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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 3 years

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Father of Mine – 1/2

Character: Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Summary: With the tragic passing of her mother, Y/N learns to the truth of who her father is.

Word Count: 4,000+

Warnings: Family death, cancer, absent father, cremation

A/N: The reader is described as tall in this fic. Bruce Wayne is 6′2 and I’m tall, so I’m indulging myself with no apologies. Read it or don’t.

“Do you want to say anything before we…” the operator asked her.

“No,” Y/N answered quickly.

“Oh, my assistant forgot to give you this,” the operator gave her a shy smile as he handed her a small cardboard box.

She opened it to find all of her mother’s jewelry that had been on her body at the funeral.

“Thank you,” Y/N told him.

“Ready?” The operator asked.

He had been so kind throughout the whole process. It was obvious he was used to people breaking down and being extremely emotional.

But Y/N had been stoic, almost concerningly so.

Though he wasn’t one to judge. Everyone grieved differently.

With the pull of a handle, Y/N watched her mother’s body going into the chamber.

“It will be a few hours,” the operator told her.

He meant it will it will take a few hours for her mother’s body to burn to ash. Then they would hand her a tacky vase with her remains.

Y/N just nodded. “I’ll go for a walk.”

As soon as she was outside, Y/N called her mother’s executor.

“Ms. Y/L/N, I was just about to call you.”

“I’m at the crematory,” she told him. “I figured we should discuss the bills that still need to be paid for.”

“Yes, of course. As I mentioned to you before, your mother’s life insurance covers quite a lot of it…” his words died out.

“But it’s still not enough,” Y/N finished for him. “I’ll get the money.”

She wasn’t exactly rich, but she also wasn’t living paycheck to paycheck. But people never realized how much money it cost for loved ones to die. It was honestly ridiculous.

“You might want to consider taking out a loan,” he tried to suggest gently.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Another thing, Ms. Y/L/N. There was an envelope with a name on it. And your mother left instructions on delivering the envelope to them.”

She stopped her pacing.

“What name is on the envelope?” Y/N asked.

There was a pause.

“Bruce Wayne.”

Y/N’s brow furrowed.

Of course she knew who Bruce Wayne was – everyone in Gotham did, as well as most of the country. He was a billionaire playboy, only making headlines when he was a mess. But every once in awhile his philanthropy would sneak in there. Y/N always assumed those were only to help recover his image and not because he was a good person.

“You still there?” The executor asked.

“Yeah. I’m just a bit confused. But please pass it along to him, if that’s what my mom wanted.”

“I can’t. The instructions specifically say for you to deliver the envelop to him in person.”

“In person?” Y/N groaned in annoyance as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

Why did all of this have to be so god damn complicated?

“Yes. Her instructions are…oddly specific."

“Fine,” she huffed. “I’ll pick up everything from your office before the work day ends.”

——————

Y/N stared at the envelop that she’d tossed on her coffee table as she sipped a rather large glass of red wine.

She was wracking her brain trying to think of a time when her mom mentioned knowing Bruce Wayne. But Y/N would’ve remembered her mom saying his name – even in passing. It’s not a name that one can drop casually.

Y/N pulled up her phone and googled him. But she looked at his history. Yes, he was from Gotham, as was her mom, but so were 10 million other people.

But then Y/N’s scrolling paused when she realized they went to the same high school: Gotham Academy. Not only that, they graduated in the same year.

‘Were they friends?’ Y/N wondered.

But just classmates or friends still didn’t seem to warrant a handwritten letter to be delivered after one’s death.

Y/N didn’t open the envelope.

Her mother’s instructions specifically told her not to. And if she put in that much of an effort to get this done after her death, Y/N wasn’t going to ignore such a request.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t curious.

“Fuck,” Y/N sighed before throwing back the rest of her wine.

——————

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I can’t grant you access to the building without your name being in the system by the company you’re visiting,” the building receptionist told her for the third time.

“I understand. But I called his office 30 fucking times and they refuse to put me through to him or get me an appointment,” Y/N practically growled.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I already called their office to say you were here and they didn’t recognize your name. I can’t let you through to the elevators.”

Y/N’s gaze flickered to the security guard who stood a few feet away. He was eyeing her now that there was clearly an argument going on.

Y/N wanted to roll her eyes. She had a good foot on him – even without her heels on. And he looked like he couldn’t run a 50 yard dash without passing out or vomiting. If he thought he was going to physically stop her, he had another thing coming.

“Listen, I am not some crazy fucking stalker. My mom knew Bruce Wayne and in her will she asked me to deliver this to him,” Y/N’s voice lowered and became disturbingly calm. “I don’t want to be here just as much as you don’t want to have this conversation.”

“Ma’am, I’m going to need you to calm down,” the security guard finally stepped forward.

“Oh, fuck off,” Y/N rolled her eyes at the rent-a-cop.

“Ma’am, I’ll have to ask you to leave,” he continued.

“Call me ma’am one more fucking time…” Y/N growled.

But the security guard was taking a step to her.

“Excuse me. What seems to be the problem here?” A voice suddenly interrupted.

Everyone turned to see a young man – younger than Y/N – glaring at the security guard just as he was about to grab Y/N.

“M-Mr. Drake, we were just escorting this young woman from the premises,” the guard stuttered out.

Everyone at the building knew every member of the Wayne family. But unlike his siblings, Tim Drake was at the office almost every day. As one should be when they’re the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company.

“For what reason?” Tim Drake asked.

“She insists on seeing Mr. Wayne. But she doesn’t have an appointment. For security reasons, I cannot let her through, obviously, unless the company she is visiting has put her into their system and the building’s system,” the receptionist explained nervously.

Y/N frowned as if she was bored of the whole thing.

Tim stepped forward. “May I ask what your business with Bruce Wayne is?”

Now that he was closer, Y/N noticed how exhausted he looked. He was handsome still, of course. But she wondered when he last got a good night’s sleep. He was shorter than her, probably standing at 5’5. And she still believed he was younger than her, which was wild seeing as he was already the CEO and couldn’t be older than 24.

Y/N sighed before she grabbed the envelope from her black leather satchel, and showed that Bruce Wayne’s name was handwritten on it.

“My mother wished me to personally deliver this to him.”

Tim tilted his head slightly. “Why isn’t she doing it?”

“Because she’s dead,” she shot back without emotion.

But Tim’s face became sympathetic. “I’m sorry. I should’ve assumed…”

“It’s fine,” Y/N quickly cut him off before he could continue.

She was so tired of being on the receiving end of people’s sympathy. It didn’t help. And the words stopped holding any meaning to her.

“But I’m sorry. Bruce isn’t in today. And he probably won’t be coming to the office for the rest of the week.”

“Oh,” was all she responded with.

Of course Bruce Wayne didn’t come to work. Why would he?

This was a stupid idea. And now she had made a scene because of it.

“But if you give me your information, I will personally let him know that you are trying to reach him.”

“Really?” Y/N asked in shock.

Tim smiled at her surprise. “Of course.”

“Here’s my card,” she quickly grabbed one from her wallet and then a pen. “All my info is on that.” She wrote something on the back. “And that’s my mom’s name.”

He took it from her and nodded. “What was your mother’s relationship with Bruce?”

Y/N shrugged. “Honestly, I have no idea. I’ve been trying to figure it out. Apparently they graduated in the same high school class. But that’s all I was able to find.”

He nodded.

“Thank you…Mr. Drake. For your help. Really,” she urged.

“Please, it’s just Tim.” Then he glared at the receptionist and security guard. “For you it is, at least.”

“Thank you again,” Y/N felt like saying it 30 more times still wouldn’t be enough.

“You don’t have to thank me. Someone will be in touch. Have a good day, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Y/N,” she corrected with a smile before she nodded and started backing away.

He smiled at her correction and gave a final nod.

——————

Y/N didn’t expect to hear from anyone for at least a week.

If the Wayne family was one thing, it was busy.

They probably had parties to go to, meetings to attend, private jets taking them around the world whenever they wished.

Why would they ever prioritize a meeting with her, a stranger?

So imagine her surprise when she received a call from an unrecognized number the same day she gave Tim Drake her card.

“Hello?” She answered.

Usually she would let any unknown number go to voicemail.

“Hello,” a British voice answered. “Am I speaking with Ms. Y/F/N Y/L/N?”

“This is she,” Y/N sat up straighter on her couch.

“This is Alfred Pennyworth. I work for Master Wayne and manage all his personal appointments. I was told by Master Tim that you wished to meet with him?”

“Uhhh. Yes. Yes, I do. Is that…is that possible?”

“Would you be able to stop by Wayne Manor on Friday afternoon?”

Y/N already knew she had nothing going on that would stop her from getting this done. But she still paused to pretend to think about it.

“Yes, Friday afternoon should be fine. Are you sure he doesn’t just want me to stop by Wayne Enterprises?”

It felt oddly intimate to stop by Wayne Manor. Wouldn’t they want to meet her in a more secure location like a corporate building with security that already hated her?

“He is quite certain. Should I send a car for you Ms. Y/L/N?”

A car?

Y/N felt even more out of her depth now.

“Oh, no. That won’t be necessary. I’ll be there.”

“I look forward to meeting you, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Thanks,” she answered before hanging up and realizing that probably wasn’t the proper response to such a polite goodbye.

——————

“I haven’t heard that name since high school,” Bruce had muttered as he stared at the business card for what felt like the thousandth time.

“Yes, and the end of your relationship did not end on the best of terms,” Alfred commented.

Y/M’s/N Y/L/N had been Bruce’s high school sweetheart.

An she had seen the last moments of Bruce’s normal life.

Upon graduation, Bruce decided to leave Gotham and that’s how his second life was founded. The two of them broke up before the summer after graduation had even ended.

Well, “Breakup” was a strong word.

Bruce stopped answering her calls.

She was his first love and he continued to love her.

But once Bruce realized where his life was going and who he wanted to be, he knew he couldn’t drag her into it. She deserved better.

And Bruce was a coward about relationships then. Maybe he still was.

“I am certain you did a thorough background check on her already,” Alfred commented with a smirk.

Bruce took in a breath before listing off all of her accomplishments. “Y/F/N Y/L/N. Graduated number one in her class at Gotham Academy. She was the star of the track team, breaking the regional record for fastest time in 100m, 200m, and 400m races. Also captain of her soccer team. Attended NYU’s photography program before dropping out after a year. Now she’s a professional photography. Her work’s been featured in Vogue, New York Times, National Geographic…amongst others.”

“Rather an impressive woman,” Alfred said.

Bruce nodded.

“I should get the tea and coffee ready for her arrival.” And with that, Alfred left Bruce in the drawing room.

30 minutes later, the doorbell rang.

Bruce glanced down at his watch: she was right on time.

He heard Alfred saying his pleasantries before he heard the clicking of her heels as she rounded the corner to enter the room he was waiting in.

For being a famous photographer, she could’ve been a runway model with her height and the way she walked into the room, completely owning it. She wore four-inch heels, only adding to her natural tallness. And her bright, red coat only added to her presence.

For a split second, Bruce was convinced that he was looking at an Amazon. Diana immediately flashed into his mind for a split second. Perhaps that was what Y/M’s/N needed help with: to get her daughter to her real people. But how would she have known Bruce Wayne had such connections? Unless she knew Batman’s true identity…

As soon as Y/N spotted him in the room, he rose from his seat.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” Bruce greeted.

He took a step forward and held out his hand.

“You guys really love the formalities.” She said it with a dark evenness, but it was clearly a joke. “Y/N is fine, Mr. Wayne,” she added as she shook his hand.

“In that case, it’s Bruce,” he countered with a soft smirk.

There was something so familiar about her. But Bruce knew they’d never met.

“Thank you for seeing me. I don’t want to waste anymore of your time,” Y/N quickly got to it. She opened her purse to grab the envelope.

“My mom wanted you to have this. And she wanted to make sure I was the one to give it to you,” Y/N explained as she offered it to him.

Bruce took it carefully, but didn’t open it. “Yes, I heard about her passing. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” she said hurriedly, making it obvious to Bruce that she did not want nor need his condolences.

Bruce nodded slowly.

There was a pause.

“Do you know what it says?” He asked her lightly.

She shook her head. “I wasn’t supposed to read it.”

“I see.”

“I should really be going. I have a flight to catch later tonight.” Most people that visited Wayne Manor wished to stay there forever. Or their curiosity got the best of them and their eyes took in every little detail.

But Y/N looked like she’d rather be anywhere else. And she wanted to get out as soon as she possibly could.

“Thank you again for seeing me,” she rushed out.

Without waiting for his answer, Y/N turned and started walking out of the room.

But she only got a few steps before she stopped.

Bruce watched her shoulders tense and her body move as she was clearly taking in deep breath.

Slowly, Y/N turned around to face him.

“Were you friends?”

Bruce gave her a watery smile. “She was my girlfriend in high school.”

Y/N seemed annoyed by that answer. “She never mentioned you. Not once.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed at that and his eyes zoned out as if he was revising the past in his mind. “I’m not entirely surprised. Things didn’t really end well between us.”

She nodded slowly. “Goodbye, Mr. Wayne.”

And Y/N turned and strutted out of the room without looking back.

As soon as Bruce heard her cab drive away, he ripped open the envelope and pulled out a letter.

He barely noticed that Dick had walked into the room. “May I ask…Who was the extremely attractive and tall woman that just walked out?”

But Bruce didn’t hear him as his eyes raced across the letter. His heart sped as he continued reading.

“Bruce?” Dick asked after being ignored. “Is she your next conquest or what?”

It wasn’t until Bruce was done reading the letter for the third time that he finally looked up and acknowledged Dick.

Alfred had also walked into the room, unbeknownst to Bruce.

“You OK?” Dick asked, now concerned with how silent Bruce had become.

“Master Wayne?” Alfred also urged.

“That was…my daughter,” Bruce finally muttered.

Dick blinked before his eyes grew wide in shock.

Alfred seemed less surprised, almost as if he had already put that together.

“Excuse me,” Bruce told them and exited the room.

———

Dick and Alfred must’ve warned the rest of the family not to bother Bruce in the cave. Usually he would’ve been disturbed by now.

Bruce had been at the computer for hours.

Alfred was the first person to come down, carrying a tray with dinner and tea.

The butler wasn’t surprised to find Y/N’s face all over the screens.

If Bruce had left any available information hidden before inviting Y/N to the manor, it was all out there now. Bruce knew everything about Y/F/N Y/L/N that was public knowledge – probably even some things that were not.

“You know, you did not seem all that surprised,” Bruce said to Alfred as he put the tray of food down next to him.

“Seemed rather obvious, didn’t it?”

Bruce quickly turned to look at him. “It did?”

Alfred smirked. “Her eyes,” was all he said.

“The color?”

Alfred shook his head. “As soon as she walked into the manor, they were reading me.” He tilted his head in Bruce’s direction. “Observation. Perception. Attention to detail...That is all you, Master Wayne.”

“The way she held herself,” Alfred continued, "Shoulders held back, head high, walking with purpose. No hesitation.”

“Also me?” Bruce asked.

Alfred simply nodded.

“I don’t think she liked me very much,” Bruce sighed.

He didn’t know how he felt about that yet.

“A lot of people think you don’t like them when you first meet them,” Alfred countered. “Because I don’t trust them yet.”

Alfred raised his brows and silently ask him, ‘Don’t you see my point?’

Bruce rubbed his face and reached for the tea on the tray, ignoring all the food.

“I don’t know why you’re so entertained by this, Alfred.”

“Yes, I was entertained. I just saw a younger, female version of you, Master Wayne.”

“I abandoned her,” Bruce shot.

“You didn’t know she existed,” Alfred corrected.

“And why do you think that is?”

Alfred’s face dropped a little bit when he noticed the envelope discarded on the far end of Bruce’s desktop.

He looked down at the ground as he asked, “Might I ask what the letter said?”

Bruce glared at the letter as if touching it would burn him.

But after a moment, he grabbed it and quickly handed it to Alfred.

Bruce,

If this letter has finally reached you, it is because I have passed.

I must admit that I wrote this letter mostly in the event that I leave my daughter before she is an adult. But once Y/N turned 18, I decided to still pass this along to you.

There is no easy way to tell you this, so I will get to the point.

The young woman who delivered this letter to you is your daughter, Bruce.

Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N.

When I found out I was pregnant with her, I was only 18. We had just graduated high school. You had started traveling. You called less and less. And you grew more distant – physically and emotionally. Eventually, you stopped answering my calls altogether. I left you a voicemail, only saying that I so desperately needed to talk to you, that I needed you.

But you never called me back.

With no words at all, you made it very clear that you no longer wanted anything to do with me.

But there I was, a teenager who was pregnant with our child.

I would be lying if I said I never considered terminating my pregnancy. I was scared and you broke my heart. All I wanted to do was erase you from my life.

But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Once I decided what my future was going to be, I also decided that I did not want you to have any part in it.

I knew even if you pretended to play the doting father and the committed partner, you would grow tired of us eventually. You would resent me and our child for bringing you down. And you would brush us aside for yourself.

I realized I would rather Y/N have no father at all than one who would only disappoint her over and over again.

To this day, I truly believe I did the right thing for all three of us.

There are not enough words to explain the complicated woman that Y/N grew up to be. But I will try my best. I think I owe you that at least.

Or maybe you have no interest.

I don’t know how she became so much like you, even when I never so much as showed her a picture of you or uttered your name.

She enjoys being alone – almost to her own detriment. I constantly catch her repressing her feelings, always staying strong for everyone else. It reminds me of you. She’s assertive and confident, never letting anything stand in the way of what she wants. Sometimes I don’t think she’s scared of anything. It worries me, just like it worried me when I thought the same of you.

I truly don’t know what you will do with this information.

But…if you have any desire to form some sort of relationship with her, then you should know this: she will not make it easy for you. She will push you away. And she might even hate you. I raised her to never need a man in her life, and she’ll make sure you know that.

I don’t expect anything from you. I never did.

But I would just like to know there might be someone who will be there for her should she need them.

Goodbye, Bruce.

Alfred slowly handed the letter back to Bruce when he was finished.

“I pushed her away because I knew what I was about to become,” Bruce explained darkly. “And I didn’t want her anywhere near it. She would’ve been in danger.”

“Y/N, as well,” Alfred added.

“But had I known…if I just listened to her–”

“Master Wayne, I thought we had agreed to never linger on the ‘what ifs.’”

That sure silenced Bruce.

“Now, what do you plan on doing, Master Wayne?”

———

Y/N frowned when her phone started vibrating and she recognized the name of her mom’s executor on her phone screen.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Y/L/N, how are you?”

“Fine. How are you?” She was quick, wanting to get this over with. Surely, he had bad news. Another medical bill came in or some other expense that slipped by them.

“Good, good. Just curious…have you placed any payments to our various claims?”

“Uhhh…no. But I’m working on it.”

Y/N hadn’t expected to get a call nagging about paying bills.

“No, no, no. You misunderstand. They’ve all been paid,” the executor explained.

Y/N sat up straighter in her chair. “What? That’s not possible.”

“An anonymous donor. They somehow got record of all your outstanding payments and covered all of them.”

Y/N was stunned to silence.

“Ms. Y/L/N…this is a good thing.”

She blinked and shook her head. “Right. Yes, of course. I just…thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. Thank this guardian angel of yours.”

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

Part 2

Let me know what you think!!!

#bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #bruce wayne reader insert #batfam #batman #batman x daughter!reader #dad!bruce wayne #dad!batman #batman family #batman universe #batman angst #bruce wayne angst #alfred pennyworth #father!bruce wayne #father!batman

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xpeachesncream · 4 years

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how many drinks? | one shot (jjk)

summary: the question is - how many drinks would it take for you to sleep with your bestfriend?

pairing: jjk x reader

genre: (18+) college au, dance group au, bestfriends/bestfriends with some benefits au | fluff, smut, sprinkle of angst

words: ~12.2k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, kind of crack-y, dancer!jk to fulfill my needs, unprotected sex, sprinkle of dirty talk, fingering, sprinkle of a handjob, slight biting, nails digging into skin, oc almost gets taken advantage of/forced into doing things she doesn’t wanna do, rough handling, song kang is in this too because i’m also a hooch for him but he’s an ass here, alcohol consumption, intoxication, mentions of blunts/smoking, house parties, cuddling, kissing/makeout sessions, straddling, breast/nipple play, hickeys, fucking on the edge of the bed, multiple orgasms, fingering, licking/neck kisses, oral (f. receiving)

note: one shot title is taken from miguel's song ‘how many drinks’ + a couple of things--

both hoseok and jimin’s piece mentioned below are inspired by real-life pieces my old dance mentor has choreographed and taught. this is the inspiration behind hoseok’s couple piece; this is the inspiration for jimin’s piece

i’m a hooch for all three of them in this video

enjoy imagining koo and oc dancing part of their couples piece like this 🥺

"Y/N." You picked up Jungkook's call as you sat at your desk in your dorm room. You had been finishing up your bio homework until the interruption came blaring through on your headphones.

"Yes?"

"Can I nap in your room?"

"The fuck I look like? A hotel?" You snorted.

"Yeah, a 5 star at that with how good you take care of me." He tries to butter you up, causing you to roll your eyes.

"You're lucky I like you."

"Yesssssssss!" You hear him faintly exclaim on the other line. "Be there in a sec."

"You know my doors are always unlocked." Which, it was true. So many of your friends had decided to live off campus that you and your other bestfriend [and beloved suitemate] were probably the only few left on campus. And that meant people were constantly in your room, hanging out or using both of your rooms, [with permission] or the couches in the shared living room space of your suite as a place to nap. College, amirite? Why the fuck would you lose your parking spot to go back to your apartment when you have friends who lived right on campus? You weren't just good for smuggling free food from the cafeteria to your broke ass, struggling off-campus friends.

Sooner or later, you're greeted by a fluffy, black-haired Jungkook, looking like his shit must have air-dried with how wavy and voluminous it was. He swings your door open so aggressively that you jump a bit in your seat, swinging off your headphones like you weren't even expecting him. You watch as he flings himself onto your neatly made bed like he hasn't felt a bed in years.

"Ugh, yes." He moans as he belly flops onto your bed and stays in that position.

"When's your next class, you little baby?"

"In like an hour or so, I don't know." He says sleepily. "Wake me up, please?"

"Sure." You realize it's Wednesday, and he definitely has Ecology lab later at 3:00PM. You figured you'd wake him up by 2:30 just to give him enough time to groggily walk his ass back over to the science building.

You and Jungkook weren't really close before college. It was moreso that you knew of each other since high school because of mutual friends. You'd see him at parties and he'd see you, but it was never more than the casual hi and bye and small talk. Maybe the occasional comments on facebook pages and the likes on pictures on instagram. But foreel, other than that, that's as real as your friendship got for awhile. You didn't mind it though, you were good with your set of friends and he was good with his. A lot of your friends attended the same university as you two and then your groups intertwined even more.

But, it wasn't until the past couple of months or so where you both unexpectedly got really close - simply just by talking more and being around each other more. You both had similar interests and Jungkook wasn't the most vocal in his group, but with you, he seemed to talk endlessly. He loved comics and he loved raving to you about Marvel and DC superheroes. He loved to draw, and he'd draw you things every now and then - his most recent being you as a scientist superhero saving the world from overgrown malaria-infected mosquito monsters. It was the cutest thing you had ever seen, and you tacked it against your cork board near your desk. Then, small things like that turned to bringing you food or boba, being stuck at the hip where he'd only go to a certain place on campus if you were there; texting each other inside jokes and funny ass tweets all day turned to facetime sleepover calls and then late hangouts eventually turned to actual sleepovers in your bed, where he'd drape his arm around while you both slept but it never escalated into anything more than that in bed. Although he did fucking hate your medium-sized Olaf plushie that took shelter on your bed - he'd always hike it across the room and talk about how annoying he is and how he's always taking his spot. You never understood it, really.

And then soon, it turned to small displays of affection behind closed doors, where Jungkook would hold you close. Hold your hand if you two were in the room watching a show, or movie. Small kisses exchanged. Big kisses exchanged, making out sessions. But, that was literally it. Nothing else. No sex. No pressure. Lots of unspoken feelings, obviously, but you weren't gonna be the one to bring that up. Because you were comfortable, and if anything, you didn't wanna ruin what you guys already had going.

Like, is this a friends with benefits thing? Maybe? Maybe not? It was hard to label it because it's not like you both determined so, it kind of just fell together that way. And there was really no pressure to fuck every single time you got affectionate. It was cute, sweet. And no one really knew it was like that behind doors - possibly your suitemate Kass and her boyfriend, Jimin, but that's only because you shared the dorm suite with her. Jimin was also one of Jungkook's roommates and his really good friend, so whenever they had slept over on the same night, it was pure and utter chaos. But honestly, if Kass and Jimin hadn't been around you two much, they most certainly wouldn't have the idea.

Whatever it was, it was a comfortable closeness that you both experienced and appreciated. However, the both of you were afraid of discussing what this really was, afraid it'll ruin the dynamic. The atmosphere. Having to come to terms of what it might, or might not be. Neither of you can fully admit that you like the other. Although, it got hard. People did lightly tease you two because you both always looked for each other and were stuck by the hip out on campus.

Oh, well. Bottom line is that you liked your relationship where it was at, but it doesn't mean you haven't thought about the what if's. Jungkook was insanely attractive, and it's no lie that girls swarmed him left and right on campus, but he didn't give a shit [either he didn't give a shit or he was dumb as hell?]. Okay, rewind — to be fair, he would have a fling or two, flirt once or twice. He'd tell you so and so was cute and that they've hung out or texted, but that's it. He just wasn't necessarily looking for anything cause he too enjoyed where he was at with everything.

It doesn't take long before Sleeping Beauty is snoring face down on your bed, looking like Patrick Star with the way he's sprawled out. But, you continue to do your work until it was time to wake him. You gently shake him, his puppy eyes looking back at you after being face down all nap.

"Class time."

"No." He groans. "Can't I just stay here with you?"

"No, dude. Get to class." You chuckle. "You already skipped last week."

"Yeah, but this is a new week Y/N."

"Jungkook." You almost say in a scolding manner.

"Fiiiiiiine." He whines as he shoots up and hops off from your bed. "Are you going to our party on Friday?"

"I said I'd think about it right?"

"Yeah, like on Monday. It's Wednesday."

"And I'm still thinking about it." You snort, making him pout.

"Just come for a little bit."

"Why? You know parties aren't my thing and you'll be too drunk anyways. I'll end up wanting to go right the fuck back home as soon as I step outside."

"I'd like to be drunk and have you there. It'll be more fun!" He pouts as he holds your hand and swings it back and forth.

"I mean, to be completely honest, I'll probably end up going because of Kass anyways."

"Because of Kass." He rolls his eyes. "Oooookay. Not because of you, Jungkook, no." He says sarcastically, brows furrowed.

"Ew. You're such a fucking whiner. Leave." You laugh, throwing an empty water bottle at him.

"I'm kidding." He chuckles. "Wanna grab dinner with me after practice?"

"Sure. If you pay." He groans

"Fine. I'll see you later." He puckers up his lips to blow you a kiss, which you automatically reject by giving him a look before turning your attention back to your homework. You were hoping he'd offer to go to In-n-Out because you were craving that #2 with animal fries and a neapolitan shake, plus there was a Target in the same plaza that you wanted to drag him to for new pens and clearance sale shopping. And you wouldn't even warn him about it. He would tag along, no question.

Hoseok stands in front of the mirrors in the studio, pacing back and forth as your dance group learned a couple of 8-counts from this new piece he had been brewing up. Apparently, it was supposed to be a couples piece but he wasn't sure if he was going to keep it that way. He watched to see if this would be better as a group, or if he should stick to his original plans.

Your college dance group was a small group formed by people with pure, genuine interest and love for modern hip hop choreography. Hoseok was the dance lead, with Jimin being the back up lead. The group came together, taught each other pieces, taught workshops for those interested on campus and performed at the various talent shows and productions the school had throughout the year. It was just your group's way of showcasing your talents, something you all purely enjoyed, and it was nice to see the love and support given by the audiences.

"Okay, run that from the top one more time please. We'll take break after, swear." Hoseok chuckles and gives Jimin the cue to start the song back at the starting point. Jungkook makes a funny face at you as he huffs and puffs, trying to catch his breath from the last time you went through the counts.

"Ew." You giggle, slightly pushing him aside. Miguel's How Many Drinks begins to blast through the studio speakers, Jungkook doing his best to sing along and match his tone all while focusing on his steps. Once you're done going through the counts, the music continues to play, Jungkook twirling over to you just to sing—

"Cause I ain't leavin' aloneeee, I feel like I could be honest, babe." He spins to your other side. "We both know that we're grown, that's why I wanna knooooow - how many drinks will it take you to leave with meeeeEEeeeE?"

"You can give me all the drinks in the world and I swear I still wouldn't." You snort, making him frown and click his teeth.

"Too bad that's not really how you act when I ask to sleep over, though." Silence as you stick your tongue out at him. Cause, yeah. You really do tell him to sleep over without hesitation. You loved his company, you can’t lie. "Yeah, fraudulent as hell. I never taught you that." He jokes.

"Shut up, Jungkook—"

"Okay!" Hoseok says, clapping his hands. "This'll be a couple piece. I honestly think it'll work better that way, just like I envisioned it. I'll work with the couple to clean this up before the performance, but to whoever isn't casted for this, Jimin still has a piece to teach the rest of you, so don't feel discouraged!" Hoseok chuckles a bit, giving the rest of the group a small smile. "So with that being said - Y/N, Jungkook, I want you two to do this piece."

"Ouuuuuuuu." Jimin teases you from the sidelines, causing you to put up your middle finger.

"We won’t let you down, cap." Jungkook swings his arm around you.

"I'll teach you the rest of the piece next practice so we can start polishing it up and making it clean before the talent show."

"Sounds good with me." You flatly say, even though 100%, you're pretty excited for many reasons. One, you had been wanting to do a solo or couples piece for awhile, and two, your partner was Jungkook. Your best friend, your ride or die, the dude you've spent so much time with and gave your affection to behind closed doors. It made you giddy just thinking about it, even if you'd blatantly lie to his face later on when he'd tease you. And Jungkook felt the same. You missed the way he subtly bit on his bottom lip when you were named his partner, just so he wouldn't smile too big in front of you.

After practice, you egg him on enough to agree to take you to In-N-Out, without hinting at the plan you had drafted out in your head earlier. The plan that says you're gonna drag his ass to Target afterwards and he had no choice but to come along.

"Y/N, you liar." He groans. "You said you weren't gonna go to Target." He pouts as you follows behind you anyway.

"Kook, I literally just need to get one thing."

"What's the one thing that you couldn't get on your own time?"

"I don't know, I'll have to find out when we get in there." You giggled, causing him to groan again. "Plus, we're here already. Killing two birds with one stone."

"Ah shit, I suppose I can get some bottles for the party."

"Yeah, make yourself useful Jungkook."

"Yeah, make yourself useful Jungkook, aheh." He mocks your tone and does that really weird and ugly ass laugh that dudes always do when they try to mock girls, however, you ignore it because you've just stepped into Target and bitch, this was Disneyland to you. Heaven. Paradise.

"Hm, what are we drinking on Friday?" He says his text outloud as he follows you around the dollar section where you begin to pick up really unnecessary items that you're probably just gonna store away in or around your desk somewhere.

"Should be holy water because you all need it."

"Mmm, I don't know, I don't think they have that but we can check." He responds ever so seriously, causing you to chuckle.

"How many people are you expecting?"

"Honestly, I don't even know. We said we'd keep it to close friends only. I don't really have any friends, so that's all on them."

"Ah, makes sense as to how the entire class was invited." You fire back sarcastically. "Your upstairs neighbors are really gonna have a blast."

"They're invited too."

"You guys are so dumb." He laughs when you hit him against the chest. After walking a bit, the two of you head towards the alcohol aisle, Jungkook grabbing what his arms will allow him to grab since alcohol is a little cheaper here than other grocery stores. "Isn't there a limit as to how much alcohol you can buy?"

"I don't see anything anywhere." He hauls about 4 big bottles back to the cashiers. "Besides, I'm giving them business compared to Safeway and those other grocery stores."

"Grab the coupon at least, genuis. It could save you some money." You take off the coupons from the three bottles.

He looks down at the coupon attached to the 4th bottle. "Sign up today and get 2% cash back on every bottle you buy." He snorts after reading the coupon outloud. "More like sign up today and get 2% cash back turnt." He looks at you. "This doesn't sound like a coupon, miss. Where's the ‘get 5 dollars off’ bullshit?"

"2% cash back turnt? Really?" You furrow your brows at him and hand the coupons to the cashier. "Here. God, maybe you shouldn't be hosting parties with your roommates."

"Maybe not." He holds his bags, even grabbing onto yours as you both walk out to his car. He turns up the radio, the both of you singing along to the songs coming through. When he pulls up to the lot of Edgehill Village, he parks in someone else's marked spot only because it's technically next to your door and he doesn't anticipate to stay long. But honestly, that never goes as planned. He grabs your bag from the trunk, silently following behind you as you unlock your door to an empty suite - just as you expected. Kass was most likely at Jungkook’s, spending the night with Jimin, and you'd be alone for the night. It didn't matter to you though, the peace and quiet was always nice.

"You sure you're gonna be okay here alone?" You nod.

"Yup. It's kind of nice actually." You lean forward onto your bed since it's raised a little higher than usual with bed risers, and open up your laptop. Jungkook sets your Target bag down and wraps his arms around you from behind, planting a kiss on your cheek and on your jawline.

"You sure you don't want me to sleep over? Cuddles sound nice."

"It sounds like you want to."

"Only if you want me to." He nuzzles his head against your neck, waiting for your response.

"Kook, please." You chuckle. "If you wanna sleepover, then go ahead."

"Yesssss! I do."

"Well you need to find parking, or else the person that owns that parking spot will be highly upset."

"You got it, captain. Pull up a movie!" He says, dashing out of your room to move his car. He's most likely going to come back in another 5 minutes, being that the only free parking at this time of night is probably on the other end in the gym's lot, or somewhere on the streets [if he got lucky].

And so that 5 minutes sure does go by before Jungkook is breathing heavily when he walks into your room, duffle bag swung over his shoulder with a big, dorky ass smile on his face.

"I'm back!"

"I see." You snort, still going through the movies.

"Hey, let's run through what Hobi taught us first."

"Ugh, I'm so tired though."

"Cooooome on, just once." He pulls you by the hand, his body pressed against yours as his his other arm wraps around your waist. "Please." His puppy dog eyes look down at you, causing you to push him away because fucking hell, that shit makes you weak. Makes the pussy throb just a lil, you know? Christ.

"Only if you watch 10 Things I Hate About You."

"Sure, I don't mind." He pulls up the song on your laptop. The both of you face the mirror in front of you, careful not to hit each other since you had such limited space to fully move around. Running through it once was a full blown lie, being that you both are doing it for almost 5-6 times before you're laughing at how out of breath you already are. You're so out of it and winded by the last time around that you accidentally hit Jungkook in the face, causing him to whine and stumble off to the side.

"Oh shit!" You laugh. "I'm so sorry, Kookie!" You run over to cup his face. "Are you okay? You good?"

"Shit, Y/N. You have a heavy hand." He keeps his hand against his cheek.

"I'm sorry." You lean in to plant a kiss on his cheek, but Jungkook being Jungkook, he looks to the side to have his lips meet yours instead. He picks you up in one swift motion, your legs wrapped around his torso as he sits you on your bed, your hands still cupping his face. And honestly, you really wanted him. You've always wanted him since this whole thing started. God, he was attractive to you - every little thing about Jungkook was a fucking weakness, but you weren't gonna let up first. Not tonight. The scar on his cheek, his soft, fluffy hair, his toned body, his muscular ass arms, the way he held onto you when you both slept, the way he kissed you.

Lord, he was truly going to be the death of you.

Before the kiss could get any deeper, you smile into it and back away, keeping your gaze on the small, dazed smile Jungkook has on his face.

"Can we watch now?" You ask, subtly biting onto your bottom lip.

"Yeah, good idea."

"Actually, after all that, I need to shower first."

"Can I join?" His eyes light up.

"Sit your ass down. You can go after." You laugh as you hop off the bed, grabbing your pajamas for a quick shower. You literally take 10 minutes, walking back into your room with wet hair and an oversized shirt and shorts underneath. Although you had been completely comfortable with Jungkook, the both of you have never really seen each other fully naked like that. Whenever he slept over, you were both always fully clothed. You've seen him hop out of the shower and come in shirtless, but that's probably about it. You start to brush your teeth as he rummages through his emergency duffle bag full of shit that he holds in the trunk of his car, grabbing a fresh pair of clothes to change into after his shower. You already know his ass is gonna use your shampoo for everything because he loves the smell of it and always talks about how good your hair smells.

While waiting for him, you slip yourself under your covers and pull the laptop closer to you, scrolling through your phone aimlessly to see what's new on instagram. Which, is absolutely nothing, so you let out a dissatisfied sigh.

"Ready!" He comes in, tossing his towel aside and shutting off the lights to crawl into your bed with you.

"You smell just like me." You chuckle.

"It's great, isn't it?"

"Your hair isn't bothering you?" You run your hand through his incredibly wet hair as he shakes his head.

"No, I'll be good."

"Okay." He wraps his arm around you to pull you onto his body, the movie already off to a start. As the movie goes on, you find yourself getting sleep as both of your bodies sink deeper into the sheets, Jungkook still not letting you go. The laptop rests on his belly, while your head is on his chest, his heartbeat the one thing putting you to sleep pretty quickly. He's comfortable, just as you are. He's warm, you're warm. He's content, you're content. You drift off to sleep while he continues to watch, knowing your bodies will be pressed tightly against each other in the morning.

"Kook there's so many fucking people here. The cops are gonna come and shut this down quick." Jungkook shrugs.

"Oh well, wasn't my idea." He snorts. "Shot?!" He hands you a shot that you take with ease, feeling like you aren't drunk enough for all this shit and all these people. "Atta girl."

"Yuck, though." You slightly make a sour face as you feel the warmth trickle down your throat and into your stomach.

"Heeeey, whyyyyy do you look so FaMiliaR?" This girl asks Jungkook in a weird, flirty tone, where every other consonant goes up and down. She's obviously really fucking drunk and out of her mind because for one, she definitely goes to the same school as you two, and she has definitely been in class with Jungkook before.

"Oh uh, my name's Justin Bieber. I used to sing from time to time." He says nonchalantly with you furrowing your forehead at him because what kind of response did he just give her?! What did he just tell her? You're so embarrassed that you slowly turn on your heel and walk out of the kitchen as you hear him sing One Less Lonely Girl hella out of tune, with the girl completely smitten over his drunk ass.

"Where's Jungkookie?" Kass asks as she sits on Jimin's lap.

"Over there, pretending to be Justin Bieber apparently."

"Oh, nice. You don't come across that often." Jimin says sarcastically. "Are you staying here tonight?"

"Yeah, stay here tonight, with Kookie." Kass wiggles her eyebrows, her cheek resting on top of Jimin's head. "It's not like that's anything new."

"Um, I'd rather much be back in the dorm."

"That cold, lonely place? When you could be here, in such a pretty apartment with such a pretty boy?" You shake your head at her.

"Unbelievable." You mutter. Suddenly, an incredibly tall man walks into the apartment, reaching about 6'1 and almost hitting the ceiling with his tall ass. You've never seen him before, but he walks in with Hoseok and Namjoon and for whatever reason, you can't peel your eyes off of him. "Woah, who's that?"

"Who's what?" Jungkook finally comes to your side after being Justin Bieber for a good minute or so, his eyes following yours. Who was he and why were you looking at him so intensely?

"That's Kang! You've never met him?" Jimin says, doing a slight nod to greet him as he passes by. Kang and his fine self looks up at you, a small smirk creeping up at the corner of his lips as he continues through to the kitchen behind Hoseok and Namjoon. "He's a transfer and on the basketball team."

"He's fiiiiine." You and Kass swoon over him a bit, Jungkook giving you a look.

"He's alriiiight. I've seen better."

"Shut up, no one asked you." You lightly punch him on the side, making him lightly groan while Jimin and Kass laugh. The rest of the party, you suddenly have a goal to find out more about Kang and see what he's about because you and Jungkook weren't official. You both didn't really know what this was, but one thing you knew for sure was that it wasn't anything exclusive. You wouldn't bring it up, so wouldn't Jungkook - so was this really something all that meaningful?

Whatever, you didn't wanna keep going in circles about it.

Jungkook fucking hates it though, and he's honestly really jealous that you're suddenly trying to be all cute and woo the new, tall, handsome [but he's not really that fucking handsome to Jungkook for christ's sake] basketball player. Jungkook almost wants to mock his every move and how suavé he is, almost looking like a try hard with the way he's leaning against the wall and talking to you.

Wait— he's talking to you?! You were literally right next to him 2 seconds ago.

"What the fuck?" He squints, trying to make sure he's actually looking at you.

"You're so full of shit." Jimin laughs.

"What are you talking about?"

"Why don't you just admit that you like her and stop being childish about it?"

"I don't like her. She's just my bestfriend."

"Um, okay?" Jimin snorts. "When you sleep at her place every chance you get and vice versa? When she has a ton of your shirts and hoodies in her own fucking closet? When you always get so affectionate with her in the dorm? Sure, you don't like her."

"How do you know that?"

"I just do, you've done it in front of me and Kass before but you both tried playing it off. I don't understand you two."

"Well, I don't like her. She obviously doesn't either with the way she's trying to be all up on him." Jungkook glares at you, his teeth biting the rim of the cup harshly as he brings it to his lips to take a sip.

"Whatever, I'm just saying dude. Probably better to be straight up about it than not."

"Kaaaaaaay." Jungkook responds sarcastically, trying to play off how butthurt he was right now. Cause yeah, he did fucking like you. He was just scared to admit it though because of reasons like this - the fact that you possibly didn't like him back killed him. The fact that you could possibly be using him to feel wanted, needed. It made his stomach turn.

He just really liked you, and god, did he want to be the one in your bed tonight. Whether or not that ended up in sex, whatever. He just wanted to be the one to touch you, be on you.

Meanwhile, Kang was attractive as hell and ouwee, were you feeling him tonight. You were, you really were - except, you could literally feel the holes Jungkook was burning through you from across the room. You'd occasionally glance over due to how distracting it was, Jungkook literally have no shame with eyeing you, almost glaring at you, from across the apartment.

"Is it too forward if I ask for your number already?" Kang licks his lips, his teeth lightly piercing his bottom lip as he looks down at you.

"No." You smirk at him, taking his phone to put your number in.

"We should kick it soon. I'd love to hang out with you and get to know you better."

"Yeah, just let me know when." You blush, until you're suddenly pulled out of your daze by a loud 'ahem,' the loudest throat-clearing you have ever heard in your life. You turn to see Jungkook making his way back over to the shots, knowing damn well he's calling you over. "See you around?" Kang winks before he tips his cup to you and gives you a single nod.

"Sure thing, cutiepie." You bite onto your bottom lip, making your way over to Jungkook at the shot station, instantly pinching his arm.

"What the fuck?"

"Nobody was calling you over." Jungkook smirks.

"Shut the fuck up, yes you were. I know that was you clearing your throat like that."

"I'm sorry, does it bother you?" He blinks cutely, tilting his head to the side. "Besides, why come over here when you're too busy with your man?"

"Are you jealous?"

"Why in the hell would I be jealous, Y/N? Do you." The words sting you, even though part of you still wants to believe that Jungkook may actually like you. All you can do is sigh and brush it off, placing your cup down in front of him as he pours himself another shot. "You sure?"

"Just give me the damn shot." You say, making it your 7th.

And the 7th turns into 8, 8 turns into 9, 9 turns into 10. And at 10, you're pretty fucking drunk even as the party is starting to die down by the time it's close to 2am. All 10 were a good combination of shots and mixed drinks.

10 drinks.

10 drinks is what it took for you to lay in Jungkook's bed at the end of the night, hands tangled in his fluffy hair as your makeout session intensifies by the minute - all due to this sexual tension, frustration, whatever the hell it was brewing between you two after all this time. The both of you are drunk as hell, and it's pretty evident with the way you can still taste the alcohol on his tongue, both sloppily touching up on each other, kisses getting wetter, clothes coming off like there's no tomorrow.

"Wait, are you sure?" Jungkook says, about to unhook your bra.

"Jungkook, god, just fuck me." You plead drunkily, the room spinning around you. He continues to unhook your bra, tossing it across the room where your other clothes lay, peppering kisses along your neck before licking up a stripe to meet your lips again. He hooks his fingers across the band of your panties, tugging them down and letting them get lost within his sheets. You take this as leverage to tug his boxer briefs down, already stroking his hardened member the moment you come into contact with it. The sad thing is that you both are so fucking drunk, you can't even appreciate the fact that you both are naked in front of each other for the first time ever.

You can't even come to terms with the fact that you both are about to fuck each other and cross that boundary completely.

But, hell, what do you care? You were drunk. You got a cute guy's number. You're getting dick at the end of the night.

"Oh shit, Y/N." He moans into your mouth as he feels you stroking him. "Need to feel you." He quickly runs his finger down your fold, slipping in two digits to pump them in and out, quickly prepping you for his dick.

"Hnnng--Kook." You bite onto your bottom lip as your eyes shut close momentarily, your head digging deeper into the pillow the more he tries to stretch you out. "Want you inside of me."

"I got you." He says. You almost whine at the loss of contact until you feel his tip poking at your entrance. He slowly continues to slip himself inside of you, Kook letting out a small groan while your mouth was left open, a soundless moan releasing before you hiss and take in all of him. He fills you up so well, so completely. He was so big that you felt full, bloated, with him being inside of you the way he was.

"Ohhhhhgod." You whimper as he starts to steady his pace, the lewd noises of his cock slipping in and out of your wet pussy filling his room - god forbid if Jimin or their other roommate Yoongi heard this right now. It would be nothing short of pornographic.

"You're so wet. Is that all for me?" He says, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head as he begins to aggressively thrust into you.

"Y-yes." You whine.

"Say it again."

"All for you, Kook."

"I fucking thought so." He drunkily responds as one hand grips onto your hips tightly, the other in your hair as he digs his head back into the crook of your neck, his tongue messily licking near your jaw before he nibbles onto your earlobe.

"Hmmmmgggh, Jungkook. Fuck." You moan as you start to work your hips upward into his, your clit rubbing against his pelvis, causing the pleasure to pool quickly within the pit of your stomach. It causes goosebumps to pierce through the surface of your skin, your hands gripping tighter on his hair. "You're-you're gonna make me cum. Faster." You plead. He does just so, hammering into you, the sound of his hips slamming into yours bouncing off of the walls.

"Ahhh—Y/N." He groans.

"Just like that, just like that, just like that!" You repeat, your clit feeling incredibly stimulated by the way it rubs against his skin while he fucks into you. "Oh shit! Jungkook!" You moan loudly, biting his shoulder as you feel yourself trembling hard in his grip, your orgasm taking over your entire body.

"Shit, shit, shit—Y/N, Shiiiit." He says into your neck, followed by more curses and groans as you feel him coat your walls warmly. He stays inside of you until the both of you come back down to normalcy, your breathing becoming more regulated. He slowly slips himself out, plopping next to you on the bed, but doesn't welcome you into his arms.

The night goes on, the both of you sleeping on your own sides of Jungkook's bed, not really saying a word to each other. Because the both of you, although still pretty drunk, are more aware by the time it's over and it's become so clear how fucked up this got.

You were hurt. Completely hurt. Because you didn't expect Jungkook to just fucking ghost you after that night. You wanted to talk about it, maybe come to the conclusion that you two should just distance yourselves from each other to figure this out, even if it would hurt you a lot to do so.

No.

That morning, Jimin and Kass had to take you back to campus because Jungkook had darted out of his room, nowhere to be seen until later that night. The next week or so, there were no texts, no calls. No visiting your dorm, no asking to sleepover.

Nothing.

Just radio silence, white noise, if you will.

The one thing he could come up with was a stupid response to your text when you finally caved and asked what you did wrong mid-week.

Something along the lines of 'what do you want me to say, Y/N? do you want me to force myself to feel a certain way?'

Followed by a 'i'm sorry, fuck. that came out really wrong' even though you thought it came out perfectly fine. You understood loud and clear.

Even though this wasn't really an exclusive thing, or even a 'thing' if we wanna be straight up, you still couldn't help but feel like Jungkook had just dumped your ass with no explanation and you were still waiting for that explanation to come, whether it would or not. And because of this, you started to see Kang, hangout with him more often. He even took you out on a dinner date and you really enjoyed his company. He seemed genuine, caring, supportive - even if a lot of the basketball boys were the complete opposite. He was different, you liked to think.

And so you stand in front of the mirrors in the dance studio, you and Jungkook awkwardly running through the piece with Hoseok watching, confused as to why all of a sudden the two of you have this weird tension going on. It hasn't entirely ruined the couple piece, but it hasn't brought it together, either. The both of you could barely look at each other, barely get into the movements, the emotions behind the motions. Hoseok had to correct a few things, his 'pah pah pah's' echoing in the room constantly with how many times you and Jungkook had to be set straight for your sloppy steps today.

"Okay, I'm not saying it's bad, cause it's not. But can you both please act like you at least like each other or something? What's going on with you two? You aren't normally like this." Hoseok says, coming down to a crouch in front of the mirrors.

"Nothing, we'll do better. Don't worry." You brush off the entire question with your quick response. Jungkook looks at you, his hands on his hips, lightly frowning at how much you're distancing yourself even though he knows its entirely his fault for running from his feelings and not being honest with you.

"Okay, let's do it from the top." The music starts, you getting into the piece without making any eye contact with Jungkook. Even the steps that cause you to be close and near Jungkook, you look anywhere but his eyes, and your touch is light, trying your hardest not to let any feelings pass through the motion. Hoseok is a little more pleased this time around, but it still doesn't sit right with him, so he lets you two take a break while he heads to the other studio to check on Jimin and the rest of the group.

"Hey. Are you okay?"

"Jungkook, you don't get to ask me that." He sighs and runs his hand through his hair, not sure if he should continue on or not.

"Y/N—"

"Save it, and let's just get this over with, okay? I don't wanna be here just as much as you." Your words cut him deep because dear, you have gotten him completely misunderstood and yet, he still can't speak. He still can't talk about his feelings. He still can't save this even though he wants to, even though he loathes seeing you the way you are with Kang.

"I never said—"

"Kay, ready? Let's run this full out and make it a good one so we can call it for today." Hoseok says, clapping his hands to hype you two up somehow. The music starts and you're finally able to get into the steps. The emotions. And god, it's only because you're so hurt by your own bestfriend. You're hurt that he fucked you so good, and then dipped. You're hurt that he couldn't even face you the day after. You're hurt that after all this time, he made it seem like you still didn't matter enough - at least enough for an explanation, for some kind of reasoning, conversation, behind what just went down between the both of you. Between what has been going down between the both of you.

Besides the stupid ass responses he gave you through text.

You get so into your feelings that you don't even realize you're tearing up by the time the piece is over, and Jungkook catches it even though you face away from him as soon as the music cuts out.

"Nice, okay! That was so much better! Let's pick it up next session, yeah? We'll keep cleaning it up. Thanks guys!" Hoseok says. You immediately head towards the wall, grabbing your things to avoid any confrontation from Jungkook, but he grabs your arm as soon as you slip through the door.

"Y/N, wait. Stop."

"Let me go." You yank your arm from his grip.

"Why are you crying?" He stops in front of you, his hands placed on your arms to prevent you from moving any further.

"I'm not." You blatantly lie while you aggressively wipe away the stragglers coming down.

"Really? Just gonna lie like that?"

"Why do you care? You haven't said shit to me all week." You snap back, and Jungkook is taken aback from the tone in your voice. You remove his hands from your arms, and take one last look at him before shaking your head and walking off.

Next mistake? He doesn't come after you.

This was a waste of fucking time. If he truly cared about you, he wouldn't let you hurt like this.

You let out a deep sigh before clutching onto your things and walking back to your dorm. The walk from the gym/fitness center was damn near on the other end of campus compared to your dorm. It would be a good 10 minute walk if you really took your time. A good 10 minutes to ponder on your thoughts.

Yes, you liked Jungkook. You really liked him. Having sex with him solidified those feelings even more. How could you not have feelings for your bestfriend after all the moments you've shared? Was it your fault for assuming that? Was it your fault for walking through that door when it seemed to be completely open for you?

"Sup." Kang comes out of nowhere, pulling you out of your thoughts. He swings his arm around your shoulder, gently pulling you closer to his body. "Just got out of practice?"

"Sure did." You give him a toothless smile. Yes, he was attractive as hell. He always will be. But, even with the time you spent together, the date he took you on, he still couldn't make you feel the way Jungkook has been able to make you feel.

"How was it?"

"Um, it was alright. Nothing new really, just cleaning up the piece before the show. You're going right?"

"Why wouldn't I?" He smiles down at you. "Listen, I don't know if you've heard, but there's another party tonight."

"A party? It's Wednesday." You snort.

"Yeah, I mean, one of the boys on the Lacrosse team is throwing it at his family house because his parents will be gone. Wanna come? I'll pick you up. We don't have to stay for long." You looked at your watch.

"What time is it at?"

"Like 9ish?" Enough time for you to shower and get a quick dinner in your belly. Why the hell not? You were caught up for the week. You didn't have any pressing assignments that were due asap.

"Sure. I'll come."

"Cool. See you later then?" He says, about to part ways with you. You simply give him a nod before walking deeper into Edgehill village. You hoped you wouldn't regret this tonight, and you really hoped he meant it when he said you two didn't have to stay for long. You drag yourself into your room, seeing Kass' door wide open, revealing her packing up her duffle bag.

"Hey, where are you headed during the middle of the week?"

"My two classes got cancelled for tomorrow so me and Jiminie are heading out for a mini getaway for our anniversary." You cross your arms and smile. "He's just gonna catch up on shit when we get back I guess." She laughs.

"That sounds cute. I hope you have loads of fun this weekend, babe."

"What are you gonna do?" Kass and Jimin were obviously aware of everything happening between you and Jungkook being that they had to be the ones to take you home. They never pressed on it though, knowing you both were still pretty upset about how things were playing out. They figured you two would eventually work it out, but until then, they would just sit back and keep their mouths shut. You two were being completely stubborn, but it wasn't their relationship to fix.

"Well, there's this party Kang wants to take me to tonight."

"The Lacrosse party? Messy." She laughs. "Be careful, but also have fun, yeah? I still don’t know if I trust him.”

"Yeah I know."

"Tell me how it goes!"

"I will." You wave her off as you head into your room and shut the door. You figured you would just grab dinner on campus to avoid spending more money than you should; after all, dinner seemed to be pretty bomb tonight. You didn't mind going alone, sometimes Namjoon would join you, asking for you to bring him a plate of food while he does the hard job of sneaking inside the cafeteria through the back door. He usually waits for you at a free table and ends up staying there to have dinner with you, updating you on how life has been, how school has been. Sometimes Hoseok would join you, too. Either way, you didn't mind if no one joined. It was nice to have dinner by yourself from time to time.

You get there on time to be able to grab some food, eat quietly and head out before the cafeteria gets way too busy for your liking. You slip into the shower and throw on a mini skirt, a crop top and a denim jacket, lightly fluffing your hair in the mirror and adding a dab of lip gloss to your lips before Kang is calling you to tell you he's outside your dorm. He's wearing something similar to your color palette, however, you don't make much out of it since this also wasn't really an exclusive thing and you sure as hell weren't going around telling people you and Kang had a thing going on.

To him, you two might be a thing. You've definitely overheard people talking about you two in passing.

To you though, you two definitely weren't. And it was a big fuck you to Jungkook for that.

The house is packed from end to end already, and you're surprised being that it has barely hit 10 minutes since the party was expected to take off. Kang is having to park down the hill, allowing you to hop onto his back for a quick piggy back ride up until you reach the front of the house. There's people already fucked up out on the lawn [you figured they fucked themselves over during their pre-game session cause that shit really happens from time to time], either laying there drunkily or yacking on a free patch of grass.

Gross.

Messy, indeed.

Some people are posted, smoking blunts and offering it to people who were passing by. You and Kang both pass up on it, the idea of not knowing where it has been not sitting right with you. You both head straight to the bottles, taking shots and downing mixed drinks to chase it with so that you can catch up with majority of the crowd. Kang has his arm around your shoulder throughout the night, keeping you close to him, even when he's getting pretty drunk. You realize he's a little more handsy than usual, a little more touchy than you expected him to be. It doesn't bother you for a minute, until he really tries to hike up your skirt while you sit on his lap. You gently shoo his hand away, playing it off while he nuzzles his head against your neck.

"Let's go upstairs, babe." He says, the pet name sounding incredibly off coming from him. Maybe you were drunk, maybe you really just weren't in the mood. It just didn't sound cute, if that even makes sense?

"Okay." You respond stupidly, not wanting to cause a scene at a lacrosse party. You intertwine your fingers with his as he leads the way up the stairs, eyeing the doors as they come into view. He leans forward towards each door, making sure it's clear before opening it. You assume he finally finds one that he's satisfied with when you catch the small smirk that grows at the corner of his lips when he turns the door knob and brings you inside. He pulls you into a deep, rough kiss, one that doesn't even allow you to breathe and process what the fuck is even going on. You can't get into it for the life of you, no matter how hard you try to back away. "Wait, wait."

"What's wrong, baby? Isn't this what you wanted?" He says, kissing down your neck as he drops his jacket to the floor. He gently pushes you onto the bed, his hands traveling up your skirt as you lay there trying to push him off.

"Wait, stop." He doesn't listen. He continues until his hands are literally hooking onto your panties, his finger swiping down your clothed folds. You try fighting him off, but he's way stronger than you. He continues to be aggressive, forcefully trying to shove your panties down until you muster up all the energy you have to finally push him off of you completely. "Stop!"

"What the fuck? I thought you wanted this?"

"Who the hell said that?"

"Are you serious? The way that you're dressed and the way that you look at me. The way you approached me at your friend's party - isn't it all because of this? Because you wanted me? Why are you backing out now?"

"Jesus, get over yourself." You stand, fixing your skirt back down. He furrows his brows at you before his hand grips your arm tightly, shoving you against the wall.

"The fuck, you can't just leave without giving me anything. I brought you here to this party."

"Let me go! You're fucking sick. No one even told you I wanted this to go down. I don't know who you think you are, but you need to get yourself together and stop assuming every pussy is yours to take." He attempts to pin you, his hand holding up both of your hands against the wall while the other tries to pull up your skirt. Someone accidentally opens the door, distracting him and giving you leverage to shove him off and get the fuck away. You dart down the steps, fixing your skirt as you head outside and away from the house.

Fuck, you're far from campus. And Kass and Jimin aren't around.

God.

You groan and run your hand through your hair as you continue to walk down the hill and into the neighborhood to get as far away as possible from that house and that gross ass dude. He was literally just like the rest of the basketball team. You've heard stories and they weren't nice. Looks like he was trained well already, and that shit was sad. What a waste. A beautiful human being with such a nasty, sick mindset. You hoped other girls hadn't fallen for his shit.

Ugh, it sends shivers down your spine. Bad shivers.

"Hello? Y/N?"

"Kook, can you come pick me up please?"

"Yeah, yeah. Of course. Where are you?"

"I'll drop my location. Please hurry." You say, looking back to make sure your coast was clear. You drop the pin into your text thread with Jungkook and sit on the curb until his arrival. It's getting pretty chilly out, and the denim jacket you're wearing fails to provide you with the warmth you're looking for. Sooner or later, Jungkook is pulling up, damn near hopping out before he can shift the gear into park.

"You okay? What happened?" He says, opening the door for you before rushing over to the driver's seat.

"Nothing, can we just go back to your place?" He nods silently, and doesn't press any further after hearing your tone. He watches from his peripherals how you fiddle with your fingers and constantly reach to pull your skirt down even though he doesn't think there's any other way you could pull it down even more. He watches as he parks the car on the curb in front of his apartment how you simply undo your seatbelt and hop out to walk straight into his apartment. He watches as you welcome yourself into his closet and pick out some clothes for you to change in.

You were hurt, and his blood boils thinking about who could've done this and what they could have possibly done.

I mean, no. He knows who did this, but the question was what exactly did he try?

He hears the shower turn on, then quickly get turned off after a good 5 minutes. You had stepped in for a quick body shower, using Jungkook's bodywash just to rid yourself of feeling gross. Feeling gross from being shoulder to shoulder all night long, people breathing down your neck. Kang touching you inappropriately. You slip into Jungkook's clothes, his scent wrapping around you entirely. When you head back into the room, Jungkook has his headset back on as he faces his computer, logging back onto his game of League of Legends. You silently toss your dirty clothes to the side of his room, making a mental note to grab it tomorrow morning and toss it straight into the laundry.

Straight into a fire, perhaps. But you loved those clothes so much, it was unfortunate it'd have such a horrible memory to go with it.

Jungkook slowly removes his headset again and removes himself from his game before he heads over and sits on the edge of his bed. You simply look at him, pursing your lips tightly together to prevent yourself from crying.

But he can tell.

"What happened Y/N?" The question triggers you, making you cry into your hands as he sits there, dumbfounded and worried at how he can fix this and make you feel better. "Look, you don't have to tell me all the details but please tell me how I can help. At least tell me if I need to beat Kang's ass." He says, pulling you into his arms.

"He tried to fucking take advantage of me." You mumble as you remove your face from your hands.

"He did what?" He manages to ask even though he has a hard time swallowing the lump that formed in his throat. He already assumed you had placed him in the same category as Kang even though he never intended to take advantage of you. He really took that night as something special [even drunk], and he never meant to make you feel like you were a used object. Not like Kang.

"He-he," You sniffed. "He tried to force me into having sex with him. He took me upstairs at that lacrosse guy's party or whoever the hell it even was, and he started to aggressively kiss me. And then he tried to force my panties down and touch me there, and—"

"Okay, please don't go on or else I'll literally go over there and tear his ass apart right now. I promise you." He says sternly, his jaw clenching tightly. "God, fuck. I'm so sorry Y/N. I can't apologize on his behalf but fuck, you didn't deserve that." He uses his sweater to wipe your tears.

"I don't even know why I'm crying, this shit isn't even worth it." You groaned. "It's just overwhelming to process, I guess."

"That's okay." He says, letting out a sigh as he brushes his hand through your hair and continues to wipe the stragglers falling from your eyes. "Anything I can get you right now?"

"No, I'm probably just gonna go to bed." He nods. "Thank you for picking me up."

"Of course. You know I'll always be there." He says. You slip yourself into his sheets, watching as he makes his way back to his desk. But fuck, the only thing you needed right now was him. You didn't want this distance anymore, and you just wanted to be comforted in true Jungkook fashion.

"Wait."

"Hm?" He hums as he has a hand placed on the head of his chair while he turns to you.

"Can you just lay with me?"

"Yeah." He says, shutting off his computer before making his way over to you in the dark. You feel him slip in next to you, his arm snaking around your shoulders so he can pull you close and onto his chest. "Better?"

"Yeah." You say, shutting your eyes as you listen to his heart beat.

"Y/N."

"Yeah?"

"I never meant to take advantage of you, or make you feel like I used you that one night." Silence. "It was dumb of me, but I just— I had trouble coming to terms with my feelings. I was scared that you wouldn't feel the same way, but I thought fuck it, at least you would know, right?"

"What are you talking about, Kook?" You ask, close to a whisper.

"I'm saying that I really fucking like you, Y/N. No, that's not right." He curses himself. "I-I uh, I'm in love with you. And I don't know if I messed this up already with the way I acted, god I hope not, but you at least deserve to know that I truly do value you and that you mean alot to me. That night, even though we were pretty plastered, it meant a lot to me. It was more than just sex and I'm sure you felt that too." He waits for your response as his fingers rake through your hair. "Please say something, anything."

"I feel the same way, Jungkook. You're an idiot for running off, but I couldn't even stay mad at you. You just know how to hit my soft spots and I can never say no to it. Can never turn my back on it." He presses a kiss against the top of your head.

"Fuck, I'm really glad to hear that cause I don't know what I would have done besides cry if you rejected me." You playfully hit his chest.

"You're annoying." You jokingly say as you chuckle.

"I'm sorry. I really am. I never wanted to hurt you."

"It's okay." You look up to press your lips against his before laying back down.

"And Kang better be fucking glad you're pressed against my body right now because I'm still looking to beat his ass."

"He's not even worth it." Is the last thing you say before you find yourself drifting into a deep sleep, in the comfort of Jungkook's arms.

"You two feeling okay? Nervous?" You and Jungkook shake your heads. "Good, you guys got this. You've been looking amazing during practice, the audience will love you two, no doubt. Just remember to show emotions through expressions and hit every beat sharply." Hoseok nods in unison with the both of you.

"Got it, thanks Hobi." You smile at him toothlessly. You and Jungkook patiently waited for your turn backstage, the talent show already off to a wild and fun start. So many students came by to showcase their talents - from beatboxing, open mic, freestyling [like Yoongi did], dancing, singing, you name it. It was always a fun time at the talent show, and it was always nice to see people getting love for the shit they loved to do.

"You're up next." Hoseok says. "I'll be in the front row. Kick ass and have fun!" He says as he rushes off towards the opposite end to head back out to his seat in the theater.

"Ready?" Jungkook holds out his hand for you to take.

"I think so." You playfully respond as the backstage crew is rushing out the previous talent and rushing you two in to take your places on stage. The lights pick up as soon as the music starts, Kang's big ass head already in full view for you. He's definitely not smiling, no, he has a look of pure disgust because he simply couldn't get what he wanted from you.

And boy, who's fault was that? Not yours, no sir. It was his fault for thinking he had it like that.

But anyways, you're feeling the music, you're feeling the piece because you're dancing with your bestfriend and there wasn't this grey area anymore. It was easier to get into the motions, to get into the feeling, especially when things felt right between the two of you.

And God, what else is more attractive than Jeon Jungkook hitting his 8 counts so smoothly, with just enough umph to make it pop but make it pop cleanly.

Yo, please. I beg. Send some help. You could literally melt on stage.

The moments where Jungkook has to be close to you, where he has to touch you - you let him, and you touch him with meaning. You don't stray away this time because you have no reason to. The crowd is cheering, lots of 'ou's' and 'aw's' erupting from various places in the theater.

"Pretty lady." Jungkook whispers in your ear as the move requires his hands to be placed on your hips for a quick moment. You hear him slightly singing along to the song as he parts from you, causing you to blush.

Sooner or later, the couple piece is over and the song is transitioning to Jimin's piece, you and Jungkook rushing off the stage so the next group can take their positions. Jimin wanted to test his limits, creating a piece a little different than his usual taste - Chris Brown's Came to Do begins blaring through the theater speakers. You immediately jump into Jungkook's arms once you both reach backstage, the both of you immensely happy and pumped that you got through the piece without messing up one step or beat. It went so smoothly that Hoseok was standing in the front row, clapping and cheering in typical Hoseok fashion. You intertwine your fingers with his, slipping through the side door to catch Jimin's piece on stage. You and Jungkook are cheering them on, always impressed by the shit your friends can come up with. You both loved dancing, but you couldn't even imagine coming up with your own pieces to teach people.

That night after the show, everyone heads to a nearby restaurant for dinner with everyone. You all take up almost an entire section of the restaurant, splitting two long tables to accommodate the entire group with doubled the waitresses to take your orders. You settle for water, splitting an abnormally huge and filled deep dish pizza with Jimin, Kass and Jungkook. It was a good day, a good night, everyone at the table happily eating and chatting it up over dinner. You turn down any drinks because to be honest, drinks lowkey make you queasy just from the thought of how much you drank at Jungkook's apartment, plus the added bonus of that party Kang took you to. Jungkook declines as well, knowing he has to drive you back safely.

Jimin and Kass head back to the apartment because Yoongi says he's gonna hang out with Joon And Hoseok for a bit, and they warn you and Jungkook that things may get loud so the both of you decide to really stick to the plan of bringing you back to the dorm. Jungkook does his usual routine of dropping you off first before finding parking around campus. You hop in the shower and come out in Jungkook's oversized crewneck that he left in your closet, forgoing the shorts because you certainly thing that at this point, he'd love to see you in his sweater and panties.

And he does. He smiles as he pulls you close, his hands traveling up your sweater, only to find out that you literally don't have shit on besides some cute little boyshorts. He feels himself hardening in his pants quick because he's incredibly attracted to you and everything about you, always has been, always will be.

"You did amazing tonight." He says, gently kissing your forehead.

"You did too, partner." He gives you a slightly shocked look.

"Is that all I am to you? Your dance partner?"

"Yeah, why? Were you expecting more?" You joke as you smile up at him.

"Yeah, I was."

"Oh?" He gently swoops you up into his arms, your legs wrapped tightly around his torso as he sits you on the bed, his hands resting on your thighs while you continued to hold him around the neck. "Care to tell me what you were expecting?"

"Well, you know, my best friend—" He presses a kiss against your lips, thumbs gently rubbing circles against your hips. "My girlfriend."

"Hm, say that again?" Your fingers are gently playing with the ends of his hair, your lips barely grazing his.

"My girlfriend." He says closed to a whisper, kissing you softly. The kiss deepens quick, Jungkook's tongue lining your bottom lip as his way of asking for permission to take it further. You gladly take it and let him in, your tongues instantly fighting for dominance. Your fingers travel up his hair, tugging ever so slightly just to let him know you want more. That you need more.

And he gets that.

His fingers hook onto the band of your boyshorts, tugging them down and letting them fall down your legs and onto the floor. He breaks the kiss momentarily, his brown, puppy dog eyes looking straight into yours.

"Hey." He says, brushing the hair out of your face.

"Hm?"

"I know I said the last time was special, and it was. It is." He corrects himself. "But, I wanna do right by you this time around. So, is it okay if I keep going? Are you comfortable?" He asks properly, since the two of you are both sober and perfectly coherent, aware of your surroundings and the fact that you'll be seeing each other fully naked in a few minutes.

"Yes." You respond. "Yes, I want you to keep going. I want you. This." He simply nods, bringing his lips back onto yours. His hands climb up your sweater and gently gives your breasts a good squeeze, earning a small moan from the both of you. His other hand begins to travel down to your pussy, two long fingers slowly probing your entrance and causing your breathing to hitch.

"You okay?" He asks lowly. You nod, biting onto your bottom lip as you tilt your head back and rest on your hands, no longer able to keep up with the kiss due to all the pleasure starting to pile up deep in your core. Jungkook starts of slow, his head now buried into the crook of your neck as he works his digits upward, tickling at the right spot.

"Ohhhh, Kook." You mewl as his tongue swipes across the surface of your neck, biting gently beneath your jaw. He begins to pick up the pace, the sounds of him finger fucking you filling up the room entirely.

"Fuck, you're so wet baby." He groans into your neck.

"I'm gonna cum." You whine, teeth almost piercing through your bottom lip in between your whimpers.

"Need to taste you." He removes his fingers and sinks down in between your thighs, gripping onto them and pulling you just a teensy bit more off the edge of the bed so he can get a good angle. The sight of his eyes looking up at you in between your legs is to die for, and the sight alone is enough to make you cum. But, you hold on, you ride out for a little longer - feeling Jungkook's tongue swipe in and out of your folds before he's sucking endlessly on your clit.

"Ahhh, fuck, wait, Jungkook!" He slightly smiles while eating you out, signaling that he's not stopping even if you beg him to. "Hnnng—shit!" You moan loudly as you feel yourself toppling over the edge, your body shaking in Jungkook's grip. You twitch every time he continues to suck gently on your sensitive nub, letting you ride out the rest of your high. He comes back up to your lips, the taste of your own cum lingering on it as you kiss him deeply.

"You taste so good." He says, back to twirling your nipples in between his fingers.

"Wanna feel you." You fiddle with his jeans, undoing his belt and sliding the rest down as much as you could. Jungkook gets out of his shirt and tosses it aside before helping get the sweater above your head. His eyes glow at the sight of your bare body in front of him, wanting to do nothing but please you and please you well.

"God, you're so perfect." He places kisses down your collarbone, to the surface of your breasts before quickly swirling his tongue around your perked buds. You moan as you tug down onto his boxer briefs, immediately stroking his hardened member while he tended to you. Jungkook was a fucking beauty himself - his soft hair, his perfectly toned body, his long 'thick in all the right places' dick.

"Please." You plead. "I want you inside of me." You whimper, causing Jungkook's breathing to hitch when you slightly tighten your grip at the base of his shaft. He gently pushes your hand aside to take over, lining himself up at your entrance. He inserts the tip, watching your eyes roll to the back of the head as he slowly sinks into you.

"Mmmmmgod." He moans. "So tight for me, baby. So fucking wet and tight." He repeats, close to a growl. Your moaning begins to pick up, matching the pace of his thrusting. You're still on the edge of the bed, Jungkook keeping you steady by gripping your thighs tightly. He marvels at the sight of your titties bouncing up and down with every thrust, hissing and shutting his eyes momentarily to keep himself grounded and to prevent himself from coming too quickly. Cause god, he can literally blow any second now.

"Jungggggkooook, yessssss!" You moan loudly, whining even at this point with how good he feels fucking into you at such a fast pace. You're feeling slightly sore already from him hammering into you, but nonetheless, it builds more pleasure for you and you want nothing but to reach your high again. "I-I'm coming!" Jungkook moans in unison with you when he feels your walls pulsating against his cock.

"Such a good girl for me." He says, slowing his pace. The creamy sounds of Jungkook's cock slipping inside and out is music to the both of your ears. He finally gains the courage to remove himself, sitting next to your spot on the edge of the bed and pulling you onto his lap. You swing a leg over, your hands resting on the nape of his neck while you sink yourself lower onto his length. Your mouth opens to let out a moan, but the best you can do is let out a hiss. It feels too fucking good that you can't even process it thoroughly. Jungkook pushes your lips down onto his by grabbing your neck, his other hand guiding the movement of your hips as you roll into him.

"Mmmggg—Jungkook." You whimper in between kisses. "You feel so fucking good, god. You're gonna make me cum again."

"Yeah, cum for me. Cum all over me. It's yours." He grunts, his hands guiding you to work him faster. Your movements are getting sloppier, and you feel your wetness starting to coat his pelvis. He doesn't give a fuck though, and neither do you. This shit feels too good for you to worry about the mess you're making on him.

"Cum with me please." He moans at the sound of you whispering into his ear.

"Faster, baby." He says, almost making you cry at how awfully close you are to unraveling. You tug onto his hair, your head buried deep into his neck as you try and suck onto the surface, trying to find an outlet, some kind of release, until you let go. You suck harshly as you coat his cock with your cum, leaving a purple mark right at the base of his neck. You continue to ride out your high, rolling your hips sloppily as Jungkook finally lets himself go, his moan bouncing off of your walls as his seed fills you up warmly.

You stay in your position, slowly raising your head to cup his cheeks and kiss him deeply once more.

"Fuck, I love you." He says slightly pulling away.

"I love you too." You giggle.

"Didn't actually need any drinks to do this now, did we?" Jungkook jokes, softly pinching your hip.

"Shut up."

"Damn, you both couldn't even at least try to be quiet?!" Jimin yells from outside the door.

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natalie-k-pan · 3 years

Text

10 Ways the Loki show Disappointed Me

part two

6) The trailer was misleading advertising. Marvel’s done it in the past with little to no backlash:

Iron Man 3 presenting the Mandarin as the ultimate foe for Tony to defeat, only to find out he’s a charlatan in a minor role.

Falcon and Winter Soldier was presented as a light-hearted buddy adventure, only to tackle darker themes about nationalism and racism. (Not saying that those themes were bad, just that the TFAWS’s trailer was not truthful to the story).

In the case of Loki, the trailer presented the plot as Loki making time-traveling shenanigans and being captured for breaking the timeline. They included the D.B Cooper clip, and the scenes of Loki in New York and as king in Asgard. These clips never show up in season 1. The D.B Cooper scene was a off-the-cuff moment, and the highly-anticipated (imo) President Loki was around for five minutes.

The trailer shows the storyline being about Loki breaking the timeline, with Mobius saying in a voiceover, “You picked up the tesseract, breaking reality. I want you to help us fix it.”

Marvel’s publicity team knew what story we would want to see from the character. And that’s not what we got: it was a mix of Loki tagging along with Sylvie to take down the Timekeepers, and detective-esque scenes of trying to overthrow the TimeKeepers.

It was never about Loki having an adventure, breaking the timeline, and having to fix it.

There’s a difference between having scenes that don’t make it into the final product, between not revealing enough of the story to spoil plot twists...and deliberately choosing certain scenes and quotes to present a false version of the story.

I guess Marvel was worried that no one would watch it if they showed us the real product.

7) Loki’s powers were wildly inconsistent, especially compared to what we’ve seen before.

In the past, we’ve seen Loki do illusions, duplication casting and in Thor 2, some very light telekinesis. After hearing of his mother’s death, he throws several pieces of furniture in into the cell walls with his mind. This is after losing the person who probably mattered most to him at the time, and feeling responsible for her death--it’s a powerful move showing his magical capabilities.

In the show, in Episode 3 we see him pull a Roomba towards himself in order to use it as a shield during a fight--pretty in-line with what we saw in the Dark World.

One episode later, an entire flipping tower is falling towards them, and he reverses it with his mind alone.

It was in the face of death, you say. Of course he was going to pull some cool new magical move.

Sure. In the face of death, I could see him jumping from throwing chairs to something heavier, like maybe a crumbling wall or a fruit stand.

BUT A TOWER?

WHY?

HOW??

He’s never done anything on that scale magically. In episode 2, he got tossed around by a (human) Alabama man. Why would he not use that move to bring the roof crumbling down if he was fighting for his life then?

So he’s got massive telepathic power when a building is falling but can’t use it in a fight against regular people.... okay?

Honestly, due to the fact that they’ve weakened him so much, and when Loki said, “I think we’re stronger than we realize”, I’m betting Season 2 will include Loki discovering the extent of his magical powers.

I don’t like this idea because again, it contradicts the previous canon. In Thor 1, Hogun literally calls Loki a “master of magic”. He went toe-to-toe with Thor and the Avengers and now can’t beat regular humans. A thousand+ year old being unaware of his own untapped potential doesn’t seem correct (yeah, they did that with Thor in Ragnarok, I know).

This Loki’s power levels jump up and down according to the plot, trying to make us believe that due to his spoiled past, Loki needs to apply himself to learn more about his powers.

8) Loki was out of character.

His lying and scheming was way too obvious. I was incredibly confused the first couple of episodes because it would be strange how he would be a pathetic buffoon one minute and yet The only moment I was sold on his competence as a liar was episode 2 at the renaissance fair where he attempts to fool the TVA. He was actually competent for once, but he gets caught, and goes into apologizing and sucking up 30 seconds later.

He gets drunk when they’re on the mission on Lamentis. This didn’t make sense--when he was trying to conquer Earth, he had the opportunity to also goof off and he’s always been shown to take things seriously, with the exception of Ragnarok.

The “I’m a narcissist” scene. While Loki is the type to crave attention--in Avengers, Tony calls him a diva who wants his name plastered to the skies--it comes from a place of feeling overshadowed, never able to match his brother Thor. Which we can see has some basis:

In Thor 1, his adopted parents raised him to hate his race,

lied to him about it,

and when he was hanging over an wormhole, his father finally rejected him.

In Avengers, Thor tells him in that his slights are “imagined”.

Thor 2, his adopted father told him his “birthright was to die”.

While it doesn’t excuse his actions in Thor and Avengers, it’s pretty clear that his family, particularly his father, have let him down.

So to make him experience character development and understand why he does what he does...the writers took him back to Asgard, and had Sif beat him up repeatedly until he admits he does terrible things because he’s a...narcissist.

It was pretty hard to watch that scene, especially because I related to Loki as someone who felt overshadowed and overlooked. He tried too hard to be what his family wanted, to show that he was “the worthy son”.

But here in the fantastic year of 2021, this show decided to throw away all of that emotional nuance away.

9) The costumes were bad.

The brown variant jacket with its ugly orange block letters.

The guard suit on Lamentis looked like a cross between a purple sweater and a plague doctor mask. honestly makes me shuder to see it

Loki’s green-and-gold costumes are some of the most distinct, instantly recognizable outfits of the MCU. And he almost immediately loses it in the first episode. It ends being given to Sylvie, (like most of Loki’s better characteristics) and he stays in a detective skinny-tie suit instead. The costume is okay, but it lacks the flair and style he’s had previously, and he never gains it back.

10) The season finale really did showcase this show in the best way-- ig hype followed by disappointment.

For five episodes, we rushed towards the ultimate villain, the mastermind behind it all. Episode 6 was like...being handed a pack of bubble wrap, swinging your hand hard, expecting that satisfying pop! only to have it slowly putter out with a sad little sound.

First, Kang looked like he got his costume from Party City. The purple cape isn’t doing him any favors. Then, the man sat there and monologued for forty minutes, making jokes, telling us how he set the plot up, and how the multiverse worked.

I know Marvel gets flack for there always being an CGI climactic action scene, but…they had 6 episodes leading up to the Big Bad, and for it to end that anticlimactically with a man in a Party City purple cape was a letdown. The finale had no menace, no teeth. In the words of Mobius, it was just…talkie-talkie.

All in all, this show really suffered from ignoring Loki’s past, where he would realistically be emotionally-wise, and a lack of focus on its title character’s development. Settings and costumes being better/unique would be also be nice, especially given its popularity. At the end of the day, I don’t see the character I empathized so strongly with in this show.

#loki disney+#loki negativity #loki critical #loki #loki review #wish it was better

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crackheadgeminibby · 3 years

Text

better for you

pairing: chris evans x female!black!reader

warnings: age gap, angst, language

word count: 2.7k

a/n: this lowkey sucks and is very poorly edited, i’m sorry but on the plus side, i surpassed 400 followers yesterday!! so thank you to those 400+ people🤍🤍

i do not consent to my work being copied in any way, shape of form or reposted on any other platform

not my picture

You didn’t consider yourself a jealous person. Much less a jealous girlfriend. Not at all. Never had and you thought you never would.

You had practically raised yourself as your parents had always been more preoccupied with their jobs. You loved your parents, you really did, but when your high school counselor told you that you could graduate high school a year and a half early, you took the opportunity to start college immediately and move out of your parents’ house. This drastic change when you were so young made you become extremely independent. Which is why your relationship with Chris worked almost perfectly. You valued your independence, as he did his, and you respected his independence, as he did yours.

As a corporate lawyer that had multiple firms around the country, you traveled a lot, needing to meet with clients. Chris, as an actor, also traveled a lot.

You both trusted the other without a doubt at the beginning of the relationship despite that Chris was, at first, a little wary of being with someone as young as you. As a 24-year-old, he thought that you should be living your life, partying, sleeping with whomever you wanted without being tied down, but you had explained to him that despite your age, those were not the things that you wanted.

You and Chris were truly made for each other, knowing the other more than they knew themselves. You would even dare to call yourselves soulmates.

Which is why you could not fathom why you were in your current situation.

You had left early in the day for California, where you were overseeing the opening and start-up of your newest firm. Chris, on the other hand, had left 3 days ago to go on some trip his publicist had arranged for him. You hadn’t bothered asking what it was about, assuming that it was about ASP. Plus, you didn’t mind it: he had to do what he had to do.

But now, you couldn’t believe yourself.

You were sitting on your hotel bed, in a white and fluffy robe, fresh out of the shower. Your computer was open in front of you, the TV was blaring the news and you had your phone in your hand. It was almost 11pm but you had been doing this for at least 3 hours. All three electronics were talking about the same thing: Are Chris Evans and Lily James dating??

It was a bit your fault that people gave themselves the right to assume things like that, to be honest, since you had been the one to pressure Chris about keeping your relationship secret. You knew that people would talk and judge you for your 15-year age gap. You, personally, didn’t care and neither did Chris but his career was dependent on his public image and you didn’t want to hold him back, especially not at a pivotal moment in his life like right now.

So, you had agreed on telling your families and your very close friends and Chris had convinced you to let him tell his publicist, Megan. God, she fucking hated you. When Chris arranged for you guys to meet, she had called you “a walking, breathing PR disaster”. You had laughed it off calling her funny, but you knew that she was 100% serious. You really shouldn’t have been surprised that she would do something so fucked up at some point.

A bunch of different news outlets were pumping out new stories every 30 minutes, each article a little more detailed than the previous. It was all over the Internet and it seemed to be the only thing that people cared about today.

Considering the 8-hour difference between London and San Francisco, you hadn’t been able to talk to Chris at all since you got to your hotel. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to talk to him. He hadn’t even tried to talk to you. Why was he avoiding you and acting like he had something to hide?

You’re reading the latest Daily Mail article on your computer about how Chris and Lily apparently got to his hotel in the same car when you hear your phone ring on the nightstand. You don’t even bother looking at the caller ID as you reach for your phone, eyes still glued to your computer and answer,

“Hello?”

You hear a loud exhale on the other end of the phone before you hear Chris’ tired voice, “Baby, hi.”

You tense up slightly before asking, trying to seem nonchalant, “What’s up?”

“Have you watched the news today?”

You bite your lip, thinking, before replying, lying through your teeth, “No, why? What’s going on?”

Chris sighs again before answering, “Nothing, it’s fine. How was your day?”

You roll your eyes. Was he seriously not going to say anything?

“Fine, but it’s really late and I have to get up early tomorrow so good night.”

You hang up the phone before Chris can answer anything. You throw the phone at the end of your bed, frustrated beyond belief.

You continue to read the Daily Mail article as you hear a message coming in. You don’t bother to get up to pick up your phone as you see the message appear on your computer screen a couple of seconds later.

chris💙, 11:01pm:

Good night baby girl. Good luck tomorrow🤍

You groan loudly at his message. Even when he had pissed you the fuck off, his words still brought butterflies to your stomach.

You disregard his message and finish reading the article. You roll your eyes as you close your computer and get up to put it on the hotel desk. As you’re walking back to bed, you take your phone from the end of the bed and put it on its charger, ready to go to bed.

You’re not sure how you manage to fall asleep that night as your mind swirls with unending thoughts.

When your alarm wakes you up at 6am the next day, you feel groggy, having slept very badly last night. Which was to be expected.

You get up and change while eating a protein bar before heading to the hotel gym: you needed to do something to get your energy up. Once you finish your workout, you head back to your room to get ready for the day.

When you get out of the shower, you open your computer and, having left the Daily Mail website open last night, you see a new article posted 2 minutes ago: Chris Evans and Lily James seen on a date in a London park.You groan loudly, closing your computer as you hear that your cell phone is receiving multiple texts.

You reach for your phone on the hotel desk and your eyes widen as you see your lock screen.

5 missed calls

12 messages

You open your Phone app seeing one call from Chris, two from your best friend, one from your brother and one from your mom.

You open the Messages app as a new message from your brother comes in.

will, 7:31am:

When did you break up with your boyfriend? And why didn’t you tell me?

you, 7:32am:

i didn’t

yet

will, 7:32am:

You know i’m gonna fucking murder him right?

You smile fondly at your brother’s concern, chuckling softly as you type your reply.

you, 7:33am:

as you should(:

You open the rest of your messages, mostly asking the same thing. You didn’t feel like talking about it anymore so, you ignore them until you get to your conversation with Chris.

chris💙, 5:22am:

Hey, I’m sure you’ve seen the articles by now.

I’m so sorry

Call me when you can, please. I really need to talk to you.

You bite your lip as you think about what to answer. You didn’t have the energy to deal with this right before your firm’s opening. Shaking your head, you lock your phone, putting it back on the desk, getting dressed.

As you get back to your hotel room, exhausted from your day, you hear your phone signal an incoming text for the millionth time today.

You sigh loudly: you knew it was Chris texting you again. You had been ignoring his texts all day because you didn’t want to get in a bad mood while you were opening the firm.

You put your purse and work bag on the floor, unlocking your phone. You open the conversation with Chris, scrolling through his messages.

chris💙, 6:15pm:

I’m leaving a bit earlier than I planned, I should be home tomorrow morning.

Are you back in Boston or are you gonna stay in LA?

You sigh, feeling guilty that you had been ignoring his texts all day. You start typing a reply, your finger hovering over the send button for a couple of seconds before clicking on it.

you, 6:17pm:

i’m still in san francisco i’m leaving tomorrow morning

As soon as your message goes through, you see the three dots pop up in the conversation.

chris💙, 6:17pm:

Oh my God, hi. Are you okay?

Can I call you?

You chew on your bottom lip: you really didn’t think he was going to answer that fast.

you, 6:18pm:

i’m about to take a shower then i’m gonna go to bed i’m really tired sorry

chris💙, 6:18pm:

Okay, I’m sorry

Good night

You groan loudly. You really didn’t know why you felt so guilty: he was the one running around with another woman. As you think about this, you realize that you didn’t really know who she was.

You shake your head at yourself as you pull up Google on your phone and look for her. You don’t even realize it but, 20 minutes later, you were now at the oldest post on her Instagram.

You curse at yourself, dropping your phone on your bed, and head to the shower.

You stay under the hot stream of the shower for at least an hour before you finally get out, toweling off.

You order some room service for dinner, settling down in front of a random show playing on the TV. After pushing your food around for half an hour, you sigh loudly, put the tray on the hotel desk and get under the covers before finally falling asleep.

You had not slept very well so you had been in a rush to leave the hotel and catch your flight to LAX in the morning. You were exhausted and hungry when you got to your shared LA home with Chris but there was no food in sight, considering that neither of you had been here in a couple of months.

As it was not too late in the day, you decide to take a nap and order some food after.

When you wake up a few hours later, the sun has already completely set and the house is pitch black. You rub the sleep out of your eyes and take your phone before heading to the living room to order some food.

As you enter the kitchen and are about to head to the living room, you hear a deep voice, “Hey, you’re up.”

Taken by surprise, you throw your phone in the direction of the sound and scream, “Holy shit!”

“Ow… What the fuck?”

You’re breathing heavily, clutching your chest as you turn on the kitchen lights, brightness illuminating the area as you see Chris holding the side of his head.

“Jesus Christ, Chris! You almost gave me a fucking heart attack!”

Chris rubs at his head as he looks towards you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Your heartbeat starts to slow down as you roll your eyes.

“What are you even doing here?”

Chris frowns and replies, “Well, you never told me where you were going to be but when I got back to Boston and you weren’t there, I assumed you were coming here.”

You groan silently, crossing your arms over your chest and raising your eyebrows,

“So, London seemed to be very fun.”

Chris shakes his head, looking up at the ceiling, before making eye contact with you, “I didn’t know that’s what the trip was about.”

You chuckle humorlessly, “Really, Chris? Since when do you go on trips, not knowing what they’re about?”

Chris exhales loudly, taking a couple of steps towards you, “I promise that I didn’t know. Megan planned everything and just sent me the info.”

You snort loudly, rolling your eyes. Chris frowns before asking, “What?”

“Megan, Chris? Really? She fucking hates me, of course she would pull a stunt like this.”

Chris frowns again, shaking his head, “What are you talking about? She doesn’t hate you.”

You laugh, this time, actually finding this funny, “Chris, she literally called me a walking disaster.”

Chris struggles to find an answer to that: he knew that Megan used this exact kind of formulation so he couldn’t deny it.

“And you know what? It’s fine. Maybe you really should be dating her instead of me.”

Chris’ face contorts in a mix of hurt and anger, “Why the fuck would you say something like that?”

“Because it’s true, Chris. She’s better for you. She’s actually your age, not a fucking child compared to you. She can give you the things you want from life that I can’t. Maybe it’s better that way.”

“What way?”

You shrug your shoulders, looking at your feet, mumbling, “If we weren’t together.”

Chris scoffs, “You literally have to be kidding me.”

Chris takes large steps, making his way towards you and takes your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him.

“Y/N, I’ve told you before and I will tell you again. I do not give a shit about your age. And I thought you didn’t either. So, what’s the problem here?”

You bite your bottom lip nervously, “Because what if what Megan said is true? I mean… If people find out that we’re dating, the shit talking would never stop. I can’t do that to you.”

Chris sighs, enveloping you in a hug.

“Baby, it doesn’t matter. None of it matters if we’re not together.”

He lets you go, stroking your cheek, “You’re it for me. There is no one better for me than you. And no one is going to take that away from us. Not you. Not Megan. And certainly not my fans. If they love me as much as they say they do, then they’ll respect you.”

You chuckle slightly, “Chris, I don’t know what kind of fantasy you live in, but in real life, that’s not how things go.”

“Okay, but who cares? There’s two people in this relationship, you and me. Not you, me, Megan and my fans.”

You scoff, mumbling, “Yeah, tell Megan that.”

“I will. The same goes for her. I didn’t know she actually meant those things about you and I’ll tell her that she needs to knock that shit off.”

You sigh, nodding slightly, “Okay.”

“And, baby, I’m sorry.”

You furrow your brows, trying to understand, “I never should have agreed to Megan’s little plan thing. But, most importantly, I should have told you as soon as I knew. It’s just that I kinda owed Lily a favor and she needed this. But it doesn’t erase the fact that I should have been honest with you and I’m sorry I wasn’t.”

You sigh, “I know, it’s okay. I knew this kind of thing could happen when I decided to be with you, and I overreacted a bit so I’m sorry too. I knew it wasn’t true and I should have asked you about it instead of ignoring you. I just… couldn’t let go of the fact that maybe you should be with her.”

Chris shakes his head, “I shouldn’t. And I never will be.”

Chris laughs a bit before continuing, “Sorry, but you’ll have to try harder to get rid of me.”

You laugh loudly, throwing your head back. Looking back at Chris, you smile warmly before hugging him,

“I love you, Chris. Like, a lot.”

Chris chuckles, squeezing you tighter, “I love you too.”

#chris evans #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x woc #chris evans fanfictions #chris evans fanfics

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writingquestionsanswered · 4 years

Text

Tattoo Shop AU - a quick, practical guide for writers

Guest Post by lebanon-hangover

lebanon-hangover said: this is based on my personal experience with the industry only, so depending on the era and country you are portraying, it may not be 100% accurate for your setting.

Hygiene

It may not be obvious at first glance, but most tattooists are clean freaks. We work with human blood every day, and we get clients from all ages, ethnic and social economic backgrounds, with all sorts of medical conditions.

We usually mop frequently, bleach the sinks, wipe down everything, and use cling film or bags to wrap everything. I mean fucking everything. We also scrub in, and sanitise the area on the person we work on.

Needles are collected in a sharps bin, and handled very carefully. Medical waste goes in yellow bags, and both are collected by a professional service.

Used ink caps may look full, but the ink gets diluted by blood. Like you dip the inky needle into the person, but you also dip the person’s blood into your ink. These are medical waste too.

Cleaning up must be done promptly after the session. Bin everything disposable, put things through the ultrasonic and the autoclave, and sanitise the area. We may take machines apart, but more for maintenance than cleaning, sometimes we swap parts in them too.

We have two sinks, one for hand washing, one for cleaning.

All inks and needles have use by dates.

The internal dynamics of a studio

Depending on the country, some tattoo shops tend to have ties to biker gangs, and some of those internal dynamics and unwritten rules are often present.

There’s a pecking order and it’s dead serious. Basically the longer you’ve been in a shop, the higher ‘rank’ you are, you get the better positioned stations, first pick of walk-ins, etc (Unless the client is asking for someone by name). Regardless of your actual experience in the industry, like if you move into your old apprentice’s shop, they are still senior to you. If the owner or their partner is an artist, obviously they are on top of the chain by default.

We are self employed, but we have a boss. You are only making money if you are working, but you still have set work hours.

We get paid by the clients, and we pay the studio a cut. In return, there are some items provided by them, and some we buy for ourselves. Usually the chairs, tattoo beds, gloves, cleaning products, clip cord covers, masks, aprons, ink caps, vaseline, green soap, and some basic ink is provided by the shop. We buy our own machines, arm rests, stations, pedals, power supplies, clipcords, tips and grips, needles, special colours, stencil fluid…these are a personal preference, and often depend on the artists’ style.

We totally ask to try out each other’s equipment sometimes, or ask for a certain type of needle if we ran out.

The receptionist is usually just one of us, maybe a piercer, but it also can be a hired person in top studios.

The apprentice in the traditional system is often mistreated, and they have to pay for their education, have to be there multiple days a week and don’t make any money. It’s kind of like a tear them down, build them back up again thing to see if they are really serious about the job. Times are slowly changing, but 99% of them will always need a second job. Most of them are working as bar staff.

When you open a new studio, you must visit all the existing local ones and introduce yourself, otherwise you may get a brick through the window. Otherwise there’s not much beef among individual artists, they are often friends, go to conventions together and party after, etc.

The Artists

Tattooing is a fairly physical job, stretching skin is very important. We have to also keep our clients safely still, so we often use positions to pin them down a bit. Sometimes you hit a reflex point on the foot or under a knee, and you don’t want to get kicked. Sometimes you have to pull away super fast, cos they are sneezing, yawning or giggling.

Most tattooists drink a lot of coffee, tea or energy drinks.

Some people are all rounders, some have specific styles, but we recognise each other’s art styles. Sometimes we delegate work to each other, if we think our coworkers style fits the concept better. For example if there’s a person who does script well, we give them those projects.

We don’t like when people come in with designs from other artists. Art theft is frowned upon, and we work best with our own drawings.

Most apprentices practice on their own legs, and sometimes we tattoo each other when it’s quiet. Most people have cover ups, or bad pieces from their early days. The artists’ own tattoos sometimes are in a different style than what they do, but we like to collect ink from friends or colleagues we admire.

In the first 1-2 years one is an apprentice, then junior artist. At 5-8 years of tattooing, you have earned your stripes and are considered an experienced artist.

Conventions are really fun, but can be stressful. You can make good money working at one, and sometimes get awarded for it too. We can also spend a lot at a convention.

Sometimes we poke our fingers by accident, and it’s a scary thing. Good case scenario is just some random dots on your fingers. Let’s not go into the bad case scenario.

We do guest spots sometimes, just to meet new clients, and change it up a bit.

We spend a lot of time drawing up things, and designs are meant to fall on specific muscles, stretch with the skin a certain way, so they are tailored to the body proportions of the client. A good tattoo is also an optical illusion, complimenting the body shape.

Social media presence is like a second job, you need good photos, and you need to market yourself.

Tattoo ink does not wash out, so some stains are inevitable when pouring it out. Those ink bottles get stuck so easily, and we wrestle them a lot. We try to avoid it, but wearing all dark colours is a thing for a reason.

The Clients

Tattooists need to have a good ‘bedside manners’ too. We get nervous or self conscious people, and we are told personal things during long sessions. For example scar coverups and memorial pieces can be very emotional.

We have pretty good poker faces and first aid trainings. People can faint, get shaky, throw up, some have seizures, have b.o., get sweaty, etc the same way as at a blood donation event? It’s no big deal really. We sit them down, give them some water and some sugar, and re-book them if necessary. Most artists keep some wet wipes, mouth wash, deodorant, sweets, maybe even some clean clothes at work, just in case.

If someone comes in with a wild idea for a jobstopper, we would sit down and have a long talk. If they haven’t got many tattoos, we usually try to stir them towards more safe choices, offering them creative ideas. It’s like those jedi mind tricks sometimes.

If someone is undecided, we show them our own hand drawn flash sheets. Once its gone, its gone tho, we don’t use the designs twice.

Pinterest is full of photoshopped fake tattoos, some that won’t even work as real ink. Many people also touch up their work digitally on photos, so some clients have really unrealistic expectations.

We can totally tell if someone is intoxicated or hangover. It thins the blood, and they bleed out the ink, and it’s super annoying. if it’s bad, they will be sent home and rebooked.

Some folks are self conscious about body hair, their size, stretch marks and scars. Chances are, we have seen similar, and we aren’t bothered by it, because it’s work. Surgery scars, scars from accidents, self harm scars, burns, we see it all the time. We shave some really hairy dudes all the time girl, your legs are fine. Seriously. If something makes tattooing you dangerous we will tell you.

Fit, muscular people are harder to tattoo because they are really firm. Its a workout for us.

Everyone gets midnight messages about the aftercare from nervous clients, and drunken booty calls about getting inked right at this second. We have copy paste replies…

We get creeps sometimes. Stalking, weird conversations, tmi info dumps etc.

Other things to include (for fun, or for plot reasons)

We sometimes have those “oh fuck” moments. We all do, but mistakes can be fixed, and we play it cool.

Tattooing takes time. Usually 30 minutes to multiple sessions though years and years.

Healing tattoos takes about 2-4ish weeks, and your characters shouldn’t go roll around in dirt, sunbathe, swim, pick at the scabs. Nasty infections, and messed up tattoos would be the results.

If you have a strong immune system, and you get a lot of work done in one sitting, you may get a brief bit of a temperature. It’s normal, and will go away.

Its a lot easier to get seriously drunk after getting a tattoo. Be careful.

We sometimes draw on each other for practice with our marker pens.

Tattoos are inside the skin, not on top of it. Imagine a low opacity, skin toned layer over the ink, adding to the healed tattoos’ colour. Please stop making your characters skin fully transparent.

Heavy blackwork and palms are done in multiple sessions.

You can’t cover up moles, because if they develop skin cancer, the dermatologist can’t see the signs.

There’s a stereotype about piercers having blacked out sleeves.

Stencil fluid looks just like cum.

You get that annoying itch on your face when you scrubbed in, put on gloves and finally ready to go.

Some artists have a strong preference for coil or rotary machines, and they bicker about it a lot. Coils are louder, more punchy, and more traditional, perfect for lineart. They can be customised, and they last forever. They are also called glorified doorbells by people who prefer rotaries. Rotary machines are smoother, lighter, and often use needles that are pulled back into the cartridges for safety. They are better for shading and delicate line work. Older tattooists often say they are dildo or butt plug shaped, overly delicate and are for “soft millennials” only.

Every artist owns like 5 to 20 machines, and they have specific machine builders they are loyal to.

The “which cable is broken and cutting out” guessing game. Clip cords and pedal cables get worn out easily, and that results in your machine running really jerky.

Walk-in always show up 10 minutes before closing.

We often look quite silly at work. Sleeves rolled up, folks use all sorts of plastic ppe, headlamps, and we tie up our hair. Add couple of purple smears from carbon paper, and we aren’t scary at all.

#writing guide #writing tips #writing advice #writer's guide #writeblr #writing community #writing #writing help #submission

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theringers · 3 years

Note

V-card anon: hi sorry about that first ask i kinda went into a fugue state (spelling?) altered state of reality maybe when i wrote that and damn near outlined a fic in your inbox

The way we played hot seat was either part of a larger drinking game when a certain card was pulled from a deck, or just on it's own. You sit in a circle, everyone has a drink, usually a beer or cider. In the card pull version, the one who pulls the card gets asked a question by every person playing and if they refuse to answer they drink from their drink. In the standalone, you do that but everyone gets a turn being asked until people get bored and leave. Fun way to find out shit about people. Usually the unwritten rule is that you can't lie. I imagine everyone sitting on shitty chouches and chairs in a semi circle around a table full of cups and bottles playing it

Questions i have been asked: are you a top or bottom? Do you like anal? Wheres the weirdest place you've fucked? Body count? Favorite position (sexual)? Fuck marry kill/ignore people in this room (EVERY TIME I PLAYED I GOT THIS QUESTION)? Tits or ass or other? Favorite non sexual body part ex. Thigh? Ideal fuck buddy? Sex regrets? Etc

Also more weird details i have head cannoned out for some drivers and most likely does not fit with irl personalities, do with this what you will, use it or don't i just have feelings. Also everyone is like compressed in age to like 20-27ish except for some of the grid who i will just think of as younger alumns who come back:

Danny R: social chair, owns a jeep he takes the doors off of in the summer, walks girls home at night to make sure they're ok, tries to DJ house events and is rebuffed by literally everyone, has like 30 pairs of vans you trip over in his room, stolen roadsigns everywhere, masters in something arigcultural or physiological, cutoff frat shirts for days, fuckboy but nice, a bit cringe, will drive around with you at night so you can scream, met reader bc she had a band tee on and wanted to talk to her about it (no gatekeeping)

Charles: some kind of engineering or math degree but no one has any idea how the fuck he's gotten so far, 4.0 never studies, games with other house members, will show up at events randomly you will have no idea how he gets on your couch but he is there, the best and worst taste in clothes, is the only one allowed to play the piano in the house, sweet, cannot help you with studies but is always down for helping you out after, has to be reminded to clean stuff, disaster bi, reader met his gf first and they probably met through that

Pierre: good fashion and music taste, shirt is gone halfway through the night, also fuckboy but wholesome, actually studies, plays a sport for sure probably soccer in some way either club or Division he's too good for rec, will hold your hair back so you can throw up, will tell you your outfit sucks, good at math, also part of the squad that games, econ major, workout buddies with reader anday have taken a math class together

Max: is part of the hockey team he will go pro, also actually studies, got into gaming because of Charles, has the nicest car, is serious until he gets a couple drinks in him, he and Daniel are close and roomed together at some point, owns like 30 sets of the same outfit a white tee and jeans, knows reader through Dan and they get dragged by him to some of the same stuff

Lando: is a pledge or new member his big is Carlos, undeclared major, just happy to be here, gaming squad, used to play lacrosse or something equally obscure, king of knowing where the good snacks are, weirdly good at beer pong, growing into a fuckboy wholesomeness level tbd, probably sweet with reader as she helped him through a blackout or something, met her because she's basically house mom for some of the new boys (the kind of mom who will teach you to do laundry or iron ONCE)

Carlos: hockey flow but does not play hockey, actually studies and is smarter than what people give him credit for, came from a private high school and uni really opened his horizons, also good study buddy, gets along with most people, goes to office hours the most out of the actually studies gang, fun at parties, owns the frat dogs, he and reader met at Office hours (they were the only students) and found they had mutual friends too

Lewis: is/was president of frat, great grades greater bod, did full evolution from fuckboy to good man, has the back tests and the moral support, up for late noght talks about life, definitely was a D1 athlete, best fashion game, implemented no hazing policy, fits into notable alum or PhD category

Mick: undergrad like Lando, also plays soccer or something, too sweet, also walks girls home/holds your hair back etc, cleans parts of the house that aren't his responsibility, higher alcohol tolerance than you expect, everyone is bizarrely protective of him, legacy member (his dad was a legend), drives a motorbike around campus and can't decide between law and psychology, actually studies, met reader through the frat and she would die for him, brings her to class on the bike sometimes because the bike is faster

George: business major, frat treasurer, three ring binder business casual in class kind of guy, nice enough, shirt comes off when drunk, runs marathons and a podcast about investments, best notes in the game and great study partner, actually studies, is drinking monster at 6AM but not because he stayed up late, he and reader met through the frat and sometimes drink wine and bitch together

Lance: hockey player, legacy member, studies sometimes, sarcasm on point, great at stack cup, very chill, knows every good nap spot on campus, also has high alcohol tolerance, is the kind of person who does well in the cold but does not like it, wears headphones so people don't talk to him, great one on one but not in crowds, business major and minor in computer science, probably also met thru Lance's gf but vibe as more introverted people and will cover for each other if one does not want to go out

Nicky: a good boy, part of the walks people home squad, sets up designated drivers for parties, good snack game, future in medical field, good listener, pretty good study buddy, midnight snack enabler, met reader through frat and his gf he and reader are on babysitting duty together sometimes when others get too drunk/high

Yuki: also a pledge or new, majoring in games or computer science as they gave me the same energy as him, games squad, bit of a mad lad, has several stolen street signs, good, met reader through frat and Yuki is the only one patient enough to explain some games to reader, they cuss people out on mic

Esteban: good man, has a full ride scholarship, actually studies, also good study buddy, Dan's little, plays soccer but maybe on a rec team because he prioritizes school, very sweet guy as well, probably chose a really practical major/dual major, met reader through Dan and are also dragged similar places by him

Antonio: manbun, philosophy or classics major possibly business dual, generally good natured but can be seen supplying his own wine at parties, used to be really into metal but kept the hair, does not know that people find him attractive, soccer boi, met reader through frat and she's the only one who will (pretend) to listen to him rant about philosophy

Alex Albon: another full scholarship guy, somehow gets along with everyone, switched majors due to an asshole professor, electrical engineering or computer engineering, actually studies, helps with frat pets,will show you pictures of his cats at home, sweetie, another contender for will hold your hair or walk you home, probably met reader through a class or club and found they had mutual friends and that reader is friends with his gf

Notable alums:

Checo - dad, successful in finance somehow (he looks like an really successful accountant of CFO to me idk why)

Kimi - dad but people forget he is, holds the record for most drinks in 24 hours that will never be come close to by anyone else, shows up on random alum weekends with 2 kegs, legally cannot tell you what he does or he would actually have to murder you

Valterri - was good at a sport when he was there, now a very effective lead engineer at an architectural firm

Seb - environmental or mechanical engineering, all around good guy with someone the best grades in frat history

Alonso - legendary for sexual exploits (consensual)

Anyone I put as actually studies is probably the type reader would hang around for more serious stuff/schoolwork and would probably be closer to, with the exception of Dan bc I feel like he'd be like we're friends now :)) we shall hang or Charles bc he will just show up. I also imagine she has a pretty good friendship with any existing gf, however if a driver does have a gf and he is the love interest sorry bb girl u gotta go for the purposes of this fic

Sorry this is so long hahaaaaaaa glad you liked my Charles thoughts ilu

i honestly wasn’t going to share this like the rest of the anon asks i’ve gotten that i keep close to my heart but this was just too good to keep to myself.

LOOK! AT! THIS!

f1 drivers as frat bros/college students headcannon

i’m writing a series - each “chapter” will be a smut with a different frat bro and i’m hoping to post a sneak peek this week some time but here’s something to hold you over and give you some ideas

to my vcard anon - i appreciate this so much. my inbox is always open for ur thoughts bc they are SO GOOD !! can’t wait for you to read the first part of the series bby

PS if some of this doesn’t make sense to u feel free to send in asks (i know a lot of this is focused on american college culture so if u don’t get it i’m happy to explain)

#f1 smut asks #headcanons #f1 imagines #vcard anon #f1 blurb #f1 headcanon #f1 as frat bros

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natromanxoff · 3 years

Text

Queen live at Elland Road in Leeds, UK - May 29, 1982 (Part-2)

Fan Stories

“We got a coach from my home town (about 2 hours from memory) and drank an ocean of lager on the way, by the time we got there we needed the toilet so badly we could have exploded! We got into the stadium and waited for the first band of the day. Soon enough a not very well known (to me) American band came on called Heart. They weren't bad but did nothing for me. Then came The Teardrop Explodes who tried and who I reckoned did quite well despite the flying bottles of liquid being hurled at them from the crowd. After them was Joan Jett complete with Blackhearts who got the crowd going with "I Love Rock'n'Roll" mainly because Brian appeared at the side of the stage with his daughter to have a look. Eventually after a long wait the stage lights dimmed and a strange cranking sound started up and then you were suddenly aware of the drum beat to Flash thumping out and spotlights chasing around the stadium. This went on for a minute or so and the excitement was unbearable. All of a sudden in an explosion of smoke, lights, guitars, drums... Brian, John and Roger are there blasting out the opening part of The Hero. Seconds later in a gleaming white leather jacket out runs Freddie and it begins... A moment I will never forget along with many others from Queen shows since and before it. I can't say which show was my favourite as I loved them all but that moment WAS Queen, the sheer power, the anticipation, the fantastic musical ability and above all else the way they gave people what they crave more than anything... wonderful memories.” - whiteman

“29th May 1982 - a really nice warm day. We only lived a few miles away so walked down to Elland Road - I can't believe it - Queen live in my home town at the home of the greatest football team in the country (well maybe not now!). Got to the ground early and were allowed in by security, such a relaxed atmosphere. Saw band's soundcheck - great! So hot sun, never went behind stadium roofs. Got best suntan I have ever had! Heard Teardrop Explodes - not bad. Then you are aware of the beat of flash thumping out around the stadium, the smoke rises and bang - they are on! The greatest gig I have ever seen from the greatest live band in history. God bless you, Brian, Roger and John. Rest in peace, Freddie - we will never forget.” - Michael Quine

“This was my second ever gig, the first being Rory Gallagher the year before (I am sure I once read that Rory was one of Brian May's favourite guitarists). Anyway, being only 14 and not yet in the habit of getting off my face at gigs,I can remember that day very clearly. I am convinced I saw someone throw a hamburger at Julian Cope (Teardrop Explodes were going down like a lead balloon), and just as Julian was opening his gob to sing, he CAUGHT IT IN HIS MOUTH. A huge cheer went up, then they stomped off. Somebody, possibly Queen's manager, came on and told everbody to behave. I also remember a fan getting on stage and Freddie expertly rolling him off the stage. I didnt like the Hot Space album much but was chuffed they were still a hard rock band. I bought the next edition of Kerrang mag and the write up of the gig said STUNNING. Great memory.” - Edwin

“I was 15 years old in 1982 when I attended my first ever concert. Fortunately for me, it was QUEEN's show at Leeds AFC ground in the North of England. I remember when my ticket arrived in the post, possibly 2-3 months before the concert, as was often the case in those days. I stuck my ticket on a cork notice board in my bedroom and could barely contain my excitement over the coming weeks. Every morning, I would wake up and look at the yellow ticket, wishing the days away. I imagined everything that could go wrong would. Queen would cancel the gig, I would break my leg, the family pet would die on the morning of the concert and it would be too insensitive of me to go, the transport wouldn't turn up or would break down, there would be a pile up on the motorway, I'd lose my ticket en route, etc, etc. As it turned out, May 29th 1982 was a hot and sunny day, perfect weather for an outdoor gig. I was CRAZY about Queen and had been since the age of 9 but I really didn't know what to expect on that day. Myself and three friends took a coach organised by my Dad's company from Lancashire across the M62 motorway to Leeds. Our excitement began to really take a hold when we arrived at the football ground and we followed the droves of people towards the turnstiles. To me, this was something on a really big scale and I could already hear the hum of the crowd inside. Not really believing that we were actually about to witness a Queen concert, we found our seats on the West Stand, offering a great view of the stage. I remember marvelling at Queen's new lighting rig and the equipment that adorned the stage, shining in the afternoon sunshine. The ground was almost full at this point and the pitch was heaving with people. The atmosphere was relaxed as people bathed in the sunshine. I remember two guys climbing the fence from the stand and attempting to get a better spot by running into the crowd and losing themselves on the pitch. Their efforts were in vain however as they were quickly located and ejected back into the stand by two security guards. We bought some black Hot Space tour shirts (I wore mine with pride until it literally fell apart) and a programme from a vendor inside the ground and waited for the first band to take the stage. A guy near us shouted and punched his way through Heart's set and then left just as they vacated the stage. Obviously not a Queen fan! The Teardrop Explodes suffered at the hands of the Queen congregation and found themselves battling against a shower of bottles and assorted missiles. Other than that, I don't really remember much about the support bands. I think that Bow Wow Wow were billed to play (an odd choice) but I can't recall if they actually turned up. No matter, we were about to witness what is still one of the best gigs I have ever attended.

As the dusk descended upon us, the giant floodlights were extinguished one by one and the memory of the roar that followed still sends shivers down my spine. Dry ice drifted across the heads of the crowd on the pitch as the intro tape of Flash thumped out of the PA and the strange 'grating' noises added to the recording created a foreboding atmosphere. Two of our party were on the pitch and to this day remember their chests thumping in unison to the powerful rhythm. A sea of hands clapped in perfect time to the beat. To me, this was already an amazing experience. And then the big moment. Freddie, resplendent in dazzling white made his entrance to The Hero and the blaze of the lights. An apt number to start with. Before he had even sung a note, the audience were locked tightly in the palm of his hand. Such an entrance, such a showman. "You're a F***in amazing crowd", he exclaimed after the first rush. The beginning of the gig is, in truth, my strongest memory of the show itself. In particular, the "Flash!!!" vocals cutting through the night air with so much volume. I recall being shocked at the sheer power of Queen's performance and the clarity of the huge sound they harnessed. Morgan Fisher's keyboards during 'Action This Day' sounded bright and hypnotic. Freddie's intro to Fat Bottomed Girls caused quite a response too; "the bigger the t*t the better it is!". I also remember the follow spots darting wildly over the crowd during 'Tie Your Mother Down' and everybody going crazy. Oddly enough (and this is something I still swear by to this day), I was in a Maths lesson at school the following Monday and I swear I had a flashback of this and could actually 'hear' the music being re-played in my head. It was a weird moment and life was never quite the same again. We talked endlessly about our experience for months to come and one of my biggest regrets is not jumping on a train to attend the filmed Milton Keynes show a week later. Having been to so many gigs since, I can honestly say that there is nobody who has been able to top Queen live; I was lucky enough to see the band five times between 1982 and 1986, including Wembley Stadium and their last show at Knebworth. I think that my personal favourite was their performance at the NEC in Birmingham on 'The Works' tour in 1984. People were literally stood there with open mouths, unable to believe how good they were. Leeds is definitely up there too. I recall Brian May stating that he thought it was one of their best performances ever. I can't argue with that Mr May. I've often wondered if an audience shot cine film or even just photographs exist from the Leeds gig. It would be a dream come true to see my memories come to life again.” - Keith Lambert

“I can't believe it was 30 years ago that I attended my first ever gig at Elland Rd Leeds in 1982. I was 17 years old at the time, I was into Queen when I first heard seven seas of rhye, which was so different to all the other stuff around at the time. I'd heard them live on tv, and had Live Killers. Also I used to buy bootleg cassettes of all of their tours from 74 onwards. But nothing could prepare me for that day. They should have played this gig at Old Trafford Manchester, my home town, so I was gutted when the residents opposed it. Tickets were very easy to come by, believe it or not, cos Queen were not seen as a relevant band at that time. Also touring the Hot Space album didn't seem to excite anybody. So, Billy no mates had to go on his own, haha. My memory is a bit hazy, but I will try my best. I got to the ground about 1pm, and was lucky enough to have a pitch ticket. I got right to the front, well about 10 yards from the stage, slightly off centre and to the right. If I told you I never moved from that spot all day and never spoke to anyone, would you believe me? One of the reasons for this is the rivalry between Manchester and Leeds, also I was only a kid, haha. Not sure who was first on, probably Teardrop Explodes, Julian Cope, I remember while they were throwing bottles at him, picked one up and started hitting himself with it and stretching his arms out saying he was an Argentinian bomber or something. It was during the Falklands war, remember. Then Heart came on, not really my cup of tea, and I had a lie down on the tarpaulin and tried to go to sleep. Then Joan Jett, who was better than the rest, but not really exciting. During the band changes, I remember the roadies polishing Roger's drum kit and climbing up ropes and those threepronged lights, which before I saw them move I thought they were cameras. Queen took ages to come on. From my recollection and I might be wrong, they didn't come on until 10pm and went off around Midnight. I heard later that they got fined so much per minute for being late on stage but they wanted to wait until it was dark for the lighting rig to take effect. If you watch the Bowl DVD you will notice it was light when they came on stage there. But that was being filmed by Channel 4. But it was absolutely pitch black when they came on stage at Leeds. Then the floodlights went off, smoke started to appear and strange noises started, which I can't describe, sorry. Then Flash's Theme started, it was loud, very, very loud. I knew they were supposed to be loud and this was the part that scared me. The ground was thumping, the bass just pumping away. The these 'cameras' flicked into life, with men on them. The intro seemed to last for a very long time. Then BANG Brian appears with the first chord of The Hero and a flash of the biggest white light I've ever seen and will never forget and the absolute loudest noise I have ever heard just hit me. The intro was quite in comparrision to this. When I play Live at the Bowl, I tend to repeat the intro and The Hero, virtually every time, because it was definitely a life changing experience for me at that moment, just incredible. Then Freddie appeared in brilliant white again, I was that close, I swear His hair seemed blue because of the mass of white lights. His voice, so loud, so clear, honestly, I can't describe that moment properly. I heard Freddie swear, saw Roger spitting, quite a lot, over his drum kit and onto the stage, I was bewildered.

When they did Play The Game and also Somebody To Love, when Freddie was doing the intros for them and it will sound strange to those that weren't there, but I didn't know what the songs were. I thought they was new unreleased songs. The reason was they was so loud, It kind of deafened you and then kind of sunk in what they were about to play. Then the rest of the gig flew by and I was singing my head off. Everyone was, but you could only hear Queen. Again my memory may be wrong, but I read afterwards that Queen had paid for residents to move out of their homes for the day. These houses were monitored and they said that the sound was like Concorde flying 10 feet over your head... Yep I will buy that. For all that and for all the bad things said about it, The Works tour, which I went to all the 4 origional England gigs they had planned, was the best tour they ever did. The set list was fantastic and the lighting rig was incredible. Not as loud, I also add. I also saw them in Manchester, 86. They had to be off stage by 10pm and noise levels had to be adhered to. I was too far awy to see them and the screens didn't come on because it was too light. Also I couldn't here them properly. I've watched the mMagic Tour gigs on DVD etc, but for me, that was the poorest tour they ever did. So that's it, hopefully some of you can confirm my bad memory, or say I'm wrong. Hopefully not bored you all. But it was the greatest musical experience I ever witnessed and I am proud I was there.” - Paul Wakefield

Part-1

(x)

#queen #queen band #roger taylor #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #queen concerts

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the-silentium · 4 years

Text

In Emergency Only

Masterlist

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader

Words: 2120 words

Warnings: TUA season 1 and 2 spoilers, violence, blood, sexual innuendos.

Requested by: Anon!

Your last fic about Five was so good!! Loved your unique twist you added and the interactions were so believable. Definitely one of my fav fics! If requests are open, could you do one of the same reader reacting to Five fighting and kicking ass, would they fight too or just hang out in the back and wait? Big fan and I love your work

A/N: Still 30 years old Five here! Same Reader and Five as in Doppelganger! Sorry for the title, I really had no idea. Oups.

The music playing in the background brought a smile to your face. You loved to learn more about different cultures and their different people dancing the Polka almost made you regret the reason of your little visit. You swore that this woman, the Handler, had Five in the middle of her palm, enraging your boyfriend to no end, but he sucked up his ego and accepted her deal to save his family.

You followed Five through the enormous cabin. The architecture was truly beautiful, catching your eyes quite easily. You were occupied by admiring an intriguing animal carved into the wood that you didn’t see Five stopping in front of a vending machine and slammed into his side. He was quick to get a hold of your arms before you fell to the ground and hurt your behind, pulling you into his chest with a seductive smile on his kissable lips.

“Distracted?”

You rolled your eyes at him before pecking his lips. “I just like slamming into you.” Five’s groan made you chuckle before you turned your attention to the assortment of snacks displayed behind the glass.

“See something you want?” Five buried his face into your neck, tickling you with his warm breath. Giggling, you pushed him away and pointed to a chocolate bar in the middle of the display. It has been a while since you last ate some, so you figured why not? You knew that you were sitting this one out, so eating would not be a problem.

“Please?” You offered him your best puppy eyes, although you knew that it wasn't necessary. He asked you first after all.

“Sure.” He pecked your lips one last time, turned to the machine while digging some money in his pocket and inserted the coins into the slot. He pressed the letter and number assigned to the candy and karma decided to hit you by stopping the spiral metal thing before the sweet could fall down.

Frustrated, Five tried typing in the code again, without success. You knew that at this point in time, Five was getting pretty impatient. The last days haven’t been easy on him, especially when you almost got shot by one of the Swedes and every one of his siblings was scattered around town and not listening to him, causing Five to get irritated pretty easily.

You grabbed his arm to calm him down when he started to push the machine and pulled him along with you to the cake further down the hallway. The only way to calm down Five was to allow him to successfully grant your wishes of eating something and the cake would do just fine.

You quickly dipped your pointer finger into the icing, turned to him and when he opened his mouth to voice his anger you shut him up by putting your finger into his mouth. His pissed-off expression soon morphed into a cocky one when he noticed the red coloring your cheeks, proceeding to see if the color could reach your neck by sucking harder on your finger. Embarrassed by his antics, you retrieved your hand and hid your face in his chest.

“This icing is heavenly.” He chuckled before reaching for something behind your back. “Look up.” You reluctantly did as told, dreading what you would find. Instead of being hit square in the face by a hand full of icing like you feared, a single maraschino cherry dangled between Five’s fingers, two inches away from your mouth. Instantly, your mouth started to water, the sweet ingredient had always been your favorite part of a dessert. “Open up.”

You would have blushed if it wasn’t for your excitement of eating the prized cherry. You didn’t hesitate to tilt your head and open your mouth to the incoming sweet, a delighted moan filled Five’s ears when you grabbed the fruit between your teeth and chewed.

“Now that’s a sound I like to hear.” The bliss of the cherry moment now over, your blush came back full force at his innuendo. You weren’t used to his flirty attitude, he was gone for 17 years and as young teenagers, your relationship wasn’t really oriented in that direction. You had to remind yourself that he was, in fact, 58 years old regardless of his physical appearance.

A kiss fell on your cheek and Five let go of you to make his way to the fire axe on the opposite wall.

“Do you think preventing the end of the world is enough of an emergency?”

You smiled at his question and nodded once in approbation. “Definitely.”

He winked at you before grabbing the axe with both hands and walked into the room. He passed in front of you and you took care of closing the door after yourself, this time your job was to keep watch and stop anyone from entering the room. Because it was the Commission’s board that was targeted, Five had thought it wise to take the matter into his own hands and keep you out of it.

You weren’t against it, the memory of the barrel of an automatic rifle pressed at the back of your head was still pretty vivid and every time you thought about it you had goosebumps. In other circumstances, you were sure that you would have participated in some kind of way. Maybe with a knife or something, the fire axe was definitely out of your mental capacity.

You had helped Five in some of his fights before. Not every fight, but some of them. You were impressed by the amount of bloody fighting your boyfriend could be engaged in and were truly amazed that every time he would get out almost without a scratch.

Back at Griddy’s, you had to hide behind the counter where Five teleported you and wait until he had neutralized every armed guy in the room. You knew how to defend yourself, having followed some training with the Hargreeves when you were kids, but your skills were useless when guns were involved. This was the very first time you had seen the extent of Five’s ability. Never would you have thought that his space-jumping would be that effective.

Then there was the fight with the Swedes in the Mexican consulate. The absence of guns gave you the opportunity to land some punch to the tough Swedes hitting the shit out of your boyfriend, the perfect distraction for him to throw the white-haired out the window. You hissed out of empathy for the guy before fist-bumping with Five and space-jump outside.

Screams erupted from the room Five recently entered. Curiously, you made your way to the open doors to assess what you were sure was a gory scene. In the 2 seconds it took you to reach the doors, Five had already neutralized 4 of the board members and was quickly axing his way further into the room. You’ve never feared blood, your uncle had a butcher shop and you helped sometimes to put the meat into packages, nothing too dangerous, and while you helped you had seen the carcass of different animals being emptied from their organs so you were certain that you could handle whatever was happening in the next room.

A blue spot flashed before your eyes and Five appeared at the same time a man hit a wall and fell down with a lamp. You rolled your eyes when Five took the time to take a sip from a glass, the next thing you knew a guy was hanging from the ceiling and three more board members were dead in a pool of blood. As much as you hated the view of dismembered bodies, you had to admit that Five was pretty efficient in his work. You managed to make eye contact with your boyfriend when he stopped for a second behind the last Commissioner, Five shooed you with one hand so you obeyed. If he thought that you couldn’t handle it, then you couldn’t. End of story. You had to admit that the sound of the axe hitting the bones was pretty disturbing, the sound occasionally made you shiver in disgust.

You had your back pressed to the closed doors separating the bloody scene worthy of a horror movie and the welcoming Polka party, patiently waiting for your boyfriend to return victorious when a man with a fish tank as head stopped running when he saw you. If possible, you were as stunned as he was. You weren’t prepared to face a non-human person and he clearly wasn't prepared to see someone guarding the exit.

However, he was faster than you to regain his senses and try to push past you. His sudden movements made you jump, his hands were almost on your arm when Five appeared in front of you and pushed the weird robot-man-fish away from you.

“Surely we can come to some form of agreement that benefits both parties.” Your eyes widen at the voice, not expecting the fish to be able to talk. You tilted your head to the side so that you were able to see over Five’s shoulder and take a second look at the panicking talking goldfish. “Quid pro quo? What do you say?” Oh. His hope was cute.

“Why not? Here’s your quid.” Five hit the human body’s leg with what you noted wasn’t the fire axe but something that looked like a cricket bat. “Here’s your pro.” He hit him again on the opposite leg. “Here’s your quo.” Five charged his hit as much as he could without hitting you with the bat, the fish’s pleas reaching your ears, then Five smashed the tank as hard as he could. The glass exploded, water got everywhere, the body fell to the ground in a thud and the goldfish dropped to the ground.

As Five took a deep breath, you carefully stroked his back in a soothing manner before crouching to retrieve the gasping fish. You already had a bag ready for it, looking around you found a vase proudly showing off its beautiful purple flowers. You disposed of the flowers and poured the vase’s water into your plastic bag. Turning around you met your boyfriend with the fish’s tail trapped between his fingers, its head facing the ground. Hurriedly, you made your way toward them as you felt bad for the little thing convulsing out of the water.

“Poor little fishy! Put it quickly in the water!” You couldn’t help yourself and enveloped Five’s hand with the bag so the fish could be in his appropriate environment.

“It’s far from being a ‘poor little fishy’ you know? It planned for the apocalypse to happen and ordered hundreds of people’s death.” He said letting go of the fish’s tail.

You closed the bag so it wouldn’t escape and smiled sheepishly. “I guess I still can’t accept that a fish can talk. Or be at the head of an organization of killers.” You brought the bag at eye level to analyze the goldfish closer and sure enough, the fish was staring right at you. “I guess it does seem intelligent-” You paused as the fish nodded at your words. You controlled your surprise and smiled sweetly at him. “Can we name him sushi?”

The fish started to swim in circles, hitting the bag from time to time making you laugh at his apparent anger. A hand got a hold of the bag, taking the little burden out of your hands. At this moment you noticed that Five’s eyes were dull, their bright spark gone with every life he took. Worry etched your features, you reached for his empty hand and squeezed lightly hoping to give him some sort of comfort. He shot a small smile your way despite his eyes still being emotionless.

Your heart broke for him, all this time he was forced to kill against his will and it ate at his soul. Oh how you wished you had a special ability like him and had the capacity to remove all of the darkness hurting his mind. Without warning, Five pulled you to his chest and jumped to an alley. The unexpected spacial-travel made you dizzy for a few seconds. You had done it enough time before to be used to it and be spared of the once usual wave of nausea following a jump.

You knew that the Handler would come here sooner than later, so you engulfed your boyfriend in a hug regardless of the blood covering his clothes. Deposing a light kiss on his less stained cheek, you smiled lovingly at him.

“It’s almost over. Then we’ll be only the two of us.”

His forehead met yours and a sincere smile stretched his lips. “I can’t wait.”

#five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves #tua s1 #tua s2 #the umbrella academy #number five #the boy #number five x reader #five hargreeves imagine #number five imagine

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years

Text

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 23

First time reader click here

TW/Summary: brucetony x reader PRON. You have finally reached the point where there is real ✨spice✨. Also, m/m kissing. There will be mild m/m action from now on in the fic. I cannot stay away from the gay and I refuse to apologize. Brucetony nation how we feelin'?

I padded quietly behind the glass divider, stripping off my lab coat and protective glasses to deposit them on the nearest flat surface. My joints popped as I stretched.

Bruce and I spent a lot of time in the lab together lately as Tony and Pete worked together on the kid's Spider Suit, something that was a tad above my level of understanding. I was much better with chemicals and cell division than I was with thermonuclear physics, me and Pete were two sides of the same coin. It was only recently that I had noticed exactly how much our respective science fields of choice complemented each other and it was a blessing that Tony and Bruce made us a little corner in their respective labs, a few square feet where I and Pete could literally do anything we wanted to.

A year ago, I would have said that science is a hobby of mine and not something I wanted to do full time. I was fully prepared to commit to medical or law school, to grow into a prestigious career that would multiply my wealth and acquire me friends in high places. My parents certainly expected me to continue cultivating the image of our family empire.

I wasn't so sure anymore. Tony and Bruce were so fucking happy in their little worlds, getting lost in their labs for days on end, creating, reinventing the world every single day. There weren't any words meaningful enough to describe how it made me feel, seeing my two men just vibing in their element. It seemed glaringly stupid the most famous thing they were for was the superhero side-gig they had, they were so much more than cannon fodder planet Earth considered them to be.

At some point during the night, Tony called for Bruce to assist him with a new feature on his suit, a kind of a very condensed, targeted explosive. These days Tony didn't hold back from discussing Stark trade secrets around me anymore, so I sent Bruce on his merry way and finished his tasks for him, carefully replicating his style of taking notes and observing the reactions. As usual, Friday ran most of the calculations so my brain wasn't muddled too much by annoying math. Out of four of us, Peter was the only crazy person to actually like doing the math - the spider bite must've screwed with his brains, I guess.

I would've been content to just hang back and observe the men thinking, but Bruce took notice of me hovering by the exit. The scientist froze and just looked back at me for a minute, eyes round and soft. I missed the exact moment my mouth curved into a warm smile and the time Bruce's goofy grin made an appearance.

"You done, Princess?" He asked, gesturing to his lab.

I nodded, padding over to him, easily settling into the warmth of his open arms. Tony smiled at me briefly, distracted by the equations on the holo-screens, reaching over to peck me on the cheek, not minding Bruce at all. Strangely enough, both men fit around me so easily, so naturally, I wondered if they'd planned this... Relationship. What were the chances of such a perfect fit for three people? Meanwhile, Bruce's other arm wrapped around Tony's shoulders and the engineer willingly fell into the embrace beside me.

"Keep it PG," Peter mumbled, eyeing the same equations with an annoyed stupor. Tony hummed, poking at the screen a bit.

"It's 2:30 AM, guys," I said, casting a glance at Pete who stubbornly rubbed his eyes but continued thinking so damn loudly. I could practically hear the sound of his brain overheating. "Spiders need sleep too," I reached over to poke Pete's arm.

"Shit, kid," Tony switched to concerned dad mode almost instantly, rubbing his face. "Go to bed. We'll finish tomorrow."

"I almost have it figured out," Peter refused to budge, frowning.

"I am one text away from Spidermom at all times," I threatened him, giggling, referring to Natasha's murder glare all of them were going to be subjected to should she find out Pete skipped on sleep in favor of science. Nat had some strong opinions regarding a healthy lifestyle for one Peter Parker.

"Spidermom," Pete scoffed but stood up nonetheless, blearily blinking his shiny eyes in the fluorescent lights of Tony's lab. "That makes you either my Spider-aunt or Spider-sibling," He sleepily made his way to hug me, embracing all three of us in the process. Peter's coordination was far from stellar when he was tired.

"I'm not one of the Spider Gang. I'm the..." I trailed off, unsure. Where exactly did I fit in? "I'm the human embodiment of Florida, a freeloader hippy aunt that shows up randomly with pot brownies. That, yes," My own brain was tired and not making much sense either.

Tony snorted. "Hot hippy aunt," His hand made way to my butt, giving it a discreet grope.

"It's not easy being the family disappointment but yet, here I am," I quoted a meme, high-fiving Peter on his way out. "So, Irondad confirmed," I raised an eyebrow at Tony who rolled his eyes, pulling me against his chest once the door behind Pete closed.

Bruce sighed, removing his glasses and letting them dangle freely around his neck, pushing them up against my back as he hugged me from behind, securely pressing me in between him and Tony. My body began to respond, a warm sensation spreading through my limbs and culminating at the side of my neck where Bruce pressed feather-light kisses along my jugular and up towards my ear.

Tony's lips captured my own, dry and chapped, moving lazily as if all three of us had all the time in the world. His calloused hand stroked my face, occasionally dipping to rake through Bruce's curls. The scientist himself was stroking my skin, hands slowly but surely making their way under the hem of Stephen's hoodie, tracing my hipbones. I couldn't resist doing the same to Tony, palming his back and sneaking a handful of his ass, making him chuckle into the kiss.

"Mind the goods," The engineer teased, parting briefly to chuck off his shirt carelessly. His jeans, belt-less, hung low on his hips, the prominent V looking as delicious as the most gourmet chocolate cake. My eyes followed the happy trail on their own accord, hands reaching out to pull him back towards me. Tony happily obliged, watching Bruce unzip my hoodie with sparkling eyes.

"I can't help myself. Why man have round butt if not for squish?" I squinted at him playfully, shrugging off the sleeves and relishing in the feeling of Bruce, shirtless and warm, resting his head on my shoulder.

"I have to agree," The scientist chuckled thoughtfully, both of us smirking at Tony who smoldered in response, all but bursting with smugness. "Bed?" Bruce inquired.

"Lab sex," Tony replied gleefully, steering us towards the bigger, sturdier tables in the back. Because, at the end of the day, Tony was Tony.

Bruce looked at me questioningly. I shrugged. "Lab sex," Before turning over and kissing him, faster and harder than last time. It was familiar and easy, the flow we had was amazing and it never once crossed my mind to be ashamed or apprehensive in the presence of my two men.

The chemistry between us three was intoxicating: they kept throwing small, appreciative glances at each other. Tony's eyes lingered on Bruce's strong arms, the scientist eyeing the engineer's chest and lips in turn.

My bra and panties were disposed of quickly, flying over our heads together with Tony's jeans; I palmed the visible erection while gasping into his mouth, licking my way into it lustfully. Bruce groaned behind me, my feverish kisses still fresh on his own lips, grinding into my ass with controlled movements. I couldn't resist moving with him, arching my back into his touch. The fingers along my spine left shockwaves in their wake.

Following the directions of my arms, Tony hopped onto the table, invitingly spreading his legs. My mouth watered - his thighs were absolutely fucking massive and kept me up at night more times than I'd cared to count. I wanted to bury my face in them, so bad.

"How do you wanna do this?" Bruce asked from behind me, having made quick work of the remainder of his clothes.

The warmth of his cock rubbed against my thighs. "God gave me three holes for a reason," I sassed, swallowing a moan. My next attempt at the very same thing wasn't as successful: Tony gasped at my words, something quiet and lewd, taking hold of my hair like he knew I loved, and steered my face in the direction of his cock. I mouthed at the wet spot on his boxers obediently, pushing my ass back towards the already naked scientist. Bruce was anything if not practical in disposing of his clothes.

He was not in a rush. Damn him, damn his self-control and damn both these sexy-ass, big-brained dorks. They wound me up so well with just a few gentle touches and words, doing nothing but mirroring each other's smug smirks over the top of my head. In a rush to enact some revenge, because I was a spiteful little shit, my fingers hastily peeled off Tony's boxers and went straight for the thing I knew made his eyes roll into the back of his skull.

"Fuck," As I predicted, Tony's eyes fluttered shut as he cursed and I made my way down his length, taking as much as I could of it in my mouth without warm-up. Tony's cock was absolutely delicious, thick and flushed.

Bruce hummed, running his fingers down the cleft of my ass and feeling at the dampness collected at my core, hot and sticky arousal that had me rubbing back onto his digits, needy. Two of his fingers slipped in with ease as he worked me open for his thick cock - Bruce knew how to take care of me, he felt the little spasms of my cunt as it greedily accepted the intrusion. "So good, baby girl," He cooed. I could feel the burn of his stare on my head as I bobbed it up and down on Tony's cock at a moderate pace.

There was no rush. Just three people enjoying themselves. Tony leaned back, on one hand, using the other to keep my hair out of my face, arc reactor illuminating the trio of us, giving his pleasure-filled face an ethereal tint. It became that much more surreal when his eyes met Bruce's: the sparkles only grew in quantity.

My moan, as Bruce slid inside of me with one smooth thrust, made Tony's thighs tense up and quiver. I was loud, always so, so the more Bruce rutted into me, the more desperate and breathy Tony became, feeling the vibrations around his cock, his hips meeting my mouth half-way. As soon as clever fingers touched my clit, I was done for, spasming around both men.

"Fuck, that's so good," Tony slurred, tightening his hold on me to the point of his knuckles turning white.

Bruce quickened, ever so responsive little groans leaving his mouth. "Hear that, Princess? Tony loves it," He purred encouragingly, making me grip Tony's thighs in desperation. The rumbly tone of Bruce's voice, coarse and rushed, was making me feel hotter than before; Tony groaned too, evidently having had the very same conclusion. Both men resonated each other's lust like an echo chamber, back and forth, until a cacophony of lewd grunts and moans was all that made sense. I was stuck in the middle of our combined longing, full and full.

My brain retreated, uncharacteristically quiet, leaving just the bare naked need to feel. So I did, I basked in the shared waves of bliss that didn't seem to end. I felt Tony fall first: the sound made it's way out of his chest, long and low, as he spilled in my mouth, twitching and pulsating, ropes of him coating me from the inside out. I swallowed the salty fluid, immediately placing my cheek atop his thigh to steady myself.

Bruce pounded on me something good, sharp, steady thrusts that made my breasts bounce and my inhales halt intermittently, out of rhythm. My exhaled air burned, the fire of my need all but scorching the soft flesh of Tony's leg.

With every stroke, I could feel another peak approach closer and closer. Tony's hand on my hair tightened, and so must've I - because an unholy growl left Bruce's mouth the very same moment.

"Huh," Tony's smug smirk was heard and not seen. "Princess, be good," He pulled my hair back, lifting my face to meet his eyes.

Words weren't forming for me, at all, so I blankly stared at the man who was positively leering down at me, mouth set in a mocking tilt. I hoped my eyes conveyed the utter devotion I felt towards the two men currently enjoying themselves to the fullest.

Behind me, Bruce growled again. "Don't think she knows how to, Tony," Startling me with the authoritative tone of his voice. I'm sure the man noticed the hot wave that his voice raised within me.

"Brat," Tony mocked, briefly sharing a look with Bruce. The engineer leaned in and carefully wrapped a hand around my throat, an array of stuttered gasps making their way onto his forearm - I saw the way the fine dark hairs stood up. He loved it, he loved my submission and my obedience, and most of all, he loved my unwillingness to go down without a fight.

Bruce crowded in on me, pushing me into a position that bordered on uncomfortable, adding tension to my body, tension that made me oversensitive and needy; hot and cold at the same time, on the brink of release but unable to reach it. Tony was still gripping my throat, firm pressure, as firm as the look he held me down with.

I saw the twitch of his mouth as he moved in to kiss me... And missed, much to my confusion - it lasted for a split second until I realized Tony didn't miss anything, ever. The two moans were a little too soft, a little too symphonic. As soon as my brain caught up with the fact Tony had just kissed Bruce, I was shivering, coming so violently, Tony had to strengthen the hold on me.

Bruce's fingertips dug into my stomach, my hips, his cock nestled so deeply inside of me, I felt every vein as my inner muscles milked him for all he's worth.

"Fuck," He groaned lowly and then he was coming too, one hand splayed across my stomach and the other grasping at Tony's shoulder. The engineer was holding both of us upright from the sheer force of our orgasms. I wasn't the only one who's legs shook.

We panted out our exhaustion, Tony's chuckle breaking the huff-huff-huff interlude. "Great to know that Jolly Green isn't a party crasher," The engineer wrapped his arms around me and Bruce.

"Tony," The scientist groaned.

"You'll be saying that more from now on," Tony saw the opportunity and he took it.

"I'm always down to tag-team Bruce," I couldn't resist adding.

He snorted. "Princess, you literally can't stand right now."

"Give me five minutes, a glass of water and a flat surface," I challenged him, knowing damn well that there would be round two and possibly three if judging only by the fact Tony's hands have had already ventured down to my breasts, palming them idly. "Tony, Bruce has, possibly, one of the most amazing cocks I've ever seen. Not being face to face with it, quite possibly, might be a crime."

Both of my men started laughing, one mortified and the other genuinely amused and I could not have been happier.

"And you've seen how many?" Bruce snarked, leading us to the elevator to go up to Tony's penthouse. The scientist's possessive streak was no joke and I fully expected to be held down and owned and bred in little less than an hour, nothing else in my head but the chase for my and their release.

It was my turn to laugh, equal parts amused and mortified. "Enough."

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie

#tony stark x reader x Bruce Banner #Tony Stark x y/n x Bruce Banner #Tony Stark x you x Bruce Banner #Tony Stark smut #Bruce Banner smut #tony stark x you #tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #bruce banner x y/n #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x reader #bun writes #party favours

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write-orflight · 4 years

Text

Like Real People Do. Chapter 6

*Gif not mine*

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Rating: M, eventually will be smut.

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: Semi-angst, a lot of cursing, Kinda nsfw language. Body image issues

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

A.N This chapter made me cry while writing it and it’s a long one. Message to be on Taglist. Much love, Cia

Chapter 6: Before those hands pulled me from the earth?

You wake up the next morning to knocking at your front door, Garbage immediately running out of the bed in search of the sound, probably hoping it was someone with food.

You groggily walk to the door in your pajamas and open it, it’s Spencer. Standing in his typical cardigan over a dress shirt, messenger bag clenched tightly in his grasp.

“Spen, what’re you doing here?” You ask, sleepily.

“I-uh, I know today’s going to be rough, I just thought you maybe didn’t want to go in alone.” He says, nervously. “It’s stupid, I’ll just go-” He starts to turn but you grasp his wrist, tugging him down so you could peck his cheek, you smile at the instant blush that spreads across his cheeks.

“Thanks for thinking of me but I still have to shower and get dressed. Do you mind making coffee?” You ask, Spencer shakes his head no before walking to where he knew your kitchen was.

You go into your bathroom and undress slowly in front of your full length mirror. It had been a big selling point when they showed you the apartment, but you kept covered it in newspaper the second you moved in. You hated your reflection, often reminded you of that night and your time with Gabriel. Large raised scars adorned your abdomen and sides, and if you could turn and see they’d be all over your back too. Stray tears fell from your face. Your mom would always tell you how beautiful your skin naturally was. How women her age would pay just for their skin to look like yours again.

You knew she’d be disgusted with how it looked now.

You sighed heavily before stepping into the hot stream of your shower.

When you come out, you dress blandly in a simple gray button up black slacks and blazer. You put your hair in a tight bun and opt to wear your glasses instead of trying contacts. Typically, this is boring and not your style at all but Hotch and Rossi had briefed you on how you should dress and act today. To look exactly the opposite of what attracted you to him in the first place, to be sensible and adult.

You come out and Spencer is leaning against your kitchen counter, sipping from a mug with one hand and petting Garbage who was sitting happily on the counter next to him. When he sees you, he smiles and hands you another mug. You cautiously take a sip. It’s made exactly how you like it.

Of course it is.

You lean against the other counter across from him and listen absently as he tells you facts about cats, still affectionately petting Garbage. The whole thing feels domestic and scarily, right. Normally, you get antsy when people are comfortable in your space but Spencer just seems to fit. Like it’s exactly where he was meant to be.

“Are you ready to go?” He asks as a while. You had almost forgotten why he was here in the first place. You nod, and the two of you walk outside to your car.

You drive silently, Spencer chatting amicably in the passenger seat. You could tell he was trying to distract you, you welcomed that. It was only a matter of time before you saw the entrance to the FBI parking garage.

You drove straight past it.

“Uh, Y/N… That was the turn.” He says, warily.

“I know, I just needed to circle the block really quick.” You say, He nods understandingly, You blow a breath as you circle the block. You see the entrance in sight.

You drive straight past it again.

“Fuck!” You swear. “I’ve got it this time, I swear.”

“You can take your time, Y/N/N.” Spencer says, softly.

“No, I can’t!” You say, looking over at the man next to you. He looks at you with a soft expression. “And God, stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what, Y/N.”

“With pity!” You yell. “You all look at me like I’m going to break any second and this was the exact reason I didn’t want you guys to know in the first place. I’m still me, I’m still more than capable of doing my job. I’ve interviewed serial killers before, so stop looking at me like that!”

“I’m not looking at you like anything, Y/N.” He says.

“Spencer, we both know I’m not an idiot. Yes, you are.”

“Ok, maybe I am!” He raises his voice back at you. You turn your eyes off the road for a second to look incredulously at him. He never raises his voice at you. “But that’s only because you went from being the smartest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met to being the strongest as well.

You pull into the garage silently when he says that. You pull into a space quickly, throwing your car into park. You look up at him to see he’s already looking at you with so much adoration, you’ve never seen that on him before.

“Thank you.” You say quietly.

“You’re welcome.” He smiles, getting out of the car.

You follow him to meet your fate.

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The two of you head straight for Hotch’s Office. He opts to wait outside while Hotch and Rossi go over how you should act with him once he’s in interrogation. Be indifferent, don’t show any emotion and if you do, don’t let that emotion be fear. You still being fearful of him is what gets him off. You nod and mumble “Yes, sir.” as you walk out, you realize you should’ve waited. Spencer was there waiting for you but so was he. Being escorted off the elevator by two guards, Gabriel Ferguson is walking through the bullpen towards interrogation. He looks up at the catwalk, sees you and smiles. You feel sick to your stomach suddenly.

“Hey, don’t look at him. Look at me.” Spencer says. His hand moves under your chin, tilting your head so you’re looking in his eyes. The action itself is so intimate that you can’t help the doe-eyed admiring look you give back to him. “You’re safe okay, no one here is going to let anything happen to you. I’m right here and I’m also going to be right behind that glass. Nothing’s going to happen. You’re going to get the address, then he’s going to go under the needle and you’re going to move on with your life, ok?” He reassures you. You nod back at him. Hotch clears his throat behind you guys, causing you to take a step away from each other.

“You ready, Y/N?” He asks.

You sigh. “As I’ll ever be.”

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

You follow Hotch into the interrogation room, where you see him sitting. The smug look that always adorned his face. He stands, cuffs around his feet and hands.

“Beloved--” He greets.

“Sit down!” Hotch instantly yells, the man falls back into his seat.

“Hotch, I’m fine. You can go.”

“Yea, Hotch.” He says, venomously. “She’s a big girl.”

Hotch gives him an angry look that could cut steel, as he cuffs the man to the table in front of you. He looks at you, softly. “I’m right outside.” He turns and exits, leaving you alone with your monster.

You sit, sitting a legal pad on the table next to you keeping the pen next to it. You then lean back and pull out your phone.

Gabriel says nothing, neither do you. You sit in silence, he watches you as you keep your focus on the screen in front of you.

After 5 minutes, he snaps. “Am I boring you?” He asks.

“Yes.” You say, looking into his eyes before turning back to your phone.

“Come on, Play fair, Beloved.” He says, in that voice that always made bile come up every time you thought about it. “The deal was I give up the location if you talk to me.”

“No, the deal was if you give the location of the bodies, You get to talk to me. I don’t have anything to say to you.” You turn your attention back to your phone. “Oh, and you will call me Agent Y/L/N, or nothing at all.”

After another minute, he snaps banging his hands against the table. It startles you for a second before you fix back to your bored expression. “What could possibly be more important that you need to be on your phone right now?” He says, angrily. You’ve forgotten how angry he could get and how scary that was but you didn’t let him win.

“Lunch actually.” You say looking into his eyes with a bored expression. “I’m thinking of getting Thai. I think this’ll take, what… 30 at most so if I order it now then it’ll probably get here by the time we’re done.”

He slams his hands again. This time you don’t react, expecting it “Put your phone away now!” You roll your eyes. “You know, I don’t like being disobeyed, Beloved.”

You do get off your phone but place it on the table in front of you, not wanting to show him an ounce of obedience. “I’ve already told you, It’s Agent Y/L/N”

“Ah yes, Special Agent Y/N Y/L/N.” He says, in a sickly tone. “Followed in daddy’s footsteps, huh? Let’s hope you don’t meet the same fate.”

That throws you off a bit but you try not to let it show. “Considering you’ll be dead in what? 23 hours? I don’t think I will.”

He has the nerve to chuckle. “Aw come on, Beloved. You won’t mourn me when I’m gone?”

“No, I was actually thinking of throwing a party.”

“That’s not true, there were times when you enjoyed our time together.”

You look at him, angrily. “I did not enjoy a single second with you.” You say, coldly.

He leans back. “I saw him, you know.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“Him.” He says, as if that was supposed to give you some sort of indication. “Up on the catwalk with you. I saw how you looked at him. Boyfriend, I’m assuming?”

You don’t give him any reaction to what he said but you knew he was talking about Spencer.

“Co-worker.” You say.

“Don’t lie to me, Beloved.”

“I’m not.” You say, growing irritated.

“I’ve worked a lot of jobs in this lifetime and I can tell you I’ve never looked at a ‘coworker’ like that.” He says, smirking “And I bet he’s right behind that glass. Do you think he’d like to know how you were back then. How you would beg for my cock? How you would scream?”

“Stop.” You say, quietly.

Spencer’s jaw clenched in the other room, he was seething mad and everyone else in the room could tell.

“You gotta pull her out, Hotch.”

“She’s fine, Spencer.” Hotch says. “If I thought she wouldn’t be, she wouldn’t still be in there. Let her do her job.” Hotch looks Spencer in his eyes. “Do you need to leave?” He asked.

“No, sir.” Spencer said, turning his attention back to the scene unfolding in front of him.

“You were always so good back then, so good and pure. Always wet and ready for me when I got home. I wonder, what he’ll have to say when he sees you, if he hasn’t already, when he sees just how much I ruined you.”

“ENOUGH!” You snap, angrily. “You didn’t ruin me! I ruined you.” He looks at you confused. “You think we didn’t find your little manifesto? With your brilliant plan to kill 2 agents and their daughter then kill yourself? You thought that would make you famous, didn’t you? That you’d go down like Dahmer and Bundy? Well, guess what, asshole? I had them seal the records, no one even knows what you did and as a bigger fuck you, I’m. Still. Alive. And you had to live the past 10 years and now the next 22 hours and 22 minutes, knowing that you are exactly what your parents always said you were, a fucking pathetic failure.” You’re seething, you know you weren’t supposed to do this but you don’t care at this point. You played his game for too long, in fact, you played it for 10 years. “And my scars only show me that despite your best wishes I’m still living. And when they stick that needle in your arm finally, I’m going to get a coffee, or read a book, or ride a bike. I’m going to do every single thing a living person does. Because in the end, You did not win. I did.”

You stand up grabbing your things to leave. Hotch is already entering before you can turn and go. He looks at you in concern but your eyes are only focused on Ferguson’s

“There’s an old pig farm off route 100. I’d check the flooring of the barn if I were you.” He says. You immediately go to exit the room. “And Beloved?” You stop, but you don’t turn around to meet his eyes. “Of all the girls, you were my favorite.”

On that, you do turn. “Go fuck yourself.” You say, leaving him and hopefully, the past behind you.

You speed walk away, you hear Spencer calling your name behind but you speed walk away from him into the file room. The tears you’d been holding all day come back with a vengeance as a sob tears through you. Suddenly, you feel arms around you and you know it’s Spencer.

“Spencer, let me go. I’m fine.”

He’s reluctant but he does let go. “No, you’re not, Y/N.” He says, looking into your eyes. “It’s ok. You did so good in there.”

The sob rips through you again, this time Spencer keeps his hands to himself, unsure if you want to be touched. “You saw?” You asked, He nodded sadly. “So, you heard what he said, what I did.”

“You didn’t do anything, Y/N.” He says, looking into your eyes. “You did what you had to to survive. No one’s judging you for that.”

“He’s right though.” You say, tears streaming down your face. “He ruined me.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true!” You snap. “Look at me, I’m a fucking wreck. I have nightmares all the fucking time, I can’t even look at my own reflection for long without getting sick, I can’t date because every time I do, I’m afraid they’ll finally see me and see this broken, horrifying, disgusting monster he left behind. I-” your rant is cut off by Spencer’s lips connecting to yours.

Your first kiss had been Peter Ross in the closet at your first boy/girl party in 8th grade, you remember it being wet and slimy and swearing to yourself you’d never kiss a boy again. That hadn’t been true though, you remember your high school boyfriend, Tony, who had kissed you for the first time under the bleachers of the football field. Derrick, your college sweetheart, who kissed you for the first time in the library. Danny, a summer fling who kissed you on the beach. Random boys you had the misfortune of meeting and making out with at parties. You’ve had a lot of first kisses in your life, you thought you knew exactly what they were supposed to feel like.

They’ve never felt like this.

Like fire under your skin, fireworks behind your eyes. Pulling cookies out of the oven at the right time. The smell of calm air after a hurricane.

These were some of the things you’d use to describe what it felt like kissing Spencer Reid but the action itself was still indescribable.

You groan in surprise at first, not completely sure what was happening. But when his hands caressed soft yet somehow still firmly around your face, you couldn’t help but melt right back into him. Your hands moved to his jaws while his moved from your face to grip tightly at your waist. His tongue slides along your bottom lip, you groan in surprise earning you a groan in return and a tongue in your mouth. You stay like that for a while, frenching in the file room like this was a bad Daytime drama, until he eventually pulls away. You go to follow his lips but he only pulls back more with a smile, leaning his forehead against yours. You stay like that for a moment, your hands still on his jaw, his on your waist.

“Do you-uh,” He starts. “Do you want to get dinner tonight?” He asks.

“Uh, yea.” You say, reluctantly letting him go and backing up so you can look at him properly. “Can it be Thai? Talking about it in there made me crave it.”

He nods, happily at you before following you out of the file room.

Taglist: @haylaansmi @yoruebeautiful @kianagilder-blog @l0ve-0f-my-life @bihoeofmanyfandoms @dreamer7black @baby-banana @drreidshands @blameitonthenight21 @slyskyeey @liaabsurd @di-essere-amato @oliviamaerose

#spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer x you #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #bau x reader #spencer x reader smut #spencer reid x reader smut

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everybodyscupoftea · 4 years

Text

under the mistletoe

ole miss rafe x reader

the beginning of your relationship with some misunderstandings along the way (ft. the first kiss)

yes i will continue to use the same gif of this man :)

(warnings: cursing, drinking, light editing)

Rafe texted you for the first time about a date the weekend after the Egg Bowl. You weren’t overly enthused at the prospect, he’d been a huge dick, but you couldn’t help but be intrigued by him.

Dinner and a movie.

It wasn’t even a question. It was a demand, like he knew you’d say yes so there was no point in actually asking. To be fair you did plan on saying yes, but he didn’t need to know that. So, after 30 minutes, you had to make him sweat it out, you responded.

First of all, you should ask. Demanding is not the way to get a date. Second of all, if you think I’m voluntarily stepping foot in Oxford for a boy, you’re sorely mistaken.

Rafe responded almost immediately which made you feel a bit vindicated.

You’re right. I’m sorry. Meet in Jackson?

Which you could absolutely do. The two of you made plans for the following weekend to meet at the Cultivation Food Hall, and then you wanted to check out a science museum they had there. It was the inner vet major in you. And shockingly, Rafe agreed without much of a fight.

Of course it was almost too much to ask. What more could you expect from an Oxford frat douche bag, really there was no one to blame but yourself. The science museum was maybe a little bit childish, but you thoroughly enjoyed it while Rafe made it very clear he was bored.

You weren’t entirely sure what his major was, but clearly it wasn’t very sciency. There were easy hikes which cheered him up a bit, so you were glad for that, but when the two of you got in your cars to go your separate ways, you expected that to be the end.

It wasn’t, and he texted you again.

Did you make it back okay?

And when you didn’t answer, ready to leave him on read despite the warm feeling in your chest, he texted again.

I hope you had fun, I did. Can I see you again?

You walked over to your roommate’s room and dropped onto her bed with a loud, dramatic groan. She looked up from her desk where she was reading for one of her classes with an amused look, “Something wrong?”

“Rafe texted me,” you told her. She’d heard all about the date, you called her on the drive home so she had Thai takeout waiting for you when you got there, so she understood for the most part.

“And? Leave him on read if he made you that miserable today that you had to eat your weight in Thai food.”

“But, part of me wants to text him back. Like a big part of me. I don’t- explain to me.”

She snorted, “You’ve always liked toxic men.”

Your jaw dropped, but you couldn’t really argue with her there. There was nothing but the truth in her words, “Um, you didn’t have to come for me like that.”

“You needed honesty. I know you’re going to text him back, so what do you plan on saying?”

“What should I say?”

“I don’t know. I barely met him. Have your texts been super flirty?”

“Not really.”

“Do you want them to be?”

And that you had to think about. Did you really want to pursue things with this guy when you were both about to graduate in a semester.

“Maybe, I don’t know. I mean it might not go anywhere or get, like, super serious.”

She made a face, “But is that the guy you really want to pass the time with? Like you could definitely meet a nice boy here.”

You scoffed, “I’ve been here for three and a half years and haven’t managed that. May as well go for a hotty toddy.”

She sighed and gave you an amused look, “I’m a little embarrassed for you. This should be against everything you stand for.”

“It is,” you told her, slightly ashamed, “but he’s also cute.”

“Like I said, toxic men as long as they come in a pretty package.”

So, after a few hours you texted him back.

Yeah I made it, thanks. I’d like that. Maybe we can catch that movie. But no way in hell I’m going to Oxford.

His response was a little delayed, which you didn’t expect one back that night anyway, you sent it late. But just as you were almost asleep, your phone buzzed.

Fair enough. But don’t expect me to show up in Starkville anyway

Some people in your major were throwing a Christmas party a week before Christmas, and you really were debating going. Most of them had significant others and you knew it would be pretty painful being one of the only singles drinking alone.

“So bring Rafe,” your roommate suggested when you were yet again laying on her bed to complain.

You sat up fast, head spinning a bit, “I can’t just ask him. We haven’t even been seeing each other that long. Like he hasn’t even kissed me or anything. No relationship definition at all.”

She joined you on the bed and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “Okay, feel free to correct me if I’m wrong, but you actually really like this guy, right?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, “I’m such a hypocrite, but I really do.”

“Then ask him. You said the dates were getting better with each one. You’ve seen him every weekend for a month and some weeknights since you don’t have Friday classes.”

“What if he says no,” you whispered, “I think that’s why I’m most worried. It’ll really really hurt if he says no.”

She bit her lip, thinking, “Okay, if he asked you to be his date at some event in Oxford, would you go?”

You answered without hesitation, “I would.”

“Then ask. If he says no, I’ll go as your date and we’ll drink and have fun. But all you can assume is that he likes you as much as you like him, and he’ll say yes.”

“You’re right,” you admitted, standing from her bed, resolved, “I’m going to ask him.”

Hey Cameron, got a minute?

He answered quickly.

Sure, what’s up?

So you called him, and he answered on the second ring. Deep down you were very pleased about that.

“Hey,” he answered, “something wrong?”

“Not really, I just had a question for you.”

In hindsight, maybe you should’ve done it over text so if he did reject you, it wouldn’t be where he could actually hear your response. But the reasoning you called is so that if you got a no it wouldn’t be in a text where you could reread and over analyze that night.

“Fire away,” he cut off your spiral.

You sighed, “Okay so a few people in my major that I’ve done group projects with before are throwing a Christmas party. We all get plus ones, and I was wondering if you wanted to come with me.”

He hummed, “What’s the date?”

“Um, I think December 18th. If you’re going home before then, that’s totally fine. I just wanted to ask.”

“You’re willing to bring a hotty toddy to a bulldog Christmas party,” he teased, “I’m honored.”

You snorted, “Unfortunately, I am. If you want to at least, please don’t feel pressured.”

“I don’t. And I’m not going home for Christmas. I haven’t since freshman year. The reason I asked was because some of the guys in my pledge class are having a get together of our own. We did Secret Santa and it’s on the 21st so I didn’t want to miss it.”

“Oh,” you paused, “so you’ll come with me?”

“Of course,” his voice was soft, “you sound surprised.”

Your cheeks heated up, “I mean, I was kind of expecting you to say no.”

Rafe went silent, you could almost hear the gears in his head spinning as he tried to come up with a response. You were about to ask if he was okay before he responded, “You know that I like spending time with you, right?”

You tried to play your anxiety off, “I mean, I’d hope so the amount of weekends we’ve spent together so far.”

“Good. So then why do you think I’d say no?”

“I don’t know,” you chewed on your lip, “I guess we just haven’t really talked about what this is and I wasn’t sure where you are or how you feel.”

He hummed, “Okay, I understand. I’m sorry for not communicating better.”

“It’s okay, I should’ve done better too.”

“Well, now that we’re on the same page. Tell me exactly when the party is and I’ll be there.”

You hesitated, “Do you want to come the night before and stay?”

His voice was warm, when he answered, “Absolutely.”

“Thank god,” your roommate had said when you told her, “now I can go home early.”

Her partner was from her hometown, and they didn’t get to see each other often. She’d come to visit a few times since you and your roommate had lived together, so you had at least met her before.

“Tell her I said hey. Do you need a ride to the airport?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“I need to pick up dessert for the party anyway, so I’ll drive you to Jackson and go to Target there.”

The two of you woke up at 3 a.m. to get her to the airport by 5:30. She talked a little about her Christmas plans and then the two of you rode mostly in silence. It was kind of calming, despite being super tired.

Before she got out of the car, your roommate pulled something out of her backpack and held it out to you. You took it, frown on your face, “Is this mistletoe?”

“It is. You said Rafe hadn’t kissed you yet, put this to use.”

You shook your head, huffing out a laugh, “I don’t know about that one.”

“He’ll be at the apartment all weekend, just hang it up in the kitchen or like in the hallway leading to your room.”

“It seems cheesy.”

“It is, but that’s what makes it fun,” she insisted.

Taking the mistletoe, you set it in the cupholder, “Fine. I’ll think about it.”

She nodded, pleased enough, “Thank you.”

You didn’t hang the mistletoe up, but to be fair you got totally distracted by stress cleaning and baking the desserts for the party you decided to make from scratch instead of buying store bought.

Rafe wasn’t supposed to show up until that night, but there was a knock at your apartment door at 2:30, startling you. He was smiling sheepishly on the other side, “I know I’m early, but I didn’t see any point in waiting longer.”

Grinning, you stepped aside to let him in. He looked around, taking in the decorations you and your roommate set up the day after Thanksgiving. You pointed toward the hallway your room was down, “If you want to set your stuff down, my room is at the end of that hall.”

“Thanks,” he answered, bending down to kiss you on the cheeks, something he’d been doing since date three.

Walking back to the kitchen you immediately picked the stress baking back up where you’d left it to answer the door. Rafe was gone for a while, using the bathroom you assumed, and when he came back, he was changed, and you couldn’t help but stare.

“What?” he asked, a weird look on his face.

“Nothing, I’ve just never seen you out of like jeans or slacks.”

He glanced down at himself, sweatshirt with his frat letters on them and grey sweatpants, before looking up at you, “I figured since we were staying in I could get comfy.”

“Yeah definitely,” you reassured, “I like it, just was surprised, that’s all.”

“You like it, huh?” he teased and stepped fully into the kitchen, wrapping one arm around your shoulders, “That’s noted.”

Rafe did dress back up for the party, which you were expecting. Jeans and a nice sweater. You smiled at him and tugged gently at the sweater, “This is cute.”

“Bought it just for the party. It’s even maroon, see?”

“I do see. Didn’t know if it was a coincidence or not.”

“Nope, fully intentional.”

It felt like a good time to kiss him, mistletoe or not, but before you got up the courage, he was stepping away to grab one of the desserts off the counter. You sighed internally and grabbed the other with the hand not holding your keys.

“Alright, I’m parked in the back lot, opposite direction of visitor parking.”

“Cool, after you.”

Sitting in the car, you plugged your phone into the aux. Rafe buckled up and got comfy in the passenger’s seat. You smiled at him, it felt natural for him to be invading your space the way he was. But he was giving you a bit of a complex with the whole not interested in kissing thing.

He glanced down at the cupholder and did a double take. You cursed yourself for forgetting to take the mistletoe out of your car when he asked, “Is that mistletoe.”

“Um, yep.”

“Why do you have it?”

“I meant to give it to my roommate when she flew out, but it was so early it totally slipped my mind,” you lied smoothly.

Rafe nodded, totally believing it, and you sighed. Maybe you should bring it in, hang it up when he’s in the shower or something. But deep down you knew you wouldn’t. You didn’t want Rafe to kiss you out of obligation for some stupid tradition. You wanted him to mean it.

The drive went by quickly, the boy hosting lived at an apartment complex just up the road, and you found parking easily, recognizing a few cars in the visitors' spaces meaning you weren’t the first ones to show up.

Rafe got out and took in all the MSU merch hanging from balconies and on cars with a grimace, “Y’all have almost too much spirit.”

“We aren’t snobby enough to think it’s tacky and above us,” you responded, taking a clear shot at Ole Miss.

“Fair enough. It’s just a lot of talk for a school who’s so bad at sports.”

Your jaw dropped, “I know an Ole Miss football fan isn’t speaking right now. Are you aboard the Lane Train?” you asked, mockingly.

Rafe rolled his eyes and shook his head, reaching down to ruffle your hair playfully, “With that record? Absolutely not.”

“And not because he’s a piece of shit?”

“Well, that too.”

He grabbed both containers in one hand and your hand in the other, lacing your fingers together as you led the two of you to the right building. His palms were sweating a little, and you squeezed gently, “All good?”

“A bit nervous, just don’t want to look stupid in front of your friends.”

“Why would you,” you were confused, unsure how he’d reached that conclusion.

“I mean, you’re all like STEM majors, right?”

“Yeah?”

“And I am not.”

There was so much to unpack there, so you tried to go for a joke, “I mean we aren’t going to just talk about like anatomy and biology all night, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He snorted, “Maybe a little. I just feel out of my depth.”

“I promise, it’s going to be okay. You’re really smart too, just in a different way. But we aren’t really here to show off our intelligence. It’s more to drink and eat and bitch about our professors.”

“See, that’s super specific,” he complained.

“Well, yeah, I guess. But most of us are dating out of our majors, just hop on the bandwagon like they do and you’ll win ‘em over in no time.”

By the time you’d finished reassuring him, the two of you had arrived at his door. You squeezed one last time and he smiled, seeming more at ease. Reaching up to knock, it swung open before you could, a guy named Justin grinning widely, “Welcome welcome to the annual Bitchmas Party.”

Rafe snorted and let you step in first. Justin set his drink down on the table by the door and held his hands out, I’ll take your coats and your keys please.”

Handing them over, he escorted you through the entranceway to the living room, stopping you right as the tile changed to carpet. You squinted at him, “What?”

Wordlessly, he pointed up and you saw mistletoe, your blood running cold. Rafe made a noise and bent down to kiss your cheek, close to the corner of your mouth but not quite.

“Boo,” Justin jeered, “but close enough, come on through.”

Your stomach sank. Again. And Rafe leaned down, “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. I mean, you could’ve kissed me.” Your words came out a lot sharper than you intended, but before Rafe could question you, Ashton was stepping in to ask the two of you about drinks. Rafe asked for a soda and you got spiked eggnog. May as well to sort through the mess of feelings in your stomach.

Someone spread out the food and everyone lined up to get plates before settling in the assortment of chairs all over the room. You sat on the couch and Rafe sat on the floor, leaned back next to your legs. Justin gave him a weird look and offered a chair, but Rafe declined, saying he was fine.

At some point, he wrapped an arm around your closest leg and leaned his head on your thigh, nodding along to the conversation. You brushed your hand through his hair that you’d convinced him to leave ungelled, and complained about your animal sciences professor who’d made the tests way harder than necessary and not offered bonus opportunities.

Rafe actually interrupted, “Okay wait, she put questions on information not taught in class and not readily available in your textbook?”

“Correct.”

“So how were you supposed to know you were going to be tested on it.”

“You weren’t,” Justin answered him, drily, “That was her whole point. Be prepared for anything.”

“She should’ve just given us papers on those topics.”

“Agreed,” a girl named Emily chipped in, “I would’ve so much preferred that than literally guessing on a test.”

Rafe made a face, “I mean, for my history courses we were expected to do the readings and then like additional research, but she told us the topics beforehand so we’d know what to research.”

Ashton’s girlfriend leaned forward at his words, “You’re a history major?”

“Yeah,” Rafe answered, his grip on your leg tightening.

“Me too,” she looked excited, “what do you want to do?”

He leaned forward eagerly, “I want to teach, European if possible. I haven’t decided if I want to do like Advanced Placement courses in high school or just go get a masters and be a professor. What do you want to do?”

“I want to do research so I’ll definitely be going after a PhD. But I figure at least that way, I’ll be doing something while Ash is in vet school.”

Rafe looked around, “Is everyone here going to vet school?”

Mostly everyone in your group was, so they all nodded, including you. Justin spoke up, “Buncha nerds in this bunch. We all grouped together pretty much since day one since we all had the same plans. We’ve lost a few along the way.”

“Rest in peace Jasmine and Brady,” you added, solemnly.

“Do you all want to stay here?” Rafe asked, clearly curious about everyone’s plans.

A few people around the group nodded, but some shook their heads. Rafe hummed, taking in the information before looking over his shoulder at you. You nodded, “Yeah, I like MSU’s vet school, I want to stay.”

He nodded thoughtfully, “Good to know.”

Justin gave you a weird look and you shrugged, just as confused.

Four cups of eggnog later, the party was winding down, and you were happily tipsy. Rafe, still sober, had an arm around your waist to keep you steady. He led you toward the door, passing under the mistletoe again without stopping and you sighed.

Glancing down at you, he made a face, “Clearly something is on your mind.”

“Clearly,” you muttered back sarcastically. He opened the passenger door for you to climb in and you asked, “You know how to get back?”

“It’s just up the road, I don’t think it’s that hard.”

You rolled your eyes, “Just a question, no need to get so offended.”

The ride back was in uncomfortable silence, so unlike the drive there that you were squirming in the passenger seat. Rafe glanced over at a red light, “Are you about to puke?”

Offended, you answered, “No, I can handle my fucking alcohol.”

“Okay,” he muttered, “no need to get defensive.”

You hated how weird it felt between the two of you, but you weren’t sure how to fix it. Unless he just magically decided you were kissable, but you didn’t foresee that happening in the near future, so instead, you pouted.

Rafe parked and turned the car off but stayed seated, so you did too, feeling uneasy. He looked over at you, “What’s up. Why have you been so weird tonight?”

“I haven’t.”

“You have. And I think it actually started yesterday when I got here. Is it just me being in your space? Like am I invading it or something? I can go home tonight if I need to.”

Maybe you weren’t in the ideal state to have this conversation, but you also figured this was probably the state you were most likely to let the honest truth slip.

“No. The problem is you aren’t taking up enough space.”

Which in hindsight didn’t make much sense, you couldn’t blame him for the confused, “What does that mean?”

“It means that you won’t kiss me and I’m not sure why.”

“I-” and for once, for once in your whole goddamn relationship (or whatever you were calling it) Rafe was speechless, “I thought you didn’t want me to.”

Then it was your turn to be shocked, “What? When did I say that?”

“On our first date, you talked about only kissing when it got serious.”

“Yes.”

“And when I brought up the Christmas party in Oxford, you didn’t ask about a plus one. Hell, you still won’t come to Oxford at all.”

“How was I supposed to know I’m supposed to invite myself to a Christmas party with the boys? And sure, I was opposed to Oxford at first, but I think we’ve been seeing each other long enough for me to actually make that trip,” you answered incredulously, startled at all the assumptions he’d jumped to.

He squinted, “You never said.”

“You never said,” you fired back, “I invited you to a party with my friends, I thought that would be hint enough that I think this is serious.”

“I need it outright said,” he mumbled.

“Clearly.”

“Hey,” he protested, “it’s not just me. In fact, you never brought it up either.”

“Okay, Cameron, to be fair, you never brought up anything about that party other than that it was Secret Santa for some guys in your pledge class. Not only do I not want to be the only girl there, I especially don’t want to be an MSU girl there with a bunch of drunk Ole Miss frat boys.”

Rafe snorted, “Fair, that’s totally fair. So, I guess I should ask, do you want to come? There will be girlfriends and boyfriends. Secret Santa is just a small part.”

“Sure, I need to come see your apartment anyway, I should know what I’m getting into.”

He laughed loudly, “I’m not sure if I’m okay with that.”

You poked him teasingly, “Hey, you can’t take it back now, buddy.”

“I’d never.”

And with that, he got out of the car. You felt significantly better as he jogged around to grab the door for you. His arm went around your shoulders immediately, and you weren’t sure if it was an attempt to keep you standing straight or not.

“I’m not that drunk,” you told him.

He raised his eyebrows, “Okay four cups. I could smell the booze in that eggnog, it was strong.”

“Well you hurt my feelings, what else was I supposed to do besides drink?”

Rafe snorted, “Talk to me.”

“In front of everyone? At a party?”

“Bathroom.”

“So Justin could think we were hooking up in his bathroom.”

He squinted at you a few seconds, “Okay so it wasn’t the most conducive situation for a serious talk.”

“Mhmm.”

The two of you climbed the stairs to your third floor apartment. Rafe behind you so you wouldn’t fall and hurt yourself. He was a little offended when you muttered that you’d just take him down with you, “I could definitely catch you.”

“Okay buddy,” you patted his shoulder.

He made you drink four glasses of water in the kitchen and by the time the two of you were walking to the bathroom to get ready for bed, you were significantly sobered up. You tried to get to the sink first and Rafe playfully hip checked you out of the way to get his toothbrush.

“Nooo,” you complained, “my skincare routine is so much longer than yours, you can wait.”

“Guests first,” he argued, successfully keeping you away from the sink.

You gave up pushing against him to pout, “At least pass me my makeup remover.”

“Fine,” he grabbed the bottle from the sink and passed it over, “I guess you can at least start.”

“Oh thanks for your permission,” you responded sarcastically.

The next five minutes of him washing his face and getting ready, you kept trying to nudge him out of the way, but he wasn’t budging. Finally, you dug your fingers into his side and he yelped, twisting away enough for you to get some space in front of the mirror.

Your eyes lit up, “Are you ticklish?”

“No,” he denied, just a little too fast.

“Liar.”

You reached out to him again and he grabbed your hand pulling you into his chest. So caught off guard, you didn’t register him tilting your chin up or lowering his head to kiss you. And then his lips were on yours for the first time, and you made a noise, leaning into it.

He smiled and you could feel his heart racing where your hand was pressed against his chest. In the proximity, you couldn’t help but dig your fingers into his side again. He jerked away, joking glare on his face, “Watch it, mamas. I’ll make you pay for it.”

“Promise?” you teased, finally catching him off guard enough to get mirror space.

Rafe stepped over to sit on the closed toilet lid to wait his turn again and laughed. You turned to look at him, mid-washing your face, and gave him a questioning look.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the squashed mistletoe, “Guess I don’t need this.”

“You were going to use the mistletoe to kiss me?”

“I figured if your roommate wasn’t going to use it, we could.”

“Oh I lied,” you admitted, turning back to rinse your face.

“What?” he asked while you were drying.

You nodded, “She gave it to me to get you to kiss me.”

“Oh,” he perked up, “well I guess it kinda worked. Make sure to thank her for me.”

“No, absolutely not,” you insisted, “she does not need that ego boost.”

He laughed, holding his hands up, “Fine, we’ll do it your way.”

“As we should always.”

He laughed again and hip checked you over toward the wall so he could get back closer to the sink. You couldn’t help but think to yourself that you could get used to this.

day 3 of @obxmermaid‘s holiday challenge: mistletoe

#college rafe #ole miss rafe #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #outer banks fic #obxmermaidholiday

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