#happened to him. and i am spinning in circles here do u see why he makes me insane.

[quietwingsinthesky]

you ever just think about. “You are diseased, albeit a disease of our own making. No more.” you ever just. oh, they made him and they discarded him. it’s never going to be quiet again for him, and that’s just collateral. they let the sound rot through his whole life, his whole timeline. because that’s the kind of easy sacrifice you can make when you want to save yourself above everything else, one that doesn’t ask anything of you. you dig open a child’s mind and you bury your survival inside him and when he follows the noise back home, when he does exactly what you groomed him for, you call him ruined for it. that’s. you ever just think about that.

#it’s genuinely such a horrifying sixkening thing that they unveil. what was done to the master. #and it’s like. it’s so important that he is awful. he really is. but he still does not deserve to have had this done to him. #the drums are a tragedy that cannot. would not. be a punishment earned no matter how terrible he is. #they’re such a violation of his mind. isolating and constant and violent. and it drives me insane that this is just. in the show. okay cool #ill never be normal again. #they literally pulled his head open. during a ceremony that we. as far as i know. have to assume is not exactly voluntary. and is at the #best of times. already traumatic and horrifying. but they went into that moment and they put the drums in his head and they made him into #something repulsive to them. because they did that to him! in this thing alone the master had no agency and no way out and this thing that #was done *to* him is what makes him. to them. a broken thing now past its usefulness now that he’s done what they wanted him to. #sorry im rotating him in my head again and again. this is the thing that makes him ‘diseased’. it’s that they chose to do this to him. there #is nothing he could do to not be this. he was a child and there was nothing he could do to stop it from happening. he’s an adult and he’s #doing the impossible exactly like they shaped him to do and he can’t stop this from having happened to him. so he might as well follow the #drums. and then. and then rassilon calls him diseased. and im going to. lose it. #there was nothing he could have done………….. #everywhere else he has choices to make and he can burn the world and keep it as a toy and he can fuck with the doctor and he can do. #anything. anything he wants. but he can’t. there’s nothing he can do to make it stop. there’s nothing he can do to make it so this never #happened to him. and i am spinning in circles here do u see why he makes me insane. #and the doctor doesn’t even really fucking believe him that the drums are real until the master makes him listen……. oh im going to be ill. #doctor who #simm!master #the master

[lustbile]

Not really a blurb but I would like to hear your thoughts on this tho – so obv ppl keep saying that jeno got a samoyed smile but doberman body, then if he were a hybrid (sh!t, ive been religiously stalking ur blog for this ever since you announced your hybrid brain rot) which of the two dog breed would he be?

And would it affect his whole behavior? As example, one of the reasons samoyeds were bred originally was to keep the owners warm in the cold northern weathers and Dobermans are known well for being good guard dogs. Idk, the contrast is quite big soo 👀 (Up to u if u want to keep it sfw or not lol)

Samoyed-doberman anon here again ++ just lil personal thoughts that have been circling in my mind++ like the difference would be either oversized knit sweater Samoyed jeno that constantly follows u around (bc they r a breed that thrives on interactions with humans n also other dogs) and smothers you to the point of almost passing out not knowing that he's basically a walking furnace;

Or Doberman jeno that plays a bit too much into the territorial/guard instinct and gets silently jealous (bc he is a taurus man too) after catching whiff of another hybrid on you

—————————————————

This….. is plaguing me.

Can I say both? Like am I allowed to say both? Mixed breeds exist so I can say both right?

BECAUSE BOTH

Like both personalities you’re giving me are so Jeno and it’s making my head spin. Like yes he’s all cute and cuddly and I’m thinking of when he had white hair. He’s such a companion and he loves to cling and he’s all warm. Just like, aside from his face, he’s giving big samoyed energy and I just want to grab him and cling

But!!! The doberman. Fuck I love dobermans and I can see him definitely being that way as well. Like yes he’s cute and cuddly. But maybe sometimes he gets a little rough around the edges. He’s made it clear on more than one occasion that he does not know his own strength. And I can also see him as being a big cuddle monster one second and then flipping and becoming so territorial and protective the next. And that thing he does with his eyes when he performs,,,, god like him doing that when he sees both other humans and hybrids looking at you because god forbid you go anywhere without him trailing close behind.

And i think I might get in trouble if I keep it sfw so let me also say. Maybe something happens. Maybe another hybrid sniffs at you or someone human hits on you even though Jeno is standing right there. And he just gets silently livid. Just brooding and frowning and scaring the person/hybrid off because big scary dog privilege™

So when you get home he looks clearly relieved, and for a second you chalk it up to him just preferring to be in his territory and his space. But it’s when he jumps on you, ripping your clothes off to drench you in his smell, that you realize no, he’s just happy to have you to himself.

And he’s insatiable, and that strength he’s unaware of is back. And he has you face down on the couch crying out before you can even blink. He’s growling and nipping at your neck. And he’s just overall trying to show you that you belong to each other and to show the same thing to anyone you see ever again.

But of course when it’s all over, it’s a like a switch. He’s big and cuddly and warm again, curling around you and laying on you. Not giving two fucks about how warm his skin is as he’s just happily lapping at your neck. Because JENO!! That’s why

#sorry I feel like I’m yelling #but I am unwell #nct smut #nct dream smut #jeno smut #ask

[ragingbookdragon]

She's A Bird! She's A Plane! She's...Spiderwoman?

Justice League x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 3.3K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: IDK where this came from but I was watching ITSV, so...there's that. Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

“This is your fault,” Barry griped, hacking away at the glowing fauna with the makeshift machete—in reality it was just a really big stick that had a really sharp rock tied to the end. “I told you our trajectory was off and what did you do? You said, ‘I’m Hal Jordan, the greatest pilot in the world. Watch my big head crash us on an alien planet where our central battery gets displaced during the impromptu crash land and thrown miles from our position’.”

“Do you want some cheese with all that whine, Bar?” Hal asked, an unimpressed scowl on his face as he illuminated their footpath. “It’s not my fault the orbital windspeeds were faster than the sensors picked up on. Blame the tech, not me.”

“That sounds like you’re just trying to pass off the blame,” he shot back, swiping down at another vine that wriggled like a dying snake and spat out fluorescent blue liquid on the broken end. “Y’know? Like you do best?”

“Seriously, find a better thing to do than complain, Flash. We’ve got bigger fish to fry than blaming each other.”

“Each other? I didn’t do anything! This was all you!” Barry spun on Hal and glared at him.

They glowered at each other when a clicking sound echoed above them and they both jumped a foot in the air, spinning back-to-back as they looked around in every direction, up and down and side to side.

“What the hell was that?” Hal worried.

“I don’t know,” Barry replied, just as concerned. “It sounded like clacking.”

“That did not sound like a chicken.”

“Clacking, Hal, not clucking.”

“Same thing,” he retorted, lifting his arm in the air, shining a bright green light amongst the glowing red treetops. A bunch of branches, neon red leaves and purple flowers, a darting limb—a darting limb?

Hal shifted the light back, jolting Barry’s shoulder in the process. “What is it?”

“There’s something above us,” he whispered, watching with cautious eyes as something shifted on the main branch of the tree, the outline of a dark head coming out, just enough to catch the edge of their bright gold eye. “It’s watching us.”

The something shifted back into cover, the clacking sounding once more, then the treetop ruffled, dropping red and purple fauna on the two men as it jumped to another tree. Hal tried to follow it, but it was too fast for his eyes; the only thing it left behind though was a string of long white webbing, hanging down from the blue tree branch. And Hal being the idiot he was, decided to touch it to see if he could figure out what it was, and only managed to get it all over his hands.

He pouted, trying to pull apart his hands. “It’s sticky.”

Barry let out a long and heavy sigh, placing one hand at the small of his best friend’s back, the other holding the machete. “Come on, dumb-dumb. Let’s go find that thing again.”

“Isn’t that the opposite of how the survivors live? I know we’re white, but I didn’t think we were that white.” He was half tempted to see if he could gnaw the webbing with his teeth. “This shit isn’t coming off.”

“Here,” Barry said, vibrating his hand as fast as he could and to Hal’s surprise, the webbing cut, falling to the ground.

“Thanks!” he chirped, holding his arm out again to shine his ring. “What do you think that thing was?”

“Alien lifeform.”

“No shit, Sherlock. What gave it away? The alien world?”

“I’ve just about had it with you,” Barry growled, cutting through another rough patch of vines. As the path cleared, they stepped out of the heavily forested area to see one older tree in the center of the circle. It rested atop what looked like an ancient cave, the rocks crumbling around the front.

“I’m not going in there,” Hal immediately stated. “You couldn’t pay me all the money the US owes in debt to go in there. Fuck that.”

“You’re such a big baby,” Barry chuckled, walking up to the entrance; it was about the twelve feet high and ten feet wide, big enough for the two of them to walk in. “Come on. It went in here.”

“Barry, please! Why aren’t you more worried about this?” Hal begged. “You should be more worried!”

“Hal, if it wanted to hurt us, it would’ve done so already.”

“Or maybe it’s luring us to our deaths!” he countered, even though he was following Barry into the cave.

There was more webbing along the walls of the cave, swirling around patterns of purple and blue. The farther they walked the stickier it got, and at one point, they were struggling to lift their feet off the cave floor to take the next step.

“Christ, what is this stuff?” Hal asked and Barry bent down, poking at the webbing.

“It’s like spider webbing, but stickier and stronger.” He vibrated his hand to dislodge it from the strings, then did it around Hal’s feet. “You might wanna float for now. I’ll vibrate my feet to keep from sticking.”

“Good idea,” Hal agreed, lifting a few inches off the ground. “Do you think the lifeform is intelligent?”

“Intelligent us or just intelligent?”

“Intelligent us.”

“Anything’s possible. It seemed sentient so I believe it’s probably intelligent.”

“What do you define as intelligent, Barry?” Hal questioned and the forensic scientist hummed.

“If it’s capable of calculus it’s intelligent.”

“Really? If it can do math homework you think it’s worthy?”

“Calculus is a difficult skill. You need the ability to think and to calculate in order to solve and understand it. That requires sentience and intellige—oh shit!” Barry’s words tipped into a yelp as the ground gave way beneath him and he sunk down, shouting all the way.

Hal’s eyes shot wide, and he flew down the hole. “Barry!” he yelled. “Barry where are—oof!” he collided with more of the webbing, this time enough that the entire left side of his body was stuck to it.

“Hal! You okay!”

He looked over, seeing Barry stuck on his back. “I’m okay? You!”

Barry nodded. “I’ve been better. What is this?” they looked around the best they could. Spiral upon spiral of iridescent webbings surrounded them, stuck to the walls for support, them in the center.

Hal’s eyes narrowed and he glowered at Barry. “I fucking told you it was luring us here.”

“Shut u—”

The clacking sounded above them and with panic, they both turned their eyes to the ceiling, watching as the alien lowered down near them. It looked like a human, two arms and two legs, no extra limbs at all. Hell, it didn’t even look like an alien spider; it just looked like a normal human, gazing down at them with two normal eyes. That was until it opened all six of its golden eyes and stared down at them with it’s mouth open, two one-inch fangs protruding from where the canines were.

“Ohshitohshitohshit,” Hal whispered, about to shit himself in terror.

The alien reached for Barry, and he watched as his friend sunk back into the webbing from the outstretched hand. Except he couldn’t go any farther and turned his head to the side, quietly whimpering as the long black claws touched his cheek.

“Barry!” Hal hissed and blue eyes met his, then,

“Friends!” the alien shouted. “New friends for Rhiezheveir to have!”

Their expressions pinched in confusion as the being started to twirl in the air, one hand holding to the webbing they’d lowered down on, the other elegantly flowing in the air.

“You can understand us?” Barry wondered and they looked down.

“Yes!” leaning down, they got in his face, and he saw the rather feminine looking features. “Rhiezheveir saw the ship come in the sky and land! I waited until you left it to search! The ship’s memory functions in this language!” she seemed rather excited. “Rhiezheveir found the core you were looking for! I did not know how to get you here to return it!”

She climbed up the webbing, disappearing quickly only to reappear with the ship’s core under her free arm. “Here it is! Rhiezheveir brought it back!”

“Why do you keep saying that?” Hal inquired and she lowered down next to his face, hers right in front of his.

“Saying what?”

“Rhieza-something-reservoir?”

“Rhiezheveir?” she offered, and he nodded.

“Yeah, that.”

“Rhiezheveir is my name! I am named after the brightest star in the Kosialaran sky!”

“In the what sky?” Barry asked.

“Kosialaran!” she answered. “This planet’s name! My planet!”

“Are there more of you?” Hal questioned. “You’re the only intelligent life we’ve seen besides bloodthirsty beats trying to eat us.”

“Yes, I saw you fight with the Erqurcus. They are not nice lizards. They like to bite Rhiezheveir when she tries to feed them.”

“Why do you refer to yourself in the third person?” Barry piped up. “Sometimes you use first too.”

“In Aissaveed culture, we commonly refer to ourselves in the third, though I learned from watching, that humans use first. Rhiezheveir is learning to mix them.” She smiled and the clacking sounded again.

Hal tried to look at her. “What is that noise?”

Bending down to his face again, she flashed her fangs. “They click when I get excited!”

Barry cleared his throat. “Um, Rhiezheveir, are there more of your kind in the area?”

“Not here. On the other side of the planet there is. Rhiezheveir has travelled far to get away from her people’s hunters. They do not like me.”

“How come?”

“Rhiezheveir broke tradition. Refused to be royal consort. Fled and hid here.” She let the tips of her toes touch the delicate silk webbing and then crouched, the web bouncing lightly with the weight. “Rhiezheveir is not welcome amongst her people anymore. I am alone now.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Barry murmured, even empathetical of the alien. “You’re here all alone?”

“Yes! Though not anymore!” she patted both Hal and Barry’s thighs. “New friends!”

Hal wiggled. “I hate to break it to you, Reservoir, but—”

“Rhiezheveir,” she corrected, and he sighed.

“Rhiezheveir. But we have to get back to our own planet. We have responsibilities.”

Barry nodded. “We need to get back to our ship.” he tugged against the webbing. “Can you help us get out of this? We’re stuck.”

“Of course!” she chirped, starting to snip the webbing with her claws.

“Wait a second!” Hal exclaimed. “There’s nothing underneath meAHHHHH!” the last thread snapped, and Hal tumbled down the dark and dimly lit cavern.

“Rhiezheveir!” Barry yelled. “What are you doing!”

She held up a finger in a wait motion, then a wet plop sounded, followed by, “NEVERMIND! I’M OKAY! THIS WATER SMELLS FUNNY THOUGH!”

The Speedster sighed. “Oh, there’s water down there.”

She looked at Barry oddly. “Rhiezheveir would not try to kill her new friends. That is not nice.” Snipping the lines around him, she held on as he fell and she let out a squeal as they dropped, though as Barry hit the water, she merely held on to the web in her hand, just above the body.

Barry broke the water and spit out the remaining in his mouth. “Water tastes funny too.”

Hal rolled his eyes. “Rhiezheveir, how do we get out of here?”

She smiled. “Follow me!” she shot out her free hand and another string of webbing left her hand, attaching to the roof of the cavern; letting go with her other hand, she swung like a monkey on a vine, then repeated the process, alternating her hands. And boy she was fast. Barry and Hal had to freehand like they were in the Olympics to keep up, and even then, it wasn’t fast enough.

***

By the time they made it back to the ship, their hair and clothes had dried off. They noticed that she didn’t like to be on the ground and crawled along the tree limbs above them. Bioluminescent flower petals shook from the branches every time she moved, creating an aura of beautiful red and purple around them.

Barry took the battery from her and slot it back into place, watching as they ship powered back to life; he walked over to Hal who was sitting in the first seat. “Everything good?”

Hal nodded. “A few nicks here and there, but the engine and all other vital systems are good.” He looked up. “We should be good to go once the power levels reach operational.”

The Speedster smiled and turned to her. “Well, Rhiezheveir, this is goodbye.”

She merely blinked. “What do you mean goodbye? I am coming with you.”

“There’s not enough room,” Hal said, and she smiled, those fangs clacking as she raised her arms.

“I will make myself small!” her dark body illuminated in a bright gold, then the shape began to shrink and shift, eight long legs appearing out of the main shape that had evolved into two orb like shapes. When the glow dispersed, she raised her front legs and waved, then skittered up Barry’s leg and body to his head.

“I have a spider on my head.” He said dumbly. “I have an alien spider nuzzling my hair.” Barry looked at Hal. “There’s a spider in my hair.”

Hal shrugged. “So long as it stays on you, we’re good.” He peered at her. “Rhiezheveir, can you understand us in there?”

She waved her front legs as Barry climbed into the ship, sitting on his seat; she scurried down his head to his shoulder and sat there, perfectly balanced, her beady golden eyes occasionally blinking.

“That’s a big ass spider,” Hal noted.

“She reminds me of a Goliath birdeater.”

“A what now?”

“Goliath birdeater. It’s the biggest spider on earth.” He examined her. “But her legs are so long…like a huntsman spiders’. I wonder if she’s got the abilities of different species?”

Barry reached up, holding out his hand and she climbed on it, letting him lower her to his lap. “Can you sit there while we take off, Rhiezheveir? Once were out of atmosphere, you can wander around the cockpit.”

All she merely did was raise her front legs and wave them once more before settling on his thighs, curling her legs in contently; he smiled down at her, then the realization of what bringing her meant and he blurted out, “I have no idea how we’re going to explain this to the others.”

“What do you mean?” Hal questioned.

Barry looked at him. “The crash land will be easy—you’re an idiot.” He ignored Hal’s outcry of offense and gestured to her. “How do we explain we picked up a shapeshifting spider…lady?”

Hal shrugged. “Hostile environment navigated by a peaceful intelligent lifeform who managed to be a stowaway?”

“I like the first half up until ‘who’.” Barry met his gaze. “She was threatened by her own people and begged to help her flee?”

The pilot pursed his lips. “We’ll need to use her reasoning for leaving. The whole royal consort business.”

“Sounds good.” Barry glanced down at her. “Rhiezheveir, does that sound—oh…I think she’s asleep.”

Hal looked down to Barry’s lap and sure enough, the hand-sized spider wasn’t moving on his legs other than the occasional leg twitch. “Sure she didn’t die?”

“Hal!” Barry hissed. “Don’t be mean!” he gently scratched her the top of her abdomen with his pointer finger.

“You’ve pack-bonded with a spider,” Hal noted. “Nice job, buddy.”

“Oh, come on. Like you don’t find her friendly.”

“She’s a spider.”

“She’s an alien who turns into a spider.” He watched the planet get smaller and smaller as they exited the orbit and into the stars. “Bruce isn’t going to be happy that we brought an alien back.”

“I think the pressing matter is that we have no idea what she eats.”

“Bugs?”

“You said she was an alien who turns into a spider, Bar. What’s she going to eat when she’s human…like?”

“Meat?” Barry wiggled his fingers in Hal’s side. “Man-flesh.”

Hal choked on a laugh, batting at the hand against his ribs. “Stop that.” He steered the ship through a debrief field with ease. “We’d better figure out or she’ll eat somebody in the middle of a fight.”

“In a fight?” Barry asked.

Hal shot him a look. “We didn’t take this Lady Spider with us just to get her off her home-world. She’s gonna help out somewhere.” He shrugged. “Might as well stick her in the Justice League.”

Barry’s lips pulled satisfactory. “That’s…actually a good idea.” He smiled. “I can’t wait to show her to Bruce. You know he doesn’t like spiders?”

“He’s scared of spiders?”

“I didn’t say he was scared of them, Hal. He just doesn’t like them. I think creepy crawlies make his skin crawl.”

Hal shoved him in the arm. “Don’t call her creepy crawly. She’s a pretty spider.”

“What happened to making fun of her?” Barry smirked. “You pack-bonded with the pretty alien spider lady, didn’t you?”

“Shut up,” Hal griped, going still when she shifted and crawled up the dash of the ship and stared out the window; she turned, waving her front legs. “Yeah Rhiezheveir? What is it?”

She pointed to the stars, drawing her front legs in downward arcs as if to say, “Wow!”

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Barry murmured and she did it again; he looked curiously at her. “Hey Rhiezheveir, you can understand us, right?”

She waved.

“Okay. Since you can’t talk to us until we get back, how about this—front legs up is ‘yes’ and front legs down is ‘no’. Do you understand?”

She lifted her legs up and he grinned.

“Good. Now, do you like warm places?”

Her legs went up, then down.

“Sort of?”

Up.

“You like warm and cool weather?”

Up.

“We’re going back to our world. There’re many habitats there. Some really hot and really cold. Others are in the middle.” He explained, watching her almost nod. “We’ll be meeting the group Hal and I work with on another ship. You’ll have to stay there for the time being. Is that okay?”

She lifted her legs up.

Hal leaned over. “Rhiezheveir, are you a spider that sometimes turns into a lady?”

Her legs stayed down.

“So, you’re a lady that sometimes turns into a spider?”

Up.

“Nice. Can you fight?”

Up and waving wildly.

Barry looked at Hal then back to her. “You said you refused the position of royal consort. Were you chosen because you could fight?”

Up.

“So, you escaped because you didn’t want to be forced into that position?”

Still up.

Barry nodded solemnly. “Rest assured, Rhiezheveir, you won’t be forced into anything like that on Earth. You’ll be free and able to live openly and not in hiding.”

Her legs stilled in the air, then the curled and Hal muttered, “I think you overwhelmed her emotionally.”

The Speedster cupped the spider in his hands, letting her crawl back into his lap. “Sorry, Rhiezheveir. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

She merely snuggled into his lap and stayed there.

“Rhiezheveir,” Hal started. “Your name is really complicated for humans to say. While I think it would be a good identity for a superhero life, I think you should find an easier name for people to use.”

She waved a single leg, signaling she was listening.

“How about (Y/N)?”

Barry smiled. “Ooo, I like (Y/N). That’s a pretty name.”

She raised her front legs and waved them excitedly.

“I think Rhiezheveir likes it too.” He scratched her torso. “Welcome to the Justice League (Y/N). You’re gonna fit in perfectly.”

(Y/N) waved her front legs, rearing up on her back.

“HOLY FUCK LOOK AT THE SIZE OF HER FANGS!” Hal shouted.

#justice league imagine #justice league imagines #hal jordan imagine #hal jordan imagines #hal jordan x reader imagine #hal jordan x reader imagines #hal jordan x reader #green lantern x reader imagine #green lantern x reader imagines #green lantern x reader #green lantern imagines #green lantern imagine #barry allen x reader imagine #barry allen x reader imagines #barry allen x reader #barry allen imagine #barry allen imagines #flash x reader imagine #flash x reader imagines #flash x reader #flash imagines #flash imagine #dc imagines #dc imagine #lanternfamily x reader imagine #lanternfamily x reader imagines #lanternfamily x reader #lanternfamily imagine #lanternfamily imagines #flashfamily imagine

[mqnasluvr]

skinship headcanons | genshin impact

pairings; jean x gn!reader, amber x gn!reader, albedo x gn!reader

mentioned; kaeya, lisa, huffman, sucrose

warnings; suggestive themes ( jean ), all lowercase, not proofread

word count; 1.7k but half of it is albedo

jean

jean is not the touchiest person out there, but she does enjoy holding you. not too big on pda either; the most you’ll get out of her in public is maybe a quick smooch on the cheek and hand holding🛐 other than that, shes quite reserved.

her hugs are very comforting, but the first couple of times it was awkward on her part. she was used to giving barbara and klee hugs, but this was different. she wasn’t sure where to put her arms, and if anything she got more frustrated the more she hesitated.

once she grows accustomed to it, she’ll be fine. she enjoys the warmth and innocence of hugs, especially if you’re taller than her.

like i said, in public she isnt very touchy. while running errands she does keep you close though, and enjoys holding your hand more and anything.

behind closed doors shes a little bit bolder, but still shy overall. she’s not sure if she’s moving too fast for you so she waits until you initiate any type of physical contact, then takes it from there herself. it took her a long time before she managed to get the courage to kiss you tbh

one time when you two were in her office, amber walked in on you “distracting” jean from her work.

“y/n, i have to get back to work, please,” jean adverted her eyes from your gaze, embarrassed. she kept looking at the door, mentally asking herself if the door was locked or not and getting more nervous as the seconds passed.

you sat straddled on the young womans lap, her hands loosely placed on your hips. holding her face in your hands, you guided her face back to yours. “you work for way too long,” you frowned. “and i’m bored. there’s nothing to do in here.”

“the library is just across the hall—“

“if i read another book my brain will implode.” jean sighed and shook her head.

“please indulge in me just this once? please jean?” she stared at you blankly, her resolve quickly deteriorating. a couple of kisses couldn’t hurt, could it? she looked up at the clock in the corner of the room, then back at you.

sighing for the umpteenth time that day, she nodded. “just for a little while-“

before she could finish speaking, you pressed your lips to hers hurriedly, not wanting to waste any time. jean barely ever separated herself from her work, and refused to accept help from anyone else. you almost never had time alone with the acting grand master— you weren’t going to miss your chance now.

the kiss was not heated whatsoever, just very.. clumsy. and needy. on your part, at least. jean tried her best to slow you down, gripping your hips as her face heated up.

“jean, lisa needs you for somethi- oh,” amber nearly dropped the papers in her hands, immediately covering her eyes with it instead. you whipped your head around and stared at the girl wide-eyed before she spoke up again. “d-did i come at a bad time? i am so sorry, i’ll um. i’ll go now.”

jean couldnt look her in the eyes for WEEKS

it was painful

but overall, she likes physical affection, shes just nervous :,)

amber

amber LOVES touching you!! she’s 100% okay with pda. she isnt as forward as maybe kaeya or lisa, but she’s still rather bold. sometimes she forgets youre in public too, which ends up drawing a lot of attention to the both of you.

when you two go out on dates she is always touching you. hand in hand, arm around waist, whatever. theres always some type of physical contact, no matter what.

it’s so PAINFULLY obvious that you two are dating but for some reason she didn’t think that anyone knew ?? one time huffman saw yall kissing in an alleyway u really aren’t slick🤨

she loves cheek and forehead kisses, but likes receiving them more than giving really. shes a hyper one, and these kisses fluster her enough to make her quiet down. ( it’s so cute )

she often picks you up to hug you, spinning you both around in circles in an almost bone crushing hug. other than those times her hugs are really soft, but the energy is still there. ^^

have i mentioned that she is affectionate?? because she really is. she does respect your boundaries though, but if you feel uncomfortable you’re going to have to speak up on it because she won’t notice.

in private her clinginess is amplified by 10.

“i’m trying to cook, amber,” you mumbled, struggling to stir the paste sauce in the pot. all you were trying to do was make dinner for the two of you, but around 5 minutes ago she came up behind you and wrapped her arms around your arms and torso. you could feel her bury her face further into your back.

“mhm, and it smells really good too,” she hummed. you groaned, and she just giggled.

“i’ll be done in like, 20 minutes, amber. you can hug barron bunny in the meantime,” you tried to pry her arms off of you but she started whining.

“that’s too long.”

“no, it isnt,” you turned around with a spoonful of pasta sauce, motioning for her to open her mouth. she slurped the sauce and gave you a thumbs up.

“see? its good, right? well it wont get much better if you keep clinging to me so much,” she stayed quiet, but at least loosened her arms around you so that it was easier to move. you lightly patted her hand. “thank you.”

“whateverrr,” she drawled, and you couldnt help but laugh.

the pasta was in fact very good

in the end, shes the exact opposite of jean, and youll need to slow her down a lot :,)

albedo

as far as physical contact goes, it’s literally the last thing you will ever find on his mind. he’s too caught up with other things to think about physical affection

he does love you yes, but he doesnt show it through physical means. he does more gift giving, like when he sees a pretty flower that reminds him of you while going out to find starsilver shards.

if you want a hug or anything out of him you’re going to have to initiate it first— it’s foreign territory, and it’s not something he’s particularly interested in, so he doesnt feel the need to indulge in it

however the first time you two cuddle you can tell that he’s hooked. and he does a terrible job at hiding it.

now, he insists that you sit in his lap while he is taking notes because it “helps him focus better” and because “he’s so lonely”

we all know that aint true lmfao

he also really likes it when you play with his hair. please play with his hair, especially when you want him to get away from his studies. physical contact is completely foreign to him so something as simple as a scalp massage will make him melt 🛐

whenever he refuses to get away from his work, sucrose always asks you to step in because he wont listen to her

“y/n,” sucrose quietly approached you as you conversed with kaeya. you turned to her and nodded, albiet a bit concerned. sucrose never really needed you for anything, what did she need now that she couldn’t do herself?

kaeya took this as his sign to leave, but not before giving you a quick pat on the head. “yes, sucrose?” you said. “did something happen?”

she nodded meekly, watching kaeya walk off. a little bubble of guilt formed in her stomach from interrupting. “ah, i need your help with something. you see, mr albedo has been doing research non-stop on a new thing that has caught his eye since yesterday afternoon. i’ve tried to get him to put his research on pause, but,” she adjusted her glasses. “he doesn’t listen to me. i was hoping if you could maybe convince him to take care of himself?”

you pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. he was doing it again. but you couldnt really blame him, he was terrible at keeping his hyperfixations under control. “i’ll take care of him, sucrose. don’t worry.”

she visibly relaxed at your words. sucrose flashed you a smile of gratitude, then waved and walked off to finish her errands in mondstadt.

—

it didn’t take him very long to notice your presence behind him. you were practically glaring at him, but there was no true anger behind it. wordlessly, albedo turned around in his chair and looked up at you.

you crossed your arms. “albedo,” you started, and it took everything in him not to sigh at the inevitable lecture.

“sucrose sent you, did she not?” he propped his arm up on the armrest of his chair, leaning his face into his hand as he gazed at you nonchalantly.

“of course she did. why aren’t you taking breaks?” he turned his chair back around, but you sat on the desk he was working at. you placed your hand on top of his papers and he shot a glare at you. it didnt phase you in the slightest.

“i have work to do. it’s much easier to do it all at once than stop inbetween.”

“have you at least been taking care of your basic needs? when was the last time you ate, or drank water?”

your eyes softened when he looked away.

hopping off of the desk, you grabbed his hand and pulled him away from his work ( gently, of course ). he barely protested.

you started muttering about how he needs to take better care of himself while pouring him a cup of water and making him a simple sandwich. he was a bit disappointed in himself for making you worry, and ate the food you gave him guiltily.

you pinched his cheek as he ate, giving it a light tug. he slapped your hand away playfully and a bit of the guilt he felt lifted when he heard your laugh. “i’m sorry you have to go through this for me.”

you shook your head. “you just need to learn how to stop yourself. you’re smart albedo, i’m sure you’ll figure it out in no time.”

he finished eating his food and, uncharacteristically, pulled you in for a hug. albedo rested his forehead against your shoulder, relaxing even further when you weaved your fingers through his hair.

“...i’m sorry, y/n.”

“stop apologizing.”

“okay. sorry. oh-”

you laughed.

#genshin impact #jean x reader #jean x reader genshin impact #jean x reader genshin #amber x reader #amber x reader genshin impact #genshin impact fanfic #albedo x reader #albedo x reader genshin #albedo x reader genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #is it obvious that i have a soft spot for albedo

[lovetorn]

all for the game [dream]

Exy player!Dream x Reader

summary: dream runs into trouble when the florida falcons play the edgar allan ravens.

w/c: 3.4k+ :D

warnings: violence, blood, swearing, ha typical exy shit

a/n: an au based on my favourite book trilogy, all for the game. idea by 🍀 anon <3 i wrote this for my own enjoyment AHHAHAAH. if u don’t understand the rules etc of exy, it’s basically hockey, soccer and lacrosse meshed together, but if u have any questions, send me an ask!

—

Exy is a bastard sport, an evolved sort of lacrosse with the violence of ice hockey. Dream loves every aspect of it. It is vastly different from the usual college football, and it certainly gives you more bruises. Maybe a little too many more bruises. Played in a stadium, on a soccer-sized basketball court with plexiglass to protect the crowd, it brings Dream immense joy.

Scooping the ball into the net of his racket, Dream looks at the wall before he uses his body to launch the ball towards it. The ball is quick to bounce back and plop into Dream’s net. He adjusts his grip on the stick and tilts his head, deciding where his next shot should be.

“Dream?” The dirty blonde turns around and sees you push through the plexiglass door that leads onto the court. “Hey!”

Dream smiles from under his helmet. “Hi, Y/n!” You don't play Exy, choosing to watch your best friend from the sidelines instead. He grips the grate of his helmet and slides his head out of it, his hair sticking up in every direction. “What are you doing here?”

You throw your arms up. “Coming to see you practice the great sport that is Exy,” You laugh before spinning around and looking up at the highest seats of the stadium. “Haven’t broken a bone yet, I assume?” This made Dream laugh.

“No, not yet. Saving that for the game against the Ravens.”

Dream’s determination for Exy scared you a little bit—it was almost like he wanted to get hurt. “Easy, tiger. We all know what happened last time we played them. Never again, please,” You shake your head, walking closer to him. The last time the Florida Falcons played the West Virginia Edgar Allan Ravens, Dream got a concussion so bad he couldn’t walk for a few days. You had sworn they would pay for their damage, but Dream went against you.

Dream rolls his eyes, lightheartedly. “That’s the way the game goes, Y/n. No way you can stop it,” he said that back then, too. You throw him a glare before taking the racket out of his hand to gain his full attention.

“Just, please be careful.” You practically beg. Dream’s eyebrows raise slightly, surprised. He didn’t see that coming.

“Yeah, always,” He follows your eyes as they trace the scar that runs from his temple to the middle of his forehead. You sigh and pass his racket back to him.

—

The dark purple Edgar Allan Ravens bus pulls into the Falcon’s home stadium car park that Friday night. Fans from all over the state and West Virginia crowd the entrances and surprisingly, there are a lot more supporters in purple and black than green and white.

Dream looks down at his forest green Exy uniform and smooths out his jersey. He rolls his neck in a circle to release the building tension. A hand clamps down on his shoulder as Dream slips his hands into his green and white gloves.

“You’re gonna be fine, dude. We all are,” Sapnap says, although Dream can hear the waver in his voice. Dream shakes his head and Sapnap inhales sharply.

“Nah, we won’t be.”

Sapnap slides his hand off of Dream’s shoulder and turns around, probably going to the bathroom to calm his crippling trepidation. The locker room is silent as the team moves around, changing and preparing themselves for the game ahead. Dream tries not to think about the team on the other side of the stadium, who are most likely already warming up despite the game starting in an hour.

Dream opens his locker and fumbles around for his phone. He needs to know that you’re here. Opening his messages, he’s frozen from the notifications coming through.

I hope your little friend prayed for you last night.

You got lucky with that concussion. Take this as a warning.

Dream’s fingertips trail up to hover above the scar on his forehead. He clenches his fist and throws his phone back into the locker, not flinching when the dark green metal dents. Dream leans his head against his forearm that rests on the locker.

“Dream! Dude, calm down,” A voice calls from across the room. Footsteps come up behind him and Dream has to stop the tears collecting on his waterline. “It’ll be fine, Coach said he might put you on for one half.”

George’s comments do nothing to soothe Dream’s anxiety. Dream has told nobody about the threats he’s been getting for a few days leading up to this game. If he told you, he wouldn’t even be here. You.

Dream ducks down to find his phone. George furrows his eyebrows as he watches. “Wha—?”

Grasping his phone, Dream then stalks out of the locker room. He walks down the hallway towards the inner court, presses your phone number on his now-smashed phone, and brings it to his ear. Pick up, pick up. “Dream?”

The sound of your voice makes Dream exhale deeply. “Where are you?” He asks desperately.

Dream can hear the crowd chattering through the phone as he scans over the stadium trying to find you.

“Uh, section 4, row 38, where I am every home game. Why? Is everything okay?” The worry in your voice is evident and it fails to calm Dream down like he thought it would. And when he sees waves of purple instead of green, his anxiety grows.

“I—Y/n. I need to see you, I don’t—I can’t,” Dream screws his eyes shut and tries to breathe through his nose slowly.

“Dream, I’m coming. I can see you in the inner court. Stay there.”

Y/n hangs up after that and Dream looks at his phone.

Scared? A text says from an unknown number.

Dream presses his tongue into the inside of his cheek and blinks a few times. A knock on the plexiglass behind him startles Dream. He turns and sees you smiling. He lifts his hand in a small wave and you do the same, laughing at him. At least he has a way to take his mind off of the shit with the Ravens.

A bell signals the start of the line-up announcements and Dream throws his thumb over his shoulder. You nod, understandingly, and blow him a kiss. Dream smiles shyly, his cheeks growing pink before he turns to leave.

You make your way back up to your seat, your legs bouncing in anticipation as the Ravens walk on the court one by one while the announcer calls the line-up. Once the Ravens are in a line on the halfway line, the Falcons are announced.

Since teams are co-ed, the variances in heights differ greatly. The Ravens are much taller than a majority of the Falcons, which gives them an advantage, to an extent. Dream had told you that being shorter allows you to move around the court with more agility, but being 6’2’’, Dream chose to be a striker instead of a dealer or a backliner.

“Number 2, Dream Tucker.”

At the sound of your best friend’s name, you stand and cheer, earning a few dirty looks from Ravens fans. As the remainder of the team is announced, you grow more nervous than you thought possible. A warning buzzer sounds and both teams go back to their benches.

“Alright, guys, this is our biggest game of the season, again. The last game against these idiots wasn’t ideal, but don’t let that deter you from doing your best tonight. That goes for you too, Dream," Coach looks towards Dream and he nods. Dream draws his bottom lip between his teeth from under his helmet and looks down at the ground. Sapnap’s hand slaps Dream's back in support and then the rest of the team is in agreement.

At his teammates’ words, Dream huffs. He can do this. The starting team goes onto the court, the doors closing behind them with a thump and then the scrape of a lock.

Dream sits on the bench next to Punz and Liliana. They hear the buzzer go off again and then watch as Sapnap flicks the ball into the air and slams it with his racket. There’s a distinctive crack as both teams race off their lines to find their preferred place on the court along with the players they need to mark. Three bodies crash into each other and the ball pops out on the other side, rolling silently.

At the sight of violence, the stadium roars. A Ravens backliner throws the ball and it hits the plexiglass in front of Dream who jumps in surprise. The ball is picked up off the floor by another Ravens player. He throws it to a girl who is running across the court and it lands perfectly into her net. Dream sees Tegan bodyslam the girl into the wall, the glass shuddering under their weight and Sapnap throws his hand up in a thumbs-up at Tegan, who smiles under her helmet.

The ball sails high in the air and players push and shove each other under it. As it comes down, George gets pushed to the floor, skidding to a stop a few feet away. The Ravens striker looks George dead in the eye and smirks as he catches the ball. He then tosses it powerfully towards the home court goal and the Falcons' goalie, Gabby, hits it up the court and away from herself. Dream, Punz and Liliana cheer from their spots on the subs bench.

“Nice one, Gabs! Falcons down the court!” Coach yells through the plexiglass.

Dream wears a smile when he turns back to look at you. You grin back, give him a thumbs-up, and nod. That’s when Dream knows he’s ready.

But, ten minutes into the game, the Ravens break the Falcons defensive line. The ball slips through the gap between Gabby’s torso and racket and lands in the back of the net, the siren above the goal going red and blaring a high-pitched sound. The Ravens don’t hug or cheer and return to their places on the court. Their fans, however, throw insults and middle fingers up at the Falcons while screaming and hollering.

“Fuck’s sake,” Dream mumbles. Punz slaps his pair of gloves against the bench and Liliana shakes her head.

The game went on like this for the rest of the half—the Ravens scoring 6 more goals, the Falcons scoring none. At half-time, Sapnap throws his helmet on the floor of the locker room.

“I fucking hate these guys,” He curses, pacing around the room. Coach sits on a chair, his elbows on his knees.

“We all do, but complaining about it isn’t going to help us win,’ Dream says. “Coach put me on.”

Coach looks at Dream for a moment. The tension in the room is thick and Dream knows he’s pushing his luck by asking. Nonetheless, Coach sighs before nodding stiffly.

“Dream goes on for Peter, Punz on for Drew, Liliana on for Tegan.”

And so it’s decided. Dream’s thumbs fly across his screen as he texts you. You pull your phone out of your pocket at the sound of your text tone and see the message. I’m on.

You smirk softly at it and message him back before you tuck your phone back into your pocket. The warning buzzer sounds and then both teams are back on the court: the Ravens with a whole new line-up and the Falcons with their three new subs.

Dream’s heart pounds in his chest, sending shuddery heat through every inch of his body. He holds his breath in anticipation for the serve, and then it starts. The Ravens are clearly a lot more experienced than the Falcons, but that doesn’t stop the team in green from giving everything they’ve got.

The ball hits the far wall and comes soaring back, thanks to the Ravens goalie. Dream jumps to catch it before it can fly over his head and it lands safely in the soft net of his striker racket. He looks around for opponents and takes 7 steps of his allowed 10, and passes it to George who is open further down the court. George catches the ball, then twists and passes the ball across to Punz. His mark collides with him a moment later and George goes sliding, his arm out with his racket to help him balance. Punz runs down the court, stops, then throws the ball to Liliana. His mark slams his racket down violently on Punz’s in retaliation. The backliner shakes his head in annoyance and continues running.

Dream is already near the goal by the time it gets to him again. He gets the ball and only has two steps to aim and shoot before a Ravens player crashes into him. Dream hits the ground so hard, he rolls. But, the crowd holds their breath as they watch the ball sail past the goalie and into the back of the net. The siren glows red and all Dream can hear is his ears ringing. Sapnap runs up to Dream and helps him up, congratulating him in the process. Dream looks around confused before realising he scored a goal. The entire team rushes towards him, cheering and laughing.

“Good job, Dream! Let’s do that again!” Coach yells. Dream’s surprised he can hear him over the crowd.

The game starts again with Falcons serve. The Falcons’ are fired up and back in the game, even if it is 6-1. And as soon as George throws Dream the ball, he dodges his mark and flies up the court, unguarded and ready to score again. The Ravens’ goalie isn’t prepared for Dream’s throw and misses the ball as it’s thrown at him, making the score 6-2. The crowd gets impossibly louder and Dream looks up into the sea of people to spot you. The smile on your face gives Dream newfound confidence and then everybody is back at their starting positions.

The Ravens are angry, there’s no doubt about that. Sapnap gives the striker a boyish smirk and a snide comment, which Dream can’t hear. He guesses it pisses them off because the second the ball is thrown from the Ravens dealer, the striker goes straight for Sapnap. The younger boy is thrown against the wall of the court and continues to spit insults at the Ravens player, despite his situation.

“Sapnap! Get out of there, bro!” Punz yells, collecting the ball from the ground and throwing it back to Gabby to hit up the court. Sapnap laughs and shakes his head, his lips still moving. Dream sees, out of the corner of his eye, the Ravens player drawing his fist back before punching Sapnap in the nose. The Falcons fans in the crowd start booing at the unnecessary violence and the referees unlock the doors to intervene. Dream meets Sapnap’s eye and raises his eyebrows when he sees Sapnap laughing, blood dripping into his mouth and coating his teeth. The referees pull the Ravens striker off of Sapnap and give him a red card for throwing the first punch. The Ravens fans boo and start swearing at the referees, but their cries are drowned out by the sound of the home crowd.

Due to the incident, the teams are to go back to their positions to start the serve again. Now that the Ravens are down a player, Dream knows the ways to get around them, especially when Sapnap is unguarded.

“Dream!” Sapnap calls when Dream catches the ball. He spins around a little too quickly, loses his balance slightly but throws the ball anyway. As he watches it fly across the court, Dream feels his entire body get crushed against the wall of the court. His head rebounds off the wall from the impact. There’s a heavy weight that pushes him into it more and he can’t breathe. Dream flails his arms, drops his racket, and attempts to push the Ravens player off of him. There’s no doubt that Dream hit his head again. He knows he did. A helmet can only do so much.

Dream can only hear ringing in his ears as he feels the Raven get pulled off—and it isn't the same ringing he heard when he scored the Falcons first goal. He tries to scramble to his feet before he crumples to the ground. Dream blinks a few times, disorientated, but still fails to gain a conscious mind. His eyes start to close when he feels his helmet being tugged off and then someone’s slapping his cheeks. “Stay awake, Dream.”

Dream can barely hear the sound of someone slamming their fists against the plexiglass behind him and then the person in front of him nods. He thinks it’s Sapnap. “Come on, bro, it’s only a few steps and then you can lie down.”

Dream’s head lols to the side, eyes half-open and a lazy grin on his mouth. “Sappy,” he slurs. Sapnap lets out a laugh for the first time since his best friend got knocked out and smiles at him.

“Yeah, dude, it’s me. We’re gonna get you fixed up, okay?” Dream nods before he closes his eyes. “No, no, Coach!” The world fades out around him and Dream falls unconscious.

—

The light is so bright above him. Dream closes his eyes again after he opens them and groans softly. The sound is almost too quiet for you to hear, but you do. And when you do, you lift your head from where you were resting on the edge of his bed. The chair you are sitting in is uncomfortable, so when you stand up, your muscles ache. “Hey, baby, how do you feel?”

If Dream was fully conscious, he would have blushed immensely at the sound of the pet name, but for the moment, he feels like he’s in a dream. His mouth is dry and he struggles to keep his eyes open for longer than 3 seconds. “You don’t have to talk, it’s okay.”

Dream feels pressure on his hand and moves his head slightly to see that your fingers are wrapped around his. You hear him murmur something, and lean down.

“Hi,” He whispers. You furrow your eyebrows at his greeting and look him in the eyes.

“That’s all I get? Hi?” You let out a breathy laugh and use your other hand to brush his hair away from his forehead. But, Dream can’t feel you on his skin. He hesitantly lifts his other hand to touch his forehead and feels a bandage.

“Surprise! Another scar,” You joke. Although, Dream can hear the edge to your words. Your smile disappears from your lips and then you sigh. Your eyes scan over Dream’s face, noting the dull green of his eyes and the pale of his skin. “Oh, Dream. I was so worried about you.”

Dream opens his eyes from when they had fallen closed again and sees the silent tears dripping down your cheeks. “It’s okay, I’m here, I’m fine,” His voice is scratchy and the sound of the word ‘fine’ does not sound fine. You smile sadly at him, then huff, wiping at your face.

“I almost forgot…” You trail off, rounding the bed to the other side to pick up a bowl and a cotton ball. You sit on the edge of the bed and dip the cotton into the antiseptic. You turn Dream’s head slowly to get a better look at the cut on his cheek. You drag the medicine over the gash and watch as Dream doesn’t flinch.

Once you are done, you place both of the things on the side table of the medical bay in the Falcons home stadium and look at Dream. He gives you a lazy smile and his fingers twitch against yours. “Thank you.”

You nod, eyes wide. “Of course, you know I’ll always be here to clean you up.”

Dream can feel his skin heating up. You get a concerned look on your face when you see the rise in pink on his cheeks. “Oh my god, are you heating up? Do you have a fever?”

He wants to laugh so badly. “Y/n, I’m okay. It’s not a fever. I’m blushing,” Dream says bashfully.

You realise why and then grow embarrassed. “Oh.”

The air isn’t tense, but there’s something there and you want to stick around to find out what it is.

Feedback is always appreciated xx

#exyplayer!dream #exy!dream au #dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken imagine #mcyt x reader #dreamwastaken imagines #mcyt imagine #mcyt imagines #dream smp imagine #dream smp imagines #dream smp x reader #dreamwastaken au #dream x reader #dream imagine #all for the game au #aftg x dream au #exy player!dream #dwt x reader #dream smp au

[weareallstoriesintheend]

As Long As You Need (Reader x Adam Sackler)

Summary: Adam and Reader are hookup buddies. Adam gets concerned that you don't want to see him for a few weeks and comes over to check on reader. Reader is struggling with anxiety/depression and Adam comforts them through a panic attack.

Warnings: Depression, anxiety & panic attacks

Note: This was the fic I wrote for the Summer 2021 @adcuficexchange for LondonID!🥰 I hope this fic is something that resonates with people, I know mental health is a vast and personal subject but I hope something hits home. Even if it's just some beautiful care from our favourite gremlin 💕

The light of the day was fading slowly and the grey cover of dusk was slipping its way into the room. You lay in bed, head tucked against the pillows, body exhausted with the expense of the energy anxiety was taking from you. You felt empty and yet full to the brim, your mind weighed so heavy that you could barely move most days. The second you heard the loud thumping knocks on your front door you jolted as if waking up from a bad dream.

“Kid you in there?” Adams voice came, muffled by the thick wood of the doors between you, booming through your silence. You realised in that moment that you hadn’t spoken to him or seen him for a while and as someone who was a pretty regular occurrence in your life it suddenly felt strange to hear his voice after such a long time, you pulled your phone out from under the pillow and unlocked it. Your eyes screwed shut at the blinding light, but peeking through your eyelashes you checked your messages. Your last text to him had been nearly 3 weeks ago, then the page was just filled with him texting you again and again. All of which, in the haze of your mind, you had ignored. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see him; you craved his cheeky smile, soft hair and adorable galaxy of freckles that smattered his skin. It was just the thought of having to explain the tornado that was tearing you apart that felt like a crushing pressure you couldn’t bear. Basic daily life was enough, sometimes too much, so anything on top of that you had shut out.

You curled yourself into the sheets a little more, pulling them around your shoulders. Although they were soft cotton the brush of them across your overly sensitive skin felt like sandpaper dragging over a raw exposed nerve. You stayed as still as possible whilst his knocks continued to echo through your apartment.

In a way you wondered if you had any obligation to him at all, you guys just hooked up every now and again after meeting at a mutual friends birthday party a year or so ago. Nothing serious, no dates, just fucking. He scratched an itch for you so you didn’t have to brave the dating world that daunted you. He was fun, he made you laugh but he didn’t pressure you to spend any more time with him than coming over to hold you face down into your mattress allowed.

The knocks turned to bangs of a fist and you pulled your blanket over your head, maybe he’d just go away if he thought you weren’t home. Your body thrummed with the disturbance of your comfortable silence and it made you uneasy. A slight nausea rippled through your throat. “I know you’re home” his voice bellowed, you closed your eyes and didn’t respond. “Open the fucking door kid” he shouted, he didn’t sound angry but you couldn’t quite make out the tone. He’d never used it before around you that’s for sure, he almost sounded worried. Then there was more thumping on the door, “Kid, for fucks sake your sweet old lady neighbour is looking at me like I’m fucking nuts, open the door”

You sighed and slung yourself off the bed onto your feet. The rush of movement made your head spin; your muscles and joints ached with a lack of energy. You tiptoed out of the bedroom and into the main room of your apartment, hoping that he couldn’t hear your deliberately soft padding footsteps. With your eyes trained on the door you didn’t notice the chair sticking out from the table and you bumped it as you passed. You froze dead still waiting to see if he’d heard it.

“I can hear you rustling around in there. Just open the fucking door and talk to me”

“I don’t want you to see me” you replied hesitantly, not raising the volume of your voice too high knowing he could hear you through the door now. The croak of your voice finally speaking was crackly and broken. “Why not?”

“I… I don’t look great” you looked at yourself in the reflection of the painting hanging on the wall. In the glass you could just about see yourself looking back; your hair was greasy and dishevelled, your eyes were bloodshot, rimmed with red and dark circles created a deep shadow underneath them. You suddenly balked at how awful you actually looked, you hadn’t showered in a few days and it really showed. Your face looked kind of gaunt with the limited food and sleep you’d given yourself for the last few weeks, mind always racing with one thought after another. The racing thoughts only leaving space for the basics of working at your laptop for 8 hours a day and activities to numb your mind till a restless bedtime. “Are you kidding?” he scoffed, thumping his fist once against the door, “I’ve seen you sweating, crying and covered in my cum… I don’t think you looking a little messy is going to be bother me” You cringed at how loud he was talking and in your embarrassment you frantically pulled the door open, “Jesus Adam don’t say that so loud my neighbours will hear y-“ you paused mid-sentence when you saw how he was looking at you. He was shocked and trying to hide it but his eyes were wide with sympathy. You instantly went to close the door on him again but he put his overly large foot in the way.

“Nope, no way! You opened it, I’m like a vampire, you’ve got to let me in now” he smiled cheekily. You sighed and let go of the door walking away from him. “Listen I don’t know why you’re here” you said, voice trailing behind you as you made your way to the couch hearing him step inside and close the door behind him, “I don’t really think I’m in any fit state to be fucking anyone” “I’m not here to fuck you” he retorted, for some reason that kind of stung. “Then why are you here?” you said, nestling into the couch cushions as he firmly placed himself standing in front of you. Adam was staring down at you with that intense glare he always seemed to have and you squinted your eyes, hurting due to the light from the windows, to look up at him. “Why am I here? You haven’t talked to me for like… three weeks. What the fuck do you think I’m doing here? I thought I was going to find you rotting in the bathtub or some shit” You rolled your eyes “I’m fine” “Oh right this…” he paused, flailing his arms at the quite frankly disgusting state of your living room, “… this is ‘fine’?” “This is as good as it gets” you muttered under your breath. He scoffed and you looked up at him, you took a second to take him in. He’d clearly run here, the beads of sweat were trailing gently down his temples and had matted the curly little front pieces of his hair. The outfit he was wearing, a dark blue cut off tank top, grey knee length shorts and heavy tan work boots over cream socks, would look kind of uncoordinated on anyone else but something about Adam always just… made sense.

“What do you mean?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“Nothing” you rolled your eyes again, “You know you can just go right? I don’t even know why you’re bothering”

“What are you talking about kid? I wanted to make sure you were alright. You went all ghost on me and I was worried about you”

“Worried?” now it was your turn to scoff, you could feel the sickening panic rolling around inside your stomach and you needed him to leave.

“Yeah kid… worried” Adams voice suddenly had a tinge of anger behind it and it made the panic swirl harder around inside you.

“Well I don’t need you to worry about me. That’s not your job, your job is to fuck me and leave. And you’re good at that. So you do your job and I’ll do mine”

“Not true” he retorted, face screwed up a little against the harshness of your words.

“You were the one that set those rules Adam” you replied, frustration tainting your words “You don’t need to act like you give a shit”

“Hey when I commit, I really commit” “Commit to what?” you shouted, losing a little of your patience as your ears started to ring and the blood pumped through your body like a steady beat of music. “Commit to you!” he yelled back “We may not be dating or whatever but when I want someone in my life I work for that. Clearly you don’t…we are supposed to be fucking friends after all!”

He had every right to be mad, you had barely treated him like a human being lately and the wash of guilt made your heart start to jump in its rhythm. You could feel the brush of heat up the back of your neck and your pulse thudding in your ears. You shook your head wishing away what you knew was happening; the panic of the overwhelming sense of everything was rising up from your toes. He couldn’t see you like this, it was too embarrassing.

Although your breath was basically coming out like gasps you looked up at him and firmly said “Please leave”

He shook his head “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me why you’re avoiding me. Did I do something?” You stood up from your seat on the couch but didn’t get very far, your body felt over stimulated and you couldn’t get your mind clear enough to decide where to go to escape him. So you started pacing back and forth, hands clenching and unclenching at your sides.

“Adam please just go” this time your voice betrayed you even further, the tell-tale break in your speech giving away the tears that had begun to brim in your eyes. You pushed the base of your palms harshly into your eye sockets, rubbing away the tears. “Hey hey hey” he said softly, reaching out for your wrists and you flinched back, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“Please just leave!” you shouted, panicked breath coming out of you in heavy pants. “I can’t breathe” you whispered to yourself turning away from him. Your tears, now virtually unstoppable, cascaded down your cheeks as the panic truly set in. You swayed slightly as you began to feel light-headed.

“Tell me what you need” you heard him say, but his voice felt like it was miles away from you even as he stood mere steps away with his hands outstretched slightly in your direction.

This was it, you were officially going crazy. You couldn’t even handle a simple conversation or own up to your shitty actions. You stole a glance at Adam, his eyebrows were pulled down with concern watching you and a wave of nausea rolled up into the back of your throat. He was going to think you were insane after this, this was the last time you were ever going to see him and this was how you were acting. You felt your cheeks heat up, burning with panic and embarrassment. One of the only things that kept you afloat, the only thing had made you happy as of late, was going to walk out. You could imagine him telling his friends about the crazy chick he used to fuck on the side, “She just totally flipped out on me, honestly man fucking nuts” you could practically hear his voice already, full of mocking vitriol towards you.

Then you really started to hyperventilate, chest aching with the weight of your gasps, but something in the back of your mind gave you respite… that wasn’t Adam. That wouldn’t be how he would act. He was kind. You glanced up at him as your hands began to shake violently.

“I-I’m sorry” you stuttered out, you felt your body collapse underneath you as the room began to spin around you. He dove forward to catch you as your body buckled down to the hard wooden floor.

“Come here” his voice was gentle and barely audible to you but he held you tight, this time you didn’t flinch and he quickly gathered you into his arms in the fear you would move away from him again. “It’s just a panic attack, you’re going to be okay. I’m right here, it’ll be over soon” As he pulled you into his chest, seating himself on the floor with you, he stretched his long legs out around you so his whole body was caging you against him. Your breath instantly started to slow down as the warmth and closeness of him soothed you. He didn’t speak too much, he just calmed your mind with hushed whispers of “Shhh” and “You’re going to be okay”.

You clung yourself to him, vibrating with the force of the trembles that were wracking your body. Your teeth chattered in your head causing you to screw your eyes closed in pain. Your fingers wound tight in his shirt as your breathing finally began to even out. Your body released some of the tension that was winding your muscles tight and you leant a little more into his chest.

“H-how did you know?” you stammered, voice barely above a whisper as you regained your breath.

He shrugged “My mom used to get them… and my sister for a while. I’m used to it.” he smiled softly, lips merely twitching up at the edges as he gauged your reaction. He stroked his large hand through your tangled hair, massaging his fingers over your scalp as your body relaxed and you sighed. “Better?” he asked, placing a careful kiss to the top of your head. You nodded, the scent of his cologne and sweat drifted over you as you kept yourself gripped against him, not quite ready to be moved from his warmth.

“You didn’t have to do this” you croaked, looking up at him now. He shook his head and rolled his eyes jokingly, a smirk coming over his lips as he does it.

“You know we don’t just have to fuck right? We can be more than that.” he chuckled, holding your face gently with one hand, “We can also talk, we are friends right?”

You nodded again, looking up at him with wide glassy eyes. He kissed the tip of your nose and you scrunched it.

“Listen maybe we’re just friends for a little while. We can… get lunch or walk through the park when the weather gets better. Whatever you want” he shrugged, you smiled at the level of effort he was so clearly trying to give. Adam hated stuff like that, lunches out and walks in the park; he often said how trivial it all seemed to him. He liked to be at home in his own little world. So the fact he was offering to make you feel better was more than enough to bring a smile to your face. You nodded and giggled when he pumped the air with his fist in celebration.

“And you know, if you need someone to come with you to therapy or whatever I can do that too” he mumbled clearly unsure how you would respond, “You still go to therapy right? I know you mentioned it a while ago and I figured-“ he began to ramble nervously. You pressed your hand into his chest and nodded.

You pushed yourself up a little and placed a kiss to his cheek, “That would help, thank you”

He shuffled a little and rose to get to his feet before extending a hand out to you. You clasped your hand across his, so much smaller in his grasp, and used his body weight to pull yourself up on unsteady legs. He wrapped his arms around you a little bit, his body hunched over yours protectively.

“But first, you need food… and a shower” he paused for a moment, making small grunt-like thinking noises as he looked you over. Then all at once he dipped and gathered you up in his arms, you squealed loudly and wrapped your arms around his neck “What are you doing?” you protested through unsure giggles.

He didn’t say anything but started walking towards your bathroom. He kicked the door open with the toe of his boot and swung his arms so that your head just missed the door frame. He propped you, sitting upright, on the edge of your bathtub before reaching up and turning on your shower. He gestured for you to stand as the water began heating up behind you. Soft clouds of steam quickly started to rise up around the room and he nodded with satisfaction. He tentatively tugged at the base of your oversized-hoodie and you raised your arms above your head. He slipped your hoodie off in one swift motion and dropped it to the floor beside you both. You self-consciously crossed your arms over your now bare chest and he smiled down at you. He placed a kiss to your forehead before kneeling down to wriggle your panties off your hips and down your legs. You shuffled shyly, despite the fact he’d seen you naked so very many times, and stepped out of them as he reached your ankles. He tossed them on top of your hoodie, placing a tender kiss to your stomach as he knelt in front of you, before standing back up to his full height “I’ll get you fresh stuff and wash those” he noted, almost to himself as he spun you by your shoulders so you had your back to him. “You get in there” he pointed to the steady stream of hot water creating billows of steam in the small bathroom, “And I’m going to make you some soup, you still have cans of that chicken one you like?” You nodded once and he placed a firm kiss to your shoulder. With his hands on your waist he placed a final kiss to the top of your head before his touch left you completely. You smiled at his constant need to show you physical care, it was like he understood how even simple affection could heal even the worst of the pain your brain could throw at you. You turned to look over your shoulder as he left the room; like he sensed your hesitation he stopped and turned to look at you with a sweet smile…

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise. I’ll stay with you as long as you need me too”

#adam sackler x reader #adam sackler #tw:mental health #adam sackler x you #adcu #adcu fic #adcu summer fic exchange #adcu fic exchange

[eunoiaflow3r]

i hate u, i love u // spencer reid x fem!reader

spencer reid x reader

aaron hotchner x reader

part one - part two

a/n: did i damn near put this entire song in this fic? yes, yes i did i’m so sorry....highly unedited.

how was your guys’ holiday?

warning(s): language. angst. fluff....

word count: 2.6k

request(ed): yes.

summary: old things try to get fixed, while new feelings and places...arise and get mixed.

(wtf am i dr. seuss now??)

——————————————&———————————

feeling used, but i’m still missing you. and i can’t see the end of this, just wanna feel your kiss, against my lips

and now all this time, is passing by.... but i can’t seem to tell you why. it hurts me every time i see you realize how much i need you...

Seeing Spencer and actually letting all of that out did a number on you. You apologized to Aaron countless times and he said it was okay countless times but you still felt so bad. He didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve your drama, and not to mention how embarrassing it’s been. You felt like you ruined his whole night. It was supposed to be fun and yet you didn’t have any. He said he did but you know Hotch didn’t.

You’d have to make it up to him somehow soon but you didn’t know how. How are you supposed to fix this? Any of this??

It feels like you’re being sucked into the eye of a tornado little by little and you just can’t get out. It feels like everyone else is safe on the ground feet planted and they’re all just staring at you and laughing. Staring and not helping.

Your chest hurt. You hated feeling like this. So helpless...and stuck. You were stuck and not ready to fix it...well...part of it. You could still fix one thing. You didn’t have to be stuck here. Here in this small apartment with no room for anything let alone breathe. You needed space. You needed change. You needed control. Everything is spinning in circles and there’s nothing you can do about it. You can’t stop it.

So why not do something that could help you? That you’ve been meaning to do but never had the time for?

Apartment searching. Well...bigger apartment searching.

Where you were staying now was a studio apartment. You loved the open concept except for how small it was. You just need room.

Before...

“I like it here. It’s so small and cute.”

You could tell cute was a foreign word to Spencer when it came to describing a building. But he was trying. You thought he was cute.

“Thanks Spencer but I’m thinking something different. Maybe another bedroom for a roommate...or just a bigger one for y’know...another person.”

You never really brought up the idea of moving in together before. Sure, it’d be easier...his job was nearby, and there was a bus stop at the end of the street, and there was you....so his reaction kind of put you...off.

“Roommate sounds good. One of your friends maybe? Although I wouldn’t want her to y’know...interrupt us.” He had that cute seductive tone to his voice but he wasn’t sounding very cute and seductive.

You weren’t going to argue. “Yeah...a roommate. Who do you think I should ask?” you paused. “Sara or Malia?”

Spencer was quiet for a moment, like he was thinking. “Malia maybe?”

You didn’t have a friend named Malia.

And that’s what hurt the most you think. The fact that you still thought about him 24/7 even though what you had with him wasn’t perfect. You thought it was before..you thought he was before..but now you’re realizing nothing about it was perfect but at least it was something. Now you have nothing.

It was only the afternoon so you decided to look for some places. You found 3 places suitable for what you were looking for. All 3 were good sizes, good prices, and a good amount away from your job and college. You felt almost lucky. This felt almost too easy.

Until you saw the first two places in person. They were okay, but not really what you were looking for.

The last place though...the place was great, the location was great, the neighborhood was great, hell even the yard. Hell, you’d have no use for it, you didn’t have a kid but it was still a nice looking yard. You could tell that someone in the apartment, hopefully your new neighbor, took great care of the gardens.

You looked around at the surrounding mix of apartments and houses (mostly houses) and saw 2 little kids playing in the house 2 houses over. One of them looked like Jack. It couldn’t be, right? Hotch’s house wasn’t over here.

Nevertheless you watched for a few seconds and it was Jack. You decided to go over and say hi.

Jack stopped playing and immediately ran towards you.

“Y/N!!” He grinned. You got down to his level and hugged him back just as enthusiastically.

“Hey Jackie! Whatcha doin?” He only let you call him that. Only you.

“Sleepover. This is Sam. It’s almost time for Ana to drop me off at home though.”

You said hi to Sam and asked if Ana was his mom. She was and as soon as you told Sam your name, Ana came out of the house and waved you over.

“Hey, I’m Y/N. Friend of Jack’s and Hotch.”

She smiled. And shook your hand.

“I’m Ana. I’ve heard about you! Jack talks about you quite a lot.”

You and Ana talked for a while. She seemed like a really amazing person. If you end up getting the place you could see you and her becoming great friends, and since she seemed really busy you offered to take Jack home. She protested but you insisted. It wasn’t like you were doing much anyway. The landlord had already left and you were just going to go home anyway.

On the way to Hotch’s you bought Jack his favorite ice cream. You couldn’t help it.

The whole car ride Jack’s conversation thankfully distracted you but when you got to his house you couldn’t help but remember that night and how embarrassed you felt.

Seeing Hotch only made it worse. Especially since he wasn’t wearing his work clothes- just a shirt and sweatpants, and you couldn’t help but look because he looked incredibly.....good. He looked so great and you were so mad at yourself for how that night ended with him. You were supposed to be having fun and neither of you did.

He hugged you when you got to the door anyway. You explained to him what happened- even the apartment searching while he invited you in for coffee.

A whole year with Spence and he never invited you in. Ever.

Do you miss me like I miss you? Fucked around and got attached to you Friends can break your heart too And I’m always tired but never of you

If I pulled a you on you, you wouldn’t like that shit I put this reel out, but you wouldn’t bite that shit I type a text but then I never mind that shit I got these feelings but you never mind that shit

“Mom, please, I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong.”

Your mom gave you a look over her mug that said, ‘Do I look like I’m dumb?’ And she wasn’t. Perhaps you weren’t any good at hiding your feelings. Could everyone tell?

You were doing better now.

It’s been a month? Maybe two.

Either way it’s been a while and you weren’t as hurt as you were before. Some nights you woke up heart aching, tears falling, but you aren’t as bad as you were those first few weeks.

Truth is, you missed Spencer. You spent those weeks blaming yourself and wondering why you why you?

But you accepted that you weren’t ready for that answer. A part of you had forgiven Spencer. A part.

You were still heartbroken. You were still angry and hurt. But you’ve been trying to move on. In fact, you’d be moving entirely. Yesterday you finished all the paperwork with your new landlord. You were going to finish packing after visiting your mom.

“Momma I’m fine there’s just a lot going on right now.”

She wouldn’t accept that answer. She persisted you told her what was wrong. So you did. You told her about Spencer...and about Hotch...

Aaron.

You had been spending some weekends with him. Some were alone, just the two of you, and other times it was the three of you. Him, Jack, and you. Whenever you thought about Hotch you had the feeling in your stomach you got whenever you heard from Spencer.

But you still have that feeling for Spencer.

Things were so confusing right now - you weren’t sure if you wanted to move on from Spencer. You didn’t want to rush in with Aaron either though. That’d hurt the both of you.

Last weekend...

“Y/N you cannot tell me you think New Girl is better than Friends.”

Aaron was in a gray shirt and sweatpants while you were in relatively the same. You both sat together on his couch each a cup of coffee in your hands. You had promised you’d help him shop with Jack for new clothes and you had just agreed to stay the night since it had gotten so late.

“Oh a hundred percent. New Girl is way better.”

Hotch laughed.

“Friends is a classic. There wouldn’t be a New Girl without Friends.”

“There wouldn’t be a Friends without Living Single Aaron.”

He rolled his eyes but conceded. “True but still. Friends is better.”

You hadn’t been that happy in a while. You were breathing...you were living. Out in the open. Unbidden.

You ever wonder what we could have been? You said you wouldn’t and you fucking did Lie to me, lie with me, get your fucking fix Now all my drinks and all my feelings are fucking mixed

Always missing people that I shouldn’t be missing Sometimes you gotta burn some bridges just to create some distance I know that I control my thoughts and I should stop reminiscing But I learned from my dad that it’s good to have feelings

There was a bottle of liquor in your hand

You would have gone to the bar but you were too sad for it. You didn’t have the will.

Earlier today you decided that you should get a muffin from the coffee shop and see how Em was doing. Right when you got to the door, who was in the window caught your eye.

Spencer.

Spencer and JJ.

Laughing, and eating, and kissing...

In the open. Out in public.

Were you just not good enough? Was that it? Could you not understand him because you didn’t work in the BAU? Was what you had all one sided?

Unanswered questions and half a bottle later you were passed out on your couch crying.

You thought you were over it for sure this time. But it still fucking hurts. Is keeping your heart open waiting for him even worth it?

The next morning you took a hot shower. The hottest shower you could handle. You were hungover, and you felt like shit but you still had to pack the rest of your things to move. You still had to move.

Your speakers were on the highest level and your music was so loud you didn’t hear the door knock. You only screamed when you felt someone behind you.

It was Aaron.

“Jesus christ!!” You went to turn down the music.

“You could have killed me!”

“Yes I very well could have!” His arms were crossed. He was upset but still in a playful mood. You could tell. “I could have been a serial killer, you have to lock your doors!”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, okay, I’ll lock my doors next time.”

He nodded approval as you went to the refrigerator to get him a bottle of water.

“What’s going on?”

“Oh I didn’t tell you?” How had that slipped your mind?

He shook his head.

“I’m moving.”

“You’re moving?” He looked disappointed.

“Yeah not far. A few houses down from Ana actually.”

“Oh good.” He said relieved.”

After that, he decided he wanted to help you. It was nice not being alone even though you told him he didn’t have to stay. He wanted to.

He even helped you transfer the boxes to your new apartment. You didn’t know Aaron had a voice on him...but he did.

“We built this city!” he sang/shouted.

“We built this city on rock and -“

“We built this city!” he answered.

“We built this city on rock and -“

“Rollllllllll” you sang together.

You giggled when the song was over and he grabbed your hand for the rest of the drive. You didn’t pull away. It felt too nice. It felt too right.

After helping you put your boxes into your next place it was time for him to head home. He told you that he could stay and help some more if you wanted but you could tell he was tired. You were tired. You told him you’d call if you needed any more help.

He made you promise you would because he knows you won’t if you feel like you absolutely can do it yourself even when you shouldn’t.

You promised.

On his way out there was a moment where you could have kissed him. Where you were saying goodbye and you were in the doorway and you were close enough to...but you didn’t. You weren’t ready. He knew you weren’t ready. He knew.

The feelings you have for Hotch keep growing but the feelings you have for Spencer stay the same. Spencer used to be your everything. But you weren’t his. You needed someone who would put you first. Well...close to first. Jack should always come first. Always.

You need to come first when it comes to women. Spencer didn’t put you first. Would he ever?

All alone I watch you watch her Like she’s the only girl you’ve ever seen You don’t care you never did You don’t give a damn about me

Yeah, all alone I watch you watch her She is the only thing you ever see How is it you never notice That you are slowly killing me?

Your phones ringtone was blaring and when you opened your tired eyes to read the time on your bedside table it read ‘3 AM.’ Who would call this late? Or...early? Either way you didn’t check the screen and just decided to click green and put the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” Your voice was groggy and you were a little annoyed to be woken up so early. It’s rude to do that to someone. Especially someone who only went to bed three hours ago.

“Y/N.” It wasn’t a question and it wasn’t in command. It was a sigh of relief followed by sniffles and a hiccup. It was Spencer.

“I didn’t think you’d pick up.” he said.

“You’re lucky I didn’t check my screen I should just -“

The only form of communication you’ve had with him since the incident was a few texts. Dry texts. On both ends.

“No!” he panicked. “Please don’t hang up please, please, I - I couldn’t sleep.”

You shut your eyes in frustration. “You called me at three in the morning because you couldn’t sleep?”

“No, I - I’m apologizing because I couldn’t sleep, no I - I’m apologizing because I was - I don’t know -“

“Spencer I really don’t have time for this. I have things to do tomorrow. What’s today Tuesday? We’ll have coffee or something Friday, okay?”

There was silence on the other end for a few seconds. “I have a date, no I mean plans Friday..uhm, Sunday?”

“Sunday.”

And you hung up the phone. You didn’t mean to sound bitter, you didn’t but seriously? You were actually willing to see him for once - maybe a decision your unconscious, pining, mind made - but still, and he can’t because of a date? A date?

With JJ no doubt. Of course it was JJ. It’s always been JJ. Every single time. “I can’t today Y/N JJ needs,” or “JJ called I gotta go,” or “Shoot I’m sorry I know we had plans but JJ -“

Will it always be JJ? Will she always be number one? Has she always been number one and you just never realized it? Have you been the girl he just hung out with because he couldn’t with her?

A few months ago...

“I bought chinese.” You grinned.

“Smells so good.” Spencer took the bags from your hands and kissed you on the cheek.

Spencer picked the movie this time since you picked it last time. He was sitting in the middle of the couch while you had your legs draped across his. Occasionally he’d bring his hand down to rub your legs.

Things were fine. Things were content. Until his phone rang.

“Y/N, It’s JJ I have to go.”

“What does she need?” you ask genuinely worried.

“Nothing I don’t think. I just gotta go.”

I hate you, I love you I hate that I love you You want her, you need her And I’ll never be her

———————————-—&—————————————-

i literally have no idea what this is i -

team hotch or spence?

if you have any ideas or scene ideas PLEASE tell me

i’m really trying on this happy ending thing

a spencer apology/talk scene is cominggg

i’m liking the idea of two endings? maybe?

spencer tag list: @hotchsbabygirl @pinkdiamond1016 @thefemalestorywriter @sizzlingclamturtlesludge @samyilf123 @mathchampagne @studywithrosie01 @reniescarlett @drreidsconverse @eveliiinnn27 @bweakmybonez

comments tag list: @yeah-just-ignore-me-thanks @geekgirleve @jhiddles03 @carlgrxmes @dreatine @meowiemari @thedaughterofhotchniss @we-are-dreamers42 @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @silverchains9182 @realalpacorn @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @matthew-gray-g @minami97 @mgg-th1996 @peculiarinsomniac @secondratecomplaint @fallinallinmendes @fantastic-fans @eldahae @psych0crybaby @tclaerh @ashwarren32 @spenciegoob @mustbeaweasleyginger @abschaffer2

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid x oc #spence reid #spencer reid headcannon #spencer reid x reader insert #i hate u i love you #i hate u i love u spencer reid

[hansoulo]

lead me to the promised land

part two of “Pillar of Salt”

Pairing: Boba Fett/Princess!Reader (she/her pronouns, no Y/N)

Warnings: NSFW - language, kissing, heavy petting, dom!Boba, gagging/choking, marks and bruises of the Spicy nature, hand and finger kink, allusions to canon-typical violence

Word Count: 2k

Gif Credit: (x) by @/tylowen

A/N: good day gremlins i am not very good at updating but i bring u some fun times as penance pls forgive me

༓ series masterlist ༓

7:00 PM: T-MINUS 14 HOURS UNTIL IMPERIAL CONVOY DEPARTURE

You were used to being moved around by other people, poked and prodded and lifted up so that stays could be tied or burdensome headpieces be attached to your head. Shuffled around to smile and be proper, sedated by heavy skirts and perfume. It was a fact of life.

Your dress was unlaced by the mechanical hands of an attendant, the change happening quickly and without fond regard from any party. It was early evening now and the sky peeled itself into a burnt orange. If you closed your eyes, you could almost taste citrus.

“Careful, please,” you whispered with a slight wince as the woman’s thin fingers brushed against your neck, both of your reflections cast warm in the mirror you now stood in front of. They were almost-bruises. Little ghost flower petals. Delicate and pretty, trailing behind your neck and not quite noticeable.

The woman only nodded. Servants weren’t ones to ask questions.

 ⫸ ———————————————————————————— ⫷

3:25 PM: T-MINUS 17 HOURS AND 35 MINUTES UNTIL IMPERIAL CONVOY DEPARTURE

The world seemed to tip on its axis, spinning too fast and not at all. It’d only been a minute, maybe two, but Boba’s words hung out to dry in the summer air and there was nothing else to do but wait for the actions to fulfill themselves. It shouldn’t have been as easy as it was to let him keep kissing you, but you only broke away to warn in a jolted, harsh whisper when his touch became too sharp. “Don’t leave any marks.”

“Are you commanding me?” Boba sneered, his voice slightly cruel as his gloved thumbs rubbed circles into your hip bones. You didn’t bother opening your eyes to look at him, letting his mouth skid over your jaw. Your answering yes or no wouldn’t make much of a difference. You had the feeling he would do what he liked either way. You had the feeling you’d let him.

It was strange, too fast. Too fast because really, what did you know about Boba? Were you even on first name terms? He’d never called you your name, and you’d never called him his. You’d only known of him for a few weeks. Had truly talked to him for even less than that. Maybe you should stay a capitalized Princess and he should be “Fett.” For the sake of clinicality.

Letting him lift you up and onto his lap was most definitely not clinical. “That depends,” you croaked out after a moment, finally looking at his face in your half-stupor. He’d sat you up to face him and you’d gone with, pliable and keening. Being champagne drunk felt like this; like his eyes coal-black and the way he seemed to take up everything in your mind until there was no room for reason.  You traced over the scar on his forehead with a light mouth, knees bowed to nestle closer and every muscle in your body flexing, tensed as if dripped over with sunshine. “Are you going to listen?”

The smile of a predator was the only answer he gave you.

⫸ ————————————⫷

3:30 PM: T-MINUS 17 HOURS AND 30 MINUTES UNTIL IMPERIAL CONVOY DEPARTURE

Men were vile. They had clammy hands that wandered to your thighs at banquet dinners, slimy mouths when they pressed their lips to your hand in greeting. They were all insufferable and you promised never to go near one as long as you could help it. But promises were a boring thing to keep sometimes. They were much more fun to break.

Boba spoke but it was swallowed in your interlocking mouths, hungry and escalating desperate. You were still sitting with—on?—him, too cowardly to do anything more than kiss and let yourself be felt by the strength of a man’s greed. He tasted like teeth and blood and pink flesh. That was the thing that no one had ever told you about kisses; about men like him. They tasted like broken skin. 

You were eating Boba whole. He was eating you piece by piece. 

You were just kissing. Had been just kissing for what seemed like ages but was actually only fifteen standard minutes. Fifteen standard minutes for your stays to be dragged loose, your lips to be bitten plush, and both sandals abandoned somewhere in the slow scramble. It wasn’t so much desperation as it was just a sheer curiosity goading your irrationality, but the end result was the same: a man squeezing the back of your neck, calling you lovely in the same breath he called you naive. 

“Take them off,” you almost demanded, pulling desperately at his gloves as the warm leather dragged against your fingernails. Learned manners were added in as an afterthought. “Please.”

His one-handed grip on your thigh tightened. It would bruise, likely. Raise questions, definitely. You would have to chalk it up to something else. A fall. A bad trip on a set of stairs. Anything besides what was happening now. The words rumbled against your chest and registered vaguely as a threat. “What was that?”

Huffy and impatient, you answered in a much more keening, undignified echo. “Please, pleasepleaseplease—”

Boba put his fingers in your mouth.

Boba put his fingers in your mouth.

Stuffed was the more apt word. You tried not to think about how he could only fit two of them inside without hurting you. It made you feel temperature-hot, physically burning until your cheeks and your insides twisted into smoldering ash because his fingers breached the alabaster edges of your teeth until they almost gagged you on your own tongue. Boba drew his hand back only when you sighed around it, sedated with fluttering eyes and no longer asking questions. His voice seemed to get deeper, raspier around the unplaceable accent from a place you’d never heard of and probably never would. “Good girl.”

The gloves stayed on. Why they did and why you couldn’t just get him to do what you wanted like everyone else you had no idea, but your frustration quickly ebbed into hazy, sparking pleasure. He called you good. You liked being good. 

Your hips stuttered when they caught on Boba’s trousers and suddenly you were giggling into the thick muscle of his shoulder, quiet and juvenile in your own disbelief. Everything about this was absurd and inappropriate, which formed the basis of your amusement. It was something to play with. Someone. Big and shiny in the most literal sense of the word. 

The hunter let out what could be construed as a laugh but sounded more akin to a growl and two large palms settled again on the soft rise of your hips. “Not here,” he repeated into your jaw, the words that were previously muffled so long ago now clearer. Not here. Which implied a theoretical somewhere other than here where you would possibly, hypothetically be doing more than- “We need to go.”

You should go. You should be pushing him off of you and running and screaming or something equally inflammatory because this was… because his...

“No,” you protested weakly with a slow shake of your head. Your hands curled around his pauldrons and rested there, limp and slightly shaking. “No, they- they didn’t actually need me for anything. My father just had to—oh Maker-” his cuisse plate pressed up hard between the warm softness of your thighs. “—had to send someone out to search for me—” you rutted against his leg once, twice before the arms around your waist tightened again and inhibited any further attempts at movement. You recovered from the loss of friction quickly, instead letting yourself sag into his solid chest as one set of fingertips dragged along your spine. “—’s just a poor look for him not to,” you finished flippantly, barely audible from where your face settled smushed against the creep of stubble on his cheek. “Bad press.”

“I’ve still got places to be, princess. Even if you don’t.”

“Oh I’m terribly sorry,” you tried replying sarcastically as his mouth flattened against the thin skin of your neck. His lips were soft, but they pressed against you like anything but. You tried rolling your hips again but were thwarted. “Am I in the way of a prior engagement?”

“Something like that.”

“Well then,” you flattened your palms against his chest plate and broke away from the seal of his touch. It wasn’t fair. You couldn’t breathe right and looked like you’d been dragged through a sarlacc pit, but he was just sitting there. Watching you. His eyes were hungry though. “Why let me keep you?”  The words were shot through with airy exhales as you were lifted up off the smooth stone. “I was under the impression that you hated me,” you continued into Boba’s neck with hands curled around the dark curls at its nape.

You did think that, before… this. Now you didn’t know what to believe, what his intentions were. Most likely they were the same as yours. Nothing good.

Whatever either of your motivations were, they would have to be paused now. For his mysterious, vague “engagement” and probably for the betterment of your health, because you were certain if you stayed here with him, shielded away from prying eyes and marching men, your heart would burst right out of your chest and through your ears. 

Your legs wobbled slightly when he set you standing on the ground, Boba’s helmet still laying on the fountain’s edge, and you handed it to him with a reverence that belayed the previous minute’s informality. When it was restored to his head you found yourself mourning the loss of his face. You’d been spoiled this last hour. You didn’t like not seeing it anymore.

“I don’t.” was his short reply. What a wordsmith. 

“Aren’t you still my escort?” you huffed, trying to catch your breath. Your chest rose and fell in panted inhales. Wiping haphazardly at your mouth, you leaned over the fountain’s reflection and attempted to compose yourself. The circlet usually pinned neatly to your head lay crooked and loose, glimmering its delicate metals in the daylight as you fussed with it this way and that. The pool of water currently acting as a mirror rippled too much to be of any real use. You pressed your palms to your flushed cheeks and mumbled. “My penitentiary guard, more like.”

Boba turned you around to face him with his hands on your shoulders and you imagined his eyes to still be edged in charcoal embers. The last smudge of lipstick on your chin was rubbed away by a broad thumb and you watched, curious to his intentions and surprised at his actions, when he reached up to right your crown.

“Let’s go, princess.”

You didn’t argue. You’d been sated from rebellion for the time being.

 ⫸ ————————————⫷

4:10 PM: T-MINUS 15 HOURS AND 50 MINUTES UNTIL IMPERIAL CONVOY DEPARTURE

The mercenary stood by the side entrance watching you. 

“You look a mess!” your mother admonished, harried with the exertion of the day’s events that you somehow managed not to be privy to. Apparently there was to be a dinner with the guests leaving the next morning, and apparently you specifically were asked to be present. Both would be dull pieces of information on the best of days but now, after the events that had just transpired, they were positively brain-numbing. 

The queen consort motioned for you to turn around and you complied with a slow spin as your being was examined for minor casualties. Once the woman assured herself of your being alive and unharmed, barely registering the tall figure that stood mere yards away, she allowed herself more frantic inquiries as she shuffled you down the hallway. “What were you doing out there?”

“Oh nothing,” you answered vaguely, eyes trailing as far back towards the doors as they could go without actually turning your head. There was a flash of green armor. “I just wanted to take a walk, is all.” You turned to her and smiled your best attempt at a brilliant, royal-white assurance. “Clear my head.”

#boba fett x reader #boba fett/reader #boba fett x you #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett fanfic #boba fett oneshot #boba fett imagine #boba fett

[sicjimin]

A.N : plugging another draft .. a no sense and plotless fic of Jimin being sick in the early morning TT i hope u like this one. I want to do the request but my brain still won't let me, but i missed being here so maybe I'll put some of my drafts one by one if thats are okay.

TW : emeto

Jimin pants, gripping tightly to the sink as he rides the sloshing in his stomach. He opened his eyes slowly, greeted by brown mess splattering all over the sink, that it contains his dinner yesterday. His stomach twist, he jolts forward, gurgling up more liquid from his body. He gasps quietly before he retches again. Tears fall from his eyes, the water in his stomach is making its way out of his throat. He bends down further, his legs are shaking and he can’t stand anymore if it's not because of Jungkook's tight grip on his waist.

"Oh my god Hyung, you're so sick", Jungkook murmurs, his hand hasn't left the older back since the latter start vomiting. Jimin ducked his head down. It feels like he has been throwing his guts out for so long but why nausea hasn't subsided yet?

" I feel horrible, Kook", he whimpers. His palm pressed to his stomach, attempting to ease the pain. The younger fingers brush through his sweaty hair soothingly.

"I know. but it will pass", Jungkook hums, " Are you done?"

Jimin shakes his head. He didn't want to move yet, not when his stomach still wreaking havoc in there. They stay there in silence. Jimin fighting nausea and Jungkook just watch his hyung in sadness.

Jimin groans, lifting his head when he feels the urge to throw up crawling on him again. His head spins with dizziness. Jungkook looks at his tired boyfriend worriedly, taking a hold of his wrist softly, rubbing circles gently onto Jimin's palm.

"You're okay hyung", Jungkook whispers.

It didn't take long before Jimin's nausea morph into another round of vomit. Jimin's body jolts forward, ducking his head deeper into the sink, as water spurts out from his lips, spraying in a big stream, leaving the older chokes and gasps for air. The next session was more watery liquid, that he managed to get out and over more quickly than he expected. He spits after the last heave tapered down.

Exhausted is underrated to say what Jimin feels right now.

" Kook..", Jimin slurs weakly. His legs start to feel like jelly.

Jungkook holds onto the older tighter, holding Jimin steady.

"You're okay", Jungkook murmurs, "Let's take you to bed, is that alright?"

He doesn't reply. He's too tired to do anything. Jungkook helps the smaller lean on his chest as they make their way to their room. Once inside, the door closes behind them. Jungkook lays Jimin on the bed carefully.

Jimin sighs instantly, curling his body smaller and wrapped the blanket around him completely, drowning his small figure. He felt cold. He actually wanted nothing more than a warm nice shower because he feels gross all over, but he knew that he could possibly puke once more. Not knowing how much is going to happen again even he already feels empty. He didn't want to risk that, so instead, he buries himself beneath the covers.

Jungkook frowns lightly, his hand brushing the other's fringe away from his eyes. Jimin whines.

Jimin opens his eyes and looks at Jungkook , giving a soft smile. Jungkook returns the gesture, placing his hand against Jimin's forehead.

"How do you feel?", he asks, worries evident in his voice.

"I'm fine".

"No", Jungkook scoffs, moving Jimin's bangs away from his forehead, "Throwing up at 5 AM is not fine, Jiminie"

Jimin chuckles, "I know, i'm sorry i wake you up. My initial plan was just to drink some water"

Jungkook huffs, "How do you feel, now?"

"I feel like shit.", Jimin mumbles, " Dizzy, empty, cold .. everything"

"Well, you look like shit"

The younger jokes making Jimin laugh softly, throwing the nearest pillow he could get.

"I'll go get some water for you, then", Jungkook mutters.

Jimin grabs his wrist, " No, stay"

"Hyung, you need water. You haven't got anything in your stomach yet"

"No!", Jimin exclaims, "Don't wanna be alone, please",

Jungkook sighs, he plops himself next to the older, pulling the blanket enough to cover his lower body. Jimin cuddles closer.

"What is it?"

"My head hurts", Jimin mutters.

Jungkook strokes through Jimin's hair, "Your stomach does too".

Jimin nods and rests his chin on Jungkook's chest. It's comfortable.

"Do you want me to rub your stomach?" Jungkook asks softly, smiling softly as Jimin shakes his head.

"I don't think I can handle it yet."

Jimin yawns, burying himself deeper on the older's chest. He's feeling exhausted.

"Okay, then", Jungkook smiles, still running his fingers on the blonde hair, " Rest hyung", he mumbles before he let his body relaxed too, hoping he won't wake up to another episode of sickness.

--

Jungkook is stirred awake when he feels a constant shake on his shoulder.

"Huh?", he sleepily mumbled, his eyes still half-closed, but he's /awake/

" Kook", Jimin's voice is hoarse and Jungkook is fully awake.

"Hyung, what is it? Are you okay?"

Jimin shakes his head, "I think i'm gonna puke-", a gag cutting his words. Jimin squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the wave to pass, "-again. Can you help me to the bathroom? I'm too dizzy to move"

Jungkook nods, helping the elder to sit up. He puts an arm around Jimin's waist, trying to stop any unnecessary movements. Jimin leans heavily against him, Jungkook supports most of his weight, trying not to drop him. Jimin pushes himself up until he can make it into the bathroom. His hand protectively circled around his stomach, keeping it from suddenly lurching out his content.

They are already in the doorway before Jimin's body gives up. The older suddenly heave into his palm, letting out a gut-wrenching moan. Jungkook flinches from the force.

"Hyung hyung .. few steps again, kay? Hold it hyung", Jungkook chatters panicky. Jimin closed his eyes, letting Jungkook guide his body as he's too busy to keep his stomach down. Jimin's stomach churns loudly, he grips his stomach tighter.

Once his eyes catch a sight of toilet, he let his body take control. His stomach didn't waste time, it emptied itself into the toilet.

He has never been a loud puker, but this time his gag and the sound of vomit splashing against the water feel too loud in his ears. It echoes. And it only makes him feel disgusted and his stomach twists further.

Jungkook watches helplessly, rubbing up and down to the older arched back that tenses with every heave he let out.

Jimin lets out a whimper as he feels liquid keep pouring out of his mouth. He hasn't eaten anything yet, why he has so much to throw up?

Jungkook's hands curl more around Jimin's waist protectively, " Hyung .. gosh, you're so sick"

"Nnghh.... I don't like this feeling", Jimin moaned before he back at it again. The sound of retching, coughing and the sound of liquid hitting water fills the room until finally it goes silent. Heaves follow afterward as Jimin falls back into Jungkook's embrace, exhausted.

" Kook ..", Jimin mumbles, his whole body shaking with exhaustion, "Can we.. lay down?", he stammers out weakly.

Jungkook nods, lowering himself slowly so they both sit down on the cold bathroom tile. Jungkook stretched his arms to flush the toilet, wiping Jimin's wet lips as the older seems to out of it. Jungkook sighs. He hates seeing Jimin in pain.

Jungkook pulls Jimin close to him, " Do you want to move to bed again hyung? It's too cold here. Your fever might be worse", he says softly, looking at the pale face of the older.

"I have .. fever?", Jimin mumbled weakly.

Jungkook hums, nodding. " You're warm. But its not too high, i think medicine will do"

Jimin gags at the mention of medicine.

"I don't want to"

Jungkook hushes him, "You have to hyung .. or you won't get better"

Jimin sighs, nodding slightly. He wants to argue, but he couldn't really find his energy within himself to fight.

"We'll get you to bed and some water first then", Jungkook says, guiding the older to stand up.

Jimin groans softly, swaying side to side. He feels lightheaded. Jungkook steadies him on his feet, supporting his entire weight with ease. They make their way to the bedroom slowly, Jimin stumbling slightly as he walks. He can hear Jungkook whispering soothing things to him.

"Almost there Jiminie"

Jungkook helps Jimin to lie comfortably on the bed. Jungkook sits beside him, grabbing a small bottle of medicine from his nightstand and handing it to Jimin. The latter takes it.

"Drink", Jungkook requests softly. Jimin sighs but complies, taking a big sip from the tiny bottle of pills.

Jimin sighs, closing his eyes. His breathing starts to become slower, his muscles relaxing as his breathing gets lighter.

" Kook", Jimin slurs quietly. He stares blearily at Jungkook who is staring back at him. Jimin reaches over, brushing his thumb across Jungkook's palms on his covered blanket thighs. A slight smile gracing his lips.

"Thank you", he whispers gently. " And i'm sorry for waking you up again"

Jungkook shakes his head, "It's okay. I would've woken up either way".

"Still.."

"It's alright", Jungkook assures. He continues running his fingers up and down Jimin's thighs.

A smile spreads across Jimin's lips, "Let's sleep again"

Jungkook agrees, "Yeah, you go to sleep. I will call Jin-hyung or Yoongi-hyung to look for you. I have schedule later"

"It's okay, i can take care-"

"I know you can", Jungkook cut the older words, " But i don't want you to. You barely keep your eyes open!"

Jimin pouts, "Fair point", he mumbled. " Argh, i hate being sick", he groans into his pillow.

"Blame your immune hyung", Jungkook teases.

Shut up", Jimin says with a chuckle. He throws an unamused glance towards Jungkook, who giggles lightly, "Sleep well, Minnie", Jungkook whispers. Jimin hums tiredly, shifting his gaze back to the wall above him.

" Good morning Kook", Jimin mumbled before slipping into his exhaustion.

#bts sickfic #bts emeto #tw emeto #tw vomit #sick!jimin #caretaker!jungkook

[ubemango]

one time, in your room (m)

note: I wrote this after receiving such an enthusiastic response to my virgin!jk drabbles. I really can’t thank you guys enough for expressing interest in this story, it really helped jumpstart lunyua lol 😭😭🥰🥰!!!!!!! I’m happy she’s back:) I would be absolutely nowhere without it heheh. My thank yous are also due to Violet and my crème de la crème for helping me write this back in March--I love you both very, very much!!!!!! Enjoy :D

DISCLAIMER. there’s one scene based off a tweet that I can’t find the link to lol... it’s about getting fingered till u cry. You’ll know when you get there 😭

PAIRING. jeongguk/reader GENRE. romance, college au RATED. M WORD COUNT. 17.3k WARNINGS. alcohol, oral (f receiving), cum shot, fingering, sexting, phone sex/masturbation, face sitting, riding, talks about Babies, jk loving oc A Lot SUMMARY. There are papers to write, and virgins to daydream about. (You can think about Jeongguk’s dick later.)

                                          part 1: emergency tactics

It started five months in.

Jimin probably didn’t mean anything by it. There’s talk and then there’s inebriation, and Jimin slurred roughly between the two like the drunkard he is. But Jeongguk was still hurt and you didn’t know what to do.

“He called me a pussy then told me to fuck one instead,” Jeongguk said under the strobe lights, the plastic ones you buy at the dollar store and you know it’s Hoseok who got them because he’s frugal, not cheap. The couch was itchy under your skirt. “Am I—is it really that bad? Like am I doing this wrong? Am I taking too long, or—”

“No, oh my god. Babe,” you said, and the cooler in your hand found the floor before you cupped his face. He was pouting. “Doing things—like that—it’s—it shouldn’t be something you stress over, okay? Don’t listen to other people. I like you. And Jimin is a whore.”

Jeongguk snorted. You could still see the doubt in his eyes, though. Shiny because he’s tipsy, but that downward droop still there. “You’re the best,” he said as sincere as he could sound.

And he’d left it at that. He got way more drunk though, definitely influenced by his post-teen-pre-adult angst but what’s a 21-year-old supposed to do with ample service of alcohol and an aching heart? You’d left him to it and cleaned the vomit on his shirt after. It was an okay party.

It stayed okay for a bit, too. Jeongguk isn’t an insecure person, but his bouts of uncertainty were getting more and more frequent. Especially when all his friends were naturally horny and really fucking stupid.

“So you’ve been dating for almost eight months and you—still haven’t defiled him,” Jimin says, now absolutely sober and still absolutely dumb.

You can feel Jeongguk’s ears heat up. “Dude.”

Jimin ignores him and turns to you. “Aren’t you like—bored?”

“When will you stop talking,” Jeongguk murmurs through a bite of his burrito bowl.

“I’m not,” you answer Jimin, flipping through another page of a study on birth control. A convoluted piece of shit, as Taehyung put so eloquently, but he left a couple minutes ago for a study group. “And stop bullying him.”

“I’m just shocked,” Jimin continues. “How does someone so hot end up with someone even hotter and like—not immediately participate in procreation. This is a crime!”

“Look.” Your textbook flips closed. “I don’t know what your obsession is with this guy’s dick over here, but it’s mine to worry about.”

“I think you upset her,” Jeongguk says.

“I know what it’s like to be pressured into sex,” you say. You feel Jimin lock up. “Look—sorry, that was baggage and I’m stressed.” Jimin nods. “But seriously? It’s—he’s—Jeongguk’s fine the way he is, alright?”

You taper off. It’s silent save for the milling of other students in the quad, but the air is thick. Sliced through with your anger but you’d rather have this conversation in private, without Jimin and his probing. Unnerving Jeongguk was like lighting the fuse in you, and maybe it was the instinct to preserve whatever purity Jimin keeps insisting on but you’ve never seen your boyfriend so upset about something. It kind of hurt to see him like this.

You get back to taking notes when Jimin talks again. “I’ll go,” he says. “Jeongguk I—”

“It’s fine.” Doesn’t sound like it though because he’s tight-lipped. 

Jimin salutes and sidles away. A bubble of unfinished conversations swells around you.

“Thanks for—that, I guess,” he says.

Your highlighter squeaks against the paper. “Jeongguk.”

“M’yeah?”

“Do you want to have sex with me?”

Maybe that was a bad start because Jeongguk sputters. You think he squawks, too—and he’s definitely fidgeting, lots of cut-off noises in his throat as he tries to say anything coherent. You look at him and he finally takes a breath in. “I—”

“You’re worried.”

His face contorts in confusion. “About what?”

“I don’t know. But I can feel it.”

“Same wavelength,” he laughs. Empty but he knows you’re just trying to help.

“Look.” He doesn’t but that’s because you’ve turned back to your books. “We have sex when we have sex. And if someone tries to—bother you about it, you can tell them they can suck on my fat cock.”

You hear him chortle. “I’ll do that.”

The conversation ends. You study. You still feel Jeongguk fidgeting.

Now there’s three weeks left till the term is over.  

“My—brain. It’s exploding. There’s too much going on.”

Jeongguk’s desk is a cramped space—the only place you can prop your textbook up against is his sweatshirt wrapped into a wrinkly ball. Graciously taken from his hamper because he still hasn’t done his laundry. The chair creaks when you spin to look at him: a dejected blob of comfy clothes surrounded by looseleaf paper and sticky notes. “Break time?”

He slumps against his pillows, arms out like a sad toddler. “Break time.”

This probably means you’ll cuddle for the next three hours but there’s little to complain about when Jeongguk purrs into your hair once you settle into his chest. There’s a warmth to him you can’t get anywhere else. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he huffs. “Just working too hard.”

“Okay,” you murmur. Jeongguk’s breath evens out the way it does when he wants to stop thinking. You can hear the hum of the fridge outside. 

“Want this to be over.”

You trace your nail over his collarbone. “I know.” 

“When’s your awards ceremony?”

“In two weeks,” you say.

“Same time as our final game.”

You lean your head up when he sighs, watching his eyes flutter in the afternoon shade of his curtains. A calmer period right after a hectic schedule of school, because you have Professor Kwon to thank for her excessive meetings about tutorials and assignments. It never occurred to you that you might’ve been imposing when you showed up to Jeongguk’s dorm with your homework, but he’d been studying too. Same wavelength, he’d say.

“Jimin been bothering you lately?”

“No, thank god. Don’t think I could take anymore prodding.”

This is the first time you’ve asked since that afternoon in the quad, though now Jimin’s been less annoying whenever you see him with Jeongguk. You know he’s just itching for your boyfriend to finally get his dick wet. 

And you can’t blame him—that was his intention when he finally got Jeongguk to ask you out. Friendship with Jeongguk was a weird stretch of time, especially when he’d spent the entirety of it silently pining for you: involuntarily single, but so preoccupied with the care and keeping of your GPA you’d been blind to any advance. Not that he tried anything, though. 

He’d been in his second year, still getting used to the enormity of campus grounds as a scholarship-bound athlete. And on top of all his schoolwork he had to balance the fragility of having a crush on an upperclassman well on her way to PhD candidacy. It was a good thing he was cute, though, and Jimin had no qualms about embarrassing Jeongguk any chance he got when you were around. The blush when Jimin had pushed him to your desserts table at one of the indoor Farmers’ Markets still burns in the furthest love-lit corner in your mind.

“You remember when you asked me out?”

“God.” A too-late night in the library that prompted the chivalrous part in Jeongguk because he’d brought you to the bus stop too close for campus police to escort you. You’d been good friends for a while already, the hurdle of skirting around each other knocked down when Jeongguk finally got the guts to insert himself in the your friend circle. In that wet shelter, a quivering lip. The sure that now has you seven-and-a-half months down the line with arguably the best thing that’s happened to you since you started your college career, but you won’t tell him that. “Why are you bringing that up?”

“I don’t know. Just—feels like forever ago.”

“Sappy.”

“Maybe the stars are aligning,” you say.

“Is that a good thing?”

“I don’t know, just. Sometimes when I lie down with you I feel like I have to—lay myself bare.”

“Then bare yourself.”

You pause. “I’d like to suck your dick.”

“I’m gonna—I’m gonna need you to elaborate,” Jeongguk says like he’s winded.

“Two weeks of me finishing assignments and you at hockey practice. You know. Take advantage of the time we have with each other.”

“Good point. But I have a counter offer.”

Jeongguk is always a giver. “Which is?”

“I eat you out instead.”

“You’re too good to me,” and this is the only response you can come up with without sounding too shocked. Or horny. Not that you’d ever shy away but Jeongguk had a way of burning you up from the inside. “You’re down for that?”

“Always,” he says, then rolls you over. All that muscle from his workouts barring you from even thinking about fighting him back so you let him push you till you’re comfortable. But this isn’t about you. Not at the moment, anyway. 

“Take your shirt off.” Jeongguk does this so quickly his face almost crashes into yours when he comes back down, gasping a laugh that he breathes into you when his mouth meets yours. A quick tangle of your legs around his waist has him lying over you with ease, caught in his cage of pressed-down elbows and intimacy. 

“Wanna—take care of you.” He trails his mouth down your neck, bed squeaking when his knees pad down. Lips tasting lower and now he lifts your shirt up to your chest, pressing wetness to your stomach and you’re quick to discard your clothing if only to see Jeongguk pause at the zipper of your jeans. “Can I—?”

You nod. 

His fingers don’t shake but he’s blinking fast, pulling on the waistline of the rough denim and shucking it past your feet, sighing when your panties come into view. A short-lived reverence when he leans down to mouth at your sex above the thin cotton and your legs spread wide for his arms to cling onto.

“Tell me—tell me what you like,” he says. A shy demand.

“Take my underwear off then I’ll tell you.”

There’s warmth lost when Jeongguk slides your panties down to one ankle but he’s over you in the second it takes for you to flick it off. No pause in his eagerness but now he lies in wait for your instructions. The way he pauses for you is so agonizingly hot you might combust.

“It’s—I like it when… I feel you lick at my…” God you sound fucked. But Jeongguk’s a wild card and takes it in stride, hands once again finding purchase around your thighs and you feel his hard tongue on you, a wet slide that has your stomach caving. It’s the natural twitch in your fingers that prompt you to keep a loose grip in his hair, other hand tight in the bed like your proxy anchor. “Oh. Yeah. Yeah…”

Jeongguk laves your core, pressing harder the higher he goes. Contingency he takes advantage of because you get louder. It’s the lick on your clit that has you sighing. “Oooh, you—use the… tip of your tongue. And lick right—there.”

He’s so pliant you feel like you’re throttling him. There’s a forward insistence of his head until you feel the flat of his tongue pressed fully against you, his neck rolling with every shift of your hips. In control of your pleasure and he makes it feel like this is what he was made to do. His fingers get tight. “You taste good,” he exhales right onto your sex and you nearly crush his head with your thighs.

“Oh my god.” Your breaths are lost. You might hide your face but that would mean losing sight of Jeongguk providing a service only he can spell out with his tongue. “Ah—”

There’s a little squeak further down the bed and you notice the small flutter of his groin caught in the warmth of him and the sheets. His lips close around your nub before you can say anything, slurping that has your gut wrangled, your fingers gripping his hair as you get lost in his love. Your eyes roll back. “Oh fuck, that—agh—”

He’s made you come before. And the familiar tone of your incoming bliss is something he can memorize—he probably already has judging by the train wreck of your throat and the sounds he pulls from you. A swindler of your orgasms but you’d gladly hand yourself over if it meant deceiving your pussy into its own demise.

“Fuck you’re—so sexy like this,” Jeongguk mumbles. You whine at his attention but now you’re running even hotter than ever.

You’re not even telling him what to do anymore but you know he knows it’s good, a message sent with every twitch of your sex into his mouth and now his fingers are splayed along your pelvis to keep you from bucking up. He doesn’t even need his fingers. It’s the hardened tongue, the little slashes on your clit as his head swings back and forth that have you squealing: “Yes, like that. Oh I’m cumming—fuck—!”

Jeongguk hums when you jerk your hips up, convulsions in all your sweetest parts and your throat is dry from all your moaning, the swell of your lungs so hard to keep up with but he always has you losing your breath. Spit collects in its warmth down your ass but it’s a lost thought when Jeongguk lathers you into your come-down, legs like jelly and he helps your knees together when you finally stop trembling. You don’t realize your eyes are closed until you feel his lips on your mouth, complaint of catching a break right behind your teeth when you kiss with what little strength remains in you. 

“That was. Really good,” you whisper. Jeongguk laughs. And he doesn’t say anything, just looks at you with his wet mouth and red cheeks. “Do you wanna cum?”

He looks like he’ll say no. A bitten lip instead of confirmation. “I—”

“Please, I want you to.” Like a switch turned on he lights up, head bobbing and now he’s shoving his jeans past his ass, underwear down too. “You wanna—come on my face?”

His eyes look like they’re leaking out of his face. A strangled noise escapes his throat. He probably thinks you’re on crack but it’s just in his nature for him to assume a dazed auto-pilot whenever you say shit so outlandish. “You—I—I-I—Can—?”

“You can cum—god you can cum anywhere. I’m yours. Remember?” Reaching behind, you feel for the clasp of your bra, flinging it off before you pull on Jeongguk by the dip of his back until his knees straddle your ribs. “Is this good?”

“Can—could you—spit… on it.” His voice dwindles like he’s caught between the threshold of dirty and pushing it. You don’t answer because your neck straining for the tip of his dick and down the rest of his shaft is all he needs for one. Jeongguk bucks into you. “Oh fuck—ngh—ah!”

If his grinding on the mattress was a ticking bomb, your tongue on his cock is the thirty seconds till detonation. And by the sounds of Jeongguk groaning into the mid-afternoon sun slipping through his curtains you know he’s almost there. “Lie down, lie down,” he instructs, hand replacing your mouth in a stroke so quick you’re scared he might get cum in your hair.

“Agh—fuck yeah I’m—”

A spurt of his cum stains your lip, then your cheek. You feel some on the tip of your nose too but Jeongguk points his dick down to your tits, spilling all his hot frustration on your even hotter skin and you might cum again from the visual of him looking so spent. “Wow.”

“Yeah, that—” Jeongguk swallows twice— “I… wow.”

His dick is getting soft. There’s sweat pooling where your body meets the sheets. “Wanna pass me tissues?”

“Oh fuck. Yeah, yeah—here, sorry.” Jeongguk makes soft passes with a wad of cotton over your chest, handing one to you for your face. “Do you—do you like it? When I… cum on you?”

“Yeah.” You think about making a weird comment about sipping on his juice but you’ll save it for later. You focus on not letting his spunk flake on your cheek. “It’s hot. Really.”

“Good,” he says. Flopping down after shooting the soiled tissue into the basket and now he seems exhausted. “Do you feel gross or is it just me.”

“Gross how?”

“Gross like I need a shower.”

You can’t deny him. “Wanna shower?”

“Yep,” he says with no hesitation, and he doesn’t let you say anything else when he grabs you by your wrists. Somehow, everything feels lighter.

Sometimes Jeongguk invites you out to practice. It’s boring and you don’t know a single rule about gameplay, but the presence of him despite being a ways away on the ice is still a comfort on its own. 

The arena is frigidly cold, and while you aren’t without distraction (re: Assignments) it’s still one you can barely get yourself to really focus on. You rub your face in frustration. You hear the sound of the hockey puck passed around in harsh slaps.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

“Jimin,” you acknowledge. He drops down next to you. “Here to spy on hockey ass too, huh.”

“That and Hoseok promised to get me dinner later.” You raise your eyebrow. “Did one of his assignments.”

“Forgot you were a chemistry genius.” Clicking your tongue, you watch the big 97 of Jeongguk’s jersey as he glides around behind the glass. He waves when he sees you looking. You’d greet him back but your hands are too perfect where they are in the heat of your sweater pockets so you wave your head in what you hope looks like excitement. 

“Been holding up okay?” You turn. Jimin’s eyes are a blaze of concern. “The other week, in the quad. You were pretty stressed.”

“Final paper.”

“Dissertation?”

“Working up to that,” you say.

“So you’re a scholar scholar.”

“Mm.” Your laptop screen blinks to black. “Something like that.” You hear Jimin snicker. He’s coiled up, stomach caved in a tiny laugh, eyes crinkled. Too amused. “What?”

“I’m just—” Jimin takes a breath in to stem his impending laughing fit— “so confused. Like, there’s Jeongguk who can eat eight cups of spicy ramen and literally bomb the bathroom with his shit—and then right next to him is Jane Goodall but with human babies.”

“He loves spicy ramen,” you comment.

“Yeah but do we like his stank? Nope. And you really just compared pronatalism to liking ramen. You know you’re out of his league.”

Jeongguk, completely oblivious to Jimin’s really weird anecdote, brings a fist up in cheers when he shoots the puck into the net. “Well. At the very least he’s cute.”

Jimin heeds with a hum to watch the play on ice. Seeing the team skate around with their broad-shoulders and thick helmets is an odd kind of relaxation. A team of huge men cutting the ice with knives on their feet but the sound is a swish satisfying enough for those kinds of videos that put you to sleep. Rough and gentle, just like Jeongguk. “I’m glad Jeongguk met you,” Jimin starts again.

“Mm. I think he has you to thank.” You boot up your laptop once more in the hopes you get inspired to type, but now Jimin has you distracted even more. 

“He just… used to be so quiet. And I’m gonna brag here but he’s got good friends. But meeting you was a game-changer.”

“Hm.”

“He was so passive.” You think to Jimin almost two years ago, pushing a slightly-smaller Jeongguk towards your table at the market. One look in your eye; pointing to the donut closest to him. Your finger touched his palm when you dropped the chocolate-glazed on it and he looked lost. “But now he’s just. Happy. All the time. It’s nice to see.”

There’s 97 again. Then Jeongguk turns and glides closer to the rail. He holds up ten fingers. Ten till over. You give a thumbs up. You feel yourself shivering but you’re not cold anymore. “Then I’m glad, too.”

“Good kid.” Jimin waves too, and Jeongguk skates off without looking at him. “Bitch! Anyway.” He leans back on his hands, feet perched on the row in front. “You guys… good now?”

And your screen fades to black again. “Oh god.”

“Sorry, fuck. Sometimes I think—no sometimes I don’t think. Sorry.”

“It’s fine, whatever.” You turn to Jimin looking very apologetic, keeping mum with his lips folded in. “It’s—he’s. A lot more eager, I have to say.”

“And are you okay with that?”

You hesitate. “I mean if we’re getting vulgar here—”

“Absolutely not, you are not telling me what he did with his dick.”

You raise your hands in surrender. You wouldn’t have told him anyway. It’s just nice to see a flustered Jimin, especially after what he’s subjected you and Jeongguk to. Good-natured but overtly so, and now you’re both blushing. “It’s been good.” 

Great. Now you’re thinking about Jeongguk and his cock again. Obviously it’s not unwelcome but riling you up is getting too easy.

“Then that’s good,” Jimin says. You hear the blow of the whistle. A congregation of fist bumps forms at the exit of the rink, and Jeongguk lets everyone pass him to get off. “Well I’m gonna go get ready for some free food. See you, yeah?”

He offers a high-five you hit hard. “Bye.”

“Oh. And good luck on your paper. You coming to the game by the way?” Jimin asks. He jumps off the bleachers, leaving you to stare at your honest attempt at getting work done. You close your laptop with a sad click. 

“I have an awards ceremony that day,” you explain. “I’ll try and catch it.”

“Don’t work too hard.” Just then, Jeongguk runs up behind Jimin not at all silently—his gym bag is ginormous—to catch him in a headlock. “Wha—”

“Why are you talking to my girlfriend,” Jeongguk interrogates. He’s probably wet with heat because Jimin scrunches his nose and shoves him off.

“You’re a pig, did you even shower.”

“Smell my armpits and you’ll get your answer.”

“Anyway,” Jimin groans. “I’m off.” He walks to the changing room in a swagger so calculated you’d yell at him for showing off his ass. But Jeongguk drags your attention away when he steps in front of the bleachers, leaning over until you greet him with a kiss.

“Hi,” Jeongguk says against your mouth.

You plug your nose for effect. “So you didn’t shower.”

“I rinsed! Don’t be mean.” He watches as you shove all your things into your bag, his hand poised for you to give it to him, and inside you falter at his generosity but you shoulder the strap and use his outstretched palm to help you up instead. “I wanted your bag, miss.”

“No, you already have a heavy one.”

“Let me carry it for you—” But you shut him up with a tiptoe and a peck to his open mouth. “Don’t distract me!”

You ignore him, grabbing his wrist and dragging him toward the exit. “Let’s go, I might miss my bus.”

Eight p.m. is a dead hour on campus grounds. You see only a handful of straggling students going back to res, even more going into the library building. The lamps guide your every step. Jeongguk’s fingers tangle in yours. “So you aren’t free at all the rest of the week right?”

“Yeah.” You try not to look at him because you know he’s pouting. “I didn’t get any work done thanks to your shouting.”

“That was Yoongi,” Jeongguk defends. “And sorry.”

You reach the bus shelter. “I’m kidding.” The neon sign overhead says your bus is due in three minutes. “I’m—I like going to your practice.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I like seeing my star hockey player tear it up on the ice,” you joke. Jeongguk laughs into your lips when he bends down lock them with his own. 

“Was it sexy enough for you?”

“Oh yeah. Got my pussy rumbling.”

He balks. “You’re so annoying.”

Two minutes. “It’s starting again.”

“What is?” In the dark light of the evening moon rising, you are reminded of this bus shelter seven months ago. A tower of nerves over you. If you think hard enough, you can still hear the shaky question he’d let dangle from his tongue, the one that has you here with him now. But now Jeongguk is nervous for different reasons. “Oh, like when you disappear on me for like five years.”

You see the light of the bus coming. You wrap Jeongguk in your arms. “Yeah. I’m only free next week.”

“Take it easy,” he says. Only one person gets off at the stop. “Just text me. Don’t need a repeat of last time.”

Last time—a month into your relationship. When you texted him every four days because of your midterms and he’d gotten so worried he genuinely wept when you showed up to his doorstep. It was a good thing you’d brought food too; not that you were expecting a cry fest but he’d felt better once he was filled with fried noodles and your affection. You concede to his request with a nod.

He lets you leave with one last kiss to your forehead. “See you,” you say. The air is alive with what you have to leave behind for the time being.

The week is rough. Professor Kwon asks you to submit marks sooner than you anticipate, so the need to get your paper done becomes a lot more urgent. One student hasn’t even handed in her assignment, which—fine. You don’t have any qualms about the zero you input. But the angry email with the threat to report you to an academic advisor the next day has you so on edge Namjoon agrees to grade half your assignments next time.

Jeongguk, somehow, eludes you too. Graduate school demands more tears than sweat and blood and while he tries his best to comfort you during your work-filled days, he’s been getting busier with hockey practice too. The added thought of starting to study for your exams is just another cake-topper. And it isn’t as if you’re going days without talking to Jeongguk, but it’s still a sting to the romantic part in you that misses him.

A week and a half before your big paper is due is a Tuesday. The girl who dissed you in your email doesn’t show up to tutorial. Everyone is dismissed for the evening. It’s good. 

Nothing beats the giddy jump in your step when you find a cubby in the library close enough to an outlet, though.

Then you get a text from Jeongguk.

[8:07 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: I’m free the rest of the night!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Let me love u bich u really deprived me of touch for an entire week  [8:07 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Wya

He meets you at the library with sweaty bangs and indents on his cheek from his helmet. You briefly contemplate jumping him. The feeling is quelled with the reminder that the library doesn’t tolerate loud noises and Excessive Romantic Gestures, so you opt for:

“Sexy.” You’re up on your feet to give him a quick hug and he makes a disgruntled face before dropping a kiss to your mouth.

“You wet yet?”

You glare to hide the need to balk. You plop back down. “You ate pussy once, don’t think this gives you free points to get so cocky.”

He pauses. “Sorry?”

“Sit. And don’t—ask me that again.”

“Yes ma’am.” Jeongguk cowers into the seat next to you. “What’s my scholar up to tonight?”

“Researching about Western Europe and their refugee policies.”

He doesn’t look like he’s interested but he makes a contemplative noise. “Very… educated. But anyhow. I’ve been thinking.” Uh oh. “And I have something. It was a week-long thought process but I have it.”

Your pens roll along the wood of the desk. “Have what?”

“A plan.”

“For?”

“For how I’m gonna fuck you. Eventually, I mean.”

“I leave you for a week and this happens,” you answer, but he’s not fazed. You feel yourself melting. Something you learned about Jeongguk during the preliminary stages of your relationship was that he liked getting things right. And if that meant practicing until he was ready—well. There’s a part in you that fears for the livelihood of your vagina. “Babe. That’s—you know we don’t need some sort of… five-steps-to-success thing.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” He pouts like you have it all wrong. Maybe you do, but it doesn’t sound so convincing to your—to be frank—non-virgin ears. “Good practice.” 

You knew he would say that. “You have something in your noggin already, boy?”

“Yeah.”

“Wanna elaborate?”

Jeongguk shrugs. “What do people normally establish before they start having sex?”

“Well I don’t have lice in my pubic hair if that’s what you wanna know,” you offer.

He scrunches his face. “Don’t—joke about that.”

“Sorry.” Jeongguk gives you an incredulous look because you both know you don’t mean it. “But you really wanna do this here?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, lay it on me.”

“Wait—really?” 

You’re starting to think you won’t get any work done for the night. Like all the nights you spend with Jeongguk and you realize the pattern now, so you might as well indulge in him. “Yeah, go pull on all your pornographic roots.”

“Ha ha.”

“I’m not into getting tied up, first of all.” You flip a page in your textbook to feign nonchalance as Jeongguk wheezes.

“Stop that!” But he just takes a piece of paper and readies a fist to write. “You’re so crude.”

Now you really can’t focus. “Are you seriously going to write about my sexual preferences?”

“No, I’m writing a detailed observation about how to go about. You know.” He purses a lip in thought. “Navigating the ocean of your pussy and its desires.”

You didn’t think the library would be home to both of your sexual awakenings, but Jeongguk makes it hard to be shy when he’s this motivated. “Weird way of asking me if I’m into watersports.”

“Okay you have to take back asking me about my pornographic roots because it sounds like you’re the freakier one.”

“You like me being freaky?” 

He reddens. “Anyway!” (Silently, you revel in your power to tease.) “I was thinking. Since we can’t hang out too much the next week-ish, that we save all the good stuff for later.”

Good point. “Define good stuff.”

Jeongguk gets smaller. Eyes drilled into yours, he whispers, “Putting my penis inside you.”

“Okay now it’s getting weird.”

He drops his pencil in disbelief. “Only now? Tell me how any of this wasn’t weird in the first place.”

“You’re literally the one who took out a pencil to jot down my sexual preferences, don’t act like you’re innocent.” Now he has the decency to look sheepish. He doesn’t say anything. “Jeongguk. It’s fine to be nervous. But I don’t want you to feel like you need to do this.”

You might as well be talking to the wall but he nods anyway. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No! Just… you don’t owe anyone anything.” Something in you longs for him to understand that. You hate to make him nervous but Jeongguk is so adamant you almost want to wrap him in your arms from the sexually-inclined horde that came in the form of Park Jimin. “Remember that.”

He deflates with a sigh. “Then… can you come over tomorrow?” He’s squirming. “I’m done practice at seven.”

“If my advisor’s nice enough she’ll let me off at six,” you confirm.

Jeongguk takes a notebook out but makes no effort to open it. “And. I missed you. Just. Wanted to get that out there.”

There’s only so much texting can do, you get it. The pit of your stomach simmers with affection for the dumb boy sitting next to you, legs jumping the way they do when he’s nervous. “Love you.” And he smiles. Fuel for your listlessness. There are papers to write, and virgins to daydream about. Especially about the one who just propositioned you with absurdities. But now his pencil is out, and the moment is lost. 

You can think about Jeongguk’s dick later. For now, you settle in the quietude of his presence with yours.

It’s a colder day today.

“Hi!” Taehyung opens the door, bouncing in his pyjamas from the rush of freezing air. “Come, come. Please don’t ask me how I’ve been, I’m so tired of school and that’ll be my answer and I don’t want to talk about it.”

You swallow your pleasantries down. He’s a stressed Neuroscience major. “Fair,” you greet instead, toeing your boots off.

“Coming from somewhere?”

“Tutorial evaluation,” you say. Taehyung lets out a low whistle, closes the door behind you. He knows your shoulders are stiff because of Professor Kwon’s watchful gaze. Sitting at the back, ramrod straight with that black clipboard, taking down notes on your performance as a first-time TA. 

She’d let you go after with a smile, though. Let you know you did fine. You’d practically glided to residence when she’d given you the go to leave for the day. 

“I have a question for you,” Taehyung says. He sits on the couch, watches as you take off your snow-soiled scarf and jacket. “Has Jeongguk been more… fidgety lately?”

So he’s noticed too. “Yeah, I’ve—seen it. Why?”

“I don’t know, he sort of just—” Taehyung scoots over when you plop down next to him— “he came out of the room yesterday squealing, then ran around the living room for a bit then just. Went back into his room.”

Oh. So that’s what he was off to do when said he needed to get something after you linked him to your favourite porn accounts on Twitter.

“Maybe it’s just. I don’t know, pre-game jitters,” you lie. Taehyung’s giving you the look. Like he’s not satisfied with your answer and the only way to sate him is if you let him do one thing. “You can ask.”

“Did you fuck him yet?”

No reservations. As expected, because he’s just as nosy as Jimin and the rest of their friends annoyingly concerned with Jeongguk’s hesitation in the bedroom. “Nope.”

“Okay but like—can you fuck him already? I’m gonna be rolling in my grave by the time his penis passes the two-inch border of your personal space.”

You can’t keep in your snort. “Oh my god.”

“Just. We really don’t mean to be so standoffish but he just likes you so much it’s insane. Like I’ll see his phone light up and he will too. He’ll literally—he just glows. It’s kind of creepy actually but like. Cute creepy.”

The rush of praise runs through you. You don’t like to brag, but you really did snag the campus boy crush. You were popular enough with academia, but after the first time Jeongguk posted a picture of you two at the Christmas market, though—the entire student body went ballistic. It was the nascence of a fairy tale; movie romance budding in the grey concrete of campus grounds. 

No one saw it coming. And knowing that the one everyone has their eye on has its eyes on you—it’s a good kind of blow.

“He’s my baby,” you say, and Taehyung coos. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of him.”

There’s a rattling of the door knob. The sight of a ragged Jeongguk stumbles in, gym bag dropped on the floor and he disappears down the hall with the call for a shower and a brief smile your way. “I’ll be five minutes, babe.”

That’s Taehyung’s cue. “Well—I’m off to study group. Take care of him, yeah?”

“You know it.” You offer a fist bump. Taehyung’s knuckles are bony on yours. 

The trek to Jeongguk’s room isn’t unfamiliar. You bounce back on his bed, willing yourself not to close your eyes because you know you’ll just crash. A headache prepares right behind your temple, as imminent as rumbling thunder. Something in you calls for Jeongguk to hurry the fuck up before you succumb to Stress and those horrible, horrible thoughts of due dates.

It doesn’t take that long. There’s the squeak of the shower handle turning off and the black of your closed eyes, the scurrying of an unseen body; the lifting of your shirt for a very heavy weight of a hockey player blowing raspberries into the skin of your stomach. Jeongguk chortles when you nearly break your back trying to dislodge him. “You’re—oh my god—hey stop!”

“Hi,” he says, laugh caught in his breath, “I’m clean.”

“I see that.” He’s in his pyjamas. You let him settle on your side. The lingering heat from his shower makes you clammy but you let him hold you tight. “How was practice?”

“It was nice.” This is code for: I wasn’t yelled at by Yoongi. “I’m excited for our game, I’m feelin’ good. Did you find out if you could make it?”

You were blessed by the gods, because not only were your days coinciding, they were also starting an hour within each other. You’d be at the podium with a flowery speech while Jeongguk tears the ice rink with his pretty skates. And if every award recipient’s was longer than a minute then you might miss the entire game. Two hours past Jeongguk most likely scoring the winning goal; an infinity lost to see your star in action. 

(And seeing Jeongguk play is really attractive.)

You settle with: “I’ll try my best.”

“Okay,” he says. The crown of his head digs into your neck. You feel his lips when he speaks. “How are you holding up?”

“Barely.”

“Did you get your paper done?”

“Barely.”

“So it’s done.”

“Let’s not talk about school,” you dismiss. He leaves the conversation to wither with a suction to your skin. Wet where he lines your neck with quick kisses and you soften into the sheets. “Is this your way of—executing your plan.”

“Hm?”

“You know—your—guide to putting your penis inside me.”

He leans up on his elbow. Unimpressed because his eyebrows are scrunched. “Funny.”

“You love me.”

“And what about it?” His eyes shine the way they do before he tells you he loves you too. “It isn’t even a plan it’s just—a buildup. To when my penis goes inside you. Like a countdown but with orgasms instead.” You snicker. He drags a light hand down your front, settling his palm right over your pussy. “Let me touch you.”

You forget how to breathe for a second. “Yeah—I’m—yeah. Please.”

“Sit up.” Jeongguk plants himself near the wall, not unlike the position he was in when you sucked his dick for the first time. Instead of the afternoon heat, you’re caught under the dying evening rays of sunset: not as hot but still you feel the spark in your belly when Jeongguk lifts your bum to settle you between his legs. His nails play with the button of your pants. “I wanna try something.”

“Sure.” And he helps you wiggle off your clothes, bottom bare to his graces. Doesn’t say anything, just lets his mouth meet yours slowly, tasting the day off your tongue, your worries behind his teeth. 

“Anyone ever fingered you so hard you cried?”

“You wanna make me cry?”

“Don’t say it like that.” Jeongguk nips at your lip. “But yeah, I guess.”

You’re wet. This is a fact you come to realize when you feel him spread your legs, feet planting in the mattress in an attempt to ground yourself.  “Okay,” you agree.

His mouth’s busy with yours, lips unyielding like he could do this all day. It’s almost picturesque, the way he has you: head turned over to meet him in his love, arms wrapped around your own. Yours for him to savour and he always tastes good.

He doesn’t wait anymore. Your clit throbs with the passes of his fingers, head falling back to rest on Jeongguk’s shoulder when he dips in the pool of your heat and drags it back up. Groaning when he spins tight circles like you taught him and your hands find his thighs. “Feels—good,” you utter. Already you’re gone but Jeongguk feeds into your pleasure with no qualms for your embarrassment.

“Can I—put in a finger?” He asks shyly, but playing with your slick like he’s known how to make you putty in his hands this whole time.

“Yeah. Please.” You welcome the insistence in your sex with the buck of your hips. Jeongguk curls his middle finger up, the heel of his hand smooth on your clit and you sigh, “Ooh, fuck yeah.”

He kisses your cheek. “Another one?”

“I can take it,” you say, and he has another finger in you, hooking into your nerves. You might moan but Jeongguk turns your head and molds his mouth into yours, stealing your breath with his tongue. He curves in a little too hard and you squeal. “Oh my god, too—much.”

“Sorry.” He adjusts, fingers straight again. “M’gonna go faster, if that’s okay.” You nod, restless, and then he adds: “And you can’t look away from me.”

“Yes please—”

You couldn’t look away even if you tried, because the hand not fucking you into oblivion catches your cheeks, locking you to Jeongguk’s gaze. It’s a fucked out one too, and now you notice his hard dick pressed up against your back. 

It’s a storm of thrusting: wet and more wet and now he abruptly pulls out, smears your slick on your clit in a rub so fast you would squeal louder if it weren’t for his lips swallowing your sounds. 

“Oh-h—!”

You burn. Jeongguk enters you again and your cunt feels swollen. Fucking all the deepest and dirtiest parts of you and you take it, yielding to the draw on your tight walls. The squelch gets louder. So do you. 

“Oh yeah—” And you don’t cry but the feeling of him inside is so overwhelming and all that you need and it’s there— “Fuck, y-eah. Gonna cum soon—”

“Give it to me.” Punctuated with a twist in your sex so rough you would have twitched him off but his legs cage you. Jeongguk smiles. “Come on babe—”

“Nnn—ha J-Jeongguk—” You grab his wrist, the one knocking his fingers so good though he doesn’t stop under the tight hold— “B-Baby—”

“I want it, I want it,” he chants into your mouth, like he’s eager for a release conducive to your early death just so he can say he did that. Awful cocky but you can’t dwell on it. “Just cum for me.”

“Fuck—” He makes you look at him when you do, eyes wide to his imploring ones. He has it in his fingers, a climax that wrangles the most obscene noises from your throat. Your hips grind up uncontrollably, clit a pulsing pain but his thumb rubs it all the same. Jeongguk doesn’t stop till you whine, “God, please—I can’t."

“You’re crying.”

“Am not.” But you feel the sting of heat in your eyes. Jeongguk rubs his nose with yours, wrapped in his arms and affection.

“Was it good though?”

“Was it good, he says.” You kiss him with no bite. “Loved it. Best ever.”

Jeongguk lights up, corners of his mouth lifted into a sated grin. “Woo,” he says. You’re about to ask if he wants one rubbed out but he continues speaking. “So plan’s going well if you wanted to know.”

“Shut up. Shut up!” You make a point of getting up with as much force as possible, disturbing the coils the mattress as Jeongguk laughs. “You’re so gross.”

“You love me.”

Your panties are sticky against you. You turn to see him staring at you already. “I love you.”

The room glows in the last few minutes of red, coated darker and darker. But the look Jeongguk gives you—maybe astonishment, maybe longing—casts a glow that blazes within. Like all he wants is for you to be here and you do too. He breaks the silence with a smile. “You’re the best, you know that?”

You climb back over him, unable to resist anymore. “So I’ve been told.”

“I mean it though.” He shifts so you’re lying down again, head on his chest. Warm again. “Sorry if I’m—pushing the agenda. And I know I say Jimin’s not getting to me and it’s true but it—makes me want you. All the time.”

You settle for the truth with a kiss to his sternum. “I have no free time after today though.” 

“That’s okay,” Jeongguk whispers. “Just love me now and you can always love me later.”

“I can do that,” you say. 

He lets you dig into his side even further. “Are you sure you don’t wanna talk about school?”

“Mm.” You know it’ll help to air your dirty laundry. But knowing Jeongguk has his own shit to deal with is enough for you to hesitate. “Nothing I—haven’t said before. Just stressed.”

“About your last assignment?”

“Mhm.”

“You’re smart. And for whatever reason, really into baby-making in foreign countries.” Jeongguk groans when you pinch him. “But I know you. And you’ll do well. Also it’s official that you’ll do well because you’re dating someone really good at what they do, and I was just inside your body so technically my energy transferred to you.”

“Very solid process.” 

His breathes warmth into your skin. “Believe me. You’re gonna be fine.”

And it’s not the end of the world, not being able to see him for a bit. You both know this. You hug him tighter to you regardless, like making his skin stick to yours was an actuality. You know he feels it too when his arm locks just a tiny bit harder. An unspoken longing for the mold of your body.

You’ll get there.

It’s been four days since you’ve seen Jeongguk, so Namjoon takes the responsibility of keeping you sane. He books a study room for three hours and meets you with a two cups of coffee and three extra pens just in case they run out while you mark your assignments together. He takes the stack of papers from you with a frown, and you work.

The paper is coming along well. You think you have a good five pages to go, but the amount of hounding Professor Kwon has done is scaring you into another late night-in. More and more marks are due, and Namjoon has his own work to deal with. You hate to burden him with your own but now you’re really feeling the Stress from school.

[6:01 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Hey what are you doing [6:02 PM] You: i’m doing work :(( [6:02 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Poo poo [6:02 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: I’m bored [6:03 PM] You: 💩💩 [6:03 PM] You: sorry bout it !!!!!!! [6:04 PM] You: wait how can u be bored ur @ practice ?? if ur just…. doin practice [6:05 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: On break [6:05 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: And I miss you [6:06 PM] You: omg!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [6:06 PM] You: my heart

Namjoon’s eyebrows are scrunched. “I can’t tell what this student is saying.”

“Read it out loud.” 

“I will argue that the legalization of crack cocaine will act as a beneficial potential towards the bettering of society. With the advent of legal marijuana usage in Canada—yeah.”

“That’s… an abuse of thesaurus privileges,” you comment.

He hums. “They’re young, let them live.”

Again, Jeongguk texts you.

[6:09 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: When are you free [6:10 PM] You: tonight [6:10 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: I’m not 😩😩 What about Wednesday? [6:11 PM] You: i’m only free rn baby :( might have to wait till after friday [6:12 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 [6:12 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Damn [6:12 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: I need to go now text me when you’re done k?????? Love you [6:13 PM] You: okay ! 💜

You hear Namjoon snapping at you. “You’re getting distracted.”

“Sorry.” Your pen twitches in your grip. This is your third cup of coffee. “Just—need a goddamn break.

You can sense Namjoon’s nerves grating too. “I get it.” He looks at his watch. “Well. We need to leave in five minutes.”

You graded almost all of your half of assignments. You let yourself breathe a sigh of accomplishment, clearing your work into your bag. “Thanks for helping me out.”

“Buy me lunch someday and we’ll call it even,” Namjoon says. He swipes the papers your way to collect. “And by the way—” he takes one last sip of his coffee— “I caught wind that one of the Commissioner-Generals is coming to the ceremony.”

You stare. “From which agency?” 

“No clue. But I just thought you should know.”

Of course he would. The one time you don’t clear your search history and now Namjoon is up your ass helping you find any potential global PhD programs. And it wasn’t unimaginable either, some higher-up coming to see the semester-end awards the department heads organized, and the student chair had a lot of say in it, current one being Kim Namjoon: a lobbyist, a smart guy, and Twitter-sort-of-famous for being really damn loud about inequality.

But they’re probably not recruiting me, you think. Best not to get your hopes up lest it go to a well-deserved head who apparently doesn’t get distracted by the potential of finally squeezing their boyfriend’s dick. 

Namjoon sighs. “Hey, isn’t the ceremony the same day as the game?”

“Yep,” you confirm. For a split second, an image of Jeongguk giggling pops up into your head.

“Do you think you’ll make it?”

You sling your bag over your shoulder, standing outside the door until Namjoon turns off all the lights. “I’m gonna try.”

The hallway to the main entrance of the Humanities wing is quiet. “Speaking of the game. Any intel about your current… predicament?”

“Jimin?”

“Jimin.”

“About Jeongguk?”

“About Jeongguk.”

“Fuck,” you murmur. And you thought he’d be kind enough to keep your secret, but Namjoon is to Jimin like a big is to a little except they’re both too posh to be in a frat. “Not really. And stay out of it.”

“I will,” he says. He opens the door, winter wind as brutal as ever. You think about Jeongguk walking you to the bus stop but he’s probably already back at his dorm. You shiver. “But if I catch you distracted on your phone again I might have to ask.”

You cower into embarrassment.“Sorry.” 

Namjoon waves you off. “Just get home safe, yeah?”

Getting home isn’t that bad; late enough for the absence of the rush hour crowd and you get to sit on the bus the rest of the ride. You all but book it to your place to escape the frost nipping at your cheeks and into the nest of your textbooks. Plans to demolish at least a tiny bit of your not-so-tiny pile of work come to a stand-still when you hear your phone vibrate.

[7:46 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Hey did u finish yet [7:46 PM] You: fuck sorry forgot to text [7:46 PM] You: yeah i did, i just got home [7:47 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: That’s good [7:47 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Do you have a lot of work to do tonight?? [7:48 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Please say no [7:48 PM] You: ….. [7:48 PM] You: why [7:48 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: The plan [7:50 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Still building [7:50 PM] You: should i be scared [7:51 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: No!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [7:51 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: But [7:51 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: I know you wouldn’t like it if I didn’t ask, and I’m a good boy, so [7:52 PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Can I send you a picture of my dick?

A boot hangs limply from your toes from when you were trying to tug it off. Dumbly, you’re gaping. Gaping at this transition from shy Jeongguk to… whatever the fuck this was. The pulsing of your sex betrays your shock.

It’s not like things were changing fast, either. That moment in his bed—after he fucked you with his fingers—was the last time you’d been together. A solid evening of knotted arms and Jeongguk’s breath down your neck. He’d only let you go because your complaints to do homework got too loud for him to sleep properly, and you left him in his room like that: heavy-eyed and full of low murmurs for you to come back.

“You’ll miss me, right?” He’d asked. It sounded so innocent. Looked like it too when he stood next to you as you slipped on your shoes. The answer was easy.

“Duh.”

And it wasn’t like you weren’t affectionate. Sure, gaining the impulse to hug and squeeze him was one you had to work up to, but this came with new relationships, that novelty of being someone else’s: one that Jeongguk had no problems getting used to. Took you a little longer to warm up to his kisses in public but you’re here now. Here, slack-jawed at this distant intimacy. Feet mired in your shock, on the carpet of your front door.

You don’t remember feeling this desperate for Jeongguk before. 

[7:54 PM] You: i [7:54 PM] You: definitely wouldn’t be opposed

You lock your screen fast. Fling your shoes off, slap your jacket onto a hanger. You nearly bust your bedroom down in your hurry to get the fuck on the bed, like the rush of a late night with a stranger but Jeongguk is wholly familiar and isn’t even here to touch you. The ding of your phone is enough to keep you on your toes. You don’t swipe yet because already you’re sweating.

Aa…Jeongguk❣️: 1 Photo and 2 Messages

Should you take your clothes off? Or is he supposed to ask you to do that? Should you ask? What the fuck. This was too much.

You open it. It takes one second to download.

That’s his dick. Jeongguk’s dick, flash on, held up by the tips of his fingers at the base like he knows his angles. The tip is flushed with a wetness you’d lick right up if you were there just to feel the way he shivers under you.

[7:55PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Baby I’m so hard [7:55PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Wanna kiss you all over

You squeal. 

This was your boyfriend, mister-campus-hotboy, the one literally everyone got hard over and now he’s sending you his own personal dick pics. Maybe you do need to thank the high heavens one day because

What

The

Fuck is going on.

No matter. 

[7:57PM] You: i want u to [7:57PM] You: want u on top of me [7:57PM] You: with ur lips on my neck [7:58PM] You: getting me wet. u always make me. wet

You can’t wait anymore. Your shirt is off, bra tossed, back bare on your sheets. You shimmy out of your pants just as Jeongguk texts back.

[7:58PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Fcurck baby [7:59PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Can’t stop thinnking abt u [8:00PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: The way u sounded [8:00PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: When I was e ating u out [8:01PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: u tasted so good on m y tonguel fucckkkk [8:01PM] You: are u jacking off rn ??? [8:02PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Yess [8:02PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Touch urself [8:02PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Please?

Panties come off. It’s not a surprise when your finger is soaked in your arousal, teasing your clit and you sigh.

[8:02PM] You: fuck im so wet [8:03PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Yeah??? [8:03PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: What r u thinkgnin about [8:03PM] You: your mouth [8:04PM] You: on my tits [8:04PM] You: my cunt [8:04PM] You: u got me off sooo good [8:05PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Fuucckckk baby [8:05PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: You’re so hot ho ly shit [8:05PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Want u so bad [8:06PM] You: how??? [8:06PM] You: u already treat me so good [8:06PM] You: maybe i’’ll take care of u now hm? ?? [8:07PM] You: mymouth on ur dick [8:07PM] You: taste so good [8:08PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Shit

Everything was jumping out of your head so quick your one hand couldn’t keep up. The two fingers on your pussy dipped again, jolts of sweetness straight through your nerves when you rub yourself faster. Focusing on his texts was as easy as trying to stave your orgasm off, which… really wasn’t going too well, pelvis meeting the palm of your hand in a desperate kick.

[8:08PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Take your clothes off [8:09PM] You: past that

It takes him a minute.

[8:10PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Could you send a pic [8:10PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Pleas e

Oh. Okay.

You lean up on your elbow, push your chest against your bicep in the hopes that your cleavage could somewhat be evocative enough in the weak light of your phone. (You notice you forgot to turn the lights on.) The picture cuts off right above your nipples, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t do that just for the possibility of a desperate plea. You lie back down.

Sent.

[8:13PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: urruhguhgkehrdhfg [8:13PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Baby pleease I want more [8:14PM] You: of what ??? [8:14PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: FUck [8:15PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: I want you [8:15PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: On top of me [8:15PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Grnding yuor pretty pussy on my dick [8:16PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: You’re wet ik ur wet

Of course he would. He knows your body better than ever before, and you might tease him but the throbbing you’re attending to is too much of a distraction.

[8:17PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Can you imagine that [8:17PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Teasig my cock into you [8:17PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: But I won’t putnit in yet [8:17PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Bc I want u squirming o n top of me [8:18PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Ik u don’t beg [8:19PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: But I would ask u anyway if u want me to sink u down on my cock

Oh my god. The soft sucking sound of your fingers inside your cunt isn’t enough to drag you out of this reverie. It just sinks you deeper into this bliss Jeongguk spells out for you so well. He has you like putty. Your knuckles curve you into a hopeless whimper.

[8:20PM] You: i want that [8:20PM] You: iwa nt that so bad pleas [8:21PM] You: let me feel your dick inside [8:21PM] You: u want that so bad baby [8:21PM] You: to feel me squeezing around u [8:21PM] You: im so tight and wwt [8:22PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Wanna hear u  [8:22PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Ft [8:22PM] You: just call

You don’t think you could handle seeing his dick now. Especially when the build in your pussy is this close to tipping you into a climax he probably wants to hear.

Your phone blares in the quiet. “Baby—”

“I’m so close,” Jeongguk says. He sounds like he’s panting. “Tell me you are too. Please—!” He cuts himself off with a gasp.

“Y-Yeah.” You burn in his desperation, curling into your cunt in the spot you know would have you keeling over. “Ngh—!”

“I wanna hear you. Wanna—hear you when I fuck you. So—good.”

“Oh fuck—”

“You want that too baby?”

You heave. “Yes!”

“Let me hear you cum. Please. I’m so fucking close—”

“Jeongguk!” You sputter, moaning loud, crying in the extremity. It zips through your core, has you reeling, legs shaking as you rub it out so hard you arch from your bed. You barely register Jeongguk’s own completion.

“Fuck I’m cumming—shit!” He groans, long, noisy on the line but the image of his cum onto his hands has your stomach clenching. Clobbered by his own doing and it’s almost endearing how fucked out he sounds. There’s a moment where you hear fumbling, a distant breath; shifts in the mattress probably. “Baby…”

Your phone lights up again. 

Aa…Jeongguk❣️: 1 Photo

You don’t hesitate this time. 

His dick is wet, probably with his spit, but now his entire first is closed around it, dregs of his cum pooling in the suction of his palm against the pink skin. The urge to put your mouth on him is so over-whelming you groan in frustration.

“Want it in my mouth,” you say.

“You’ll make me hard again,” Jeongguk murmurs with a laugh.

It’s just past 8:30. “So. What got you so hard that had you begging for me over the phone?”

“Hm.” You move until you’re under the covers. A makeshift warmth because you don’t have Jeongguk to cuddle you for post-sex softness. “I don’t know. Just missed you. Again. Sorry if you had work to do.”

“No you’re not.”

“Yeah I’m not.” You think you hear him in the washroom. The vent is loud. “Made a mess.”

“Not my fault.”

“Uh, it kinda was. Hoping for more nipple next time.”

“Now you’re asking for too much,” you sigh. There’s a sleepy pull in your head, dragging you through the waves of feelings that currently bombard your heart. “I miss you too. Hope you’re not working too hard.”

“I have a bruise on my ass! Oh my god I forgot to tell you. But Hoseok checked me so hard for no fucking reason and—boom. Landed right on my booty.”

You coo. “Aw. Want me to kiss it better?”

“Yes please, it’s on my fatter butt-cheek I think.”

It dies down again. “So what stage are we at for your build-up?”

“Close to the finale.”

You can’t stop yourself from smiling. There’s only three days left till your prospective hells come to a head. Then it’s back to loving Jeongguk but closer to him this time, not through the cracked screen of your phone. “Can’t wait.”

“Me too,” Jeongguk says. “Guess—I should leave you to your work?”

As much as you want to say no, the pile of essays on your desk is calling for your ass to get moving. It sends a quick ripple of nervous tension down your spine but the sooner you get it done the sooner it is to texting Jeongguk again. You know he’s impatient too. “Yeah. Might stay up.”

“Not too late, okay? You’re almost there. And make that tea I bought you, it’s supposed to help with your headaches.”

You’ll cry. “I love you.”

“Love you too. Text me when you’re gonna sleep.”

You’re probably ovulating because a tear really does slip over your cheek. The stickiness between your thighs rubs your skin when you finally get up, avoiding the offensive stack of work in your periphery when the hints of a new headache start to come up. 

Jeongguk probably knew you were heading straight into another painful night of working. There’s a tin of loose leaf tea sitting patiently for you in your cupboard. And maybe taking on the teaching position wasn’t such a good idea, but then again, dates where everything loomed over you were inevitable. School’s a bitch. But you have an attractive boy waiting for you to finish, and that’s what prompts you to face the music. One more time.

Three more nights. 

The first night is actually okay. You get a page and half done, and Namjoon checks in with a text in the evening to make sure you aren’t pulling your teeth out. Jeongguk has practice the whole day. 

During the second night, you forget to save one of the articles you cited, and you spend a frantic hour searching through all your sources to trace it back. It’s a painful process and you almost cry, but you text Jeongguk and he sends you a selfie of him sending you a thumbs up. Your phone lags trying to scroll through the gigantic box of of hearts he texts you. You find the article. It’s good.

Third night and you’re about ready to give up. Jeongguk and Namjoon are both out of commission because apparently the universe hates all of you and you’re all busy with your respective work. But you have a page to conquer, and the onus is on you to show up with nice skin tomorrow because the department likes to take pictures to post online. The tea Jeongguk got you steams as you type diligently.

One

More

Word

Andit’sdone.

“Oh god,” you whisper to yourself. You scroll through your paper, making sure all your citations are right. Page numbers there. No excessive use of the first-person, your professor’s name spelt correctly. Formatted correctly.

It’s done.

You bask in the harsh light of your desk lamp, weight lifted off your shoulders the instant you save your document to submit online.

The assignment page loads, and you hit the button.

The line of your phone rings twice.

“Hello?” Jeongguk groans. It’s three in the morning. “Babe? Are you okay?”

“I FINISHED I SUBMITTED IT IT’S IN!” You yell. A genuine rise in your throat that has Jeongguk whooping with as much energy as his sleep-ridden voice can allow on the other side of the line.

“How do you feel?”

“Like I wanna hop on your dick right now.”

Jeongguk just snickers. Your eyebrows raise, because for sure he would’ve been choking. But maybe it’s because he’s tired. “Don’t tempt me into a boner, it’s too early for this.”

“Fuck—sorry. You have your game. Okay I’ll hang up. I’m gonna—sleep. Try to. Okay I love you! Sorry bye!”

“Sleep well. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You knock out the second your light is off and your head hits the pillow.

You asked Namjoon earlier in the day to call you awake because your ringtone is more annoying than your alarm. And even though the ceremony is later in the evening, you’re scared that you’ll sleep the entire day away. 

Jeongguk texts you before you’re up. A congratulatory message, and another saying that he’ll be at practice the whole day so he’ll try to text you at lunch. But the afternoon sun sees no text from him and you know it’s because he’s sweating his balls off on the hockey rink. Stubborn like you know he is but now you miss him again. 

One thing that sticks in your head the rest of the day: the thought of it being over. Because once you get your awards and hopefully get to see the end of the game, you get Jeongguk to yourself again. Two weeks of agonizing to get to this point all but crashes into your loins to spark a frighteningly hot fire, and now, once again, you’re left to fantasize about Jeongguk’s dick. You force yourself not to dwell on it too much, makeup a risk to your fidgeting and if the reason why you have an ugly picture up online is because you were longing for dick then—well. 

It’s Namjoon who greets you when you get to the conference hall downtown.

“You look good,” is all he says. 

You stick your tongue out at him. You had to redo your lipstick twice. “Shut up.”

He leads you to where he was sitting: the massive table stuck in the middle with the microphones sticking up along the perimeter. Maplewood and entirely unfitting for the green carpet, though Namjoon beats you before you can say anything mean. “If you look up front, that’s the Commissioner-General I was talking about.”

You look. She’s a petite woman, scarily thin, wearing a bright scarf. “Yoon Soomin,” you recognize.

“Correct.”

“Namjoon!” You hit his shoulder, and he winces with a grin. “Why didn’t you tell me!”

“Because I knew you’d get stressed!”

Well he’s goddamn right you’re stressed now. Yoon Soomin, Commissioner-General of one of the programs you had your eyes on for the past year now. Applications are open next week. You’ve had yours done for a solid six months, and now the head of the program is right here. In the flesh. Watching you about to get your award.

The chatter of all the other students is drowned out when the program head gets up for the commencement speech. “Good evening everyone. My name is Bae Joohyun. Thank you—”

Ding.

Namjoon kicks your shin. You silence your phone. It’s Jeongguk.

[7:39PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Hi babe hope u had a good day!!! Sorry I got distracted [7:40PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: But I know ur gna win like fifty awards so advanced congrats!!!!!!! Proud of ur big brain [7:40PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Love you [7:41PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: I hope you make it later pls try ur hardest but if u can’t it’s okay but like I would really appreciate if you. Came [7:41PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: OJO [7:42PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Heh Taehyung said that looks like me 

There’s clapping. You don’t know why everyone’s clapping but you do it too.

[7:42PM] You: pls don’t break any limbs while i am here i won’t be fast enough [7:42PM] You: love u. play smart not hard. i’ll be there for ur final goal 🤪 [7:43PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Anything for my scholar [7:43PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: You r so cute please come soon [7:44PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: I have to go now I LOVE You

“I will now invite the Student Chair Kim Namjoon forward to deliver a speech,” Professor Bae says.

No last text to Jeongguk because now you join the applause once more. Namjoon gets up with practiced ease, staggered steps of confidence because if anyone is going to get a PhD first, it’s him. And you know he applied for the program too.

It starts simple: “Thank you for coming today.” A celebratory gathering, gratitude for everyone’s hard work and commitment. A call for everyone to continue being ambassadors for the Humanities. Nothing you haven’t heard before. 

“I would also like to announce that the department has decided to award a special recipient tonight for their academic work and contribution to graduate research,” Namjoon continues. “The award will be presented by Yoon Soomin, Commissioner-General of the Anthropology for the Humanities Global Network. Please give your warmest applause to Doctor Yoon.”

Oh god. Your literal idol because she was just as interested in babies as you were and Jeongguk would for sure be goading you into a frenzy because of your shaking. But you clap as normally as normal clapping goes, and Doctor Yoon takes the mic.

“I’ll just head straight into it,” she says with a pretty smile. You catch Namjoon looking at you. He raises an amused eyebrow, and now you’re suspicious. “It is an honour to call upon ___, for their recent submission of pronatalist work based in Europe for the research study funded by the Global Network.” That’s—you. That’s you, and these are your legs moving on their own accord to the beat of the eager applause. You don’t look at Namjoon but you can hear him, because he’s clapping the loudest. “___ has been recognized before: for an outstanding submission in undergraduate research on cultural genocide, as well as active participation in the Anthropological department.”

Yoon Soomin extends a hand to you, as well as a pretty certificate gilded with bold letters in the form of your name. Again: all offered by Yoon Soomin. Again, you are shaking. 

“T—hank you,” you stammer, and her hand is soft in yours and you really just might cry but it’s probably because you’re exhausted. You’d slept for a solid ten hours but no amount of rest would have ever prepared you for her pretty voice congratulating you again. “I—It’s an honour.”

“Picture time,” Namjoon interrupts. He’s got his phone up. “Smile!”

“Congratulations again,” Doctor Yoon says. She grins like she knows something too, and the rest of the ceremony is static in your ears.

Like always, it’s repetition. A name called, award presented. Your name is exhausted three more times, and you’d cower under the attention but you worked too goddamn hard not get to this point. You think of Jeongguk, probably three to none even though it’s only been half an hour into the game. You and Namjoon are practically trembling when Professor Bae dismisses everyone.

Your jacket is on, purse about to swing over your shoulder when someone comes up to you.

“Hello.” Doctor Yoon again. “Oh—are you in a hurry?”

“Not at all,” you rush out. You can feel Namjoon vibrating too. “I—Thank you so much for presenting the award.”

“It was my pleasure. The overseas program application opens next week,” she advises, and you really might scream but you will yourself to stillness. “We don’t know where it’s based yet, but I hope that doesn’t discourage you from submitting your application.”

“Oh she’s been interested for years,” Namjoon offers. You elbow him. Doctor Yoon laughs. 

“I’m glad to hear that. Keep up the good work!”

You all but skirt around her with a quick thank you again! and make a mad dash out the building and to the underground train because Namjoon sucks and can’t drive on highways yet. “Good thing you didn’t wear heels because you’re so fucking slow.”

“Shut up,” you growl. The people on the sidewalk offer no space for you to slither through, and you grind you teeth with impatience. “And don’t give me shit when I beat you four to one.”

“Not everyone’s into babies like you are, genius.” You reach the closest subway entrance, a seedy staircase down into the dirty cement and your fare is paid with a drop of a coin; running for the departing train and you make it by the wisp of your hair. You sigh into an empty seat, Namjoon right next to you. “Time.”

It’s nearing 9:00. “Oh my god it’s almost done.”

“You’ll make it,” Namjoon says. The jostling ride is another twenty minutes, and you know it’s cutting it short but you promised Jeongguk. He’s so close. You’re out of breath. “So you’re free now, huh.”

“Yeah.”

“You worked hard.”

You scrunch your face in embarrassment. “Thanks Joonie.”

“I mean it,” he says. “No one deserves this more than you. Yeah? Cut yourself some slack.”

“I know—it’s just—I couldn’t be there for Jeongguk as much as I could have—” And it’s all coming out now. There’s only one other person on this cart other than Namjoon so you let yourself have the moment, the breakdown. The awfulness of preoccupation and missing your boyfriend and too much work. You don’t want to cry but the screech of the metal tracks makes it easier to hide. “‘M so fucking tired.”

Namjoon pats your back when you heave. “Two more stops. Then you can curse the gods all you want.”

Good incentive, because once the doors slide open on your stop you book it up the escalator as fast as your fatigue can allow. Luckily campus is right around the corner, cars taking up all the space on the road. Probably all here for the final match of the year, your university against the one a city over, and the cheers are so loud you hear it from the two sidewalks over. “Let’s go let’s go!”

And you and Namjoon run again, down to the set of doors of the arena nestled into the corner of your school. The doors are heavyset but you yank them like you’ll die if you aren’t inside within the next twenty seconds, and it’s only now that you feel the buzz of your phone from a text.

[8:58 PM] Jimin Bimin: I’m on the east side with taehyung, third from the bottom bleacher, mostly in the middle. hurry!!!!!!

Namjoon’s no doubt just following the beeline you make because even you can’t feel where your legs are taking you. All you know is the rush of school pride and the deafening yells of the crowd, lost bits of popcorn on the floor scrunching against your shoes as you search for Jimin. You see Taehyung first: warpaint on his face and he waves you over quickly, scooting over with a pull on Jimin to make room for Namjoon too.

“You made it!” Jimin screams and it still sounds like a squeak with the roar of the people everywhere.

But you ignore this, laser-beaming the rink for that familiar 97. You catch Jeongguk closely following the puck, stick clenched tightly in his fists, legs quick in their glide as the offence. You feel everyone’s bated breath, hands grabbing Jimin’s arm—the other team’s members flying past Jeongguk, the raise of the wood, a slap to the puck—

The red blares. The crowd goes wild. 

“HE WON!” Jimin screams and so do you, the wave of excitement passing over you like fairy dust and now everyone’s cheering. You have no idea what went on. But now all the boys off the rink jump over the barrier to grab Jeongguk in a hard throttle, arms tangled around each other, chant lost on your ears but they look so happy. 

Somehow, a body breaks away from the huddle, and now they’re skating in your direction. 

Jeongguk waves. You smile. A wave back, and now you have each other again.

You wait outside the building, watching as the throngs disperse. Namjoon, Taehyung, and Jimin already said their goodbyes, last felicitations from them both and a promise for lunch from you somehow gets squeezed from the conversation too. The brick is hard against your back.

[9:30PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: WHERE ARE YOU [9:30PM] You: i’m outside already!!

A door bursts open. There’s an inhale, then you turn your head. Jeongguk drops his bag the second you charge for him, arms ready for your attack as you jump and wrap your legs around his waist, arms caught on his neck. You think you hear someone gasp but it’s all lost on you now. “Oh my god I love you,” he breathes, and you cry. “Babe—”

“I watched you,” you sniffle, and you frown when he laughs. “Watched you win.”

“I’m glad.”

You kiss him. “Missed you.”

Jeongguk looks like he might cry too. “Mine again?”

“Yours again.” And you mean it. 

“I would—I would invite you over to the after-party but I’m sleepy,” he says in between presses of his mouth, “and I ran out of contact solution the other day so I can’t invite you over and also Taehyung’s probably sleeping right now.”

“Then you come over.” You melt into his tongue, his feet staggering in your grind and he bites your lip.

“R-Really?” 

“Yeah, actually get some shut-eye.” He lets you off when you wriggle your ass against his hands, dragging him to the bus stop before he can put them back against your jeans or else you might really fuck him this time. “Because Taehyung snores too loud anyway.”

The ride to your apartment totals eight minutes because it’s late, and living on the edge of the suburbs means no one’s up this late anyhow. Jeongguk hadn’t even let you find a seat, balancing through red lights on his feet just to fly out the door when you’d reached your stop. You’ve already done too much running today but Jeongguk still rushes you up to your floor, and before you can get the key to your door he has you pressed up on it instead.

“Want you,” he says. Hard against your throat like he means it.

“God—let me—open my door and you have me,” you say through your teeth, gritted because the hallways echo and now Jeongguk has his thigh pressed up against you. “Babe let go—”

He does, but only with a lingering kiss promised by your burning attraction. You don’t fumble with the lock but you do stumble in from how quick you open the door, slamming shut in your haste and you hear his duffel bag meet the ground and now your back meets the hard metal again. “You have to stop shoving me into this thing oh my god.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Jeongguk whispers. He’s kissing you again. Lifts you up with no warning and you yelp into his curious mouth, dick grinding into the rough of your pants. “Fuck I—”

“Did—you want to—”

“No—wait yes, yes—I just—” He doesn’t let up. You can feel his cock straining against his sweats, flimsy layers you could just shove down but his hips are glued to your own. “I can’t—cum. Right now. Too much. Wind—wound up.”

Your tailbone is starting to dig into the door. “Then let me down and let’s just—sleep.”

“I’m sorry,” he says. One last kiss, nose meeting yours. “Still on my hockey grind.”

“Ew,” you snort. “Also don’t wear your pants to bed.”

“Oh.” He shoves his shoes off when you do. 

“I don’t like it when people wear their outside clothes on my sheets.”

“Oh.”

“But it’d be nice to wake up to your dick on my ass,” you add. Jeongguk makes a strangled noise, then carries you to bed.

“I’ll brush my teeth tomorrow,” is the last thing you remember him saying. 

The morning rushes in too soon. Your curtains aren’t closed and Jeongguk hogs the blanket, sprawled on your side of the bed no less. You weren’t kidding when you said you wanted to spoon but at least his cock is warm with something just as soft as your ass.

You settle in the calm. Jeongguk isn’t one to snore but his soft breaths are just as jarring, disbelief apparent when you realize this is the first time he’s ever slept-over at your place. As convenient as it is to live somewhere that only needed one bus ride, you’re on campus all the time; making sense meant taking up space in his res instead. But now the lump he occupies in your bed is something you think you could get used to.

(Even if he hogs the blanket.)

You’re still in your clothes from last night, but at least you had the decency to shuck off your jeans. And you’d gotten up well past Jeongguk-sleeping-hours to take off your makeup because it took you forever to pry his ridiculously strong arm off around you. You get up with a kiss to his mane of bedhead and a silent reminder to grab an extra toothbrush.

The next plan to execute on your list after washing the tired off: breakfast. And you know you don’t have eggs but you open the fridge like you’ll see the carton sitting there anyway.

You’re standing, coming to a blank for what feels like forever. You think briefly about ordering in, then remember the guilt of just grabbing groceries instead. The internal battle is cut short when you hear the creak of your bed, a long groan. Then, footsteps.

“You look sad,” Jeongguk croaks two seconds later.

You frown for effect. “I want eggs. And why are you up.”

“Come here, egghead.” Jeongguk is groggy. The sexy kind too, because his voice is a tenor that scratches the needier part in you, the one telling you to bury your face in his chest and you do just that. “I felt you move. Sorry I couldn’t wake you up with my dick against your butt.”

“S’ok. And go shower because you’re stinky.”

He lets you go. “Good morning,” he says for the first time. A domesticity you feel lightheaded from. “You should shower with me.”

“Unless you’re scared of detachable shower heads I think you’ll be fine.”

“Don’t be cocky,” he whines. “And you’re dirty too, you sweat a lot just like I do.”

That’s true. “But it’s not even a hair washing day.”

“Why are you resisting me, woman.” He brings two hands up, wiggling his fingers. “I’ll tickle you.”

“You will not—”

“I will tickle you and if you don’t shower with me I will cry.”

You huff. “Fine.” He leads you down the hall to the bathroom, satisfied in his quick win, back flexing when he takes his shirt off. “And I’m the cocky one.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he says. You know he’s baiting but you don’t want to resist him anymore. “You need to turn the shower on because I don’t know how to.”

Getting naked is a different kind of intimate when you’re not in the bedroom. You know this because Jeongguk can’t even look your way when you’ve stripped, but you’re shivering like he’s staring.  You step into the tub before he can back out. He doesn’t come in till the water’s running.

You like it hot. Jeongguk—not so much by the looks of his hesitation, so you compromise with a slight shift of the knob and a switch in place so he’s under the pelt of water. He’s all hard muscle under your hands. “Hope you like cherry blossom.”

He doesn’t say anything. Grabbing the loofah you spurt your pink soap, lathering it on his chest first. Jeongguk just stares. “I really missed you,” he says.

You nod. Nodding fast to keep yourself from thinking too hard because then you might start getting soft. “Me too,” you croak out. “Want me to wash your hair?”

Jeongguk just brushes his lips against yours in answer. You’ve just reached over his shoulders to get the back of his neck but he forces you back into the tiles, back inundated with cold hardness and there’s no room for complaint when your tits press against Jeongguk’s skin like this. He groans a desperate sound into your pliant mouth. “I—I don’t wanna wait anymore.”

You pause. “For what?”

“I don’t—know—I—just having you here again. Makes me want to do everything.”

You are enveloped in mist and so much longing. “Let me finish then we’ll—go back.” You don’t know if you want to focus southward because one look at his dick and you’ll fall to your knees. “Turn around.”

He does. The glass of the divider fogs up in your intimacy. You give a half-hearted scrub along his skin, focusing on the grime you can’t see. Can’t think.

“Okay you know—I think we’re good,” you say, voice tight.

“Come here.” Jeongguk spins to find you again, a hard kiss into you and you feel his dick press up against your stomach. “Towels.”

“Turn off the shower.” You push open the door, shaking legs dripping onto the floor as you scramble to wrap yourself in warmth other than Jeongguk. He grabs the other one, quick passes over his skin before he drops it to the floor and nearly bowls you over to get you out into the bed room.

It’s bright. Jeongguk reads your mind. “Can I—shut the blinds?”

“Please.”

He goes to twist the plastic while you dry off the last remnants of water clinging to your skin, and before you know it Jeongguk has you lain flat across the tangled blankets, legs dangling from the side of the bed. “God I tried really hard to have a normal morning with you but I—just can’t anymore.” He kneels over you. “Please tell me you feel the same.”

You could go on about how quick the one-eighty was. From your thoughts about breakfast to this absolutely insatiable need for your boyfriend to insert whatever valid body part he could use into your pussy. But you and Jeongguk are never conventional, and going too fast is an illusion now. 

You have each other again, and no one’s counting the seconds anymore.

“Will you fuck me?” You ask.

“Yes,” he decides, and he unwraps the towel you’d clung onto before pressing downwards and caving into your lips. “I—have never wanted you so goddamn bad in my life, oh my god.”

“Good,” you choke on your breath because Jeongguk slips down your throat with his tongue and a pucker of his lips. “Ah—!”

A bloom of your slick runs through your cunt when he sucks hard on your skin, thumbs a shy presence on your breasts but they peak under the pressure. “You have the cutest tits,” he says. 

“Shut up.” You flare with embarrassment. “You can—be more rough.”

Jeongguk twists your nipples and you pant. “Like that?”

“Suck on them too. Make it—hurt.” His eyes flutter, determined in your command. Mouth a hot suction, laving you with his spit. His teeth graze in a bite and you moan. “Fuck—yeah. That’s so good…”

He stays like this: feeding into your sounds with sloppy grips of his tongue, suckling till your tits pop out his mouth and your hands find the nape of his neck in desperation. “Ugh—please—”

Jeongguk slurps on a nipple. “Get up there.”

You scramble up the bed, comfortably nestled in the centre and Jeongguk’s fingers go to spread your pussy,   cheeks heating in the sound of wet. He sighs.

“Do you want to cum now?”

You dip your head. “Please.”

He settles on his stomach, diving in to latch onto your clit, sucking that has your head thrown back further with every inch he covers with the jerk of his tongue. Honed in on the dangerous tip that could have you teetering over in a second and your hips pull back, but his hands take your bucking and locks you down to his attention. Too much so and now you wail. “Oh my g—od.”

Curses caught in the grit of your teeth because now he licks the stretch of your cunt like he’s thirsty. Jeongguk’s good at making you want more when you don’t know what means. “Gonna—use a finger.”

“Fuck, yeah. Yeah.” He curls in and up, a sweet crevice touched. Eyes rolling back as you puff. “Holy fu-uck yeah, finger it.”

“Wanna beg?” He suggests. Challenging.

“You’re asking me to?”

“I’m begging you to,” Jeongguk snickers.

“Then—” you settle up on your elbows, watching the minute thrusts into your cunt like a lazy cartoon— “please use another finger. And—make me cry this time.”

His eyes bulge in your confidence. Pulls out; now there’s two hard intrusions and it digs into a sweeter part inside, a touch that has you keening right into the pillow, drool smearing on the sheet. Clit sitting pretty on his wet tongue and you’d let him have it all day if he asked. Then Jeongguk thrusts in a drill so hard you vibrate. “O-O-Oh my fuuuuuuck—”

He curves into your loudness. “So fucking sexy,” he praises, rushing right through you and onto his fingers. “So wet—”

“Ugh—!” Your sobbing isn’t a tearful one but the scratch in your throat is smarting. Jeongguk swipes right over your nub. Leans up, fingers still a consistent presence and now his tongue is teasing yours, a muscle spasm more than anything and you can’t fucking breathe.

“Sit on my face,” he says.

“You—really?”

“I might cum.” Oh. He looks at you, eyes a wonder of pleasured agony. Probably because he’d been grinding into the sheets like last time but now you’re even more gone.

“Okay,” you gulp, and Jeongguk rolls over. Knees above his shoulders, using his elbows to slide along the mattress till you’re settled comfortably over his eager mouth. “You okay?”

“Fuck yeah.” He pulls on your thighs until his neck doesn’t strain up anymore, a stretch you can ignore if only to feel the traction of his rough love on your sensitivity. “This is—so hot.”

“Are you—pulling on pornographic roots right now?”

He hums into a suction. “Yeah.”

“What else have you thought about?” You can’t see his entire face from your view, but his forehead is scrunched. Thinking hard for you.

“Nothing—crazy,” he says. He kisses your leaking cunt. “Always wanna make you feel good. But it’d be hot if I choked you, yeah.”

“Oh—”

“Whatever you like,” Jeongguk decides. “I like whatever you like.”

“I would like it if you made me cry,” you contend.

He doesn’t say anything else. Jeongguk squeezes your ass, neck straining to get you dribbling on the tip of his tongue, pleasure pulled from the bottom of your stomach into moaning so loud you’re worried for the thinness of your walls. “Oh my god I’m close—don’t stop—”

Your pussy grinds right into it. His fingers are lax on your skin like he’s given up if it means you feed into your own demise. And you do: grating all your nerves from Jeongguk’s insistence into your sex and your hands tangle into his hair. “Oh fuck I’m—Jeongguk—!”

The feeling settles heavy in your pussy. Taken with a vehemence you’d praise forever and Jeongguk is nothing but passionate, a power translated through all his work and one he insists on when he paints your cunt like it’s his favourite thing to do. His hands tighten their grip on your ass, nearly falling over when his tongue slides like that—

“I’m cumming—oh my god I’m—fuck!”

Your eyes sting. It bursts—starting on Jeongguk’s tongue and spreading so fast you can’t tell up from down.  Moans wrenched from your chest and you can’t catch your breath, even when you push yourself off from Jeongguk because you can’t stop riding into it. “Ah—oh fuck.” You’re sniffling.

“Babe wait did I actually make you cry?”

“Yes you idiot, come here.” And Jeongguk crawls over you, kiss-ready, lips wet on yours. “Do you—is it—are you okay? Do you wanna try now?”

“Sure,” he says. “I just—might not last too long.”

“We take it slow,” you say. He nods. “Got condoms?”

Jeongguk looks sheepish but he nods again. “Please don’t ask me why I have them on me.”

“I’m asking why you have them on you.”

He groans. “Let me just—get them from my bag.” And he runs, hard penis and all, outside to the bag he’d left outside in your haste to the bed. He’s not even gone for two seconds before he has the string of foil in his hand. “Remember there was a party last night? Taehyung gave them to me just in case—you know. Something happened.”

“Good friend. Do you—have lube too?” 

Jeongguk pales. “No.”

“Come here,” you order instead, because you’re ridiculously wet anyhow. He gets closer, lying down when you push his chest down. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. Just wanna kiss you.”

He lets you. You stay in this moment, a precursor to a new era if you were being dramatic about it. But having him so soft and yielding under you like this makes you want to enjoy it, bit by bit. “I love you,” he says.

You mold into him. “I love you too.” Reaching over for one of the foils, you tear it as Jeongguk stares with a still chest. The condom rolls easily. “Okay?”

“Yep.”

Then you sit on top of him, your own breath caught in the butterflies jumbled in your stomach, a flit when his hands come to rest on your thighs. Nerves tangling with his and you feel the low tremors in his body. Your pussy glides along his dick lying pretty on his stomach. You tangle your hands with his. “Don’t be nervous,” you whisper.

Jeongguk gulps. “Just—kiss me again.”

You lean back down, his hands tightening yours when you meet him again. “Are you okay?”

His eyes are closed. “Yes—yes. You can put it in. Please.”

“Just—say the word and I’ll stop.”

He nods.

There’s a lump in your throat. You want it to be good for him. The griping all his friends did had done a great deal for your sex life, yeah. But the point of his comfort was crossed so many times you feared he’d back out by this time. And now he waits: waits for your go, on your own time, because the last thing he wanted to do was pressure you too. You know it in his attention, his quiet insistence on making you cum first. His patience for you to come back to him. Waiting so that you could get comfortable before he did, because he’s only ever comfortable when you are. 

You hold the base of his dick, tip straight below your core, positioned at the height of both your breaths.

You sink down.

It’s a scarcity, to feel this good from the get-go. A prodding that pinches a little stretches you right, Jeongguk’s length gloved in your heat, so much heat because he groans. “Oh my god.”

“Is that—okay?”

“Yes—”

His hands find your hips when your knees drop down even further. Slow, slow, slow; so wet because he makes you feel it—until you bottom out. Jeongguk shivers. “Tell me—when I can move.”

You watch his eyebrows scrunch up, teeth gritting when you shift to ease the weight on your legs. “I’m good. I’m good, please move, fuck.”

You do. You pick up to an easy pace, not straining yourself but enough for the tip of his dick to hit a spot in your gut that has you cooing. Your hands find his chest. “Ooh—fuck yeah.”

“Is it good—for you?” Jeongguk pants, bucking his hips when he watches your tits bounce. 

“Yeah. Feels so good…” You trail off, getting used to the feel of something so much thicker than his fingers. A burn you can’t say you haven’t missed, teasing your insides and you squeeze.

“Baby—that—fuck—” He’s sweating. His forehead shines, hair caught on his skin. His chest is a flushed, wet where your palms meet him because you’re getting a little winded now. But the little grunts he lets out every time you bounce is enough to keep you going. 

“Do you think—you can cum like this?”

His grin is sheepish. “N-No.”

You opt for a closer grind then. “How do you want me?”

“Your back,” he says, hesitant. “Let me—fuck you from the edge of the bed.”

You can do that. You lift up till his dick lies wet on his belly, sheets a mess under your bum when you let Jeongguk get up to move you the way he wants. He stands, one knee on the mattress as he spreads your legs, pussy served like it’s his to take. Makes a grab for his dick; jostles around a bit on your clit to see your hole tighten, stomach clenched. 

He presses in slow just to see you shiver. In control of your pleasure again, and you sigh into the sheets. 

“Oh my god.” You grasp the blankets, elbows strong to watch what you now know is the visual of Jeongguk fucking you. A little stilted in his rhythm, but only because he’s getting used to the feel of your pussy like this. 

You don’t care for the semantics of proper fucking. As long as his hips meet your ass in the beat you can only call nasty. The squelch of your arousal is loud. “Fuck—baby…”

“Yeah—feels so good.” Buried deep in your walls and maybe you could learn the ridges of his dick like this: lain here for him to use, cunt fit only for his pleasure. A position you’d gladly take everyday from now on because fuck if this isn’t heavenly. 

You know he feels it too when his chest picks up in his panting, dick a piston now and you mewl. 

“Yeah—faster, baby—like that—!”

“Shit—” Smearing your walls with your own slick, made for him to dirty. A push so vigorous you would be sliding if it weren’t for Jeongguk’s tight hands on you, and all you can do is take it. “Babe I’m close—”

And he bends down, kissing you with a pant into your mouth because he’s getting spent, efforts all going into your pleasure. He still thrusts. “Cum. Cum when you can, fuck.”

“What about—”

You shut him up with another press of your lips. “I’m fine.”

He leaves it at that. Jeongguk leans up again, adjusting one more time till he’s got both knees on the bed, cock a heady presence inside your sex and he gives it hard now. You’re trying not to squeeze so hard around him but it’s getting difficult; seeing him so focused, his eyes wild, sweat dripping on his shoulders. Sweltering in your heat and love and novelties—defiling him but in the best way possible. “I love you,” he chokes. “Oh my god I might—”

“Give it to me,” you whisper.

He does. Your pussy is still in Jeongguk’s indulgence, his whines escalating until he groans out: “I’m cumming—”

Jeongguk slams into you, a final push for your core and he croons into your neck. Streams of his pleasure in the form of a long sigh, his pulses inside. And maybe you’re dumb but you’re laughing and crying again, arms wrapping around his neck, swaying him back and forth as he calms down. 

“How was that?” You ask.

He’s crying, too. You wipe his under-eye when he takes one more kiss. “Best ever,” he says. “I’ll make you cum.”

“You don’t need to—” But his thumb is already on your clit, still wet from his doing and you force your hips to stillness— “Jeongguk no—”

“I wanna feel you cum around my dick,” he says, and the plea is enough for you to tighten and cry even more. It hurts, a nudge of pain but it’s already beginning to spread into pleasure—

“Jeongguk—”

You cum into his kiss, walls clenching into an orgasm so sweet your toes tingle. A ripple of pleasure running through all of you and he moans like he feels it too. 

Out of breath. It’s hot under his skin.

“So. Who do we tell first?”

Jeongguk laughs. “Maybe we can decide over breakfast.”

And you feel something, better than orgasmic bliss, the pleasure of a tryst: the simplicity of being in love. Jeongguk makes you feel like you can do anything.

“Eggs?” You ask.

His tongue is sweet. “Eggs.”

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #bts #jungkook #f: one time in your room #ubemango fic

[idle-writer]

His Place

HIS PLACE

fandom: Detroit: Become Human

pairing: Nines (RK900) x Reader

word count: 1.75k

warnings: none

A/N: This is for the lovely anon who asked for more DBH content (I wish I know who you are so I can tag you, hope you like this!)  I hope you all enjoy reading :)

_______________

You hear someone calling your name, followed by knocks at your door. Peering through the peephole, you see a delivery guy holding a clipboard, a big human-sized box beside him. You slightly open your door, bolt still on, cautious since your part of the neighborhood isn’t exactly the safest. “How can I help?”

He says your name, and you nod. He points his thumb at the huge box. “Delivery for you.”

“I just need you to sign here and here,” he hands you the clipboard, which you refuse.

“I didn’t order anything.”

“I hauled this big heavy thing four flight of stairs. Just accept the thing so I can leave.” The man taps his foot impatiently at the floor.

Sighing, you take the clipboard from him and sign your name. He gestures for you to open the door so he can wheel the box in and you let him. He asks where he can put it down in which you pointed at a random space at your living room.

After the delivery guy has left, you inspect the box. Nothing seems out of ordinary except for its size. Grabbing a pair of scissors, you decide the box will not open on its own. You carefully drag the sharp edge of the scissors to free the box from it seal. Opening the flaps your eyes widen at what you inside. There inside the box is a man - dark chestnut hair, his chiseled face littered with few freckles, thin lips in pursed in a straight line, his eyes closed. Is he dead?! Panic surges through you, and you do something that people shouldn’t do when they see an assumedly dead body – you poke it. On the cheek. Which is incredibly soft, and cold? You shriek when you see steel grey eyes staring back at you.

“Apologies for startling you. My name is Nines,” his voice is rich and you are immediately drawn to it. “…and I’ll be your android companion.”

You open and close your mouth, gaping like a fish out of water, confused as hell as to what and why is this happening. “Android companion? I didn’t… oh god.”

Quickly pulling up your phonebook you search for his number. Only he can pull this kind of prank. The person on the other line hasn’t even said hello when you starts yelling at him, “I swear to god, Gavin Reed. Did you just send me an android boyfriend?!”

The boisterous laughter on the other line confirms your suspicions. Gavin is a childhood friend. When you were younger, he teased you mercilessly for not having a boyfriend, and you kept telling him it was because you hang around with a jerk like him too much. And when he went to the Academy, you just lost contact with each other. Until the other day, when he walks into the same café you usually get your coffee.

“You look so lonely reading your book with only a cup of latte or whatever,” you swear you can hear the snicker on his voice. “Just try and give it a few months, yeah?”

You sigh and shake your head, knowing there’s no saying no to Gavin Reed. Still as stubborn as ever.

“Fine fine fine,” you glance at the android standing at the middle of your living room, he seems to be inspecting his new environment. “But don’t they require. I don’t know. Maintenance?”

“Don’t worry about it. I have it covered. Plus that’s the latest model of its kind. It uh does it’s own self maintenance. So yeah gotta go. Bye.”

“Wait-“ you have a lot of more questions but before you can ask, he has already dropped the call.

“Is there a problem?”

You jump back, startled by the voice near your ear. It’s not everyday you have a male companion – human or android – in your living space. “No, I just haven’t done this before.”

He nods at your words, “I’d hate to make you uncomfortable in your own place. So let me know if I have to make adjustments to my configuration.”

“No, no. It’s fine. Just be yourself,” you give him a friendly smile, “This is your place now, too.”

_______________

Nines is seating in an almost 90 degree angle on the couch, feet planted to the floor, his eyes are trained forward, his LED spinning yellow. For the one month, you’ve been together, you’ve learned a lot of things about him, and he about you. You begin to notice his small mannerisms like how he subtly tilts his head to the side when he thinks.  

He begins to notice the way your eyes crinkle when you smile, or how you gently pats his arm when you laugh at something funny on the television. He also notices that there are days when you’re completely worn out from your job, but you still give him a smile and does your usual chores, ending up with you passing out on your bed.

You flop down beside him on the couch.  “Thanks for cleaning up the place by the way.”

“It’s my –“

“Yeah, yeah, it’s your job. Whatever. Still thank you,” leaning your head on his shoulder, you close your eyes. You can’t help but feel how nice it is to go home from work and find someone waiting for you. You are almost on the edge of falling asleep when you feel yourself being shaken awake.

“You have a perfectly fine bed."

“Nah, I’m perfectly fine here,” you bury your face on his shoulder, “This is my place now.”

You wake up the next day, still in the couch, blanket sitting lightly on your shoulders. You don’t know how you got into that position with your knees bent on the couch, head resting on Nine’s lap. There’s a slight soreness in the back of your neck but you don’t mind. All you can feel is the gentle caress of his fingers through your hair.

_______________

You are walking up the stairs to your apartment, silently cursing your building for not fixing the goddamn elevator. Nines is trailing beside you, finding it adorable amusing how you’re stopping every five steps to take a breath, a sound similar to a chuckle coming from him.

You are almost on your floor when something flashes by and bumps in to you. The impact so hard you feel air get knocked out of you. With your balance lost, you stumble backwards. You shut your eyes and brace yourself for the fall that didn’t come.

Nines holds you firm to his chest, “Are you alright?”

When you don’t answer, he turns you around. His eyebrows are knitted as his steel eyes frantically scans your body – neck, shoulder, wrists -  for any injuries.

“Nines. I’m okay.”

As if he doesn’t hear you, he drops on his knees and continues fussing over you, his LED spinning in quick red circles.

Using both your hands, you cup his head to make him look at you, “Nines. I’m okay. I’m fine.”

You watch as his LED slows down. Red. Yellow. Never letting go as it reaches Blue.

“You’re okay,” he mumbles more to himself than to you. “You’re okay.”

That night he tucks you to bed. You jokingly asks if he wants to share the bed with you, when he doesn’t respond, you squeeze his hand, bidding him a silent good night. He spends a few minutes standing at a dark corner of your room, watching you sleep.

The next day you wake up, he’s nowhere to be found.

_______________

It has been a week since you last saw Nines. You even contemplated tracking him down, maybe he has a GPS tracker or something, only stopping when you realize how weird that’ll be. He’s not some dog you own you can just track and put missing posters up for. He left for a reason. And the more you think about it, the sadder you get. The couch feels a lot bigger. Your apartment feels a lot emptier. Life feels a lot suckier.

A loud banging on the door followed by yell, “Police open up!”

What if they found Nines and?

You scramble to your feet and open the door. Your vision going red when you see Gavin Reed laughing on the other side. You swing a punch at him, connecting at his jaw. “You jerk!”

“What?” his signature stupid smirk on his face,  “I am police.”

“I told you, detective. That was not a good idea.”

The familiar voice freezes you on the spot. Tears starting to sting the back of your eyes. Nine is safe. He’s okay.

“Suddenly, you know her better than me? I know her since – ” Reed jeers. He turns to you , only to see you crying, face hidden in your hands. “ – woah – are you crying? You punched me yet you are the one crying.”

Your sobs becomes louder, barely muffled by your hands. Reed silently pleads for help to the android who is now glowering at the detective. Nines ushers you inside your apartment, and seats you in the couch - the same couch you two spent hours just seating side by side. Nines wraps his arms around you, letting you cry on his chest. The clean crisp smell of his clothes no longer sharing the smell of your own detergent, instead it reminded you of the first time you met him.

He waits for your tears and your shaky sobs to halt, and for your heart to rest in a steady beat. He waits for he knows you waited long enough.

And when you are able to calm down, he holds you hand, rubbing gentle circle with his thumb, gauging your reaction, calming your distress as he explains. He is sent undercover to survey the building. The guy who bumped in to you week ago is actually a wanted criminal, and if ever you see something that night, you’ll be in deep trouble that’s why Nines had to leave and make sure to capture the guy as soon as possible. His words falls in your deaf ears, your mind focusing only on two words.

“An undercover mission, huh? Just a mission. Just doing your job.” You try to act normal but ended up cracking miserably, “Why did you return then…”

Thoughts of him saying his goodbye springs in your mind, just as fresh tears does.

“I have nowhere to return to but here,” he squeezes your hand, “I was told this is my place, too.”

He will never say it out loud, at least not right now. His place is with you.

#dbh rk900 #rk900 x reader #dbh nines x reader #nines x reader #idle-writer #detroit become human #dbh imagine #dbh fanfic

[bbhyeoliskooks]

Hi, could you make a scenario when one day txt wake up with cat/dog ears and tails on them? I was thinking of this bc I saw how taejun are called 냥냥즈 (kittenz XD) and the rest are 댕댕즈 (puppiez XD). Thank you so much and also, I love your carrd XD

﹡⊹﹡ 𝟐𝟒 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬, 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐏𝐞𝐭? ﹡⊹﹡

Cat boys and dog boys were certainly the end of you... 

﹤⳾⳾⳾ U・ﻌ・U ..﹡⊹﹡.. ໒・ﻌ・७  ⳾⳾⳾﹥

Genre: 9 3/4 cups of fluff !!

Warnings: Unedited~~

Song: Cat and Dog

(Omg, I'm so sorry that this took so long! As you can expect, this girl who wrote it had a project right here and needed to do it before the due date since she procrastinated??? Yes that, but i'm so sorry that it’s a bit short too :cc However, I hope you enjoy! I wrote this in an hour, so I hope it’s good enough !)

﹤⳾⳾⳾  /ᐠܻܻ   ့⑅ܻᐟ\  ..﹡⊹﹡..（๑´ﻌ｀๑）⳾⳾⳾﹥

"Y/N, Y/N! Wake up, please wake up!"

At eight am in the morning, the side of your cheek was being tickled with something soft...? Something... something... wait, is that supposed to be fur? Yeonjun's velvety voice echoed through the room worriedly as if there was an important event you were missing, and you could say you were tempted to open your eyes until you remembered one, particular thing.

Groaning quietly, you turned to the side while shaking your head in annoyance. If this was another one of his pranks, you swore you were going to punch him in the gut for disrupting your beauty sleep. You shouldn't expect so much from him when you knew he should've been sleeping during this time anyway. Normally you'd gone up to help him, but after everything that happened this week it was safe to say you wanted nothing to do with him- yet. This was one of the only days you could catch up on sleep after stressing about the things you had to do, and you weren't going to lose it to some tiny prank he'll laugh about all day.

For a few moments, you thought he was finally going to leave you alone, the silence being refreshing for you to fall back into the soft arms of comfortable sleep. Well, that was until the boy screamed into your hear again.

"Y/NNN," he whined, tugging your blanket enough to make it scramble off the bed, landing on the floor with a quiet yet noticeable, ploof.

Okay, this was enough.

Throwing the pillow you were holding so dearly in your arm with a harsh grimace quickly permeating throughout your face, you were going to slap him away when you noticed that in your blurry vision... there were grey, furry cat ears on Yeonjun?

It wasn't your usual cat ears on the headband that kids bought whenever they wanted to pretend to be a feline, but those grey cat ears were seemingly attached to his head, almost as if it was sewn into the crown of his head. Stunned, you gasped at the sight, your right hand flying up to cover your dropped mouth.

His eyes were blown wide in pure innocence too, causing you to subconsciously gush at the sight. They both watched your movements intently, sparkling with what you could see mischievousness as well. From before, you knew that they were like this but... they weren't as gigantic and cute from before?!

You weren't able to stop yourself now, rubbing on his ears as he sighed in euphoria. As you expected, the ears were soft and you petted them all the more, feeling satisfied when you felt him seemingly purr due to what you assumed, your touch. He melted into your embrace, nuzzling his cheek against your neck while you giggled with delight.

"Yeonjun, what did you do? Question is, how did you do this all without me knowing?" It was at the very least to say that Yeonjun was simply adorable as his fur tickled the top of your chin, choosing to snuggle up against your chest in blissfulness.

From the corner of your eye, you could see his grey tail lazily spin around in circles while you ran your fingers through his freshly dyed, hair. You weren't sure how he became like this, but you had to admit that you weren't complaining! It was a secret to everyone that you adored cat boys and now that Yeonjun was like this, you could feel your heart swell with joy.

"I didn't do anything," he murmured, closing his eyes when you scratched the back of his ears, "I just woke up like this, next to you." A content smile spread throughout his face and you could feel your own human ears burn from how nonchalant he was about that last sentence. You couldn't recall how you didn't feel him squeeze up next to you last night while you slept soundly, but obviously there were no complaints either.

"Hey, it's alright! We'll figure this out later when all the other boys wake up. Maybe at least one of them would know these things?"

Speaking of the devil, you heard the door slam open with two of the boys running around in circles just to see you. They ceased their steps at the doorway, paralyzed when they both saw Yeonjun in your arms, stopping as if they walked into something they shouldn't have.

The amount of gasps you elicited once you saw them, gently pushing Yeonjun away from you, your steps carrying you towards Beomgyu whose sighed mixed with a low groan. His ears were ones of a golden puppy dog, twitching when you neared closer, pressing up a hand against the top of his head. Oh my goodness, talk about cuteness 1000%?!

Taehyun, on the other hand, was adorned with brown cat ears, revolving around in circles when you stared at him with wide, surprised eyes. He didn't allow you to touch his ears until you shot him a grin- a sign you weren't going to do anything bad to him. Eventually he softened up, turning his head to the side so that you wouldn't see his cherry cheeks while you petted him.

Yeonjun then stomped to the three of you, clinging onto your back with possessiveness. There wasn't anything much that happened other than him waking up with cat ears and a tail to along with that as well, but when you easily got up just to wonder thoughtlessly about their condition, he felt himself burning up from the inside with jealousy. Maybe it was his instincts that came along- like he noticed the first time you petted Beomgyu- but there was no denying he was turning green.

You laughed at the predicament, shaking your head without a care in the world. What really happened last night that you didn't know of? They couldn't have been that bored that they figured out how to appear as hybrids when they woke up.

"You guys... don't tell me that the rest of you are like this too? Because Yeonjun woke up with cat ears, although it can't get that much worse..."

You spoke too soon.

Another pair of puppy dog ears bust through the doorway, budging between the clingy bodies of Taehyun and Beomgyu while panting loudly. Your face turned white at the sight, all the warmness in your forehead disappearing without a trace. Why were you shocked at this point? If the three of them woke up with new body parts, then there would be no surprise if the rest of them did as well.

Your smile could only grow even wider, taking in the endearing pile of boys who zoomed close enough to feel their breath against your nose. Both Kai and Soobin were both playful puppies along with Beomgyu too?! Yes, and with the ears and tails too that stirred in several shapes! You held back a high-pitched scream that could possibly damage their sensitive drums. 

“Soobin...? Kai...? The same thing happened with you too?” 

They just had to be the cutest babies you’d ever seen before, despite them fiddling with their fingers in a nervous fit in fear that you weren’t going to like it.

“No, no, no! I’m the one who should protect Y/N since I was the first one she saw,” Yeonjun whined, pulling you against his chest. You fell against his warm embrace, feeling the corners of your lips turn into a tiny grin that clearly didn’t go unnoticed by the others. 

“Yeonjun, that’s not fair! You didn’t even let us get a chance with her yet!” Soobin pulled you away from Yeonjun and you giggled at the two of them fighting as Taehyun spoke up again.”

“Um first of all, we shouldn’t expect a lot from her? She wouldn’t want to be near any of your musty as-”

“Shut up Taehyun!” They all yelled, and you groaned at how complicated the problem became now.

You ran your hands over your face, the fatigue in your body definitely catching up after staying up to turn in an important document. All of this yelling back and forth about who was going to spend time with you got to your tiredness, and you made a suggestion of which you hoped with all your heart that they would accept. 

“Guys, I know I’m the only one who needs sleep here after staying up into the wee hours of the night, but can we please figure this out when I’m more awake? I need to get some sleep for the time being so that I can understand these things.”

You weren’t surprised when they all cuddled up against you while you tried to doze off for the nth time. 

﹤⳾⳾⳾ U・ﻌ・U ..﹡⊹﹡.. ໒・ﻌ・७  ⳾⳾⳾﹥

“Oh my gosh! They’re adorable, aren’t they?!”

“Who could’ve believed this would happen?

“Awwe, Y/N with fluffy ears? This must be a disease!”

“Beomgyu, hurry up and take some pictures!”

Kai’s voice was the last thing you heard in your sleep then you stirred, taking a look at all the boys who crowded around you. 

What was happening now? It must’ve been two hours since you dozed off, your eyes landing on the clock that read 10:47am. Tiredly, you stretched and the whispers of the boys grew louder with every second that passed. Your arms made contact with something soft and you assumed that was one of the boys ears until you felt something so foreign twitch on the top of your head. It was almost like... almost like- wait a minute!

Now the same exact thing was happening to you. 

---

Posted: 2/27/21- 5:00pm

Tags: 

#*｡『 keah’s requests !』｡*

[lilbabycee]

Taking care of Steve and his wild thots after he accidentally eats some pot brownies u made for urself

brownies // steve rogers

↳ pairing: steve rogers x reader 

(not my gif - credit to the creator!)

love it!:

it’s not often that you get the opportunity to bake for yourself because being an avenger is tiring work

but you, clint and natasha like to indulge in a little bit of fun every now and then

(you don’t even wanna talk about what happened that one night in budapest)

so you all take turns procuring a variety of edibles, whether it be cookies or gummy worms

today, it’s your turn and you decide that you wanna bake instead of buy them and so you do, leaving your brownies to cool on the rack on the counter as you go to the gym to spar with clint

everyone on the team knows what you three do every other wednesday, so when bucky, wanda and sam are drawn to the wonderful smell emanating from the kitchen, they know to walk right past the baked goods because they are most definitely not regular brownies

but it seems like your sometimes oblivious boyfriend - bless his heart - still hasn’t gotten the message

the blonde supersoldier walks into the kitchen after a long late afternoon run (something you’ll never understand because he literally went on one this morning too), fresh out of the shower and starving when he sees nine abandoned brownies just laying there

so naturally, he eats them all - and quickly, too - because he’s like a human waste disposal sometimes and the brownies are really good

the only thing that’s been getting you through this sparring session with clint has been the thought of how much fun you’re going to have later

so imagine your disappointment when you come out of the shower in a pair of steve’s grey sweatpants and one of his hoodies, chatting to both clint and natasha animatedly only to find that all of your hard work has been... eaten?

“oh for fuck’s sake,” clint groans, throwing his hands up in the air exasperatedly

“y/n, i thought you said you were gonna save them for us-”

“i was! i literally left them right here!”

you spin around frantically, not wanting to believe that every single one of those huge brownies has just disappeared

“friday,” you call on the a.i to help you solve this mystery, “did you see who ate our food?”

“captain rogers is outside,” is all she replies and you want to scream because how does he still not know that those are for you?

“y/n, go get your man,” clint rolls his eyes and walks towards the elevator. “nat and i can go to the dispensary and we can do it tomorrow instead, hmm?”

“why not tonight?” you whine, pouting because you’re so upset with your boyfriend for ruining your plans

nat snorts and points out the window: “i feel like you might have your hands full tonight,” she walks over to give you a one-armed hug. “see you later, solnyshka.”

as she leaves, you turn around to look at what she’s gesturing to and your anger dissipates immediately at the sight of your boyfriend lying face up on the grass, arms spread out and eyes closed serenely

after you head downstairs and go outside, you’re literally standing in front of steve and he doesn’t even realize that you’re there, a stark contrast to how perceptive and alert he usually is

you clear your throat and school your face into a disapproving expression to hide how amused you are, placing your hands on your hips for the extra effect

gradually, his eyes peel open and you can’t stop yourself from laughing at the dopey grin that spreads on his face as he makes grabby hands for you

“baby,” he sings, clumsily pulling you down on top of his chest and booping your nose with his index finger before circling his arms around your body and holding you close to him. “i missed you.”

“baby,” you mock him, running a thumb along the curve of his bearded jaw, “you saw me this morning... and you ate all my brownies.”

“i did,” he drawls, still beaming at you. “they were so good and i was so hungry, babe. so hungry. but you made those brownies... and now i’m not hungry anymore.”

he attacks your face with a flurry of kisses that make you giggle and squirm on top of him

“they weren’t for you, stevie!” you still complain, narrowing your eyes at him. “and now you ruined my fun with nat and clint-”

“mmm,” he hums, leaning up to nip the skin of your neck, “you look so good in my clothes-”

“you’re not even listening to me,” your voice is breathy as he slides his hands underneath your shirt to play with your nipples and pushes your hips down into his so that you can feel how turned on he is already

“sorry, darlin’,” he doesn’t sound very sorry as he sucks and bites a trail of bruises up the column of your neck, his soft lips brushing against your jaw as he speaks. “we could still have some fun right here...”

“you’re high,” you deadpan, pulling away so that you can hold his furry face between your hands. you’re surprised that it’s gotten to him like this, especially since he can’t get drunk off of regular alcohol, but he did eat a lot of brownies

“it’s fun,” he murmurs, placing his hands over yours and pressing a kiss to your palms. “now take your clothes off, i wanna fuck.”

you choke out a laugh at how blunt he is but shake your head regardless, dodging his grip so that you can crawl to sit behind him instead

he leans his entire body weight on you as he rests between your legs, rubbing at his eyes

“maybe later, steve - you look tired.”

“i am,” he yawns as you rake your fingers through his long hair. “if i fall asleep, will you stay here?”

your heart melts because he’s so sweet 

“i’ll be here.”

“good,” his speech is slurred but you can still faintly make out what he’s saying. “when i wake up, we’re still fuckin’ though... right baby?”

“sure,” you snort, blinking at your hilarious half-asleep boyfriend because even in this state, he’s still as horny as ever

“okay,” he nods, obviously satisfied as he lays in your lap

it goes quiet for a while and you continue combing through his hair, thinking that he’s fallen asleep until he says:

“will you sit on my face too?”

“oh my god, steve.”

this is my new favorite thing thank you

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers headcanon #steve rogers blurbs #steve rogers headcanons #steve rogers blurb #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers imagines #requests

[mrsmaybankhere]

bury a love

i wanted this to be a very short one, but this is a serious topic and i really wanna get it down and be happy with it.

the idea of this fic it was that girls can also be the toxic ones in relationships. we are used to see fics with the man (JJ in this case) being the toxic one, but this has no gender at all. pleaseeee, understand that toxic doesn’t always mean getting beaten up!!!

and that friendships can also be veryy toxic!!!

anyway, hope you like it and lmk your true opinions on it!!

love youu the most xx

words: 2.3k

warnings: alcohol, drugs abuse, overdose, toxic behaviour, toxic relationship (if you are in one, please get out of it, you deserve better!!!)

***not my gif, credits to the owner of it!!!***

JJ knew that lately there was something wrong with you. Beside you dating Rafe's kook ass. You were still you, you were still his best friend [Y/N]. But in the same time you weren't.

You talked the same, you still made the same lame jokes. You still had a low tolerance to alcohol and you were still the cutest girl he ever met when you were drunk, making some adorable faces after throwing up for hours.

But JJ was the only one who noticed that you didn't smiled the same. You just did it with your mouth while your eyes remained empty and sad. He also noticed how you always wanted to get shitfaced. You wouldn't miss a opportunity to get wasted on alcohol. Always alcohol. Like you wanted to escape from something.

Or someone.

But he didn't do anything about it. He was still mad at you for dating Rafe and even if he knew that he acted childish and that he can't control you, he couldn't help himself. The girl of his dreams being in love with his enemy. Kissed and touched by him when JJ should be in his place.

He wanted to tell you about his feeling so many times before. He almost told you once.

And that one almost is tearing him apart now.

When Kie told them that you didn't answered her calls and texts all day, he cursed under his breath and said something like "she's probably too busy actin' like a kook" and he was sure that you will get at the Chateau later with that fake ass smile on your lips with a new gold bracelet. Or a new expensive custom surf board. But you didn't and you didn't answered to the phone. Until...

He was looking at your name again. He wated to see your name blowing up his phone all day long with texts and memes and funny photos of you.

He told myself that he will stop calling you. It's been hours so it was clearly that you didn't wanna talk to any of them.

But he pushed his luck.

And you picked up after just one second.

"[Y/N]?" He whispers and you finally answering left him a bit speechless. "Are you okay? Som-..."

He only heard a deep breath before you hang up the phone.

That's was when he decided to get over your ass and let you come around and now he realized how much he shouldn't.

They went fishing that day. They've been swimming, drinking beer and even catching some fish they will definitely have later for dinner. Kie and Pope got up from the boat, holding the empty bottles of beer while JJ and John B were right behind them, tying up the boat and getting the fish.

"Sarah? What happened? You told me you were busy, but-..." John B rushed to the backyard when he heard the name of his girlfriend. He was worried for her all afternoon.

"Are you okay, Sarah? Look at me. What's wrong?" John's hands are cupping her wet cheeks, but her crying is out of control and JJ's anxiety is getting at him in that moment. Right there he felt that something wasn't good and that it was about you. He felt a pain in his heart and the next few words proved him right.

"[Y/N] she is-...She's in the hospital. She had an overdose."

Overdose.

That night while holding your hand right next your hospital bed, he's still thinking about it. He...They didn't even know you've been doing cocaine. He never saw on you the same effects he saw on his father, but people are different towards it. He looked at the big bouquet of red roses placed on the nightstand next to your bed and he knew that Rafe was here.

And of course he was. You are his girlfriend after all. And you ending up almost dead is only his stupid fault. This is another almost that broke him into tears. Almost losing you before he even had you.

He kicked the flowers vase down with his fist, the glass cutting his knuckles, but it wasn't the first time anyway. But it was the first time when the pain in his heart is even bigger than usual, when he felt that he lost all the air from his lungs and that he can't bare looking at you anymore. He realized just now how much you hurt him over the past few months.

It was you who hurt him the most in the world.

Not his mother for leaving him.

Not his father for beating him for every shit.

No. It was you the one who really broke down his heart.

And later the next day when you finally woke up, they were there with you. Kie, Pope, John B, Sarah and of course JJ. Your parents were the firsts to hug you and you cried in their arms, looking more fragile than ever. You looked haggard and with very pale skin and big dark circles around you bloodshot eyes, JJ almost didn't recognized you. Drugs changed you. Rafe changed you.

Another almost that made him tear up right there in the same room with your friends and your parents.

After assuring them that you feeling alright and after drinking a lot of water, you finally actually looked at your friends. You still had tears in your beautiful, but empty eyes and when you locked yours with JJ's he couldn't bare it, so he quickly looked away. No one said anything, they all just sat there in front of your bed feeling awkwardly.

"I'm sorry...God I'm so sorry guys." You burst into tears again and Sarah and Kie are the first to come closer to you, grabbing your fragile body into a hug while the both of them are also crying.

"Why you didn't talked to us? Maybe we could have helped you."

"You didn't had to do through this alone." Sarah said while caressing your hair. She swore she will kill Rafe for doing this to you.

She wasn't alone, JJ thought but didn't said anything out loud.

"I tried to stop it. I tried to numb it with alcohol...To stop the cravings. But I guess-...I guess at some point I give up trying. I didn't wanted to stop anymore."

John B and Pope didn't know what to say, but they also had tears in their eyes while looking at you. It was a weird feeling to be happy that you come out of it alive.

"You still have us, okay? We will you get through this together."

"Yes. I did a lot of research and-..." Pope started talking a lot like he usually does and you smiled a bit. That smile warmed JJ up and he hated it. And then you looked at him while being hugged by the others, but not him.

"You hate me that much, JJ?" You ask with a lower raspy voice and you feel your whole head spinning around the room, but somehow you can see his disappointed face very easily. Your eyes are wet again, but you try your best to not let another tears out.

He didn't answered your question and he clearly avoided your glare. After another group hug without him the others let you two alone and he didn't said anything fro a while, so you were the one talking first.

"You can't even look at me?" You ask with a sad smile and you shift a little in the uncomfortable bed, a cannula in your right hand. JJ had a grin on his face, a mischievous one.

"I can't." He spat at you. "I can't because I don't even know you fucking are anymore. Because [Y/N] that I know...My [Y/N]...Would never do cocaine to please Rafe Cameron."

"What are you talking about?" You frown and you try your best to talk normal, but your bottom lip is shacking and you can feel tears in the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision of the angry blond in front of you. "It's not like that, J and-...And I'm still your [Y/N]. I realized too late that I need real help, but I'm still me."

"So you wanna tell me that Rafe didn't know about this shit? How fucking stupid do you think I am?" He's screaming in your face right now, not giving a fuck that you are in a hospital. He already fought the security once. "Don't lie to me. At least at the end of it, be fucking honest."

"The end of what?" You try to get up from the bed and you eventually do it after clenching your teeth to ignore the pain you feel in your whole body at every move. JJ felt the need to help you out when he saw you struggling, but he had enough control in himself to not touch you. You don't deserve him helping you after doing him so dirty, after breaking his heart. "I don't wanna lose you, J. I am in love with you. Not with Rafe. Not anyone else, ple-...Please."

He froze for a few seconds. You said these words like you really meant them. That was everything he wanted to hear in the past few months.

"It's too late, [Y/N]. You don't fucking get it?"

Your whole heart shattered into tiny pieces and you face fell at his words. What did you do?

"JJ, you can't do that. We are best friends, we've always been...Since third grade we've been always together. Me, you and John B. We were...We were always like this." You gulp down on your words, barely able to speak anymore with salty tears all over your face and falling on your lips too. "I didn't tell you...Because I didn't wanna ruined it."

"And that's exactly what you did." He whispered with a sad smile and tears in his beautiful icy blue eyes. When you looked into his eyes, you felt safe and loved and appreciated. But now they are your own hell, bringing back memories of you two being happy together everyday from dusk untill dawn. How can you live without him in your life? Him mad at you was better than not having him at all. "Tell me..." He looked down a bit and then back in your eyes. "Why were you with him if you-...If you were in love with me?" He never stutter while talking, but now he just did because of you and the huge power you have over him.

You didn't know how to answer to it. You just bit on your tongue until you felt blood all over your mouth and said the truth. The awful ugly truth.

"It was easier because he was in love with me...And I wasn't. So this way-...This way I won't get hurt."

JJ ran his hands over his blond messed hair and chuckled a little. Years of friendship were wasted because she was scared of love. Because she only wanted to be loved and not give anything back. He can't even look at her anymore. She just became pure evil in his eyes.

"JJ, please. Give me a change to make it up to you...To all of you. I'm so sorry. What do you want me to do now? I'll do anything for you to-...To forgive me." You started speaking a lot, feeling agitated at the thought of losing your best friend for good. You always loved JJ and there was always something more between the two of you, but you were smart enough to realize that JJ felt it too and you were dumb enough to take him from granted all this time while you played with him and Rafe. All your life no one really showed you any kind of affection, so you became desparte for it and you didn't mind being loved. But now it was about JJ...He was there every damn time and now when you realize that he's not gonna be anymore, you are on the edge of losing your mind.

He bit on his lips, a way of showing of stressed he felt in that moment and when you tried to grab his hands, he pushed yours away and take a step towards the door but your eyes are still locked.

"They already did forgive you. Maybe some day I will too, but-..."

"No, please. Don't do this." You shook your head, wanting to believe that none of this is actually real and you were desparte to keep him there a little more, to talk it out, but he gently pushed you away. He wouldn't hurt you.

"But I don't want you in my life anymore. You hurt me enough." Another round of tears traveled his cheeks down to his chin. "We are done, [Y/N]. I hate myself because I know I will always love you and-..." JJ broke is own heart a little more by saying this to you when everything he wanted to do was kissing you and holding you at his chest. It was hard, probably the hardest thing he ever did. "And if you-...If you ever cared about me, if you really love me...You will let me go."

You closed your eyes, wanting to end everything right in that moment. "Say it." You heard him say, but you shook your head. "Promise me you will let me go. For good. Do it." He kept pushing you and when you opened your eyes, you saw him crying just as hard as you.

You raise your hand and he does the same and you catch your pinkies together.

"Pinky promise?" He said and you know that this is gonna be the last time you would do something you did since you were just children. Nothing ever felt as hard as this is.

"Pinky promise."

And for the first time ever he saw pure love in your eyes; you were looking at him in the same way he used to look at you when you turned around.

But now he's the one turning around with you deep buried inside his chest.

#jj #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank smut #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank #jj x reader #jj x oc #The Pogues #pogues x reader #kooks vs pogues #outer banks pogues #pogues #obx #obx imagine #jj obx #obx fic #rudy x reader #rudy pankow #Rudy #rudy pankow imagines #jj maybank angst

[nostalgic-pancakes]

Watching the starlings as autumn draws in

Summary: Tommy and his friends try on some skirts, and he reflects a bit on how they all got here. (It's a happy story) Title from September by Sparky Deathcap

Pairings: None! Platonic everyone (esp in irl fics_)

Read on AO3 (preferred place to read)

Word count: 2570

Warnings: None, except for surface-level references to the exile/prison arcs, but not much.

Other notes: I wrote this in a fit of madness last night in like three hours at 2 am, so i’ll probably edit it honestly but for now, enjoy! (If the CC’s ever display discomfort with this type of fic I will take it down)

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"WELCOME BACK TO THE STREAM, BOYS!" Tommy exclaims, rubbing his hands together as he starts rapid-fire answering questions about the stream, and the stream title from chat. It's funny, how over time, Tommy's come to see Chat as this one entity- an old friend. The nervousness of answering questions as a fifteen year old with nothing but a big personality, a twitch account and a copy of Minecraft is all but gone now, nineteen years old and happier than he's ever been.

Dreadfulzombie19: what are u doin this stream

"THANK YOU FOR ASKING, Dreadfulzombie19, today is gonna be a bit different, innit Tubbo?" Tommy raises his voice a bit at the end of his sentence, just loud enough for one of his flatmates to hear him. When Tubbo yells back an affirmative, Tommy turns back to his setup. Chat's gone a bit wild again, even though he, Tubbo and Ranboo have been living together for over a year now.

"Okay, okay, calm down chat- so recently I was at university, as usual right? And I had an eight AM class again, and… yeah I can see you all can relate."

"BUT! BUT! On my way back to the flat, I saw something really cool." Tommy hesitates in his speech to take a sip of coke again- his blood pressure's been acting up lately and watches Chat to wild again, asking him what he saw.

"Okay, so there was a shop- new place, which doesn't happen often this is fucking Brighton- and they sold skirts and dresses and stuff with adjustments for AMAB sizes!" Chat goes a bit bonkers, but Tommy's mod team- a little smaller than it used to be, now that he isn't the centre of YouTube or Twitch attention anymore, none of them are- are handling it, and pretty well.

"So I had to go, right? As many of you probably know, last year, I made the astounding discovery that gender-based stereotypes and expectations are, in fact, fake and I should not give a SHIT. And so I go in and look through the stuff- it's a really poggers shop by the way, and I find the perfect thing- it was the most poggers skirts and shit, okay? So, today's stream is going to have me wearing this pogchamp shit and wearing it right, with the help of…" Tommy ends his monologue by picking up the joke shaker-things that Phil had gotten him as a housewarming gift last year and indicates for his first two helpers to enter the office.

In walks his mother, face obscured from view as always, waving to the camera, and Wilbur, also wearing one of his only skirts for this occasion. Eret had taught him, on a phonecall in the skirt shop that week about the different types of skirts with a handy diagram. Wilbur's was a pleated circle skirt, brown to offset the bright yellow of his sweater and beanie, the same colour as his hair. It's very swoosh-y, so he's wearing black leggings with his regular shoes too. Motherinnit's also wearing her favourite skirt, a baby blue prairie skirt, Tommy thinks, and it's one he's seen fairly often.

Wilbur ducks down in order to show his face to Chat, and ruffles Tommy's hair while he's at it. Tommy's taller, but not by much, so Wilbur still fucking makes short jokes, That fucker.

Chat is now going so fast that he simply cannot read anything but some of the all caps messages and can barely make out some of the emotes.

"Okay, OKAY, CALM DOWN CHAT! WE HAVE TO GET TO FUCKING BUSINESS!" Tommy yells into the mix, like he did when he was sixteen and used the 'many people find me annoying at first' intro. Nowadays he just lets the content speak for itself. Anyone who wants to be here already is, by now.

Wilbur laughs a bit, and that hasn't changed at all. "Tommy, how is chat supposed to calm down if you're not calm?"

"I am their god!! They will obey via sheer digital willpower!" Tommy replies back, pretty zealously (What? An English Literature class is mandatory for his film degree, and The Great Gatsby by Zelda Fitzgerald is a good book, as are most of the other assigned ones. He's had entire conversations with Techno with just lit quotes and it drives everyone insane. Tommy loves it.) Chat seemingly has listened to his godlike abilities, with a few OG's spotting his half-quotation of one of Dream's last lines in the Dream SMP. The rest are spamming 'MOTHERINNIT'.

"If having a shitty magic trick book from a washed-up politician makes you a god, then what does that make me?" Wilbur replies, with one of Foolish's lines and swatting his hand at Tommy. Tommy swats back.

"Bitch" "Arsehole" "Shithead" "Fuckface" Wilbur finishes cheerily, as if this happens all the time. It does. Chat's used their antics now, four years of consistently making content together will do that for you.

Eventually Motherinnit reminds them both to get back on Topic, and Tommy goes back to facing the camera, addressing Chat directly.

"Today, my beloved mother, and my idiot brother-" "hey!" "And maybe my flatmates will be joining me to show off some cool as SHIT skirts! And a dress or two. We all have our selections, right?" Everyone nods in affirmative, even Tubbo and Ranboo. Though the camera can't see them. Ranboo's just come home from his final class, then. He should probably take the first hour back off, and judging by how Tubbo is forcefully judging Ranboo to the shower, he probably gets it. Tommy signs an affirmative to both of them, and gets back to the camera, where Wilbur's showing off all of his (very poggers) very stupid brown or yellow skirts. Tommy's are in cool colours, for fuck's sake.

"Oh yeah, Puffy just confirmed she'll be on stream! She'll be here in about twenty minutes, accounting for fucking traffic, and Niki' going to get onto VC after her own stream, what game is it this time?"

"GRIS." Wilbur answers.

"Poggers- she is the SHIT and will join us soon! So expect some QUALITY QUALITY content this stream!! Remember to not spam her chat to finish faster." Exclaims Tommy, even if it ends up as a light warning, as he picks up his own very poggers skirts from the extra armchair in his office to show the camera.

One is the classic red and white, mostly white but with bright red on the waist (elastic) and the bottom, and it reached to about Tommy's knee, if worn at the hip. It had no pleats, but the red bits were a very nice velvet texture, and while the skirt was heavy, it still had very much swoosh value, and pockets!! Big ones!! He slips the skirt on top of his jeans before entering camera view, the skirt visible in all its classic Tommyinnit glory, as he takes his place right next to Wilbur, who just took. a quick spin at the behest of several dono's., Skirt spying out from his lower shins all the way to his knee, making visible one of his (many) petticoats. ("What? It's cold all the fucking time here, Toms.") Tommy also makes a quick little spin, skirt flying outward, not upward, so it looks like he's hula hooping for a moment there. Lastly, Motherinnit spins around too, and while her skirts do not swoosh, she looks opulent, like she was about to go to waltz with the enemy, for whom she has a dagger in the back of her dress for. (He finished Anna Karenina and the Six of Crows duology within the same week and has not yet recovered. Jack Edwards is laughing at him as he thinks in his English Lit Graduate glory.)

It's fun, trying on different skirts- he and Wilbur accidentally bought the same dress at one point, which they paired up to wear, darting off into their respective changing rooms while giggling like idiots with their checkered blouses and the grindl skirts that Niki had sent over when she heard of this stream idea, laughing the whole time. Tubbo enters as dramatically as possible with Puffy, and while Tubbo looks really fucking good in his handkerchief skirt with embroidered bees and plain white shirt, it's Puffy who steals the show with an exact, real life version of her red banquet dress.

Fans from way back in the SMP, before Tommy had started branching out start going insane and are bringing back emotes Tommy wasn't sure were still available, but she is fucking stunning- deep shades of red and crimson, with slits on either side of her waist and all the detailing. She'd gotten the contact for her dressmaker through Bernadette Banner, Tommy recalls- she was so fucking cool when she streamed with him once, and gotten him to swear less and supplant those world's with bigger ones to intimidate instead. While he still curses like a sailor as part of his persona, it's less so and he does way less in real life these days, unless the situation calls for it. It's also just rude, especially in uni libraries, where he spends too much time these days wondering why he didn't read more as a kid.

Puffy's stolen his audience for a WHILE, and Niki coming on hasn't helped any, so Tommy exits camera view for a while to hug Ranboo really quickly- he's had midterms and has basically been dying all month.

Everyone on this stream- Tommy, Wilbur, Motherinnit, Tubbo, Puffy, Niki and Ranboo enter the camera frame after entering their dressing rooms for the last time on this particular stream, Puffy with full in-character wigs and makeup, Tommy in an Edwardian-Gothic reminiscent black and red dress, Ranboo in something he bought when he gap-yeared in Japan, punk lolita or something, Niki flaunting her pink in a Marie Antoinette style show of finery, Tubbo dressing in all green this time, something like a very deranged biology teacher who hasn't slept in days (Tubbo hasn't-Tommy has to get into that), Wilbur like a forest-nymph, all earthy tones and swishy fabrics and nature highlights, and finally Motherinnit, who hasn't changed but is here to take pictures as they all lean in together to fit into frame, as drastic as their height difference is. Niki is going to be edited in later, and everyone on the 'Dream SMP but nobody does Dream SMP and we're all fucking nerds' discord server is going to get a copy.

The stream wraps up there, after about two hours, and it's only about six in the evening- a far cry from the late nights and long hours from the beginning of Tommy's career, so everyone runs to their changing areas for the last time, into pajamas now, and packs away all of the clothes they wore, properly, as to not incense Karolina Zebrowska, and Jemma, Dan's wife, who would look at them disappointedly and nobody wants a sad Jemma because that means no cooing at their son. Also it just feels shitty.

Everyone huddles in Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo's living room, and they out on UP for like, the millionth fucking time (they still cry when Ellie dies), and Tommy is leaning into Wilbur's side and feeling his mum play with the hair in his very small, stubby ponytail he's developed by being in Uni as he and Tubbo intertwine their legs together and Ranboo rests his head in the tangle of limbs, playing with his fidget cube. Puffy stays on Wilbur's side, intently texting someone and smiling the whole while, and Tommy takes a moment to reflect (something he's been getting better at doing) on how the actual hell they all got here.

The Dream SMP was always going to end- everyone knew it, if course, they were the fucking writers. But by the time they did, not only were their respective brands too closely intertwined to just… sever that quickly, but they'd become too close to even want to. So the SMP discord never shut, even though Dream and George had planned it months ago, and they continued supporting each other with their interests. Wilbur made a lot more music solo, with his band and even just random ass streams where he practiced guitar for an hour. He kept playing Minecraft, but it wasn't his main focus. A bunch of people left. More stayed. YouTube left him alone.

Dream, George and Sapnap are still Minecraft streamers, but their YouTube channels are mostly blogs of them being poor excuses of adults with other former SMP members joining in sometimes. Tommy and the Dream Team were closer than ever, even though the seeds of their friendship had been sowed when they used to linger after heavy streams together, reassuring each other that none of that was true and that nothing like… that would happen in real life, because Dream had used real abuse tactics, and those still hurt unless immediately taken care of. So they were. It was a running joke that Dream was stuck at 99 million subscribers since nobody really wanted the face reveal anymore. The other Dream team members were doing peachy.

Phil and Techno were also still primarily Minecraft streamers, but they also released things like advice videos and mental health stuff, especially for relationships. They had a new scripted series where Tommy was a minor character. The dadza jokes were still as real, and yes, outside of streaming, both of them were lovely people and responsible adults (mostly). They collaborated with DanTDM and co a lot more now.

Puffy and Niki kept doing games, but did lots of different ones, testing point and clickers to triple A titles, and making it all fucking hilarious while they were at it.

So where had that left Tommy?

After the Dream SMP, he'd kind of had no idea what to do, and he was going to University for the first time, so he just… did whatever he thought would be fun. He learned about vintage fashion from the queens themselves- Mina Le, Bernadette Banner and Karolina Zebrowska and had fun learning how to sew for the first time, fixing and making his own clothes for the first time, clunky as they were, Wilbur had cried, genuinely, when he saw the Lovejoy shirts that Tommy had made for the band. He'd found a genuine love for literature in university, so Tommy started talking to booktubers and studytubers like Jack Edwards and Noelle Stevenson. Tubbo and Ranboo had joined him, fucking around in any YouTube niche they found even remotely interesting. Eventually, they all found a happy medium- a bit of everything.

Some people obviously weren't happy with that but Tommy was happy as he was, making what he liked with his best friend's, living together close enough to most of their friends (family) to have fun and drop in on one another at ass-o-clock in the morning to comfort, to laugh. His sub count hasn't gone up in a while- most of his audience is static, with about 80-90k online on a stream at any time.p

It was a nice feeling, to have carved out a space for himself and the people he loves, and be is so, so glad that he got this chance.

Looking at his mostly asleep family, Tommy thinks 'yeah. Life is good.' as the last thought before he sleeps.

#dream smp #mcyt #irl fic #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #tubbo #nihachu #ranboo #vee's writing #2021

[mieohmy]

drafts... // yjh

to start with: hi everyone again 💕 you can probably tell by the title but sometimes I can’t write shit so I have a bunch of wips/horrible writings that I’ll never finish or just straight up hate -which means I’ll just post them so they can rot away and I never have to look at them again(and no they are not proofread) 🙂

D I S C O N T I N U E D

yoon jeonghan x matchmaker!reader

genre: fluff, humor, angst, strangers-to-lovers?

warnings: cursing

wc: 1.9k

summary: yoon jeonghan- your toughest matchmaking customer yet. flash forward thirteen dates and still insatiable. your only choice is to further investigate the reason behind all his failed attempts....but maybe it’s because he only wants you?

“How was your last date?”

He leans back with a bored sigh. “Uninteresting. She looked like her face was gonna melt with all that makeup on.”

And as much as you were starting to ‘dislike’ his presence here, yoon jeonghan was still your client and a fucking funny one at that.

You press your lips to prevent the laughter and it doesn’t go unnoticed. Neither does the shake of your head to collect your thoughts.

If there was anyone else in the room, literally anyone, they would’ve known exactly who jeonghan wanted really to go on a date with. (Hint hint: actually- no. you don’t even need one.)

“Well, i know she wasn’t the best choice, but we’re running out of options.” You hated forfeiting, but this guy was truly giving a run for your money.

“Are there other choices? Anyone?”

You rub your temple in frustration, scrolling through the options of contenders.

Honestly, you had no clue why he was constantly coming back to your office.

If you’re just gonna reject and complain about every girl, then why are you still here?

But you are indeed a professional- so the only thing you do is smile that polite worker smile and say, “Okay then. There’s another available person that’s willing to go out. Should we try one more time?”

The look on jeonghan’s face is unreadable. It almost makes you nervous. Does he.... does he not want to-?

“Okay,” he simply states.

When he gets up to leave, your eyebrows furrow. But you didn’t have the time to dwell on his strange action when his voice interrupts your further thoughts.

“Just text me the details. I’ll see you soon.”

“Wait-! You don’t even know anything about them....” your voice falters.

After a solid five minutes of making sure he was truly gone, you whip out your phone, furiously typing for the familiar contact on the screen.

“...yes?”

“Josh, I’m fucking quitting my job and moving to Alaska.”

There’s a pause.

“Is it that one guy again?? Jungle juice or whatever?”

“..... his name isn’t even hard to pronounce, and yes. More than 13 dates and jeonghan hasn’t found a single match. You know how stubborn I am but maybe it’s time to give up. I mean, is he just extremely picky or what?? I don’t get it.”

You spin circles in your chair, a perfect representation of how your mind felt.

“I don’t know y/n... could the problem might not be his dates but more him instead?”

The chair stops. “Him? What do you mean?”

The voice on the other line suddenly gets quieter. “I dunno, maybe there’s something wrong with junkyard and that’s why no one wants to date him?

The urge to correct him again is strong but the newfound thought distracts you.

“Huh.... Joshua, you might be onto something. I’ve never had problems with my clients being straight up horrible at dating though. But then again, thirteen failed dates and not a single success?”

You stare at the twirling ceiling. “But he must really want to find love, why else would he keep asking for my services?”  

Joshua’s voice turns suspicious. “You’re right... why else would he keep coming back to you?”

You snap your fingers, the perfect plan in mind. “I’m a genius, josh. I’ll take him out to really see what’s been happening on all the dates. Then we can figure out the problem.”

“So... you’re saying you’re gonna ask him out on a date to see what he’s been doing wrong on his other dates?”

The chair squeaks. “Oh. Uh. I guess so?”

“Okay.... just be careful. See you later.” There’s a certain edge to his voice that you notice.

After the call ends with a beep, you stare at the black phone screen.

Did josh mean something when he said that?

Shrugging it off,  you text jeonghan a few minutes later, surprised when he responds almost immediately.

You hesitantly tell him the reason for the so-called “date”, not expecting him to agree so quickly.

“Jeonghan, I-“ you stop and instead pass him as many tissues as you can, purposely avoiding looking at him and his very much see through shirt.

After a tense silence of just cleaning up, you mutter, “Did you really not wear anything underneath?”

He laughs. “So you were looking?”

“Haha, funny. And no. But when a mad person throws a drink at your white shirt, what do you expect?”

You soften, helping him with all the used wet napkins. You admire his strength to stay calm and not get angry in a situation like this.

“Are you really okay though? Do you have a jacket or anything to cover up with?”

He shakes his head.  

Coughing, you reach behind you, giving jeonghan a sheepish look.

“Well, I brought mine?”

Once you reach your car, you finally bring up what’s been buried in the back of your brain for quite a while, actually.

“Jeonghan.”

He looks at you curiously, your jacket still draped around him.

“Yeah? What’s up?”

You exhale, trying your best to seem unaffected and upbeat.

“I’m sorry. I just don’t think I can help you anymore.”

His heart stops. 

“...what did you say?”

“I think we should stop the whole matchmaking stuff, whatever this is. It’s not working out, which was obviously proven today. How many dates has it been? Why waste your time when we both know that it’s most likely not going to lead to anything?”

You smile, but it looks more like a grimace. “I suggest you find someone else to assist you if you’re that desperate for love. Once again, I’m sorry.”

Even with the feeling of defeat making you sink inside lower and lower, there was just simply nothing else you could do.

And jeonghan watches as you drive off, leaving him alone in the parking lot. The jacket -no, your jacket still wrapped around him, but suddenly it feels a lot colder than before.

But when you thought jeonghan finally left your life for good, he shows up once again, this time at your house.

What’s even worse is that it’s late at night and pouring outside. And you were stuck at home in possible the most embarrassing and ratty clothes to be caught wearing.

“What the hell jeonghan? What are you doing here?”

You examine his soaked body, aghast.

“I came to see you. And return your jacket, but mostly to see you.”

“Did you walk in the rain or something? Go back home. It’s so late -you must be crazy.

“No.”

His hard-set expression only makes you more frustrated.

“Listen. If you’re looking for more help, I can’t do anything. You- yoon jeonghan- are my hardest customer. I really don’t know what you want from me. I’ve tried everything and nothing’s worked.”

You can tell he’s getting increasingly annoyed, eyebrows furrowing and teeth gritting.

That causes you to sigh, arms crossing and uncrossing.

“I’m sorry. You’re just a case I can’t help. It-”

“The case isn’t about me. The case is that I’m in love with you.”

His voice is strained and controlled, like he’s barely able to hold it back.

.....huh?

You stare at each other for a solid minute.

Then comes the uncomfortable feeling of his eyes boring into yours and you feel the urge to close the door.

Unfortunately, that’s the one time your body actually listens to your brain and you swing the door shut in his face.

Even more unfortunately, it takes a minute for you to come back to your senses and let out a horrified, muffled scream.

Your hands scramble to reopen the door again.

There’s no one in sight, only the rain still coming down strong.

“Jeonghan?” you call out tentatively.

You walk out under the safety of your front porch, glancing for any sign of him.

After a couple more seconds of no results, you sigh and turn around to go back inside-

“Oh my god jeonghan.” He was to the side of your door, barely out of your peripheral view.

Jeonghan looks up from his small huddled position on the ground.

The sight of him looking like an abandoned puppy makes your heart squeeze.

Coughing, you attempt to smile feebly.

“I’m so sorry. Please come inside? It’s raining hard and you’re very much wet.”

Luckily he doesn’t protest much and follows you in. You force him to take a shower while you dry his clothes. There was some spare clothes found that might possibly fit him? It was better than nothing. You really did not want to see nothing. you don’t think you could handle that.

It all makes sense. Why he kept coming back to you. Why he was so eager to go out on that fake date with you, even if it was only an experiment.

But that’s not the real question. The real question is, how did you feel?

When the bathroom door finally opens, you start from your anxious seat on the couch.

But when he sits next to you, you slowly feel a wave of anger course through your body-no matter how good he looked.

“Are you stupid?”

His effort to dry his hair with the towel stops with your words.

He only stares at you.

You stand up, snatching the towel from jeonghan and beginning to dry his hair for him.

Quite forcefully, he notes.

Jeonghan heats up from your touch, noticeably getting softer and gentler. On the other hand, you were very much annoyed while also focusing on drying his hair to your best ability.

“Who the hell just goes in the rain like that? And shows up at someone else’s house without notice? And then proceeds to confess their love for them?”

Jeonghan says nothing. Eventually, you finish drying his hair and throw the towel to the side.

“How long?” Your voice is tight, attempting to hold back the emotions. But the look in your eyes is different-desperate, curious. You really just want to know.

This. This isnt what you expected. Your job is to find someone perfect for him, and that someone couldn’t possibly be you yourself, right?

Out of all the people in the world, jeonghan only wants you. That one thought is enough to make you shiver.

For the first in a while, jeonghan speaks up. “Since the first time we met.”

“Stop lying. I know for a fact you don’t give a shit about love at first sight.”

He laughs. “That’s why I like you. You get me, my jokes, and pranks. Basically everything I say and do. Ah, and it was like after three failed dates or whatever. What can I say, I really liked seeing your face after all those boring dates.”

It’s hard for you to hold back a smile.

“Alright, since I believe you this time, I guess I’ll  accept your confession.”

“Wait, what? You like me back?”

“Well,” your voice cracks and you shoot him a crooked grin. “I don’t know, but we can always try?”

He stifles a laugh at your obvious attempt to hide your shyness, looking back at you with a glint in his eyes.

“Okay. Bet.”

Your head tilts in confusion.

“I bet I can get you to fall in love with me in one week,” he says, trademark smirk pasted on his face.

And jeonghan already knows -you’re not one to back down to challenges.

“Oh, it’s on, lover boy.”

a/n: EWWW ALSKJFASL anyways- sorry for typos and yes there are so many random cuts and scenes (ones i liked and didnt want to delete) that probably make no sense since my unproductive ass doesn’t want to rewrite the whole story-like there is nothing going on with this aHA that’s all :) 

#jae.docx #wipsohmy #wips #seventeen #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan