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sunarintoes · 3 years

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Pretty Setter Squad Boyfriend Headcanons

part one can be found here II wc: 2.4k II includes: kageyama, suga, kenma, akaashi, semi and oikawa II atsumu and shirabu

rewriting because i cringe at the old hcs 😭

✗ Kagggggsss

✗ The emotionally constipated blueberry <3 oh yeahh 😎

✗ Okay well first off he can barely process his emotions (*cough* evidently *cough*)

✗ When you two first started going out he was quite shy and unsure of what to do so you may have had to guide him a bit, but if youre equally shy then it just would have taken longer to get to where you are now; oh and if that was the case it probably took some random burst of energy/confidence from either one of you to make the first move.

✗ He will buy you milk but uf you hate it (like me 🤢) he will buy you another drink - like juice :D

✗ I dont think he will be the most affectionate, it’s not his love language - and neither are words haHAH. His love language is most likely quality time and gift giving.

✗ He does like to cuddle though 😳

✗ In fact he really likes to :D his favourite is when youre sitting in his lap while he watches a volleyball game (at home - he hates pda).

✗ This brings us to our next, short point. Kageyama absolutely despises pda, he just thinks its something meant for closed doors and he does not believe that he has to display his relationship for the whole world to ogle at. The most he will do is light hand holding - mostly just linking your pinkies though.

✗ When it comes to height he does not care if you're smaller or taller than him ← but bb, please don't tease him about his height if he’s shorter because he will blow a fuse.

✗ He alternates between small spoon and big spoon, kinda depending on his mood.

✗ BOY O BOY does he get jealous. Uh please reign in your setter >:(

✗ Its mostly due to the fact that he’s insecure about himself - he thinks you will leave him like everyone else (in middle school - yes, he is still traumatised from it.)

✗ When he does get jealous he might be snappy to the other person and glare at them or be snappy at you and glare at you. When this happens please give him space because he needs it to clear his head. When he feels better he will come up to you and hug you into his chest so that he can’t see your face and you cant see his, then he will mumble an apology.

✗ Ever since you two began to date he has practiced apologising and getting better at apologising, this is because his inability to admit to his own mistakes was a sour patch in your relationship that almost ended it but he really did not want to lose you so he sucked up his pride and worked on what he had to; of course you also worked in what you had to. God I love character development 😩

✗ Dates are mostly at home dates or dates revolving around volleyball. If you're not into volleyball, Kageyama would not date you, it's something he is so passionate about and loves with every breath he takes (like you) and he refuses to compromise one love for the other.

✗ ooooh he likes arcade dates a well! He thrives in a competitive environment. If you're not competitive and don't want to compete against him then he’ll compete for you - against the machines lol. Of course you play as well! But i doubt youre as competitive as this blueberry, and if you are - well i guess at the end of the day youll both be stacked in tokens 🤠

✗ Sugawara my beloved <33

✗ He. Is. So. Affectionate!

✗ Mans loves skin on skin contact ykwim?

✗ He is down for pda and does not care what others think - only what you think <3.

✗ I mean he might make out with you in public if you ask nicely

✗ Dates are very fun with him, he’ll take you to cafes, to amusement parks, to carnivals, to movies and all the like. He’s a cliche lover and he’s proud of it.

✗ Your first kiss happened on New Years Eve/Day. The two of you sat on the roof of his house and watched as the fireworks lit up the starry sky of Miyagi and chanted the count down together. The second ‘one’ left your lips he grabbed your face (softly!!) and pulled you in to crash his lips against yours.

✗ Suga loves to cuddle, preferably face to face because he just thinks you're the most beautiful person in the world.

✗ He is not the most jealous person, he definitely does get jealous but never of strangers. It's more when his close friends or your close friends get a bit too comfortable if that makes sense? He normally plays it off with humour and messes around because he acknowledges that he is insecure and that it is most likely him thinking of the worst case scenario; however if he really does start to worry and get jealous then he will sit you down and talk about it with you. To him, communication is key.

✗ Ngl Kenma is definitely in my top 3 favourites.

✗ I may or may not be a Kenma kinnie 😳🙈

✗ i love my non-toxic gamer boy <33 anywho: no matter what ANYONE says, kenma is definitely affectionate. In fact I'd say he’s one of the most affectionate boyfriends. As we all know, he is shy and introverted but he likes to hang around and spend time with people he likes. He also talks a lot to them. So I hc that he’s a bit of a chatterbox with you and it makes him really happy when you let him talk about a game or a theory he has. He’s a great listener so you can count on him to pay attention to what you say.

✗ if you didn't already have one, he bought you a switch. He loves video game dates especially when he can't see you in person (*cough* lockdown *cough*)

✗ he loves when you sit on his lap when he plays video games. I know everyone talks about sitting on their partner’s lap as some sexual thing and yeah that can happen but most of the time he’s really soft with you and just enjoys being close to you. Loves when you cuddle into him while he plays so that he can place his head on yours or your shoulder.

✗ i think he is a bit shy when it comes to kisses but definitely warms up after a while. He absolutely refuses to sleep if he doesnt get your goodnight kisses. He loves to kiss you on your nose and your cheeks the most. He loves when you kiss him on the forehead and the nose <3

✗ kenma is not one for pda, it's just not his vibe. He prefers intimacy and privacy; his relationship is not a movie for the world to watch and gawk at. Especially timeskip!kenma. Though that does not mean he wont ever show you skinship in public, occasionally he will softly hold your hand and maybe press a light kiss to your cheek.

✗ in terms of jealousy, he is moderate. Kenma, as we all know, has incredible people reading skills, so he understands the situation pretty clearly and knows when you’re uncomfortable/what you think of the situation. Most of the time you can deal with the unwanted attention and he doesnt get jealous, but he does get insecure. He shows this by going quiet and looking away when you look at him, you can cure this by giving him hugs when you get home.

✗ Akaashi my beloved <3 he’s so pretty i can't even-

✗ ugh! Just imagine him in a dark/light academia aesthetic.

✗ perfection.

✗ akaashi is the sweetest most attentive boyfriend, he loves you to pieces and never fails to let you know. He tells you he loves you every morning and every night. He probably makes meals for you and leaves notes in that have a sweet comment like “i love you, you're the best <3”

✗ he love back hugging you BUT also receiving back hugs 🥺✨

✗ akaashi is a booknerd and an introvert. Please cuddle up to him and let him read his book to you.

✗ there are only 2 things that can restore his social battery: sleeping and you.

✗ which means he wants cuddles when he’s tired 😊

✗ he is not jealous. He just doesn't get jealous, maybe annoyed if the third party is being a bit too pushy and you're clearly uncomfortable, but he just never feels jealous. No matter how hard you may try to make him jealous (plz dont cause that's kinda toxic imo) he just won't feel that way.

✗ definitely the ‘mom/dad’ as he carries sinister, pads, bandaids → a whole first aid kit basically, everywhere. Bb must be prepared.

✗ dates are so sweet with him, cute niche cafes and dimly lit libraries. Maybe the occasional abandoned building. He loves spending time with you, so really he's happiest whenever he’s with you; having coffee at McDonalds or a niche cafe won't change anything.

✗ he’s hard to pinpoint for pda. I feel like he’s indifferent about it. He probably prefers to keep it indoors or to just small and sweet gestures (no making out in public sorry-). It definitely comes down to your preferences, if you don't like it then he won't and vice versa.

✗ semi semi semi semi semi semi

✗ omg mr musician

✗ he definitely plays guitar - lead guitar and bass guitar.

✗ skilled fingies for sure 😗

✗ boy why are musicians so hot???? 😫😫😫💦💦

✗ he writes songs about you. Semsem has a bit of trouble saying exactly how he feels, so he writes it and sings it to you with a small little smile and eyes full of love.

✗ off topic but Semu has the best music taste in haikyuu

✗ he loves hugs so much <33 please hug and cuddle with him 24/7

✗ very affectionate, he’s always touching you someway. Loves kissing your forehead.

✗ he is jealous. Yeah definitely. He writes songs about being jealous 🗿 not that you mind of course ‘cause they're bangers. I think he might get snappy when he’s jealous, not directly at you but at the other person. He definitely gets a bit bitchy. Sometimes he acts that way to you so you've just gotta slap some sense into him. Say something like “what's your problem?” or “tell me what your problem is so i can help fix it.” ← that's probably the best thing to say.

✗ afterwards he’ll just snuggle with you until he feels better.

✗ he asks for your opinion about his songs all the time, please be honest (but also praise them if you like them lol)

✗ he takes you to niche spots he finds, like hidden concerts and stuff. Loves when you come to his gigs <3 oh and when you scream for him (in more ways than one).

✗ dates are cute and fun. Mostly walking around together → carnivals, main street, farmers market. Those kind of things.

✗ when it comes to pda he loves it. Loves being able to show the world who his s/o is. If you don't like it then he will tone it down and only do what you’re comfortable with. If you're also into pda then he will happily make out with you anywhere (you're one of THOSE couples 🤢 /j)

✗ all round best boyfie <3

✗ oikawa 😳 have i told y'all how much i love him? Oikawa is the best written character, no cap, he is so complex and real it's crazy. It's so fun to write about him because you can pick him apart, you know his flaws, his weaknesses, his nightmares but also his strengths and dreams. Anywho i'll stop ranting now but i just love writing for such a perfectly imperfect character-

✗ he puts up a cocky exterior but thats all false. He's as scared as you are, he's scared that you'll leave him like his exes because of how obsessed and focused he is on volleyball. However he is a changed man, he's learned to balance his priorities. If you ever feel like you're being sidelined please communicate with him.

✗ he values communication above all else and wants nothing more in a partner than for them to also value communication.

✗ back to the point → if you feel insecure of your relationship and that volleyball is taking too much of his attention let him know. He will change that. To an extent → he may have an important game coming up which is why he is focusing more, but he will always find time for you.

✗ he never forgets to text you good morning and good night. He also sends you wholesome memes and makes sure you're taking care of yourself - they're like reminders for him to also take care of himself.

✗ he is both jealous and insecure. Everyone who gets too close to you or spends a lot of time with you, he is jealous of. Jealous because he wishes he could spend more time with you but he knows he can't - not without jeopardising his volleyball career. He's also insecure, because he knows you could just leave him for a more fulfilling, more attentive, more balanced relationship. You know that too, I mean, of course you could leave him but no one would be as good as him. No one could match up to your beautifully flawed boyfriend.

✗ he is affectionate, very, very affectionate. He loves you so much. And because he spends so much time on volleyball, anytime with you he's touching you - memorizing every dint, every curve, everything about you so that he won't ever forget.

✗ Oikawa has trouble sleeping unless he's with you, he wants to sling to you in his sleep and be grounded and remember that he is loved and cherished and appreciated y'know?

✗ pda is not an issue for him. He doesn't care what anyone else says or thinks :P in this relationship the only opinions that matter are his and your’s. Tell him you're uncomfortable with something and he won't do it, and vice versa. But otherwise, like Semi, he won't mind having a good makeout session with you in the middle of the street ;)

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

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heated, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: An (innocent?) conversation about D/s dynamics accidentally leads to you confessing that you think about your childhood best friend while getting off. To your childhood best friend, Jeon Jungkook. Erm. This is after he told you that you would be “an awful sub”, btw.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, discussions about adult topics; reader is bisexual; smut (fem reader, dry humping, fingering, [tiny bit] m-receiving oral, penetrative sex); fluffy af; non-idol!AU; F2L; softdom!Jungkook x softbrat!reader; you kind of have a forearm kink and you never let Jungkook have his lovey-dovey moment, whoops

MMA 2020 ‘ON’ Jungkook? Yeah. That one.

“I could never be a sub.”

You clicked rapidly as you spoke, mashing the right button on your mouse. It was quite loud, paired with your mechanical keyboard.

“Why not?”

The music coming from Jeon Jungkook’s smartphone was a rhythm game, nearly as loud as you, since he was grunting angrily at it. It was very obvious when he missed a beat.

“I can’t imagine that being me, you know?”

You, on the other hand, were on your computer, playing with the new items in League of Legends from the latest patch. Using the practice tool, you had loaded up your favorite champion, Jhin, the Virtuoso, and messed with various builds, trying to find the best combination. So far, Lethality was feeling pretty good.

“Like why would I ever let my pleasure be handled by someone else?” you mused, reading the high damage numbers of each shot. Oh, the fourth shot felt nice. “That sounds stupid.”

Jungkook rolled over on your bed, growling in his throat as the level ended. He restarted it, trying to get a better score. “Maybe people like to let go sometimes. You know, not always be in control.”

You snorted. “I could never trust someone else with my body.”

“You got an alien body or something?”

“Shut up, Jungkook.”

“No.”

“Fine.”

“Anyway,” Jungkook continued, ignoring your outburst. “I didn’t ask if you could be a sub, I just asked what you thought of domination and submission as a dynamic in general.”

You shrugged, trying to see if you could do Baron alone. Welp, you needed lifesteal, of course. “I mean, I’ve tried it in various situations. I was never the sub.”

“Kinky.”

“Shut up, Jungkook.”

“No.” Jungkook suddenly sat up, excited that he achieved a higher score. “Look, look. I got ninety-eight.”

You craned your head to look at his phone screen. “Why isn’t it one hundred? You’re a disgrace to this family.”

He bopped you on the nose with his phone. “If I was part of your family, your family would be even more dysfunctional than it is now.”

You rubbed your nose and looked up at him. “How much gel did you use in your hair? You look like a wet dog.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows went up and he touched his long black hair. “It’s not crunchy though.” He grabbed your hand and lowered his head, placing your palm on his slicked back hair. “See?”

You pulled your hand back, staring at your palm. “Still feels weird though. I call sorcery.”

He shrugged, creaking the black leather jacket he was wearing. He wore a black t-shirt under it. The black jeans he had been wearing were on your bed, swapped for the black joggers he kept at your place. You weren’t really sure why he left the jacket on. Maybe he was cold or something. It was pretty cold in your apartment. You were wearing fleece green pajamas with Pikachu all over them.

“You want me to turn the heat up?” you said, gesturing to his jacket.

Jungkook looked down at his chest. “Eh. It’s fine. Saves you money.”

You shrugged, getting up from your chair, leaving the League client open. “You’re only staying a little while, right? Party to go to and all that?”

Jungkook followed you as you left your room. “Told you it was cancelled, so I was just going to sleep over. No reason to go back home.”

You turned around, walking backwards. “When did you say it was cancelled?”

Jungkook raised his dark eyebrows. “Literally when I walked in your apartment.”

“Hah.”

You turned back around and went to your fridge, grabbing an aloe juice. Jungkook went to your water kettle, hunting for hot chocolate among your tea packets.

“You’d make an awful sub anyway,” Jungkook said, returning to the original subject as he filled the kettle with water from your filtered sink faucet. “Like, probably the fucking worst.”

You took a large swig and glared at him. “Alright, first of all, you wouldn’t even–”

“You’re terrible with authority.”

You paused. “Okay, true.”

“You’re angry, twenty-four, seven.”

You walked up to him and slapped him in his very hard pecs. He gestured at his chest, as if to indicate, exhibit A.

“And you’re super uptight.”

“I am not uptight.”

“Control freak.”

“That’s–”

Jungkook turned around and placed the kettle on its stand. You swooped in with a Pikachu-themed kitchen towel and wiped the excess water away, scowling. Jungkook raised his eyebrows at you, brown eyes laughing.

“That’s literally a safety hazard!” you exclaimed, waving the towel at him.

Jungkook rolled his eyes and pressed the button to start heating the water. “Haven’t you ever just… not freaked out over every little thing? Done something spontaneous and stupid?”

You placed the kitchen towel back in its proper place. “No, because that would be spontaneous and stupid, Jeon Jungkook.”

He leaned against the counter, watching you perfectly fold the towel into three parts and hang it on the rail. He scratched his nose, shaking his head. “You should be more like me.”

“Having the police called on you because you were standing on a lawn chair tooting a party horn at four in the morning?”

“That was one time! Stop bringing it up,” Jungkook groaned.

You raised your hands in innocence. “Well, I was the one called to pick you up because you literally couldn’t remember any other number and I was very disturbed on New Year’s Eve, where I should have been peacefully sleeping and not hauling your drunk ass across town.”

Jungkook sighed exaggeratedly. “I’m sorry, okay? I won’t drink that much again. Jimin made me do shots–”

“You always blame Park Jimin,” you interjected, smiling. “Jimin’s the kind of guy who only wears clothes to take them off.”

“Well, it gets him laid, so I guess it’s working.”

The kettle whistled noisily, cutting through the conversation. You took a sip from your aloe juice as Jungkook grabbed a mug from your cupboard and poured the hot chocolate powder into it.

“You want some milk?”

He looked up. “You have milk?”

You went to the fridge and took out a small carton. “Because you said you were coming.”

“Aw, what a sweetie.”

“Shut up, Jungkook.”

“No.”

That’s how it was with you two. Growing up together was the same conversation over and over of you constantly saying shut up and Jungkook always replying with no. If both your dads hadn’t been such good friends, you probably wouldn’t have been able to tolerate him. Since they were, you were forced to, which turned out to be okay, since it turned out you had similar interests in games and such. It drifted apart a bit when you two entered high school, but you two reconnected once university started.

The dysfunctionality Jungkook was referring to was your two older sisters, who both got pregnant out of wedlock and thus caused a lot of tension between them, your parents, and you, the one who hadn’t actually done that yet. And you were trying to keep it that way.

Jungkook poured half-water and half-milk, stirring it with a silver spoon he found in your drawer. You lived alone, having gotten a full scholarship to be able to pay for tuition, meals, and part of a small apartment. Your parents paid for the rest – another point of strain between you and your sisters. That’s why you kept your grades up and rarely went out.

“When was the last time you fucked a guy?”

You sucked the inside of your cheek. “Dunno. Maybe two years ago.”

Jungkook raised his eyebrows and took a long sip. “So, only girls, huh?”

You tilted your head and sighed. “They don’t get you pregnant.”

“Neither does a condom.”

“That’s a ninety-eight percent chance, not one hundred.”

He licked the excess off his pink lips. He looked like he wanted to say something, but reconsidered, taking another sip before replying. “You don’t miss dick?”

“I mean, a dildo is a dick.”

Jungkook nearly spat out his hot chocolate. You snatched your Pikachu towel again and threatened him with it. He raised a hand, coughing.

“A dildo is not a dick,” he hacked out. “You insult me.”

“Hmph.” You turned back around and placed the Pikachu towel back in its place, making sure the graphic was perfectly centered.

“You tell your parents?”

You narrowed your eyes. ‘Why the fuck would I tell my parents that I fuck girls instead of guys to avoid getting pregnant?”

He shrugged. “Give them peace of mind?”

“You think too highly of the generation before us.”

Jungkook gave you a weird look. “So… you’re just using them?”

“No.” You paused. “Okay, maybe a little, but it’s not because they’re girls. I guess I haven’t found someone who understands me yet.”

He took a long, noisy sip of hot chocolate. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“No one can understand you if you only fuck once and drop them.”

“Wouldn’t you fucking know,” you replied irritably.

“Now, I fuck multiple times before I realize it’s not going to work out,” Jungkook countered.

You shoved your bottle of aloe juice back into your fridge. Suddenly, you weren’t thirsty anymore.

“Is that the only reason?”

You closed the fridge door.

“Reason for what?”

“Is fear of pregnancy the only reason you fuck girls?”

“I don’t know!” you shouted, throwing your hands up. You spun around, blowing hot air. “I don’t fucking know why I do it, Jungkook. I don’t know why I load up dating apps to only hook up with girls, I don’t know why I don’t try to get into relationships with them, I don’t know what is wrong with me and why I can’t give anyone a chance and I don’t know why you pop up in my head every time I try to fucking masturbate! It is annoying and I do not like it, so I try to get off with someone else!”

Your chest was heaving with exertion and annoyance, hand curled onto a fist and planted on your kitchen counter, glaring at the space past Jungkook’s head, muscle twitching in your cheek. Your heart was beating so fast it didn’t feel real.

Silence.

“Fuck you, Jungkook.”

And then you turned around, stalking back to your bedroom.

Or would have, if you didn’t hear the clink of the mug touching the kitchen counter and Jungkook grabbing your upper arm, yanking you back, slamming you against his muscular body. You hissed, staring into his chest.

“Let me go.”

“Hold on a second.” You watched Jungkook take a deep breath, his toned, tan skin rising and falling. The silver necklace on his collarbones flashed as he breathed. “Just hold on a damn second.”

Your eyes were on the low neckline of his black shirt. It felt weird being close to him. Not that you two haven’t been physically close, because you had. But it had never been like this. Since you realized he wouldn’t leave your mind every time you tried to masturbate. Since you started looking to other people to push him out. Since you were sure that it was not just a passing thought, not just your brain playing tricks on you. And being this close to him now, you understood.

And it scared you.

“You cannot dump all that on me and expect me not to react,” Jungkook said quietly.

“Shut up, Jungkook.”

“No,” he snapped. He grabbed both your upper arms and shook you violently, making you jerk your head up to blink at him. Jungkook furrowed his brows, his dark eyes glaring at you, jaw clenched tightly. “I will not shut up. Why should I shut up? I should shut you up.”

And then he kissed you.

Your eyes widened. Jungkook’s pink lips were on you. You. On your lips, pressed firmly against them, gripping you so tight you were losing feeling in your arms. You tore back, stumbling, touching your lips, shoulders shaking, not sure why your heart was beating out of your chest, not sure why your lips tingled and wanted more, not sure why Jungkook slowly opening his eyes and flickering to you made your knees knock together uncomfortably.

“What are you doing?” you sputtered. “You don’t even… what…?”

“I’m kissing you,” he growled, walking up to you and pinning you against the counter. “I’m fucking kissing you because you want me to.”

“I don’t…”

“Just shut up, please.”

And then Jungkook kissed you again, harder this time, pressing you against the kitchen counter, hands coming up and taking you by the waist, pulling you to him and his leather jacket, him and his black shirt, breathing your name into your lips, your hands grabbing his t-shirt and yanking him to you, gasping into his mouth. And you wanted to say, no, no, you weren’t supposed to know, but it was too late because you were shoving his leather jacket off, grasping his shoulders, fingers pressing into his hard muscles, sliding down his biceps.

You yanked your head back and his hand came up to grab it back, kissing you more, more, tongue licking your lips, hissing your name, grinding his hips against yours. Your hand came up in between you two, stopping him, stopping him and his insatiable lips.

“You have to s-say–” You moaned, feeling him harden against your fleece pajamas. “You have to say it.”

“Say what?” Jungkook muttered impatiently, kissing your hand, speaking into your palm.

“Say you’re okay with it,” you gritted out as he rolled his crotch into yours.

“Obviously I’m okay with it,” he grumbled. “Why else am I humping you in your kitchen?”

“You said I’m a c-control freak,” you groaned, throwing your head back as Jungkook slid his hands down to your ass and squeezed it, grinding against you.

“You are,” he grunted. “You can’t let go, you can’t enjoy yourself, you can’t even tell me you like me so I can fucking fuck you already, instead of me cancelling my parties so I can spend time laying on your bed and staring at you playing video games wondering when you’re going to fucking notice that I want to bang you.”

“What?” you replied breathlessly.

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “You’re so busy controlling your own life that you don’t even notice the people around you anymore.”

“What?” you repeated again as Jungkook hoisted you up by your ass and began to walk, forcing you to grab him by the shoulders and stare down his right arm, the fully tattooed one with flowers and script and the tiny circle with angry slits for eyes and a frown on the inside of his elbow, the one Jungkook said was for you and you had slapped him in the chest and told him to shut up.

“Let me take over for once,” he mumbled, placing his chin on your shoulder and nudging you with his head and his non-crispy but still not quite soft dark hair.

“You said I would be an awful sub.”

Jungkook dumped you on the bed, shooing you upwards. You didn’t move, frowning at him. He sighed dramatically.

“You would. You are,” he corrected, planting a hand on your chest and pushing you down, bouncing you against your Pikachu bedsheets. He sandwiched your arms at your sides and straddled your torso. The bed bowed far too low and you almost slid off. Hurriedly, you scooted upwards and Jungkook followed, unbothered.

“You said I’m terrible with authority.”

Jungkook wrestled your arms back down and pinned them with his strong thighs. “You are.”

“You said I’m angry, twenty-four, seven.”

He cocked his head, slowly unbuttoning your pajama shirt. “Still true.”

“And you said I’m uptight,” you added ruefully, pouting.

Jungkook shrugged, reaching in between his legs to unbutton he last few ones. “I’ll fuck it out of you.”

“Jungkook!”

“What?”

He paused, towering above you, eyebrow raised. His black hair curled around his ears, against his silver hoops and base of his neck. His dark eyes pierced down at you, tiny mole under his lips clearly visible from this position. You could see the bottom of his sharp chin, the black t-shirt clinging to his chest, the shape of his tan arms, one tattooed, one not, from below.

“Y-you’re pinching my right arm…”

Jungkook looked down, moving his left leg. “Sorry.”

You winced, pulling out your left arm to rub the other. He tapped your forearm impatiently with his finger.

“You’re ruining the moment,” he scolded.

“You ruined it by bruising me,” you shot back, backing up to your pillows on your elbows, grimacing as you soothed your arm.

“I’m going to bruise you more if you keep being a little brat,” Jungkook growled, following you on hands and knees, the neckline of his t-shirt hanging down, revealing way too much of his skin. Your eyes widened and you slipped, a white plush Poro bonking you in the head. He grabbed it and tossed it aside, the poor guy rolling on the floor.

“That’s very rude,” you muttered, but he was over your body now, breathing hard, staring down your now open shirt and the curve of your breasts into your black bra.

“Why do you get hotter every year?”

You raised an eyebrow. “I… don’t?”

Jungkook shoved the sides of your pajama shirt apart impatiently, reaching under your back and pinching the bra clasp, undoing it with one hand.

“Yes, you do,” he exhaled hotly. “Every year you get prettier and prettier and it pisses me off so much that I have to work out to look half as good as you.”

You felt your ears and cheeks get hot. “Well… you do look very, erm, good.”

“You’re very convincing,” Jungkook chuckled darkly, pushing your bra up and sucking in his lower lip as he revealed your hard, quivering nipples.

Your eyes shifted away from his hungry eyes. “I, uh… am very wet.”

A single, perfectly shaped eyebrow ticked. “Show me.”

“Um…”

He lifted himself off you, pointing down.

“Show me,” Jungkook commanded.

You tried to move your arms and found them tangled in your clothes. You frowned and shrugged out of your pajama shirt, chucking it and your bra aside, before gripping the waistband of your green fleece pants. You hesitated and looked back at Jungkook, who just flapped his hand downwards, giving you a neutral expression.

You puffed your cheeks and raised your hips, yanking your pants and panties down your thighs. You had to bend your legs a bit to fully take them off since Jungkook’s knees were on the outside of your thighs.

Now you were fully naked in front of your childhood best friend. And he was still fully clothed.

“Er, aren’t you going to–”

Jungkook cut you off. “You still haven’t shown me.”

You blinked at him. “What do you want me to do, become a fucking pretzel?”

Jungkook shrugged. “Any way you can prove to me you’re wet.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Fucking…” You bent your right leg and slid it up between his thighs, brushing against his sweatpants and feeling his hard-on for a hot second before you jammed your leg into your chest and lifted it out, pressing your thigh against your torso and raising your calf into the air. You turned your head to the left, letting out an exasperated huff.

“There. You see it?”

Shit, this position was embarrassing for some reason. You could feel cold air on your dripping pussy. Maybe he couldn’t see or something. You lifted your right arm to wrap around your thigh, pressing it down against your breasts since Jungkook wasn’t saying anything.

“That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Jungkook breathed.

“Okay, going to put my leg do–”

You gasped, suddenly feeling Jungkook’s fingertips touch your heated core, smearing your juices around the lips, his hot breath against your ear as he touched you. You shuddered as he stroked your folds, your name on his lips, his lips kissing your ear.

“Had to touch you,” he whispered against your neck, tone desperate. “I’m sorry, I just had to touch that beautiful pussy, all wet and slopping for me.”

Your eyelids fluttered as his middle finger found your clit, pressing on it. “J-Jungkook… That’s my…”

He chuckled deep in his throat. “Yeah? That’s your what?”

Slow, lazy circles, pushing it around, moan leaving your lips. “My c-clit…”

“Want me to touch it?” Jungkook purred. “Want me to handle your pleasure?”

But he as already touching it, nursing the sensitive bundle of nerves and rousing your lust, igniting it and setting it on fire.

“Y-yes…”

He kissed down your neck, whispering softly, licking your collarbones. “You trust me? You trust me with this pretty, perfect, hot, sexy, fuckable body?”

You arched your neck, giving him more access as he ran his pink lips all over, rubbing your clit, mouth on your throat. Your whole body shook, hips rolling into his finger.

“Y-yes…”

His breath so electrifying that you could barely focus, barely speak as Jungkook’s other hand came up behind your head, long fingers burying into your hair, holding tight, so tight it almost hurt, teeth nipping at your skin.

“Want to mark you,” he mumbled. “Want to give you a big fat hickey you can’t explain, want to bruise you so bad you’ll be staring at it for weeks, thinking about my lips on you, remembering my teeth gave you that.”

He pressed another finger to your clit, increasing the pace, and all you could do was hiss out a yes, a burning yes, a pleading yes, please, Jungkook, whining as his teeth sank into the spot where your shoulder and neck connected, sucking hard, his tongue licking away the prickling pain. His hips rolled into your thigh, his hard cock pressing against you, straining against his pants.

Jungkook moaned into your skin, so hot, so intense, rubbing your aching clit faster, harder, more urgently. Sucking and humping your leg as the feeling of his teeth and his fingers overwhelmed you, one hand clutching his shirt and one hand curled into your sheets as your thighs shook, trying to close but unable to because Jungkook was so strong, so there, so overpowering that you could only lay there and take it, take it as his name poured out of you in a breathless wail, throwing your head back as you felt your pussy clench around nothing, your juices becoming slicker, thicker, the scent of your orgasm staining the air.

He shoved the two fingers inside you and unlatched his mouth, moaning with you as he felt you squeeze his fingers, pumping you in long, slow strokes, all the way to his knuckles. You whimpered, tightening your core and Jungkook moaned again, eyes closed, his hair in disarray as you fucked his hand, clamping your hands on his right forearm, gasping at the feel of his muscle. Pussy throbbing around his fingers, hips meeting his knuckles over and over.

His eyes opened, watching your fuck yourself with his hand, an almost bored expression on his features, but you didn’t care because you felt him flex his fingers and his arm, telling you to continue, telling you he liked it.

“I thought you were going to let me do it.” Jungkook’s voice was low, trying to stay even despite his shallow breathing. “Have to control everything, don’t you?”

You caught your lower lip in your teeth, eyes moving to his face, his handsome, angular face with his black hair curled around his forehead and his cocked eyebrow, smirk on his lips.

“I’m not in control,” you panted. “Your forearm is…”

Jungkook flexed it under your hand and you moaned pathetically, breath hitching.

His smirk grew wider.

“It’s getting you off touching it.”

You swallowed, close, so close and Jungkook was taunting you and for some reason you couldn’t tell him to shut up, because he kept tensing his arm and it was so fucking hot that you really were going to orgasm.

“Say it,” he purred, breathing your name. “Tell me you like my forearm.”

Your eyes shifted down to his arm in your hands, the tiny angry face tattoo in his inner elbow frowning at you.

“I fucking love it, Jungkook,” you gasped. “Fuck, I love your delicious, sexy-as-fuck forearms.”

He grinned and began to thrust his fingers into you, fast, so fast you couldn’t even fathom how he could be that fast like a fucking vibrator, sending torrents of pleasure through you and his arm was so hard and his skin so soft that your eyes rolled back into your head, moaning his name far too loud. Jungkook placed a hand over your mouth and you screamed into it, liquid gushing down your thighs, but he didn’t stop, he kept going until you felt it again, pussy throbbing, back-to-back, eyelids fluttering, nails digging into his arm as the crescendo slammed into you, taking your breath and senses away, lost only in the feeling of Jungkook’s secure presence above you.

He slowed, breathing hard. Gently, carefully pulling his fingers out of your pulsating pussy, gasping as he removed his hand. You vaguely heard Jungkook place his fingers in his mouth, sighing wantonly at your taste.

“You taste so good,” he whispered around his fingers. “Fuck, so sweet and thick and delicious.”

Your brain could not compute what the fuck was happening. Did Jungkook just give you three mind-blowing orgasms in a row after you exploded at him and admitted to thinking about him while masturbating?

Holy shit.

He pressed his face into your hair, inhaling your scent.

You swallowed thickly.

“Jungkook, do you, ah… want something too?” you asked quietly.

You heard him snicker. “If I take my clothes off, I’m going to want to put my dick in you.”

“… I’m cool with that.”

“I thought a dildo was the same as a dick?”

You cleared your throat. “Ah… Well, I didn’t think you’d want to put a dick in me.”

Jungkook laughed. “If I had five dicks, I’d put them all in you.”

“Erm… mathematically speaking, that doesn’t really work…”

“Shut up.”

Jungkook sat up, looking down at you with a smile. The same smile he always had, but a little different now, because he didn’t have to hide his attraction to you anymore.

“You really let me put it in you?”

You narrowed your eyes. “With a ninety-eight percent chance, only.”

His smile became mischievous. “That’s not one hundred percent.”

You puffed your cheeks.

“I’ll take the two percent chance for you and only you, Jungkook.”

He grinned and turned around, throwing himself to the end of the bed where his jeans were barely holding on. Fishing through the pockets, retrieving the foil packet from the back pocket. You blinked at him.

“How long has that been–”

Jungkook gave you a silencing look. “I bring a new one every time I come over, in hopes you become drunk enough to sit on my dick.”

You blinked at him. “What.” Not a question, just you stating it.

“Because you’re paranoid.”

You frowned. “I’m not–”

He launched himself over the bed and silenced you with a kiss, deep and longing. You leaned into it, breathing softly, tongue against his, pressing back against him. Jungkook drew back slowly, thumb on your cheek. Eyes looking into yours, careful and tender.

“I don’t want you to worry,” he said against your lips. “I’ll do anything you want. I know it’s not easy for you. I know you’re not ready for the million babies I want from you.”

“I can’t have a million babies. It’s not scientifically possible,” you interjected.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. “Can you just let me have one romantic moment?”

“Erm, sorry.”

“You want me to have a damn vasectomy or something? Because I’ll fucking do it. That shit’s reversible.”

“No, that kind of requires more time and I’m pretty horny for your dick right now. Condom will do.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes. “You are a shitty sub.”

“I will do better after I’ve had the dick.”

Jungkook straightened and yanked his black t-shirt over his head. “No, you won’t.”

Your eyes roamed over his toned chest. Damn, he was ripped. Maybe he was insecure about you being hot or something, but you were certainly benefiting. “You never know?”

Jungkook sent you a pained look and pressed a hand to your chest, shoving you back into your bed. “I’ve known you way too long to believe those words coming out of your mouth.”

You were going to reply, but he ran his hand over your chest, inhaling sharply as he brushed against your nipples. He ran his fingers over them, squeezing a little. You whined, trying to get more, but Jungkook pressed his palm down on your breast, breathing hard.

“Listen, woman, I’m about to explode in my damn underwear. Stop sounding so sexy this instant.”

Your eyes found his, pupils blown wide, lips pursed, and jaw tight. Your lips parted a little, tongue peeking out, a soft moan of his name emitting from your throat. You saw a muscle in his eyebrow twitch. He looked like he wanted to throttle you, at least a little bit.

You grinned.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes.

“You are lucky you’re cute,” he muttered. “And lucky I want to be in this pussy more than I want to be alive.”

“Don’t you ne–”

Jungkook planted his hand on your mouth. “The only words I want to hear out of you are, “Fuck me harder” or my own name, you got that?” he snarled, pressing his hand into your face for emphasis.

You nodded quickly.

He sighed, almost in relief, and yanked his pants and underwear down, wincing. There was a large wet spot on his boxer briefs, strings of pre-cum clinging as he pushed it down his muscular thighs.

“You made me a giant mess,” he muttered, eyes flickering up to you. “What do you have to say?”

You blinked at him and gave him a thumbs up.

He grinned. “You do know how to listen.”

In truth, you couldn’t say anything because you were breathlessly staring at Jungkook’s thick cock, red head glistening with pre-cum, dripping everywhere. You slid down quickly, startling him, and wrapped your lips around the head, moaning as his strong taste invaded your mouth. He hissed, gritting his teeth as your tongue swiped around, licking his length all over, feeling the veins and contours, memorizing them.

“F-fuck,” he gasped. “You wanted to clean me up that bad?”

Your eyes traveled up his abs, his pecs, his neck, to his face, giving him your best imploring look. He smirked, placing a hand on your forehead, and gradually, with great effort, pulled out of your tight mouth. Tight because you sucked in your cheeks, not wanting to let him go, but Jungkook was stronger than you. You frowned, but he shooed you away.

“I allowed it this one time. Now back to your spot.”

You backed up, tsking as you watched him roll down the condom, groaning as it covered him.

“I’m actually glad I have this fucking condom,” Jungkook muttered, glaring at you.

You couldn’t say anything, so you spread your legs. His eyes dropped down and he bit his lower lip, crawling to you, grabbing your thighs. Placing himself right in front of your soaked entrance, staring down at your pussy as he guided himself, sinking into you.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped, squeezing his eyes shut.

You moaned, feeling Jungkook’s cock stretch you out, so different from a silicone dildo or multiple fingers, because it was Jeon Jungkook praying for air as you clenched around his length, his cries of pleasure as he rocked his hips into you. Those long nights with your vibrator and his Instagram open on your phone were incomparable to his cock molding to your walls, his hard hips finally hitting your thighs, all the way in, and it was so good that you throbbed around him, shuddering.

“J-Jungkook…” you pleaded.

“I know,” he panted, hands gripping your knees tight. “I know, but give me a second to appreciate this pussy, holy fuck.”

He jerked his cock inside you and you cried out, definitely crushing your sheets, but Pikachu had seen a lot by now and there was only going to be more.

Jungkook finally began to slide out and push back in, groaning, starting slow and deep because quite frankly he needed to last more than five seconds and your pussy was not letting up. You had too much control over your vaginal muscles and he was too into you to not be hugely turned on by it, shoving your legs up higher so he could go deeper, feel more of you surround him and massage his length.

“H-harder…” you whimpered. “Please, Jungkook, fuck me harder…”

And how could Jungkook say no to that? Begging so perfectly, with just the right amount of desperation, and you didn’t even know it was driving him insane, because he knew normally you were so wound up, always worrying about being perfect, always worrying about doing the right thing, but now you were unraveling on his cock as he bent down and put more force into it, pounded you harder, watching the ecstasy in your eyes, your mouth opening and tongue peeking out, hot breath in his face. Knuckles white as you clutched the sheets, pleasure radiating up his length as you came with a cry, his name, his name on those perfect lips, lips he always watched with envy, wondering who had them, wondering who was so lucky to capture them.

And now it was just him, just him and you, and his hips slapping into your hips, pussy nearly choking his cock, but it felt so good, so fucking euphoric as you fucked him back, raising your hips to meet his, loud, wet, and lewd, probably causing a ruckus next door. But neither of you cared, your names mixing together, your eyes staring to Jungkook’s piercing brown ones, hot pleasure radiating up your stomach, your chest, to your head and there was no one else.

No one else but Jungkook’s name tumbling out of your mouth as the wave soared into you, pussy spasming as you came again, unsure at what number it was, but it was the one Jungkook wasn’t prepared for and he groaned, smacking into you one last time before you felt his cock throb and pulse against your walls, spilling into the condom. You gasped at the feeling, clenching around him, his right hand reaching over to grasp yours and hold it tightly, intertwining your fingers.

“W-wow…” you whispered breathlessly. “Nice cock.”

Jungkook burst out laughing. “You’re unbelievable.” He reached down and gingerly felt around in your dripping folds, finding the end of the condom and pulling out carefully.

“Fuck. It’s so much,” he gulped, brows knitted in worry.

You waved a hand. “It’s fine. I finished my period yesterday. Likelihood of you getting me pregnant is pretty low.”

Jungkook jerked his head towards you.

“Why the fuck didn’t you say that sooner?” he roared, slapping your leg. “I was scared shitless over here!”

You placed your hands over your ears. “So loud. Shut up, Jungkook.”

“No!”

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #bts smut

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bts-hyperfixation · 3 years

Text

Drunken Confessions

BTS Reaction/scenarios - He is drunk and he needs to tell you something.

It’s over 3000 words... don’t ask how because I don’t know

Warnings: Vomit (only in Jin’s) and it isn’t graphic, binge drinking,

Namjoon - F2L

The party is in full swing

You'd lost sight of the boys ages ago, although you occasionally caught wind of Tae's dulcet tones or Jin’s windshield wiper laugh

That's why you were taken completely by surprise when your 6-foot, built like a house, best friend draped himself over your shoulders

Making you spill the drink you've been pouring

You tried to swap him away so you could clear up the mess he made but he just slides his arms down and around your waist subsequently locking your arms in place and forcing you to watch the sticky puddle spread across the desk

“I love you” he announces hugging you impossibly tighter

“I know Joon.” You laugh

“No! I looove you” he tries again

You roll your eyes

“I love you too Joon” you wriggle trying to escape his death grip

“You don't get it! He stamps his foot like a petulant child releasing you enough so you can turn in his arms

You reach up to cup his cheek and he nuzzles into the fond embrace

“Come on Joon let's take a break.”

You catch JK in the crowd and ask him to clear up the mess while you deal with a very drunk Namjoon

Inside the comfort of his bedroom you managed to get free from his clutches.

Getting all the way to the last room on the corridor had been a whole workout, especially given the fact you could only waddle

You sit down on the bed and gesture for him to join you

You lean against the headboard, and he leans on your shoulder.

You reach up to run a hand through his hair just as JK brings you 2 bottles of water he tosses them onto the bed and you mouth thank you as he backs away

You open one and take a swig before putting the bottle to his lips

“I'm not that drunk” he grumbles still taking a long sip

“uh huh”

“I'm not! I just needed a little bit more confidence than normal”

“And you found it at the bottom of a bottle”

Yeah… well… kinda” he looks miserable as he drains the last of the first bottle

“What did you need extra confidence for anyway?”

“For you dumb ass”

He sits up and in that moment he looks fully sober searching your eyes and only finding confusion

You don't have time to react before his lips are on yours

It stuns you for a moment until you sink into the embrace, the taste of alcohol washed away by the water

It’s a little sloppy as he holds your face, kissing like he has something to prove

“I love you.” He pants pulling away

“Oh”

“yeah…” he looks down into his lap, his nailbeds suddenly becoming the most interesting thing on the planet

“Joon”

“Uh huh”

“Joon!” You grab his chin to make him look up

“I love you too”

You never ended up returning to the party

Seokjin - New relationship

This is the first time you've hung out with his friends

It's beyond awkward as you both tried to navigate the new situation

Neither of you paid attention to how much alcohol had been put in front of you drink topped up frequently by the maknae line

They like to think they're helping

They are not

Jin’s tolerance turns out to be a lot lower than yours it isn't long before he is hunched over a toilet while you wait anxiously outside the door

When you hear the heaving stop you slip inside and fill the glass behind the sink to give to him

You kneel at his side rubbing soft circles into his back as you slowly tip the water into his mouth

He swallows a little then uses the rest to swell out the terrible taste left behind

“I'm sorry” he Mumbles when you stand to refill the glass

“Accidents happen Jinnie we've all been here before”

“Maybe you should leave… you shouldn't… shouldn't have to” he slurs trying to lift his head from the basin

“I'm not going to leave you like this what kind of girlfriend would I be.”

You sit back beside him, setting the water to the side and hauling his large frame into your lap

You push the sweaty hair away from his forehead smiling as his eyes closed

The worlds moving too fast his face scrunches at the thought as if he could magically stop the spinning

And if you had the power you would have done it

No questions asked

Instead you settle for putting a damp flannel across his face to cool him down and smooth his features

His eyes reopen staring straight up at you, pupils still dilated from the alcohol

You can see the moment the room stops spinning, he blinks sleepily watching you take care of him

“I'm going to marry you someday”

You giggle but he doesn't

You busy yourself stretching to cool the flannel without jostling him

He reaches for your cheek to pull your eyes back to him

“I love you”

Those are the last words you get from him before he passes out on you

Yoongi - F2L

The two of you had spent all day legs entwined on the opposite ends of the sofa in his studio

You're the only person he allows to sit and work with him on a regular basis because he knows that's all you want to do

He could trust you to not ask annoying questions or breathe too loud

Nope, you will patiently work on your own thing, providing the company he craved without the pesky social interaction

However neither of you have thought to eat since breakfast

And the sun has long since set

You pull your headphones off and signal for him to do the same

He looks annoyed and confused until you gesture at the clock on the wall

The boys made him put one up last time he did a 24-hour stint

His mouth formed a little ‘o’ as he stretched his arms over his head

“Dinner?” He suggests, placing his laptop to the side and untangling his legs from yours

You end up at the Korean barbecue place round the corner from the Hybe building

Three plates of meat and 3 bottles of soju in you start to think drinking on a mostly empty stomach was a bad idea

You are currently watching a drunk August D try to give a concert to some concerned looking uncles

He turns back to face you gummy smile lighting up his whole face, cheeks pink from the alcohol

His mood is contagious

You can't help joining him, filling in Max's parts from burn it

Having finished the latest encore Yoongi pays the bill for the entire restaurant and pulls you out into the night

He doesn't turn back towards the studio

Instead leading you to a nearby park

When he is satisfied with the spot, he lies down on the floor and stares up at the starless sky above the bright lights of Seoul

You lay next to him, and his hand finds yours intertwining your fingers

He sighs like every weight in the world has just been lifted off his shoulders

“Penny for your thoughts?” You ask rubbing little circles on his hand with your thumb

“I love you”

It's out before his brain has time to catch up with his mouth

You feel the panic as his hand tightens around yours a silent prayer that you won't pull away from him

You don't

Hoseok - Established Relationship

Ever the introspective drunk, Hobi has been sat quietly in the corner of the karaoke room since he finished second glass of wine

He watches you as you laugh and dance with the best people in his life

Watching as even timid Kookie pulls you close to belt out lyrics

You've been keeping track of him out the corner of your eye

He sometimes has a tendency to get sad if you leave him in his thoughts for too long

But tonight he has a quiet smirk on his features the entire time

Four songs later you excuse yourself from the rabble claiming strained vocal cords and go to sit on your boyfriends lap

You've lost track of what number glass of beer he is on, but he seems perfectly content if not a little sleepy

“Want to go home baby?” You ask stroking his cheek

He shakes his head a little blinking slowly “want to watch you having fun”

You lean down to press your lips to his softly hearing wolf whistles through the mikes

You lift your middle fingers to the boys simultaneously

When he realises your synchronisation Hobi starts laughing manically, returning to his regular self again

“I love you so much.” He murmurs against your lips suddenly wide awake again

“Maybe we should go home after all” he winks dragging his hand purposefully up your bare leg stopping just under the hem of your skirt

Jimin - F2?

There's nothing better than a night out on the town with your best friend

So why does Jimin look like someone just stole his favourite Gucci shirt

He was so smiley when he left you on the dance floor to go to the bathroom

Now he is glaring daggers at you from the bar across the club

Not you

The man you were dancing with to fill the time

He was probably just worried you were going to be selfish and abandoned him for a hook-up

You excuse yourself from your temporary dance partner and make your way to the disgruntled blonde

You reach him just in time to take the large tequila shot out of his hand and down at yourself

“You know you shouldn't be drinking these" you chide cringing as the alcohol stings your throat

“You're a little late” he grumbles gesturing to the tasting platter of five other shots on the bar behind him

You take his hand and lead him away from the loud club music into the smoking area

“what's gotten into you all of a sudden?” You can't help but worry something happened in the short time he'd been gone

“Nothing’s gotten into me” he gets defensive crossing his arms and refusing to meet your arms

“Come on Chim, we were having so much fun”

“You were having fun! I've been watching you grind your ass on some meathead for the last 30 minutes”

You're a little shocked at the outburst and confused over the amount of time lost

“Why did you leave me for so long?” You can't help feeling a little abandoned yourself all of a sudden

He senses you close in on yourself after the way he spoke to you

“Look, you just seemed like you were having more fun without me” he finally looks at you head on, one hand coming up to stroke your arm comfortingly

“I could never have more fun without you” you whisper part of you hoping he finally hears the pining in your voice

He doesn't

“Let's get out of here, I’ve ruined the mood now anyway and those shots are going to catch up with me soon.”

He leads you out of the club and of course he's right

He's barely coherent for the taxi ride home

You managed to hobble into his house together

You leave him sprawled out in the middle of his bed

It's not your first time fixing a drunk Jimin

You empty his trash can and place it by the bed

Raid the cabinet for paracetamol

Fetch 3 glasses of water

And carefully pull off his tight jeans

Satisfied he is settled

You go to change into an oversized tee shirt and a pair of his boxer

Your regular attire when faced with an impromptu bestie sleepover

As you walk out of the bathroom you find Jimin awake and downing water like he'd been stuck in the desert for weeks

“You look so pretty in my clothes” he slurs around the glass

He places the glass down and tries to move over so you can fit in the bed too

He almost falls out

You catch his arm just before he rolls too far pulling him back to you and cuddling close for warmth

Just as you're drifting off you think you hear him whispering to your hair kissing you softly

“I love you Y/N”

Taehyung - F2?

Such a cuddly drunk

He has been attached to you like a sloth clinging to a branch throughout the entire party

Not that you care, it's nice to have your friend so close

He spends the time between sips whispering in your ear mostly gossip and judgement of people the two of you don't particularly like

The whole night he has you giggling

It feels petty but you can't stop yourselves

“You’re so funny Tae, I love you so much.” You say between laughs.

Of course you meant it platonically

But drunk Tae didn't quite get that memo

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to say that to me!”

He launched into a monologue revealing everything he had kept inside

“I didn't think you felt like that”

“I thought it was just me!”

“This is going to be so much fun! We can go out on little dates, and I can spoil you and...”

“Actually we do all that now”

“But now we could do it as more than friends”

“I love you so much, I might explode”

You mean to interrupt his rambles, but he never takes a breath

So you just sit and watch as he gets more animated describing your future lives together

The longer he goes the more you realise maybe you didn't mean it platonically after all

Jungkook - E2L

You usually try to avoid JK like the plague

You are great friends with the rest of the boys, but you've never managed to befriend JK

In fact you were fairly certain he hated your guts

It's been years since you first found Yoongi

The first time he brought you around the others they'd all been so welcoming

Except the maknae

You've been reassured he just didn't deal well with new people

Once he got comfortable it’d be fine

Apparently he never got comfortable

So now you're at a party celebrating the boys recent string of successes

And in true BTS fashion it's not just an ordinary party

Nope this one was ‘Run!BTS’ themed

So you are standing amongst the group of idols and their friends waiting for their orders

The management team pulls out a bag filled with names and each member is summoned to pick out a card

Once each member has drawn they turn to reveal their partners

You can't help but roll your eyes when you see how annoyed JK looks to be holding your name

You open another can downing the contents before you are zip tied to the world's most obnoxious idol for the evening

The first challenge was supposed to be easy

Build a tower from toilet roll

But every time you reach in one direction, he leans the other and bulldozes your efforts with your joint wrists

Losing means shots

You take your punishment like a champ

The other boys finding this cruel twist of fate hilarious

Challenge two is a scavenger hunt

Problem is you struggle to agree on where to look first

It feels like he is trying to ignore you

Time runs out and you’re with two items to everyone else is 5

Some more shots

Challenge #3 is player trivia

The aim is to answer questions about the other person to gain points

There's no way you're winning this one

Except you do

JK knows every answer

Your birthday

Your mums name

Your first pet

Even your shoe size

He still won't meet your eyes though

Doesn't even give you a chance to ask him about it

The final challenge is hide and seek

This task is doubled in difficulty having to hide two bodies in the same place

Tripled by the fact you don't really want to be stuck in a confined space with a man that hates you

You contemplate forfeiting but JK's competitive drive has kicked in since winning the last challenge

He drags you away before you can protest

He shoves you into a cupboard you'd never noticed before, following you in and pulling the door closed

It's tiny

And he's pressed so close

Even in the dim light you can see every freckle on his nose

You're compelled by the strangest urge to trace the pattern with your fingers

And your brain is too drunk to stop you

“What are you doing?” He hisses through his teeth, grabbing your wrist

It's the first time he's looked at you directly and his eyes are just so pretty

You hear steps approaching and come back to your senses yanking your hand away

Bashing it against the wall in the process

His hand covers your mouth before you can yell in pain

“Thanks” you mumble when the steps have retreated

“You're welcome” he drags his hand away and once again refuses to look at you directly

“JK?”

“Yeah?”

“Why do you hate me?”

“He releases a long sigh

“Maybe this is the alcohol or maybe it's the game… either way I don't hate you”

His reply raises more questions than it does answers

“Then why?..”

“You can't ask me why…”

“I have every right to know why you refuse to acknowledge me”

You stamp your foot to emphasise your point

He turns to look at you properly again and size even more dramatically

“It's because you're off limits”

Yoongi hyung said none of us could date his friends… but you were pretty and funny”

You're more than shocked by the revelation

“Ignoring you seemed simple and trying not to get attached

Not that it did me any good”

You’re still not sure you're following him correctly

It sounded as if he just admitted his feelings are the exact opposite to what you thought

“I fell in love anyway, so I lashed out to deal with it”

“In love…” You breathe out

“Yeah… in love”

You're about to follow up with a million more questions when the door is wrenched open an JK fall straight on his ass

“Come on, you guys won let's get you untied before you murder one another.” Jimin winks before heading back towards the main room

Masterlist

Survey to tell me about your kinks for fun

275 notes · View notes

missgeniality · 3 years

Text

Opaline Moon (m)

“The Moon can never breathe, but it can take our breath away with the beauty of its cold, arid orb.” - Munia Khan

➺ Banner: @hobiandsprite 💕

➺ Pairing: Seokjin x Female Reader

➺ Trope: Friends to Lovers, Idol!AU

➺ Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff

➺ Rating: 18+

➺ Word Count: 11.2k

➺ Summary: You are ingrained to love Jin, right upto the blood that courses through your veins. Confessing, however, is a whole other game. So it’s a good thing you’re bad at keeping your hands to yourself, because happenstance can handle the rest.

➺ Warnings: talks about dance floor fucking, making out in the bar bathroom, fingering, pussy slapping, passing out drunk, daydreams about thigh riding, reader masturbates, they make out A LOT, neck kissing, a hickey, nipple play, some biting, cum eating (kind of, you’ll see), blowjob, protected sex!, reader and jin are corny, the hurt is real but the sex is real-er

➺ Author’s Note: My lovely, lovely moots - @taegularities, @kithtaehyung and @baepsaetan, thank you so much for betaing this and hyping it up, your comments made this fic a hundred times better! As I mentioned on the teaser, this fic took a lot out of me, but I thoroughly enjoyed writing the angst and will write more whenever the story aligns! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing, and I hope this lovable Jin reaches your heart! (ngl, in usual fashion, I will come back and edit it again, so if you see a spelling mistake, your eyes are lying to you) Do let me know what you think, your asks and comments make my day!

This is the second part of my Dress Down series, find more at it’s masterlist!

ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

Sweltering heat. Blaring traffic. Little to no sleep. Through all things wrong, one man’s thoughts wrapped around you like a cooling breeze, a shield to protect you from the vicissitudes of reality, to draw you back into all of him. Unfortunately, your reality may never see that day come to light.

Kim Seokjin.

Kim Seokjin, the man who cooked you up a greasy break-up meal at three in the morning with not a sight of discomfort, putting your needs above all.

Kim Seokjin, whose puns make you roll your eyes heavenward, half awed at how he manages to pull one out of his collection at a moment's notice, and half irked by the untimely laugh it brings out of you.

Kim Seokjin, the man who will never be yours, and you have no one to blame but yourself.

One could argue that the miscommunication that had caused this present condition was two-way. If you had stopped him, corrected him, let him know the truth… you wouldn’t have to resort to the extreme measures you’re currently entangled in. One would also say, you are trying to redeem your mistake by trying too hard. Surely, everyone and their mothers could see through your ruse.

This is the fourth time you’re visiting Jin for his BE shoot - a shoot taking place two hours away from the city, disguised under various layers of secrecy to prevent any leakage of the album concept, or Jin in general. Of course, you had been made privy to such exclusive information, because you and Jin were ‘best friends’.

Best. Friends.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Best friends. The term you coined for (and forced upon) the bond you had. The bond that was too close to sprouting into something new, something fresh, something that was filled with glimmering allure and dragged you in like quicksand. But also, it reeked of commitment, of shadows, of newness that you hadn’t felt in the longest time, and fear of already being far too deep in without even taking the first step.

The loud thrum of some internet kid’s new hit pulses through the air of the club as bundles of couples occupy the dance floor, laughing and gyrating to a song that, in your opinion, most definitely does not suit gyrating. But with enough of the weekend happy hours intake combined with hormone-riddled minds, one could very well throw it back to a church choir.

You weave through the drunken bodies, trying not to spill the precariously held three drinks in your hands, making your way to your inner circle, the only people to blame for dragging you to this slosh-fest.

“Y/N!”

Somehow Hoseok’s voice can echo across the club, but you didn’t even need his addressal because Jin’s laughter is loud enough to navigate anyone to your table. Seeing you struggle with the glasses (and mostly the crowd, with some of them living their exhibitionist dreams), Hoseok gets up to assist you.

“I swear, if I see one more couple pretending to be dancing as they rub one off of each other’s thighs, the black market will have my eyes.”

“Oh yeah?” Jin’s breathy voice interjects your black-market dreams, still bursting in short laughs from whatever sent him rolling before your arrival. “Why don’t you go join them?”

“And whose thigh is she taking, yours?” Yeji snorts out, one hand holding her nebula blue drink, the other wrapped around Hoseok, urging him to come closer. Jin’s features scrunch into a cringe, and you’re thankful for the dim lighting because the disappointment in your features does not reach them.

“The only action these leather pants are getting is in the damned laundromat,” he points to his shiny trousers, “some jerk dropped his drink on it.”

“You could be the first person to give some chick an orgasm and a yeast infection.” Hoseok giddily adds, his fifth shot clearly making a mess of his brain cells.

Jin claps and gets up to move away from the group. “Better than a pregnancy!” he yells, before zigzagging through the crowd, possibly to the restroom. He is on his third cocktail, and you’d think cocktails are lighter drinks. But in this bar, their taps just seem to flow with tequila, and it is very evident in the way Jin is currently walking.

His absence hits you harder than you think, but it might be the alcohol talking. Jin has always been the mood-maker of the group, the one who brings everyone together. Of late though, his magnetic persona has been an irritant in your life. Any outing you two take, any chance you have to come clean about the burgeoning crush you have on him, is effectively disrupted by one of his posse. And today, Hoseok and Yeji took that trophy.

“Earth to Y/N. Has the cocktail finally broken you?”

You flutter your eyes in a manic fashion, to disperse the daydream you were indulging yourself in, and bring your attention back to the couple calling for you. Surprisingly, they have stood up, Yeji emptying the last of her neon drink.

“What happened?”

“We are going to the club nearby, they have better stuff. And that’s code for ‘they actually add water to the drink and the surround sound doesn’t shatter your ear drum’.’”

She isn’t wrong. The cocktails and music here are a 19-year-old frat party dream, not something the working class can digest. But you’re tired at this point, and don’t want to be smothered by someone else’s love life when your own is down the dumps.

“You guys carry on! I’ll tell Jin where you are and he’ll meet you there!”

You watch as Hoseok and Yeji lead each other to the exit, hands circling their partner’s waist. They giggle on and on, about nothing and everything, and it only hardens the emptiness you feel inside you.

Why can’t you gather the balls to spit your feelings out? What could possibly go wrong? Yes, you may lose one of your closest friends, but is this friendship really worth the agony? The bitterness you feel when you see any couple enjoying themselves? The anger you harbor whenever Jin tells you about his dates? The heartache, when he hugs you and tells you that you’re the best thing that’s happened to him… as a friend? Is it? Your plastered brain tells you to not make any rash decisions, so you don’t, instead choosing to get up and search for your best friend.

The corridor leading to the washrooms is dimly lit, throwing a merlot filter over your eyesight, making you squint in search of your friend. You being shitfaced does not help, and while relishing in your floating wooziness, you see Jin come out, and feelings you’ve held at bay for so long slither through your currently porous defenses.

He has always been good-looking. He himself has said so a dozen times.

But wow.

His hair lays messily atop his beautiful face, unkempt, like a breeze of beauty swept across his mighty looks and displaced every strand, causing disarray, but even the disarray only frames his superior looks and adds to its potent charm. The black, patchy sweater hanging loose off his broad shoulders makes you feel things you shouldn’t feel as a friend. That stupid gut of yours is currently screaming, yelling for all hands on deck, trying to block all the feelings from gushing in and sending you into overdrive.

By the time you can gather yourself to stop from giving in to those dangerous thoughts, Jin has crossed the distance between you, coming close, too close. Chocolate-brown eyes peer into your soul, searching for whichever fantasy you chose to lose yourself in. His eyes flit down to notice your rumpled dress that has found its way a couple of inches above its designated spot. His gaze returns to yours, but not without a newfound hardness, an almost steely glaze over the kindness that you usually find in the chocolate pools, accentuated under the garnet lighting.

“Hey, umm…” You beg for a reprieve, from your thoughts, from your filthy mind, from the way he is eyeing your cleavage, or just for the burning between your legs. You’re about to make some serious mistakes, you can feel it down to your bone.

You’re far too overdressed.

You knew it when you were in the process of getting dressed, but right now, you feel it much more - you look like a shiny disco ball orbiting amidst the plethora of loose tees, leggings and flannels. Everything screams comfort, because the amount of work they’re putting into this begs for it.

The strappy lace sundress you wear is extremely out of place, the halter-neck tie behind your neck fastened a little looser than necessary, giving your breasts the exposure they deserve, a nice valley view. Your dress skirt, adorned with pretty frills and dainty flowers, cut across your thigh to frame your petite hips. You are one floppy sun hat away from an extravagant Greek cruise - and in the moment you wish you had one to hide your face in shame.

You’re just out here, trying to escape the zone.

“Oh, would you look at the time, it’s tits out Tuesday already?”

Your eyes roll before Sanghoon even finishes his sentence, because you wouldn’t expect anything else from him. On the team of the set design, he is carrying a whole drapery worth of plush, mauve curtains, struggling with the slipping fabric. But apparently not struggling enough to stop him from getting his nose into your business, it seems.

“Literally not even a time you just mentioned. Can’t get one thing right.” You can’t stop yourself from stretching a hand out to feel the curtain fabric, the satiny sheets begging to be touched. Before you can though, Sanghoon moves away, not allowing you to shift the focus of the conversation.

“Don’t steer away from the facts. Your tits.”

“That’s the fact?”

“They’re out.” He bucks up, trying to point with the hand stuffed underneath all the cloth. “That’s the fact.”

“Ugh, can’t a girl dress up once in a while?” The pointed attention makes you uncomfortable, because everything he’s insinuating is true. With every passing staff member, you count a new shade of grey, interspersed with occasional blacks and greens, a stark contrast to your floral overtones. Amidst the thousand footsteps taken in your vicinity, only yours are pointed heels, echoing across the studio with every clack. But you’re a stubborn one, refusing to give in to his totally valid argument. “I just woke up early.”

“Girl.” Like light through frosted glass, he sees through your bullshit, but only partially. “You put an alarm to dress up? I have nightmares of the boss brandishing her whip and telling me to get into position, and even that doesn’t wake me up.”

“Have you ever considered… not announcing your kinks to everyone and their sisters?”

“Ehh,” he simply shrugs, “nothing is new when you’ve serenaded your boss drunk in a karaoke bar and still managed to keep your job. Wait. Is that highlighter?”

“Stop staring into my tits!” You can’t believe you got caught, but also, who can you blame? After testing this outfit out from the crack of dawn, you decided your cleavage needed some extra help. Three YouTube tutorials and one TikTok lady - who make it look far easier than it is - down, the contouring brought out the swell of your breasts, and against the light fabric of your dress, it does look too good to be true.

Memories of that night in the bar come in billows and waves, of how enamored Jin was with the way your boobs looked at that time. Even under the dingy lighting, in the cramped space, under heavily inebriated scrutiny, you couldn’t miss the flicker of heat in his gaze every time it passed your chest.

One thing led to another, and it was a cascade none of you could stop. The heat of attraction between you two does not help your wandering mind, and the fever drowns the knowledge that what you’re feeling is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, crossing some lines that can never be mended back again. With the proximity, his musky scent invades whatever defenses you were trying to patch, piercing through all your inhibitions and you pull him into you, claiming his lips to be yours.

With his wobbly knees and your wobbly heels, you somehow find your way to the washroom - mostly he does, you give in halfway to wrap your legs around his lean waist, his sturdy legs balancing your weight on them as your back hits the wall, and his lips tear down your walls.

“You look so fucking sexy today,” between bated breaths and indulgent sighs you confess, “just driving me nuts.” Letting your hands drag along his abdomen, feeling the ups and downs of his abs, you attempt to rid him of the sweater that’s been on your hit list all night. But to your dismay, your endeavor is blocked, when Jin gathers your wrists in his palm, turning you around to bend you over on the countertop, the smooth marble chill hitting your braless chest, perking your nipples under the cold.

“And you?” Jin bends to give your earlobe a languid lick, progressing very slow, a complete contrast to the movement of his hips as he ruts against your ass, your already short dress bunching up with every move. “You think it’s smart to have your tits torment me like this?” Grabbing a handful from behind, he tests the weight of each fleshy mound, and by now you are certain your perked nubs can pierce his palm.

His free hand, not yet torturing you, decides to get in on the action and disappears under the counter, swiftly crossing the bunched fabric of your dress, gaining easy access to your pussy. The cold touch of his pads sears against the heat of your core, finding your pleasure button and languidly fiddling with it, with no intention to cross you over the brink in sight. The only pleasure you can indulge in is the reflection of him abusing your nipples, pinching and tugging them down, whispering filthy words into your ear as he takes in your fucked out countenance.

You feel lacking, weak hands balancing your dizzy self, finding purchase to keep you upright - but you’re both drunk on alcohol and hypnotized by his beauty to do much more than stare at his mirrored counterpart. “For fuck’s sake, kiss me.”

How he understood your slurred words, you don’t know, but you are glad he did. In a moment you’ve been displaced, the hurried motion sending your neurons into a flurry. Once your back meets the hard marble, and your eyes have the privilege to see his, you pull him in closer, the force enough to hold you against the wall while your legs wrap around his lean waist.

Originally not a fan of drunken misadventures, that side of yours is strangely mute to the going current onslaught. Well, you don’t have much breath left to say anything, because Jin is efficiently stealing it all, his teeth clashing with yours as you engage in the messiest kiss ever known to mankind (or at least, to you). He changes pace often, dragging his tongue leisurely against your lower lip, conveying tacit words, just to switch it up with a sharp bite and reel you in.

One corner of your senses can feel his fingers messing around your cunt, and playing with the wetness your thong can barely contain. It makes you shudder, the damage that his fingers can cause solely circling around your hole.

“Fuck me.”

In your drunken stupor, you don’t know if the words leave you right, but you get confirmation when his long fingers finally penetrate your cunt, giving your walls something to clench on - although nothing could possibly compare to what you imagine you can get from his dick.

“God, you feel that grip,” he grunts, with two of his fingers in you, and Jin’s smile is the most sinister you’ve ever seen. “I think we should take this home,” is what his lips utter, but his fingers delve deeper, searching for the spot that crumbles you. The base of his palm grinds against your throbbing clit, and you are forced to bite down on this sweater, lest an embarrassingly loud moan escapes you and cues outsiders into your filthy doings.

“Now,” you half-hiss, half-growl as you grab the cusp of his legs to feel his half-hard erection grow under the pressure of your hand. Your palm sliters up just to go down again, this time without the blockade of his pants, but you are stopped short of success when Jin’s fingers slip out of you to give you a sharp swat.

“Stubborn, aren’t we? Can’t fucking wait,” he whispers into your ear, and as he envelops your lobe with his cushiony lips, he continues, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

No, no, no.

Your brain rejects logic, chews and spits it out before any of the rationale seeps into you. You have wanted this for far too long. The need inside you for a meaningful relationship materializes in the form of recklessness, desperately looking for surface-level relief for the moment. A night of sewing sutures to your battle-worn heart, stitches that may come off at the slightest strain - but right now, that will do.

“Please, Jin,” your tantalizing tone riles up his cock again, eagerly waiting for your next words, “can’t you feel me dripping? Come on, I can take you.”

“Fuck, hear that wetness.” He lets his palm slap against your sopping entrance, not stopping with one. With every slap, droplets of your arousal splash out, the insides of your thighs coated in the sticky sweetness, but your body is an endless reservoir producing plentiful more for Jin to play with. “Have you been sitting with this all this time?”

Two long fingers invade your channel again, leaving you with no response other than a gasp. They scissor incessantly, preparing you for what could be the railing of your lifetime. One curl inside and his fingertips hit the spot he was looking for, making you warp your body to take the pleasure coursing through your veins. His tongue seems to mimic the actions, looping around your earlobe as he sucks it inside, both ends of your body engulfed in all the attention he could provide.

Your cunt is weeping against the assault of this man’s hands, tears of your cum flowing down your legs with every pump of his arm. You are getting there, the sweet swell of release inching closer and closer.

But something doesn’t feel right.

The tightness in your belly, that is to a point caused by Jin, is harboring other sensations that are not entirely pleasant. Maybe you’re anxious about the happenings. Maybe you haven’t had a good orgasm in a while and have just forgotten how this thing works.

Or maybe, the bar should have the water tap actually give out water.

Either your eyes close, or your brain does, but suddenly all you can see is darkness.

Again, you are just trying to escape the zone.

“Step under those studio lights,” pointing at the too-bright stage lights being set up at the moment, Sanghoon continues, breaking your daydream, “I bet you could signal to aliens with the booby-reflection. Call them to Netflix and chill.”

“In about five seconds, my heel will be puncturing your eye. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

Sanghoon’s drivel was cut short, and so were your murder plans, with his entry. “Oh look, he’s on set. Gotta go!”

It’s like the lights, earlier threatening to burn away your skin, dim down in reverence of the glow of his face. The twinkle of his eyes when they meet yours. The shine of his smile when he throws you one. The vibrance of his tone when he calls out your name. Everything he does now threatens to burn you whole and it’s a wonder you’re not scalding, but the singe hurts you deep inside.

“Y/N! How do I look?” It’s a bathrobe. Like satin, or silk. Fucking hell, your brain could explode with the adjectives coming up, a whole chunk of them very much inappropriate to utter out in the current scene. Your arms want to rise, engulf him into you, and you have to physically halt the muscles from doing anything stupid. Brain, quick! Say something snarky and spicy, as best friends do!

“What’s the theme, unicorn puke?” The safest way to deflect is to attack. So you do just that. “You look like you dressed out of Hannah Montana’s closet. Which if it's true, I really need to see it. There’s a top that I’ve been eyeing for decades!”

“Don’t say decades.” Jin’s eyes crinkle in humor. “Makes me feel so old. Your dress is pretty cool too!”

Cool.

You find out how difficult life can be when you count every single minute of yours. So far, you have counted 4,310 minutes. That is two days, twenty-three hours, and fifty minutes. Ten more minutes and it will be three whole days since you and Jin spoke.

Yet again, you can’t blame him. When you came to the next day, you were in your bed, clad in the same shimmering silver bodycon that you had donned last night. The same one that had been privy to the colorful deeds you had committed in what was a dreary, colorless setting.

One ibuProfen and ginger ale, downed with some severe recollections of the previous night, and you had been ready to throw it all up again.

I don’t want to hurt you.

Words couldn’t describe what you were going through, and numbers weren’t invented to count the endless thoughts racing in your brain. You don’t know what is more upsetting. The fact that you actually had a chance to open your heart and you totally let your pussy think instead? Or that he was the one coherent enough to stop you from getting too far, and you let your desperation get the best of you? Everything about that night was wrong. And all the wrongs lie on your side.

I don’t want to hurt you.

In the moment, it was physical, he had to have meant that. But there was a tremor in his voice, you can remember clear as day, a slightly shaken side of him had emerged through the intoxication, and the words he had breathed were not shallow. There was a gravity to them, that you’d stupidly ignored in the heat of the moment.

And now, here you are. Counting up till the last minute, after which you can effectively call the friendship ruined. Stirring your tea mindlessly, you try to focus on the show on TV, the variety show comedy not striking the usual funny bones that they could 4,311 minutes ago.

The programmed ding of your phone bursts your thought bubble, a sound you have missed the past 72 hours. The ring you dedicated to Jin, that always had you running to receive because anything he sends brightens your day. But unlike those happier times, this ring has your gut fall into a pit of despair, struggling to choose between dispersing the suspense or remaining blissfully unaware of the damage you caused.

Jin: Free tmrw? We could grab coffee Jin: And talk

Talk. How? You barely remember what went down, save for fleeting moments that you recollected with great difficulty. Your fingers type back, trying to mimic the nonchalance in his text, that is very much absent in your actual demeanor.

Y/N: Sure. Paik’s at 1? Jin: Yup. See ya

Three texts, zero laughs. Of course, you’re not expecting him to land his jokes in this situation, even someone as talented as he can’t flip this tension. You’re just going to have to wait for tomorrow, when he decides whether you have a place in his life or not.

The painstakingly worn outfit, accessorizing the whole look, the straps of your heels digging into your toes, the specks of makeup dust lying stale on your collar bones, the shine faints at that word. Cool. A perfectly normal phrase for a normal friendship. You are left maimed, while he absent-mindedly tends to the rope of his robe, blissfully unaware of the cyclonic emotions churning inside you. All you can possibly do is gulp it down.

He runs his hands through his hair, beautiful locks coming out of place, and from one corner of the set, a groan of anguish emerges.

“Oppa! Don’t play with your hair and face.” A masked lady runs forward waving combs that look like artillery, “We just got done setting it!”

Some finger guns, a happy apology, and some silly jokes later, all the stylists merrily round up to undo his doing, and Jin signals to you to catch up later. And as he walks away, the strings tugging at your heart reappear, as they do every time you come to meet him.

You have a masochistic streak in you, putting yourself through this every day, when he had made it clear, that you two never stood a chance.

As if things aren’t already difficult, he looks like a dream.

Soft, snowy skin gleaming like it has personal lighting wherever it goes, you get flashes of the rarely witnessed sweat on his skin, from the ferocity of last night. He’s blowing away the foam of his cappuccino, and tiny bubbles float into the air before falling flat on the table, like an animated shine that follows him along. God has His favorites, and God makes sure all the lighting in the world is perfect for these favorites.

In no hurry, you wait at the counter to get your latte. After receiving it though, you can’t linger any longer and drag yourself to the table of doom.

“Hey.”

If the rasp in your voice is evident, he doesn’t show any recognition on his face. But you’ve learned to never trust an acting major.

“Hi. How are you doing?”

Inadvertently, a snicker escapes your lips. “Are you interviewing me for a job?” you joke, trying to disperse the heavy air, filled with unspoken words. “If so, at least know that I’m very expensive.”

The familiar windshield wiper laugh does not greet you. Dead silence does. The half-smirk he painfully gives you is heavy, and the furrowed brows haven’t an inkling of joy. It shoots daggers in your heart, to know that you are the reason for this jolly man’s despondency.

“Listen, I don’t think we should skirt around the issue too much. It happened, these things happen. You think Hoseok and Yeji didn’t have sex before making it official?”

His matter-of-fact nature isn’t new to you. Jin has always been a very practical man. Regardless of his inane sense of humor, his logical point of view has always been flawless.

But right now, at this very moment, logic isn’t what you are looking for. You are looking for answers, but as far withdrawn from logic as possible, to take the edge off of the tension-laden air that surrounds your table.

“Yeah, but even… unofficially… we aren’t a thing, right?”

Your abrupt question takes Jin unaware, almond eyes widening, like a toddler caught in an act.

“No, no! Of course not! I would never!”

His confession slips out with an ease that hurts you, digs deep to carve out the part of you that dreamt of anything more. Your eyes fall to your knees to avoid his perceptive gaze, the sting clear as the sky on a summer day.

You force a smile and continue. “Then there’s no issue. Anyway,” you gulp your coffee down, burning your throat, but it's a distraction from the burning inside, “I need to get to work. Anything else?”

He’s still searching you, for what, you can’t possibly fathom. From the looks of it, he should be happy with this homeostasis; he doesn’t even know what this means for you. To still stay suspended in limbo, not being able to move up or down, to continue having thorns digging into your beating soul as you watch him like nothing bothers your already frail feelings. Scene by scene, you can visualize the future, him distancing himself from you as he finds the one he calls his, with you left in the shadows. Your knees tremble in fear of the impending future.

Seeing you in a tizzy, he calls out, the voice too loud for the cafe and your mind’s prison cage.

“We’re still best friends, right?” If you knew better, you’d say his expression is that of sadness, of regret. But your judgment is clouded with your own bothers, and you interpret it as a look of pity. Like a lovesick puppy, kicked to the streets, with nowhere to call home.

“Yeah! Always.” You give it as much enthusiasm as you can muster.

Best friends.

Ropes wind around your heart, tugging and causing the deep ache that sets in as you walk back into your dreary building. Each string pulls you into a different dimension where you could move on, where you could be okay with the setting you had just agreed to. Where you would keep up your end of the promise and truly remain friends with him.

But no matter how strong the tug, your heart never yields, never lets go of the castle of dreams you built, staying steadfast in its own misery, choosing to hope, choosing to live the life of unrequited love.

“And that’s a wrap! Good job everyone!”

Applause and hurrays echo across the set to bring you back to the present. The shoot has officially concluded, which means it's time for your most favorite and least favorite part of the day - Jin and you doing best friend things, like grabbing lunch, gossiping about obnoxious coworkers, threatening to disembowel each other (in Mortal Kombat, of course) and other friendly activities.

Ever so respectful, Jin takes his time thanking every member of the set, regardless of whether they moved a cushion or held the reflector screen for hours. All the women gush over his beauty, reminding him of how, even amidst the glowing ornaments, his face was the brightest. His responses vary, from quiet little giggles, to complimenting the crew for making it happen, to straight up owning his charisma like a boss. That’s your man.

Well, not quite. Not one bit.

After exhausting the handshakes and hugs to be received, Jin walks to you, hands pushing his robe back to give it a cape like effect. You’re just glad that the man’s child persona still stays with him, no matter the situation. He guides you to his green room, cracking his bones on the way, (very sexily, might you add).

“Holding a pose for that long gives me cramps! You’d think dancing breaks my back, and you’d be wrong.”

You’re desperately avoiding looking at his fingers, and keep your eyes below them - shoot! His ceaseless stretching gives you a glimpse under his shirt - it is dragging your memories back to the last time you saw them, and you’d rather not. It is hurting you in more ways than one.

Eye contact is your safest bet. Looking up, you give him a lopsided grin. “Your grandfatherly days are approaching, Jinnie.”

“Hey!”

The rest of the conversation was less speaking, more yelling and chasing after each other to the green room, Jin taking mock-offence at your jab at his age, and his fingers reaching out to flick your forehead in retort. In your noisy, messy fashion, you both finally enter the room, dim gold light bulbs and shiny mirrors meeting your huffing self.

One hand on your knee, you hold on to Jin’s arm with your other, gasping for breath.

“Your grandmotherly days are already here, Y/N,” he snorts, and earns a kick on the shin, but that doesn’t stop him from bursting into snickers.

“Wow, why does one man need 4 mirrors?” You gape at his current green room, mouth wide open. It looks better than your entire apartment, with the counter carrying top-of-the-line makeup products. Only the best for this man. “So you can admire yourself from 4 different angles?”

Jin has disappeared into one of the inner rooms, but you can hear him snort at your comment. “Come on, I’m not that conceited. When the whole crew shoots together, the extra mirrors help.” The last part of that sentence is muffled, and that cues you into an important fact.

Jin is currently changing into something more comfortable.

A process that includes him getting naked.

Well maybe he doesn’t get fully naked, top on, top off, bottom on, bottom of-

Still. You’re sweating like a whore in church.

And things only get tougher when he finally comes out.

The ocean blue sweater he dons is tucked in. Who tucks in sweaters? Kim Seokjin. Why does he tuck sweaters? Oh, because he’s got an amazing waistline that he should most definitely show off, and the heat between your thighs becoming increasingly potent is a testament to that. You pretend to adjust your heels, giving the right expressions to show you’re in pain, but in actuality you are bringing your legs closer to get you some relief, just any relief.

Ripped jeans too. You get a peek of the thighs you were denied access to the night of the fuckening. Ridged and beautiful, not a speck in sight to mar his perfection. You are glad the facial expressions for pain and pleasure are not far apart, because your thighs, albeit very lacking, are helping the imagery in your head. Just Jin, seated on one of these leather chairs, and you straddling his thigh, clit aching against the strands of the rips in his denim, the fabric soaking up the wetness, with every push forwa-

“Now that you mention it, I do look dashing.”

And there goes that dream.

You pinch his cheeks in adoration, the vulgarity of your thoughts getting whitewashed by his silliness and blooming heart-shaped flowers in their stance. You feel your own pinch in you, wondering if this scene would be the same had you blurted your feelings out that day at the cafe.

It's times like these when you remind yourself why you choose to quieten that side. This dynamic cannot reincarnate in any other form. Any imbalance to this equilibrium could cause a serious case of best-friends-turn-awkward-acquaintances, and you don’t know if that’ll hurt you more than you currently do. You don’t plan on finding out.

But on God, he tests that resolution every single day.

Jin doesn’t even hint that he knows of the turmoil blasting behind your eyes. He nonchalantly fixes his hair, gives you a one-over as you are mentally undressing him, nonchalantly as well. Then he moves to grab his cologne, and two spurts disintegrates all the whitewashing and takes you back into the obscenities you were unfolding.

“So I’ll just go over the shoot photos, and then we can leave! You’re cool waiting here?”

“Hmmn, yeah!” You don’t let your mouth run any longer, fearing what might slip out.

He gives you a wide, innocent smile. “Great! See you in a bit.” Poor guy. If only he knew how debase plans you were conjuring just from the aroma of his cologne.

It is musky, like cedar or pine, perfectly suiting him. It is the same scent you remember inhaling, face stuffed in his sweater when he was fingering you to the tenth circle of hell. As he walks away, the fragrance diminishes, save for the slightest hint of lingering. You search for the source, and find the culprit strewn across the sofa.

The outfit Jin wore for the shoot held remnants of the perfume, and when you bring the shirt close and take a long, deep whiff, you transport yourself to the land of your dreams. You relish the fever smell of his cologne, mixed with his own natural scent, deciding that this is what you wish to smell like every waking morning.

Your longing for him has crossed way beyond physical boundaries. You longed for his love, longed for his attention. Longed to be the one that brings the light to his face. From morning rays to the darkness of the night, you wanted to experience it all by his side. To be his lone star, shining bright beside the moon.

Your hands are moving without your control, disrobing you of your thirst trap of a dress and putting on Jin’s shirt instead. One look at the mirror and you let out a silent groan - it fits you just right. Just enough to cover your ass cheeks, loose enough to let the air conditioning hit your heated pussy. While well-fitting shirts have never been the cornerstone of a successful relationship, your delusional mind takes whatever wins it gets.

Adding layers to your pipe dream, you don the robe that gave you a tough time throughout the shoot. When you press the tails of the robe to your cheek, the softness of the material is soothing. Soft, like Jin’s eyes, like his hugs, like his smile. Like him.

Leaning against the counter, you steady yourself, mind split in titillation. Your fingers find their own path, drawing circles on your breasts over his shirt, imagining Jin’s long fingers in place. While teasing your nipple to pointed peaks, you slip your other hand under your panties, trying very hard to mimic his digits, twiddling your clit between your fingers. Alas, the effect isn’t achievable, because Jin seems to know how to play you better than yourself.

The scent is getting stronger, without any provoking, and it is doing wonders for your immersion. You let out a loud moan when your fingers press inside, and you’re just glad no one can witness this.

“Y-Y/N?”

Fuck.

You are pulled away from your dreamland that was so impenetrable that you didn’t hear Jin step into the room. All the blood gushing to your nether regions has made a U-turn to flood your brain to think of a plausible explanation for this position. Instead it makes you giddy, and when you try to stand you wobble in your heels, to be rescued by what you think is a very scandalized Jin.

Time stands still when your eyes meet, and what you see are blown out pupils trembling, many questions fluttering between you two. Jin crosses a tenth of the distance between you, lips flutter as they try to make a decision - do they want to part and give way to the voice of question? The voice of reason? The voice that will break this hush, burst this bubble where he has the one chance to give in to his longing?

You bring your lips closer, and cause immense disquiet in his dome, the way of his heart gathering speed against rationale. Your eyes dance between matching his gaze and finding his lips, every fraction of an inch you cross sending tremors through you. You can feel the shockwaves traverse through your body, making a pitstop at your lips, tingling them awake. They move downwards, passing your heart, beating it wildly against its cage, and then to the pit of your stomach to tighten in anticipation; finally reaching the tip of your toes, where you stand right now, a nanoscopic distance between you. Each one of you is afraid to cross the bridge, unaware of the other’s desires.

Finally, Jin acqueises and meets you on your side.

Atomic explosions ring through your head, clearing out every single thought that is not about Jin’s lips on yours. The ropes that held your heart from beating to the tune of your want, they’ve loosened their knots to give you the leeway to love freely. As your lips exchange positions, his teeth lightly drag across your plush petal, and it brings back the most important part of that night that you couldn’t recollect - the one where his lips sang wordless songs of adoration against yours. Blind as a bat, you were.

You dig your fingers into his hair, not minding your residual arousal coating his locks, and you feel his hands doing the same to you. With your eyes closed, you feel a rough edge to his cushiony soft lips, but Jin fixes that mistake - one stray strand of hair trapped in the middle of your indulgence - he pulls it away to give you all of the kiss. The hand tucked in your tresses pushes in, silently demanding more access, and you’re nothing but ready to give it.

His tongue sneaks in to play a game with yours - when you seek it, it goes into hiding, finding perfect pleasure in soft, sweet kisses, but when you stay, it comes back in, awakening your tongue to deepen again. Everything he is doing is too much and not enough in one go, and you whine into his mouth in desperation, seeking some well-earned relief after months of holding back.

Amidst the flurry of your lips, your back hits the vanity countertop, and Jin pushes away everything on top to make space for you, not caring what expensive item flies down the counter to accommodate your ass.

As if you’ve made up for the months of holding back, the softness of the kisses erodes, teeth coming into play more and more, reminiscent of the night that went by in a blur. He swallows every mewl you give in return, blissed out beyond repair, your neediness making his cock strain against the denim.

His hand snakes down, spreading his fingers to get a hold of your back to push you towards him, covering any gap that dared to intervene. Now unworried about the shoot, your hands have effectively ruined his perfectly placed locks and messed them up to resemble the craze he let you spin in.

Before he can glide his tongue back in, you break the kiss, lest you lose yourself in it to the point where you forget to breathe. With attached foreheads, you take deep drags of air, letting the oxygen flow to your brain before you make some ill-advised, unclarified decisions.

“I- I was jus-”

“Shhh. Wait,” he breathes out, wanting to take a second and fully savor the moment. You nod in return, making his head move along with yours.

After sufficient air fills his lungs, Jin starts. “Y/N, we should stop.”

Last time this had happened, you had tried to force your way through his barrier, without giving his feelings a second of consideration. So this time, you don’t repeat your mistakes. “Tell me why.”

“Because, I don’t know what you’re looking for, but I’m way deeper in this than you think.”

“Jin, I-”

“Let me finish.” He stops you before you can explain how much you reflect his emotions, possibly more. He doesn’t seem to want to listen now. “Let me finish, or else I’ll chicken out, for the millionth time.”

You’re dumbfounded. Millionth time? When was the first? Acting majors, by God.

“I love you, Y/N.”

No, now you are dumbfounded. Your hands, holding his precious locks, drop down in shock, at sheer disbelief that all this time, he has been ready and waiting to return you the favor. Jin though, misinterprets it as a look of disdain.

“I-I know I do, and I’m sorry that I do. I know you don’t feel the same way. You can hate me all you want, but this is the truth.”

“And yes,” he continues, refusing to halt for even half a second, afraid that the courage he mustered to confess would dissipate the moment he does, “I’m attracted to you, and I don’t know what went down here --” flicking his wrist to mention your (his) outfit, “--but I’m looking, okay? And I’m hard as fuck. But that’s not all there is to it.”

“I need all of you.” He takes an audible gulp, trying to stymy his emotions from overpowering him. “I want to take you out, I want to hold you hand, I want to bring you to all the places I love. I want to introduce you to people, not as my best friend, but so much more than that. It hurts me,” bringing his hand to his chest, he emphasizes the point of pain by clutching over his heart, “hurts to call you that because I’m lying through my fucking teeth.”

You break eye contact, because there are tears smarting your eyes at his heartfelt revelation. You can’t believe the idiot that you have been all this while. The man of your dreams stands in front of you, baring his soul, and you can’t even do him the decency of telling him what you felt yourself before jumping his bones.

And you love him, too. Maybe you haven’t said so, even to yourself, but you’ve known all this while.

You love him.

“If you are just looking for a fuck, or want any sort of a ‘benefits’ situation, we should stop. I can’t lie to myself anymore.”

“Jin, my God,” you half-sigh, half-laugh, feeling a burden lift off of you after months of pining.

“You don’t have to pacify me, it’s okay, I’ll be fine.” Even in this moment, he is looking out for you. His lips are curved upward to show you that he’s okay, but his pupils are shaky and restless, not in sync with his smile. You hope your next words can fix that for him.

“Pacify you? Hate you?” You shoot him an incredulous look, one you will explain to him very soon. “You are a much better person than I am, Jinnie. For months now, I’ve loved you, but even at this point, I didn’t stop to tell you.” The guilt of letting your hormones cloud your judgement for the second time lays heavily on your conscience. “I’m sorry for not making this clear earlier, but let me now. I love you, Kim Seokjin. I have for way too long. I want you, I need you. You have me, in every possible way.”

It feels unparalleled to get that off your chest. The leaden weight of your emotions immediately disappears - or the fact that it's shared, makes it much, much lighter. But then you look at Jin, and he still seems to have not put two and two together. You patiently wait for him to process all the information.

When he finally recoups, he yells, “What?!”

You let out a loud guffaw, the first one with no inhibitions in the longest time. “What?”

“Why didn’t you say anything that day at the cafe?!”

“You said you’d never date me, asshole!” You punch his chest softly, before slipping your hands behind him and pulling him closer. “I might not look like it, but I have some dignity.”

“I said that?” Jin brings one hand to pinch his nose in annoyance. “What an idiot. I think I was just inverting everything to make sure I don’t accidentally slip up.”

You lift your head to meet his eyes again, letting him see the tears you were hiding. You find a couple in his eyes, too. But the smile on your face is genuine, and that is all that matters. “I was blind too, so don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Flitting your eyes down to find the contour of his cock against his jeans, you ask him innocently, “How about we make up for lost time?”

“Fuck, yes, please.” And with that, your lips are engulfed again.

When you have all your guards down, the kiss tastes sweeter than before. Mere moments ago, while thoroughly enjoying the kiss, a sense of reticence had clouded your pleasure, holding you back from luxuriating in the headiness. A series of what-ifs had plagued your subconscious without your realization, but with all that cleared, you wholly submit to the kiss, emptying your mind until nothing but his name remains.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Jin gasps out, when you bite into his pillowy lower lip, “I thought you looked the prettiest in the dress earlier but,” after pulling away, he drinks your current attire in, “you look the most beautiful in this.”

You snicker. “Even more than World Wide Handsome?”

His eyes bore into yours, no hint of the joking lilt he always carries in them.

“So much more.”

Your hands find their place amidst his shaggy hair again, and you lodge his face into your neck - a command Jin acquiesces to with great pleasure. After a long, wet lick to your collarbone, he lays feather-soft kisses on the trail he left, starting from your shoulder and working inward, until he brushes against the back of your ear. You grasp at his sweater, because his lips feel so good. Your breaths are short, sucking in every time he allows your skin the luxury of a soft peck. Once he lays a kiss on your forehead, he brings his gaze down to one of the main reasons that causes his cock to stir.

“Fuck, look at your nipples under my shirt.”

Gazing down, you can see the two pointed peaks that caught Jin’s eyes.

“That tends to happen when I’m thinking of you.”

He twists a nipple over the shirt, hardening it further, and you throw your head back in the satisfying pain. “Yeah, I remember.”

You are unraveling every second, the ache swishing amongst the bliss his fingers are bringing in you. He’s switched over to drawing circles around your nipple, until he snaps and tugs your shirt up, finally revealing the palmfulls of flesh awaiting his hands.

“Ah that night, I didn’t get to do this. Take this off.” But then, he makes you put on his robe again. You throw him a questioning look, to which he responds with a sheepish smile, “Just so, you know… you don’t feel cold… or something.”

“Just say you like me in your clothes and move on.”

“I love you in my clothes,” he admits in a heartbeat, his expression that of anguish, “can we move on?”

“God, gladly.”

Unexpectedly, he bites the side of your boob - not hard at all, but feeling his teeth against your skin sends your head reeling backward. Your involuntary response is to wrap your legs around his waist, grinding your core against him. His teeth continue to nip you lightly across the expanse of your breasts, the trail of saliva he leaves cooling parts of your flushed body. Finally, finally, he latches onto your left nipple and gives it a long, pleasurable suck.

“Ahh, Jin - you’re too - God damn it - you’re too good at this.”

Without stopping the onslaught he is unleashing on your breasts, his fingers begin to move - but soon, they stop, hesitation rippling off of their tips. His pace falters, and his mind is fighting on the next course of action.

“Can I-”

“Finish what you started that night?” you complete for him, already prepared with your answer. “Yes, please.”

All forms of uncertainty shoot out of his touch, and he confidently trudges forward. Playing with the band of your panties, he gives you a well-intended chuckle, murmuring, “As far as I remember, I was so good you passed out.”

“Boy,” You groan, intended in jest, but his teeth slide against your jaw and it mostly comes out more wanton than jovial, “let me see you have tequila for dinner and remember much the next day.”

“Fair fair,” he gives in, shifting to buss the valley of your cleavage, feeling your heart thud against your ribs holding it in place. “Well today,” he starts without moving his face, his nimble fingers moving past the barrier of your underwear, pressing two fingertips directly on your clit, and hissing like it's him at the receiving end, “I’ll give you enough to remember.”

You pull his sweater off and chuck it away, not wanting to be reminded of any blockades that kept you apart, and your hands roam the expanse of his back remembering the touch of his skin from the night at the bar. His body isn’t new to you, but the circumstances make it feel different.

Finally, his fingers find their way inside you.

Yes, this. This was what was missing from your drunken tryst. With your heads in place, your ardor intensifies, and you move his lips back to yours needing to release your animalistic desire into his mouth. Pleasure surges through both of you as you threaten to swallow him whole.

You can feel him being more present, and considering the merciless finger-fucking you had earned that night, this is taking it to a whole other degree.

The night at the bar, his fingers did their best to ravish you, but now, Jin is paying attention, close attention to the way you respond. Every muscle movement is recorded in him as you struggle to accommodate three of his lengthy digits. Leaning close, he gives your peaked nipple the lightest feather lick - the suddenness sends shockwaves through you as he continues to tweeze the other, talented pianist hands performing his musical piece on both ends of you.

His fingers pump into you with determination, finding new depths to explore that he missed out on, and with a curl of his pointer, you blank out, screaming in the orgasm that is washing over you. Every skincell of your body feels the quiver of lust spreading, your cunt squeezing for an eternity, milking the orgasm out to the extent that you can.

When you look down, your metaphorical orgasmic flood manifestes as a deluge of your arousal leaking on the table. And when you look back up, you can see the salacious ideas making their rounds in Jin’s head as he looks at the inundation you released.

Hurried hands still convulsing from the intensity of your orgasm, you undo his belt, followed by his jeans and finally - getting the pleasure you were heartlessly denied of - his cock is out, in all its glory, twitching as the cool air hits its naked skin. Jin’s plans don’t go hand in hand with yours though.

“Are we just - holy fucking shit - just, umm, leave that to waste?” he lustfully looks down to your leaking core, and someway, through your hold on his dick, he tries to steer you into his plans.

“I don’t know about that,” you cheekily reply. You have the right idea to satisfy both of you, and get down to the task.

With the flat of your palm, you swipe across the droplets of cum you released, gathering them to transfer them onto his thick length. Jin thrusts into your hand, the wetness jolting him into attention, and he places an arm on your shoulder to steady himself.

“You’re going to taste yourself?” he asks as you continue your vacillating motion, twisting at the base of his head with the wetness you graciously provided yourself. You give him a nonchalant look, something he is trying to do to you as well.

“Who said I’m gonna suck you off?”

His look changes, and the one you get in return is cocky, arrogant, downright rude if you were honest. You expected him to play on with your banter, but one raised eyebrow and the lazy smirk he gives, to what he probably thinks is a joke - Zeus could land on earth and not be able to stop you from gobbling his meat.

Your mouth is filled with his dick even before your knees hit the ground. Jin staggers back, but your suction on his dick is funnily strong enough to pull him back before falling. You switch positions, having him balance himself against the counter, all while you refuse to leave his cock out. His giggle of endearment has you pouting, but it swells your heart and makes you want to give more, more of anything and everything. With your renewed vigor, you push yourself in until his pubes tickle your nose, and his tip tickles your throat.

“Your-”, “I-”, “uhh-”

Every new sentence Jin starts crumbles to your actions. You furrow your brows both in concentration on your blowing skills and trying to decode what he is trying to say.

Jin takes a large gulp, adamant on making this one a coherent sentence. “You know, I used to imagine this, and in my dreams I used to be very sexy and suave, talking my way throug-oof-” You run your tongue over the tip of his leaking dick, emphasizing the point he is coming to, “Now I can’t even complete sentences here.”

“You being you is super sexy in itself.” And you curve your tongue to match the arch of his cock, letting the incoming saliva pool on it before letting it run down his shaft, dripping down from his balls. Strings of his precum connect to your lips, and you swipe your tongue through them, relishing the salty goodness before going back in for more.

“Y/N, shit, did you just moan?”

How couldn’t you? The fact that he is horny for you, so much so that rivulets of precum don’t stop drizzling down your throat, has you preening. You hum your assent in response, not willing to let go even for a moment, but Jin pulls you off before you can get a chokehold on the base of his cock again.

“Never had a woman moan while sucking me off. It’s sexy as fuck,” Jin breathes into your lips as he dives in for a kiss.

Your chest is heaving, catching the breaths you lost when you were down. “Then why’d you stop me?”

“Are you kidding me? I was about to lose it right there.”

“Jinnie, come on,” you break the fragmentary kiss you were sharing, looking into his glassy eyes, “let me feel you come on my tongue.” To emphasize your conviction, you lick his lips, persuading him of the sinful deeds your tongue is capable of doing if he’d just let you.

“Oh man, stop. What’s worse than busting a nut in your mouth? Busting it while you’re kissing me. Making me feel like a teenager.” You erupt into a loud laugh, soon followed by Jin as well. It is so him to joke about this.

“And babe,” all hints of embarrassment vanishing from his tone, “I’m only going to come inside you.”

“Fuck, fuck, yes. You got a condom on you?”

“Yeah, let me grab my wallet.” The instant he moves away, you feel naked, shivering from the comfort stolen away from you. But then you hear Jin grumble, “I hope I don’t have the bacon-flavored one.” And the absurdity of it all puts you at ease again.

“Ew, stop, even you can’t make that sexy. My lady boner is dying.”

He envelops you again, and you can feel the laughter echoing in his lungs before making it out to your ears. He brings your attention to the familiar rustle of foil wrapper. “Thankfully, we got chocolate.”

“Mmmh, gotta love chocolate.”

You take the condom out of his hands, and roll it onto his stiff length, flattered that he’s holding his erection for so long.

“Okay, stick it in me!” And you smack your ass in readiness, and a very flabbergasted Jin breaks out chortling.

“Y/N, stop being my best friend for like, five minutes!” His brows are furrowed in pretense exasperation, but you can see his lips holding back a genuine smile through the grimace, just happy that your dynamics haven’t changed the slightest, even though everything else has shifted.

“Okay okay,” you try and suppress your own laughter, before continuing, “how do you want me, baby?”

“Bend over on the vanity. And keep your eyes on the mirror.” And as you move into position, his palms grab your ass and squeeze it hard, feeling your glutes push back against his grip, and he pushes you forward till you're on the tips of your toes. You watch him through the mirror, watch him admire the way your ass curves over the table edge, how your toes struggle to keep you up, and how the dimples of your back are deepened by the arch, peeking under the bunched up robe tails, just waiting for him.

“Jin.” Your hushed whisper puts him in action.

Pushing the head in is anguish and relief at the same time. His bulbous head stretches your entrance; even with your preparation, you feel it sting. The searing gets better and better with every inch slipping in, and when he finally lodges inside, you let out a heavy breath, still panting and keeping yourself from screaming bloody murder in pleasure. Jin bends forward to paint the back of your neck, sucking the flesh till the circular bruise comes to surface.

“Can you- can you-fuck, no, wait-” Your brain is at war with itself, battling between adjusting to his girth and having him pump you into adjustment.

You can feel Jin’s snicker from behind you, and he finally makes the decision for you. “I’ll wait, I have things to do here,” he says before playing around the patch of skin, spreading from the base of your hair to the expanse of your back, his teasing licks relaxing your walls and accommodating his girth. The pain is almost gone, expect for the lingering ache that only helps you.

“You can move now, babe.”

“Okay, okay.” Your words snap him out of the painter’s dream he was in, and he twitches inside you. Something about the ease at which you both have adopted nicknames for each other softens his heart and hardens his cock.

Pulling out till only the head rests inside, Jin himself struggles against the third degree grip your pussy has on him. As he is thrusting inside again, your walls tense up, making it harder and harder for him to hold back.

“Y/N, sweetie, relax. I got you.”

“Jin, I’m-” You have tears running down your eyes, the pleasure and unsurmountable happiness rolling out in fat hot drops. “Fuck me harder. I won’t last.”

“Shit. Okay, hold on then.”

To what? Is what you’re going to ask before Jin unleashes his carnality onto you. Your breasts, dripping in sweat and saliva, are plastered to the countertop, which in itself is jiggling to the beat of Jin’s thrusts. His dick is curving inside to hit you repeatedly, and you have to gather the satin fabric to wipe your eyes to keep your gaze fixed on him.

He looks majestic. Forehead embellished with beads of sweat, his hair coiffed up, lips sanguine red after your vicious kisses - you swipe your tongue along your own lips to find them battered in response. His honey chest is heaving with every push, and a particular one hits you just right.

You let out a guttural groan, and Jin takes note of it immediately.

“Up,” he commands, and loops an arm under your belly to you pull you up and closer and now every thrust hits deeper into that spot he has found in you, your back connected to his chest as the two of you move in tandem; this is the most together you’ve ever felt with anyone. This moment is to be etched in your memories forever.

You scream into your fist to muffle the sounds, the edge of the table digging into your hip bone as you feel yourself getting closer to the brink. One swipe to the clit is all you have left to bring you to your release.

And from some telepathic force, or from the clutch your pussy has on him, Jin beats you to it. His fingers come down and carefully find your swollen nub, pinching it between his fingers. If he thought you’d shown him your hardest clench, he was wrong, because right now your dam has broken, and the iron-clad grip you give his cock sends him reeling, too.

You are gushing on his dick, the rubber dripping with your wetness. Jin too releases into the condom in stuttered gasps, his thrusts becoming shorter and shallower as he comes down from his high.

Petal-like kisses fall on your back as the two of you regain your breaths. The mirror that served you two well is covered in a fog of hot breath and perspiration, blearing your vision of yourself, but somehow, it sparkles with Jin’s reflection. His nobility-esque visuals use the haze as a valance for his appearance, framing them to make him look like you’re among the clouds. And in some way, you actually are.

“Ah, let me go.” You jiggle your shoulders back to make the man above you move. “Fuck, can you check if my spine is in place? I think you dislodged it.”

“Shut up and come hug me, I’ll squeeze it back in place.”

Now this is something you could get used to.

As he ties and throws away the used condom, you flip over to face him and fall back into his embrace, broad shoulders promising to protect you, making you feel safe in his care. Jin on the other hand is simply ecstatic to feel you on him, feeling your thumping heart beat for him, after months of pining and pondering whether anything would become of the seed of your tumultuous friendship. Now, it has blossomed to a garden of prospect and promise, every petal of every flower here reading a new opportunity to tell you how much he adores you, cherishes you, treasures you. How much he loves you. An opportunity he doesn’t wait to use.

“I love you.”

The pink tinge of your cheeks either comes from the sex, or from his comment, but either way, he is glad its from him.

“I love you too, Jin. So, so very much.”

If your heart could leap out of your chest, it would do so, to find its way to his and fuse into one. But for now, your entwined bodies give you all you want.

You hear Jin stifle a laugh, and pull back in question. He points to something odd on the countertop.

“What is that?”

The cream white surface of the table, that was maligned by your ignoble deeds, now sports two glistening, wheatish semi circles that look very similar to the sizes of one person who was splayed on top of it just moments ago.

“Is that…” Jin is trying to contort his lips and halt the looming snicker, and he brings his eyes down to your chest (trying not to get hard again), “Did you have makeup on your chest?”

“Shut up.” All you can do is fall closer into his arms, hopefully masking the tint of embarrassment highlighting the apples of your cheeks. “I wanted to make them look extra good for you.”

He’s given up on holding back, the full-bellied laugh that resonated from him echoing across the room. But it dwindles down fast, coming to small chuckles of tenderness, and he slips his digits beneath your chin to have you meet his gaze.

“They always look good,” he whispers, his admittance setting your chest aflame, “trust me, I’d know.”

Taglist 💛: @little7bitchh, @afangirllikeme-blog, @h34rt1lly, @marpotterhead

Thank you so much for making it to the end! I hope you enjoyed the fic, my ask box is always open for your lovely opinions. To read more of my work, find my main masterlist here. :)

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tezzbot · 3 years

Text

applejack headcanons in a sort of timeline i have in my head based on the flashbacks/statements in the show lol this is gonna get long i apologise

aj is born in the sweet apple acres barn to bright mac and pear butter :D

we get the apple family reunion episode flashback where she is lichrally baby asking for apple fritters 🥺

she grows up a bit, just by family gene pool luck shes a strong little fucker and as she grows her family realises she's not just physically strong but strong willed too, it becomes a running joke that shes secretly part mule with how stubborn she can be :P

bright mac had a dog from when he was younger that he loved with all his heart, big mac loved him too but applejack thought was a grumpy old lump of a beast she just Did Not Like This Animal you know how kids can be lmaooo

applejack and big mac dont really leave the farm all that much, theyre homeschooled by their parents and granny smith so, generally they dont have that many friends their age in their childhood, they say hi and play a bit with fillies and colts they pass while helping out with deliveries, aj and rarity possibly have a few interactions through this but nothing really sticks at this point, they know each others names and thats probably it, the apple siblings are a big hit with usual customer and ponies who sell them things in the market

pear butter teaches aj how to play the guitar and she practices until her hooves hurt, her ma is very proud of her, they like to play duets when they have some alone time :] then, deciding to branch out from that applejack also picks up other instruments like the banjo and the fiddle, they find out she has quite a knack for music! (applejack is only slightly disappointed she doesnt get her cutie mark from it, but unlike applebloom would be in the future, she doesnt mind all that much, after all granny smith always said it'd come with time 😌)

not long after little applebloom is born we get the great seedling episode flashback which is a turning point in applejack, a moment like finding out santa or the tooth fairy isnt real, she matures a little bit that day, gains more of the work ethic we see in her as an adult

around this time is when bright mac and pear butter die :( i dont have a concrete headcanon on How they die but the dangerous trade routes the apples have to take to make deliveries may have had something to do with it, or maybe they were trying to protect the farm from something coming from the everfree forest, im not sure

the rest of the apple family make their way to sweet apple acres to give their condolences and help out in any way they can around the farm while our apples grieve :( its sad but it brings aj and big mac closer than they'd ever been

after shes recovered a little from that, i think aj kind of loses herself, i mean how can you not after losing both parents :(( so she decides to leave the farm in the hopes she'll be able to find herself again in manehattan, this is the cutie mark chronicles flashback and where she realises she belongs in ponyville, Runs home and gets her cutiemark

after a little bit, to help her become a little bit more social with foals her age, applejack goes to camp friendship where she meets little coloratura and the two Immediately click, aj gives her new best friend the nickname rara and they're practically inseparable the whole summer, their friendship starts to grow into something more but rara is heading back to manehatten after camp and applejack belongs back in ponyville, so they decide to give a lonb distance relationship a try, they manage to exchange letters back and forth for a long time, ultimately deciding a long distance relationship wasnt gonna work so they mutually decide to break up but still stay pen pals! after a while, the letters stop and they become just a memory in one anothers minds

sweet apple acres eventually returns to a business as usual state, with groups of relatives stopping by the farm now and again to give a helping hoof considering its now run by a late-middle aged lady, two children and a baby lol, applejack, while still doing a lot of tree bucking, is starting to take on a more maternal figure role in applebloom's life as well as being her sister, her and big mac feels more responsible and protective of the foal since she would be growing up with no ma and pa, they sort of took on those roles, applejack more intensely i guess i just see her as having strong maternal instincts embedded in her or something lol, but she for sure isnt "single mom"ing it, with granny smith and other relatives ready to take the little bugger when aj needs to get stuff done :P it takes a village and all that lmao

since at this time aj and big mac are starting to go into town more often and are free to do as they please as long as their chores get done, they start actually interacting more with teens their age in ponyville! applejack starts hanging out with fillies like rarity who she had known in passing but now could finally get to know and the cake's new apprentice and ponyvilles youngest party planner, pinkie pie

after starting to hit some awkward growth spurts as she reaches her teens lol, she starts taking an interest in the business side of the farmwork too, dealings with customers, looking into trade routes stuff like that, this is when the where the apple lies flashback takes place i fuckin love that episode please watch it, and this starts applejack's lifelong promise to never lie ever again which she keeps bc shes a legend as fuck <3

one day aj notices cloudsdale passing through probably to start preparing ponyville for the next season, and she hears a Thud coming from a row or two over from where she's working, she goes over to investigate to find a pegasus filly shaking off what aj can only assume was a crash, she asks if shes alright, n the filly is like of course i am im so tough toughest around actually thanks<3 and aj is internally like hm. this kids kinda annoying. they introduce themselves and applejack finds out rainbow dash is looking for her friend fluttershy, she likes to come down from cloudsdale to play with animals or something, but applejack hasnt seen any yellow pegasi fillies around so the little blue filly says thanks anyway and zips off at what aj can only describe as probably the speed of light, she somehow has a strange feeling this isnt gonna be the last she sees of this kid

she turns out to be right when shes invited to a happy visit to ponyville from cloudsdale party thrown for rainbow and fluttershy, apparently rainbow had bumped into pinkie while asking around ponyville for any idea where fluttershy and of course pinkie Had to make an event out of it once she had helped rainbow find her friend, the party was of course a lot of fun rainbow and aj somehow managed to turn every party game into a competition and despite their first impressions of one another they actually got along really well and gained a good amount of respect for each other, aj eventually found fluttershy sort of hiding away from most of the party and fluttershy actually opened up a little after talking with aj bc of how calming her presence was for her

over the next few years the five got to know each other quite well, anytime cloudsdale passed by rainbow and fluttershy would drop into ponyville to hang out or just say hi, and once they were old enough they moved into their ponyville houses and the five of them became just a regular friend group youd see hanging out on the streets of ponyville, fluttershy helps aj pick out a border collie puppy for help with wrangling critters on the farm (applebloom was getting too old to be sent off to mindlessly run after little animals all the time and she had started going to school so she wasnt around as much lmaoo) and just as a companion for applejack, she names her Winona :]

and then after those few years Twilight shows up! you know the rest from there :P

if i missed anything uhhh whoops<3 lol

#mlp #mlp applejack #tezztalks #mlp headcanons #might make more of these idk tho #block that tag if u dont wanna see em BDNVD #the hc tag i mean

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flaminpumpkin · 3 years

Text

Small treasures

“Five more minutes,” Bruce grumbled as he distantly heard the door open through his sleepy haze.

There was some shuffling sound around the room and then it was flooded with bright morning light as Alfred mercilessly opened the heavy curtains, the rays of sunshine hitting the Bat right in the face, making him scramble for the covers to hide his sensitive eyes.

“Very well, Master Bruce. Breakfast will be ready for you in the kitchen.”

He was so used to Alfred’s barely hidden exasperation after all these years that his words took longer than usual to register with Bruce. A frown appeared on his face as he finally realized what was wrong with the butler’s statement.

Alfred never served breakfast – or any meal for that matter – in the kitchen.

He would rather shoo everyone out with a spatula full off batter than let anyone eat where he cooked. Bruce couldn’t even count the number of times he had seen Dick or Tim appear in the dining room with a sheepish look, a thoroughly exasperated Alfred hot on their heels.

Pushing the sheets away just enough to uncover his head, Bruce peeked over his shoulder at the still open door, eyebrows knitting further in confusion.

“What?”

Something caught his eyes.

There was a piece of yellow paper on the nightstand. An origami bat, he realized after finally deciding to emerge from the sea of sheets and pillows he had buried himself in during his sleep. He reached for it and took the little paper animal gingerly between his fingers, eyes focusing enough to read “unfold me” written in elegant cursive right at its center.

Bruce did as he was told.

Dear Master Bruce,

My words most probably confused you as the kitchen is a place I do not tolerate for anyone to eat in. But, need I remind you, there always has been one peculiar occasion where I allowed you to do so.

Bruce stared at the note, confusion growing.

Oh.

His eyebrows raised a bit, pleasantly amused. There was indeed one occasion Alfred would let him eat in the kitchen while he worked. What did the kids put Alfred to this time?

Led by his curiosity, Bruce climbed off the bed, fully awake now as he put on a shirt, and padded out of the bedroom, towards the kitchen.

No one was there when he arrived, which wasn’t odd per say but he had learned to be cautious over years of attempted surprise parties. There was a plate though, on the little table, with French toasts that smelled like butter and cinnamon and a cup of coffee with probably enough sugar and cream that it didn’t even taste like coffee anymore.

It was a breakfast Alfred had always prepared for him on the morning of his birthday after his parents’ death. He would put the plate on this same table and work silently as Bruce happily ate, the two of them sharing the same space in the simplest way. It wasn’t a grand gesture but it had meant the world to him nonetheless.

Another little origami bat was waiting for him, propped against the cup. A small smile tugged at his lips.

Bruce put it aside before starting to eat, careful not to stain the paper with coffee or grease, only taking it again once he had cleared the table and washed his hands. He unfolded it with the same care as the first.

My happy place.

(Took a piece of bread. Alfred said yes. Thank you.)

Cass

The dance studio on the third floor.

A while back, Bruce had decided to redesign one of the biggest rooms on that floor in a place where Cass could dance that wasn’t the ball room. He had wanted for it to be a place only for her, where she could express herself and spend time however she pleased, without anyone bothering her. His greatest recompense had been the radiant smile on her face before she had locked himself in there and played music until late that night.

The next course of action wasn’t too hard to guess so Bruce quickly folded the paper back into its bat form, slid it in the pocket of his pajama pants, along the first one, and headed for the next place.

As expected, he found another bat in Cass’s dance studio, tucked into the folds of a bright orange knitted scarf. There was a running joke between his kids saying that it was because Bruce always forgot to take a scarf with him during winter that his Batman voice sounded so bad.

One thing was for sure, he would not forget this one.

Hey B, remember that time you told me you were proud of me and then proceeded to suffocate me with your muscles? Just kidding, you give great hugs. Like, super comfy, 10/10. But yeah, go there next.

Steph :p

He huffed at Stephanie’s words, eyes rolling with fondness. He remembered perfectly what she was referring to.

The young woman had been staying in the manor for a few days that time, Alfred being keen on keeping her under careful observation after she had been hit with a new type of fear gas while on patrol with Dick. She had continuously apologized to Bruce, blaming herself for Dick’s injuries.

Until the third day, where he had found her reading in the library, curled up in one of the love seats. Before she could utter a word, he had crouched down and grabbed her hands firmly.

“You do not need to apologize or blame yourself for anything, do you hear me? You managed to drag Dick and yourself out of this building while under the influence of fear gas when most would have stayed frozen in place. I’m sure he will agree that a few scratches and broken bones are far better than what would have awaited him if you hadn’t been there. I’m proud of you, Stephanie Brown. More than you’ll ever know.”

After that, she had thrown herself at him and Bruce had hugged her for the better part of an hour until Alfred had come to fetch her for some blood analysis.

This time, when he walked into the next place of this little treasure hunt, he found a laptop, sitting open on the table next to one of the windows. The windows of the library were wide and high and the spot where the next gift awaited was one of his favorites.

So he let himself sink in the armchairs cushions and started to play the video.

“You better not ruin this, Todd,” Damian was saying, standing next to the piano in the lounge of the west wing, violin already positioned on his shoulder.

Jason was scowling at the piano in front of him, focused.

“Just take the lead, brat. I’ll follow.”

“Could you two focus, please?” Tim said off camera.

The other two huffed with the same affronted look towards the camera.

Then the melody started and both of their faces softened. It was gentle, melancholic. Almost sad if you asked Bruce. But he listened with a smile on his face, bemused at the sight of his two quick tempered sons playing with a soft kind of intensity together, Jason following Damian’s lead flawlessly – probably the result of hours of practice. It was truly beautiful and he knew that the melody was one of Damian’s compositions.

But it was over too soon for Bruce’s taste so he played it a second time, closing his eyes. And then a third as he read the next message, only heading for the next place once it was over.

Blah blah blah, some cute shit about us bonding, blah blah blah. Just get your ass to the garage old man.

Ps: Remember your Aston Martin? I think I scratched it a bit but I’ll blame it on Timmy anyway.

Jay.

Bruce knew exactly which car Jason was talking about (and knew perfectly that he didn't scratch it). An Aston Martin DB5 he had inherited from his father. Nobody had driven it in ages when Jason had brought it up during dinner one evening, not long after he had taken him in.

“Isn’t that James Bond's car?”

“It is. But it’s been so long since the last time I used it, I’ll probably need to pop open the hood before anything else if I want to drive it again.”

“Can I help you fix it?”

Jason’s eyes had been so full of hope and excitement when he had asked Bruce. He had laughed before agreeing. The next day, Alfred had had to come and pry them away from the car for lunch because both of them had forgotten about eating in their eagerness.

He noticed a tape case on the board as he approached, in front of the wheel. Bruce opened the door and climbed in so he could reach for it easily. On the piece of paper tucked between the clear case and the tape, Bruce could see every song scribbled, one in each of his children’s handwriting. He recognized a song by The Clash in Tim’s handwriting – of course – and Midnight Sonata in Damian’s. The other titles and artists were mostly lost on him, except maybe for that Belgian one Cass listened to a lot.

I can’t count the number of times I fell asleep there while you worked and you had to carry me back to my room.

Dick

Bruce couldn’t recount either.

Although he remembered fondly the first time Dick had fallen asleep in his study, curled up in one of the seats across his desk while he worked on some urgent papers for WE. They both had been so young. Bruce being completely new to parenthood, he had seeked out Alfred who had only fixed him with a blank stare before sending him back.

“Don’t you dare wake up this child, Master Bruce.”

He had actually managed to pick up the gangly child without waking him up, even if rather awkwardly, and had carried him all the way to his bedroom uneventfully. Only to trip on one of Dick’s schoolbooks once there, nearly dropping him.

They had both elected not to mention it to Alfred and, to this day, it was still something only the two of them knew about.

When he arrived at his study, another message was waiting for him in the seat Dick used to sleep in, along with a gift card for that 24 hours coffee shop that had opened recently in downtown Gotham. Bruce let out a breathy laugh at that.

I know you always listen when I play, Father. Why do you think I leave my door open when I do?

D. Wayne

And here he thought he had been smooth. However, he should have expected that his son would pick up on his habit of passing by his room while he rehearsed with his violin.

But Bruce couldn’t resist the pull in his chest. Damian was a gifted player, just like Jason, able to translate raw emotions in barely a few notes. It always put his mind at ease, smoothed out his most troubled thoughts even for only a few moments. He had caught everyone at least once, standing outside of his youngest’s door, listening to soft melodies in a rare moment of peace.

It was silent moments shared with everyone, brought together by Damian's deft fingers. Something he had been doing knowingly and willingly apparently. It made it all the more special for Bruce.

There was no gift when he went searching for the next clue in Damian’s room. Or so he thought.

Sitting on his son’s music-stand along with yet another yellow origami bat, was an open partition. It was still in work, Bruce could tell. Notes were hastily written with a pencil, a few stains where some had been erased. Nothing out of the ordinary for Damian and his creative mind. Except for the title.

Ode to Family.

Thankfully, no one was around to witness the shuddering breath that escaped him as he read. He exited the room still unable to breathe normally, heart so full he almost felt like suffocating, and walked towards his next – and probably last – location.

You spent hours trying to teach me how to dance the waltz there after I told you I wanted to take Steph dancing for her birthday. I still don’t know how to dance but we had fun.

Tim

Indeed, Bruce still regularly caught Tim stepping on his partner’s toes during charity galas and other events. But he suspected the young man of going to great lengths to not learn how to dance correctly because it usually dissuaded most people from asking him to dance with them. And god knew how much his son disliked dancing.

That was why it had greatly surprised him when Tim had asked him for help.

“I wasn’t really the best boyfriend to her so I just… I thought I could at least be a good friend and take her dancing? She loves it when Cass takes her in the studio and they dance so I just thought… Yeah…”

Five hours later, Tim had made absolutely no progress. He had known the steps by heart at this point, had it memorized and yet, he couldn’t seem to stop stomping on Bruce’s toes. To both Dick’s and Alfred’s delight.

His eldest son probably still had videos of it, he thought as he entered the vast and empty ballroom. There was nothing out of the ordinary or out of place and Bruce almost expected for his family to sneak up on him and surprise him when he noticed one last, black origami bat on the wooden floor, right in the center of the room.

He crouched down and unfolded it slowly, warily even, some would say.

Terrace on the second floor. You know, the one where I inelegantly asked you to marry me and you just stared for a good five minutes before laughing. (And saying yes, of course.)

It wasn’t signed and even if the message wasn’t telling enough, he would recognize that hasty scribble everywhere.

Bruce took off, climbing stairs two by two and running down hallways. His heart was pounding in his chest.

He had been gone for six months. Six excruciatingly long months of absolutely no contact, of not having any means to make sure his husband-to-be – yes, that idiot had asked him to marry him just before leaving – was still alive and well. Six months of worrying, of his children asking nervously if he had any news of his whereabouts.

Bruce barged through the French doors leading to the wide terrace on the second floor of the manor and, surely enough, everyone was there. Absolutely everyone.

“Happy birthday, Spooky. Half a century, we gotta celebrate,” Hal drawled with an easy grin.

“Someone take the cake away from Hal. Right now, before they ruin it!” Bruce heard someone say distantly and, next thing he knew, he had taken the few steps still separating them and was kissing Hal, holding him close by the lapels on his jacket.

There were groans, cheers and something that sounded a lot like someone telling them to get a room. Hal laughed against his lips, pecked him one last time before pulling away, opening his arms widely with a grin. A clear invitation for everyone to pile up on them which everyone took with great enthusiasm, barreling into them and crushing Bruce and Hal under their combined weight.

#batfam #bruce and his kids #that's it #batlantern #at the end #as a treat #cuz I love these old men #bruce wayne #batman #happy birthday batsy #this was supposed to be a short drabble i don't know what happened #clemwrites

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annaofthenorthernlights · 3 years

Text

Cruising beyond sunrise

This is my fanfic-contribution to the Frozen Fanzine Volume 5: Summer lovin - organised by @frozines! Hope you enjoy - happy frozine everyone ❤️

Pairing: Kristanna, modern AU setting

Rating: G

Summary: Anna and Kristoff set out for their individual summer jobs on a cruising ship along Norway´s coastline. Meeting "accidently" on the way to Hamburg´s harbour, the journey spins off "kristanna-slow burn-style..."

Chapter 1 / 4 (find the complete fic on AO3)

Somewhere in Southern Germany

For Anna, the invitation for this summer job came right in time. All her family would not be there during those long following weeks. Her parents were abroad on business reason, and Elsa had decided to join the summer camp of the philharmonic orchestra. She was a fabulous harp player after all. But then, Anna felt lonely. After breaking up with that unfaithful brat of a boyfriend… It had already been so many weeks since the disastrous night, where she had walked right in the middle of things, with him being served in the most intimate ways by his secretary… Yack! Anna´s eyes still filled with tears of fury and disappointment when the scenery flashed back before her inner eye.

Her suitcase was finally packed, and all her music devices sorted and stored neatly within her luggage. Anna was ready to depart and embark on the summer trip of her life! If only she wouldn´t feel so lonely… Ah, well, soon she would be surrounded by lots of people and fun programs. She was ready to go!

Somewhere else in Southern Germany

Normally, Kristoff would not travel inland by plane. But the ticket was paid by the shipping company, and he was kind of short on time. So, he would accept the offer and was on his way to Munich airport. He had mastered his finals and until starting his new job, he could just as well earn some money with this summer occupation. It might be a good start off into his career. Still, being surrounded by numerous people all day long, that was not his vision of a quiet and peaceful summer. With a sigh, he stuffed the ticket in his travel bag.

His suitcase was packed, and all his literature supply sorted neatly within his luggage. Kristoff was ready to risk the wave of vacation feeling washing over him.

***

The flight from Munich to Hamburg would take approx. 1 hour. Already they were delayed due to rain and maintenances still going on. Kristoff tried to relax in his seat, but then this size of airplane was not built for big guys like him. He tried to stretch and stretch his legs into the aisle without hindering the still boarding passengers. He desperately hoped they would take off soon, so he could leave this cocoon like cage after their landing. So, he flicked through the plane magazine to distract himself, when he noticed a person stopping just by his side. The woman was about to store her bag just atop of his head. She was small, tiptoed to the upmost maximum and stretched to the extent that Kristoff thought she was about to do pull-ups while dangling at the storage box. Some sort of moaning and sighing noises came to his ears, but nobody seemed obliged to help the tiny lady.

“You need help up there?” he asked, peering up from his seat.

“Huh?” the young woman glanced down between her arms and smiled at him. “That´s very kind of you, thanks, but I manage.” She then somehow shrank back to her normal size and stood there, with a shy grin and pulled up shoulders.

“I´m sorry, but may I…?” She pointed to the window seat.

“Oh, yes, sorry.” Kristoff made some efforts to peel himself out of his seat. For some reason, he seemed stuck. This was ridiculous and he swore under his breath, in his mind strangling the architect of this seating construction.

“Oh, you know what? Don´t bother yourself. Just hang on.” And with that, before Kristoff realised what was happening, the young lady started to climb over his legs, holding on with one hand to the backrest of his seat and with the other to the seat in front of them. Within a jiffy she´d swung herself with ease into the seat next to him and wriggled herself into a cosy position. Of course, she was small and delicate of figure. She could move in here like a little fish in the water. For a short moment, Kristoff envied the small person next to him. But then, excuse me, how rude was her behaviour. He couldn´t help to clear his throat and then stare back at his magazine. What else was there to do?

“Oh no!” The girl exclaimed.

“You´re alright?” Kristoff asked vaguely, glancing over briefly.

“I left my mobile up in my bag, and I thought of listening to some music.” She gnawed on her lips and was about to get up.

“Would you mind? I´m so sorry. But you don´t need to bother yourself again. I can just as well…”

“No. No. That´s totally fine, really!” Kristoff pushed himself out of his seat as fast as he could before someone could climb over him again for the second time within two minutes…

“Oh thanks! That´s so kind!”

After the energetic neighbour had plumped herself back into her window seat, Kristoff turned his attention to his book that he had fished out of his bag before sitting back again.

After the plane had taken off, the flight continued in a peaceful manner, for the girl had plugged her earpads and was listening to music all the time. Only the snack break would stop her from napping with little snores or then happily humming along to the songs. According to the tunes that emerged from her lips, she had to be listening to ABBA.

It was hard concentrating that way, but after a while Kristoff got used to it and for some reason the humming didn´t bother him as much anymore.

And when the plane finally landed, he was off as fast as possible to escape that tiny place and the crowd of people that were all around him.

***

Anna stood at the docks in awe. She had never been on a ship like this one or seen anything like it from close up. Excitement filled her and the thought of being part of this adventure for the next two weeks. The change of tapestry would do her good, she was sure. Since that dreadful time of new year, Anna hadn´t been able to go anywhere or participate in any activity really. The shock of catching Hans, cheating on her in such a horrifying way, had kept her ensnared for weeks. Her family hadn´t been of much help. Of course, they´d been helpless as well. In their ways, leaving her alone, for a good reason, Anna understood them. Finally, she had found relief and regained her composure by repeatedly talking to her aunt Gerda, who had shown her so much appreciative value and heart-care!

“Hi there. Are you alright?”

The friendly voice next to her interrupted her thoughts. Anna turned to face a lovely woman with big almond shaped eyes and ebony skin. Her hair was an impressive bunch of black, neatly combed into a braid that fell all down over her chest.

“Oh, hi. I´m sorry. I´ve never been on a ship like this and had to take a long look first.”

“Yes. It´s quite impressive, isn´t it. By the way, I´m Honeymaren.”

“Oh, I´m Anna. Nice to meet you. Are you going to work here, too?”

“Yes, I´m the 1st hostess and here to help if you have any questions. So, what are you going to do aboard?”

“Me? Oh, I´m here as a fitness instructress.”

“Ah. That is fantastic. Welcome aboard Arendelle lights! Come on, I will show you around and sign you in, alright?”

Anna was so grateful to have met Honeymaren. First, she seemed so kind and then, Anna would have a safe contact in case of an emergency on her behalf. She was about to get a bit nervous, though. If only she would not mess this up and make a fairly good job here!

Her cabin was alongside the other staff lodges, and she loved it. It was cosy, furnished and the bullseye-window was so cute!

The passengers would check in only the next morning, and for tonight there would be some sort of welcome party for all the ship-staff. Anna was looking forward to this event immensely. She desperately hoped to find some nice people to hang out with for the next two weeks and not being left on her own.

***

“Good evening, Dr. Bjorgman. Welcome aboard Arendelle lights. I hope you´re satisfied with your cabin and all?”

“Yes. Thank you. All fine.”

“That´s great. Have you met the captain yet?”

“Yes, I have. Thank you.”

“Wonderful. Well anyway. Enjoy your stay aboard and if you need anything or have any requests, don´t hesitate to contact me. Alright?”

“Yes. Thank you. As a matter of fact, that might well be the case since this is my first cruising tour you know.”

“Ah. Don´t worry. You´re not alone there. Our fitness instructress is new to this , too. You two might just as well stick together then?” Honeymaren smiled and winked sheepishly.

Dr. Bjorgman didn´t get it but was wondering how long he was supposed to endure this event, when the hostess put a hand onto his arm and waved with the other.

“Oh. There she is. Just hang on a second, I´ll introduce you. Hey Anna! Over here!”

Kristoff followed Honeymaren´s gestures and spotted an auburn-haired girl, who waved back into their direction excitingly. The humming girl! She hurried towards them, stopping abruptly upon seeing him. Her eyes widened and she pressed her lips together, pulling up her shoulders while stepping up to them.

“Hi there!” Anna lifted a shy hand to greet them both, constantly looking back and forth between Honeymaren and the man standing next to her.

“Hi Anna. May I introduce? This is Dr. Bjorgman. Dr. Bjorgman, this is Anna, our fitness instructress. You two might have business to talk?” With that, Honeymaren left them to themselves, she was needed somewhere else.

Silence.

“So, I hear this is your first cruising trip, too?” Kristoff asked awkwardly. Meeting the sportive lady again had not been on his mind to be honest.

“Yes, indeed. Goodness… Had I known.” Anna put a hand to her chest and shook her head, obviously embarrassed. “Seriously, I´m so sorry for bothering you on that flight and isn´t it funny, we sat right next to each other? But I was so nervous getting here. I mean excitingly nervous, not nervously nervous, you know?”

Her expression seemed truly apologetical, but friendly and enthusiastic.

No. He would know nothing about the feeling of being excitingly nervous.

“Yeah, sure. Don´t worry.”

They were standing, looking at the people mingling and grabbing drinks from the bar.

“Would you know what we are supposed to do now?” Anna asked uncertainly, gnawing on her lips.

She was nervous after all.He could tell.

“Frankly, I don´t know. For my part, I don´t like such functions. But I guess it´s part of the job.”

“Oh. I love meeting people. I´m just kind of unsure where to start.”

Why not getting her over to that bunch of people and then take a leave?

“We could grab a drink at the bar and join the party?” offered Kristoff with a sigh. Anna nodded feverishly and smiled at him, grateful for his suggestion.

So, when they got to the bar, the barkeeper greeted them with a friendly nod, offering them a “welcome drink”.

“Hellloooo!” A cheering voice sang into their ears from behind and Kristoff and Anna turned to look at a rather little fellow with light hair and big eyes. He grinned broadly and shook their hands enthusiastically.

“Hi! I´m Olaf and I love meeting you all!”

“Oh. How nice! And what are you doing here?” Anna beamed upon meeting someone so refreshing.

Olaf´s face lit up even more at Anna´s remark and he explained, “I´m responsible for the evening entertainment. And youare…?”

“Oh. I´m Anna. I´m the fitness instructress.”

“Aha. That´s lovely. And who is that funny looking grumpy head?” Olaf leaned towards Anna, conspiringly glancing in Kristoff´s direction.

“Oh. That´s… Dr. Bjorgman.” Anna shrugged, unsure of how to address the medical crew member respectfully. But Olaf wasn´t satisfied.

“Gosh, no. That´s too complicated. We are family here!” He waved a hand demandingly at Kristoff. The latter sensed his chances, repressed an amused chuckle, but smirked at the little one.

“It´s Kristoff.”

With that, he waved his goodbyes, wished them a nice evening, and left.

Maybe this wouldn´t be so bad after all. So far, they all seemed to be a friendly bunch of guys. And Anna was safely left in good hands with this Olaf.

This way, Kristoff felt less guilty… If you like to read on... find the complete fic on AO3

#Frozine #frozine volume 5 summer lovin #kristanna #fanfic #modern AU setting #summer jobs #Anna #Kristoff

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libraryofloveletters · 4 years

Note

Hi! I have a request! I hope that’s ok! Can it be Y/N of course! I would like the scenario to be where Y/N is Spencer’s daughter? I just love that concept with my entire heart! Anything else with that! Mostly, happy stuff! If not no worries :)

Growing Up

Dad!Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: fem!reader, mentions of child birth, mentions of drinking and being drunk, crying

Category: fluff so much fluff

Word Count: 1.7k

Author’s Note: I love this idea!!! I know you said just a scenario but I got a little carried away. Also, this picture is just adorable so it’s here :) There’s also big jumps in time because I didn’t want it to be too long. Hope you like it!

----

It was no secret that Spencer Reid wanted to be a father and that he would be an excellent one too. The day he found out his wife was pregnant was the happiest day of his life, or so he thought.

That all changed the day you were born, the first time he held you changed everything.

The Day You Were Born

Spencer stood beside your mother, holding her hand as she pushed. “One more push baby” he whispered to her as she squeezed his hand. He brushed her hair from her face, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her temple. “You’re the strongest person I know” he mumbled into the side of her face. She gave him a weak smile as the sound of crying filled his ears.

“It’s a girl” the doctor said, wrapping her in a little pink blanket after wiping her down a bit. “Would you like to hold her Dr. Reid?” Spencer nodded as the doctor placed the little pink bundle in his arms.

Spencer was in awe. Never did he think something so small could make him rethink his entire life. He leaned down and rested your head on your mother’s chest so she could see you.

“She’s beautiful” she smiled up at Spencer. Spencer handed her back to the doctors so they can clean her up and check that she’s alright. He held your mother’s hand

“I can’t believe we made that”

3 years old

You were now a toddler, sassy and talkative is an understatement.

Your mother had brought you into the BAU to visit your father. You ran into the bullpen, colliding with someone’s legs. You looked up to see your uncle Aaron, he smiled at you and crouched down to your level. “Hey princess, what are you doing here?” he asked you as you hugged him. “I wanna see daddy!” you shouted as Aaron picked you up and swung you around. You were now perched up on his shoulders as he walked you around the BAU.

Your parents were at your dad’s desk, Spencer waved to you as you giggled because Aaron was pretending to drop you. Aaron put you down on Spencer’s desk, you pulled him into one more hug before he ruffled your hair and went back to his work.

“Hi baby” Spencer smiled at you, picking you up and putting you on his lap. “Hi daddy!” you smiled back at him.

“Did uncle Aaron show you around ?”

You nodded resting your head on his chest as he smooth your messy curls with his hand. “Is someone tired?” Spencer asked you, you shook your head. “Good because Penny has cookies in her office, do you want to get some?”

“Yes!” you shouted and hopped off his lap. Off you go running again, you had been to the BAU multiple times so you knew where everyone was. You got to Penelope’s office and waited for Spencer. Your aunt Penelope explained to you that to get into her bat cave, you needed a special pass that only your dad and your aunts and uncles at the BAU had.

Spencer swiped his badge and opened the door. Penelope’s chair spun around to the sound of the door opening, Derek leaned up against her desk. “Y/n! my angel baby! Come here!” her arms were stretched out for you to give her a hug. You ran into her arms, she gave you a hug and picked you up.

“Daddy said you had cookies” you looked up at her

“Dr. Reid! you let the secret slip!” she looked at him

Spencer shrugged with a smile on his face as he reached for one of the cookies. Penelope gave you a cookie which you gladly expected.

“What happened lil mama? Uncle D doesn’t get any love?” he picked you up from Penelope’s lap. You smiled at him and wrapped your arms around his neck. You had a special bond with Derek, you could tell that him and Spencer were close and even as a child you knew that.

14 years old

You were in that weird phase where you were barely a teenager but you weren’t an adult either. Spencer didn’t know how to act around you, sometimes you missed him and wanted to be with him but then sometimes you were grumpy and didn’t want anything to do with him.

“Sugar, dinner’s ready” Spencer called from the other side of your bedroom door. You didn’t answer him, you were too busy with your homework. You started high school and you were so caught up in the newness and the fast pace that you kind of forgot about everything else.

Spencer knocked once more, after he got no answer he opened the door and stuck his head in your room. You were at your desk, typing away on your laptop and grumbling about something. He smiled, the way you threw yourself into school and anything you did always reminded him of himself.

“Baby” he walked over and rested his hands on your shoulders. You jumped, you hadn't heard him come in. “What dad?” you mumbled, going back to your typing.

“Take a break, come eat dinner with me.”

“What? No, I have to finish this”

Spencer shut your laptop screen. “DAD! What the hell ?!” He pulled your chair away from your desk, “Either you get up or I'll drag this chair down the stairs with you in it” he told you. You rolled your eyes, he was a huge pain in your ass but you knew he meant well. You got up and walked out of your bedroom, he smiled

“Good choice, your work will still be here when you get back.”

20 years old

You were totally shit faced at some college party. Your boyfriend broke up with you and you were, well, going through it. You couldn’t find your friends so you called the one person you knew would show up, you father.

“Daddyyyy” you slurred over the phone

“Y/n? Are you okay? Are you drunk?” he asked you quickly, you could hear the panic in his voice and some fumbling.

“Come get me” you fell over, now leaning against the railing on the frat house

“I’m on my way. Stay exactly where you are” he told you and hung up.

It wasn’t long after that you saw him and your uncle Derek walking up to you. You were so drunk and so tired that you could barely hold yourself up. “Dad, uncle D” you mumbled trying to get yourself up, the two of them came over and helped you up. One arm over your father’s shoulder and one over Derek’s, Spencer helped you into the backseat before him and Derek got into the car.

“What happened tonight mama ? You usually aren’t like this. I know you can have fun but c’mon, what happened ?” Derek asked you.

Spencer knew you were too drunk to give a proper answer, he remained quiet as you groaned from the backseat. He would ask you what happened tomorrow after you sober up a bit.

“He left me” you mumbled

“Who did ?” Derek asked you

“My boyfriend, he slept with the college whore” you laid down on the backseat. Spencer looked back at you through the rear view mirror before making a U-turn. “Whoa, where are we going? it’s 3 am and you live the other way” Spencer said nothing to Derek and continued driving.

After a while, he stopped in a parking lot. He opened the backdoor and helped you out. “What are we doing here?” you asked, the 3 of you stood in your favourite diner’s parking lot at 3 am.

“Pancakes and coffee until you sober up and then you’re going to tell us what happened between you and this boy.” Spencer told you. You hugged him, it meant the world to you that he would do something like this for you, meant even more to you that now you were drunk and emotional.

27 years old

You were getting married today. Your best friend hooked the last button on your dress and you looked in the mirror. “Beautiful” she told you and gave your shoulder a squeeze.

“Can I come in?” Spencer asked from the other side of the door while he knocked. You nodded to your best friend and she opened the door. Spencer saw his little girl standing there in her wedding dress and couldn't help but tear up. He promised you that he wouldn't because “if you cry then I'll cry” but he couldn't help it.

“Sugar, you look gorgeous” He hugged you and you hugged him back. “I can’t believe I'm walking you down the aisle already, it felt like just yesterday you were born” he smiled at you as the two of you walked to your position.

The music started and everyone stood up. You saw your fiancé at the altar, your mother in the front row with your grandparents.

All of your friends, your fiancé’s family and then you saw your family.

Derek and Penelope stood together, his arm was around her as she wiped away her tears and blew you a kiss, Aaron was beside Penelope with Jack.

Rossi and Krystall stood together with Luke and Matt, who had his arm around Kristy. Tara, Emily, JJ and Will are in another row.

They were your father’s family and they became yours too.

“You’re all grown up now but you’ll always be my little girl. Don’t forget that” he whispered to you, you nodded.

“I love you dad”

“I love you too sugar”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #dad!spencer #dad!spencer reid #dad!spence #dr spencer reid #ssa spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #cm #cm imagines #cm imagine #cm oneshot #criminal minds #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds oneshot

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kinktae · 4 years

Text

beyond the story: bitchin’

Hi friends! I hope you are all staying safe and healthy during these tough times! I really wanted to put something out there as a thank you to just how much support Bitchin’ got. You guys really are incredible. So, although this story has come to an end, I wanted to properly close the Bitchin’ chapter by giving you all a behind the scenes look at Bitchin’ and everything that went into writing it. This includes hidden easter eggs, backstories, alternative plot-lines, and a short drabble of the Bitchin’ cast 10 years after the story’s end.

Without further ado, please enjoy and thank you again for all your love. You have all of mine.

CHAPTER ONE – PARTNERS

Ah, yes, the start of this whole wild ride. I’ve always loved the whole nerd/popular person trope in fanfics, so it was only a matter of time before I tried my hand at it too. One thing I was adamant about was not making this a “popular person turns nerd hot/confident/better” fic as its kind of one of my least favorite cliches. With that in mind, and knowing that I was going to allude to TATBILB’s contract, I decided that I wanted Y/N to gain as much from the deal as Jungkook did. No blackmail, no just agreeing for the hell of it – Y/N was going to further herself and her dreams given the opportunity.

The beginning of the chapter is where the two are most separated and dissimilar throughout the whole story. It wasn’t that they were fundamentally different, it was that they approached life differently. Y/N was frustrated at how superficial Jungkook seemed, because she believes there is much more to life than just kicking your feet up and cracking jokes.

On the other hand, Jungkook didn’t understand why Y/N was so tense and on guard. To him, life was meant to enjoy and not take so seriously. Which makes sense, given that he grew up with minimal rules and minimal worries (bare minimum partners wassup !)

“So, do we have a deal? Partners?” There was mischievous timber to his words, the kind that made you feel as if this would all later come back to bite you in the ass.

Pushing that pestering thought away, you took his hand into yours, holding his eyes as you gave it a firm shake.

“Partners.”

God, this bit. I knew from the minute I wrote it that I was writing the ending of bitchin’ along with it. I knew this was exactly how I was going to end this story, bc the word partners has multiple means right? In chapter 1, this meant business partners, but in the final chapter… it means life partners. Idk, I’m just still really happy with this writing decision :D

CHAPTER TWO – THE CONTRACT

Dearest Yara. We meet her in chapter two don’t we? Yara is completely based off of my irl best friend Yara who is a writer and who helped me A LOT with this story. She was my biggest supporter throughout figuring out this crazy plot. It was initially only about seven parts, but with her help I managed to bump it up to 10! Everybody say thank you Yaraaaa.

You were angry, that much was evident to her. Yara was sat in your shared dorm’s living room, a thick blanket engulfing her small frame. You briefly glanced towards the TV, it was tuned into MTV, the familiar music video of Every Breath You Take by The Police playing, before directing your glare back onto the copper-haired girl.

The song reference is a direct allusion to writer Yara’s fic, which is one of my favorite fics by her. She was actively writing it around the start of our friendship so it only felt right to pay respects to her. The introduction of her character felt necessary imo bc I wanted to make sure Y/N had a life outside Jungkook. Plus, I got to use the scenes between the two girls as a way to reference the music and culture scene. Yara is especially a fan of the powerful women in the music industry at the time, i.e., Madonna, Annie Lennox, Cyndi Laupner, etc.) Yara is a raging feminist and believer in sexual freedom and libery for women, we do in fact have to stan.

“How old do you think your sister is?”

“Hey, don’t sass me. For your information, Lyanna still has all her Care Bear tapes. She threw a hissy fit when my mom tried to give them away last Christmas.” Yara recalled.

Lyanna is one of writer Yara’s past pseudonyms. She always used to joke about how whenever she read it, it was confusing because there was Y/N, Yara and Lyanna, which were technically all her lolol.

FUNNY STORY ABOUT THE CONTRACT I INSERTED INTO THIS PICTURE… Twitter found it and made it into somewhat of a meme because no one knew it came from a fic rip. I was actually rly embarrassed and even wrote some posts about how much twitter scared me on my blog LMAO. but THEN weirdly enough, I actually stumbled upon a small community on twitter who actually found my fic and would TWEET ABOUT IT!!! LIKE REACTIONS TO EACH UPDATE!!! I wish I could go back in time and remember how giddy I was the first time I found a tweet about my fic. The fanfic community on twitter gave me a new love for the site (which I had previously had removed myself from because of its toxicity) and I have met so many wonderful people because of it. People even made themselves a little twitter group chat to talk about my fics, and now we are all friends! I miss posting a chapter of bitchin’ and refreshing my twitter feed as all my mutuals would post memes and live tweet their reactions. God that made me so fucking happy.

CHAPTER THREE – THE ROLLERSKATING DATE

I love the bickering in this chapter, because unlike the bickering in the first chapter, it’s actually less hostile and more playful. Y/N is slowly letting her guard down to the very persistently charming Jungkook.

“Woah. Family of six, huh? So you have siblings then.” He noted.

“Yep. Three.”

“Tell me about them.”

Looking up from where you were slipping on your second skate, you met Jungkook’s eyes, surprised to see genuine interest in them.

I actually originally had Y/N brush him off here. I was going to wait until the drunk party scene for Y/N to open up about her family and relationship with her sisters. But then I kind of thought to myself… Why? Y/N made peace with it and doesn’t hold onto those insecurities anymore. And objectively, Jungkook hasn’t proven himself to be a bad person so… I let Y/N open herself up to him.

“Then there’s the twins, Rosa and Lia.”

“Hold on. Twins? Wait… did they go to our high school?” Jungkook asked, his interest in this conversation doubled.

“Yep. They were two grades above us.” You confirmed.

“Oh shit, yeah, I remember your sisters, they were mad hot.” Jungkook let out a low whistle, before stiffening, flashing you an apologetic look. “Uh, in a totally non-meathead way.”

You offered the scared-looking boy a small smile, shaking your head.

Some of y’all notice but, Rosa and Lia are a blatant homage to my name: Roselia. ACTUALLY some form of my name can be found in every one of the rewind series fics, including upcoming ones. I’ll give a cookie to whoever can find every single mention hehe.

“I told you it was dumb.” You laughed nervously.

It wasn’t that you cared much about what Jungkook thought but you had a feeling a guy like him, who was popular and carefree, wouldn’t be able to sympathize in the way you would like him to.

“No, I’m just… surprised, that’s all.”

Jungkook certainly was surprised. You had built up quite the impression on him from the very moment you two met. It was hard to imagine that the girl who was so unapologetically herself was ever unsure or insecure.

Somehow, the idea tugged at his heart, as if he understood you more if only just a little.

From the get go, Jungkook was extremely drawn to just how confident and secure Y/N was in herself. I knew I wanted Y/N to be unapologetically sure of herself and in her abilities. Something I didn’t want, however, was for frat boy!jungkook’s only personality traits to be liking sex and being a cocky bastard (although I am a big consumer of that trope heh). Jungkook is actually canonly incredibly insecure. He lacks a real sense of self, which is why he is so desperate for Kiri back. His relationship with Kiri at that time was a big part of what he thought was himself. He has somewhat of low self esteem tbh which is why he’ll go back to a woman who treated him unfairly. That’s why he comes off the way he does in the first chapter and why Y/N thinks he has a big ego... he’s overcompensating. He finds it so endlessly fascinating that Y/N, in all her confident glory, was actually once super insecure. He admires her all the more once she opens up about her past.

“Oh, Rosa is an intern for our hometown’s newspaper but between you and me those assholes don’t even let her write. She does coffee and burger runs for men in charge. And Lia sells ice cream at the mall.”

“What about your brother?” Jungkook asked.

“He’s training to be a cop just like my dad.”

“And your mom?”

“She works at a convenience store.”

All their careers resemble people in the latest Stranger Things season (Nancy, Steve, Hopper, and Joyce). Fun Cameo there.

“What’s wrong?” You wondered, following his eyes.

“October 16th, 1985. 6:48PM.”

“Yes. That’s today’s date and time. What about it?” You pressed, growing confused.

“Remember it.” He warned.

“Why?”

“It’s when I fell in love with you.”

This iconic line I actually got from the real Jeon Jungkook himself. While Jungkook wasn’t actually in love with Y/N here, it certainly was a cute way for him to express his admiration for her.

OH HERE’S A FUN FACT: the hickey scene at the end of this chapter where JK and Y/N kiss for the first time was actually supposed to be Yara giving Y/N the hickey like the best friend she is. Ultimately I went with JK giving it for... smut purposes... ≖‿≖

CHAPTER FOUR – THE HALLOWEEN PARTY

The decision for Y/N to be Freddie Krueger came from me planning to be him for Halloween. And I was! JK as Glen Lantz just followed naturally. I’ve seen some great edits of him as the character. Truly chef’s kiss.

I really liked that Jungkook came over to the girl’s dorm to get ready. I didn’t want a scene where Y/N was thrown into a situation she was uncomfortable with which is how much Nerd At A Party Scene go so made sure Jungkook stayed by her side throughout the part, going out of his way to introducing her to the people he cared about.

Tae’s character came in when I realized I needed a way to actually put Y/N’s event in motion. He was the missing link and BOY did you guys eat his character right up huh. Love that for me.

Another thing, the confrontation with Kiri was so hard to write guys, I reeaaaally struggle with girl conflict. GIRLS SHOULD SUPPORT GIRLS. However, not everyone gets along in real life so I went with Kiri being more along the lines of petty rather than outwardly a cunt to Y/N. Realistically, Kiri is popular and well liked among the greek life so being unkind to someone she hardly knows wouldn’t make sense. There’s definitely tension between these two but I tried my best to steer away from the typical cat fight/revenge porn/public humiliation trope most movies seem to follow.

CHAPTER FIVE – THE FIRST TIME

Introduction to Erik!!!! It was really important to me that Y/N had a life before Jungkook. That's why I wrote in Y/N having a fiancé. She’s not opposed to love, she just has reshifted her focus. She knows what she wants and is choosing to focus on that, which why when she realizes she’s falling for Kookie she’s so hesitant to admit it because she’s fallen down that road before. Even though Jungkook treats her with respect and acknowledges the parts of her she’s most proud of, she just isn’t willing to possibly give up her passions for love. Which is why she doesn’t immediately confess to him, even once she’s sure she loves him.

“I’m serious, nerd. You’re like… um… the sun!” Jungkook marveled, eyes growing full as the realization dawned on him.

“The sun?” You laughed.

“Yeah, like… you’re this bright, beautiful thing that seems like it’s here in front of me but is really light-years away.”

Jungkook was drunk, and although you were sure he was making more sense in his head, you couldn’t help but feel your face grow hot, unsure of how to react to his drunk analogy.

“You’re the sun, Y/N. You make the world turn for you. Never orbit for anyone else.”

And suddenly, you were kissing him, for no other reason other than you wanted to and that it felt like the right thing to do.

No real commentary here. Just love this bit. It’s probably my favorite interaction between them two ‧⁺◟( ᵒ̴̶̷̥́ ·̫ ᵒ̴̶̷̣̥̀ )

“Also… She’s, uh, currently dating Eunwoo.” You told Yara.

Your best friend blinked, silence falling over her.

“Yara?”

“Good for her.” She perked up almost forcibly. “Let her put up with his annoying ass.”

Yara could see the way your expression had turned dubious as if you didn’t believe her nonchalant act.

Yara turned up her nose defensively, “What?”

Ugh yes, some character development from Yara.... the flavor ! Yara (much like Y/N and JK) also struggles with love. She has a real fear of commitment and if far more comfortable with casual sex than relationships. She did develop actual feelings for Eunwoo, she just wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment so she cut him off. Fleed the scene if you will. Typical gemini smh my head.

"I don’t think the contract mentioned orgasms.” Jungkook smirked as you released his thumb.

“I say we let it slide.” You shrugged, leaning into him casually.

“You think?”

“Totally. Think of it as… a bonding activity.” You joked, resting your chin on his shoulder, peering up through your lashes.

“Damn, we’re really committed to this fake dating thing, huh.”

You laughed in the way that you hated, but Jungkook loved; it was loud and abrupt, but it genuine, and it was you.

“What can I say, I’m a method actor.” You sighed dramatically, causing Jungkook to grin before pressing a kiss to your nose, simply because he liked the way it always seemed to make you smile.

GOD THEY’RE SO WHIPPED FOR EACH OTHER ITS DISGUSTING!!!!!! I’m really happy I decided not to make sleeping together a big deal and I got a lot of feedback from you guys agreeing! I had a lot of fun with these two’s sex scenes knowing they could do it whenever they wanted.

CHAPTER SIX – THE STEM EVENT

I started the scene with smut BUT I wanted to point out that much of their time spent together is at Y/N dorm, Jungkook either napping, hanging out or doing work as Y/N would study like she always did. I liked the idea that Jungkook would get bored and would want attention from Y/N because she was so focused. Idk, I just wanted to write a love story about two people spending time together and figuring out how they fit in each other’s lives as opposed to some dramatic I mEeT HiM aNd mY LiFe bEcAmE cRaZy. There’s nothing wrong with that plot line, I just didn’t want that for these two dorks. I wanted Y/N to interact with JK’s scene and crowd but not give up her own which is why most days JK and her just lounged around in her dorm studying.

Also, I don’t know how the teacher/student roleplay made it into the smut, it just did, no further questions (ʃ⌣́_⌣́ƪ).

Then the event scene.

“You’re whipped, dude! Seriously.”

Jungkook felt his face go red, “Shut up, no, I’m not.”

“Hey, I’m not judging. I get it. That’s your girl.” Taehyung shrugged. Jungkook placed a hand on the fold up table in front of him, staring down at the information pamphlet you had worked so hard on.

“She’s just… so fucking driven and passionate about everything she does. Sometimes I look at her, and I’m just like… holy shit, what am I doing with a girl like her? I feel like she’s totally out of my league and being with me is holding her back but— I dunno, man. I just… really like her.” Jungkook revealed, voice growing small.

An unexpected wave of tenderness fell over the two boys, Taehyung throwing an arm over his little brother’s shoulder.

“I’m happy for you, bro.”

Jungkook didn’t know it just yet but dude was talking from the heart and, is in fact, totally whipped :’c

I loved the confrontation scene between the boys and Eunwoo because the boys standing up for Yara really did make everyone feel like a friend group, not just some character who happen to exist at the same time. It wasn’t just Y/N and Yara and one side and the boys on the other. They would all become friends, which is ideal to me. A boyfriend who likes your best friend and considers her a friend so you can all hang out??? Yes please.

Initially, irl Yara and I had noooo clue if Yara would end up with Eunwoo or not. That was actually the original goal actually. But after this chapter four, you guys made it ABUNDANTLY clear that you guys wanted to see Taeyara, despite the two never even meeting! Honestly, it wasn’t until this chapter was written that we decided for sure that Eunwoo was out of the picture for Yara. Part of me really wanted to keep Yara single, but irl Yara insisted on dick and frankly, she’s right. Bitchin’ Yara deserved a shot at love. She definitely has her own story outside of Bitchin’ and will experience a lot of growth in the future.

“God, I know. I do not miss that temper of his.” She chuckled, her words piquing your interest.

“Temper?”

“Oh, yeah. Have you seriously not experienced it yet? He’s got some gnarly anger issues. Not to mention all the lying…” Kiri paused suddenly, straightening up as she flashed you an apologetic look. “Yikes, I’m sorry. I totally should not be telling you this. I’m not trying to be that gross girl that shit talks her ex to his current girlfriend.”

Miss Kiri, Miss Kiri. She really acted up this chapter didn’t she. There was a lot of discussion about whether or not those things she said about Jungkook were true. Which was exactly what I wanted hehe. We come to find out that Kiri had definitely stretched the truth. She really is good at manipulation and understanding how people think and it’s why she is in the role that she is in. Messy queen.

CHAPTER SEVEN – THE ROOFTOP DATE

This entire chapter was inspired by High School Musical with Troy and Gabriella’s rooftop garden scenes. This was my shortest chapter and honestly, probably not my strongest. I definitely went into writing this with zero concept of what I actually wanted to happen. Usually when I write my chapters I have a 4k long outline of it beforehand that I go off of. Not this one though. I really just winged it and I tried my best to write a chapter that really showed off (dialogue wise) just how this couple bounces off each other. I do really like some of the banter they have in this chapter.

You had taken note a little wooden popsicle stick poking up from the soil of the yellow flowers. Acacias, they were marked. Pulling your knees up to your chest, you considered his words.

Yellow acacias stands the value of true friendship and can indicate a secret love! I thought that was very appropriate given these dummies' relationship.

“So, you probably know why I brought you here.”

You nodded.

“You’re proposing, right?”

“Yeah, I– oh, shut up.” He laughed, the serious mood shattering as you joined him.

Even though I knew they were going to have a semi serious talk, what with Y/N asking about what Kiri had told her, these two dufuses realistically are just too comfortable with each other to stay serious for too long.

“Hey, I said that out of frustration, I didn’t really mean it. I’m sure she’ll come crawling back soon.” You attempted to comfort him, hoping to sound sincere.

“Even if that’s true, I’m not entirely sure I want that anymore.”

“What?” You blinked. Jungkook shrugged.

“What about us?” He met your eyes, causing your breath to hitch.

“What about us?”

Jungkook stared at you for a moment, noting the way the timber in your voice had become higher pitched as if panicked.

MORE FUN FACTS LMFAO: I typically do this thing with unplanned chapters where I just go for it and write and usually it works out. But when I wrote this down I remember stopping and being like ??? WHY DID I JUST WRITE THAT ??? I don’t like deleting my writing so I had a serious think to myself about whether this was going to be the moment Jungkook confessed or not.

Canonly, I decided that Jungkook did in fact mean ‘us’ in a romantic sense, but because of the way you perceivably panicked at that possible meaning, he decided against taking the conversation in that direction, instead speaking about ‘us’ in a platonic sense. Poor kookie :(

“Stop. Listen to me, Jungkook, you’re a fucking great guy, okay? You’re charismatic and funny and care about your friends… sure, you almost ruined my event, but it was mostly to defend my best friend when Eunwoo got too pushy, right? You’re a good guy, meathead. I know I joke about your ego, but I really believe you’re capable of more than you think you are. Seriously, Kiri is so lucky to be the object of your affection.”

Jungkook watched the way the sun’s orange light kissed your face, a bittersweet feeling growing in his chest as he contemplated the object of his affection. Just a couple of months ago, he would have had no doubt about who held his heart, but as you held his stare, he found himself unsure and yet, entirely sure all the same.

“Jungkook? You okay?” You frowned, catching in the sadness in his eyes.

“Hm? Yeah, yeah. I just… realized something.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“…It doesn’t matter.” He smiled, the gesture hardly reaching his eyes.

It’s in this moment that Jungkook decides that there is no way you hold the same affection towards him that he does to you. He mistakes your words of comfort as you pushing him away. You are so kind and encouraging and Jungkook loves you so much that hearing you insist about him ending back up with Kiri hurts him so bad.

But you are still unsure about your feelings and genuinely believe that's still what Jungkook wants. You’re just being a supportive friend!! :( It isn’t until the end of this chapter when Y/N has her talk with Yara that she realizes, oh man, she’s in deep.

CHAPTER EIGHT – THE MISTAKE

BLAH. This chapter is so BLAH, you know? Having to write this chapter was SO HARD. I texted irl Yara complaining about how much I hated having to put my characters through this and that I wanted to just end the story on chapter 7 and keep them happy forever. BUT ALAS! I had planned for this to happen from the start.

You tasted like the mint of your favorite brand of toothpaste. He imagined if he had caught you any later then the mint would have been accompanied by the taste of coffee, knowing the way you rarely started a day without a cup.

God, he had missed the taste of you.

What you guys didn’t see is Jungkook spending the night with Kiri, and immediately kicking her out, freaking out as the weight of guilt washed over him. He knew he had done nothing wrong, that you weren’t his real girlfriend, and that getting back together with Kiri was exactly what he had signed up for. It was what he should’ve wanted. But it wasn't… because you were what he wanted. And that was exactly what he was going to tell you as he marched over to your apartment.

But he panicked. His mind already decided that your answer to him would be no– that you didn’t feel the same. So he kissed you. He had you in the only way he was allowed to. He was selfish and impulsive and so incredibly scared that he ended up hurting the person he loved the most.

Initially though, I had Jungkook get back together with Kiri, not that he slept with her right before sleeping with Y/N. But I decided TEEHEE let me just make everything erupt into flames. However, I didn’t realize just how angry with Jungkook you guys would get. I remember thinking DAMMIT WAS THAT TOO SCANDALOUS?? I knew I was going to have to work hard for Jungkook to redeem himself to my readers.

“She wants to get back together.” Jungkook swallowed dryly, eyes wavering between yours as if to gauge your reaction.

“…Oh.”

You shook your head.

“I mean, wow! That’s… That’s great!” You smiled, something tearing apart inside you as the words left your lips.

“Y/N–”

“Seriously! This means it worked, right? This is exactly what you wanted to happen.” You enthused, turning your head so that he couldn’t see the way your eyes had welled up.

Jungkook’s heart was pounding in his ears, fighting the urge to wrap his arms around you.

“Yeah… yeah, no, you’re right. We did it.” He replied monotonously.

GOD THIS PART IS SO UNBELIEVABLY FRUSTRATING! JUST ADMIT YOU LOVE EACH OTHER YOU MORONS! This entire situation is so convoluted because there's so much information missing and not being expressed, I seriously want to ring my own neck rereading this bit.

“Are you mad?” He called out cautiously, a heavy feeling falling onto his chest.

“Why would I be mad?” You quipped back sharply, causing Jungkook to flinch. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

“I just thought… I mean we’ve been fooling around a lot lately, so I didn’t know if—”

“If what? I had feelings for you?” You scoffed. “Please, as if I’d ever fall for you.”

And there it was— everything Jungkook already knew but had been so afraid to hear. Of course, you didn’t feel for him what he felt for you. How could he have expected anything different?

IDIOTS!!! THEY'RE BOTH IDIOTS!!! I don't know how y'all put up with this for so long. Forgive me.

CHAPTER NINE – THE BREAK

Okay I actually love this chapter. And for many reasons. Let me break down the three scenes for you guys.

Scene one: Kiri confrontation

Kiri is definitely an opposing antagonist. She is constantly working against Y/N because of their interests directly conflicting. BUT. I would argue that the biggest antagonist to this story is the inner ones – Y/N and Jungkook's lack of ability to admit their feelings constantly holding them both back from their happy ending. That being said, a confrontation scene between Y/N and Kiri was MUCH needed. While I suppose I can understand why Kiri doesn't like Y/N, that doesn't change the fact that she has been disrespectful and catty. So miss Y/N had to put Miss Kiri in her place (•̀��•́)

Scene two: Yara and Tae at the library

Fanservice. That is all. LMFAOOO y'all reallllyyy wanted it to happen and who am I to deny my people what they want. It was really fun getting to explore my side characters and develop them through interactions outside the two main characters. IRL Yara also mentioned giving bitchin’ Yara and Tae their own chapter as a joke and I was like LOL BET. I fully was going to but then I got the idea for the next scene and was like ahh ok maybe not the whole chapter.

Scene three: Meeting with Erik

So. This was a SUPER last minute decision. Like, it wasn’t until I was writing this chapter that I planned on Erik making an appearance. I saw a tweet with someone saying their bitchin theories and they mentioned Erik appearing out of nowhere and I was like,,, HOLD ON!!!! That could be kind of spicy ≖‿≖

I knew for a fact JK was NOT going to be forgiven in this chapter; I needed a way to lay the situation out between the two dorks without trying to seem like I was trying to sway my audience in a way that didn't make sense to the story. Y/N was rightfully angry. But she wasn't only angry about the timing of the sex. She was angry that Jungkook went back to Kiri at all and there was no way she was going to admit that. So who better to lay it all out than calculated, unbiased third party Erik. He deserved some character development after all.

I also liked the idea that Y/N had, in theory, “romantic options.” Losing Jungkook didn’t mean the end of her life. Having my female lead stand on her own was very important to me.

CHAPTER TEN – THE END

RIGHT OF THE BAT I needed Jungkook to suffer. So that whole scene where he tries to interact with his old group only for his presence to make everything awkward MMMM yes, sweet revenge on my part.

You were surprised. His hair was no longer shaggy and long like you remembered it. Instead, it had been freshly cut, looking healthy and neatly styled for the first time since you met Jungkook.

THE WAY SO MANY PEOPLE COMMENTED ON THIS LINE “but Y/N liked it long?!?” IS SO FUNNNYyyyy. So let me clarify a thing. Jungkook had always wanted to cut his hair right. The only reason he didn’t was because Y/N told him not to. With Y/N no longer in the picture to convince him out of it, he cut his hair. That’s really all there is to it skfjsjf.

You know, I had written this part around the time I had just finished up the third ch believe it or not. And it was COMPLETELY different. I had it planned that Yara and Y/N ignored him throughout class and Yara had gone back after the bell rang to go verbally assault JK. And as the two hashed it out, only then was that when Jungkook would realize that he liked Y/N after Yara literally spelled it out for him.

“You like her, dumbass!” Was what I had written Yara saying. I really had written him in denial for ten chapters, I was a whole sociopath (╥﹏╥). But ultimately, I decided that Jungkook came to that conclusion on his own and the decision to apologize to Y/N would have been made over winter break.

“You said Kiri came over asking for you back, yet you still came over and slept with me the next day. Even though the two of you had sex the night before. Do you understand how that makes me feel?”

“I’m—”

“Like garbage!" You emphasized, the white paint of the door somehow irritating you further. "I felt like I was something you threw away and picked back up whenever you felt like getting your dick wet.”

Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, and you tried your hardest to not let your emotions get the best of you.

“Not to mention to everyone else, it looks like you cheated on me. Which makes me look like a fucking idiot." You scoffed.

Jungkook said nothing in reply, which somehow made it easier to say all you should have said that day in your room.

“It just sucks to realize that someone you once cared about sees you as nothing more than a toy. It fucking sucks.”

Man :( writing this hurt my heart. I really, really, love bitchin!y/n and writing her hurting freaking stinks. But she had to speak her mind. She deserves the chance to get everything off her chest with the way Jungkook hurt her.

Your heart and mind were in constant paradox, torn between wanting him back and wanting him to know just how much he had hurt you. Your mind ultimately won the battle, of course, but as Jungkook stood just a few inches of drywood apart pouring his heart out, it was hard to say which major organ was responsible for your next words.

The creak of the door being pushed open sent Jungkook's eyes wide, revealing your hesitant form. You had your arms crossed over your chest as if to guard the contents inside of it.

You looked like an angel underneath the bathroom's blue fluorescent lights, beautiful and lovely, a stark contrast from your next crushing sentence.

“I slept with Erik.”

Hehe. Ofc my girl Y/N had to have a rebound!!! She knows that life goes on. However, as I wrote in, she definitely regretted it. It was kind of the same situation that Jungkook was in where he pursued something just because it was familiar and a distraction and not because he really wanted it. Both Y/N and Jungkook are flawed characters but that’s okay! If anything, Y/N’s mistake of sleeping with Erik is what allows her to forgive Jungkook. Knowing first hand how complicated their entire relationship really was.

“I don’t need you… but I don’t think I want a life without you.” You finished shyly.

Your eyes were locked with his when suddenly a small noise escaped him, eyes pulling away from yours as his head moved to attempt to hide the way his eyes had grown wet.

I got this line from one of my best friends after her ex broke up with her. It made me physically sad and really sympathize with her so I quickly wrote it down into my notes app to save for later LMAOOOO. Knowing that you are your own person and life will inevitably go on after losing someone, but that your heart still wants and is pleading for the one person you can’t have. SO SAD. I’m happy I got to use this line in one of my fics.

The note Jungkook wrote Y/N,,, imagine him not being able to sleep one night over winter break so he just writes down everything he should have told Y/N while he still had the chance…. I’ll for real cry dude, he’s so cute. Also, the line about him buying you fluffy Halloween socks for Christmas went over people’s heads I think but HECK I THOUGHT THAT WAS SO FUNNY AND SWEET (because Y/N bought Christmas socks when it was Halloween teehee).

"Are you two dorks done crying?" Yara’s voice rang out suddenly, causing both of you to jump apart.

"Yara, you creep! Privacy, dude! Ever try knocking?" You sniffed, wiping at your face hurriedly.

"What? Like you were peeing with Jungkook in the bathroom? Please." She waved you off, walking back into the living room to give you two some privacy. She did say Jungkook had 15 minutes before she’d have to come back in after all. "Anyway, Tae will be over in 10 minutes for the Saved By The Bell marathon that’s on so you guys are more than welcomed to join." She called out from her newly seated position on the couch.

I included this scene with Yara because things were getting too serious for my liking ngl. Plus the idea that the four of them would all come together at the end for a much needed reunion made my happy bitchin heart soar.

Jungkook let out a laugh, his palm finding your cheek, eyes locked on your lips. You were preening for his kiss, mouth parting slightly as you anticipated it.

“Partners?”

The question took you by surprise, eyes widening at your not so pretend lover.

Idiot.

“Partners.” You smiled softly, eyes shiny and brimming with tears as he kissed you for what must have been the millionth time, but still somehow felt like the first.

UGH I LOVE THEM I REALLY DO. I was so happy with how this final scene came out :( They’re partners, they really are I miss these boneheads.

AND NOW, I PRESENT THE CANON FUTURE OF THE BITCHIN UNIVERSE...

10 YEARS LATER

Let’s be honest, Jungkook popped the question the day of graduation, he can’t imagine a life in which you wouldn’t be beside him

You said yes (shocker)

Cue Jungkook being the most wonderful partner and respecting your wish to finish your residency program before having the wedding

You absolutely kick ass at being a neonatal surgeon

Also, Jungkook started a film company! It’s small but he loves what he does and works with colleges and helps out the film majors with resources and equipment <3

SO IT'S THE DAY OF YOUR WEDDING RIGHT

Yara and your sisters are helping you get ready, with your best friend as the ever so reassuring maid of honor

And by that I mean you’re as calm as a cucumber and Yara is one wrong move away from having a stroke

“Y/N… Don’t freak out....The catering company put in two orders of shrimp instead of chicken and steak.”

“Yara, it’s okay.”

“NO ITS NOT???? THIS IS YOUR WEDDING DAY AND YOU’RE GETTING CRUSTACEANS.”

Y/N making Yara take a seat and practice some breathing exercises so she doesn’t upset the baby

Oh yeah, Yara is 10 weeks pregnant

Taehyung is the dad lol

Yara and Taehyung have been together ever since that day at the library hehe <3

They moved in together and adopted a cat and everything (sweet boy Tae wanted a dog but Yara’s afraid of dogs and Tae would do anything for that woman so Yeontan the cat it is)

Yara refuses to put a label on their relationship even after all this time, and Tae doesn’t ask for one. They’re happy and dedicated to each other and don’t feel the need to put pressure on something that’s already so perfect

Yara is actually violently in love with Tae but still scoffs when Y/N tries to bring it up

“Oh my god, you’re so in love with him”

“Huh??? you must be sick or something. Get well soon, damn :/”

Yara likes to come up with different labels for Taehyung every time she has to introduce him. Among her favorites are roommate, rent sharer, baby daddy and penis lender

Speaking of Taehyung, he’d have a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder as he tries to calm down the panicking groom to be

“JK, breathe.”

“What if she doesn’t show up? What if she doesn’t want to marry me? What if I pressured her into this and— and I’ve freaked her out and now she hates me?”

“Dude, you guys have been engaged for eight years. She’s had her opportunity to run. She’ll show up.”

Taehyung scruffing up the younger man’s hair reassuringly, which only flusters him more because DAMMIT he wants to look perfect for you and now his hair is messed up >:(

(You like him no matter what his hair looks like though)

Jungkook literally swallowing down a sob as you walk down the aisle and he lays his eyes on you for the first time

You having a dumb smile on your face the entire walk over because your husband to be is crying and you haven’t even exchanged vows yet

The entire audience going all sobby when you finally do exchange vows because they’re so beautiful and real

The ten years together has not been easy— from financial struggles as you tried to support yourself through med school, to personal conflicts when Jungkook wanted to start a family already

But you guys figured it out

You always do

He’s your person. And you are his.

Y/N’s sisters Rosa and Lia are a WRECK— even your dad is tearing up

Your family loves Jungkook and have been counting down the days until you guys married, let’s be honest

“You may now kiss the bride.”

Jungkook punching the air with a “FINALLY!” before kissing the hell out of you

The cutting of the cake inevitably turning into a food fight

The shrimp entrees turning out to be pretty damn good

Yara catching the bouquet and wagging her brows at Taehyung suggestively

Jungkook pulling you aside to take photos of you outside the venue because you look so so pretty and he loves the way you smile when he’s the one behind the camera

The party is in full session, your siblings tearing up the dance floor like the extroverts they are

You and Jungkook are sat at the head of the room, hands intertwined underneath the table as you watch a tired and painfully sober Yara swing her bare feet onto Taehyung’s lap, requesting a foot rub

Watching your pregnant best friend and her lover together, you turned towards your own, smile impossibly wide

“What?”

“Let’s have a baby.” You’d grin, so stupid happy

Jungkook’s eyes going round and immediately jumping up from his seat because god that’s all he’s ever wanted

Being tugged out the room by a giddy Jungkook, one of your heels flinging off somewhere behind you.

“What’s happening? Where are we going?!”

The two of you find yourself in a storage room somewhere on the hotel floor

“Jeon Jungkook, what the hell—“

His mouth find yourself, kissing you in a way that couldn’t at the altar

You kissed him back without questions, arms wrapping around the man you now called your husband

“I love you.” He’d sigh into your neck, his hot breath causing you to shiver

“I love you too.”

“Let’s make a baby.”

“Yeah let’s— wait, right here? Right now?!”

Jungkook merely nodding as his mouth found the exposed skin of your chest

“Meathead, we can’t just ditch our wedding to have sex!”

“Why not? We did our marital duties. Now it’s our guests' job to get embarrassingly drunk and make a fool of themselves on the dance floor. No one will even miss us.”

“Isn’t baby making what our honeymoon is for?”

“Screw that. I’ve done my waiting. Let’s start our family, nerd.”

Jungkook kissing your protests silent before you inevitably give in and let him take you right there and then, your wedding dress hung around your hips

Husband and wife coming together with shaky breaths and hushed moans as they promise the rest of their lives to each other, making every argument, struggle or moment of uncertainty leading up to now totally worth it

Walk of shame back into the party with nervous hair fixing from you and a proud grin from Jungkook

Yara figuring out exactly why you two had sneaked off to, flashing the newly weds a knowing smirk

The night of your wedding, Jungkook surprises you with a present

You unwrap it in confusion, only to see that it’s a glass frame and inside of it is the wrinkled and worn out lined paper the two of you had scribbled on many many years ago

Jungkook hangs up the contract right above your bed as per your request, smiling as he does and jumping on him the moment he puts down the hammer bc dammit it you’re too heckin excited to make love with your sentimental loser of a husband

And yes, by the next month, you are pregnant and incredibly happy

And of course, your daughter and Yara’s son grow up to be best friends, not a family holiday passing by where they aren’t told the story of the totally bitchin’ way both set of their parents got together

#beyond the story #bts smut #Jungkook smut #bts jungkook #bts #bts imagines #bts preferences #Jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook

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lazywonderlvnd · 3 years

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*hesitantly steps in the box* Umm.. soo.. I was listening to Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift again and that song (is awesome btw if you haven't listened to it already) just gives me such MAJOR drarry vibes .. like -

" And I screamed, 'for whatever it's worth I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?' He looks up grinning like a devil. "

Like if that's not drarry I'd chomp my pillows. So .. *twiddling thumbs* could you pls write something with that line as a prompt?? Pretty please 🥺🥺🥺❤️❤️❤️ maybe use the song as inspiration.. idk? Whatever you like. ALSO, don't forget I STILL LOVE YOU that ain't changing yet and you haven't seen the last of me! Imma tail after you for eternity and you better take that as the threat it is! *throws love at you* BYE!! ❤️❤️ *vaults outside the box*

my sweetest most loved angel!! thank u so much for this prompt based on a BOP i was obsessed w when the album first came out. it got sm longer than it was meant to be, so it can be found on ao3 as well!! i hope u like it ilysm ❤️❤️❤️❤️

warnings for minor drug use (weed) and implied suicide of a minor character (lucius, extremely vague reference but pls be aware!)

rating: e word count: ~5k

When Pansy asked him how it started, Draco discovered that he didn’t know what to tell her.

Technically, though, it had started at Ernie Macmillan’s party in the beginning of summer, with the cloying scent of Freesias and Freedom Roses (“Imported from the States,” Ernie told Draco pompously, when he asked) and all those string-lights dangling from the cedar pergola, perennial balls of fire inside their clear bubbles like tiny trapped suns. Cheap beer in plastic cups, Marlboro cigarettes, and some stupid Muggle game ... darts.

Technically.

* * *

“Get off me, Potter,” Draco says in a failed whisper. He’s laughing and drunk and fuzzy warm under a sprawling summer’s night sky that looks like black paint. Potter tastes like Guinness every time he kisses him, and his hands are surprisingly soft. In direct opposition to his own command he pulls Potter in by the face and glues their mouths back together ravenously. The alcohol makes him sloppy (he likes it, though — the sloppiness of it) and Potter’s skin is warm where Draco slides his hand under an ugly Muggle band T-shirt to touch.

Around the corner, he can hear music coming from the patio where nearly every single one of their former classmates are gathered, drinking and laughing and getting along famously with a much-needed buffer of five years between them and their Hogwarts days.

Much-needed for himself and Potter as well. Apparently.

He sees him sometimes, at get-togethers like this or around the Ministry, once or twice at a dinner party thrown by a mutual friend. They’re always cordial. He hasn’t insulted Potter to his face in five years.

Except for tonight, when he couldn’t help himself loudly drawing attention to the similarities between Potter’s hair and one of the shrubs in the garden. But they’re kissing now round the side of the house and because of that he’s quite glad for his slip. And it’s their five-year reunion, so. What would it be without some bickering between the two of them?

Potter presses him into the bricks and snogs him breathless, only he keeps grinning and laughing and ruining everything just when Draco starts losing himself in it.

“Quit laughing,” he scolds him. “You’re the worst, Potter. No etiquette at all.”

“That’s rude,” Potter says. His breath wafts across Draco’s mouth. His eyes are excessively green behind their round frames, which have not changed since their school days. The scar is mostly hidden beneath his wild fringe, save for the very bottom where it slashes neatly through a dark eyebrow and touches his eyelid. “I can’t help it, I’m pissed good and proper.”

His hand moves to Draco’s hip and even through the thickness of the alcohol coating his brain like a muffler he feels that touch clear and ripe as daybreak.

“So that’s why you’ve decided to snog me rather than …” He waves a hand vaguely, in lieu of the proper witticism with which he might normally have trounced Potter. “You know. Beat me to a pulp.”

“I only did that one time,” Potter says, grinning. Grinning and moving his thumb in circles on Draco’s hip. “And it was because you were being a twat. And I didn’t beat you to a pulp. You’re so dramatic.”

“Semantics,” Draco says. “I had a bloody nose.”

“And you deserved it.”

“Now who’s being rude?”

Potter kisses him again.

Guinness and Freesias.

* * *

“Macmillan’s party,” he told Pansy. “He kissed me.”

“So that’s where you disappeared to.” She looked smug. Her inch-long nails were sharpened to a point and painted a glossy black, and she drummed them against her cheek, the way a cat flicks its tail. “I’m surprised you kept it from me this whole time.”

“Well,” said Draco, lowering his gaze to his glass of wine and watching it flirt dangerously with the lip as he swirled it. His cheeks felt warm, but he wasn’t embarrassed. “We snuck around.”

Right, maybe a little embarrassed. Mostly conflicted.

“Oh?” For a single syllable the laughter underneath was remarkably transparent.

He looked up, eyebrows lifted. “Yes,” he said a little defensively. “For obvious reasons. At first it was just sex. A lot of it, so he usually came here. Apparently Granger and the Weasel are notorious for popping round his place unexpectedly.”

* * *

He feels opened up all over again every time Potter fucks into him, unhurried and so careful. His hand is hot on Draco’s thigh, both of them sticky with sweat and come. This has to be their third round at least, and Draco’s sluggish brain insists it might actually be four.

An open window lets in the late afternoon air, humid and drowsy and perfumed heavily with flowers (a la Macmillan, Draco planted Freesias and Freedom Roses outside his bedroom window and helped them along to full bloom with some careful magic). Potter’s hair is damp with sweat — from exertion and the relentless heat of July — and Draco slides his fingers into it, tangles them and pulls the way he’s learned Potter likes. If he’s honest, he’s harboured a very secret and very desperate yearning to touch Potter’s hair since he was quite young. He doesn’t know why.

Well, maybe he knows why.

Potter makes a quiet, whimpered noise that curls Draco’s toes. He speeds up his hips, closing in on his orgasm and putting his face in Draco’s neck even though it’s too fucking hot for it.

“Fuck,” Draco whines. He tries to lift his leg higher, wrap it around Potter’s waist to get that perfect angle, but they’re too slick with sweat and he lets out a frustrated noise when it falls back to the bed. “Potter,” he says helplessly, arching into each thrust and shaking with the effort. This third (fourth?) orgasm is building too slowly, sitting there hard and stubborn and heavy in his gut and refusing to be coaxed to completion. He’s dripping with the effort, muscles quivering. “Please — I need —”

But he seems to have figured it out for himself. He scoots forward, lifting Draco’s arse higher off the bed and bending him nearly in half. The angle helps him go deeper and he’s suddenly nudging Draco’s oversensitive prostate every time he fucks back in.

“Right there,” Draco gasps, tensing as this new angle lights a fire under his elusive orgasm. His cock is leaking but he doesn’t have the strength or energy to get a hand around it. Potter’s grunting with the effort of fucking him, sweat dripping down his temples and making his neck and torso gleam. “Right there, god, right there, please, I’m so close —”

Potter braces himself and redoubles his efforts, and it’s like he’s reached inside Draco and sunk his claws into that building storm in his belly because suddenly it’s ripped right out of him in a colossal wave of euphoria that approaches too much, cock spurting untouched between them . Potter keeps moving inside him while he rides it out, and at some point he feels the warm, wet explosion of Potter emptying in him, mumbling incoherent things that include Draco’s name.

They come down together too. Draco is clutching Potter’s arms and trying to catch his breath and Potter is trembling and clutching him back like an anchor in a veritable ocean of sensation.

It’s like this every time.

When Potter drops down onto the bed beside him Draco rolls over and kisses him, long and deep and satisfying, and Potter reciprocates with the kind of intensity that is completely unique to him as a person.

“That one was particularly good,” says Potter, and Draco laughs.

When he feels like moving, he knows that Potter will get up and go to Draco’s kitchen and make tea for both of them, and he won’t need to ask what Draco likes, because he remembered after the first time. They’ll drink it naked in bed as the sun sets on another endless summer day and transforms before their eyes into a humid and pungent summer night, in the midst of which they will fuck at least three more times, and Potter will keep smelling like sweat and bergamot and boy, and Draco will keep feeling starved for him.

And they won’t talk about it.

* * *

“And?” Pansy said.

“And what?”

“You said ‘at first,’” she pointed out, and arched a groomed eyebrow. “When did it turn into more than just sex?”

Draco tamped down on a smile, because that would have been more emotion than he cared to show at the moment. To Pansy or to himself.

He swirled his wine again and took a long sip, stalling. He wanted — needed, really — to talk this out with her, but he was becoming aware of an uncomfortable heaviness in his chest which was suggesting to him that he didn’t want to share everything. Not because he was embarrassed, but, well … it was private. It was between him and Harry.

“There was this one night he came over later than he was supposed to because of work,” Draco said. The memory stirred some emotion. He hadn’t thought of it in a while. “He had this bloody huge takeout bag of Thai food.”

* * *

He sets it down on Draco’s desk, takes out a container, and after toeing off his shoes drops sideways onto Draco’s bed with it and uses chopsticks to shovel in a mouthful of noodles. Draco watches this in awe.

“Want some?” Harry asks once he’s swallowed (small blessings). There’s grease around his mouth. “There’s a million other things in the bag but you have to get it yourself. I’m dead tired.”

Draco thinks of asking what the hell is going on, because they’re supposed to be fucking by now, but something stops him. Harry really does look exhausted but quite content eating his Thai food on Draco’s bed, and he doesn’t have the heart to berate him for it or remind him that they’re fuck buddies, not friends, and that if he’d wanted to eat and lounge about perhaps he should’ve stayed at home.

And the food really does smell good.

He gets up and fishes another container out of the bag that turns out to be some sort of heavenly-smelling marinated beef, which he brings back to the bed. Harry’s rolled onto his back and has the container of noodles balanced on his stomach.

“They thought they found a Horcrux on a raid,” he says. His voice is perfectly casual, but Draco thinks he can see something troubled in his eyes. He has one foot crossed over the other and it’s bouncing anxiously; he doesn’t think Harry’s aware of doing it. “Wasn’t. Obviously.”

“But they needed your expert advice to be sure.”

“Yeah.” Harry looks at him, then his food. “Is that the beef?”

“Yes it is.”

“Good?”

“Haven’t tried it yet.”

He opens the container and chooses a piece, but instead of lifting it to his mouth he follows some crazy impulse and hovers it over Harry’s instead.

“Open, Scarhead,” he says. Harry blinks but does it, and Draco drops it in. He smiles, then chews.

“Brilliant.”

* * *

“We ate it instead of fucking. It was the first time I realised something had shifted.”

“And you let it shift?”

The question gave him pause. He didn’t answer right away, mulling it over. It made it sound as if he’d had a choice, and that wasn’t quite right.

“It already had,” he said finally. “It wasn’t a matter of letting it; by the time I noticed, it had already happened. Otherwise he wouldn’t have come over with the food.”

“But you did let it continue,” said Pansy. She wasn’t antagonising him, nor accusing him of anything. She looked amused, but not in a way that was at his expense. Pansy was both a twat and a fiercely good friend, the combination of which meant she would do nothing more or less than hold up a mirror and force you to look at yourself, gruesome as the experience inevitably wound up being. “Even after you realised he had feelings for you.”

Draco swallowed. He’d not heard it said aloud before now.

“Yes,” he said. “It felt good. Knowing he fancied me.”

* * *

Harry’s shameless in his staring.

He stands in the doorway of the ensuite bathroom and watches Draco like he’s been invited to do so. Draco pretends not to notice, stretched out in a tub full of bubbles facing the opposite way. There’s incense burning, and candles. Harry is completely silent, but Draco could feel those eyes on him from across a crowded hall.

They fucked a few hours ago and fell asleep afterwards. Draco pretended not to think about it, but had actually made the conscious decision to let Harry continue sleeping when he woke up and decided he wanted a bath.

When he can’t take it anymore he opens his eyes and tilts his head back and a little to the side, just enough that he gets Potter in his peripherals.

“Well?” he says.

“Well what?”

“Join me, won’t you?”

Harry snorts. Then there’s a quiver of magic in the air, and a small, utilitarian chair appears out of thin air beside the tub. Harry sits down in it. He’s holding the joint they’d only gotten halfway through earlier.

He’s in his jeans and nothing else, all limbs and sparse chest hair, and when he crosses a leg over the other one, elbow resting on his knee as he hits the joint, Draco feels a bone-deep attraction to him that’s beyond physical.

“May I?” Draco asks. Harry hands it over and Draco inhales deeply before returning it. The humidity of the room mixes with the smoke and the smell of marijuana, pungent and cloying like the flowers.

After a length of silence, Draco says, “Will you read me something?”

“Will I what?”

He takes his wand from the floor and Summons a book from the shelf in his room — one of his poetry collections comes sweeping in through the cracked door and into Harry’s lap. Harry sticks the joint between his lips and starts rifling through it with his glasses all fogged up.

When he starts reading Byron (“I had a dream, which was not all a dream”) Draco smiles and sinks deeper into the hot water and bubbles, letting Harry’s voice lull him into a pleasant stupor.

* * *

“So you led him on,” said Pansy. “Because you liked his attention.”

He stared at her, then let his gaze drop to his wine again. Had he?

“It sounds bad when you say it like that.”

“Well,” she said, smiling wryly, “I’m only saying it as you’ve told it to me. Maybe if it sounds bad, it is bad. Some things are that simple, darling. Unless there’s more to it.”

“Like what?” he said, not looking at her. There was a touch of pouty defiance in his voice he knew Pansy would detect instantly. He heard her sigh.

“What exactly happened yesterday, Draco? You didn’t give me any context.”

“What context do you need?” he muttered. “He told me he loved me.”

* * *

They’ve finished an entire bottle of wine between them. He’s not drunk, but he’s pleasantly buzzed. Harry’s sprawled on his back, T-shirt rucked up just below his navel so Draco can see the dark trail of hair leading below his jeans. There’s something implicitly erotic about the movement of his chest when he breathes, his hands folded behind his head, one leg stretched the length of the bed and the other bent at the knee.

He opens his eyes suddenly and grins when he sees Draco looking at him.

“That wine just made me tired,” he says.

“So go to sleep,” says Draco. He takes a last swig, emptying it, and sets the bottle aside on his night table. He stretches his arms over his head and arches his back, yawning widely, thinking perhaps he’ll give into the tempting allure of sleep as well when Harry says, “I told Hermione about us.”

So he’s not sleeping, then. His stomach clenches hard and a completely irrational sense of panic rises in his throat.

“Us?” he says slowly, sitting up straighter. “What ‘us’?”

Harry looks at him upside-down, then rolls over and rises to his knees. He stares at Draco blankly.

“‘What us?’” he repeats.

“Yes,” says Draco. “What ‘us’?”

“Us,” Harry says. His voice is lower than usual. The word is starting to sound weird and lose meaning. “You and me, Draco.”

“‘You and me?’ Harry, there’s no you and me. We’re just fucking. What do you … what do you mean, you told Granger? Told her what?”

Harry looks … well, he looks fucking crushed. And angry. Draco forces himself not to look away.

“I told her I’d been seeing you,” he says quietly. There’s something … not threatening, but close to it, in his voice.

“Sure,” says Draco. “I see you three times a week, sometimes four. I s’pose if you feel the need to fill Granger in on everything you do with every second of your day —”

“Shut up, Draco,” Harry says. “You know what I meant.”

Draco glares at him. He gets off the bed, slightly lightheaded from the wine, horrified by the emotions welling up inside him right behind the panic, and he points at his bedroom door.

“Get out,” he says.

“Are you serious?”

“Go!” he says loudly, voice rising. “If you’re gonna start turning this into something it definitely is not then get out of my flat, Potter.” As usual the window is open, but it’s the third of September and getting chilly finally and Draco’s Freesias and Freedom Roses started wilting last week. There’s a chilly breeze coming into that room that is utterly barren of the sweet smells of summer he associates with Harry these days. “It’s time we ended this anyway,” he says. “Summer’s over.”

“So?” From his position kneeling on Draco’s bed Harry shouldn’t feel imposing at all, but he does. There’s no sparkle of humour in his eyes, none of the softness Draco’s gotten used to seeing there. He looks like someone who’s realised they’ve been betrayed.

Worse than that. Someone who’s been betrayed and realises they should have seen it coming.

“What the fuck does summer have to do with anything?”

“Ever heard of a summer fling, Potter? We’re not ‘seeing each other’.”

Harry finally gets off the bed. Draco’s stomach clenches again, more painfully this time. He doesn’t feel bad, he tells himself — this is Harry’s fault. His fault for making a big deal out of something easy and fun and, most of all, temporary. For ruining this with feelings.

“That’s not what this was,” Harry says. It’s not an argumentative tone; rather, he sounds disappointed. Devastated, and disappointed. And that look of betrayal, like he’s surprised but not … that surprised.

That hurts.

“This was as real as it gets, Draco,” he says matter-of-factly. “You and I don’t have the capability of doing anything as shallow as a fling.”

“Well, Potter,” says Draco, straining to maintain his level voice, “congratulations, because that is the most disgusting, romanticised, Gryffindorian piece of shit I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah?” He grabs up his wand from the bedside table and stuffs it into his jeans pocket. “Well here’s another: I love you. You complete fucking prick.”

Draco stares after him as he leaves the room, cowed for the moment. He hears Harry take the Floo powder off his mantle, hears the fire start, and then the sound of Potter disappearing.

And he feels hollow suddenly.

* * *

“And he said it completely out of the blue?”

Draco set his wine aside. He was suddenly feeling too sick to put anything else in his body.

“Sort of,” he said quietly, avoiding her eyes. “He was trying to make something out of nothing. He was just making a point, trying to guilt me, I don’t even think he meant it.”

Pansy said nothing for so long that Draco finally looked up. She had an eyebrow raised.

“Do you really believe that?” she said.

Draco didn’t answer right away. He glanced at the bottle of wine on the table and thought about the way it always tasted a little sweeter on Harry’s lips.

“I don’t know,” he said. “No. But it doesn’t change anything. It was a summer thing, not a … a relationship, for crying out loud. Like I’d date Potter.”

“Why not?”

Draco scoffed. “Why not? Pansy, please. He’s a …”

“A …?”

“He’s an idiot! He’s Potter! He’s …” He couldn’t think of the right word, something bad enough to express the audacity, the gall , for Potter to think even for a second that they could …

“Draco Malfoy,” said Pansy. She was smirking. “You love him too.”

Had he felt sick before? Now he was going to be sick.

“I never would’ve imagined it,” she went on, seeming to take pleasure from his outrage and humiliation. The bint. “Look at you, you’re blushing! Oh my god,” she laughed. And then she stopped laughing, and instead the weight of her own words appeared to descend on her. “Oh my god. You do, don’t you? You are arse over tits for Harry Potter —”

He was up and out of his chair before she’d finished the last word, absurdly, embarrassingly on the verge of tears all of a sudden.

“Draco —”

“I’m glad this can serve as your entertainment for the week, Pansy,” he said. A tear rolled down his cheek — could he be any more histrionic? — and he brushed it away furiously.

“Draco, no —”

“Call Blaise, tell him!” he shouted. “You two can have a good laugh over it —”

“Draco —”

“Poor Draco’s fucked himself over again, what a stupid wanker!”

Pansy got up. He slapped her hand away when she reached for him, but she only came at him again and grabbed it this time when he swatted at her, enfolding it in both of hers. He closed his eyes and hiccoughed and two more tears came.

“Darling, will you please listen to me?” she said softly. It sounded eerily like his mother, which only made him feel young and childish. He tugged his arm away and she let him go, but he didn’t move any farther away. “I am not laughing at you,” she told him. “Blaise might, but that’s because Blaise has a black hole for a heart, Draco, the only emotion he’s ever felt is disdain.” Against his will, Draco chuckled wetly. Pansy smiled and took his hand again, tentatively. He allowed it. “ I think it’s lovely that you have feelings for him. I don’t understand what’s got you so upset, I mean … I know it’s Potter, but we’re not teenagers anymore, right? Who cares?”

Draco exhaled a long sigh.

“He let my father go to Azkaban,” he said softly, looking into her eyes. He saw comprehension dawning. “How can I be with someone who could’ve saved my father’s life and chose not to, Pansy?”

“No one could have saved your father, Draco,” said Pansy gravely. His throat was tight, swollen. He hated that he was hanging on her words, looking for truth in them, wanting to hear something that would make this okay. “He would have done the same thing if they’d let him go back to the manor. It’s not your fault or your mum’s or Potter’s.”

“But —”

“But what?” she cut him off sharply. “Draco, please don’t let your father keep controlling your life from the grave! My god, you deserve happiness, don’t you see that? Even if it’s Potter! In fact, I … I think that could be really good.”

“What, being with Potter?”

“Yes, being with Potter,” she said. “Darling, I say this because I love you: you need to grow a pair of bollocks and start taking control of your own life. I’m not finished!” she added when he opened his mouth to retort. “I understand that it feels like a betrayal of your father, I do, and I’m not saying you can’t have your cherished memories of him, but Draco … you cannot live your life in his shadow, doing things because it’s what he’d want or wouldn’t want. I think that choosing to explore these feelings you have for Potter is the bravest and healthiest thing you could possibly do for yourself.”

He stared at her for a long moment, eyes wet though the tears had stopped falling.

“What if it doesn’t last?” he said finally. “What if next week he realises it was a huge mistake?”

“First of all, I doubt that,” said Pansy with a roll of her eyes that was clearly meant to be teasing. “You said you’ve been seeing him all summer, that’s plenty of time to have gotten sick of you. And, even if that did happen, I still think it would be entirely worth that week of being disgustingly in love.”

“Do you?” he drawled.

“Yes! I do!” She picked up his discarded wine glass from before and held it up. “Does the effect of alcohol last forever?”

“No …”

“Of course not! And we don’t expect it to. We expect to have fun while we’re drunk and it’ll last as long as it lasts.”

“Dating someone isn’t like being drunk, Pansy,” Draco said sourly.

“Oh, that’s not the point ,” she huffed. “We don’t do things because we know they’ll last forever, we do them because we want to. In the moment.”

“Sounds irresponsible.”

“Well, of course it is,” she scoffed. “Love is completely irresponsible, that’s the fun of it, Draco. Now take this,” she shoved the glass of wine into his hand, almost spilling it. “Drink up, and then get your arse over to his flat and fix this.”

* * *

Granger opened the door. Draco sighed.

“Hello, Granger,” he said lamely. Her raised eyebrows said she was surprised and thoroughly unimpressed by his appearance.

“Malfoy,” she said.

“Is Potter in?”

“I guess that depends.”

“On?”

She looked at him, dark brown eyes impenetrable. Then she closed the front door behind her.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“To talk to him,” he said tightly. As if this whole thing wasn’t bad enough, now he had to pass a test to get past Granger the bridge troll. “I thought he told you —”

“He did,” she said flatly. “And about yesterday.”

“Well I’m here to apologise,” said Draco. Granger’s eyebrows lifted again. Still unimpressed. “And to tell him …” He sighed again and broke eye contact, willing himself not to give up, not to take this as a sign he should just go home and ream into Pansy for giving him such bad advice.

“Malfoy.” He looked up. Her voice was softer now, and her eyes seemed a little less hard. “What are you doing? You really hurt him, you know.”

“I know,” he said stiffly. “I said I’m here to apologise.”

“Well he doesn’t need an apology,” she said. “If you’re only going to let him down again —”

“I’m not.” He rubbed his forehead and looked at her again, exasperated, defeated. “I’ve … had some sense talked into me.”

She looked like it was the last thing she’d been expecting.

“Have you?”

“Yes,” he said. “So would you please get him for me before I lose my nerve?”

It was the right thing to say. Her expression melted into something much softer and he fancied he even saw the beginnings of a smile.

“Can I ask who affected this change of heart?”

“Pansy,” he said. And, when Granger seemed taken aback, “She’s very wise when she feels like it.”

“I see. Well …” She still looked a bit conflicted, eyeing him and then putting her hand on the doorknob. “All right. I’ll tell him you’re here, anyway, but he was really hurt, Malfoy. I don’t know if he’ll want to hear it.”

“I’ll take my chances,” he said.

Granger eyed him another moment and then went back inside, shutting the door behind her. Draco only had to wait a minute before it was opening again, and this time Harry came out. The sight of him made Draco’s heart feel tender and sore.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi, Potter.”

He waited to see if Harry would say anything else but he didn’t. He only stared at Draco expectantly, arms folded, in all ways closed off.

“I came to apologise,” said Draco.

“Well you can keep it,” said Harry. “I don’t need an apology because you told me the truth.”

“It wasn’t the truth, Potter,” Draco said quietly. “Opposite, really.”

Harry was silent. Then, “You made me feel like shit, Draco.”

“I know. I’m sorry. You freaked me out, springing it on me like that.”

A beat, then two, and then suddenly Harry was dropping his arms and sighing and he looked at Draco with so much vulnerability he nearly had to turn away from it.

“I didn’t mean to tell you …” He licked his lips, scratched his arm. It reminded Draco that beneath everything, Harry was still the same awkward dorky leader-of-the-losers he’d always been, just with a bit more confidence now and the title of Official Saviour of the Wizarding World. “I wouldn’t have said that if … I was just angry.”

He didn’t need to ask what Harry was referring to.

“I know.”

“Not that I didn’t … I mean, I … I do —”

“Please don’t say it again,” Draco said. Harry laughed.

“Right. I just meant … I really do have feelings for you, Draco. Like … mad, crazy feelings, y’know? I don’t want it to be a fling.”

“It wasn’t a fling,” he said. He moved a little closer and Harry watched him carefully, eyes flickering once down to Draco’s mouth. “I didn’t even sleep with anyone else the whole time.”

“Well that’s good to know,” said Harry sardonically. But he was smiling, so Draco found himself smiling tentatively as well.

“I wanna be with you, Potter. Properly. I thought …” But he shakes his head, deciding that now isn’t the time to explain about his father. “I thought it was a stupid idea. Now I realise that it probably is, but that I don’t really care much. I’ve decided to ignore my better judgment this one time.”

“That’s quite Gryffindor of you,” Harry commented drily.

“Yes, well.”

“So I go against your better judgment, then?”

“Potter,” Draco sighed. “Please, I don’t mean it like —”

“I’m taking the piss, Draco,” Harry cut him off. He reached for Draco’s waist and pulled him close, and before Draco could get his breath back from a short, surprised intake of breath Harry’s mouth was on his, warm and familiar and soothing. He brought his hands to Harry’s face and kissed back without bothering to hide his overwhelming relief.

Harry chased his mouth when he pulled away and Draco breathed out a laugh, holding him at bay with a hand on his chest.

“We have plenty of time,” he said. “D’you wanna come over later tonight, after your friends leave?”

“What? No, come in.” He took Draco’s hand and gestured with his head towards the door. “Please. It’s just Ron and Hermione. They know everything.”

“Really?” Draco drawled. “And you think Weasley won’t try to kill me?”

“I promise not to let him,” Harry grinned. “Please, Draco. You said you wanted to do this properly, right?”

He thought of what Pansy said about being irresponsible, and decided it was worth a try at least.

“Okay,” he said. Harry beamed and tugged him inside.

Towards his ultimate downfall or towards the beginning of the rest of his life, he didn’t know. That, as Pansy would have said, was the fun of it.

#anna writes #answered #drarry fic #god i had sm fun writing this tysm for the prompt 😩

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yenafmd · 2 years

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introducing: nam yena (again).

surprise bitches, i bet y’all thought you’d seen the last of me. but no, i have no shame or self restraint and have returned after barely one month after my dramatic leave, believe me, i’m tired of my own bullshit too. for everyone that is new and has not met met yet (good for y’all ngl) i’m jamie! i hail from gmt+2, go by she/her pronouns and am 22 years old and i’m your resident overly emotional pisces, as understated by... all of this. i had told myself i’d be out of famed a little while longer, aiming for like, early next year after my exams etc etc but then i said,,, sike,,, and came back now. so here we are. below the cut, i’ll leave a rundown of yena. not much has changed in a months time, she’s back in her wild party girl era but other than that, she’s the same old girl we all.... tolerate? as for now, you can find here BIOGRAPHY, CONNECTIONS and PROFILE all up and running. if you wanna plot, do like this post, slide into my ims or hmu on d*sc*rd: winter gf goeun#5703 !

triggers: emotionally abusive parenting, allusions to hypersexualisation, implied alcoholism

so basics first, nam yena, yenny, 26 year old, cis female, she/her

she’s the... everything of calypso

ok no she’s their maknae, lead vocal, lead dancer, lead rapper, i know it’s a lot bear w/ me

she grew up in incheon as the middle one out of 5 daughters (...and oh boy... can you tell... the middle child syndrome is REAL) in a very strict traditional household, dad was never home and always working, mom was micro-managing every aspect of their lives

yena kinda was always the odd one out, wasn’t particularly gifted academically, didn’t really pull off the soft nd prim nd proper thing her mother demanded of her

there was a lot of rivalry between the sisters, to be the best, to get whatever little attention their parents held over them as a price to be won, needless to say there wasn’t much support to be found there either

yena hit her teenage years and realized that obviously she wasn’t gonna find the attention and love she was looking for at home and that’s when she discovered External Validation and oh boy has she not been the same ever since

got street-scouted for dimensions for having a pretty face and then skipped school to attend the auditions she somehow bullshitted herself thru on absolutelty 0 training

parents were Big Mad when they found out lol but they were also kind of frustrated of dealing with their Bad Child so they just shipped her off to seoul so 1) it would be someone elses problem and 2) in the hopes that if it blew up in her face she’d finally realize they were like Right or whtvr

as a trainee yena was kind of shoved into everything, like dimensions’ silly lil guinea pig, she came in as a blank slate and while she didn’t turn out to be outstanding in Any field, she picked all of them up quite well so dimensions was like ok bet bestie

didn’t debut w/ calypso initially cuz she was like too young and hadn’t trained enough yet

only sike she debuted half a year later anyway cuz calypso was kinda messy w all these members leaving and suddenly she was trained well enough ig???

(spoiler alert: she wasn’t, dimensions was just fumbling but whtvr)

kinda sucked in their early years ngl but made up for it w/ sheer enthusiasm cuz wow this was her dream even if their music kinda sucked or whtvr and she could hardly sing live without embarassing herself

but like stuff got better as she got more experience and she slowly grew into the bad bitch we all know and??? love ig???

calypso got sexier and yena shed the last of all the doctrination she had received at home only to tip to the entirely wrong end of the scale, suddenly she was a sexi party queen with a big mouth and a mild drinking problem

nam yena only works in extremes ok its either shy wallflower or absolutely insane i don’t make the rules

calypso hit like, their little relevancy peak in 2014 and after that she slowly got pushed into more solo work as well

if she alrdy did a fuckton of different things in calypso get ready for her solo work cuz dimensions was like, youre gonna do all the things, brand deals, acting, magazine shoots, variety

pretty privilege ig

no but yena’s biggest skills as an idol mainly lay in how likeable she can appear on camera and how hot she is and dimensions heavily leaned into that

yena rlly loved all her lil side projects and esp rlly rlly fell in love with acting

still enjoyed being an idol too but after their like 5 seconds of fame w/ expectation and female president, calypso kinda fell off again and now, like, 7 years later, not much has looked up for them since

doesn’t like, actively want to disband but she is just, burned out ig? so she wouldn’t really mind it either? like switching to some acting label and going all in on that rather than just, having to tend to a pretty much dead music career

definitely favors her personal activities and ends up cutting corners on her efforts as a calypso member when she doesn’t have the headspace/energy to give all her responsibilities 100%

(dw, this whole dramatic arc will only last for three months on, when calypso has their chart reversal.... i will not be held responsible for the person yena will be... gosh she will be INSUFFERABLE)

uh tidbits on her personality:

yena is definitely like the problematic drunk aunt, offering her juniors cigarettes behind the dimensions building and teaching them how to avoid their managers and all that

very loud and very outspoken, the kind of big mouth that could get her in trouble if she wasn’t so good at hiding all of that on camera, in her personal life tho, she Will go off and she will throw hands bitch

definitely tips into like, jaded and wary territory at times when it comes to trusting ppl and their intentions but thats just a lot of family trauma and generally shitty experiences with mainly men as a highly sexualised idol

big everybody wants to date me nobody wants to love me energy, being highly desirable and praised for being pretty has kinda fucked w/ her head and her self-esteem, definitely leans into like vain and super-ficial territory at times because of it

notorious party girl, knows all the good places idols sneak off to to get fucked up, has shown up to work morbidly hungover multiple times but haha nothing problematic about any of that :))

bi queen but also seeking external validation queen and attachement issues queen, good luck to anyone who like l*ves her or whatever

again, kind of cuts corners as an idol from time to time, has had some subpar vocal moments, lazy dancing, obvious lipsyncing but nothing rlly big ever came from it cuz... ngl who cares rlly anyway?

fiercly protective friend though, will not stand for any bs on behalf of the people she cares ab, also enabling friend, if u tell her u killed someone she’ll be like

material gworl, not all that ridiculously rich (tho her personal schedules definitely help in that aspect) but loves pretty shiny glittery things. very heavily into traditionally ‘femine’ things like make-up and fashion, again, tends to get a bit super-ficial but god damn it let her enjoy the things she likes and that make her feel good, they’re probably the least harmful of her hobbies

tends to jealous and competitive behaviors, very much rooted in her childhood

dang this all got v sad and shit but like haha at least she’s hot and she knows it!!!

basically yena is a trainwreck but like a fun one with glittery eyeshadow and a nice ass so pls be her friend!!!

#✿ — ooc.#famedintro #emotionally abusive parenting tw #hypersexualisation tw #alcoholism tw #//im going to keep using her old blog just... ignore anything ic that comes before this post yeah?#//is it the most convenient? no but i dont have the heart to delete any of it #//nd im too lazy to make a new blog

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 4 years

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Comte AU Event

Aight because I have Comte brainworms (is this a surprise to anybody I sure hope not), there’s something I’ve just been thinking about a lot ever since completing one of the story events a month ago:

The cover art being very sexy aside, I naturally did Comte’s story event and I have yet to move on. Namely because of one specific line. (Disclaimer: Keep in mind I don’t mean to say I’m an expert, I just translate for fun--I don’t have the same prowess as an official linguist. That being said starts the circus music let the show go on)

"...it amazed me. You never stopped trying, never stopped helping others or gave up on them--even while every day was a living hell for you."

This is the line I want to dive into, but before I can really talk about it, we need proper context.

Event spoilers below:

This event is a little different since it’s an AU, so the mansion and its residents don’t exist. (Comte lives in the mansion on his own, but it’s not the same one we know.) Instead Comte, Leo, and Arthur are stand alone suitors who have turned MC into a vampire. Because MC has no clear memory of how and/or why it happened, MC is seeking vengeance against her paired hottie--and fully intends to end their life one way or another.

Aside from how sexy revenge is and how much I love the enemies to lovers trope, Comte’s entire storyline gave me more life than I can humanly convey. Here goes nothing!

So it begins with MC knocking on his door and Comte answers it and literally just stares at her silently like some kind of Furby. MC starts out by saying she’s been trying to narrow down the bastard that ruined her life and her search has finally brought her to his doorstep. She basically demands the truth from him and he just keeps. Staring owlishly (lmao). He eventually relents and tells her that a conversation is much better held inside, and invites her into his home to talk.

She's sus as hell but enters the house, and he asks if she's had blood. This stops her in her tracks, shook, and her monologue drifts to explain a few things. When she woke up years ago, a new vampire, she had instructions to approach the Rouge/Blanc dispensary for what she needed. The staff there told her that everything was paid for, and she continued to receive support from an unnamed benefactor. She asked them for the identity of this person, but they were beholden to customer confidentiality. As such, she's been searching for information to narrow down her target for years until she finally found him tonight.

Despite the years it doesn't mean she's any more comfortable with her new existence. She notes that she still tends to stick to drinking Blanc--only drinking Rouge (in other words, blood) when she has no other choice. When Comte puts the Rouge on the table, she becomes notably unsettled. She's thirsty, but she won't concede to his request that she drink it; she refuses.

(I feel like he can probably tell because he's her sire/because of his experience with vampires). Comte--naturally--refuses to let her go hungry, so he knocks it back and kisses her to get her to drink it. He lets go as soon as she's swallowed it, and doesn't resist when she shoves him off. She rails at him about how awful he is for doing that, he agrees. She asks if he was the one that killed her parents, he confirms with blasé indifference. She's fuming quietly, but she notes that he doesn't really look happy or triumphant about it. What he's saying isn't reaching his eyes; his gaze is distant and sad. And it's confusing her. Isn't he supposed to be the enemy?

She's lost in her thoughts and unresponsive until there's a loud cry from outside the house, the shriek of a nearby owl. She snaps out of her daze to see that she still has his hand in a vice grip from when she shoved him off, and his skin is blanched--she cut off his circulation from the pressure. She releases him, startled, but he says nothing.

She's trying to sort out what's going on, and doesn't have enough information to really piece anything together. She wants to hate him but things aren't making sense. Why did her parents have to die in the first place? Why does he bother keeping her alive at his own expense? Even just now, what he did felt more like an attempt to get her to eat than anything else. Why isn’t he more malicious? This MC is desperate for answers, and she says as much: "What are you hiding…?"

Comte doesn't answer her, just averts his gaze and remains silent. MC decides she won't do anything until she learns the full extent of what happened the night she was turned. Furthermore, she's well aware of Comte’s status being a problem. If she goes too far without proper motive, the aristocracy could come back to bite her in the ass. (The implication here is that she's more concerned about being wrong and living with that regret, rather than any necessity to protect herself. The state of his gaze--the melancholy there--keeps eating at her. Until she knows why, she won't move forward.)

Comte is shocked that she demands to live alongside him in the mansion, but he doesn't take any issue with it. He says the mansion is pointlessly huge for one person anyway--she's welcome to stay. Either way she wins with this arrangement: either she gets the truth or she finds an effective way to destroy him by the end. And so their little cohabitation begins!

After a timeskip, MC recounts how she's been spending her days in the mansion. She's been tidying around the house, both in the hopes of finding evidence and/or in the hopes of repaying all the years of living on his assistance. He doesn't stop her, letting her do as she pleases and keeping his distance.

One day, she's about to step out into town to grab some groceries. Comte approaches at the front door, cautioning her to be safe--there have been many reports of scuffles/dangerous encounters. MC brushes him off, unsurprised he knows what's going on in town. He's very well connected to the aristocracy, and she notes that he's often at dinner gatherings and parties when he's not home. She insists she can't let her guard down, that he can't be trusted; no matter how kind he is to her face.

Another day, he asks her to attend a ball later in the week. He tells her she's under no obligation to stay with him while they're there, just that he wants her to take some time and relax--to have fun. She tries to insist that going to something like that would be more stressful than fun but he won’t hear of any protest, walking away before she can fully reject the outing. (Comte, an idiot, speed-walking out of the room: and that is what we call finessed). She sighs, thinking she'll be nothing but a burden to him given her lack of knowledge about events like that. She doesn't really know the proper etiquette or how to dance, it’s completely out of her depth.

Surprising no one at all Comte buys MC a dress and accessories to match regardless, and when she comes down the staircase leading to the front door he's awestruck. He tells her she's beautiful and she's miffed by the raw sincerity, trying to remind herself that he is eeeeevil. He knows how to talk to women given his status, he's just smooth talking... (She's trying to convince herself, essentially.)

And so they go, and she's a bit of a wallflower. He leaves her alone--doesn't want to bother her--while she sticks close to one wall. Several men ask her to dance, but she politely declines. Her monologue explains that, given what she is and the fact that she’s only living for revenge, she sees no merit in trying to court human men. She sees it as irresponsible and inevitably disastrous, and…

[Given the nature of what I am I just can't. I can't fall in love with a human man. Besides, the only person I really want to dance with is...as much as I hate it, my line of sight keeps drifting to Comte. Suddenly he looks up and meets my gaze, but I hurriedly look away--my heart pounding in my chest. Why. In a room full to the brim with people, why do my eyes keep looking for him. Whatever, time to go cool off for a bit.]

She leaves the ballroom--mortified at herself--to get some fresh air. Not five minutes into trying to figure out whatever the hell is going on with her shitshow of a life, a man appears asking what she’s doing alone. And da da da d a Zelda treasure chest sound effect he whips out a knife covered in blood and tries to stab MC. Naturally, because I’m an idiot, my first thought was:

TW: knife attack

TW: homicides by serial killer

But it turns out our local serial killer remains nameless in this event, so I can point no fingers. MC is panicking about needing to run and frozen in place from the shock, but Comte appears to pull her out of range--knife sinking into his back. He doesn’t react much to the violence as the attacker runs away, yanking out the knife and focused on checking her for any wounds. She’s still reeling from how quickly he reacted, and he reassures her (probably at the sight of her bewildered/worried look) that law enforcement is on alert in the area. They’ll find him, they’ll arrest him.

She tries to ask him why. Why would he protect her like that? His first instinct was to take the hit and ensure her safety first, and it doesn’t make sense. Comte reassures her again, joking that purebloods are sturdy. See? The wound’s already healed c:

[Even though I've been spending all this time trying to get my revenge on him, my heart stopped when he was attacked. As if to reassure me, frozen and speechless, Comte smiles gently. This person.......I can't do it. I can't kill him without meaning, without being sure of the truth.]

"...Comte, I can tell you're a good person. What happened that night, so many years ago?" Because even now, he's still protecting me. "Please...tell me the truth. I want to know."

[I know this isn't the time or place, but if I don't know I can't worry about him with a clear head.]

TW: human trafficking and drugging unconscious

Comte concedes and goes into what happened that night so many years ago. Apparently he was acquainted with her parents long before the incident, and they fell into debt as a result of gambling. He approached their home in the hopes of paying them a visit, checking up on them, only to encounter tragedy. They intended to sell their daughter off and the man they ended up making a deal with more or less slaughtered them all in cold blood. The reason MC doesn’t remember any of this was because her parents drugged her the night it happened. No consciousness, no resistance.

"In that room suffused in the odor of blood and despair, I found you, MC." Her pained, struggling cry is what led him into that room--and seeing how desperately she was fighting to survive, he turned her against all his better judgement. Feeling certain she would hate him forever for the choice he made compounded by her terrible circumstance, he bailed, leaving her instructions and resources to survive on her own.

"Sold off by your own parents, attacked by a serial killer, seconds from death. I thought....I thought telling you about it would only bring you pain, that it would leave you numb from the shock and despair. That's why I kept it from you.”

"...After turning you, I was consumed by regret. I felt certain you would hate me for the choice I made. So I left." [When I don't know what to say, he keeps talking.] "But I was worried about you even so. I tailed you quietly, making sure you were getting along okay. I was fully aware you wanted to kill me for what I'd done. Even so, I wanted to check on you."

And that is where the line comes in.

"...it amazed me. You never stopped trying, never stopped helping others or gave up on them--even while every day was a living hell for you."

He admits that he fell in love with her after a point. And she’s baffled, considering she’s been looking for every reason to tear him apart--assuming he was the perpetrator when he actually saved her life. She protests immediately, asking how he could possibly feel that way after the level of vitriol and judgement she’s levied against him when he was only trying to help.

"That's not true at all. At heart, you're a very kind young lady. You haven't raised a hand against me all this time. And even when you considered me to be a repulsive presence, you were worried about me."

At this MC is conflicted--because his words are a further extension of his equanimity. He’s well aware that he brought about all the confusion by not being honest, but it’s also clear there was no ill intent involved in that decision. He was concerned; hitting her with that level of misfortune and senseless terror all at once could have been incredibly destructive to her health. (This isn’t to say he made the ‘right’ decision; I don’t think there is any right decision in the face of such a complex situation. Given he takes full responsibility for what happened and does his best to help her, I think that’s a fair response.)

This is essentially where the common rt ends. But because I’m feral for Comte and enjoy talking about him, I’ll finish up the summary and then go on to do my analysis.

After that riveting assault, MC is feeling very lost about how to move forward. Her fury at Comte’s injustice has all but evaporated, which means a complete re-evaluation of how she’s going to move forward from now on. Does she continue with her revenge anyway, still angry for the dishonesty? Or does she try something new?

If you do the premium end that means choosing to forgive Comte and climb him (as he deserves). Therefore I, being an intellectual, chose to ride him into the sunset.

The premium end begins with Comte taking her to another ball because the first one kind of went to shit and he feels bad about it (retraumatization was not in the plan...). And so MC basically does the same thing as the first time, just vibin and taking in the scenery, thinking things over. Comte’s concerned about her not having fun, so he approaches her to ask if she’s feeling okay. He makes it clear that he really doesn’t mind if she dances with someone else--even if he admitted his feelings for her. She doesn’t owe him anything, and he has no intention of imposing on her future.

"Whatever it is you choose to do, I don't mind. I just want you to be happy"

[This person is so, so gentle...His words penetrate deep and settle with warmth over my heart, my chest light.] "Comte I.......I don't want to dance with anyone but you." [I still don't know what to do about the future, but for now I think following what my heart is telling me is the best move]

"!!!....well then, if you insist..."

Comte’s just:

He’s beyond shocked, but accepts her invitation when she confirms it’s what she wants to do. Leading her in all his infinite grace, MC marvels at his ability to dance so elegantly--even with a partner who’s deadweight, like her. She also finds it astounding how easily he makes her forget what they are, how easily she just enjoys the moment; no turmoil, no lingering in the worst of her miseries. She’s just...having fun? For the first time in so very long.

[Comte murmurs in the short distance, clear remorse on his face--as though he can't help it.]

"MC, it's kind of you, honestly. That you'd give me the time of day, that you'd agree to dance with me. But I...I'm the one that turned you. There's no denying or escaping that fact. If it's you, I'm ready to accept any consequence. If you want me gone, you're free to attack me. If you just want to be as far away from me as possible--to live your life in peace and solitude--I will do everything in my power to help you."

[He said it as if he was trying to convince himself. Like he was trying to remember why he couldn't assume more of this single dance together, why he couldn't let hope emerge from this single shared moment.]

[.....I'm not that kind, Comte. I asked because it's you.....Feeling his warmth beneath my hands, I come to a decision.]

There’s a timeskip, and then MC--being the badass that she is--knocks on Comte’s door the night of the crescent moon. He lets her inside more than ready to accept her judgement, whatever it may be. MC asks about his feelings, seeks to confirm that he still loves her before she confesses herself.

"Comte. Comte you said--that you loved me right?"

"Yes that's correct...no matter how much you might hate me, these feelings won't change. I love you."

[Hearing those words again sets my chest on fire. And I decide to tell him my honest feelings.]

"I love you too. But......I've held a misguided grudge against you for so long, is it okay for me to love you now?"

[Can that misunderstanding really be forgiven? Am I allowed to love you? Comte's eyes widen, and the breathtaking gold of his eyes shimmer/waver.]

"...shouldn't that be my line? I mean even despite the circumstances, I still made the choice to turn you :o Can you really forgive me?"

"...If I'm honest, I still have a hard time drinking blood and I'm a little scared of an immortal life. But......I think if I could spend that eternity at your side, I could find the means to smile again. And....the thing is....I also want to see you smile, to make sure you remember how to smile."

".................." [Le Comte stared at me, before extending his hand. And he hugged me so, so tightly.] "MC......."

[In that single word all the raw emotion of ten years can be heard. It was an indescribable sound--one that spoke of an unimaginable, impossible love. This person loves me so very dearly.]

The event ends with them biting each other as proof of their bond, essentially a vow to stay together moving forward. It felt very much like the shared act of biting was a promise of love, how vampires might get married or commit to each other romantically. The summary essentially ends here.

Here’s where the semi-meta comes in, because I literally just can’t stop thinking about the implications of this event.

"...it amazed me. You never stopped trying, never stopped helping others or gave up on them--even while every day was a living hell for you."

I just...I just don’t even know where to begin with how hard this line hits. Comte’s MS conveys this sentiment powerfully too, but there’s just something about them choosing to emphasize it yet again. The reason Comte falls in love every time has to do with his MC’s strength, her ability to surmount remarkable obstacles with so much poise. She’s deeply in tune with her reality, but no less relentlessly positive. She won’t burden others with her problems, and she’ll do everything in her power to move forward in constructive ways.

Even when every day was a living hell. Both Comte and Leonardo perceive eternity to be something of a curse; an endless sentence. Whether it means suffering boredom, reliving tragedy, or going nigh numb from the loneliness--being an immortal creature isn’t always sunshine and rainbows.

And that’s exactly why I think he fell in love with this MC? I don’t think his feelings would have run half as deep if it was just anyone. He doesn’t strike me as the type to get attached easily. Because if he’s going to have a life partner, he needs someone who's going to be able to roll with whatever life throws their way for conceivable lifetimes. Somebody that loses heart quickly or is easily prone to delusion would suffer eternally, and the last thing he wants is to subject a person to that. MC gives him hope certainly, but she’s also emblematic of a kind of fortitude he both needs on a personal level and she would need to be beside him. It’s interesting because it’s a responsible choice on his part, but also just very befitting of his nature. He’s somebody that staunchly believes in the ability of good to prevail, but he’s also realistic about it. He knows doing the right thing isn’t necessarily easy; he does it because he could never live with himself if he did otherwise.

(Think about Comte’s approach with Jeanne. It meant years of being on the receiving end of hatred he didn’t deserve, but he didn’t mind if it meant Jeanne could find a way to heal. It’s not the most practical or immediate solution, but it is the most restorative option. Comte doesn’t care that he spends years living alongside Jeanne’s outspoken displeasure and even violent outbursts. Why? Because it’s all a means to a greater, better end. If he has to suffer a little discomfort, he’s willing to make that sacrifice. That’s the thing with Comte; intentionality is everything. Comte’s intention is to help. Whether that’s a short or long process, a smooth or rough process, he’s going to do what he can within his means.)

That dynamic is reflected in his respect for this MC who is filled with fury on behalf of all the life that she lost unfairly, her relentless pursuit for the truth of what happened to her. Notice, she’s more interested in truth than retaliation. She refuses to lay an intentionally violent hand on Comte until she knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was worthy of being on the receiving end of that retribution. Who does that sound like? If you guessed Comte himself, then you see where I’m going with this. What MC and Comte have in common is that they have a sharp emotional fortitude that they keep under tight, rational control. They will react with sizable passion or hurt or warmth--but their externalized reaction will vary depending on the situation. If it’s a minor annoyance, they have the patience to diffuse and try to alleviate the problem. If it’s on a larger scale or it’s an egregious violation of their personhood, then they up the ante accordingly.

Think about it. MC appears on Comte’s doorstep full of righteous rage and even when he confirms what he’s “done,” she hesitates. Her emotional intelligence is telling her something isn’t aligning properly; something isn’t quite right. She forgoes immediate revenge for proper answers instead. MC and Comte have this kind of balance, where they are more than happy to hear people out--but there is a limit to that propensity. Push them too far? They’ll bust your head. I guess I’m particularly interested in the way Comte seems to yearn for that kind of identification with a partner. Somebody who has similar values: not merciless, but also won’t bend when a situation requires confrontation.

All that being said, there was one more aspect of the story that I was endlessly interested in. I’m going to link the post here, in that it’s tangentially related to this meta; it really made me better able to articulate what I mean to say.

“Never let generosity hold hostages; courtesy is an essential tool, but a cruel master.”

I’m gonna let that sink in for a moment.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot, because it’s very rare that I read something once and I’m forced to read it several more times before I begin to understand it. My interpretation of that line is to say that benevolence can showcase your good will to others; it can be a reliable proof of good character, and a way to help someone. But the problem comes when people do conventionally/perceived generous things with the explicit intent of repayment by some measure. While it is only responsible to care for others as they care for you, you shouldn’t make impossible sacrifices with the expectation that the other person is indebted to you--especially if the other party had no ability to consent to that sacrifice.

How does this apply to Comte in this event story? Er, in almost every way humanly (vampirely?) possible, in my view. Comte turns MC into a vampire after seeing her plight, largely because he gets the impression that she was fighting for her life--had impossibly survived against all odds. The situation is complicated though. MC wasn’t fully conscious when it happened, so she doesn’t have a proper understanding of how everything went down. So what does Comte do? If he can’t bear to face her or reveal the truth of how horribly she died, he at least gives her every means to survive and makes sure she’s doing okay since she’s technically an orphan now. He doesn’t interfere with her life, or demand recognition for the life he gave her. He fully understands that she wasn’t able to properly consent to his decision in that split second moment, and even if she had he doesn’t see it as a debt she owes him now. He was able to help save her life for at least a little while longer, and so he did. It was as simple as that. He had the ability, she had the need. That’s the end.

But Comte’s emotional acuity doesn’t just end here. Even when she comes after him to kill him, he doesn’t respond with anger because he knows full well he hasn’t explained. Sure he’s sacrificing their relationship (the ability to get along on half-decent terms) but if it means she can find a reason to live, then so be it. He doesn’t lord that sacrifice over her head by any extension; he’s just sad about it because he thinks she’s a wonderful person, and he doesn’t want to be estranged from her. But in his view, her needs supercede his wants.

He doesn’t force her to do chores around the house during her stay, she does it to keep herself busy and search for the truth about his intentions. He even asks her to take breaks and look after herself first, more concerned with her well-being than the state of the mansion. At the ball, he doesn’t force her to linger around him or dance with him despite inviting her there and giving her the dress/jewelry to attend. He leaves her alone as she wishes, only glancing at her to make sure she’s doing okay. When he takes the hit from the violent stranger--a knife straight to the back--he jokes about being s t r o n k, never once blaming her for the wound he sustains no matter how brief.

He explains that he didn’t tell her the truth because it was incredibly traumatic, and it’s only in the safety of the moment--after years of having conceived of her own selfhood beyond the event--that she’s able to take the weight of what happened without falling apart. The premium end just keeps hammering this shit home. He openly tells her she doesn’t have to dance with him at all, that she doesn’t owe him anything just because he likes her. He’s aware it’s unrequited (he thinks) and he doesn’t go on and on about all the sacrifices he made for her with the expectation she’ll reciprocate. He just did what he wanted to do, nothing more. If she feels the same way by some miracle, that’s amazing! If she doesn’t, as it would be valid if not, that’s fair too; no hard feelings.

She has to be the one to invite him to dance and insist. She’s the one that smiles fondly when he’s telling her that she can choose whatever outcome she pleases, even if it means wanting to live as far as possible from him. There is no guilt trip, no expectation, and no pressure. She has the freedom to leave or stay. It is entirely dependent on her own will. For the first time in a lifetime of loss, her agency is restored to her. That’s huge.

She even admits that she feels bad about being so angry when he really was just trying to help, now that she can understand what he’s doing. And he’s openly shocked to hear it. He had no intention of expecting or asking for an apology. He understands it was his own imposition, both biting her and obscuring the truth, that led to her setting her mind on vengeance.

I’ve probably hit it home harder than necessary, but Comte just feels like the epitome of good will in the best way possible. One can argue he’s a little selfish for keeping the truth from her for so long, but honestly? Given the horrific trauma of her situation--and his personal fear of making her miserable for an eternity when all he wanted was to give her a second chance away from all that hurt--I feel like his reaction was closer to considerate and reasonable. Comte doesn’t sacrifice anything he isn’t unwilling to give, or anything that would cripple him to give. Furthermore, he doesn’t make love out to be a kind of 1:1. He recognizes that while he might know her well, she doesn’t know squat about him. And, as such, he doesn’t expect her to trust his intentions or reciprocate his feelings in any capacity. It’s just a delightful surprise when she does. When he tells her that he loves her that first time, it’s an explanation. Not a guilt trip. He knows she won’t be satisfied years of protecting her simply because “he wanted to” and he promised her the truth, so he tells her. Not only that, in the aftermath he repeatedly reminds her she isn’t bound to him. She commits to him before he relies on any kind of active bond between both of them.

I don’t know, maybe I think too hard about it, but I feel like the older I get the more I see a shortage of this kind of fine-tuned caring about the other person in a relationship. I guess I just enjoy seeing a man give a woman her health and agency without treating her wellness/happiness like it’s a burden to his life? First and foremost Comte really is concerned with her self-actualization before his feelings can have any place in their relationship. And even when he does confess his love, it isn’t a way to force her to feel indebted to him; it’s an attempt to erase any false pretenses. MC loves him, not because she has nowhere else to go, but because he’s proven himself time and again a worthy companion. Always putting her first, always worried about her feelings, paying such close attention that he sees her to the core of who she is despite her iron front--kind, beneath all that hurt. They spend so much of this event really listening to each other despite such difficult circumstances, and it leads to a deep and abiding love against all odds. And I find that incredibly moving...

Oh and, before I forget? Let me circle back for a moment:

"...it amazed me. You never stopped trying, never stopped helping others or gave up on them--even while every day was a living hell for you."

The best part about this event is that--while Comte says this about MC--this is also precisely the reason MC falls in love with Comte too, even if it’s never stated outright. Because despite how lonely and tired he may be of eternity, no matter how many troubles he’s facing himself, he never stops trying to help and support others (namely MC) in any way he can.

Drops mic

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp comte #ikevamp saint germain #ikevamp jpn spoilers #ikevamp meta #ikevamp au event #comte propaganda #fangdad propaganda #i love him so very dearly #this event just made the feelings come rushing back #can't have five minutes without comte giving me heart palpitations huh #i feel so personally attacked #anywho i hope yall enjoy this wild ride as much as i did #minnie finna peace out and sleep for 70 hrs #**dives into bed beside comte**#rambles #not incorrect quotes

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blue-fidelity · 4 years

Text

~ “Smile In The Face of Tragedy”

Chapter One: Beer Run

Pairings: Billy Hargrove x Henderson!reader, Steve Harrington x best friend! reader

Chapter Summary:

(Y/N) reminisces the events of the summer before senior year. It’s her last year of High School, and she wants to start fresh, the pretty newcomer with shiny blue eyes is willing to help with that.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, abuse (could be trigger warning, reader has a hard past)

The year of 1984 had come into full swing, and (Y/N) had tried to make the rest of her junior year somewhat enjoyable. After the incident with the demogorgon around Christmas, she wanted to focus on the lighter side of life. Which was mainly dicking around with her best friend, and crush, Steve Harrington. Things were going great, till the summer.

‘Summer of ‘84. She dubbed it, “The Summer of Steve & Nancy”. Months usually consisted of Steve and Nancy trying to fix the shattered fragment of what their relationship was, whilst (Y/N) and Jonathan watched on the sidelines. Steve would come to (Y/N)’s house at ungodly hours of the night, usually sneaking through her window.

She’s just been so distant, I don’t know what I’m doing wrong- he’d whimper, laying his head on her lap. She tried to contain her tears, for him. If only she could tell Steve that there was someone better for him, someone that could make him happy. There was one problem with that, though. Steve loved Nancy. It’s not like (Y/N) could change that, and it killed her. Seeing her best friend in this state though, it was another level. She wanted to scream at Nancy, scream at her for stringing Steve on a loose thread that she could’ve easily cut. Instead Nancy hid her feelings for Jonathan and carried on this dance with Steve.

It just wasn’t fair, though, nothing really seemed fair at this point. Everything would eventually come crashing down and it’d leave a trail of broken hearts in the process, but atlast, (Y/N) would keep her head up high. She’d try her best not to fall into the deep end of emotions she wasn’t able to handle. If anything turned down hill, she knew she’d have one thing. Her brother, Dustin.

Dustin was the ray of happiness that (Y/N) projected off of, to his charismatic personality and bright smile, she was like him in many ways. Moments spent with her brother we’re always great, they had a surprisingly better relationship then most siblings did. It was probably because (Y/N) was secretly a nerd, and even though she wouldn’t admit it, she probably liked D&D even more than her brother did. That’s why she absolutely loved joining Dustin and his friends on their sessions.

This made the party worship her in a way, and she couldn’t help but find it adorable. It’s not everyday you get a bunch of middle schoolers fawn after you. So despite the never ending months of trying to mend Steve’s broken heart, the summer wasn’t a total bust. In fact, she loved the days she spent with those boys (even though it was a little hard to carpool when she drove a Harley Davidson, Mike was always willing to lend his family’s station wagon).

Now, she was nearly two months into her senior year, and she decided to make it count. After all, it was her last year of high school before college. It was the day before Halloween, and she couldn’t be more excited. Dustin and the rest of the party were pretty hyped about spending their first night trick or treating unchaperoned, if (Y/N) remembered correctly he stated, “(Y/N)! We are 13, practically men! As men we fetch our own candy”. To this she giggled, ruffling her brother’s curls, “Well young man, you must save your sister some Kit-Kats”.

(Y/N) knew Tina, the only popular girl that really tolerated her was going to throw a party at her place. She had called her last night all excited about her, “Halloween Bash”, and how she wanted (Y/N) to help plan it. “The guys at the liquor store won’t say no to a hot chic on a motorcycle!”, of course Tina wanted her to get the beer. (Y/N) didn’t even drink that much! Only on occasions, but Tina was her friend. So after school today, she was going to head to ‘Hawkins local liquor store, and PRAY TO GOD she could hide the kegs from her mother. It was moments like these she wished she had a car to stash things in.

She pulled up into Hawkins High’s parking lot, “Toys in The Attic” by Aerosmith playing loudly on her stereo. Spending a whole summer with middle schooler’s kind of made her forget about her social status. If it made sense, (Y/N) wasn’t in the “popular clique”, being Steve’s best friend just gave her a title. Those who didn’t like her called her, “Steve’s Wannabe Queen”, which was partially true, whilst others who liked her didn’t name her anything. She was just, “(Y/N) Henderson”. A face that simply stood out in the crowd because of sheer confidence, kindness, and a vibe that screamed cool. Guys wanted to fuck her, girls wanted to be her. It was a classic High School cliché.

Tina waved at her as she parked her ‘Harley beside her car. She was with Carol and another girl who she couldn’t name. “Hey (Y/N/N), I was just telling the ladies you’ll be supplying the beer for tomorrow?”, she said, to which (Y/N) rolled her eyes. “Only because you know the creeps down there won’t turn me down, come on Tina I feel used”, she fake pouted. The girls all laughed, continuing to talk about the party.

As the girls continued their conversation, (Y/N)’s Aerosmith seemed to be drowned out by the familiar sound of The Scorpions, “Rock You Like A Hurricane”. A fellow metal head such as herself in Hawkins Indiana? ‘This couldn’t be possible. About everyone in this town had shitty taste in music, besides her and Jonathan. She turned down her stereo and directed her view to the sound, eyes being met with an ocean blue Camaro, with a California license plate. How fitting. Whoever the driver was, had sped into the parking spot beside hers.

The group of girls behind her stared eagerly to see who this suspicious newcomer was, and if (Y/N) was being honest, she was kind of curious as well. The driver door swung open, and the driver’s combat boots grounded him to the concrete. That’s when she saw him, and he saw her, too.

Something radiated off him, almost a confidence higher than hers. It was cockiness, and at first glance, she could see right through him. Denim jacket, cuffed jeans, and a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. That was her first impression, and damn was he definitely good looking. For a moment, Steve had been wiped from her brain. Replaced with blonde curls and pretty blue eyes that bore into hers. “Whatcha looking at, princess?”, he smirked- eyeing her up and down like an animal staring down its prey. (Y/N) tried to contain herself, she wasn’t about to be wooed by the new playboy.

“I’m simply looking at your car, 1979 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28, right?”, her car knowledge would get her out of this one. “Right you are sweetheart, pleasure to see one of the girls in this town has common sense”, he grinned, showing his pearly whites. “Well if you're ‘lookin for that trait in the rest of the girls here, I think you’d sadly be disappointed”, she smiled, gesturing to her “friends”. Tina and the other’s let out gasps. The newcomer shook his head, plucking his cigarette from his lips. “Well I guess I’ll see you and your senseless friends around then, huh?”, “I guess so”. He strutted to the school.

“You whore! Way to throw us under the bus like that”, Tina scowled, slapping (Y/N) on the shoulder. She only laughed, “Well, couldn’t lie to the guy now could I?”. Well wasn’t (Y/N) feeling pretty proud about herself right now? She could really be a sarcastic fuck sometimes, huh?

In a way, (Y/N) loved school. Her place made her feel validated, and she got pretty good grades. What was there not to love? As she was at her locker, her peachy attitude soon turned to discomfort. The happy squeals of Nancy could be heard from a few lockers away as Steve spun her around. She smiled at the couple, yet it still made her heart ache. (Y/N) couldn’t help but notice Jonathan awkwardly walking away from them, passing by her. Steve looked at his girlfriend with sparkles in his eyes. He genuinely seemed joyful, and in a way she was happy for him. Still, that aching feeling was there, and at this point it seemed nothing could replace it.

Later that day, during art class (which was last period), she found out the new guy's name was Billy Hargrove. Fresh out from sunny California a week ago. She questioned why someone like him would choose art out of all things for his creative credit, but, maybe he’d surprise her. The class was filled with a very “out of the box”, group of people. They might’ve been (Y/N)’s favorite out of the student body. The art room was a space for open opinions, and creativity. Everyone was interesting in their own individual way, but somehow, Billy managed to stand out.

When he entered the class, everyone was already working on their current pieces. Mr. Axworthy, who insisted everyone called him “Mr. Ax”, had assigned a new project about a week ago. Every year he gave students an assignment to represent themselves, this year it was painting your favorite album cover. Though (Y/N) had many favorites, she chose The Clash’s “London Calling”, and was currently working on the shading. She was calmly sitting at her easel when she heard the teacher speak, “Mr. Hargrove! Pleasure to have you in our art class, there’s a free spot beside Mrs. Henderson, she’ll explain the current project to you!”. (Y/N) gave “Mr. Hargrove” a slight smile as he walked towards her.

“So, Henderson, huh? Got a first name?”, he questioned, showing that cocky smirk. “It’s, (Y/N), yours?”, “Billy. Billy Hargrove”. Now she knew his name- and it somehow added to his intoxicating aura. Call it fascination- but, Billy’s presence overwhelmed her in a way, and she didn’t even know him that well! It’s not like her feelings for Steve disappeared, just anytime those shimmering blue eyes glanced her way, her heart raced. Maybe Billy was the void waiting to fill that aching feeling, and she just hadn’t realized it yet. Everyone was telling her to move on, that it wasn’t worth it, but- to her, Steve was worth it. The one thing that wasn’t worth it though, was chasing a dream that wasn’t going to come true.

As (Y/N) was explaining the project to Billy, she was surprised by how attentive he was. If he could get excited about one thing, it was music. “So how are your art skills?”, she asked, “A little rusty, but nothing you can’t show me”, he grinned, taking one of his paint brushes and dipping it into some red paint. (Y/N) thought he’d go for the canvas, but he surprisingly smeared the paint onto her cheeks. She stared at him in shock- “Wha-what the hell did you do that for?!”, she exclaimed. “Just thought I could add to the flush on your cheeks!”, he laughed, of course he’d notice her blushing. Two could play at this game. “Well, you know what I think your face could use?”, “Oh yeah? What’s that?”, “Some green!”, she shouted, painting a big green line on his face. Before their paint war could continue, Mr. Axworthy had noticed.

“I hate to interrupt, but shouldn’t the paint go on your canvas?”, he motioned to our easels. “Well of course Mr. Ax, but when it comes to the concept of art, isn’t everything a canvas?” she giggled, leaving Mr. Axworthy speechless. “Well, yes- but I’d prefer you’d not interrupt the class and actually help Billy start his project”, he states. “Definitely, he had just finished telling me he wanted to do Metallica’s ‘Kill ‘em All, isn’t that correct, Mr. Hargrove?”, “Yes that is correct!”. “Well then, carry on, you can wash the paint off your faces at the end of class”.

By the time class finished, Billy had at least finished the base coat of his painting whilst (Y/N) had time to finish her shading. Now, they needed to step into the halls with paint all over their faces-how embarrassing. It was as if Mr. Axworthy wanted them to be publicly humiliated! In a way, (Y/N) didn’t blame him, it was a good form of punishment. When the pair walked the halls, they received awkward glances. Billy simply rolled his eyes, who were they to judge him? He wrapped an arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders, giving her a reassuring smile, “Let them stare, I know you got rep around this joint, they have no reason to give you dirty looks, aight?”. It was nice to have reassurance from Billy, but from getting to know him, he generally had that ‘don’t give a fuck attitude’. She wasn’t worried about the paint. She was worried what people would think if they saw her, the girl who had been pining for Steve forever, under another guy's arms. The new hotshot nonetheless.

Luckily Billy was called over by Tommy, of course he had already been recruited by that group. Despite her very much fun art class with him, she was feeling uneasy with all the looks she was getting from people, and to make matters worse, Steve was standing at her locker. He waved her over with a smile, to which she headed over to him.

“Hey Stevie”, she beamed at him. Damn she still couldn’t resist that adorable face. “Hiya (Y/N/N), saw you walking with ‘Hargrove”, he smirked. “Oh yeah, that- we just have art together, nothing big”, she blushed, I guess Billy really was getting to her. “That explains the paint on your cheeks?”, he pointed at the red coated on her face. “Just a small mishap I guess”, she chuckled. “So what brings Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington to my locker?” she inquired. “Just wanted to see my bestie, it’s been a while”, he smiled softly, poking her side. It really had been a while, (Y/N) really couldn’t remember the last time Steve looked at her happily. It gave her a sense of comfort to see him so cheerful. “It really has- I’d hate to cut this short, but I really have to get some errands done, but I’ll see you at the party tomorrow?”, “Definitely! I’ll see you then”, he bid her goodbye, kissing her on the cheek. Her hands grazed her cheek, touching where he just kissed. “Oh and Henderson! Let’s hangout sometime, yeah?”, he shouted to her, “That’d be great!”.

Before heading to the parking lot, she stopped at the bathroom to wash the paint off. She checked to see if anyone was there, luckily there wasn’t. The girl really didn’t need anymore dirty looks. She grabbed some paper towels, running them under warm water. While she whipped the paper towel over her face, she took the time to look at herself. What was she doing? Was she really going to let Steve slip away that easily? Billy had just entered her life, and had obviously taken an interest in her. What was the risk of jumping into things too quickly? She couldn’t wait forever. That’s when she decided. (Y/N) was going to allow herself to get lost in the new overwhelming feeling of Billy Hargrove.

(Y/N) drove down the quiet back roads of Hawkins, making her way to the liquor store. If the town wasn’t sketchy enough, having the liquor store away from civilization made it even sketchier. She really didn’t like coming here, the last time (Y/N) came here was for another one of Tina’s parties. It was for the end of the summer, at Lover’s Lake. It was quite the blowout, till Hopper came to shut it down. Fortunately she didn’t get caught that night, her mother would’ve killed her, and she wasn’t about to spend the night in jail.

Now, (Y/N) wanted to give the cashier an offer he couldn’t refuse. The process was simple, bat her eyelashes, show plenty of cleavage, talk innocently, and then figure out how to put two fucking kegs in the side car of her motorcycle! She glanced down at the outfit she was wearing, a simple low-cut red t-shirt with some high rise acid wash jeans, and a leather jacket. The leather jacket could go. She strutted to the counter of the store, knowing they held the kegs in the back storage, it was time to turn on the charm. Borris, the regular cashier, was in his late 60’s, and she absolutely hated the way he looked at her. It made her feel grose, but she wasn’t about to let Tina down.

Boris contentedly stared her down, obviously checking her out. On the inside, she shivered, but she kept on a smile. “Anything I can do for you pretty lady?”, he asked, grinning. “Yes, I was wondering if you can hook me up with a few kegs? ‘You see I got this party tomorrow, up in Indianapolis! It’s a big college thing, ‘can’t have a good time without alcohol”, that oughta convince him. “Sure thing sweets, I’ll grab some for you, how many shall it be?”. He didn’t even ask her for her ID! “Two will be just fine! Thank you so much!”. He brought them up to the counter, shit those look heavy, she thought. “How much does it come to?”, (Y/N) asked. “Oh, on the house, anything for a pretty girl looking to have a good time”, score! He almost offered to help bring them out- till a familiar voice cut in.

“It’s no problem Boris, I’ll help her out, just grab me a pack of cigs mhm?”, Billy Hargrove, of course. “Your usual William?”, questioned Boris. “That’ll be just fine”. (Y/N) was stunned. Did it just happen to be a coincidence that he walked through the door? More like a sign. He took hold of one of the kegs, while she grabbed the other. They both headed outside.

“Stalking me, Hargrove?”, she smirked. “Absolutely not! I just happened to need more cigarettes, and I noticed a familiar Harley Davidson, don’t flatter yourself”, he placed the keg down, lighting a cigarette. “Sure...and you deliberately wanted to help me with the kegs?”, “The guys a creep! I’m sure you didn’t want to be around him any longer”, he huffed, blowing smoke from his lips. “Aww, you protecting me Hargrove? That’s cute!”, she giggled.

Even though Billy hated to admit it, he loved when she laughed. She ignited this glow that was hard to describe- though, it made him feel warm. It made him feel good. When he arrived here, his goal was to sleep with nearly every girl who made eyes at him, he’d make a list, and then he’d check it off one by one. That all changed when he saw her. She was different, she had this spark that came with her quick wit that left him wanting more. Was he going to tell her that? No, not yet, but it seems his “friendship” with her was growing quicker than he expected.

“I’m not protecting you..just-shut up”, why was he getting so flustered? This was so unlike him. “Whatever Hargrove, just help me load these into my sidecar will yah?”, she struggled to hold the keg. “Sweetheart, are you sure those will fit in there?’, he questions, looking at her struggling. “You got any better ideas?”, she groaned impatiently. In fact- Hargrove did have an idea, whether she’d agree, he really didn’t know.

“Here me out- you and I both know those aren’t going to hold in there, and I know why you need them, so why don’t I stash them in the Camaro, and you and I can go to the party together?”, he offered, waiting eagerly for her response. She hesitantly looked down at the kegs, and then back up at him. “Billy- are you sure? I don’t want you going through all that trouble, what if your parent’s found them?”, she questioned worriedly, biting her lip. “My parents won’t notice a damn thing, if they even touch my car- it’s their dead body on my hands”, he laughed, though she could see his shoulders tense up, the question had obviously bothered him. “Well alright then...let’s load them into your trunk”.

Once the kegs were in, Billy closed his car trunk tightly. Smiling at (Y/N) he took another puff of his cigarette, leaning against the back of his car. “So what are you going as?”, he wondered, staring at her. (Y/N) had spaced out, not really getting what he meant. “What do you mean?”, she asked. “For the Halloween party, what’s your costume?”, “Oh! I'm going as Sarah Connor from the new Terminator movie?”, she explained, wondering if he’d heard of it. “Nice, I was told that movie was supposed to be good”. Why did this conversation feel so awkward? “It really was, I went to go see it with my little brother”, she grinned.

“You got a little sibling- me too, well step sister, but that doesn’t matter”, he muttered the last bit, inhaling more of his cigarette. “Do you two get along?”, she questioned, “No-not really-just, can we change the subject?!”, he raised his voice slightly, startling her a bit. He really didn’t want to talk about his family. ‘I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to pry- I should go-”, she whispered, heading back to her motorcycle. (Y/N) turned on her heel, flinching when she felt Billy take a slight hold on her wrist. “Wait- I didn’t mean- I didn’t mean to startle you”, his words were shaky, as he kept his grip on her wrist. She slipped his hand off her wrist, staring at him blankly. (Y/N) wasn’t exactly sure what she was supposed to say at this moment. “It’s just- when I moved here, I wanted to start fresh and the idea of my family just-it makes it hard”, he says sharply. “I just don’t like talking about it”.

(Y/N) nodded her head slightly, she didn’t really know what Billy went through when he moved to Hawkins, and whatever it was, seemed to trigger him. In a way, (Y/N) knew what it felt like. She and her family moved to Indiana in 1979, when she just started middle school. It was hard to adjust, and Hawkins was a lot different from her last home. They left because her father had walked out on them. Though it was traumatic, it wasn’t like he was a very good dad. He’d come home late from work, usually drunk and angry. (Y/N) still had scars from when he beat her. It made her insides twitch, shivering at the thought of the still present stitches on her back. The night she got them, her father had been particularly cheesed off, luckily her mom and Dustin weren’t home. Her mother was having a well deserved ‘ladies night’ while her brother was at a sleepover.

The night started off calmly, (Y/N) had been contently listening to records in her room while her father was watching football down the hall. She knew he had been drinking, she never saw him without alcohol in his hands. That’s why she didn’t drink that much, she’d hate to turn out like him. Her door was locked, to make sure he wouldn’t come in. She cringed when she heard glass shatter in the other room, footsteps slowly approaching her door. She hopped out of her bed, muttering ‘fuck-fuck-fuck’, under her breath. At this point she had gotten scared. Her dad knocked harshly on her door, “(Y/N), you better fucking open this door, or I’ll knock it down myself”- he yelled, voice booming. That’s when she realized. I’ll go out the window. (Y/N) quietly opened the window latch, slipping through the frame. Luckily her house was only one story, so there was no risk of falling.

She thought she had been safe, till her father noticed she escaped from the window. (Y/N) barely had a chance to leave the driveway till her father spotted her, tackling her to the ground. Her chest hit the cold pavement, groaning in pain as her father pinned her wrists to the asphalt. Not getting a chance to notice the kitchen knife in his left hand, he unexpectedly slashed the blade against her back. She wailed as the knife dented her skin, begging for her dad to stop as tears filled her eyes. By chance her mother had entered the driveway before her father could do anymore damage. (Y/N) never understood why her mom didn’t call 9-1-1, just simply drove her to the hospital to get stitches. It was probably out of fear, and it was only a few nights after the incident that he disappeared. When Dustin found out what happened, even with only being eight years old at the time, she swore he was ready to kill him.

When she stared back at him, she had a sympathetic look in her eyes. “It’s okay B, just- if you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m here”. He smiled slightly at the small nickname, looking at her softly, “Thanks, no one’s really offered that before”. He scratched his neck nervously, lighting out his cigarette. “Hug it out?”, she extended her arms out cheekily. Hug it out? Billy Hargrove didn’t hug it out- but she seemed so sincere- he pulled her into his arms, kissing her forehead. He couldn’t resist smelling her hair, it smelled almost tropical- like the salty scent of the ocean breeze that reminded him of home. For the first time, Billy felt at peace in this new town. He knew that if she stocked around, he could bring himself to be happy, and as luck would have it, she was planning to.

Next Chapter: smile-in-the-face-of-tragedy

Authors Note: The time has come and the first chapter is here! I hope you guys enjoyed, feedback is greatly appreciated 😊! If anyone else wants to be in the tag-list, feel free to comment below!

Tag-list: @holychocopie

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