#oh god I’d lock her in my dorm and keep her to myself

[spicy-picklez]

Walk of Shame (NSFW)

Includes:

Degradation, overstimulation, praise kink, orgasm control, teacher/student, choking, aftercare.

Characters:

Larissa Weems x female student.

Shorthand:

Y/N: Your Name

Y/L/N: Your Last Name

——————————————————————————

The walk of shame to Principal Weems’ room after being caught never gets easier. Enid let out a little whimper to my left and Wednesday kept her face expressionless, as usual, on my right. Coach Vlad lead the way, a couple steps ahead of us.

The corridors were silent apart from the four sets of footsteps walking down them. Turning left, Vlad takes a few more steps before knocking on the familiar door belonging to Principal Weems.

“Come in.” Her sweet English accent sounds from the other-side of the door.

Coach opens the door and steps inside. “Ah Vlad… to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Letting out an unamused sigh and slightly bowing his head, he takes a step to the side, revealing us to her. Principal Weems eyes glanced over us before catching eye contact with me. I can’t help myself, a smirk breaks across my face as I give her a wink.

For a split second, her eyes widen, red appearing over her cheeks, no doubt remembering the last time I was in trouble… precisely 8 hours and 24 minutes earlier. She clears her throat and regains her composure.

“Principal Weems, these three, led by Y/N, broke into Sheriff Galpin’s backyard to vandalise his chickens.”

“I’m sorry, what on earth do you mean, vandalise his chickens?” Larissa says, straightening up and putting her hands on her desk, holding her weight evenly between them.

“I may or may not have glued googly-eyes over their eyes.” I piped up as Wednesday smirks, another worried whimper coming from Enid. An amused smile creeps across Larissa’s face for a second.

“And why on Earth did you decide to do that?” She scoffs, shaking her head. Grabbing my phone from my back pocket, I happily show her a side by side image of Tyler’s Hyde form with the chicken with googly eyes. “See any resemblance?” I laugh.

“Miss Y/L/N. Enough.” Coach Vlad pipes in.

“While I do find the unique creativity inspiring, you broke onto the Sheriff’s property. There is going to be consequences. For all of you. While Sheriff Galpin is not pressing charges for the sake of keeping the peace, he does expect you to be at his house at 8.30am this Saturday. Do not be late.”

“Excuse me? Principal Weems? But what exactly will we be doing?” Enid timidly pipes up.

“That is on a need to know basis. You, as of now, don’t need to know. Now, Coach Vlad, please escort Wednesday and Enid back to their dorms. As Y/N has already been in trouble today and clearly has not learned, I’d like to speak with her privately.” Larissa says, standing up and walking around her desk.

“Of course.” Turning around, Coach Vlad guides Wednesday and Enid out of the room. Once the door shuts, she gestures at the couch, motioning for me to sit. I hear the door lock and her heels click as she walks on the smooth wooden floor. Her walk slow, her hips swaying as she moves.

“God you’re beautiful.” I whisper as she gets closer, my stomach twisting and heat rising from below. Her shirt, a simple light green button up tucked into her skirt, perfectly accentuates her breasts and I can’t help but stare.

“My eyes are up here, Miss Y/L/N.”

Leaning back on the couch, I let my knees fall to the outside, trying to ease the unbearable heat rising from my core.

“Oh I’m more than aware my love, but I wasn’t looking at your eyes.” I say softly, a smirk on my face, slowly raising my eyes to meet hers. She seems taken aback by my comment but quickly regains her composure.

“Mmm then I guess you wont mind if I do this.” She says, raising her hands to her shirt, slowly unbuttoning it. A desperate groan escapes my lips as her shirt slips off of her shoulders, revealing her soft skin and my favourite bra of hers. The smooth black lace cups her breasts perfectly and my mouth starts to water. Seeing her so perfect and confident like this, I can feel my juices dripping down my legs. Goddamn.

I go to stand up, putting my hands on her hips but her fingers on my shoulder stop me. She pushes me down onto the couch and crawls over top of me. “No touching.” She says, slowly standing back up, swaying her hips around so she’s facing with her back to me. Her hands run from her thighs to her breasts and back down to her skirt which she slowly pulls down, revealing the matching black lace panties. “Fuck Larissa.” I moan, trying to readjust my jeans. This is unbearable. I’m usually the dominant one, and while it’s so fucking hot how she’s taking control and doing what she wants, I can’t stand not being able to touch what is mine.

“Mi corazón, sit down now.” I rise from my seat, making her turn around. She tries to get me back in my seat but I simply grab her wrist and hold it behind her back, twisting her around again and pulling her weight back onto my chest with my right hand around her neck. “Lets not forget who you belong to my love.” I whisper, switching between gently trailing kisses down her neck and running my teeth along her earlobe, small whimpers escaping her.

“You my love. Only you.” She moans as my hand lets go of her wrist behind her back and slowly makes its way down her body, my mouth still teasing her neck and ear. “My perfect little slut. Now, I do believe I said sit.” I say, releasing her throat and using my pelvis to push into her ass, forcing her to walk forward towards the couch and take a seat. She slowly sits down, spreading her legs wide. Fuck, she looks so gorgeous. Wearing nothing but her lingerie and pure unbridled lust and love. I wish I could screenshot this memory. “Good girl, my gorgeous.” I say, lowering to my knees.

Wrapping my arms around her thighs, I pull her so her ass in on the edge of the couch. The soaked patch on her panties was impossible to miss and I can feel more juices escape me, knowing she gets so worked up over me as I do her. I slowly trail a finger up and down her covered pussy, circling her clit gently every time I pass it. She bucks her hips immediately letting out a moan, desperately trying to get more pressure. A small chuckle escapes me. I lay a kiss on her covered clit before rising from my knees.

I kiss up her body, spending extra time at her lower abdomen knowing how riled up it gets her. Heavy breaths escape her as she quietly moans my name. “Fuck… Y/N.” My hands play with her breasts, i gently pull and twist her nipples, earning another breathless moan. “Thats my good little slut. I want to hear you.” I lean forward, focusing my attention on her neck. Gently grasping a bit of her neck in between my teeth, I swirl my tongue around, helping soften and break the skin as I start sucking. A hickey very quickly forms and her moans fill the air. Giving it a kiss, I raise my lips to her ear. “I’m hungry and I know exactly what I want. Your gorgeous little pussy that radiating heat against my leg. I’m not going to stop until you’re a desperate mess beneath me. Got it, mi corazón?”

She moans and squirms underneath me as I place my knee fully against her soaked cunt, fully embracing the heat on my body. All she can manage to reply is a whimper and a nod of her head. “Fuck, you’re already a gorgeous mess for me my darling.”

“Whats your safe words my love?” I ask as I trail myself back down in between her legs, lifting them onto my shoulders. I gently hook my finger under the waistband of her panties. “Red is stop, yellow is slow down, green is go. Non verbal is opening and closing my fists.” She says, the answer imprinted in her brain as I made sure she knew exactly what they are and when to use them many months ago.

Accepting that answer, I rip her panties down and softly place my tongue on her slit. As soon as I tasted her, all hopes of going torturously slow to tease her went out the window. I immediately focus on her clit and the sounds of her beautiful moans fill the room, making my core drip. Flicking my tongue up and down over her clit, I pick up the speed. To which she responds by bucking her hips towards me and grabbing my hair with her hands. “Oh fuck Y/N…” She was already so close, I slip two fingers inside of her and immediately she crashes over the edge. Her legs shaking intensely and her back arching. I don’t stop, I would gladly spend an eternity between her legs. I wasn’t kidding when I said I was hungry, she was going to be a gorgeous mess by the time I finished with her and my core burned with anticipation at the thought.

Her moans get louder as I grab her clit between my lips and gently suck. Her hands pulling my hair, trying to get my head away, overwhelmed with pleasure. Taking my fingers out of her, I gently use my thumb to stimulate her clit long enough to say, “Mi corazón, you’re barely at your second orgasm and already an overstimulated mess beneath me. I will have what I want and right now, all I want is to eat you out until you dont remember anything except my name.” Removing my finger from her clit, I replace it with my tongue as she moans and bucks her hips, grinding against my tongue. A smile escapes me, “such a good girl, my gorgeous slut.” I say, sucking on her clit. Her hips grinding desperately against my tongue. I love it. I love the desperation, so needy for my touch that she can’t help herself.

My fingers slide back inside her and I curl them upwards. I immediately find her sweet spot and her shaking legs squeeze against my head, my right hand under her legs and over her stomach, holding her in place as she rewards me with an orgasm. A loud string of profanities and desperate moans escapes her as I keep hitting her G-spot. Flicking my tongue once more, she releases herself over me again. A sensitive moan comes from her as I continue my work. I know for a fact I’ve soaked through my jeans. Larissa will always make sure of it.

My fingers slide out from her and I reach them up to her, still gladly enjoying her pussy. She slowly takes each finger into her mouth, swirling her tongue around them, tasting every last drop of herself off my fingers. I let out a content moan as I slowly lower my hand into my pants. My finger flicks my clit and I reenact every move I’m making with my tongue on Larissa with my fingers. Moaning against her clit, I can feel her tense, preparing for another orgasm. “Hold it.” I growl, bringing her clit into my mouth and sucking on it. “P… please…” Larissa begs, thrusting her hips towards me.

“You cum when I tell you to.” I say, in between tongue flicks. I slide my fingers inside me, using my palm to stimulate my clit. Moans escape me as I feel her clit vibrate with pleasure in my mouth. “Shit Y/N… p… please.” She squirms beneath me.

“Cum for me, mi corazón.” I say, using my nose to stimulate her clit as I dive my tongue inside her and she goes tumbling over the edge as I reach my own orgasm. I moan against her as my body contracts, pleasure coursing through me. “Fuck Larissa…” I moan, leaving a gentle kiss on her lower abdomen.

Standing up, I grab her hands and pull her up into me, wrapping my arms around her waist and holding her shaking legs up. Laying a kiss on her forehead, I wipe her sweat-covered hair out of her eyes. “You were so amazing my love, lets go get you cleaned up.” I whisper in her ear as she feebly nods against me, I guide her to the bathroom and run a bath for her. Slipping my legs on either side of her, I sit behind her as she leans back against my chest, the warm water flowing over us. Grabbing the soap, I gently lather her in it. Laying gentle kisses all over her as she leans her head back against me, totally spent. “Are you ok mi corazón? Did you want anything? A snack? Water? Cuddles?” I whisper, gently massaging the soap on her shoulders.

“I’m ok, my love. I just want cuddles, can you stay the night?” She sighs, exhausted but content, as I wrap my arms around her. “Of course my darling. Anything you need. Now lets get this soap washed off and get you into bed.” I say, kissing her neck.

#larissa weems #larissa x reader #wlw smut #smut #principal weems #teacher #teacher student

[beann-e]

I have a head cannon that bakugou would not be sweet to who he liked or dated and instead deny it and hate on them even more.

The reason being because he doesn’t really understand feelings so, when he’s talking badly about you he just assumes it’s normal and a bit funny at the lies he’s spitting that his just continuously friends are eating up.

he’s been talking bad about people for years so , who cares if your his s/o your no acceptation all people are equal in his mind. Now lemme explain please fall in line and hold a buddys hand kids we’re going on a trip inside my brain

It wasn’t easy getting the spiky haired male to ask you out honestly if someone asked you , which they’d never dare since they’d never know per bakugous request him saying it’s not their business , how you two got together you would shrug your shoulders and walk off.

It wasn’t that it was a boring day or a simple question that you supplied the answer for. It was that it was unusual.

You’d been at quirk practice after school in the gym like you’d usually do only this time bakugou made his way over to you.

You’d been seeing him more often when you were in the gym and you weren’t sure why until he explained that he was interested in your workout routine saying you two could have a contest to see who’s was more grueling

It seemed like fun so like any competitive person you agreed. Only for him to tap out on day two your laughs swirling around the gym as he fought so hard to say he only lost because he just didn’t like how the air would hit his ass crack anytime he did your little girly squats you’d wrote down for him.

You couldn’t say you weren’t both confused and happy when he let the air calm down before he spoke “ i’m kind of conflicted “ his eyes coming up to look at yours from the floor “ could you maybe help me“

“ of course what’s up “

“ i’m at a standstill “

“ more like a sit still “ you joked eyes peering down at his straight face “ yeah ok let’s imagine that didn’t happen —continue “

“ uh yeah anyways — i’m at a standstill because honestly I like your shit workout “ he shook his head to the floor “ but I also like you so I find myself thinking if I couldn’t get through your workout even though I enjoyed it so much could I “

his voice rasped shakily “ could I get through a relationship with you even though I like you even more “

truthfully you’d wish you’d said no because right now you wanted nothing more than to just be friends with the male sitting across the room from you.

It’s not that you didn’t like him of course you did he was hot , smart, and felt strongly about his goals but, he was an asshole.

Not in the aspect of hes just mean and rude but he was an all around prick as he laughed with his friends from across the room.

Their voices only getting louder as you sat alone a few seats away from them trying to complete some work on your desk you’d just been given “ dude gotta admit class 1-A’s got some hot chicks “

“ yeah honestly minas top three if we’re being truthful “

“mina dude come on have you seen jirou “

“ don’t even get me started “ denkis voice came out in a soft groan “ god I would— “

“ yeah yeah all that jazz but “ seros voice came out soft. His hand coming up to point at the seat as you sat in with your head down eyes furrowed in anger at the math on your paper that wasn’t syncing up with your brain right now

“ y/n “ his fist tightened as he groaned “ y/n could get it on all accounts — the car “

“ you don’t have a car “ denkis voice came out as sero continued

“ the school bathroom “

“ but which one ? because one of you would have to go in the wrong sex’s unless its a handicap or family stal-“

“the fucking dorms “

“ y/n ? “ kirishima asked quickly “ y/n l/n ? “

“ fuck yeah “

“ hmm “ kirishima studied you before shaking his head “ honestly kinda hot never really paid attention to that stuff before though “

“ what the fuck how can’t you “

“ uh i’m more so a personality guy “

“ so by personality would you fuck em ‘ “

“ not to be vulgar but of course “ his answer taking no time “ y’know how fun they’d be in a relationship though not just with sex ? imagine cuddles—fuck —what about cuddle monster y/n maybe ? god that’d be so hot “

denki getting restless as he held his thoughts in from the other males. His mind spazzing before finally getting to speak “ i’d fuck her too “ he yelled everyone’s eyes going sharp on the boy before he coughed “ id rock it too — we’re talking about getting mullets “

“ oh boys that’d be kinda hot “ you said laughing sarcastically sero turning to you smiling softly “ oh yeah on who in particular “

“ mm totally blondie over there “

“ the fuck ? “ his eyes shot away from denkis and moved to yours anger pouring through his gaze making you jerk back a little in surprise “ the hell you mean i’d look hot “

your eyebrows creased “ well because I — you do you would “

“ don’t go talking out of your ass you hear me—shit people like you don’t deserve to talk to anyone about looks “ your mouth went dry at his lazer stare.

His lips curling up into a smirk before he shook his head “ these assholes are talking about fucking you yknow “ he whispered to you “ you gonna let em ? you gonna let em right? because that’s the only attention you’d ever get right “

“ bakubro hold up chill out “

“ yeah bakubro chill out “ you said your gaze wavering from the hard one you’d had when you felt the heat radiating off of him no comfort coming from him to you only confusing you more. Had you two been in a secret argument that you knew nothing about

“ whatever “ he leaned back in his chair as the class went back to what they were doing your hands gripping the pencil when the class got even louder but you only searching for your boyfriends voice easily drowning out the others

“ i’d never fuck “ your heart broke at the deep voice youd identified

“ dude seriously come on with the lies —fucking beautiful “

“ correctomundo my friend their absolutely stunning “

his laugh ripping through their claims hand jerking back to point at you “ you think their beautiful much less hot ? “

“ yeah you don’t ? “ denki spat all of them looking at the boy like he was crazy for enjoying this obviously racy topic right now much less taking the wrong side of the debate

“ I literally just sat here and said I wouldn’t fuck em’ pokémon —so you can guess what that correlates to “

“ hey dude why’re you being sucha a dick —the personality’s top tier even if your stupid enough to think their not at least hot“ kirishima putting the ending words in quotation marks honestly a bit upset with his friend

“ hey watch it your over here defending an extra like your gonna make moves on em “ he laughed “ I advise otherwise “

you let out a sigh thinking he’d finally stopped acting the way he was. Your mind preparing to only give him the silent treatment for today and then tomorrow peppering him with kisses until he laughed and apologized for his words

Heart only being snatched away from your body when you heard his deep vibrating voice cut through the room “ probably gonna give you a rash from all the shit that’s on their mouth all the time “

it’s just lipgloss.

Lipgloss bakugou bought you packs of earlier this week after he swore he loved the taste and scent.

moving to wipe at it gently with the sleeve of your outfit him still going causing tears to start building up in your eyes “ bet the bitch doesn’t even shower —had em’ over for a project last night had to wash my sheets and blanket —took hours last night “

“ oh “ denki let out “ I was a bit confused when I saw you at the laundry room at 3 in the morning.

Tears blurring your vision as you thought about his earlier words when he’d given you your favorite sweater of his after saying he’d washed it for you because he knew you wouldn’t do it yourself because in his words ‘ you would never wash it without his help because you were a creep and didn’t want to erase his smell or some shit ‘

“ yeah —smelled so bad im telling you stay away you don’t wanna ask em’ out “

you moved to grab your phone as he kept talking you typing out a message as best as you could before hitting send. His hand moving off the desk and going in his pants pocket to pull his phone out keeping it hidden under the table eyes trailing over the screen

Firefighter >3

baby are we arguing

if your mad at me please just tell me don’t just talk shit about me in front of your friends

him locking his phone and placing it on his desk before you typed out one more message him letting out a sigh as he grabbed for it again

firefighter >3

if you keep going we’re over

“ but imagine whoever bags them apart from bakugou at least since we all know he’s all anti hot y/n “

“ they’d be so lucky “

“ yeah right “ he spoke lowly almost trying to hide his voice from you eyes glued to his phone “ wouldn’t dare “

“ wouldnt dare what bakugou “

“ oh wouldnt dare be —-be lucky “ he locked his phone again “ feel bad for the person dating them all the shit they gotta go through put up with , claims they make through message and not with real words, being too much of a pussy to speak up for themselves“

he shook his head softly eyes twitching “ you wouldn’t put up with that —you couldn’t put up with that your not built for it you gotta have tough skin y’know like me “

he licked his lips moving to sit up straighter when hearing his phone vibrate “ don’t uh “

firefighter >3

one more bakugou

one more bakugou katsuki and were over

his eyes darting over to yours before his eyebrows furrowed and body shook in anxiousness he couldn’t figure out what to do.

He was an asshole you knew this so why the fuck were you being such a crybaby now? did he pick the wrong person to date he thought you were strong

He genuinely just wanted to keep these creeps away from what’s his by scaring them off he wasn’t doing anything wrong? well at least in his eyes

He moved to talk again trying his best to string together a nice sentence “ just don’t uh ask —ask em’ out —-their utter dog shit when it comes to relationships leave it to someone who can handle that y’know “

he relaxed into his chair at his victory when he watched you throw your phone to the table and fix your skirt and standup. Him sighing out when you picked up your stuff to leave “ thank all might “ he whispered head shooting to lean back against his desk chair and look up at the sky blood running cold when his phone vibrated against the table

firefighter >3

all your shits gonna be outside my dorm door. So you might want to come collect it before I have half and half lighting campfires tonight

y’know since i’m such a shit person —gotta hope your bestie deku can give me some after school lessons on personalities. He’s so sweet I bet he’ll fix me right up

screw you katsuki see you in hell

“ the —the fuck what did —the hell did I do wrong “ he screamed when he saw you slam the classroom door after flicking him off

his friends eyes moving from the door to bakugous phone that he’d thrown on the table.

Todorokis eyes going wide when he read his stupid nickname given to him by the steamy male “ I —I uh“ he coughed “ I think i’m gonna go help y/n since their now single—don’t want em’ getting hurt with amateur fire starters again when i’m right here “

his stone face peered down at the red faced boy “ I mean that is ok with you bakugou seeing as though you two were most likely in a relationship by the messages before today “

“ you asshole did you go through me and my s/o’s messages “

“ judging by the series of recent text I don’t believe that’s the case for you two anymore “ he reached to grab his backpack saying a formal goodbye before he spoke “ I feel like i’m needed by a very —very perfectly intelligent unshitty person right now “

seros voice coming out softly as he let bakugous phone fall to the table disappointment in his eyes “ look uh —dude you didn’t have to mess your relationship up just to go against us ? “ he winced at the claim“ honestly you could’ve stayed quiet the whole time —it’s not like we agreed with you anyways “

bakugou leaned back in his chair anger swirling in his stomach as he felt his body sweat at the new heat spreading throughout his whole body.

How the hell did he mess up where the hell did he mess up he explained to you he wasn’t gonna treat you any differently than any other extra here and that went for basic conversations too

Maybe he went a bit far with the dont date em ‘ that was probably it you didn’t like how he said don’t date you because he was the only one who could handle you right ?

He shook his head a bit confused you just wanted him to say that you could handle yourself and didn’t need him right ?

So , why the hell did he feel like he’d done something wrong he wasn’t stupid but he just wasn’t well versed in feelings. He already didn’t know how to handle his own so how was he expected to handle another persons.

To him his words were normal he talked about all people like this hell, he bullied deku for 3 years going as far as to make a special nickname for him

that wasn’t even the worse he could’ve done and you knew that so why was he in trouble and worrying about Icy hot taking his place

He was honestly confused?

Could words really be that hurtful?

could his words really be that hurtful ?

#katsuki bakugo imagine #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bakugou headcanons #bakugou imagine #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugo headcanons #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsukibakugou #katsuki x you #bnha katsuki x reader #mha katsuki #denki x y/n #denki x reader #sero x y/n #sero x reader #eijiro kirishima x y/n #shoto x reader #mha denki #mha imagines #mha #mha x reader #mha fanfiction #mha headcanons #bnha mina

[yunhostinyuyu]

marks

pairing: bad boy!san x fem reader

genre: college au, suggestive, almost smut

wc: 3.1k

synopsis: Y/N swore herself to never get involved with people like Choi San: the typical fuckboy. She hated him (or she at least made herself believe she did) but thats the exact reason that drew him towards her...

warnings: teasing, making out, mentions of sex, alcohol and drugs

—

„look at who we have here? Y/N doing her dirty laundry, never thought I’d witness that.“

you were hunched on your floor with baskets of freshly washed clothes all around the floor. Whipping your head to the door of your dorm‘s bathroom, and you immediately regret it. The cheeky comment came from no other than Choi San - Resident fuck boy and unfortunately, your roommates best friend. He is the type of guy your parents would warn you from. The type to play with a girl until he’s satisfied and dips right after.

The type of you you would never want to get involved with in any sort of way.

But, since he hangs around your dorm frequently and you share a few classes and lectures, that was not easy. Crashing on the couch you bought with your roommate bought together when you moved in, more often than you’d like. Throwing certain looks at you when you entered the lecture halls or passed by him when he was chatting and smoking with his friends off campus. Never letting you breathe for a single moment, he enjoyed teasing you. Needless to say you hated his guts for many things, and he just added more reasons to your imaginary list with every passing day you saw him around campus.

Meanwhile, you’re lifestyle was the complete opposite of his, being the well mannered and friendly classmate, the typical nice girl everyone thought you were - and what your parents wanted you to be. Of course, you were not always like that, especially around your friends. With them you could act the way you truly are, and that was anything but the front you put on most of the time. But San made you drop any sort of friendliness to curse at him every chance you got. And right now was no different:

“Fuck off Choi. Wooyoung isn’t here, so leave.” you spat while not paying anymore attention to him, instead going back to the task at hand.

Taking a few steps towards you, inspecting the room as if he had seen it for the first time, and paying close attention of you putting clothes out of the washing machine. His eyes paying close attention to your hands that move in fluid motions.

“I know, but he’ll be here any second.” Trailing off, and you decided to not even answer him - he isn’t worth your time or nerves right now, after all he just wanted to get under your skin and rile you up. And the less you talk, the better.

He hums to himself, as he bends down to pick up one black, lacy pair of undergarments, inspecting them closely. His thumbs grazing over the neat material, fingertips holding them up in the air. You don’t realize he took something from the basket to your left until he comments on them.

“Are these new? Must be, huh... your little ass would look sooo cute in them. Are you gonna wear them for me one day, Y/N?” his low voice echoed through the tiled room, and you are fast to react: snatching the pair of panties back, out of his grip and throwing it back into the basket. Scoffing, showing your stride at him without any hesitation. “In your dreams. Now, leave me alone. I’m not gonna repeat myself, Choi.” Your features twist as you grow more and more annoyed with him.

“Oh don’t worry,” he backed up a few steps, but the cocky grin stayed on his lips, “with that attitude I’ll most certainly dream of it.”

You heard the door twist, which could only mean that Wooyoung was finally here to save you from any further suggestive comments. Considering you couldn’t stand anything more that was about to leave his mouth.

Admittedly, San has his reputation for a reason: him being one of the most handsome guys you have ever laid your eyes on. And if he wasn’t such an asshole, there would be a possibility you’d be interested in him. And yes, if the stigma that your parents had embroidered into your brain, that ‘sex is bad’ and to stay ‘pure’ until you’re married. If you could push that out of your mind for good, you would be maybe like San. Maybe, you’d even be with him... but god forbid he would ever find out you thought of him like that, especially when you had one of your moments, late at night. If he would know about your honest thoughts, he would use it to his advantage. He wouldn’t give in until he got his way with you - in his very own way.

“San-ah! Come on, we gotta go!” your roommate screams and prompts the visitor to get going quick.

“Too bad, guess I’ll see you around, Y/N. Maybe one day my dreams will become reality nonetheless.” He turns on his heels and dashes towards his friend. The repeating sound of the lock falling into place made you sigh out loudly, pressing your forehead against the cold material of the washing machine you’re still sitting in front of.

Incidents like these are not new and you have already gotten used to San having zero shame when it came to anything even remotely personal or sexual. He knew how he comes across, which only scores him more and more girls to take home and to make his body count grow rapidly. But until now, it hasn’t worked with you, and he’s trying time and time again to wrap you around his finger. Without success.

And you planned to keep it this way.

–

“I hate you for dragging me here.” you groaned after you kept chewing on the rim of your red cup. The girl on your right ignored your comment and kept scanning the crowd.

It was unbelievable, but yes: you were stuck on a frat party... again. Your cousin Mijung needed to meet a guy she was planning on hooking up with, and you lost a bet, so you had to go with her. In secret, she was still scared to go by herself and you wanted to help her - regardless of that you hated parties like this. Obviously, you hoped that she wouldn’t leave your side too soon, but at the same time it only meant you could get home earlier, which was a win in your books.

„Sure you do. But I don’t care right now, because you owe it to me. You could let loose for once and also get some good di-“

„No, I’m not, and you know I can’t!“ you cut Mijung off and she lifts her hands up in defeat.

She just scoffs while scanning the place for faces she might recognize. “Yes, yes I know. God forbid your parents ever find out your at a party like this, or even have sex. But they have nothing to worry about.” Thinking to yourself that they really do not need to worry, but deep inside you wanted to do all these things that you got restricted from. Forcefully restricted yourself from, and the longer you thought about it, you wanted to go against it. Date and sleep with guys as you please, live a little. But still, something unknown was holding you back from it.

“You know it’s not just that but also-“ you started explaining yourself for the nth time in your life, but now she cut you off and hopped off her barstool. The man she was waiting for finally appeared and she left with him after they exchanged a quick peck as a greeting. Being uncomfortable with the scene, you fumbled with your phone in order not to look awkward or out of place - but that’s exactly what you were. And on top of that, you were alone.

You held your phone tightly in your grip, watching over the intense crowd, people on people and the sight made you nauseous, especially when you locked eyes with someone that was kissing or grinding on each other. You wanted to be able to do those sorts of things, but at the same time it scared you, almost disgusted you. But the sting of alcohol in your cup that you barely drank made everything worse. The situation altogether was just too much for you.

“Now look at that, am I high or is the notorious Y/N at our place?”

You cursed to yourself when you recognized his voice.

“Fuck off, Choi.” was the first and only thing that you could think of while still scrolling mindlessly through your apps to appear busy.

He slides into the seat Mijung left empty just a few minutes ago. “Now, you know that doesn’t affect me. I just wanna talk a bit. I’m not feeling getting hammered tonight if I’m being honest.” He started a conversation and you forced yourself to look at him. He looked too good to be true with his messy hair and black shirt and jeans. But you ignored his visuals in order to give him a strict look.

“And what do you wanna talk about? We never talk. And I’m not gonna be here for much longer anyways.” You explained and San rose and eyebrow at your comment. “Oh? So we’re do you plan on going?”

You didn’t know, since Mijung was left so early, you haven’t given it any thought other than going back home, even if it was too early to leave, but yet dark outside.

“Home. To my dorm. I hate places like this.” You looked away, and he noticed your discomfort. The atmosphere was really awkward between the two of you. As a result you turned slightly away from him.

He sighs, “You know, we can go somewhere quiet.” You adamantly shake your head at his suggestion, “no, I’m not going anywhere with you. You’re aware of your reputation and so am I. I’m not doing that.” you spat disheartinly, assuming it was another one of his attempts to get into your pants. But surprisingly, it wasn’t.

“No, you listen now,” he took hold of your arm and twisted you back to face him. “You’re uncomfortable here, I can see that. I’m taking you to my room. And not to get with you, but because I promised Wooyoung to take him home when he’s completely wasted tonight. I can take you home then alongside him.” he says and his brows furred a little.

Wooyoung was someone you trusted, so if he trusted San to take him home when he’s completely shitfaced, then maybe you could also trust him? All alarms went off in your head telling you he was anything but trustworthy. But as you looked into his eyes, there was something genuine about his offer. But after a few moments of thinking, you gave him the benefit of the doubt: you complied and nodded, “okay, but just because Woo trusts you.” But that was enough for him.

He got up and urged you to come after him, walking up the stairs until the loud noises from the other people steadily died down. After the two of you entered his room, your nervousness und sense of awkwardness disappeared again. Even if it was San, you were used to him, to his presence. And it was better then to be lost and alone downstairs.

“Make yourself feel at home.” He introduces you when he plops down at his bed, while you took a closer look around his personal space. There were plenty of books on his shelf, a flag hung up on the wall, and the desk was messy in books and other stuff he used frequently. To be honest, you imagined his room to be more messy, but it was just a kind of creative chaos.

The silence in his room was thick. He watched your movements closely for a while, but you tried to give him not much attention, even if you felt his stares linger on you. Minutes passed until he started to speak up again:

“Do you mind if I ask you something? I’m kinda curious, y’know.”

You turned around and look into his eyes, that are loosely hidden behind his dark strains of hair over his forehead. Arms pushed behind him on the bed to support his upper body, leaning back. You walk back a little until you sit down in a giant bean bag that was in the center of the small room. While you adjust yourself you look over to him once again, signaling him to continue talking. He sits up a little, leaning forward, elbows resting on his thighs.

“You know, any other girl would beg me to fuck them if they were in your spot. Why are you so determined to do anything but that?”

Taken aback, you knew San was bold, but you didn’t expect him to go there, especially not at this time, when he offered a hide out for you so considerably. Shrugging your shoulders you dip your chip to your chest and try to figure out a way to answer his question.

“I’m, uhm, I’m... it’s just not my thing.” You stutter out, and you are pretty sure you have an aura of uncertainty surrounding you. Of course, San picks up on it:

“Wait, not your thing? What kinda guy did you sleep with that make you think that way about sex? Or girl?” His facial expressions clearly confused, not yet understanding your reasoning.

You stayed silent. Because you couldn’t muster to say the truth: you haven’t. Yes, you were a still a virgin, in college. Nobody knew other than Mijung, not even any of your closest friends. And the fact that San was this close to discovering your secret, or probably already did, made you anxious.

“Mmh, I get it now. You never got laid. Not even once in your life. Am I Right?” He assumed and hit the nail right on the head. You wanted to cuss him out, hit and slap him, but that would only prove him right. The blush that crept on your face was answer enough for him. He stood up from his place on the bed to sit back down next to you on the floor. You couldn’t look at him, because of the pure humiliation he’s putting you through, trying to get swallowed by the fuzzy material of your seat.

“So that’s the reason you’re acting like this most of the time: you have never gotten any action together than with yourself. How am I only just now figuring this out?” He chuckles, having you in a spot were you couldn’t get out as easy as you’d like. Still not opting to speak, gnawing at the inside of your cheek instead, but you don’t need to anyway, because he continues to piece the evidence together.

“Wooyoung once mentioned you had strict parents, you know. Judging by how you act around your friends, I didn’t think you’d care about what they thought, no? You’re well past the age of being ‘daddy’s good girl’. And also by the way you throw shallow insults at me every time we are in the same room, I can tell you that you’re anything but the nice girl your parents want you to be. That’s not the real you. But Y/N, you know it’s your life? You can do whatever you want? If you want to take drugs, take them. If you want to smoke, smoke. If you want to get dicked down, then for fucks sake get some! You’re old enough to make your own decisions.”

Stunned by his rant, you scanned his face for any signs of emotions, but it was really hard to tell what was going on in his head. He sighs and dips his chin to the side, before finding your eyes again, taking your hand into his rough ones. The physical touch had a certain effect on you, and you wanted to be closer to him. Your future self your probably slap yourself in the face for this, but right now you got lost in his dark eyes and deep stare. Feeling vulnerable under the intensity of his gaze, not knowing what to do or say. Taking a quick breath, you uttered under your breath “where is this going, San?” Against all expectations, he smiles.

“Anything that happens here, between you and I, nobody else is gonna know about it. Not a single soul.” His hand slowly start to wander up your arm, touching the skin of your neck and threads his fingers through the strains of hair that rest on your shoulder. You don’t feel anything other than the alarms in the back of your mind slowly subside and be replaced by other thoughts.

“Just tell me no and I’ll stop.” His voice comes out raspy and seductive, and it sends waves of arousal down your core, even if the only physical contact you two had was from his wandering hands. The thought excited you, and he had a point: you could do whatever you wanted, and up until now, the consequences would keep you from giving into him. But there are no worries of the sort holding you back anymore, and if it was only for tonight, so be it. He was to strong, his effect was too strong.

His eyes never leave yours, until you give him an answer.

“Yes, okay. Yes I want it. I want you to show me what I’m missing out on.” You brace yourself for whats coming next, but nothing could prepare you for what he had in mind. He grabs your hips to lift you up, and in shock your arms fly to grab his shoulders. He settles you down in his lap, hands immediately find your ass and grips the flesh through your jeans. You both lean forward, hot breath mixing and hitting your faces. That was until San looses his patience just a few seconds later and presses his lips onto yours. And it wasn’t like anything you have ever felt before.

The two of you move in sync for what feels like ages, his tongue entering your mouth and taking the lead as he continues to grip your waist and butt to draw a few whimpers out of you. Your fingers found their place in his nape and gripped his hair as you busied your mouth with his. He breaks the kiss and moves down towards your neck and starts to suck on your skin, making marks blossom in shades of red and purple.

“If you want this to be a secret, you should make sure to cover up your marks later, because I’m not letting you go without adding my mark to your beautiful, beautiful body.”

Eyes blown out in lust, and you died in anticipation. He sucked more and more hickeys until he was satisfied with the finished product. He lifted his head up again and you wanted to kiss him again.

But then, you heard something hit the door from the outside, followed by a thud and a load groan. “San-ah! Let me in, I need to -“

—

#wow idk why either just go with it #ateez #ateez au #ateez fic #ateez writing #ateez x reader #ateez san #choi san #ateez smut #ateez suggestive #san x reader #san x you #san fluff #san smut

[honeypiehotchner]

coming out -- Hotch’s Daughter!Reader headcanon

Just a lil thing I wrote to comfort myself because sometimes I wonder a little too much about how different I’d be if I had a better coming out experience a.k.a. if Aaron Hotchner was my dad he would’ve been a lot nicer to me

(Also it’s in hc format because I am too exhausted to write a full blown fic right now, love y’all though xx.)

Summary: Hotch adopted you when you were 17 and he’s been nothing but the best Dad anyone could ask for. You’re 19 now and a freshman in college, and you have something important to tell him. Thanksgiving break is coming up soon and...you invited your girlfriend to spend the week with you.

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, one mention of being too anxious to eat

you’d be a nervous fucking wreck

who wouldn’t be, though?

even when you know the person is supportive, you’re still nervous. when you came out to your best friend, you were trembling like crazy, even though she’s never once been anything but supportive of the lgbtq+ community

all that aside, your dad is different

he’s pretty closed off at times, but you expected that when he adopted you

he’s a single dad, raising a young son, and for some reason decided to add you, a seventeen year old girl into the mix

you’re nineteen now, and in your freshman year of college, which means you’ve gone through a lot of self-exploration

and in the short period that you’ve been on your own, you’ve realized something

you like girls. like a lot. like, so much so that you have a girlfriend, and you’ve been dating her for seven months now

and you invited her home for thanksgiving

in your defense, she has nowhere else to go, because her family is from out of the country, and they don’t celebrate thanksgiving

you want her to experience the holiday for the first time, and when she mentioned wanting to spend it with someone she loves, you blurted out the offer

the only problem is, your dad has no idea she’s coming home with you

thanksgiving break starts in two days

on a last minute, impulsive, “if i don’t tell him right now i will throw up everywhere” decision, you drove to your dad’s office

the BAU is only a thirty minute drive from your dorm, so you visit your dad every other week or so

it’s a Wednesday and it’s barely 2pm, so you know he’ll be there

but he doesn’t expect you at all

he’s in the middle of a phone call when you knock on his office door, and his facial expression is more than shocked when he sees its you standing there

you stretch out on the couch like you’ve done countless times when you didn’t want to be alone at home and Jack was off with friends

Hotch can tell something is eating you, so he tries to hurry the phone call along as quick as he can, and soon he’s hanging up

“hey you,” he says, standing and rounding the desk to give you a hug

you gladly accept it, wrapping your arms around his middle

you never really used to like hugs, but his have always made you feel safe

that and Jack loves hugs, so you kind of had to get used to them with him being your little brother

“surprise,” you chuckle nervously

having a profiler for a dad means that absolutely nothing gets past him, but he’s done his best since adopting you to not push subjects that you don’t want pushed

but occasionally, when he can see how badly something is hurting you to keep inside, he breaks that rule

just like he does today

“what’s going on?” he asks, sitting in one of the chairs across from the couch, letting you stretch back out

“well,” you pause to clear your throat, “you know how thanksgiving is next week?”

“yes,” he nods. “you’re on break, right?”

“mhm,” you confirm. “all week.”

“Jack will like having you back home all the time.”

“i’ll like getting to spend more time with him,” you smile, having forgotten about that. Hotch will still be working up until Wednesday, and then will probably be back Friday, but you and Jack can fill the other days easily, especially since it’s been a while

“was that all?” Hotch asks, knowing it wasn’t

“well,” you say again; it’s your nervous tell. “how would you feel if i...invited someone over?”

“like a friend?” he asks, and you nod hesitantly. “i don’t see why not.”

“okay,” you exhale. that was easy enough, but it wasn’t the truth. not completely. “what if it’s a girl?”

Hotch chuckles quietly. “it can be a girl, a boy, or anyone. i don’t mind. as long as they don’t mind an air mattress to sleep on and a little brother running around.”

“what if...what if she slept in my bed? with me.”

silence.

but then he smiles. “that’s okay too.”

“you’re not mad?” you ask.

“why would i be mad?” he asks seriously. “is she your girlfriend?”

“...yes.”

“for how long?”

“seven months,” you blurt. “and is it okay if she’s here all week? her family is from out of the country, so she can’t exactly go anywhere else, and i panicked because i love her and i invited her--”

“it’s okay, Y/N, slow down,” he says softly. “yes, she can stay the whole week.”

“thank you,” you murmur, chewing on your lower lip, and stopping when you see your dad tap his own lip

it’s a small thing he’s done for you since he adopted you. if you’re chewing your lips or cheeks, he quietly taps his

“you’re not mad or...weirded out or anything?”

“not at all,” he says. “truthfully, i’m surprised it took you this long to tell me. i knew you were seeing someone.”

“what?!” you gasp. “how could you even tell?”

“the tone of your voice,” he confesses. “i could tell when she would be there, but i didn’t know who and i didn’t want to bring it up. you don’t have to tell me everything and i knew you’d tell me whenever you were ready. but i knew someone was making you happier.”

“well,” you half laugh, half scoff. “i can’t believe you. but i don’t know why i’m surprised-- hang on, did you already know i was gay?”

he shrugs. “i had my suspicions, but again, i knew you would tell me when you were ready -- if there was anything you wanted to tell.”

“oh my god,” you cover your face with your hands. leave it to your dad to make such a nerve-wracking situation become classically embarrassing. “are you kidding me? i swear to god.”

“on an unrelated note,” he laughs, “would you like to go out to dinner with her tonight?”

you furrow your eyebrows, lowering your hands. “yeah? her and i always do?”

“it’s on me,” he says. “use the credit card.”

“the card is for emergencies.”

“then consider this an emergency.”

“dad.”

“yes daughter?”

that always irritates you when he does that, but you smile anyway. “thank you. for being the best, always,” you roll your eyes with a laugh, always dramatic.

“thank you for sharing this part of your life with me,” he says sincerely. “oh, and i’m still giving her a hard time when she’s over.”

“what? no!”

“it’s my duty.”

“i will lock you out of the house.”

“i’ll kick the door down.”

“be nice to her,” you say seriously. “i really like her.”

“i know,” he smiles. “do you want to stay for lunch since you’re already here?”

oh, right, you haven’t eaten yet. you woke up anxious as hell about telling him, so you haven’t had any food today. “please,” you chuckle. “is garcia here?”

he nods, “in her office.”

“sweet,” you grin. “i’ll be back later with food.”

“okay,” he laughs, watching you practically bounce off the walls now that you’ve been relieved of that big secret. “hey, Y/N?”

you turn around. “yeah?”

“i love you.”

you smile wide, practically throwing yourself in his arms this time. “i love you too, dad.”

#aaron hotchner #hotch #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner hc #daughter!reader #fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds hc #criminal minds headcanon #self indulgence at its finest #tbfh #aaron hotchner & daughter!reader #this is what i call coping #oops #i’ve wanted to write this for so long #idk why it took me so long to get out #but regardless #i hope this brings someone some comfort #i know it did while i wrote it #fluff #good vibes #lgbtq+ #lgbtq+ community

[caramelcal]

Slow Down

Request(s):  Ooooooo could you do a Luke x reader fic based on the song Slow Down by Why Don’t We?

+  Anonymous said:Luke x reader? He’s on tour halfway across the world but all he can think about is spending time with his girlfriend?

Word Count: 2.1k!

a/n: hey! i know that this doesn’t fully cover the second request so if you want something completely based off of that, just request again! Thanks for requesting anyway and I hope you enjoy! Also did you guys see Madi’s lives today??? The cake decorating??? THE COVER?? MY EARS ARE B L E S S E D  update: not me forgetting to add tags

Masterlist

Oh, I've been lying to myself and I might know why I miss the way you looked at me before you left New York (hey) I've been tryin' to find help, 'cause I can't deny The way that I feel when I'm with you Oh, I'd do anything to save ya

He could hear the fans screaming in excitement, the overall chatter of them but he couldn’t enjoy it at the moment. How excited they were to see the band. He was filled with nerves, and even though he was born to perform as many would say, he still couldn’t help feeling nervous.

It was no surprise that Julie and the Phantoms had gotten big, their music was amazing. After they played at the Orpheum, they got a lot of recognition and only ten months later they were whisked up on a tour, a new album out only a month ago gone viral. Everyone loved them, and they were finally living their dream.

Luke loved performing, it was second nature to him, but being on tour was very different from playing in the garage with the band like he was used to. So whilst he basked in the glory of the fans, there were still nerves and that’s what he felt right now.

Checking his phone, his foot tapped against the floor at a rapid pace, his guitar sitting to his right. Normally, playing his guitar would comfort him, but it wouldn’t right now, that’s why he needed you.

And thankfully, his worries that you weren’t going to answer as he heard your calming voice through his phone, “Hello?”

“Babe,” Luke replied, breathing out a sigh of relief when he let the nerves out of his body.

“Luke? Aren’t you supposed to be on stage right now?” You started, and he could hear the worry in your voice, “Is everything alright.”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Just nervous, that’s all. We’re just about to go on,” Luke informed you, eyes staying on the ground as he simply focused on you and not any of the fuss around him. Backstage concerts were always crazy like this, especially just before they started. No doubt someone would be through in a second to pester him about getting ready to go on stage.

“Luke, babe,” You said, your voice calming as you spoke to your boyfriend. You knew he was going to absolutely kiss it out there, he did every single time he performed, “You’re going to be amazing, okay? I’ve never met anyone as talented as you and the rest of the band. I’ll be cheering you on all the way from California.”

That brought a smile onto Luke’s face, making him bend down his face so he was facing the ground. He didn’t like everyone to know just how in love he was with you, and the beaming smile on his face would be a clear indication. It wasn’t like he was very good at hiding it anyway, he constantly talked about you, somehow managing to praise you like you were a god even if you did a simple task. He was completely and utterly in love with you, no one could deny that.

“Thanks, babe, I miss you so much. I will find time to see you at some point,”

“You better, I miss you too. Plus, who else am I supposed to jam with in the car when you aren't here?” You joked, laughing lightly with Luke.

Luke casts his hazel eyes up to the figure in front of him after catching on to the very professional shoes that stood just in front of him, catching eyes onto his manager, “Listen I gotta go, but I’ll call you tonight, okay? I love you.”

“Love you too, my rockstar,” You said teasingly, knowing that it always made Luke flustered when you called him that. It wasn’t long before you guys had finished saying goodbye and his phone was turned off and put away, guitar in hand as he was ushered on stage.

Yet, just before he got on stage, he stopped, whispering, “This is for you, y/n/n. I love you.”

And with that, he ran out, and the fans erupted into screams and cheers.

I think we need a little California 'cation We took a shot at this, but maybe we're too wasted It's hard to swallow, but I know we gotta chase it, oh

Slow down, I think that we just need to slow down, slow down  Turn around, things were so simple way before now, 'fore now

Turns out, that even if Luke did want to meet up, that the tour was far too demanding for that. It was two months since the time you called, and you guys still haven’t had the chance to meet up. Hell, you guys barely had time to facetime. Luke was on constant vocal rest, and the times he normally was available, you were in class.

It was safe to say, the distance, and the different time zones were definitely getting to you. Some people were too, saying how people go off on tours and lose feelings if their girl stays back home, they often find flings and extra stuff like that. You knew Luke wasn’t like that, and both Carrie and Flynn have cussed the girls out for putting that in your head when it was obviously not true, but you couldn’t help but think about it sometimes.

Luke barely picked up your calls anymore, and you knew that what he was doing was very time demanding, but you thought that at least he would make a bit of time for you. You guys did text of course, but you often wouldn’t get around to replying to each other until hours after so it wasn’t a stable conversation. You thought about flying out for a weekend, or taking a few days out of school and flying somewhere to meet him, but your college student finances were not stable enough for that and you didn’t want anyone’s help, not even Carrie’s when she offered.

After being deprived of your boyfriend for so long, you often found yourself wallowing alone in your college dorm, but that wasn’t where you were right now. Flynn and Carrie had somehow managed to drag you outside to a party, a red solo cup in your hand and a fancy top on with some nice jeans. You contemplated drinking but found yourself denying any alcohol that went your way, getting drunk probably wasn’t the most responsible way to go.

Yet, as you saw the couples, some sweet ones holding hands or hugging, and some a little more...heated, you couldn’t help but drown in the thoughts of him. This was supposed to be a distraction from your wallowing, but you felt even more miserable here than you did back in your dorm room. You wouldn’t be for long though, not when you found out who was here.

See ya, I wanna see ya, ah  I wish you weren't so far so I could see ya, ah  'Cita, mamacita  We were comfortable, we didn't understand but now we know

Two weeks before the party, Flynn found herself on her bed, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram before her phone went. She quickly answered, seeing Julie’s face pop up on the small screen with a smile. They talked for a while, just catching up and Julie shared some concert and fan stories before she asked, So how is everyone? Carrie? y/n?”

“Carrie’s doing good, Dirty Candy is slowly getting some recognition for themselves, I see a tour in their future,” Flynn said with a smile, trying to distract Julie from the subject of y/n. She knew that most likely, the boys would be close by, and she did not want to tell them how miserable she was without them. That would only damper their moods.

“That’s so cool! I’m really glad, they deserve it. How’s y/n?” Julie asked, a smile on her face but as she looked at the hesitation on her best friend’s face, she knew something was wrong, “Flynn, is y/n okay?”

However, Flynn quickly found out that her silence was not helping her in any way, and when Julie asked about y/n again, Luke who playing about with his guitar in the corner of the room caught onto her concern. He stood up, alarm flooding his features as he walked over, taking the phone from Julie.

When his face showed up on the video call, Flynn could see his concern and worry and it made her eyes go wide. She knew there was no getting out of this, “What’s up with y/n?”

“Nothing, she’s fine,” Flynn tried her best to dismiss, laughing awkwardly but when she looked back to the camera she could tell that Luke was not buying it.

“Flynn.”

“Really! She’s-”

“Flynn! You do realize this is my girlfriend?” Luke said, raising his voice slightly to get the girl to stop rambling, which she did. Luke was only growing more concerned for his girlfriend and annoyed at the girl for trying to keep something about his girlfriend away from him, “I wanna know what’s going on with her.”

“She’s just,” Flynn hesitates, trying to think of a way to make this easier on Luke without lying to him but she realizes that she needs to be straightforward with the guy. Sighing, she starts, “y/n misses you to the point that she holes herself up in her dorm, and only comes out for food and classes. Hell, she hardly gets out of her pajamas anymore, Luke. She’s taking this a lot harder than she’s telling you.”

Luke went quiet, a frown forming on his face when he realized what his girlfriend was doing. He knew that she couldn’t keep going on like that; he still had another two months left of the tour and she would have wasted months of her life locked in her dorm. He casts a glance towards Julie, before looking back at Flynn, “I’ll sort this out. I’ll send you the details once I work them out but clearly, something needs to change.”

And with that, Flynn hung up and Julie and Luke started to plot a plan...

I think we need a little California 'cation We took a shot at this, but maybe we're too wasted It's hard to swallow, but I know we gotta chase it, oh

Slow down, I think that we just need to slow down, slow down  Turn around, things were so simple way before now, 'fore now Slow down, I think that we just need to slow down, slow down (need to slow down, slow down, whoa) Turn around, things were so simple way before now, 'fore now (things were so simple way before now)

“Y/n!” Carrie calls out, grabbing your attention from the red solo cup in your hand. You look up at her, giving her a small weak smile.

“Hey, Carrie,”

“You enjoying the party?” She asks, hands on her hips as she looks around the room with a smile on her face. She had a fitting golden dress on, much fancier than what you were wearing but you didn’t care.

You tried to wrack your brain for what to say, and how not to offend Carrie about her party. Her party wasn’t bad, you just...didn’t want to be there, “Uhh, it’s alright, yeah.”

“Well it’s about to get a lot better,” Carrie says, a wide smile coming on her face as she looked behind you, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

Then, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You whirled around and saw him take a few steps away, a wide smile on his face. You stood there, shocked, this couldn’t be real, he was on tour. He wasn’t here, he couldn’t be.

But then, you sprinted, jumping into his arms, head leaning against his shoulder with your legs around his waist. He held you close to him, savoring the moments of you just being in his arms; something he had not got to experience in months.

Everyone at the party watched on but didn’t say anything, fond smiles on their faces for the reunited young couple. For you and Luke, however, it seemed as if you two were the only ones in the room, because no one else mattered at that moment.

You pulled your head up from his shoulder, eyes meeting his as the wide smiles that were on your faces only growing wider, never fainter. When you next spoke your voice was quiet, almost as if you believed if you spoke too loudly he would go away, you would realize this was just a dream, “Luke, you- you’re here.”

“I am y/n/n,” He whispered back, nodding his head as he leaned in and softly kissed your hips, your hands going to each side of his face, playing with the soft messy hair that he had. With eyes shut, you stayed in each other’s embrace, simply enjoying the moment, “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Don’t leave me for so long ever again, I can’t live my life without you.”

Let's just say, you two were never parted for too long after that.

#luke julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms #charlie gillespie #jatp #luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #luke jatp #julie and the phantoms x reader #julie and the phantoms luke #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie x y/n

[thisnoodlewritesao3]

Regrets | Yamaguchi Tadashi/Reader

Characters: Reader, Yamaguchi Tadashi, Tsukishima Kei. Mentioned: Hinata Shoyo, Kageyama Tobio, Oikawa Tooru, Ushijima Wakatoshi, Tendou Satori

Pairings: Tsukishima Kei/Reader, Yamaguchi Tadashi/Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentioned emotional abuse, swearing (lmk if I missed anything)

Word Count: 2560

Summary: After the downfall of your relationship with Tsukishima Kei, Yamaguchi stays behind to pick up the pieces.

A/N: Look, I know I haven't posted in a while, and this isn't the ONE THING I NEED TO POST. But that will be done soon. I was having issues with google docs, and anxiety, and AAAAAAH but! we will be back to our regularly scheduled nonsense soon hehe. Anyway, have some pain. Also! Big thank you to @pies-writes-and-more for briefly Beta-Reading and then I went off on one hehe. Sowwy

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There are a few things you know, for certain, in this world: love is a fickle thing, pizza is the most comforting food, and Yamaguchi Tadashi had done few things wrong in his life.

And yet here you sit, with your back pressed against your bedroom door and knees pulled close to your chest, tears stinging your cheeks with such aggression you briefly fear they might be acid. He’s on the other side of the door, probably in a similar position, mumbling his most sincere apologies for your current heart ache.

But why?

You ask yourself this so often when it comes to him. Why is he always the first to apologise? Why is he apologising to begin with? This wasn’t his issue. It didn’t matter what you said, he would still apologise, because that’s just how Yamaguchi Tadashi was.

Sure, he had his behind-your-back snarky remarks and that mischievous giggle you’d hear when he was around. But on the inside, oh so deep inside, he was just as weak and as vulnerable as you were.

You knew it wasn’t his fault, yet you couldn’t stop the words flowing from your lips.

I wish I’d never met you.

You don’t mean it. Not really. Well, it was more like you wished he’d never introduced you to him. According to him, he’d wanted you to be his little secret for just a little while longer. So he could protect you for just some more time. But as fickle as love is, so was that.

You can still remember, clear as day, the night you’d met Yamaguchi.

He was walking outside your family restaurant with two other first year boys. Just outside of the front was yet another ever so loud “conversation” between Aoba Johsai’s pretty boy - Oikawa Tooru - and Shiratorizawa’s powerhouse - Ushijima Wakatoshi. The resident redhead who’d often stop by your restaurant with soft apologies and sorrowful gaze - Tendou Satori - was cringing behind Ushijima. If it hadn't been for the surprise visit of Yamaguchi and his first year friends, you might never have gotten rid of the pair that night.

They didn’t say much, but the tall first year with the black hair seemed to piss off Oikawa enough to make him leave. And - for whatever reason - Ushijima was either intimidated or annoyed by the smaller first year with vibrant orange hair.

As Tendou apologised, you locked eyes with Yamaguchi. To say the rest was history would be the easy thing to say. But you weren’t too good at doing things easily.

It was too often you’d see this particular green haired boy appear in your restaurant, looking a little intimidated, but elated nonetheless.

You’d entertain him with small conversation about your life and about his. For whatever reason, time seemed to pass by so easily when he was around. The two of you clicked well, sharing these weekly dinners together like they were your most solid form of comfort.

Until one day, Yamaguchi brought a friend. Brought him.

Tsukishima Kei was the perfect example of everything you shouldn’t love, but that only makes you love him harder. He’s cocky, arrogant enough to be tolerable - unlike Oikawa - a bit more difficult to talk to. A lot of work. It really was a shame you liked things that were challenges.

Because Yamaguchi was easy. Maybe that’s what drew you more to his tall friend.

All smirks and side glances, snide remarks about your food or the restaurant itself. You almost wanted to kick him out right then and there. But you had a soft spot for Yamaguchi, so you let the boys stay.

That would be your first mistake.

Your second was something so seemingly innocent, yet it would be your complete and utter downfall in the end. Your second would be falling for Tsukishima Kei. Hard and fast, with no mercy or care in the world. No time to think about your feelings when your thoughts were filled with him.

Tsukishima Kei was everything that Yamaguchi wasn’t. He was hard to have conversations with, harsh on his wise remarks about you, and time with him went by in a second. You had no chance to reflect on the things you’d said or the way his tone of voice shifted between words; it was over just as quickly as it started.

At first, you took it as a good sign.

You thought that it meant you enjoyed his company so much that it would be over so quick. Even when you tried to think of it as the most boring thing you’d ever done, it didn’t work. Not when he turned and looked at you with that smirk. Not when you blinked and he was grabbing his things to go.

Of course, you didn’t even take a second to think that maybe the reason time went so fast was because he was leaving so much earlier than Yamaguchi would. But as you continued to work, you didn’t think about it. Especially not when your heart skipped a beat when your eyes met.

"It's all my fault." Yamaguchi leaned his head back against the door a little too hard, the noise making you wince.

"It isn't." You said, because it wasn’t his fault. Well, it wasn’t all his fault. Even a blind man could see that. You aren’t even sure how you manage to keep your voice so strong, but you know that it won’t happen again.

“It is.” And this time, you didn't stop his explanation. “When I found out he liked you, I knew he wasn’t going to be good for you. But I saw how your eyes lit up around him, and you’d been talking about him for two years so… I didn’t stop him. I didn’t tell him you deserved more than this. More than what he could give you.” He paused, probably running his hand through his hair. “And then you’d talk about the things he’d do like they were normal, like you were laughing. Like you were begging me to make you stop it.” And he was right. Because you were. Because you hoped he’d see the signs and make you turn around. You probably wouldn’t have listened though. “I’m not going to say I could have treated you better because that isn’t for me to decide. But I will say that I wish I’d never introduced you to him.” He shuffled behind the door, probably getting up to leave. “You know, Y/N, you deserved so much more than that. You are worthy of more than that.” He assured you, and you could only laugh - it really didn’t feel like that right now.

As he left you alone, you wanted to scream more for him to come back, but you knew it was for the best. Yamaguchi was his friend first. You were barely an afterthought in the grand-scheme of things.

Every night you lay awake, panic sewn into your skin that he’d show up, begging you for forgiveness, begging you to take him back, and you lived with the fear that you would do exactly that.

Why?

Because you hated the thought of him being hurt. Hated the idea that, even after everything he’d done to you, you still couldn’t put yourself first.

And, after all this time, there was only one person you could call when things got bad.

Yamaguchi had gotten pretty good at putting on a brave face around Tsukishima when the other first years he’d shared his high school experience were around, but when the pair were left alone, he didn’t have a good thing to say to the blond.

“You really stopped clinging to Tsukishima,” Hinata said in passing one day, almost making the green haired boy hurl. Because if only they knew why. If only they’d seen what he’d seen. If only they’d heard your cries when everything happened.

Instead of answering directly, Yamaguchi just shrugged and laughed lightly, closing his eyes for fear they’d betray him with his true emotions. “Just thought I should start living for myself. You know, you can’t rely on someone forever.” When he opened them again, Tsukishima was looking the other way, lips pressed into a thin line.

“Come on, Tadashi.” Tsukishima called out to him; it was one of those days they’d all planned to be here together, but life happens, and it left Tsukishima with a very pissed off Yamaguchi. “God, you need to stop being such a pussy. Who even cares about her anyway?” Tsukishima asked him, his tone of voice making it very clear that he hated this topic.

It stopped Yamaguchi in his tracks. Because he cared about you. He was there for you. He saw the aftermath, the way you almost refused to tell him what had happened with a serious tone; he saw the light in your eyes shatter and break, and the confident girl he’d known was gone.

You were gone because of the man behind him right now. He clenched his fists, trying to calm the increase of his heartbeat. Trying to resist the urge to punch him in the face. Trying to find the words that would make this boy understand what he’d done.

“Just because you never cared, doesn’t mean other people didn’t.” Yamaguchi spat, walking away from Tsukishima.

He would come to you every time you called him, late at night, early in the morning. Whenever. Wherever. It didn’t matter. Not when you curled up in your bed with your head pressed into his chest, tears staining his shirt and assuring him it would be another long night.

He’d do anything you’d ask, if he were being honest, but you never asked him more than that. For him to stay the night and hold you was all you ever needed, and he thought you were brave for being able to admit just that.

Slowly, you were getting better.

And then you called one evening, crying so hard, voice so filled with panic that he practically ran to your dorm- no, he did run. His legs were burning, his lungs squeezing closed with every sharp exhale. But he was here.

And so was Tsukishima.

The blond was knocking on your door, cheeks tear-stained in the most pathetic way as he begged you to let him inside. Yamaguchi had never been more proud of you; in this moment, you were going against everything your body told you to do.

Yamaguchi acted on instinct, pushing Tsukishima away from your door, and he tumbled onto the ground, looking up at his friend who radiated rage. His blood was boiling, any pain throughout his body long forgotten because you needed him to protect you. To do what he should have done years ago.

“What are you doing here?” Tsukishima didn’t bother pulling himself up, not yet, not when every muscle in Yamaguchi’s arms flexed, threatening him just enough. But Yamaguchi actually hurt him? He actually needed to think about that; right now, it really looked like it.

“I was actually invited.” Yamaguchi hissed behind gritted teeth. Had his senses ever been so awake? He didn’t think so. Pure adrenaline rushed through his veins. “What are you doing here?”

It almost felt wrong to talk to Tsukishima this way - so wrong, yet so right - he didn’t understand why. Sure, when they met as kids, Tsukishima had never been the nicest to him. But he’d never been horrible either. Not the way he was to you - not the way he was to anyone else. It made him feel special, that Tsukishima’s friendship was special - no matter how wrong that was - and maybe when they got closer in high school, he let himself be blind for just a little bit longer. Because Tsukishima Kei called him cool, so wasn’t that a big deal? It shouldn’t have been.

“And what are you going to do?” Tsukishima asked, standing up slowly, he was watching Yamaguchi carefully, he could see the hesitation in the boy's eyes. So, maybe he did have the upper hand, or some sort of ground after all. “Because I really doubt you have it in you to hit me, Tadashi, so just move out of the way and let me talk to my girlfriend.”

That sat wrong with Yamaguchi and his glare hardened. He could hear you crying on the other side of the door, God, you must have been so scared. “She isn’t your girlfriend anymore.”

“Is she yours?” Tsukishima looked down on him, sneering. He already knew the answer.

“Why do you care so much? Because if I remember correctly, you’re the one that broke up with her. You’re the one that did this. And now you’re crawling back?” Yamaguchi scoffed, trying his hardest to make sure his walls weren’t going to break down, he could feel them crumbling already. “That’s pretty lame, Tsukki.”

“Because I fucked up.” Tsukishima rolled his eyes, hands shoved deep into his pocket.

“When did you fuck up exactly?” Yamaguchi stepped closer to him, pointing his finger at him almost violently. “Was it when you told her she wasn’t good enough for you? Was it when you tore her apart for your own entertainment? Was it when she opened up to you, and you shamed her for that? Or could it have been when you left her standing in the rain on your first anniversary? Maybe it was when you abandoned her at her own mother’s funeral because she ‘hurt your feelings’? God, I really just can’t pinpoint when you fucked up,” sarcasm dripped from his tongue as he grabbed Tsukishima by the shirt (when had he gotten so close?) pulling his face down until they met eyelines, “fucking enlighten me, Tsukishima!” He yelled. “You know what, Tsukishima, I think your biggest fuck up was following me to her restaurant, when I told you not to, all because you were bored.”

The tension held in the air was strangling them both. It was all a case of who would let go first - who would be the first one to back away?

They both knew the answer.

Tsukishima pushed Yamaguchi away, scoffing at the green haired boy, “I get it. You hate me.” He rolled his eyes, straightening out his shirt. “But I did care about her.” His voice was softer now, like he was scared that you’d hear him.

“Well,” Yamaguchi cleared his throat, “you have a really funny way of showing it.” They turned away from each other, not wanting to see the changes in their face. A silent agreement between them that things would never be the same. Maybe that was for the best.

When he was sure that Tsukishima had left the building, Yamaguchi reached a shaking hand out to your door.

Your soft whimpers were barely noticeable, but they were there. You opened the door, practically throwing yourself into his arms when you confirmed he was okay; you didn't ask what happened between the boys and he didn’t tell you.

Sure, you never liked doing things easily before, but right now, easy was what your heart needed. Yamaguchi took the lead in making sure you were getting help with the trauma; and he let you take the lead in your relationship.

And sure, you’d always regret the night you’d met Tsukishima Kei. But, no matter what you said, you would never regret the night you’d met Yamaguchi.

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[johobi]

Falling, Falling, Gone

Word count: 5.8k

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Warnings: None really, it’s my first ‘SFW’ fic, though there is some extremely bad language in here. And there might be an erection because I can’t help myself.

A/N: This is the fourth and final ‘drabble’ for the drabble game I ran ages ago. Prompt: “The thought of me making out with someone else is ruining you.”

Music inspo: Don’t Be So Serious, Baby Don’t Stop, Waste It On Me

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23477485

Taehyung. Captain of the soccer team. Master of your heart. You'll never tell him for fear of rejection.

So why the fuck are you about to do it in front of dozens of his peers?

Banana and peanut butter become pulp in your mouth as you glare out the kitchen window. It's so grey out there. Greyer than it has any right to be. As if your dour mood has polluted the very atmosphere. Rain lashes the exterior in leaden pellets, each one compounding your headache like a rap on the head. Don't be so serious, your bluetooth speaker croons as you chew and chew, unblinking. The bridge of your glasses slip further down your nose but you don’t correct them. Don't be so serious.

Oh, but it's all so serious. 

Your final portfolio lacks in ways your mentor is incapable of articulating, and you only have so much time to fix it. Your college life is coming to a close. There are frighteningly few opportunities out there and they’re sure to spurn a sham like you. What do you do now? Where do you go from here—

"God, you listen to such depressing music," a husky voice sounds. It’s thick with sleep and horribly attractive. You hear his feet next; big and bare as they slap the tile floor and disrupt the ambience. 

Yes, dismal is an ambience. 

Before you glimpse the interloper himself, his fingers pilfer your next mouthful of toast. His other hand has your phone and is skipping through your carefully curated playlist of moody tunes. With all the scant energy you can muster, you glower at him. 

“Taehyung.” 

Soccer captain. Campus celebrity. Doofus.

Unlikely friend and unlikelier crush. But life is strange, and he is both these things. Indeed, he proclaims himself your best friend to all who will listen. As for the matter of your tender feelings, however, he is oblivious. And will remain so.

Taehyung is long-legged and limber-bodied, but round of face and feature. A kitten in a tiger’s pelt. Will mew for affection and roar when angry. Has quite literally nudged your hand for pets and raged at referees in the same afternoon. There is usually no in-between. 

Your scowl goes unseen. He sidles past like the oblivious buffoon he is and continues to tamper with Spotify.  Smears his peanut-buttered thumb around your phone display. Ugh. You brush back your hood and fix him again with extra scorn.

"Actually, douchebag, it’s good music for thinking. And I have a headache. I hardly wanna listen to something like—no, don't you dare put fucking Party Rock on right now. Tae!"

It’s too late. The lanky idiot is already gesticulating to the beginning beats. Your phone is an unreachable hostage in his flapping hands. You’re about to lunge for it but he preempts the attack by smothering you with your own hood. “Tae.” Your whining sounds all the more pitiful muffled. “Everyfing hurfs. ‘m hungover. Pleathe.” 

Taehyung relents after further, strangled pleas. Unwraps you with a grin that grows like the sunrise. For a moment, you’re dazzled. “Sorry. No more torture,” he chuckles all low, hair in his eyes. His locks are long and always untamed. An aureate crown befitting of his celebrity status. 

One swipe and he’s muted the racket and returned your phone. You turn the sticky thing over in your hands, rueing the day you met the overgrown imp. “How did you get it this dirty…?”

You go ignored and Taehyung gets closer. He scrutinises your hunched and hoodied appearance with a thoughtful hum. “Headache?” A rounded nose and two brown eyes come into focus. "Hungover? How? I didn't see you go out last night."

Averse to such study, you shy away. "Well, I did." You did not. You stayed home and guzzled $4 Prosecco while lamenting your trash portfolio. But you aren’t about to regale him with that pitiful tale. The sheerness of shame prevents you. Taehyung would be so sweet about it, too! So buoying, with his sunny smiles and fervent encouragement: "Why were you crying over that?!" He'd ask. "Your work is amazing. Seriously amazing. I love everything you do!" He'd gush. "People will be stumbling over themselves to hire you!" He'd continue, naively. And that hurts the most, because he just doesn't get it. Taehyung is a sponsored, collegiate athlete that's graduating into a guaranteed draft. He is—and always has been—praised widely as up-and-coming. The kid has had scouts scrapping for him mid-way through high school!

You, however, are small fry, swimming in a shoal of other unknowns, leaping for the hook of internship. Your dreams of animating for Disney died long back. They dwelled with Walt now.

But you don’t resent Taehyung for any of it. Ever. He’s a paragon. Born for the limelight. Has sweat and bled oceans for it. And for some reason he insists that you, too, are deserving of that same renown. Why? He’s ridiculous. Far too kind. And—Christ, he has a big dick.

"Taehyung, can you please not shove your tiny fucking penis in my face while I'm trying to eat? I'm nauseous enough as it is."

The soccer captain rests a foot on the seat next to you, giving you ungainly insight into his crotch. Taehyung, as he often, inexplicably is, is clad only in his boxer-briefs. This would be alarming were it not so goddamn commonplace. He is allergic to clothes.

According to him, he’s a naturist. 

According to you, he’s an attention whore.

Taehyung points to his elevated foot, but it's a little difficult to ignore the bulge he's brandishing. "Do you understand the concept of inappropriate proximity and your current state of undress?" You rattle on, words slurred half by OJ, half by fluster. He simply points again, and with more insistence. Relenting, you follow the line of his finger to his pretty, if gigantic, foot. Then notice the ink around his ankle, black and fresh. "Oh, wow, you got a tattoo? Cool!"

"Yep! I didn't ever really think about getting one 'til I saw yours. They were so cool I became kinda obsessed with getting one. So I finally did it last night."

‘Til he saw yours? Your stomach flutters. It's not the nausea. You smother it with more orange juice. "Well, that's awesome, Tae. You'll probably want more eventually. I would've gone with you if I'd known you were gonna go alone."

Finally, he lowers his leg. It’s a small mercy. But then, for no discernible, earthly reason, Taehyung begins flexing his many defined muscles. His calves in particular catch your attention. They’re so goddamned thick. They ripple. Fucking soccer players. "Hm? Oh, I wasn't alone. I went with some guys from the team." He ogles his reflection in the microwave door.

How can you avert your eyes when his pecs dance so compellingly? It all becomes a bit too much. "Okay, what are you doing? Seriously, what? I know you're into yourself, but this is ridiculous.” He stops. Snorts. Thank God. “If you were with the guys, why did you come back here last night? I thought you’d go back to your dorm."

Finally Taehyung sits, but he’s spread-legged and that’s perhaps worse than what he was doing just now. He’s 6ft of pure, hewn sex and just so fucking casual about it. He reclines. "Some of them took girls home last night so I needed somewhere to go and you're always an open door." Finger guns follow a cheesy wink.

You scoff, but he's right. You’d do anything for the big-hearted clown. Open door? You'd be the doormat under his soccer cleats, licking them free of dirt— "You're lucky Areum isn’t here right now. Don't think she’d take kindly to having some almost-naked oaf clambering into her bed."

"You say that, but she’s tried to hit this several times.” Taehyung is smug, brows high on his forehead. Yours lower harshly. “Tell her I slept in her bed last night. She’ll cream herself thinking about it later, I guarantee you."

“You’re gross. And can you stop—why do you keep flexing? There’s just me here.” You peer about for emphasis. Taehyung is again admiring his form in some burnished surface. “No-one is looking. Or cares.” Contrarily, you’re doing both those things. But he needn’t be privy to that. 

"This is serious. I need to work on my angles.” He contorts himself into something of a pretzel to peek at his back muscles. “We're holding a hook-up auction at our dorm to raise money for a graduation blow-out. And I'm on sale. Do you think I need to work on my back?"

You ease into a squint. "When you said serious, I thought serious words were about to follow."

"I am being serious!" Again Taehyung flexes, biceps bulging by his ears like an overfed turkey’s thighs. "How much do you think I'm worth?"

The world.

"I dunno. I'd take you for free, I guess, if you were the last one left."

Taehyung is unperturbed by your acerbic wit. It ricochets off him like rubber bullets would a muscle-bound ox. He is your greatest adversary. The bastard lacquers his lips until they’re plump and glossy and boasting a smirk. 

He’s always doing this. 

Always moistening himself. 

"Oh yeah? Well, I think you'll be disappointed." A boxy smile emerges. "I got girls and guys already approaching me about it. Some of the guys literally just wanna buy me for mentoring. I mean, that’s more effort than kissing, but—" He shrugs. The thought goes unfinished.

"That makes sense. You are a God among these mere mortals, Taetae." It's not sarcasm this time. Taehyung senses it. The grin he returns is life-affirming. You're so close to reaching across the table and squeezing his hand. Telling him you're proud. Telling him you most likely, maybe, love him. But you notice you've dragged your sleeve through peanut butter—”Ah, shit,”—and you can tell him how you feel some other day.

Some other day.

"Some of them just wanna make out too, of course, and, like, I'm happy to comply. It's all for charity." His altruism knows no limits.

"Charity, huh?" You snort. Taehyung's mouth grows more square at your incredulity. "Who else is up for bidding, then?"

"Mostly guys from the team and dorm. There are some mutuals who just wanna get in on the action, too. Uh, you know Kim Namjoon?" He measures your reaction. When you give none: "Jeon Jungkook?"

Disinterest mellows your features. "Oh, right. Cool."

"So you don't like Jeon Jungkook?" Taehyung's eyes are eager, his body poised. Anticipating.

"What? No. What gave you that idea? I've talked to him, like, twice." Your face crumples as you towel your soiled sleeve. The peanut butter smears into a tragic, shit-brown stain. "Damn, that's never coming out."

"He's gonna be so disappointed. He might even cry." Taehyung heaves a hammy sigh and clutches at his breast. There’s nothing the captain enjoys more than clowning his subordinates.  "Kook likes you so much. He's really into your whole androgynous fuckboi thing you got going on. He literally said, 'She's like a mystery, man. I'm not sure if she's a girl or a guy and—like, I'm not like that, but that's hot.'"

If your eyes could roll past the bounds of their sockets, they would. "Wow, what a poet. He sounds like a douchebag and I'm even less interested now. Fuckboi? Is that really the vibe I give off?" You don't fuck full stop. Nor were you aware you could dress like you do. 

"I dunno. You just seem kinda like a gremlin to me. Or like that weird guy from Death Note," Taehyung is quick to reassure you. Cool. You’re fucking overjoyed that he perceives you that way. Not as a goddess, or his beautiful, sexy soulmate, or the princess that wanders the spires of his captive heart. No. A gremlin. Or L.

"Well, you got me there, son."

"What about Kim Namjoon?" Taehyung presses, urgent again. He picks at your bread crusts with one hand, head cradled delicately in the other. The boy could be a world-class model, too. His loose, dark curls hang like a Van Gogh nightscape, framing the planes of his unmarred face. It hurts to look at him. It hurts to be looked at.

A self-conscious shuffle. "What about him? I don't know who that is." You flick away his foraging fingers but he draws you into an impromptu game of thumb-war in retaliation. It's the only thing to extract a smile from you today.

Taehyung looks sceptical. "He's the physio student with our team! You literally talked to him all day during this season's semi-final." His lengthy digits best yours easily. But though the match is won, he doesn’t withdraw his hand. Instead he encroaches further. Thumbs your wrist. Encompasses your knuckles in a soft, warm palm. He’s clasping you like an enamoured suitor might their bashful sweetheart, and it’s very strange. What is he doing? His mind looks to be elsewhere, now.

"Uh...—oh. Oh." Yours ambles back to you. "Yeah, he was really nice, but you know my rule. No—"

"—dating in final year. Yeah, I know. I'll tell him that if he asks about you again." Taehyung has returned, too. His hand is gone. Your gooseflesh ebbs with it.

With a cough, you sober. "I think the auction's a bit stupid, really, Tae. You sure you wanna do it?"

"Stupid? Why?" He shimmies in close, smug on his face and intolerably naked the rest of the way down. His skin is hot and golden and just far too close. "You're only saying that because you're jealous, right?" He tickles your chin to keep you honest and your eyes on him. You seize and squeeze the offending hand because he might be right and now you’re embarrassed. "The thought of me making out with someone else is ruining you," he goes on to say, brazen as the smirk defiling his cherubic cheeks.

"Some rather large conclusion-jumping going on there," you smile, sweet as sugared cyanide. Your vice-grip tightens until he’s pouting in repentance. "I meant it's stupid to put yourself in a potentially uncomfortable situation if you don't want to kiss that person." 

"I'm just joking!" he whimpers like the overlarge puppy he is and you free him of his snare. Because you would die for this big, soppy boy and his big, soppy eyes. “You’re so grouchy today.”

‘The joke won’t land if it collides with the truth, Taehyung,’ you muse. You expect him to know this despite never having apprised him of your situation. You’re jealous and cowardly and completely unreasonable. You want him for yourself but you never want him to know that. 

If he wants your candour he should be a telepath. Simple.

Irritated by your own nonsense, you lash out at the unsuspecting boy. "You know what? I was joking, too. I remember Namjoon, he was hot. And smart. I think I'll cheat on my dating ban this once and bid on him. He has super nice lips, so." 

Taehyung simply smiles. "Oh, okay. Cool! Glad you’re gonna come along." 

Your threat proves ineffective because he doesn’t like you like that. Wouldn’t give a shit if Namjoon rawed you on stage while you stared him down. You stall on that thought because it’s kinda hot. “It’ll be great. Can’t wait to get my tongue down his throat.”

“Hell yeah! I knew you liked him.”

Yep, Taehyung is oblivious to your pining. As he should be. Because outwardly, your pining consists of nothing more than the odd, lingering look here and there. The balled-up sketches of him he will never see. A secret smile if you’re feeling particularly sentimental. Other than that, you're steely. Poker-faced. Rarely blind-sided by his allure, especially now that you've acclimated to his penchant for exhibitionism. 

 "Thank you in advance for your patronage." Rising from his seat, Taehyung comes to a stand behind you and leans. Encircles your shoulders with his terribly athletic arms and puts his lips to your ear. You're like a feral cat in the arms of a senseless child. You're bristling. "If he turns out to be a jerk and tries something he shouldn't, I'll protect you." For a moment, you're touched enough to unclench a little. "With these guns." And then you choke between his straining biceps and vie to repay him in kind.

----

The common room of Taehyung's dorm has been crudely transformed. Some questionable construction has taken place in order to build the catwalk centrepiece. Sofas and tables line the walls, thrust from the limelight. You've occupied the drinks table for the last 45 minutes, from the second you entered this place. You harbour an intense dislike for the chaotic energy of Taehyung's dorm. Machismo rages noisily between these walls and you much prefer less testosterone-drenched environments. Nevertheless, despite it all you're here on an endeavour this evening. One your idiot, rampant mouth has obligated you to. To buy time with a guy that's perfectly nice and all, but isn’t Taehyung.

Kim Namjoon makes eyes at you from the head of the runway, awaiting his musical cue. The beer you just slurped down bubbles up. You have to look away. Unfortunately, when you do, Taehyung is immediately there, his face in yours, his thumb and fingers pulling at your cheeks. "Hey you, don't get too drunk, okay? I don't trust a single man here. Especially not nice-as-pie Namjoon." 

Nice-as-pie Namjoon has chosen some Bruno Mars track by the sounds of it. The auction-goers' excitement ramps up considerably.

Unable to move your captured face, your eyes sweep the room. "Not even your own teammates?" you scoff cynically, swatting at his hands until he’s baited into a game of slapsies. "Now who sounds jealous?" 

Taehyung stops for a moment, thoughtful. "You know, you're right. I'm extremely jealous. I want Namjoon all to myself. He gives the best massages. And a happy ending when I ask nicely." And then he's back to rough-housing you, slapping your upper arms to alternating beats. "You look cute tonight. Your outfit, I mean," he offers up out of nowhere, so quiet you almost lose it to the bass. "He's lucky."

But you look exactly the same as you did earlier that day. Exactly the same as that afternoon in the cafeteria when he ribbed you for raiding Billie Eilish's Good Will donations. "Um, thanks. I guess." You're genuine, but don’t sound it. You can't look at him for fear of revealing the dopey grin that has hijacked your face.

"You're welcome, buddy." A large palm flattens your hair. His fingers get all in there, ruffling it until it probably looks more akin a bird's nest. Is Taehyung trying to sabotage you? Also, buddy? "Look, Namjoon's walking." 

You turn and see that he is. Strutting, moreover, albeit awkwardly. It's obvious that the lanky boy is unaccustomed to the same attention the team he services is. Nevertheless, there are whoops and hollers aplenty for the handsome blonde dork, and you, too, catch yourself smiling. How can you not, when he pokes at his dimples so? The others seem captivated, too, though less by the  finger-hearts and more by his form-fitting tracksuit. 

“I’d wrap my car around a tree if he was the tree,” one auction-goer confides to her friend. “And then I’d wrap my legs around—”

“Yeah, we get it Lisa.”

Lisa quiets. 

Namjoon’s endless legs sidle to a stop at the catwalk's end, directly opposite you. His bespectacled eyes meet your bespectacled eyes. For one, long second, the interest is palpable.  But then he breaks, and casts his gaze down to his FILAs. 

"Okay, he's, like, in love with you, I think," Taehyung whisper-yells, hands aflurry in applause. "Are you gonna bid?"

Shouts puncture the cheering either side of the room.

"$10!"

"$20!"

Neither of them are you.

The evening’s auctioneer - Taehyung's partner-in-slime Park Jimin - echoes each cry that rings out, giggling into a tinny karaoke mic. "$20 for our team physio?! Is that all you got ladies and gents? Do I have to remind you this guy can grope away pain with his magic hands?"

Namjoon spins toward Jimin's makeshift podium of an upturned bookcase and menaces him with his eyes. Well, it would be menacing were the man not as threatening as a ribbon-wrapped basket of newborn sloths.

The striker backpedals. "Okay, the massage might not be included, but don't let that deter you! He kisses like a pro!"

Screams of how do you know that, Jimin?! erupt and the throng grows ever more wild. Namjoon is redder than the cup you're strangling.

"Are you gonna bid?! You're gonna miss your chance!" For some reason Taehyung is still here, harassment game still strong. He should be preparing to walk next, but sees fit to pester you instead. And because of that, he's caught you in your lie, bare-faced and blushing.

No, you are not going to bid on Kim Namjoon.

"Uh, oh no, I forgot my purse," you grumble around the rim of your next drink, gulping it down like the bottom is your way out of this God-awful situation.

Then what are you doing here?

"It's right there." Taehyung pokes the cross-body bag hanging traitorously by your side.

"Oh, is it?" You reach for another cup even while burdened with one. Anything to sidetrack this conversation.

Taehyung intervenes with a firm hand. Swaddles your knuckles ‘til the shaking stops. You’re shaking? Beer slops over the sides, unnoticed. “___?”

Stupid, warm hand. And why are his fingers so fucking delicate for a footballer? He should model jewellery. Wedding rings.

Yours.

His ringless fingers close around your wrist when you persist in avoiding his gaze. The ruse is almost up. Fuck. There’s nothing left to do but to look at him. 

You do, ever so timidly. “What?”

"What are you doing?" Puzzlement becomes him well. Why is he so goddamn handsome? "If you aren't gonna bid on Namjoon, why did you come?"

Silence, but for the pump of background Bruno Mars.

‘You. I came for you. You were the plan all along. Not him,’ your mind screams.

You, however, just stare.

"Going—going—gone! Sold for $70! Come claim your kiss!" Jimin can hardly stop himself from squealing. For a guy that beds girls on the daily, his sincere excitement over simple lip-locking is amusing.

Taehyung's teammates hail him from the drapery behind the catwalk but he won't yet go. No, he insists on searing holes into the side of your face while you watch Namjoon get sloppy on-stage with some girl you don't know. They're really getting into it. Damn, he forgot about you quick. In  their fervour they edge towards the bounds of the catwalk, too absorbed in one another to notice. Thankfully, voyeuristic bystanders are on-hand to catch them before they fall.

"Kim Taehyung! How many times do I have to call you?! Get over here before I kick your fucking ass," Jungkook roars across the hubbub, halfway through the room. He  enacts the violent gesture for emphasis and knees some unsuspecting girl in the ass. Immediately the macho facade drops and he's all doe-eyed and buck-toothed, prostrating himself before the girl who actually seems grateful to have been assaulted by one Jeon Jungkook. Between his hushed apologies, Jungkook shoots Taehyung a look something murderous. And then he sees you and throws a shy wave, the kind a little kid might when cajoled by his parents.

"Ew." The word comes up involuntarily, like bile.

A deep cackle emanates from beside you. "Okay, guess I'm up." Taehyung squares his shoulders. His mouth, too. He's a very angular boy. "Better get my kit on. Cheer for me!" With a pat to your shoulder, he makes for Jungkook. Leaves you with an insidious dread. His soccer kit is your weakness. 

No, he is your weakness.

"Next up - and I'm sure most of you here tonight are anticipating this guy - our very own Team Captain and soon-to-be Major League Soccer player, Kim Taehyung!" Banshee-shrieking reverberates at Jimin's announcement. "Stick around, he'll be out in a few minutes!"

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. You turn from the catwalk and fully embrace the drinks table, supporting yourself with two hands and God's grace.

Nah, you aren't gonna do this.

No way.

This wasn’t an actual plan. Just a fantasy.

You're not gonna tell him like this.

You're not gonna tell him ever.

All you have to do is just say you turned out to support him. You rarely get to go out with him anyway, what with his ever-growing entourage. Taehyung would appreciate that, and he'd never have to know that you came here for cornier purposes.

You're not a big gesture kind of girl.

Nah, you aren't gonna do this.

Distantly, you wished Areum were here. She'd have slapped some sense into you, maybe even literally.

No. Wait.

The devious cow would've talked you into doing it. For sure. She has a flair for the dramatic.

"Sorry, can I just—thanks." Someone with offensively bony elbows bulldozes you aside and passes a drink to her companion. An apology is on the tip of your tongue but evaporates into the ether upon seeing the twosome in question. Both were complicit in the casual bullying you endured during your high school years. They don't appear to recognise you now. Not that they even spare your pitiful person a glance.

"Who's up next?" the worst one queries, cup snug to her bosom.

"Taehyung," the lackey answers, glee upending her petulant features. "Kim Taehyung."

An elbow jabs you again as the girl struggles with the clasp on her clutch. Her overlong claws impede her. "Oh shit, already? I thought we had more time. Shit."

"Nope. It's go time. Hurry up, girl, competition's gonna be fierce." The other one watches her digital acrobatics to get into her purse.

Oh God. She has so much money. There's no doubt in your mind she'll trump everyone present.

No. Oh, no.

Not her. Not with him.

Your mind flits through premonitions of the future. They’re all  rather grim. The last one is that of a wedding. A marriage between this dreadful bitch and your most cherished of friends, Taehyung. It's garish and tacky - she's denied him input, of course - and the ceremony is filled with faces that once mocked you mercilessly. None of Taehyung's friends are there; indeed, he is no longer even part of his team. Her possessiveness and his undying loyalty have put an end to his blossoming career. He looks sad beneath a mask of happy. Eyes that once blazed with the embers of ambition are doused by despondency. He is a husk.

And their first meeting is this auction, this cute anecdotal encounter of oh, I just had to have him, and when I kissed him I knew.

Just a glimpse at this dystopian future disturbs you silly. Conviction, while tentative, burgeons in your heart.

You can't let her have him. Anyone but this noxious cunt.

And suddenly you've money in hand, too. Bills you withdrew specifically for this purpose, and yet would sooner have left them crisp and cold in your purse than followed through. But public humiliation is endlessly preferable to damning Taehyung to a kiss with this serpent. Because it won't stop there. It won't just be a kiss but an appeal for more. She’ll say it’s no strings attached, but she doesn't attach strings. She weaves webs. You recall her high school boyfriend. He was a well-performing, jovial guy that always waved hi. And she consumed him, heart-first, ‘til he was naught but a sunken-eyed zombie. He took a leave of absence that never ended.

Sexy, dangerous synth sounds from the speakers either side the catwalk. Ah, shit. Not that song. Any song but that one. NCT U’s Baby Don’t Stop. Of course Taehyung picked that. It fills the air with a fatal drum beat and in he comes through the curtains, strutting like he is the rhythm. The room, rather than become uproarious, falls eerily quiet. Everyone breathes as one entranced being, and no one moves but him. Halfway down the catwalk he body-rolls with the fluidity of wind-rippled satin, burgeoning from his chest and snapping at the hips. Prospective bidders gasp, as do you. And then his thumb is in the hem of his shirt, luring it upwards, exposing his olive expanses inch by mouthwatering inch. You see his abs near every day, but in this context, backed by that song, you find yourself as winded as everyone else. His stomach tautens for show, feeding into loose-waisted shorts that sit far too low. Even you haven’t been privy to this much. And especially not the alluring trail of hair that thickens at his waistband.

Someone shatters the stupor and screams, “$80!”

“Geez, you’re a horny bunch.” Jimin’s laughter peals. “We already have $80. Any advance on—“

“$100!” Some breathless sap cries next. “Oh my God, look at his thighs!”

And look you do. Taehyung grooves at the catwalk’s end, shirt back in place but hiking up the hems of his shorts instead.  You almost glimpse groin. He’s absolutely shameless, straining the muscles of his thighs until they’re lewdly pronounced. They’re veritable tree trunks. His calves, too, defy belief. Rock-hard and rounded and begging to be bitten. The party-goers crowding round his feet must think similarly. 

What distracts you most, however, are Taehyung’s straying fingers. They skirt his crotch in a salacious manner, stretching the material where it shouldn’t. Accentuating things they shouldn’t. You may pass out.

All the while his eyes are down, maybe closed. You want to see his face more than anything. The playful smirk on his plump, wet lips and the focus in his brows. 

“$120!!” You almost lose your head to a cash-strangling fist beside you.

It's her. Pointy-elbowed bitch.

But you aren't thrusting your student loan up just yet. You're in the middle of an almost holy, revelatory experience. Taehyung is still undulating and provoking the crowd, who are no longer hushed but whooping like chimps in heat. His shirt is off and helicoptering overhead. He allows one overcome girl at the sidelines to verify the thew of his biceps and bags himself another bid. You, however, do nothing but gawp, bills clutched to your chest and your eyes affixed to the glorious grin that breaks across his face. His eyes open onto you and then it's you you see at his wedding, standing afore him, bouquet instead of a wad of cash. You want to be the one. Now is the moment, while he's watching you envision this.

"$200,” you splutter. Volume is difficult when your voice is a quivering inconstant.

"What was that? Did we just get another bid?" Jimin wavers too, out of disbelief. "Did someone say $200?!"

The room is a clamour of confusion but Taehyung watched you mouth the very syllables. The shock is such that it softens his salacious movements to a dance more modest. His eyes are wider than you've ever seen them; mouth too. It hangs agape and downturned, as yours does. Because you're not quite sure whether you said something else altogether. Maybe you hurled a cuss word out of frustration? Did you momentarily black out and proclaim Hitler did nothing wrong? Nothing else can account for the scrutiny with which he punishes you with now.

Or.

You actually did bid, and that's why he's walking over, to the very drop-off of the catwalk, no longer any swagger to his step. "What are you doing?" he calls down, the music still strong and now strangely inappropriate. You simply watch the mole beneath his bottom lip move, dumb.

Louder, now, you call again. "$200!"

"Oh! It was a bid! ____?!" The flame-haired MC shares his puzzlement with the rest of the reacting room. All heads turn toward you.

But yours turns nowhere but Taehyung, your expression an open book of long-hidden liking. You watch, suspended by dissociation, as he lays a palm flat against his chest. "Me?"

It could all still be explained away. A joke. You drank too much. You just wanted to see the look on his face. Instead, you grant him the minutest of nods. A simple tip of the chin. "You," you whisper, whether it's heard or not.

Taehyung sees it in the shape your lips make. And then his gaze sweeps back upward, his chest heaving far too much for a man standing stationary.

"What's going on?" The disgruntled echo each other.

Jimin is quick to make sense of things and keep it rolling. "Okay, so, a bid of $200! Anyone else?"

A new song comes on; it's gone on too long. Something with a cantering beat that's adequately sentimental.

So if love is nothing more than just a waste of your time—

Clambering atop the platform, you counter someone's desperate bid of $220 with a measured breath. "$250." You hold Taehyung at fingerpoint. "You."

Waste it on me.

For a pants-shitting second, nothing happens. Your outstretched arm gains a tremor that could crumble it. Taehyung sifts your soul with his big, dewy eyes and then he's walking. Stalking toward you. Knocks the money from your hands and seizes your shying face with both of his. The last thing you see is his nose mole before his mouth joins with yours. His grip is like a vice and his lips are no gentler. They pry you open with little effort and then you're flooded with wet heat. Taehyung is insatiable in pursuit of your tongue. His hands drop to draw in your waist, your chest, every inch of your overclothed form. He's underclothed but burning hot, planes of honed skin beneath your fingertips. It's all so right. Feels so good. Taehyung moans that much into you when he chances a breath of air. Applause starts up as the music swells. It's so cliche but you've never had a cliche of your own before and your gloom-ridden ass needs this.

"Going—"

"I didn't know. I wish I had. This would've happened sooner," Taehyung gasps between desperate, too-short smooches. It proves too difficult to resist the pull of your mouth and he captures it again, sloppier. Slower.

"Going—"

"It doesn't matter." You pull the oxygen in, impatient. "Doesn't matter." Your fingers are a tangle at the nape of his neck, tugging on his lustrous locks. "Make up for it."

"Gone! Sold for $250!"

The two of you won't be parted for a moment. Not even when dismounting the platform. There's ruckus around you but it's so distant when his lips are on you. You sink into him like you would a scalding bath. "You don't have to pay that," Taehyung tells your cheek, smearing his saliva-slick mouth back to yours. His greed for you manifests against your stomach, and you ache in return. "This is a freebie."

Your passionate clinch takes you to the sidelines, away from prying eyes. Most of them, anyway. "What about this?" Your hands are suddenly in unseemly places.

"Th-That's also free. Everything's free. Oh, God."

#taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung fluff #taehyung scenarios #v #v fluff #v scenarios #taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #v x reader #v x you #bts scenarios #bts fluff #bts x you #bts x reader

[ubemango]

one time, in your room (m)

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

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

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

                                          part 1: emergency tactics

It started five months in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think you upset her,” Jeongguk says.

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks for—that, I guess,” he says.

Your highlighter squeaks against the paper. “Jeongguk.”

“M’yeah?”

“Do you want to have sex with me?”

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

“You’re worried.”

His face contorts in confusion. “About what?”

“I don’t know. But I can feel it.”

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

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

You hear him chortle. “I’ll do that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Want this to be over.”

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

“When’s your awards ceremony?”

“In two weeks,” you say.

“Same time as our final game.”

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

“Jimin been bothering you lately?”

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

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

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

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

“You remember when you asked me out?”

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

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

“Sappy.”

“Maybe the stars are aligning,” you say.

“Is that a good thing?”

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

“Then bare yourself.”

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

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

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

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

Jeongguk is always a giver. “Which is?”

“I eat you out instead.”

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

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

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

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

You nod. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Agh—fuck yeah I’m—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gross how?”

“Gross like I need a shower.”

You can’t deny him. “Wanna shower?”

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

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

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

“Fancy seeing you here.”

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

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

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

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

“Final paper.”

“Dissertation?”

“Working up to that,” you say.

“So you’re a scholar scholar.”

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

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

“He loves spicy ramen,” you comment.

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And are you okay with that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re a pig, did you even shower.”

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

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

“Hi,” Jeongguk says against your mouth.

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

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

“No, you already have a heavy one.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

“Was it sexy enough for you?”

“Oh yeah. Got my pussy rumbling.”

He balks. “You’re so annoying.”

Two minutes. “It’s starting again.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then you get a text from Jeongguk.

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

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

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

“You wet yet?”

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

He pauses. “Sorry?”

“Sit. And don’t—ask me that again.”

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

“Researching about Western Europe and their refugee policies.”

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

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

“A plan.”

“For?”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

“Wanna elaborate?”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

“Okay, lay it on me.”

“Wait—really?” 

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

“Ha ha.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You like me being freaky?” 

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

Good point. “Define good stuff.”

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

“Okay now it’s getting weird.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s a colder day today.

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

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

“Coming from somewhere?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you fuck him yet?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(And seeing Jeongguk play is really attractive.)

You settle with: “I’ll try my best.”

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

“Barely.”

“Did you get your paper done?”

“Barely.”

“So it’s done.”

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

“Hm?”

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

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

“You love me.”

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

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

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

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

“Anyone ever fingered you so hard you cried?”

“You wanna make me cry?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He kisses your cheek. “Another one?”

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

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

“Yes please—”

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

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

“Oh-h—!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re crying.”

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

“Was it good though?”

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

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

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

“You love me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can do that,” you say. 

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

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

“About your last assignment?”

“Mhm.”

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

“Very solid process.” 

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

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

You’ll get there.

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

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

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

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

“Read it out loud.” 

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

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

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

Again, Jeongguk texts you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You stare. “From which agency?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you think you’ll make it?”

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

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

“Jimin?”

“Jimin.”

“About Jeongguk?”

“About Jeongguk.”

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

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

You cower into embarrassment.“Sorry.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Duh.”

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

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

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

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

Aa…Jeongguk❣️: 1 Photo and 2 Messages

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

You open it. It takes one second to download.

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

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

You squeal. 

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

What

The

Fuck is going on.

No matter. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It takes him a minute.

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

Oh. Okay.

You lean up on your elbow, push your chest against your bicep in the hopes that your cleavage could somewhat be evocative enough in the weak light of your phone. (You notice you forgot to turn the lights on.) The picture cuts off right above your nipples, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t do that just for the possibility of a desperate plea. You lie back down.

Sent.

[8:13PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: urruhguhgkehrdhfg [8:13PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Baby pleease I want more [8:14PM] You: of what ??? [8:14PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: FUck [8:15PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: I want you [8:15PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: On top of me [8:15PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Grnding yuor pretty pussy on my dick [8:16PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: You’re wet ik ur wet

Of course he would. He knows your body better than ever before, and you might tease him but the throbbing you’re attending to is too much of a distraction.

[8:17PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Can you imagine that [8:17PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Teasig my cock into you [8:17PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: But I won’t putnit in yet [8:17PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Bc I want u squirming o n top of me [8:18PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Ik u don’t beg [8:19PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: But I would ask u anyway if u want me to sink u down on my cock

Oh my god. The soft sucking sound of your fingers inside your cunt isn’t enough to drag you out of this reverie. It just sinks you deeper into this bliss Jeongguk spells out for you so well. He has you like putty. Your knuckles curve you into a hopeless whimper.

[8:20PM] You: i want that [8:20PM] You: iwa nt that so bad pleas [8:21PM] You: let me feel your dick inside [8:21PM] You: u want that so bad baby [8:21PM] You: to feel me squeezing around u [8:21PM] You: im so tight and wwt [8:22PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Wanna hear u  [8:22PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Ft [8:22PM] You: just call

You don’t think you could handle seeing his dick now. Especially when the build in your pussy is this close to tipping you into a climax he probably wants to hear.

Your phone blares in the quiet. “Baby—”

“I’m so close,” Jeongguk says. He sounds like he’s panting. “Tell me you are too. Please—!” He cuts himself off with a gasp.

“Y-Yeah.” You burn in his desperation, curling into your cunt in the spot you know would have you keeling over. “Ngh—!”

“I wanna hear you. Wanna—hear you when I fuck you. So—good.”

“Oh fuck—”

“You want that too baby?”

You heave. “Yes!”

“Let me hear you cum. Please. I’m so fucking close—”

“Jeongguk!” You sputter, moaning loud, crying in the extremity. It zips through your core, has you reeling, legs shaking as you rub it out so hard you arch from your bed. You barely register Jeongguk’s own completion.

“Fuck I’m cumming—shit!” He groans, long, noisy on the line but the image of his cum onto his hands has your stomach clenching. Clobbered by his own doing and it’s almost endearing how fucked out he sounds. There’s a moment where you hear fumbling, a distant breath; shifts in the mattress probably. “Baby…”

Your phone lights up again. 

Aa…Jeongguk❣️: 1 Photo

You don’t hesitate this time. 

His dick is wet, probably with his spit, but now his entire first is closed around it, dregs of his cum pooling in the suction of his palm against the pink skin. The urge to put your mouth on him is so over-whelming you groan in frustration.

“Want it in my mouth,” you say.

“You’ll make me hard again,” Jeongguk murmurs with a laugh.

It’s just past 8:30. “So. What got you so hard that had you begging for me over the phone?”

“Hm.” You move until you’re under the covers. A makeshift warmth because you don’t have Jeongguk to cuddle you for post-sex softness. “I don’t know. Just missed you. Again. Sorry if you had work to do.”

“No you’re not.”

“Yeah I’m not.” You think you hear him in the washroom. The vent is loud. “Made a mess.”

“Not my fault.”

“Uh, it kinda was. Hoping for more nipple next time.”

“Now you’re asking for too much,” you sigh. There’s a sleepy pull in your head, dragging you through the waves of feelings that currently bombard your heart. “I miss you too. Hope you’re not working too hard.”

“I have a bruise on my ass! Oh my god I forgot to tell you. But Hoseok checked me so hard for no fucking reason and—boom. Landed right on my booty.”

You coo. “Aw. Want me to kiss it better?”

“Yes please, it’s on my fatter butt-cheek I think.”

It dies down again. “So what stage are we at for your build-up?”

“Close to the finale.”

You can’t stop yourself from smiling. There’s only three days left till your prospective hells come to a head. Then it’s back to loving Jeongguk but closer to him this time, not through the cracked screen of your phone. “Can’t wait.”

“Me too,” Jeongguk says. “Guess—I should leave you to your work?”

As much as you want to say no, the pile of essays on your desk is calling for your ass to get moving. It sends a quick ripple of nervous tension down your spine but the sooner you get it done the sooner it is to texting Jeongguk again. You know he’s impatient too. “Yeah. Might stay up.”

“Not too late, okay? You’re almost there. And make that tea I bought you, it’s supposed to help with your headaches.”

You’ll cry. “I love you.”

“Love you too. Text me when you’re gonna sleep.”

You’re probably ovulating because a tear really does slip over your cheek. The stickiness between your thighs rubs your skin when you finally get up, avoiding the offensive stack of work in your periphery when the hints of a new headache start to come up. 

Jeongguk probably knew you were heading straight into another painful night of working. There’s a tin of loose leaf tea sitting patiently for you in your cupboard. And maybe taking on the teaching position wasn’t such a good idea, but then again, dates where everything loomed over you were inevitable. School’s a bitch. But you have an attractive boy waiting for you to finish, and that’s what prompts you to face the music. One more time.

Three more nights. 

The first night is actually okay. You get a page and half done, and Namjoon checks in with a text in the evening to make sure you aren’t pulling your teeth out. Jeongguk has practice the whole day. 

During the second night, you forget to save one of the articles you cited, and you spend a frantic hour searching through all your sources to trace it back. It’s a painful process and you almost cry, but you text Jeongguk and he sends you a selfie of him sending you a thumbs up. Your phone lags trying to scroll through the gigantic box of of hearts he texts you. You find the article. It’s good.

Third night and you’re about ready to give up. Jeongguk and Namjoon are both out of commission because apparently the universe hates all of you and you’re all busy with your respective work. But you have a page to conquer, and the onus is on you to show up with nice skin tomorrow because the department likes to take pictures to post online. The tea Jeongguk got you steams as you type diligently.

One

More

Word

Andit’sdone.

“Oh god,” you whisper to yourself. You scroll through your paper, making sure all your citations are right. Page numbers there. No excessive use of the first-person, your professor’s name spelt correctly. Formatted correctly.

It’s done.

You bask in the harsh light of your desk lamp, weight lifted off your shoulders the instant you save your document to submit online.

The assignment page loads, and you hit the button.

The line of your phone rings twice.

“Hello?” Jeongguk groans. It’s three in the morning. “Babe? Are you okay?”

“I FINISHED I SUBMITTED IT IT’S IN!” You yell. A genuine rise in your throat that has Jeongguk whooping with as much energy as his sleep-ridden voice can allow on the other side of the line.

“How do you feel?”

“Like I wanna hop on your dick right now.”

Jeongguk just snickers. Your eyebrows raise, because for sure he would’ve been choking. But maybe it’s because he’s tired. “Don’t tempt me into a boner, it’s too early for this.”

“Fuck—sorry. You have your game. Okay I’ll hang up. I’m gonna—sleep. Try to. Okay I love you! Sorry bye!”

“Sleep well. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You knock out the second your light is off and your head hits the pillow.

You asked Namjoon earlier in the day to call you awake because your ringtone is more annoying than your alarm. And even though the ceremony is later in the evening, you’re scared that you’ll sleep the entire day away. 

Jeongguk texts you before you’re up. A congratulatory message, and another saying that he’ll be at practice the whole day so he’ll try to text you at lunch. But the afternoon sun sees no text from him and you know it’s because he’s sweating his balls off on the hockey rink. Stubborn like you know he is but now you miss him again. 

One thing that sticks in your head the rest of the day: the thought of it being over. Because once you get your awards and hopefully get to see the end of the game, you get Jeongguk to yourself again. Two weeks of agonizing to get to this point all but crashes into your loins to spark a frighteningly hot fire, and now, once again, you’re left to fantasize about Jeongguk’s dick. You force yourself not to dwell on it too much, makeup a risk to your fidgeting and if the reason why you have an ugly picture up online is because you were longing for dick then—well. 

It’s Namjoon who greets you when you get to the conference hall downtown.

“You look good,” is all he says. 

You stick your tongue out at him. You had to redo your lipstick twice. “Shut up.”

He leads you to where he was sitting: the massive table stuck in the middle with the microphones sticking up along the perimeter. Maplewood and entirely unfitting for the green carpet, though Namjoon beats you before you can say anything mean. “If you look up front, that’s the Commissioner-General I was talking about.”

You look. She’s a petite woman, scarily thin, wearing a bright scarf. “Yoon Soomin,” you recognize.

“Correct.”

“Namjoon!” You hit his shoulder, and he winces with a grin. “Why didn’t you tell me!”

“Because I knew you’d get stressed!”

Well he’s goddamn right you’re stressed now. Yoon Soomin, Commissioner-General of one of the programs you had your eyes on for the past year now. Applications are open next week. You’ve had yours done for a solid six months, and now the head of the program is right here. In the flesh. Watching you about to get your award.

The chatter of all the other students is drowned out when the program head gets up for the commencement speech. “Good evening everyone. My name is Bae Joohyun. Thank you—”

Ding.

Namjoon kicks your shin. You silence your phone. It’s Jeongguk.

[7:39PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Hi babe hope u had a good day!!! Sorry I got distracted [7:40PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: But I know ur gna win like fifty awards so advanced congrats!!!!!!! Proud of ur big brain [7:40PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Love you [7:41PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: I hope you make it later pls try ur hardest but if u can’t it’s okay but like I would really appreciate if you. Came [7:41PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: OJO [7:42PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Heh Taehyung said that looks like me 

There’s clapping. You don’t know why everyone’s clapping but you do it too.

[7:42PM] You: pls don’t break any limbs while i am here i won’t be fast enough [7:42PM] You: love u. play smart not hard. i’ll be there for ur final goal 🤪 [7:43PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: Anything for my scholar [7:43PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: You r so cute please come soon [7:44PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: I have to go now I LOVE You

“I will now invite the Student Chair Kim Namjoon forward to deliver a speech,” Professor Bae says.

No last text to Jeongguk because now you join the applause once more. Namjoon gets up with practiced ease, staggered steps of confidence because if anyone is going to get a PhD first, it’s him. And you know he applied for the program too.

It starts simple: “Thank you for coming today.” A celebratory gathering, gratitude for everyone’s hard work and commitment. A call for everyone to continue being ambassadors for the Humanities. Nothing you haven’t heard before. 

“I would also like to announce that the department has decided to award a special recipient tonight for their academic work and contribution to graduate research,” Namjoon continues. “The award will be presented by Yoon Soomin, Commissioner-General of the Anthropology for the Humanities Global Network. Please give your warmest applause to Doctor Yoon.”

Oh god. Your literal idol because she was just as interested in babies as you were and Jeongguk would for sure be goading you into a frenzy because of your shaking. But you clap as normally as normal clapping goes, and Doctor Yoon takes the mic.

“I’ll just head straight into it,” she says with a pretty smile. You catch Namjoon looking at you. He raises an amused eyebrow, and now you’re suspicious. “It is an honour to call upon ___, for their recent submission of pronatalist work based in Europe for the research study funded by the Global Network.” That’s—you. That’s you, and these are your legs moving on their own accord to the beat of the eager applause. You don’t look at Namjoon but you can hear him, because he’s clapping the loudest. “___ has been recognized before: for an outstanding submission in undergraduate research on cultural genocide, as well as active participation in the Anthropological department.”

Yoon Soomin extends a hand to you, as well as a pretty certificate gilded with bold letters in the form of your name. Again: all offered by Yoon Soomin. Again, you are shaking. 

“T—hank you,” you stammer, and her hand is soft in yours and you really just might cry but it’s probably because you’re exhausted. You’d slept for a solid ten hours but no amount of rest would have ever prepared you for her pretty voice congratulating you again. “I—It’s an honour.”

“Picture time,” Namjoon interrupts. He’s got his phone up. “Smile!”

“Congratulations again,” Doctor Yoon says. She grins like she knows something too, and the rest of the ceremony is static in your ears.

Like always, it’s repetition. A name called, award presented. Your name is exhausted three more times, and you’d cower under the attention but you worked too goddamn hard not get to this point. You think of Jeongguk, probably three to none even though it’s only been half an hour into the game. You and Namjoon are practically trembling when Professor Bae dismisses everyone.

Your jacket is on, purse about to swing over your shoulder when someone comes up to you.

“Hello.” Doctor Yoon again. “Oh—are you in a hurry?”

“Not at all,” you rush out. You can feel Namjoon vibrating too. “I—Thank you so much for presenting the award.”

“It was my pleasure. The overseas program application opens next week,” she advises, and you really might scream but you will yourself to stillness. “We don’t know where it’s based yet, but I hope that doesn’t discourage you from submitting your application.”

“Oh she’s been interested for years,” Namjoon offers. You elbow him. Doctor Yoon laughs. 

“I’m glad to hear that. Keep up the good work!”

You all but skirt around her with a quick thank you again! and make a mad dash out the building and to the underground train because Namjoon sucks and can’t drive on highways yet. “Good thing you didn’t wear heels because you’re so fucking slow.”

“Shut up,” you growl. The people on the sidewalk offer no space for you to slither through, and you grind you teeth with impatience. “And don’t give me shit when I beat you four to one.”

“Not everyone’s into babies like you are, genius.” You reach the closest subway entrance, a seedy staircase down into the dirty cement and your fare is paid with a drop of a coin; running for the departing train and you make it by the wisp of your hair. You sigh into an empty seat, Namjoon right next to you. “Time.”

It’s nearing 9:00. “Oh my god it’s almost done.”

“You’ll make it,” Namjoon says. The jostling ride is another twenty minutes, and you know it’s cutting it short but you promised Jeongguk. He’s so close. You’re out of breath. “So you’re free now, huh.”

“Yeah.”

“You worked hard.”

You scrunch your face in embarrassment. “Thanks Joonie.”

“I mean it,” he says. “No one deserves this more than you. Yeah? Cut yourself some slack.”

“I know—it’s just—I couldn’t be there for Jeongguk as much as I could have—” And it’s all coming out now. There’s only one other person on this cart other than Namjoon so you let yourself have the moment, the breakdown. The awfulness of preoccupation and missing your boyfriend and too much work. You don’t want to cry but the screech of the metal tracks makes it easier to hide. “‘M so fucking tired.”

Namjoon pats your back when you heave. “Two more stops. Then you can curse the gods all you want.”

Good incentive, because once the doors slide open on your stop you book it up the escalator as fast as your fatigue can allow. Luckily campus is right around the corner, cars taking up all the space on the road. Probably all here for the final match of the year, your university against the one a city over, and the cheers are so loud you hear it from the two sidewalks over. “Let’s go let’s go!”

And you and Namjoon run again, down to the set of doors of the arena nestled into the corner of your school. The doors are heavyset but you yank them like you’ll die if you aren’t inside within the next twenty seconds, and it’s only now that you feel the buzz of your phone from a text.

[8:58 PM] Jimin Bimin: I’m on the east side with taehyung, third from the bottom bleacher, mostly in the middle. hurry!!!!!!

Namjoon’s no doubt just following the beeline you make because even you can’t feel where your legs are taking you. All you know is the rush of school pride and the deafening yells of the crowd, lost bits of popcorn on the floor scrunching against your shoes as you search for Jimin. You see Taehyung first: warpaint on his face and he waves you over quickly, scooting over with a pull on Jimin to make room for Namjoon too.

“You made it!” Jimin screams and it still sounds like a squeak with the roar of the people everywhere.

But you ignore this, laser-beaming the rink for that familiar 97. You catch Jeongguk closely following the puck, stick clenched tightly in his fists, legs quick in their glide as the offence. You feel everyone’s bated breath, hands grabbing Jimin’s arm—the other team’s members flying past Jeongguk, the raise of the wood, a slap to the puck—

The red blares. The crowd goes wild. 

“HE WON!” Jimin screams and so do you, the wave of excitement passing over you like fairy dust and now everyone’s cheering. You have no idea what went on. But now all the boys off the rink jump over the barrier to grab Jeongguk in a hard throttle, arms tangled around each other, chant lost on your ears but they look so happy. 

Somehow, a body breaks away from the huddle, and now they’re skating in your direction. 

Jeongguk waves. You smile. A wave back, and now you have each other again.

You wait outside the building, watching as the throngs disperse. Namjoon, Taehyung, and Jimin already said their goodbyes, last felicitations from them both and a promise for lunch from you somehow gets squeezed from the conversation too. The brick is hard against your back.

[9:30PM] Aa…Jeongguk❣️: WHERE ARE YOU [9:30PM] You: i’m outside already!!

A door bursts open. There’s an inhale, then you turn your head. Jeongguk drops his bag the second you charge for him, arms ready for your attack as you jump and wrap your legs around his waist, arms caught on his neck. You think you hear someone gasp but it’s all lost on you now. “Oh my god I love you,” he breathes, and you cry. “Babe—”

“I watched you,” you sniffle, and you frown when he laughs. “Watched you win.”

“I’m glad.”

You kiss him. “Missed you.”

Jeongguk looks like he might cry too. “Mine again?”

“Yours again.” And you mean it. 

“I would—I would invite you over to the after-party but I’m sleepy,” he says in between presses of his mouth, “and I ran out of contact solution the other day so I can’t invite you over and also Taehyung’s probably sleeping right now.”

“Then you come over.” You melt into his tongue, his feet staggering in your grind and he bites your lip.

“R-Really?” 

“Yeah, actually get some shut-eye.” He lets you off when you wriggle your ass against his hands, dragging him to the bus stop before he can put them back against your jeans or else you might really fuck him this time. “Because Taehyung snores too loud anyway.”

The ride to your apartment totals eight minutes because it’s late, and living on the edge of the suburbs means no one’s up this late anyhow. Jeongguk hadn’t even let you find a seat, balancing through red lights on his feet just to fly out the door when you’d reached your stop. You’ve already done too much running today but Jeongguk still rushes you up to your floor, and before you can get the key to your door he has you pressed up on it instead.

“Want you,” he says. Hard against your throat like he means it.

“God—let me—open my door and you have me,” you say through your teeth, gritted because the hallways echo and now Jeongguk has his thigh pressed up against you. “Babe let go—”

He does, but only with a lingering kiss promised by your burning attraction. You don’t fumble with the lock but you do stumble in from how quick you open the door, slamming shut in your haste and you hear his duffel bag meet the ground and now your back meets the hard metal again. “You have to stop shoving me into this thing oh my god.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Jeongguk whispers. He’s kissing you again. Lifts you up with no warning and you yelp into his curious mouth, dick grinding into the rough of your pants. “Fuck I—”

“Did—you want to—”

“No—wait yes, yes—I just—” He doesn’t let up. You can feel his cock straining against his sweats, flimsy layers you could just shove down but his hips are glued to your own. “I can’t—cum. Right now. Too much. Wind—wound up.”

Your tailbone is starting to dig into the door. “Then let me down and let’s just—sleep.”

“I’m sorry,” he says. One last kiss, nose meeting yours. “Still on my hockey grind.”

“Ew,” you snort. “Also don’t wear your pants to bed.”

“Oh.” He shoves his shoes off when you do. 

“I don’t like it when people wear their outside clothes on my sheets.”

“Oh.”

“But it’d be nice to wake up to your dick on my ass,” you add. Jeongguk makes a strangled noise, then carries you to bed.

“I’ll brush my teeth tomorrow,” is the last thing you remember him saying. 

The morning rushes in too soon. Your curtains aren’t closed and Jeongguk hogs the blanket, sprawled on your side of the bed no less. You weren’t kidding when you said you wanted to spoon but at least his cock is warm with something just as soft as your ass.

You settle in the calm. Jeongguk isn’t one to snore but his soft breaths are just as jarring, disbelief apparent when you realize this is the first time he’s ever slept-over at your place. As convenient as it is to live somewhere that only needed one bus ride, you’re on campus all the time; making sense meant taking up space in his res instead. But now the lump he occupies in your bed is something you think you could get used to.

(Even if he hogs the blanket.)

You’re still in your clothes from last night, but at least you had the decency to shuck off your jeans. And you’d gotten up well past Jeongguk-sleeping-hours to take off your makeup because it took you forever to pry his ridiculously strong arm off around you. You get up with a kiss to his mane of bedhead and a silent reminder to grab an extra toothbrush.

The next plan to execute on your list after washing the tired off: breakfast. And you know you don’t have eggs but you open the fridge like you’ll see the carton sitting there anyway.

You’re standing, coming to a blank for what feels like forever. You think briefly about ordering in, then remember the guilt of just grabbing groceries instead. The internal battle is cut short when you hear the creak of your bed, a long groan. Then, footsteps.

“You look sad,” Jeongguk croaks two seconds later.

You frown for effect. “I want eggs. And why are you up.”

“Come here, egghead.” Jeongguk is groggy. The sexy kind too, because his voice is a tenor that scratches the needier part in you, the one telling you to bury your face in his chest and you do just that. “I felt you move. Sorry I couldn’t wake you up with my dick against your butt.”

“S’ok. And go shower because you’re stinky.”

He lets you go. “Good morning,” he says for the first time. A domesticity you feel lightheaded from. “You should shower with me.”

“Unless you’re scared of detachable shower heads I think you’ll be fine.”

“Don’t be cocky,” he whines. “And you’re dirty too, you sweat a lot just like I do.”

That’s true. “But it’s not even a hair washing day.”

“Why are you resisting me, woman.” He brings two hands up, wiggling his fingers. “I’ll tickle you.”

“You will not—”

“I will tickle you and if you don’t shower with me I will cry.”

You huff. “Fine.” He leads you down the hall to the bathroom, satisfied in his quick win, back flexing when he takes his shirt off. “And I’m the cocky one.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he says. You know he’s baiting but you don’t want to resist him anymore. “You need to turn the shower on because I don’t know how to.”

Getting naked is a different kind of intimate when you’re not in the bedroom. You know this because Jeongguk can’t even look your way when you’ve stripped, but you’re shivering like he’s staring.  You step into the tub before he can back out. He doesn’t come in till the water’s running.

You like it hot. Jeongguk—not so much by the looks of his hesitation, so you compromise with a slight shift of the knob and a switch in place so he’s under the pelt of water. He’s all hard muscle under your hands. “Hope you like cherry blossom.”

He doesn’t say anything. Grabbing the loofah you spurt your pink soap, lathering it on his chest first. Jeongguk just stares. “I really missed you,” he says.

You nod. Nodding fast to keep yourself from thinking too hard because then you might start getting soft. “Me too,” you croak out. “Want me to wash your hair?”

Jeongguk just brushes his lips against yours in answer. You’ve just reached over his shoulders to get the back of his neck but he forces you back into the tiles, back inundated with cold hardness and there’s no room for complaint when your tits press against Jeongguk’s skin like this. He groans a desperate sound into your pliant mouth. “I—I don’t wanna wait anymore.”

You pause. “For what?”

“I don’t—know—I—just having you here again. Makes me want to do everything.”

You are enveloped in mist and so much longing. “Let me finish then we’ll—go back.” You don’t know if you want to focus southward because one look at his dick and you’ll fall to your knees. “Turn around.”

He does. The glass of the divider fogs up in your intimacy. You give a half-hearted scrub along his skin, focusing on the grime you can’t see. Can’t think.

“Okay you know—I think we’re good,” you say, voice tight.

“Come here.” Jeongguk spins to find you again, a hard kiss into you and you feel his dick press up against your stomach. “Towels.”

“Turn off the shower.” You push open the door, shaking legs dripping onto the floor as you scramble to wrap yourself in warmth other than Jeongguk. He grabs the other one, quick passes over his skin before he drops it to the floor and nearly bowls you over to get you out into the bed room.

It’s bright. Jeongguk reads your mind. “Can I—shut the blinds?”

“Please.”

He goes to twist the plastic while you dry off the last remnants of water clinging to your skin, and before you know it Jeongguk has you lain flat across the tangled blankets, legs dangling from the side of the bed. “God I tried really hard to have a normal morning with you but I—just can’t anymore.” He kneels over you. “Please tell me you feel the same.”

You could go on about how quick the one-eighty was. From your thoughts about breakfast to this absolutely insatiable need for your boyfriend to insert whatever valid body part he could use into your pussy. But you and Jeongguk are never conventional, and going too fast is an illusion now. 

You have each other again, and no one’s counting the seconds anymore.

“Will you fuck me?” You ask.

“Yes,” he decides, and he unwraps the towel you’d clung onto before pressing downwards and caving into your lips. “I—have never wanted you so goddamn bad in my life, oh my god.”

“Good,” you choke on your breath because Jeongguk slips down your throat with his tongue and a pucker of his lips. “Ah—!”

A bloom of your slick runs through your cunt when he sucks hard on your skin, thumbs a shy presence on your breasts but they peak under the pressure. “You have the cutest tits,” he says. 

“Shut up.” You flare with embarrassment. “You can—be more rough.”

Jeongguk twists your nipples and you pant. “Like that?”

“Suck on them too. Make it—hurt.” His eyes flutter, determined in your command. Mouth a hot suction, laving you with his spit. His teeth graze in a bite and you moan. “Fuck—yeah. That’s so good…”

He stays like this: feeding into your sounds with sloppy grips of his tongue, suckling till your tits pop out his mouth and your hands find the nape of his neck in desperation. “Ugh—please—”

Jeongguk slurps on a nipple. “Get up there.”

You scramble up the bed, comfortably nestled in the centre and Jeongguk’s fingers go to spread your pussy,   cheeks heating in the sound of wet. He sighs.

“Do you want to cum now?”

You dip your head. “Please.”

He settles on his stomach, diving in to latch onto your clit, sucking that has your head thrown back further with every inch he covers with the jerk of his tongue. Honed in on the dangerous tip that could have you teetering over in a second and your hips pull back, but his hands take your bucking and locks you down to his attention. Too much so and now you wail. “Oh my g—od.”

Curses caught in the grit of your teeth because now he licks the stretch of your cunt like he’s thirsty. Jeongguk’s good at making you want more when you don’t know what means. “Gonna—use a finger.”

“Fuck, yeah. Yeah.” He curls in and up, a sweet crevice touched. Eyes rolling back as you puff. “Holy fu-uck yeah, finger it.”

“Wanna beg?” He suggests. Challenging.

“You’re asking me to?”

“I’m begging you to,” Jeongguk snickers.

“Then—” you settle up on your elbows, watching the minute thrusts into your cunt like a lazy cartoon— “please use another finger. And—make me cry this time.”

His eyes bulge in your confidence. Pulls out; now there’s two hard intrusions and it digs into a sweeter part inside, a touch that has you keening right into the pillow, drool smearing on the sheet. Clit sitting pretty on his wet tongue and you’d let him have it all day if he asked. Then Jeongguk thrusts in a drill so hard you vibrate. “O-O-Oh my fuuuuuuck—”

He curves into your loudness. “So fucking sexy,” he praises, rushing right through you and onto his fingers. “So wet—”

“Ugh—!” Your sobbing isn’t a tearful one but the scratch in your throat is smarting. Jeongguk swipes right over your nub. Leans up, fingers still a consistent presence and now his tongue is teasing yours, a muscle spasm more than anything and you can’t fucking breathe.

“Sit on my face,” he says.

“You—really?”

“I might cum.” Oh. He looks at you, eyes a wonder of pleasured agony. Probably because he’d been grinding into the sheets like last time but now you’re even more gone.

“Okay,” you gulp, and Jeongguk rolls over. Knees above his shoulders, using his elbows to slide along the mattress till you’re settled comfortably over his eager mouth. “You okay?”

“Fuck yeah.” He pulls on your thighs until his neck doesn’t strain up anymore, a stretch you can ignore if only to feel the traction of his rough love on your sensitivity. “This is—so hot.”

“Are you—pulling on pornographic roots right now?”

He hums into a suction. “Yeah.”

“What else have you thought about?” You can’t see his entire face from your view, but his forehead is scrunched. Thinking hard for you.

“Nothing—crazy,” he says. He kisses your leaking cunt. “Always wanna make you feel good. But it’d be hot if I choked you, yeah.”

“Oh—”

“Whatever you like,” Jeongguk decides. “I like whatever you like.”

“I would like it if you made me cry,” you contend.

He doesn’t say anything else. Jeongguk squeezes your ass, neck straining to get you dribbling on the tip of his tongue, pleasure pulled from the bottom of your stomach into moaning so loud you’re worried for the thinness of your walls. “Oh my god I’m close—don’t stop—”

Your pussy grinds right into it. His fingers are lax on your skin like he’s given up if it means you feed into your own demise. And you do: grating all your nerves from Jeongguk’s insistence into your sex and your hands tangle into his hair. “Oh fuck I’m—Jeongguk—!”

The feeling settles heavy in your pussy. Taken with a vehemence you’d praise forever and Jeongguk is nothing but passionate, a power translated through all his work and one he insists on when he paints your cunt like it’s his favourite thing to do. His hands tighten their grip on your ass, nearly falling over when his tongue slides like that—

“I’m cumming—oh my god I’m—fuck!”

Your eyes sting. It bursts—starting on Jeongguk’s tongue and spreading so fast you can’t tell up from down.  Moans wrenched from your chest and you can’t catch your breath, even when you push yourself off from Jeongguk because you can’t stop riding into it. “Ah—oh fuck.” You’re sniffling.

“Babe wait did I actually make you cry?”

“Yes you idiot, come here.” And Jeongguk crawls over you, kiss-ready, lips wet on yours. “Do you—is it—are you okay? Do you wanna try now?”

“Sure,” he says. “I just—might not last too long.”

“We take it slow,” you say. He nods. “Got condoms?”

Jeongguk looks sheepish but he nods again. “Please don’t ask me why I have them on me.”

“I’m asking why you have them on you.”

He groans. “Let me just—get them from my bag.” And he runs, hard penis and all, outside to the bag he’d left outside in your haste to the bed. He’s not even gone for two seconds before he has the string of foil in his hand. “Remember there was a party last night? Taehyung gave them to me just in case—you know. Something happened.”

“Good friend. Do you—have lube too?” 

Jeongguk pales. “No.”

“Come here,” you order instead, because you’re ridiculously wet anyhow. He gets closer, lying down when you push his chest down. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. Just wanna kiss you.”

He lets you. You stay in this moment, a precursor to a new era if you were being dramatic about it. But having him so soft and yielding under you like this makes you want to enjoy it, bit by bit. “I love you,” he says.

You mold into him. “I love you too.” Reaching over for one of the foils, you tear it as Jeongguk stares with a still chest. The condom rolls easily. “Okay?”

“Yep.”

Then you sit on top of him, your own breath caught in the butterflies jumbled in your stomach, a flit when his hands come to rest on your thighs. Nerves tangling with his and you feel the low tremors in his body. Your pussy glides along his dick lying pretty on his stomach. You tangle your hands with his. “Don’t be nervous,” you whisper.

Jeongguk gulps. “Just—kiss me again.”

You lean back down, his hands tightening yours when you meet him again. “Are you okay?”

His eyes are closed. “Yes—yes. You can put it in. Please.”

“Just—say the word and I’ll stop.”

He nods.

There’s a lump in your throat. You want it to be good for him. The griping all his friends did had done a great deal for your sex life, yeah. But the point of his comfort was crossed so many times you feared he’d back out by this time. And now he waits: waits for your go, on your own time, because the last thing he wanted to do was pressure you too. You know it in his attention, his quiet insistence on making you cum first. His patience for you to come back to him. Waiting so that you could get comfortable before he did, because he’s only ever comfortable when you are. 

You hold the base of his dick, tip straight below your core, positioned at the height of both your breaths.

You sink down.

It’s a scarcity, to feel this good from the get-go. A prodding that pinches a little stretches you right, Jeongguk’s length gloved in your heat, so much heat because he groans. “Oh my god.”

“Is that—okay?”

“Yes—”

His hands find your hips when your knees drop down even further. Slow, slow, slow; so wet because he makes you feel it—until you bottom out. Jeongguk shivers. “Tell me—when I can move.”

You watch his eyebrows scrunch up, teeth gritting when you shift to ease the weight on your legs. “I’m good. I’m good, please move, fuck.”

You do. You pick up to an easy pace, not straining yourself but enough for the tip of his dick to hit a spot in your gut that has you cooing. Your hands find his chest. “Ooh—fuck yeah.”

“Is it good—for you?” Jeongguk pants, bucking his hips when he watches your tits bounce. 

“Yeah. Feels so good…” You trail off, getting used to the feel of something so much thicker than his fingers. A burn you can’t say you haven’t missed, teasing your insides and you squeeze.

“Baby—that—fuck—” He’s sweating. His forehead shines, hair caught on his skin. His chest is a flushed, wet where your palms meet him because you’re getting a little winded now. But the little grunts he lets out every time you bounce is enough to keep you going. 

“Do you think—you can cum like this?”

His grin is sheepish. “N-No.”

You opt for a closer grind then. “How do you want me?”

“Your back,” he says, hesitant. “Let me—fuck you from the edge of the bed.”

You can do that. You lift up till his dick lies wet on his belly, sheets a mess under your bum when you let Jeongguk get up to move you the way he wants. He stands, one knee on the mattress as he spreads your legs, pussy served like it’s his to take. Makes a grab for his dick; jostles around a bit on your clit to see your hole tighten, stomach clenched. 

He presses in slow just to see you shiver. In control of your pleasure again, and you sigh into the sheets. 

“Oh my god.” You grasp the blankets, elbows strong to watch what you now know is the visual of Jeongguk fucking you. A little stilted in his rhythm, but only because he’s getting used to the feel of your pussy like this. 

You don’t care for the semantics of proper fucking. As long as his hips meet your ass in the beat you can only call nasty. The squelch of your arousal is loud. “Fuck—baby…”

“Yeah—feels so good.” Buried deep in your walls and maybe you could learn the ridges of his dick like this: lain here for him to use, cunt fit only for his pleasure. A position you’d gladly take everyday from now on because fuck if this isn’t heavenly. 

You know he feels it too when his chest picks up in his panting, dick a piston now and you mewl. 

“Yeah—faster, baby—like that—!”

“Shit—” Smearing your walls with your own slick, made for him to dirty. A push so vigorous you would be sliding if it weren’t for Jeongguk’s tight hands on you, and all you can do is take it. “Babe I’m close—”

And he bends down, kissing you with a pant into your mouth because he’s getting spent, efforts all going into your pleasure. He still thrusts. “Cum. Cum when you can, fuck.”

“What about—”

You shut him up with another press of your lips. “I’m fine.”

He leaves it at that. Jeongguk leans up again, adjusting one more time till he’s got both knees on the bed, cock a heady presence inside your sex and he gives it hard now. You’re trying not to squeeze so hard around him but it’s getting difficult; seeing him so focused, his eyes wild, sweat dripping on his shoulders. Sweltering in your heat and love and novelties—defiling him but in the best way possible. “I love you,” he chokes. “Oh my god I might—”

“Give it to me,” you whisper.

He does. Your pussy is still in Jeongguk’s indulgence, his whines escalating until he groans out: “I’m cumming—”

Jeongguk slams into you, a final push for your core and he croons into your neck. Streams of his pleasure in the form of a long sigh, his pulses inside. And maybe you’re dumb but you’re laughing and crying again, arms wrapping around his neck, swaying him back and forth as he calms down. 

“How was that?” You ask.

He’s crying, too. You wipe his under-eye when he takes one more kiss. “Best ever,” he says. “I’ll make you cum.”

“You don’t need to—” But his thumb is already on your clit, still wet from his doing and you force your hips to stillness— “Jeongguk no—”

“I wanna feel you cum around my dick,” he says, and the plea is enough for you to tighten and cry even more. It hurts, a nudge of pain but it’s already beginning to spread into pleasure—

“Jeongguk—”

You cum into his kiss, walls clenching into an orgasm so sweet your toes tingle. A ripple of pleasure running through all of you and he moans like he feels it too. 

Out of breath. It’s hot under his skin.

“So. Who do we tell first?”

Jeongguk laughs. “Maybe we can decide over breakfast.”

And you feel something, better than orgasmic bliss, the pleasure of a tryst: the simplicity of being in love. Jeongguk makes you feel like you can do anything.

“Eggs?” You ask.

His tongue is sweet. “Eggs.”

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #bts #jungkook #f: one time in your room #ubemango fic

[voiceswithoutlips]

Sugar - Chapter One

— pairing: Jimin x Reader — genre: College AU, Smut, Fluff, Minor Angst — word count: 2.7K — warnings: none yet 

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— chapter summary:

Its a normal day for Y/N, homework, lectures, club meetings and smack in the middle of it lands a hot boy, can Y/N resist him?

— A/N: This is my first time writing smut so I’d really love some feedback <3

“...what you need is some hardcore de-stressing,” Donna whispered in the middle of the lecture. “The kind where you are on your knees and …” 

I elbowed her in the ribs before she could continue. Sure I was a little stressed, maybe more than a little but I wasn’t going to have some ‘hardcore destressing’. I stayed as far away from any kind of relationships as possible, even casual ones that came with certain ‘benefits’. Why? Because I didn’t want to fall into a pit of despair again. My last relationship blew up like a balloon with too much helium. It took a really long time for me to pull myself out of depression. So no more relationships, no more men or women. I was going to prioritize my sanity and focus on my studies. At least that’s what I told myself.

“Seriously Donna, I don’t need any kind of de-stressing, I’m fine,” I whispered back. Professor Cameron was talking about Paradise Lost today. He had the unique ability to turn every exciting story into a boring ramble. Something I learned on my first day when he taught Shakespeare as if he was reciting his grocery list. I bet even his grocery list was more exciting. 

“Just come with me to the cafe, there's this new barista ...mmm the muscles on that guy. I wouldn’t mind having him with some cream,” she said, licking her lips. 

“Eww Donna, keep your dirty mind to yourself,” I shook my head. Donna was the kind of person who enjoyed life to the fullest. She ate when she was hungry, drank when she was stressed and fucked when she was horny. I always envied her simplicity. I grew up learning control, you plan, you strategize and then you make a move. That’s what my parents taught me. I never did anything spontaneous, caution was my base nature. 

“...Ms. Y/N do you have something to share with the rest of us?” Professor Cameron was staring daggers at me.

“Uh ..no Professor,” I said sheepishly as everyone in class stared at me. The rest of the class was uneventful, Professor Cameron went on and on with a few sarcastic remarks here and there about ‘undisciplined students’. I swear to god the man was a dinosaur, if it were up to him we’d be using slate and chalk to take notes. 

“Thanks for that,” I said as Donna and I collected our bags and left the building. 

“Come on, I’ll buy you a coffee to show you how very sorry I am,” her tone was solemn but her eyes held mischief. 

“Pfft, you only want to go there to ogle at the hot barista,” 

“He is sooo hot. He is a second year dance major, he just transferred here. Man, the way he moves …” Donna was almost drooling. 

“Not my type,” I said dismissively. There was something about muscular guys that put me off. Donna loved guys with big muscles, she loved Jocks. Personally I never saw the appeal, I liked my men on the softer side. 

“Oh honey, he’s totally your type,” Donna scoffed as we entered the cafe. It wasn’t far from the main building so it was always full of students drinking their sixth coffee of the day so they could stay awake in their next lecture. We were no different, after Cameron’s class I desperately needed a ‘pick me up’ or I’d be too sleepy to assist Professor Min in the next lecture.

The first thing I saw as I entered the cafe was a bunch of girls making heart eyes at the new barista. He wasn’t much taller than I was and man was he hot. Donna was right, he was totally my type. He was muscular but not in a jock kind of way, he reminded me of a panther. He was lithe, his every movement was graceful as if choreographed. His mouth was feminine, plump lips that made me wonder what it’d be like to bite into them. His eyes slightly unfocused as if he was daydreaming about something intense. I wondered what it’d be like to put his tiny wait in a corset. 

“Fuck,” the word left my mouth. I knew I was done for. Just looking at him made me hot. 

I made my way to one of the corner tables, leaving Donna to get our coffee. Dumping a bunch of books on the table I started working on my assignments. I was determined not to get anywhere near that barista. I had a feeling I wouldn’t be able to resist him. He was totally my type. Destiny was determined to torture me. 

“This is my friend Y/N! She’s our resident assistant,” I heard Donna and I lifted my head. My heart stopped. He was standing there, beside Donna, looking at me like I was the sweetest candy in the world. 

“Y/N this is Park Jimin, he is moving to our dorm today, can you believe it?!!” I could not. Dear universe, stop torturing me.

“Nice to meet you,” he said offering his hand. His voice was just like the rest of him, a mixture of delicate and sexy. 

“Let me know if you need any help,” I said, taking his hand like the good RA that I was. Instead of shaking it, he lifted my hands to lips, sending electricity right down to my core. 

“I’m sure I’ll need a lot of help,” I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath until he smirked at me. 

I quickly took back my hand. That man was doing things to me. I hadn’t gotten laid since I broke up with Dan months ago, my body was screaming at me. There was just something about Park Jimin that made you want to ride him till he begged for mercy. The thought made me incredibly horny. 

Donna was practically bouncing in her seat. She had informed me multiple times that Jimin was staring at me from behind the counter. I just couldn’t make myself turn my head to confirm it, I didn’t want to confirm it. That’d be a terrible idea. He was bringing down my walls like a stick of dynamite and I’d only met him an hour ago. I had to stick to my resolve. 

I sipped on coffee as dark as my soul. Donna always made a face whenever we went out. She had a sweet tooth, I hated sugar. Anything sweet was bound to make me nauseous. The only sweet food that I could tolerate was ice cream. Even on my birthday I only ate two bites of the cake before I tapped out, sugar just wasn’t my thing. 

“So, what do you do for fun around here,” Jimin said, slipping in the chair beside me. He had taken off his apron. He was wearing a pink turtleneck that hugged his body and tight black jeans that left nothing to the imagination. I was surprised to see him in boots with two inch heels. Dan would’ve scoffed at him for wearing them. 

I was hot as a furnace and wet. I was practically leaking, I thanked all the higher powers out there for giving me the brains to wear jeans instead of a skirt. I was two hundred percent sure that he could smell my arousal. The only saving grace that I had was that none of it showed on my face. 

“Depends on your definition of fun,” I said as I watched him pour 4 packets of sugar in his coffee, eww.

“Do you like movies? You can join our movie club!” Donna said with puppy eyes.

“Are you in the movie club Y/N?” Jimin asked. I almost didn’t hear him, I was too busy staring at hands as he stirred his coffee. He had the cutest pinkie in the world. 

“Pfft, she’s the club president and the RA and she’s also Professor Min’s teaching assistant. Y/N is like super smart,” Donna bragged. I could see the excitement on Donna’s face. This wasn’t the first time she’d tried to set me up with a guy. I knew all her tactics. It started with bragging and then swiftly escalated to Donna setting up dates. I never went to those dates. I wondered if I would go if it was Jimin.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” I mumbled. I was never good with compliments.

“You must be so busy, doesn’t your boyfriend mind?” Jimin asked with a curious look. 

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” I knew what he was getting at.

“Good to know,” he smiled. He was cute when he smiled. I mentally kicked myself for staring, in my defense he was gorgeous. 

“I should go, I can’t be late for Professor Min’s lecture. He’s really strict,” I apologized as I gathered my stuff. It was true, Professor Min was known for his no-nonsense attitude but that wasn’t the only reason. I desperately needed some release. “It was really nice meeting you Jimin, see you at the dorm I guess,” I gave him a smile and before he could reply practically ran out of the cafe.

I woke up this morning thinking about my thesis, not even in my wildest dreams did I expect a Park Jimin to land right in the middle of it. He was the embodiment of my desires. Just looking at him made me horny, which was very uncharacteristic for me. I was a romantic, I wanted to fall in love and go on silly dates. The first time I had sex with Dan was two months after we started dating. I was the kind of person to take it slow. I’ve never even had a one night stand. 

“This is so uncalled for,” I mumbled to no one in particular. I quickly made my way to the women’s locker, thankfully it was empty. I locked myself in one of the stalls, put one foot on the toilet and unceremoniously stuffed my hand in my pants. I sighed as my fingers touched my nub, finally! I rubbed myself in rough circles, pressing down hard. I was biting my lips to stop the moans that threatened to burst out. 

I imagined what it’d be like to have Jimin’s fingers inside me, what it’d be like to have him lick the slick off of my dripping pussy. I wondered how his dick would feel stuffed in my folds, it definitely belonged there. Would he slowly make love to me or would he fuck me like some animal in heat? 

My pussy was clenching on nothing, I desperately needed something inside me. But the downside of wearing skinny jeans is that there’s not much room to maneuver down there and I didn’t want to take off my pants on the dirty bathroom floor. I had to settle with rubbing my clit as if my life depended on it. 

I imagined Jimin's beautiful mouth wet with my juices as he looked up at me from the floor, my hands in his hair, holding him there, on his knees. I was so close...

“Y/N you there?” I almost jumped out of my skin. It was Donna, how the fuck did she find me?

“Yeah,” I said, my voice was breathy. I reluctantly took my hand out of my pants and adjusted my clothes. 

“Come on, we’re going to be late for Professor Min’s lecture!” I followed her out. My face was flushed with embarrassment. I was annoyed at Donna, I was so close... I screamed internally, this day just kept getting worse. 

After the lectures were over Donna had dragged me around the campus in search of Professor Cameron because she forgot to log her attendance. And then there was the student council meeting that ended with us having a mini party to celebrate the start of the semester. To conclude, I didn’t get a chance to do anything about the wetness in my panties. I was still hot, horny and absolutely frustrated. 

“Come on in Y/N,” our dorm supervisor said as I knocked on his door. “We have a new student who needs a buddy, I hope you won’t mind,” he said as soon as I entered. 

I internally sighed. There he was, Park Jimin, in all his delicious glory, standing in front of the desk. He gave me a smile as our eyes met. I quickly looked away, I felt guilty, just hours ago I had imagined him doing things to me as I played with myself. If he ever found out what I did, he’d think of me as some creep. 

“Of course not, welcome to Drake Hall Jimin!” I tried to sound welcoming but I was still horny and my state was only getting worse the more I looked at him. 

“Excellent, it's settled then! Y/N why don’t you show him the dorm,” yep, sure, why not. It’s not like I wanted to jump him then and there, rip his clothes off and ride him like a friggin pogo stick. 

It was well past midnight and I was all alone in the study room. I had given Jimin the standard dorm tour and then left him at his room, telling him to call me if he needed anything. I was his buddy after all. I groaned internally. It was like a meteor had hit my safe little planet and now it burned my body like never before. 

I slowly slid my hand down to the crotch of my cotton shorts and cupped myself, slightly humping into my hand. The feeling made me gasp but it wasn’t enough. I tugged the fabric to a side, revealing my pussy to the room. Nope, I wasn’t wearing any panties.  “Fuck you Park Jimin,” I gasped as I slid two fingers in easily, I was ready for a dick but my fingers would have to suffice. I slowly fucked myself, moving my hips to meet my fingers, trying my best not to make a sound. 

“Need some help?” a voice whispered in my ear. I squeaked and tried to get up but he pushed me down on the chair. “So you want to fuck me?” I could hear the smirk in Jimin’s voice. 

“Dream on loverboy,” I whispered back. His hand trailed down my arm and he cupped me over my hand. He buried his face in my neck, licking and biting until he heard my moan. He chuckled. 

“Tell me, were you imagining what my dick would feel like in this pussy?” he said as he slipped a finger into me. “What it’d be like to be fucked senseless?” another finger. “To be fucked so hard that it’d be impossible for you to walk the next day,” third finger. His voice was breathy, sending vibrations through my body. He refused to move his fingers.

“Stop teasing,” I said through gritted teeth as I forced myself not to hump on his fingers like a bitch in heat. 

“So eager, so wet for me,” he bit down on my neck as he finally started moving his fingers at a maddeningly slow pace. He licked and bit, leaving a trail of purple bruises. I desperately wanted to touch my breasts but he trapped my hands in his other hand. Not allowing me to touch myself.

“Faster,” I commanded.

“No,” he chuckled. Why was he so frustrating? 

“Please ..” I whined.

“Please what?”

“Please make me cum on your goddamn fingers,” I begged.

“As you wish,” he earnestly started fucking me with his fingers. The room was filled with unholy squelching sounds. I couldn’t move my hands, he was holding them too tight. I couldn’t kiss him because he refused to leave me neck, the only thing I could do was gasp and moan. 

I could feel the pressure building in my abdomen as he fucked my mercilessly. He curled his fingers and I came undone. My orgasm exploded through me, literally, I squirted all over his fingers. He kept going, helping me ride out the pleasure. Finally he withdrew his fingers and patted my crotch as I went limp in the chair, all blissed out.

“Good night princess,” he lightly kissed me on the cheek and left. 

#bts smut #bts fluff #jimin smut #college au #jimin x reader #jimin x you #pink jimin #bts jimin #jimin fluff #bcc #btscreatorscorner #sugar

[gasolineghuleh]

ODC Chapter 1

I never put chapter one separately on Tumblr, oops.

Below the cut is the first chapter of my currently on going long fic, featuring my OC. The entirety is available on ao3. 

The wind whipped and whirled through my hair, billowing my skirts around my feet as I clung desperately to my umbrella, hoping against hope that the rain lashing down around me hadn’t soiled the books under my arm. I clutched my small bundle tighter and leaned into the wind, struggling up the sleet slicked hill under my feet. The cobblestones were soaked, and traction is hard to come by, especially on these older roads. One of the street lamps softly illuminating the road blinked twice before extinguishing, plunging me into a darkness that’s only permeated by the occasional flashes of lightning and the moon, shrouded in clouds.

A soft whimper left me as I attempted to tuck my hair back behind my ear, the wind having torn it loose of my already loose ponytail. I’ve seen it storm before, but never this badly… and never with this oppressive feeling behind it. Certainly, my small convent had weathered its fair amount of storms, and I didn’t feel any worry for the stone walls. The air felt thick and heavy, as though I was breathing through a soaked rag. It was suffocating and almost panic inducing. I stopped for a moment, looking down the street from whence I came. A small tickle in the back of my mind told me that something was off. Something was wrong.

The bookstore I had just left had turned its sign off, leaving that area of the street in darkness save for one single light, an uncomfortable shade of scarlet just outside of a café. I’ve never eaten there personally, but I’ve certainly heard the rumours of… unusual clientele. Images of hooded and masked figures flashed through my mind and I cringed into myself, clutching my books tighter. Almost on instinct my gaze turned to the cliff that loomed above the town as a flash of lightning illuminated the outline of a large ruined castle, stark against the blackened and angry sky. With a yelp, I scurried down the alleyway nearest to me in an attempt to dodge the worst of the rain. I may be straying from the Church of Our Lady, but I believed in consequences at heart.

Spotting an awning in the alleyway, I took a moment to duck underneath it to take a respite from the rain. I was finally able to relax somewhat now that the rain was no longer pelting me, and I took some deep breaths, leaning against the brick wall that I had found myself beside. With a furtive glance to the side, I took the time to unwrap my newly gotten books from their linen wrappings and smiled to myself when I noticed that they’ve managed to remain dry. The smell of the leather greeted me warmly as I ran my fingers over it, feeling the bumps and ridges on the cover. Whorls of shadow coursed their way up the front of the book before dipping around to the inside, causing the cover to be lifted slightly off of the first page.

I sighed deeply and placed my hand on the cover, the warm leather thrumming with barely contained life under my fingers. The moment passed, and I rewrapped my parcel and stepped back into the rain as my umbrella shielded me once more. Steeling my resolve, I made my way back up the street as the cobblestones slipped and slid under my thick soled heeled boots. My convent wasn’t too far away now, but it’s up a steep hill and I knew I would need all of my strength to climb it, especially in the now-approaching-hurricane type rains.

The wind tugged and pulled at my umbrella but I pressed on, my long skirt whipping back and forth under the gale onslaught. The sidewalk was empty save for myself, and I startled slightly when a large, white limousine car passed me by. It passed slowly, and I got the feeling along the back of my neck that something wasn’t quite right. Regardless, I could see the large gate of the convent looming in the distance and I ducked my head down, powering through the last of the steep hill.

I swung open the large, barred door to the convent and cursed inwardly. Ahead of me was one of my fellow Sisters, bounding towards me with her habit flying behind her as she practically skipped. She was beaming a smile right at me, and I felt compelled to smile back, even uneager as I was to see her. Sister Marta has always been a rightful ray of sunshine throughout the convent, and it’s hard not to return one of her sunny smiles, no matter how drenched to the bone I was.

“Sister Marta, hello,” I said, putting on some false cheeriness. Happy as she was, she was never particularly bright in the area of intellect or societal clues, something I had grown quite willing to manipulate recently.

“Sister Lunaria! Where have you been on this awful night? It’s raining fit for Revelation!” She smiled at her own joke and I groaned inwardly to myself, closing my eyes for a brief moment before responding.

“I had some errands to run. Mother Superior gave me the day, once I finished with my translations. Some pocket change later, and I’ve got a nice new book. I thought it sounded nice, on a night like tonight.” I looked out the window just as a flash of lightning sparked across the sky in a low, concerning arc. A brief thought of the trees in the orange grove being struck crossed my mind before I saw the face in the window and I gasped, all thought of the trees gone.

“Sister?” Marta moved to me and took my umbrella gently, leaning it against the stone wall to the side of me with a tenderness I’d come to expect from her. “You look as though you’ve seen a ghost!”

“Must um.. Must just be a chill, from the rain. I think I should retire, Marta.” I went to move towards the dormitory but stopped when she put her hand up, ticking one finger from side to side.

“Not quite yet! I need to see what book you got! Maybe I’ll want to borrow it when you’re done, silly.” A small spark of fear shot through me at the thought of her touching my new book-- my precious book that I spent six months of my earnings on, and that made my finger tips warm when I brushed against it, even through gloves. Even simply seeing it in that book store was enough for me to become beholden to it.

“Of course,” I said, gritting my teeth into a widened smile. Carefully I managed to unwrap the books, sliding the larger one forward so that it covered My book completely, showing her the cover. “It’s Anne of The Green Gables. I remember the matron at the orphanage reading it to me.” I managed, with some difficulty, to contort my face into something resembling nostalgic loss as I caressed the cover of it, keeping a tight grip on the other book underneath.

“Oh, Lunaria, that’s wonderful! What a grand idea!” Marta clapped her hands together in joy, gifting me with yet another beaming and sunny smile. “You should get that habit and wimple off, you’re probably bone cold!” It’s only now that she frets, shooing me towards the dorms. I supposed she’s on hallway duty tonight.

“Yes. Good night, Marta.” I started to leave before remembering to toss behind my shoulder a final farewell, “Go with God, Sister.”

Her own voice is muffled as she turns to leave, but I was sure that she gave the same farewell. She’s as to-the-letter as Novitiates can get within the Clergy. Finally alone I moved quickly to your private dorm, a gift now that I’m finally among the senior Sister’s in the convent. The door shut quietly behind me and once more, I ached desperately for a lock. Hedging my bets on solitude I moved towards my window, opening it and placing my hand below the pane. When I felt no water on my hand, I sat down in front of it and carefully unwrapped my parcel.

The book tumbled out of the linen wrapping and I grabbed it greedily, holding it to my chest like a lost child for a moment before settling it on my crossed legs. I brushed a hand over the cover again, snatching my hand back when it practically burnt me. Determination reignited, I brought both hands to my wimple and snatched it off of my head, my long lilac and white streaked hair falling around my face as you leaned back over the book.

This time when I touched it the cover was cooler. I opened the book delicately, running a finger down the first page as the black text seemed to leap out at me. In delicate, malicious lettering it spelled:

Malleus Lexicana

A chill ran up the base of my spine to tickle at my neck as I brushed my finger over the words. They were slightly raised, as if inked over and over again. When I turned the page, a single name was inscribed there in jagged, neat handwriting. Emeritus. I frowned to myself, recalling my past lessons in Latin. Was I correct in assuming that the owner of this book was a deceased Pope? My hand twitched with the urge to cross myself and I quelled it easily. The desire to step away from my faith has gotten only stronger since I first brushed against the book all those months ago, and even my nightly prayers have gone unsaid for weeks now. Taking a deep breath, I spoke the words aloud.

“Malleus lexicana,” I breathed. The words felt both foreign and natural on my tongue as they rolled past my lips and my breath caught in your chest as the book seemed to warm again in my grasp. I turned the page once more and stopped at a beautiful illustration of a cross. Fingers fumbling for my own crucifix at your neck, I studied the detailed drawing before realizing that it's shaped incorrectly.

A new child… Birthed into sin.

“My Lord?!” I gasped, dropping the book as I rose up onto my knees, gripping my crucifix tightly in the palm of my hand. A cold finger trailed up my spine once more, twirling some of the hair at the nape of my neck and leaving me shivering in fear and frigidity.

Of sorts… But not your Lord, little Sister.

“Who are you? Where are you?” I asked, whirling around onto one foot and knee to look behind me into the darkest depths of my small room. It was empty, although the pitch blackness seemed to writhe and curl inward on itself-- it felt sentient and ominous, watching me. Another deep breath to steel myself once more and I picked up the book again, settling back down in front of the window as a small gust of air moved my hair from my pale face. I squinted slightly, the vision in my white eye better for text than my other.

Turning the page revealed more words, again in some bastardization of Latin. It wasn’t the high form of Latin that I’d been taught, although some of the words are recognisable to me at first glance. It seemed to be a prayer of some sort, I thought to myself as my finger glided down the thick page. It ended on the word “nemA” and my felt my heart catch in my chest before beating rapidly. The sacrilegious undertones of the text were quickly becoming apparent and I found myself excited by the prospect.

Come to me, Sister. Renounce this coven.

“It’s not a coven, it’s a convent,” I mumbled out loud, no longer questioning the odd dialogue that I had going with the disembodied voice. Perhaps it was the book speaking to me, and perhaps it was my God questioning the strength of my waning faith. I deserved to have it questioned, did I not? So many nights spent in quiet contemplation of my life and the years I have left to live… likely stuck in the same black habit and small convent that I served already, at nineteen years.

Are they not the same thing, when serving a Lord that one cannot see, nor touch, nor feel? Do you feel His presence inside of you, Sister?

I paused, my finger still on the ending of the prayer as I contemplated the voice’s words to me. Thinking back over the past months, I realized as my heart dropped into my stomach that I hadn’t felt the presence of anything that I would consider myself particularly beholden to. Every waking moment had been spent doing my chores for a meager amount of money so that I could purchase the book. My book.

Ahh, there we are Sister. Come to me.

“I don’t even know where you are!” I closed the book, setting it gently to the side before standing and looking out the window as if to see where the voice is coming from. The darkness yielded no answers to me, and I felt childish for seeking them there. The storm beat down harsher than ever and the genuine fear of a flood breezed past my thoughts. A flash of lightning arced across the skies once more, lighting up the vineyard bright as day. A small part of me hoped to see someone or something in the distance, but the light revealed nothing out of the ordinary.

I am not out there, Sister. Your naivety is showing. I cannot wait to urge it out of you.

“Well if you’re not out there, then where are you?” I whirled around to face my room again, the shadows in the farthest reaches of the room seemingly darker. Impenetrable. Answerless, cold, and quiet. I would find no answers there, either.

I can see what you see not, Sister. Your vision milky, then eyes rot…

I squinted slightly as I looked deeper into the shadows, leaning towards them in an attempt to pierce the darkness. Something was moving in the darkness, wriggling and pulsating as I stared at it. At a sudden movement towards me, I took a half step back in shock, gasping as I collided with my wall. Tendrils of shadow writhed at the corners of my vision and I gripped onto the side of my bed as a wave of dizziness overtook me.

Now you can see what cannot be… Shadows move where the light should be. Out of darkness, and out of mind.

“What are you doing to me?” I whispered, my voice tearing with fear as my eyes refused to leave the spot that the shadows danced. A gust of wind through my open window disturbed the smoky shadow and it scattered quickly, only to reform in the basic shape of a man. I briefly recognized it at the silhouette of the hunched man who worked in the book store.

Pressing myself farther against the wall, my hand flew on instinct to the crucifix around my neck. My heart beat pounded in my ears as the sharp corner of the cross pressed painfully into my palm. The shadow figure staggered closer to me, one arm raised slightly as it approached. It was all I could do to remain silent in my fear as it made its way shambling towards me. Its jaw dropped open as it spoke in old Latin, and it took me a moment to realize that the thing’s mouth wasn’t moving as it spoke.

Its hand came to my forehead, and I felt the touch of old and weathered skin against mine as it pressed gently against me. More Latin fell from its desiccated lips as I watched in horror. My body felt unbearably cold, and then blisteringly hot. I broke into a feverish sweat as the thing finished speaking, pressing harder on my head before pulling back altogether.

I felt my vision beginning to swim as my eyes rolled back into my head from dizziness and managed to get my back against my bed as I fell. I blinked twice, and fell into a dreamless sleep.

“Sister?” I awoke to a pounding on my door, and my head pounding with it. Struggling to sit upright, I looked over at my clock on the wall. 9 am, and I was due for chores. I called something unintelligible out to the person in the hallway as I swung my legs over the side of my bed and attempted to stand. Almost instantly a wave of nausea and dizziness overtook me and I shot out a hand to brace myself on the wall. Bile rose in my throat and I swallowed hard before calling to the person again.

“Enter, please. I need assistance.” My stomach roiled as I sat, closing my eyes to attempt to ebb the waves of nausea coursing through me. I heard the door creak as it opened, and cracked open one eye to see Sister Marta entering. Of course. “Sister Marta, good morning.”

“You don’t look well, Sister…” Marta came to stand before me as she rested the back of her hand gently against my forehead. As much as I hated to admit it to myself, her hand was cool against my skin and the gesture was welcomed. She brushed back a strand of my hair as she cupped my face, lifting my head slightly to look at me. “I’ll tell the Mother Superior that you’re ill. Perhaps you should lie down.” Almost as an afterthought she added, “I’m sorry to see you without your headdress, Sister, but your hair is beautiful. As striking as your eyes.” I cracked open my left eye and regarded her lightly before drifting it closed again.

“Thank you. Would you help me lie down before you leave?” I’d never felt this weak before, and I was becoming concerned for my own health. Sister Marta put her hand gently around my upper arm and lifted my woolen blankets with the other as she assisted me under them. My heart warmed for a moment as I felt her tuck me in and adjust my pillow.

“Would you like me to bring you some broth in a while?” she asked, moving towards my window and drawing the curtains. I heard her pause, and I tensed in apprehension. Had she seen the book? “No wonder you’re feeling ill, Sister Lunaria! You let your window open all night.” She tutted to herself and slid the glass pane shut, locking it into place and securing the curtains tightly so that the morning sun was dimmed.

“Oh, how silly of me. Of course. I must just have some type of flu,” I said, pulling the covers over my head as I hunkered down into my pillow. In truth, my head was pounding fit to burst and I felt dangerously close to vomiting. I heard Sister Marta make her way back to my door and pull it open.

“I’ll let the rest know that you’re unwell today, and tell them to give you some space while you recover. Would you like the broth for lunch?” she queried. I snaked an arm out from under my comforter and gave her a thumbs up, which seemed to satisfy her. A moment later and the door clicked shut once more, leaving me in silence.

I fell into an uneasy seep, tinged with dreams of reaching darkness and a single white eye to match my own.

When I awoke, my room was lit by the afternoon sun and the curtains had been drawn back from my window. A mug rested on my nightstand with a covering on top, and I placed my hand hesitantly against the ceramic. Still warm. Sister Marta must have kept to her word and brought me some broth for lunch. I struggled to sit up in my bed and drew the mug close to myself, inhaling the steam before taking a sip.

The broth was welcome as I sat and rested, taking deep and steadying breaths. The nausea had abated almost entirely, though I was still dizzy. I drained the mug and placed it back onto my nightstamp, wiping the back of my mouth on my bicep as I stood and moved towards the window. I swore quietly to myself when I kicked something heavy, and looked down to see the book.

“Shit,” I mumbled as I picked it up. Sister Marta must have seen it, as it was laying in plain sight. Almost instantly the warm from the book invaded my senses again and I felt myself growing stronger, throwing off the cold that seemed to have gripped me when I woke up. My crucifix hung heavy and cold against my chest, and I eyed it for a moment before looking at the book once more. “Tell me how to reach you,” I said, hoping that the book would respond… That I wasn’t insane.

Your mind will guide the way. Come to me, Sister.

“If I come to you… I won’t be a Sister anymore, will I?” It was a stupid question, but the answer surprised me.

Si, of a different sort. Come. Come.

The voice grew impossible to resist, and before I knew it, I found myself at the small closet in my bedroom. I pulled open the door and found a small bag I had stashed away in the back, and hastily folded my habits into it. I tossed in the rest of my underwear and tights, as well as an extra pair of shoes as well. Finally, I took the book into my hands and stared deeply into the cover for a moment, making the final decision in my mind.

“I’m coming. What do I call you?” The embarrassment of speaking to an inanimate object flares inside of me again as I shake my head and move towards my window, unlocking it and hurling it open. As I stick one leg out the window, the answer comes.

You call me Papa.

“Alright, Papa…” I start, grunting with effort as I duck through the small window and make the short drop to the ground below. The heels of my shoes dig into the softened Earth and I reel slightly, leaning back heavily against the wall of my convent for balance as I yank them free. “Looks like I’m coming.” Without stopping to think or renege on my decision I started off, my feet instinctively moving towards the cliff that bordered my town. The castle loomed high above me, and I swallowed hard as I steeled myself.

The path that led to the base of the cliff was easy enough to find and navigate. The sign posts throughout the town that had bore the name of the castle had all been scoured or burned away, which left me with a convenient trail to follow as I made my way towards it. At the base of the path that wound up the steep, rocky cliff, I found myself stopped by a wrought iron gate. It had the same odd cross design that I had found in the book carved into the metal, as chains held the gate shut. It stretched the expanse of the road and I huffed a sigh.

Let me get that for you, sorella.

I stepped back with a shocked gasp as the chains fell to the old and weathered cobblestones, the gate swinging open towards me on silent hinges. Though the iron was mottled with rust, it made no sounds as it opened, yawning open like a mouth waiting for me to enter. I took another deep breath and moved forward, hardly jumping when it clanged shut behind me, and chains wound back around it like live snakes.

The thick woods welcomed me into the all consuming darkness with a silence that settled on my ears like a blanket. It was dark and still, but I felt no fear. In the distance, a wolf howled alone and I felt the hair on the back of my neck prickle at the sound. Besides the wolf, however, there were no sounds within the thicket of trees. The path itself lay clear of any forest debris that I had expected to find after the storm last night, and seemed to be very well maintained.

Before long, I was panting as the slope of the path grew steeper. My legs burned and ached, and my feet protested any movement inside of my heeled shoes. I stopped to consider the drawbacks of removing them for a moment, before deciding that it was a necessity. I unhooked the buckle on either shoe before stepping out of them and carrying them in one hand, continuing up the path slightly slower, as I attempted to dodge the still standing puddles of water in my stocking-clad feet.

Finally, after what felt like hours I arrived at the base of the castle. As I expected from the view down below, it was in ruins. A large bell sat embedded into the cobbles in front of the entrance, a large crack running along the surface of it. It was golden, and embossed with the same sigil I had seen down below on the gates. Weeds grew between the stones unchecked, and pieces of stone lay scattered around the ground in front of me. I bent down and picked one up, weighing it in my hand before tossing it aside.

“Ah, you’ve arrived.” I started, looking up towards the entryway. A tall and poised woman was standing there, leaning slightly against the bell and regarding me with piercing blue eyes. She was dressed in a similar fashion to me, I noted with some surprise. A smart black dress hugged her frame, which she accessorized with a black blazer and a large silver necklace… that same sigil again. On her feet, nearly the same shoes that I had removed not long ago.

“Who are you?” I asked, picking my way carefully across the debris towards her. She held out a hand towards me with a smile, and I took it without thinking. Her hand was warm as she clasped mine, patting the top of my hand fondly with her other. Her smile reached her eyes easily, and I felt instantly calm.

“You may call me the Sister Imperator. I’m glad to see you’ve made it home safely.” My heart squeezed at her words. Home. I’d never had a proper one, being raised as an orphan, and the thought of having a true home was enough to bring tears prickling to my eyes.

“The book said… Papa was the one who called to me. Am I to meet with him?”

“Soon, child. Let’s get you inside and warmed up. We’ll get some food into that belly and a nice warm drink, I think. Then we can go through all of the introductions and explanations that I’m sure you want.” Her eyes left mine and traveled down my body to rest on my crucifix. “You are of the faith? Catholic?”

My own eyes dropped to the necklace hanging between my breasts as my hand came up to grip it. A million thoughts whorled through my mind before it landed on one that I was sure of: this place already felt more like home than anywhere else I’d ever been. I squeezed the cross tightly in my fist before tugging it, snapping the chain from around my neck. The silver chain dangled from my palm for a moment before I tossed it to the ground.

“No longer.”

#lorraine writes #fics #ghost #ghost bc #the band ghost #papa emeritus

[themattgirl]

Hiii, I was wondering if you could please do another part to breathless? I would like to see where she confronts the friend please?

Hii, I‘m sorry that this came so late. The past year has been shit and I just couldn’t motivate myself to write anything because i knew it’d be something depressing and I didn’t want to do that because that would result in me being even more depressed sooo anyway... I‘m finally back and ready to deliver. Enjoy, my lovelies! ✨

Please read Breathless first to understand this if you haven’t already.

Relentless

Sequel to Breathless

Right in front of the door a white Tesla is waiting for Y/N. The guy sitting behind the steering wheel is looking out of the rolled down window with a cigarette between his index and middle finger, facing the street opposite Y/N’s and her boyfriend’s living place. He jumps in shock when he turns his head to face the person who cleared their throat only to find Harry standing there bent down and looking down at the smoker.

“This spot isn’t for you to park your car in, sorry.” Harry speaks after the boy’s face doesn’t look like he just saw a ghost anymore.

“I was waiting for her actually,” he tells him a little nervous and points to Y/N behind Harry. “We’ll get lost in a sec, c’mon babe, get in.”

Harry turns around and looks at her just so the guy doesn’t see the smirk he can’t keep at bay. Y/N hides hers by licking her lips. Harry faces forward again, but points over his shoulder with his thumb. “Oh, you mean Y/N? Why would she get in your car? How do you know her?” he asks questions he knows the answers well enough to.

“We’ve been friends since forever. We were gonna hang out today, but I don’t understand how that would be any of your business.”

“Ah, sorry, yes. You don’t know me. Let me introduce myself.”

Harry walks around the front of the car to the passenger side, Y/N right on his heels. He opens the car door and slides himself into the seat, not shutting the door yet, but holding his hand out for the boy to shake. “I’m Harry Styles,” he puts on a smile that shows his dimples while Y/N climbs onto his lap, now straddling him.

She cups Harry’s face and turns it so he faces her and leans down to lock their lips. It was just a simple kiss, lips meeting lips.

“I’m Y/N’s boyfriend,” Harry tells him, the smile turning into a mischievous smirk when he feels his girlfriend’s lips on his neck. “Who are you?” he keeps talking as if Y/N isn’t sucking a hickey right below his ear.

“I-I didn’t... uhh. Woah, s-sorry I–” the boy stammers with wide eyes, his cigarette long fallen from between his fingers to the ground out of the window. Y/N doesn’t seem to care about anything he has to say, because after kissing the dark red spot on Harry’s jaw better, she grabs his face and turns his head to her again so she can connect their lips again. This time she uses her tongue, too. It’s not a simple kiss anymore, they are full on making out in the car of someone who only came because he expected to have his dick sucked in the next 20 minutes.

“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend, I was told you give head for free,” the poor boy seems very confused.

Y/N separates herself from Harry and faces the third wheeler, “I do, but that deal only applies to that one here, I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” Harry laughs.

“He’s right, I’m really not sorry at all.”

“Wait, so–” The guy starts but cuts himself off to think before deciding to speak again. “So, does that mean I’d have to pay? How much–”

This time it’s Harry who interrupts his talking, “No, you prick. It means the only dick she swallows is mine.”

He has been friendly throughout this whole exchange, but this is the moment he was waiting for so patiently. The moment this scumbag proves he is a scumbag. How dare he assume that precious Y/N would seriously do anything with him, that she would want to do it with him? How does he translate her sitting on Harry Styles’ lap, making out with him, giving him hickeys and even saying she doesn’t do whatever he heard she does into it meaning she’d suck his little thing for a ridiculous amount of money?

His stupid question got Y/N just as mad, he can see it in her face and hear it through the way her breathing changed. And as much as Harry wants to just punch that wanker in the face and cut the top of his head off to check if there’s a brain inside, he promised Y/N he’d let her handle it herself. She didn’t tell him what she was thinking of doing though, so he’s curious to see what her crazy mind came up with this time. He is also kind of apprehensive because he knows when Y/N gets mad, she gets mad mad. And to see the put on guilty look on her face already meant trouble for the tosser in the driver’s seat.

“The only person whose dick I take into my mouth is Harry’s and honestly it’s more than enough for me. He’s quite big, you know? He fills me out completely and not only my mouth, you should see us fuck. Oof. Look, I don’t usually have to gag from anything but sometimes when he’s fucking my mouth it just happens. I gag around him and I can’t help it, it’s just too much sometimes. Do you think your little friend would make me gag?” She speaks lowly, but somehow still sounds innocent in a way. Harry squeezes her hips in question after that last sentence but Y/N rubs his cheek with her thumb as a way of telling him she knows what she’s doing. He trusts her enough to relax again. She continues.

“Hm, we can’t check that obviously. But do you think I’d be overwhelmed if we tried? Imagine my lips wrapped around your cock, my hands gripping your thighs-” she places one hand on his thigh, “-because I can’t keep my balance from how hard you’d fuck my mouth. And tears starting to make my vision swimmy because you keep hitting the back of my throat with the head of your dick. Would I gag? Oh gosh, the imagination is starting to make me wet.” She starts rubbing his thigh, very close to his crotch but not quite where he needs her hand to be.

“I wish I was in a bed right now, getting fucked. Sex with Harry is incredible, he’s very good in bed. Are you? Do you think you’d hit all my right spots? Well, Harry knows everything about me already so I guess it’d be unfair to compare, right? In fact, he knows me so well he can make me cum with his fingers in only fife minutes. Oh and one time – actually, it was more than once – it took him only seven minutes with his tongue on my pussy to get me there. It was phenomenal. God, I remember how hard I came. I doubt you could do that to me but I bet I could bring you to cloud nine really fast.” She hears his breath picking up and getting heavier.

“I won’t do anything with you obviously, but still. I know I could. Oh my God, maybe you could watch? Wouldn’t that be nice too? Me and The Harry Styles getting each other to cum multiple times? Do you like it soft or rough? You look like someone who likes rough sex. Maybe you could watch Harry tie me up and fuck me until I’m screaming. Or would you rather enjoy it if we’d tie you to a chair and make you watch us doing all the things you wish you could do. Yeah, you’d like that, huh?”

Finally, when Y/N looks down on his lap she sees the bulge in his jeans and retrieves her hand from his thigh. She leans more into him and notices his eyes fluttering shut. When her mouth hovers in front of his ear she whispers, “Go get yourself someone else to take care of your little problem here because I surely won’t.”

She pulls back, pecks Harry’s lips once and gets off his lap and out of the car. Harry throws in a quick “It was nice meeting you” and hurries after Y/N who is already walking in the direction of her own car.

Once he catches up to her and they both get in the car, he waits until she drives off before he speaks.

“What the fuck was that?”

Y/N knows he isn’t mad, but she can hear how thrown off he is. He certainly did not expect this.

“Got him hard and left him to go home with blue balls. Good, huh?” she smiles, but doesn’t take her eyes off of the road.

Harry is silent for a few long seconds, which worries her a little, but then he laughs out loud, even throwing his head back and clapping his hands twice. “Amazing!”

Y/N relaxes and chuckles along with him.

“You said you were getting wet, though. Were you?” he asks when the laughter dies down.

“Ew, no. Are you crazy? I probably would have if it wasn’t for him being there and me bringing up his dick throughout the whole... story.”

“Yeah, same.” Harry agrees.

“You would’ve been hard from what I said?” Y/N smirks and glances at him for only a second before watching the road again.

“Shut up,” he laughs. “Where’re we going?”

“Kickin’ ass.”

Once in Y/N’s ex-best-friend’s dorm room, their mood changes completely. The first thing they see is a poster on the wall next to the small single bed with a shirtless Harry Styles on it.

“Oh God,” Harry murmurs behind his girlfriend.

“What are you doing here?” Jade, the owner of the room asks.

“You hang up a poster of my boyfriend right after I move out?” Y/N ignores her question and throws in one of her own instead.

“Not a poster of your boyfriend. A poster of Harry Styles, the singer I have liked ever since I discovered music.” Jade tries to explain.

“The singer who happens to be my boyfriend. And it’s a shirtless picture, for fuck’s sake. If it was anyone else’s room I wouldn’t care to look twice and laugh about it. But the facts it’s you just makes it weird.”

“It’s not weird, it–” Y/N cuts off whatever bullshit Jade was about to say.

“It is weird and you know it. Or else you wouldn’t have waited until I was gone to hang it up.”

“Why are you here anyway?” She asks when she fails to think of something to say to Y/N’s fact.

“Get the rumours out of the world,” Y/N crosses her arms over her chest while demanding it, Harry doing the same behind her.

“Or what?” Jade has the audacity to ask.

“You don’t want to risk finding it out. Do what I said.”

“I’m not scared of you, princess. And how would I even do that anyway?”

“The same way you started it, princess. I don’t care how you do it. Go on, I’ll wait here until it’s done.” she leans back against Harry who is quick to wrap his arms around her from behind.

“If so then you can move back in, ‘cause I won’t be doing shit. It’s your problem, not mine.”

“Oh, is that so?” Y/N smiles devilishly. That’s exactly how she expected this conversation to go. Honestly, she hoped it would.

She walks further into the room and sits down on the chair by the desk, Harry behind her with his hands on her shoulders and Jade’s open laptop in front of her. She closes all the open tabs – and if there was an unsaved 28k word document then oops – before opening Twitter. Luckily Jade was logged in, just like she expected.

“I wanted to give you the chance to choose what you want to say to clear things up, but it looks like I’m gonna have to do it myself. And it’s gonna end up bad. For you, obviously.” she chuckles quietly before she starts typing away on the keyboard of the laptop in front of her and reads word for word out loud for Jade to hear.

“Get your hands off my stuff!” Jade steps forward to try and stop Y/N but Harry quickly gets in the way. He doesn’t even have to touch her, all he does is block her way to Y/N.

Y/N types and reads, “Hello dear twitties.”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh.

“Ridiculous, right? That’s how she starts off every single one of her Tweets,” Y/N laughs with him. “Anyway, how should I start this?”

Jade tries to get a word in but Harry speaks over her. “Make her admit she’s a liar and make her sound like a crazy bitch.”

“Mmh, I like that,” Y/N turns her head and smiles up at him, “Gimme a kiss.”

Harry leans down with a smile and does so.

Y/N faces the laptop again and starts typing, “I’m sure you all remember my post about Y/N giving BJs on campus for free. This is embarrassing to admit, but it was a lie. So I would like to apologise to her and to all of the guys who got turned down by her because of that lie. I have some good news for you, though. I did it because I wanted to see if there would actually be people contacting her and now that I’ve seen it work, I’d like to announce that I’m taking her place. I’ll be the one to suck you off. Please leave her alone and call me instead.”

“Wait, I’ll give you her phone number,” Harry suggests and fishes Y/N’s phone out of her jeans. Once the number is typed beneath the text she clicks the Tweet button so it’s for everyone to see. Then she closes everything again, but before she can shut the laptop, the picture Jade has saved as her screen wallpaper catches her eye. Not only is it a picture of Harry, but one where she herself is edited into it so it looks like he is kissing her cheek.

“Alright, this is getting too weird. C’mon babe, let’s get outta here.” Harry pulls Y/N up off the chair and leads her out of the room.

“This is a joke, right? She can’t be that sick,” Y/N murmurs more to herself than to anyone else.

“Let’s just go get you a new phone number, please.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles request #harry styles fluff #harry styles drabble #harry styles smut #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles filth #harry styles writing #harry chats

[inkandpen22]

Young Hearts Divided (6/?)

Pairing: Sirius Black x Female!Reader / James Potter x Female!Reader 

Warnings: Swearing, Smut, mentions of underage drinking

Word Count: 3.3k

Part Summary: Y/N, James, and Sirius wake up the day after the party with no recollection of what happened. Then, while Y/N is studying with Lily it hits her like a ton of bricks. 

Masterlist

Massive, horrible, no good, very bad, migraine. This day is going to be miserable. All I can do is thank the universe that we don’t have classes today. I did, however, promise Lily that I’d help her on our Potions project. Marlene is our other partner, but based on the fact that she’s wasn’t moving this morning, I don’t think she’s going to make it.

Gathered around our usual spot at the Gryffindor table, I spot my friends as soon as I enter the Dining Hall. Lily and Remus appear normal, along with Peter. James and Sirius, look like real shit. James’s head keeps slipping out of his hand and Sirius is sporting sunglasses, real unsuspicious. I ease down onto the bench beside Lily with a groan. Similar to James, I rest my chin in my hand, barely awake.

“And it’s alive,” Lily teases, already pouring me some much-needed coffee.

“Gremlins are pickaxing my brain,” I whine.

“That’s what you get for dividing up a bottle of Firewhiskey with Marlene,” she ridicules lightly.

“What?” I frown. “I don’t remember doing that?”

“What do you remember?” Remus interjects, his eyes peeking out over his book.

I struggle to recall much of anything. I remember the game, getting back to the tower, changing, people arriving at the Common Room.

“Do you remember dancing on the table?” Lily snickers, picking up my plate to make it.

My jaw drops, “I did what?!”

“Oh yeah!” Peter lights up.

James starts to giggle, “hehe, I remember.”

I reach across the table weakly and bop him on the head.

“Ouch! Headache!” He whines and rubs his hair to ease the assault.

“I don’t remember that,” Sirius finally speaks up, his voice groggy.

“You don’t?!” James gasps, glancing at his best friend beside. “It was the best thing I’ve ever seen! She looked like a goddess, by far the best dancer to ever be in Gryffindor! Oh, and let me remind you of the red leather skirt! I-”

“Thank you, James!” I shut him down before he gets started. “We get it!”

“No, I don’t think we do,” Sirius snickers and nudges his friend to go on.

James shifts in his seat to face Sirius, “well you see, it had two zip-”

With a stone-faced expression, Remus closes his book with a deep sigh and swats James on the back of the head.

“Ouch! Headache!” James shouts at his friend on his other side.

Remus ignores him fussing and opens his book to where he left off.

James mumbles complaints under his breath as he turns back to face the table. He rubs the back of his head with a pout.

“Did anything else happen?” I question, almost afraid to ask.

“I don’t remember what you did after that,” James informs.

“Sirius was the one who got you down,” Remus interjects, not even glancing up from his textbook.

My attention flickers from Remus to Sirius. He removes his sunglasses and peers past James at his studious friend. His brows are scrunch together in evident confusion.

“I did?”

Remus hums while he flips his page. “Like you Santa Clause with his sack.” His eyes quickly meet mine, “not to compare you to a heavy sack of toys, Y/N.”

“You’re fine, Remus,” I dismiss, knowing that boy would never intentionally insult me.

Sirius hum, visibly racking his mind to the memory. “What about after that?” He questions.

“Don’t know,” Remus mumbles. “You disappeared after that.”

Sirius looks at me and I hold up my hands. “No idea,” I tell him.

“Well you guys ended up in your beds, so you probably helped her to bed,” Peter reasons.

Sirius and I nod in unison, trying really hard to remember, but to no avail. Then, we shrug and continue with breakfast. It’ll come to us eventually. Peter is probably right, Sirius and I have gotten drunk together loads of times. We always end up in our beds at the time of night somehow. It was probably just like any other night.

__________________________________________

Lily and I have been in the library for most of the afternoon trying to finish up this stupid project. I swear Slughorn has it out for us. He wants us to fail his class and glorify the kids in his idiotic Slug Club like dear Lily here. My mind starts to wander to breakfast this morning which makes me think of last night. I can’t believe Marlene and I danced on the study table to Bowie. Then again, Marlene would make that happen.

“Are you excited about Hogsmeade this weekend?” Lily asks quietly as she writes.

I sway my head from side to side. “Kinda, I’m sorta nervous to go with James.”

“Take me then,” she jokes.

I laugh for a second, then a sudden sense of deja vu crosses my mind. My face falls and I lean forward. “Could you repeat that?” I whisper so Madame Prince doesn’t hear me.

She peers up from her paper, “I was just kidding-”

“No, yeah I know, just say it again,” I wave along.

“Take me then?” She repeats slowly, staring at me like I have three heads.

I repeat the phrase in my head like a broken record. Where have I heard that before? It sounds so familiar like it’s important or something. Then, it hits me like a smack across the face.

“Holy-” I cover my mouth.

Madame Prince shushes me instantly. “No yelling!”

Lily struggles not to burst out laughing. “What was that about?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all,” I blurt out and hurry to gather my things. I rise from my seat and start shoving things into my bag. “Excuse me!”

“Where are you going?!” Lily raises her voice.

“I have to...” I hesitate, I don’t have an excuse. “I’ve got to go!”

I briskly turn on my heels to head toward the door. Instead, I slam into someone. I stumble back but catch myself. My eyes are met with Sirius stabilizing his balance.

“You!” We say in unison.

“No, you!” We point at each other.

Madame Prince shushes us dramatically. “If you must talk, take it out in the hall!”

Sirius takes my hand against my will and drags me out into the hallway. He checks up and down the corridor and determines there are too many people. Since it's a Sunday, most students hang out around the castle. I struggle to keep up with his pace as he yanks me along to a nearby classroom. He swings open the door and peeks his head inside.

"Sirius, it's all dusty!" I complain, digging my heels into the stone floor.

He pulls me in first, completely ignoring me.

I grunt, stumbling to catch my footing. When I manage, I brush down my skirt and face Sirius as he latches the door. “Was that really necessary?!”

He spins on his heels and points at me accusingly. "We shagged last night!”

“Almost! Okay? Almost!” I emphasize.

“Okay, fine! We almost shagged!” He complies, holding his hands up in surrender.

I'm slowly starting to recall the experience in the alcove. There was a lot of biting, teasing, swearing, hair pulling...

Sirius raises a brow, "what stopped us anyway?”

“Fitch and Mrs. Norris doing their nightly rounds. We almost got caught!” I hiss under my breath, worried that someone walking by may overhear.

His confused expression doesn't disappear. In fact, it intensifies as he narrows his gaze at the floor trying to pinpoint it all together. “And I didn’t try to continue once we were in the clear?”

“No, you were the one who suggested we head back so I wouldn’t get a third detention," I remind him of that crucial point.

Sirius's face morphs as if he's been told the world is coming to an end, a mixture of devastation and regret. Yet, also wonder, as though he's mentally asking him 'did I honest-to-God do that?'

“I chose then to be a rule-abiding student?!” He shouts.

“For my sake!” I justify in a whisper-yell. "We need to be quiet or-"

“Ugh!" Sirius paces away, hiding his face in his hands. "I really hate myself right now," he groans.

“Sirius!”

He whips around and complains. “What?! Can you blame a guy?! We were this close,” he gestures with his fingers.

I sigh, trying to remain civil. If we keep shouting someone will hear us then we will for sure get detentions.

"Look, it’s probably for the best!” I try to look on the bright side. “We were drunk.”

He whines, stomping his foot with a pout etched on his lips. He grumbles, “it would’ve been drunken...sloppy..." a dazed expression crosses his eyes. "Sweaty...  passionate-”

“Sirius!” I stop him, covering my ears as I grimace.

“I know! I know! Shut up, Sirius!” He mimics my voice.

There’s a prolonged pause as the two of us avoid meeting eyes. Well, this is awkward... Crossing my arms over my chest, I lean against a nearby desk. After a moment, I glance up from my shoes and Sirius’s eyes are narrowed, focused ahead on the wall.

I break the silence monotonously, “you’re still thinking about it aren’t you.”

“Yes!” He whines, failing about dramatically.

“Stop thinking about it!” I demand.

“I can’t! While you were in the library with Evans, James and I snuck into your room so he could show me the red skirt in hopes that I would remember!” He confesses and instant regret crosses his features.

My jaw drops and I storm across the room to him. "You’re kidding me!”

“That’s when it hit me! Everything! Then, I ran to find you!” He waves his hand, gesturing to me.

“Where was Marlene?!”

Forget staying quiet, that was before I knew Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum broke into my dorm!

“Oh, she was there," he nods, not caring in the slightest. "Yeah, she was passed out in bed.”

"You went in there when she was sleeping?!” I laugh breathlessly in disbelief. My fingers comb through my hair as I try to rack my brain around this new information.

“It’s not like we haven’t snuck in there before,” he adds as a side-note casually.

“What?!” I gasp.

Sirius quietly curses himself. “Never mind!” He rushes out.

I march toward the door. “I’m going to kill Potter!" I unlatch the lock and go to open it. "Then, I’m going to come back and kill you!”

Sirius jogs after me. "No, wait!”

He slams the door shut, pressing his palm against the wood beside my head. My fist remains around the handle and I feel Sirius close in on me. The warmth of his breath brushes against my neck and chills run down my spine. His free hand glides across my waist and gives it a squeeze. I turn my head to the side, glancing at me him out of the corner of my eye. He towers over me, leaning against the door. His fingertips glide down my hips to the end of my skit and play with the hem. I spin on my heels to face him, my back now pressed to the door.  

“Sirius, we can’t,” I whisper, meeting his gaze.

“Sure we can," he steps closer if that's even humanely possible. "Filch is busy with detention right now and there aren’t any classes,”

“What is someone who walks in and sees us?” I question, my eyes falling to his lips uncontrollably.

"Let them," he mutters carelessly.

Slowly, Sirius closes the space between us and brushes his lips against mine. At first, the action is steady and gentle as though we're getting reacquainted. Then, growing impatient, Sirius wraps his hand around the back of my neck and deepens the kiss at an exceptional rate. I drape my arms around his shoulder, yearning for me. He drops his arm from the door and picks up my legs. I wrap them around his torso instinctively as he walks me over to a nearby desk.

“I let bet that even turns you on. The idea of someone seeing me pleasure you," he mumbles against my lips. His hands wander from my knees and up my thighs to the hem of my skirt. "The way I can make you wet just by touching you." He breaks away from my lips and impulsively presses his palm to my core.

The sudden contact makes me shutter.

A light snicker escapes Sirius. "Does it turn you on when I brush against you in class? What about all those drunken times we stayed up late?” He rubs his fingers against the fabric of my panties at a painfully slow rate.

“Sirius...” I whisper like a plead.

“Next class, I’m going to sit next to you," he states sounding like a command. "Marlene and James are just going to have to deal with it."

Grazing his fingertips over my hip bone to the hem of my panties, he starts to remove the item from my body. He does it so gracefully like the action is an art form. Sirius disregards the article of clothing by tossing it to the floor without much thought.

He brings his lips to my neck and begins to grant it immense attention. “I’m going to place my hand on your thigh under the desk," he describes as his palms press into my thighs. "As the professor talks, I’ll slowly bring it up to your leg. I’ll slip it under your annoyingly short skirt and your panties," he performs the actions as he recites them. "I’ll feel just how wet you are for me and I bet you’re always dripping when you’re around me."

His fingertips slip between my folds and I gasp. My fingers grip the hair at the nape of his neck in reaction to the surge of pleasure.

“I’ll make you cum right in class," he purrs, evidently pleased with himself right now. "Right around my fingers."

My breathing starts to get heavy as he rubs pressurized circles over my clit. I bite down on my lip to defuse my moans.

"From now on, I’ll constantly be teasing you, making you wet every chance I get," he breathes against my neck. "I’ll get you wet for me in the dining hall and make you beg for me to take you back to the dorm."

He picks up his pace, brushing his fingers against my clit. I feel myself quickly approaching my climax. His antagonizing words don't help my self-control.

"I’ll take you in the back shelves of the library," he snickers wickedly. "Make you want to scream my name for everyone to hear.”

“Stop...” I beg, the pleasure starting to be too much.

Abruptly, Sirius grabs my face and makes me meet his gaze. Starring at me sternly, he slips two fingers into my core unapologetically. My hands grip his waist pleadingly, but he continues his assault.

“You’re such a tease, Y/N and you don’t realize," he snickers wickedly as he brushes against my G-spot relentlessly. "With your short skirts, your perfect lips, the way you look at me." He leans in, peering down at my lips to tease me. "You get me so hard. All I want to do is take you into an empty classroom every second of every day, bend you over a desk, and punish you for it. I want to make you feel how I feel.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. “Oh fuck,” I whimper.

“I see the way all the boys look at you, especially James. They imagine what it would be like to be inside you. But you’re mine, aren’t you? Only I can fuck you. Only I can make you cum so hard that you shake. Only I can fuck after you finish and make you beg for me to stop.”

"Sirius, I-" I gasp, the pleasure building up in my core is close to reaching its peak.

Sirius dismisses my pleading and grows more forceful. He gathers bits of my hair and tugs at them to make me reveal my neck. “I can make you cum with my hard dick inside you. I can make you hit your climax right here," he growls in my ear.

His fingers pump in and out at an increased rate, causing me to release a moan uncontrollably. I bite down on my lip, doing my best to suppress it.

"Would you scream for me, Baby?" He kisses my jawline softly. "Would you let me fuck you hard after?” He moves and plants a kiss on my neck.

I feel my walls tightening around his fingers as I drag my nails down his back.

“You’re close aren’t you, Love? You want to cum for me?” He grins against my shoulder.

“Yes,” I pant pleadingly.

I hate giving in to him, adding to his ego, but I need this. I need him.

"You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes please,” I beg, struggling to catch my breath.

He presses his lips to mine passionately with more intensity than ever before. “That’s right, beg for it, such a good girl,” he mumbles against my lips.

Overwhelmingly, hits my G-spot with perfect pressure and at an ungodly rate. “I want to cum for me. You’re already so fucking wet for me. I could fuck you so hard right here, right now. Imagine me pounding into you," he instructs as I feel myself on the edge of my climax.

I dig my nails into his shoulder blades. I'm nearly there. "Sirius, I'm-"

Suddenly, Sirius slips his fingers out and takes a step back, parting from me entirely. My eyes fly open and I watch as the boy gazes at me mischievously with his fingers in his mouth. Casually, he picks up my panties and tosses them back to me with a proud smirk. Dumbfounded, I hold the item in my hands utterly confused. Sirius stuffs his hands into his pocket, waiting for me to say something.

I shift my head forward, "that’s it?”

“Umm, yeah pretty much,” he shrugs with a light chuckle.

Merlin, he had this planned! He was fucking with me the entire time! I'm not sure how much of it was a game, but he purposefully got me close and pulled out!

I hop down from the desk with a huff and slip my panties back on. "What the fuck Sirius?!”

He eyes me up and down as though he's analyzing a product. “Yeah no, I’m not going to fuck you, yet! You don’t deserve it," he determines.

I raise my brows, "don’t deserve it?!”

“Yeah!" He repeats, shifting his head toward me mockingly. "You. Don’t. Deserve. Me,” he emphasizes each word. “Not until you decide between me and James, no sex!"

He reaches out and wraps his hand around the back of my neck, pulling me closer to him. I swat at his arm, but it only makes him grip harder. Hover inches from my face grins. "And let’s be honest here, Love. You’re going to pick me. It’s just a matter of when you’re going to admit to yourself that you love me.”

Suddenly, he presses his lips to mine forcefully and I try to shove him off of me, but he's too strong. Then, he finally releases me with a jolt. He turns toward the door to head out.

“Sirius, I-”

He spins on heels with a cheeky grin. “And you do love me, don't deny it. You said so yourself last night... multiple times actually," he winks.

I scoff, he's impossible! The most infuriating boy on the entire planet!

He strolls toward the door with a wave. "Bye!”

“You man-whore!” I shout at him, so close to just smacking him.

“Tease!” He tosses back lightheartedly. His self-satisfied state unfazed by my insult. “Gee, I just adore our little pet names! Ta-ta Love!” He waves his fingers mockingly before disappearing down the hall.

What the actual hell just happened?

__________________________________

Masterlist

Tags:  @hannah220506 @agirlwholovescoffee @a-classic-eye @devilstradegy @blackbirddaredevil23 @tay-mariee @blackpinkdolan @findzelda

#Sirius x Remus #Sirius Black #sirius #hp fanfic #hp ships #hp marauders #HP Fandom #HP #Harry Potter #Harry Potter Smut #harry potter au #harry potter fanfic #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #James Potter #james #Lily Potter #Lily Evans #remus x sirius #remus fanart #remus #Remus Lupin

[connordavidscamera]

Living, Learning, and Filming Ch. 4 | Connor Brashier

A/n: This chapter probably has the most changes because I hated it the first time around, so yeah.

Summary: No one thought a night out would end up like this.

Warnings: mentions of drinking, there’s a creepy guy who just doesn’t want to leave the reader alone (so keep that in mind), also mentions of being roofied (very minimal, but it is there) kinda angsty

Word count: 2.2k

***

Week 4

I didn’t want to come out tonight, let me just be clear. I wanted to stay in and work on the project because Connor and I filmed a lot these past few days. But my friend, Jamie, from down the hall wasn’t having it, which is why she forced me out of the dorm and to this “Halloween” party that I never would have gone to otherwise. I don’t like parties very much. I especially don’t like frat parties, which is where I’m at now. It’s crowded and nearly three-fourths of the people here are drunk off their asses. The rest aren’t quite there yet, but I give them about thirty minutes before they’re just as drunk as everyone else. 

The second we walk in, drinks are thrust into our hands; Jamie drinks hers without a second thought, I set mine down when no one’s looking. “I’m gonna see if I can find Rachel! I’ll be back!” Jamie says over the music and I nod, even though I know no one here and staying by myself in a place I'm not familiar with is not a good idea.

“Okay,” I say, but she’s already on her way to the back of the house. There’s so much going on around me and I hate it. It’s overwhelming actually, and there’s not a single place here that I can be alone - even the corners of the rooms are occupied. Mostly by couples unapologetically swallowing each other’s faces. 

“You look lost,” a guy says, suddenly appearing at my side.

“Oh, um. No, I’m fine.”

“You here alone?”

“Actually, my friend just went out back. She’ll be back in a minute.”

“Well how about I keep you company until then?”

“No, really, I’m okay,” I put my hand up subtly to keep distance between us.

“You gotta loosen up, babe. Come on, let’s get you a drink,” his arm snakes around my waist and my skin crawls.

“Thank you,” I say, squirming away from his heated, overbearing touch, “But I’m good. I don’t think I’m staying long.”

“Why not? We could hang out,” he says, wrapping his arm around my shoulders now and I hate it even more. He’s so close and he reeks of alcohol - in fact, he smells like he tipped over a liquor store. “I haven’t seen you at one of these before. I’m a bad host, not knowing everyone that comes.”

“I don’t really come to these things.”

“Why not? Don’t like parties?”

“You could say that,” I mumble, once again trying to create distance between us.

“Well, you’ve never been to one of mine. There’s nothing like them.”

“I’m sure.” I nod and glance around the room, trying to find literally anyone that I could possibly know that might be my excuse to leave this awkward and uncomfortable conversation.

The guy -  I still haven’t caught his name, but at this point, I don’t think he’s going to give it to me - places a cup in my hands. 

“What is it?”

“Rum and coke. Try it. You’ll like it.”

Something tells me that I shouldn’t drink it. And I know I should listen to that feeling, but I don’t because he’s staring at me and I can’t afford to be rude right now. So I take a sip. And one sip turns into another and another until I’ve finished the cup and he’s pouring me another one. 

---

There was something in it. I know there was, because I may not drink a lot, but I do know that I shouldn’t be this tipsy after only a drink and a half, even if he put two shots in each one. I know my limits, and what I drank wasn’t it. Luckily though, he didn’t put enough of whatever he put in my drink to do much - I’m just really, very dizzy.

I’m locked in one of the bathrooms in this suddenly giant house despite the abundance of people here. I can still feel his hands on me and I’m disgusted. Blinking slowly, I press the call button on the only number I can think of right now.

“Hello?” 

I close my eyes and rub my forehead. The fluorescent lights are doing me no favors.

“Y/n? Is everything okay?”

I take in a shuddery breath and grasp the sink to keep me steady. “Connor.”

“I’m here, honey. What’s wrong?” His voice is soft, but there’s something else behind it that I can’t quite place.

“Can you come get me? Something,” I stop for a second to try and gather my thoughts and he says my name, it’s soft, a plea. “Something happened, and I - I need you.” I say, my voice cracking.

“Send me your location. I’m on my way. Do you need me to stay on the phone with you?” I hear shuffling on his side of the line as I shakily type the address out for him. 

“Y/n, baby, talk to me. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you? No, never mind. I’m staying.” I hear a door slamming shut and the engine turning over. “Okay, I got your location. I’ll be there in five minutes, okay? Can you hold on for me.”

“Yeah,” I croak, trying so hard to focus just on his voice and nothing else. Not the loud music that’s making its way through the entire place, not my still crawling skin, or the growing bruises on my hips from where he held me so tight when I tried to back away from him for the umpteenth time. 

Connor curses on his side, “Fuck. I’m going to catch every red light, aren’t I? Y/n/n, you okay?”

“Mmm… very dizzy,” I whisper. 

“Focus on me, honey. Listen to my voice. You’re okay. I’m on my way. Okay? I’m two minutes away. I’ll run the next couple lights if I have to get to you faster. I’ve got you. Where are you right now?”

I hold the side of my head and lean against the door, “Um, one of the… upstairs bathrooms.”

“Okay, can you make your way outside? Or do you need me to come inside to get you? I’m a minute away.”

I nod even though he can’t see me. “I can go,” I unlock the door and the music is much louder, and I wish I just told him to come in and get me because the thrumming bass does nothing for my already compromised equilibrium. I stumble a little down the stairs, running into a few people as I pass. 

I’m just making it out the door when he catches me. “There you are. Where are you going?”

I flinch. “Just gotta get home,” I manage to say without my voice wavering too much.

He’s still holding my wrist, paying no attention to the definitely evident pain and fear in my eyes. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

God, is that the only fucking question he knows?

“Hey, hands off!” a voice says from behind me and I think if he wasn’t so close, I would have collapsed. 

“Who are you?” the guy asks, letting go of my wrist.

“That’s none of your concern.”

“Seeing as it’s my party, yeah, it kind of is.”

Connor hums, softly taking me by the hips. “Come on, love. Let’s get you home.” He wraps his arm around my shoulders loosely and I almost break at the contact. “Jesus,” he says, steadying me by both my waist and one arm going to my buckling knees. 

I’m barely able to pull myself back up, even with much help from Connor, but we make it back to his car with little trouble. Mostly because he’s doing most of the work, carrying at least three-fourths of my weight. He doesn’t ask if I want to go back to my dorm, which I’m grateful for because I definitely don’t want to be alone right now. He simply brings me back to his apartment and ushers me gingerly inside, keeping a safe distance, but not letting go of my shaking hand. We don’t talk; I’m not ready to. He doesn’t pry. 

After giving me what seems like gallons and gallons of water to drink - I might definitely be exaggerating. I’m pretty sure it was just a glass, but it felt like a lot. It took me like ten minutes to drink - he leads me back to his room.

“You can sleep in here. I’ll sleep on the couch,” he says after handing me some of his clothes to sleep in - his white shirt that says “sugar” all the way down the front. I’ve seen him wear it a few times and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t fallen in love with it the first time I saw him in it. But looking back on it now, in a slightly less sober view, it might have been the boy inside it. But that’s a bridge we’ll cross at another time. 

“Con?”

“Hmm?” he’s looking at me like I could break at any second, and to be fair, he’s probably not wrong. 

“Stay in here.”

“You sure?” he asks tentatively.

I nod and push at my bottom lip with my tongue. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“Okay,” he says simply. “Is it - is it okay for me to hug you?” he asks tentatively. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 

“No, it’s okay. You can hug me,” I agree.

So he does.

I take in his scent - I’ve only known this boy for four weeks, but I already know his scent better than I know my own; he smells like home. He’s my security; that’s why I can’t stop myself from embracing the hug, holding onto his torso so tight he probably can’t breathe, but he doesn’t complain, doesn’t pull away. “I’m here, y/n. I’m right here. You’re safe. Nothing can happen to you now. I won’t let it. I promise.”

I nod, “Thank you.”

“Shh… don’t thank me.” his lips press into my hairline and he sighs. “I’m gonna go make you some tea. Change, get comfortable, pick whichever side of the bed you want. I’ll be back in a minute.”

---

Picking a side wasn’t really all that necessary when the minute he came to lay in bed with me I curled into his side and he gladly let me stay there while he rubbed my back in soothing circles. 

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?” I answer, focusing my attention on his steady heartbeat.

“Can we talk about what happened?”

I clear my throat and run my fingers over the silver palm tree that adorns his neck. “He put something in my drink… and he was just really handsy, especially when I tried pulling away…” I feel Connor stiffen beneath me. “He uh tried to-”

“Stop,” he pulls me closer and sighs audibly. “Jesus, I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault,” I mumble into his shirt.

He finds my hand and plays with my fingers before lacing our hands and pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles. “I’m still sorry.”

We’re quiet for a while, so long in fact, that I think he’s fallen asleep. “Connor?”

“Hmm?” he hums in response.

“Last week, you said you wanted to kiss me but that the timing wasn’t right.”

I feel his chest rise and fall as he takes in a breath, “I remember.”

I sit up just a little, enough to see his face, but I quickly avert my gaze back to the necklace that I don’t think I’ve ever seen him without. “When would be the right time?”

He shifts and we’re both on our sides, staring closely at one another. “I don’t know.”

“Could now be?”

He doesn’t answer immediately. “I don’t know. I mean, with what just happened and… you’re not completely sober. I don’t want you to regret -”

“I want you to kiss me,” I interrupt him.

“Y/n,” he shakes his head. 

“Please. I know you don’t owe me anything else tonight or for the rest of your life, I just… I need to know what you taste like.” Well that’s embarrassing. “I mean, I don’t mean it like that. I - fuck. What I mean to say is-”

I don’t have time to retract what I’ve said because his fingers are on my jaw and he’s hovering over me, lips only centimeters from mine. “I know what you mean. You sure you want me to?”

“Yes,” I whimper, my hand reaching for the tufts of hair on the back of his neck. “Please.”

It doesn’t take much after that. His lips press mine once, softly, quickly - so quickly, I almost think I’ve imagined it. But then he does it again, longer this time. I can finally get my body to catch up with my brain and I pull him in, on top of me, and crash our lips together. He hums and kisses me a little harder, his tongue rubbing against my bottom lip. I gladly let him roam. It’s euphoric and I never want to stop kissing him. I want to stay here, beneath him, kissing him for as long as he’ll have me. Because this is enough, being connected like this, intimately, but not to the point of no return. Or at least that’s what my brain thinks. My hands, however, have a mind of their own as they go to rid him of his soft t-shirt.

***

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[willddheartt]

Frat boy | C.H.

(Credit to gif owner)

Warnings: Its like 98% smut. 

Summary: Reader is distressed over losing her boyfriend of a year, and finding out she had been cheated on, her friend Calum takes her mind off things, in a very friendly manner. 

Word Count: 2K

Girls weren't allowed to be considered a part of frat houses, at least by whatever people who ran frat houses, but logically speaking the members of the house Phi Delta Theta considered me a bro. I spent more time partying it up with the frat boys than I did at my own dorm, reason being my roommate and I didn't get along too well and the boys over at the frat house had come to be some of my best friends. So when I walked in the house, with tears in my eyes, most of the boys were concerned. Asking if I was alright as I frantically asked if Jeremy was in the house. Jeremy being my newly ex-boyfriend, but none of the guys had heard the news just yet, they had all offered to get him for me until I shut them down, with my following question. Was Calum there. When head nods went around the room I made my way up the steps, trying to pull myself together as I stood outside of his door, waiting for him to open it. 

His door opened so quickly I didn't have time to wipe the tear off my cheek that fell from my eye. Upon seeing my distraught state, Calum pulled me into his chest, holding me tight and backing me up to his bed as he shut the door. 

“Hey, what's wrong?” Calum asked softly, pulling back once we were both sat on his bed “You know how Jeremy and I were together?” I asked Calum nodded, “Yeah, not anymore.” I shook my head. “And turns out the entire time he was cheating like a fucking scum bag.” I sniffled, wiping my face with my sweater sleeves  “I don't even know why I’m crying because he doesn’t deserve these tears,” I sobbed out, hiding my face back in Calums chest “You need to get it out, Y/N, you can’t bottle this type of hurt up,” Calum replied, rubbing my back as he pulled my legs across his lap.  Calum and I sat like that on the edge of his bed until I stopped crying, and he continued to hold me.  “I thought he was a good guy, Cal,” I sighed. 

Calums hand rubbed the side of my thigh, “So did I.” He sighed, “I swear to god the next time I see him-” I cut him off,  “You’re going to leave it because no matter what he's done to me, that does not excuse your actions,” I said, holding a finger to his lips to silence him.  “Hey, I told him when you two started going out, he hurt you and I’d hurt him. You know I always protect you,” Calum spoke softly, pulling me to sit against the headboard with him.  I nodded, “I know what you said, Cal, but I can't let you do that. You know he’d fight back and I don’t want you getting hurt for me.”  “Fine,” Calum sighed, “But if he happens to start something at the next party it's on sight,” He chuckled 

I sat against the wall, with my legs still laying across his lap, Calums fingers traced the outline of the rose tattoo I had on my thigh lightly, the feather touches sending shivers up my back as he began to tell me stories from when he was in high school and embarrassed himself, even though I had heard them close to a thousand times they still seemed to make me smile. 

“You were a real dork, huh?” I asked, tracing his jawline with my index finger  Calum nodded, “The biggest,” He laughed.  “I would so be friends with highschool you,” I smiled “What's wrong with college me?” Calum asked  “Nothing,” I shook my head, “You just seem different,” I shrugged  “How so?” He asked  “You’re more confident almost, I guess. I don't know,” I shook my head, “The psychology major is bad at reading people, the irony.”  Calum shook his head at me, “No you’re not. You know what you're talking about, don't doubt yourself.”  “You think so?” I asked hopeful, “Jeremy always said I couldn't read him and whenever I tried he’d say I was completely off,” I frowned  “Jeremy is an idiot.” Calum said quickly, getting up from the bed, “You don't know how pissed I am for you. I can't believe he treated you like that and also had the audacity to cheat on you.” He was getting close to yelling now.

“Cal, it's fine, really. I just wanna forget about it right now,” I sighed, sitting at the edge of his bed now, trying to grab his hand to pull him down to sit with me.  “No, it's not. I could keep quiet when I heard the way he spoke to you sometimes but hearing that he also cheated, makes me wanna rock his shit,” Calum said through gritted teeth  “Calum.” I said sternly, causing him to look at me, “It's okay, that's over now. I just need you to drop it, okay?”  “Y/N, he was lucky enough to get you then he treated you like shit, I can't just drop it.”  “Fine,” I said, “Just calm down,” I was able to catch his hand as he was pacing around the room, stopping him in front of me.

“I’ll make you a deal, alright?” I started, standing up so I could look at him properly, Calum nodded as he waited for my proposal.  “It's only an idea but, I’ll let you do whatever you don't care what you do to Jeremy, as long as you do me.” My words came out so fast they were almost jumbled together 

“What?” He asked  I nodded, “You heard me,”  “You just broke up with-” I cut him off  “I’m aware of what happened, but I need something to take my mind off it and odds are, Jeremy will be back soon and if I'm not mistaken he's in the room over, you know if you’re up for that.” I shrugged “Doesn’t even have to be romantic, fuck me as a bro,” 

After a moment of thinking it over Calum nodded, pulling me in and wrapping his arm around the small of my back.  “Are you sure about this?” He asked  I nodded, “I trust you.” 

Apparently, that was all he needed for his lips to be attached to mine. Though my offer was urgent, his kisses were not rushed, they were slow and deep causing me to melt into him as I wrapped one hand up around the back of his neck and the other stayed cupping his jaw.  Calum backed me up until my legs hit the bed, he spun us around and sat on the edge of the bed, once again, pulling me into his lap. His hands wandered under my sweater, holding my waist and sliding up my sides smirking when he realized I wasn't wearing a shirt underneath. I let my hands wander over his shoulders, down his chest, pulling his shirt up, pooling it just around his midriff. He pulled away from my lips and moved to my neck, kissing down the column of my throat, leaving one mark on the side of my neck that would definitely be on display whenever I wore any kind of shirt that was not a turtleneck. Finally, he pulled my red hoodie over my head, revealing my black and cherry printed bra. 

“Cute,” Calum commented, once glancing down at my chest  “You see my tits for the first time and all you say is cute?” I laughed  “Hey, I like it,” He chuckled  “Oh, then you’re gonna love to know it was a matching set,” 

Calum groaned and went back to sucking the skin around my neck, leaving two big bruises just above each collar bone, earning a small whimper with each mark he left. My elbow rested on his shoulder as my hand tangled in his brown curls, tugging slightly each time he bit down on my neck.  I didn’t expect things to go this way when I brought up the offer. Calum moved slowly as he worked around my skin, sucking and biting at my neck. I thought it would have been quick and messy but this, in a way, is better. Eventually, I was able to pull him from my neck by pulling his shirt over his head as I got my turn to have my way with his neck, leaving many marks along the column of his throat and earning many groans from him as I ground my hips down onto his. 

Before I knew it, Calum flipped us over and onto his bed more so I was laying under him as he connected our lips again. I was pulling him closer by the waistband of his jeans while also undoing the button in front when he pulled back from the kiss and stopped me.  “You sure?” He asked hands rested on my waist, itching to pop the button on my shorts  I nodded, “Would have stopped a while ago if I wasn't,”  And in one swift movement, my shorts and panties were now on the floor as his lips were back on mine.   Calum settled himself in between my knees, as he held one hand above my head, his free hand trailed down to meet my core. My hand that wasn't held above my head held onto his bicep, waiting for him to make a move as his dark eyes looked down into me making me feel vulnerable under him. 

“If you don’t do something, I’m gonna go crazy,” I breathed out, bringing my hand up to his jaw, and finally his hand connected with my center. Rubbing tight circles on my clit, as I pulled him down to kiss him.  “You’re already wet,” He commented  “You did that,” I moaned  With each moan that slipped past my lips he added more pressure, “Calum, Please,” I whimpered  He nodded, slipping in a finger and setting a steady pace as I brought my hips up to meet the movements of his hand. With another finger added his thumb started to work my clit, silent moans and whimpers left my mouth as he kissed me to muffle the sounds I was making. His grasp on my hand above my head loosened and I was able to bring my hand around his neck, pulling him closer as his arm reached around my back to undo my bra, pulling it off before his mouth came down to capture my breast, sucking and raking his teeth over the nipple. 

“Cal, ‘m close,” I moaned, he continued working on me until I was almost knocked over the edge, then he pulled away completely.  He brought his fingers up to me, I opened my mouth, sucking his fingers clean as I swirled my tongue around them until he pulled them out of my mouth.  Kissing down my stomach, before settling down between my thighs. One kitten lick made me moan loudly as he teased, his lips and tongue worked as loud moans left my throat before my hand came down, tugging at his dark locks making him groan, sending vibrations through my core. 

“Cal, I need-”  He stopped everything and bit my inner thigh, “You want,” He corrected, soothing the bite he just left with a kiss  “Fine,” I sighed, “I want you so bad,”  “That's all you had to say, princess,” He smirked, coming up and grabbing a condom from the box that sat on his bedside table.  Wasting no time I popped the button on his jeans and began shoving both his jeans and boxers down his legs.  “Impatient,” Calum chuckled, kicking his bottoms off, and rolling the condom onto his length. 

“Ready?” He asked, teasing my entrance slightly as he waited for my approval.  “God yes,” I sighed, pulling his shoulders down as he slid into me slowly.  A breathy moan left his lips as he was finally inside of me, waiting a moment before pulling out slowly and setting a slow pace for now. Calum buried his face in my neck, letting out soft groans.  “Faster,” I moaned, kissing his neck. 

As the bed frame knocked against the wall keeping the noise down was out the window. Calum hooked my leg over his shoulder as he pounded into me, hitting at a whole new angle with each trust. The room was filled with vulgar moans and wines of pleasure, the entire house could probably hear at this point.  “‘M close,” I choked out  “Me too,” Calum nodded, bringing his hand down to rub my clit, to work me over faster.  “Cum for me, baby,” He whispered sucking on the skin below my ear, sending me over the edge with a particularly loud moan leaving my throat as his name fell from my lips over and over while he continued to work me through my orgasm. His thrusts getting sloppy and he let go into the condom, collapsing on top of me, I kissed his neck bringing him back to reality. 

He slipped out of me to take off the condom, but as he did so a whimper left me at a loss of contact, making Calum chuckle.  He slipped on his boxers and handed me his shirt before laying down next to me, pulling his duvet over us.  “You think they could hear us?” I asked, still panting from the activities we had just endured  “Yes, we can!” A voice yelled as they passed by the door, making Calum and I laugh.  “Are you gonna fuck Jeremy up as badly as you did me?” I asked, turning around in his arms to face him  “Worse, baby,” Calum mumbled placing a kiss to my forehead 

#5 seconds of summer #5sos #5 seconds of summer smut #5sos smut #5sos imagine #5 seconds of summer imagine #Calum hood #Calum hood imagine #calum hood smu #Luke hemmings #Michael clifford #Ashton irwin #luke hemmings imagine #Luke hemmings smut #Michael clifford imagine #Michael clifford smut #Ashton irwin imagine #Ashton irwin smut #smut #imagine #frat boy Calum #frat boy Calum hood #frat bot Calum hood smut

[george-mackay-macfine]

Fight Club

Requested

Synopsis: George and Y/N used to date, then George got popular, now they hate each other, mostly. 

Word Count: 4,518

“Looking hot this morning, Y/N,” My pen stopped writing on the page of my book as I looked up to see George fucking MacKay. The left side of his faint red lips tugged upwards creating a smirk on his God-like face. 

“You know what MacKay,” I dropped my pen on the table and leant back in my chair, crossing my arms under my chest, “Normally if a boy who looks like you, smiled at me the way you did I’d be turned on,” George lent down on the table, his smirk becoming devilish. 

“Oh yeah?” His eyes darting down to the ample amount of cleavage I had on display. “What happens?” 

“Well, my heart starts to race, and my breathing increases.” I let my chest rise and fall quicker, my hand drawing across the exposed skin, his blue eyes locked on the polished nail that grazed my own skin, “I don’t know where to look, and I bit my lip a lot,” I bit on my bottom lip his eyes locked in on the flesh. “And I start to get hot,” I let the cardigan I was wearing slip off my shoulder. “And I start to feel these flutters, down low…” George’s eyes flicked to meet mine, his eyes had become darker. “And when you smile at me like that…” 

“Yeah?” He asked, breathless. 

“None of that happens.” I snapped, Picking my pen back up. “In fact, the opposite happens.” George hits the table. His head thrown back in laughter. He shook his finger at me, his smirk now a full-blown smile, It was no less gorgeous than his smirk.

“You almost had me that time,” His laughter slowed, “The whole slipping the cardigan of the shoulder,” He dropped down so he was squatting beside me. “And watching your hand move across your chest,” He grunted. “Fucking sexy,” 

“I’m busy MacKay,” I gestured to the table in front o us, my books scattered all over, laptop poised on the table the script I was trying to write open. 

“Don’t look too busy,” I rolled my eyes, moving my head to look at him, eyes turning into slits. “Alright, Jesus,” He held his hands up at chest level as if it’d keep me at bay, “Just stopping by because Chapman is getting numbers for the party before the fight tonight,” His hands dropped, 

“I thought I wasn’t allowed at your fights or parties anymore,” It was George’s time to roll his eyes, “Remember?” George shrugged his shoulders. 

“You were flirting with my opponent, friends don’t do that,” 

“Since when are we friends?” I raised an eyebrow at him, leaning onto the desk, hand cupping my head as I looked up at him. 

“You make a good point,” He stood back up, his hands rest on his hips. “You comin’ or not?” 

“Jane will be there, so I’ll be there,” He nodded his head, 

“See you then,” He tapped the desk with his knuckles before he walked past me. “Don’t forget to wear something sexy,” George’s voice whispered hotly against my ear, his hands running up my arms as he lent down, “Red always looks good on you,” 

And just like that, he was gone. 

Here are the facts about George Andrew J. MacKay, 

He’s the ‘it’ boy of our college campus, you know the guy who all the girls want to fuck. The guy that they all think that they can be the one who changes his ways - it’ll never happen,

He uses woman for his own desires, his own pleasures and the worst part is he’s upfront about this, the girls know that they're being used, but they don’t care. 

He’s a good student, all top marks… surprising, for the college bad boy. 

He’s the guy whose currently undefeated in the fight club on campus, 

He is the guy I lost my virginity too when we were fifteen, then he went to football camp, and when he came back he was the most popular guy in our school, and had no time for his first… unless teasing me counted. 

He’s the biggest pain in my ass and I still have the biggest crush on his idiotic ass.  

After a long day of classes and another long afternoon with my best friend Jane going insane and pulling our dorm apart looking for the perfect outfit to wear to the party at the frat house, I was sick and tired of hearing George’s name… in fact, I was ready to be sick. 

“You’re wearing that?” She raised her eyebrow at me as I walked back into the room, I looked down at my outfit, raising my eyebrow at her. 

“I was going too,” She pursed her lips and shrugged her shoulders, “What is it?”

“It’s nice…” She turned back to the bed, fiddling with her clothes she’d pulled out. 

“But?” She spun so she could look at me again. 

“It’s boring,” 

“Boring…” 

“My mum wouldn’t even wear that, especially if she was looking at getting laid…” 

“Who said I’m looking to get laid,” She gave me a pointed look. Her head drooping to one side. “Fine,” I threw my hands up, “What do you suggest I wear then?” Jane turned back to the bed shuffling through some things, thinking.

“Black jeans, your doc’s and this,” She turned rushing to the bag I’d carelessly dropped at the door three days prior when we’d returned from a shopping trip. “It’ll look so hot.” She wasn’t wrong, the red lace bodysuit would accentuate every curve of my waist while pushing my boobs up. “Trust me,”

“Fine,” I grabbed the bag from her, and grabbed my jeans, walking back to the bathroom. Changing quickly I walked back into the room. Studying myself in the mirror I decided to leave my hair how it naturally was, not feeling the need to apply any heat to it. “How’s it look?” She turned to me, her eyes widening, a big smile pulling at her lips. 

“George is going to cream in his pants,”

“Do you have to make everything so gross?” I huffed picking up my nearby red lipstick. “George and I are nothing, no chemistry… nothing… we fight all the time.” 

“You realize people like you and George are going to fight, right?" Jane laughed. “You’re both too hot-headed.” 

"You are officially fired. You are a terrible conscious.” I glared applying the lipstick. “Now, let’s go get drunk.” 

———————-

And we were drunk. Jane and I showed up to the frat house half an hour later and headed straight to the kitchen where the ‘bar’ was always set up. There we proceeded to skull three shots each in a row. Effectively creating a buzz. 

“There she is,” The all too familiar voice of George MacKay called from behind me, “Looking fucking beautiful, as always,” 

“How drunk are you?” I called picking up a beer, turning back to face him. 

“Not drunk enough to not recognise an angel when she’s standing right in front of me,” His eyes looked over my body, “Told you red looked fucking delicious on you,”

“Actually you said Red always looks good on you, nothing about me looking delicious,”

“Well you do look delicious, good enough to eat,” I rolled my eyes and turned back to Jane. “She left,” George’s voice laughed from behind me. “Dean told me he was hankering for a fuck, so they’re probably busy getting busy,” He wrapped an arm around me, “So you’re stuck with me,” 

“None of your girls? More chance of getting laid,” 

“No, got the only girl I need right here,” 

“I hope you get punched tonight, and whoever punches you wipes that cocky smile off your face,” 

“I never get punched babe,” I rolled my eyes and pulled myself up so I was sitting on the kitchen counter. “Unless I let them,” 

“I find it hard to believe that you only get hit when you let them hit you,” I rolled my eyes as George pulled himself up beside me on the kitchen counter. “In fact, I bet that you get hit tonight,” 

“Oh really?” George’s eyes sparked with excitement. “I’ll take that bet,” 

“What?” 

“What do you want if he gets a hit in?” George steamrolled past me, 

“George I wasn’t being serious,” 

“I was,” He brought the beer bottle to his lips, stopping just before they touched it. “Now, what do you want…” 

“You to stop having sex with random woman,” I blurted out. 

“Knew you wanted me,” He chuckled. “But fine,”

“And you have to publicly apologise for fucking so many of them, and not calling them back…”

“They knew what they were getting into,” It was my turn to give him the pointed look, “Fine, deal.”

“Get ready to lose,” 

“Wait, you haven’t heard what I want when I win,” 

“If,”

“When,” He cleared his throat, “If I win, you have to stay with me for a month worth of Friday and Saturday nights, and you have to come to my fights wearing a cute little cheerleaders outfit.” I weighed it up in my head, 

Pros    

George has to publicly apologise for his man-whore ways, 

George has to go a whole month without sex… something he has nearly every night.

Cons 

 On the off chance he wins I have to wear a cheerleading outfit, and     sleep in his bed, 

“Deal,” I extended my hand out to shake him. “Get ready for a month-long lesson is abstinence.” 

“I don’t think so sweetheart,” 

“So does this mean I get to come to the fight tonight?” I raised an eyebrow, George huffed and pursed his lips. 

“Do you promise to not flirt up a storm with my competition?” 

“Does your competition promise to not find me so desirable?”

“I don’t think anyone could promise that,” He smirked, “Now, do you promise?” 

“Yes, George. I promise,” 

—————-

“LISTEN UP MOTHER FUCKERS,” The Jonathan Carrington, the M.C’s voice boomed through a megaphone. “TONIGHT WE HAVE TWO REIGNING CHAMPIONS,” 

“You think he’ll win?” I asked Dean as we stood side by side near the front of the circle, “I hope he gets punched,”

“GEORGE MACKAY FROM SOUTHWEST.” The crowd went wild, “AND THOMAS WILSON FROM NORTHERN.” The crowd still cheered, it just wasn’t as big as when it was George’s. 

“He’s not going to get punched Y/N,” Dean called back wrapping his arms around Jane. “He never gets punched,”

“Fuck,”

“What did you do?” Jane turned to look at me, her eyes narrowing. 

“MacKay and I made a bet,” 

“On what?” 

“If he gets hit or not,”

“What’s the prize?” 

“He loses he has to stop having sex with random woman, and publicly apologise for fucking so many of them, and not calling them back…”

“And if he wins?” Dean laughed, 

“If he wins, I have to stay with him for a months worth of Friday and Saturday nights, and I have to come to his fights wearing a cheerleaders outfit.”

“Pack your overnight bag Y/N,” Jane laughed shaking her head. 

“ARE YOU ALL FUCKING READY?” Jonathan cried into the microphone. “Here they come,”

“Maybe I can distract him with my boobs?” 

“Just accept defeat, it’s easiest.” Dean chuckled. 

—————-

And defeat I had to accept. George hadn’t let his opponent lay a hand on him, not even when the fight was over, and the shit-eating grin he’d sent me when the fight was done… God the things that smile did to me. 

As I walked from the bathroom down the dark hall of George and Dean’s apartment, hating that I’d walked into this trap. Of course, George wasn’t going to get hit… he never did… for once I should have listened to the rumours. 

“Fuck, Y/N” 

I stopped still my breathing hitched as I peeked through the small gap in George’s ajar door, he was leaning against the wall, his jeans around his ankles his hand working his cock… his above average cock… His above average, angry, thick red cock… That I now had the desire to wrap my mouth around it coursing through my body.

“Just like that,” He groaned again his hand going faster, his back pushing harder against the wall. His eyes shut in pleasure. “So good, baby, fuck so good,” He grunted his hand gripping his cock tighter, his abdominal muscles tightening. “Wanna come all over those tits.” 

Fuck… He looked hot. 

“Gonna come…” He groaned through clenched teeth his hand working faster on himself… Even if I wanted to I wouldn’t have been able to look away, not with how he was working his hand over himself, his fist moving over the thick appendage he’d become so known for.  “Fuck.” He let out a final hiss through clenched teeth as he came into his hand, I could see from my spot outside the room he’d come a lot… His body expelling the thick white liquid. I found myself having the urge to push the door open and go help him clean himself up, but I wouldn’t. I’d walk back up the hall quietly and cough as I neared his bedroom, giving him the time to… fix himself. 

And that was exactly what I did… I walked back to the bathroom, slammed the door quietly, but loudly behind me and coughed as I walked down the hallway, trying to ignore the dampness that seeing George leant up against the wall, hand fisting his cock had created in my panties. 

“So how is this going to work?” I asked as I walked into the bedroom, “Are you sleeping on the lounge?” George looked up from his phone, his cheeks were still flushed from his activities, 

“You take the longest showers,” Thankfully not long enough, He looked up and down my body smiling. “Forgot how good you look in my clothes, But no, we’re sharing the bed.” 

“Firstly, I take the appropriate length of a shower, secondly don’t get used to it I’ll be in my own tomorrow night, and thirdly No way,” I shook my head. “I don’t want to wake up with your hand on my boob,” Yes I did, “Or you hand down my pants,” To be honest, I’d love his hand touching me right now, fingertip brushing my clit, pushing inside of me as I moan into the pillow… or his mouth…   

“I promise I’ll be on my best behaviour,” He held his hands up in defence before doing a cross over his chest. “No touching,” He smirked. “Until you ask.” He laid down on the bed, throwing the cover over for me to slid in beside him. When I laid beside him he pulled the cover over my body, leaning across to turn off the light. We laid in the darkness in silence, my mind going over how just minutes before George was wanking, and moaning my name… and fuck it had to be the hottest thing I’d ever seen. 

“Hey George,” I whispered unable to think of anything but his cock. 

“Yeah?” 

“I hate you,” 

“You’re going to hate me, even more, tomorrow when you have to wear the outfit to my fight,” I sat up and looked at him. Even with the minimal lighting, I could see the bright smirk on his face, “Something wrong?” 

“Since when do you double down on fights?”

“When I realised it would mean I get to see you in that itty bitty outfit that much sooner,” 

“I hate you,” I cried laying back against the plush pillows. 

“Sure you do,” He cackled. “Now, I’m going to sleep, please don’t feel me up in my sleep… I know you must be dying to see if the rumours are true, which they are by the way it’s grown since you last saw it, but my cock is on lockdown.”

 Oh, George, I was all too aware of just how much it’d grown. I’d never admit to him I want to do more than touch his cock… maybe put my lips around it… maybe a little cockwarming… maybe just touch it for a while… feel the heaviness in my hand. 

“You wish MacKay,” I groaned falling back into the pillows. 

—————-

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I glared at the small red cheerleading outfit George held out towards me, “I’m not wearing this.” I glared. 

“Yes you are,” He smirked

“No, I’m not, I won’t even be able to bend over without anyone seeing everything,” 

“Just let me know when you plan to bend,” George smirked walking to his bedroom door, “Hurry we leave in five.�� 

“Fucking christ,” I screamed as George shut the door. I pulled my clothes off and pulled the outfit on, surprisingly it fit me really well. The skirt brushed mid-thigh, more on the shorter side than the longer side, and the shirt showed off my boobs spectacularly…. Who knows maybe Mackay was doing me a favour and I could get laid in this. 

“Fuck yes,” George groaned as he reopened his bedroom door, “Knew you’d look hot in that,” He spun his finger in the air. “Twirl for me,” I rolled my eyes and did as he said his eyes running over my body. “Brings back memories,” He walked towards me, his hand landing on my hip as he played with the fabric of my skirt. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” He nodded his head, “To the time I fucked my first cheerleader at football camp,” Two can play at this game. 

“Well, Mackay as much as I hate this, you may have done me a favour,”

“Oh?” I nodded my head, biting my lip. 

“Yeah, this might help me find someone to fuck my brains out tonight, Maybe let me go for a bit of a ride.” I smiled innocently turning to go pull my hair into two braids. George had other ideas, he pulled me back against him. His strong hand laying across the exposed skin of my stomach. 

“The only person you’ll be riding tonight will be me.” His breath touched my neck, spreading goosebumps over the skin. “The only person who’ll be fucking your brains out tonight, will be me.” I turned to him, 

“We’ll see about that, I very much doubt you’ll be right,” His fingers pulled down my bottom lip, the pad of his thumb dipping into my mouth, I bit on it gently. “Maybe when I’m in the shower tonight you can fuck your hand again,”

“How did you…”

“You need to learn to shut the door properly G,” I smirked using the nickname I used to call him by. “Nice cock by the way,” I reached down and cupped it, patting it as I pulled away. “Let’s hope the boy who fucks me tonight has one the same.” I pulled away and walked to the door. 

“It’s going to be me, Y/N,” I turned back to him, smirking. 

“Don’t bet on it.” 

—————-

George had finished fighting again, another ‘renowned’ competitor, and I was here doing his bidding as his own personal cheerleader, I cheered when he punched the guy out and I screamed when he was announced the winner. 

“Like your outfit,” I turned as a guy grabbed onto my waist, pulling me back into his chest. “Look’s sexy,” I could smell the cigarettes and beer, and it was a real turn off. 

“Oh yeah,” I needed to find a way out of this situation. 

“Really fucking sexy,” 

“Don’t touch her.” I heard George’s bored tone come from my left, “She’s mine,” 

“Oh really?” The chuckled, “Why don’t we let her decide,” The guy released my waist, and allowed me to step away. 

“Ew,” I muttered under my breath as I looked at him. He was a stoner, long greasy hair that no man or woman would want to touch with a ten-foot pole. 

“Come home with me baby,” He muttered, his tongue wetting his lips. 

“Think I’ll stay with him, and his beyond average sized cock,” I smirked over at George who smiled back at me, “I don’t think you could even give a woman an orgasm without using toys,” 

“Why don’t you let me take you home and we can find out,”

“She’s mine,” George spoke again, “Look at her like that again, and I’m going to punch your eyes out,” 

“Look at her like what? I’m just looking at her,” 

“Like you want to bend her over and fuck her right here,” George grit out stepping towards the guy, I stepped in front of him, hands on his chest. 

“Can’t stop my mind,” His eyes moved down to my lips. “Those beautiful things would look perfect around my cock.”

“I’m going to kill you,” George stormed towards him, I managed to push him away, pushing him against the grimy wall. 

“George,” 

“I’m going back to punch his lights out.” George declared, nodding his head. “Going to punch him fucking out.” He pointed at the guy who was chuckling behind us. A crowd had begun to gather. 

“I’d love to see it, but it won’t help any.” 

“I’m going to kill him,” 

“George let it go,” 

“I can’t.”

“Why not,” I held onto his shoulders, “It’s just me.” His eyes met mine, his body stopped struggling. 

“Exactly,” He hissed. “He said it about you,” 

“He’s jealous,” I whispered, leaning up to his lips. “He’s jealous because he thinks that these lips wrap around you,” My lips brushed his with each word I spoke. 

“No one else,” He repeated. 

“No one else,” I affirmed.

—————-

“It’s kind of creepy when you’re alone,” I muttered as George and I walked into the apartment. Dean and Jane had gone to our dorm room for a private night alone, which meant the intended to spend the whole night fucking. 

“Yeah.” We both stood in the kitchen, looking over the dark apartment. “Your right it is creepy.” George laughed breaking the silence. “You can almost see the ghosts and creeps just lurking.” 

“Why would you say that?” I cried. “Now I’m not going to be able to sleep, George,” 

“Y/N, there’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“How do you know? Have you ever seen one?”

“No, and that’s how I know they're not real.” He smirked. I looked around the kitchen and groaned. “I forgot how much you hated ‘scary’ things,” 

“Remember when we watched house of wax?” 

“Yeah, you couldn’t sleep for a month,” He pursed his lips. “Are you sure it just wasn’t the acting that caused that?”

“No, I’m pretty sure it was because I was afraid someone would grab me in the middle of the night and turn me into a human wax figure,” I said as I sat myself up on the bench letting my legs dangle off the side. 

“No one is going to get you Y/N. Not while I’m around.” George laughed walking towards me. “I promise.” He whispered as he reached me. His hands held onto my hips, pulling me forward so he stood between my legs, the too-short cheerleading skirt bunched up around my thighs. 

“Promise.”

“I promise.” He whispered again. His head ducking down so he could kiss my cheek. I relaxed into him as he gently left a trail of kisses against my jawline, making his way to my ear. “I’m sorry I said anything, are you okay?” He had one arm around me, holding me close. The other was wound in my hair, gripping it gently but harsh enough I was feeling waves of pleasure from my scalp. 

“Yeah,” I nodded our noses brushing, his lips brushed mine ever so softly. Then harder, His lips attach to mine and I moan into his mouth giving his tongue the opening it needed and he takes full advantage, his tongue exploring my mouth. He brings his hand up to grasp my chin and holds me in place. “G,” I whimper as his lips move from mine down to my neck, as I pull the cotton shirt he had on up, “Off.” I pleaded pushing him away. His shirt was gone a second later. 

“Tell me it’s me you picture,” George groaned his hands gripping my skin, 

“What?”

“When someone’s between these fucking legs, tell me it’s you,” 

“Always you,” I nod, “Always picture you.” 

“I’m gonna fuck you,” George says matter-of-factly, pulling me off the bench. “I’m going to fuck you, and you’re going to see why none of those guys can do it like I can,” He spun me around and pushed me against the island, “And I’m going to remember why none of those girls were as good as you,” I heard the zip of his pants undoing, the belt clacking as it hit the tiles on the floor. 

“George,” 

“Did you enjoy it?” His hands went to the skirt, pulling it down slowly, “Them other guys fucking you while you pretended it was me?” 

“We weren’t together,” I cried out as George pushed inside of me, fuck his cock felt fantastic. 

“You think I don’t know we’re not together?” He gives a sharp thrust, causing me to suck in a breath. I look over my shoulder and I swear I nearly came from the sight alone, he was holding onto my shoulder, and my hip using me. “I think about it every fucking day.” His teeth gripped his bottom lip as he bottomed out inside me. 

“George,” 

“And it drives me insane. Do you think I like seeing you with other guys?” I push against George, managing to break free enough to push him to the floor, I sit on him, his cock back inside me, as I hold his hands up above his head while my hips circle on his beyond above average cock. 

“You think I like to see you with other girls?” I circled my hips faster, chasing my own release. 

“Easy solution then,” George slipped his hands-free, grabbing my hips and pounding up into me. “I won’t fuck anyone else if you don’t fuck anyone else?” 

“George,” I moaned as he hit my g-spot. “Need to come,”

“Say yes, and I’ll make you come,” 

“George,” His fingers dropped to my clit, pressing against it. My body shivering against his, “Touch me,” 

“Say yes,” 

“Yes,” I whispered as his hand began to rub, my body took over rocking back and forth on his cock, using him as I chased my own high. 

“So fucking perfect, always so fucking perfect,” He groaned his left hand gripping my hip. “Gonna come baby?” I nodded not trusting my voice to answer. “Wanna feel it again, feel you clenched around me,”

“I’m gonna,” I cried a tear falling from my eye as my head nodded uncontrollably as my body released. I cried out as George continued to fuck into me, “Need you in me,” I whimpered dropping down to his ear. “Need it.” 

“Gonna give it to you,” His grip tightened as he came, I felt it. Him inside me coating my walls with his come. “Fuck,” He pushed the hair off my face as we lay connected on his kitchen floor. “Give me five minutes and we’re fucking again,” 

#george mackay #george mackay x reader #GeorgeMackay #George MacKay fanfic #George MacKay Imagine #GeorgeMacKayImagine #George MacKay Smut

[kpophoneybunny]

Hold Me - NCT Jungwoo x Fem!OC (College AU) One-Shot

Genre: Suspense/Angst/Romance

Rating: I’d say R (violence, description of stalking and assault, strong language, some nudity, suggestive content)

Disclaimer: This is written in the first person but I tried to keep her name and description as vague as possible. The stalker is not any k-idol and is based on someone who stalked me in middle school.

WARNING: Description of violence, death threats, attempted kidnapping, physical assault (she is naked and in a towel but it is not sexual assault although she is forcefully kissed at one point), strong language, nudity, mild (consensual) sexual content. (There is no smut in this one-shot)

A/N: This is based on a nightmare/dream, some real-life experiences, and a few of my deepest fears.

Tag List: @twancingyunhoe @frickyea-guacamole19 (comment to be added or removed from the one-shot tag list).

Word Count: 1518

For months now, I was receiving anonymous notes claiming that the writer was in love with me and that I needed to accept them. It had recently escalated to at least three notes every day. I had received printed pictures of me through the window of my dorm room and notes saying that if I continued to ignore this person, I’d regret it.

I kept it a secret from everyone but my roommate - after all, she lived in the same room as me and was probably in danger too - and a friend who lived off-campus who let me shower over there every night. I didn’t even tell Jungwoo, my best friend since childhood who lived right across the hall from me. He had no idea that anything was even remotely wrong. I didn’t want him to worry about me. Besides, I’d never even seen the stalker’s face.

But, in all honesty, I was terrified. I was even scared to shower at the dorms, fearing that he’d come to watch me or worse. But I didn’t have the time to wait for my roommate before the party so I swallowed the dread and stepped into the communal women’s bathrooms, walking to the showers in the back and setting my things on the bench, slipping behind the curtain and stripping. I washed myself and my hair, about to reach out for my towel when the curtain opened.

There stood a man, looking me over as if he had every right in the world to do so. “I finally have you to myself, princess.”

I screamed, hoping someone would hear me and come help me. I managed to reach past him, grabbing my towel and wrapping it around myself to hide my body. “No! Leave me alone!” I let out another scream as he came closer, clamping his hand over my mouth. His fingers dug into my skin so harshly that I was sure it would bruise.

“Did you honestly think you could just ignore me? Did you really think I wouldn’t make you love me?” He growled, eyes filled with a rage I had never seen before. I whimpered, clutching my towel tightly to keep myself covered. “You’re going to get dressed and come with me, quietly. If you try to signal to anyone that something is wrong, I will kill you. Do you understand?” I nodded, fighting back tears. Would I be one of those girls who went missing and was found months later in a trashbag buried in the woods?

The bathroom door opened. “Hello?” It was Jungwoo. “I heard a scream. Is everything okay?” He was coming closer. I locked eyes with the man who was definitely my stalker and let out a muffled scream, knowing Jungwoo would hear me.

The stranger growled and shoved my head back against the tile wall so harshly that I let out a loud cry, my vision blurring as I struggled to reorient myself. “I said to stay fucking quiet.”

“Get off of her!” Jungwoo grabbed the guy by the arm and pulled him off of me, standing between us protectively. “Get the hell out of here or I’ll call campus security.”

“That’s my girlfriend. Get out of my way.” The guy pushed Jungwoo aside and grabbed me by the arm. I almost dropped my towel but I kept a fierce grip on it so no one would see me naked. That was the last thing I needed right now.

“I’m not!” I tried to wrench my arm free but my stalker grabbed me by the neck and kissed me roughly, obviously trying to deter Jungwoo from interfering any further.

“We’re just having a fight. Don’t mind her.” He was unhinged, deranged. I never knew it would escalate to anything like this. I couldn’t hold back the tears when they came and I sobbed pathetically, hoping Jungwoo would succeed in running the other man off. Physically, they seemed evenly matched. But Jungwoo looked about ready to knock him down and start wailing on him.

“If she had a boyfriend, I’d know about it.” Jungwoo grabbed him by the collar and yanked him away from me. “Get the fuck out.” He shoved him towards the door. “OUT!” Jungwoo pushed the man out into the hall. “If I ever see you again, I’ll call the police and have you arrested!”

I sank onto the floor of the shower, holding my towel tighter as my chest heaved. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think. My head felt heavy and my thoughts were static. It was as if my brain had been ripped out of my skull and replaced with stones.

“Are you alright? He didn’t… hurt you. Did he?”

“No. And… no.” I wiped at my tears, trying to cover myself even more. I didn’t want to flash Jungwoo. Especially not after what I had just experienced.

“Here.” He handed me my bag of clothes. “I’ll go stand by the door to give you privacy and keep other people out.” Jungwoo bit his lip and walked away. I checked to make sure he wasn’t looking in the direction of the showers, drying off and putting on the jeans and t-shirt I had brought to change into. I stepped out, my towel folded over my arm, and walked over to him silently. He looked my face over carefully and gave a slight frown. “Who was that guy? He didn’t look familiar.”

“He’s… been sending me love notes every day, multiple times a day. They’ve been getting more threatening and he’s taken pictures of me through my windows and-“ I fell apart again, feeling ridiculous for hiding something so serious and crying like a baby in front of him. “I think he wanted to kidnap me or-or-”

“Hey…” he hesitated. “Can I hold you?” I nodded and he took me into his arms, smoothing a hand over my wet hair. “You’re safe now, okay? I’ll tell the RAs and all the guys in the building and we’ll keep an eye out for you.”

“No. You don’t have to do that. That’s too much…”

“No, it’s not. It’s the least I can do for you if this guy is really such a threat, you know?” He kissed my forehead gently. “Do you still wanna go to that party?”

“No. I think I’ll just stay in tonight.” I stepped out into the hall and he followed behind me.

“Can I stay with you? Just to make sure you’re okay? We can watch a movie or something.” He took my hand in his to make me look at him. His brows were knitted together but his eyes were soft. His other hand was rubbing the back of his neck as he looked me over. “I just need to know you’re safe.”

“Yeah. That’d be really nice, actually.” I took him into my dorm room and sat on my bed, hugging my knees to my chest. He sat next to me and turned on the TV, not making a move to touch me. He was probably afraid to set me off. But I needed to be held and reassured so I leaned into his shoulder, sniffling as he browsed the channels. He wrapped his arm around me to tug me closer. “Thank you.”

“For what?” He tilted his head curiously.

“For saving my life.” We locked eyes and he gave my forehead another gentle kiss.

“I didn’t want to lose you. I was so afraid and I knew that if I didn’t do anything…” He trailed off. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Jungwoo.”

“No. I love you. I’m in love with you.”

“Oh.” My breath caught and I searched his face for any sign of joking around or lying. But he was entirely serious.

“I didn’t really accept it until I saw that guy grabbing you like that and manhandling you and I-I lost it. I was so mad. All I could think of was punching his lights out and keeping you safe.” We weren’t paying attention to the television anymore, staring at each other. I wasn’t even sure what we had on the screen. I tugged him into a gentle kiss.

“I love you too.” Our lips parted as I mumbled out my response but they quickly reunited once he processed what I had said. He cupped my cheek and I winced, pulling away slightly.

“Oh my god, you’re bruising. He hurt you…” Jungwoo’s fingers gently brushed over my face. “Your neck too.” His voice wavered.

“Jungwoo,” I let my lips graze his ever so slightly, “kiss it better?” His eyes widened and he glanced at my neck nervously. “Everywhere he touched me… kiss me. Please?”

“Is this how you really want that to happen?” He asked, tilting his head.

“Yes. Distract me, kiss me, touch me. Anything.” I begged, bringing my lips fully against his.

“Alright. Stop me at any time.” He whispered, laying me on my back as he began to kiss my lips, my cheek, my neck. I completely forgot about my stalker that night, every inch of me focused on every inch of Jungwoo.

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