand wanders down to your side and in a swift motion begins to tickle you through you dress. You laugh only become louder as you try to keep from doubling over.

“Fred!” You squeal through the stream of giggles. “Freddie stop!”

When you begin to snort, Fred loses it. He can no longer contain his stoic face he had on when he began to tease you. You’re eventually pulled from the party, Freds hand clasping yours as he discards the empty bottle in some corner of the penthouse and brings you to be unchained from him by the pledges standing by the entrance. Even with the cuffs off your wrists, you’re still chained to him as if you’re forced to be. 

Before you can leave the apartment, Fred’s jacket is shrugged from his shoulders and placed around yours. You pull yours arms through the sleeves that are obviously too long for you. “What a gentleman.”

“Can’t have you catching a cold,” He replies, holding you by your waist as you walk back to the beta house. You’ve never seen it so empty or quiet, no one around with the exception of a few boys studying in their lounge. You return to the bedroom you were in only hours ago, it’s a mess from the pregame but you’re able to make out Fred’s bed from his brothers. Massive movie posters and stolen items from various sororities hanging on the walls around his bed, the Good Will Hunting poster above the bed with the blue comforter being a dead giveaway that it belonged to Fred. He told you it was his favorite one night.

“You don’t have to, but you’re welcome to crash here,” He asks, beginning unbutton his now stained dress shirt, revealing his toned abdomen. It’s a sight you don’t think you’ll ever quite get used to. You stop yourself from nearly drooling and shake yourself back to reality. “You can borrow some clothes, probably be pretty big on you but they’d be better than that dress.”

He already has a tee shirt and boxers held out for you. He’s secretly hoping you’re too tired to walk back to your own house so he can spend a little while longer with you. Taking the clothing from his hands, you begin to slip the straps of your dress down, signalling Fred to immediately turn around to give you some privacy. You mouth a quick oh my god to yourself before continuing the change into the boy’s clothing.

“You can turn around,” You tell him and his eyes meet yours once again. He gives you a quick once over before his lips break out in a smile. “What? What are you so smiley over?”

“I like you in my clothes.”

Immediately your heart begins to hammer in your chest as your cheeks begin to heat up. Exhaustion washes over you, the lack of sleep you got in the past week due to your constant overthinking finally catch up to you. After switching off the lights, he pulls back him dark comforter to let you slip into the warmth of his bed. As soon as your settled you turn on your side to face him. You’re both quiet, wordlessly taking in the sight of each other.

“I like you, y/n. A lot,” He finally breaks the silence. You can’t help but wonder if he’s drunker than he’s let on. He’s not, he knows exactly what he’s saying and means every word. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about anyone before.”

You reach over to trace your finger up his defined cheek bones before resting your palm on the side of his face. His arm is lazily slung over your waist, absentmindedly keeping you close to him. You lean in further, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“I like you, Freddie, more than you know,” You confess. Your heart has never felt more full, you’re sure this whole month has been a dream and every second you’re terrified to wake up without even knowing Fred Weasley like you do now. “Thank you for taking me tonight.”

He softly chuckles, his hand moving up your body to stroke through your hair. Even in the dark you can see his bright smile, you’re new favorite sight. “I should be the one thanking you,” He tells you. “You have no idea how nervous I was that you wouldn’t come.”

You continue to shift closer to him, trying to expel the practically nonexistent space between the two of you. You nestle your face into the crook of his neck, finding his steady pulse quite calming. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Freddie.”

“I like it when you call me Freddie.”

You hum a response, suddenly becoming too tired to even speak. The warmth of his body radiating against yours mixed with the rhythm of his heartbeat lull you further into a deep sleep. His arms return to being wrapped around your waist, drinking in this moment and silently praying in would last forever. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head before whispering, “Goodnight, y/n.”

Hours later George, Lee and Oliver stumble into the room, all with slices of pizza from the late night shop down the street and are met with the sight of you and Fred tangled in the sheets, light snores coming from the red haired boy. They wish they could find something about the moment that they would tease him about later, but they come up short. The image laid out in front of them looks like it was taken straight from a movie.

Needless to say your constant thoughts of the beta boy are soon replaced by his presence anywhere and everywhere you go. You aren’t sure of many things in life, but you’re certain that he was made for you and you for him.

tags:

@justmesadgirl @greyspilot @sunflowerdarlingx

[ggukcangetit]

Dreamcatchers 6

Pairing: jungkook x oc

Summary: DI Jeon didn’t need a new partner. Unfortunately, his superiors felt otherwise; especially considering the extremely high-profile murder that had just taken place in the port city. Recent transfer, DI Choi Yuri finds herself confronted with a new cityscape, unfamiliar people, a hostile partner, and a homicide that is certain to bring back unpleasant memories.  

Genre/AU: fluff/action/mystery | detective! au | police!jungkook, police!oc

Word Count: 5.2k

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: mentions of violence, alcohol, blood, drugs, death. basically stuff you’d associate with a murder mystery/crime drama.

Chapters 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 

A/N:  it’s been a while since i posted and even longer since i updated this fic but its still here and so am i! lol. updates are not gonna be very frequent but i have a list of works in progress that i plan to finish so there will be something or the other being posted at the most random moments.

also, reminding everyone that this story features a named oc because i’m still very unfamiliar with writing second person reader inserts. i’m not aiming for strict accuracy in this story, and all criminal investigation/forensics knowledge i have has been gathered by watching crime drama/procedural dramas! my knowledge of geography is also not totally accurate so apologies for that. once again, one thing right by @hobios​ prompted me to write a police inspector! jungkook story. would highly recommend reading that because it’s probably one of my most favorite pieces of writing!

21st December

"Is this how you conduct a sample analysis?! Where did you even train? I've half a mind to report you and get you kicked out!!"

Yuri stopped at her desk, surprised to hear Seulgi's yelling so loudly that she could be heard all the way from the floor above. She was usually extremely calm and even-tempered, but the past couple of days had seen her irritable, snappy, and downright furious.

"Dr. Ahn sounds really angry," whispered Jisoo, clutching a file close to her chest. "I've never heard her yell at anybody before. I hope she's okay."

"I'm sure everything's fine," said Jeon, walking over to his desk and dropping a bunch of files on it. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Yuri raised an eyebrow at him, but complied nonetheless. They walked outside, standing near a clump of trees outside of earshot of anyone in the station.

"Guess who I've just brought in on suspicion of murder for the 2nd Nov case?" he asked, lowering his voice.

"No!" gasped Yuri. "Minhyuk?"

"Yep. He's been in the country for a while now. Fancy giving me a hand with the interview?"

"Me? I mean," she bit her lip. "I wasn't part of the original investigation."

"I know, but in light of what you've found out and the fact that you're now my partner, Goh thinks it's okay."

"You told Goh?!"

"I had to. I can't restart the investigation without his permission."

Jeon stared at her for a few moments, trying to gauge her reaction. "So, what do you say?"

"Alright. Let's nail this bastard."

Ahreum was late. She had a meeting with one of her professors to decide on which medical stream she'd specialize in. Despite using forensics as an excuse to distract Seulgi, she was seriously considering it now. Deciding to pursue medicine had been a drastic career switch for Ahreum, and a lot of people had questioned her decision relentlessly. But if there was something she had learnt in the years following her parents' divorce, it was patience and the ability to block out irrelevant conversations. Namjoon had always been immersed in his studies, barely affected by the bitterness existing between their parents. Ahreum, barely in high school, felt lost and helpless during those times. After the divorce, things had become less tumultuous and she was able to see her parents as individual entities. That was when she realized that her father was never going to like any of her decisions, no matter how hard she tried to please him, and her mother preferred to stay aloof at the best of times. Ahreum learnt pretty early in life, that she needed to be there for herself. She loved her brother and parents, though the latter a lot less than the former. Her decision to study English Literature and Creative Writing had been a spur of the moment one - dictated more by the fact that her high school boyfriend was going to study at a major Arts university. She didn't really regret any of her decisions. Her degree had led her to finding a hobby she adored - photography. And having a freelance job meant that she could stay with Namjoon - who earned a significantly larger amount than her - and move whenever he needed to move as well. This was also how she had met Taehyung 3 years ago - a happy coincidence of events when she had been taking pictures outside the museum at Seoul. They had started talking about art and photography, eventually realizing that they lived in the same part of the city. In addition to Yuri, she also considered Taehyung to be her best friend. She had seen him during one of his lowest moments when Seokjin had left home; and then some time later when he had found Seokjin living in the town Ahreum and Namjoon had recently shifted to, she had stayed by him as he grappled with his anger and frustration towards his older brother until an eventual reconciliation.

But at this moment, she was beginning to lose patience with him. Five minutes before she was about to leave for her meeting, she received a bunch of frantic texts from him.

8.25 am

T: ahreum?? are u up??

T: jimins still in custody

T: im so worried

8.26 am

T: u there?

T: i want to visit him...

T: will u come with me?

8.27 am

T: hey

T: ???

T: i didnt sleep much so i dont wanna drive there

8.28 am

T: are u sleeping?

T: ???

He knew she had a meeting today. He knew how important the meeting was for her. She had spoken about it many times. Not for the first time, Ahreum wondered whether Taehyung cared about her beyond what directly concerned him. If it wasn't somehow relevant to him, he never seemed to remember much. It was a careless apathy that had hurt her during the beginning of their friendship, but she had accepted it as a part of him.

Her meeting was at 9 am and she usually needed 20 minutes to get there on her bike. She closed her eyes and mentally rehearsed the points she was going to bring up during her meeting. Her phone pinged once more, breaking her concentration.

8.30 am

T: hey

T: can u pick me up?

She frowned and shot a quick text before pocketing her phone and strapping on her helmet.

A: sorry have a meeting... talk later

As Ahreum sped through the narrow lanes, she was convinced that there was no way she was going to talk to Taehyung today. He would have to manage on his own for once.

Yuri and Jeon sat across from a very nervous Park Minhyuk, his bloodshot eyes indicating that he had been brought in after a rough night.

"Good morning." Jeon began the interview, his notes stacked neatly in front of him. "You were very hard to get a hold of, Mr. Park. Specifically because your company categorically states that you've been out of the country for business."

"I-" His face was white as a sheet.

"When we called your office, we were told that you are often out of the country on business trips. Short trips," Jeon flipped through his notes. "A fortnight, 20 days at max. Your secretary was very obliging - he told us that you traveled on October 12th and returned on October 27th. Then left the country again on November 1st and returned on November 16th. Another trip between November 22nd and December 6th. And finally, one more on December 10th from which you still haven't returned."

"Your phone records are very interesting, Mr. Park," said Yuri, joining in. "I'm DI Choi, by the way, and I will be assisting DI Jeon as his partner on the case. Now -" she opened the file in front of her and took out a particular page - "is this your cell phone number?"

"Yes, but-"

"Our Telecomms division looked over recent activity over the last 3-4 months. While your office confirms that you have been on multiple trips out of the country from October onwards, your phone has been operating in Korea for almost two months. Can you tell us why?"

Minhyuk remained silent, his hands clenched on the table.

"Do you recognize this?" Yuri placed a plastic bag on the table and moved it towards him.

The remaining color drained from Minhyuk's face as he stared at the ring inside the plastic bag.

"Let me help you out, Mr. Park," she continued. "This is an heirloom from your mother's side of the family. There was three such rings - one buried with your mother, one on your brother's finger, and one found at the scene of Son Eunbi's murder. Can you tell us how your ring found its way to a murder scene?"

"I didn't kill her!" Minhyuk looked like he was going to pass out. Jeon poured some water into a glass and passed it to him.

"She was dead when I got there!" he said after gulping down the water. His hands were shaking by this point.

"If she was dead when you got there, why didn't you call the police?"

"I..."

Faced with a possible murder charge, Minhyuk looked frightened but not nearly as forthcoming with an alibi as one would have hoped.

"Mr. Park," Yuri spoke after a period of silence. "Did you know that Ms. Son had a three year old daughter named Gina?"

Minhyuk gulped, his eyes breaking contact with hers. He removed his hands from where they had been clenched on the table, choosing to hide them in his lap.

"Are you Gina's father?" she continued. Minhyuk head shot up at her question.

"H-how did-"

"When did you find out?" she asked.

Minhyuk sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I guess there's no point in denying it since you know everything." He reached out and finished the remaining water in the glass. "In October, after I came back from a trip, I happened to meet her by chance and Gina was with her. It was odd, the way that she tried to avoid talking to me. And the fact that Gina also had clear grey eyes."

For the first time since the interview started, Yuri realised the resemblance between the Park brothers was limited but striking. Their eyes were the exact same shade of grey - while Jimin looked cold and unwelcoming, Minhyuk's glasses did well to give him a warmer appearance.

"I asked her why she hadn't contacted me when she got pregnant. Or in the three years since Gina was born."

"What did she say?" asked Yuri, softly.

"She was scared that I wouldn't believe her." Tears had started to roll down his cheeks. "I loved her... so much. And then she just disappeared one day. I tried so hard to find her but..."

Jeon poured another glass of water for him.

"I told her how happy I was to hear about Gina. That I wanted us to be a proper family. I was willing to do whatever was necessary if that's what she wanted as well. I think she was beginning to warm up to the idea. I even told my father to postpone my next trip so that I could spend a little more time with both of them. But-"

"But?"

Minhyuk stared at his hands, looking tired and dejected. "He - uh, he wasn't happy when he heard about Gina. My father has very particular expectations."

"What did he say to you? Did he threaten you, Mr. Park?"

Minhyuk let out a soft chuckle. "My father doesn't threaten. He suggests."

"And what did he suggest you do about Gina and Eunbi?" asked Jeon.

"That I stay away from them. For the sake of my inheritance."

"And did you?"

"I was planning to... I-I was meant to travel the next day and I thought I would go and see her once more before I left. But when I got there..."

Minhyuk covered his face with his hands, taking deep breaths to try and calm himself.

"What happened when you got there, Mr. Park?"

"She was lying there... in a pool of blood. Gina was asleep in the back. I-I didn't kill her. You have to believe me."

Yuri and Jeon exchanged a quick look as Minhyuk protested his innocence. They were aware that the homeless man had killed Son Eunbi. The DNA found at the crime scene confirmed the fact that he had stabbed her. But they needed Minhyuk to give them as much information as possible.

"I'm afraid we do not conduct our investigations based on belief, Mr. Park," continued Yuri, shuffling her notes meaningfully. "You still haven't provided us with an alibi for that night. Strange thing - the Park family seem to have a particular aversion towards providing alibis. Your brother was also extremely resistant when we spoke to him."

"You spoke to Jimin? What for?" Minhyuk's expression had changed completely. He looked strangely alert.

"I guess you aren't aware that Jimin was arrested for the murder of Kang Eunwoo on December 15th." Jeon spoke deliberately, hoping to elicit a reaction. And he was successful.

"What?! That's impossible! There's no way he could've done that!"

"Why are you so certain of that?"

"Because he was with me on December 15th!"

"I'm sorry but we can't take you at your word. You can't even provide a proper alibi for yourself on the night of Son Eunbi's murder. How can we be sure that the two of you aren't just covering up for each other?"

It was then that Minhyuk realised that he would need to come clean. There was no way to save Jimin without telling them the entire story.

"Fine," he sighed. "I'll tell you everything."

"Everything?"

"Yes. If it can help Jimin, I'm willing to risk my father finding out."

Yuri glanced at Jeon who gave her an almost imperceptible nod.

"Go on."

"After I saw Eunbi... lying there, I couldn't leave Gina. No matter what my father had said, I couldn't leave my daughter in such a situation. So I... took her away with me."

"Where is Gina now, Mr. Park?" Yuri asked, frowning.

"She's safe."

"Where is she?" asked Jeon, sharply.

"In Busan. I have an apartment there and she's been with me since that day."

"Why didn't you tell the police that you had her? Why does your company believe that you are abroad on a business trip?"

Minhyuk rubbed his eyes tiredly and drank some more water. "I couldn't let my father find out. Jimin and I have an apartment in Busan that we bought under a different name. It was a place our father couldn't find us. Gina's been staying there with me since 2nd November."

"Are you sure your father thinks you're abroad? It doesn't seem like something easy to cover up."

"Jimin helped with that," said Minhyuk, leaning back into the cold metal chair. "He told father that I had run away because he hadn't been understanding of my situation with Gina and Eunbi. Jimin's good at convincing people - it's a talent he's barely ever put to good use."

"So Jimin knew that you were hiding in a secret apartment with your recently discovered daughter?"

"Yes, he did. I have an alibi for 2nd November. I was in a meeting till 9 pm and then stopped for drinks at a nearby fried chicken place till 11 pm. I was a bit tipsy after that, which is why I decided to visit Eunbi and Gina. After taking Gina away from there, I went to Jimin's place, got the keys to the apartment and drove straight there. I think I reached around 2 am."

Yuri jotted down all this information, making a note to check on every new detail that had been mentioned.

"What about December 15th? You said Jimin was with you. Why?" asked Jeon, folding his arms across his chest.

"We meet once a week to make sure everything is going okay," said Minhyuk, pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly. "Sundays are usually the best days for that."

"Where did you meet?"

"At the local ice-cream shop," Minhyuk frowned, trying to remember something. "You know the one near the end of town?"

"The Dairy Berry? Yes, I know which one you're talking about." Jeon gave Yuri a brief nod to confirm that this was a legitimate spot and not something Minhyuk was making up on the spot.

"Gina loves sweet things and I thought it would be easier to take her with me the same day I met Jimin. I think we were there till 10 pm. After that, I dropped Jimin at a bar and drove back home."

"Which bar was this?" asked Yuri.

"Sunset."

"And you drove straight home after that?"

"You can check the dash cam on my car and the security tapes at my apartment building, if you want."

"We definitely will, Mr. Park," said Jeon, surveying him carefully. "In the meantime, you will be in custody until we have verified each and every single thing you just told us. So I suggest you keep yourself hydrated."

Yuri could feel a pair of eyes on her as she spoke to Jisoo and Suho.

"We need to verify everything that Park Minhyuk told us. But there's a lot of ground to cover and we've lost quite a bit of time since the murder of Son Eunbi. So I suggest you recruit some uniformed officers as well." Jisoo jotted down the locations and the times they needed to verify, and nodded to Suho to indicate she had forwarded the details to him. "We need to get the information as soon as possible."

"Will do," said Suho, giving her a reassuring nod.

Yuri waited for them to leave before walking over to the person who had been watching her for a while.

"Did you want to talk about something?" she asked Seulgi.

"I-" Seulgi tugged at her sleek, high ponytail, looking oddly hesitant. She seemed in a better mood than earlier in the morning when she had almost scared one of the interns into leaving the country. "Do you have a minute?"

"Yeah- " Yuri checked the clock on her phone - "just a minute though. I'm waiting for Jeon to get a warrant from Goh."

"Did he-? I mean, Jimin, uh... have you...? You know-" It was strange to see her grappling for words. "Are you certain he's done it?"

Yuri stared at her for a second. This wasn't what she had been expecting Seulgi to talk about. The doctor's relationship with Jimin was even more puzzling than she had originally perceived it.

"We're looking into it right now." She paused, trying to gauge Seulgi's reaction. "But you already know about the blood sample match - that, in itself, is pretty damaging."

"Y-yeah, I know."

Before Yuri could say anything more, Jeon came out of the Chief Inspector's office. "We've got a warrant to search Minhyuk's apartment. Let's go."

Glancing one more time at Seulgi's ashen face, Yuri put on her coat and scarf and followed Jeon out the exit.

Once inside Jeon's car, Yuri debated whether or not she should attempt to engage him in conversation. Her decision was made for her when he drove onto the main road, and lowered the volume of the police scanner.

"What was Seulgi saying?" he asked, his eyes focused on the road.

"Just where we were in the investigation."

"I see."

Yuri fiddled with the button on her coat, itching to say more.

"What's the deal with her and Jimin?" she finally asked.

"I- what do you mean?" Jeon raised his eyebrow and gave her the most puzzled expression he could muster while trying to stay focused on the crazy traffic.

"Their relationship is... weird. He keeps flirting with her, and she is on the verge of ripping his guts out at every given moment. But just now, she seemed almost worried about him."

"I don't really know... they've never really seen eye-to-eye on much." Jeon checked the rear view mirror to make sure he was clear before deftly changing lanes. "Jimin has always been the person who tries his utmost to push everyone's buttons. And Seulgi... well, she has a lot of buttons."

Yuri snorted loudly. "That tells me nothing and everything at the same time. You really have a way with words, Jeon."

He smirked at this, his eyes never leaving the road. "So does that mean you trust me now?"

"No." She looked at him and caught the way his face fell slightly at her response. "But who knows what the future holds..."

The smirk was back.

Ahreum had a terrible headache. She usually didn't get many headaches. So on the rare occasion that she did, it put her in a really terrible mood. The only person who knew how to handle this situation properly was Namjoon. He knew that she needed silence, dim lighting, green tea, fresh bread, and absolutely no unexpected company.

So when Ahreum got home after her grueling 3 hour long meeting, hoping to relax and recuperate, she wasn't too pleased to find Taehyung sitting in her living room, playing a very loud game on his tablet.

"You're back!" he yelled, once she slammed the door to make her presence felt. "I've been waiting for hours. How was your meeting?"

"'S okay," she replied, shortly. Taking off her coat, she opened the middle cabinet in the kitchen and searched for the green tea.

"Great! So do you wanna go and visit Jimin now?"

"No."

"What? Why not? You don't have anything else to do right now. Just come with me. Please!" He had walked into the kitchen and was standing in front of her with a pout on his lips.

As endearing as she always found his antics, Ahreum was at breaking point. She placed the cup on the counter with a loud clink, and turned to face him.

"Because I don't have time to follow you on your every whim, Taehyung. Because I have a life of my own. Because I am studying medicine, which, if you aren't aware, is a very taxing occupation." She paused for a breath, as his mouth fell open in shock. "Because I am not your babysitter. Or your handler. Or your caretaker. And I'm tired of being responsible for you. You're a grown ass adult and it's about time you acted like one."

"Ahreum, I'm-" His eyes were wide and worried, and she felt a tiny sliver of remorse. "I don't think you're my babysitter or handler or whatever. You're my best friend."

"I thought so too. In fact," she said, looking away from him. "I thought we were, or we could be, more."

"W-what? Ahreum?" Taehyung sounded so lost and confused that she was tempted to console him.

She walked to the front door and held it open for him. "I think you should leave now. I'm tired, I have a headache, and I don't want to be around anyone right now."

"Wait! What did you mean by that?" he asked, hesitantly standing at the entrance.

"I'm tired, Taehyung. I don't have the energy to explain everything to you. Now, please," she began closing the door slowly. "I want to rest."

"It's clear!" The uniformed officer confirmed to them, before opening the door further.

"Okay, let's see whether little Gina is here," instructed Jeon, his face drawn into a frown.

Yuri nodded and walked into the room on the left of the large living area. It was a study of sorts, with a large wooden desk, a swiveling chair, and shelves upon shelves of books. She quickly checked to see if there was anyone in the room before shouting "clear!". There was another door connecting to a smaller room, it's walls bathed in bright sunlight and smelling of soft lavender. This was clearly some sort of guest room, judging by the inconsistent decor theme. The furniture looked sleek and modern, but the sheets on the bed were soft and pastel colored. A bunch of soft toys stood leaning against the flat screen tv, and Yuri realised that this was probably the room that had been hastily fixed up for a small child's unexpected stay. And sure enough, soft strands of brown hair peaked through the large covers on the bed.

She walked over to the bed slowly, not wanting to startle the child. Yuri barely managed to stifle a gasp as she looked into the child's clear grey eyes - the same color as both Park Minhyuk and Park Jimin.

"Hello," she said, softly. "Are you Gina?"

The little girl nodded, bringing the covers closer towards her.

"I'm a police officer. I help catch bad people." She didn't respond, staring at her with wide eyes.

"Do you want to go to your dad, Gina?" She nodded vigorously, sitting up at the mention of her father. "Okay, we will. But first, tell me, are you okay? Do you feel pain anywhere?"

The little girl shook her head.

"Are you sleepy?"

Again, she shook her head.

"Are you hungry?"

Slowly, she nodded her head.

"Okay, we'll go and see your dad, and also get you something to eat. Is that okay with you?"

"Yes."

"Wonderful."

It was just after 2 pm and Yuri felt completely drained. After they had found Gina, she had insisted on returning to the station to ask Jimin about his alibi for the night of Kang Eunwoo's murder. From what she had understood, he had refused to provide an alibi to protect his brother and keep him out of the police's radar until the situation with Gina worked out. Even though she still couldn't get herself to consider him a pleasant person, his desire to protect his brother had humanized him a great deal in her eyes.

Sure enough, once he was made aware that Minhyuk had come forward and spoken about his daughter and the events of the past month and a half, Jimin looked much less hostile than before.

"I was at Sunset from around 10.30 pm to closing time - which is 2 am," he said, sighing tiredly and rubbing his face with his hands. "You can confirm with them."

While Minhyuk and Jimin's alibis were verified, Yuri received a text from Namjoon, asking her and Jeon to meet him at Seokjin's bakery. It was barely a 2 minute drive there, so Jeon suggested they get lunch over there and make it before Goh finished compiling the list of paperwork for them to finish.

The smell of freshly baked milk bread wafted out of the kitchen, adding another layer of warmth to Seokjin's cozy shop. The man in question picked up the large tray filled with various different confections, and brought it over to the table by the window.

"Peach danish and americano for Namjoon, chocolate fudge brownie and vanilla bean ice cream for Jeongguk, and a snow croissant and hot chocolate for Yuri." He placed everything on the table, before grabbing his lukewarm cup of tea and sitting down with them.

"So you finally find the child, then?" asked Seokjin, sipping the tea. He made a face at the odd taste that tea acquires when it's between comfortingly steamy and soothingly chilled.

"Yeah we did," Yuri replied, when her partner remained silent. "Goh is dealing with Minhyuk and the custody charges. It's no longer in our jurisdiction."

"Namjoon, how's grad school treating you?" Seokjin diverted the conversation, realising that his friend wasn't ready to talk about the case at that moment. "How much longer do you have?"

"A few more months and I should be done." Namjoon wiped the pastry flakes from the corner of his mouth and nearly tipped over his americano in the process. Yuri chuckled at this, suddenly remembering those random moments in high school where Namjoon was a lot thinner and less confident, but still had a propensity for knocking things over.

"Remind me why you're putting yourself through this?" Seokjin broke off a piece of the peach danish and popped it into his mouth.

"The last time I tried to explain that, you spaced out and created a new pastry recipe for your menu. As much as I like helping your business flourish, I'm gonna preserve my energy and only talk about things when necessary."

Seokjin chuckled and picked up a spoon from the dispenser. "Jeongguk, can I get a bit of ice cream from you?" There was no response, and looking at him for confirmation Seokjin's eyebrows shot up in alarm.

"Okay okay, I won't eat any of your ice cream. You don't have to tear up about it!"

Yuri and Namjoon turned towards him as well, not sure what to do when they saw tears slowly sliding down Jeongguk's cheeks.

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" asked Namjoon, patting his shoulder softly.

They sat in silence, as Jeongguk sobbed softly and wiped his face with his coat sleeve. He turned towards Yuri, his eyes glazed with tears but holding a soft radiance unlike what she was used to.

"Thank you."

Yuri felt her face heat up suddenly. This wasn't what she had been expecting. The soft sincerity in his voice startled her. It was nothing like the person she had met only a week ago. She looked away abruptly and nodded her head.

"There's nothing to thank me for. This is our job."

Jeongguk smiled and resumed eating the disgustingly sweet dessert combination in front of him. He nudged Seokjin to take some ice cream like he had originally intended. There was silence once more, but this time, it was very different.

Back at the station, Yuri finished the paperwork for the day. There was a lot to complete, and since they had stopped at Seokjin's for a break, they had lost some time as well. Goh had been very clear about completing all the paperwork for social services to take over the case from them now that Gina had been found.

It was barely even 5 pm but Yuri felt a large yawn coming on for the third time in the past few minutes. She wasn't sure how long she would be able to carry on without getting proper sleep at night. At this rate, she would eventually burn out. There was only so much coffee could do for her.

A light tap brought her attention to another person standing in her cubicle. She looked up to see Jeon holding two steaming cups of ramen, tilting his head slightly to confirm whether it was okay for him to sit down.

"Did you need anything?" she asked, after moving her slightly. He placed the ramen on her desk and pulled up his own chair and sat down.

"I've got a peace offering," he gestured to the ramen. "I wanted to apologize properly for being an absolute dickhead to you. I-" He hesitated, looking down at his hands that lay clenched on his lap - "I don't really have an excuse for my behavior but I had a lot on my mind. Particularly about finding the little girl. And, well... you really don't know what solving this case means to me."

Once again, Yuri wasn't sure how to react. She felt embarrassed that he was thanking her for doing her job - something that he did as well. While she appreciated his apology, his entire being remained confusing to her.

"Don't worry about it," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "And thanks for the ramen; food is always appreciated."

Thankfully, her computer ping-ed with a new email before the atmosphere could get any more awkward.

"Okay, we've confirmed Minhyuk's alibi's for 2nd November and 15th December. He wasn't involved in either murder. Jimin was with Minhyuk till 10.15 pm on 15th December - his car's dash cam confirms that he dropped Jimin off at Sunset bar around that time."

"Fantastic! And what about the CCTV footage at Sunset? Does it confirm Jimin's story? He said he was there till 2 am."

"Hang on, I'm opening the report. Th-" she stopped abruptly, frowning at the screen.

"What?" asked Jeon, looking over her shoulder to read the email.

"CCTV footage does not place Jimin at Sunset from 10.15 pm till closing time at 2 in the morning. He doesn't have an alibi for Eunwoo's murder."

She turned to look at him, an odd sense of foreboding hitting her as she realized that they would have to charge Jimin for murder by the next evening. He held her gaze, his dark eyes reflecting a similar shadow of doubt.

please reblog and leave a comment if you liked this part! thank you! 😊 

[deans-baby-momma]

Mommy’s (Not So)Good Girl-23

My Spring Break quickly turns to heartbreak and misery. 

All week long, everything seems to remind me of Dean. The snapshots Mom had hung on the refrigerator door to the sofa where I remember riding Dean’s dick the weekend before I went back to school. Even traveling with Mom and Ben to the grocery store dredges up memories of my 21st birthday when I lost my virginity in the very seat I had to sit on. 

It is getting difficult to hide the grief and disappointment when my tears kept multiplying and trying to make themselves known. Mom looks at me curiously when they appear but I just shrug them off as allergies.

I think she's catching on though. Not exactly that it's Dean I'm crying over but she knows I've never had allergies before. She just nods once and then goes back to whatever she was doing before. Ben, on the other hand, is oblivious to my heartache and, truth be known, uncaring.

I lay in my bed each night, his scent still infused in my pink comforter promoting me to reminisce about his time spent here, in my room between my legs. This is the only time I can allow myself to mourn.

No, he isn't dead. Dean Winchester is very much alive and well. Well,  as far as I know, he is. But knowing that I had planned to come clean and admit my feelings for the man is what made me lament. 

The fact that he is gone, and possibly for good, is catastrophic for me. I wonder if he knew; if he realized I had fallen in love with him 

Wait! Did he know when he visited me on campus that he would soon be gone? How long ago has it been since his brother "came back from the dead"? Was that his goodbye? Was that him coming to say he was leaving?

I make a promise to myself to ask Mom the next day when exactly his brother returned. Tonight is no different than the rest of the nights since I came home; dreams of making love to and professing my feelings for Dean plague my dreams.

It's at breakfast the next morning, after Ben runs off to Noah's house that I approach the subject with Mom.

"When did Sam show up?" I ask tentatively.

"First week in March," she answers and  I internally sigh in relief. So, Dean's visit to campus in February was not him saying goodbye. He had actually driven all that way to see me and spend time with me; not because he knew he was going to be gone soon.

"You said some bad guys were after him?" I continue while eating my toast. " Why?"

"I don't know, Abs. Dean didn't take the time to explain it to me. Just had Ben and I pack a bag and took us to Bobby's."

"In South Dakota, right?" I ask and she nods so I go on. "How bad is bad if Dean felt the need to take you almost 12 hours away? What did Sam do? Is he a criminal?"

"No," she tells me and then sighs as she covers her face with her hands. "At least I don't think so. I think he just got tangled up with the wrong crowd after Jess died."

"Who is Jess?" I'm perplexed now. I know none of these people and yet they have ultimately put my family in danger and took away the man I love.

"His college sweetheart," Mom explains. "She was home when a fire broke out in their apartment. They think she was sleeping because her body was found in the bedroom."

"Oh. That's horrible!"

Mom goes on to tell me how Dean had been worried about his brother's mental state after the fire and how Sam had vowed to seek revenge for his girlfriend's death, even though the fire was recorded as accidental and the medical examiner claimed her death due to severe burns and smoke. How he got mixed up with the wrong crowd in his revenge and ending up having to fake his own death to get away.

I listen and my heart breaks even more for Dean. He never really liked talking about his family so I just assumed he'd had a falling out with them. I had no idea his brother had been 'dead'.

It brought up more questions. Questions I am unsure Mom had the answers to. Like, did Dean know Sam was really alive? Or was he clueless and assumed his brother was dead? Had he mourned for him? Did he give him a funeral and bury him? Who did he grieve over and stick in the ground? I will probably never find out.

The last day of my break, I sneak into the kitchen and grab the photo that Mom had on the fridge of Dean with his left arm around my shoulder and his right one around Ben. That had been a great day. We had went up to White River and spent the day on the river fishing before having a  picnic at one of the picnic shelters.  It was a fun and pleasant day; except for almost getting caught behind the bathrooms kissing Dean. 

I stuff the picture into my pocket and head outside where Mom and Ben are waiting to see me off.

Being back at college, on campus in my dorm room did not soothe my heartbreak.  Everywhere I looked I saw him; from my bed to the path we walked to the food cart, the memories of strolling across campus holding hands overwhelming.

I can barely concentrate on studying for my finals without a reminder of some type of my time spent having sex with my mom's boyfriend. 

Sheila and Debby learned quickly that I was never in the mood to hang out and gossip or even explain what happened between "John" and me. They eventually quit asking and left me alone to stew in my misery. 

As I'm sitting at my desk studying, or at least trying to, on another lonely Friday night, I hear a knock on my door. 

Grumbling under my breath, I get up and walk to the door, jerking it open.

"What?!" I am shocked and aghast at who is standing in my doorstep. Dean fucking Winchester. "Dean?"

Dean gives me a half smile and I open the door wider, silently inviting him in. Once he is inside my room, I close the door and click the overhead light on since I was only using my desk lamp to study by.

Dean puts a hand up, covering his eyes for a second but then takes it down. I wonder just how long he has been driving since the glow from the bulb blinded him; exactly where did he come from to see me?

“What’s going on? I’ve missed you,” I tell him as I put a hand on his shoulder. He looks down at it and pushes it away. Okay, what the hell is going on?!

“I can’t put this on you. I can’t let you be a part of this shitshow that is my life now, has always been my life. It’s ugly and I’m going to die….soon.”

That is definitely not the response I was hoping for so I try to reach for him again only for Dean to back away; like he was afraid of my touch. 

“Tell me what you are talking about. What is going on? You’re scaring me.”

“You need to be scared. You need to be afraid to be associated with me. There are things out there that should terrify you. Things connected to and because of me!”

“Is this about Sam?” I ask, trying to get him to open up. “Mom told me he had had to fake his death to get away from some bad people. Did you and he not get rid of them?”

Dean closes his eyes and just breathes, deep and sharp. Like he is trying to sniff out something. Suddenly he grabs me and pushes me against the wall. I can’t help but get turned on by the brusque turn of events. Maybe he is role-playing? I’m the damsel in distress and he is the knight come to save me. 

“Daddy?” I purr and Dean leans in toward me. I close my eyes awaiting the moment our lips touch but it never comes. Instead, Dean lets go of me and I open my eyes to see he has turned away from me.

“Dean?” I step toward him, worried about what is going on “What’s wrong?”

I place my hand on his shoulder once again, planning to turn him toward me but he slaps it away. 

In a very authoritarian tone, he yells. “I SAID STAY BACK!”

I look across the room and can see his reflection in the mirror of Sheila’s vanity. Dean is standing there with a distressed and pained look on his face. He opens his mouth as if to say something but wait! What the fuck?! Are those fangs? My eyes widen at the sight. 

No, it can’t be! I have to be imagining things. Only vampires have fangs and vampires don’t exist in the real world; only on television and the big screen in those stupidly popular teen romance fantasy movies. Vampires are not real! 

Dean finally turns back toward me and I can see that his eyes are red-rimmed and his pupils are dilated, the black almost overtaking the green of his irises. 

Once again, I find myself pinned to the wall by him and I am starting to get scared. Why is he acting like this? Why does he seem so pissed? 

“I gotta go Abs,” he says. “I can’t bring you into this. I can’t!” 

He lets me go and I slide down the wall until I hit the floor. I pull my legs to my chest and wrap my arms around them. Dean looks down at me once more and then he takes off out the door. 

I stare at the door in shock as tears run down my face. 

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss​ @spnbaby-67​ @tftumblin​ @sea040561​ @delightfullykrispypeach​ @larajadeschmidt13​ @vicariouslythruspn​ @squirrelnotsam​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @sandlee44​ @blacktithe7​ @deanwanddamons​ @hoboal87​ @marvelfanbrenda​ @vicmc624​ @smoothdogsgirl​ @elliloumom @stoneyggirl​  @kricketc29​

[mrsren]

Could you do a Tom+Hermione fic rec please? I’m just starting to get into it and I’ve read some good ones but I’d always love more (can never have too many fics you know?)

Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger is my OTP, and I haven’t read all the fics that are about them, but I’ve read a healthy amount. After writing out this rec list, I realized that I didn’t organize the categories very well, but I hope you find something you enjoy! I included the summaries as well. 

I tried to tag the users I know, but tumblr was not working with me. If the links are formatted incorrectly, I’ll fix them after work. 

If you’re looking for more organized asks, check out tomionefinds! They’re fantastic.

If you’re looking for fics over 100k that are currently completed:

Somewhere In Time by Serpent In Red

Sent back in time by a mysterious person and trapped in the past with a missing Dumbledore and an overbearing, charismatic Dark Lord, they had no idea how much they could dabble with before the world they had known shattered into pieces.

All the Wrong Choices by Queen of Dreamers 

Hermione is kidnapped by Severus Snape and taken to Lord Voldemort, who behaves in a bizarrely familiar manner with Hermione. When she's rocketed back in time by Voldemort, she realises just why he knew her so well in the 1990s - it was because he'd known her very well indeed, as Tom Riddle, in an entirely different time. She had to go back because she'd been there. Re-upload.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12803416/1/All-the-Wrong-Choices

Serpentine Moves by betagyre 

Medieval Norman Conquest AU.

Fourteen years after eloping with a Muggle, Merope Riddle, of an English wizarding noble family, discovers that she and her son are the last of the line, so she petitions for her title and fiefdom back. Meanwhile Lord and Lady Granger are minor nobility who want their daughter taught magic, but Lord Malfoy, appointed by William the Conqueror to rule English wizards, won’t allow an unattached Muggle-born to study alongside young purebloods at Hogwarts. Merope and the Grangers make common cause and betroth their children, thwarting him for now. But war is coming, and a long, dark path lies ahead.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11078427

Nightmare by provocative_envy

A broken time turner shouldn't have sent me back so far. It was unprecedented. Stepping on it--smashing it--nothing should have happened. At most, I should have lost a week. At worst, I should have disappeared altogether. I shouldn't have traveled back fifty-two years; half a bloody century.

This should not have happened.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/805856/chapters/1520166

School Days by meowmers 

They meet on the playground. Ron told her that if she doesn't fight for herself no one will ever leave her alone so she's just trying to follow his advice. "Are you crying?" He asks. She musters all the fury in her 7-year-old body and channels it into her voice when she speaks through the tears. "So what? I'll still kick your arse." Tomione. AU. Rated M for future chapters.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12020392/1/School-Days

unsphere the stars by cocoartist

When you can't change time, but you can't go forward, what is left? Hermione learns how to be the protagonist of her own story. [Tomione] COMPLETE!

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7728303/1/unsphere-the-stars

Pygmalion by colubrina

When Tom Riddle walked through a doorway one fall afternoon everything changed and he found himself in a world wholly unprepared for him. "Something about you makes my brain itch," Hermione Granger said. "As if an earthquake had shifted everything sharply two feet to the left and then back again and it didn't all fit back quite right." Tomione. AU. COMPLETE.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11248015/1/Pygmalion

Choosing Grey by betagyre 

Hermione has always been a warrior for the Light. But when an attempt to salvage more than a Pyrrhic victory lands her in 1944, she quickly realizes that sometimes it is best to allow a lesser evil to flourish, because defeating it only creates the conditions for a greater one to rise. With conspiracies, schemes, and difficult choices in every corner, and a charismatic young Tom Riddle who is increasingly interested in her, she will eventually have to answer the question: How much darkness and grey in him can she accept?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5121731/chapters/11782721

And the sequel, A Marked Deck by betagyre 

Minister for Magic Tom Riddle has a family and a position of immense political power, and he must adapt to the responsibility that comes with both. But Hermione has much to adjust to as well, married to someone who is still very much a power-hungry Dark wizard. Follows Choosing Grey.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/6638233/chapters/15186799

If you are looking for fics less than 100k. (After making this list, I realized this wasn’t the best way to break it up. Whoops.) 

Blitz by crochetaway 

Tom Riddle charms everyone, but he hates Hermione Granger because she's a bossy, know-it-all; until she does something impossible and Tom is desperate to know how she did it... because he can do impossible things too. As a Muggle war rages outside of Britains' borders, Tom and Hermione attend Hogwarts and navigate the wizarding world and it's xenophobic politics the best way they know how. When Grindelwald's rise threatens to overshadow them all, what will Tom and Hermione do to survive? And will they change the fabric of the wizarding world while they do it? Complete!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19845391/chapters/46993501

The Experiment by thekarmapolice 

She entered his shop one rainy afternoon.

A Tomione story. AU.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11013591/chapters/24540165#workskin

Besotted by Sharkdiver1980

A story in which Lord Voldemort is accidentally given a love potion meant for Bellatrix Lestrange, by none other than his faithful servant, Wormtail. When said love potion is ingested while interrogating a prisoner, all hell breaks loose. HG/LV

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7368442/chapters/16736299

Dark Seduction by crochetaway 

As Tom Riddle is hunting for the diadem in Albania, he stumbles across a strange artifact he's never seen before. Hermione Granger is a lowly Ministry employee on vacation in the mountains of Albania. She's found the perfect cabin for a week of relaxing, hiking and reading. Until a stranger shows up in her living room. Wearing a time-turner. Complete!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15949214/chapters/37193711

Linen Rope by Brightki 

Hermione is an upper sixth student at the highly elite Hogwarts School, and she needs extra hours working in the school’s science labs for her pre-admission to Oxford the next year. However, she has to get the approval from the chemistry teacher, Dr. Snape, as well as the support of the man in charge of the science department - Dr. Tom Riddle. *NOW COMPLETE*

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4108204/chapters/9257791#workskin

A Big Ball is Wibbly-Wobbly by Colubrina

The war is over, the good guys have won, and Hermione Granger goes to sleep in her lovely flat only to wake up in 1953 in the bed of someone she'd really much rather were dead. "I'm working on the 'kill Lord Voldemort now, work out the temporal paradox issues later' plan," she tells him. He laughs. Tomione. COMPLETE. 

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11508846/1/A-Big-Ball-of-Wibbly-Wobbly

Anamoran by crochetaway 

Tom Riddle finds a mysterious girl on the steps of Hogwarts. When he finds out she's from the future, he decides he can't live without her. Written for the very first Tomione Fest hosted by Tomione Fanfics on FB!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13091940/chapters/29951430

Tempora Abducto by Flaignhan

Inconveniently it's the things that need fixing the most which are often irreparable.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5500156/1/Tempora-Abducto

Just Another Girl Alone at the Bar by elbowless-rubber-duck

“Oh Ron-Ron, you're too funny," a feminine voice says, giggling. Hermione thinks she might vomit. In which Hermione pretends Tom is her boyfriend until he actually is.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11871950/1/Just-Another-Girl-Alone-at-the-Bar

If you’re looking for oneshots, these are my favorites. 

Not Friends, Some Benefits by devdevlin 

She hated the way he never asked for his coffee, instead outstretching a wide palm as he passed her desk in the morning as if getting it for him was her first priority of the day.

She hated the way his overpriced shoes would click obnoxiously against the floors whenever he passed.

She absolutely loathed the way the others in the firm would hang onto his every word, vying for his attention as if he were some sort of celebrity, as if they would better themselves by merely being seen to associate with him.

But what she hated the very most about Tom Riddle, was that he was an unbelievable fuck.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21657055

The Summoning by Lovely Villain 

Hermione never meant for this to happen. No one was supposed to get hurt. She was summoning an Angel after all...

She forgot to read the fine print.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15843480

Tainted by nekositting 

“I’ve been curious.”

“Oh?” Hermione inquired with a lift of a brow, a spark of adrenaline bolting through her at the heat in his eyes. He was aroused even if she couldn’t tell apart his pupils from the rest of his irises. His cheeks had taken on a flushed hue, and his mouth—

His teeth caught his bottom lip before letting it go.

Hermione’s insides warmed, anticipating what it was he was about to say.

“What is the most sexually deviant thing you’ve ever done?”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18114545

Shattered Glass by betagyre 

As Head of Magical Law Enforcement, Tom has been up to no good, and Hermione is irritated about it. She decides to try an experiment with him involving a different outlet for power… and he is delighted at the idea.

Occurs during early events of A Marked Deck. Part of the same AU but a separate fic for tag reasons.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7018264

Ringing Satan’s Doorbell by PenelopeGrace 

Instead of designing weapons for humanity, Satan keeps hearing a persistent call from the girl-next-door.

Demons AU + Tomione

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14692209

Youth In Retrospect by provocative_envy

She’s buying a box of condoms when she meets him.

“Those are shit, you know,” he says, jerking his chin at the pale purple box in her hand. “Can’t feel anything.”

She stares at him for a moment too long. The bell above the door jingles merrily as a rowdy group of schoolboys enters the store.

“Excuse you,” she replies, cheeks turning pink.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/2889506

The Graduates by Orphicus [triad + Draco]

Hermione is having a difficult time controlling her raging libido around her two hot roommates/best friends-Draco Malfoy and Tom Riddle. But it soon turns out she isn't the only one who wants a good shag. Threesome. DMHGTR. Smut. AU.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11659126/1/The-Graduates

Peeping Tom by Nekositting 

“Tom.”

Hermione blinked through the haze, confusion and something like annoyance replacing it.

What did that even mean?

“My name. It’s best you become familiar with it now because you will be screaming it rather shortly.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16733037

Be My Blood by LadyKenz347 

Hermione travels back in time to change the course of history.

An AU for MrsRen's day of birth!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19786201

Mr. Riddle by dreamsofdramione

Girls like Hermione Granger don’t belong in places like Felix Felicius. 

Girls like Hermione belong in posh tea houses with their ankles primly crossed and their pinkies extended as they took delicate sips of tasteless teas, feigning interest in whatever society gossip the gaggle of her peers were circulating that day.

Girls like Hermione were raised to be prim and proper, to lay napkins across their lips at their meals, and make polite conversation with strangers even if it bored them to tears. 

Yet, despite her social status as a wellborn English girl, Hermione craved the daring edge of ruffling feathers, of uncrossing those tired ankles and spreading her legs wide in the dim light of clubs well past any semblance of a decent hour.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21617293

Philophobia by weestarmeggie 

Or five times it was just sex and the one time it wasn't.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16041974

She Noticed Him In First Year by weestarmeggie

Hermione noticed Tom in first year, not when he started playing quidditch, which is when everyone else seemed to notice him too.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13431633

This is my TBR list. Some have been started, some have not, but I’m looking forward to all of them! 

The Department of Magical Law Enforcement by devdevlin

What if Voldemort survived the Battle of Hogwarts? Flight instead of fight? Seven years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione is appointed to the team given the task of tracking him down. But when an attractive young man, who Harry is strangely suspicious of, is appointed as her boss, things quickly get out of hand…

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13162611

peccatophilia by LovelyVillain 

Hermione has a terrible secret, the past won’t let her go. Neither will her brother. A tale of obsession told in three parts.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15881256/chapters/37004997

Madam Umbridge Home for Wayward Girls by LovelyVillain 

Hermione’s life takes a dark turn after the death of her parents, leaving her at the mercy of a tyrannical Matron. Her new home is more prison than sanctuary, haunted by ghosts bearing terrible, bloody secrets. And though she's surrounded by troubled young women, it’s the men in her life who teach her freedom comes at the greatest price of all.

Victorian AU, Tomione, Dramione, no triad

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15176684/chapters/35195090

Stepbrother by cherry-cup 

AU. The Grangers adopt a young Tom Riddle, and seal their daughter's fate forever. Set in the 30s-40s.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11185107/1/Stepbrother

Fostering A Nightmare by Ninja Fairy 

A ten-year-old foster child named Tom Riddle showed up on the Granger's front doorstep with his social worker in the summer of 1990. Hermione spent the following years adjusting to life with her new foster brother; so, she never realized how often he kept an eye on her. "I've always watched you, Hermione; and you've always been mine." [Magical AU]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12169509/chapters/27621588#workskin

Two Steps From Hell by ssserpenssotia

The road to hell is often paved with good intentions. LV/HG, Complete

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10946650/1/Two-Steps-From-Hell

Daddy Dearest by ImmortalObsession 

It is 1895 in England. Purebloods are the supremacy. Dumbledore rules them all. Lord Malfoy, one of his many devout followers, has a daughter no one has ever seen. The daughter herself, Hermione Malfoy, never questions the strict rules standing between her and everyone else – that is, until Master Riddle arrives and makes her think twice. AU/OOC/Rated M for dark themes.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9219929/1/Daddy-Dearest

Renatus by frozenbeans

“His name is Professor Riddle, and at least for now, no matter who you ask, nobody knows anything more. Professor Riddle, the new Defence Against the Dark Arts Teacher.”

[Golden Trio Era Professor Riddle AU]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14655447/chapters/33857754

His Persephone by Reneehart 

Hermione Granger is in a losing war, one causing the world to fall apart at the seams. Ever since the Battle of Hogwarts, things have only grown more dim, with Voldemort creating even more horcruxes and his army growing larger still. The order has been disbanded and those she loved are either dead or soon to be dead. But even when the world is at its darkest, light will find a way to break free, and she may be the key to turning the war around- long before it took a turn for the worst.

"1943? And you'd like me to...kill Tom Riddle?" Dumbledore shook his head, that annoying twinkle glowing thrice as bright as before. "No, my dear. I'd like you to join him."

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5286116/chapters/12202283#workskin

Please, Save Me by winterblume

AU Tomione. No time travel no time turners. - 'Are you not scared of him? Tom Riddle has got a rather peculiar reputation. But I'm sure it's all stupid talk. He's Head Boy after all.' - 'What kind of a reputation' - 'Er… he's… well, he seems kinda dark.'

https://archiveofourown.org/works/420241/chapters/700341

[hopeworldfan]

friends-with-benefits

summary: jungkook had a reputation and you were curious if he lived up to it.

pairing: jungkook/reader

word count: 10k+

genre: fluff, smut, angst, college!au

warning: smut, deepthroating, cunnilingus, dirty talk, jungkook is a dumbass, reader is a dumbass, i don’t understand body shots

Parties were never really your thing. They were loud, full of sweaty people, and almost everyone was drunk as fuck. The fact that you weren’t popular enough to get invited to any in high school had nothing to do with it. When college rolled around you didn’t have any plans to fall into the partying stereotype. You were going to keep your head down and focus on your studies, and you were never good at making friends so you doubted you would be getting invited to any wild parties anyway.

What you weren’t expecting to happen was for the girl who responded to your post on the university website about needing a roommate to end up being the exact opposite of what you were. Rose was amazing, everything every little girl dreamed of being; smart, funny, drop-dead gorgeous, and on the fast track to being the captain of the cheer squad her senior year. Typical stereotypes would peg her as being a stone-cold bitch, but she was honestly one of the nicest people you had ever fucking met. The two of you had very complementary personalities and it didn’t take long for the two of you to become best friends.

As Rose’s best friend, you were invited to parties by association, and she always made sure you went. At first, you were hesitant. You didn’t want to go and end up standing in a corner with a cup of warm beer you weren’t going to drink, but Rose always made sure you had a fantastic time. She introduced you to all of her friends and they all thought you were adorable and funny as fuck, so you fell in with the –quote, unquote- cool kids. 

It was so new, a complete one-eighty to what high school had been like for you. People knew who you were, they went out of their way to talk to you. For the first time, you didn’t dread group projects because no matter what class you were in, you had people who wanted to be in a group with you. Your confidence had literally never been higher. 

Yet, you were still single. Yeah, you were funny, and so many people loved you, but it was Rose that everyone wanted. Not that you blamed them because she was hands down the hottest person you had ever seen. You thought people like Rose only existed in magazines. Besides, you liked being single anyway. There was no drama, no heartbreak, you liked it that way.

“C’mon (y/n), let’s do body shots!” Rose suddenly shouted, and a cheer went up around the frat house you were currently in.  

“Fuck yes!” You shouted back with a giant grin, letting your best friend drag you along. You’d never had much shame, to begin with, plus you had enough alcohol running through your veins to throw all caution to the wind.

The table was quickly cleared when you arrived, and Rose was the first to jump on. She had a long line of willing volunteers to no one’s surprise. One boy made his way to the front and you grinned when you saw who it was.

“Joonie!” She cheered. Namjoon was the frat leader and Rose’s not boyfriend slash boyfriend. She claimed they weren’t dating, that she wasn’t looking for a serious relationship, but you saw the way they looked at each other, and you heard their kinky ass sex through the paper-thin walls of your shared apartment.

“Heard you were doing body shots, so I had to be the first in line.” He grinned and flashed a smile your way before turning his attention back to Rose. You really liked Namjoon, he was probably the sweetest guy you had ever met. He wasn’t at all what you expected of a frat leader. Whenever he was at your apartment, he’d make conversation with you, he’d approach you if he saw you on campus, and often times he’d invite you out when him and Rose were doing something. Plus he was probably one of the smartest people you had ever met and you would not have passed statistics without his help.

Almost too soon Namjoon was done with Rose and it was your turn to hop up on the table. Though you weren’t as popular as your friend, college boys weren’t picky, so you weren’t worried about no one lining up for you. However, you couldn’t mask your surprise when you looked up and saw Jeon Jungkook standing in front of you, his signature confident smirk on his face.

You knew who Jungkook was, you’d have to be stupid not to. Everyone knew who Jungkook was; a member of Namjoon’s frat, arguably one of the hottest guys on campus, and a complete fuckboy. A few of Rose’s friends loved to talk about how great he was in bed; you’d heard all the details surrounding the hookups. You had to admit, you were curious, and it had been so long since you’d been fucked, and he was standing in front of you looking like sex on a stick.

You’re not sure where the sudden confidence came from, either from the alcohol running through your veins or from the smirk on Jungkook’s face but you grabbed one of the nearby shot glasses and poured the tequila, stuck your fingers in the glass and make a streak down the side of your neck, sprinkled the salt, and nestled the shot glass right between your cleavage.

Someone handed you the slice of lime and you didn’t hesitate before putting it in your mouth, meeting Jungkook’s heated gaze and raising one of your eyebrows while the crowd around cheered and whistled. He stalked towards you, gripping your thighs and forcing them apart so he could slide in between your legs. The noise from the onlooking crowd only increased and you couldn’t help the blush that crept along your cheeks.

Jungkook didn’t say a word, just keeping that confident smirk on his face as he leaned down towards your neck. Your heartbeat increased and it took everything in you to silence the moan that wanted to slip out when you felt his tongue slowly lick up the side of your neck, going far past where the salt started and ended. He pulled back and dropped his head to your cleavage, grabbing the shot glass was with his mouth and tossing his head back. You watched in awe, admiring just how fucking hot he was.

He slammed the shot glass down next to you and his intense gaze caused a bolt of excitement to run through you. His hands crept further up your thighs and his face inched closer and closer to yours and your breath hitched when he finally grabbed the lime from your mouth. Your lips brushed against his and disappointment coursed through you when he pulled back, sucking the juice from the lime before tossing it.

You were just about to jump down from the table when Jungkook slid back between your legs. “Where do you think you’re going?”

The words were out of your mouth before you even had time to consider if it was a good idea or not. They didn’t call alcohol ‘liquid courage’ for nothing. “To your bedroom ideally.”

For the first time since your encounter began, the confident smirk slipped from his face and embarrassment flooded through you. He was looking at you with wide eyes, obvious surprised by your suggestion. It was a horrible idea; he probably had a dozen girls much prettier than you lined up to sleep with him. Of course, he wouldn’t choose you.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to let you down.” He finally said with a cheeky smile, nothing like his confident smirk from earlier. Before you could formulate a response, he hooked his arms under your thighs, lifting you from the table. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck and tightened your legs around his waist to keep yourself from hitting the floor.

The shouts and cheers from the crowd were deafening as he began carrying you to what you assumed was his room.  

“I’m perfectly capable of walking.” You protested somewhat weakly because holy shit you could feel his muscles rippling underneath the thin cotton of his shirt and that was hot at fuck.  

He chuckled in response. “You won’t be tomorrow; I’m just getting you used to it.”

A bolt of arousal shot through you at his promise. You never would have imagined this was where your night was going to go, but you were happily along for what was looking to be an exciting ride.

Jungkook shouldered open the door and effortlessly locked it before taking the last couple steps to his bed and putting you down with a gentleness you weren’t expecting. Your eyes had just started to wander around his room when his lips were suddenly against yours and all hope of rational thought was out of the window because his lips were so much softer than you expected and felt so good against yours.

His tongue swiped against your bottom lip, wordlessly asking permission and you all too happily gave it to him. You moaned into his mouth when he deepened the kiss and he pulled back with an airy chuckle.

“That’s a sound I can’t wait to hear more of.” You couldn’t fight the blush that spread across your cheeks and his lips were back on yours in the next instant. His hands tugged at the hem of your shirt and you broke away from each other, only for a moment so he could pull the fabric over your head and carelessly toss it. There wasn’t time to feel self-conscious before his lips were trailing down your jaw, moving down to your neck, leaving hot kisses in his wake. He stopped at the base of your neck to pay a little extra attention and you mewled when he found a sweet spot. “Fuck, you’re so fucking hot.”

You were practically preening at the complimented. It did wonders for your self-confidence to have a guy as hot as Jungkook think you were attractive.

“Are you going to spend all night kissing my neck or are you going to fuck me?” You asked because while the kisses were nice, you were so fucking horny and just wanted the godlike boy to fuck you so hard you couldn’t walk the next day like he promised. While you appreciated the foreplay, you were already soaked.

Jungkook growled which only fueled your arousal. “Someone’s eager.”

“Just wanna see if the great Jeon Jungkook lives up to the hype.” He paused for a second before throwing his head back and laughing.

“You really are something else (y/n),” He commented before reaching behind your back and deafly unhooking your bra with one hand. That shouldn’t have been as hot as you found it. “And don’t worry, I do.”

He stood up to finally dispose of his clothes and you shamelessly stared. You’d seen him shirtless before but had never wanted to ogle. Now, you had every excuse to ogle and you were taking the opportunity and running with it because holy fuck. It should have been illegal to look that fucking good. He caught you staring and confidently smirked. “See something you like?”

“I guess you could say that.” You replied immediately with a shrug of your shoulders, slipping your bra off and tossing it to the side before doing the same with your shorts and panties. You were thanking every god in existence you had taken the time to shave last night.

“Good, because so do I,” Jungkook said darkly, eyes drinking in your naked form. What you didn’t know was that he’d had his eyes on you for a while now. You were always at the same parties, hung around the same people, and he couldn’t help being drawn to your presence. There was just something about you, something about the way you always had a smile on your face, the way your nose scrunched up when you laughed, just, the way you were you. He’d wanted to get to know you, but you were Rose’s friend and he had a less than savory reputation, which meant Namjoon had explicitly warned him not to fuck with you when he had been caught staring one time.  

Jungkook respected his leader, and he knew you were too good for someone like him anyway, but then you showed up at the party looking hot as fuck and when he heard you were doing body shots…well, he physically could not stop himself. He wasn’t expecting you to be so confident, you had always seemed a little on the shy side and maybe it was only because you had alcohol running through your veins, but fuck, it only made him want you more. However, he still wasn’t planning on doing anything else other than maybe ask for your number, but then you were the one to suggest heading to his room and all of his self-control was out of the window.

Besides, this wasn’t going to be like with all the other girls he brought to his room. That was all just fun and games, him living up the college experience. It was different with you. Yeah, he wanted to fuck you, but it went beyond that. He wanted to get to know you, to hang out with your clothes still on, and sure things were backward as fuck now, but he wasn’t going to pass up the chance to sleep with you. He wasn’t an idiot.

“Fuck.” You breathed when Jungkook stepped out of his boxers and you finally saw his cock. It was big, of course, it was. Unease settled in the pit of your stomach, coupled with excitement which just left you feeling confused.

“You think you could take my cock, baby?” He grinned, wrapping one hand around his length and giving it a few pumps. You shivered when he moaned. Could you take it? You had no idea. Were you going to give it your fucking all though? Hell yes.

“I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” You said, a bit nervously when he joined you on the bed, having already slipped a condom on. He spread your legs wide, positioning himself right at your entrance. Unease and excitement shot through you again.

Should you tell him?

Did it make a difference?

Would this really be that different from all your other times?

Uh-” You started nervously and Jungkook immediately paused, meeting your eyes with a confused look. “I feel like I need to disclose something first.”

“Are you a virgin?” He asked immediately, eyes wide and you chuckled.

“Not technically?” You supplied with a sheepish smile, suddenly feeling the most embarrassed you had the entire night. Jungkook just raised an eyebrow at you and you sighed. “Um, well, I’ve never actually had sex with a guy before.”

“So, you’re a virgin.” He said simply and you shook your head.

“I mean, honestly, the whole concept of a ‘virgin’ is a scam in the first place because what really constitutes what a ‘virgin’ is in the first place?” You were rambling, you knew you were rambling. His cock was literally inches away from your pussy and you were rambling. That sounded about right, you needed to get to your point. “I’ve had sex with girls before, I’ve been fucked with strap on’s before, but never uhh the real thing, and you’re bigger than any of the straps I’ve been fucked with.”

You watched as Jungkook fully comprehended what you just said. The blank look on his face morphing from shock to curiosity, to surprise, before finally settling on a darker look that fed your arousal.

“I really didn’t think you could get any fucking hotter, but you proved me wrong.” Because the image of you being fucked by another girl with a strap on was just about the hottest thing Jungkook could have ever imagined.

“So yeah, uh, no pressure or anything but you’re representing the entire male population here.” You commented and Jungkook laughed before sliding his hands up your thighs. Goosebumps spread across your skin and your breath hitched when you grabbed the base of his cock and rubbed the head against your slick entrance.  

“I think I can handle that.” He smirked before his expression morphed into something softer. “Just let me know if you’re ever uncomfortable and I’ll stop.”

You nodded once and tried your best to relax when he started to slowly push into you.  

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” He hissed as your walls expanded to accommodate his size. You fisted the sheets and instinctively arched your back at the intrusion. It wasn’t painful, just mildly uncomfortable, but nothing you couldn’t handle.

You hadn’t even realized you closed your eyes until you felt a gentle kiss on your forehead and your eyes shot open. You hadn’t even realized Jungkook had shifted to where he was hovering only a few inches away from you. The concern on his face made your heart flutter. You were expecting a quick fuck, not for him to actually care.

“Are you okay?” He murmured and your heart skipped a beat. This wasn’t the fuckboy shit you signed up for.

“Yeah,” You replied immediately. “You’re just…really big.”

He dropped his head to where it was resting in the crook of your neck and you felt his whole-body shudder. “Fuck.”

You knew he was probably using every ounce of self-control to restrain himself. He continued slowly sheathing himself inside of you, careful not to make any sudden movements. His breath was hot against the base of your neck and you shivered when he moaned, finally bottoming out.

He was without a doubt, bigger than any of the straps you had been fucked with. You didn’t think you had ever had anyone reach of deep as he was. He rolled his hips the slightest bit and your right hand shot up to grip his bicep. The bitch felt rock solid and you didn’t think you could get any more turned on but holy fuck.

“Shit I’m sorry, did that hurt?” He asked immediately, raising his head to meet your eyes. A blush coated your cheeks.

“Quite the contrary, just fuck me already Jungkook.” You purred, stomach twisting in excitement when you saw how dark his eyes got.

“You got it baby girl.” You gasped when you completely pulled out of you and the sound became strangled when he roughly thrust back in. “Fuck (y/n), you feel so fucking good.”

You physically could not form words when he began harshly thrusting into you. The only thing you could do was throw your arms around his toned shoulders and hold on for dear fucking life. He hissed as your nails dug into his skin, scratching down the wide expanse of his back.  

“Do you like that? Do you like the way I’m fucking you?” He breathed, his breath hot against your ear. You should have known he would be into dirty talk, good thing that so were you.

“Fuck yes, oh god, I love the way your big cock feels in my pussy, the first real cock I’ve ever had.” You panted, shivering at the way Jungkook was moaning in your ear. There had never been a more erotic sound.

“You’re so filthy (y/n), what a dirty girl.” You mewled as his thrusts became shorter and more intense.

“Oh fuck.” You wouldn’t last much longer, you were surprised you had lasted as long as you did considering how long it had been since you’d been fucked so good. Jungkook was certainly living up to his reputation.

“Are you going to cum for me, baby? You going to cum all over my thick cock?” He groaned, feeling your walls tightening around him. Getting you to your peak before he let himself cum was so much harder than he thought it would be. You just felt so fucking good, and that coupled with the sounds you were making made it exceedingly difficult.  

“I’m going to cum oh my god, oh fuck Jungkook.” You babbled, on the verge of nonsensical. In the back of your mind, you were baffled that you were about to cum strictly from vaginal stimulation, that had never happened before. Your teeth dug into your bottom lip to keep from crying out when your orgasm hit you, trying to remember that you were in a frat house and there were rooms on either side of you.

“Oh fuck (y/n).” Jungkook groaned when your walls clamped down on his cock. He only managed a few more pumps before burying himself in you and letting his own orgasm wash over him. The two of you lay there for a few minutes, a thin layer of sweat coating your naked bodies as you tried to catch your breath.

“Well, you’ve definitely done your brethren justice.” You finally said with a playful grin, needing to say something lest you feel awkward as fuck. Jungkook lifted his head from where it was resting in the crook of your neck and laughed, a sound that caused butterflies to stir in your belly. He was so cute when he laughed.

“I’m glad.” He smiled before bringing his face down to yours and placing a gentle kiss against your lips. It took you by surprise. It was soft and tender and not something you expected from the infamous fuckboy. Maybe he had a soft side post orgasm. Whatever, you weren’t complaining.  

With a content sigh, Jungkook pulled back from you and rolled to his side, getting up and disposing of the condom. You admired the way the muscles on his back flexed with every movement he made. Damn, you really fucked that greek god of a man. Go you.

Despite your fatigue, you knew that typical one-night stand rules meant you didn’t spend the night, so you swung your legs over the side of the bed and tried to get to your feet. Tried being the keyword because your legs felt like fucking noodles and you immediately fell back onto the bed. Jungkook’s laugh rang through the room and a blush colored your cheeks.

“I did warn you.” He teased and you shot him a playful glare. “Where are you going off to anyway?”

You merely blinked at how owlishly. “Uhh, home?”

He tilted his head in confusion. “You can spend the night here, it’s super late and not safe in the slightest for you to head home now.”

Wow, he really was crushing all the fuckboy stereotypes you had about him. “Oh, okay. Well, I still have to get up so I can go to the bathroom.”

Jungkook nodded once before slipping on a pair of basketball shorts and grabbing a shirt and a pair of shorts from his dresser and tossing them at you. “Put that on and I’ll walk you the bathroom.”

You could have argued, but you really didn’t feel like squeezing back into your party clothes, so you just complied. The shirt fit loose around your body and you had to tie the shorts tight to keep them from falling. “You don’t have to walk me to the bathroom, I can make it myself.”

“One, you can barely stand up right now, and two, I’m not letting you wander out when there’s a bunch of drunk guys around.” Your heart did a little flip flop at his words and you just sighed because those were both excellent points. The second attempt at getting to your feet went better, though your legs trembled a bit with every step you took. Jungkook just had a very arrogant smirk on his face as he watched you walk like a newborn dear. That stroked his ego.

He wrapped one of his around your shoulders and led you to the bathroom. The music from downstairs was still going strong and you passed more than a few couples making out in the hallway. You were glad you didn’t see anyone you knew because it was pretty obvious what just happened by the marks littering your neck and the fact that a shirtless Jungkook had his arm around your shoulders.

He stood guard when you went into the bathroom to pee –because fuck UTI’s- and you grimaced when you got a good look at yourself in the mirror. That boy really showed no mercy to your neck. There was no way you could hide the plethora of hickeys. Everyone was going to know you got fucked. Oh well.

Jungkook grinned when you walked out and happily escorted you back to his room. You shimmied off his shorts and the two of you slid into his bed. It wasn’t how you had expected your night to end. You were going to have so much to tell Rose tomorrow.

“Why are you on the opposite side of the bed?” Jungkook laughed and you blushed again. Because you didn’t know what the fuck was going on anymore.

“Well, where am I supposed to be?” You asked a bit haughtily, turning to face him.

“In my arms?” He suggested, loving the way red colored your cheeks. His arms were opened wide and you shyly scooted closer to his side. He wrapped his arms around you, and you settled against his form. The arrangement was surprisingly comfortable. The fatigue from the day finally hit you and you felt yourself drifting off.

As if sensing you were about to fall asleep, Jungkook placed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Goodnight beautiful.”

“G’night.” You mumbled before drifting off.

You slipped into consciousness slowly, confused about your unfamiliar surroundings before you felt a pair of arms wrapped around your form and you remembered the events from the night before. Sunlight was beginning to peak through the curtains, and you craned your neck to see Jungkook’s sleeping face.

He looked so fucking cute. That had to be illegal. There was no trace of the guy who gave you perhaps the best orgasm of your life. Your heart skipped a beat and you mentally berated yourself. Down girl, you couldn’t go catch feelings for THE Jeon Jungkook. The two of you had a fantastic night, you had to take it and go.

As carefully as you could, you extracted yourself from Jungkook’s hold, not an easy task since he was holding onto you for dear life. You tiptoed around the room, grabbing your things and checking your phone, seeing a few texts from Rose. Hopefully, she didn’t think you were murdered last night.

Luckily, it was about six in the morning so you hoped you wouldn’t run into any of the guys as you snuck out, even though you were sure they were used to girls sneaking out. You spared one last look at Jungkook, noticing the way how his face had scrunched up as he patted the now empty side of his bed. With a sigh, you opened the door and made sure to quietly close it before making your escape.

“(y/n)?”  

You squeaked before whipping around, clutching your belongings to your chest. “Fuck Namjoon, you scared me!”

“What are you doing here?” He asked and you watched as his eyes traced your form, taking in your too big attire, the marks on your neck, and then taking in the door of the room you had just came out of.

“Uhh.” Was all you could manage.

“He’s kicking you out this early? I’ll talk to him, don’t worry.” Namjoon said and you could see the way his jaw clenched.

“Wait, no no no,” You started with a nervous laugh. “He didn’t kick me out, I just figured I should leave before things get awkward. I would have left last night but he didn’t want me leaving so late so here we are.”

Namjoon was silent for a beat as he comprehended what you said before sighing. “If you say so. Look, Jungkook is a little brother to me, but I know how he is. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

You were touched that Namjoon actually cared so much about you. Rose really needed to cuff that man. “I appreciate the concern Namjoon, but I know what I’m doing. I can take care of myself.”

He placed a hand on your shoulder and smiled down at you. “If you say so. Well, Rose is in my room and I was about to drive her home so you could tag along.”

“Perfect.” You grinned.

Rose managed to keep her questions to herself until the two of you were back inside your shared apartment. She had practically been vibrating the whole drive home.

“(y/n)!” She squealed the minute the door shut. “You fucked Jungkook?!”

You laughed sheepishly, bring a hand up to rub the back of your neck. “Is it that obvious?”

“Bitch! Anybody with two eyes could see you got fucked last night when you add that a whole house party saw him literally carry you to his room…yes it’s that obvious!”

Oh yeah, you forgot about the very public sweeping you off your feet. “Well, uhh, yeah.”

Rose squealed again, grabbing your hands and pulling you onto the couch. “Tell me everything! Was he really as good as all the girls say he is?”

“Oh my god,” You groaned, throwing your head back to rest on the couch. “Rose, he’s even better. Hands down the best sex I have ever had, and I’ve had some pretty good sex.”

“Ugh, I’m so happy for you! Just be careful, I don’t want you getting attached and getting hurt.” She said, concern clear on her face.

“Don’t worry Rose, I know it was just sex, I know how it works. You know, Namjoon was worried about it too, he’s really sweet.” You watched the blush coat Rose’s cheeks and the dreamy look in her eye at the mention of Namjoon.

“I know. He’s great in bed too.”

You just shook your head. “He really wasn’t what I was expecting though.”

Rose cocked her head in interest. “What do you mean?”

“Like, he was sweet. Not that I was expecting him to be an asshole or anything, but the way he kissed me when all was said and done took me by surprise and he was super cuddly. It was wild.”

Your friend’s forehead scrunched in confusion. “Wait wait wait, back up. He kissed you after sex? And hold up, you were there this morning, so you spent the night?”

Your expression mirrored hers at how baffled she sounded. “Uhh yeah. He kinds insisted I stay the night.”

“And you just slept? No round two? Or three?”

“No, we just slept.”

“Huh,” Rose said after a minute, “From what I’ve heard from other girls, for one he doesn’t kiss after sex, and I’ve definitely never heard of girls spending the night just to sleep.”

“Huh, I dunno. Maybe he just didn’t want Namjoon to be mad at him since I’m your friend. It’s whatever, we had a great time, I’m satisfied.” You replied with a shrug. Rose still looked like she was thinking, but you couldn’t let yourself dwell on it. It was just sex; you couldn’t get your hopes up.

Jungkook was confused when he woke up alone, but just figured you had plans or something, even if he would have preferred to wake up with you in his arms. He’d just slid out of bed when his door swung open and Namjoon stormed in. Uh oh.

“I asked one thing of you Jungkook, asked you to stay away from one girl on campus.” He started, arms crossed and staring down the younger boy.

“It’s not like that hyung!” He defended.  

“Then tell me what it’s like.”

“I like her.” He admitted, red tinting his face as he stared at the ground. “Yeah things are a little backwards right now, but the sex was her idea and I wasn’t going to say no!”

“You like her?” Namjoon repeated, finding it hard to believe. For as long as he’d known the younger boy, his serious relationships had been far and in-between, not to mention short.  

“Yeah,” He replied. “This isn’t what I do with the other girls. I want to get to know her better.”

Namjoon sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Fine, I’ll believe you, but I swear to god Jungkook if I find out you’re pulling some fuck shit on (y/n) I’m going to beat your ass, and not just because of Rose. I like her, she’s a sweet girl.”

“I promise hyung.” Jungkook stressed and Namjoon sighed again before leaving.

By the time Monday rolled around, you felt ready to conquer the world. It was funny how getting dicked down so good could do that to you. Your skin was clear, your crops thriving, you were ready to face anything the world was going to throw at you.

“(y/n)!” An all too familiar voice shouted, halting your walk across campus. You whipped around immediately, and your eyes widened when you saw Jungkook striding towards you, a giant grin on his face.

Okay, maybe you weren’t ready for anything? Because this you weren’t ready for.

“Oh, hey Jungkook.” You smiled, still confused. Was this normal? You were fully prepared to never talk to Jungkook again, not wanting to seem stupid for thinking that the sex meant something.

“You left so early the other morning. I had wanted to get your number.” He admitted, looking slightly sheepish. It was entirely different fromthe confident guy from the other night. It was endearing.

“My number?” You parroted, still feeling like you were in an alternate reality. Why would Jeon Jungkook want your number?

He chuckled and your heart fluttered. “Uhm yeah. How else am I supposed to contact you?”

Duh. How else was he supposed to contact you? That made perfect sense.

…

Nope, you were still baffled. However, you gave him your number because it would have been foolish to say no. “Great! Uhm, I’ll text you later?”

He was staring down at you with those dark brown eyes and you felt your mouth go dry. What was happening? What universe did you stumble into? This wasn’t what you signed up for.

“Uhh yeah.”

Things only got weirder when he actually texted you like ten minutes later. He had wanted to wait longer than that but physically could not stop himself because he just wanted to talk to you immediately. You were surprised to find that you really liked talking to Jungkook. He was funny and seemed genuinely interested in your thoughts and ideas.

However, in the back of your mind you had to keep reminding yourself that he was a fuckboy! You didn’t know what his aim was but catching feelings would only end up with your being hurt, you were sure of it.

That didn’t stop you from talking to him though because you were a dumb bitch who loved getting her hopes up.

Friends what benefits. That’s the label that made the most sense for you because, after a few days of texting and a few hours at the coffee shop, you were in a very familiar position that involved your legs in the air and Jungkook between them. Then a few days turned into a few weeks and suddenly three months had gone by.

“Fuck, yes, just like that.” Jungkook groaned, one of his hands fisted in your hair and you took his cock down your throat. There were tears pooling in the corner of your eyes, but you fought to keep your throat relaxed as your nose was buried in his carefully trimmed pubic hair. You were thanking that one ex-girlfriend who had a thing for seeing you deepthroat her strap because you had a lot of experience in this area.

However, you were still struggling more than you would have liked to due to his size and you had to pull back a minute later before you started choking.  

“You’re fucking amazing.” Jungkook sighed, helping you to your feet and crashing his lips against yours. “Lay down so I can return the favor.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice; you were already dripping from blowing him and were curious to see just how talented he was with his tongue.

“Fuck you’re so wet and I haven’t even touched you.” He observed and you blushed.

“It’s your fault, so get down there and deal with the consequences.”  

“Yes , ma’am.” He grinned before doing a fake salute and lowering his head to place gentle kisses to your inner thighs. You sighed contently, it had been so long since you’d been eaten out and you had a suspicion that Jungkook would be exceptionally good at it. “My favorite meal of the day.”

A sarcastic reply was on your lips, but it dissipated when he flattened his tongue and licked up the entirety of your slit, doing circles around your clit when he reached it.  

“Oh, fuck Jungkook.” You shuddered and you heard him chuckle before diving right back in. That man was talented with his tongue in a way that downright sinful. When he sucked on your clit you bucked up against him and he brought his hands to your hips, pinning you to the bed.

“Don’t worry baby, you’re going to ride my face one day, but not today.” He promised and you groaned, throwing your head back against your pillows. “Your pussy tastes so good, the sweetest treat I’ve ever had.”

You mewled at the compliment, bringing your hands to your chest and tweaking your nipples as his tongue worked wonders. His teeth gently grazed against your clit and your whole body trembled. One of his fingers slipped into you and you moaned loudly, not caring that you didn’t know if Rose was home or not. Jungkook’s pace only increased at your reaction and he slipped a second finger in.

“Oh my god.” You cried out, feeling the pressure building.

“Are you going to cum (y/n), cum all over my face?” He prompted, raising his head to look at your trembling form. It took everything in him not to cum right then and there, just from getting you off.  

“Yes, oh fuck Jungkook, I’m going to cum.” You were so close, so fucking close. Jungkook knew it was almost there and he toyed with the idea of edging you. It was something he wanted to see, you begging for release, crying because of how bad you wanted to cum. One look at the fucked out look on your face and he decided to save that for another day.

Your release hit you hard and you couldn’t do more than gasp at the intensity of it. Jungkook didn’t stop either, making sure to squeeze out every last bit of pleasure before lifting his head and grinning at you. He licked his lips and you shivered when he brought his hand to his mouth and licked his fingers clean.

He moved between your legs to hover over your, bringing his lips down to yours and you moaned into the kiss, the mix of his saliva and your pussy tasting way too fucking good. You stayed like that for a few minutes, letting your sensitivity fade a bit. You appreciated the thought even if you did like toying with overstimulation sometimes, that was a conversation for a different time.

You both moaned when he finally pushed into you, easily sliding in since you were still soaked from your orgasm.  

“You take my cock so well baby.” Jungkook praised and you clenched around his cock, he immediately noticed, and a shit-eating grin was plastered across his face. “Do you have a praise kink (y/n)?”

“Oh my god can you just fuck me?” You asked, trying to deflect the question because the answer was a giant ‘yes’.

Luckily Jungkook complied, pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back in. This time was different from the first time, maybe because he had a better idea of what you could handle, maybe because you were more comfortable around each other, maybe because neither of you had been drinking, either way, it was somehow even better. Something you hadn’t thought was possible.

You didn’t stay in missionary for long this time and you weren’t complaining because the way Jungkook was hitting it from the back had your eyes rolling to the back of your head. He was hitting even deeper than before and you hadn’t even thought that was possible. His grip was tight around your hips and you were certain there would be bruises tomorrow which only turned you on even more.

“Fuck yes baby, you take my cock so well, your pussy was made for my cock.” He growled, roughly slamming into you.  

“You fuck me so good Jungkook, never been fucked this good before.” You panted, sweat dripping down your forehead.  

“I’m the only one who can make you feel this good, no one else can fuck you like this.” His thrusts were starting to become uneven and you knew that meant he was getting close. So were you, but it wasn’t until one of his hands moved to your clit that you felt your second orgasm of the night really start to build. “Cum for me (y/n), be a good girl and cum all over my cock.”

That was all it took for you to reach your peak. You collapsed against your pillow, keeping your ass in the air as Jungkook pounded into you, thrusts short and intense.

“Fuck, can I cum on your back?”

“Please do.”

He pulled out of you and you heard the lewd sound of his hand moving up and down on his cock. You craned your neck to watch as his finished himself off, and the look on his face when he finally came was one of the most beautiful things you had ever seen. Streams of cum hit your back and you shivered.

Jungkook sighed contently, pausing for a minute to take in the sight of you, naked, ass in the air, pussy still glistening, and his cum painted on your back. He wanted to engrave it in his memory.

“Towels are in the second drawer in the bathroom.” You offered, the novelty of having cum on your back quickly fading. Yeah ,it was hot having him cum on you, but that didn’t change the fact that you thought cum was gross. You knew some girls thought it was hot, but that was not you.

“Oh shit, yeah, be right back.”

“Hey Jungkook.” You heard Rose greet when he walked out of your room and you couldn’t help but laugh.  

“Oh, uhm, hey.” He replied awkwardly and you laughed again. You heard your door close and sighed thankfully when he wiped his cum off with a wet towel. “Do you think she heard us?”

Finally, able to fully collapse on your bed, you did so with a happy sigh. “Oh definitely, these walls are paper thin.”

You turned your head to see Jungkook looking the slightest bit sheepish. “Believe me Jungkook, she deserves it. I’ve had to listen to her and Namjoon’s kinky ass sex more times than I can count.”

He laughed at that and your stomach flipped. You liked his laugh.

“You should have said something; I could have had you really screaming.” You instinctively squeezed your thighs together.

“Is that a promise?” You asked innocently and saw the way his eyes darkened.

“Wanna find out?”

The breathy ‘yes’ was barely out of your mouth before his lips were on yours.

Jungkook didn’t leave until the next morning and you were sitting at the dining room table, a cup of coffee in your hand and a peaceful smile on your face.

“Okay, we’re having an intervention,” Rose said seriously, plopping down across from you with a serious look on your face.

“What are you talking about Rose?” You laughed, the smile slipping when you saw that she wasn’t joking.

“What is going on with you and Jungkook? And don’t give me that friends-with-benefits bullshit.”

“But that’s what we are.” You defended and your best friend threw her hands up in the air.

“No, you’re not (y/n). Friends-with-benefits don’t do the shit that you two do, they don’t go on dates, they don’t bring you flowers, they don’t cuddle and watch movies.”

“They’re not dates.” You weakly protested because, in the back of your mind, you knew that. You knew that wasn’t normal friends-with-benefits activities, but that was the only way you could think to label what you and Jungkook had.

“Babe,” Rose said softly, the frustration fading to concern. “You’re in love with him, I can see it clear as day.”

And there it was. The thing you had been vehemently denying every time your heart fluttered or you thought about just how nice his lips were. Tears began streaming down your face before you could stop them, and Rose jumped up.

“Wait! Don’t cry! He loves you too you dummy!” She said frantically and your eyes shot up to meet hers.

“What are you talking about?” You sniffed.

“God you’re an idiot, and I mean that in the nicest way possible. That boy brings you flowers, takes you on dates, and didn’t you tell me he ate you out for thirty minutes straight the other day? Only stopping because you insisted?”

A blush coated your cheeks as you remembered the incident she referred to. “Okay? That doesn’t mean he’s in love with me.”

Rose sighed. “So Namjoon told me not to say anything but Jungkook told him that he liked you, and that was way back when you first slept together, and we were talking about it the other day and Joon said he hasn’t brought a girl home that wasn’t you since that night. I see the way he looks at you babe, he’s so whipped it’s ridiculous, he would do anything you asked him.”

You were reeling from your best friends’ words. That was impossible. There had to be some kind of explanation because there was no way someone like Jungkook would ever like someone like you. It was like Rose could read your mind and her expression softened. “(Y/N), why is it so hard for you to believe that Jungkook actually has feelings for you too? To the point that you wrote off everything the two of you did as ‘friendly’. When have we ever cuddled like that while watching movies?”

You looked down at the table, fiddling with your thumbs. “I just, Jungkook is really hot and super popular, and I’m just…me.”  

“And you’re fucking amazing babe, really hot and super popular and the funniest person I’ve ever met. I’m pretty sure my friends like you more than they like me at this point. Look just…talk to him. Even if by some one in a million chance he says he doesn’t feel the same way, I know you have feelings for him and you can’t keep seeing him like this if he doesn’t feel the same because that’s not healthy. There’s a party at the frat house this weekend, please, talk to him.”

“Okay Rose, I will.” You promised; head still muddled.

You were the walking dead a few days later as you trudged across campus to your lecture. It was midterm time and you had been up literally all night studying for it. It was going on hour twenty-three of being awake and you had a full day ahead of you. You felt like shit.

“(y/n)!” It took your tired brain a second to register that someone was even calling your name, and another second to recognize the voice, but when you did your heart skipped a beat. When you turned around and saw Jungkook striding towards you, a cup of coffee in his hands and a smile on his face, your heart was ready to stop. Rose’s words were still running through your head and you couldn’t look the boy in the eyes, even when he was finally standing right in front of you.

“Hey Jungkook,” You greeted softly. It was too much, too early, and you were too tired. You didn’t want to have to think about how you were in love with the hot guy in front of you, not when you were already past the point of anything feeling real due to sleep deprivation. “What’s up?”

“Here, I figured you’d need this after all the studying you did last night. You’re on your way to your test right? I know you’re gonna kill it!”  

Your eyes shot up, seeing the boyish smile on his face and the coffee he was offering in his outreached hand. He really wasn’t helping the whole ‘in love with him’ situation. “Oh my god, you didn’t have to do this.”

His smile only grew wider as he watched the blush color your cheeks. “I know, I did it because I wanted to. Take it, I got it just the way you liked it.”

You shyly took the coffee from his hands and took a little sip. He really did get it just the way you liked it. How did he even remember that? You’d only gotten coffee together like twice. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

“You can show your appreciation by giving me a kiss.” He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. This wasn’t friends-with-benefits behavior, but you complied anyway because what were you going to do? Tell him no? So you reached up on your tiptoes and gently pressed your lips against his.

It was so different from your normal, lust-filled, passion-driven kisses. There was no smashing of lips, no heavy breathing, not bites and moans. It was soft, and tender, and made your whole chest feel warm. How did you not realize you were in love with him before because it was glaringly obvious now.

“You’re coming to the party on Saturday, right?” He asked when you pulled apart.

“Yeah, about that,” You started awkwardly. “I uhh, need to talk to you about something, maybe after the party? I have midterms all week so that’s the next time I’m free.”

He brought one hand to the side of your face and you instinctively leaned into his touch. You were fucking whipped. “Of course babe. Is something wrong?”

The genuine concern on his face took you by surprise. “No! Nothing’s wrong.”

“Okay.” He said with a gentle smile before lowering his face to yours and placing a gentle kiss to your lips. “One more for good luck. Now go show that test who’s boss.”

“Sir yes sir.” You smiled.

The party was in full swing by the time you and Rose arrived. She tried to stick by your side, but you shooed her away. You didn’t exactly want her on your hip when you talked to Jungkook. The whole situation would be embarrassing enough without having your best friend witness it.

It was surprisingly hard to find said boy. He was usually at the center of the party, but you couldn’t find hide nor hair of him.

“Hey (y/n)!” You whipped around, smiling when you saw Namjoon standing behind you.

“Hey Joon!” You greeted over the almost deafening music. “Have you seen Jungkook?”

The older boy seemed to think for a minute before answering. “I think he went grab something from his room.”

“Thanks!”  

“See you later!”

You knew the way to Jungkook’s room like the back of your hand having been there so often lately. Your heart was racing a million miles a minute with the thought of just why you were seeking out the boy. This conversation was no something you wanted to have, but Rose was right, you were in love with him. If he didn’t feel the same way, continuing to sleep with him wouldn’t be healthy.

His door was cracked open when you approached it and you paused to collect yourself. After taking a deep breath, you reached forward to push open the door, but your movements froze when you heard a very much female voice coming from the room.

“C’mon Kook,” The voice giggled. “We always have fun together; I miss that cock of yours.”

What the fuck? You shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be listening to this, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Besides, he could reject her advances, you couldn’t jump to conclusions just because of what she said.

“I said no Amber.” You exhaled softly, feeling some of the tension slip away. Okay, good thing you didn’t immediately jet out assuming the worst. “I have a girlfriend.”

Nope, you should have jetted out because this was so much worse. Right when you were about to back up and make your heartbroken escape, some drunk frat boy bumped into you, propelling you forward into the room.

“Shit.” You squeaked, landing on your knees.  

“(Y/N)?” Your eyes shot up, meeting Jungkook equally surprised look. The girl, Amber or whatever, was standing incredibly close to him, one hand pressed firmly against his chest. That wasn’t what bothered you though, it was the fact that he had a girlfriend.

You didn’t say anything, you couldn’t even if you wanted to. He had a girlfriend. What did that make you then? The side piece? Did she even know about you? The thought made you want to throw up.

“(Y/N)! Wait!” Jungkook shouted frantically when you scrambled to your feet and darted out of the room. You had to get away from him because you were going to cry, and that last thing you wanted was for him to see you cry.

Unfortunately, your legs were short and his were long, so you’d only made it a few steps before his hand was wrapped around your arm, halting your fleeing.

“Let go of me.” You said quietly, pathetically. It made you cringe; you didn’t want to sound pathetic. You wanted to sound angry, you wanted to be angry. To yell at him, to hit him, but all you felt was such a crushing sadness it felt like you were drowning.

“It wasn’t what it looked like babe.” He said desperately, begging you to believe him.

“Don’t call me that.” You shot back. “And let me go.”

“(Y/N) please, you have to believe me, I-”

“I said let go!” You shouted, louder that time and managing to draw the attention of a few people. You lifted your head, meeting his gaze and his grip on your arm loosened when he saw the tears beginning to stream down your face.

“Babe…” You took the opportunity to tear yourself from his grip and throw yourself into the crowd of people. There wasn’t any particular direction in your mind, you just had to get away, and that’s how ended up literally running into Namjoon.

“Whoa there, tiger.” He said jokingly, using his arms to steady you. The smile dropped from his face when he saw the tears trailing down your face. “(y/n), what’s wrong?”

“Can you take me home? Please. I want to go home.” You sobbed and he paused for a few seconds before nodding and scanning the crowd.

“Just, stay here for a few seconds, sweetheart, I’ll be right back.” He said and you nodded, wrapping your arms around yourself. He was back in a few seconds like promised, and your tears only started coming faster when Rose wrapped herself around you.

“Baby oh my god, what happened?”

“I just want to go home, please Rose.” You cried and she nodded, guiding you out of the frat house and into Namjoon’s car.

They were both quiet the whole way home, just letting you cry. Rose sat with you in the backseat, keeping you in her arms. They didn’t poke and prod about what happened even though you knew they both had to have some kind of an idea.  

“(Y/N), what happened?” Rose asked softly as you curled up on the couch. She took a seat next to you and Namjoon stood nearby.

“I’m so fucking stupid.” You muttered, feeling tears begin to prick at your eyes again. “He has a girlfriend.”

“What are you talking about?” Your best friend prompted.

“Jungkook, he has a girlfriend. Some girl was coming onto him and he rejected her, saying he has a girlfriend.” You buried your face in your arms, curling into an even tighter ball. The hand on your back stilled and you could feel the anger radiating from Rose.

“Joon. Outside. Now.” She barked and you watched the two of them leave the apartment. You’d never heard your best friend yell, you weren’t sure she was even capable of it, but she was so loud you could hear it from inside. Great, now you were fucking up her relationship.

Wiping the tears from your face, you got to your feet and migrated to your room, collapsing onto your bed and willing yourself to sleep, not wanting to have to face the real world anymore.

Jungkook was more stressed than he could remember. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, and seeing the way you looked at him, he knew that’s exactly what happened. But it was all just a misunderstanding! Amber was coming onto him, and he was rejecting her! You just came in at the wrong time and fuck, you just wouldn’t listen to him.

He’d been blowing up your phone with messages and calls, but you were ignoring him. How did things go so wrong so quickly? Things had been going so well between the two of you. He had just picked up his phone to call you for the umpteenth time when his bedroom door was slammed open and Namjoon stormed in.

“Jungkook, what the fuck?!” The older boy roared and Jungkook immediately took a step back. Namjoon didn’t anger easily, and he couldn’t remember a time when he’d seen him this angry.

“It’s a misunderstanding, hyung! Amber was coming on to me, but I rejected her!” Jungkook defended immediately, already knowing why his frat leader was so angry.

“That’s not the issue! You have a fucking girlfriend?! I told you not to pull any fuck shit with (y/n), stringing her along while you have a girlfriend qualifies as fuck shit! And who is this girl anyway? You haven’t brought anyone over but (y/n)?”

Jungkook’s mind was reeling. “Hyung, what are you talking about?”

“She heard you tell Amber you have a girlfriend!”

“(Y/N) is my girlfriend!” Jungkook stressed and saw the way Namjoon’s face morphed from anger to confusion.

“What?”

“We’ve been dating for almost three months.” The two boys just stared at each other for a minute before a Namjoon started laughing. “Hyung, what’s so funny? Who else would my girlfriend be?”

It took a few minutes for Namjoon to compose himself enough to actually reply to the younger boy. “Jungkook, let me ask you something. Did you ever ask (y/n) to be your girlfriend?”

“Uhh, I mean, no…but we go on dates and I bring her flowers and we talk all the time…and have a lot of sex.” He replied sheepishly and Namjoon started laughing again. “Stop laughing!”

“You’re such an idiot.” He said in-between laughs. “You can’t just assume things like that Jungkook. (Y/N) thought the two of you were friends-with-benefits, then she heard you telling Amber that you had a girlfriend tonight and thought you were talking about some other girl.”

Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat. That was it? That’s why you were upset?  

“Go fix this Jungkook, and please just tell that girl you’re in love with her.” Namjoon didn’t have to tell him twice.

“(Y/N), get up!” A voice hissed, pulling you out of her deep sleep. “Get your dumb ass up right now I swear to god.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be nice to me? Heartbroken, remember?” You groaned, sitting up and glaring at your best friend.

“Jungkook is here and you’re going to talk to him.” Your heart immediately dropped to your stomach.

“What kind of best friend are you? Aren’t you supposed to hate him with me?”  

“Get up and go talk to him before I drag you out of this bed.” She threatened and you huffed before sliding out of your bed. Jungkook was the last person you wanted to talk to, but you knew better than to test your normally mild-mannered friend. “He’s standing outside.”

“Fine.” You grumbled, throwing on a pair of sweatpants and trudging to your front door. It wasn’t like you could avoid Jungkook forever, you were hoping for at least a few days though. Your hand was heavy on the doorknob. He was right on the other side, the boy you loved, the boy who had a girlfriend.  

Might as well get the shitshow over with. Then you could go back to your normal, boy-free life and happily swear off relationships for the rest of your life.

“What do you want Jungkook?” You asked immediately after swinging the door open. Seeing him took your breath away, why did he have to look so good all the time?

“You’re my girlfriend!” He shouted immediately and you just blinked up at him.  

“What?” Was all you could manage, and his hands moved to grip your shoulders.

“I was talking about you, you’re my girlfriend. Or, I thought you were, I thought we were dating. I really like you (y/n) and we were spending all that time together and going on dates, I kind of just assumed we were in a relationship.” He confessed, a blush creeping across his cheeks. You were still speechless, unable to think of anything to say in response.

“Wait, how long did you think we’ve been dating?” You finally asked, forehead scrunched in confusion.

“Since the first time, we went out for coffee.” He mumbled, clearly embarrassed.

“Huh.”  

“Huh?” Jungkook parroted.  

“I really am an idiot.” You said with a sharp laugh. “God it all makes sense looking back at it, I was so convinced that you couldn’t possibly have feelings for me that I just wrote it off as being friends.”

“Friends don’t have the kind of sex that we do.” Jungkook pointed out and you giggled.

“Friends-with-benefits?” You suggested and he just shook his head. “I just…I’m sorry.”

Jungkook cocked his head. “Why are you apologizing? I should be the one to apologize for not being clearer.”

“I just don’t understand why you’d want to date me.” You confessed softly, dropping your gaze to the floor.

“Hey,” Jungkook breathed. “Look at me.”

You lifted your head, locking eyes with him and feeling your heart thud painfully against your chest. He was so gorgeous.

“You are so amazing and funny and beautiful. I literally love everything about you, spending time with you is my favorite thing to do. I just, I really like you.” You were both blushing at his confession. “And the way you take my cock down your throat is the hottest fucking thing on the planet.”

You slapped his shoulder as he laughed. “Way to ruin a touching moment.”

“We can have other touching moments.” He suggested with a smirk and you rolled your eyes.

“I,” You started. “I really like you too Jungkook.”

“Good.” He chuckled. “It would have been awkward if you said you didn’t after all that.”

His large hands cupped your face, tilting your head up so he could press his lips against yours. You melted into the kiss immediately.

“Just one question.” He said, breaking apart to smile at you. “Will you be my girlfriend.”

You laughed before leaning forward to touch your lips to his. “Yes.”

[thewritewolf]

Eating Habits Chapter 5: The Storm

The gang goes to a Jagged Stone concert and everybody gets a little more concerned about Marinette.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 (Final)

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

The roar of the crowd helped to drown out the sound of Marinette’s heart pounding in her chest. It had been ages since she had gotten to go to a concert. There had always been something going on to stop her, whether it was akuma attacks, studying, or helping at the bakery. And while she was sure there was probably something she should have been working on, what was she going to do? Tell Jagged Stone, ‘Sorry, can’t go. I’ve got some embroidery to finish a week ahead of time. I’m sure you understand.’

And Jagged probably would have too, but he’d also have been sad, and that was the last thing Marinette wanted. It would have been a poor way to repay him after he had helped Nino get his internship with his production company.

As she flashed her VIP pass to the security guards standing at the backstage, Marinette smiled. At least this wouldn’t be like attending just any old concert. Jagged Stone had made sure to give them only the best seats in the house and backstage passes besides. He always liked when she visited before the show started. Something about her being his lucky charm. If only Jagged knew the half of it…

Marinette lead the four of them through the ordered chaos that was the dimly lit backstage, straight for the source of the ordered part of the chaos.

“Hi, Penny! How are you doing?”

“Marinette, honey!” Penny wrapped her in a hug. “Now I know tonight is going to go smoothly, with you around.”

Marinette giggled. “Jagged finally get to you? Trust me, I’m not as lucky as he thinks I am.”

“Don’t confuse lucky and clumsy, sweetie,” Adrien said beside her. “You’ve got plenty of both to go around.” He kissed the back of her hand that he was holding while she huffed at him. Alya and Nino snickered behind them.

Penny smirked. An assistant rushed up and whispered something urgently in her ear. She cursed in English. “It was great to see you, but I’ve got to get back to it.” She pointed with her thumb over her shoulder. “My hubby is over there if you wanted to say hello before we get started.”

“Thanks, Penny!” Marinette said to her retreating back. She guided them over in the direction Penny pointed them in, descending into the basement of the building. Once the roar of the crowd was dulled by the walls, it was easy to follow the sounds of idle strumming. It was never hard to find Jagged Stone once you were in ear range of him.

Marinette knocked on the door that had his name on it before gently pushing it open. On the other side, Jagged was checking himself out in the mirror while Fang slept on a nearby chaise. He noticed her arrival in his reflection and quickly turned around, a big grin on his face.

“Hey, love! You made it after all. And I see you brought me my tune master,” he said while fist bumping Nino. “Enjoying your day off, my dude?”

“You know it, boss man!” Nino finger gunned at him. “Decided to listen to some quality music tonight, ya know?”

Jagged chuckled. “And I bet the free seats from the little lady helped too, huh?” He looked past him to Adrien and Alya, who he quickly wrapped up in one armed hugs. “You must be the better halves, yeah?”

“Well,” Adrien said with a light blush, “I wouldn’t say that, but-”

“Hell yeah I am,” Alya grinned.

Still smiling, Jagged turned his attention to Marinette. His smile vanished, replaced by naked concern. “Woah, love. You’re looking less rock ‘n roll than usual. Are you sleeping? Maybe had a bite to eat in the last week?”

Marinette grimaced. Maybe it was to be expected - her friends had certainly been babying her recently, even if they were trying to be subtle about it. Jagged had always acted like a caring uncle to her, something that had only gotten more pronounced after Penny gave birth.

Plastering a smile on her face, she said, “Oh, you know. Uni has been pretty rough, but I’m hanging on. But I’m here to forget all that by rocking out!” She threw up metal horns and Jagged’s grin came back as he returned the gesture.

“Rockin’! But remember to take care of yourself, love. I’d like to keep my best concept artist in one piece.” He winked at her. “It’s been way groovy to see you all, but you’d better get out there if you want to be ready. I’ll make sure this performance is nothing to miss.” He strummed a power chord on his guitar.

“See ya later, boss man!”

Jagged grinned and nodded his chin at Nino as they walked away. The sound of his solo still audible through the door.

Marinette pouted as they made their way back to the concert area. It was irritating that he’d singled her out like that, but before long they were back in the crowd near its front. Being back in among the excited energy of the throng made sure that her irritation didn’t last long. They were playing some tunes to get people distracted, turning the crowd floor into a dance floor. Naturally, Adrien pulled her close as they rocked out to the music together and soon the only thing going through her head was the beat of the music.

It was pretty jarring when the placeholder music pumped out through the speakers stopped, but only for a moment as the real concert started. The experience of dead silence as Jagged Stone appeared on the stage in full Rock and Roll glory, only for the moment to suddenly break as hundreds of voices began screaming all at once… it was something that Marinette never got used to. The only problem?

Marinette was very short.

Even up in the front, it was starting to hurt her neck to stare up at the stage and peer between the few people in her way. She silently stamped her foot in frustration, plotting to find a better vantage point.

At least until Adrien caught her wrist. He motioned her towards him as he turned his back toward her and crouched down. Even without words, Marinette picked up on what he was trying to say and climbed on. While she’d certainly been in more dangerous situations before, rising up on her boyfriend’s shoulders and breaking above the crowd made her uneasy and she gripped his head to keep her balance.

She only hesitantly let go when she felt his strong hands gripping her bare thighs, an electric tingle rushing up her body at the touch. She was suddenly very glad that she’d chosen to wear shorts for this concert. Hoping to repay him a little, she ran her fingers through her wonderful boyfriend’s hair before turning her attention back to the show and her new vantage point.

The music pounding in her ears, the roar of the crowd that she could now see over, the feel of Adrien below her… it was all intoxicating. For just a few hours, she let herself not have a care in the world.

-------------------

Naturally, the cares really snuck up on her the following morning. She jolted awake a few minutes before her alarm went off, which was the least ideal time for her to wake up. In her panic she threw herself out of bed and rushed to get ready for university. If she wanted to catch up on everything she needed to do, she’d have to skip breakfast… and get greasy fast food. Even in her frantic state, she scrunched up her nose at that. The sacrifices that had to be made for art.

She burst into her living room and smelled something cooking in the kitchen. There was no wall between the two rooms, so she could easily see the source. Her thoughts came to a grinding halt when she saw Adrien laboring shirtless over the stove. As she froze, the floorboards creaked underneath her and he turned around, spatula still in hand.

“Oh!” His smile was dazzling, especially given how early it was. “Good morning, bugaboo.” His eyes swept over her hungrily. “You’re looking pawsitively stunning. Care to join me for breakfast?”

“Morning, handsome.” She crossed the space between them and snared his lips with her own, her fingers dancing across his bare chest. “And I can’t stay, I’ve got to go into class.”

His eyes were dragged downward just as his eyebrows rose. “...That so?”

Confused, she glanced down, only to let out a mortified squeak when she realized she had forgotten to put on pants. She struggled to pull her shirt down to cover herself, managing a glare when Adrien chuckled.

“You know I saw way more of you last night, right?” He waggled his eyebrows and gave her that cheshire cat grin that she had so thoroughly associated with her partner. It was hard to believe their identities had been a secret at some point. “Butt hey! If this is the latest fashion trend, then who am I to argue?”

She huffed and turned around to storm back into her room, which conveniently hid the smile she had cracked at his pun.

“Breakfast is waiting for you, sweetie!” He called after she shut her door.

After digging through her clean clothes pile, she fished out a serviceable pair of leggings and stepped back out into the kitchen. He looked her over and gave her a thumbs up. Deciding she didn’t want to waste the food Adrien had made for her, she took a seat across the table from him. His chin propped up on his hand, he watched her with an amused smile.

“Can you lock up behind you when you leave, Adrien?”

“I’m heading out at the same time you are. I’ve got a shift at the bakery today. I might be a little late today with all this excitement but…” he winked theatrically. “I’m in good with the bosses, so I think they’ll let it slide.”

She snorted. “You and your nepotism.”

“Aw, come on. I got in on talent alone! Who else would smile and bat their eyes at the customers like I do? And get them to buy a lot more pastries than they might have otherwise?”

“You’re a dork,” she said with a smile as he walked around to stand behind her.

“Your dork, maybe.” He kissed her cheek and kept walking to the refrigerator and pulled out a little lunch box like she might have had in lycee. “Anyway, I know you’re busy so I packed a lunch for you while I was at it.”

She blinked at the box. “...How long have you been awake?”

“You know I wake up early,” he said nonchalantly. “I like to see the sun rise.”

“Well… anyway, thank you. This is super helpful.”

He bowed. “I’m glad to be of service, m’lady. Are you ready to start the day?”

To her surprise, she was. It was the first time in weeks that she hadn’t felt desperate or like she was running out of time. They walked out of the apartment, hand in hand, sharing a kiss after they had to part ways outside the building. Marinette went to class with a spring in her step, excited to face the challenges that the day would bring.

-------------

“Tikki!” Marinette whined as she failed to get the stitching right again. “I hate design!”

From her vantage on the couch behind her, Tikki giggled. “No you don’t, you’re just tired and frustrated.” She floated forward and landed on Marinette’s shoulder. “I know you want to get this done, but I’m sure the person who commissioned this won’t mind if it isn’t finished by tonight. That deadline you gave was soft for a reason.”

“I know, but I can finish this tonight. If I just try a little harder...”

“It’s alright to take a break, Marinette. Maybe grab something to eat…?”

Marinette threw her hands up in frustration. “Now you’re starting to sound like Alya and Adrien!” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Tikki and pointed a ruler her. “You aren’t in league with them, are you?”

Tikki watched her and raised an eyebrow. “Well, if being on their side means talking sense…”

“Hey, I’m not a child! I’ve been taking care of myself!”

“You forgot to eat that nice lunch Adrien made you and then accidentally threw it in the garbage.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Marinette buried her face in the dress in progress. “It smelled so good… so briefly…” She sniffled and her stomach growled at the memory of the destroyed pasta.

“See? Your stomach agrees with me. Go get something to eat, Marinette.”

Irritation flared up. She was doing just fine on her own, not matter the hints they were giving her. Stupid overbearing boyfriend. Stupid overbearing best friend. Stupid overbearing kwami.

Grumbling all the while, Marinette dragged herself away from where she was working and opened her refrigerator. She was nearly brought to tears when she saw that there was an even bigger container of Arrabbiata pasta, her favorite, in the front. On it was a handwritten note by Adrien, which she read through grateful tears.

‘Missing you lots, wish I could be there to make this for you in person! I hope this is good enough! [badly drawn heart]’

She giggled at the poor sketch of a heart while hers was warmed by the gesture. While she heated up her pasta, she silently forgave Adrien. His heart was in the right place, at least. And if that meant she got more of his constantly-improving cooking… then so be it.

--------------------

A few days later, it was time for patrol.

At this point in their superhero careers, it probably wasn’t necessary. There weren’t any miraculous unaccounted for anymore and they hadn’t fought an akuma in over two years now. But somehow, it felt right. If they could keep the streets a little safer at night for the average citizen, then so be it. Even if most nights all they did was run across the rooftops, wind in their hair, the city open beneath them, and their worries left far behind them.

...Okay, so maybe the patrols were helpful, if only for their mental health. Marinette had tried to get out of a few of them to get extra sleep, but Adrien quickly realized she was just going home to work more.

Maybe it was because her thoughts were already being pulled in a dozen different directions at once. Or maybe it was because it had never gotten this bad before. But it didn’t occur to her that maybe such physical activity wasn’t best performed on an empty stomach.

Either way, she suddenly felt faint and would have collapsed to the street below if Chat Noir didn’t catch her just in time. The panicked worry in his emerald eyes was enough to pull her back fully into consciousness.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back.” He took an extra moment to set her down somewhere relatively comfortable and out of sight. After a few minutes, he returned with a bag full of croissants.

“How’d pay for this?” She asked groggily.

He shrugged. “I threw a fistful of euros at them and hoped it was enough.” He shook his head and put a croissant into her hand. He patiently waited while she worked her way through a couple pastries. “When did you last have a proper meal?”

She was feeling better now that she had food in her, which meant that she was fully aware of the vaguely disappointed tone that had slipped into his voice.

Bashedly, she replied, “...When did you leave that pasta for me?”

He took a deep breath and sighed. “We’ll call patrol off for tonight.” He got to his feet and helped her up. “Looks like I should make you dinner more often,” he said dryly.

“...Fine, fine.” Not that she wasn’t looking forward to more of his cooking, but she didn’t like to admit she needed the help. Especially over something like feeding herself. There was no way she’d be able to talk him down after tonight.

“And remember our date for next week.”

“I know,” she sighed. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He kissed her forehead. “I’m glad to hear it. Goodnight, lovebug. I love you.”

“I love you too, kitty.”

[sardonic-but-not-unkind]

The Guest (2014) David headcannons

so originally in the movie he did have a backstory, but it was cut in favor of making him more mysterious. this is partly based on info about the deleted footage i could find online and partly from my imagination.

naturally highly empathetic

parents died in a car crash when he was 14

David bounced around in the foster system in the midwest until he graduated high school

didn’t know what to do after high school and joined the military

trained with Caleb and they were deployed together

just the best of buds; like brothers

the shrapnel in David’s back that landed him in the hospital is from the same attack that also injured Caleb

due to the differing nature of their injuries, they were treated in different hospitals and had no idea if the other was still alive

David’s injury fucked up his spine and severely paralyzed him

was told he would never fully recover

was then approached by KPG (military contractor organization who branched out from weapons manufacturing and training into genetic research) 

basically told that he could submit himself to their scientific study into regenerative medicine for free and that it is his only chance at healing even a little bit

with nothing left to lose, he agrees

has no idea what KPG was intending to do and was made to sign a lot of documents while high on hospital drugs

Caleb is drafted into this program using similar shady methods

as soon as they agree, they are declared dead by the US gov and Caleb’s family is notified (David doesn’t have anyone to notify)

they are transferred to the KPG labs were they are rehabilitated, then realize something isn’t right

their bodies are healed, but they arent being given full range of mobility: locked in their hospital rooms and (depending on how much they disrespect authority) are restrained to their beds

for easy access to test subjects, they are moved into a large room with cells lining the walls with an operating table and other lab equipment in the center

David and Caleb don’t see the outside of that room for months

at first they shared a cell, but as the other test subjects started dying off, more cells became available and they were separated

think Maximum Ride or The Bourne Identity

the first phase was pumping them full of drugs that are meant to change them physically, make them stronger, more tolerant to pain, remove their ability to feel panic, heighten their focus  etc

but it only works about halfway.

David’s memory of this time (and pretty much every moment since his injury) is foggy because of the drugs so everything he remembers is fragmented 

one round of tests was particularly harmful, causing the deaths of several subjects, including Caleb

David watches Caleb dies on an operating table as scientist observe how the drugs are affecting him

the last thing Caleb says to David is to “find my family---the petersons... and tell them I love each of them. Be there for them. Protect them now that I can’t”

having grown up feeling like his only opportunity at a family was gone, those words impact David so greatly that they are the only thing he can clearly remember

to be tasked with being the guardian of his solitary friend’s family imbued him purpose

the scientists begin to realize that about 3/4 of the test group is dying as a result of the drugs, while the rest are actually surviving with the intended results

these surviving few move on to the next stage of testing, psychological reprogramming

all kinds of scary military torture tactics and mindfuck drugs are used to completely break them and slowly mold them into perfect drones who execute orders without question or hesitation

real Bourne Identity shit

David encounters Major Carver during this time and comes to associate him with the conditioning

David remembers even less from this time, but he remembers the Navy Seal-esque training he was put through

test subjects who are noncompliant are killed immediately

So, miraculously, he lives his life like this for a month; being drugged, tortured, and undergoing an intensive workout regimen 

eventually, all the other test subjects die (either by disobedience or incompatibility with the medication or physical exhaustion) and David is the only one left standing

the goal of the experiment was to create human drones that execute can execute a wide array of orders while using critical thinking and problem solving and still maintaining respect for civilians/hostages. half drone half person

unfortunately, David’s programming was so complete that although he showed in verbal and written tests that he valued human life, in practice he could not complete a mission without harming “non-combatants” and showed a tendency to revert to violence over diplomacy.

thus the project was deemed a failure and the testing site was closed.

David, the sole survivor, was moved to a smaller facility where KPG intended to harvest the last bit of data for future trials and then euthanize him

this is when he makes his escape by setting a fire and faking his death.

after that he can only do one thing: obey orders

and whats the one order that his fragmented mind has placed the most importance on?

protecting the petersons

so he uses emotional manipulation to get the mother to let her guard down, then when she offers him Caleb’s room, he realizes that a part of her wants her son back and is willing to let David in as a surrogate, so he backs off

he isolates what specific thing is bothering every family member, and destroys it in the only way he knows how

he stages the dad’s boss’s suicide so he can be promoted

is constantly helping in the kitchen and with various household chores (chopping vegetables, picking up the brother from school, etc) to fill the void left by Caleb

frames the sister’s drug dealer boyfriend for murder to get her away from his bad influence and their lackluster relationship

defends the brother against his bullies and advocates for him when he is about to be suspended

David also actively tries to befriend the brother and sister, seeing how lonely and emotionally isolated they are in the wake of their brother’s death

 but of course when he is compromised, he has to destroy all loose ends

its honestly chilling in the movie how he hunts down the family members with a mix of determination and utter emotional detatchment

even though he can’t show it, he genuinely was sorry when he killed the mother and father

underneath the programming, he’s still an empathetic person who loves this family for giving him the only kind of normalcy he’s had in years

when the brother stabs him and he says “you did the right thing. I don’t blame you” he means it, even if he can’t express it with any emotion in his voice

he was aware of the drone he had become but had no way to stop his actions - however his final act was to protect the brother from the guilt of killing him by assuring him that stabbing him was the right thing

I really like how the ending is ambiguous too, so I won’t write all of it, but I like to believe that experience had shaken loose some of the conditioning David was slave to, and now David watches the brother and sister from a distance, making sure they’re okay and jumping out to protect them when they need it terminator-style

[hazzasgayvodka]

mister long term booty call

In which harry has been your best friend for six years and after learning you haven’t had sex in six months, he’s willing to give you a hand, or rather a finger ;)

You hear the front door open and lean over the back of the couch to see Harry strolling in, not paying attention to your staring eyes as he leans his skateboard against the wall and drops his backpack right next to it.

“You’re late sir.” You quip, and he finally snaps his head up to meet your eyes under his unruly mess of hair tucked into his beanie.

“I know, sorry, I was uh-“

“Fucking Tiffany in the back of your car?” You smirk knowingly, getting up off the couch to meet him in the kitchen.

“Jenna,” He corrects, and you quirk your eyebrow up in further questioning, urging him to explain, “Tiffany’s sister.”

“God Harry, you’ve got to be kidding.” You groan, shoving him over as he opens the pantry to raid it for snacks most likely.

“Gotta do what you gotta do, Y/N,” He shrugs, grabbing the bag of salt and vinegar chips, “Not all of us have mister perfect just waiting for us to call him over.”

“Can you please not call him that?” You sigh, rolling your eyes, “And you could have a miss perfect if you wanted to, you just don’t want to pay for the poor girls’ popcorn when you take them to the movies.”

He shrugs with that regular shit eating grin on his face that you know all too well. You put a bag of popcorn in the microwave as he shrugs off his denim jacket and tosses it on the hook in the hallway before kicking his vans off and throwing them underneath.

“I mean you answered the question yourself,” He says through a mouthful of chips, “I could have that if I wanted it, but I don’t, especially not with fucking Tiffany, more like miss blowjob behind the Dennys.”

You swat him in the arm as he walks behind you to get to the fridge and grab a can of Fanta. He’s laughing as he cracks it open and chugs some of it down, plucking the bag of popcorn out of your hand and pouring some into his mouth.

“Harry! That was mine!” You huff, rolling your eyes as you grab a soda for yourself.

“It’s still yours!” He chuckles, collapsing on the couch with his backpack, “I’m just bringing it to the living room for you because I’m just that thoughtful.”

You walk around the corner to see him sat comfortably in the middle of the couch with all of the snacks piled up on the coffee table in front of him. He dumps out his backpack, adding two more bags of chips and six boxes of candy to the pile.

“Someone had a field day at the dollar store.” You joke, reaching around him to grab a box of Mike and Ike.

“Spent all ten bucks on you,” He nods, shoving a Twizzler in his mouth, “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You sigh, tucking your feet up under your legs as you get comfy.

He grabs the joint from behind his ear and takes the lighter out of his pocket, igniting the end. He sucks in a drag as he slumps further against the couch, running a hand through his overgrown mess of hair.

“So how is mister perfect?” He muses, turning over to meet your eyes as he grabs the TV remote, “Still perfect?”

“He’s not perfect Harry, he’s just-“

“A student professor at your college with medical insurance and the keys to a Tesla?” He mocks, eyeing you over his shoulder as he starts flipping through the channels.

“Would you shut up?” You huff, grabbing the pillow from behind you and smacking him over the head.

“What?” He scoffs, “Am I wrong? He’s fucking boring, Y/N.”

You roll your eyes as he pulls off his Higgs hoodie, revealing his Astroworld t-shirt. He slumps back against the couch and you grab his hoodie yourself, pulling it over your head.

“So what is it?” He asks, breathing out another cloud of smoke, “Why isn’t he perfect? Other than the fact that he’s an absolute snore fest of course.”

You shove him over with your shoulder and steal the joint out of his hand, placing it between your lips instead, “He’s not boring Harry, he’s…safe.” You sigh, taking another drag.

“Safe?” He taunts, snatching the Mike and Ike out of your hand, “That is exactly what you call someone that’s drop-dead boring.”

“He’s not-“

“What’s his favorite ice cream flavor?” He asks instead, cutting you off.

“Um,” You think aloud, wishing you didn’t have to say it, “Vanilla?”

“God, Y/N! Are you kidding me?�� He groans, throwing his head back against the couch, “What does he teach?”

“Biomedical engineering-“

“Fucking hell!” He shouts, cutting you off once again, “He’s literally a piece of white bread, Y/N,” He says, turning to face you on the couch, “God, you know Wonderbread? That’s him, he’s a fucking piece of Wonderbread.”

“He is not a piece of Wonderbread, Harry,” You defend, rolling your eyes, “He’s a stable guy, with a stable job, and-“

“At least tell me the sex is good.” He cuts in once again, shoveling popcorn into his mouth.

“It’s uh, the sex is um, it’s fine-“

“Oh my god, Y/N!” He shouts, his voice nearly startling you, “Even the sex is boring?”

“I did not say that-“

“You didn’t have to!” He laughs, “I’ve known you for six years, I can tell when you’re lying,” He smirks obnoxiously, “God I can’t believe even the sex is bad, what is it? You suck him off and then it’s like five minutes of missionary or-“

“Harry!” You squeal, grabbing the pillow you flung at him earlier and covering your blushing face with it instead.

“Oh, come on, you’re acting like we don’t talk about this shit.” He huffs, grabbing the pillow from over your face and tossing it over his shoulder.

“You talk about this shit, Harry,” You laugh lightheartedly, “Without me asking you to, might I add.”

“Well maybe if you were having better sex, you’d want to talk about it.” He shrugs, sticking his tongue out at you as he turns back to the TV.

“Maybe if you were less promiscuous, you’d talk about it less.” You counter, leaning back against the couch and shoving your feet in his lap.

“Maybe if you actually got some good sex, you’d be less annoying.” He teases, leaning back against the couch and folding his arms on top of your legs.

 You wake up to the light coming in through the living room window and peel your eyes open to see Harry underneath you. He’s passed out cold, his head in your lap and his feet hanging off the edge of the couch. He must’ve curled up on your lap after you fell asleep during your American Horror Story binge.  You suddenly hear a knock at the door and realize that must have been what woke you up, but who the hell is here this early in the morning?

You shove him off your lap and he grunts in protest, curling back up with one of the astray pillows as you stumble to your feet. You pass the kitchen on the way to the door and you catch the time lit up on the stove out of the corner of your eye.

One thirty? No way, it’s not one thirty in the afternoon. Sure, you two didn’t go to bed till four but it couldn’t possibly be-

“Y/N? Hello?” You hear your boyfriend’s voice ask from behind the door as he continues knocking.

“Shit, shit, shit!” You whisper to yourself, looking down to see yourself still dressed in the same sweatpants from yesterday and Harry’s Higgs sweatshirt.

“What’s happening?” Harry groans from the couch, standing up and running a hand through his messy bedhead.

“Mister perfect is outside because I was supposed to go out to lunch with him today!” You whisper harshly, trying to figure out how to get ready and air out the very present smell of weed in your apartment in the next three seconds.

“Lunch? Who the fuck makes plans to go to lunch-“

“Harry! Not right now!”

“Well fine, why don’t you go get dressed and I’ll entertain the snooze fest for ten minutes.” He suggests, walking past you to grab the door.

You cringe outwardly, your face screwing up into the worst expression as he pulls the door open and suddenly your two very separate worlds are colliding. Your boyfriend doesn’t know you as some girl who smokes weed and inhales potato chips while bingeing TV shows with your best friend who’s a self-proclaimed lady killer and proud retail associate at Zumiez. He knows you as Y/N, a girl he met studying at the library who enjoys critically acclaimed movies and going to brunch on Sunday.

“Hey there mate,” Harry grins, gesturing inside, “Why don’t you just come in and chill, she’ll be ready to go in like ten, maybe fifteen minutes, I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of getting to know each other.”

“And you are?” Your boyfriend asks, raising his eyebrows as he passes Harry in the hallway.

“Her best friend,” Harry grins proudly, “Harry.”

Your boyfriend reaches out his hand to shake Harry’s, but Harry grabs his hand and pulls him into a bro hug, clapping his back. You meet your boyfriend’s eyes over Harry’s shoulder, and he looks anything but pleased.

“I’ll just be right out, I swear.” You say quickly, darting to your room to get changed.

You slip on a pair of jeans and huff in annoyance as you strip out of Harry’s stupid weed hoodie and put on a nice blouse instead. You spray yourself head to toe with perfume and brush your teeth twice to cover the smell of smoke sticking to you before shoving your feet into a pair of flats and rejoining the boys in the living room.

“You ready to go?” Your boyfriend asks hurriedly, standing from the couch and effectively cutting Harry off in the middle of whatever they were talking about.

“Um, yeah,” You stutter, grabbing your purse and turning to Harry, “You can lock up when you leave, yeah?”

“Yup, don’t even worry about it,” He nods, “You two have fun, but not too much fun.” He jokes, making your boyfriend grimace.

You fake smile, waving goodbye and nearly dragging your boyfriend out of your apartment and to his car parked outside. He’s still looking at you incredulously as you collapse into the car beside him and he starts it up, driving to the entrance of your complex.

He finally breaks the silence when you hit the first red light, “You never mentioned your uh-“

“I know, he’s um, he’s a lot,” You explain, trying to carefully word your next thought, “We’ve been friends for a long time.”

“He seems like a nice enough guy,” He shrugs, “Didn’t really strike me as someone you’d be best friends with however.”

“Yeah, it’s just um, you know we’ve been hanging out for so long he just kind of-“

“Sticks around and hotboxes your apartment?” He remarks, the judgement dripping from his voice.

Your stomach twists in the worst way when the words come out of his mouth. There it is, the sentence you were waiting for. The one that confirms he thinks of Harry exactly the way you thought he would. Harry is loud, and obnoxious, and stoned ninety percent of the time but he’s your best friend in the whole world. He’s held your hair over the toilet while you puked up vodka soda more times than you’d like to count, and you don’t even want to try and think of how many movie marathons you’ve had at each other’s houses till ungodly hours of the night. You love that son of a bitch, no matter how many girls he fucks in the backseat of his old ass Mustang or how many times he bums five bucks off you for a Whopper when he’s got the munchies, he’s your best friend, and maybe he’s right about mister perfect.

 You walk back in your apartment expecting to see Harry still sprawled on the couch with the remote in his hand but he’s nowhere to be found. You trudge your feet back to your bedroom and grab his Higgs hoodie off the ground, stripping out of your blouse and pulling the hoodie back over your head. You dial his number as you collapse on your bed, laying upside down with your feet pressed to the wall.

“What’s up?” He asks right away, not even bothering to say hello, “How was your lunch date?”

“Definitely could’ve gone better.” You sigh, sitting back up when you feel the blood rushing to your head.

“What happened? Did he order unseasoned chicken and steamed cauliflower?” He teases.

“No,” You laugh, rolling your eyes, “I uh, I broke up with him.”

You can hear the shuffle of movement on the other side of the phone and you can picture him sitting up quickly from laying down on his back just like you are, “No the fuck you didn’t.”

“Yes the fuck I did.” You chuckle, rolling over onto your stomach.

“Wow,” He sighs, “What finally made you put the last nail in the coffin?”

“Remember when you asked how the sex was?” You grimace, covering your blushing face with your hand even though he can’t see you.

“Yeah.” He says uneasily, and you can almost hear the smirk in his voice.

“Well there wasn’t any,” You gulp, awaiting his reaction, “We didn’t-“

“You guys never fucked?” He asks suddenly, cutting you off, “Y/N, you dated that guy for six months.”

“Believe me, I know.” You laugh, trying to break through the awkward air.

“You haven’t had sex in six months?” He asks again, clearly not able to wrap his head around the thought.

“Yes Harry, say it a little louder for your neighbors, would you?” You joke, tying your hair up in a bun on top of your head.

“God, what a piece of fucking Wonderbread,” He chuckles, cracking himself up with his own joke from earlier, “Six months Y/N, that’s like, that should be illegal.”

“Probably going to be a lot longer now.” You mumble, walking to the kitchen to grab a tub of ice cream out of the freezer.

“Longer? No way, I’m not letting you do that to yourself,” He laughs, “We’re going out tonight and I’m gonna wingman you so hard you’ll definitely-“

“No, no, no,” You sigh, cutting him off, “You know I don’t do that shit Harry, I’m not going to have sex with a total stranger.” You say through a mouthful of ice cream.

“Well, I mean, we could,” He says, “I’m not a stranger.”

You nearly choke on the huge bite of ice cream in your mouth when the words come out of his mouth. You almost drop the giant spoon in your hand as you set the ice cream down and press your phone to your ear to make sure you hear him properly.

“I’m sorry, did you just fucking say-“

“Y/N, it makes perfect sense,” He reasons, “We know each other, too well probably, and I’ve heard you complain after mediocre sex enough to know what you want.”

“No way! No you’re not-“

“And you’ve seen me naked plenty of times and I was there when you got that ass tattoo so I’ve basically seen you in the nude-“

“That is not the same thing.” You cut in.

“It’s close enough!” He laughs, “All I’m saying is I fucking know what I’m doing, and I could make you feel good Y/N, something you apparently haven’t experienced in six. Fucking. Months.”

You close your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose and trying to make your mind think straight. You can’t do this, this is fucking insane right? Fucking your best friend? Fucking Harry? You can’t have sex with Harry, he’s fucking Harry!

“Okay,” You say uneasily and fucking dammit if your subconscious didn’t just slam her face into the wall, “Just this once?”

“Just this once,” He confirms, “Unless of course you want to go for round two-“

“Don’t get your hopes up, Styles,” You warn, wanting to knock yourself out before you actually agree to something this insane, “Can you be at my place in twenty minutes?”

“Twenty minutes?” He scoffs, “Y/N, there is an art to this, you think I just wake up and look this good? For the full experience I’ve got to shower and shave and-“

“You’ve got half an hour until there is a strong possibility that I will change my mind.”

“Ugh, fine,” He sighs, and you swear you can hear him rolling his eyes, “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

 As soon as you hang up the phone, your mind is whirling. Fifteen minutes. You’ve got fifteen minutes until your best friend of six years is going to show up on your doorstep with every intention of seeing you naked. God. What have you done?

You hurry to your bathroom and brush your teeth first, gargling with mouth wash twice and checking your breath afterwards. Your hands are nearly shaking as you take your hair down from the bun on your head and you run your fingers through it, trying to sort out the tangles. Does it look better up? Will that make the act easier if your hair isn’t like all over the place? Does leaving it down look too nice?

You shake your head in frustration and decide to leave it down as you walk back to your room and start shuffling through your dresser. What do you wear to have sex with your friend for the first time? Do you put on nice underwear or does that look like you’re trying too hard? You definitely don’t wear tan, seamless boyshorts, that’s for sure. You wriggle out of your underwear and slide into a plain black thong instead. Not lace, not too fancy, and definitely not matching your bra but at least it’s not spanx.

Do you put your jeans back on? Or just stay in his hoodie and some underwear? That’s hot right? Are you supposed to be hot? Harry’s not going to think you’re hot whether you’re dressed in nothing but a thong anyways.

There’s a knock on the front door and you nearly jump out of your skin. God, he’s here. You try to make a split-second decision to throw on a pair of shorts until the knocking sounds again and you realize he’s locked out. You decide against the stupid shorts and walk back out to the living room, bracing yourself for what’s about to happen. You could just not answer the door, tell him you fell asleep. It’s happened before, he’d believe you, wouldn’t he?

“Y/N! It’s fucking cold out here!” He calls, banging his fist against the door.

You sigh, taking in a deep breath as you walk down the hallway to the front door and slide open the lock, pulling it open. The cold air hits you like a brick wall and Harry’s face lights up upon seeing you before he shuffles past you into the warmth of your apartment.

He’s still rubbing his hands together as he drops his skateboard inside and slides his backpack off one shoulder when your eyes rake over him, trying to compare his appearance to yours. He’s in a plain pair of grey basketball shorts and his favorite Thrasher hoodie with a red hat pulled backwards over his unruly hair. He’s anything but dressed up for the occasion and that’s perfectly fine by you, you didn’t sign up for the full Harry Styles experience.

“God it’s warm in here,” He groans, reaching for the thermostat to bump it down a few degrees, “You know, if you wore pants around the house you could probably save loads on your electric bill.”

You can’t find it in yourself to come up with something equally witty to throw back at him like you usually do. He’s still cracking up at his own joke as he strips out of his hoodie and you’re surprised to see his torso bare underneath. That’s fine, you’ve seen Harry shirtless before, many times actually, but this isn’t like those times, is it?

He turns to look at you over his shoulder as he bends down to his backpack, grabbing his pack of pre-rolled joints and lighting one between his teeth. He stands back up with the joint between his teeth and puffs a cloud of smoke in your direction to which you roll your eyes and shove him.

“So, are we doing this?” He asks, quirking his eyebrow up at you as he leads you the rest of the way into your apartment.

“I um, I don’t know, I think this was a bad idea we should just-“

“Oh, no you don’t.” He laughs, cutting you off.

You’re caught off guard as he takes the joint out of his mouth, balancing it between his two fingers and leans into you, pressing you into the wall and smashing his lips onto yours. He shotguns a puff of smoke into your mouth and you only cough a little bit, making him laugh as you swallow roughly. Suddenly his lips are moving against yours and holy fuck you’re making out with your best friend, you’re making out with Harry.

His free hand reaches to grip your waist, holding you in place against the wall as his other hand rests beside your head against the drywall, still gripping the smoking joint between his fingers. His hand hikes up the side of his hoodie, grabbing your naked hip and dragging his dull fingernails over your skin while his mouth continues moving with yours. You’ve definitely never been kissed like this before, with this much skill and rhythm and the perfect amount of tongue but of course he’s a good kisser Y/N, he’s had more than enough practice you remind yourself.

It’s not until his lips move away from yours and instead start to trail down your neck that you’re suddenly painfully aware that this is Harry. Your best friend, Harry Styles, is kissing down your neck and fuck is he biting your throat and making your fucking knees buckle.

“Harry?” You gasp, wishing your voice wasn’t so strained.

“Yeah?” He says, stopping his assault and looking up to meet your eyes, “What? Too much teeth? I’ll dial it back-“

“No, no,” You sigh, trying to clear your head, “Just enough teeth, I just um-“

“Want me to take off the hat?” He suggests, grabbing it by the bill and tossing it behind him, “The hair is part of the experience, baby.” He grins cheekily.

“No, Harry, god,” You huff, rolling your eyes, “I just um, I don’t know if I can do this, what if this ruins our friendship? Like what if I give you a bad blowjob and you just-“

“Woah, woah, woah,” He says, taking a drag, “For one, I wouldn’t friend dump you over a shitty blowjob and two, you’re not going to be giving any blowies you dolt, tonight is about you and making sure you get a hefty dose of orgasm to last you through the next six months.”

“Who’s saying it’s going to have to last me another six months?” You scoff, hitting him in the arm.

“I’m just helping you prepare for the worst,” He laughs, blowing another cloud of smoke into your face, “Now will you please relax and let me finish my artistic masterpiece on your neck?”

You roll your eyes as you lean back against the wall behind you and tilt your head back, allowing him further access to the skin of your throat. He grins, those stupid dimples indenting his cheeks as he leans back down and surprises you by grabbing the back of your neck and capturing your lips with his once again. His hands reach for the hem of his hoodie on your body, dragging it up and over your head, leaving you in nothing but your bright blue bra and black thong.

“Really pulled out all the stops, huh?” He teases, snaking his finger under your bra strap and snapping it against your skin.

“Says the guy in the basketball shorts.” You smirk, reaching forward to snap the band of his shorts against his hip.

The grin on his face is every bit devious as he grabs your hips, pulling you to him and ducking his head down to press his lips to yours once again. Suddenly the friction between the two of you is undeniable and you nearly hit the ground when Harry takes your bottom lip between his teeth.

“Bedroom?” He pants, hardly pulling away from your lips long enough to get the single word out.

“Mhm.” You hum, reverberating the word right back into his mouth as your lips move together.

He walks the both of you towards your bedroom door, still swung open from your hurried dash to get the door when he arrived. He nearly trips on two pairs of your shoes, swearing under his breath as he kicks them out of the way and leads you to the bed until the backs of your calves hit the mattress.

He pushes you down against the bed and your heart is nearly hammering out of your chest for the few seconds that you’re laying there, staring up at him and his swollen lips and blown out irises. Who is this man in front of you? This isn’t your high school best friend that used to put carrots up his nose at lunch and help you onto the roof of his house so you guys could smoke without his parents knowing. But it is.

“You good?” He asks sincerely, kneeling in between your legs at the foot of the bed.

“Yup, just fine.” You quip, trying to steady your breathing before he’s close enough to hear your heart beating out of your chest.

“God Y/N, you have got to relax.” He sighs, his hands running over your legs from your ankles to your thighs.

“Sorry if this is just,” You pant, closing your eyes briefly, “Just a lot to wrap my head around, okay?”

He laughs and you know he’s making a that’s what he said joke in his head as he leans back over you, pressing his lips to your collar bone and then traveling further down your chest.

“Would it be better if you weren’t looking at me?” He asks, looking up to meet your eyes as he drags your underwear off you, “Think you could relax if you couldn’t see me?”

“I mean, maybe, but how-“

“Here, get up.” He says simply, cutting you off and throwing your underwear over his shoulder.

You’re caught off guard as he instructs you to stand back up and he resumes your spot on the bed, his feet hanging off the edge quite a bit more than yours were.

“Come over here.” He says, reaching for your hand and you nearly feel like passing out as you kneel on the edge of the bed and crawl over to him, your naked ass in the air.

“What are you-“

“Put this one here,” He instructs, grabbing your right knee and placing it right beside his head, “And put this one right here.” He continues, grabbing your left knee and trying to drag it over his face to rest on the other side of his head.

“What? No! Harry!” You stutter, swatting his hand away but he grabs your leg tighter, meeting your eyes.

“Come on Y/N, just ride my face, then you won’t be looking at me while I-“

“Do not finish that sentence.” You warn, your chest heaving as you wrap your arms around yourself to try to cover up at least a little.

“Y/N,” He says softly, his hand reaching out to grab your hip, “Do you trust me?”

You look up from the comforter beneath your knees to meet his stern eyes. There’s not an ounce of teasing in his voice, no digs or cracking jokes, he’s sincere and you’re not sure you’ve ever seen him look this serious.

“If at any point you want me to stop, you just say the word and we’ll be done, we can put on a movie and act like this never happened, I swear,” He says, squeezing your hip for emphasis, “But for now, can you just give me a chance?”

You sigh, sitting back on your heels and staring at the ceiling fan whirring above you. This is insane. Sit on his face? Ride his face? He wants you to put that on his mouth, what if you fucking suffocate him?

“How do I do this again?” You sigh, looking back down to meet his eyes.

He grins, grabbing your left knee once again and passing it over his face, placing it on the other side of his head. You cringe, preparing yourself to look down and see none other than fucking Harry’s face between your thighs.

“You good?” He asks again and the warmth of his breath directly on your core makes your thighs clench.

“Just great,” You grimace, “Are you going to uh, get started down there, or?”

“You’ve got to sit down first love,” He laughs, his hands reaching around to grab your hips, “Can’t really reach you from way up there.”

Love. That’s new. Harry has definitely never called you love. You can’t tell if he’s saying it to comfort you because at this point, he can probably feel your heartbeat thumping in every cell of your body, many of which happen to be sitting on him at the current moment. You let out yet another sigh, bracing yourself as you lean off your knees, and onto the backs of your feet instead.

“Like this?” You ask cautiously, trying to keep yourself balanced on your heels so you don’t crush him.

“Just like that,” He says, nodding his head and his nose brushes your clit, making you jump, “Shit, sorry.”

“Careful, Styles.” You breathe, your legs already shaking.

You look down and meet his eyes, your cheeks instantly going aflame as he smirks at you with that stupid dimpled smile. His hair is splayed out beneath him, his eyes hooded as his hands move from your hips to your thighs, holding you in place as he licks one bold stripe up the center of your heat.

“Christ.” You sigh, your eyes falling closed as you suck in a sharp breath.

You hear him chuckle beneath you as he continues his assault, his hands locked around your jittering thighs as he licks up and down you, swirling his tongue in all the right ways. He sucks your bud into his mouth, pressing sloppy kisses to your core as he catches his breath before delving back into your heat.

“H-Higher.” You pant, leaning back on your hands that are firmly pressed to his chest behind you.

“Here?” He asks, licking a few stripes at just the perfect spot.

“Fuck, yes, right there,” You breathe heavily, moving one of your hands from his chest to thread through his hair, “Back and forth, horizontal.” You pant, hoping he understands what you mean.

His tongue starts flicking back and forth across the perfect spot and you nearly lose your balance and fall forward at the surge of pleasure in the pit of your stomach. His arms reach up and grab your hips, holding you upright as you shudder, your eyes screwed shut. He continues the movement, darting back and forth between it and the sloppy kisses he resorts to in order to catch his breath as he reaches up your back to the clasp of your bra. He snaps it open with a quick flick of his skilled fingers and tosses it to the side, your full chest finally on display.

“Did you just manage to get my bra off in the middle of all this?” You gasp, your eyes fluttering open to meet his, still trained on you.

“It’s all in the wrist.” He teases, purposefully nudging you with his nose this time.

You roll your eyes, reaching down to cover his face, wishing he would stop staring at you with that dimpled smirk on his face while his fucking mouth does ungodly things to your clit.

“That’s the spirit,” He smirks, “This is much hotter.”

“God, would you please shut up and put your mouth to better use?” You groan, uncovering his eyes once again.

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” He jokes, returning his tongue to where you need him most, your knees buckling almost instantly.

It’s only a couple seconds of that flicking movement that has you shuddering above him. He reaches up to tease your nipples, making you gasp and have to lean back on his chest once again. He’s smirking proudly as you come undone above him, your thighs threatening to clench together and absolutely squish his head, but he couldn’t care less. Your lip is nearly purple you’re biting down on it so hard and Harry notices. You’re keeping your moans contained but he won’t be having any of that, you better tell him how good he’s making you feel.

He leans you back to sit on his chest rather than kneeling over his face as you ride out your orgasm and you’re just about to ask him what the hell he’s doing when he pushes a finger into you. You nearly jump out of your skin at the overstimulation and your hands plant themselves firmly on the mattress on either side of his hips.

“Feel good?” He asks, trying to drag it out of you as he adds another finger, pumping into you relentlessly, and you involuntarily whimper.

“Mhm.” You nod, biting your lip once again as his fingers curl inside you and your back arches, nearly tipping you over the edge for a second time already.

“For fuck’s sake, let me hear you, Y/N.” He grunts, adding his thumb to rub against your clit as his two fingers continue curling inside of you.

“God, Harry, fuck,” You sputter, trying to get the words out, “Fuck me.”

“You want me to stop?” He asks, clearly not following, “Want me to fuck you instead?”

“No, asshat,” You pant, “Fingers, fuck me, don’t just curl them, in and out, you follow?”

He’s laughing as he nods, flipping his hair out of his face as he starts to pump his fingers in and out of you once again. You throw your head back in ecstasy, still balancing on your hands and gripping the duvet in your fists.

“Better?” He asks.

“Much.” You breathe.

You move one hand from the mattress to grab him over his basketball shorts and he hisses through his teeth, his head suddenly falling back against the mattress.

“No,” He grunts, pulling himself back up to meet your eyes, “This is about you-“

“I know.” You nod, cutting him off.

He’s staring at you wide eyed as you palm him through his shorts, not that he needs any help, he’s already standing at stark attention against the waistband of his shorts.

“Doesn’t mean you can stop though, Styles.” You smirk and he lets out a chuckle as he resumes.

“Yes ma’am.” He teases, rubbing his thumb back and forth against your clit perfectly.

The repeated movement is just enough to push you over the edge with the added stimulation of his fingers pumping in and out of you. You nearly collapse backwards but his arms reach out and wrap around your waist, holding you to his chest.

“I got you.” He laughs, and you fall forward instead, collapsing against his chest as he falls back against the bed.

You feel numb all over in the best way. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, your entire head, your chest, your arms, your entire body is beating in time with the incessant thumping. You can’t remember the last time you felt this light, you’re floating, or maybe you’re lightheaded. Suddenly the room is a thousand degrees and you feel steaming hot to the touch.

“You okay?” He asks, brushing your hair behind your ear, “I can hear your heart beating.”

“Just got to,” You pant, swallowing hard, “Gotta catch my breath.”

“Makes sense,” He smirks, his arms snaking around your waist, “I have been told my services are rather breathtaking.”

You sit up, grabbing the closest pillow and stuff it over his face to which he flails beneath you, reaching around you to smack your bare ass. You nearly jump out of your skin, ripping the pillow from over his face to see him laughing hysterically, his hair an absolutely fucked out mess.

“Did you just-“

“You are not about to get offended that I smacked your ass,” He scoffs, grabbing your face and pulling your mouth to his with those stupid dimples popping from his cheeks, “That ass was smothering my face not even twenty minutes ago, love.”

 ***

You’re spinning in your desk chair, quite obviously avoiding the Economics homework pulled up on your computer when your phone buzzes on your desk beside you. You pick it up expectantly, but the name Noah flashes across the screen rather than the name you’ve been waiting for all day.

You lean back in your chair, staring up at the ceiling and sighing before muttering a quick, “Fuck it,” and picking up your phone once again.

You dial the number easily, it’s number one on your favorites list after all and he picks up by the second ring, “This another booty call?” He teases and you hope to god that he’s alone if he’s talking like that.

“I told you you’re not allowed to answer the phone like that.” You huff, getting up from your desk and wandering out to the kitchen to grab a snack.

“You also said I was absolutely never allowed to fuck your face but what did we do the other-“

“Harry shut the fuck up!” You squeak, your cheeks suddenly flaming.

“I’m just proving my point, love.” He laughs, sniffling slightly and you can tell he’s outside.

“What are you doing right now?” You ask uneasily, biting your lip.

“Skateboarding.”

“To where?” You question further, hoping he doesn’t call you on the carpet for asking so many.

“Wait for it,” He chuckles, his breath puffing out quicker as he picks up speed.

“Wait for wha-“

Suddenly you’re cut off as there’s a knock on the door and then he’s walking through it, his cheeks rosy and his hair a wind-whipped mess.

“You rang?” He laughs, dropping his skateboard.

“Oh, thank god, the friend with benefits I ordered.” You fawn dramatically, batting your eyelashes as you cross the space between the two of you.

“Hey,” He snaps, grabbing you by the backs of your thighs and hoisting you into his arms, “I am a self-proclaimed long-term booty call and I will stand for nothing less.”

“You wouldn’t be standing for a whole lot of anything if you would hurry up and get us into my room already,” You smirk, throwing your arms over his shoulders, “Mister long term booty call.”

“Now you’re getting it, sweetheart.” He mocks, finally leaning forward and capturing your lips with his, walking the two of you back to your room and kicking the door closed with his foot. 

***

so like this obviously has a lot of potential for a part two and was HEAVILY requested so if you’d like that send me some ideas to include in a part two what do you guys want to see and also maybe get this to 1000 notes?? That’d be sick

love u guys

pls appreciate my sacrifice I was supposed to go to bed ages ago I work in 4 hours 

[antiquecompass]

So, yeah, again, this was supposed to be for the Untamed Fest, Day Fourteen: Elements, but once again, the pitfalls of a non-powered modern!au rears its head.

Wherein Lans are like ice, but Jingyi is like fire, and someone’s getting a well-deserved asswhooping.

When outsiders described the Lans, the same adjectives were always used. Cold. Distant. Like ice. Statues. 

The Lans did have an anger that burnt cold and vicious. They didn't raise their voices, just kept a frozen monotone. They did distance themselves from people or situations of which they disapproved. Proper posture was taught and enforced from youth so yes, standing or sitting ramrod straight without fidgeting with a mask of indifference was common.

In truth, the Lans were passionate people. They loved deeply and hard. They devoted themselves to their hobbies and their studies. They found joy in finishing accomplishments well and on time. And they were all, in their own little ways, extremely stubborn. 

The more passionate, some would argue more human, side of the Lans was rarely seen by outsiders. It did the reputation of the Academy and the Cloud Recesses well for the renowned bearing of the Lans to stand, so it was considered part of the family duty to maintain the mask of polite indifference in public, and keep their more passionate sides for their private lives.

And then there was Lan Jingyi.

Jingyi burned bright and hot, a fiery core surrounded by walls of ice. He was loud, opinionated, and extremely overprotective of his friends and family. He cared deeply, perhaps too deeply, and too much to maintain that mask of polite indifference. And so he didn’t. Lan Jingyi was a Lan in excess: of pride, of passion, of noise and the simple joy of making it. 

Most of the family indulged Jingyi for being himself, a very unique definition of the famous Lan Character, but still a prime example of their values. If a little extreme.

Though sometimes that fire that so defined their Lan Jingyi burned a bit too hot.

***********

“What the fuck did you say to him?”

“Jingyi, no,” Sizhui said, desperately trying to push his boyfriend off school grounds. It was one thing to get into a fight. It was a completely different thing to get into a fight on school grounds. They just had ten more feet to go.

“Sizhui, let go,” Jingyi said, pulling hard.

“Not here.”

“See, that little bitch has you on a leash.”

“Sizhui, let me the fuck go,” Jingyi said, pushing hard enough to bruise.

“Not yet,” Sizhui said through gritted teeth. It took all of his strength to drag Jingyi past the school boundary point, across the road, and onto the town’s forest path.

Jacob Keller, the absolute fucking idiot, had of course followed them as he hurled every possible insult he could think of at Sizhui. Jacob had just received word that he would not be attending Lan Academy for his senior year. Jacob had finally found some deductive reasoning skills and figured out why.

Sizhui waited until Jacob had also crossed the boundary line between school and town property and then he stripped off Jingyi’s school jacket and tie and let him go.

Sizhui, very possibly, finally had enough.

He could also very well fight his own battles, but Jingyi had been dying to beat the absolute shit out of Jacob Keller since eighth grade and Sizhui had finally tired of holding him back. One too many insults about his sexuality, his heritage, his family, his fathers, his uncles, and his boyfriend, along with the general vulgar and typical insults of a homophobic, transphobic asshat, had finally broken even Sizhui’s lauded patience.

Besides, Jingyi had finally aced a Calc test and he deserved a reward for his weeks of intense studying.

“Holy shit,” Jin Ling said as he rounded the corner with Zizhen and Song Yating. “Should’ve brought some snacks.”

“I can’t believe you finally let him do this,” Zizhen said. 

Sizhui shrugged. “I was fine until he called my father a common whore and a piece of trash that should’ve been left on the streets back in Shanghai.”

“He’s not even from Shanghai,” Jin Ling said.

“I’m surprised he even knew that Shanghai was a city in China,” Song Yating said. “Are you sure he didn’t say Shangri-Li?”

“Apparently the one class he paid attention in was Geography,” Sizhui said as his eyes drifted back to the fight.

Jingyi could’ve fought Jacob vicious, with closed-first blows and the Lan arm strength. He could’ve fought him gracefully, dancing around him like he did his opponents in the boxing ring. Right now Jingyi was fighting him like a pissed of seventeen-year-old who has tired of having his family, his boyfriend, his school, and himself insulted.

It was never going to be a fair fight. Jacob might’ve had height on Jingyi, but Jingyi had far more bulk and nearly a decade of repressed anger. The fight was already over, had been over since Jingyi threw the first punch to Jacob’s gut, dropping him low, and only kept on now to prove a point. Jingyi hovered over Jacob, his knee wedged in his back, and his hand pushing his face into the grass.

“Now, say you’re sorry.”

“Fuck you.”

Jingyi pushed down harder. “Keller, I promise you I could do this all day.” He laughed, sharp and evil. “And you’re all alone out here. All those kids that followed you around just because of your daddy’s money are gone because they know better than to associate themselves with pieces of shit like you.” He patted Jacob’s shoulder and stood. “You had every chance and second chance to make something of yourself here, and you fucked every last one up. So you’re on your own now.”

A wave of Jingyi’s hand brought two scared looking boys over, two of Jacbo’s former friends. Jingyi pulled out his wallet and handed them some cash. 

“Get him cleaned up and home.”

The boys nodded, not saying a word, as they pulled a cursing Jacob up.

“What will your precious Headmaster say about this?”

“The Headmaster’s not here,” Jingyi said, looking around. “And we’re not on school property. You want to call the cops, call ‘em. I’ll wait.”

Jacob didn’t say a single word.

“That’s what I thought,” Jingyi said. He waved the boys off. “Get him out of my sight.”

Sizhui shook his head as Jingyi swaggered over to him, the happy sparkle back in his eyes and a cocky smile on his lips.

“The King is dead,” Jingyi said as he pulled Sizhui’s into his arms. He took his mouth in a harsh kiss, dipping him low before pulling him back up again. “Long live the King.”

[suzie-guru]

Strange Magic FanFic - “Girls And Goblins Just Wanna Have Fun...”

Happy Valentine’s Day, @magic-and-moonlit-wings! I sincerely hope you had a lofely Valentine’s Day and that you will enjoy this wee little fanfic I wrote in your honor! 

Since we both share a love of Fairy Fashion and carry a deep affection for Bog and Dawn’s relationship, I thought you would enjoy a fanfic exploring a different kind of Love - in this case, the love of hobbies and the love between a Fairy Princess and her Big Brother Bog King ❤️

(Title is OBVIOUSLY inspired by Cyndi Lauper’s masterpiece - not only can I easily see Dawn having a ball and a half singing it, it’s one of those songs you just associate with a makeover sequence). 

I hope you enjoy, dear! 

Dawn dabbed the delicate point of the slender brush along the fine arch of her brows, arcing it just so with the deftest of touches. Finally finished, she sighed with no small amount of happy satisfaction at the shimmering line of iridescent, glimmering dewdrops that delicately studded her skin, the bedazzlement making her bright eyes all the more brilliant. “Perfection. And the dewdrops won’t budge a bit because I mixed them with the diamond dust we crushed earlier, so this will last all night.” 

Bog raised a scaly brow as he appraised the magnificent makeup she had wrought. “Are you sure it would work for me?” 

Dawn scrunched her nose at him. “We have almost the same eye color, Boggy, and you can’t deny it brings out mine.” 

“Your eyes are larger than mine, lass,” Bog countered, looking away from her to glance at one of the multiple mirrors Dawn’s boudoir held. He spared a short scowl at his reflection then rubbed a hand over his face, those long fingers tensing then flexing. “And my complexion is darker than yours, especially around the eyes. I doubt that even with your talent those drops won’t give near the gleam they have on your face.” 

“Bog Kings of little faith,” Dawn tutted, but she cocked her eyed and eyed the Goblin shrewdly, mulling his words over.  

His cape was absolutely magnificent, the vast spread of interwoven vines of differing dark hues that flared from beneath his wings a monument to both Dawn and Griselda’s patience and skill, the flared collar of thorns and raven’s feathers framing his face so well. Add a clasp made of a few gleaming fangs to hold it in place, and the bird skull mask engraved and etched with the Old Tongue of the Dark Forest and the pair of horns hooked to it that tapered into such elegant arcing points behind him...

She never forgot he was the King of the Dark Forest, the almighty Bog King, dark and dire in name and deed, but now he really looked the part. 

And it’s due to me! 

Dawn sighed at the sight he made, even as she bit back a smile what with how Bog couldn’t stop fiddling with the mask. “What would you suggest instead of the dewdrops?” 

Bog frowned again at the mirror, though this time in consideration. His leafy brow lowered, and yes, he did have such a shadowed visage, the drops would definitely lose their impact against such a backdrop––

A hefty claw dragged across the line of his cheek conspiringly. “Perhaps... markings to accentuate the angular lines of the cheekbones?” 

Dawn nodded slowly, imagining it, seeing the slashes and scrawls of dark, bloody red - no no no, not red, blue, an inky midnight blue to go his eyes - across that craggy face. “That would work. But what about the eyes? Yours are so striking Boggy, and you know how much Marianne loves them. We have to bring them out.” 

Bog leaned on the tabletop of her vanity and studied himself with renewed intensity, meeting the bright blue of his mirrored gaze before nodding decisively. “Amber.” 

Dawn blinked at him. “Amber?” 

“Amber and gold,” Bog replied, straightening back to his full height. “To go with Marianne.” 

Dawn looked at his eyes, so clear and confident in this decision, and studied them, imagined their bright blue against glittering gold and the dusky glow of amber, the contrast so––

Her jaw fell open in her gasp. “That’s gonna be so stunning.” 

Bog nodded, already looking through the various jars and vials on the vanity, his claws scratching over the marble. “Coordinating my colors to match Marianne’s eyes, having everyone see that, understand the implication––” 

“––not only would they see you taking part in our tradition of the Masquerade, but they would understand you’re doing it because of your devotion to her!” Dawn couldn’t contain herself and leapt up, seizing the looming Goblin in a fierce hug. “Oh, Boggy!”  

There was a crackle and crunch of scales, and Bog let out that little huff of laughter only she and Marianne got to hear. “Dawn, if I’m to attend the ball, breathing might be of help.” 

Dawn let him go, still beaming up at him. “You are such a good boyfriend, you know that? Being so supportive of Marianne, willing to go through all of this, all on your own––” 

“I’m not going through it alone,” Bog interjected, taping at her nose with a talon, keeping care of his claws, and Dawn knew his gratitude must truly be great if he was willing to not wince at the term boyfriend. He continued on, his voice gaining a wry edge. “Rock and root help me if I had to brave this without your aid...” 

“Pffft, as if you aren’t a natural when it comes to presenting yourself with suitable flair.” Dawn had already checked with Stuff and Thang that no matter what commands were given, no smoke was to employed tonight. At least, not an obscene amount of smoke. 

Bog harrumphed, the sound not at all grumpy, and Dawn grinned as she grabbed her pallets of petal-paint and started mixing, her movements smooth and sure. Bog settled himself on her settee, flaring his wings and swishing his cape aside so that it draped over the pink petal pillows, setting his mask on his lap. 

Dawn compared it to her own dainty mask of silvermist thread and gossamer gauze that would barely hide her face and wondered at how each item suited its wearer so. One bright and sparkling and with nothing to hide, the other ancient and obviously an object of power, bone and blood coming together to mask the ruler of shadows so majestically...

A shimmering gold-bronze soon glowed up at her, and Dawn quickly went to work, dabbing the creamy-cool mixture around Bog’s eyes, knowing the scrollwork of the vines had to be beyond impeccable in order to bear the scrutiny of the court. They would be so impressed, so undeniably beguiled...

“How did the Masquerade begin?” 

Dawn smiled, setting aside the gold and dipping her brush in midnight blue, dragging it under the sharp curve of his cheek as she answered. “Way back, fairies used to go hunting dressed in costumes, hoping to intimidate the prey. Marianne has a point when she says fairies have always been focused on looks. Anyways, after the hunt, they would all get together and celebrate, and they would keep the costumes on.” 

Bog nodded, his eyes closed as she continued her work. “But the hunts had to have ended, what with fairies distaste for meat...”

Dawn nodded, feeling the familiar thankfulness that their dietary habits had developed so, though she took care not to express such a sentiment to Bog. As a Goblin, the consumption of dead flesh held no disgust to him, and Dawn had always tried to respect that. “Well, the hunts ended, but the celebrations didn’t. Besides, it’s not like we’re gonna fight any excuse to hold a party where we can dress up even more extravagantly. Plus, we can go wild with makeup. Marianne always loved the Masquerade for that reason.” 

Bog’s lips slanted into a smile. “And the makeup is important because even if one wears a mask...” 

“...there’s the Reveal.” Dawn fussed a tiny bit more, making the touch of her fingers fine as possible. “Where everyone takes off their mask and shows their face. It’s the neatest part, people get so creative with their petal-paint.”

“I bet your skills set a singular standard,” Bog observed, and Dawn went pink with pleasure. He continued on thoughtfully. “Do you think Marianne might have been inspired by the Masquerade to wear her eyes like that day to day?” 

“It’s possible,” Dawn conceded, setting her brush down and clapping her hands. “Right. Reveal thyself to thine eyes, Boggy Woggy!” 

Bog sat up with a sigh, turning to the mirror. “Bog King, you daft wee thi––”

His voice stopped as he beheld the sight of himself, eyes widening as Dawn waited with bated breath. Oh please oh please oh please like it, oh please please please––

“I am,” Bog said, his voice low and empathetic as he looked at him, "damn tempted to start wearing this day to day as long as you do it. Dawn, you’re a bloody miracle.” 

Dawn squealed as she jumped in her joy, the silvery-blue petals of her dress flouncing with the movement. “Oooooh, I KNEW you would like it!” 

“That’s selling yourself short, love,” Bog replied, giving her ear an affectionate tweak even as he continued to stare into the glass. “Gods, I’ve never seen the like.” 

Dawn hummed playfully, a smile on her rosebud mouth. “Just wait till you see Marianne...” 

Bog’s brows shot up, and another shivery shot of satisfied joy went through Dawn as the gold gilding his eyes gleamed with the motion. “Doesn’t Marianne do her own makeup?” 

“For day to day, sure, but for the Masquerade...” Dawn gave a smile that was both sweet and sly. “Well, let’s just say, we collaborate.” 

She grabbed her powder puff and dipped it in what remained of her diamond dust, patting it along her cheeks and the lines of her clavicles as Bog watched her, wide eyed and wondering and more than a bit of curiosity in his gaze. “Can you give me a hint?” 

“So impatient,” Dawn tutted, even as her mind went back to a singularly slinky number of darkly pink lisanthius petals stitched with strategically set swirls of jet beads she was sure would send the Goblin King spinning and the dark shimmering train of gauze that would trail after her sister like enchanted smoke, the mask of ravens feathers and her own pair of obsidian horns hiding the petal-painted vines and violet blooms of the dark forest that graced her sister’s skin...

Dawn smiled at Bog, and gave one spiky shoulder a squeeze. “Don’t worry, Boggy Woggy. I promise, all will be...revealed.” 

Bog rolled his eyes, whether at the nickname or her amazing play on words, and Dawn found she simply didn’t care as she seized him in yet another hug, her words a sing-song squeal. “Now let’s go have fun!” 

[renegadewangs]

Ace Mindhunter - 3rd Interview

Characters: Simon Blackquill, Athena Cykes, Shi-Long Lang, and a rogues gallery of AA villains. Fandom: Ace Attorney. Pairings: N/A. Warnings/rating: 16+, I would say. Talk of heavy themes such as death and abuse, plus cursing. Spoilers for every AA game up to Spirit of Justice, AAI2 included. Gratuitous amounts of headcanon for antagonists. Summary: Simon Blackquill is roped into a Behavioral Analysis project along with Athena Cykes. They must sit down with convicted murderers for interviews, in hopes of finding out just what drove them to their convoluted crimes.

3rd Interview Furio

Date: June 11th 2028 Time: 4:34 PM Location: Interpol H.Q. - B.A.U. Office. “Frank Sahwit. A burglar who was caught in the act by the owner of the apartment he'd broken into. He killed her in a blind panic, then shifted the blame onto her ex-boyfriend. He gave testimony about it in court and everything.” “No.” “Hmm... Cammy Meele. She was a flight attendant, but also a member of an international smuggling ring. She helped move things across the border. When an Interpol agent showed up to check the cargo hold of a plane, she panicked and shoved him so hard that he fell off the side of a flight of stairs. She tried to hide his body and when it was uncovered by accident, she scrambled to pin the blame onto a colleague. Looks like her cover-up was blown before the police could indict the wrong person.” “... That is even worse.” “Lucky number seven, then! Richard Wellington. A small-time con artist who mistakenly thought a police officer was on to his scams. He killed the cop, framed the cop's girlfriend, then hit the girlfriend's attorney over the head with a fire extinguisher just before the trial. … There's Mr. Wright's name again. I'll have to ask him about this one.” “The subject meddled with the court process, hm? We're getting warmer. The scammer has earned himself a spot on the consideration pile.” “We don't have a consideration pile yet. Only rejections.” “Then, by all means, start one.” Athena cleared some space on the desk they were meant to share, then placed Wellington's folder in the center. The rejection pile was a substantial one, the pile of profiles yet to be assessed had dwindled so badly that they had very few options left to them. Was this the best Lang could provide? “Next we have...” Athena reached for the assessment pile and opened the top folder. “Florent L'Belle. Eww...” “Pass,” Simon said and for once, he had Athena's full agreement on the matter. One more for the rejection pile. Athena ruffled her hair in a frustrated manner and Simon leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. There were a few water stains there, perhaps even mould. Interpol would spare no expense when it came to their investigations, but they must not have thought very highly of their Behavioral Analysis Unit if it were condemned to a shoddy basement office. Athena reached for the next folder and flipped it open. “Looks like we're moving on from petty criminals to the big leagues, now. Paul Atishon. I remember that guy... He was a corrupt politician who made a deal for a national treasure with Khura'in's Minister of Justice, then panicked when an archaeologist with an actual moral compass impeded that deal. He killed the archaeologist and at first made the death look accidental, then attempted to shift the blame onto a revolutionist when he got into hot water about it.” “Was that murder premeditated?” “Sure, but there was a lot of clumsy improvisation involved. I don't think there was a single strong thought going through his head beyond wanting to win some dumb election he was in. He was trying to live up to his grandfather's name, though, so that may be... something.” “... Consideration pile.” “Then, how about Redd White? Former CEO of Bluecorp, but also a blackmailer on the side. He killed a defense attorney who had the evidence necessary to expose him and shifted the blame onto her little sister. Looks like this one was definitely premeditated. He roped his secretary into his lies, even though she knew he was the real killer.” “Hnnn...” “Simon! You have to stop being so picky! If you keep shooting every possible interview down, we might as well give up!” If he was being truly honest with himself, Simon was torn on that concept. He'd been selected for this project without his knowledge and his cooperation had, to some degree, been coerced. Spitballing with criminals who'd already been judged felt out of place for a prosecutor. A more productive way to spend his time would've been to return to his usual cases. That way, he could put more of these killers behind bars. Still, there was always that possibility that their research could bear fruit in the long run. That he could apply the insights he gleaned from it in the courtroom. Perhaps the profiles they compiled would serve to sharpen his sword, allowing him to prevent wrongful convictions, or even the crimes themselves. Aside from that, there was a very tempting reward at the end of this road. He would have to trek his way through the mud to reach the Phantom. “The next one, perhaps,” he said, tearing his gaze away from the ceiling and back to Athena. “D'accord! You'll love this one, I'm sure of it! Dahlia Hawthorne, convicted for the murder of her ex-boyfriend! There's two murders that everyone suspected she was involved in, but they couldn't prove it in court. Then a few more counts of confirmed attempted murder and-” Athena broke off quite suddenly, then groaned and tossed the papers aside. “Says there that she's already been executed. They must've given us her file by mistake.” Simon could almost feel his will to keep breathing leave his body. Almost. Distraction came in the form of Lang, who had entered the room so quietly that Simon hadn't even noticed him until he was standing right next to them. Though not exactly giving off a warm glow, he wasn't in a sour mood either. He was, if anything, pleasantly courteous. “Well well, if it isn't our part-time shrinks.” “Please refrain from using that word,” Simon said to him. “What, part-time?” “Hmph.” “Good to see you, Shifu,” Athena called cheerfully. Simon bit down on his feather, the muscles in his jaw straining. “Shifu?” “That's what everyone around here calls him! Didn't you know?” Athena chuckled, then pressed a fist against Simon's arm. “Don't worry, just because he's my shifu doesn't mean you can't be my sensei.” Simon opened his mouth, then closed it again. “How goes the hunt?” Lang asked, perhaps changing the subject on purpose. Athena propped her elbows up on the desk, one hand playing with her earring. “We're having some trouble selecting our next target. Most of the profiles we were given don't meet our criteria.” “Or they're outright deceased,” Simon snapped, waving a hand at the profile in question, which had been scattered across the floor by Athena's fling. “Let's see... Dahlia Hawthorne, huh? Sorry about that. Some people say her vengeful ghost still roams the courthouse. Maybe that's how her name got in there.” Lang gathered up the papers as he spoke, then clutched the folder under his arm and stood upright again. “What have you got from your first two subjects? Anything useful?” “Dee Vasquez and Roger Retinz are difficult to compare,” Athena mused. “Mr. Retinz's murder was carefully planned out, Ms. Vasquez's was a spur of the moment thing.” Lang shook his head. “We already knew that. I'm asking what you found out.” “The Diva Producer's murder has some stains of sexism on it, but they are just that. Irrelevant stains. She took a life because she was threatened, then covered it up because she believed she had done nothing to deserve the punishment in her future. Her remarks suggest that the target of her frame job was chosen out of convenience, not out of spite.” “Hmm.” “As for the Greasy Producer, he suffers from a very typical form of narcissism coupled with internalized insecurities and self-loathing born from childhood abuse. The most-” “Not so fast!” Lang stood up a bit straighter and for the first time since Simon had met him, he looked confused. “Don't narcissists think they're God's gift to the world? How can a guy be a narcissist and still have self-loathing?” Simon sighed and raised a hand to the bridge of his nose, pinching it. “You are not familiar with the concepts of implicit and explicit cognition?” “Uh.” “Explicit cognition,” Athena began, using a slow pace as she sorted out her words, “is something that a person does consciously. Like, say... Explicit memory is when you study for a test and try to memorize all the important things. You remember things because you make an effort to remember. Implicit cognition is a subconscious thing, like associating a certain smell or taste with a past event. Basically, implicit cognition influences a person's behavior, even when they themselves have no conscious awareness of it.” “To summarize, the Greasy Producer's explicit self-esteem is high in order to compensate for the implicit self-esteem, or lack thereof,” Simon concluded. “Though, he confessed to us as Mr. Reus that he is aware of the implicit issue. He did refer to himself as a 'fuck-up', in the end. He's simply unable to remedy the internal disorder and that leads to further chaos.” Lang leaned himself against the side of the desk and as he attempted to move his hands into his pockets, the Hawthorne folder almost slid out from under his arm. “Right. Okay, I get it. That's great stuff.” “While different in most aspects, Retinz and Vasquez did share one important similarity,” Athena pointed out. “They both believed that their victim deserved to die.” “And was that belief misguided?” Lang asked. “In Mr. Retinz's case? Definitely. But I'm not so sure when it comes to Ms. Vasquez. Did the police ever find out whether that Manuel guy was murdered or not?” “Dunno. I could ask around, but since the supposed killer is dead, opening an investigation now would be a waste of law-enforcement's time. Lang Zi says: There's no use crying over spilled milk.” Simon frowned and Athena clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. That was as far as either of them was willing to go when it came to ancient plagiarism. Spilled milk, indeed. Lang paused and glanced down at the pile of folders left on the desk. “So what's these criteria you have for interviews?” “We certainly cannot use too many of these blind panic murders,” Simon said. “If you wish to diagnose the illness which is plaguing this city, we ought to be focusing on the composed planners. The grand names who stood tall even within the prison walls. Gavin, Gant or Alba, perhaps.” “I'll let you talk to someone like Gant when I'm sure you can walk away from that with your heads held high. This unit hasn't exactly got much of a reputation for itself and the last thing we need is for the inmates to think we're weak little pups.” “Can you at least think of some inmates who went out of their way for the frame job? Like Mr. Retinz did?” Athena asked, once again playing with her earring. “... Yeah. Yeah, I got one. He should be in the archives somewhere. Poisoned a guy's coffee, then hid the body and acted out the murder all over again in disguise to fool witnesses. As soon as the blame was shifted onto some innocent waitress, he disguised himself as a defense attorney and botched up her trial on purpose.” “Warte ein moment... I think I heard about this.” “I'll bet you did.” “Mr. Wright's name sure keeps popping up in a lot of these cases...” Athena drummed her fingers along the desk, narrowed eyes directed towards the far wall. “What was that guy's name again? Umm... Cheeto...” “Furio Tigre,” said Lang. ------- Date: June 12th 2028 Time: 2:00 PM Location: Interview Room. Simon still remembered their next subject quite well. Tigre had been one of the loudest inmates in death row and that reputation was sure to continue until his execution. Any attempt at anger management had failed and so, the guards had instead allowed collateral damage. The amount of times they'd had to carry a broken desk or splintered fragments of a cot out of Tigre's cell, Simon couldn't count. It'd been once a week, perhaps. With that in mind, Simon steeled himself to protect Athena from physical harm. He also knew that he might have to lower himself down to Tigre's level in order to be heard. The door from the prison side opened and Tigre was led inside by two guards, each holding onto one enormous arm. Almost ten years in the clink and a ripe age of 51 had done nothing to break down the tough guy demeanor. He was tall and broad in every sense of the word, but not exactly untainted. His spiky black hair held streaks of white and a scar ran across his left eye. Worst of all, his skin was tinged with a spray tan so unconvincing that it would make Klavier Gavin look as if he’d genuinely spent due time in the sun. When it came to the presence of artificial tan within prison walls, Simon had stopped asking such questions long ago. That this man had ever attempted to pass for Phoenix Wright was laughable, but not as laughable as the knowledge that the entire courtroom had been fooled. “I AIN'T TALKIN' TO NO FEDS, YOUSE HEAR?!” he was shouting with such ferocity, Simon could feel the ground shudder. “GWOOOOAAAARRR! GET YOUSE HANDS OFFA ME, OR ELSE!” The therapy animal which entered behind them was so small and quiet, Simon wouldn't have seen it if he hadn't known to search for it. Once Tigre had been settled down in his chair, the two guards backed away with such apprehension, it was evident they expected he might require more restraining. Perhaps he would've, were it not for the immediate change in his attitude when his eyes landed on Simon. He smirked, fingers curling around the edge of the table and nails digging into the wood. “Well well weeell... If it ain't our old jailbird. How's life on the outside been treatin' youse?” “It has been treating me quite well. Certainly, I can get a night's sleep without being disturbed by raving fruitcakes such as yourself,” Simon responded, which was both a truthful statement and an attempt to put his foot down. “Watch yourself, Tweetie! Just 'cause youse got outta here don't mean I can't still break youse kneecaps! Where do youse get off, actin' all high and mighty?! You think youse better than us, huh?!” “As I did not truly stain my hands with blood of any kind... Yes, I believe I am.” “Feh! Youse stained your hands plenty! Just look at how many of us youse had tossed in here! We shoulda strung youse up so high not even your little bird could reach your carcass!” Simon had no immediate comeback to that. Believing he was on the same level as every single killer in the clink was the sort of weight he'd carried around plenty over the past seven years. Now that he was recovering, he couldn't very well allow Tigre to push him right back into that mindset. Even so, it was true that some of residents in death row had been moved there by his hand. “You need to stop your bellyaching!” Athena snapped at Tigre. “Who do you think you're kidding? You've got nothing else to do with your day, right? Then you might as well answer some questions for us!” Not at all fazed by her words, Tigre squinted his eyes at Athena. Then he glanced towards Simon. “What's dis, then? Youse need your girlfriend to hold your hand? I was expectin' a loser like youse to die a lonely virgin.” Simon was no stranger to the sharper sort of prison tongue. Even so, he felt an overwhelming sense of humiliation and raised a hand to his face. The last thing he needed or wanted was for anyone to believe Metis Cykes's daughter was his girlfriend. He wouldn't want the inmates to think that his partner for this project was his girlfriend, either. Such a thing could be very damaging towards the interview process. As for Athena herself, she kicked at Tigre from under the table, causing the man to yelp and jump up from his chair. The two guards were by his sides immediately. “I said cut the crap!” she yelled at him. “We're here for a serious project and if you won't participate, we'll walk right out of here! You can spend what's left of your miserable life all by yourself and nobody will be around to hear you scream!” A dreadful silence fell. Just as everyone else in the room, Simon found himself staring at Athena and never before had he seen a more formidable foe. The last thing he'd expected was for his investigative partner to lower herself to Tigre's level, certainly not in order to defend him. It hurt his pride more than the notion of 'dying a lonely virgin' ever could. Tigre seemed unnerved, this time. A single drop of sweat ran down his temple. He wrung his hands together and sat back down. “All right, all riiight... Women, right? So what's dis project?” Athena set the recorder down on the table and began the usual speech of the Behavioral Analysis Unit and their intended questions. As she did so, Simon watched Tigre go from tense to bored, then finally to lost. Perhaps the words had been too formal for his mind to comprehend. “Uhhh. So you're gonna do a pop quiz?” he ultimately asked. “Something like that. And we'll be recording it, if that's all right.” “I dunno about dis... Dat sounds like an invasion of... y'know, privacy.” “You don't need to do this if you don't want to,” Athena assured him. “Well, all right. I'll do it as long as I knows I don't gotta.” Athena frowned and sat back in her chair. If her impression of Tigre was already odd, it was nothing compared to what happened next. The man leaned down to pick something up from the ground and set it down in his lap. It was a hairless chihuahua, dressed in a pink jacket so bright that it could veer straight off the known color spectrum and phase itself out of reality. Simon knew better than to stare. Athena did not. “W-What...?” she asked. “GRAAAGH! What're'youse lookin' at?! Youse never seen a dog before?!” Tigre roared at her. The chihuahua in his lap trembled, but not because of the volume. It was simply a standard setting for the animal. “Of course I have! I just wasn't expecting...” “Youse take your eyes offa Mitzy right now, or youse can kiss your interview sayonara!” “Jeez, sorry!” Athena hastily began shuffling through her papers. “Let's just get started with some standard questions.” “And you will answer the lady with due respect, lest I slice your tongue from your filthy mouth,” Simon said, now that he'd finally found his voice again. “Yeah yeah...” Athena cleared her throat. “You're originally from New York, but you moved to Los Angeles when you were 28, is that right?” “Uhhh. I dunno. 28 sounds about right.” “You don't remember how old you were?” “Who cares how old I was?! What's dat change, huh?! If I moved, I moved!” Simon wondered whether the defensive attitude was hiding a far grander secret. If it were, they wouldn't get it out of Tigre too easily. They would need to manipulate him into it, just as they'd manipulated Retinz. Athena must've realized the same thing, for she proceeded towards a different angle. “So what made you decide to move in the first place?” “Damn, talk about nosy questions...” Tigre huffed loudly, then raised a hand to the chihuahua's head to pet it. He must've been quite gentle, as the tiny and fragile creature didn't so much as flinch at being stroked by enormous fingers. “I moved to L.A. because the people here are chumps.” “Chumps?” “Sure. Couldn't start a good loan company in a place like New York. Everyone's all wisened up to it. But here in L.A.? Hah! People are desperate to live dat big Hollywood dream!” Athena stopped to take a few notes. As she did, Simon decided to try and take some lead in the conversation, or else be completely emasculated. No other inmate would take him seriously if that were to happen. “What of the family you left behind?” he asked. Tigre frowned. “What about 'em?” “Were you still in touch with them? Would you return to New York for the holidays, perhaps? I would assume the Tigre family gathers 'round a nice, dead antelope for Thanksgiving.” “Grrrrr... I told youse to watch yourself, Tweetie,” Tigre growled at him. “What do I care about family when I've got a business to run? Holidays were a huge cash-in moment. Lotsa new loans goin' out, too. Everybody wanted to buy their missus a new sports car, see, and then another one for de mistress.” “Not even a season's greetings was sent to New York, then?” Simon asked, only to receive a deadpan in response. “You did have family, did you not? Or were you perhaps raised by a pack of tigers in some Brooklyn back alley?” “ARE YOUSE MOCKIN' ME?! WHY, I ATTA SMACK YOU SO HARD-” “Hold it, hold it!” Athena called, raising both hands to try and put a stop to further argument. “We're getting off track, here. Let's talk about something else instead, all right?” Tigre seemed content to do just that and Simon made sure to shoot a grin his way. “This whole story about how you murdered Mr. Elg and why you did it is really complicated. Do you think you could explain what happened in your own words?” Athena asked. Somehow, the question seemed to irritate Tigre. He tisked loudly and glared towards the wall. Following that, he ran his fingers along Mitzy's head, then under her chin as he spoke. “I needed money, see. On account a' Viola's operation. And it was damned idiotic. I had people all over town owin' me money, but none a' those losers could pay up. Not a dime! So I met with Elg, see. He was gonna gimme some fancy schmancy virus I coulda sold on the black market for millions. It woulda paid off my debt to Viola's family just like dat. Then as we're sittin' there, havin' our coffee, dat wise guy goes and wins the damned lottery! 500,000 big ones! He woulda paid off his measly 100,000 debt and left me in the lurch, see. It was the millions I needed. Way I figured, that was what he owed me for keepin' me waitin', too. Interest, y'know. So I killed 'im and took the virus.” Simon felt that there was quite a bit to unpack, there. Far more than they currently had time for. They'd have to pick this apart piece by piece, just as an attorney would cross-examine in court. “You killed a man because you believed he owed you more money than he truly did?” he heard himself ask, despite knowing deep down that was hardly the best approach. “What about it, huh?! You wanna go?!” Tigre grabbed at his prison uniform with both hands, looking just about ready to rip the fabric. What that would accomplish, Simon had no idea. “Stai calmo,” Athena said. “Let's take it from the beginning. You mentioned something about an operation for someone named Viola?” “Y-Yeah...” Tigre was back to absentmindedly fiddling with Mitzy now, his fingers adjusting her jacket. “Was she your girlfriend?” “No- Well- See... Viola's from a real influential family...” “The Cadaverinis, I believe,” Simon supplied, once again throwing a smirk Tigre's way. “They are the biggest mob family here in this 'chump-filled' city. Should one disrespect a Cadaverini, one will find themselves wearing concrete shoes at the bottom of Los Angeles River. If I recall correctly, this tiger sitting before us crossed Viola Cadaverini's car in the most unfortunate way possible and she did not walk away unscathed.” Tigre's eyes narrowed into a ferocious glare. “So... Wait, Mr. Tigre wanted to pay for Viola's operation because he was the one who caused the accident that hurt her in the first place?” Athena rubbed at her own chin, looking doubtful of the story. “Listen! I had to pay!” Tigre shouted at them. “Ol' man Bruto woulda had my head if I didn't! Those damned Cadaverinis! They think they can just make a guy do anythin'!” Athena raised a hand to her chest and closed her eyes. Widget was glowing a bright yellow through her fingers. “... You didn't feel bad that someone ended up in the hospital because of you?” “I had the right a' way! She was the one who didn't look before zooming into the street! And I was the one drivin' a scooter! If anyone shoulda been hospitalized, it woulda been me! But nooo, I got lucky on account a' my helmet and she has to go crack her skull on the steerin' wheel! How's that my fault, huh?!” For a split second, Simon thought that Furio made a good point. If indeed he'd had the right of way and Cadaverini hadn't been paying attention, it would've been hard to fault him for the accident. Then Simon remembered just who they were sitting across and came to the conclusion that the only victim of this story was Viola Cadaverini, who would be fooled by such a despicable man. "She wouldn't just let it go, either!" Tigre was still raving on and on. "Me bein' sentenced to death still wasn't good enough! Dat fuckin' BITCH tried to poison me while I was in here! What, just 'cause I tried to take care a' her?! Who cares if I loved her or if I didn't?! I was doin' right by her by tryin' to pay off dat hospital bill and givin' her a job and shit! Now she's snatched my damn business! Tender Lender was MINE, you hear?!" Athena drew a deep breath, Widget still emanating a yellow glow. Knowing what that color meant, Simon placed his arm on the table and leaned in towards Tigre. "If you don't cease your caterwauling this instant, I will have you muzzled!" "Up yours!" was Tigre's response, though he simmered down all the same. A nimble shake of the head, then Athena continued. “So you took Mr. Elg's virus by force, as it was the only way for you to pay off the Cadaverinis. Could you not simply have stolen it without killing him?” “What, and have him come for me with a buncha coppers? I woulda been the prime suspect once he'd figured out the virus was missin'!” Athena squinted, then turned her gaze towards Simon. He couldn't quite fight off the smile that was dawning on his face, so he allowed it to flourish there. When at last it became clear that Tigre wasn't seeing the problem with his logic, Simon took delight in sharing just that. “Forgive me, Tony Tiger, I must ask,” he prompted with mock delicacy, acting as if he were speaking to a toddler. “What sort of fool would report to the police to inform them that a powerful computer virus, crafted by his own hand, has been stolen? I would daresay that producing malware is an even worse crime than lifting the CD it is on. Had you taken it from him by force or through an underhanded ploy, such a weak man would not have been able to do a thing to prevent it.” Tigre looked dumbstruck, another pearl of sweat rolling down his face. Simon could swear that the spray tan was mingling into it. Three seconds of silence, then Tigre was roaring yet again. “GRRROOOAARRR, YOUSE MOCKIN' ME! I KNEW IT! DAT'S IT, I'M OUTTA HERE!” Sure enough, Tigre made to stand up, cradling Mitzy firmly with both hands. The two guards looked quite uncertain. Athena rose to her feet as well, darting forward to block Tigre's path. Simon was by her side immediately, ready to shield her, should there be a need. Fortunately, Tigre's hands were so full of chihuahua that he couldn't land a punch even if he wanted to. “Wait, wait, just one more question!” she insisted, spreading out her arms. “... What?” “I can understand why you might re-enact the murder to establish an alibi and shift the blame for the murder onto someone else. But why did you...” she trailed off for a second and Simon could swear she was fighting off amusement. “Why did you impersonate a defense attorney? Wasn't the phony murder already good enough to have Ms. Byrde convicted for your crime?” “Pssshh, please. Just 'cause I was a humble loan shark, you think I hadn't heard about all those miraculous turnabouts that kept happenin' in court whenever Wright was involved? I couldn't risk havin' him figure out the murder I set up was a sham.” “Hold on... Are you saying you did it because you felt threatened by Mr. Wright?” “WHO'S THREATENED?! YOU SAYIN' I'M A COWARD?! NOBODY CALLS ME CHICKEN! JUST 'CAUSE HE'S GOT A NICE, COZY BLUE SUIT AND A HALF-ASSED LAW DEGREE, YOUSE THINK HE'S BETTER THAN ME?! WRIGHT'S GOT NOTHIN' ON ME! I COULDA FLATTENED HIM LIKE A PANCAKE! I COULDA SNAPPED HIM IN HALF LIKE A TWIG! FUCK HIM AND HIS LITTLE GIRL SIDEKICKS!” “I was only-” Tigre wouldn't hear any more, instead snapping at Simon. “And YOU! Tryin' to make me out like some kinda idiot! HAH! You really do think you're better than us, movin' right from prison into some big ivory tower on your high horse! If dis is how your little science project works, good luck with the rest of the killers in here! The guards are gonna be scrapin' your guts offa dese here walls and I will fuckin' laugh and LAUGH!” Much as Simon yearned to spout a comeback, he knew that it would be a pointless battle. The only way for him to come out victorious was to be above Tigre's rage, for being dragged down by it would take him to depths he'd rather not see. He crossed his arms over his chest and met the man's gaze with fierce eyes of his own. “Mr. Tigre, please don't-” Athena attempted, but it was no good. “GOOD DAY, MADAM!” Tigre stormed from the room so fast, the two guards had to rush after him in a panic. The moment the door slammed shut behind them, silence fell. Simon stopped the recording device and began to gather up his papers, a feeling of uncertainty nagging at him. Had they just single-handedly ruined the interview? What would Lang say when he found out about this? “... As always, Tony Tiger allowed his emotions to get the best of him. Had he been able to channel his anger into something productive, he would've led quite a successful life,” he remarked, if only to lighten the mood. Athena stared at him. “Simon... Did you seriously not get it?” “Get what?” “Mr. Tigre... He was never angry. Not once during the entire conversation. He was afraid.” “Afraid?” “Afraid of the Cadaverinis, afraid of Mr. Wright, afraid of our questions... I think he was even afraid of what you think of him, now that you're acquitted.” The notion was so backwards that it took a long time to truly sink in. When at last it did, Simon found himself walking away from the prison with a smile and a light, bubbly feeling in his chest. To Be Continued

[sirius-whoisleft]

GENERAL INFORMATION ➤

Full Legal Name: Sirius Orion Black III Nickname(s): Padfoot Age: 18 Gender & Pronouns: cisgender male; he/him Sexuality: Initially, I began writing him as a demiromantic pansexual. However, I am pleased to announce that with each day I write him? He not only gets gayer, but his capacity to love and crush and pine grows threefold. 

Date of Birth: November 3rd Horoscope: Scorpio, baby!!!!! Hogwarts House: Gryffindor, though and through Nationality: French by way of London  Occupation:

Sirius is currently a seventh year Gryffindor student at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry which is, all things considered, a pretty sweet gig. He’s preparing for NEWTS! He’s living off the trust fund provided for him by his dearly departed Uncle Alphard! He hasn’t been kicked out yet! He’s snogging his boyfriend in the library every chance he gets!

And, improbably, Sirius Black is preparing for his future. 

Recently, Sirius had been admitted to the competitive and prestigious Gringott’s cursebreaking training program. After graduation, he’ll make that five-times-a-week trek down to Diagon Alley and immerse himself in ancient societies, runes, translations, curse-handling, history, desert magic and...yes...wait for it...copious paperwork! Upon graduation from the program, Sirius will emerge a newly minted and proud Cursebreaker, working at the bank’s back office most days, doing research and translations and the like, but also getting his hands dirty on trips. The pyramids of Egypt and the tombs of China will call to him, and he can’t wait to see them all!

Unfortunately, his time with the cursebreakers will be cut short, and he’ll hurl himself headlong into his Order of the Phoenix membership under Alastor Moody’s dark influence...but that’s a story for another day.

Summarized in One Word: Bombastic!

APPEARANCE ➤

Faceclaim: Ben Barnes Height: Just as with the sexuality question, Sirius gets both gayer AND SHORTER the longer I write him. Currently he’s hovering around 5′7″ by accurate standards, but in my mind he’s a tiny little pocket bastard. Hair Color: Black Eye Color: Grey Noticeable Features: Devastating good looks. Emphasis on the devastating due to the strong Black family resemblance. A growing collection of tattoos. Long hair that he’s wont to elegantly flick away from his eyes. Perpetual haughty looks off into the distance. 

Typical Outfit or General Fashion Sense: Sirius dresses simply, but well. How well depends on the occasion and your personal opinion, but it can’t be argued that he looks good doing it. His typical layabout clothes consist of either a band-tee or button-down with a pair of trousers or muggle jeans (the magic of which Remus Lupin introduced him to); for formal affairs, he still remembers how to walk the walk and can pull off a suit and tie with uncomfortable ease. 

Truth be told, Sirius is still figuring out his fashion sense! He went from his clothing being dictated by his family to skating by on a Hogwarts uniform for several years. He’ll come into his own slowly and with purpose – the first step being an overindexing on punky, black leather jackets. 

HISTORY ➤

Hometown: London Financial Status: Trust fund bastard! After being cut off by the House of Black, Sirius coasted by broke and on the basis of favors from the Potter family for over a year before his Uncle Alphard passed away and left him a hefty little nest egg with which to make his way in the world. For all his talk about wanting to be of the common people and despising the wealthy and all they stand for, Sirius was raised with the safety net of exorbitant wealth and still defaults to many of those old habits and assumptions.  Spoken Languages: French was his first language, followed by English and then Latin. He’s deeply interested in dead languages and the study of runes.  Dream Job: Cursebreaker!  Bad Habits: Biting the inside of his cheek. Lashing out at those that care about him most. Pushing friends and concern away. Refusing to apply himself lest he try and fail. Squandering his education. Cocaine, alcohol, and other substances; his general proneness to addition. Recklessness and adrenaline-highs. Stealing the covers at night. Joking to cover up his real feelings. A proclivity for dark magic. Singing in the shower. 

FAMILY BACKGROUND ➤

Mother: Walburga Black (neé Black), estranged. Father: Orion Black, estranged.  Sibling(s): Regulus Black, estranged.  Pet(s): n/a Cousin(s): Bellatrix Black. Andromeda Black. Narcissa Black. Evan Rosier.

MAGICAL ABILITIES ➤

Wand: Reed, dragon heartstring, 10 ½ inches, rigid

Patronus (and which memory they’re currently using to cast a patronus if they can, or which one they’d use if they could): Like his Animagus form, Sirius’s patronus takes the shape of a large dog. He’s able to cast it with highly varying levels of success lately; while he has a good tutor in Remus and a willingness to try, Sirius’s magic has always been affected by his mood swings and he just...has too many of those to predict. His most successful attempts have been driven by days of rare concentration and memories colored by the other Marauders. Currently, were he to try and produce one, Sirius would think about the day that Remus kissed him in their dormitory following The Prank fallout – giving him affection and forgiveness and a second chance.

Boggart: The House of Black version of himself - the one that might have happened if he hadn’t been able to break away from his family in time.

OWLS: Ancient Runes, History of Magic, Astronomy, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Potions, Herbology, Arithmancy NEWTS: Ancient Runes (O), History of Magic (A), Astronomy (O), Charms (O), Defense Against the Dark Arts (O), Transfiguration (E), Potions (O), Arithmancy (O)

What Kind of Magic do They Excel at: 

Sirius’s best subject is Defense Against the Dark Arts. He is handy with a wand, knows his own power, and is unafraid to act in the heat of the moment – perhaps a bit recklessly, but there’s nothing life-or-death about the inside of the classroom, and so he simply manages to come off looking talented. 

The most important reason behind him succeeding in that class is the simple fact that he believes it to be useful; it’s going to Mean Something in the Real World, and so it’s one of the few school subjects that commands his attention and respect in equal measure. 

He also has a talent for Ancient Runes that’s finally being appreciated—now that he’s allowing people to appreciate it, and owning his deep interest in the subject openly—and, unfortunately, for the complexities of Dark Magic. 

PSYCHOLOGY ➤

MB Type: The Campaigner

Few personality types are as creative and charismatic as Campaigners. Known for their idealism and enthusiasm, Campaigners are good at dealing with unexpected challenges and brightening the lives of those around them. Campaigners’ imagination is invaluable in many areas, including their own personal growth.

Yet Campaigners can be easily tripped up in areas where idealism and kindness are more of a liability than an asset. Whether it is finding (or keeping) a partner, staying calm under pressure, reaching dazzling heights on the career ladder or making difficult decisions, Campaigners need to put in a conscious effort to develop their weaker traits and additional skills.

Enneagram: ENFP [read more]

Excellent communicators. ENFPs have outstanding communication skills and they know how to use them. They will engage anyone in conversation at the drop of a hat, and they know how to draw others out in a way that keeps the discussion flowing. Whether casually shooting the breeze or collaborating in the workplace, ENFPs provide the horsepower that keeps the engine of conversation humming along.

Imaginative. ENFPs are imaginative problem solvers and reject the idea that traditional ways are always the best. In every situation they believe an original approach is possible—and desirable—and they refuse to become prisoners of habit or routine. They see roadblocks as opportunities, and they confront every challenge they face with fresh eyes and no preconceived notions.

Natural leaders. ENFPs step forward to assume positions of leadership readily and instinctively. They are confident in their ability to handle demanding responsibilities many people find scary or intimidating. ENFP leaders are consensus builders who work hard to gain the trust of their associates, patiently listening to their ideas and reacting enthusiastically to their good suggestions. Their assertive, “can-do” attitude inspires others and motivates them to action.

Strong social conscience. Often active in social movements, ENFPs stand up for what they believe in without apology. Some people talk the compassion game but don’t follow through with meaningful action, but ENFPs believe it is vitally important to back up caring words with good deeds. Despite their friendly nature, an ENFP will go supernova with righteous anger when they are exposed to suffering and injustice. They can get quite loud and assertive, if that’s what it takes to get their opinions heard.

Hypersensitivity. ENFPs sometimes let their imaginations run wild and often perceive bad intentions that don’t really exist. Being hyper-alert and aware helps ENFPs improve their social comprehension, but reading between the lines only works when something is actually hidden there. If it isn’t, misunderstandings can occur and hurt feelings can damage good relationships.

Lack of focus and follow through. ENFPs are endlessly creative, capable of filling a thousand days with a thousand bold ideas. But they don’t always follow through on their inspirations, and if others are not brought on board to handle the details, their best ideas may never be put into practice. ENFPs rely on their initial excitement and passion too much and don’t always show the discipline necessary to translate their ideas into real-world production. They have a tendency to start new projects before the last ones are finished, and failing to see things through is where ENFPs sometimes come up short. 

Overthink things. ENFPs have a tendency to perceive slights, resentments or hostility where none actually exist, and their habit of overanalyzing other people’s behavior can lead to unnecessary anger and conflict. If ENFPs aren’t receiving as many compliments as they expect from their significant others, their insecurities can be activated and they may start to feel unappreciated and unloved. 

Overemotional and approval-seeking. While emotional expression is a core part of the ENFP's identity, they can come on too strong. The bubbly, energetic style of ENFPs doesn’t mesh well with every partner and introverts, in particular, can sometimes feel steamrolled in their presence. ENFPs are also approval-seekers, and in their desire to receive praise and acknowledgment they may try a little too hard to make a good impression, talking too much and listening too little in the process. 

Moral Alignment: Chaotic Good

Archetype:

55% Rebel - The Rebel is comfortable throwing caution to the wind—and bucking the system...if that means getting their point across.

25% Advocate - The Advocate is the one everyone wants on their side. In the name of justice, they are not afraid to challenge authority or speak up for others.

20% Caregiver - Friendly, sincere, and compassionate, the Caregiver finds their reward in helping others. No one could ask for a better best friend.

Temperament: Sanguine

[hoshihiime]

Since y’all are sleepin’ on PlatonicKallura/BFFs heres some stuff me n my friend came up with

♡ Delinquent AU where Keith’s the stereotypical loner kid at school and Allura is valedictorian

♡ Everyone is surprised when they head she and Keith are like, best fuckin’ friends

♡ Allura makes Keith go to her family's big fancy family house parties and forces him to wear suits. But also she does his hair and ties his tie, it’s such a process that she needs him at her house probably 2 hours early. Most times she’ll dump him in one of the guest rooms at her place just so she doesn’t have to worry about him sleeping in or being “fashionably” late

♡ The first time he sleeps over, her parents were skeptical, considering he’s a guy

♡ “Oh no, it’s okay dad! He’s gay!”

♡ Keith hates dressing formal, but he helps Allura with her hair and her dress sometimes ♡ They make fun of some of the party guests even though Allura says it’s rude (she’s trying not to laugh)

♡ “...Does….does that guy have fuckin rhinestones on his suit? Allura you told me this was a banquet not a costume party.”

♡ -Allura, trying so hard not to laugh behind her glass- “Keith I will literally hang you by your tie do fucking - n o t”

♡ Keith is a pretty rave girl

♡ Keith brings Allura to raves secretly when they wanna get the fUCK out of the fancy party scene

♡ “...Hey ‘llura, wanna go to a rave?”

♡ “What’s a rave?”

♡ Keith sheds a single tear

♡ Keith helps Allura pick out a rave outfit for their late night shenanigans because he’s NOT letting her walk in there with a cardigan and a dress shirt.

♡  Next day at school Allura feels like absolute DEATH.

♡ Keith pulls out two cans of Monster (green for him, blue for her) 

♡  “I remember what my first rave was like,”  

♡ “Fuck off, Kogane.” She grumbles, cracking open her energy drink.

♡  Keith gasps like a Southern Belle “Oh my, the princess swears! The world is truly ending!”

♡ Allura fucking LOVES going to raves now (specifically with Keith because he watches out for her LIKE A GOOD FRIEND)  

♡ And Keith is a good sport for going to her big family parties. He just thinks she needs some fun after playing proper

♡ Keith sleeps over sometimes when they get back to her place super late. He usually crashes in one of the guest rooms or even on her couch (she has a couch in her room, obviously <<)

♡ The first time Allura goes to Keith’s house to help him study and sees his room

♡ “Keith? Why is there a whole ass pallet of redbull in your room?”

♡ Without turning to look at her, tossing his jacket and backpack into his closet. 

♡ “Redbull gives you wings, Allura.”

♡ Keith makes her a KANDI bracelet that has her favorite colors and little princess crowns on it, she wears it to every rave.

♡ Allura tries making him one, but its a simple red and black one with his name on it

♡ Keith cries - a lot

♡ “Keith it’s okay you really don’t have to wear it I know it’s not as cool as the ones you usually ge-” ♡ “nO SHUT UP I LOVE IT I’LL CHERISH IT FOREVER”

♡ Lance McClain, TA (Allura knows him pretty well), part time DJ ♡  “Oh hey Keith! Isn’t that the guy you like at sch-”

♡  “wHAT? HUH? I’M SORRY ‘LLURA WHAT WAS THAT? THE MUSICS TOO LOUD AHAHAHAHA” -QUICKLY SHUFFLES AWAY- ♡ Allura asks for Lance’s number so they could discuss study sessions together - with Keith

♡  “Oh no! My father wants me home...for...chores...GOTTA LEAVE STUDY SESH EARLY SORRY GUYS CONTINUE WITHOUT ME!” ♡  Keith swears to never help nurse her after-rave drowsiness again (he does)

♡  Y’all didn’t think this came without some angst did you?

♡ Of course Allura’s parents think Keith is a bad influence. She’s got new clothes in her closet, ripped shorts, fishnets, crop tops, etc. She’s coming home late whenever she’s out with him.They’re afraid that soon it’ll effect her school work

♡ They threaten to send her to a private school if she keeps hanging out with him, whICH SHE IS SO NOT HAPPY ABOUT BECAUSE HE’S HER BEST FRIEND???

♡  Allura texts him what happened, she says she’s sorry but she can’t associate with him anymore.

♡ Keith texts her nonstop that night, telling her how thats bullshit, if theres anything he wants him to do to make her feel better - no responses

♡ Allura doesn’t talk to him at school, but only when necessary.

♡ Keith goes to raves alone again, but it isn’t as much fun when Allura isn’t there to make fun of him and point out cute guys hanging around

♡ Of course, not feeling it that night he decides to get outta there and just head home instead. Bumps into a few guys on the way out.

♡ Of course, gets into a fight despite him saying he was sorry and all. 

♡ One of the dudes ends up snapping the kandi Allura made for him, he fucking LOSES IT AND GOES OFF

♡ Keith’s still pissed, but is picking up the beads so he can fix it at home. His phone battery is almost dead, so there’s not much light to help him out. No texts from Allura either

♡ Someone offers to help him out, shining their own phone flashlight on the ground. It’s Lance, the DJ for that night, just finished packing up and heading out.

♡ Lance asks why he’s looking for beads if he could just replace them, looking at all the other various kandis on Keith’s arms.

♡  Keith has trouble responding nicely to that, still looking for the beads his BEST FRIEND gave to him.

♡  Lance doesn’t say much else, just helps out.

♡ Keith makes a mental note to remake the bracelet with a stronger string so it doesn’t break again.

♡ Alluras so miserable without her bestie to help keep her spirits high during family parties, she has no one to make fun of the pompous assholes with

♡ Alluras parent’s notice and when she tells them how important of a friend Keith is to her, they make an agreement. Don’t let him interfere with her schoolwork, and try not to be out so late - or at least keep them updated consistently

♡ Allura and Keith’s reunion at school is the cheesiest shit ever. Slow motion run and hugging with flowers and everything

♡ Allura, sobbing hysterically into Keith’s sweater that he’s worn for 4 days straight “I MISSED YOU SO FUCKING MUCH YOU EMO BASTARD” ♡ Keith, trying not to cry but will probably cry because he;s hugging her back so fucking tight. “I MISSED YOU TOO YOU FLUFFY PINK BITCH.”

♡  Lance, with his phone out silently recording his soon to be bf and the student body pres on the ground sobbing and hugging each other

♡ When Lance and Keith do eventually get together, Allura makes Kandis (Keith has taught her well) for all of them

♡ Keith is so proud - and probably crying again

♡ When security goes “No Entry-” 

♡ “It’s fine, my boyfriend’s the DJ” Says Keith, with a smug smile on his face when he and Allura go to raves now

BONUS:

♡ “Hey Allura, can I copy your homework?”

♡ “Keith, you do realize you’re  speaking to an honor roll student, right? You can’t just-”

♡ “I’ll take you to the club with me Saturday, your favorite DJs playing.”

♡  “Fine, and here’s the notes you missed in English last week while you were nursing your Monster energy headache away.”

IN CONCLUSION: KALLURA AS BEST FUCKING FRIENDS IS VALID.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.