#if this is rly just cold feet or what bc it seems a little fucking extreme like is this what ppl talk about

[volleychumps]

« Progressive Rivalry

Omg I love your blog 🥺 could I get a scenario or one shot with iwaizumi or Sakusa (or honestly any character you’d like!) where u run into each other at every tournament and it started out as a bitter rivalry but then they got rly worried bc u got hurt and they’re like “why do I care!?” Does that make sense? Ahaha 😅

~ just why do you keep running into the guy you hate most, especially when he equally hates your guts as well?

format: One-Shot 

genre: fluff

- includes: Iwaizumi Hajime

Warning(s): swearing, slight mention of blood, enemies to lovers trope 

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

“Oh look, my best friend’s here.” 

“Fuck off.” 

A sarcastic grin tickles your lips as you place a hand over your chest, pouting mock-affectionately as the dark haired spiker wipes at his sweaty neck with a damp towel. You adjust the gym bag on your arm as the rest of your team begins to warm up, already used to this turn of events. 

“Aw, Iwa! You always manage to warm my cold, dead heart. If you have a crush on me, just say so. Are you some kind of stalker?” 

“Hah? A stalker? You wish.”  Iwaizumi stands as the red-headed one and popular brunette behind him stifle their amused laughter into their fists. “Who would like looking at your ugly mug all day?” 

The spiker’s failed attempt to intimidate you with his height had your smile widening in challenge, the insult not hurting a bit.  In fact, you lean a little closer, fake sniffing as if he had genuinely hurt your feelings. 

“Yep. I definitely want this temperamental six year old in the body of a seventeen year old to show an ounce of interest in me. How’d you know?” 

“How can I not show interest in things that perturb me?” 

“So you are interested.” You wink. “Don’t hurt your pretty little head over using words that are too complicated for your brain.” You lean around him to shoot a sweet smile to his teammates, ignoring the flash of irritation across Iwa’s face. 

“Issei, Oikawa, Hiro!” You flash a thumbs up, your pretty smile almost blinding. “You guys were cool.” 

“Y/N-chan~ you’re such an angel!” 

“Angel my ass.” 

“Oh. You’re still here.” Your voice falls dejected as Iwaizumi gains an irk mark on his forehead. Glancing back at your team, you smile and wave at the other three. “Gotta go warm up, cheer for me!” 

“Good luck!” Matsukawa calls after you, merely grinning when Iwaizumi shoots him an irritated stare. 

“Not gonna wish the love of your life a good game?” Hanamaki questions, already beginning to walk off while smirking into his water bottle as his dark-haired friend merely scoffs. The teasing from his trio of “friends”  wasn’t anything new. 

“I don’t think that thing is capable of loving.”

“Yeah yeah, you love her, we get it.” 

Iwaizumi groaned inwardly, sitting down tiredly on the bleachers to rest up as your team littered your side of the net. His jaw clenched when you offered him a lazy wave, kneeling slightly in your position as a libero. 

There were many things Iwaizumi had could say about your character or even the irritating smile on your lips at his blatant annoyance, but he couldn’t deny how well your team mixed. Oikawa whistled lowly as Hanamaki absently mentions to Matsukawa about how the other team hardly stood a chance. 

Iwaizumi blinks, feeling a pit of annoyance in his gut as the boys in the stands whistled at every save you made, the pit deepening even further at the smile you cast in their direction. 

“You’ll get frown marks Iwa-Chan!” 

“Shut the hell-” 

“Oh shit! Y/N!” 

Iwaizumi’s head whips back in the direction of your match at the sound of Hanamaki’s exclamation just in time for the collision. 

And then his breath caught in his breath so abruptly he almost choked. 

You clutched your ankle, teeth biting so deep into your lip so hard Iwa swore he could see a bead of blood as you withheld an obvious wail of pain. Your teammate knelt by your side with a hand clamped over her mouth in shock, Iwa being able to make out from your teammates’ panic that someone had accidentally shoved you so hard to the side you swore you heard your ankle snap in an attempt to stabilize yourself. 

“Y/N-chan!” 

“Is she okay?” 

But Iwa wasn’t listening, all distaste for you seeming to drown out of his system as he wondered, 

wondered why the hell he cared so much about the girl who tried her hardest to get under his skin. Your witty retorts, your wide grin, the softness of your irises, and the pang in his chest every time you jokingly bumped your shoulder against his in passing- 

that same girl who’s cheeks were now shining with spilled tears causing him to rise to his feet. 

“Oi Iwaizumi, where are you going?” 

He didn’t spare a glance to your teammates as they silently made way for the wide-shouldered spiker, dark eyes assessing the damage as he bent down, swooping you up into his arms as if you hadn’t weighed a thing. He ignored the stares and wolf whistles from his team as he hurried out of the gym and in the direction of the infirmary towards the specialists who were trained for these events, heart tugging at the sound of your whimpers. 

“I’ve had dreams about this.” You mumble, eyes clenched shut as tears built up on your closed eyelids, arms wrapping around his neck tighter as you buried your face in his neck. “Please be hot, that’s all I’m asking for.”

“You’re still joking at a time like this?” Iwa’s voice cracks at the proximity, wondering why on earth his chest was pounding in his ears as your eyes shot open. Immediately, you begin to squirm, your face heating up as Iwaizumi continues his hurried stride, barely sparing you a glance. 

“You’re taking me?” 

“No.”

“Don’t be sarcastic with me!” 

Iwaizumi leans his head in the opposite direction, away from the volume of your voice, but he couldn’t stop the slight tilt of amusement on the right side of his lips as you seemed distracted by the obvious pain in your ankle. Mission successful. 

He ignores your protests to set you down, frowning at your claims to wanting anyone else to have taken you. Even the brunette one.

“See, now that’s just plain insulting.” Iwa’s eyes narrow at you as he finally sets you down on one of the cots, about to walk off to find the doctor before a hand weakly tugs at the bottom of his jersey. 

“....I think they’ll come soon. Can you...just stay? Just until they come?” 

Iwaizumi blinked. Then blinked again. 

Iwaizumi clears his throat, recovering from his shock before pulling up a stool and grabbing a nearby first aid kit. He tilted your chin up with his fingers, his gentle touch causing your cheeks to flare up as your eyes took on a vulnerable edge. 

“Why do you hate me so much?” It was genuine curiosity, anything to alleviate the strange heaviness in his chest when he acknowledged that fact that you despised him so.

Your eyes widen at the sudden attack, wincing a little as the cotton pad dabs at your lips, soaked in alcohol. “Why do you?” 

“I don’t hate you.”

“Oh-” 

“I just think you’re annoying as hell.” 

“Well I think that not a single thought goes on behind those pretty eyes.” 

“So you think my eyes are pretty?” 

The silence is heavy as you shake your head no quickly, causing Iwa to click his tongue and scold you to stay still as he keeps his eyes trained on your-

oh god he’s looking at your lips. 

“Yes.” You’re almost whispering, shyly avoiding his widened gaze as you lean away from him.

He stumbles over his words at your direct response, unprepared for the way in which you lean a little further back, eyes nervous and not at all the sarcastic gleam he knows as he swallows back the lump in his throat. 

“Well,” and then his hand is cupping the side of your face as he tugs you closer, confusion swirling in his head as his heart surges him forward, practically mumbling against your lips in a daze before he could stop himself. 

“I think you’re prettier.” 

He wanted to smirk at how he could practically see smoke puff out of your head. 

“Even if you hate me?” 

“I’m honestly not sure I ever did.” 

The distance is closed by you, a hand coming up to run your fingers through his dark locks as his thumb strokes your cheek, lips moving feverishly together as you attempt to pull back-

If he let you go, would you go back to hating one another? 

only for him to kiss you back even harder as if he was satiating some sort of hunger, a smile growing on your lips before a shot of pain shoots through your leg, bringing you back to reality as you whine against his lips. Iwaizumi gasps, ignoring your giggles and assuring words that you’re fine, carefully laying you down on your back while elevating your ankle. 

“Y/N.” 

“First name basis? Look at us skipping all the necessary steps.” you tug your hair out of it’s knot, attempting to redo it with a hair tie between your lips as the pain in your ankle falls to a dull throb. 

“What did....are we...?”

“Does the Iwaizumi Hajime want to know if we’re a thing or not?” Your smile has his cheeks flushing, stare becoming irritated. 

“Oi. Nevermi-” 

“Yes, idiot. Now run along and fetch my things, will you?” 

He rolls his eyes at your playful wink, ensuring your injured ankle was positioned properly before beginning to exit the infirmary-

“And Iwa?”

“What is it, doll?” 

Your chest leaps at the nickname, Iwaizumi beginning to smirk at the change in expression on your face before you clear your throat. 

“Thank you.” 

It was one of the most sincere things you had ever said to him. 

Your unexpected boyfriend kissed you on the lips a second time after a few strides, any confusion within him seeming nonexistent as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. The way you gazed up at him had his chest doing somersaults, wondering if you were both just denying the attraction you felt towards one another before fate took its turn. 

“Nah, I should be thanking you.” 

“For what?” 

“Hurting your ankle-” 

“Get out.” 

Iwa’s feeling like an idiot with the lilt to his lips when the door slides shut and something hits the door where his head would have been, the slight smile fading back to his usual scowl at the sight before him. 

His three friends had identical grins on their faces, Matsukawa holding a #1 fan balloon and Hanamaki decked out in merch from your school. He narrows his eyes at the bouquet of flowers tucked behind Oikawa’s back. All obviously from the themed store of the tournament. 

Guess he didn’t need to worry about whether or not you would enjoy his idiotic friends’ company. 

“So you're whipped. Didn’t see that one coming.” 

“Whatever.”

“Iwa, where are you going?” 

“...to go get her things.” 

“You so love her.” 

“Shut the hell up and don’t enter her room until I get back.”

It was only when the dark-haired spiker turned the corner, looking behind and in front of him before his back hits a nearby wall as he attempts to calm his heartbeat, swearing he had never felt such a wild surge of energy through his veins as his lips tingled with the taste of you. He sighs, touching the hair tie that he stole from you when he kissed you a second time from within his pocket, wondering just when his hatred melted into the exact opposite. 

He was so whipped.

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Hi all! How are you lovelies doing? I’m going to be on here more often, thank you for 9k and your patience with me has helped me so much! This was one of my requests that I wanted to use to slide back into the swing of things, so I hope you enjoyed! <3

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu iwaizumi #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu one shot #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu iwa #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #hq iwaizumi #haikyuu seijoh #seijoh #Aoba Johsai #haikyuu aoba johsai #haikyuu requests #hq fanfic #hq headcannons #hq scenarios #hq x reader

[kissingnamjoon]

Forgotten | Min Yoongi x Reader (Part 1)

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader 

Genre: Its angst. did u rly expect anything else from me?

Summary:  “I don’t care about the clothes, Yoongi! I just wanted to see you! We did not have to set up these reservations for a fancy restaurant, I told you that! This was your idea! Why aren’t you listening to what I’m saying?” You spoke boldly into the phone. You knew Yoongi was stubborn and not one to let up easily, so you anticipated his response. “Because you’re not fucking saying anything worth listening too.” And with that, the phone clicked, and he hung up.

A/N: Hi I’m back after what seems like forever. Did you guys miss me? kadljflsjflks. Also, I really tried focusing on the readers perspective in this part, the next part will focus more on Yoongi’s. I’m hoping you guys like this bc I havent written in a while and I might be a little rusty. Okay. THATS ALL. ENJOY. FEEDBACK PLS

Your back ached tremendously as you walked barefoot across the concrete. Expensive heels in your hand, that you bought specifically for tonight. Tear’s slowly flowing down your puffy cheeks, too wrapped up in your own thoughts to care what any by passers thought. You knew there was a cheapy motel down the street tonight, and that is where your feet started taking you. There was no way you were going home to Yoongi. Not after the way he spoke to you and made you feel. What were you ever suppose to say to him? You felt embarrassed that you were so excited for tonight, thinking about it all day and dolling yourself up, and he didn’t even give you the time of his day. Fuck, if he would even be home. He made it abundantly clear that he did not want to see you, or at least that is what he made you feel.

------

“Yoongi……where are you?” Your soft voice came through the phone. You were surprised he even picked up this time. It only took 4 text messages and 3 phone calls for him to answer. You normally would not call or text him so excessively, but tonight was supposed to be different. You thought, no, you KNEW he would make it to your date tonight. He promised you. Your guy’s relationship had been going through a rough patch, with Yoongi being consumed by work and BTS. You knew his job was demanding, but all you asked for was a little bit of his time. Hell, this date was not even your idea. It was HIS. He was determined to make up his recent neglect to you, and you were more than content to just settle on the couch for a movie night with him. But Yoongi thought you deserved more than that.

However, his actions did not match his thoughts. He did not make you feel like you deserved anything from him. As a matter of fact, right now, you felt the complete opposite.

You thought maybe he had just run into some traffic after it was 10 minutes past 8. You were very naïve and hopefully, and the thought of him standing you up or forgetting honestly did not cross your mind. Tonight, was going to be different. But then 10 minutes turned into 15 minutes. 25 minutes. 45 minutes. An hour. You started to feel nervous that tonight was going to be like the last several months. It would only be validation that whatever else was going on in Yoongi’s life, whether it be work or personal, was always going to take priority over you. When did your relationship become like this? When did Yoongi stop showing you he loved you? When did you stopped feeling loved? When did your relationship with Yoongi become so god damn ISOLATING and LONELY?

“What are you talking about? I’m at the studio.” Yoongi said. And with that, feelings of humiliation and sadness filled your veins as your heart pumped through your body. Of course, tonight was not going to be different. It had not been different for the last 2 months. But this time you had hope because Yoongi planned all this. Not you. Yoongi had always been a man of his word, especially when it came to you. Had your relationship come down to this? Did your relationship hold such unimportance that a simple promise really meant nothing to him anymore?

“What about….tonight? You know? The date you set up for us….” You do not know why you felt nervous responding back to him. Maybe it was because you knew he was at the studio, most likely working. But why should you feel bad? He was not supposed to be working. He was supposed to be with you. “Oh. That. Yah, we can just reschedule it.” Yoongi said calmy, with no concern or panic that he forgot, lacing his voice. Your heart just kept shattering, as you suddenly felt unimportant in Yoongi’s life. Something that he could just push to the back burner and forget about like it was nothing. Maybe you were nothing to him anymore. “B-but….Tonight was supposed to be different Yoongi. I was really looking forward to seeing you. I just want to see you.” Your lips started trembling, but you swore to yourself you would not let Yoongi know you were on the verge of tears. Besides, would he even care if he knew that he had caused the tears making their appearance in your eyes?

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you, Y/N. I got caught up in the studio. We can reschedule for the weekend.” Why was he being so cold towards you right now? This was not the Yoongi that you knew. The Yoongi that loved you. Sure, on the outside Yoongi seemed cold and distant, but with you, he was so much different. He was soft. He was deep. He was passionate and incredibly detailed orientated. He cared about you. Where was that Yoongi? “But Yoongi…. You planned this. I even bought a new outfit to wear for you and everything.”

Yoongi was getting annoyed. He already told you that you guys could go on the weekend. What weren’t you understanding? He snapped. “Well fuck, Y/N! I will repay you for the clothes and whatever the fuck else you bought for tonight. I told you we could reschedule for this weekend. Is it difficult for you to understand?!” He snapped through the phone. Why was he being so mean to you right now? All you wanted to do was see Yoongi? Were you such a selfish person for wanting to see your boyfriend, even if just for a few minutes? “I don’t care about the clothes, Yoongi! I just wanted to see you! We did not have to set up these reservations for a fancy restaurant, I told you that! This was your idea! Why aren’t you listening to what I’m saying?” You spoke boldly into the phone. You knew Yoongi was stubborn and not one to let up easily, so you anticipated his response. “Because you’re not fucking saying anything worth listening too.” And with that, the phone clicked, and he hung up.

-----

You were so confused. What had just happened? Did you do something to Yoongi you were not aware about, why was he so angry at you? The motel you were heading to was probably gross and dirty, but you did not even care. You had spent so much time getting ready for your date with Yoongi, and then the argument, if you could even call it that. You were exhausted and you just wanted to pass out and forget about what happened with Yoongi. You wanted to forget about Yoongi. Just like he had forgotten about you.

-----

If you liked this fic, please feel free to buy me a kofi! ❤

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[shoutogepi]

Catboy!Shouto

Todoroki Shouto

word count : ~2K (blurb!)

[ ☀︎ ]  fluff!! 

bio : general catboy!sho hc’s. initial meeting all the way to relationship.

author’s note : a midnight hc that got WAY out of hand. fair warning idk what the fUCK this is, whatever it is is all astrid’s fault. i decided to make this bc i suck at finding fics and i rly wanted to read something about a snuggly catboy!sho.

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

in my opinion, shouto is already very catlike in certain respects.

he’s aloof and likes to watch rather than engage. he’s very intelligent and he’s driven when he wants to be. and not to mention he’s very loyal to those few that have melted through his ice-protected heart. he’ll probably also only allow physical interaction if he’s the one initiating it... 

you didn’t adopt him in human form. at some point you got a cat and you thought that was it— that it was merely a cat. a cute one at that, split down the middle like a patched together hand-me-down. he reminded you of a ragdoll because of his peculiar colors, even though his coat was sleek and shiny. he also had a very prominent air of elegance... overall, a very pretty cat.

however, he wasn’t the nicest animal at first. he was skittish and guarded. he really only interacted with you in order to get food and water, and he didn’t allow you to touch him all too much. any time you had friends over there was no chance he’d be spotted, always hiding in the shadows of your closet or the safe space underneath your bed. when your company would leave, he would slowly crawl out, watching you from a respectable distance as you tidied up before heading to bed.

even though he was kind of a dick, you spoiled him silly. you bought him his own bed since he refused to even go near you. he had his own cat tree and everything, and ample toys too. that was how he first began warming up to you. 

you had managed to pique his interest by dragging a ribbon toy across the floor and disappearing around the doorframe. you had been over the moon when he had poked his little head into the room, pupils wide as he eyed the ribbon with intense curiosity.

the morning after that, you had awoken to find him sitting on the very far corner of your bed. it was as far as he could possibly be from you while staying on the mattress, but you were elated nonetheless.

— - —

from then on, your relationship was a little steadier with the feline. he would follow you around your place, always in the same room as you but forever out of reach. occasionally he would allow you to give him a little scratch behind the ear or under the chin, but he would get up and leave after a few seconds of affection.

it wasn’t until he came down with a minor kitty cold that your relationship changed. you took him to the vet. he hated it. he was such a misbehaved boy, but when you had nearly cried as you frantically apologized for his behavior, he strangely became limp, a disgruntled expression on his cute little face.

you took him home and attempted to administer the medicine, even if he hissed and growled at you when you approached him with the distinct vial. you tried to give it to him, and he lashed out and scratched you for the very first time.

it was just a little cut, but it was enough to draw blood. you left the medicine with him and closed yourself away in the bathroom as you tended to your wound, irritated that after all you’d done for him he still treated you like shit. but he was a cat, you reckoned, and so you instantly dropped any malice that had come forth in those few minutes. when you opened the door again, he was sitting at the doorway, ears flat to his head and head lowered, the medicine vial resting before his paws.

after that he allowed you to administer the medicine without complaint. he just layed there and would blink lazily at you while you moved him accordingly, never fussing at all. it was clear that he was sick initially, but each time you gave him that medicine he became more and more like himself. he looked strong and healthy once again. you were relieved.

your relationship kept improving. he would now let you pet him from time to time. sometimes he would even jump up and settle himself into a little loaf next to you as you watched TV or typed away at your laptop. he began sleeping closer to you, sometimes on your feet, sometimes on the vacant side of your bed. the sound of his low purrs lulled you to sleep.

things started getting strange when you started going out with someone you had met. you’d given your number to them when they’d asked for it out of the blue. it was all very innocent, nothing too crazy. just a coffee here and there, really.

that was when shouto started becoming more affectionate with you. he would let out a loud meow in greeting when you came home, running to the door to meet you and promptly sticking his head into the shoes you slipped off your feet. he would sit with you as you went through the work you brought home, even nuzzle your ankles while you made yourself dinner. he would start to sit on your lap when you were watching the television.

he would even let you kiss his head , and he’d slowly blink at you when you praised him for all his handsomeness, for how good of a boy he was. he even started slipping into the sheets with you, allowing you to hold him close as you drifted off into slumber, and kneading at your blankets as the two of you fell asleep together.

but coffees turned into lunches. and lunches to dinners. you started spending less and less time at your place, and he would find himself watching the clock on the wall as he waited for your return. though when you finally would, later and later with each passing date, he was not pleased to find your scent mixed with another’s.

he had stayed in cat form for a very long time. perhaps he shifted into human form when you weren’t home, you didn’t know. you thought he was your cat, and that was the end of it. all you knew was that one morning, you woke up, expecting to have your snuggly companion curled up into your side as usual.

instead, there’s a whole ass MAN tucked into the sheets beside you, long leg slung over yours and his arm wound round your waist. what’s even wilder is that two cat ears stick out of the silky hair on his head, colored the distinct red and white of the fur you have become so accustomed to. a long, furry tail also rests on your thigh, brushing against your skin.

he’s also butt ass naked.

to say you’re shook is an understatement. thankfully he’s laying on his stomach, so you don’t see anything indecent. you weigh your options here— this man is so obviously your cat, there’s no way he’s not. but you have a cat, and this is a man!! man-cat? you can’t care to know the correct terminology.

you decide not to scream, but you shuffle backwards. it’s enough to disturb the creature, and his heterochromatic eyes peel open slowly. he sees you looking at him, and still weighed down by sleep, a mild, content smile curls his lips and a loud purr rumbles out of him. then his eyes move down and he catches sight of his own arm around you, and he scrambles off the bed, ears tucked back and tail bristling as he trips over the sheets.

after you find some clothes for him to wear, you have a rather awkward conversation over breakfast. turns out that he’s been capable of turning into this human form the whole time, but he had become accustomed to life as a cat and preferred it to being a human, as he had a hard time fitting in with his big ears and long tail. you reckoned you, too, would live as a cat if you had the option... especially with such a doting and caring owner as yourself.

now though, you can’t really refer to yourself as his owner. he’s a person, just like you— he just harbors many of his cat-like qualities.

initially it’s hard to adjust, knowing he’s also a man (and a very handsome one, at that). you buy him some clothes and start to cook meals for the both of you. what else are you gonna do, throw him out onto the street?

your interactions become a little forced... you’re just really confused as to how you’re supposed to act around him. he seems to sense your unease, and he shifts back into a cat in order to comfort you. he walks right up to you and hops into your lap, standing up to put his front paws onto your chest, and leaning in to rub his cheek across yours, finishing off with a quick lick of affection.

apparently, he has missed the attention the both of you had become so accustomed to giving/receiving. so, the moment you hesitantly begin to rub his ears, he starts to purr loudly, settling on your lap/chest. he’s really warm and soft, so you end up wrapping your other arm around him and continuing to pet his head.

it becomes routine for you to have this nightly cuddle before bed, but after you’re finished with pretending to pay attention to the tv, you tell him goodnight and shut yourself into your bedroom for the night.

no longer does he receive your praise nor your kisses, and it’s taking a toll on him. he’s needy!! you’ve conditioned him to soak up all your love and now you just stop?

so eventually he’ll sack up and knock on your door, asking why you won’t let him sleep with you anymore. he knows you’re intimidated by his human form, but he thinks the reason is because you’re scared of him. you hesitantly let him know it’s really just because you’re attracted to him. and what do ya know, he feels the same.

another reason why you’d been avoiding him that you’d rather die than tell him is that you’re embarrassed that you just straight stared at him in shock when he used your toilet like a human. eye contact and everything. this was back when you’d first gotten him but now you’re just overwhelmed with residual embarrassment LOLLLLL anyways...

from there your love blossoms !! yay!

now he will walk around your place in his human form more often than cat form. though sometimes he does like to be in kitty form so he can sit on your lap while you’re working at your desk.

snuggles become a norm. he’s very affectionate. absolute cuddle bug. 

stressed? cuddles.

happy? cuddles.

bored? cuddles.

i cannot emphasize this enough!!! hold him!! he lives for it! he is baby.

he still loves playing with all the toys you buy him. and what’s hilarious is that he can’t seem to help himself from fixating on those little aluminum twist ties that you keep in the kitchen. he doesn’t know why, but when you toss them across the room he’ll just run for it. nyoom!!

makes sure to bring it back like a good boy every time.

a really good investment is a laser pointer. human or cat, once that little red dot is spotted, you can bet he’s chasing it. this has resulted in broken furniture more than once LOL. at the end of your little play session you guide the laser over to you and he’ll pounce on you!! cue more cuddles. 

as if all the snuggles he gives you through the day aren’t enough, falling asleep is complete bliss.

he’ll slip into your covers and wrap his long limbs around you. lithe fingers will caress your skin and your hair, and if you return the favor, he’ll start to purr softly for you. he’s totally into nuzzling you, too. he’ll just nestle his face right into your neck and breathe your scent in, completely at peace. and he can’t help it when his purrs grow louder, an indication of his complete content.

more rarely he’ll come out into public with you, provided he wear a beanie or something to cover those cute perky ears of his. the tail he can tuck into his pants just fine. when he’s out and about with you, he’ll likely stay right by your side, an arm over your shoulder, around your waist, or your hand held hostage by his.

when you’re out on these rare excursions, he will often ask for a boba or a latte—he loves to indulge in those sweet milky drinks every now and then. plus it makes him happy when you’re happy, and you always get excited when you get one for yourself too.

overall 10/10 would recommend adopting catboy!sho. he will give you all the love and snuggles necessary and he’ll be more than happy to accept your affections too. 

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

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so... can you guys tell i’m a cat person? 

(づ ｡◠ ‿ ◠｡ )づ <3 <3 <3

➥ masterlist  thanks for reading!! hope u enjoyed whatever... this was LOL 

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

#todoroki shouto fluff #todoroki shoto fluff #todoroki shouto fic #todoroki shoto fic #mha fluff #mha fic #bnha fluff #bnha fic #bnha hc #mha hc #todoroki shouto hc #todoroki shoto hc #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #cat boy todoroki #cat boy shouto #my fics

[i8jisoo]

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐒 ⇉ skz with pregnant!reader 

changbin x reader | part three of dad!skz

↬ genre; fluff & angst for a lil bit woo

↬ warnings; talk of perinatal depression, cursing, n labor 

↬ notes; changbin babi 🥺  ALSO ITS CHANGBIN DAY WOOO ITS MY BABYS BDAYYYYY SO I HAD TO POST THIS |

u two had just freshly started an official, public relationship

ofc changbin was freaking out while he was chilling in the bathtub behind the curtain so u could pee on the test already

u two were looking at the line coming in, praying that there would be only o n e 😳

slowly the other line comes in, dark blue n clear alongside the other one

“holy fuck—“

“what do we do?” you asked, your voice wavering while setting the test back down

his hands cupped your face, giving u a soft kiss n hugging you

“we got this, we’re having a baby, baby!” he started to joke and yall burst out laughing while crying in the bathroom

the first few months were amazing

ur lil bump sprouted out n u two were so happy about it

changbin is just so attentive and excited about this pregnancy and his first born

u really couldn’t have been better with ur lil family that was starting to become realer with each day

u two r such bullies yall r like

“what happened? ur a softie now binnie!!”

n he’d say shit like, “well at least i don’t pee every hour on the clock!!”

he makes u cry one time n u use that against him everytime u want something bc he feels guilty >:)

cute lil things like asking the baby what they want to eat or talking to it before the bed

(changbin reads the baby goodnight moon one time and ur just so in love like wow 🥺)

he secretly talks to the baby when you sleep every night because hes waiting for when ur little bean will reply back with a kick or a hand

he is W H I P P E D for u n ur baby bump

nursery is already done at five months

he needs all of the boys to come over though to help him figure out the instructions 😳 these are co nfusi ngg

they notice how smiley n giggly he is when he talks about u two and looking at the finished crib hes just so proud

yall r so happy and content with ur baby that was an accident, but u guys are so happy this happened

but something changes within u

changbin notices your lack of interest in the pregnancy during ur sixth month

ur sleeping pattern was off n u would sleep for hours during the day and night

u were very irritable, not wanting changbin to cuddle with u or kiss u like he did everytime he came back from practice :(

u were always unhappy and always so moody, he just wanted u to be happy 🥺

he is so confused and worried ab u, some days ur not eating or some days u don’t even wake up in the mornings like u used to

sometimes— just sometimes he’d come back home to find u in the same spot, asleep

he’s so fucking scared when ur around seven months that he can’t hold it in anymore

“are—are you okay?” he questions u from the doorway, making u stop to look at him in the mirror

ur eyes were cold, setting down the towel u were drying ur hair with and leaving him by himself while heading into ur bedroom

“don’t you dare fucking walk away from me.”

ur s h oo k

he was really nice during the pregnancy everyday, super bubbly and kind so u were shocked to hear his upset tone

“i can and i will, i’ll just go sleep in another fuckin room.” u mumbled, changbin grabbing ur hands and turning u around to face him

u struggle for a bit while ur arguing with him and telling him to let go so u could go to sleep

“stop! i am your boyfriend, i am the only one who is going to care for you like this. i am the only one who is dying, seeing you like this. do you understand? we’ve been through seven months of this together, it was fine for awhile and now you’re fucking turning me away?”

hes shouting at this point, hes just so pissed after three months of not having answers and your attitudes and arguments, he cannot handle it

u start crying

hes quick to hold you, pulling u down to the bed so u don’t have to stand on ur tired feet anymore

“i don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 🥺🥺🥺

he insists u two will find out n u both will get thru this rough patch together

perinatal depression, they diagnosed u

changbin is so upset when he hears the doctors tell u

everything is making sense to him and he’s just so heartbroken he didn’t put two and two together earlier

he takes time off for the time being to make sure ur taking care of urself

hes watching u like a hawk but trying not to make it evident

the first time u ask him for a kiss, he gives u dozens

he hadn't been asked for kisses in so long he was so relieved 🥺

he’s constantly telling u how beautiful u r and talking to ur bump about how they have the best genes and their uncles

this man is a father already it seems

he is ur #1 face mask partner cause he buys the cute ones only because u deserve the cute ones that r ur favorite ◝(ᵔᵕᵔ)◜

cooking together is something that happens, not often but every once in awhile he will let u do small things

cut up some lettuce? sure! pour in the soup broth? of course u can! taste test his food? always.

he wants to make sure ur comfortable with him touching u or kissing u or what hes saying

“i love you.” he’s mumbling, quickly placing a kiss against the fabric of one of his own shirts that was worn by u and fit u like a dress still

he then goes up to ur cheek n presses a kiss to it, ur hand cupping his jaw and letting him kiss ur lips >.<

also u guys let out a quiet talk of pregnancy to the public, letting jyp release a notice on changbin’s absence from live-streams and posts with the boys

u two received a lot of positive feedback which changbin let u read the positive ones n loved when u smiled at each one

u were overdue by a week which was the worst, ur back hurt and u had migraines

u also were put on bed-rest for the next week before u could be inducted

u guys waited out the week and u got scheduled for an induction

the labor was really slow which sucked because u just wanted to hold ur baby already :(

rly intimate moments like chan just holding u n rocking u like a baby

u guys are given this position to move the baby down, your knees on the ground so u could kneel against the bed and changbin would hold ur hips n rock them

he just feels so bad he can’t do anything to help u with the pain 🥺

yall kinda vibing with the hospital food (idk bout yall but some food from hospitals smack chile)

“i just want to go home.” :(

u bet ur ass he scoots into ur hospital bed, holding ur hands n u just cry into his shoulder

he feels like his heart is being torn to pieces when he listens to u cry out of pain

his free hands holds your jaw, making u look up at him

“we’re almost done baby, okay? i know it hurts, if i could i would take your pain in a heartbeat. you are incredibly strong and i’m so proud of you. you just need to hang in here for a few more hours, yeah? you think you can do that?”

u give him the weakest smile ever but its better than nothing

u reach 10cm!!!

now the part that wasn’t fun was the pushing :/

u were hurting, u were tired, and u had been promised almost seven times that all u need was one more push but no matter what, it seemed like the baby wasnt budging

“the cord is wrapped around the neck, we need you to stop pushing. okay?”

ur too tired and stopping the pushing sounded good so u did as they said but when they told u they needed to actually reach in and unwrap it ur blood ran cold

u both were worried about how much u could take

u screamed, god it hurt and it felt like hours of them twisting but it was a mere minute

the labor progressed n there it was

“a girl!”

u two are like faucets or waterfalls

shes literally the perfect mixture of u both 🥺

he washed her hair n helped wrap her up in a blanket, giving her over to u for the first time

u both were just in love with her, she was absolutely perfect

he’s obsessed with her, taking in that baby scent, the scent of the light baby shampoo and the bit of baby powder that lingered throughout her onesie

her hair wooooww its so soft n fluffy

her little baby pout and her puffy cheeks

i can see him calling her bunny for awhile as a childhood nickname

he’ll just be like

“oh that’s my bunny!!”

weird look from u but ur heart melts while he bounces her in his arms n gives her some kissies and running his fingers thru her hair

he’s also rly soft, i don’t see him singing but i see him definitely whispering to her about how she’s gonna grow up and have the best life because thats his little girl

“ur gonna have eight uncles, they are crazy but it’s okay. u definitely lucked out on fathers though, i’m pretty good at lullaby's. u did get great genes too, u have a handsome daddy and a gorgeous mommy. we worked really hard on making u, please don’t hurt ur cute little face. u also have a storm coming, there’s a thing called stays, they are gonna adore you, i promise.”

omgomgomgomg jejejejeje im blushing at the thought of this i just adore dad changbin 

u guys may or may not be planning for another but it definitely would happen in a few years

©️ maysdiors 2020 :: all rights reserved. do not repost my work on tumblr or other platforms.

#stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #changbin #seo changbin #changbin x reader #skz x reader #pregnant!reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids au #skz fluff #skz angst #skz au #dad!skz #dad!stray kids #bangchan #minho #lee know #hyunjin #jisung #han #han jisung #felix #felix yongbok lee #seungmin #i.n #jeongin x reader #jeongin

[goldafterglow]

my love is a dagger

Summary: Jack Daniels is hopelessly gone for you, and you’re starting to think it’s a two way street. Maybe.

Request: “May I please ask for Basorexia and Whiskey please? 🥺” - @scribbledghost (ma’am I’m SO sorry this took me so long and then after the long wait you got whatever this is); taken from this post

basorexia: the overwhelming desire to kiss

Pairing: Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x reader

Word Count: 4.8k+

Warnings: suicidal themes (just a little and not really but there’s definitely a line), sexual harassment, anGST!!, PINING omg SO much pining like folks get ready to y*arn, a little bit of fluff bc Jack is a sweet talking southerner and I couldn’t help it, more angst I rly hope you cry, there’s a cute little lesbian couple in one line so don’t read if ur homophobic! but that goes for all of my work :)))

Author’s Note: Thank the GODS for @catfishingmorales for being my first ever beta reader!!! maybe this one will make any fucking sense at all!!! also a special shoutout to my wife @pascalplease bc she stayed up all night vomiting headcanons with me about this and I didn’t even get to all of them.

Gif Cred: the lovely @coredrive​

Masterlist | Taglist Modifications

“Two single-bed rooms,” he says. No; he manages.

Jack has to pry the words out of his esophagus, the passageway so clogged with sleep that he thinks that if he clears his throat he might be able to clear it.

It doesn’t work.

He tends to add a little brightness and smile to his voice when he talks, always eager to please even strangers. He embellishes his sentences with pleasantries and a chipper shimmer that makes even the most overworked bartender smile and the most destitute rancher crack a grin because he has this uncanny ability to make everyone feel special. But right now, at eleven pm on a Saturday evening after what might’ve been the worst, most emotionally grueling mission Jack has ever completed, he is not pleasant. His words are simply a tool for him to get a message out, his voice choked and flat.

“I’m so sorry for the inconvenience, sir, but it looks like we only have one king-size room available,” the lady informs. She is looking intently at the screen, still typing and clicking like the words might miraculously change right before her eyes.

The powerful Agent Whiskey’s heart falls into his stomach.

He can’t tell if this is the best or worst thing that has ever happened to him. Is this finally the excuse he needs to sweep you off your feet, like the catalyst giving him the strength to overcome his intense paranoia? Or is this the last straw, the final stone before you step off the staircase of his heart and back out onto the run-down open streets without him? Panic floods his chest and he is so paralyzed that he doesn’t even know what to tell her; for once, Jack Daniels is speechless.

Thank god he doesn’t turn around; he’d’ve seen your wide frantic eyes and would’ve known immediately what you’re thinking.

“Oh, it looks like a vacancy just opened,” the hostess chirps, a hint of relief floating on her words. You and Jack turn your heads to your left, where a young couple is saying their “thank you”s as they rack up the handles of their suitcases, hand-in-hand. One girl leans over to kiss the other on the temple with a smile; they both seem so secure. You turn your head back to the hostess; the sight of two people being content was disturbing to you and frankly a little offensive. “Unfortunately they’re on separate floors. Is that-”

“We’ll take them,” Jack gruffs. He wants to sleep, wants to die, wants to be in any existence where your soft eyes aren’t glued to the back of his head because he can feel it and he thinks you might burn holes into his skull just to find that he’s hollow inside.

Empty.

The transaction is quick and a little forced. She hands you both your respective key cards wordlessly, and if your eyes had lingered on her just a little longer you would’ve caught her face falling into it’s default relaxed state of misery. Jack walks with you to the elevator in silence, but he’s still close. He’s always close to you. Often you’ll turn your head in an empty room and anticipate him being there just to be sorely disappointed, though you aren’t sure what you’re always so disappointed for. His spirit haunts your thoughts, floats around your body and does laps around your brain because he is always there when you need him, so much so that you expect him to be there when you don’t need him. You want him to always be there. To always be with you.

Strange thoughts to have so late at night.

Jack sets his bag down beside you, stepping forward to press the button for you; it’s such a small gesture, something that he probably didn’t even think to do since hospitality runs in his bones, and yet you noticed it.

Strange.

The door opens, and he wordlessly puts a hand on your back, guiding you towards the elevator in front of him. Letting you on first. You can’t help but smile a little at him; you can tell he’s so tired and yet he still finds it somewhere in his heart to make you feel so important.

“You know I don’t need that from you,” you tease lightly, turning to look at him as the doors drag shut. The elevator shudders around you, indicating that it’s ready to start it’s journey to the fifth floor.

Jack grins at you; it’s not something he’s doing with his voluntary muscles, something that he thinks is coming off muted because he just doesn’t have the energy. It’s something he doesn’t even think about doing, a visceral reaction to hearing your sweet voice like aloe vera on his scorched throat.

“Well then, darlin’, take it anyways just to indulge your favorite cowboy,” he almost begs, lip pouted and eyebrows raised like he’s a child asking for candy except he’s an addict crying for just one more dose before the night ends because the nights he goes home without the memory of your eyes, your smile, your scent in his system are the nights he can’t sleep through.

You giggle softly, nudging his side gently because you want to crush him in your embrace and lift him onto the barbs of feathers into the moonlight all at the same time. To Jack, it feels like you’ve just kneed him in the chest, hogging all his air and wrapping his head in plastic so he can’t breathe, not that he minds. He’d let you tear at the delicate skin of the inside of his wrists, bite into the gentle flesh of his cheeks until he’s on his knees, bleeding at the seams. He’d let you destroy him if you wanted to.

He sighs a little, so dead, as a flush of air enters the vacuum of the elevator; you’ve arrived. But he doesn’t want to leave yet, wants to wring every last drop of your attention out of your pliable bones, so he follows you out and walks you to your room.

“I don’t need this either,” you say, a yawn stretching and blurring the edges of your words.

“I know,” Jack concedes, rolling his eyes in a way that is so adoring that he might as well have kissed you full on the mouth.

Not that you wanted him to.

“I know you don’t need a lick of help from me, sugar. Maybe I just like giving.” He grins down at you again, his side brushing against yours as you place slow, careful steps down the carpeted floor.

Yeah, he likes giving.

He gives you his leftover coffee when he “doesn’t want it” - it’s a tall cup of his favorite brew. He definitely still wants it. He gives you his blazer when you call his desk landline just to tell him your office is cold because you know he’ll give it to you. What you don’t know is that it’s because he’s completely and utterly whipped for you - he’d strip naked in a snowstorm to keep you warm, hold you in an icehouse as the bite of the frost burrows into the cracks of his dried skin, because he doesn’t need clothes when you’re in his arms. That’s about as warm as he’s ever been.

He gives you his time of day - almost all of it. He’s the first person you see when you step into work, the last face you see when you’re ready to retire. He walks you to your office every morning - he had to beg Champ to switch offices with him so that he could be adjacent to you, but every ounce of dignity lost was paid back to him with royalties in the precious extra seconds he gets to spend rubbing his shoulder against yours. He saunters into your office unannounced daily at 12:35 pm sharp to eat lunch with you, flopping onto your couch with the audacity of a man wet with wealth and simultaneously listening to you rave about your day with the patience of a therapist. Your time is a sacred commodity to him, and he makes sure that he’s earned it.

He gives you his whole soul. Sometimes he wonders if you’ll one day open your purse and find his glass heart sitting there, beating hard and loud and only for you. He wonders if you’d pick it up and smash it against a wall. He wouldn’t mind it at all.

The silence hangs in the air, dancing on your breaths as you seem to be inhaling each other, soaking in each other. It’s strange, the moments you share alone with Jack. There are the ones you share late at night, croaking at each other over the phone about how shitty that one show ended or how beautiful blue things are. Blue like his suffocated lungs, like the ocean of tears that drown him when he looks at you, like the finger you’ve got him wrapped around real tight.

But then there’s the moments when you’re in a room full of people. The briefing room sitting at a table spanning the length of the room that’s completely full of people, a club chock full of sweat and neon energy, the lobby of the lavish estate of a target where the bourgeoisie can swarm and stalk each other. All he has to do is toss you a roll of the eyes, a grin, a subtle brush of his hand against yours, and you are instantly thrown into the web of his affection as you get lost and locked in the atmosphere of his presence. Like, even in a room full of people, he’s the only one around. You’re not breathing in oxygen but the hickory fumes of his skin, the only sound getting registered being his dark honey voice. You’re not quite sure how he does that, distorting reality so heavily that you feel like you’ve traversed to an alternate dimension every time he touches you, pays any mind to you. Every single time.

“This you?” Jack asks, his words like a rubber band to your pulse as you’re snapped out of your train of thought. You look up at the room number - room 513 - and then down at your keycard. It reads the same. There’s a dull ache of disappointment that erupts through your chest, beige and static like the chipped paint on the walls.

“Yeah,” you mutter, turning to face him with your back to the door. He smiles at you softly, gentle like his fragile soul that you always manage to make hurt so bad without doing a single thing, and he opens his arms to you. Nothing out of the ordinary; you’ve grown accustomed to his goodbye hugs. “You’re so needy,” you giggle, stepping forward to bury your face in his pillowy chest and letting yourself sink into the quicksand of his warmth. It’s so easy to get caught up in him like a butterfly to a flower, and yet it’s so hard to pull away. He’s always been difficult to separate from; every time it’s like you’re sewing a microfractal of your esse into the velvet of him. Not big enough for you to notice, but still missing, and it adds up every time until there’s a big gaping hole in your chest that Jack holds claim to and the only way you feel right is when he’s with you.

I know, he wants to say to you. I know I’m needy. I know that you’re the only one, the only person, the only fucking thing that I’ve ever wanted this bad. I know I steal your time and your space and your thoughts but I’m a greedy man. Please forgive me. But he doesn’t say that; he could never say that to you. So instead he buries his face into the top of your head, trying to get a big sleepy lungful of you before he parts with you for the night, and says “Can you blame me, baby?”

You look up at him, eyes bleary and red but still eager to be so close to him. “Always such a tease.” He smiles wide at you, like he’s looking at a whimsical sprite so colorful and magnificent, but it’s just you. What does he see when he looks at you?

“G’night, pretty girl,” he coos, arms still wrapped around you and eyes big and doe-y. Please don’t leave yet, my perfect thing. Except that’s the part that stings him the most; you’re not his. He doesn’t get to say that sacred “my.”

“Good night, Jack Daniels,” you whisper, words fanning on his cheeks like waves of heat from a bonfire. But you don’t move, and neither does he. Not yet. Please.

He’s looking down at you with a certain reverence, like you were sculpted by the angels and placed right here in front of him with intimate precision. And then, without a breath to spare, he leans down and presses a kiss on your forehead so light that you wonder if it even happened or if someone has just thrown a marshmallow at your face. A friendly kiss from a friend that you’re friends with.

It feels like the seams of your limbs are being ripped out as you slowly separate from him, flashing him a soft smile as you take your duffel bag and unlock the door in front of you. You step into your hotel room, the air conditioning immediately sticking to your damp skin. As you close the door you catch him still standing there, looking at you like you’re something so precious.

Platonically, of course.

You sigh as you look around the room, suddenly freezing. The tiny dress you’re wearing doesn’t add much insulation and the big diamond necklaces and chandelier earrings and silver cuffs adorning your body like ornaments become ice on your skin. Kicking your shoes off and into a forgotten pit of the room, you step into the bathroom. Flicking the light on, you stare straight at the bulbs, letting the light sear your pupils just so that you can focus on something other than Jack fucking Daniels. Your jewelry is the first to go, becoming a delicate display on the bathroom counter. Something so pretty, but they’ve left angry dents in your skin that are starting to inflame and you figured it was too good to be benign. Nothing so beautiful, nothing that makes you feel so beautiful, could do so without hurting the paper-thin barriers of your heart. You’d have to be a fool to not know that.

You open up your duffel bag, fishing around impatiently until you find your makeup remover and cotton pads. As you erase the paint on your skin, removing the rough mission from the memory of your face, you start beginning to look less disheveled and more exhausted. Now you can really see the dark circles under your eyes, the discomfort of Rolex’s touching the small of your back and Armani cologne grabbing at your hips while you let it happen. Your body had become free real estate and in just hours you had broken down to feeling like you were stained, a dirtier version of yourself that couldn’t ever be cleaned.

You hadn’t felt so filthy when you were in Jack’s arms.

Eager to try and scrape the mission from your lungs, you peel the tight fabric off your body, letting out a breath of something far redder than relief as it falls to a pool around your ankles. You turn around to reach for the shower handle and grip it hard, letting the cold steel fill your palm as you twist it mid-way. While you wait for the steam to seep into your pores you reach for a bar of packaged soap on the bathroom counter, sizing up the créme box. It’s about a centimeter thick, easily filling your palm, and you frown a little at realizing that most of it will be thrown away, unused. Such a waste.

Turning your attention to the water, you run your hand under the water pouring out of the shower nozzle. It’s warm enough. But you don’t want it to be enough. You want it to melt your skin, to burn through your used body and shed your cells to unleash the layers beneath, the layers that Jack had touched, because thinking that your body has been safe inside his embrace feels better than thinking that you put your head in the jaws of the alligators and hoped they wouldn’t snap.

Once the water is burning, sure to inflame your skin, you step in and close the shower curtain before beginning to let the soap glide along your arms. Except it’s not enough. You’re not clean enough. So you run the bar over yourself again and again, wearing it down as your skin turns hot to the touch until you’re using the tips of your fingers to salvage the last bits of product onto your chest. Shit. You don’t even realize that the bar is all used up until you feel the sensation of your fingers rubbing against your now irritated skin and yet you still feel soiled. So you elect to give up on your sorry attempt at washing away the strange eerie touches and predatory looks and turn off the water, drying yourself off.

The solitude in the air stings.

By the time you’re laying in your bed and looking up at the plain off-white ceiling so that you don’t have to look at the old collections of dirt in the crevices of the wall and carpeted floor, you haven’t thought about Jack for the past 30 minutes. Not since you were washing yourself and the ghost of his fingers scraped your scalp, making you long for the feeling of his chest pressed to your back and the sound of his voice floating into the vinyl of the curtain liner while his hands danced in your hair - 

Not since then.

But Jack Daniels is most certainly thinking about you, and he’s far too deep to bother pretending that he isn’t anymore.

He stands outside your door for just a little while longer after you close it, staring at the fool’s gold embellishment on the front as he basks in the faint warmth of your spirit that lingers in the space of the hall and inside of his bones. He’s not sure how he got so lucky so as to be able to touch you without abandon, kiss your forehead out of greed and hold you in his arms because he really is so needy. He replays the scent of your dainty floral perfume and rewinds the heat of your forehead under his used, chapped lips, trying to commit you to memory as if he hadn’t done this a million time already, as if he hasn’t tried to burn a million of your hugs into the plush cotton of his skin like a brand. Your fading ghost consumes his mind, and by the time it’s whispering farewell to him, he’s already at the bank of elevators waiting patiently for the doors to open for him. Jack does a lot of that; waiting.

The weight of his duffel bag starts to grow and he can’t tell if his tired left arm is getting weaker or if the bag is getting heavier, but he can tell that his nerves are aching because he already misses you.

He’s always missing you.

The trip to his room is quiet, lonely, and as the elevator doors close for him to make his way to the 6th floor he wonders if this is how it’ll always be. Having you so close, seeing you right in front of him, and yet never truly being with you the way he wants to be. Never belonging to anybody, just a wisp of air passing through your life without holding any true substance or having any real meaning to you; but what a privilege to be one of your wisps. To have been in your lungs and have seen what he imagines are wide open plains, vibrant with wildflowers and gentle beasts. He wishes he could stay.

The elevator door dings.

This time he is caught off guard and he inhales like a shudder, eyes darting around the cold yet damp walkway to see if anyone has caught him thinking, caught him yearning.

Hallucinating.

Deluded.

He steps inside of the compartment with his stupid heavy duffel bag, immediately letting it fall to the elevator floor. His eyes find the plastic, cloudy buttons making up the keypad of the elevator. His left arm lifts to press the “6” button but he immediately regrets it, feeling a searing agony shoot through his shoulder. He mutters a little “fuck” to himself like it’ll help balm the pain, and of course it doesn’t, but Jack is a stubborn man and the buttons are to his left, so he shakes his arm out the way you shake out your boots before stepping inside mama’s house and tries again. But his dry, chapped fingers struggle to reach for the buttons, shaking in his own seismic wake. It takes him a few seconds to steady himself, taking temporary control over his body so he can actually touch the button; the plastic is cracked, a small piece having fallen off to be lost, likely thrown away. A discarded fracture in the shell leaving the inner label forever open and exposed, never to be whole again.

The elevator door shuts.

Jack lets out a low sigh, leaving his arms to fall to his sides as he leans against one of the walls. The back wall of the elevator is reflective, muddled and stained but clear enough that Jack can see what has become of him. His stetson is barely on his head anymore, his tie crooked and his collar untucked. He almost feels like a suit monkey, walking around playing dress up with the caveat of poisoning a man’s fresh champagne. But you told him he looked so handsome all gussied up like a proper gentleman worthy of taking a dime like yourself out. So he leaves it at almost.

He does a lot of that too.

The elevator hiccups, and as expected the doors open, inviting him to leave. He looks down at his duffel bag and he can already feel the weight of it on his weeping muscles, but he’s so close to his room and he can’t give up now that’s he’s made it so far, so he uses the momentum of his swinging right arm to sweep the bag up off the floor and drags himself out of the elevator. Not the best thing he’s ever done, but certainly one of his proudest moments.

The sixth floor is less damp, less like a moldy underwater cave and more like he’s at the top of a breezy mountain where the strands of air are like spurs to his cold, tight skin. Crisp. It is different, and yet he feels the same. Like his joyful warmth has drained out of his system, flushed out of his body, and on the inside he is the 5th floor of a shitty decrepit hotel in the middle of fuck all Kentucky. 

He makes quick work of finding his room, the inertia from getting off the elevator being the driving force that gets him down the two hallways and standing before room 645. He pulls out the plastic keycard, adorned with scratches on its surface and stains on its edges, and shoves it into the card reader. With a subtle flash of green and a gentle click, the door gives way for Jack to practically fall inside. He flings the bag as far across the room as his arm will let him, letting gravity control his movements as he is drawn to the white mattress in the center of the room. He releases a groan a little louder than should be appropriate this late at night - he checks the alarm clock on the bedside table to confirm that it’s 11:08. He hasn’t been apart from you for longer than what, 4 minutes? No, he did stand outside your door for a little bit. He decides it’s been 5 minutes.

Oddly enough, the extra sixty seconds don’t make him feel any less fucked.

Now that he’s finally still, his body begins to focus on how sore his legs are as any pain grows from the ends of his limbs and seeps into his chest. He can feel the weight of the night press down heavy on his diaphragm, suffocating him in a way that travels to his eyes and sprays sand like mist onto the walls of his throat. He selfishly lets himself lay there for a second, thinking about that weight being you pressed up against him, face buried in his chest or his neck or in his own face. It’s sacrilegious the way Jack thinks about your touch, the flutter of your lashes like majestic butterfly wings against his cheek, so enticing. So pretty.

His shower is fast despite the way his muscles screech at him to let them rest, begging him to just fucking sit down. When he leans down, back made of creaky burnt red iron, to reach for his sleep clothes, he does a double take; there’s not much in the bag at all. A bunch of small, disguised weapons, communications devices, a pair of grey sweats, a white t-shirt. Nothing oppressively hefty to pull on his tendons; at least, not in a way that could practically drag his shoulder out of its socket. Then suddenly he remembers; he had been holding your bag until you’d both reached the lobby desk. It was a long walk from where you’d been instructed to dump the care and the hotel, so after watching you squirm a little in the freezing air, he offered to take your bag off your back. He’d walked with a bag in each arm for maybe a minute before he realized that his greedy fingers missed being wrapped around your side, missed your melted essence seeping into his stomach, so he’d held both bags in the one left hand for the rest of the thirty minute walk. He hadn’t even noticed how bad he was hurting; perhaps you were too distracting, smile too alluring as your words painted his eyes in lilac and blinded him from his own discomfort.

For being the one person Jack wanted, you sure did hurt him a lot.

Once he is dressed, he lets his sore body absorb into the linen sheets as his muscles finally find some form of permanent relief in the salve of stillness. But this is a dangerous state to be in; when Jack isn’t talking someone else’s ear off, he thinks. He fantasizes, ponders, mulls and muses himself into a state that is suspended between consciousness and sleep.

He thinks about your lips.

You’ve never been too shy to mouth him off, poking and prodding at him and his eccentric cowboy aesthetic. Seeing you walk in every morning and beeline it straight to greet him with a casual fifteen-second hug sends daggers flying into his heart every time, a pain that he’s learned to brace himself for and yet can never seem to be able to handle. And when he looks down at you, adoring eyes and all, he can never help but glance at your lips. It’s always short, a self-indulgent guilty pleasure that he could never admit to, and he thinks about the way they feel against his collarbone when you hold him tight. He thinks about the way they might feel on his own lips.

Sinful.

And then he is thinking about that wretched mission, flashes of luxury clothes and manicured hands trying to feel you up right in front of his eyes. The way you fake smiled at men with money and wrinkles as they leaned into your ear, trying to whisper enticing tales of exorbitant trips to islands that are garishly tropical and dresses so exclusive and designer that no one in the world would own a duplicate. Watching in utter silence because no matter agonizing his need for you is, you’ll never be his.

Suddenly that ache in his body has traveled to his face. It’s so painful to think about you, and yet he takes the jagged edges of his love for you and drags them through his wrists because he’d rather fucking bleed than ever forget you.

Outside his window he hears the clouds crash into each other as an icy downpour beats the pavement. And like a curse, at the expense of his own self-destruction, the image of you in his arms in front of room 513 slices through his brain. Your face right under his mouth, forehead right up against him, your lips right fucking there. And then the feeling of you pulling away. Of you leaving him to rot with the flies, because he’s never going to be strong enough to tell you how bad he needs you,  let you tear his heart into a million pieces for good.

From somewhere in his room the rain begins to fall on his face.

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people who most certainly did not ask to be tagged sir: @agentpike @damndamer0n @dindjarindiaries @moonglowcarrillo @girlwithanewplan @mrpascals @bunnykjm @maxlordd @buckstaposition​ @cryptkeepersoul​

This is new so I’m putting it down here too, but I made a little form for those of you that want to be added/removed from my taglist (pls take it my tags are very disorganized rn).

#agent whiskey #jack daniels #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey angst #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x you #jack daniels angst #angst #iris writes #iris original #this was supposed to be a cute fic about wanting to kiss ur crush #and now it is #this #wow the mistakes i make

[extremelyblackandwhite]

handmaid - 06

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap, sexual content (18+)

A/N: i’m so happy you guys are enjoying this reader specifically. i have a soft spot for ingenues mostly because i was always type casted as the ingenue when i used to be in musicals and love to defend ingenues (mostly cosette bc everyone hates cosette FOR ZERO REASONS STOP HATING COSETTE).

 i was a bit afraid she would come out as very annoying (once again she is heavily inspired by cosette and christine and everyone hates cosette for, and i shall repeat again, no reason) but i’m rly glad everyone seems to enjoy this version if y/n. hope you enjoy this chapter xxx

NEXT CHAPTER

White. That was the very first thing she saw, the pure white, unspotted celling of her bedroom as she woke up. The sunlight warmly caressed her skin, reminded her that she did not remember when or how she had fallen asleep. If she had purposely done so, she would’ve closed the curtains but the warmness of her face told her otherwise. 

Lazily, she raised her chest from the bed, sheets bunched up in one of her fists pressed against her chest. Y/N glanced over to the alarm clock on her nightstand, 5 AM, and then to her figure, she was still to get out of her undergarments and petit coat from last night. She guessed, she must’ve fallen asleep waiting for Gwen. As that came into her head, she rushed out of her bedroom, her feet padded over the dark floors until she reached her friend’s room, gently and slowly opening the door. Her worries subsided once she saw her friend sleeping on top of her duvet, dress and shoes still on. Well, at least she was home.

      - I’ve already checked on her. - Y/N slowly closed the door, her breathe getting stuck in her throat as she recognised Sebastian’s voice. In all honesty, she still did not know how to react around him, specially after last night. 

Nevertheless, she turned around, her body facing his despite the distance between the both of them. He was in much more casual wear, a far cry from the constantly pristine pressed suits he wore, wearing a loose white tee shirt with some grey sweatpants. Still, despite being dressed in approachable clothing, he still looked more intimidating than every man she had ever met. Who was she kidding? Even the loose tee and sweatpants were probably more expensive than everything she owned all together. 

Sebastian, on the other hand, felt his throat and mouth water up at the sight in front of him. The once very polished hairstyle had collapsed, probably during her sleep, and she was bare faced, rid of any makeup. However, it wasn’t that which sparked wild thoughts in his mind, it was what she was wearing. A white lacy bustier met by a voluminous white petticoat and a garter holding her stockings in place. She looked straight out of his wildest fantasies and he had to clear his throat before he could say anything else to her.

     - I can get the maid to prepare you some breakfast, if you wish. - he tried to look at anything but her body but god, did she looked like the most delightful thing he’d ever set his eyes on. - Anything you want. 

     - I think I’ll just sleep for a little longer. - she gave him her signature sweet and soft smile. He just nodded, afraid his voice would fail him as she passed by, her floral scent invading all his senses. She always smelled nice and he felt like a teenage boy admitting just how her scent alone drove him wild. Flowery, fresh, exactly what he expected someone of that level of naiveté to smell like. Innocent. 

As she disappeared from the hallway onto her bedroom to sleep until a regular hour, Sebastian bolted into his and from there straight into his own personal bathroom. Taking his clothes off, he stepped into the shower and turned the cold water on. He knew better not to think that way about her, specially her of all people who’d probably be by his future wife’s side for the rest of her life. Yet, he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop thinking of her plump lips, her polite sweet little smile and how the lace stood against her skin. Fuck. She was the most gorgeous little thing ever created.

The water rushed down his back, pooling at the porcelain floors of his shower while his hands were held up against the dark marbled walls. His lips were slightly parted as his mind took him back to her, her breasts caged by her bustier, her slightly parted plumped lips she would bite on whenever she felt any sort of embarrassment ... god did he want to bite that lip himself. At this point, half his mind was telling him to go for it while the other half was telling him he was going to hell for this, for thinking about such a precious thing is such a dirty manner. Hell didn’t scare him, he already had a first class ticket there so he might as well relish into the sins of the flesh. 

His hand lowered down from the wall down to his bulge, mind fixated on Y/N, on the memory of when he had first meet her. God, she looked even more stunning on her knees and he couldn’t help but imagine her plump lips around him, taking all of him with those innocent eyes starring up. 

He gripped his cock, taking a long initial stroke up and down and then a few more times. A loud groan escaped his lips as he pictured her on his bed, how pretty she would look moaning and squirming under him as she brought her to the best type of pleasure possible.

     - Fuck, Y/N ... - he moaned, thumb swiping over the red tip and threw his head back. He stroked himself a couple of times more in corkscrew like motions, groaning as he reached his release. - Fuck. 

He leaned his head against the wet marble walls, feeling the cold water rush down his back. Fucking hell, how was he gonna cope with her constantly padding around his house with an innocence of a Disney princess come to life. As he stepped out of the shower, he heard a knock on his door. It better not be fucking Gwen, he thought to himself. The last thing he needed was for Gwen to come over and annoy him with trivial questions. 

Sebastian pulled his underwear and sweatpants from the floor, putting them on before walking to the door of his bedroom, opening it to see a very concerned Y/N standing there. 

    - Are you alright? I heard you calling out for me? - god fucking damn it, he thought to himself. There she was standing worried about him and all he could think about was picking her up and throw her into his bed. - You have very thin walls. 

    - I think it might just be your lack of sleep playing tricks on you, angel. - Sebastian glanced at her face wondering if she had bought it, yet considering she was very tired and it was 5.30, she did. However, there was a hint of worry in her eyes. 

   - Are you sure? You look really red. - she raised her hand, moving it to touch his forehead which she would’ve done successfully had Sebastian not grabbed her wrist mid air. He knew that what he needed the least right now was for her to touch him. If she did, he would’ve probably need to jump back into the shower and stay there for a good hour. 

    - I’m alright, Y/N. Go back to bed and sleep. - Y/N wasn’t very convinced he was alright but decided to return to her bedroom nonetheless. She sat on the edge of her mattress, wondering if sleep was ever gonna come back. 

After a few minutes rolling around in her sheets, she came to the conclusion she couldn’t go back to sleep. Y/N got dressed in some leggings and a big hoodie, finally getting rid of the petticoat and the bustier that was starting to make her rather uncomfortable. Opening the door to her bedroom slightly, she peaked her head out, watching Sebastian walk into his office followed by a couple of men, already fully dressed up. She preferred him in his casual wear but by the sheer amount of men following him into his office, she guessed he was about to have a meeting. She sighed, grabbed her phone from the dresser by the door and went down the stairs to the kitchen where one of the maids, Amelia, was. 

   - Good morning, Miss Y/N. - the middle aged woman smiled at the handmaid, the first person she saw today. - What would you like for breakfast?

   - It’s okay, Amelia. I can do it myself, you don’t need to tire yourself. 

   - Miss Y/N, it is my job to take care of you and Miss Gwen. - she turned the kettle on before standing on the opposite side of the balcony. - I can cook you whatever you want.

   - I don’t wanna be a bother.

   - Miss Y/N, if you don’t ask me for food, then what am I supposed to do for the rest of the day? Mr. Stan doesn’t take kindly to people slacking off.

   - Could I get a poached egg on toast, then? - Y/N still didn’t feel comfortable asking for stuff. Technically and contractually speaking she was an employee like Amelia and the other bodyguards yet she still got treated like Gwen. Her mind kept screaming at her it wasn’t exactly fair. - But I do the dishes later, deal?

   - If you insist, Miss Y/N. - Amelia turned the toaster on, slicing two slices of sourdough bread and sticking them in the device before setting the water to boil in order to poach the egg. Y/N just stared, enjoying the low sounds of the kitchen appliances until screams started coming from Sebastian’s office which made her skip a breathe, not expecting the loud noise.

She could hear him scream at his men from his office in a language she had never heard. She wasn’t afraid of him screaming, the time to be scared of him was long gone and she would fear him more whenever she disobeyed him rather than when he screamed at his goons. Y/N was more than used to hear powerful men scream at their employees. She sipped on her tea, eyes moving from his office’s door at the top at the stairs to Amelia who was equally drinking the hot beverage, ignoring the noise. 

In the middle of all the noise, a very annoyed Gwen, still wearing her red gown, came down the stairs. Her eyes were still filled with sleep and laziness while the rest of her features showed a completely lack of ignorance towards the noise that probably woke her up.

   - Amelia, get me the greasiest plate of bacon you can manage and a cappuccino. - Gwen muttered, her head pounding at any amount of noise as she took a place next to Y/N. - This house fucking sucks. 

   - Maybe if you didn’t get drunk that wouldn’t have happened. - Y/N raised from her seat to help Amelia with Gwen’s breakfast order, turning the coffee machine on. The heiress just scoffed, leaning against the plush leather seats of the high chairs standing by the balcony. Who needed a mother’s reprimanding nature when Y/N was around? 

The handmaid placed a cup of coffee in front of Gwen who immediately downed half of it, along with some pain killers to take care of the impending headache caused by too much fine wine and champagne. Nevertheless, much to Gwen’s annoyance, the screams got louder as the door to the office opened and a bunch of very grown yet very scared men walked out still being screamed out by Sebastian who then closed the door with a bang. 

Gwen waved at the men as they entered the lift, her flirtatious nature still shining over the impending doom of her hangover. She was flirty and no matter how engaged she was, she was still gonna be herself and Y/N had to applaud her for that. 

  - I’m gonna take Sebastian some tea. Gwen, please make sure you take those and drink plenty of water, please. - she warned, silver tray in hand. 

Mr. Forrest always enjoyed a nice cold glass of whiskey after a blown out fight with his associates, however, Y/N thought that alcohol wasn’t something Sebastian should be having after last night. Despite him not showing any signs of a hangover, he still had downed a significant amount of champagne flutes while she was by his side and what he needed right now was some nice chamomile tea. 

Filled with courage that was slightly wavering, Y/N climbed the stairs up to his office, fist lightly knocking on the wood of the door. When no answer came, she knocked again but this time she got a very arrogant “What?” back.

  - Sebastian? - she opened the door up to a fringe, eyes roaming inside the office.

  - Y/N, what is it? - his tone seemed to soften as she walked into the room, closing the door behind with her foot. He had to say, he was rather disappointed she was no longer wearing the lacy undergarments. - Is that for me?

  - Yes. - she placed the silver tray on top of his desk. - I thought you would need something to calm you down.

  - The sentiment is sweet, angel, but I severely doubt tea is gonna calm me down. - he sighed and she furrowed her brows. No problem or worry was big enough that it couldn’t at least be temporarily forgotten with a nice warm cup of tea. 

  - Is everything alright? - she asked, concern on her voice. He bite the inside of his cheek lightly before replying to her questions, wondering if he really wanted to explain mob business to her. - Sebastian?

  - Just need to get some affairs in order. Take this as a lesson Y/N, if you want something done correctly do it yourself.

  - I’ve known that since kindergarten. Did they not teach you that? - he chuckled, not being used to hearing her joke around.

  - Please warn Genevieve that I’m going to Paris late this evening to get it sorted. Not that she cares very much about my whereabouts but just in case she wants to smuggle someone else into my home. 

  - You’re going to Paris? - her eyes lit up at the mention of the French capital. She had gone there once with Gwen but she mostly hanged around the resort flirting around with as many men as she could and, as per usual, Y/N had to follow her around to ensure she didn’t get kidnapped or taken advantage of. Not that it was easy to take advantage of Gwen, she just ... needed constant supervision to make sure she made the safest and soundest decision possible. 

   - Don’t get so excited, angel. It’s an highly overrated city filled with people that can’t do their job correctly. - even with the backhand comment, there was still a sparkle in her eye. - If you’d like, you can accompany me but I assure you it won’t be as fun as movies make it sound.

   - Oh no, I can’t ... - she played with her fingers, looking down at her shoes in disappointment. - Gwen is a bit ... sick from last night and I have to take care of her.

   - So? - he lifted an eyebrow at her statement. - Ask her to come too. I’m sure she won’t deny a free trip to Paris.

tag list: @sideeffectsofyou​ @lilya-petrichor​ @xoxohannahlee @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater @nikkipea​

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan drabble #mob boss!sebastian stan #mob!sebastian stan #mafia!sebastian stan #sebastian stan au #mob!au

[theo-raekeno]

Can you do one where y/n is afraid to smoke but she always puts her hand in his smoke bc she thinks it’s cool. Jj wants to teach her and use it as a way to flirt but she always denies. Later he catches her playing with his zippo lighter and calls her a klypto too. He teaches her to smoke n it’s rly cute !!! Ok sorry I’ll stoppp!! I love ur blog tho🤩🤩

PROMPT # : PERSONAL REQUEST

WORD COUNT: 1660

WARNINGS: SMOKING

PAIRING: JJ X READER

LATIBULE

JJ sat at the edge of the deck when he was smoking, this location seemed to be the most comforting place for him in all reality, he loved the way this felt, his feet dancing through the cold water and his eyes tracing over the setting sun. You walked down the dock in the click of your boots and he turned to see you with a small smirk spreading over his lips, he was happy to see you were home after having gone to the mainland for some time. You were home. That's all that mattered to him, he licked his lips and moved over so you could sit down next to him.

“Hey there beautiful, it's good to see you're home again, I have missed you, let me say, trying to text you without a phone was literally one of the most impossible things - BUT uh.. Would you like to smoke?” he had handed it out to you, hoping you would take the blunt from his hand but you shook your head weakly and only watched him carefully. “ no no.. you know I don’t like to smoke but uh.. I must say I'm flattered you tried to talk to me through your imaginary phone..”

He took a deep breath, watching as the smoke reached his lungs and he took a second to blow out the fog that remained. You put your hand up and ran your fingers through the swirls of light, it was beautiful, you didn;t like smoking but you must admit, when you saw those puffs of smoke you couldn;t help but want to touch it. They were like those old paintings you would see in the chinese fairy tales, small, then they would spread so much bigger than itself, fading away to nothing.

A smile spread over your face when you finally put your hand down and he smirked again, he loved when you did that, you acted like the little things were so damn perfect and you appreciated fire along with the danger that came with it. “ you know.. You seem to be so appreciatitaive of the smoke that comes off of this blunt, I think one day you should just say fuck it and smoke, but anyways, I gotta make sure John B doesnt go to get himself killed by some crazy old woman who loves axes, Ill catch you later beautiful.”

The young man had stood up and kissed your cheek before he left, you turned a deep red and shook your head jokingly, you turned and waved to him. “ wow! You have a great time! Make sure you don’t die in that house or whatever in the hell the two of you are gonna do!!” He rolled his eyes and waved to him while laughing under his breath, your eyes traced down to the dock to see he had left behind his golden zippo lighter, it was beautiful, you had to admit to that, but you knew he would look for it if you didn't tell him you had it.

You shot a message to the younger man, aka John B, telling him that you had the lighter and that JJ could come over to your house and pick it up, he knew better than to come through the front door, your parents were way to strict after all, they were never going to allow you to end up with someone like him but goodness that didn't stop you from falling harder and harder for him. You watched as The Nun was on the screen, probably not the greatest idea to watch a horror movie when you're expecting guests but you did it anyway. The lighter was no bigger than your thumb when you ran your fingers through the small flame and smiled overly proud that you didn’t get burnt. It actually felt good, it felt like heaven to touch the fire.

JJ watched from the window when he saw you playing with what you had in your hand, his lighter, You ran your finger through the flame and stopped when it would hurt, it was like you were enchanted by the flame, the same way he was. It danced through the darkness of your room but he still saw that familiar look in your eyes, the wonder and the amazement, he loved that look, adored it.

He pushed the small window open, letting a little creak noise echo through your room, when you heard it, you instantly jumped into the air and shook your head. Your heart was racing when you turned and held onto the pillow as a weapon, JJ climbed into the room and flicked the lamp on when he got greeted by the pillow right to the face, “ hey hey you need to calm down there, princess.”

When you heard his voice you calmed down but shook your head slowly, you licked your lips and turned away in complete embarrassment, he was laughing and sat down on your bed. He picked up his lighter and opened it, letting the fire dance over the rough palm of his hand, he was still so handsome, in this light or even in the light of day, but you were drawn to the fire. “ you know i saw the way you had been looking at that fire, maybe you're a lot like me, a klepto, right? Do you know what that means beautiful?”

You bit the inside of your lip when you nodded and didn’t want to admit that the good girl was drawn to the feeling of freedom and the heat that fire seemed to give off, that was always gonna be enough for you. JJ stood up and grabbed your hand when he pulled you closer and started to take you towards the window, “ come on.. I know you're scared of smoking but youre gonna be okay when you're with me, I promise you that, just take my hand and trust me..”

“ of course I trust you.. But what happens if we get caught, what happens then?” He chuckled and moved your hair from your face when he knew you were truly worried about something like that, “ then we ran away from the cops.. If we are lucky we will get caught in a tight alleyway and you'll be pressed right into my chest..”

Of course that idea sent goosebumps up your spine but you laughed regardless, his eyes so soft when he had gotten you to agree. You stood up and allowed him to pull you out of the window, he helped you down and held onto your waist, leaning into your chest and turned a deep red because of it. He might have been smooth but when it came down to you, he wasn't that smooth person anymore, he lost all control of that and maybe you knew that, but maybe you didn't.

He had led you back to that dock where he sat down and held onto a small blunt, lighting it between his thumb and pointer finger, he could see you were nervous but he would have comforted you through all of it. “ I know you're scared, but look at me, you're gonna be by my side the whole time and- I know you won't be alone, i'm right here..” He winked and you nodded when you moved closer to his body, he placed the end between his lips when he took a deep breathe and you watched as he let it reach his lungs again, he then exhaled and you reached up to grab the smoke but he took your hand, “ i wanna hold your hand..”

A smile came onto your lips when you let your eyes trace down to his lips and he was doing the same, he knew you were staring and goodness how he was intrigued by you. He held out the little joint and nodded weakly, “ okay baby.. Sorry uh, beautiful, you use your thumb and your pointer finger, pressing it between your lips and taking a deep breath, when you do, suck it all the way in until you feel the smoke hitting your lungs, okay?”

You nodded in agreement and did as told when you pressed the drug between your lips and took a deep breath, allowing it to reach your lungs and soon you were coughing much louder than before, trying to control the burning but you couldn't. JJ laughed with a small smirk and held onto the blunt when you were done with it. He watched you so carefully, you're soft pink lips rising to meet the joint he rolled for this moment, the goosebumps that rose atop your skin when he ran his fingers over yours, he was so enamored and goodness how he just wanted to tell you how he felt in that moment.

“ okay okay, there's my girl, you hit that like you were snoop dogg, look at you go..” he chuckled and soon took another hit himself but this one was different, he moved closer nad pressed his lips into yours, he exhaled into your mouth but kissed you at the same time. It was the most euphoric feeling you have ever had, the running of happiness through your veins, how your eyes closed when you kissed him in return, goodness how you have been wanting to do that. You have always wanted to kiss him and now you have the chance to do so, you pulled back a moment later and leaned your forehead against his, allowing him to breathe when you blew the leftover smoke into his face. He was brave when he saw the red lines coming over your eyes, you were stoned out of your mind and he would take care of your giggly self, but the first thing he wanted to do was ask so softly, “ go out on a date with me.. Tomorrow..”

A/N - awe thank you so much! I am happy you love my account . It’s a mess right now but thank you for the compliment. I hope you enjoy it, i also left it open for a part two ;)

#outerbanks jj #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank imagine #jj x y/n #jj x reader #obx jj #jj obx #outerbanks imagines #outerbanks imagine #obx imagine #obx x reader

[spacegaywritings]

Communication of Silence - Chapter 9: Ups and Downs

I am rly tired and i think now TWs outside of the general ones for the whole story apply. Except there is food ig? Idk man, shoot me a message when you got sth I overlooked bc I am just big stress rn. linky link :) Story under the cut;

Virgil shuffled under his blanket and pushed his bottom lip forward into a little pout. His head was pounding dully and his vision was just blurry enough to have issues seeing Dee despite her being so close around.

“Talk...”, he repeated softly and nodded. The sleep was still heavy on her limbs, the nap seemed to have left him in a more tired out state than before. Exhaustion was pulling at his body and he extended his arms, making grabby hands like a little toddler who wanted to be picked up. Declyn gave him a smile and carefully moved around to let the other wrap his arms around her neck. She moved and tugged Virgil along.

Logan was far away enough to not directly be disturbed for now. He was still peacefully slumbering in the middle of the couch while the couple slowly moved away. “Room”, Virgil muttered as he held onto Dee who supported him without complaints. She nodded. “Of course.” The elder one carefully helped Virgil up and together they silently sneaked over to the room he shared with Logan. At least now he was sleeping and sure to not come back.

Virgil’s arms were lowered down to be around Dee’s chest by now instead of the neck. It helped him stretch with more comfort and still have the stability of walking around without immediately dropping to the floor like the wet sack of stones he was to his own life. He bit his lip as his partner reached out to open the door with the precision and care he would not have expected from the other considering his eyesight and the fact that it was dim enough to almost be dark at the moment.

The punk muttered an apology as the door opened and he leaned back, rolling onto his feet in a more straight-up position. He held onto the door frame and swung himself into the room, stumbling a little before he patted the light switch with a slap of his left hand that crossed over his chest to reach around to it. Light immersed them and blessed their eyes with temporary hurt in exchange for better vision after a few moments of adjustment.

Dee groaned at the new light and stepped into the room, dragging the door behind her until it was shut and closed them both off the others. Right now, they were alone with the elephant int the room. Virgil carefully slipped onto Logan’s bed instead of making the long way around it. He settled once he slid off it and right onto his mattress that was conveniently close.

Yes, he did not mind sleeping there, no matter how much people got worried about him or told him it was undignified or something. He liked it. Also it was a short-lived thing and he would move out in about a month. He would be fine together with his brother and he would be out of all the bullshit. Then again, he had not even a single problem with Logan.   Far from it.

He could see Dee move to join him on his little bed and she stayed at a distance. “Thank you for the light, Virgil” The art student cast a glance aside and shrugged. “Just spill it, okay? What did I fuck up this time - I.. I can stop, okay?”

Her expression changed from remotely pained to utterly horrified. “Virgil, no.” She breathed out and closed her eyes, her more neutral expression switching back onto her features in an attempt to ease up herself as much as Virgil. “I am worried about you. I do not want you to change for my liking but for your health.”

The student shook his head and gripped his lower arms through his sleeves. Immediately, a rubbing, intense pain spread through his left one and he hissed at the sensation yet denied the possibility of letting it go.

“Just tell me what I fucked up!”, he snarled, teeth ramming into his lip as he desperately kept his gaze on his mattress. The lawyer sighed softly but did try not to aggravate the other too much. Virgil was much like a cat and if it was not fight then it was flight - the mood would change faster than a dysfunctional compass needle could spin under the influence of magnets. “It is less about what you do but what you do not do, Virgil. You stopped eating again. Your friend messaged you and I saw it when your phone vibrated so much, it almost woke up you and Logan. A chain of whether you are alright and reminders of eating and taking certain supplements because you fainted in your self-defence training session.”

Virgil chewed on his bottom lip a if to bite through the situation. White, sharp teeth dug into his pale lips and created a contrast that would only be topped by the copper taste of crimson running from broken skin and destructive habits. “Yeah, so?” He grabbed his arms tighter and winced at the pain yet stayed grounded. It was shooting through him. It was quick like a bunny in the moment of flight and sharper than Dee's words had ever been.

Oh no. “My heart, would you mind giving me your hands, please? I just want to hold them for you.” Virgil looked over, merely glancing over her legs and shrugged eventually. His lips moved off his teeth and he shifted his legs to the so he could carefully reach over to give Declyn his hands. She received them and gently pushed her thumbs into his palms, softly brushing over the area in the middle of his hands that was a tad lower. The touch reminded him of stepping into a tub of hot bath water after a particularly icy and stressful time. It was sudden and he wanted to pull away at all the new sensations. The heat, the comfort, the smells and the hands that grabbed the heavy burden of his problems and worries. He did not pull back. Virgil eased into the touch like he would ease into the welcoming warmth of a relaxing bath. “See? I am not hurting you, Virgil. It is all good. I am just worried around you.”

The younger one nodded carefully and insistently stared into their hands. “Did you talk about it in therapy, darling?” Virgil sniffled and shrugged. “I can skip lesson and go tomorrow”, he mumbled into his hoodie. The fabric soaked up his anxiety and became heavy with his fear in solidarity. “Em lets me have emergency sessions if it is really bad.” Dee continued brushing over his hands, his thumbs moving in a steady rhythm. They travelled smoothly like the waves of the ocean that approached and left the beach curiously. It was a promise to rely on, the kiss of goodbye and the embrace of meeting again after so long.

“You do not have to. But if you feel that you relapse maybe you should talk to someone. If it has to be  professional, then so be it.” Virgil snorted. “You are a professional, Dee.” - “I am talking about a professional for mental health issues more than legal ones but I appreciate your effort.”

A long silence stretched between them like a tired cat. One end reaching up to Dee's knee over to Virgil's big toe. “Why did you stop?”

Virgil felt tears sting into his eyes, the words pushing his lacrimal glands to squeeze out the salty liquid he had stored plenty of in his body. He gasped for air. His lungs were raging and howling within him, demanding more and more air to enter his system without really appreciating it. They were simply throwing a tantrum for the sake of messing him up even further.

He shoulders flinched upwards in a weak motion and immediately dropped down to the lowest level they could anatomically reach without possibly be broken in the first place. His teeth clenched around his lips again. They were stuck and sucked into a grasp of violence and abuse as he stubbornly shook his head. The blood rushed through him in a quick sprint, painting his cold body in panicked flushes like rashes of abused skin.

“N-nothing”, he defended. His voice was deflated, thinner than hair strands that were bleached into oblivion and disintegration. Declyn’s warm eyes took the change into account and watched the rapid speed at which his lungs expanded and, just shortly after, decreased in volume like a popped balloon.

She carefully squeezed Virgil’s hands with a tad more force, acting like a strong life line that may cut into you but ultimately, caused nothing but collateral damage. Glass and metal shreds pressed into Virgil’s feelings as he gasped for air. His legs pushed and pressed his back further into the pillow behind him and the uncomfortable corner between the wall that backed up his mattress, and Logan’s bed bordering to it. He was effectively resting his shoulders against the wall and the bed, his back pushing into the nothing he could not reach due to the angle.

It would have caused more than dull pressing sensations rather than actual pain his body provided as warning signal. However, he could feel the heat coming from Dee as his body seemed to fade. All life and personal warmth was draining from him, down the pipes and into the void he felt eating him away. He was glad for it.

“Virgil, Virgil, listen to me”, Dee called out as Virgil starting tugging at her grip in an attempt to claw his finger nails into his skin and ground himself, just come back to where he should be so he could be faced with every dirt and filth he deserved to be pushed into him. All his sucky habits and horrible attitudes should qualify him to suck up to the damage he had done to others when he brought them down with his mere existence.

He was a bad influence. Virgil should not be, he should be gone gone gone because he kept hurting nice people in his life. He made Kyle worry and have Dee be mad with him - and she was right about it. If she had any sense of right and wrong with her like any other conventional person, she would beat it into him and let him feel just how much pain he had caused her by abusing the feeling she had in herself for his own sorry self.

Gasps and sobs could be heard but Virgil was deafened and muted by his own racing heartbeat. It was beating a lot right now, probably making up for the times it could not beat when he would miss out on all these years he could have but was not worthy of. He had not earned a single day more than beyond the day he was born and had wretched people apart, tearing life down with him and starting his career as professional bringer of misery and death.

It was his fault, his fault, only his fault. If he had not survived, everyone would have had a better and nicer life. If he had not lived in the first place, everything should have been goon and precious to everyone and people would finally be full of joy. Heck, not just individuals but whole countries and systems would be better off without the chaos he had caused. The best achievement in life was truly taking care of a rodent he should probably have never taken in but he just had to be so self-absorbed and convinced he was better than others and would do such a great job when in reality, he was the apparently oh so innocent manifestation of doom.

“Virgil. Virgil, can you hear me?”, a voice called. He barely heard it. His head fell back against nothing and almost rolled off. His joints had him good and instead, it unceremoniously snapped backwards and circled around like an egg. He took the effort to angle his neck a bit just to try and locate the noise that intruded into his system and disturbed his thoughts. The sounds just came in, wrecking the havoc in his mind and tearing down the storms of self-deprecation like an ideal sniper who gave just one sound here, another one there and directed yet another load of sounds into a direction Virgil did not even know he was bombarded from.

It took some more moments for him to let his knocked down mind process that the shit storm of pessimistic thoughts was barely hitting him anymore despite aiming at his form. In true fashion of lethargy, some more time passed before he blinked away the veil of self-directed odium and contempt and could see the distant picture of two hands holding a pair of other hands together. Colours were melting together but he felt as if he knew those were hands.

The artist hummed at the sensation. It was a weak attempt at vocalising the gratitude within him. For some reason, he just felt that these hands were something good, something personally connected to him like a string attached to his heart. It was so strong, he could feel the ghastly phantom touch at the area he assumed to be his own fingers.

“hm..huh...hm..”. Nonsense plunged from his slightly parted lips. His face was static, slow. It was frozen water, a video stopped in the middle of a scene while the rest of the world was still moving on despite his conserved state. Maybe he was in a snow globe. He was the middle. Unmoving, unimportant and surrounded by all that made people wonder and squeak in delight while he was the decoration people tolerated. He was the least of the worst ones.

He blinked, trying to clear up the whitish coat that seemed to not just blur his vision but darken all he could see as well. It seemed so unsteady and moving... It made him sick and...and sweaty and sick... so sick and heavy..

His fingers moved to sign “bathroom”, a word Dee knew at last. Whether or not she had but a few knowledge about the language used, she knew this words as part of a few common phrases she could react and identify at last. She nodded and carefully tugged the corpse-like body of her datemate forward.

He did not know what took so long about making eggs but he was grateful that Roman and Patton took their sweet time preparing things one by one and especially using sweet potatoes because they took a while to get soft enough for comfortable consumption. The couple made it into the room without issues and Declyn quickly shut and locked the door behind them after stumbling through the dark and running a few edges of furniture. It did not hurt too much but she was glad that she usually covered about as much as she could without appearing to be suspicious to other people or mask her face away. She could feel little areas throb in pain at the impact but it was none of her concern at the moment.

Virgil immediately dropped to his knees, arms ready to embrace the porcelain throne before him as he felt heat and sweat break through his body. Sick, nauseous. It was tickling in his throat, trying to provoke Patton’s baked delight out of him.

There was something else. Not within him. Besides his pounding heart, light head and sweating palms, there was the distant sound of another voice. Not his thoughts but another person.

It sounded like Dee but did not feel liker her.

”Sweetheart, you are safe”, she cooed patiently. Her words dropped onto him like water droplets in a cleansing shower. His body temperature seemed to immediately drop.

”It is okay. I would never hurt you. I am sorry for touching you.”

Virgil heard the words and took them in, accepted them with a dazed head and heavy yet light feelings in his body. This was like being drunk but there was no fun in it. There was so much going on within and outside of him, he could barely keep track. It was.. was like standing in the middle of the busy street, tires roaring and engines blaring while the heavy vehicles sped around him. And he was trapped and caged and could not get out and it was dangerous and loud and bad, so bad. Why was it so bad, why was he standing there! This was dumb, he was dumb, he must have done dumb things to make all of this happen and endanger him and others and he was so scared and worried. Oh fuck, he would die a nameless and faceless victim in a dumb car crash and no lane was every free enough for him to run over to the other side and be safe.

He could not even try it, he would never try it because it was doomed. He was bound to fail, he was, he.. he was already

..warm.

A warm hand gently caressed his cheek, brushing over his cheekbone. A silent yet constant sound could be heard. Like rushing of the water. Water did not hurt him.. water was okay..

”It is okay, you are safe.”

Virgil nodded against the heat in his body, the heavy and heat feeling that had him so dizzy. It was hard. It felt so hard.

The water sound returned and slowed down, Virgil concentrated on it with all his might. He tuned out all the sounds, all the voices and the worries. Nothing mattered. Just the water, just the sound from out there. His heart was not going to jump out of his chest, his body was not going to collapse and he would not just die.

What about his lungs-

Panic flared up within him once more. His small figure retreated and hit itself on a wall just to lean into the steady touch of something to lean against, to hold onto.

”Virgil, please, can you hear me?”

He nodded again. The voice was nice, he knew the voice was nice and he was okay... the voice made it okay. It would be okay. His tired eyes closed and he let his body slump against the wall.

”Put your feet down and press them against the ground, feel the floor, okay?”

There.. was no real sense to him or anything at this moment so he just did as he was told, trusting the voice to continue and be nice as he felt it would continue to be. Nice voice... Ground.. ground.. His toes curled and pushed his heels back against the ground with all the resistance he deemed fit. It was ..experimental and careful at first. There was a motivation and understanding that was not in these heels but somewhere else.

”Ease up, again”

He followed the instruction and let himself go limp. The whole tension had served him in nothing but pushing his back against the wall. It was a wall, a cool wall but it was not cold.

”You are here, Virgil. You are right here with me and you are safe.” He nodded again. His head just bopped forward as if knocked out but he was moderately-paced at leaning his head back against the wall once more. ”You are at home, do you know? You are here, in the bathroom. You live here with Logan in a room. Logan is a nice person, right?”

The emo smiled for a bit. He might not feel the happiness like sunshine in his heart but it did do the job to make the dull numbness fuck off a bit more.

“And you are living here and you are safe and you are not there anymore. You are not with them anymore. You are with people like Logan, like myself.”

Virgil felt his lip twitch into a lopsided smile. It was but the flash of a moment, the split in a second and the beat of his heart. Yes, Logan was nice. Dee was nice. She was really kind and made him feel pretty good. Like a natural thing.

“You are safe. Right here, or with me.”

The smaller one carefully nodded and slowly rose his hand to pat the space next to him before he started pushing his heels against the floor again. A grounding activity, he remembered it now. He knew it very well but sometimes it just slipped his mind when his panic curled around his eyes like a blindfold. But grounding was good.

If there was one thing Virgil has learned in all these years, then it was that one panic attach easily paved the way for another. It was important to ground yourself even afterwards and just make sure that you were really safe and back in reality. It was too easy to jump from one into another spell of dissociation.

Dee’s hand carefully pushed its back against the side of his hand and he took the invitation with delight.

“You are here, you are safe. I promise you are safe with me.”

Virgil nodded.

“I fucked up, though.”

Declyn shook her head.

“Oh, why would you say that. It was a silly misunderstanding.”

Virgil scoffed.

“A good enough one to set me off”, he shot back dryly and cleared his throat. His voice felt a bit raspy and his words felt like torture to him. The emo dragged every last breath out of himself. ���Uh, not what I meant, anyway.”

He carefully gestured to his right arm and sighed. Sometimes it felt as if he was the only one to really mess up his life. It was not on others but it was on him. Well, not that he would let himself think into that at this moment. He knew better than to do this kind of foolish thing.

“Aw, don’t be dramatic! We can fix this. Let me see.”

She extended her arm and Virgil rolled his eyes in return but willingly rolled up his sleep to reveal a bunch of colourful marks along with dark streaks. The curves and swings formed words and letters, they were strings putting it all together and forming a big arrow and meanings more than just a literal one.

“I know you pressed on it a lot but it seems fine. Come on, let us get out before the others get worried. You can keep an eye on it, so nothing happens. If you are worried, you can go to the parlour and tell them what happened.”

Virgil shook his at Dee carefully pulled the sleeve back over the tattoo. It was covered by a thin foil that almost reminded him of stickers. When his arm was in certain positions, it would wrinkle up a bit but it was solid. It was there to protect him and his new little treasure.

He hummed.

“I’m sorry.”

Declyn already got up and straighten out her clothes before she leaned down to offer Virgil a hand. He gladly accepted and got up with a bit of help from a supportive wall and his wonderful friend.

“Don’t be sorry, sweetie Vee, I know you are trying.”

The smaller man looked down at his socks and curled and uncurled his toes once more.

“I um”, he started but stopped himself again. Words were so hard. His were just trying to put things into movement he did not know to put into any phrase. It was a wild chase for sense in an intense situation.

“I..it got a bit dumb again and I was worried and had shitty dreams and such.”

Virgil shrugged it off, his head rolling over the side of his shoulder and leaning on it. His tongue pushed against his gums. Words... words...

“uhh.. I will try talking about it next time, okay?”

For a moment, Dee’s face was unreadable. Her lips were moving from side to side. Just a bit, merely more than a twitch. It felt like she was playing with the words, weighing them against one another to construct the perfect sentence as she tasted the flavour of his syllables.

“Okay. Please, try. I do not want to hurt you, Vee. I hope you know this.”

The other blinked up for a moment before casting his glance down again, just for a bit. Only to look up at her and into her eyes with a determination in hi face.

“I-I am safe with you .”

She nodded and carefully stretched out her arms halfway, they looked awkward at that angle but not quite as awkward as fully stretched out arms would be. Well, there was nothing odd or wrong if he just so happened to take another step and walk right into her literally open arms and just let himself be engulfed.

“You are. I am not like them, okay? I don’t want to hurt you, Virgil. I would never want to cause you any harm. I just asked because I am concerned for you. I know you have been so much worse last year.”

She did not want him to go back to that. ...Maybe Declyn did not say it but the sigh that followed her words spoke more hours of audio books could fill.

“Mh... you are so much better”, Virgil argued and carefully nudged her. “We should still go. I have no idea whether they are politely waiting for us or if they are actually taking that look to make some fucking eggs.”

Dee rolled her eyes this time and leaned back a bit, her eyebrows narrowing as she eyed the smaller individual before her. Her heart was filled with warmth.

The two started moving towards the door to exit the room. Virgil hooked one of his arms around his love and nudged his Dee with his head. She was a bit shorter than guys were on average but it was enough for Virgil to reach her shoulder only. His face buried itself a bit in her loving chest as they walked on.

“You really are the best”, Virgil reiterated, his words muffled by the fabric of Dee’s clothing.

“I am still sorry for not talking. Will do better.”

She smiled.

“Go to therapy or you can party alone next week”

Virgil snorted at that. Nobody else would be that dry and just shoot back with an answer like that. Dee was his sunshine, his hope on a fiery tongue. Did she ever do as expected?

Virgil squeezed her into a hug.

“I will.”

“I know.”

Steps outside could be heard and a loud Roman seemed to announce something. It was obviously his boisterous voice but his exact words were swallowed my the door between the two lovebirds and the three friends outside. They were in completely over worlds, different events and feelings holding them together and building up a unique scene of feelings and mutual understanding.

“And I love you, Dee”

She stopped for a moment and let herself look back at her joyful friend.

“You know I do love you too, Virgil. I love you with all my heart.”

Her gorgeous arms would around him and drew him in for a deep hug. Limbs and hearts joined in and let the hymns of the outside just disappear for a little longer. The panic was gone, Roman was forgotten. And if it was not for eggs to have a strong smell, even the meal would probably be fully wiped from their minds but the savoury sensation got to them, got to the bathroom like a sneaky snitch.

The emo took another deep breath, simply inhaling the warmth and love he was willingly provided without trick or secret conditions. It was a mutuality, a natural exchange between them. Constant, equal, balanced.

“Mhmm... the eggs smell good~”

“They better do because you really need to devour some food right the fuck now, my love.”

Virgil unlocked the door and opened it for them to get back into the happenings of this home. Once back into the kitchen, they could hear whatever had been up with Roman before.

The man had grabbed a roll of wrapping paper and pointed it at Logan, Patton in his arms and giggling in his giant demeanour of being ridiculously tall for a person that was a human being. “I demand it one last time, foul creature, hand back the princess!”

Logan blinked at Roman, lightly.. out of place. He looked a bit as if he had been dragged onto stage and he did not know the words to the scene and everyone was staring at him. The glassgreen-eyed man was still giggling in fits while hugging Logan close in a squeaky joy of childish delight.

Before Virgil even got to ask about what was going on, Dee caught on to this and put the back of her hand up to her forehead and let out a sigh, dramatic enough to put Shakespeare into a position of envy.

“Someone stop this violence and bloodshed! This is insanity” Her voice dropped from full and proud to thin, it was about as thin as the patience of a person in an emergency situation.

Roman had to be proud. His eyes sure seemed to sparkle with something undefinable at this moment.

“Please, this beast and I have taken to end this situation. We mortals and the magical beings shall make peace and live in harmony!”

Beast? He was a beast now?

”Hey!”

“Honey, you literally are a small demon.”

“...you are more demonic than I could ever make out to be, Dee”, he pouted in response and let his arms cross over his chest. “Whatever, let’s fucking end a war and shit.”

The princess giggled again. “Yeah, Roman! The dragon makes for really great cuddles! He hugged Logan as if to emphasise just how huggable he was! And huggability was a direct indicator of kindness and peacefulness. Which, again, showed just how low the level of likelihood to ”take-over-the-kingdom-and-enslave-humanity” was. ...At least in case of Logan.

Roman looked at the sudden turn of events, he admitted the twist but would he admit defeat? He might have been wrong, he might have been biased by his own stance as a human being, himself. What if he did? His doubts lowered his weapon and in the moment of vulnerability, his determination faded and Declyn was quick to snatch up a nearby roll herself an smack Roman’s sword out of his hands!

A huge gasp followed the betrayal and Patton sucked in a sharp breath. This blew, this hit so deep.

Virgil already caught the falling weapon and flash-stepped back into his partner’s circle.

“Roman, I challenge you. You are guilty for evoking hostility between the fantastic and simple beings, you are the villain to tilt the balance!”

She pointed her sword at the prince, who was still mourning over the loss of his own shiny weapon. Meanwhile, Declyn’s rich voice was back to the usual strength of a proud man and she stole all of Roman’s determination from him to enrich herself with this resource.

“No, how could you! You disarmed me in my own battle!”, the prince retorted in indignation. Hot feelings flooded his body. His eyes wandered from Declyn to her partner. “And you took my beautifully manicured sword!”

Virgil shrugged at that, his mouth twitching into a lazy corner for a lopsided-grin. ...and then he blew really mature raspberries at him. "Suck up, Princey. War sucks and only the higher-ups seek battle rather than conversation." His voice sounded so excited, it was amazing he did not jump out of his socks with all the energy circulating within him. Clearly impressive. Dee let her hand travel down to Virgil’s grip on the sword he had taken to be his. He had stripped Roman of his word, off his sword. There was barely any left to the pride of this man.

“I love you my dear but I feel we need to take a less violent approach.” She gently squeezed Virgil’s hands and he slowly lowered his sword, eyes sparkling red warnings at Roman who still stood there, frozen and perplexed at how the game has changed in under a minute. Much to his disadvantage.

Logan cut in, for the first time.

”I believe we need to call for equality in this mater. Violence has brought this terrible situation upon us and has made love illegal to us simple beings.”

His words were clearer than glass, they felt cold but in a refreshing manner. Like stepping into the water underneath the frozen surface of a natural lake. It was everywhere and it ran deep into Virgil, dripping slowly yet flooding his mind with meaning in less than a moment. There was an intent behind Logan’s words.

“Equality? You don’t mean some shit like going back on how it used to be, right?”

Roman scoffed at them.

“Equality? You are my subjects and your words are an incredulous audacity to my work and status!”

Virgil glared at the prince. There was enough feeling to burn down the parliament in these eyes. They were dark like the night of mischief in which any resistance group would rise up to revolt against the state as it was. To change everything radically and drastically without warning, without open ears.

“One of us”, Virgil prompted and Roman’s eyes grew wide. Could he taste the disgust for being just as valuable as any other life? “One of us! Yes, Roman!”, Patton cheered happily. His cheeks went wide and he held out his hand to let Roman in.

He invited him.

“I might love a dragon but all in all, I just love his heart. We all have a heart.”

Dee cleared her throat.

“As a vampire, I kind of do not but go on, dearest companion.”

Virgil nudged her to lower her sword which she had pointed at Roman, still. She slowly blinked at the man and arched an eyebrow at the royal. expecting something.

“This is a riot”, Roman started but his words dried up in his throat and he had to clear it, granting himself another moment of pause to consider his words. “You want to abolish the royal family in this land but can you dethrone all royals in this world?”

Virgil dropped the beautiful and freshly manicured sword, still keeping his intense gaze fixed on the struggling prince. The weapon fell down in tragedy, the metal making a clattering sound. (It was a paper roll still, it just made a dull sounds but this was a fantasy world we were improvising here) A quick kick let the sword cry out in abandonment, in rage and frustration.

In war.

“Maybe we cannot but love surely can. And we will try.”

Dee dropped her roll as well and stretched out her free hand to invite Roman as well. Logan joined, extending his long arm to welcome Roman into the life of a common person, the life of struggle and family, the life of everyone. The prince still seemed torn, one foot closer to the group of unusual lovers and one closer to the kitchen unit and the cooling dinner eggs.

“You do not have to be afraid, Roman. You will be respected as a person, not for a crown.”

The prince looked to the side and picked up a small package of big loops.

“I want us to have rings together. I will give up my crown to step down as a royal but I want us to have a new bond. If you want to fight for what you believe is right, then I want to take a part in doing good deed and strive for a betterment of our world.”

Patton squealed and hopped up, nearly shaking the apartment with his powerful hop. He immediately dashed forward to embrace his friend, happy sounds and extensive praise leaving his mouth as he pressed their bodies together and told him about how he was proud of his insight. Logan was dragged along and nobody could deny the obvious smile that turned his usususally rather spacey or stone-cold face into a sweet mask of affection. He still insisted on holding out his hand but this time, he invited a beast and a heartless creature.

They all cheered to getting their respective share of fruit loops and everyone got milk (dairy free or regular cow’s milk). “I declare us to be companions to defy laws and rules for the sake of love and true love only!”, Roman started and held up his cup, raising it a bit for everyone to see and the others mimicked the motion.

“To love!”, the former prince invited. “To our union”, Patton added. “To relationships”, Dee offered and Virgil followed “to the revolution” with a cheeky grin. Logan blinked. “To true love”

Their cups made sounds as they all clashed together in a weird traditional way.

“Anyway, food is getting cold but this was fun, friends!”

Roman whined.

“Patton, you ruined the sceeeene”

His emphasis on the last word was obvious with how much he drew out the syllable. A loud crunching sound drew more attention to itself than Roman to his words with how much he bastardised the pronunciation of certain words in his dramatic flair.

“What? It’s fruit loops and I am hungry”, Virgil mumbled between his broken pieces of a green loop. It was sweet and artificial but he could bet he was already addicted. If he was a kid, he would bet he could see rainbows upon consuming this.

“Yes, Virgil is right. We united a fictional world so now we should assemble to eat at last”

“Thanks, Log”

They finally settled around the table, Virgil and Patton bringing the food over because he kept insisting it was the least he could do for sleeping through cooking. That was a lie. Patton probably knew it. The way Patton smiled at him with his glass green bottle eyes just let him know that he knew. He must have heard the door or seen them sneak over.

He was too scared of sounding weird if he asked how it took them this long to finish eggs but when Logan rolled his eyes and blamed Patton for starting “this ridiculous scene in the first place”, he blinked at the giant. They both knew. Virgil smiled and signed a quick thanks before returning to the table to lay it with food and others.

“Virgil, why do you call Logan ‘Log’?”

Patton glanced over Roman and Virgil for a moment as the latter sat down next to Declyn. She moved her arm under the table but did not put it on the table either. The emo simply fidgeted a bit in his seat, all limbs moving a bit as he adjusted on his chair.

“Uh, because I do?”

Weak answer. He gave it a shrug to emphasise the point. Roman arched an eyebrow at him, his features looking oddly wrinkled in a reaction he did not want to provoke. His gaze seemed distant yet so fixed on him and there was interest burning within him.

“Yes, but how did you come up with it? Is there some kind of story? It sure is a special nickname and I wish to be enlightened.”

Dee chuckled, curled up lips hidden behind a dark hand. The back of it was all the others could see instead.

“Do you feel in the right mood to enlighten the advocate of dragons?”

Virgil shook his head. It was his turn to giggle and he hid his full face in his hands. Declyn retreated her hand and looked at him, her lips still forming a smile of fine amusement. It was the mere ghost of a smile but it was warm and gentle when she observed the little wrinkles that formed around Virgil’s mouth. She could mentally see his nose scrunch up despite it being hidden behind his hands.

“Come on, Virgil, implore the idea of expanding Roman’s horizon with the precious knowledge of your nickname-giving abilities.”

Virgil giggled harder, his sleeves flailing for a bit as he adjusted his hands and rubbed them deeper into his face. His head was nothing but black and purple hair as well black jacket with single neon stripes on each side.

“I- “, he started, words breathless and useless. They were barely audible. Not to mention how torn and incomplete the one tone itself sounded already. He took a deep break and cleared his throat. One last giggle took him back and Logan brushed through his hair. “Dee, stop, I will talk just stop already”

He whined, drawing out the last ‘stop’ as he pushed his sleeves against Dee’s lap for dramatic effect to his words.

“It is just a joke about logarithms because when I met Logan, he was literally reading a book about numbers.”

Roman blinked.

“That does sound an awful lot like our teacher”

Virgil nodded, his head going up and down at an amazing speed. Dee gently squeezed his thigh and caused the other to curl up in his seat and take her hand.

“Needless to say I do not approve of the name. I did not do it back then, to clarify, but I do not approve any more of it by now, either.”

Virgil blew raspberries at Logan but because English was not exactly his best subject and he did not grow into it, he would call this action “farting at someone”. Logan gave him a look but even his glasses on his nose looked delighted.

”You are such an adult, Virgil.”

Patton let out a soft “aww” but did not do anymore but start to give everyone some food as silent indicator that they once had a plan.

Roman blinked.

“Wait, you are an adult?”

Virgil’s brows knitted together into a frown. Apprehension and the disability to understand the other sketched the features of his face into a near-neutral mask.

“Of course I am. I sign contracts and leave countries without parents, learn how to drive. I do all the adulting things. I work with Logan. You should know I am an adult.”

Words burned on his tongues. His sentence turned more and more sour with each word he spilled.

His therapist said it was bad.

Roman shrugged.

“Chillax a bit, Charlie Frown. I did not know that. I thought you lived here because you could not get your own place.”

Declyn dropped her fork, letting it crash onto her plate with a shattering sound against the tensed silence between them.

“I am moving out, like, next month. I got a place to go to. I pay bills here. What is your problem?”

Dee nudged him. He sighed in reply and Roman shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“I did not mean it like that, I-”

Logan cleared his throat as Patton reached out to brush over Roman’s arm. His whole posture was straightening out for the fight already. He was a true knight. Always ready to jump into whatever battle he could feel coming up.

“I will be out of your hair soon. I am gonna be busy working anyway so you won’t see me. Don’t worry. Soon enough it will be like I have never existed in your world at all.”

Something marvellous fell from Roman’s face. For a moment, the gleam of an aspiring prince was gone. Virgil’s words had drawn something essential out of him. He just was not sure what i was but it left him feel.. acutely incomplete.

At the same time, Patton was drawing patterns into Roman’s arm and singing melodies of truth and peace with his thoughtful hums.

“Dee, when did you meet Virgil? I never thought you two would meet, considering you are done with your studies already.”

Dee’s fingers were entangled with Virgil’s under the table and they conversed without words. Nostalgia tuned the sound of her words when she decided to speak up after cleaning her mouth with a napkin.

“We have met about one year ago. It was not quite Christmas, though.”

Patton nodded, a smile prompting her to go on as Virgil pushed his plate away and leaned into his chair instead.

Dee squeezed his hand.

“I met her when I was out. She did not want me walking around all on my own because it was late and I was alone.” He shrugged as if all of these words did not matter. His tongue whipped out vocalisations as if they were the laws every person had to abide to. “She brought me home - someone else was with us because I talked to them and they did not trust each other to be nice to me. We fell asleep together and I got her number. That was about it.”

The giant’s lips rubbed against one another. He was tasting the lies of omission in his mouth and mused the value of his deception. He had a knife like a sword and a fork like scaled of justice in his hands and his strangeness was his blindfold.

“That was quite the coincidence, was it not?”

Virgil shrugged.

“Life has always been full of weird events and unlikely happenings, has it not?”

Logan nodded.

“It sure was.”

They ended their meal on this note. Neither the sustenance nor the conversation really had been worth it.

#ts fanfic #ts logan #ts deceit #ts logic #ts fanfiction #ts patton #fanfiction #fanfic #fanficion #joey writes #i am tired #hhhhh #ts roman #ts virgil #uhhhhh #anxceit #tw food mention

[zepdeans]

season 1 character thoughts!

tl;dr im aching 

1. eva: I feel bad because I honestly struggle a bit to come up with thoughts on eva? one thing I will say- she’s so inherently kind. she really went out into a crowded party searching everywhere for chris just to find a friend for a crying stranger. I also related to a lot of eva’s story and her insecurities. being that person who gets teased about stuff that actually hurts and when you get upset, you’re told to just laugh it off or you’re a buzzkill? it makes a lot of sense that she turned to chris, who complimented her on being smart, when jonas was constantly ragging on her being dumb. this season was so cathartic for eva as well- finally letting go off her guilt and standing up for herself!! she really grows into her own confident person :-) my favourite line of this season is when eva says “I wish I could go back and do it completely differently, but I can’t” because shes finally making peace with what she’s done and moving on! you can fuck up, struggle with self-hatred and insecurity and guilt, make amends, become a better person, and keep going.

2. isak: ohhh man. do not compare s1 isak to s3 isak bc it hurts real bad scoob. like I always noticed yo s1 isak’s clothes are so cool and stylish? and I love his s3 clothes but they are definitely more sloppy dude-bro-y and it’s definitely related to what gabie said abt him completely closing himself off + actively hiding any sign of his sexuality post-s1. ALSO. you ever think abt how isak was basically caught between third-wheeling his best friend (for whom he has confusing feelings for) and his gf vs. being with elias & his teasing (that actually cuts way too deep) vs. being at home while his family falls apart?? like I know a big part of eva’s arc in s1 is being alone but isak probably only had jonas as his friend too? imo isak isn’t someone who can easily make friends or be comfortable with someone, so he probably spent a lot of time alone. and even when he was with jonas there was still a feeling of isolation caused by elias’s presence :( also I’m not defending what isak did because it was a shitty thing to do but. imagine how sick with guilt he was when he thought eva was going to transfer schools. he obviously cares a lot about her and it must suck also secretly resenting her too?? he also says he was drunk when he DM’d nissenhook but since iben found out in the same episode isak did (end vs. beginning), he would’ve sent it during the week. isak getting drunk by himself on a week night being upset enough about jonas and eva to pull that shit :((( FINALLY- isak dissing bakka media students. honey you’ve got a big storm coming

3. sana: where do I start with this one. throughout the season she comes off as harsh, cold, stubborn, bossy and rude BUT much like a lindt chocolate once u crack that hard exterior u get a beautiful soft inside. not to go all 10th grade english class on u guys but this is exemplified through her wearing literally only head-to-toe black and dark makeup all season (except when she wore those cute heart hijab pins like sana I see you!! I see your soft side it’s in plain sight!!!!!). it makes sense that this is eva’s read on sana though! but once sana’s true intentions are revealed to eva and the audience (she actually cares about vilde a lot! vilde is her friend and she’s concerned for her!) then she comes out in all white... hello symbolism! like sana is SUCH a good friend. she really is. she was so adamant about the girls being cool, sticking strictly to the plan, “eva breakup w jonas lol”, but as soon as the pepsimax girls shit on vilde? she doesn’t HESITATE throwing a drink in their faces like she’s so loyal and cares so deeply even though she hides it. even though vilde hasn’t been a good friend at all to her. I think a lot of why she comes off as rude and cold is because it’s so much easier than being vulnerable (self-projection lol). also. this ties so beautifully into sana’s season but you can really see how she’s the friend who pays attention to everyone but who no one pays attention to. like when she’s missing in ep5, the audience and girls don’t even really notice it? (okay I did but yall know what I mean). but imagine being sana, constantly struggling to make friends because it’s hard for you to show you care about people and you come off as harsh to everyone, and then seeing your new friend group hangout all without you? fuck.

4. noora: I love s1 noora sooo much. genuinely such a unique character??? I don’t even know how to describe her- she’s weird, dorky, cool, confident, funny, headstrong, outspoken, mature, mysterious, alluring? she’s just so strange and captivating. the mom friend but instead of being overprotective of her friends, encourages them to go for it!! clearly a very moral person and a feminist, but not obnoxiously or performatively so. I think the cool thing about her becoming eva’s first friend and later her best friend is the contrast between them in s1- noora must seem like an enchanting, perfect being to eva: she knows exactly who she is, has no insecurities, is incredibly sure in herself and everything noora does is for noora. she’s not concerned with what anyone thinks of her! she’s so separated from what constitutes highschool popularity but her confidence is like... magnetic? in summation peak s1 noora is when she was in the cantina with her feet just.. up on the table sjdsfhjdf. anyways I love s1 noora I wish she stayed around a little bit longer :(

other fun things: -standout actors for me this season: lisa, ina, and iman! -pchris wearing that fedora dancing like that.... this rly is the hottest most popular boy at nissen huh -isak sending the aladdin phone meme gjkjdkgg -when 5 fine frokner plays at the party my ears perk up like a dog -speaking of the party. crazy shit really does always happen on skam halloweens huh -jonas: lies to eva, tells her about how much he lied. jonas: babe u have to start trusting me -JAEVLA HORE also iben biting eva? sffjsdfdjsjhfsd?? -vilde’s retelling of eva “stealing” jonas is SO dramatic but hs really is like that -honestly there’s something about a bunch of girls eating breakfast together, not wearing makeup, not caring about looking nice for each other... this is the moment they truly became friends!!!!!!! -BUTT

thanks s1 love u long time

#rambling but make it incoherent #also i did not plan this at all but i just realized all of these r about the mains. wow my mind! #clownfest 2019 #blabbey

[fuctacles]

BakuKiriKami Week Day2

Day 2 - Hanging out / Fighting together / Bakusquad

A/N: I was supposed to have it posted earlier but I’m in a rly bad mood recently, so I don’t know if i’ll manage to do all the prompts :/ I started writing day 5 tho. Fun fact: Michael in the bathroom went on when I started writing this, thats why

Ship: Bakugou/Kaminari/Kirishima from BNHA, duh | Rating: T bc ‘fuck’ | Wordcount: 2310 because i love writing domestic scenes

Read on AO3

The Morning After

The bathroom tiles were cold under his bare feet. He wasn’t sure at which point had he lost his socks but lying in a bathtub seemed like a bigger concern anyway. His back was all sore from the hard surface and weird position he was in.

Near his feet, propped up against the bathroom wall, there was another pair of feet. He looked to the side trying to emerge from the foggy haze of his mind and maybe remember how he got there.

Next to him his buddy Sero was splayed in all the glory of his long, tangled limbs. Between them lied two empty cans of beer. He checked himself for any damage and when didn’t find any, braced himself intending to get up.

He stopped mid-movement when the doors to the bathroom opened. Something cracked unpleasantly  in his neck when he turned around in its direction.

‘Denki, idiot, I’ve been looking for you.’ Bakugou hissed, entering the bathroom. He was usually the one to drink the least but he kept his voice quiet and soft. Kaminari liked to believe it was because he was a caring friend even if he wouldn’t admit it himself. ‘You okay?’

‘Yeah’ Kaminari nodded, his voice raspy and unpleasant. He tried clearing his throat. ‘Help me get out of here though?’ He asked but Bakugou was already near him intending to do so anyway. The empty cans clattered against the hard bathtub surface, making Sero stir in his sleep, when Bakugou lifted Kaminari with no effort and put him back on his feet, a supportive hand on the small of his back.

‘Can you open the doors for me?’ he asked softly in case Denki was more hangover than he looked. He wasn’t going to leave any losers in the bathtub so after making sure his boyfriend wasn’t going to kiss the bathroom floor anytime soon he grabbed Sero to haul him up.

Kaminari felt a sudden surge of affection towards his soft spoken, reluctantly caring man. He leaned in and pecked him on the cheek. ‘Sure babe.’

Bakugou grumbled something under his breath but when he was passing by Denki holding the doors for him, he leaned in for another one. Kaminari happily skipped behind him, following him to the living room.

Their couch was unfolded into a spacious bed where Kirishima was snoring with Mina drooling on his t-shirt. Kaminari snickered at the sight while Bakugou dropped Sero next to them with all the delicacy he could muster. Then he dropped a pillow on Kirishima’s face to muffle the snoring, and grabbed Kaminari’s hand to pull him into the kitchen.

He didn’t let go when he asked ‘Coffee?’ He didn’t let go when he was grabbing mugs from the cupboard or turning on the coffee machine. When he set it on and all there was to do was wait for the coffee, he pulled him in to nuzzle into his neck with a sigh. Kaminari winded his arms around him, rubbing circles onto his back. They both were in their clothes from the night before, tired and not caring about changing or cleaning up for now. It was soft and sleepy in their little kitchen, save for the sound of coffee dripping into a pot.

‘Whaddya want for breakfast?’ Katsuki murmured into his skin, tickling his neck. Kaminari hummed in thought.

‘Fries.’

‘It’s not breakfast.’ Bakugou snapped back. Kaminari pouted although he couldn’t see it.

‘Pancakes?’                                                                                      

‘Do we even have any maple syrup left?’

‘If Kiri haven’t drank it.’ They both chuckled.

Katsuki pulled back to kiss him despite his protest. He was quick to melt into the kiss which made Katsuki smile into his mouth. They kissed lazily for a while, until the coffee machine signaled the coffee was ready. Then they pulled away with a quiet smack. Kaminari licked his lips, the motion followed by Katsuki’s gaze.

‘I need coffee’ he explained somewhat apologetic, before giving him a last quick peck and untangling from his embrace.

But Bakugou wasn’t having it. With a soft growl he pulled him back by his hips and planted one last slow kiss on his lips. Kaminari chuckled into it. He liked when Katsuki was getting reluctantly affectionate. Especially in the mornings.

Bakugou started making pancakes while Kaminari poured them both coffee. Black and sugary for Katsuki and with cream for himself. He leaned on the counter watching his boyfriend work on their breakfast knowing that if he sits down he may risk dozing off again.

The smell of caffeine slipped from beneath the kitchen doors, emerging further into their apartment, into the living room and around their friends sleeping there. Coffee was a magical thing that always managed to make their redhead boyfriend get up when they couldn’t. This time was no different; when the door opened they revealed a sleepy Kirishima whose face immediately lit up at the sight of his boyfriends. He quietly closed the door behind him, eyeing hungrily the mug in Kaminari’s hand.

‘Hi’ he murmured to him, immediately latching onto his mouth and making Kaminari let out a stifled groan. He held the mug further away so he wouldn’t spill it on them, while his other hand rested on his boyfriend’s hip. Then in a blink of an eye Kirishima was gone and so was his coffee, now clutched between redhead’s greedy hands and being hungrily gulped down.

‘Hey!’ he yelped but Kirishima hid himself on the other side of the table so he couldn’t reach and smiled at him teasingly from there. His soaked in drool t-shirt was gone, leaving his admirable pecs on display. His hair was in utter disarray, sticking up here, flat over there. Kaminari wanted him back between his arms.

‘You two behave, I don’t want them awake before I have enough pancakes for everyone.’ Bakugou growled from his place at the stove. Kirishima took it as his cue to give him some attention. He put the coffee on the table, from where Kaminari snatched it away immediately, and approached his other boyfriend from behind.

‘Good mornin', Blasty’ he murmured into the nape of his neck, looping his strong arms around his stomach, smelling him and the first batch of pancakes he was working on.

‘Mornin’’ He tore a piece of one of them and reached to his shoulder, where Kirishima was quick to catch it. Bakugou leaned into his chest.

‘So good.’ Eijirou sighed, peppering his neck and visible shoulder with little kisses. To his right Kaminari made himself another coffee. Kirishima’s coffee preference was drinking theirs so it was no use to make him his own. When Bakugou reluctantly nudged him out of the way, redhead grabbed his grenade mug to sip a bit of his black coffee. Then he stretched with a sigh, both of his boyfriend’s eyes on him, and announced he needs to shower. ‘Anyone?’ he looked at them playfully. Kaminari slapped him on the hip.

‘We have guests dum-dum.’

‘I’m just joking’ he giggled jumping out of his reach and left the kitchen. Kaminari proceeded to prepare the table and Bakugou kept adding to his pancake tower.

Their banter didn’t go unnoticed as soon after he left Mina entered the kitchen with a yawn and a soft ‘Hello’, Sero tailing after her with pained expression.

‘I smell coffee’ she commented, sniffing the air and eyeing the mug in Kaminari’s hand, who brought it closer to his chest protectively and then moved aside revealing the still half full coffee pot behind him. She cheered and raided the cupboard to find herself a mug.

Meanwhile Sero slumped on a chair almost putting his head in one of the plates. ‘Do you guys have yerba?’

‘Yeah, I’ll make you some just get your damn hair out of my plate.’ Katsuki appeared above him, swatting his head away from the table. He put down a plate full of pancakes. ‘Eat up fuckers and get outta my house.’

‘Me too?’ Kaminari quirked his eyebrow while Mina sat down with her coffee and grabbed a plate to load it with pancakes.

‘It’s your house too, moron.’

‘We’re not going anywhere.’ Mina piped up after swallowing a bite of syrup covered pancakes. (Turned out Kirishima drank only half of the bottle.) ‘We gotta burn the pancake calories in the Just Dance dance off.’

‘Just don’t eat the pancakes you ungrateful fuck.’ Bakugou growled, putting a yerba mate gourd in front of Sero. He thanked him, and took a long sip.

‘Katsuki, your pancakes are too good, we both know this.’ Ashido pointed an accusatory fork at him.

‘It’s just a ploy to make you fat and slow you down.’ Bakugou shrugged.

‘Just take the fucking compliment, dude!’

‘Well, thank you for being so easy to please!’

‘Ugh!’ She threw her hands in the air, while the other two listening to them snickered. Kaminari finally sat down between his friends. That’s when Kirishima decided to join them, hair damp, sweatpants and a tank top thrown on.

‘Did I miss something?’ He asked, settling on the last vacant seat.

‘Just alien face not wanting to admit she wants to crush us in her stupid game.’

‘Babe. Like you’re one to talk.’

‘You sound like you don’t want to eat.’ Bakugou looked at him threateningly. Kirishima put up his hands in defeat then motioned to zip his lips shut.

When Sero was halfway through his yerba he mused out loud. ‘We can’t just go jumping right after breakfast.’

‘What do u suggest?’ Kaminari piped up, hopeful. He wasn’t looking forward to it neither. Especially that Bakugou was getting too intense every time they played Just Dance with Mina. Kaminari was quite good at it himself, while Bakugou always got frustrated he couldn’t beat the game through sheer willpower itself.

‘We could watch a movie?’

Everyone at the table groaned. From their movie watching experience they knew it took at least half an hour to settle on a movie everyone would want to watch.

Bakugou turned off the stove, put the last pancakes on the plate, and motioned Kirishima to make room on his lap.

‘We can just roll a fucking dice, you know.’ He suggested, starting on Kirishima’s half eaten pancake while the redhead leaned on his back, arms around his middle.

‘That’s… actually a good idea?’ Kaminari grinned from in front of them, nudging one of his boyfriend’s legs with his foot. He didn’t know which one. ‘Lemme go grab a dice.’ He announced and left the kitchen to go rummage through their board game boxes.

‘Since when are you such a good mediator, Baku?’ Sero tilted his head, his hair now pulled back in a short ponytail with a hair band borrowed from Kirishima.

‘Since I started dating two dumbasses I guess.’ Bakugou shrugged, feeding Kirishima his own pancake above his arm. It didn’t look comfortable, but it worked.

‘Got it!’ Kaminari came back victorious with a yellow dice.

They took their turns rolling, Sero groaning when he got a one while everyone else let out a sigh of relief. Last time he choose a movie they ended up watching some foreign indie horror about creepy bunny Jesus. Kirishima rolled a five and when nobody beat it he whooped in victory.

‘So, what are we watching?’ Nudged him Mina. Nobody really minded his victory, because Kirishima’s movie taste was more or less like him. Loveable by everyone. He hummed in thought.

‘Uh, would you rather watch a gay movie or an old British comedy?’

‘That’s a tough one.’ Bakugou rolled his eyes.

‘The British one.’

‘Everyone who is against Sero’s choice hand up.’

Kirishima raised Bakugou’s hand for good measure, even though the gay movie would win anyway.

‘Alex Strangelove it is!’ Kirishima cheered. ‘Last time I tried to watch it somebody kept distracting me.’ He narrowed his eyes at said someone. Kaminari shrugged with an innocent smile.

‘Sorry I’m so distracting honey.’

‘Guys don’t be gross.’ Mina made a face of disgust, badly hiding her fond smile.

‘You’re gross.’ Bakugou retorted stuffing his face with pancakes.

‘Yes, yes, now let me go I’m gonna turn on Netflix, maybe check for some chips.’ Kirishima patted his boyfriend’s hips but he didn’t budge.

‘No. You’re comfy.’

‘You can sit on my lap?’ Kaminari offered.

‘You’re bony, no thanks.’ Bakugou squinted at the idea.

‘…I can sit on your lap?’ He tried again. Bakugou was silent for a couple of seconds. Sero was biting back a laugh.

‘You can go, Ei.’

Eijirou laughed, pecking him on the cheek and letting him go. Then he grabbed one of the few pancakes left and went to the living room, from where they heard the signature Netflix sound. Meanwhile Kaminari skipped around the table to settle on Bakugou’s lap with a sigh, leaning onto his broad chest. Bakugou let him for a while, and then nudged him on the side.

‘Turn around I want to eat.’

Kaminari did as he was told, looping his arm around his boyfriend’s neck and leaning on his shoulder, so he could finish his breakfast. He motioned Ashido to hand him his mug and he sipped the remaining coffee.

Ashido and Sero gathered the dishes and started cleaning them up together, Kaminari navigating them through the drawers and cupboards when they didn’t know where to find something or where to put something back. Then Sero found some popcorn and went on to prepare a big bowl of it.

‘Are we watching on the couch or on the floor?’ Kirishima yelled from the living room. The four looked at each other.

‘Floor.’

‘Floor.’

‘Yeah.’

‘I’m taking the couch, fuck you.’

‘You’ll miss on the cuddles, you know.’ Reminded him Kaminari, pinching Katsuki’s cheek. Mina took their empty dishes to finish cleaning up. Bakugou growled, looping his arms around him.

‘Fine.’

‘Floor!’ Kaminari yelled back.

#bkkweek #bkkweek2k18 #bakukirikami #bakukirikami fanfic #bakukirikami ff #fanfic #bnha #bnha ff #ff #bakukirikamiweek #bakusquad #bkkweekday2 #bsstories #kirishima #bakugou #kaminari #sero #mina #fluff

[hrina]

Model Material {Harry Styles Smut}

PAIRING: Harry/Y/N RATING: R  WORD COUNT: 4500+ REQUESTED: nooo haha i’ve just been wanting to dabble in writing abt harry!

okayyyy so i’m super nervous abt posting this bc i used to write abt harry a long time ago and now i rly wanna get back into it!!! i rly truly hope u guys like it. if u do, feedback is definitely welcome! it only takes a second and it means a lot to me 💖

~*~

“Just let me see them now!”

“Nope.”

“Please? I’ll give you a week’s worth of blowjobs.”

“As tempting as that sounds, I’m gonna hold out on this one, love.”

“Harold!”

“Ooh, ‘Harold’; we’re goin’ by full names now, yeah? Am I in trouble?”

“You’re about to be,” you pouted, rolling onto your back and staring pointedly up at the ceiling. Harry chuckled softly, scooting closer to you on the bed. He reached out, his long fingers brushing against your left cheek in a pathetic attempt to sway you. You made an indignant noise of protest, twisting your head to the side and squeezing your eyes shut.

“Don’t be like that,” Harry said, his shoulders slumping; his right arm fell limply against your chest. You gasped when his palm landed squarely on your left breast, and he grinned mischievously.

Fine. You could play dirty too.

“Please?” you tried one last time, rolling over again and cuddling up to him. You burrowed your head into the crook of his neck, trailing the tip of your nose along one of the prominent veins that ran up his throat. Harry’s jugular jumped as he swallowed heavily, and you smiled to yourself.

“Please, Daddy?”

He stiffened.

“You fuckin’—,” he was on top of you in a matter of seconds. You laughed, staring up at him. His jaw was tense, lips set into a firm line, nostrils flaring and muscles rigid as he pinned your wrists above your head. His true emotions were only revealed through his eyes—weak, pleading, desperate for you to stop before he cracked.

“’S not fair, love,” your boyfriend croaked, his voice hoarse. Your eyes widened innocently.

“What’s not fair, Daddy?”

Harry shook his head, inhaling deeply. “I’m done. Goodnight.”

“What?” you broke character, watching incredulously as he rolled off of you. Your chest was heaving in anticipation, ready for him to take control, but he just shook his head once more before settling down onto the other side of the bed, as far away from you as possible. You watched his back muscles ripple beneath the light blue fabric of his shirt, your lips parting in surprise.

“We’re not doing this.” His voice was muffled as he spoke into his pillow, still facing away from you, “You’re not gonna just whip that out and convince me.”

“Harry,” you were begging now, but Harry made a warning noise low in his throat, and you clamped your mouth shut. You let out a heavy sigh, hoping to convey how disappointed you were, but your boyfriend didn’t respond. After that, you gave up for the night, turning around and hugging your pillow close to your chest. A long moment of silence followed.

“I love you,” Harry said. You rolled your eyes.

“If you love me so much, why aren’t you over here spooning me?”

“I’m not stupid, little girl. I know that ‘spooning’ isn’t all we’d be doing.”

You groaned defeatedly, shifting slightly so that your cold feet rubbed up against the burning skin of your boyfriend’s calf; Harry yelped. You smiled smugly and clutched the pillow a bit tighter against your torso, settling into a comfortable position for the night (as comfortable as you could be without Harry’s arms wrapped around you). You released a fleeting sigh.

“I love you too, I guess.”

Harry’s faint chuckles reached your ears. “Know you do.”

~*~

You set your toothbrush down, spitting into the sink one last time and turning the tap. Immediately, the rush of water ceased, and everything was silent. You padded out of your bathroom, your brow creasing when you saw that your boyfriend was missing from the queen-sized bed in the middle of your bedroom. You scanned the room, but Harry was nowhere to be found.

“Harry?” you called out, your eyebrows knitting together.

There was no reply, so you tried again, a little louder. “Harry?”

A muffled reply floated through the air, and you turned towards the open door of your bedroom. Tilting your head to the side in confusion, you padded across the room and entered the hallway, walking towards the flight of stairs—the sound of shuffling and other voices became more pronounced.

The television was on, though the volume was extremely low. You bit your lip once you descended the last step. You peered into the living room, your eyes landing on the back of Harry’s head, a dark silhouette against the screen. All the lights were closed, and the room was bathed in a green glow as he watched the baseball game, seemingly completely enraptured.

“Aren’t you coming to bed?” you asked softly. Harry shook his head.

“What’s going on?” you said, your lips turning down into a slight frown.

“’M sleeping on the couch tonight,” Harry replied, his voice low and scratchy. You balked, mouth popping open in surprise.

“I—what?” you said, keeping your voice low, “Why? Did I do something?”

At that, Harry turned around, his eyes wide. When he saw your face, he let out a small sigh, running his right hand through his short hair and motioning for you to come closer. You obeyed, circling around the couch so that you could face each other. Harry held out his hand to you, and you took it hesitantly. In an instant, he had you pulled down and planted in his lap, a shocked sound bubbling up from your throat.

“What are you doing?” you asked, peering up at him from under your eyelashes. Harry smiled softly, one of his abnormally large hands coming up to cup the back of your neck. You shivered when you felt the cool metal of his rings against your skin. He leaned in, pressing a hard, bruising kiss to your lips; you gasped at the contact.

“I’m sorry it’s come to this, pet,” he murmured, pulling back and pressing your foreheads together. You shuddered—he only ever used that term when he was especially endeared, or irreparably angry. You had no idea which circumstance this fell under, and it made you uneasy.

“Did I do something?” you repeated your earlier question, breathless from the kiss.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “No. But I might.”

“Harry, what the hell—?” you began, but he leaned in, kissing you again. A reedy whimper echoed in your throat, and your hands flew up to his chest, gripping the collar of his shirt in tight fistfuls. Harry seemed to be pouring every ounce of himself into the kiss, his jaw moving as he coaxed your mouth open, sliding his tongue inside.

“Wait,” you gasped, pulling back and setting a firm palm on his chest to keep him from chasing after you. “What? I’m so—what the fuck?”

Harry laughed, covering his mouth with his hand to keep from disturbing the quiet atmosphere. Your forehead creased as you stared at him, utterly lost. If you hadn’t done anything, then what was he talking about? What the hell was happening?

“Every night for the past week,” Harry began, his voice low, “You’ve tried to get me to show you the pictures. ‘M gonna crack sooner or later, so I’m just…trying to avoid it, that’s all.”

You blinked.

And then you smacked his arm. Hard.

“Ow!” Harry yelped, and the tranquility of the moment was gone.

“What the damn hell?” you said loudly, scowling. “You had me really worried for a second!”

“This is a worrisome situation!” Harry protested, but you could hear the laugh in his voice. You narrowed your eyes at him, balling your hands up into fists and crossing your arms over your chest. Harry tried to mirror your expression but eventually, the humour of the affair overtook him, and he grinned teasingly at you. Your frown only deepened, and he made a cooing sound, his right hand cupping your cheek and rubbing at the corner of your lips.

“Don’t be like that,” he said, “Smile for me, pet.”

You had to repress a shiver. His voice was low and scratchy, the kind of tone he only ever used when he had your body underneath him, your legs crammed up against your chest and your hands clawing pathetically at his back.

“No,” you grumbled, looking away. “So, you’re refusing to sleep with me because you’re afraid I’m going to pester you? That’s what this is all about?”

“What kind of ‘sleep with’ are you referring to here? ‘Cause, I mean—I’m more than willing to fu—”

“Actual sleeping, Harry,” you snapped, and Harry finally seemed to realize that you were annoyed. The smile melted from his face, and his bright eyes clouded over with concern. He stroked along your cheek, his left hand rubbing up and down your thigh comfortingly. You swallowed, avoiding his gaze.

“Why are you so upset over this?” he asked softly. You stared down at his chest, your fingers tapping out an irregular sequence on his strong pectorals. Under different circumstances, he would’ve teased you for the lack of rhythm, but he seemed to know better than to do so right now.

“Is it annoying?” you mumbled. “When I ask?”

Harry absorbed your words, and then he cocked his head to the side. “What? No, ‘course not, pet. It’s…really fuckin’ nice, if I’m being honest. I’m glad that you’re so eager.”

He chuckled, and despite your insecurities, you smiled softly. You exhaled, uncrossing your arms and running your left hand through your hair. Harry angled his body forward, puckering his lips and pressing a tender kiss to the tip of your nose. He sighed, burying his face into the crook of your neck and biting gently. You tapped his chest, a sharp gasp leaving your lips, and he smirked.

“How am I—?” you broke off, “How am I going to sleep without you spooning me?”

Your boyfriend chuckled, his tongue poking out a licking a fat stripe up the column of your neck. You yelped, recoiling and wiping at the wet spot on your skin. Fuelled by this distraction, Harry’s left hand abandoned your thigh, moving inward and cupping skillfully over the crotch of your nightwear.

Immediately, your protests died on your tongue. Harry snickered, leaning in and pressing a hot, lingering kiss to the right side of your jaw.

“How ’bout you ride my thigh? That should make you real sleepy, yeah?”

“I don’t think—,” you tried, but even you knew that your protests had no real sincerity behind them. Harry smiled, taking your earlobe between his straight, pearly teeth, and biting gently. You closed your eyes, tipping your head back and providing him with more space to torture you and leave you breathless.

“You wanna cum, love? Wanna show me how you would ride my cock?”

“Yes,” you squeaked out—he’d started rubbing against you methodically, his thumb scoping around for your clit, eager for provocation. You could feel his grin as he pressed his lips to your cheek.

“Go on then. Use my thigh. Tire yourself out for me, pet.”

~*~

“Harry!” you cried as you flew down the staircase. You held onto the banister tightly with your right hand, your left clutching a rolled-up booklet and holding it close to your chest. From the kitchen, you could hear Harry’s laughter, a sure sign that you were meant to discover the magazine underneath your pillow.

“Found it, did you?” His words were laced with humour, and he pushed himself off from where he was leaning against the counter. He turned, only to let out a startled groan when you catapulted yourself into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and clinging unforgivingly to his torso.

“And you liked it too, I guess,” he chuckled, his hands flying down to grip your ass. You peppered kisses along the column of his neck as he set you down onto the marble countertop; you squeaked when the cold surface met the underside of your thighs. Harry grinned, playing with the hem of your shorts and pulling away, despite your whiny protests.

“What do you think?” he asked, looking at you with inquisitive eyes. It seemed like he wanted a real answer, a comment on the camera angle, or the outfits, or the posing. You felt bad that you were unable to offer such an eloquent response just yet.

“You look so good,” you whimpered, grabbing fistfuls of his white t-shirt and searching for something else to say. “So…so…”

“Good?” Harry supplied, smirking. You didn’t bother reprimanding him, settling only for another helpless whimper and a vigorous nod. You tightened your hold on the material of his shirt, glancing at the magazine laying forgotten on the counter. He just looked so good.

“You’ve said that already, love,” Harry snickered, and you realized that you’d voiced your thoughts. You bit your lip, winding your legs around his hips loosely and pulling him closer to you. His smile faltered, eyelids drooping slightly as he recognized the look on your face—your parted lips, dilated pupils, flared nostrils as you sucked in deep breaths.

“Wow,” he said, and this time his voice was void of all mockery. “You really liked those pictures, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” you whispered, closing your eyes when you felt his hand land on your thigh, his thumb rubbing up against the soft skin on the inside of your leg. You inhaled sharply when he began moving upwards, having memorized your body and every trick that would leave you wrecked.

“Didn’t know you were so easy for it, pet,” Harry murmured, a hint of awe lacing each syllable. His hand continued travelling up your thigh, but he had slowed his pace significantly. You pressed your lips together—he was only trying to get a rise out of you, and you weren’t going to grant his wish that quickly.

“Are you wet?”

Your eyes snapped open, a faint gasp leaving your lips. Even after all this time, you didn’t think you’d ever get used to Harry’s mouth and the vulgar things that left his lips. It was him—he was fantastic at getting you riled up, at making you soak your panties using only his words. If any other man attempted such a feat, he would pale in comparison. Harry was Harry, and that was why you were currently sat here, your chest heaving and your toes curling as experienced fingers snaked up your thigh.

You realized that Harry was still waiting for an answer. Looking up, you met his eyes—there was only a thin ring of green surrounding his pupils. His lips were pursed, and he was watching you attentively. You lowered your gaze, granting him a whispered and embarrassed yes.

“Can I see?” Harry asked gruffly, “Will you let me have a peek, love?”

“M—more—,” you wheezed suddenly as Harry’s hand finally reached where you needed him most. He had abandoned his gentle actions, opting instead to grind his palm against the crotch of your shorts. You lurched forward as though you’d been punched, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly.

“What was that?” Harry said.

You squeezed your eyes shut, inhaling deeply before blurting out, “More. You—you can have more, Harry, you can have more.”

You squeaked when Harry dipped his fingers between the waistband of your shorts. He let out a surprised noise, the sound quickly melting into a groan when he realized that you weren’t wearing any panties. You leaned against him, muffling your whimpers against his left shoulder as he buried his face into the crown of your head and pressed sporadic kisses into your hair.

“So, so good to me,” he murmured. “You’re so good t’me, love.”

“Harry,” you whined, squeezing your eyes shut.

His body rumbled with a chuckle. “I know, pet. ‘M coming.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the only sound that came out was a breathless stutter as Harry found your clit, establishing an unforgiving pace. You shuddered, tingly bolts of pleasure running through your veins as he rubbed you. Harry pressed his mouth to your temple, and you gasped when you felt his index finger swipe down your folds, circling your entrance and barely dipping inside.

“Gonna let me have it?” he asked, his lips moving against your skin. “Gonna let me take what’s mine, love?”

“Yes,” you spoke unabashedly, nodding and pressing a kiss to his left collarbone. “Take it, please take it.”

“Yeah?” Harry snickered, and you couldn’t even force yourself to be embarrassed. This had been what you wanted since you’d discovered that magazine beneath your pillow, since you’d flicked through the pages and stared at each magnificent photo with wide eyes and clenched thighs. You don’t know what had come over you—maybe it had been the satisfaction of finally being able to see what he’d been keeping from you. Maybe it had been the pent-up sexual frustration you’d been harbouring for the past few days. Or maybe it had been the pride swirling in your chest, the smile against which you’d fought as you flipped through the issue and studied each page.

“Please,” you breathed, and Harry nodded.

You pressed kisses along his neck, as he slowly slid the first finger into you. “Fuck,” he wheezed, “So tight, pet. ‘S not even my dick, but you’re...squeezing me.”

At the mention of his cock, you moaned loudly. Harry grinned, pulling back and gripping your chin with his left hand, forcing you to look up at him while his index finger pumped into you steadily. He tilted his head to the side and ran his tongue along his pink upper lip, his eyes watching you intently.

“Want that, yeah? Want my cock in your cunt?”

You moaned again, the sound prompted by both his words and the addition of another finger inside of you, stretching you open as he scissored his digits languidly. Your nails dug into his shoulders through the cotton of his t-shirt, leaving tiny crescents in their wake.

“Dont worry,” Harry told you, “I’m gonna give it to you. Haven’t been treating my girl right lately, have I?”

“S-so good,” you choked out. “You treat me—oh—so good—Harry!”

“Yeah?” he challenged, his brows creasing. “How long’s it been since I last fucked you? Too fuckin’ long, if you ask me. Dunno how I survived without it.”

“Then fuck me,” you pleaded, a mewl tumbling from your lips. Your hips began gyrating, lifting to get his fingers deeper. Harry’s thumb continued to rub relentlessly against your clit, making you shudder as bolts of electricity danced up your spine. You tried to lean forward against him once more, but he stopped you.

“Wanna see your face when you cum, love.”

Your bottom lip quivered, and you shook your head. “Don’t—don’t wanna cum like this. Not yet.”

“No?” Harry cocked an eyebrow. “How do you wanna cum, then? Tell me.”

You pursed your lips, inhaling deeply as he curled his fingers inside of you. He connected with that special spot, and your eyebrows flew up, an abrupt shout leaving you. Harry grinned, and you panted, gripping his biceps tightly and trying to steady your breathing. He was such a tease.

“You gotta tell me, love,” Harry mused, “How am I supposed to know what you want if you don’t speak up?”

“You’re such a—,” you growled.

“Think that’s wise, pet? I am in control of your orgasm, y’know.”

You pouted, slumping backwards. You twitched when Harry repeated his previous action, the pads of his fingers pressing firmly against a spot inside of you that had you momentarily seeing white. Your right hand left his bicep, shooting down and gripping the edge of the counter—you were desperate, needing something solid to keep you from losing your mind and succumbing to the hot feeling that pooled in the pit of your stomach.

“I want—,” you inhaled shakily, “I want you to fuck me. P-please.”

You hated how your voice faltered on the last word, but it seemed to be enough for Harry. He smirked, retracting his fingers from your slick passage and giving your clit a light tap. You whimpered, and his smirk elongated into a grin, stretching the corners of his lips and presenting his dimple to you.

“Asked so nicely, love. ‘M gonna fuck you, don’t worry.”

With those words, he gripped the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down your hips. You lifted your bottom half, hoping to facilitate his movements, and within a few moments, you were kicking the offending material away. Harry reached for his own bottoms, yanking the elastic of his sweatpants down. You froze, eyeing the way his cock slapped up against his covered stomach—so he hadn’t been wearing underwear either.

“I want it,” you whimpered, reaching for him. It was suddenly like you couldn’t breathe, the desperation making you feel incomplete without him inside, filling you up.

Harry swore under his breath, gripping his cock as he stepped closer to you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, guiding him down to you and kissing him for the first time that night. He squeezed your hips appreciatively, his lips soft and plush against your own. You sighed happily when his tongue swiped against your mouth, silently requesting permission. You parted your lips, allowing him entry for only a moment before you were pulling back, fingers gripping the collar of his shirt.

“Get this off,” you begged.

Harry reached for the hem, his fingers brushing yours as he did so. You leaned back as he hauled the material over his head, balling it up and tossing it to the side. Your hands trailed down to rest on his chest, over the two swallows that had been permanently inked into his skin. You scratched at the design lightly, and Harry leaned forward, pressing another short yet passionate kiss to your lips.

“I’ve not got a rubber on me,” he told you.

You shook your head, “Don’t need it. Please, just—”

“Okay, okay,” Harry soothed you before you could begin pleading with him again. He pressed his forehead to yours, your noses brushing gently.

“Need to feel you,” he grunted, and you thought you sensed a hint of hysteria in his voice. He reached down, aligning his cock with your opening and pushing inside at a painfully slow pace. You threw your head back at the sensation of him filling you to the brim, your walls stretching around him and pulsing to accommodate the intrusion.

“F-fuck,” Harry breathed, stilling once he was fully sheathed within you. You shifted, moving so that you could wrap your legs around him, pulling him deeper inside of you. You both groaned at the alteration, Harry pressing his face into your hair and you kissing his jugular, nuzzling against him as you adjusted to having him inside of you for the first time in a few days.

“M-move,” you mumbled after a few long moments. Now that you were comfortable, the anguished feeling was back, demanding that he make you feel it. You wanted to be sore.

Harry obeyed, placing his hands on your hips and slowly pulling back. You exhaled, blinking rapidly as he did so, your walls squeezing down on nothing. He continued until the head of his cock was the only part of him still hidden within you. You looked up at him with parted lips, but before you could speak, he was driving back into you, rocking your body backwards and making you cry out.

“My God!” you squeaked. Harry inhaled sharply, slowly grinding his hips inside of you. You looped your arms around his neck, your fingers disappearing into his short, curly hair. You pressed your lips against his shoulder, trying to keep in any sounds that were crawling up your throat.

“Fucking good,” Harry was mumbling fiercely into your ear. “You feel…so fuckin’ good, pet. Got—,” he broke off into a gasp, “—got real tight for a second there.”

“C-can,” you stammered, squeezing your eyes shut, “I can feel you, Harry, I can feel you.”

“’S kind of the point, love,” Harry choked out a laugh, only to cut himself off with a heaving breath a moment later. You ran your fingers through his hair, reflexively grabbing a fistful and yanking when he adjusted your position. He gripped your thighs, hands travelling down to the crook of your knees and pulling them higher up on his waist. You mewled when he pumped back inside, immediately hitting that same spot that his fingers had teased not long ago.

“Is it good?” you whispered, “Is it good for you?”

Harry let out a breathless laugh. “It’s—fuck—it’s perfect, love. You’re perfect. Squeezing me so well, I’m gonna cum soon.”

“Then cum,” you said, “I wanna feel it.”

Harry shook his head. “Not before you. You know that.”

“Please,” you whimpered, “Harry, please. Wanna—wanna feel it inside of me. I wanna—”

You broke off, pursing your lips. Harry seemed to sense that you were holding back, because he pulled away, coaxing you to look at him. “What is it, love? Tell me.”

You looked down at his chest, not wanting to meet his eyes. The words seemed so foreign and taboo on your tongue, but they left a sweet taste that you craved. You could only imagine Harry’s reaction, and it was something you were dying to witness. You blinked, pressing a kiss to his chin before meeting his gaze.

“I wanna feel it drip out of me.”

For a moment, the only sounds that could be heard were the slapping of skin and the shakiness of breaths. Harry stared at you, processing your words, his green eyes wide with shock. And then—

“Oh, fuck!”

He slumped against you, his palms smacking against the counter to keep himself standing. You watched in awe as his eyes closed, eyebrows lifting in pure euphoria. His nose twitched, lips parting perfectly. It was then that you felt the first twitch of his cock, the first spurt of come painting your walls. Harry rode out his high, the veins in his neck pulsing and his lips moulding around soundless curses. He leaned into you, and you kissed his cheeks, his forehead, his nose.

“I—,” his voice was thick, eyes remaining closed as he fought to catch his breath, “I fuckin’…love you.”

“I love you,” you whispered, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. His eyes fluttered open slowly, and he blinked languidly, as though he was trying to regain his bearings. When he saw you, something flashed in his irises, and he shakily pushed himself up, swallowing heavily.

“You gotta cum,” he told you. You opened your mouth to protest, but then his thumb was back on your clit, and the tight knot in your stomach exploded.

You shuddered, your toes curling and your body twitching as pleasure splintered through you. You tipped your head back, ankles locking together behind Harry as your vision blurred over and your fingers dug into his biceps. Harry pressed himself against you, murmurs of good girl, my good girl and doing so well for me, pet reaching your ears.

“You—,” you began, blinking slowly after a few quiet moments, “—you look so good.”

~*~

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#okay wow im nervous abt this!!! i hope it doesn't flop bc i rly wanna write more of harry #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #one direction smut #one direction imagine #harry smut #harry imagine #idk who to tag tbh!!! #askyofdiamonds #permanentcross #starrprincess #yikes i srsly dunno who else oh well!! #harry writing

[4jimin]

Let The Walls Break Down | 3

CHAPTER III: Restart | crossposted on ao3 Summary:  I look at you, and I'm so fucked up, because I know it's love. A/N:  hello, cutie pies~ so this one has taken a while, and i'm rly sorry for those who were waiting, it's just that... things in my life are rly crazy right now, so i can't find the inspiration to write :/ applying to an university can be rly hard i hate growing up :( anywayyy, this one is just rly fluffy and cute – unfortunately for the pain lovers hahahah – but i rly hope everyone enjoys it bc let's be honest, we all need a little of lovey dovey in our life, right? for everyone who is keeping up with me, leaving kudos and commenting on the chapters, i'm rly so so thankful and i truly love you for that, i hope i don't let you down and that you enjoy <3 i have to apologize in advance because this one is shorter than the others, but!!! i have a good reason: i just couldnt bring myself to mix all this cuteness with the sexual tension that's yet to come akhsdkhf i'm sorry but i hope you don't give up on me for that lmao okay, i'll stop talking, thank you again, and as always feedback is much appreciated <3 p.s: i forgot to say before but this whole thing is developing before inu era, in the beginning of 2015, just to make things clearer Length: 5,4k words

The apartment was freezing. Violent gusts of a cold wind were entering the room through the open windows, startling Taehyung. He woke up alarmed and hurried to close them, feeling all of his body hairs bristling. His bare feet touching the gelid ground, caused shivers through his entire body. He rubbed his swollen eyes trying to understand what had happened, still in a small sleepy trance. As his thoughts settled, Taehyung's eyes landed on Jimin's bed. Oh... He's back... After a long yawn, he found his way back to his bed in the darkness and checked the time on his phone. 2:48 A.M. A weary sigh escaped his lips as he remembered he had to be up by five. Taehyung snuggled himself between his blankets again, when something on Jimin's bed caught his attention. Jiminie, you're not that big... Wait... What– Aish, seriously? A smile formed on his lips. He turned around to the wall side and fell asleep thinking of ways to mock his two best friends – sleeping in the bed by the side of his own – on the next day.

••••

Jimin felt a familiar, yet, strange warmth next to him. He was sleeping alone for the past month, so the sensation of another body glued to his caused him a slight surprise. Tae tae? But those arms around his waist did not belong to Taehyung. Jimin's breath slowly got caught up in his throat, while he brushed his fingers through the arm's veins of the person hugging his waist and assimilated who they belonged to. He took the tender touch down to Jungkook's fingers and delicately held his hand. Jimin closed his eyes remembering all the moments from last night and allowed himself to sigh relieved. It wasn't like all of his problems had suddenly disappeared, but the constant weight tiring his shoulders – which followed him day and night in the last month – wasn't there anymore. Jungkook's breath was rhythmically tickling his neck, making him feel butterflies on his belly. Jimin pretended not to notice. He didn't want to fall in that trap again. The room was dark and cold, thanks to the sun's absence outside. In the most delicate way Jimin managed, he got rid of Jungkook's hug and got out of bed, being successful at the attempt of not waking him up. For a moment, he lost himself observing the younger boy calmly breath, his face tender and in peace. Jimin smiled. His eyes traveled through the traces of Jungkook's face – much more mature than the first time Jimin saw him –, and he felt something awkward on his chest. Jungkook was growing up fast. His childish characteristics were slowly disappearing and being replaced by puberty. Jimin didn't know how that made him feel. He was pride of being able to witness his beloved doengsang getting mature, but he was also emotional by thinking that Jungkook wasn't going to be Bangtan's baby anymore. He wasn't going to be anyone's baby anymore. Not even his. He was slowly becoming an adult. Aish, what am I? A mother? Jimin got rid of his reveries at the same time a high and irritating noise filled the whole place. He followed the sound till Taehyung's bed and turned off the screaming alarm on his phone. It was five in the morning. Jimin streched his spine thinking about their schedule for that day. Two interviews, one photoshoot and the recording of some parts of their new MV. "Jiminie?" Taehyung's muffled voice reached his ears, "What time is it?" He had his face buried in a pillow. Jimin almost laughed. Instead, he crouched down by his best friend's side and slighly messed his hair, answering in a low tone to not wake the others, "Time to get up, you lazy ass." Taehyung lifted his head up just enough for only his swollen eyes to be seen. "Just more five minutes?", his voice was deep and rough, but yet, he still managed to sound like a five year old boy. Jimin caressed his hair before getting up while saying "fine, fine" in a false defeated tone. He left the bedroom looking for his own phone – which was found resting on the kitchen's balcony. Yoongi was sitting in one of the chairs with a mug and a plate full of toasts covered in jelly. "Good morning, hyung." Jimin greeted him, heading to the fridge's direction. "Hey." he heard Yoongi saying, while he looked for the milk, "What time did you come back yesterday? We went to sleep and you two hadn't arrived yet." Jimin was thinking of an answer, when Yoongi added laughing: "What type of running did you two go for?" Jimin blushed. "We got lost by the way." he lied. Kind of. Yoongi took the chance for a – shitty – metaphor. "I hope you've found it again." Jimin laughed softly. "What is this? Namjoon-hyung is namjoonizing you, be careful." Yoongi looked pretty damn offended and pretended to feel chills. "If I wasn't clear enough, I was being sarcastic, okay?" he tried to sound indifferent, but a smile resided on his lips, "You look better." "Huh?" Jimin finished filling his bowl with milk and went to the balcony, sitting in front of Yoongi, "You think?" "Yeah." he bit his toast and chewed it in silence observing Jimin eat his chocolate cereal. Jimin was about to ask him to stop looking at him in that embarrassing way, when the whole apartment heard Hoseok's voice giving good morning to... Well, everyone. Just to make it clear: At once. "Good morning, sunshines!!!!" he screamed from his bedroom and Jimin felt thankful he wasn't there anymore. A minute later, he came out carrying both Jungkook and Taehyung out with a huge and bright smile on his face. How could someone be like that at five in the morning? Jung Hoseok wasn't a normal human being, Jimin had just declared official. It wasn't possible to say the same about the other two, that looked more like two walking zombies than actual sleepy human beings. Jimin's heart skipped a bit by glancing Jungkook awake. He stuffed more cereal in his mouth and looked away, even though the younger was walking with closed eyes. "Are they sleeping for real? You're really the worst... With this innocent smile... Waking them up in the worst possible way... Tsc, tsc." Yoongi pretented to scold Hoseok, that seemed truly offended. "What are you saying? I woke them up with lots and lots of love and that's why they're here. Right, boys?" "I asked you five more minutes, hyung." Taehyung whined by his side. Well, in Hoseok's defense, the other five minutes he asked Jimin had already passed. "But you jumped on me, like this,” he exemplified throwing all of his weight on Hoseok, "without even listening to me... You're heavy... I'm sleepy..." he continued to complain, now with his eyes closed and walking till the sofa. Jimin chuckled. There he goes again... Taehyung snuggled up on the couch, ready to sleep again. Jungkook, on the other hand, seemed to be really sleeping standing. Jimin gathered enough courage to look at him, but the boy's head was hanging to his chest and for a moment he looked to get unbalanced, which startled him and made his eyes go wide. Jimin searched for more cereal to fill his mouth, wanting a subject of distraction, but the bowl was empty. He sighed, not knowing what to do. Jungkook sat by his side a moment later, making his whole body freeze. How should I act? How does he expect me to act? What do I do, what do I do? "Morn–" He started shyly, but Jungkook was fast in dropping his asleep head on the table. He was snoring.

••••

Okay, so maybe things were a bit awkward. They were back talking and Jungkook was even giving a try at light teasing Jimin with subtle jokes and touchs, but things were a little different when they were left all alone. At the first time, Jimin thought they were only tired – so that was the reason for the uncomfortable silence – and that he was the only one feeling odd in that atmosphere. But then, at the second time, Jimin tried to initiate a conversation. An easy conversation, such as “hey, have you got your makeup done?”, but Jungkook weirdly answered a “mhmm, da... yes?” and ran out of the room at the very same second. So no, he was not the only one feeling odd. And he soon found out the reason why: the two of them were shamelessly pretending nothing happened at all. All the drama of the other night, the tears shed, the muffled apologies between the hugs and the actual backhug to sleep? Nah. They were totally ignoring the whole reason of why they were back talking again and they were simply talking again. And here it was why it was odd: all of this, should have led to getting the both of them closer (what the actual fuck, Jungkook said I love you to Jimin out loud), but thanks to their dumbness, they were acting all shy and embarrassed, which was getting Jimin frustrated. For real, they didn’t go through all that shitty moments to end up here blushing and running away from each other. “Jungkook is not talking with me.” he pouted. “Hah? What do you mean? I saw you two sleeping together last night!” Taehyung said, surprising Jimin. “We didn’t– Okay, maybe we... Anyway, yes, we're talking again, but... It's weird. It feels weird, I don’t know.” “Are you asking me for advice? I don’t even know why the two of you fought before.” Jimin sighed. “It was stupid. We're stupid. It wasn’t like...” he didn’t know how to put it into words – and to be honest, he didn’t even want to, because somehow, it still hurt a little, “We both had our fair share of fault, I think, so... It wasn’t like he hurt me on purpose or anything...” Taehyung looked at him dumbfounded. “What? Are you telling me he wasn’t the dickhead and you weren't the victim?! But how so, if you were crying your heart out that night in the hotel?!” Jimin shuffled uncomfortably on his seat. “Well... Aish, why is this important, really? I don’t wanna talk about it...” he scratched the back of his head to have another thing to worry about “And that wasn’t even the reason why I came here, to begin wi–” “It is important because if he wasn’t the dick and neither were you, then I was!” Jimin gave him a confused look. “What are you talking about?” “Aish...” Taehyung held his head on his hands “Sorry Chim, but I need to apologize to Jungkookie.” and just like this, he ran away, leaving Jimin alone and clueless. “Hey! Taehyung!” he called for him, but the boy just waved at him like “talk to you later”. Jimin snorted irritated. He wanted help and Taehyung gave him shit. “What's up? Tae abandoned you?” Jin appeared by his side with his necktie in hand. “Kind of...” Jimin looked up at his hyung and smiled at the sight of the boy struggling to get his tie right, “Need help, hyung?” “Maybe.” Jin sat next to him and let Jimin finish the job of tying the thing for him. “Mhmm... Hyung?” Jin didn’t answer but he looked Jimin in the eyes to show him he was listening, “Can I ask you something?” Jimin carefully passed the tip of the tie through the hole he created while talking. “Of course.” the older boy gave Jimin his best attentive eyes, because Jimin seemed to be choosing his words carefully, so Jin deduced it was an important thing. “If you... Had a fight with someone...” he successfully finished tying the necktie and let his hands fell between them with a little sigh, “And, like– This has nothing to do with me, okay? It's just that a friend asked me for advice and I have no idea what to say... Anyway... You had a fight, but everything is fine now, because everyone apologized, okay? Okay... But what should I– my friend do if even after everyone apologized, things are still awkward between the... people who fought? “Mhmm...” Jin looked up to represent him thinking “Are you asking me how to break the ice?” “No! I mean, yes, but... Not like that...” Jimin pouted at his failure of expressing the situation he was currently in. It was frustrating. “Regardless of the situation, you can always use this, it's 100% effective!” Jin cleaned his throat with a cough, “What did the ocean say to the shore?” “Oh no, hyung, not the dad jokes…” Jimin helplessly covered his face with his hands, showing all the love he had for his hyung's jokes. But Jin didn’t say a thing, so he knew it was useless to fight, “...what?” “Nothing. It just waved.” he answered already laughing that squeaky and loud laugh of his mid-way the joke. Jimin tried forcing his own laugh it in, but he couldn't make it. The laugh came out against his will and he whined out of frustration. I need more useful members. “Hyung...” “No, wait, wait! There's another! Oh, this one is pretty good, you're gonna love it.” Jin did The Dad Pose with his forearm resting on his thigh and gave him an expectant look, “What do you call a group of killer whales playing instruments?” Jimin was in silence, mortifiedly looking at him, but already fighting a smile, “An Orca-stra.” Jimin cracked. “Okay, no, I'm leaving.” he got up from his chair, “Hyung... Laughing at your jokes hurts my pride.”

••••

The group had just finished the second interview, when they were rushed to the place where the mv would be recorded. Jimin wanted some time alone with Jungkook – even though it was useless, since he still didn’t know what to do to make things less awkward –, but they were only seeming to get more and more apart. The photoshoot had been the first thing to get done in the morning, so that recording was their last responsibility of the day – kind of – and Jimin couldn’t wait for it to get finished. They weren't going to shoot everything at once, anyway, so hopefully it wouldn't take too long. When it finally ended – the sky already dark blue –, he almost thanked the heavens. He was tired, yes, but now that they had nothing more to do – apart from practice, of course –, he was free to try solving things out with Jungkook. Damn, he wanted things to get back normal again, okay? When they arrived at the studio, everyone headed at once to the showers to take a good bath after the long day, but there were only five of them, so Jimin and Jungkook were left waiting. “I'm older!” Jimin had said to the two months younger boy. “I know, Jiminie, but… Please…” Taehyung gave him the puppy eyes. Dirty. He knew Jimin was weak for the puppy eyes. “Fine.” he let out rolling his eyes in a pseudo irritation. And that was it. To be very honest, he only gave in, because he realized that was the chance he needed to be alone with Jungkook a little. In fact, in that moment, he was alone with Jungkook. Each one in a corner of the room looking at their phone's screen in a complete silence. “Hey… Jungkook…” Jimin tried, not taking his eyes off his phone. “Yes, hyung?” Jungkook quickly looked up at him. Jimin closed his eyes wanting to punch himself. He couldn’t believe he was actually going to do that. “So… You know…” Jimin looked at him, ignoring the flush on his cheeks, “What did the ocean say to the killer whales? Wait, what. No! Shit.” Jimin looked away, “How do you call an ocean waving to the shore? No! Fuck! That's not it, wait.” Now the will of punching himself in the face was the minor of all his personal issues if compared to his will to bury himself in the fucking earth's core. He couldn’t believe he appealed to a goddamn dad joke and completely messed it up. Who does that? But Jungkook was laughing. Really laughing. With his eyes disappearing and crinkling in the corner while his body curved forward. Jimin was in a trance for a moment, just appreciating the sound coming out of the younger's mouth and watching his nose scrunch in that adorable way only Jungkook could do. “Hyung..." the maknae looked at him with eyes sparkling and that beautiful bunny smile, making Jimin blush, "Are you really dad joking me?” Jimin couldn’t be more offended. “What? Well, yes, but–“ “Why are you so offended if it's true?!” that only made Jungkook laugh more and well, fuck, Jimin was laughing too, because yeah, it was kinda funny. “I can’t believe you actually managed to mess up a dad joke, hyung, this is iconic.” Jungkook looked at him with those warm eyes embellishing his face and Jimin almost melted. “Hey, how do you call the ocean waving to the shore?” he imitated Jimin's voice in a lame tone, which made both of them fall in an even louder laughing. “Shut up! I totally don't sound like this!” “Shut up! I totally don’t sound like this!” Jungkook did it again in a further lame way and now Jimin was almost falling from his chair, the laugh completely taking over his body and making his tummy ache. “You're stupid.” Jimin told him while trying to catch his breath. “But you're smiling.” Jungkook pointed out with a light red hue painting his ears and cheeks. Jimin rolled his eyes still with that ridiculous smile on his face. “Yeah…”

••••

Jungkook once watched an anime that talked about equivalent exchange – and even though it was an alchemy's fiction and such, Jungkook totally believed in its concept. So much he brought it to his reality. The most famous quote of the animation was something among the lines of “you can't win anything without losing something first”. You know, this here it's a paraphrase, but the idea still lives on it. Jungkook believed that in order to have good moments, the sad moments needed to come first. He didn’t know if he was right, but that was how things always worked for him in his life, so maybe he kinda was. One example was what it was happening with Jimin. They fought, got hurt, stopped talking for a pretty long time and yes, it had been terrible, but now, they were closer than ever. Jimin was resting his head on Jungkook’s chest, while watching a cheesy drama. Jungkook could feel his hot breath on his skin through the fabric of his tshirt. After a few minutes, Jungkook's hand was tangled in Jimin's hair without him even realizing when it happened. He was there playing with it and softly caressing the top of his head, when he felt it slowly dropping a little to the side. Jungkook smiled, because he realized Jimin had just slept. He stayed there though, hands on Jimin's hair and Jimin's body warming his own. They were glued to each other and Jungkook couldn’t feel more at ease. He was breathing Jimin's scent, which was very probably – and happily – going to stick to his clothes for the rest of the day. It was sweet and it smelled like flowers. Jungkook buried his face on Jimin's hair, wanting to feel more of it. He deeply breathed in and the smell made funny things to his stomach. He left no room to think about what that meant, though. He didn’t want things to get weird again. His left arm was starting to tingle because of the position he was in, but Jungkook didn’t allow himself to move. Jimin was peacefully sleeping and Jungkook would do the possible to keep him that way. He wasn’t really seeing Jimin's face, but he imagined he was with his beautiful lips a bit open, with the side of his face that was in touch with Jungkook's chest all crumpled in a very cute way. He grinned thinking about it. Jimin was really cute, even though he was older. He had a tiny nose, soft cheeks and small fingers. Sometimes when he was talking, his lips formed a little pout making his voice sound childish – but not in a bad way, in an adorable way. Jungkook sighed and ignored the pain starting to grow in the middle of his spine, still playing with the fluffiness of Jimin's hair. Jimin woke up when the movie had just ended. He looked up with puffy eyes and swollen lips, so Jungkook did the possible to fight a smile. The left side of his face was marked with the folds of Jungkook’s tshirt, which just made his confused expression look cuter. “Did I sleep?” he asked in a deep and raspy voice. Jungkook felt a little shiver run through his spine, but he laughed it away. “Yes.” he took the chance to change positions and strech his painful back. “Is the movie good?” Jimin rubbed his face, trying to fully wake up. “Great.” Jungkook lied. He couldn’t say he passed the whole time staring at the top of his head thinking about him, could he? “Damn. I'm sorry, I missed it.” “It's okay.” Jungkook smiled. Jimin was still looking at him with his eyes partially open and with his mouth – Jungkook realized in a jolt – dangerously close. His heart raced ridiculously like it always did when his attention was directed to Jimin's lips and he suddenly asked himself who already had kissed those lips. He felt uneasy out of nowhere. The memory of Jimin making out with that girl invaded his mind. Jungkook closed his eyes in order to make it go away. But... Their lips touching, their tongues– “Hey, what you thinking?” Jimin whispered on his face. Jungkook opened his eyes just to meet a worried face staring back at him. He shuffled uncomfortably under Jimin, but he kept his hand on the older's back – holding him still –, because he liked that warmth so close to him. “You know, hyung...” Jungkook didn’t know why he was about to ask this, “W-who was the first person you kissed?”, but he did. Jimin wided his eyes with a slight surprise from that unexpected question. He opened his mouth to answer a few times, but fell in silence in all of them. Jungkook felt a knot on his chest, so he hurried to apologize. “I'm sorry, you don’t have to answer, that was stu–“ “A girl from my class.” Jimin cut him off and looked away. He supported his face on his hands, resting on Jungkook’s chest. “I liked her, but she didn’t. Her friends forced her to kiss me. Aish, that was embarrassing.” Jimin hid his face for a moment, “I didn’t know back then, so when I found out I apologized to her.” Jimin explained, and added in a lower tone, “I also told her to find new friends, because... Who does that?” “But it wasn’t your fault, you didn’t have to apologize!” Jungkook was shocked and pissed for Jimin. What shitty friends, to be honest. “Of course I did!” Jimin lifted his head to look at Jungkook, and he realized Jimin's lips were doing the pout thing, “I liked her and they knew that, that's why they forced her to do it! It was my fault...” “Hyung, of course not!” Jungkook was getting mad. Why was Jimin blaming himself for a bad thing other people did? “You can't be guilty for liking someone! And even if you didn’t, other people would like her, and their friends would do the exact same thing!” Jungkook realized his voice was louder than he initially intended, but he couldn’t help it. It was unfair for Jimin to carry this guilt with him if he was innocent. Jimin seemed to take a moment to think about it. “Yes, but... Still...” “There's no still! Or but!” Jungkook said with his brows furrowed, “It's not your fault...” Jimin smiled that smile that made his eyes disappear and Jungkook tried really hard to not gasp for air. “Okay, okay...” he said with a small voice, “And... What about you?” Jungkook was caught off guard. “M-me?” he stuttered. “No, idiot, me. Of course it's you!” Jungkook thought about it. He was nervous to answer. Not because of the subject itself – he had already talked about it with Taehyung and it had been a normal conversation –, but because it was Jimin who was listening. “It was a-also a girl from my class...” Stop stammering, idiot. “There's nothing big about it, but... I didn’t really like her. It was just that she confessed to me and everyone else had already kissed, so I thought 'better be with someone that likes me' and...” Jungkook had no problem telling Taehyung this, but now he was blushing and feeling guilty, “It was selfish, I know, and I kind of used her, I think, but I... I... Don’t know what to say, I felt sorry later, but she didn’t study on the same school anymore and...” “Jungkookie, it's okay.” Jimin interrupted him, “You don’t have to excuse yourself. It's okay.” he warmly smiled and Jungkook felt that warmth spreading through his whole body, “We do some mistakes as we live, but it's okay, I guess... Don't worry too much about it... In the end, aren’t we all using each other for our own happiness, anyway?” Jimin looked away supporting his head on his hand again. They were both in silence now, but Jungkook was too excited and happy he was getting to know new things about Jimin. He told himself that was the reason why he so naturally – and let's say, in a dizzy state of mind – asked, “Hyung, and what about boys?” But actually hearing those words resounding through the room made him regret at the exact same second they came out. “Huh?” Jimin looked at him again, probably asking himself if he heard right, “Boys?” Jimin asked to make sure, and that was the chance he needed to say 'forget it' and move on to another topic, but he stuttered a 'yes' instead. “What about boys?” “H-have you ever kissed them?” Jungkook heart was beating in his throat now, and the living room was drowning in silence. It probably lasted five seconds, but it felt like an eternity for Jungkook. Jimin's face was being illuminated by the orange glow from the sunshine's dawn entering the window behind them, when he answered, lowering his eyes: “Yes...” Jungkook could have ended the conversation there and moved on, but he wanted to know. He needed to know. He wasn’t really understanding that urge of finding out about Jimin's personal life, but it was completely swallowing him up. “How was...it...?” Jimin was looking at him with fond eyes, which made Jungkook feel more comfortable and secure to ask the questions he wanted – it was a 'go ahead' kind of fond eyes. “The first time?" “Well... yeah.” Jungkook answered while wondering how many times could have happened. How many people could have touched Jimin's lips in such an intimate way? Jungkook didn’t understand why, but thinking about it – which led him to imagine it – made his stomach sink. He realized he was staring at Jimin's lips, so he averted his gaze. Jimin sighed. “We used to dance together. We were from the same academy, but we weren’t classmates. One day, the professor decided to take the best from each class and form pairs to create choreographys. He said it was for approximating the students or something... Anyway, we started practicing together, some times alone and some times not... I... was shy at first, but he was nice and easy to talk to, so we were getting along well as time went by...” Jimin wasn’t looking at Jungkook – he was blankly staring at the ground like he could see all of those memories before his eyes. Jungkook felt a tip of jealousy bothering him, “He was older too, and better than me, so he helped me with some dance moves. One day... It was night already, but we were still practicing, because the performance was on the other day and... I was really nervous, so I was doing a lot of mistakes. He noticed it, paused the music and sat down in silence.” Jimin smiled, “I asked 'what are you doing?' and he lied saying 'wahh, I'm so tired, let's take a break.'" he smirked softly, "Idiot... Anyway, he was my hyung, so I just nooded and sat too, but he started talking and playing with me, and when I realized we were sitting really close to each other laughing about stupid things and I had even forgot about the performance... I think that was what he was trying to do the entire time, to be honest... But... You know when you're talking with someone and suddenly things just go quiet? So... That happened and... I was looking at the ground, but he was looking at me and getting closer. I got nervous and didn’t know what to do or what was happening, so he said 'Jimin...' and made me look up. He said 'I think I'm going to kiss you, so if you don't want to, stop me.'” Jimin sighed one more time and Jungkook got scared he could feel his heart fastly beating in his chest, “But I didn’t. I didn’t stop him and he kissed me. It was gentle and sweet and also nice, so it made me wonder if I liked guys too... Yeah... That's it.” he laughed shyly a little, “Aish, I talked too much, this is embarrassing...” “Do you?” Jungkook asked thinking that breathing got a little harder since Jimin started telling his story. “What?” “Like guys too.” Jimin looked away. “Well, yes... At least, I thought so back then... Now I know I only like guys.” Jungkook met Jimin's eyes again, “Is there a problem?” he cautiously asked. “No!” Jungkook hurried in saying. “I'm sorry.” he didn’t know why he was apologizing, “There's not, I'm sorry...” well, deep down, he kinda did. “But... What happened after?” Jungkook told himself he just wanted to know out of curiosity. “Well, we performed. I made no mistakes. And then, I left to Seoul.” Jungkook quietly nooded. “I see...” There was still another question bothering him, but he was scared to ask, so he just stayed in silence chewing on his bottom lip. His hand was sweating on Jimin's back so he took it off. “What is it?” Jimin sweetly asked. How did he do this? Jungkook said nothing, but it was still like Jimin could read him like a letter. He was about to answer 'nothing', but instead he asked: “Did you like him?” And here it was why it was bothering him: he didn’t want to hear the answer. If Jungkook was to be honest with himself, he would have to admit he didn’t really need to ask to know it. It just needed for Jimin to start talking about it, for him to realize. It just needed for Jungkook to look at Jimin blushing and looking away right now, to understand it. But the thing was, Jungkook was the master of lying to himself. So he needed to hear it. “Yes.” and even though he knew it, it still hurt, “I didn’t know back then, but I do now.” Jimin smiled at him, “But it's past. I have all of you to love now.” his eyes did the crescent moon thing. Jungkook's heart clutched in his chest. He was so cute. “It's not the same!” Jungkook told him, even though he knew Jimin was aware of that. “Hah?” the dork did a disbeliefed tone, “What you talking about? I thought it was already pretty clear that I'm marrying aaall of you.” he said like it was the most obvious thing. “Stop joking around!” Jungkook scolded him smiling. He didn’t know why hearing that made him happy, but, somehow, it did. Jimin tickled him. “I'm not!” Jungkook tickled him back. “Yes, you are!” They got into a tickle fight, just to finish it three minutes later with Jungkook screaming for mercy, “Fine, fine, you won! I give up, hyung, stop!” They were both laughing and trying to catch their breaths, when Taehyung appeared out of nowhere and joined them to watch the drama – now replaying on the tv. Before Jungkook realized, everyone else was snuggled around them with popcorn and stuff, making the place feel all warm and cozy. He smiled, feeling so much like home.

#armiesnet #btsmaknaenet #jikook #jikook fic #kookmin #kookmin fic #jungkook #jimin #myfics #jungkook and jimin

[freigaeist]

hiii bea! 🌱 2 + 10 + 14

omg arden!!! hi hello hey omg hallo : D!!!!

2 describe in detail the moment where you fell in love with your bias(es)?

ok you said detail i will DO detail [takes a sip of vodka and flinches] i actually went through the individual kim bros tag to find out WHEN it was bc some might know i started as a taehyung stan; he was the first i was drawn to since i thought he was cute and when i heard his voice i thought he was hot and as i got to know them more and comments abt him being 4D/alien and him not rly understanding/liking that i just felt very connected and oddly moved? it made me sentimental smh? i don’t have a problem with my ways of doing things and since i’m surrounded by ppl who love me nobody else has a problem with my ways either but i had hard times accepting that my normal wasn’t everybodies normal and that i’m sometimes too much and not rly.. it’s hard to describe but sometimes i feel like i’m floating 3m above while everybody else is standing with both feet on the ground or talking jibberish to others while it’s crystal clear to myself? i feel connected to him. he’s that kind of person to me, someone i relate to, someone i want to protect like an older sister or i imagine twins care for each other? i fell head over heels and that feeling didn’t change though jin and joon also grew on me. kim taehyung still is the heart, my heart in this triple

for jin, who was the 2nd (yes pat yourself on the broad ass shoulders here mr. kim senior), it was the 12th march when i reblogged a gif of jin tagging it#shit this got me #in bts you may have a steady bias & a 2nd one #but each day there comes another 3 and 4#like one day i’ll point at namjoon being like ‘you’re todays 3’ #and on anther days i’ll be like ‘seokjin be my 2 for 2day ok?’ #bts is just a big bias  anD I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN HOW ACCURATE THIS WAS!!!! on the 20th of june 2016 i used his sidetag for the first time and 3 days later i told yoongi (who was my 2nd bias back then) to “watch out” bc jin was growing on me. i remember getting more into bts and being like ?? when i realized that jin was one of the “less popular” members and not understanding? it wasn’t even about his looks but i found him to be super funny and endearing, i thought his suave comments and cutting the atmosphere was hilarious and i was always finger guns towards him and pointing at my dirty computer screen where jin said or did smth relatable (isn’t he always relatable be honest) and saying “me” and he just grew on me not like a disease or a shroom but more like how flowers break through the cracks in asphalt blooming and blossoming even when there’s barely any sunlight or rain just breaking through and being there anyways like “fuck you i grow here now!” jin was like that. he said “excuse me is that seat taken? no? what do you me a throne is for one person only no i think- taehyung move- yes see? now you’ve two biases!” and. he just was there. i love him so very much never underestimate me being a huge loser for this huge loser i love him more than my weak, poor, cold assy existence

FOR NAMJOON. EHEM. WELL. it was the typical route of he cute > no he ain’t i hate him who’s lim nimjeon?? > sHIT SHIT FUCK FISH HSHIS THIT MAYDAY MAYDAY WE’RE CRASHING I REPEAT WE’RE FUCK WE’RE FUCKED > happily(?) biased 

it started with me commenting stuff like #i blame my flatmate but he kinda grows on me #doesn’t help that he has a good choice in everything and is educating himself abt homans PLUS likes tae very much and honestly i still blame @grumpytth bc she can actually see the future. it may just be odd shapes and shadows but she KNOWS &she just had to say smth like “u would say that” whilst we would watch bts vids and joon suddenly turns into the pope or the philosophy prof and i couldn’t even say NOO bc she was right?? also whenever we would go out shopping i’d just LOOK at smth or TOUCH it and she’d give me That Look and mutter “that’s so namjoon” under her breath. sometimes i’d start a random convo and her brows would disappear under her hairline and the only answer i’d get was “idk why don’t you ask joon” aND I SGUADKJHDUIGAHSD FUCK SHE KNEW AND DAMN SHE RIGHT i have nothing to say or add, it was fate. meant to be. this loser owns my soul with all his soft, warm, big heart, sharp, witty and open mind, his child-like curiosity and movements, his fire spitting rapping and his soft, raspy, unsure singing and honestly i’m just his. this loser owns me ughhh 

10 when did you realise that you’re in too deep?

isn’t when you dream abt them? i had this one dream where sope were my older brothers and i forgot their bday (which was on the same day for some reason) and i just crashed into my flat (in which miraculously my wHOLE FAM LIVED like my two actual younger siblings, mom and stepfather AND flatmate) and i run into their room and jumped onto their matress that was lying on the floor and apologised non-stop for forgetting their birthdays….. yoongi was super grumpy and just kicked me and hobi made really loud groaning noises and said he’d never forgive me. it’s because i abandoned yoongi and can’t admit hobi is my bias wrecker sadhuashsa

also i think whenever you’re reaaally into something they become the “home” of your thoughts so whenever my thoughts would trail off it’d always come back to “but what would bts do/imagine this scenario with bts” randomly, it’s embarrassing but it’s true :^/ so that’s how that happened……….

14 top 5 ‘you’re lame but i love you anyways’ moments

the whole ahl ok no 1 taes cypher cover &this little ppap I LOVE HIM AND SUPPORT HIM AND HES ADORABLE!!!! it may seem lame to people and I acknowledge that but I don’t find it embarrassing there’s just pure love in me for that child 🙈💓2 that one time rapmon said smth along the lines “and I look like a pornstar” I cANNOT AND WILL NOT REMEMBER 3 when hobi danced to ice cream cake and had his beanie covering his face and his whole lower body was doing smth utterly inappropriate….4 this is harder than I thought I’m good with 2nd hand embarrassment I bliev……. I just don’t like those pranks things…. 5 this shall be it they’re too relatable and I love them too much to actually feel ashamed or be even slightly embarrassed. it has come to that point /crosses self Thank you so much for asking!!! Sorry it took a while 🙏😸have a good one Arden 🌺💕

#bwirang #sheidheue i procrastinated but i had to watch that first part of the new resident evil shehjegeuw #one does not simply do the mistake and tell bea 'in detail' bc bea will detail the detail out of the details detail in detail...tail.... #thanks so much!! #answered