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skzdarlings · 3 months

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birthday girl ; skz ; seungmin x reader

requested by anonymous: “You keep your hands where they are or I’ll tie them up” with Seungmin + requested by anonymous: ❛ i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making. ❜ is SO seungmin I can’t 😭 + requested by @sealovesbts : ❛ is that how you usually get out of these situations? by fucking your way out of them? ❜ x Seungmin djjdjjdjd 🫣

pairing: kim seungmin/reader content info: friends to lovers. boy next door!seungmin, stripper!seungmin. reader is kinda vanilla but gets a couple kinks unlocked: stripping, some power play, seungmin giving orders and her following it, having sex in privacy but a public venue overall. word count: 4100 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy!

You open the door and jump, startled to find Seungmin already standing there with his hand raised to knock. He also looks surprised but he doesn’t shriek like you do. You were already jittery before the jump-scare.

“Seungmin! Sorry!” You put a hand over your heart. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I can see that.” He speaks in his usual dry tone but smiles a lopsided smile.

Kim Seungmin lives in your neighbourhood. You have been amicable a long time so you like to consider him a friend as well. He is an admittedly private person and his personality can be brash, but you find charm in his quirky cheekiness. He is reliable whenever you need a hand.

He is dressed in a hoodie and jeans which is not unusual; he is not very flashy. His bangs sweep his forehead and he smiles a wide, boxy smile as he hands you a gift bag.

“Happy birthday, neighbour,” he says.

“Oh my goodness,” you say, flustered. “Seungmin! You didn’t have to!”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m the greatest,” he quips. While you open the present, he asks, “I guess you’re going out? You’re all dressed up.”

“Oh, um, yes.” You feel shy as he looks at you.

“You look good,” he says.

It makes you even more flustered. You are dressed a little sleeker and sexier than usual. Your sister has arranged your birthday party but you do not know where, only that she said to dress for fun. You are not great with surprises and your sister is a little wild, hence your nerves, but you have decided to leave your comfort zone for one night.

You were not expecting to run into your neighbour, friend, and crush.

Because, yes, you like Seungmin. A lot. Seungmin is very modest, low-key, and hard-working. You know he is at law school and works a few jobs to pay for it. You are not sure where, but he is intelligent and you can imagine him doing anything. His snark is amusing but his dependability and steadfastness is a sexy combination. Your sister has never met him but has often teased you for your so-called boring infatuation, but you disregard the thought. You like Seungmin, shaggy bangs and law school textbooks and all.

A flirtation has been subtly brewing over the last few months. You think the unexpected birthday gift is a step in that direction. Especially when you unwrap a recipe book you off-handedly mentioned a few weeks ago, touched he remembered it at all.

“Oh, thank you, Seungmin,” you say, gushing and sweet. You go to hug him but falter nervously and end up giggling.

He brushes some hair out of his eyes. They seem to sparkle with mirth, or maybe you are just ridiculously head-over-heels.

“You’re kinda goofy, you know that?” he says, but smiles. “I like it.”

“Oh gosh,” you say.

It makes him laugh. Then he says, “I’ll let you get to your party.”

“Oh, it’s just my sister and some girl friends,” you say. “I don’t even know where we’re going. Probably just some food and stuff. You know me. I’m very simple.”

“I do,” he says. “I’d like to know you better, though. Maybe you can make me one of those recipes some time. I like the one on page fifteen.”

You burst out laughing at his audacity, making him laugh too. His teasing successively obliterates your nerves.

“I will,” you say, smiling so big. “Page fifteen. Noted.”

“It’s a date,” he says. “I’ll let you go now. Enjoy your birthday dinner.”

“You too,” you say, then realize that response made no sense so you stutter through a retraction. You stop when he leans in and kisses your cheek, a quick peck that makes your eyes go wide.

“Goofball,” he says and bops your nose while smiling. “See you around, neighbour.”

“Bye, neighbour,” you say, giggling helplessly.

He smiles as he walks away, hands in his pockets, and you are still hugging your book and smiling.

The conversation with Seungmin is your last wholesome birthday moment. You meet your sister and friends only to get whisked off to a placeof complete and utter depravity.

Otherwise known as a club full of male strippers.

You are sitting at a little table, astounded at the room around you. You hold no judgements whatsoever, but between the flashing lights and loud music and, um, prominent bare chests and even more prominent bulges, you are sufficiently overawed.

You cannot help but gawk, mouth open as you look around at everything. It makes your sister and friends laugh. It is not mean but they are undoubtedly amused. Your shy character is the opposite of… this.

“You guys are crazy,” you say, only making them erupt into more giggles.

“You like logic and traditions so consider it a rite of passage, baby sister,” your sister says, slinging her arm around your shoulder and squeezing. “Or, hm, an act of feminism! It’s about equality. We need to objectify and ogle the sexy men on behalf of womankind.”

“How noble of us,” you say dryly, setting off another round of giggles. You shake your head, smiling with amusement too. You are a little embarrassed but it is quite funny, and there is a part of you enjoying something so opposite of your usual quiet scenes.

Amusing is the best word for it, though. None of the men are remotely your type and the relentless hip-thrusting is a bit much. You find yourself laughing into your drink and swaying to music as a few choreographed routines are performed. Some of the more elaborate dances are entertaining.

“The birthday girl likes a pretty boy,” your sister says, conspiring with your friends to find the perfect man to entertain you.

“No, I don’t,” you say. You roll your eyes and playfully shove her shoulder.

“Well,” she says, “there are no boring lawyers on that stage, so a pretty face will have to suffice.”

They proceed to point out a few of the prettier dancers while you shake your head. You turn to watch the stage where a different set of men are in the middle of a routine. There is a very rowdy bachelorette party in front of your table, occasionally blocking the view of one side of the stage. You are sipping you drink when a few girls move, opening the view.

You promptly spit your drink everywhere. Your friends squeal while you choke and there is enough chaos at your table for one of the dancers to look directly at you.

Not just any dancer.

Kim Seungmin.

You have seen that face twice a day every day for months and you still barely recognize him. It is no wonder that even a slightly obstructed view warped him entirely.

Your modest, low-key friend is dazzling under the stage lights, face lightly made-up and his usual shaggy hair pushed back off his face. Is it possible for a glimpse of forehead to so drastically change the composition of a familiar face? He looks like a new man, his features striking on his bright, open face, all framed by neatly styled dark hair. The familiar sparkle in his dark eyes is accentuated by the gleam of something shining around his neck. Necklace? Choker? Collar?

He is in a white dress shirt and blue jeans, ripped at the knee, but everything about him seems illuminated. He is the bold, blazoned fantasy version of the boy next door. Very literally in your case, which is maybe why you think it, watching him cross the stage with more verve and confidence than you knew he possessed. Your Seungmin walks in a casual shuffle, hands in his pockets. He does not stride.

He certainly does not… gyrate. Which is what he is doing when he catches your eye. There is a moment of shared recognition and subsequent surprise, wide-eyed as you hold gazes across a noisy room.

Seungmin, a seemingly consummate professional, blinks the surprise off his face and goes back to his routine.

You are not so practiced. Your surprise stays plastered there, your mouth open and eyes wide as you stare at him. The dance that seemed so exaggerated and ridiculous on the other performers is something else on Seungmin. Maybe it is his character, the boy next door with his ripped jeans and smirking grin. Or maybe it is because he is your boy next door.

He is not ridiculous. Quite the opposite. He makes it look natural, fluid and unhurried with the swivel of his hips and teasing grin. He seems to somehow make eye contact with everyone in the room.

You remind yourself that is his job when his eyes wander back to you. It does not slow the race of your heart.

He sits on a chair and opens his shirt. Some of the other dancers are more than half-naked, but he has a captive audience with the simplest action. Keeping each step to the beat of the music, he reclines and undoes his belt, which makes your lips part. Then he lets his shirt drop down his arms and reveals his shoulders, which makes you gasp. Then he cups a hand between his legs, curving his palm over the not-insubstantial bulge in his jeans. Heat fills the core of you.

He looks right at you with a tilt of his head and a lazy smile, the subtle sort of smirk that does not need to exaggerate. He knows he has you.

“Oh my god,” your friend says. “Not birthday girl eye-fucking a stripper.”

“What!” You rip your attention away all at once, flushed hot from head to toe. “I am not!”

“Well, he was eye-fucking you.”

You take a gigantic gulp of water, though it does not to quell the heat inside. Until today, the most you dared to fantasize about Seungmin was a prolonged kiss on the porch. Seungmin is polite. He does not eye-fuck.

Except you glance over the rim of your cup. He is still looking at you. It is not the way he looks at everyone else, who he skims with a cursory glance and flirtatious wink. It is a lingering, penetrating stare, like he is calling you to him with his eyes alone.

Oh. Gosh. He is eye-fucking you.

“I think,” your sister says, “we found a pretty boy for the birthday girl.”

And that is how you find yourself sitting in a small private room, barely bigger than a coat closet and washed in a dark purple light. You are perched on a plush little seat, holding your handbag so tightly your knuckles start to hurt. You let go and clear your throat, embarrassed even though you are alone. You place the bag on the floor and smooth your hands down the skirt of your dress.

You squeak like a frightened little mouse, jumping when Kim Seungmin startles you for the third time tonight. Once on your doorstep. Once on stage. And now in this little room, silhouetted by the hall lights until he closes the divider. He is still in his ripped jeans and dress shirt, neatly buttoned and composed again.

He runs a hand through his hair which makes your heart skip beats. You feel a little preposterous, scandalized by a forehead, but it makes his gaze so direct. You melt under the intensity of his stare.

“I hear it’s your birthday,” he says.

You imagine yourself as a stranger to him, the same line recited with the same confidence. For some reason, it is just as tantalizing. You like abrasive, quirky law student Kim Seungmin in his hoodie and jeans. But you find yourself irrevocably spellbound by this other version of him, who is so seductive it has women drawing money out of their purses.

“Yes,” is what you say, instead of all that.

He tilts his head, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. He is always clever but his open face makes his scrutiny more apparent. You swallow when he approaches, when he sinks down on one knee while holding your gaze in thrall.

“Breathe,” he says. “That’s not a request.” He rests his hands on the seat, framing your body between them. He does not touch you. He does not need to. Your breath spills free in a rush and he smirks. “Good. All right. So… neighbour… Should we talk?”

You think a thousand thoughts. Yes, a conversation. No, your friends paid for this room. They think you will get a lap dance or something, then return quickly. You want to ask when he is free for dinner. You want to ask how long he has worked here. You want to know him. You really, really want to kiss him.

You say instead, “I’ve never done this sort of thing before.”

He looks at you for another moment, still studious. You swallow again. Then he smiles that dastardly grin, wide and a little mean.

“And you want to?” he asks. “Do this sort of thing?”

“Only if it’s you,” you say, then avert your gaze out of embarrassment. Maybe that was too much cringe-worthy honesty.

He touches your chin, drawing your gaze back to him. You blink at him, helpless but to study his face in turn. He was always decently good-looking but he is driving you to complete distraction. You find yourself staring at his lips well before he starts speaking.

“I think you have more depth than either of us know, don’t you?” he asks.

“Maybe,” you say, laughing a little. You look at him with wide, earnest eyes. “Don’t we all?”

He touches his tongue to his upper lip, looking thoughtful but undoubtedly smiling. Then he smacks his lips and nods, his hair bouncing.

“Right,” he says. “In that case, birthday girl…”

He stands and your eyes follow. He holds your gaze until he starts unbuttoning his shirt, then your eyes drop to his hands, the deft flick of his fingers as they crawl down his chest.

A professional, you think. It gets you undeniably hot. You meet his eyes again when he tugs his shirt off and drops it behind him. He is more slender than chiseled, especially compared to some of the other dancers, but there is a firmness to his body, a control he has mastered.

He grabs a bar above your head that you did not even notice, using it to lift and lower himself over you. He lands in a smooth straddle with his knees cradling you under him.

You sit back, breathing harder already. Then he takes your hands and lifts them over your head, making your fingers twitch with anticipation. You are still fully clothed but your dress is sleeveless and low-cut and this feels like a vulnerable position, arms raised with a half-naked Kim Seungmin straddling your body.

He curls your fingers around the bar then drags his knuckle down the bare skin of your arms, making you shiver despite the packed heat of this little room.

“You keep your hands where they are,” he says, “or I’ll tie them up.”

You nod a little frantically and it makes him laugh. Then he is leaning back just enough to rock his body over yours, bringing your attention to every flawless plane of his body as he moves on you. He touches you sparingly, making you watch, making you wonder. Looking and fantasizing about what his hips can really do, what strength is hidden in the body he has mastered. He follows the low music, ever deep thrum of a bass, every heart-pounding beat.

He brings his face close to yours, so close your lips almost touch. It steals your breath like a real kiss would.

“I’m going to touch you,” he says. “Be good for me, birthday girl. Maybe there’s a present in it for you. Only if I like you.”

You cannot find any witty quips to return. He is definitely the experienced one, as effortless with his words as with everything else. You can only gawk at him as he slides smoothly off. Then his hands are on your legs, making them quiver, your body startled with the direct touch despite the warning.

Your skirt gathers just a bit, his hands curling under your knees. Then he is spreading your legs, not enough to see anything but enough you feel the empty space between them. Oh yes, emptier than you have ever felt. You are surprised by the way you clench, your body aching for more. He only teases, makes you feel that emptiness and picture every what if. He helps you with your fantasy, pushing your legs back like he would if he was fucking you deep, rolling his hips so close to yours in mimicry.

“Oh,” is the only sound you make. Your breathing is very loud. It says a lot on its own.

He is breathing a little harder too. He is still between your legs when he starts unbuttoning his jeans. He shuffles them down his hips but not all the way off. You can see he is wearing nothing underneath, the denim itself a suddenly tantalizing piece, slung low on his hips with the subtle sloping v of his body drawing your gaze to his middle.

“I don’t usually go further than this, you know,” he says. He slowly pushes the next button loose and you can feel the rush of heat from your belly swoop lower. His bulge looks obscene at this vantage, pushing at what little remains of the denim around it. “But I think I like you, birthday girl.” He opens another button. “I think I can make an exception.” He pushes the last button then grasps his jeans at the hips, grinning as he says, “Our secret.”

Secret, illicit, that’s what this feels like, looking at the gorgeous man you have been pining after, watching as he pushes his jeans down his hips and thighs. You are tucked in a small room not far away from a rowdy crowd, Kim Seungmin dropping the last of his clothes then continuing his slow and sensual movements.

You feel dizzy, your arms shaking. You close your mouth when you literally salivate, because his dick is right there, hard and curving up in front of you as he moves with skilled ease. You giggle a little nervously when he notices and swipes a thumb across your lips. Then he reaches up, curling his hands over yours on the bar as he leans in close to your face.

“You wanna touch me?” he asks, palms over your knuckles. You nod frantically and he grins that mean smile, tilting his head as he looks down at you. “What will you give me for it?”

“Anything,” you say. “You can do anything to me. You can have all of me.”

It occurs only seconds later he might mean money, but he just laughs, that familiar ha-ha-ha you have heard a dozen times before.

“Is that how you usually get out of these situations?” he teases. “By fucking your way out of them?”

“You’re so mean,” you say with a helpless pout.

“Yeah,” he says, brushing his nose with yours. “I am. I could be worse, but it’s your birthday.” He takes your hands and lowers them, guiding them to his shoulders.

You touch him carefully, as if he is fragile, or like he could disappear beneath your fingertips. This moment hardly seems real, ethereal and bright, all neon and purple haze. This is not like you and that is thrilling. This is all new, but he is also familiar. You are enjoying this, him, you together.

You touch him slowly, with intention, just the gentlest caress across his bare shoulders. It wipes his grin, makes his breathing get all slow like he is savouring it too. He looks at you with more intensity.

“You said I can anything?” he asks.

A nod is all it takes, then he is sinking to his knees. He pushes back a few loose strands of his hair, then his hands are under your knees and he is pulling you to the edge of your seat. You make a little noise of surprise, clutching his shoulders until he manoeuvres you. Then it is your legs on his shoulders and he is running his tongue along your inner thigh.

“Seungmin,” you say, breathlessly.

“Shh, shh,” he says. “Our secret, remember?”

Then he is tugging your now wet panties to the side, his mouth on you in a ravenous motion. You cover your mouth to try and stifle most of your moaning, but you cannot help the few sounds that escape, especially as he takes you closer and closer to a climax. He surfaces, still using his hand to get you close, his lips wet and eyes searching. He smirks, sliding two fingers into you while rolling his thumb across that distended bundle of nerves.

“That’s not quiet, birthday girl,” he says. “Don’t make me gag you.”

“I’m quiet,” is your rasping reply.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” he asks, fucking his fingers roughly through all the wet desire between your thighs, making you shake. “I can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making,” he says. “It almost sounds like you’re about to come for me. That’s pretty dirty. What would everyone out there say?”

Shocked. They would be shocked if they even believed it. You would not have believed it of yourself a few hours ago. But now you are coming all over his face and hand and it is still not enough. You have never begged for anything but the words are on your lips, your mouth open and eyes wide as you stare at him.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, fingers swirling at your entrance. He pushes in and out, just his fingertips, tormenting you. “That just made you needier, didn’t it? Tsk.” He sighs dramatically. “I don’t usually offer that. It’ll cost you.”

“I’ll cook the recipe on page sixteen too,” you say, making him laugh naturally again.

“What a bargain,” he says. He grabs his jeans and fishes a condom out of the back pocket. He even seems to make a show of that. He puts it on and fists his cock for you, standing above you while you catch your breath. When you reach for him, he grabs your wrists and yanks you up. He is effortless and quick, as always, spinning you around and pressing your hands to the back of the seat.

“You know the rules,” he says. “Hands there or I tie them up. That’s my girl.”

You follow his directions and bend over, feeling utterly debauched before he is even inside you. He lifts your skirt and tugs your panties aside again. You are fully dressed and he is completely naked, but you somehow feel more exposed, more vulnerable in his confident hands. He holds your hips and eases inside you, inch by solid inch until he is pressed up against your backside, buried to the hilt.

“That’s it,” he says, tone still cocky though it soon gives way to panting. He makes a few rough sounds of his own, fucking you quick and dirty in this small room. You are going to walk out of here smelling and looking like sex itself, dishevelled and shaky and well-fucked. Practically a new woman, one you are eager to know, containing as many contradictory dualities as Seungmin.

Seungmin, your goofy friend, who throws his head back as he drives into you again and again, shushing you when you get too loud. He muffles his own cry in your shoulder when he comes, still rocking against you for a moment after that.

“Fuck,” you say, dropping onto the seat after. He is tugging his jeans back on, though his eyes are on you. It is a scrutinous stare again. You undoubtedly have questions for each other. For now, you just smile, taking another shuddery breath as you come down from your high. “Well,” you say. “That might have been worth page seventeen too.”

His gaze softens, the corner of his eyes crinkling with his smile. He leans over you, brushes his nose against yours, and finally kisses you. It is the soft, tender kiss you dreamed about so long ago. It leaves you as breathless as everything else.

“All right, neighbour,” he says, “it’s a date.”

#kim seungmin x reader #seungmin x reader #kim seungmin smut #seungmin smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz x you #stray kids x you #kim seungmin x you #valentinesdaystories #kpop fanfiction

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ellecdc · 2 months

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I absolutely love love love your writing! I have a request if you’re up for it?

Can you write a possessive/ jealous wolfstar x reader. Reader is always wearing baggy clothes so when shes wearing a tight dress that hugs her curvy body for yule ball and the boys in school wont stop staring at her got remus and sirius very jealous?

thank you baby! and thank you for your request. it’s not a whole lot of jealousy, but this is my take on it; hope you like it!! 🫶

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader who looks so good in a ballgown CW: no smut but mention of dicks/horniness, catcalling

There were some things that not many people knew but Remus did.

One thing not many people knew was that Sirius – in all his cool bravado – was the most sensitive person Remus knew. Sirius would cry during any and every movie, he once cried when he saw a baby chipmunk because it was ‘way too small, what the fuck?’, and those closest to Sirius knew that one must watch their tone lest the long-haired boy believe you were mad at him.

Another thing that not many people knew but Remus did was how fucking hot you were. And that’s not to say people didn’t know you were beautiful – your beauty was undeniable.

But Remus (and Sirius) knew a secret.

Under the Hogwarts uniform? Under the boxy dress shirt, plaid pleated skirt, and woolen jumpers and cardigans, was one banging body.

What helped keep this fact to be widely unknown was that when not in your uniform, you could usually be found in Sirius’ quidditch jersey, or Remus’ jumpers, or your own loosely fitting clothes. Your style was simple and understated, usually consisting of loose-fitting shirts and jeans or corduroys. Comfy, cozy, nondescript. It also helped that Sirius’ style was nearly the complete opposite – loud, demanding, and bold - so people spent most of their time ogling him.

It seemed, however, that this secret would be revealed to all of Hogwarts tonight.

“Holy shit.” Peter muttered under his breath as the Marauder’s stood dressed in their best awaiting their dates for the ball. You and Lily traipsed down the stairs in your heels and dresses whilst Peter was bombarded with various whacks to his arms and an ‘oi!’ or two from James, Sirius, and Remus.

But Peter was right, you looked fucking stunning. You were wearing a beautiful satin gown, the fabric spilling sinfully over your body like water and cascading to your ankles. Your shape and figure were further accentuated by the way the lights refracted off the shiny material, leaving nothing to the imagination. He was surprised to see how thin the straps were; there had to be some magic holding the gown to your body, surely.

Remus felt conflicted; he both wanted to throw you over his shoulder and rush back up to the dorms to ravish you and parade you around shouting ‘look at what this poor, scarred werewolf managed to pull!’.

There was one issue.

Sirius.

“What is she wearing!?” He whispered shouted to Remus.

“Pads, don’t upset her.” He murmured into his boyfriend’s ear. “Don’t make her feel self-conscious.”

Sirius let out a sound between a pained moan and a growl but nodded all the same.

You offered the boys a soft smile, shoulders migrating towards your ears proving to Remus that you were indeed feeling a little vulnerable.

“Hey beautiful!” Remus greeted you, taking your hand that adorned the charmed corsage Remus and Sirius had given you that matched the one’s pinned to their lapels and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“Hi boys.” You smiled, looking between the two of them. “You look very nice.”

Sirius scoffed, and Remus prayed to every deity possible that Sirius kept his wits about him. “Not half as good as you, babe! Come on, give us a spin.”

Remus let out a sigh of relief whilst your shoulders migrated impossibly higher, though you obeyed Sirius’ demand, nonetheless.

Remus dick twitched embarrassingly in his pants, and based on the pained groan emanating from Sirius, he was sure his did too. Thinking about Sirius’ dick made his own dick twitch again; this was going to be a long night.

“It’s not too much?” You asked sheepishly as you turned back to face them, embarrassment painting your features as you looked timidly between your two boyfriends.

“No!” Sirius shouted, but his voice came out painfully high. “No.” He corrected, clearing his throat.

“You look stunning, my love.” Remus said more eloquently.

You smiled beautifully albeit shyly at the two boys before your moment was interrupted.

“Circe’s tits, L/N! Where’ve you been hiding that body!?” Barty Crouch Jr called as he let out a wolf whistle, either completely forgetting or ignoring the fact that he was walking arm-in-arm with his boyfriend who only offered his brother and his brother’s dates a simple eyeroll.

“Keep walking you fuckin’ wanker.” Sirius barked.

Remus’ heart clenched when he noticed you start to ring your hands together nervously.

“I don’t know... Lily told me to go with this one, but I have another dress upstairs – maybe I should-”

“Absolutely not.” Sirius cut you off, levelling you with a look that spoke no nonsense.

“It would be a sin to deny the world of such a sight, love.” Remus encouraged pulling you towards him and massaging at your tense jaw with his thumbs. He hoped he was giving you his softest smile possible, and the way your own expression softened in response told him he had.

“Wear what you want, dollface; I can fight.” Sirius added, causing the two of you to break eye contact, looking over to see that he was already tying his hair up pre-emptively. Remus scoffed out a laugh and you whimpered a pained ‘Sirius...’.

“Let’s go, sugar.” He said when he was done, winking at you teasingly. “Let’s show these tossers what they’re missing.”

Remus thought you looked nervous as you allowed Sirius to hook your arms together, though he didn’t know why. You didn’t have to referee Sirius’ tussles; Remus did.

#ask elle #marauders au #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #sirius black #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #remus x sirius #wolfstar #poly!wolfstar #poly!wolfstar x reader #poly!wolfstar x you #poly!wolfstar fluff #ellecdc fics

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skinnytrips · 2 years

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I reached 121lbs and balance at 123lbs if I’ve eaten the past 16 hours. I know I’ll gain back up to 130 very easily, I can’t snack or eat until I’m full, but I can eat still. I have to make time to exercise in this next few days to bring my weight lower again. I want 115lbs, it’s been years since I’ve reached it.

#tw ana stuff #tw ana thoughts #I use the tags for it since there’s no other ‘place’ for this kind of thing #unhealthy goals #unhealthy obsession #unhealthy weight loss #boxy body #no charm #goals #thin goals

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blueywrites · 1 year

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The Munson Dunkin' AU

endgame Eddie Munson x fem!Reader. no use of y/n. all fluff (for now...)

You watch the new guy working the Dunkin' drive-thru window feed a donut to a raccoon. (1.4k)

Inspired by this Tiktok 'cause Eddie really fuckin' would, and we all know it. Thanks to the Coven for talking this silly AU through with me!

tagging @newlips 'cause I have a feeling she might be interested in this one 😘. also, this is written especially for my loves @abibliophobiaa and @ghost-proofbaby🌻

You know everyone who works the drive-thru window at the Dunkin' Donuts closest to your apartment. Or, at least, you thought you did.

When you started your first job as a legal assistant at a small but reputable legal firm, the morning routine you’d enjoyed throughout college drastically transformed. Now, every weekday, your alarm blares so early in the morning it’s practically inhuman. You stuff yourself into dowdy office wear, complete with panty-hose and kitten heels (no rocking the boat with your fashion choices if you want them to take you seriously). And then, you must take your little cobalt-blue Honda Civic and brave the dreaded commute into the city, all in the name of ‘becoming a real working adult’.

So what began as a small indulgence to settle your nerves your first week of work quickly became a daily pick-me-up, a little reward to yourself for 'gettin’ out there and doin' the thing.' Now, you stop at Dunkin' every morning at just after seven to pick up your caffeine fix before heading to the office.

In the last month, you’ve encountered all the early morning drive-thru attendants and recognize them now by voice and manner, though not by name. There’s a pale girl with bright blue eyes and short deep brown hair, voluminous and cut to her narrow jaw, wavy locks framing a small, dimpled chin; a guy with a square face and hazel eyes, sporting finger-tousled bangs that chicly graze one dark brow; and a tanned guy with perpetually half-lidded eyes and pleasantly rounded nose and lips, whose face is framed by a long sheet of shiny, jet-black hair.

It’s obvious who’s working the window on a given day when you hear their greetings at the speaker, which are all very distinct from each other.

The greeting could be chipper and corporatesque, very by the book: “Welcome to Dunkin’, how can I help you?” That one never varies, not even in tone or inflection— she’s so precise, sometimes you wonder if maybe she’s playing a recording or something.

It could be warm and schmoozy, a little overly-familiar but charming all the same: “Well, hey there! How’re you doing today?” It’s nice, but then you have to quickly pivot from your order to say ‘Good, how about you?’, otherwise you feel like an asshole.

Or it could be just one long, semi-coherent slur of a question: “S’up, can I get you somethin’?” Same, dude, you think whenever you get that one. It’s way too early to be awake, and yet here we both are.

It could be any of those options, and today, as you roll up to the speaker, you receive that first greeting. But it’s in the wrong voice. Where you expect something upbeat and crisply feminine, what you get instead is raspy, brash, and decidedly masculine.

“Welcome to Dunkin'. What can I get you today?”

It’s not a voice you recognize, but you don’t particularly care. Automatically, you provide your order, and without any fuss, he confirms your total. Same order, same total, same morning routine as always. That’s all that matters, really. You don’t visit Dunkin' for the bustling social scene, after all.

As you round the corner of the small, boxy building, the drive-thru window with its little orange awning slides into view. That is what you’re rolling steadily towards when a flash of movement near the opposite curb draws your eye to a curious sight: a raccoon. Utterly confounded, you stare at the gray creature— fuzzy and plump like a spool of scratchy yarn— as it inches forward on its tiny dark paws.

Yes, your apartment is in the suburbs, and yes, there is a thick line of trees to that side of the parking lot, so it isn’t that shocking. But you’ve never actually seen a raccoon outside of roadkill splatter on the road, and you certainly weren’t expecting to see one visiting a Dunkin' Donuts. Because that’s truly what it appears to be doing. As it emerges from the treeline, slinking over the curb and onto the asphalt, its nose turns up toward the drive-thru window; those beady eyes remained locked on clear plexiglass, the apparent source of its fascination.

It is seven in the morning, you reason, so there's a possibility that you might just still be half asleep. But when you blink, expecting the creature to clear from your vision like a mirage, it doesn’t go anywhere.

This is actually happening, then. You purse your lips as you consider and confirm your musings with a bobbing nod that no one sees. Yup. This is, for sure, the weirdest goddamn thing I've ever seen.

In fact, you’re so confounded by what’s happening that you’re still rolling forward in your car, drawing ever-closer to the animal at the same time it edges farther into your lane. It doesn’t seem to notice your approach. Instead, the raccoon shuffles forward a few more steps, and then— more peculiar and alarming than if it had done pretty much anything else— it stretches like a slinky, rising onto its two back feet. Its neck disappears into its shoulders as its arms outstretch, like it’s reaching for something that isn’t there.

This is the final nail in the coffin for your composure.

“What in the fuck?”

The sound of your own voice startles you out of your dazed stupor, and your heart leaps into your throat as you realize how close you’ve coasted toward the raccoon. Hastily, you slam the brake, jerking your car to a stop to prevent it from pancaking the oblivious creature.

All is motionless for a moment. And then, in a perversely slow manner, the plexiglass drive-thru window shunts open in a mechanic whirr of laboring motors, crawling until it thunks against the far wall, falling silent.

Considering your alarm and bafflement, it’s more a relief than anything when, after a brief pause, an arm abruptly thrusts through the window opening. Its appearance solves the mystery: the arm is pale but heavily-inked, ending in a thin wrist and a big, broad hand that holds a pink-frosted donut.

The raccoon reaches higher as the arm stretches further, both straining toward one another until those tiny human-like paws close around the offered confection. Then, the animal hunches down to a squat, billowing out in a puddle of bristly gray fur. Its snout quivers as it sniffs the donut, walking its paws along its edge, slowly rotating its prize as you look on in wonderment.

That inked arm has retracted now, but you barely notice. Your long commute and stuffy attire and early morning wake-up have never been further from your mind as you watch the raccoon handle the donut, which is nearly as big as its head. Your confusion has turned to fascination. In fact, it’s kind of cute, you decide as its black paws begin to mound with pink, which smears between its tiny clawed fingers. You hold your breath while, tentatively, it noses at the icing, licking it with a tiny flick of its tongue.

And then, startlingly quickly, the raccoon snatches the donut in its jaws and turns in a flash of gray and black. It skitters on all fours back across the lane, trailing a fat ringed tail which bumps over the curb as it bids a hasty retreat.

With a little, final flick, that tail disappears into the treeline.

It seems, all of a sudden, to have been a privilege to experience this absurdity. And how strange it is that your early-morning exhaustion has suddenly turned to delight— delight which is echoed on the face of the man whose head now pops from the window in a wild mess of brown curls. Pink lips split the pale of his face in a crooked grin.

“Sorry,” he says, and it’s the same brash rasp that greeted you at the speaker. “Little buddy’s gotta get his breakfast, too, y’know?”

So, as it turns out, you don’t know everyone who works the Dunkin' drive-thru window on weekday mornings. And maybe the social scene has more to offer than you originally thought.

I have other ideas for this silly little AU, including some more cameos from familiar faces and a budding romance for our metalhead barista and his favorite customer. If you want more, let me know! ☕️🍩

#blueywrites #barista!eddie #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson drabble #eddie stranger things #eddie munson au

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kookslastbutton · 11 months

Text

Too Late to Dream ༓ jjk (m) || ch. III

✑ Summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.

Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader

AU/Genre: angst, smut, fluff, marriage au, age gap, series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 3,375

Warnings: 8-year age gap, big flashback of bromance between Tae and JK, slight drunkenness, family drama in-laws, imperfect relationship with parents, pent-up issues/desires, jk has daddy issues, mentions of therapy, kookie trying to be a good husband, needy kook 😶

Now Playing: Make It Right, Tryna Be, Infinity, It Will Rain, Heaven+

A/N: chapter 3 is here! I know its so short 😩 but I promise it sets up the next chapters really well! Also, I wanted to get into jk's background a little this time, his undergrad days, and Taehyung of course. It's a big leap but they're older now so...meh. Tysm for everyone's patience! 💞

<< ch. II ༓ ch. IV >> | series masterlist

There weren’t many people Jungkook envied in his life. He was 34 years old, had top-notch experience as an economist within the business and legal sphere, and taught at one of the finest universities in South Korea. He also earned his Ph.D by the time he hit 30, which was undoubtedly the cherry on top.

But if there was one person who could shake the ground from under his feet it would be Kim Taehyung.

The pair met during undergrad through mutual friends. Jungkook had been invited to an off-campus party his first year and Taehyung was an unexpected third party. The man was so put together that it was as if Michelangelo himself reached down and sculpted him from the clay.

16 years ago

“Hi,” a low, baritone voice rumbles. “I’m Taehyung.” He sticks his hand out, waiting for a shake. He’s a little timid but mostly stands upright with a few pieces of his caramel hair falling over his eyes.

Jungkook chuckles at Taehyung’s stark formality. “What’s up, man!” He slaps Taehyung’s hand casually. “Jeon Jungkook.”

Taehyung reeks of sophistication and has the most annoyingly gorgeous face. His boxy grin could charm the pants off anyone who was two feet from him. Hell, even Jungkook feels a little starstruck by him.

Though barely acquaintances, it doesn’t take long for Jungkook to realize they are on opposite ends of the same stick.

Taehyung comes from a wealthy upper-class family. They have four mansions plus a beach house. Every Christmas, he goes to Italy to visit his aunt and uncle. For his 18th birthday, Taehyung got a brand-new Corvette, red with black rims. Everyone wants to be him…everyone wants a piece of Kim Taehyung.

But underneath the surface of his flashy lifestyle is something oddly endearing. Jungkook can’t quite put his finger on it but as the night goes on, he enjoys the man’s company. Taehyung seems to latch onto him as well which shocks both of them to the core.

“Seriously hyung,” Jungkook slurrs. “I don’t know why you’re hanging around me this whole night when you could be getting off with one of the fifty girls who’ve come up to you. Are you playing it cool are you really a loner or something?”

Taehyung snatches the beer bottle from the younger’s hand. “That’s enough drinking for one night Jungkook. You’re about to pass out, I can tell.”

“I’ll decide when I’ve had enough.” Jungkook grabs the bottle back, taking a big slug before wiping his mouth off with his arm. “Something to know about me Taetae. I live by the work hard, play hard kinda philosophy.”

Taehyung cringes at the pet name but chalks it up to Jungkook being off his rocker. “That’s the type of philosophy that’s gotten my family to spend millions on useless crap. It’s fun for a while but it never lasts. I don’t recommend it Jungkook.”

Jungkook snorts. “So you are a loner huh? Because my parents have been stuck in the same loop for years. All work, no play. It’s caused them both to lose every hair on their head. Do you wanna lose your hair by the time you’re 45 Tae? I wouldn’t think so with those luscious locks of yours. Bet some chick would love to yank on them while–”

“I’m not a loner.” Taehyung interrupts, feeling a surge of embarrassment creep up his cheeks. He knows the looks people shot at him and while he didn’t entirely hate it, it always took more than it gave. All he wanted in those moments was to retreat into himself with his paints. Taehyung loved art and like many, found it therapeutic. “I’m not a loner,” he repeats. “I’m just not interested.”

“Sure you’re not buddy.” Jungkook gives a nod but remains largely unconvinced. “But you didn’t answer my question. Why you hanging around me? I’m not that cool ‘cause if I weren’t here, I’d be at the library right now with my nose in the books. Economics doesn’t slap all the time you know.”

Taehyung is silent for a moment before answering.

“I feel like a normal person with you," he starts. "Everyone looks at me like I’m some spoiled golden boy who they can get a free ticket of off if they talk sweet. And yeah, I’m aware of the advantages I’ve had…the struggles most people have that I don’t. But I’m still a real person that wants what most people do...purpose, belonging, someone that just gets them.”

Taehyung takes a breath before continuing.

"I really fucking love painting. It’s my heartbeat honest to god and I’m tired of being looked at as merely an object of someone’s unfulfilled wishes and desires. I like that I don’t need to worry about that with you. I think...we come from different backgrounds but we’re cut from the same cloth Jungkookie. Oh, are you-are you crying?”

“Fucking beautiful Taetae. You’re straight out of Vanity Fair you know that? I’m more of a Forbes magazine guy myself though.”

Taehyung throws Jungkook a puzzled look. Is he being condescending or is this just the booze talking?

“‘Cause I’m a small-town boy with great ambition, intelligence, and gall? We covered this earlier man, keep up!” Jungkook emphasizes his words, hands flying about.

“Right,” Taehyung joins in, recalling the conversation. “You’re father is an analyst for the city and your mom’s an accountant. They want you to get a job nearby after graduation but you don’t want to because–“

“Because it’s too small, boring, set in its traditional ways, and I for one am not fucking with it.” Jungkook sends Taehyung a lopsided grin. “You got a pretty good memory man. Maybe we can be friends after all.”

“I’m so glad,” Taehyung drawls, a slight trace of sarcasm. Jungkook doesn’t notice, however, too busy staring at the strobe lights dancing across the ceiling.

“Hey!” he suddenly pipes up, eyes wider than before. "What are you doing next Friday?”

“Uh, I don’t know. Why?”

“I got this boring family reunion to go to. Happens every year. I don’t wanna go but my parents force me to. You wanna come?”

Taehyung hesitates. “A family reunion? I know I said we’re cut from the same cloth, but we’re not…related Jungkook.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I’ll ask my parents if I can bring a friend. They won’t give a shit as long as I’m there. Also, I heard from my brother that Ha-Yun’s gonna be there.”

“And Ha-Yun is…?”

“Some girl that my parents want to set me up with. Family friend’s daughter. I went to high school with her.”

“So you think that if I’m there I can be your right-hand man or something? Make you look good in front of your future wife?”

“Fuck no. I’m hoping she’ll go to you instead.” Jungkook laughs when he sees the color draining from Taehyung’s face. “It’s nothing against her bro. She isn’t weird or anything. I say this lightly but, I just don’t wanna go out with her and she’s not my type.”

“I’ll think about clearing my schedule for this but I’m not being your meat on a stick,” Taehyung seethes. “But since we’re on this topic, what is your type?”

“Mm, not sure.” Jungkook shrugs. “Someone who’s unexpecting I guess. Like you shouldn’t be together because it's outside of the usual. But you can’t help it. You gotta have this person or it’s over. What about you?”

“Easy,” Taehyung mutters. “I like artists.”

“Artists huh? Like you? Well, I guess I can understand.” Jungkook smirks before leaning his head back against the couch. “One day, I’ll find an artist for you Tae. I promise.”

Oh, the irony.

present

“Jungkook, stop! I need to get up.” You struggle in his arms, biting back a grin. Jungkook has you in a locked position. His hard chest presses close against your back and his leg hugs your body.

“Mm,” he groans. “It’s not time yet.”

“Yes, it is. Also, you’re nearly suffocating me.”You wiggle your body but to no avail. Your husband always tends to get needier as the school year approaches.

"I just don't want you out of my arms yet. Is that a crime now?"

No. No it's not, you sigh to yourself. By this time next week, you’ll be waking up to an empty bed. "Okay." You glance at the alarm clock. "Ten minutes and then I really need to get ready for work."

"Fifteen," Jungkook mumbles.

"Twelve."

"Thirteen."

"No. It's twelve or I'm going now." Jungkook gives a cute grunt and tightens his grip. He really doesn't want you to leave this morning.

"Fine," he says. "Twelve. But we're snuggling again tonight."

"Jungkook. Can't. Breathe." Being spooned by your husband is nice but this isn't spooning anymore. He's completely cacooning himself over you. As soon you feel him shift his weight off you, hand loosening from your waist, your ribs hum in relief.

After what seems like three minutes of complete silence you decide to bite the bullet and ask the question that's been on your mind for the last couple of days.

"Um Jungkook?"

"Yeah?"

"When we went to get ice cream the other night. There was something that happened...to you." You're uneasy bringing it up but you can't shake your concern. When Jungkook saw the little girl with her dad, he went into a bit of a trance. He didn't talk, didn't move, and was pretty numb to your presence all together.

"Oh god," Jungkook groans. "I was hoping you didn't notice but you're my wife so I guess it's fine."

Crap. Was this a sore subject for him? You twist your head over your shoulder, just enough for your ear to be near his lips. You're in high alert now. "Why weren't you hoping I noticed?"

"Isn't it obvious? It's embarrassing." Jungkook smacks his lips before continuing. "But do we really have to talk about it? Spilling ice cream on my shirt at 34 isn't something I really wanna relive through early morning conversations."

Oh he thinks....of course he thinks that's what you're refering to.

"I'm not talking about you being clumsy Jungkook. I'm talking about the little girl with the ribbons. When she was with her dad, you kinda went a little frozen."

Jungkook doesn't reply immediately so you prod him a little. "I just wanna know if everything was alright. I suppose with our current situation I get it if it hit you in a sort of way. Good or bad, whatever the feeling was, you can tell–"

"They seemed happy is all," he croaks, voice dropping an octave. "The kind of happy that makes someone's entire soul stop, I guess. Like they had something special that no one else could. Does that make sense?"

If you look down you think you'll see goosebumps. The words coming from your husband's mouth are, at most, mumbles but they aren't coming from a place of unease or hesitation. Instead they allude to something warm, wholesome, and new.

"Yeah of course, it makes perfect sense. I had a similar experience when I met Si-woo. The way his face light up when he saw his mom comforted me but I felt envious too. Is that wrong of me?"

"Not at all. I think it's a natural response when you see something you want but don't currently have. You know, there was one thing that popped in my thoughts while I watched that father and his daughter..."

"Hm?"

"I thought, maybe I'll be happy too. If we actually have a kid, we'll be happy together like them or something." Yawning, he continues. "I dunno, honey. Kinda sleepy still so if I fall asleep I love you and I hope work goes well. But we can keep talking if you want."

You untuck your hand from under your head and close it over your husband's arm; the one draped around your waist.

Hope. Real hope.

"Dammit why won't you open?!" Jungkook bangs the jar on the side of the kitchen counter. He's been trying to get it open for the last five minutes. With you at work, it's his turn to prepare dinner.

"Take a breath kid," Yoongi says from the other line of the phone.

Jungkook ignores him of course, continuing beat the shit out of the jar in his hand. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you. You stupid jar!"

"Kid!" Yoongi tries again, this time grumbling. "Stop doing that and go get a butter knife or something to hit the side of the lid with. It'll pop right off and I won't sue you for making me go deaf."

"Hyung–"

"Oh I thought you didn't call anyone that anymore. Now that you're a real boy and all. With big boy things." Jungkook shakes his head, hearing the older man snort through the speaker.

"You been talking to Taehyung?" That big mouth, he's become as bad as Jimin. What happened to the more reserved Tae he met in undergrad. He likes him better than this new, cocky mf.

"He may have slipped out a thing or two. But I'm glad to see you're still scared shitless of me that you'll keep calling me hyung."

Jungkook slams the jar on the counter, having enough. "Why the fuck did you call hyung? Can't you tell I'm a little busy right now."

Yoongi chuckles. "Alright I'll stop picking on you. I need a favor. The wife and I want to go out just the two of this weekend. I know you got your professor duties starting but would you and __ be willing to look after our gremlins for a couple hours Saturday?"

"Uh–I'm gonna have to talk to __ about this but maybe?" You and him have babysat for Yoongi's twins a handful of times before. They get a little rowdy but it's been mostly fine. Jungkook's not sure if either of you have the energy or time this weekend though. "I thought you usually got a babysitter."

"Yeah, usually but they're unable to this weekend. I'm hoping this time the babysitter will be you and __. We won't be long but we'd really appreciate it if you guys could do this for us. Could you maybe let me know by Thursday if you can?" Yoongi waits for an answer.

"Yeah alright," Jungkook finally responds. "I'll talk to __ about it when she gets home. No promises though." Jungkook wipes the sweat from his brow. It was a little hot in the kitchen. "Listen Yoongi, I gotta get back to prepping dinner but thanks for that tip about opening the–"

"Jungkook! Hello?" A familiar but muffled voice hollers from the front door. "Are you home?" The door bell is pressed continually without rest.

"Uh my ears," Yoongi pipes. "Who the hell is at your door?"

Jungkook walks towards the front of the house, peaking out the window. What the fuck are those two doing here? "Damn it, I gotta go hyung. My parents have decided to pay an unexpected visit." Before Yoongi has time to reply, Jungkook ends the call.

fuckfuckfuckfuck, he repeats under his breath. Could they not have called beforehand? It's a friggen' ten hour drive. Did someone die or something? Why are they here?

"We can hear you Kookie," Jungkook's mother coos in a sing-songy tone. "No one died. We just wanted to see you and __."

Jungkook opens the front door, not even caring if his face shows he's pissed off. "Mother it'd be nicer if you, I don't know. Planned these things?!"

"I told you," Jungkook's father grippes. "I told you woman, didn't I? We should have called. You never listen to me!"

"Oh shut up you goat," Jungkook's mother pushes her way through the door and into the house. "My son loves me and he's happy to see me." She wraps her arms around Jungkook's waist and presses her cheek against his arm.

"Yeah," his father steps in the house. "He's just jumping with joy with that silly apron on. C'mon, he was obviously in the middle of something. Ugh I'm sorry son. Your mother is, well, you know how she is." He slips out of his shoes and shuffles to the kitchen. "Whatcha cooking anyway? Something good I bet."

Jungkook rubs his face in agitation. __ is not gonna like coming home to his parents running around the house.

"You're not mad at me are you?" His mother lifts her chin, big doe eyes just like his own. "We just missed you and we figured you'll be busy with teaching soon so...we just decided to drive down last night."

Trying to smile, Jungkook brings his arm around her. "No, no I'm not mad. I'm glad to see you and __ will be too."

"Jungkook, why the hell are your parents here?" You force yourself to keep a low voice. Your in-laws were steps away and they had the sharpest pair of ears you knew. You didn't want them to hear a single beat.

Your husband pulls at his hair, pacing small circles around the bedroom. "Trust me, I didn't invite them. They just showed up. I don't even know why they're here besides they just wanted to. I'm really sorry."

You yank your silk blouse over your head, tossing it in the hamper. "I love your parents but you're gonna need to tell them this can't be happening." You change into a basic t-shirt and jeans. "I know they're probably a little lonely with you and your brother so far away but I'd be a far better host with some pre-warnings."

"I know. Mom's just so-" Jungkook pauses, scratching his head. "Persistant...and dad will do whatever she wants."

"Look I get it. Saying no is hard when they just want to see us. But what if we had something going on tonight?"

"You're right, you're right," he sighs. "I'll try bringing it up to them."

"Anything else new happen while I was gone?" You mean it as a joke. You really do. Jungkook gives you a look that says yes though. Excellent.

"Well, uh...Yoongi hyung asked if we could babysit Saturday. Him and the Mrs want to go out but thier regular babysitter isn't available that night."

Groaning, your shoulders slope down. "Wha–uh at this rate why the hell not? I was just looking for more things to do."

"Honey," Jungkook makes his way over to you. "We don't have to if–"

"You guys still in there?!" Jungkook's mother intrudes, pounding on the door. "You better not be having coitus! Though grandchildren would be nice if that were to ever be in the cards."

"Coitus?" You mouth silently. Jungkook's parents were a little old fashioned sure but who the heck still says coitus?

"We'll be out in a second. Can you and dad set the table?" Jungkook responds, girmacing at his mothers word choice.

"Okay but wrap it up in there. I'm only here for two days. I wanna see my beautiful daughter in-law!"

You and Jungkook immediately exchange a slack-jawed expression. "What?" With the door thrown open, your husband's eyeborws furrow. "Mom you can't be serious."

"Oh don't look so worried!" The older woman lets out a restrained chuckle. "We're not gonna stay in the house with you or anything. We got a hotel. But ten hours is a long drive and I really wanted to see you. Your father and I don't hear from you often and you didn't come to the last family reunion. What do you expect us to do? Just not see our son?"

"Please don't say it like that Mom," Jungkook combs his fingers through his hair, teeth grinding together. "You know that __ and I are–"

"Always happy to see you!" You rush next to your husband who's startled by your sudden change in demeanor. "Jungkook's just been a little anxious about returning to the university. But we'd love to spend a couple to days with you and dad. Let's start with dinner!"

You usher everyone down the hall and towards the dining room. Jungkook's mother is filled to the brim with joy while your husband slightly, actually very, concerned.

A/N: Apologies for any editing errors! Also close to adding some spicy stuff but we gonna wait on that a little longer 😉 Lmk what you think and if you wanna join taglist comment or send an ask. Thanks!! 😙💗

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goldenhypen · 11 months

Text

; ⎯ may i have this dance?

synopsis. when a certain special song comes on, you and riki meet eyes across the large and crowded room, moments before he decides to ask you for a dance.

pairing. ni-ki x fem!reader ⋅ genres. fluff, classmates/friends to lovers, highschool dance!au ⋅ wc. 1.1k ⋅ warnings. none

prompts 1. holding their hands when they are shaking ; 14. singing and dancing to their favourite song ; 18. sharing a soft smile across a crowded room ⋅ requested by 3 lovely anons <3 ⋅ dark blood event

song rec. nan-nan — fujii kaze (recommended by the nishimura riki himself i’m actually being fr so go listen to it !!!)

a/n. so many ppl ik are graduating hs this year and so this is rlly giving ✧ prom ✧ ,,,,,, i miss my prom :’> even tho it was kinda sorta a big disaster ,, but uh ,,, that’s a story for another time :’>

the mildly chaotic atmosphere mixed with the heat emitting from hundreds of bodies filling the room, you swayed side to side, doing your best to mask the hidden gloom you were feeling inside.

you had come to your school dance with your friends, but being too immersed into the music and the energy of the night, they eventually found themselves drifting off to go dance with others they took interest in, leaving you all alone at the corner of the dance floor, moving around awkwardly to look like you were busy and enjoying your time, when really, you felt lonely and pathetic.

eventually, the upbeat, hype song ended, and on came one you immediately recognized to be by none other than fujii kaze, one of his pieces called nan-nan. you smiled at the memory it brought to you from a few months ago…

you were sitting in class beside one of your peers you wished you had the opportunity to grow closer with, nishimura riki. after knowing him for some time you found there was some unique charm to him, from the way his boxy smile would fill the room with a glowing aura, to the way he would make those around him laugh at his silly behaviour. there was just something so attractive about him, and one day you began to realize the way your heart would pound abnormally whenever he would do as little as say your name; or the way your stomach would flutter with butterflies whenever he would share a new favourite song of his with you, and how his eyes would light up whenever you expressed that you liked it.

you began to like this boy called riki ever since.

and so when nan-nan began playing, the instrumental in the intro leaving the speakers and filling the echoey room, you somehow found and locked eyes with riki, perhaps through some crazy coincidence or maybe by fate, and you smiled at him immediately before he returned it, as you were reminded of the time he happened to share that exact song with you in class just a few days ago.

he was dancing with his own friends and having a good time, but after meeting eyes with you, he immediately made his way over with that goofy, excited grin on his face. and your heart went wild.

he looked stunning in his white button-up, sleeves rolled up to highlight his forearms perfectly. it was a typical outfit for all the guys at this dance, really, but somehow, in your eyes, riki pulled it off infinitely better than any of the other hundred boys in the large room, dancing their worries away.

his hair was slicked back, exposing his forehead which you didn’t get to view every day, for most of the time it was hidden under his fallen bangs.

and why was he looking so stunningly tall today? there’s no way he could have grown so much in just one day…

and before you knew it, the boy with the growing grin was standing in front of you with a hand out, asking for your own.

you glanced down at the welcoming gesture and gulped before blinking and looking back into his eyes that searched your own.

“you looked a little bored dancing all the way over here, but the fun is in the middle. wanna join me?” he proposed, practically yelling to get his words in over the blasting music. “and plus, it’s our favourite song.”

‘our favourite song.’ just at the use of a simple three-word sentence, a heat stronger than the one already surrounding your body made its way up from your neck, all the way to your ears.

you nodded, accepting his invite and placing your hand in his before he smiled at you and led you to the middle of the dance floor.

he turned to face you, and you chuckled, voice wavering.

“your hand’s shaking,” he pointed out.

“a little sweaty too, i guess—sorry,” you blurted out.

“are you nervous?” he asked with utmost care in his voice, a contrast to the usual tease he was to those close to him.

you pressed your lips together before displaying a small smile and tilting your head side to side, a way of saying ‘kind of, maybe a little.’

understanding and giving you a look of empathy, he grabbed your other hand before bringing them to his shoulders.

“just follow me, okay?” he told you.

and you nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck as his met your waist.

you two then danced along to the music that made your hearts happy, and you found your nerves disappearing in an instant, forgetting any stresses that were previously on your mind as you enjoyed your time together in each other’s hold.

and whenever he wanted to change things up once in a while, being the dance talent he was, he would guide your body along with his in moves that were simpler to pull off than they looked (but maybe that was just because he was a natural when it came to this kind of thing), leading you to do turns here and there, or pulling your bodies apart and then meeting closer once again. anything he did with you on that dance floor made you two look amazing amidst enjoying your time with one another, and he just made the experience all the more worthwhile.

and whenever his moves would slow, he would take that time to dramatically sing his heart out, and you’d follow along playfully, making each other laugh.

once your favourite song ended and another immediately began to roll around, both your movements naturally slowed, and he pulled away slightly before speaking.

“thank you for the dance.”

“thank you,” you smiled softly.

he smirked, “your dancing’s not too bad.”

“i could say the same for you,” you followed with a chuckle.

“we should do this more often,” he suggested. “or maybe that’s just an excuse for me to show you more songs sometime, who knows?”

“you know, both don’t sound too bad to be honest,” you replied.

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

“cool,” he said, unable to hide his proud smile for just getting the girl he liked to do some of his favourite things with him in the future, in the form of which was already sounding like a potential date. “in the meantime, this song sounds a little too good to skip out on… care for another dance?”

he held out his hand to you for the second time that night, a smile painting his lips.

“i’d love to.”

a/n. so story time in regards to the prev a/n bc i have no love life <//33 ,,, basically at my prom one of the literal four things i remember from that night was how me and this old guy friend who i kinda liked at the time and i think he liked me too (but we drifted apart a couple years ago,, and to put this into perspective, this took place exactly one year ago) kept making eye contact throughout the whole night and created this super thick tension. ok the thing is :’> i hadn’t seen him for a whole year cuz he graduated the year before me, and we used to be pretty good friends but didn’t rlly keep in contact after not seeing each other for one whole year. and so we kept making eye contact, probably wanting to say hi, but it eventually came to the point where it would be awkward cuz it was so obvious we had both acknowledged each other’s presence for the past 30 mins !!! it was so awkward omg and jsnsjd wait hold on don’t even get me started on how we even ended up later then sitting at the same table but still not saying a word to each other djdndjd T-T and then by the time we all finally went our separate ways, i was left feeling a sense of emptiness and regret T-T ,,,,,, the tension y’all i cannot stress it enough !!!! ugh ihateitihateitihateit but anyway, switching topics while i try to erase this forbidden memory from my mind all over again,, about the drabble, i hope you guys enjoyed <3 if you did, letting me know through more than just likes (rbs, comments, asks, etc.) helps out a lot !! i rlly appreciate it, thanks for reading !!

event masterlist.

taglist 1 (taglist 2 open). @raimbows4u @sultrybaby @kpop-nct @ajayke-reads @enhacolor @enhasfever @nokacchan @yizhoutv @xiaoderrrr @soobin-chois @tyunni @shinsou-rii @liikno @softkpopplace @belle643 @nar-nia @pshchives @sunjakes @ethereal-engene @yeosayang @4ri-ki @sunoksunny @jaeyunjakesim @tnyhees @enaus @hoes4hoseok @palajae @clarakyunisageek @annoyingbitch83 @4vonly @wonswondrland @rcrystallocks @stepout-09-15 @zeraaax @enhasengene @ktttwwn @pistachiophobia @svnoofy @sweetjaemss @vatterie @mnsnts @chacottone @yeseoist @azurez @milisabunny @wonniestars @iamliacamila @rikislady @kazmura @nicholasluvbot

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spaceyaceface · 11 months

Text

Losing Patience

Sebastian Sallow x f!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Request: Ominis is sick of seeing his best friends pine for each other, so he forces them to get together. Requested by @scrambled-eggs-y

Warnings: None :)

Also available on AO3

Ominis Gaunt considered himself a patient young man—he had, after all, been friends with Sebastian and Anne for several years. He knew all too well the weary sighs given by professors and peers given after one or the other had done something irritating. His reserve of patience was tried even more when a certain girl joined the vacancy Anne left in their fifth year—it was incredible; he’d used to think that there was only a certain amount of trouble the students of Hogwarts could get away with. Y/N quickly surpassed what he had once thought were the limits. Her and Sebastian were a wonderfully horrible pair. It was fun to watch, really—when they weren’t meddling in Dark Magic, of course.

But time had passed and the pair had gotten off the dark path they’d been traveling down. Ominis was grateful for this, obviously, but it seemed that the two had chosen a new, almost as horrible path—one that was finally testing his deep well of patience.

The idiots had fallen in love with each other, and were too stupid to admit it.

It was sickening, the way they flirted with each other, always toeing the edge while never stepping off it. It had been that way for nearly a year now—it hadn’t taken long for him to catch on. There were inflections in their voices reserved solely for each other, soft tones they used when they thought no one else was listening. One of them just had to take that leap of faith, through themselves off the edge and into the arms of the other that were desperately waiting for them.

He knew that each of their hesitations stemmed from similar things—both were ridiculously stubborn. Sebastian held fast to the title of the most stubborn person Ominis had ever met. Y/N was a close second. Both were insecure. Y/N was more obvious in this trait, feeling like her status as “Hero of Hogwarts” was beyond her, while Sebastian hid this a bit better. But Ominis knew his oldest friend well.

Somehow, Ominis found himself stuck between the two of them yet again, listening to them bicker like a married couple as they practiced their charms.

“Sebastian, the movement is more circular, you’re doing it too boxy, it’s not—”

“This is exactly how I’ve been doing it since second year, I think I’d have figured it out by now.”

“Oh really? Then why isn’t it working, hm?”

Ominis sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m never going to get a moment of rest with the two of you.”

Sebastian chuckled. “What fun would that be?” Ominis heard an unsatisfied hum. Sebastian must have tried the charm one more time, once again failing to get the desired result.

“Oh for Salazar’s sake, Sebastian, give me that.” Y/N leaned over Ominis, grabbing the lock Sebastian was practicing on from the table and placing it in front of her. “Alohamora,” she said, and her spell was followed by a distinct click signaling her success. Ominis could only imagine the satisfied look she was sporting. “Too boxy, see?”

“You know full well I’ve done that spell right thousands of times,” Sebastian whined.

“So what is it that’s throwing you off?” Y/N gave an over-dramatic gasp. “It’s my stunning good looks, isn’t it?”

“More like your horrid spell. Seems like someone was off feeding her hippogriffs before class, did you step in dung or something?”

The three of them stood up after hearing Professor Ronan dismiss them. Y/N took the opportunity to shove Sebastian’s arm. “I smell wonderful. I know for a fact you like my perfume, you git.”

“I—shut up, I’m not a git,” Sebastian said, voice a bit tight. “I’ll take you to Hogsmeade this weekend to prove it. You, um, and Ominis.”

“Fine then,” Y/N said. There it was, that hint of disappointment Ominis knew all too well.

Idiots. The both of them.

Ominis tuned out the rest of their conversation as they continued down the hall. At that moment, he made a decision. He’d get them to confess—they likely wouldn’t be any less insufferable once together, but that stupid tension would be gone.

It was Ominis’s turn for a bit of mischief.

—-----

The next time Ominis found himself alone with Sebastian was that night in the common room. Y/N had gone up to bed after they had all snuck back from the Undercroft, and Sebastian was just about to do the same when Ominis called after him.

“What?” Sebastian asked, a bit puzzled. It wasn’t like Ominis to keep him up late.

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” Ominis said, folding his arms and leaning against the wall.

He heard Sebastian shift uncomfortably. “And what is this something?”

“Y/N.”

Sebastian took a moment to reply. “Is… is something wrong with her? Are you worried about her? I didn’t think she was acting off, did I miss—”

“Oh, Merlin’s Beard, Sebastian, this is exactly why I need to talk to you about this,” Ominis said, exasperated.

“Well, if you could enlighten me, I would much appreciate it,” Sebastian spat back.

“I have never seen you this worked up about anything,” Ominis said. He let out a low chuckle. “Honestly, it’s a bit pathetic. Would you please just get on and tell her how you feel? It’s infuriating.”

“Hang on, are you implying that—”

“You’re helplessly in love with her? Absolutely.” He smirked. “Though I know for certain it’s much more than just implied.”

Oh, what he wouldn’t have given to see Sebastian’s face at that moment. He could only imagine the fury, the disbelief, it must truly have been a sight to behold. “I’m not… Look Ominis, even if I was… interested in her that way, I would never tell her.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s obvious she doesn’t feel the same.”

Ominis scoffed and pushed himself off of the wall, standing in front of Sebastian. “You two flirt more than you breathe when you’re around each other.”

“That doesn’t mean anything!” Sebastian said defensively. “That’s just how we are. As friends.”

“Right,” Ominis said, tone sarcastic. “The two of you are truly duller than I realized. You’re the blind one if you can’t see how she feels about you.”

Sebastian stormed up the stairs to their dorm room without another word. It seemed that he wouldn’t get anywhere with him. Though perhaps with Y/N…

He considered it lucky that they had History of Magic together the next day. She continued taking the class because though Binns was an abysmal professor, she found the subject itself interesting. Ominis took it because it was a great class to nap in.

He wouldn’t be napping today, though. When he took his seat next to Y/N, he whispered to her. “Tell Sebastian you’re in love with him yet?”

Y/N jumped in her seat, used to Ominis being asleep in mere moments of sitting down. “What—what are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. He’s too coward to say anything himself. Would you please do the honor and admit it to him so you two could get a move on?”

She leaned down to whisper as Binns droned on. “You know full well that Sebastian is a flirt with everyone. He doesn’t feel that way towards me.”

“So you do fancy him.”

She huffed, clearly regretting her words. “I’m not telling him. It would ruin our friendship.”

“Isn’t that what you want? To ruin it?”

“Ominis, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to pummel you with my textbook.”

Ominis frowned, laying his head down and taking a troubled nap.

—-----

There was a new tension in the air that afternoon. Things between the three of them were… strained. Ominis guessed that by planting the thought that they might have their feelings returned, both of his friends were stuck trying to overanalyze one another. It created a whole new dynamic of overly polite words and gestures. It. Was. Awful.

For a little bit, he thought this might be it—he could have pushed them close enough to the edge that they had no choice but to leap, but as the afternoon stretched on, he realized he had gotten his hopes up too soon.

As he listened to Y/N shyly thank Sebastian for holding the door open for her for what had to be the tenth time, Ominis was about out of his mind. He knew that despite the shift in their behaviors, they were no closer to admitting their feelings to one another than they were yesterday.

A plan formed in his mind. It was stupid, really—but he figured idiotic friends called for idiotic measures.

“Before we go to the common room, could we make a quick stop?” Ominis said, hoping they’d be willing to follow him.

“If it’s quick,” Y/N said. Sebastian didn’t argue.

He kept them chatting with small talk about classes and essays as they walked around the corridors. It was enough to distract them from thinking of his location. Finally, they stood in front of a supply closet, one he and Sebastian had hid in a few times during their early years of sneaking around the school.

He opened the door and frowned, humming in disapproval.

Y/N came to stand by his side. “What’s the matter?”

“Not sure. Could I borrow your wand for a moment?” Ominis asked. Oh God, please let this work.

He heard the shuffle of her robes as she pulled it out, handing it to him. Too easy. “Why?”

Ominis grinned wickedly. “Oh, no reason.”

Before either of his friends could react, he shoved them both into the closet, Sebastian giving a groan of discomfort as he hit the far wall of the tiny room. Ominis stood in the doorway, smiling at them.

“I’m not opening this door until the two of you sort yourselves out. You know what I’m talking about.” He slammed the door shut and charmed the lock, leaning against the wall beside it with a sigh.

—----

When the Ominis closed the door, the pair found themselves enveloped in darkness. It took Y/N a moment to process her situation—she was locked in a dark room, without her wand. Oh, and Sebastian was there. She jolted forward, realizing she had been leaning back against him, pressing him between her and the wall. His chest had been warm against her back. She was glad it was dark in there.

She pounded her fist on the door. “Ominis! You prick, let us out of here!”

Sebastian joined in her shouting. “I swear Ominis, if you don’t open the door I’m going to—”

He didn’t get to finish his threat, interrupted by the snickering on the other side of the door. Y/N groaned. “He’s not letting us out.”

Sebastian shifted in the small space, pulling his arm forward apoligizing as he brushed against Y/N’s shoulder. There was hardly room to move in there. She shuffled around facing him right as he said, “Lumos.”

She slammed her eyes shut at the bright light blinding her from the tip of his wand. “Merlin’s Beard, Sebastian.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, lowering the wand a bit. She tried to look up at him, white spots dancing in her vision. Godric, he was close.

He frowned slightly. “I still have my wand. I can try unlocking the door.”

“Well, you did prove abysmal at that spell just yesterday, but go ahead.”

He tried, to no avail. Y/N took the wand from his hand, insisting she try herself, but it still didn’t work—the wand didn’t want to cooperate with her. There was more snickering from outside of the closet.

Y/N groaned, laying her head back against the wall behind her. “Bloody Hell,” she said.

Sebastian leaned against his own wall across from her. “Now what? Do you… know what Ominis was going on about?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she mumbled.

Sebastian sighed. “It really doesn’t seem like we have a choice.”

Silence settled between them. It went on for several moments before they both started talking at once.

“I guess I should just—”

“Well, there’s no getting around it—”

They both shut their mouths, staring at one another. “Um,” Sebastian said. “Ladies first.”

“No, uh, you go first. I insist,” she responded.

He sighed in defeat, arms folded across his chest. He looked away from her, focusing on the corner of the closet’s ceiling. “I… know what Ominis is getting at by locking us in here. I suppose I’m rather… fond of you, and I guess that it’s driving him mad—”

“Fond?” she asked. “Why would that be driving him mad, we’re friends, of course you would be—”

“Ok, fine, fond isn’t the right word for this. It’s um, well it’s more like I’m in love with you.” His eyes met hers for a brief moment, before dodging away again.

Despite the nerves bubbling up in her stomach, she couldn’t help but start to smile. “Like you’re in love with me?”

He looked down at her again, and upon seeing the smile on her face, he kept his gaze there. “Not like,” he admitted. “I am. I’m completely mad about you, Y/N.”

She took a step forward as he unfolded his arms. In that small space, that was all it took to be a breath away from him. “That’s good,” she said softly, smile widening.

He leaned forward, grinning down at her. “Really?”

“Really,” she said, hands resting on his shoulders. “Because I’m in love with you, too.”

His lips found hers in an instant, his large hands coming to settle on her waist in an effort to pull her even closer. The first kiss was short, interrupted by the smiles they both wore. But then he leaned down to kiss her again, and oh Merlin, were his lips soft as they brushed against hers, begging for more as he tasted her. His fingers dug into her waist, and—

The door of the closet banged open, light flooding down on them.

Ominis smirked at the both of them. “There we are. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

She flushed, glad her friend couldn’t see the state of them both. He set her wand on the ground beside the door. “Right, well I’ll leave you two to it. As a thank you, I expect you not to snog around me.”

Ominis turned and left. Sebastian looked back down at her, face red, but smile wide. “We were in the middle of something, weren’t we?”

Y/N grabbed her wand and slammed the closet door shut once more.

#Sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow imagine

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serosblunt · 9 months

Text

BakuSquad Boys: Showering with Them (Pt. 1)

BakuSquad x (Gender-neutral) reader

Characters: Sero & Denki

Warnings: None really; mentions of shaving, nudity, hints at spicier things.

Description: What I imagine showering with these two would be like, from how often they shower to skincare routines and fun little quirks they have. Kirishima and Bakugo coming soon in part 2 :)

—————

He loves to bathe with you, no matter how it’s done. Bath vs. shower, quick or not, he doesn’t care. Sero’s convinced it’s one of the most intimate things in the world. Especially when he shaves your legs for you.

He gets it, sometimes the feeling of hair is overwhelming, but you’re too tired to be able to shave yourself, and honestly, you can’t help but fall in love with the way he plants kisses up your calves as he goes.

Trust me when I tell you ladies, gents and everyone in between, this man is the KING of shaving for you. Body part is irrelevant, he’s got it. Just put your leg up on his, babe, and you’re good to go. And if waxing is more your style, you’re in luck! Your charming boyfriend comes with a handsome smile and an unlimited supply of tape- a handy substitute for wax strips.

Hanta spent hours practicing on patches of his own hair so as to perfect his technique before he dared risk damaging your beautiful skin.

You’re usually both nightly shower-ers, unless Hanta’s weekly night shift interferes, which he hates more than anything. Showering alone in those boxy agency stalls could go suck ass as far as he was concerned. He lives for quiet nights with you. This is where the routine usually begins.

An intimate dinner, low music playing in the background to fill the silence, or burning conversation that just couldn’t wait to be heard. But normally this is saved for the bathroom, this is where you both really begin to wind down for the night.

Celebrating your vulnerability by talking about your days, and gently massaging the stress out of aching muscles; kissing away annoyances to replace them with a new, more comfortable warmth.

The tape-hero’s arms wrap around you from behind as you do your skincare in the mirror. He places gentle kisses to your neck as he patiently waits his turn. There’s never a burden behind these touches, nothing that says you have to go further. Nevertheless, you appreciate the love he puts into each caress of your skin, despite already knowing the outcome of the night will be an early bed time to combat Hanta’s outrageous patrol schedule, and you happily curled up in your hero’s chest. Once Sero does get his turn in front of the mirror, his routine is quite simple.

Having already brushed his teeth to keep that signature smile shining, he uses a basic facial cleanser - one you got him onto. After that, there’s another mystery product that he can never pronounce, but the serum has helped his childhood acne scars to no end. Slap on a bit of moisturiser and he’s done. Simple as that.

He never had a skincare routine before he met you, so these steps feel like quite a milestone achievement to him. Needless to say, he ALWAYS sticks to his routine, and he’s quick to pull you up and help you with yours if you happen to be slacking a little that day.

Never in the history of the world, has a man gone more feral for someone’s body than Denki does for yours. You like to joke that he was actually born with some sort of bloodhound quirk crossed with his electricity. Only your loving boyfriend doesn’t smell blood, oh no. He has a wicked sixth sense about when you are actually, or are planning to get naked; and he refuses to be absent for that particular event.

He normally showers every second day, most of the time that happens to be at the agency, out of convenience. It serves as a good visual reminder to him. He’s not a barbarian though, if he needs a shower, he’ll take one. Besides, it’s not like his routine is exactly consistent. If you’re naked too…well, who could resist?

However, on the odd occasion when you are showering and he doesn’t feel like joining you, he’s not just going to leave the bathroom. No, no, that little sneak will be watching the entire time.

The two of you can still carry on with a conversation for the most part, but the second you stretch your arms up to wash your hair, he’s a goner.

Droolin’ fool type goner.

Kaminari considers it his duty to moisturise your body. He especially admires how smooth your skin is after you’ve exfoliated, but he thinks you’re smokin’ either way. He’s just honoured that you even let him touch you like that. It’s arguably his favourite part of the day, feeling your velvety skin gliding beneath his palms. And it’s not like you dont get anything out of the experience either ;)

Hear me out, Denki LOVES doing skincare with you. Any excuse he has to get close to you is a win in his mind.

To the blond, the feeling of your hands on his face are equally as soothing as the water itself. Your apartment doesn’t have any of those fancy water filters on the faucets, thus, Denki finds showers particularly calming after a long day. Tap water is a good conductor of electricity, and is often useful in helping your sparking boyfriend come back to himself after he’s overused his quirk, or just had a bit of a rough mission.

Sometimes, he can quite literally feel his quirk humming through his skin as it recharges itself, occasionally leaving tiny Lichtenberg figures down his arms.

If you ever do a facemask on yourself without telling your boyfriend, he actually considers it a personal offence. His motto when it comes to skincare is, whatever goes on your skin, goes on his.

Cleansers, serums, balms, creams, masks, the whole nine yards. Denki has never complained once because he truly loves every minute of it. To him, it feels like you guys are secretly matching in an odd way. As he inhales the lingering scent of the new moisturiser you had wanted to try the night before, he’s reminded of all the laughs you’ve had in your tiny apartment ensuite.

Like when he tried to kiss you through the ill-fitting lip sections of a sheet mask, before you had pulled away, lightly swatting his shoulder and warning him about ingesting the serum. The subtle feeling of being close to you provides memories he carries with him everywhere throughout his day, like a badge of honour.

—————

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hamsterclaw · 5 months

Text

Heist

Bangtan Christmas 2023 drabble 5 - read the rest here.

You know you can't trust Kim Taehyung from the moment you set eyes on him, he's a rogue through and through. So why do you agree to work together?

Pairing: Taehyung x f! reader

Rating: 18+

Word count: 4.2k

Genre: Con artists Taehyung and reader, smut, fluff

Warnings: Sex, swearing

It takes a con artist to know one, and you clocked Kim Taehyung as soon as he sauntered into the room with an insouciance so natural you knew it had to be practiced.

Even if you weren’t a con artist, just like he is, you’d have been able to work it out.

The preternatural beauty.

The elegance of his movements.

The exquisitely tailored clothing.

He’s too perfect to be real, and if there’s one thing you’ve learned in your time on this earth is that when something or someone is too perfect to be real, that it’s because they aren’t.

Real, you mean, you’re not arguing that he’s perfect.

He works the room, charming, oozing sincerity, all artfully tousled dark hair, boxy smile and dark eyes.

You’re watching, amused, as he collects influential people like they’re his friends instead of pawns in his game of confidence.

You’re so distracted that your own companion for the night, a dull but fabulously wealthy man called Seongho, comments on it, bringing you back to your present.

You’ve got your own game to run tonight, you remind yourself.

You put the beautiful man out of your thoughts and get back to it.

***

The hotel room door closes behind you with a quiet, discreet click, and the lush carpet muffles your footsteps as you tiptoe to the elevators.

The silver panels are about to close in front of you when a man enters hurriedly.

Speak of the devil.

It’s the beautiful con artist from last night.

He eyes you, then holds out his hand.

‘Kim Taehyung,’ he says.

His voice is deep, smoky, reminiscent of campfires, of toasted marshmallows and warmth.

You shake, introduce yourself in turn.

‘I noticed you last night,’ he says.

‘Yeah?’ you hum, non-committal.

‘Yeah,’ he says.

At first you think he’s going to leave it at that, but then he laughs softly and asks, ‘Want to get breakfast?’

***

You’re a pretty pair, you have to admit, when you catch a glimpse of yourselves in the glass at the 24 hour cafe you’re eating at.

His physical attributes complement your own.

You could be siblings, friends, lovers. The possibilities are endless.

You catch him eyeing you over his waffles, assessing you like you assessed him last night.

He forks a mouthful of waffles into his mouth, chews, swallows. Washes it down with a swig of coffee.

You cut your pancakes into squares, small, even.

‘Want to work together?’ he asks. ‘The Black and White Ball is in a couple months.’

You flick your gaze at him.

‘You’ve got an invite to the Black and White Ball?’ you ask, genuinely curious.

The Black and White Ball is the society event of the season. It’s annual, the week before Christmas, and an invitation costs upwards of 50 million won. You’ve never had the stomach to find out how much a table costs.

It’s attended by a veritable who’s who of powerful people in the city. A con artist’s dream.

Taehyung shrugs, slides his phone across the table at you.

‘I have two.’

You glance at the invitation, the familiar branding, but you already know it’s legitimate.

You’re pretty good at knowing when people are lying, it helps that you’re so good at lying yourself.

‘Why do you need me?’ you ask, hedging.

Taehyung takes his phone back, slips it into the inside breast pocket of his exquisitely cut jacket.

‘You’re like me. Think what we could do if we worked together.’

The offer is as irresistible as his stunning smile.

This time, it’s you who reaches out your hand.

***

Taehyung’s waiting outside the office building where you work when you finish.

He glances over your neutral work outfit, your sensible flats, smirks a little.

‘What do you know? Turns out your legs are as beautiful in couture as they are in cheap-ass polyester.’

You roll your eyes. ‘Yeah. What are you cosplaying as today? A broke college student?’

You tilt your head at his baggy jeans, casual tee under his oversized coat and beanie, the wire-rimmed glasses you know damn well are an affectation rather than a necessity.

Taehyung laughs, holds out his arm. ‘Come on, let’s get noodles. I’ve got a party to get ready for tonight.’

At the noodle bar, you work on your cover stories for the Black and White Ball in between slurps of ramen.

‘So your business is an exclusive boutique eco-hotel in Northern Costa Rica,’ you say, clarifying.

‘The views of Nicaragua Lake are stunning at sunrise in the early morning,’ Taehyung offers. He sips his drink.

‘How much truth is in that, Taehyung?’ you ask.

‘Does it matter?’ Taehyung asks. ‘People love to invest in something sustainable.’

At your expression, he relents. ‘My mother loved Costa Rica,’ he says. ‘We went on a family holiday there once when I was a kid. I’ve never forgotten it.’

Using a grain of truth to make the lie more believable. You have to admit the man is clever.

‘And you —’

‘My father worked with Starck, in Tokyo and Saint-Tropez,’ you tell him. ‘He set up his own architectural firm and I worked for him before the firm closed down a couple years ago.’

‘Family heritage,’ Taehyung muses. ‘I like it.’

You wait for him to ask how much of your story is true, but he doesn’t, simply hums and takes another slurp of noodles.

The truth is, it’s all true. The only bit you left out was that your father was as crooked as he was brilliant, and when the biggest con of his career collapsed, it took your family’s reputation in the architectural world and your entire fortune with it.

‘If we do this right, we’ll be set for life,’ Taehyung says.

‘Or until we get bored,’ you say.

Taehyung stretches. ‘Bored? I can see myself on a beach in Costa Rica. Sun, the rainforest, fish so fresh you can taste the ocean.’

He shrugs. ‘The only thing that would make it more perfect is you in a bikini, with me.’

You can’t deny the picture he paints is tempting, but you can’t let him have the last word.

‘I prefer to sunbathe topless,’ you say, haughty.

‘Even better,’ Taehyung agrees.

He waggles his dark brows at you over his noodles. ‘Eat up, heiress. We have more work to do.’

***

You walk into the gym and look around for Taehyung.

You spot him, flat on his back, near the weights.

You march over to him. ‘Was this really necessary?’ you ask, exasperated.

He grins up at you. ‘I like the view from under you like this.’

You give him a stern look as you try to suppress your reluctant smile.

‘Spot me,’ he says, arms folding under the barbell.

‘I won’t,’ you say, turning your back, crossing your arms.

Taehyung laughs, grunts softly as he lifts the weight and places it back on the rack.

He sits up, swats at your ass with the towel around his neck. ‘I gotta take a shower, wanna join me?’

‘You owe me dinner for making me wait on your ass,’ you say, sourly.

Taehyung stands. You’d forgotten how tall he is.

He tilts his head at you. ‘I’d wait as long as you wanted me to, for your ass,’ he says, the smoke in his voice making your toes curl.

Thank god you’re wearing sneakers so he can’t see.

‘Stop flirting with me and get showered. I have a date with a mark,’ you tell him.

‘Ah,’ he says, softly. ‘That’s why you look so good.’

Heat passes between you as you lock eyes.

‘Wouldn’t want to keep you from the hustle,’ he says. His voice has dropped so low you can barely hear him.

His mouth is so close to your ear if you turned your head your lips would meet.

You stay completely still.

‘Like I said, you’re buying. I want sushi.’

His laughter echoes in your ear as he saunters away.

You stare at his ass as he leaves. You can’t help it.

Damn, the man looks good.

***

There are two men in the room at this charity dinner who have seen pieces of the real you.

One is Kim Taehyung, who you’ve not known for long but in some ways knows you better than some of these shallow acquaintances.

One is Kim Namjoon, an artist and sculptor who’s just had shows in New York and Berlin, a renaissance man, a scion of an already prestigious family of publishers and artists.

The man you’d dated for five years until you realised he was too good for you.

Honest when you were duplicitous.

Behaving with integrity when you were getting down and dirty.

A man who recognises his own worth, secure in his position in the world, when your own world broke apart when your family company turned to existential rubble.

Potato, potahto.

Taehyung, beside you as your official date for this charity event, hands you a flute of champagne.

‘Drink up,’ he says, brisk. ‘Then tell me why you look like you got slapped across the face when the Kims entered.’

You do as you’re told, downing the entire contents of the glass in one.

Taehyung takes the empty glass from you and hands you his own.

‘We have a job to do,’ he says, quietly. ‘So tell me if I need to keep Kim Namjoon away from you.’

His firm tone reminds you that it’s not just your own livelihood at stake, that you have an agreement and you depend on each other now.

‘We dated. For a long time,’ you say, deciding to stick to the facts.

‘And?’ Taehyung prompts, turning you gently to steer you away from a collision course with the Kims.

‘But nothing. We broke up. He was —’ your voice wobbles unexpectedly.

‘He was too good for me.’

Taehyung snorts, and his obvious incredulity makes you look up at him sharply.

‘No one is too good for you,’ he says. ‘Also, you’re with me now. If you need out just say.’

‘I can’t leave you here.’

‘Who said I’d stay?’ Taehyung asks. He shrugs. ‘The food at these things is always shit. Let’s go get pizza.’

You stare at him, aghast at his casual attitude.

‘We can’t leave, Taehyung, we need to be seen together. Extra credibility and all that. The Black and White Ball’s weeks away.’

Taehyung looks at you, dark eyes serious, patient. ‘No con is worth something that upsets you this much. You’re pale, and you look like you’re about to pass out.’

Your back straightens, and you take another gulp of champagne.

‘I’m not going to pass out on you, Taehyung,’ you say, firmly. ‘We need this and I’m not going to let us down. Besides, I know him. He’d rather eat his own arm than behave inappropriately at an event like this.’

‘Like this?’ Taehyung asks, mildly, just as his hand settles on your ass over the silk of your gown. He cups and squeezes, firm.

You stumble a little, and your grip on his arm tightens.

‘Are you wearing a bra? I think I just made your nipples hard,’ he says.

You can’t help it. The giggles burst out of you, and with them, the biggest part of your anxiety over coming face to face with Kim Namjoon.

Taehyung leans down, brushes a kiss over your parted lips.

‘That’s my girl,’ he says. ‘It’s your call. We can work the room, or we can forget this and go and get pizza.’

‘Lee Seongho is over there,’ you say. ‘Let’s get to it.’

***

Taehyung’s with a group of well-known hoteliers, whilst you’re speaking to an up-and-coming tech entrepreneur who seems to be spending more time looking down the low neck of your dress than listening to what you’re saying.

You summon what remains of your patience, look over at Taehyung again, who’s looking at you, brow raised inquiringly.

He side-eyes the tech entrepreneur, Jacques, you think his name is, with a barely hidden disdain.

You stifle a giggle and give Taehyung what you hope is a quelling look.

A moment later he’s by your side, nodding politely at your companion.

‘Apologies,’ he says. ‘My fiancee and I have a prior commitment.’

You walk away on Taehyung’s arm.

‘When did we get engaged?’ you ask.

‘I asked you to marry me when we were in Bruges,’ Taehyung says, mock-affronted. ‘How could you not remember?’

‘Why Bruges?’ you ask.

‘Because you looked so beautiful as we walked along the Zwyn,’ Taehyung says.

You’re still laughing as you round the bar and come face to face with Namjoon.

The only visible reaction he displays is a slight tightening of his jaw, only evident to you because of how well you know him.

‘Namjoon,’ you say, pleased that your voice is steady. ‘It’s lovely to see you.’

He introduces you to his companion, a very tall, stunning blonde dressed in green.

As she offers you her hand, you notice the emerald ring on her engagement finger.

Your heart jumps into your throat, and Taehyung steps in smoothly.

‘I’m Taehyung,’ he says.

You exchange niceties, the rest of the conversation is a blur but you’ve never worked so hard to not let any emotion show on your face.

Then it’s over, and you’re grateful for the warmth of Taehyung’s arm around you as he walks you away.

He leads you back to the cloakroom without you having to say a word, collects your coats, places yours around your shoulders, taking care with the buttons.

Outside the hotel, a light snow’s falling, catching in his dark hair as he hails a taxi, gives the driver instructions.

You don’t ask where you’re going.

The journey isn’t long, probably twenty minutes or so.

He holds your hand the whole time, helps you out of the taxi and into a building that is now dated but would have been stunning back when it was first built.

He pushes the door to his apartment open, flicks on the light.

It’s small but it’s warm, eclectic and so terribly him that you smile.

Taehyung says, ‘I knew the food was going to be shit.’

His tone is disgruntled on the surface, and so, so, kind underneath that you reach up and touch his cheek.

He stills under your fingers.

You run your fingertips lightly over the faint stubble over his jaw, and he sighs, leaning into your touch.

It’s more intimate than a kiss.

‘I don’t want to make you do anything you’re not ready for,’ he tells you.

Here, in his cosy apartment, you curl your hand around the nape of his neck and pull him closer to you.

‘You never have,’ you agree.

He looks like he’s about to say something else, but your lips meet his and it never gets said.

Taehyung is a consummate liar, just like you, but you sense the truth in the way he touches you.

Fingers sliding down your back, unzipping you so that your dress falls into a shining puddle on the floor.

Hands over yours when you can’t get his shirt buttons undone quickly enough.

He unbuckles his belt one handed, the other hand cupping your breast as he kisses you deeply.

His tongue licks into your mouth, and the heat of him makes you shiver in his arms.

‘C’mere,’ he says, low, turning you around, walking you into his bedroom.

The hardness of him pressing into your ass makes you arch back into him.

The sheets of his bed would be cool against your heated skin if you weren’t pulled tight against him, almost on top of him.

‘Told you I like the view like this,’ he murmurs.

You settle on top of him, his torso between your thighs.

He drinks you in with a gaze so intense you can’t meet it, choosing instead to run your hands down his bare chest.

Underneath you, his cock lies against his flat abs, so hard that when you tug his briefs off he curls his hand around himself so he doesn’t hit you in the face.

‘I’m big,’ he says, almost bashful about it.

‘Yeah,’ you agree.

You lean down and take him in your mouth, letting saliva pool around him to ease the glide.

The blunt head of him nudges the back of your throat, making you tighten around him.

He’s still watching you intently, eyes aglow as you curl your fingers around the base of him.

His lips part, and instead of the teasing comment you expected, he says, ‘I can’t believe you’re here with me, like this.’

It’s unexpectedly sweet.

You can’t answer, not with him in your mouth, but you lick along the underside of him with the flat of your tongue, guided by the way his breathing quickens, the low groan he utters as you swirl your tongue.

You taste the salt of his pre-cum, swallow like you can’t get enough, and he says, ‘Wait.’

He tugs your hand.

‘Come sit on my face.’

‘Don’t you want me to —‘

‘Hell yeah, I want it all,’ Taehyung says. ‘But we have time to do all that, any time you want. Any day you want. Come sit on my face first.’

He tugs you up, kisses up your thigh. His warm hands slide around to curl around your ass, holding you to him as he presses his open mouth to your core.

He licks at the arousal at your entrance, tongue delving in between your folds. Your eyes close involuntarily as he laps his tongue against your clit, flicking back and forth in a slow, maddening rhythm.

You’re wet, so wet, between his mouth and your own arousal.

Taehyung grunts, tugs you closer still, buries his nose and mouth between your spread legs. He licks, swallows, and your hips move involuntarily.

He hums his approval into your cunt, and your hips move again.

‘That’s it,’ you think he says, but he’s muffled, mouth and tongue working to get you off.

The heat low down in your lower belly ignites into a flame as he presses his lips to your clit, sucking, flicking with his tongue.

You realise you’ve got your hand pressed to your mouth so you don’t scream.

‘Ngh, fuck, Taehyung!’

His eyes meet yours, the intent in them so blatant you’re catapulted into your orgasm, the need for release flipping into a burst of pleasure so intense there are stars behind your closed eyelids.

Taehyung tugs you down under him, floppy like a rag doll from your release.

You can feel his hand working between your bodies, stroking himself frantically, and you part your legs.

‘Inside, fuck, inside,’ you say, your voice hoarse, husky.

Taehyung groans, positions himself at your entrance.

‘This what you want?’ he asks.

In response, you reach around his ass and pull him into you, both of you gasping as he fills you, sinks in to the hilt.

‘Move,’ you cry, but he’s already doing it, slow thrusts that fill you almost all the way, dragging himself out, panting in your ear.

This time it’s you who reaches down between your bodies, fingers spreading over where you’re joined, stroking over your clit.

Taehyung looks down, groans and shudders. ‘Fuck, you’re so hot.’

You can feel him getting harder, thicker as he moves.

‘Gonna —-‘

If he finishes his sentence you sure as hell don’t hear it because you’re coming again, pulsing around his cock as he fills you with his warmth.

He keeps moving, hips circling like he doesn’t want to stop, kissing your face, until you can feel him softening inside you.

Finally, he collapses next to you, flat on his back.

It’s a moment before either of you speak.

‘Did you mean what you said about doing this again?’ you ask.

The question hangs in the dark between you.

Taehyung rolls over onto his side to face you.

His smile is blinding.

‘I’m going to need time to recharge before we go again.’

It’s not the question you asked, and you think he knows that.

For the first time since you met him, you’re not sure how truthful he’s being, and you’re not sure you want to ask.

***

It’s been three weeks since you and Taehyung fucked, and if you’re being partially honest with yourself, things between you are the same as they always were before you fucked.

He’s still flirty and suggestive and makes you laugh.

He’s as beautiful as he ever was.

If you’re being completely truthful?

Everything’s changed.

He’d never answered your question properly, and you haven’t talked about what happened that night.

You’d woken in the morning to the lingering scent of sex and his cologne in the sheets, but he’d been gone.

You’d left too, there hadn’t been any messages on your phone and you’d felt like a stranger in his empty apartment.

You’re at a final fitting for your dress for the Black and White Ball when your phone rings.

It’s Taehyung.

‘Can I see your dress?’ he asks.

‘You’ll see it tonight,’ you remind him.

‘I’m bored, come hang out with me.’

‘I need to get ready.’

‘You could walk in there right now and still be the most beautiful person in the room,’ he coaxes.

You roll your eyes at his over the top flattery.

‘I have time for coffee,’ you say.

Taehyung ends up coming to meet you at your apartment.

‘What are you going to do after tonight?’ he asks.

You shrug. ‘I’m going to go away for a bit, see what happens. Visit my mum for Christmas, maybe. Travel. You?’

‘Same. Get out of town for a while, whilst the heat dies down. I’ve always wanted to be somewhere hot at Christmas.’

You’re distracted by a tiny scuff on the heel of the shoes you’re wearing tonight.

There’s a studied casualness to his tone when he says, ‘Costa Rica’s great this time of year.’

Your eyes meet his.

‘It’s rainy season, I heard,’ you reply.

You sense the question he hasn’t asked, but the memory of being in his bed and the uncertainty you felt floats into your head.

You need to hear him say it.

He’s still looking at you.

In the end, neither of you say anything.

Maybe it’s for the best.

***

The Black and White Ball is exactly how you envisioned it would be.

You’re on Taehyung’s arm as you walk into the ballroom. He’s wearing all black, and he looks devastatingly handsome.

You catch him staring at you, more than once.

‘Something on my face?’ you ask.

‘Just your face,’ Taehyung answers. He grins crookedly at you. ‘You’re perfect.’

You’re greeted by the Phans, an influential media family, as though you have every right to be here.

Like the two of you are legitimate members of high society instead of two confidence tricksters, two con artists about to perform the heist of the century.

Taehyung nudges you like he knows what you’re thinking.

‘Four hours, and we’ll have pulled it off. Want a lift to the airport?’

‘I always wanted to fuck in a limo,’ you say, thoughtfully.

Taehyung nods at a prominent hotelier in greeting. ‘I’m down with that,’ he whispers into your ear.

You laugh, but it’s bittersweet.

You have no idea what you and Taehyung will be after tonight, you’ve been working together and planning this for so long that you’ve only got the vaguest plan beyond it.

‘There’s a beach in Guanacaste with white sand and a horizon that feels like it stretches to the end of the world,’ Taehyung tells you.

He says, ‘I’ll be there on Christmas day with a Mai Tai.’

‘Just the one?’ you ask, teasing, smiling at the old-money contingent of elderly ladies who are beckoning you over.

Taehyung waits until you’re looking at him. ‘One for each of us,’ he says.

Then he smiles, and you don’t have time to reply before the Cousteaus are upon you, eager for someone who can speak French like you do, courtesy of your time in France when your father was working with Starck.

Taehyung helps you work the room like he always does, and if there’s an added reverence to the way he’s looking at you tonight, you can’t dwell on it now.

You both have a job to do.

It’s only when people start to leave that you turn to him again.

‘I like mojitos,’ you say.

Taehyung’s smile could light up the room. ‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah. Want to go get pizza?’

You end up in some tiny hole-in-the-wall pizza joint sharing a bottle of Merlot Taehyung took from a table as you left the ball.

It’s the best pizza you’ve ever had.

***

The blue of the Pacific will be blinding later, but just after sunrise, it’s beautiful in a way that makes your heart ache.

You turn your head as Taehyung approaches, chest bare, towel slung low round his hips.

He offers you one of the cocktails he’s carrying, and you burst out laughing as you accept.

‘It’s a little early for cocktails, Tae.’

Taehyung smiles. This close, you can see the dusting of freckles on his shoulders, the golden gleam to his skin from sunning himself.

He smells like sun, and sex, and you.

‘It’s Christmas,’ he says. ‘There are no rules.’

‘This definitely beats the cold,’ you say. ‘Merry Christmas, Tae.’

Taehyung leans back on his hands as you climb on top of him, tilting his head up for a kiss.

Underneath your tiny bikini his cock stirs, and you feel a throb of arousal even though it’s been barely hours since you last fucked.

‘Again, Tae?’ you ask, as his hands go to your hips.

‘Again,’ he agrees. ‘As long as you’ll have me.’

©hamsterclaw 2023

#bangtan christmas #bangtan christmas 2023 #taehyung fanfic #taehyung smut #bts smut #bts fanfic

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alphynix · 9 months

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Crystal Palace Field Trip Part 1: Walking With Victorian Monsters

The Crystal Palace Dinosaurs take their name from the original Crystal Palace, a glass-paned exhibition building originally constructed for a World's Fair in Hyde Park in 1851.

In 1854 the structure was relocated 14km (~9 miles) south to the newly-created Crystal Palace Park, and a collection of over 30 life-sized statues of prehistoric animals were commissioned to accompany the reopening – creating a sort of Victorian dinosaur theme park – sculpted by Benjamin Waterhouse Hawkins with consultation from paleontologist Sir Richard Owen.

The Palace building itself burned down completely in 1936, and today only the ruins of its terraces remain in the northeast of the park grounds.

The Crystal Palace building then and now Left image circa 1854 (public domain) Right image circa 2011 by Mark Ahsmann (CC BY-SA 3.0)

Six sphinx statues based on the Great Sphinx of Tanis also survive up among the Palace ruins, flanking some of the terrace staircases. They fell into serious disrepair during the latter half of the 20th century, but in 2017 they all finally got some much-needed preservation work, repairing them and restoring their original Victorian red paint jobs.

———

…But let's get to what we're really here for. Dinosaurs! (…And assorted other prehistoric beasties!)

The "Dinosaur Court" down in the south end of the park still remains to this day, displayed across several islands in a man-made lake. Over the decades they've been through multiple cycles of neglect and renovation, and are currently cared for by the London Borough of Bromley (Crystal Palace Park Trust are due to take over custodial duties in September 2023), with promotion and fundraising assistance from organizations like Historic England and the Friends of the Crystal Palace Dinosaurs charity.

Just about 170 years old now, the Crystal Palace Dinosaurs represent fifteen different types of fossil creatures known to 1850s Victorian science, with only three actual dinosaur species featured. Although often derided for being outdated and very inaccurate by modern standards, they were actually incredibly good efforts at the time, especially taking into account that the field of paleontology was still in its very early days.

They also just have a lot of charm, with toothy grins and surprisingly dynamic poses.

Unfortunately on the day I visited in early August 2023 most of the statues were heavily obscured by plant growth, both on their islands and on the sides of the paths they can usually be viewed from. Since I'd seen images from about a month ago showing things being less overgrown, this was probably just some unlucky timing on my part coinciding with some explosive summer foliage growth.

The first island on the trail features a few Permian and Triassic animals which were only known from fragmentary remains in the 1850s. These "labyrinthodonts" were recognized as having similarities to both amphibians and reptiles, and so were depicted with boxy toothy jaws, warty skin, stumpy tails, and long frog-like back legs.

Today we'd call these particular animals temnospondyl amphibians, specifically Mastodonsaurus, and we know they were actually shaped more like giant salamanders with longer flatter crocodilian-like jaws, smaller legs, and long paddle-like tails.

———

Somewhere in the foliage beyond this specific "labyrinthodont" there was also supposed to be a pair of dicynodonts, but I couldn't see much of them at all and didn't manage to get a remotely visible photograph.

Crystal Palace Dicynodon when much less overgrown Left photo by London looks (CC BY 2.0) Right photo by Loz Pycock (CC BY SA 2.0)

These Dicynodon are depicted as looking like sabre-toothed turtles complete with shells. That was fairly speculative even for the time, but considering only their weird turtle-beaked-and-walrus-tusked skulls were known it was probably the best guess Hawkins and Owen had. Today we know these animals were actually synapsids related to modern mammals, but Victorian understanding considered them to be a type of reptile.

Modern reconstructions of dicynodonts have a slightly different face shape, along with squat pig-like bodies and semi-sprawling limbs. They may have had fur, but currently the only known actual skin impressions from the genus Lystrosaurus show leathery bumpy hairless skin.

———

Next time: the Jurassic and Cretaceous sculptures!

#field trip!#crystal palace dinosaurs #retrosaurs #i love them your honor #crystal palace park #crystal palace #labyrinthodont #temnospondyl #mastodonsaurus #dicynodont #dicynodon #synapsid #paleontology #vintage paleoart #art

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bl3ss3dbyt1amat · 4 months

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misc bg3 companion hc

this is so much. i have no idea and im also sorry. all of the origin companions included under the cut

astarion:

i feel like he claps funny. like hes clapping but its that specific way thats meant to be like quieter? like clapping on the palm of his hand. this might be projection but i feel like hes also the type of person to do like a little clap or a spin or his trademark ridiculous giggle whenever hes happy.

i think that hes prone to dramatics like. like pretending to fall on the floor and die if you say hes actually not on your mind 24/7. oh whats that? you dont think im the prettiest princess in the entire world? well astarion has dramatically fallen to the floor

in the early game astarion most definitely practiced his lines loudly and publicly (in camp). he cant even see himself in the mirror but hes trying to look all suave and being like "shall i compare thee to a summers night" while lae'zel and shadowheart both shout "NO" from across the camp. (can be interpreted as bloodiedblade/wyllstarion but i think wyll would be amused and even finish the quote).

wyll:

this man is probably good with basic medicines and ill die on this hill. hes got aloe vera type shit on him at all times. sure, hes not a cleric or healer or even a bard, but he'll stay with you and try his damned best to cheer you up when youre hurt or sick.

on a related note i feel like wyll would be absolutely DELIGHTED by a bard tav. he would just be so amused and filled with whimsy. never gonna complain about playing, even if its like 2am. just occasionally putting in song requests. hes so incredibly enthusiastic like spinning tav around like "THAT WAS BRILLIANT!!!"

wyll probably keeps houseplants. (minor blazingblade but i feel like karlach would accidentally kill one of the plants and actually begin weeping. once she gets her engine fixed wyll tries to teach her how to garden. this goes weirdly) furthermore i think he like goes around his house like humming merrily and watering his plants and crap

gale:

i dont think hes coordinated at all. like this man is tripping down the stairs on a daily basis. he is dropping his tea, his book, his body, ect. to the point that hes got a habit of just hugging the railing for dear life every time he has to go down a staircase. this made traversing shit like the underdark actually literally horrible. every time he falls karlach is so overly concerned and probably offers to carry him. astarion, to everyones dismay, dies laughing each and every time

pretty sure wyll and shadowheart have a conversation about weird book porn. i am here to say that gale was holding back his power while that conversation happened. gale has read so much book porn and if you knew the real scale of it you would be concerned. tara is concerned at least.

shadowheart:

especially during early game, i feel like shadowheart was literally clenching so hard to avoid admitting cute things were cute. like "oh.. a stray mutt... charming I MEAN IN LIKE A GROSS WAY". she was trying to hard to be all scary and into shar and shit but she just really likes puppies and other animals and crap

if she were modern i feel like she would really like pixar movies (inside out comes to mind for reasons i cannot explain) and wear long jean skirts. i cant explain any of this but it is fact in my mind. even in the bg3 setting i do feel like she would wear very long boxy type skirts. sort of plays into her whole "dark priestess" sort of vibe

shadowheart was sitting in her tent with scissors fucking losing her shit with anxiety trying to cut her own bangs without a mirror. it is a literal miracle from selune that they dont look like complete and total shit. no wonder halsin was surprised. (minor silverheart/shadow'zel: when she first like actually properly noticed what shaodwheart did with her hair, since the initial joke is she cant tell what changed, i think lae'zel was very impressed. she even likened it to like a sort of war paint against shar. also we KNOW lae'zel likes silver)

(can be interpreted as bladeheart/,,, do wyll and shadowheart have a ship name yet? HM. well anyway i think that in conjunction with the previous headcanon about wyll gardening, he and shadowheart garden together and he specially grew her night orchids)

lae'zel:

ever since i looked at her stupid little mindflayer training dummie in camp ive had the image of her in my head very angrily and intensly carving up a turnip to look like a mindflayer. draws a little mean face on it like the worlds most violent six year old. every time she messes up on her little DIY project shes muttering curses in tir'su.

lae'zel will take any opportunity to infodump about githyanki culture. specifically red dragons. if she met a red dragonborn or even maybe a follower of tiamat or some shit she would be so hype. in her "i hate everyone SVAH" way ofc. but like. trying to casually slide trivia into battle conversation or party banter with all the subtlety of an owlbear. "yes... the battle preparations are proceeding as expected... as expected a red dragons hibernation cycle..." and everyone just has to turn their head and ask what the fuck shes talking abt

(can be thought of as silverweave: lae'zel and gale talk in draconic about dragon history and the celestial plane. hes so tickled to have a mutual interest with lae'zel)

no one hears lae'zel laugh but when they do its so weird. like its some weird like hissing sort of sound and everyone has to do a double take and make sure theyre understanding what the fuck is going on for a second. lae'zel is incredibly defensive when people notice it but theyre not trying to be mean

karlach:

before her engine gets fixed but like early on to where shes not used to it, karlach keeps trying to touch things and keeps breaking them. this fills her with genuine despair and she will start crying (everyone in camp has to go on a group effort to calm her down). she just thinks the world is so beautiful and is so sad she cant interact with it

she likes to dance but in like a boot stompin way. karlach is probably just an absolute party animal when she gets her freedom back because honestly in her situation who wouldnt be. SHE JUST GOT TO NOT BE ON FIRE LET THE GIRL PARTY

once shes been fixed to the point where she can touch people, she just never stops. manhandling everyone in the party constantly. oh whats that? tav is on low health? dont worry karlach is sprinting over to put tav on her shoulder. literally any problem can be solved by karlach hugs and i wont be taking feedback on this

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion bg3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 wyll #wyll ravengard #bg3 gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 shadowheart #shadowheart #bg3 lae'zel #lae'zel of k'liir #karlach bg3 #karlach cliffgate #bg3 companions #bg3 headcanons

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vinetae · 1 year

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Can I please ask for a neighbour jimin who gets intensely attracted to y/n, they flirt a lil here and there and due to a guy's visit he gets extremely possesive and claims his ownership 💦🥵

“You’re cute when you’re angry.” Your eyes lull to the back of your head at his shameless attempt.

“And you’d be really cute with this knife shoved in your thick head.” He laughs, raising an eyebrow up in questioning.

“So you think I’m cute?”

You scoff, eyes rolling. “Not in the slightest.” He hums, tilting his head before following you into your room.

“But you said really, which means that I was just cute before. So therefore, you think I’m extra cute.”

Smile - PJM

____________________

Genre: Neighbours!Jimin x Neighbors!Reader, (Ft. Love interest Taehyung)

Word Count: my guess... 12K ?

Warnings: Lying, accusations, broken friendships, cunillingus, f.masturbation, wet dreams, pinning, vaginal fingering, games under the table, exhibitionism, voyeurism, light ass play, dirty talk, hurt no comfort (I'm so sorry Tae Tae), use of the word 'faggot', cursing, harsh language, foul language. Camera play, videotaping of sexualactivities, pornographic described photos sessions. Possessive!Jimin, Yandere!Jimin, sub!reader, usage of 'wifey' terms and Y/n being a helpless damsel in distress. Y/n being innocent, and Jimin loves it lol. Jimin coerces Y/n into a nude photography shoot. Jimin is VERY VERY sneaky and charming.

A/n: this got lost in my Tumblr drafts which I don't use anymore. I'm so sorry, anon! Please forgive me 🙏🙏🙏🙏💜 I wanted to post this to remind myself to write part 2 when I get the chance. To give you guys a sneak peak I guess? I just gotta write the steamy.. 🥵

You take in a deep breath, nodding your head in assurance. “Thanks again for the help, guys! Really appreciate it.” They’re quick to ignore the comment, brushing past your shoulder quite roughly. You silently groan, rubbing at the sensitive skin before turning back around to meet their gazes.

“Total’s 120 for the three hours plus lift.” He gruffs, jotting down the amount on the piece of paper. You nod, feeling the jolt of him shoving the little slip into your grip.

“Have it paid by next Tuesday.” He turns around, picking the large toolbox up off your oak flooring before exiting. You rush over, leaning in the door to thank them once again but they don’t return the same attitude.

You huff, folding your arms at the annoyance. Blowing a piece of hair from your view, your eyes scan the loitered hallway full of your things.

Your eyes follow a dark shadow across the corridor, waving at the young man. A black ball cap covered his face, along with a darkened gray mask. His clothes had resembled ones that someone would sleep in to keep warm in the cold winter days. Black sweatpants and sweatshirt to match.

Your arm flies in the air, waving as he passes by. “Hi!”

He brushes your arm, moving past your body before walking into the doorway of his apartment.

“Hmph. Rude much..” You gruff, taking in a breath.

“Alright..” You lean down to lift the heavy box. It had been quite heavy, until suddenly the weight felt light as a feather. You lean to the side to look past the large cardboard box, seeing a young flash you a bright smile.

“Here, I’ve got it.” He adds, pushing his way past the rest of your things before turning around for guidance.

“Oh uh- just set it down in the livingroom.” He nods, placing the large box down before walking back to the hallways. Your hand catches his shoulder before he continues.

“Uhm.. who are you?”

He flashes a quick grin before lifting another box. “I’m part of the moving crew. Sorry my dad’s such a..”

“Pain in the ass?” He laughs at the joke.

“Exactly.” His hand extends out, a boxy smile plasters his expressions. “My name’s Kim Taehyung.” You nod, shaking his hand with the same enthusiasm. You take a glance down the hallway, frowning.

“Won’t you miss your ride?” He shakes his head, while hoisting two boxes into his grip.

“I drove here myself. I’m just working as a mover for the summer. Just some extra cash I can show off.” He winks before taking the boxes back into your apartment. You chuckle, watching as he makes quick work of the boxes that would’ve taken you hours to finish moving.

“Oh- How rude of me!” You yelp, running to the kitchen, peaking out from the fridge’s door to call out to him. “Would you like anything to drink?” He sets the box down, lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead. His permed fluffy, puppy-like hair had floofed up even more from Korea’s hot summers.

“Water please?” He asks. Your body freeze at the sight. Eyes trailing down the plains of his torso, watching as his six-pack tenses with each move of his joints. The lump in your throat felt as thick as a golf ball.

“Uh- yes. Of course!” You laugh it off, trying to hide the nervousness in your tone. You’re quick to make work of his water -like there was much to do anyways- before you set it on the coffee table he’d already placed down. His sweating body takes a seat on your hardwood floors, legs crossing in manner.

“Thank you” He glances up through the glass, flashing you a bright smile. You plop down onto the edge of your sectional, taking slight-

Who were you kidding?

You’re watching this Taehyung guy drink water like it’s the best telanovela you’d ever seen.

He downs the glass quickly, setting it quietly on the coffee table in front of the two of you. “Anything else I can do?” He questions, internally smirking at the way you’d been staring at his adam’s apple for the past minute or so.

You shake your head, pulling yourself from the rabbit hole of dirty thoughts. “I think that’s it.” You reach out to your purse, rummaging through the tiny folds of tightly laced fabrics before taking a glance up. “How much do I owe you?”

He smiles, pulling out his phone to calculate the total. His eyebrows knit together, watching as his face intensifies on the numbers. After a few minutes of torture, he contuines, sliding the phone back into his pocket.

“Sixty-nine dollars, or.." He eyes you up and down, lips trailing out to pad across his bottom lip. "you.”

Your eyebrow quirks at his weird statement. He shakes his head, chuckling nervously.

“No I mean- Ah fuck.. I’m not good with pick up lines, am I?” His hand reaches back to rub at the nape of his neck, acting as if he’s shying out of asking his highschool date to the prom. A few seconds go by before you get it. Your face immediately flushes.

“No- Oh my God, I’m so dumb- Sorry! My Korean’s still a little wonky, you know?”

You smile, trying to hide the embarrassment behind your laugh. He chuckles at the irony.

“But your total would be sixty-nine. Just saying.” You let out a sharp laugh, shaking your head. “No way.” He pulls his phone from the pocket of his khakis, showing the blue an black screen which indeed had sixty-nine calculated in for about an hour.

“Damn.” He chuckles, nodding. “It’s a sign, right?” His eyebrows raise, flashing a cheeky grin towards you.

“Oh, for sure~” You tease, reaching into the pouch of your purse, pulling your phone from its concealment.

“How about this? I pay you, and ask you out?” You watch as a little hue of pink flushes his round cheeks. “Ask me out? Hey, I was the one to ask first.” You laugh, nodding.

“Yeah but you sucked at it.” He pouts but eventually agrees. “Yeah.. okay fine.” He stands up, getting a little more confident. “So how about this Saturday? 8:30?” You nod, rising to meet his level. Your hand reaches out, handing him the correct amount of money, as well as your number written on the piece of paper.

“Sounds like a date.” He smiles like a little kid in a candy store before making his way quickly out the door. Before you hear the lock click, he’s quick to rush back in, using the door as support.

“Wait! What’s your name?” You giggle, leaning down to start unpacking one of your boxes.

“It’s Y/n.”

You let out a deep breath, setting the huge load of laundry down onto the floor, admiring your hard work. You’d gotten almost everything done in just a few hours, since it hadn’t been a huge apartment. Now, all you had to do was wash your clothes.

You lean down, throwing your darks in first before setting the machine’s timer.

[Error]

“What?” You groan, pressing the button again, just for the little alarm to beep at you again.

[Error]

“Ugh!” You bend down more, examining if there had been anything wrong with the machine. Once you knew it wasn’t it’s compartments, you rise back up to meet with the annoying error signal again.

“Okay.. try this again.” You inhale calmly, trying to remember your breathing techniques you’d learned from the free month of yoga you’d signed up for.

“Breeeathe, Y/n. It’s just a little-”

[Error]

“Why you piece of shi!-”

A hand comes to bang in front of your face as you fumble back at the sudden noise. Your eyes glance over to your left side, watching as the man who’d hit the machine had been reaching down to take his things out of the lower machine. He glances up, the black face mask hides any kind of emotion he might’ve shown.

“It gets stuck sometimes. Gotta hit it.” He says monotony, lifting his charcoal gray basket to his chest. You flash a quick smile, bowing.

“Thank yo-”

He was gone.

Jimin lets out a sigh, throwing the bag of laundry down onto his duvet cover. Shuffling over to the computer, plops down into his gaming chair. He slides his headset over, turning on his PC. The screen flashes a few times before loading up his game.

“Heyyyy it’s J-man!” His friends chant on the other line. He scoffs, quick to choose his gun and character.

“Yeah yeah, don’t shit your pants, alright? I’m only gonna play one round.” They all laugh at that, echoing through the mics. “Jimin and only one round?”

“Oh please, his girlfriends beg to differ!” The two boys snicker over the lines, making Jimin groan in frustration. One thing his stupid mates had said caught his ear though.

“You hear about the new girl who died in Chun-dae complex?”

“No shittt bro. Wait- Jimin isn’t that where you live?”

Jimin’s body freezes. His mic goes silent, as he calms his labored breaths. His finger hovers over the mic button before finally replying. “Yeah.” Everyone goes crazy.

“Oh shiiit. Bro do you know what happened?”

“Did you know her?

“Did you fuck her is the question, gentleman.” They all agree, waiting for his response. He groans, eyes lulling to the back of his head before pressing the T button.

“Of course I didn’t know her. It was all over the news, though. Cameraman and news channels cleaned every inch of her apartment.” They all ‘ooo’ in curiosity.

“Hah, knowing him he probably was the one to kill the poor thing.”

“Hey, Ji-bom, that's not funny. My sister knew her.”

Ji-sung scoffs over the mic before replying. “Oh yeah? Only ‘cause they were scissoring each other the night before, isn’t that right?”

“Ayoo, Ji-bom chill man.” Kwang chimes in at the banter. Jimin scoffs at his idiot teamates.

“I’m just sayin’. Fucking faggot got what she deserved, dude.”

“Alright alright that’s enough guys-”

“That’s enough, both of you.” Jin barks back at the two, silencing the chatroom.

“Thank you, hyung. Anyways, Jimin isn’t there a new girl moving into her apartment?”

“Oooo yeah. Go check her out. I heard she just moved to Korea, too.”

“Foreigner?” Jungkook chimes in.

Jimin lets out a sigh, questioning why he’s even friends with any these idiots. He picks up the mic piece, making himself as clear as he can before answering.

“I’ve already seen her.” He scoffs, spinning quietly in his chair to face the wall.

“Ain’t much.” He retorts, clicking out of the call before throwing his wireless headphones to the side.

His eyes take a glance to the organized white board decorated meticulously with red and blue strings, the woman’s face in the center had made a smirk creep up his face.

“Oh fuck-” You curse, watching as the little orange from your net rolls from the paper bags and down the stairs. You whines, setting the little bags to the floor, following the rolling fruit.

“Come back here you little-” Right before you’re able to catch the run away, a soled shoe props itself ontop of the orange. Your eyes flash up, seeing the same man from earlier towering over your figure.

“Oh- thank you..” You bow to reach the object, but he’s quicker to pick it up. The black hat had been capped over his head, revealing the flat of his glistening forehead. His milky skin gleams in the floruescent lights, as he observes your orange like an artist admiring their work of art.

“It’s gone bad.” He comments, throwing it up the stairs as you both watch it land in the space of your bag. Perfectly sitting ontop of the thin paper container.

“Wow..” You awe at his skills, turning around to thank him once more. His black mask is pulled down to reveal a set of large and cherry red lips. A smirk plasters his face.

“Why didn’t you just take the elevator?”

You take a look down, trying to remember why you had gone this was in the first place.

“I.. Don’t really remember.” He hums, leaning against the white stair railing for support.

“You’re the girl from room 13, right?” You nod, flashing him a bright smile.

“Yep! I think you’re..”

“Room 14.”

You nod sharply, sticking your hand out. His eyebrow raises at the gesture.

“Oh right.. Korea.” You cheek flush with a red tint, as you slowly go to retract your hand. However, he’s quick to take it in his grip, giving you a firm shake. His grip had pulled you closer in proximity, your body almost flushed against his completely. You could see the little twinge of gold specks peaking from his chocolate irises.

Where had your voice gone all of a sudden??

“I..I- Uhm.. My name’s Y/n.” You watch the corner of his mouth tug upwards at your stutter.

“Jimin.”

It had now been the second day of moving in. You decided to go explore the complex a bit more, wanting to know its history further than what the website had briefly explained.

Your feet click against the old marbled flooring, and echoed clatter sounds through the empty rooms. Your head swished back and forth, taking a few glances at the passing doors on your way to the elevators.

That’s odd.

You’d been told that this apartment was constantly having people coming in and out all the time, but you haven’t seen a single soul since the guy in the stairwell.

You shake your head, pulling yourself from the rabbit hole of your silly thoughts. You chalk it up to a weird coincidence. You’d moved in on a Wednesday anyways. Everyone was probably at work when you had tried greeting them.

You make your way past the set of elevator doors, pressing the button to make quick work of getting downstairs.

“Hold it!” You hear someone call out, reaching out to pause the elevator doors form shutting completely. He sighs, bowing to thank you as much as the boxes in his arms could. He sighs, taking in deep breaths.

“Ah, thank yo- Y/n?” Your head cranes to the side, seeing Taehyung’s boxy smile and permed, curly locks flowing in the elevator’s A/C.

“Taehyung? What are you doing back here?” He smiles, flashing you a thousand-watt grin. “I’m helping an ajuma switch rooms.” He leans down, lowering his voice to a hushed whisper.

“She said she hates hearing the little ghost girl running across her ceiling..” Chills spiral down your back like a mattress coil. He chuckles, hitting your back gently.

“I’m kidding! Well, I mean she did say that so.. I guess I wasn’t kidding..” He shrugs, fixing the collar of his Frank Sinatra hoodie. He continues to keep the conversation going, trying to explain himself.

“Would it help if I said she was diagnosed with schizophrenia?” Your eyebrows knit in fear. A cold rush flows through your blood.

“Not really..” He pouts, lip peeking out to quiver.

“I’m sorry.. I didn’t mean to scare you, promise!” You finally let go a bit, flashing him a slight smile.

“It’s okay.” He nods in excitement, glancing around the room awkwardly before turning back to catch your attention. “So how are you liking your new apartment?” He questions, rocking on the balls of his heels, clasping his hands behind his back. You let out a sigh, slightly nodding.

“I like it. I wish people were a little more friendly, though..” He nods, a compassionate look plastering his face. “Yeah.. it’s got a lot of old people in it, so can’t really ask for the nicest of treatments.” You sigh, nodding at the truth.

“But hey! It’s got a nice view, huh?” You giggle at his excitement, agreeing. “Indeed. And I’ve got one kinda nice neighbour?” He flashes you an adorable boxy smile. “Really? Who?”

“He said his name was like- Jimin or something.”

The whole atmosphere feezes. Taehyung’s once bouncy and energetic vibe fades, and a dark, mysterious look plasters his face.

“Y/n..” He turns to face you, taking your hand in his gently. “Promise me you’ll stay away from him, alright?” Your eyebrow knits in confusion.

“What? Why? He seemed okay.” He shakes his head quickly. “I don’t know much but- he’s got a not so nice reputation around here..” The elevator dings, as the doors slides open. He sighs, taking the boxes back into his arms before turning to give you one last piece of advise.

“Just- stay away from him.”

“Come on you freaking- Ugh!” You’d been trying for the past two hours to hook up the wifi and ethernet cables so you can watch Netflix, but you lost the instructions packet while moving your things around. You groan out, throwing the screwdriver to the side in frustration.

You rise before walking out of your apartment door, as Taehyung’s voice rings in your mind.

“He’s got a ‘not so nice’ reputation around here..”

“Just- stay away from him.”

Your head shakes the thoughts away as you ring the doorbell.

A few minutes after, the door starts to unlock, cracking open to reveal a messy haired man standing in the doorway.

“Uh- Jimin?” You ask, wondering if it had been the same man you’d see earlier. He hums, leaning on the doorframe for support. The fuzzy blanket wrapped around his small frame had made him look completely harmless.

Which only fueled your motives.

“Uh- Hi. We met in the stairway earlier and-”

“Ah yeah.” He yawns, face resembling one of a little baby puppy waking up from it’s naptime. “Y/n, right?” You nod, happy that someone had remembered who you were.

“Yes, that’s me haha. Uhm so- I was wondering if you knew anything about wifi cables?” His eyebrow raises at the question, but continues on.

“Yeah. Why?” You flash a large grin, putting on your best ‘I’m a woman, I need help, please help me’ look.

What?

It’s worked before.

“Great! I’ve just been struggling with hooking up my wifi cables to the outlet and it’s really frustrating and-” He cuts you off with a chuckle. “That’s the easiest thing setting up in the apartment.” You huff, but continue.

“Well if it’s so easy, then it won’t take you long at all.” He chuckles, arms crossing over his chest as you’d taken notice of his more aware self stealing ‘sleepy’s’ spotlight.

“What’s in it for me?” He teases, flashing a cheesy grin. You nod, trying to think of something a man would want.

Other than that..

“Uhm- I could make you dinner?” He thinks for a second, before opening the door all the way.

“Alright. Just lemme grab a shirt.”

Jimin’s eyes take a few double takes around Y/n’s apartment. The tiny couch tucked in the corner, covered in plastic wrapping and dusty blankets. The cream colored high walls stood twice his size, and really? That was the only beautiful part about living in these shitty apartments.

“So where’s the cable?” He questions, head craning a full 180 to observe the lack of decorations. She flashes a small, embarrassed grin while pointing to a separate selected room. His fingertips graze the surface of her marble countertops. Lifting his finger, he examines the light dusk bits his skin had picked up. He’s quick to wipe the dirt on the fabric of his jeans.

“You know, the landlord said that the internet cable would be in the mainroom but-”

“What the fuck..” His feet stop behind yours, observing the cramped space of your bathroom.

He watches your nails reach behind your head, scratching as you let out a small chuckle. “Yeah..”

He scoffs, eyes taut on the little internet box shoved on a low rickety shelf above the toilet. You bend down to meet his level, waiting for his next move. “Makes sense on why they knocked off a few bucks..” You laugh nervously, eyebrows knitting together in frustration.

He lets out a short chuckle, reaching around to pull the plug. He rises to his feet, arms crossing over his chest. “What a bunch of idiots..” He mumbles, sighing.

You rise as well, glancing up at his frustrated figure. “Anything I can do?” He stops running his hand through his black toussels, taking a glance at your way.

“Yeah.” He comments, bending back down to reach into his toolbag.

“Got any beer?”

You take in deep breath, knee tapping anxiously against your hardwood floors. You’d been waiting outside the bathroom for the past ten minutes. He offer to relocate the router so it wouldn’t be a future firehazard. You happily agreed, trusting his insticts.

He was the man, anyways.

Your nails had almost been cleaned right off from the tightness of your jaw nervously chewing on the poor things. Every few minutes you’d heard a sigh of frustration or mumbled curse as he’d been removing the wires from inside your walls.

“Hey, wifey,” He yelps out. You’re quick to make your way into the small bathroom.

“Need anything?” Your jaw drops at the sight. His tanned skin had glistened with a sheet of sweat, jet-black locks greased and pulled back to sit slick against the crown of his head. A few dry and perfectly good stragles make their debut on the slick of his forehead. His white shirt you’d seen his thrown on prior to coming over was drenched making the thin material completely see-through.

He gripes, rising to his feet once more. His large hands held the tiny router in one, with wire cutter in the other. He chuckles, watching your eyes blow as wide as cartoon characters.

“Might wanna close that mouth if you’re not gonna put it to good use, darling.”

That-

Didn’t help.

You’re quick to pull yourself from the train of spiral thoughts, nodding at his commentary. He lets out a short laugh, pushing the little router into your chest. You yelp a little ‘oof’, gripping onto the device.

“What.. am I gonna do with this?” You ask, watching him packing the things in his toolbag, slinging it over his shoulder before replying with a smirk.

“Replace it. Piece of crap is older than my mom's kimchi recipe.” He reaches upwards, stretching the length of his elongated spine. You silently gawk at the peak of skin underneath his shirt. He twists around, giving you a little smirk.

“Dinner ready yet?” You shake your head, pointing at the clock on the wall. He glances over, reading the time set.

6pm.

He scoffs, throwing his bag onto the floor to lean up against the edge of your little centered table.

“Besides,” You add, finally having found your voice once more. You watch one of his darkened eyebrows quirk at the comment.

“I asked you to fix it.”

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t fix it.”

He chuckles, leaning further into the table’s edge. “Can’t fix something I don’t have.”

You pout, crossing your arms to match his. “Why don’t you have it?”

“You don’t get it, do you?” He asks, leaning towards your direction to lazily tower over your figure. You back down, feeling his intense aura consume yours like a little bunny caught by the big bad wolf.

“You need a new router, the other one won’t connect to the complex’s main central.” You watch his narrowed eyes soften upon seeing your intimidated ones. He sighs, carding a hand through his greasy locks, flipping his chin up to shake the entirety of his head.

“Hardware store’s closed for today already. You can check tomorrow. If you order it online, it’ll take up to a week to have it shipped.” You huff, annoyed with the cursed thing.

His smirk toys with your aggravated posture.

“I don’t supposed you have an extra one?” You plead, flashing your most intense puppy-like eyes.He smirks, shaking his head.

“Nope, sorry, Wifey.” Your eyes flash up to meet him.

“What’s with that?” His shoulders shrug, an innocent look splays his sharp features. You groan, walking away to tug the roots of your hair in frustration. You twist around, throwing yours hands down.

“There’s NOTHING you can do?” He lifts from counter, slowly coasting his way to stalk your frame. He towers over you, a smirk plasters his features.

“There’s alot I can do. But for that?” His finger points to the little old device on the counter where you’d placed it.

“No can do.”

You take in a deep breath as he makes his way to jump onto the counter’s surface, feet swinging back and forth like a little kid. He watches your features slowly fade from hopeful to hopeless in a matter of seconds. Your eyes quicken over the area of your apartment, as if he could almost see the little gears trying to push their way to start.

After a while of pacing and panic, you’d just settled on giving into fate. “Alright.” You sigh, slowing your paces to a stop. Your eyes glance up, seeing him propping himself back on the heels of his palms, an amused smirk paints his face.

“Still up for dinner?”

“Not very wifely of you, Y/n.” He comments, stuffing a face full of the hot rice you’d ordered for him.

“I’m not trying to be wifely, Jimin.” He chuckles at that.

You’d settled for just ordering in. So here you sat, using the flat of your old couch as a backrest as the two of you sat on the hardwood floor eating sticky rice and crunchy chicken you’d gotten from the place across from your apartment.

“I like that.” Your head cranes, giving him a questioning look.

“Like what?”

He grins, taking another bite of his largely portioned rice bowl.

“When you say my name.”

You chuckle, clicking the remote to find something to entertain this kind of awkward situation. You feel him shift a bit, crossing his legs to get into a more relaxed position.

“So,” he starts, digging in the little to-go box for the last of his rice. His voice strings with casualty and familiarity which he laced to ease this into a more comfortable atmosphere for the both of you.

“Why this shithole?” You chuckle, reflecting back on the selection process you’d forced yourself to go through.

“It was kind of an emergency situation. I wanted to come here for animation and graphic designs.. But, I had to move out quickly.” His eyebrow quirks at the questioning sentence.

“Why?”

You sigh, fingertip grazes over the ridges of your hardwood floor. Should you really be letting an almost stranger know so much about your personal affairs?

Well, you two were neighbors now.

“Stuff just got too complicated in my house.” He nods, not wanting to pry on more of the obvious still fresh wound. His throat clears, as he begins clearing your table of the plastic wrappers and trash.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I got kicked from my own house.” You chuckle, head turning to face him. “Really? What could you possibly have done?” He laughs, leaning back against the couch’s front.

“What? Don’t think I’d get into trouble?” Your head shakes at his question. “Frankly, you look like a cinnamon roll.” He chuckles, taking a sip of his soju.

“Oh really?” He leans in further, the pad of his lips brushes your ear’s shell. Hot breaths roll past your heating cheeks. His voice is low and sensual now.

“I mean- you just like blacks, right?” He chuckles at that. He reaches out, ruffling your hair between his fingers.

“You’re cute.”

“Oh fuck..” He moans out, hand palming himself over the clad of his boxer-briefs. His body, slung forward, propped up to leave the back of his chair lonely and cold. His chin tilts upwards, eyes focused on the bright of his screen.

“Mmmm just like that, baby” He groans, free hand gripping the edge of his chair, knuckles hueing to a white tint at the pressure. He watches the woman drop the fabrics of her remaining clothing items. Her pink, basic underwear slipped from the waist of her tight skin.

“Yeahhh” His heavy moans pant at the sight of the beautiful woman exposing herself for the camera. His palm wrapped around the base, a slow pace up and down the length of his throbbing cock. His sweaty bangs come to fly forward before sticking to the damped of his forehead. His mouth stifles sounds that would be a one-way ticket to hell.

Oh, how he wished she'd caress her breasts.

His eyes focus on the way her hair falls out of its messy bun to cascade down the beautiful plains of her back. A small, cursive tattoo sits atop the nape of her neck. The little decoration only furthers him deeper into his state of temporary euphoria.

The soap slides down her body, grime and grease being removed from even the most difficult crevasse. Suds and white foam paint a thin sheet over the bare of her entire frame. His hips slightly raise out of control at the sight. The red and angered tip of his cock leaks a thick string of pre-cum from his slit.

Her hand reaches out to steady herself, making sure she doesn’t slip from the sudsy shower floor. Her long, manicured nails made him wish she’d ruin his back with them. Red scratches running up along the plains of his shoulder blades only edged him on further.

His balls tighten, warning him of his nearing end. He groans out, leaning back against his gaming chair as he lifts a leg to prop up on the desk, showing the invisible camera on his computer all of his lengthy and girthy glory. After a few minutes of slowed strokes, his balls ached with pain.

He loved it.

His hand wrapped around his cock picks up the pace. Body practically leaping from his seat.

“Fuck!” He moans out, lips dropping to form an O-shape as a string of hot cum shoots onto the towel that he’d held to his tip right before blowing his load.

He clicks a few buttons, watching as the camera zooms in at the perfect time. She’d finished up, exiting the shower to wrap a warm and fuzzy looking lengthy towel around her fitted body. The steam had fogged the glass mirror above the sink, but the camera still stood clear as fresh water.

The cameraman had cleverly sprung for the fog-avoidant cameras.

He, being the cameraman..

You reach over, answering the incoming call that had rung for the past few seconds. You hug the portion of your towel to your body, clinging it as to not accidentally flash a single soul. An all-too-cheery voice answers.

“Y/n! So, I was thinking- We never really decided on a place to eat at.” He pouts, a teasing tone peaks his expressions. Even though you couldn’t see him, you could see the child-like boxy smile he’d always sport.

You decide to have a little fun with your new found friend. “I’m sorry- Who’s this?” You could hear the hurt in his voice.

“It’s Taehyung.. Already forgot about me, huh?” You giggle, throwing the phone onto your bed after pressing the speaker button.

“I’m playing with you Taehyung.” He huffs. “Not very funny of a joke, ma’am.” He retorts, making you snicker at the nickname.

“You’re right, you’re right. I’m sorry Taehyung-ie. How about I make it up to you?” His voice cheers up quickly, amusement peaking his interests.

“And how would you do that, milady?” His voice sports a gentleman-y, british accent as if he’d been just brought out of a shakespeare play.

You throw on a quick T-shirt before sprawling out on your bed. “Well, how about coming over tonight? I could make us some coffees.. Or I’ve got wine too.” He sucks in a breath, a saddened tone controls his voice.

“Sorry, can’t tonight. Dad’s got me working extra hours all over Seoul, I’m not even home yet.” You pout, toying with your little anxiety ring you’d gotten from a friend back home.

“Oh, okay then.” You’re quick to flip over, getting into a more comfortable position on your back. You stare up at the ceiling while talking with your only friend.

“So, how is work?” Before you get a response you hear a loud crash on the other end.

“Shit- I have to go, Y/n. Bye!”

“Oh oka-”

He ends the call.

You sigh, rolling back and forth on the surface of your bed. You’d still been on Chicago’s clock, so you were wide awake right now. Your eyes roll at the time blinking on your nightstand’s alarm clock.

12:39AM.

You needed to get to sleep. You KNEW you needed to get to sleep. But, your body had different plans. You decide to roll yourself out of bed, making your way to the little walk in closet right before the front door. You slide on your little fuzzy boots and a pair of sweatpants before walking out the door.

“Oh!” You turn around, seeing Jimin leaning outside of his front door to drop off the trash in the hallway. You run up, catching him before he has the chance to slip back into his dungeon.

“Hey-” You call, flashing him a warm smile.

He slams the door in your face.

Your frown reappears, sighing.

What was everyone’s problem with you?

You were about to continue on your journey for late night convenient store snacks, but something inside of you had irked to get a hi from him still. So, you knock on his door.

No answer.

“Come on, Jimin. I know you’re in there!” You call out, banging on his door now. After a few minutes and a rude comment from a neighbor telling you in a very passive way to ‘shut up’ he’d finally opened the door. You push right through, hands on your hips to signal off confidence.

“Y/n what do you-”

“Why didn’t you say hello back?” He shakes his head, not following.

“What do you mean-”

“I just said hi to you, and you slammed the door in my face!” He chuckles, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“I just woke up.” Somehow, you don’t believe that.

Your stupid self decides to rummage through his things.

“Oh really?” You walk yourself over to his desk and gaming chair, feeling the monitor’s heat. “Hmm, computer’s still warm.” You comment, accidentally bumping the mouse with your wrist. The screen lights up, as your face drains with color.

A bunch of women barely dressed on a leopard-print bed, hands rubbing and touching all over each other while some had fully been going down on one another.

You could hear a dark chuckle in Jimin’s voice. A body comes up behind yours, towering your frame from backing.

“Caught me.” He whispers,fingertips trailing up the skin of your arms. You flinch, backing away from his touches as he lets out a laugh. “What? Aw, I’m just having a little fun with you.” He flashes you a cheeky wink as you try and calm your beating heart.

“I– Sorry. I-I’ll just leave now-” He chuckles, opening the door wide. As you make your way through the exit, he leaves a few words to trail in your ears.

For the past few days you’d been bickering with Taehyung over where to go. Since you both were in moving saving mode, you decided to just cook up a nice dinner and watch a movie instead.

You’re almost done putting the final touches on the dessert pie until you heard the doorbell ring. Walking past, you reach down to fluff a few pillows on your couch before answering. You crack the door open, a wide smile plastered onto your face until you’d seen who was behind it.

“You..” He chuckles.

“Me.”

Franky you’d been avoiding Jimin for the past two days. Ever since your jet-lagged brain decided it was a good idea to march into his apartment and check out his browsing history, things had been pretty awkward between the two of you.

Well, just for you.

“I’ve got something.” He teases, holding his hands behind his back. You nod, keeping him outside of the door. “Uhm can it wait ‘til later? I’m kinda busy..” He pushes past your shoulders before you could even protest.

“Payback, wifey.” A smirk tugs the corner of his lips as he holds out the tiny box on front of you.

“Take a guess.”

You sigh, shrugging. “I don’t know.”

“That’s the whole point of taking a guess. You’re really bad at this game.” He chuckles, swinging the little box in his grasp.

“I don’t know, Jimin.” He groans, pouting. “You’re no fun.” He unboxes the object, holding it out to show you.

“I still don’t get what it is.” He shakes his head, obviously annoyed by your adituttde.

“Fine, then I guess you don’t need the router.” Your eyes widen.

“Wait!” You reach out to pause his actions, making him smirk. “Oh now you answer me.” He chuckles, setting the little device on your kitchen counter.

His eyes take a glance to the kitchen table, feasting upon the delicious, mouth-watering platters and bowls filled with some of his favorites.

“Ah, good! You remembered our deal.” Your eyes look at the food, then back to him to quickly shake your head.

“Uh no- actually-”

Ding.

Dong.

Jimin’s eyebrow quirks at the revealment of the guy behind your apartment door. Taehyung’s bright and boxy smile soon drops as his eyes land upon the strange man in your livingroom. The newly dyed locks tinted with colors of the sky had shifted from their styled position.

“Who’s this?” Taehyung comments, questioning the new man. Jimin’s lips tug more into a smirk at his confusion.

“Her cousin.” Jimin retorts, watching as you flash him a ‘what?!’ look. Taehyung’s eyebrows knit in confusion as Jimin’s quick to correct himself with a light chuckle.

“Distant.”

You let out a nervous chuckle at his words.

Shit.

The dinner table felt like a couffin. Suffocating and awkwardly tight. Hadn’t helped that your little circular table could barely fit two people, much less three.You had tried to kick him out, really you did. But he had been too stubborn, pulling up his own make shift seat of your lidded trash can to support on. The smug and tight grin on Jimin’s lips had made your jaw clench with annoyance. Taehyung’s quick to clear the thick air, along with his throat.

“So, Y/n. How do you feel about sea animals?” He smiles, trying to ignore the elephant in the room.

Your mouth falls open to answer, but the slick circles drawn against your thigh halts you.. You take a glance over, Jimin on the sidelines taking a large bite of his pork and rice, completely unfazed by the situation. The tense of his right arm doesn’t go unnoticed by you. His hand slipped up the space of your dress, caressing your knee before rising his touch higher.

Your eyes flash back to Taehyung’s who had a questioning look. You let out a loud chuckle, trying to shift your leg away from Jimin’s fingers as your answer.

“Love ‘em.” You flash him a quick smile. He returns the little expression, a relaxed ease sets upon him.

You? Not so much.

“Well what about getting a little wet?” Taehyung quirks, leaning a little closer to make his voice clear.

Jimin’s fork swirls around the surface of his plate, a bored expression plasters his features as he cuts in. “Easy.” You feel the tips of his fingers drag along the heat of your skin, resting on the outers of your underwear. His index finger presses slightly against your soaking panties, your lips fall to form a small O-shape. Thighs squeezing together at the sensation.

“I don’t think she minds getting wet.” Jimin comments, an unamused expression toys his features as he takes a sip of his soju. You nod, shifting slightly in your seat, which in turn had made Jimin’s touch fall further in the gap of your thighs. His fingertips tease your clothed heat, a silent moan rumbles from the deep of your chest.

“Perfect!” He turns his reach into his pocket, pulling out two pieces of thick paper. “The new aquarium in Incheon just opened. I was hoping you and I could maybe go tomorrow?” You nod, trying your best to stay silent. Jimin’s touch lingers on the outerparts of your heat, silently commanding you to beg him.

You weren’t.

Your grin follows the sweet tone in your voice you’d forced yourself to keep, even though everything in your body had been screaming to do quite the opposite.

“So Taehyung,” Jimin comments, sliding the fabrics of your underwear to the side, carding one finger through your slick folds teasingly. Taehyung’s head tilts, smiling friendly even though he’d been quite disappointed in Jimin’s unannounced presence.

“Yeah?” He questions. Jimin shifts, crossing one leg over the other to make himself appear smaller.

Though, his actions had been quite the opposite.

“How’d you two lovebirds meet?” He asks, quietly catching the way your chest tightens as his finger teases your entrance, coating the digit in your juices. A smirk presses his lips.

Taehyung chuckles, a shy glance directed to you. “Well, here actually.” Jimin faints a forced interested look, nodding at the stupid interaction.

“Yeah, my dad had hired me for his moving service for the summer before I go back to college so I could make some more money. I had helped her move in, then shot my shot.” You fight back a moan, letting out a sharp breath as he inserted the length of his finger past your velvet walls. Your hands reach out, one catching on Jimin’s forearm to steady yourself. Silently begging for him to stop so you could enjoy your date with Taehyung.

Jimin nods, almost making your loose it when his finger starts to pump in and out of you at a teasingly slow rate. His eyes narrowed, getting bored with Taehyung’s little story.

“Hah, how funny.”Though his words matched his features, his tone had not. A cold and hardly-entertained looks paces his face.

Taehyung mentally groans at Jimin’s pulsing bicep. He stands, pushing hismelf away from the table with force. You startle, eyebrows meeting in concern.

“Taehyung what’s-”

“You know, it’s kind of common courtesy not to let your neighbor finger fuck you while you’re on a date with another guy.” Jimin smirks at his words, releasing you in his grip, watching as you rise to meet Taehyung’s level.

“Y-You kne-”

"Of course I fucking knew, Y/n. I helped him install his gaming setup when he moved in.” Your head cranes to Jimin, seeing the cocky grin upon his features. Turning back, your eyes meet Taehyung’s. His burned with anger and fury.

“Taehyung I’m so sorry-” He chuckles, scoffing with a harsh tone.

“My thing isn’t that he was groping you on our date, Y/n. It’s the fact that you lied to me.” Your heart aches at his words. Your feet close the space between you and him, but he backs away.

“Don’t, Y/n. And you.” His eyes narrow to Jimin who’d shifted to your seat to lean back. Leg crossed over the other, while his shiny finger had been popped into the crease of his mouth. Taehyung’s hands fist at the sight.

“Dick move, Jimin.”

With that, Taehyung storms out. You tried following him down the hall, but he had been too fast for your7-inch heels to catch up with. You let out a silently breath, leaning up against your front door.

Your eyes land crack open to land upon Jimin’s laxed figure. He’d risen to lean up against the back of your couch, arms crossing his chest. He shakes his head, smirking.

“Not cool, Y/n.” Your fists clench at his cocky tone.

“Get out.” You command, swinging the door open to lead him. He shakes his head, making his way to the door, walking out.

“Over here!” You wave, signaling your location through this messy crowd. He makes a beeline to your table before sitting down quietly. A silence had drawn out for far too long. You take notice in the tanned, unusual overcoat he’d thrown over his white button up and navy blue suit pants. Black loafers to compliment his whole attire.

“Thanks for meeting with me..” You let out a deep breath, trying to break the awkward silence between the two of you. He nods, eyes glancing around the restaurant to look anywhere but your pleading self.

“You’ve got a probem with lying, Y/n.” He comments coldly. You could do nothing but nod, agreeing with his harsh but true words.

‘I know.. Taehyung I’m so sorry for lying to you.” You lean forwards, trying to catch his gaze. He’d done a pretty good job of ignoring you for the past few weeks. 27 missed calls and 14 text messages later, he’d finally caved in and agreed to meet you at the little cafe you’d originally planned to meet at for your first date.

His arms fold across his chest,, leaning back to entertain your guilt. “Go on.”

Your fingers clench around the mug, toying with the warmed handle from the hot joe inside. “I shouldn’t have lied to you about him being my cousin. It was stupid, anyways.” You let out a short chuckle, feeling the atmosphere soften just a bit.

“Indeed.” He still holds onto his firm and upset composure. You push the basket of break rolls to his side, a silent peace offering sits in front of him.

“I do like you, Taehyung. You’re really sweet, and kind and always so considerate of others-” He chuckles, scoffing at your generic sayings.

“Sounds more like a breakup rehearsal than an apology.” You nod, hitting your head at the stupid comments.

“What I’m getting at is; I never should’ve let Jimin do any of that. He was honestly just there to replace my wifi router, swear!” He leans forward, studying your features for any sign of a lie. When he finds none, he returns to his slouched posture taking a sip from his wine glass he’d ordered.

“Then why did you?” His question throws you off.

Why did you let him touch you like that? Get away with it…

Let it go so far.

Taehyung scoffs at your silence. His feet shift, eyebrows raised with sarcasm. His tone lowers, mumbling into the bottom of his wine glass. “Silence of the lamb.”

You sigh, banging your head gently onto the tale before raising up. He takes pity on yourself, deciding to ease you.

“Do you like him?” Your head shakes.

“Liar.”

“I’m not lying!”

“Then tell me,” He leans closer, closing the large, table-sized gap between the two of you.

"Would you have let me do that then?” Your pussy clenches at the thought, Taehyung’s slender fingers thrusting themselves deep against your slick walls, hand cupped over your mouth to shut you up from the ears of others.

Your lips fall flat. Eyes looking at Taehyung, imaging him doing all of those things,

Yet, when you’re thinking of moaning his name, all you can hear is..

“Jimin.” He states coldly, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. If green was jealousy’s color, he’d been a fucking broccoli stalk.

You shake your head, flushing the stupid thoughts from your mind. Your hand reaches out, eyes shading darker to his narrowed ones. You lean closer, brushes of hot air roll past his cheek onto the shell of his ear.

“I want you.”

His dark chuckle stripes the atmosphere from the sexy and alluring scene you’d tried to play. He toys back, giving barely any attention to your neediness.

“Oh really?” You nod, hand reaching down to palm at the forming tent between his thighs. His lips roll out a soft grunt at the touch.

“How much.” He demands, warm hands coming to rub on the balls of your knees. Your lips brush the outer of his reddened ear, tongue poking the sensitive. You moan, sending the thin skin vibrating in waves.

“So badly.”

“Oh fuck-” You moan out, hands gripping onto the skin of his back for a false safety. Nails digging and scratching at the rededened the bare complexion. Your tongue grazes his lips, before he takes you in his reach to swallow yourself whole. Hands roaming each other like wild animals in some kind of feral heat. The headboard claps against the wall’s poor dimensions, securing the dents and markings that were sure to follow tomorrow’s awakening. His voice deepens with each passing, passionate second.

“Shit!” His lips fall to a large O-shape, uncontrollably snapping his hips into yours. His large frame towers over yours, leaning down to plant heavily sloppy kisses to the base of your neck.

“Mmm, gonna cum-” His raspy voice thickens, becoming easily weary of his nearing climax. You could feel the way his throbbing cock pulses in the depths of you, as yourself had been efforting the same pulse around his meaty cock.

“Oh God-” You head falls back, arms catching yourself onto his neck to make sure you remain unscathed. Your legs wrapped around his waist, sucking his girth into yourself to your limit. His large banded arms coil around your smaller frame, pulling your body flushed against his. A few gruff and loud moans here to there, shared between the two of you. Soon, you’d felt the rushing wave of pure ecstasy coarse through your frame. His sweaty form drops onto the length of you, heavy pants exile his chest from the intense session. You glance down, seeing the blonde and greasy locks blocking his features.

“Jimin!?”

Your body jolts itself awake, propping up like a doll with a metal pole as its spine. Your chest heaves with heaviness and anxiety as shock flushes your system from its previous ecstatic state. You find your hand slunk down into the space of your mini shorts, fingers pressed against your aching bud. Memories from the day’s events had coarse your mind like a taunting, awaiting jack-in-the-box.

He pushes your body away from his own, hands releasing the tight grip you’d formed around his hardened length. Your frame falls backwards, catching itself right before impact. He stands, a furious aura surrounds his whole once bright and soft figure.

“Good-bye, Y/n.”

You groan, rolling over to reach for the pillow, suffocating yourself with the plush object. You head spins with uncertainty. You felt like shit.

Your feet land on the floor, guiding you unconsciously to the self-indulgent kitchen you’d stocked. The darkness that floods your apartment had been good for keeping to yourself, not having to worry about anything else you had to get done, until you wake up for work in a few hours.

“Morning.” A sudden voice becks out from the silence. You’re quick to land your grip on a steak knife from the counter, waving it blindly in the abyss for protection. His chuckle makes your heaty drop into your stomach.

“Put that away before you hurt yourself, wifey.” You groan, tossing the sharp object into the sink, reaching out to find the light switch. His cocky smile makes your teeth grind with frustration.

“How the hell did you get into my apartment?” You scoff, watching as he points his index finger to the wide open door.

“You left it unlocked.” Your arms cross, a narrowing look paints your tired and gaunt features. His wide and torturous smile makes your stomach bubble.

“Enjoy your sleep?” He questions, reaching over to put the bowl of cereal he’d made himself into the left side of your sink.

“Did, until you came.” He chuckles, stalking your figure before he’s standing right infront of you. “Really? Cause it looked like you were wide awake before I even got here.” Scoffing, you push at his chest making him stumble back a bit to catch himself.

“Go home, Jimin.” You make your way to the fridge to place the milk back on the shelf. He follows, hoping up onto your counter like a kid.

“Don’t wanna.” You huff, slamming the cabinet.

“Go. Home.” You repeat, already tired of his shinannigains. He leans closer, meeting your gaze.

“I. Don’t. Want. To.”

“Wasn’t. A. Question.” You retort, making him smirk.

“You’re cute when you’re angry.” Your eyes lull to the back of your head at his shameless attempt.

“And you’d be really cute with this knife shoved in your thick head.” He laughs, raising an eyebrow up in questioning.

“So you think I’m cute?”

You scoff, eyes rolling. “Not in the slightest.” He hums, tilting his head before following you into your room.

“But you said really, which means that I was just cute before. So therefore, you think I’m cute.” You plop down on your bed, body feeling extremely heavy from your sleep-deprived state.

“Not listening, I’m sleeping.” He chuckles, scooting his way over to your side of the bed to lay next to you. His arm rests under his head for support.

A few moments of silence flows by before he continues. “Didn’t know you were such a daredevil.” You sit up, giving him a stern look.

“I’m not.”

He chuckles, shrugging. “Really? Cause letting a stranger finger you while you’re on a date sure sounds like something a daredevil would do.” Your eyes roll, pushing his frame away with the soles of your feet.

“Get out of here, Jimin. Why did you even come in the first place?” He smirks, walking around to the side of your bed, kneeling in front of your pillow cover face that’d been hanging off your bed’s edge.

“Why, I heard my name of course.” Your eyebrow quirks at his words. “Oh yeah? Who called you.”

A devilish grin toys the corner of his lips. He lowers his voice to a deep tone, much like the one you’d heard earlier in your little escapade-like dream.

“You did.” You let out a sharp chuckle. “Me?” He nods, making the fits of laughters wash in waves even more. Once you’ve settled down, you can clear the air.

“Hate to break it to ya loverboy, but I was sleeping if you couldn’t already tell.”

He lowers himself to meet your level once more. Hands slid into the fronts of his jean pockets, blonde locks falling to the sides of his face to frame his features perfectly.

“I’m aware.”

Your eyes narrow, not following in his little innuendos. He reads your expression, and decided to elaborate some more.

“Well, these were more along the lines of ‘Jimin’.” He mocks a woman high-pitched moan, head thrown back to add a dramatically erotic effect.

“Yeah right, like I did anything like tha-”

“Oh Jimin! Oh fuck ah- Mmm, gonna cum!..” Your eyes widen like saucers at the little sounds. Eyes training upon the little cellphone held in his hands, showing you the recorded melody. His smirk never faulters from amusement of you.

“You were saying?”

Your body froze. That had for sure been your voice. Hell, it even showed a sliver of your bedroom for a second. You had been sprawled out on your bed, covers thrown off as your hand had been stuffed into the lining of your underwear. Thighs trembling to signal your nearing climax.

You. Were. Mortified.

“I- Well that- My dog-” The longer you’d tried to come up with an excuse, the stupider you sounded. He chuckles, tilting his head back while holding his stomach.

“Your dog?” His eyes well into little crescent shaped moons, irises disappearing from sight.

“The only bitch in heat my dear, is you.” You groan, reminding yourself later to go jump off Seoul’s largest bridge.

“I called out your name,” He starts, sitting on the edge of the bed to slide his phone back into his pocket. He chuckles, remembering your sleep-induced reaction.

“But you just got louder.” You grab the nearest pillow and start suffocating yourself. He laughs, prying the beautiful death away from your grasp.

“Hey, you saw my porn collection.” He teases, poking at your side to try and get you to laugh this off like friends would.

“Yeah, but it’s not me!” His body stiffens at the words. Lowering his tone, he mumbles.

“It might.”

You sigh, wanting the earth to swallow you whole. You take the pillow from his grip, digging your face into the soft plush once more. “Just let me die.” He smiles, tugging the pillow from you once more.

“Nah, I’m not into that necrophilia shit.” You huff, pulling your knees up to hide your face in. He leans closer, brushing a few strands of hair from your vision.

“Guess this means we’re even now, huh?” You chuckle along with him, cheeks still burning with embarrassment.

“Was quite a unique sight.” He sighs, taking the pillow to tuck it under his clasped arms. Leaning back, he supports his weight against your headboard while continuing.

“Never seen a girl masturbate to me.” You scoff, not believing that for a damn second. “Yeah right.” His torso twists to face you, giggling.

“It’s true.”

“No girlfriend?”

He shakes his head. “They just wanted sex. Nothing else.” You shift, not really knowing what to respond to that.

“They also thought I was weird..” Your head cranes, tilting to listen better. “Why?”

His hands fidget between the thick of his thighs, shrugging. “I liked taking photos.” You smile, laughing.

“Everybody does. Photography’s a very popular hobby nowadays-”

“Of them.”

“Well yeah, you like to remember the fun times you had with loved ones-”

“Naked.”

Yeah, you had no counter for that one.

He chuckles, a tint of red flushes his cheeks. “See? You think it’s weird too.” Your head hesitantly shakes, denying it.

“No- It’s just- I wasn’t expecting it.” He sighs, leaning his head back against your headboard. “I just think that women’s bodies are exquisite.” You chuckle, nudging his arm.

“Large word for a small guy.” His eyes flash towards yours, suddenly not so bright eyed and puppy-like.

“Think I’m small?”

You nod. “You’re not that big of a guy. Taehyung’s much larger-” He’s quiet to flip you on your stomach, sitting atop your lower back while holding your arm behind yourself.

“Can still do this, though.” He smirks.

“Yah! Get off me!” He chuckles, leaning down to brush the pads of his lips to your skin, ghosting your heated body.

“No.”

“Yaaaah Jimin, my baaack!” You groan, muffling your noises into the pillow below you. A smile creeps his lips, before he’s rising off from you. You groan, sitting up to speak.

“Yah, that really hurt du- Jimin?” As quick as he’d left, he’s right back at the end of your bed, This time, sporting an old polaroid in his right hand. Your eyebrows raise in confusion.

“What’s that for?” He smirks, edging himself closer to you on the bed. His proximity makes you fall back onto the bed as he towers your frame, camera still firmly held in his hands.

“Mind being my model?” You laugh, hands pressing at his chest as he leans back to sit atop your lap.

“For?”

His eyes glance up, taking a peak from filling his camera with film. His blonde locks fall loosely infront of his vision, making the scene so much more intense.

“Me.”

“Well of course you, idiot.” He smiles, wiping the camera lens with the thin of his black T-shirt, lifting the material up to give you a little peak of his softly defined abs.

“I don’t need you jacking off to them.” He quirks, taking a glance to look back up to you. “You jacked off to me.” Your mouth falls to answer, but then shuts. He smirks, taking your silence as a win.

“Just lift your top a bit.” He teases, holding the camera up to his face, peaking out the little lens. You laugh, bucking your hips up to try and nudge him off of your small frame.

“Oh come on, Y/n. I feel violated.” He pouts, lip-quivering in a fake pained expression.

“What? How so.” He whines, shifting on your lap like a little kid.

“You violated my privacy. Barged into my apartment, and went through my laptop. Sexual harassment at it’s finest.” You scoff, eyes rolling at his stupid reasoning.

“Your laptop was already on. And I’ve never sexually harassed you. If anything, that shit you pulled at the dinner table was sexual harassment.” He smiles, using his free finger to tilt your head to the side, getting a better angle.

“Part your lips.”

“Jimin I’m not doing this.”

“Open your mouth or I’m gonna tie you to this bed and slip a vibrator into your panties. And take pictures of that instead.” Your eyes widen at his choice of words, suddenly feeling the room heat from his proximate figure sat atop you.

He smirks, moving a few strands from your vision, while positioning your hair a bit to get a nice shot. Your mouth had opened slightly from shock, which he took as a chance to snap a little picture.

“Got it.” He smiles, hiding the little sheet of film under the nearest pillow.

“I’m pretty sure this is sexual harassment.”

He chuckles, reloading for another shot. “Not harassment if you’re enjoying it.”

“Now who made up that rule?” A devilish smile crack his straightened lips.

“I did.”

He reaches down, flashing you to the little polaroid picture from a few seconds ago.

“Wow..” You gawk, admiring the beautiful position he’d moved you to. Pieces of your messy hair falls into your forehead, framing your face perfectly. The lack of light plus his flash had made this simple photo look like a work of art.

“Natural beauty.” He picks up the camera once more, pulling the picture away to get another shot.

“Okay you’ve had your fu-”

“I think you’d look better tied up.” He giggles, scooting off of your body to sit on the side. He stands, walking to your closet to rummage through your things.

“Hey, I didn’t give you-”

“Perfect!” He holds out a silky tie that you’d forgotten to give back to your ex. The silky red material dangles loosely in his grip as he makes his way over to set himself next to your laid out figure.

“Hands?”

Your arms reach out, giving full access to whatever he wanted of you. The motion makes him smile, patting your head.

“Good girl.”

“Jimin it’s almost morning-” His eyes glance towards you, previously focused on binding your hands together. “So?”

“So- I need you to let me up.” He chuckles, motioning down to your figure.

“I’m not holding you down.”

He’s right. You’d been giving him permission to do all of this. You were the one who didn’t want it to secretly end.

He reaches up, loosely tying your hands above your head to bind them to your grid headboard. He picks up his camera from off the side once more, holding it up to his face to angle it down your way.

“Smile for me.” You shake your head, not being in the mood.

“Smile.”

He reaches down, tickling at your side torturously. Your head throws back, mouth popping wide open at the giddy sensation. One flash of his camera later, he throws the little old device to the side.

“You’ve got an adorable smile.” He coos, hovering over your locked in figure. A rosy tint paints your cheeks.

“Thanks..”

His lips lower, bushing the soft skin of your forehead before dragging the back down a bit, mumbling something sweet.

“Mine.”

The smell of freshly baked bread waffs through your apartment. Your counters had been filled with sweet and gooey treats. Your whole upperhalf had been dusted heavily with flour and egg whites. Though it had taken almost 5 hours, you’d finally baked all of the necessary goodies you needed.

You walk yourself through all of the desserts, making sure you hadn’t missed a single thing. “Pudding, cherry pie, hotteoks, creme brulee..” You sigh in satisfaction, admiring all of your hard work.

You glance down, seeing your messy and caked in self. A chuckle exiles past your lips. Making your way to the bathroom, you’d just taken off your sweater before hearing the doorbell sound off.

Walking over, you try fixing your hair best as you could before opening the door.

“Welcome.” You swing the door wide, allowing the man to enter.

“Thank you.” He takes in a deep breath, sighing at the delectable aroma. You take his coat, hanging it on the rack before leading him to the dining table.

“Smells amazing.” You smile, silently patting yourself on the back for his commentary.

“This way. I- Didn’t know what you preferred, so I just made all of them..?” He chuckles, making his way through your living room to sit upon the balcony’s patio. You’re quick to bring the treats out, only taking two round trips before settling yourself in the seat across from him. His dark button up, and white, creamish dress pants had made him look even more elegant than ever.

“So, how's the progress going?” He questions, as you sigh in relief.

‘It’s going great. The product’s development is really coming along. I could even move the release date up a month.” He smiles, watching as your delicate hands cut a few slices of the pie for the two of you. His large hand comes to cover yours, stopping your motions gently.

“Y/n.. You didn’t have to make all of this. I would’ve been fine with cough drops for all I care.” You giggle, shaking your head.

“You’ve been a huge stepping stone in getting my stuff out there… I owe you.” He smiles, his face coming to close the distance between the two of you. His breath mixes with your own, a different kind of feeling settles over the scene.

His voice lowers, but a bare whisper. “Y/n..”

A brightly lit flash of light separates the two of you quickly. “Annnddd, got it. See Y/n? Told you you’re photogenic.” Jimin’s face scrunches at the picture. “Mmm, you bro? Not so much.”

“Jimin!” You gripe, standing to push him out of your apartment.

“What? Just trying to capture nature’s beauties.” He leans to the side, sending your co-worker a narrowed glance. “And.. uglies.”

“Jimin, I’m in the middle of something!” Your voice lowered so he couldn’t hear. A deep chuckle exiles his chest. A hand places itself upon your shoulder, making Jimin’s fist clench in silent anger. The man’s hand extends outwards, offering Jimin a passive shake.

“I’m Namjoon.” Jimin smirks, taking his hand in a firm shake.

“Nice to meet you.” You sigh, rubbing your temples from frustration.

“Jimin could you please just leave? I’ve got to discuss some things with Namjoon.” Jimin huffs silently, quirking his eyebrows.

“Nah, Think I’ll stay.” He plops onto your couch, crossing one leg over the other in a relaxed position. You were about to protest but a beep cuts you off.

“Ah, sorry Y/n. It’s Eleana, I’ve gotta get going.” He’s quick to make his way to the door, grabbing his trench coat from the rack. He throws it over his figure.

“Wait- Who’s Eleana?” You call out, making your way over to his spot. He fixes the collar of his button up, tightening his tie.

“She’s with High Lines. She’s our rep, but the bidders aren’t biting so she’s calling me in to sweet talk ‘em.” He calls out, making his way quickly down the hallway before turning around.

“Thanks for the pie!”

You wave, smiling brightly as he leaves. Once he’s completely out of sight, you slam the door, huffing from frustration.

“Jeez, Y/n. So desperate.” He teases, taking a bite from the apple displayed in the bowl set on your counter. You turn around, ears -would be- steaming from anger.

“I am NOT desperate!” He leans back from your volume, covering his ears to shield them from your anger.

“I was trying to have a nice dinner with a coworker-”

“Who you wanna fuck.”

“And eat some pie with him-”

“Who you wanna fuck.”

“And then a stupid photography student had to barge in and ruin my damn day!”

He smirks, dragging out his words. “Who you want to fuck.”

Your fists clench at your sides, face reddening from fury. You reach over for the throw pillow, putting its name to good use. He’s quick to dodge, laughing at your sad attempt.

“And what’s with you, huh!? One minute you’re completely avoiding me and the next you’re trying to take nude photos of me?!” He goes silent, slowly reaching forwards to take a bite of one of the hotteok you'd made.

“Been deciding.” He comments, licking his thumb clean of the chocolate.

“On what.” You gripe, going to clean up the kitchen in anger. He hops off the counter, placing himself behind, gently slowly moving your movements to a halt before he has his hands on each side of your hips. His front gently presses against your back, his warm breath coming to creep up behind your ear like a little kid on halloween.

“On you.”

You turn to turn around to face him, but his hands steady your hips preventing you. Your head lulls back, originally trying to talk to him but he’d taken the opportunity to press wet kisses to the side of your neck. Your lips part, a soft moan escapes into the thin air. His hands follow the lines of your body, reaching forwards to cup your breasts.

“You smell like cookies.” He whispers, making you laugh.

“Gee, I wonder why?” He chuckles, twisting your body around to press flush against his. You two had been in the most intimate embrace of a lifetime. Your arms coiled around his neck, his hands settled back to steady your hips. His forehead nudges closer, pressing against your to tease your lips with his breath.

Your voice softens, “That tickles..” He smiles, back the two of you into the counter. “Mmm, ticklish?” He wraps his arms around your thighs, lifting you up in one swoop to set you down on the counter. He plants himself between your widened legs, hands resting on the small of your waist.

“Have you no memory of last night?” His head tilts, faking a confused expression. “Mmmm, remind me.” You laugh, going to unwrap your arms from his but he’s swift to scoop you up bridal style.

“Or, shall I remind you.”

Your pushed back into the soft plush of your bedsheets. The cream colored fabrics jumping in alignment with your bounce when pressure is applied. His body stalks yours, leaning over you like a falling Jenga tower.

"Jimin are we-" His finger comes to press against your lips, quieting your rambling mouth.

"Tell me right now that you don't want to fuck me. If you don't, then shut the fuck up kindly, wifey."

Your arms fall to your sides. You were going to protest, push him off of you and kick him out of your apartment never to be seen again but-

You did want him to stay.

Your head nods softly, earning him a small grin. His hands snake up your body, lips pressing against you neck in a slowed and hushed manor. Fingertips graze the hem of your cropped tee. His chest releases a lowered grunt, slipping the thin fabric over your head before throwing it somewhere across the room.

His fingers trail along the lace of your brassiere. A smile paints his lower face at the sight. "Pretty." Suddenly, his expression switches. From loving and soft, to demanding and hard.

"Were you planning on fucking that Nam-shoe guy?" You chuckle at his insult, hands cupping both sides of his cheeks.

"Honestly? A little." His hands grip onto the lace fabric, ripping the expensive-looking material from your warmed body.

You let out a short yelp, hands flying to cover yourself. He groans, pulling your hands away.

"Don't you fucking even try, baby." He smirks, leaning his head down to your level. His soft breaths roll across the skin of your cheek, landing on your ears. "Wearing these tight ass jeans, and a shirt that wouldn't even fit a fucking baby doll? You're just asking for it."

You nod, flashing him some cute pleading eyes. "I am asking." He lets out a dark chuckle, hands coming to pinch lightly at your exposed nipples. Your head lulls back, groaning at the sudden touch.

"I don't need asking. I want you begging."

Hands gripping the bottom of your thighs, he pulls your your body down until the hardened outline of his jeans had been pressed firmly against your aching core.

his arms lock into place, trapping you in his grip.

"What do you say?"

Your throat feels dry. However, your panties had become more than soaked through. You shouldn't do this. You really shouldn't. You'd already fucked up with Taehyung, and now with Namjoon? This man has caused you nothing but trouble.

Yet, you still couldn't help the words that seemingly fall from your lips so easily.

"Please."

________________________

PART TWO WILL BE RELEASED ASAP.

#park jimin #jimin x y/n #jimin x oc #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin yandere #bts yandere #jimin smut #Jimin slow burn?#bts #bts masterlist #bts fics #pjm #bts smut

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