A/N: This is my first story in like 8392 years and I’m so put of practice so please bare with me because it’s not great. Also shoutout to Emily. You’re the real mvp. Feedback would be great.
Word count: 4,185
We were sitting in the jeep on the highway from Toronto back to Pickering and though we weren’t even half way yet, the drive seemed longer than usual. Painfully longer.
Though it was a rather warm summer day, I felt the chills run down my bare arms the soon as we got into the car. The pesky silence between us was smothering, suffocating really and made my entire body linger in the most uncomfortable way possible.
Annon: Hi I don’t know if you can do a bill Skarsgard imagine like bill
brothers come to visit you two and you an bill have a little fun at
night😉😉and in the morning his brothers tease you both about how loud
you are and bill was defending you and yeah ejeje thank you!! “Smut”
@harleysgothamonline Hello, desperate fangirl here! Could you possibly do an imagine where
the reader and Bill get into a huge argument just having a screaming
match and they are both screaming and crying and she’s hitting his chest
out of anger, and then they both make up by kissing passionately and
cuddling. It’s okay if you want to pass on that idea, I promise I won’t
be butt hurt lol.
Warnings: Language, smut.
A/N: I hope you don’t mind that I mixed two request, I’ve changed the roles just a little. This is my firs time writting smut and I really sucks… sorry about that, I‘ve tried my best, sorry for my horrible english.
Pairing: Bill Skarsgard x Reader
Title: “You moan like a princess”
“Stop yelling, Y/N, my siblings are in the
next room” Bill whispered trying to stay calm despite his girlfriend still
yelling at him without reason
“I DON’T CARE THEY’RE IN HERE BILL” She
yelled furiously, feeling her heart beating faster against her chest
“Why are you so angry, Y/N? WHAT DID I DO
NOW?” he asked without understanding, twining his fingers in his hair, starting
to feel desperate.
“I SAW YOUR CELLPHONE” She confessed with
tears in her eyes “I SAW YOUR MESSAGES WITH THAT SLUT, BILL!” She felt the bitter tears begin to slide down
her red cheeks. Bill looked at her, he was furious, his girlfriend had been
snooping on his cellphone without permission
“WHY DID YOU CHECK MY PHONE, Y/N?” He asked
angrily, starting to yell too
“OH MY GOD! I JUST FOUND YOUR MESSAGES WITH
ANOTHER WOMAN AND YOU… Oh God , I CAN’T
BELIEVE IT, BILL!” She tried to look at him, but tears clouded her vision and
she felt how her heart break into a thousand pieces. Bill stayed quiet, looking
at who he believed was the love of his life, crying furiously in front of him
and he felt like the worst human being.
“I’m sorry” He whispered with a broken
voice, approaching her, trying to hold her, but she walks away
“YES, YOU SHOULD SORRY” She kept yelling,
not with anger but sadness
“Y/N, it’s not what you think, nothing ever
happened with her” He tried to hug her desperately and she hits him on the
“I’m not stupid, Bill” She hits him again trying
to get away from him, but he was holding her tight
“I know you’re not, Y/N, please” He begged with tears in his eyes “I love you”
“No, you don’t” She sobbed as he embraced
“Hey…” He whispered and takes her chin with
his fingertips “Look at me, my love” Y/N turned to see him, Oh God! She loved his
green eyes “You have to believe me, I
would never do anything to hurt you” He said more relaxed
“But I saw the messages, Bill, you can’t
He sighed heavily.
The truth was that in the last few months,
Bill had been planning his marriage proposal to Y/N, and his best friend had
agreed to help him with it, the messages really could be misunderstood because
they just talked about meeting in certain places to talk about it
“She was helping me to plan my marriage
proposal” he confesses in distress “Now it’s all ruined, but I don’t care
because I don’t want to lose you Y/N” he walked to the dressing table and take
the fake flowers from the clay vase, he reached into the vase and pulled out a
small black box.
He went back to Y/N and showed it to her
“It’s not as I had planned it, actually Gustaf and Alex were here to help me
with it but… damn it! You’d to be a psycho girlfriend, dear!” Y/N looked at him
in puzzlement, with one hand covering her mouth, feeling the stupidest woman on
the planet, she was trembling and couldn’t control it, Bill rested his forehead
on hers; she could feel his warm breath and breathe his favorite cologne that
she loved it so much, chamomile and mint, she looked into his eyes “be my wife”
he whispered opening the little box
“Oh my god”
“is it a yes?”
“Yes” She whispered almost inaudibly.
Bill took the ring and put it on her
finger. He kissed her, holding her tightly by the waist, but it wasn’t a
romantic kiss, it was one full of desire. It wouldn’t be the first time they
ended up having sex after an argument.
He was much taller than her, but Y/N
manages to take a small leap by wrapping her legs around his waist; Bill walked
with her and they lie down on the bed while still kissing
“Do you want to go out to dinner? Or do you
prefer to stay and kiss to see how this continues?” He said between kissed. Y/N
looked at him and responded with another kiss even more passionate than the
Her hands had begun to play with the
buttons of his shirt, unbuttoning them one by one until completely removed. She
loved to see him like that, she adored his milky skin and his Adam’s apple
moving every time is swallowed, she loved his dilated pupils giving a
special touch to the green of his eyes, and his velvet lips, Dear God.
Bill had taken her dress off along with her
dark bra, his kisses had begun to run down her neck and shoulder making her
gasp slightly, his velvet lips begging to fiddle with her left nipple making
her squirm under him and panting wildly, his right hand low up brushing the
thin fabric of her underwear, feeling as she began to get wet just for him, her
Y/N tried to control her hips, but she was
desperate to feel some friction, so she took his hand and guide him inside her
panties, he began to touch her gently
rubbing her clit, she struggled not to moan to loudly,
after all Bill’s brothers were in the next room. He slides his fingers inside her
and she twisted her neck letting exposed to him, he couldn’t miss the
opportunity to kiss it and suck it slightly causing it to form a small hickey
that would disappear soon.
He stopped touching her “What happened?” She
asked confused “Why did you stop?”
“It seems you aren’t enjoying what I’m
doing” He replied, whispering in her ear. His warm breath crashing against her
skin, excited her even more.
“Your brothers are in the other room, Bill”
“I thought you didn’t mind, sweetheart” He
tested her, lifted one eyebrow playfully as he licked her earlobe, making her
“Bill, please” she whispered
want you to scream my name” He slip another finger inside her and felt her
scratching his arm.
“Bill” she whispered breathlessly as he
began to move his fingers inside her, she moved her hips and moan against his
neck “more…” She begged him
“I can’t hear you, sweetie”
“Fuck me, Bill” She begged, biting his jaw
gently and arranging to unbuckle his belt and remove his trousers, touching his
prominent bulge, he groaned at her touch and without thinking twice she moved
her hand inside his boxers taking his erection.
“Shee-it, Y/N” He settled between her legs
and gently slide inside her as he kissed her hardly, he lets out a small groan
as she scratched his back in response, he started thrusting faster and harder
In a quick movement, Y/N was on top of him,
riding his cock and scratching his chest with every movement she made, Bill
held her by the waist to gain the most stimulation with each stroke. He loved
her, he loved her waist, her messy hair and her breasts moving to the beat of
She began to feel how the heat grew inside
her and her calves began to tingle, as it happened every time she was about to
reach an orgasm, she also felt how Bill’s muscles began to tense beneath her…
“Y/N” He groaned as he clutched her breasts and took her neck to draw her
closer to him and kiss her with passion finally thrusting their both into a
Y/N and Bill were in the kitchen making
breakfast, they heard footsteps and laughter in the hall, Gustaf and Alex
appeared and sat on the kitchen counter in front of both
“Good morning guys” Y/N greeted them while
turning a pancake with the spatula
“Good morning, Y/N” replied Gustaf “How
about last night guys?” he asked as he serve a cup of coffee, Y/N and Bill cross
glances and laugh “I mean… we heard you arguing”
“And other stuff” Alex joked
felt her cheeks begin to turn pink and laughed nervously, she knew these two
too well and they wouldn’t hesitate to joke “I don’t know which one is
noisier, if my brother or his girlfriend” mocked Alex and Bill turned to see
Gustaf let out a loud laugh “Bill you moan
like a princess”
Y/N laughed and watched Bill’s jaw began to
“I mean… Dad would be very disappointed in
you, brother” Alex stood up to reach a mug
Y/N laughed and walked over to Bill “Let
him alone guys” She said, wrapping her arms around his neck “I love your moans
baby, don’t mind them” she confessed giving him a kiss on his lips and gigglin.
❝You had long since gotten over your crush on your co captain slash roommate, Jimin. Other than the occasional wandering hand that maybe wasn’t so appropriate for someone who was supposed to be supporting you while you were in the air, or congratulatory smack on the ass after practice he was uninterested. Very, very, very much uninterested.❞
You blink down at your lunch tray, a scathing look marring your face when you note the mushed grool on your plate is probably leftovers from yesterday. You eye the cafeteria lady warily when she plops another serving on your tray, expression deadpan—you take longer to move along in line and she thinks she’s doing you a favor by serving you seconds.
“Greta,” you grin pleasantly, inching the tray back in her direction, “you’re doing amazing. Love the enthusiasm, that apron really suits you. However, I pay eight thousand dollars in college tuition and this looks like the wet food I give my dog. Do you think instead of this I could—”
She interrupts you with a wet slap of brown mush being added onto your already growing pile.
“Wonderful,” you sigh, when you note the brown spackle on your uniform top, “can I just get a kale salad instead?”
It was for the best, anyway, you chide yourself. The fact that your school served lunch that was about as edible as aluminum foil made dieting easier. The reminder of your diet, however makes you groan as you reach the condiment station, chancing a smell at the ranch dressing in the clear plastic bowl. When you deem it safe enough to consume, you begin working on the croutons—
“Would you like some salad with your dressing?” Someone snorts from behind you.
You lift a wary gaze to Park Jimin, who’s leaning against the counter, working on organizing his grilled chicken. He cocks a brow at you as though he knows you’re glaring, even without looking.
“And to what do I owe this pleasure so early in the morning?”
Jimin rolls his eyes at you, nudging you out of the way so he can dress his own salad.
“Just think of me as your fairy godmother—I get a tingling sensation whenever you start to double carb.” He snorts, snatching the bread roll off your your tray and shoving you in the direction of your regular lunch table.
“It’s wheat.” You say indignantly, snatching it back and shoving it in your mouth.
“Just because wheat bread induces a slightly lower glycemic response doesn’t mean it’s better for you.” He spouts off automatically and you debate whether or not you can smash your head in before he starts scolding, “There’s no inherently good bread, just one that’s gonna make your ass slightly fatter as opposed to one that’s processed whole wheat.”
Apparently there was no avoiding his scolding this afternoon.
“For the record my mother says I have a wonderful figure,” you inform.
Jimin blinks at you before shoving a piece of chicken in his mouth, “Tell your mom to base for you then.”
“You’re in a fine mood this morning,” you scoff, before sending a teasing smile at your co captain, “I take it the freshman pitched their new uniform idea to you?”
Jimins jaw clenches at the thought, rubbing his aching temples, “I’m all for being a whore. I love the concept, I think it’s great. But I hate the bandage skirt idea. And if we’re going to look like hookers, we should at least be Marilyn Monroe and for like presidents and shit. Not Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.”
“Julia Roberts slander aside,” you glare, “I agree with you. They’re tacky and besides, regionals in three weeks—changing uniforms now would just be complicated, not to mention we have to worry about finding another base now that Hoseok’s graduating.”
“God, don’t fucking remind me, I already have a headache thinking about auditions. But also, I’m so happy you agree which is why I took the liberty of telling them to go fuck themselves.” Jimin grins cheerfully as you stab a pice of kale.
“What did I say about making decisions on my behalf?” You pin him with an annoyed look before throwing your fork down with a clank, “we’re a team Jimin, we make decisions together.”
“Yes and it’s because we’re a team that I know you hate all the things I do.” He explains.
“This is why they don’t respect me.” You say, “at least not as much as they do you.”
“They don’t respect me, they’re scared of me. It’s good for our image. Like a good cop, bad cop kind of thing.” He argues before slicing a piece of his grilled chicken on putting it on your plate, “And will you eat? You wouldn’t have to starve yourself if you made better choices. For example a vinaigrette instead of what is essentially going to be an extra three pounds on your ass.”
You blink at him rapidly before sighing, rising to your feet. “Whatever, Jimin.”
“Hey,” he calls out behind you but you’re already halfway across the cafeteria, equal parts irritable and unamused by Jimins lax behavior. You stop when a hand grips your wrist, “okay jeez I’m sorry. I’m kidding. Quit being a brat and eat your lunch. I said try to drop three pounds not starve yourself.”
“Wow, what a sincere apology,” you snort and attempt to walk away again but he’s gripping you by the waist, far too close for comfort with his front pressed against your back and plush lips at your ear.
This is new. Very new.
Your roommate was a lot of things, touchy was not one of them. If anything, he prided himself on his personal space and was constantly shoving you out of his room, out of his bed, out of the fucking bathroom.
“I’m sorry alright?” He mutters and you close your eyes because he was confusing. So confusing it hurt. “I didn’t mean it. I had one too many bowls of bitch flakes today—either that or you’re PMSi—fucking ow.”
Jimin rubs his side where you elbowed before glaring at you.
“Apology not accepted.” You sniff when he turns you in his arms and there was a time when you would have been ecstatic to be in this position but those feelings have long since fled.
He only tugs you closer with a grin when you don’t fight off his hold. Jimin raises a brow at something over your shoulder and you frown.
“Don’t look now but your baby boyfriend is on his way over,” Jimin whispers before retracting his arms.
“My baby what?” You frown and it only takes you a full second to realize who he’s talking about because before long Jeon Jungkook is crowding your space.
“Hey,” he calls, an arm winding its way around your waist before you’re rolling your eyes at Jimin’s teasing smirk. “What’s going on here?”
“Jungkook,” you greet, before extracting yourself from his hold, “What’s up?”
“I could say the same,” he mutters before nodding at Jimin, “We have a problem here?”
Jimin cringes at his cheesy line before pinning him with a bored look, “Actually we—”
“Me and Jimin were going over cheer stuff. Did you need something?” You interrupt.
“Going over cheer stuff,” Jungkook says back slowly. He stares at Jimin for a second too long before returning his gaze to you, “I just came to check on my girlfriend. I have a game today, you didn’t wish me good luck.”
You close your eyes with a wince when Jimin snorts. A warm palm on your shoulder has you opening them only to glare at the all too mirthful boy in front of you, “Let him down easy, champ.”
With a wave and wink in Jungkook’s direction, Jimin is bounding back towards the lunch table and leaving you with a migraine.
Jungkook is holding your hand and swinging it. You’re not quite sure when that happened.
“Look, Jungkook,” you begin, clearing your throat.
“Oh no.” He sighs.
“Nothing is ever good when a girl starts out with ‘look, Jungkook'—my mom, my sister, the dean of students.” He shrugs.
“So you know what’s coming next then?” You ask hopefully.
“Are you gonna put me on academic probation?” He offers and when you shake your head he stares on, “Not gonna lie, I’m drawing a blank here. I just know whatever you’re saying is not gonna be good.”
All hope dies.
“We’re not dating.” You say gently, tugging your hand out of his. It was too big and overly warm.
Jungkook frowns, confusion wrinkling his brow and for a second you almost feel bad for him, that is until he opens his mouth.
“But you let me…” He chances a look over his shoulder before leaning into whisper harshly, “you let me finger you.”
And therein lies your problem.
You knew better—you truly did—than to let the otherwise inexperienced freshman go further than second base but in your defense you were drunk. You were drunk and he was willing and he was fucking Jeon Jungkook. You were a good person but not that good.
“Yes, Jungkook I did but that doesn’t mean I want to date you.” You explain gently.
“But why would you let me touch you if you didn’t want to date me?” He implores and you blink at him because there was no way in hell someone was this naive.
“Because I was horny and you were there.” You say honestly and to your relief there isn’t a look of pain etched on his features only mild confusion mixed in with annoyance. “Now that we’ve got that settled I have a cheer thing I have to—”
“Wait, wait!” He calls out, gripping your wrist, “but what about me?”
You sigh because no matter how innocent or inexperienced Jeon Jungkook seemed he was still a guy at the end of the day, and they all wanted one thing.
“Fine.” You rolls your eyes, “I’ll suck you off after practice but I got to get goin—”
“No. Not that,” he flushes, “I meant what about… what if I wanted to date you?”
You stare at Jungkook a beat and it’s your turn to be surprised because of all the things you expected to happen today that was the last.
“Do you…” You gulp, eyeing him warily, “have feelings for me?”
“No.” He says honestly and you deflate before glaring at him.
“Oh thank God,” you breathe before smacking his arm, “don’t go around saying shit like that. Jesus. Anyway, why would you want to go on a date with me if you don’t like me either? Does that make sense to you?”
Jungkook rolls his eyes at you before tugging you off to an empty corner of the cafeteria, he lowers his voice even though no ones close enough to hear. “Okay don’t look right away but do you see those guys sitting at that table next to the doo—I said don’t look!”
“Ow!” You whine, rubbing at your scalp after he gives your ponytail a hard yank. “Okay, jeez what about them?”
“They’re on my basketball team.” He informs unhelpfully and you give him a bored look.
“You don’t say?” You gasp, a hand shooting up to cover your mouth, “I couldn’t tell from their uniforms and the guy on the table, spinning the basketball, staring at us.”
Jungkook goes quiet again and you feel a headache coming on because what he made up for in looks and general athleticism he lacked in brain cells.
“Are you being sarcastic?” He frowns and what was the point if all your jabs went right over his head?
Instead, you opt for exasperation, pressing a hand to your aching temple. “What about your basketball team, Jungkook?”
“They think I’m a virgin.”
“Well are you a virgin?” You retort, thinking back to the almost painfully awful finger fuck he gifted you with last weekend.
“That’s besides the point,” he waves you off before gripping your shoulders, “I’m in college now. And a guy. Being a virgin is weird and if they find out I haven’t gone all the way I’m toast.”
“So tell them you boned me and let me get on with my life. I give you my permission, young padawan.” You give him a reassuring smack on the arm before walking away, only to be tugged back by your uniform shirt. “What now?”
“That would be great, except they’ll keep hounding me to have more sex which I’m not opposed to I just… I’m not ready yet you know?”
You blink at him, “I don’t know. I’m a slut.”
“Well pretend you get it and date me. Just for a couple weeks.” He says, “If I have a girlfriend they’ll just assume I’m getting laid on the regular and leave me alone.”
“Okay, but what about me? I actually enjoy getting laid on the regular and no offense but getting fingered by you is about as enjoyable as going to the gynecologist.” You sigh and he winces.
“Noted.” He adds dryly before cocking a brow at you, “So are you up for it?”
“No!” you throw your hands up, “besides dating you could give people the wrong impression. That I’m into things like—”
“Virgins.” You correct with a roll of your eyes. “Sorry Kook, you’re just gonna have to figure shit out on yo—”
“Noona please,” he pleads desperately, hand gripping your upper arm and in all honesty you’re not a hard person to sway but Jungkook is still persistent in his pursuit. He clasps both hands under his chin before dropping to his knees desperately. He’s whining and loudly.
Loud enough to garner attention.
“Will you get up?” You hiss, “People are staring!”
“Will you say yes?” He juts his lower lip out.
“No.” You glare, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Then I’m not getting up.” He pouts.
“Because I care,” you snort, “Camp out here if you want. My answers the st—”
“Pleasepleasepleaseplease,” he whines and you grit your teeth in annoyance, “I’ll owe you big.”
“You’ll owe me?” You cock a brow.
“Yes,” he says desperately, “I’ll do anything.”
“Anything?” You ponder and Jungkook’s stomach turns when you openly give him the once over.
“I… shit… yeah, anything.” He sighs.
Jimin doesn’t ask you what’s wrong and you don’t expect him to—you only bang things louder until he’s sighing from his spot on his bed, pausing the game he’s playing to turn to look at you.
“Is something wrong?”
He looks put out, annoyed. You don’t care.
“Everything’s wrong.” You mutter, stripping off your uniform and throwing it in the dirty clothes.
You have half a mind to remember that you were still in Jimin’s room but it didn’t matter anyway, you and Jimin had long since passed the initial crush stage of your friendship slash roommate agreement—well at least you had, you were almost entirely positive Jimin felt nothing save for mild irritation for you on a good day. That coupled with the fact that he was very much gay set your worries at ease.
“Be more specific?” He sighs, disinterested.
You pause in rummaging through his clothes long enough to narrow your eyes at him, “I hate boys.”
“Good. More for me.” He retorts instantly, shooting you a warning glare when you pause on one of his good t shirts, “I’m wearing that tomorrow, the sweatshirt you’re looking for is in the back.”
You don’t even shoot him a so much as a thank you as you shimmy out of your sports bra, with your back turned to him and tug his hoodie over head. When you’re settled and warm you shoot a mischievous smile at Jimin who’s still glaring at you before—
“Don’t you—” he cut himself off with a curse when you dive under his covers anyway. Jimin seethes quietly as you nestle yourself beneath his sheets, “You know you have your own room right?”
“Don’t you miss me?” You whine before snuggling closer, much to his annoyance, he opts to pinch your side instead of shoving you off the bed completely.
“No. Now move over if you want to stay in here.” he scoffs.
“You know I had a really shitty day,” you glare at his side profile and he doesn’t answer, only picks up the controller to un pause whatever he was playing. “it would be nice if you could be even a little bit supportive.”
“I didn’t sign up for emotional support I signed up for half on utilities and you not leaving your pad wrappers on the bathroom floor.” He mutters, still invested in his tv show.
“Don’t use that voice, I hate it.” He grunts.
“What voice?” You pout.
“You know, the voice.” He sighs, sending you a glance from the corner of his eye, “The one you use on guys to get what you want. Your baby voice, it’s annoying.”
Your cheeks heat with embarrassment and you feign indifference because Jimin never means to be hurtful, he’s only talking to you like he would any other friend… but you didn’t want to be any other friend? You weren’t sure anymore, about how you felt about him. Things were blurred because while you were sure things bordered on platonic and that mostly had to do with the fact that he was so immune to your feminine wiles (snort), you also knew you didn’t want to be treated like one of the guys or like any other fucking girl on the team, that he mostly couldn’t stand.
You wanted to be special. Special in what way, you weren’t entirely sure.
“You’re a dick.” You retort and he tears his gaze away from the screen long enough to cock a brow at you.
“You knew this upon signing the lease.” He snorts and you don’t reply because really, what was there to say. It was well known, Jimin was in fact an asshole—he didn’t like kick puppies or make orphans cry (intentionally) or anything but he was curt and to the point and you didn’t get your feelings hurt easily which is why things worked between the two of you. “Hey, did you get that playlist I sent you?”
You pause in scrolling through your phone to turn to him, “Yeah actually I did. They’re all kind of slow, did you want to use them for routine?”
Jimins hands slow on the controller but he doesn’t divert his attention this time, only hums his disagreement, “Nah, just new songs I stumbled upon I thought you’d dig. They’re good right?”
“Yeah,” you nod eagerly, “I added them to my library actually.”
“Cool.” Jimin grumbles, clearly done with the conversation and you roll your eyes.
You go on like that for a few moments because Jimins content with silence, prefers it actually over what he calls your ‘incessant chattering’ it’s one of many things he finds annoying about you—from what you can tell. He’s left almost every group chat you’re in.
“You talk too much,” he says desperately after one night, a long night of drinking with your team and you’re still sending pictures. He’s in your room and his hairs disheveled and he’s shirtless and he looks delectable and annoyed and seconds away from strangling you.
“Sorry.” You squeak, tugging the blankets up past your chin and he narrows his eyes at you. You can barely make him out in your doorway, but the light from the hallway dances against the planes of chest, making you gulp.
“No you’re not,” he grumbles, throat raspy from liquor and sleep, he sticks a hand out expectantly, “hand it over.”
“W-what?” You push hair back from your face nervously and Jimin adjusts his basketball shorts before sauntering over to your bed.
“Your phone. I’m confiscating it. You’re fucking with my sleep schedule and I have a nine am tomorrow,” Jimin mutters, snatching your iPhone from you. He sends you a menacing glare all while fiddling with the device, “You don’t get to bitch if I drop you on your ass during practice. Now move in.”
“Huh?” Your eyebrows shoot to your hairline at that and Jimin is sending you a bland look, a hand pressed to his aching temple like talking to you is causing him physical pain. But he doesn’t respond only yanks the blanket from under you, making you all too aware of your lack of clothing when the bed dips beneath his weight.
“Move. In.” He enunciates, “I’m drunk as hell, tired as hell, and not up for the walk to my room.”
“It’s across the hall.” You remind him and in the darkness of your bedroom, with the pale moonlight dancing in and reflecting off the single chain Jimin always wears you’re overwhelmed by him. By his scent, his body, his withering stare when he presses a finger to your forehead.
“Sleep now.” He grumbles.
And maybe that was when it truly started, when the both of you settled down after that long night of drinking, him telling you to sleep on your stomach so you don’t choke on your own vomit, and you staring on dumbly, the beginnings of an on again off again infatuation for your roommate, your friend, that never really went away—no matter how unwilling a participant you were.
There’s a brief period of time (that you’ve made a conscious effort to block out) that you openly pined for him. There was no stumbling into the kitchen a mess, with morning breath that threatened to singe his eyebrows off if you struck up a conversation. No. If Jimin had class at nine am, you were up, with your lashes curled and your favorite tinted BB cream by seven forty five—you looked fresh faced, what a boy who hadn’t spent nearly five plus years of his life around girls with bedazzled vaginas would consider natural. But alas—
Jimin is a hairsbreadth from your face and you thank every god you could think of you woke up at the ass crack of dawn to wash your hair. His eyes narrow and he worries his lower lip before pulling back.
“You didn’t blend your neck,” he comments before grabbing his hoodie next to you and bidding you adieu.
For the first month of your crush you spend every morning in the kitchen (after of course closely inspecting your makeup under several different lightings), making him breakfast, green smoothies even. But Jimin is a health nut, on top of being an obsessive perfectionist. He preps his food the night before, likes all of his ducks in a row when he starts his morning at eight fifteen on the dot. His expression the first time you offer him turkey bacon and eggs is a cocktail of mild disgust and disinterest.
“I’m counting macros this week.” He explains, before transferring his smoothie from the blender into a thermos.
You tongue at your cheek before taking a bite of the ridiculously chewy meat.
Your first Valentine’s Day with Jimin is always a memorable one, for sheer comedic relief if nothing else.
The two of you are regularly inseparable at practice, and some of it had to do with you being a fly and him base, your base, but a lot of it was because he didn’t… mesh well with others. He was too blunt, too rough around the edges and he took cheer seriously. The times Jimin spoke about himself were far and in-between, but you distantly remember him telling you that before he started doing cheer he did gymnastics competitively for a good chunk of his life. That explained a lot of things, honestly. Why he was so by the book, strict about everything from uniforms to ponytails, to diets—of all the boys on the squad, he was maybe the only one who gave a shit about stuff like that. It was because of all of that that he made a good co captain, and if it weren’t for his inability to compromise and just generally stomach other peoples presence, you were positive he would have beat you out for the captain position.
It also explained why he was so strong. The guy regularly worked out, yeah but he was like, open the pickle jar strong. And then there was his food intake which was crazy, all things considered, because he ate a lot to build muscle but it was all so healthy you couldn’t imagine anyone enjoying it. You wouldn’t lie, the first time Jimin lifted you during auditions your heart nearly beat out of your chest because he did it all with one arm and caught you effortlessly against his chest.
“Here,” Jimin says, handing you a tumbler filled with purple liquid at the end of practice, he hitches his gym bag up higher on his shoulder and waits for you to accept it. “I brought you a smoothie from home.”
“Thanks, what is it?” You ask, sniffing it and ignoring the glare Jimin shoots your way. It doesn’t smell offensive and you take a hesitant sip, “Actually this is good.”
He nods with a sheepish shrug and you try to tamp down the zoo of butterflies in your chest that are telling you that this is a sign, that Park Jimin making you a smoothie is his weird, male, health nut equivalent of chocolates and a confession. Your heart seems to gain wings at the prospect and then he ruins it like he always does because he’s Jimin and he ruins things. That’s his job title and occupation, Park Jimin, The Ruiner.
“It’s a detox smoothie actually,” he says when you’re already on your second mouthful, cheeks puffed with the berry concoction. Jimin was a lot of things, tactless was one of them, “I thought it would help with… you know. Plus, I do strength training in my free time but this partnership only works if you keep up your end. You should come to the gym with me in the mornings, you’re up anyway with like a full face of makeu—”
You shove the tumbler back at his chest before sucking your teeth at him, “I’m gonna go shower and then head home. See you there.”
Jimin frowns at your retreating figure by glancing down at the smoothie, he takes a sip for curiosity’s sake. “What’s her problem?”
The first time you see Jimin kissing a boy there’s no tell tale signs of arousal that all of mainstream media swore by. Only pure unadulterated jealousy tinged with sadness. You watch the way Jimin cups the boys jaw, the way his own jaw works in time with his lips. It’s not rushed or heated, filled with passion like a lover—it’s slow and a little timid, like the first kiss at the end of a date and your stomach turns.
You watch the two boys pull away, Jimin looking the softest you’ve ever seen. You wondered what it felt like to be the recipient of that gaze, but it wasn’t a side of him you were meant to see, or a moment meant for you, and you reminded yourself that you were intruding. You leave the hallway too quickly that day and maybe sulk for longer than was necessary in the weeks to follow, cry even, because your nineteen year old self is (gag) heartbroken. It won’t be another month of stilted conversation and failed attempts at avoidance until you’ve pushed the feeling to the back of your brain and manage to find a middle ground in your relationship with him.
“If you return my shirt with boob sweat I’m gonna use it to smother you in your sleep.” Jimin reminds and you scoff. “That’s my good shirt.”
“That was one time.” You shoot up indignantly and immediately regret it because with regionals nearing you were doing conditioning instead of regular routines and every muscle in your body was on fire from today’s practice.
Jimin sighs before getting to his knees and giving you a hard look, “Did you—”
“Before you ask whatever you’re gonna ask I came straight here after practice, showered and went to class I haven’t had time to do anything else.” You interrupt and Jimin rolls his eyes at you.
“Lay back,” he orders and you oblige immediately because as strict as Jimin was as far as diet and exercise was concerned, he considered you an extension of himself. His partner. And if you weren’t in good shape you were holding him back which is why he ignores your yells of protest when he pushes back on the leg you have pressed to his chest.
“Okay, okay, okay.” You say, slapping his arm so he would let up, “That’s enough.”
“Shut up.” He says mildly, pushing until your knee was nestled between both your chests. He slaps the back of your calf and you glare, “Straighten this.”
“Fuck off.” You grit out.
He cocks a brow at you and you regret your words when he adds more pressure.
“Jimin, fuuuuck,” you whine earnestly, a hand pressed to his chest because the pain was getting to be too much and he didn’t seem to be letting up anytime soon. He doesn’t recline right away, and you peek an eye open in time to see a look cross his face before he guides your leg back slowly with a nod.
“How’s your knee doing?” He murmurs, and you lean your head back against the pillow when he begins feeling up your leg.
As much as you hated to admit it, Jimin’s extensive athletic career as well as his major proved to be useful on more than one occasion in your house. As an athlete you could appreciate a roommate who was studying physical therapy, especially when it came to the massage aspect.
“It’s been fine these last few weeks,” you shrug, “hasn’t been giving me any problems.”
“Start wearing your knee brace again.” He says when he places one hand on your knee and the other on your ankle. You narrow your eyes when he moves it side to side, “Your knees been giving out at practice. I’ll kick your ass if you dislocate it before regionals.”
“Noted.” You scoff, but it’s more of a gasp when Jimin’s hands are on your hips, barely under his hoodie and skimming the skin just above your spandex. His face is passive all the while, nudging you up the bed.
“Move up, I’m gonna check your range of motion.” He explains and Jimin is all work and no fun. Sometimes you wonder how he can remain so disinterested, clinical at times like this when you feel like your whole body is on fire under his touch.
Your leg is back up in the air and Jimin is moving it in hesitant circles, up and down, side to side and you close your eyes, trying not to gasp everytime he presses your legs closed and tiny shockwaves of pleasure shoot straight to your clit. He never presses down long enough to evoke a reaction but you lay back and relax, enjoying what little intimacy you’re allowed with him.
Everything is good, it’s nice, relaxing, his touch is enough to leave you horny, you’ll probably have to rub one out in your room later but not enough to have you cumming right then and there. Your eyes shoot open when you feel him move in, his hand no longer resting on your leg but on the innermost of your thigh, too high up as he presses down.
Too, too high up. Too, too close to the apex of your thighs.
You cock a brow and in typical Jimin fashion he stares on blandly, cool as a cucumber sitting between your legs and forcing them open.
“Buy me a drink first?” You say a little breathlessly, and joking is your way of coping with this, him, your ego, which was sorely bruised because Park Jimin was more than immune to you and that sucked royally.
“Get your head out of the gutter.” He says, but he does it with a small smile, “If you did this on your own I wouldn’t have to do it for you.”
“It’s not as fun on my own.” You comment.
“It never is.” He teases back and it’s the closest you’ve ever gotten to flirting with him. You simultaneously revel in it and chide yourself for still being so head over hills for someone who sees you as no more than an object in his everyday life, like a lamp or the refrigerator. You’d notice if it were gone but you could always get a new refrigerator.
“Okay, I think I’m good for the night! Thanks I’ll just go back to my room an—”
A crack sounds in the room, echoing off his walls, so loud it nearly drowns out the strangled noise you make in your throat. You blink up at Jimin, equal parts shocked and turned on when he rubs the sensitive skin of your thigh, the innermost part he just slapped. Welts form under his soft palm but he doesn’t look the tiniest bit sorry, in fact, he doesn’t look anything. His expression is just as calm as collected as it was when you had first walked in. It leaves you confused, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
“Did you just…” You gesture between your thighs and Jimin patiently waits for you to continue as he closes your legs back up, letting you know you’re done with at home PT. “Did you just spank me?”
“Take better care of yourself and I won’t have to.” He says softly and you’re searching, searching for something, anything in his face that’ll give you even the slightest idea of what the fuck just happened. But you come up empty, even as he presses on, “Stop skipping lunch to talk to that freshman. Make healthier choices so you don’t have to do extreme diets and stop,” He grips your knee softly before staring up at you, “neglecting your health.”
You nod mutely, when he finishes because there’s nothing else to really say. Jimins been acting weird, very weird these past few days and while every fiber of your being, every natural instinct is telling you ‘he likes you! you love him, offer to suck his dick!’ the rational part of your brain quashes any hope and reminds you how well trying to pursue feelings for your roommate turned out the last time.
“I’m going to bed.” You say dumbly, blinking at him and Jimin nods, not moving to say goodbye or watch you walk out.
You press your back against his door when you leave because Park Jimin would be the death of you, but oh what a way to go.
“Look, I’m sorry okay?” Hoseok sighs, trailing after you as you re-shelf the books you were scanning. Stupid midterm paper. Stupid college.
“Hm, I’m sorry I don’t know what you’re sorry for, unless of course you’re apologizing for interrupting my studying then, I forgive you Hoseok because that’s just the kind of loving, nurturing, sweet captain I am.” You return, back still to the older boy when he rolls his eyes at you, “Don’t roll your eyes at me.”
“I’m quitting the squad.” Hoseok says with a finality that makes you snort.
“‘Kay. Don’t be late to practice today or I’ll shove my foot so far up your ass you won’t be able to walk much less cheer.” You say sweetly.
“I admit, it’s a bit troublesome,” Hoseok sighs.
You whirl around on him at that, eyes narrowed, “Getting your pubes caught in the sticky part of your pad is a bit troublesome—you quitting the fucking team three weeks before a competition is a lot of fucking troublesome you asshole.”
“First of all ew,” He whines something that sounds dangerously close to your name and you don’t have to turn to know he’s pouting, “Second, you know there’s more to life than cheer! I’m graduating soon and I need to focus on my studies, and start looking into a career.”
“Listen here you little bitch,” you hiss, shoving a finger in his face until Hoseok was going cross eyed, “I can smell the entire bag of marijuana you smoked on your way here. Who put you up to this? Namjoon? I’ll kick your ass, I’ll kick his ass and then whichever one of your dumb friends helped coerce you into ‘lightening your load’ before you graduate. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to.”
“But I want to party,” he pouts and nearly eats his words when your eye twitches, “God, you and Jimin are really a match made in heaven, huh? How are two people that are so tiny, so terrifying?”
“Hoseok, you can’t quit we have regionals and the freshman are giving me a fucking ulcer. Where am I going to find and be able to train a base in three weeks?” You implore, pressing a hand to your aching temple.
“I’m sorry,” Hoseok says and he doesn’t look the least bit sorry. You debate on shoving you foot up his ass for old times sake when he pats you on the shoulder, “You’re a good cheerleader. An even better captain, I know you’ll figure it out.”
“Fuck off,” you glare, shoving a finger in his chest, “if anything weird happens to you this week, just know it’s me cursing you.”
You stand there, with your back pressed against the bookshelf for a good minute, just watching Hoseok’s retreating figure. His shoulders are sagged in relief, like he was just let from under a tremendous weight, one he turned around and perched atop your shoulders.
When you get back to your library table you’re pouting, on the verge of losing your shit in the otherwise dead silent room because why, why did bad things happen to good people? As though you weren’t already stressed from midterms, it was like you had a giant fucking sign on your forehead that said ‘hey, screw me over!’
“What is it now?” Someone hums across from you and you barely have time to register that it’s Nayeon before you’re jutting your lower lip.
And for what it’s worth, Nayeon is a good friend because she stops studying, sets her books and binders and pens aside to focus all of her attention on you. Then she listens, and listens, and listens because it’s only been three days since you’ve seen each other but it seems as though a lot has happened. By the time you’re done debriefing her, she’s staring at you, a frown marring her pretty face and her arms crossed over her chest because—
“You’re a glutton for punishment, aren’t you?” she sighs, carding hands through her hair, “Let me just… let me just see if I follow here, Jungkook the freshman, the virgin you let finger you at the party last week, he wants you to deflower him?”
“No, he doesn’t even want sex—can you believe…! He wants me to date him, so worst.” You correct, “Fake date him to get his teammates off his back because he’s fucking twelve apparently and not immune to peer pressure.”
“And your roommate, Jimin, your gay roommate,” she emphasizes the gay part and you glare at her, “you think you’re starting to… feel things for him again?”
“I mean, technically,” you put a hand out to stop her, “the feelings never really went away, but they’ve just been lying dormant like waiting for him or myself to entertain them and Nayeon, the other day, in the cafeteria he hugged me. He back hugged me. Jimin, the same person who made a six year old cry last year, and then kicked his dad’s ass. I want to die.”
“And Hoseok,” she presses a hand to her head, “the drug dealing cheerleader. He quit.”
“He’s not a drug dealer, he just smokes a lot of weed,” you roll your eyes, “his friend, Namjoon, he’s a drug dealer. I’m gonna kick his ass because he convinced Hoseok to quit the fucking team.”
“And… you have regionals in less than a month, correct?”
“Yes. So you see my problem right?” You whine.
“You have multiple problems, most of which I can’t help you with, being in love with your gay roommate ranks at the top of that list,” she sends you a sarcastic look before snapping her fingers at you, “but the Hoseok thing. I know how you can fix that. It’ll be like killing two birds with one stone.”
“This is so… lame.” Jungkook groans and you slap him upside the head before gesturing towards the rest of the squad.
“Team, I’d like you to meet our new base.” You smile tightly before patting a hand on his shoulder, and pulling something from behind your back, “This is Jungkook.”
“What’s that for?” Momo, a second year on the team frowns and you brighten at her question, bringing the glass jar to everyone’s attention.
“This,” you begin, “is negative reinforcement. Anytime he says something rude, stupid, or offensive feel free to let me know and I’ll charge him, all proceeds go towards new uniforms for the team.”
“What happened to Hoseok?”
“Hoseok decided to focus on his studies.” You say and you barely make it through the sentence before someone’s cutting you off with a snort. “Jungkook’s going to be replacing him.”
“That’s such bullshit!” Mina scoffs, “Has he ever even cheered before?”
“No but I have more than two brain cells I’m sure I can figure it out.” Jungkook retorts and you press a hand to your aching temple, resisting the urge to argue his declaration of having even more than one struggling fucking brain cell.
“Five dollars.” You seethe and Jungkook only challenges your stare for a moment before he’s reaching in his back pocket for his wallet, shoving a bill in. You cock a brow at him. He curses you before putting in another dollar.
“What’s going on over here?”
It’s a natural response, almost second nature by now, the goosebumps, the heat in the pit of your belly, the chill at the base of your spine. You should be a little more put out over the response Jimin evokes, even after all this time but you couldn’t force yourself to care. Instead you sigh.
“Jimin, this is Jungkook. You two have met before. He’s going to be filling in for Hoseok from here on out.” You explain and brace yourself because Jimin is a lot of things. Complacent isn’t one of them. He doesn’t settle for anything short of perfect and one look at Jungkook has him straightening his shoulders and eyeing you like he’s about to throw you out a window.
“Who says?” Jimin challenges and it’s your turn to cock a brow at him, hands planted firmly on your hips.
“Me, the captain.” You shoot back.
“Did he even audition?” Jimin retorts and you roll your eyes at him.
“Audition for what? It isn’t exactly like we have troves of fucking college kids lined up to fill the spot.” You argue.
“You’re cut.” Jimin says, ignoring you and sneering down his nose at Jungkook.
And Jungkook, for all his complaints and the bitch fit he put up the entire way you had dragged him to the field, didn’t take well to being told what to do. Especially by assholes. Correction, especially by assholes in a matching fucking tracksuit.
“Weird. My girlfriend, the captain,” cue audible gasp from over dramatic cheerleaders, “says otherwise.”
You press a hand to your forehead with a visible shudder because where did this guy find his material? So corny.
“Your girlfriend?” Jimin laughs, and turns his head to peer over at the bleachers before raising a brow at you. You squirm under his intense scrutiny, “So you’re dating the kid?”
“I mean… we’re not not dating.” You mutter and yelp when Jungkook pinches your side.
“What does that even mean?” Jimin implores.
“Like, we’re not like boyfriend and girlfriend it’s just like sometimes he waits for me outside my class and we go to see the newest movies and stuff together and maybe he’ll buy me like lunch on the way and like I don’t know kiss me or hold my hand but not like in a boyfriend way, he’s not my boyfriend.” You rush out and when you glance back up the two boys are staring at you incredulously.
“What exactly is your definition of boyfriend—anal? That sounds like maybe the only thing you haven’t done with him.” Jimin rolls his eyes at you when you slap his chest. He could at least act like it hurt.
“So anyway, let’s start practice!” You clear your throat, pushing past both of them and towards the middle of the field, “Pair up and get started on your stretches!”
Jimin and Jungkook glare at each other even after everyone begins stretching, speeding up your already impending headache.
“I don’t like you.” Jimin comments mildly.
Jungkook snorts at that.
“I’m quivering. Your tracksuit really evokes a sense of fear in a guy.” He rolls his eyes before sneering, “You look like Vector from Despicable Me.”
“Okay, that’s enough. I’ve had it with you two and your dick measuring contest.” You hiss, getting in between either of them and crossing your arms over your chest.
“Bet I’d win.” Jungkook sniffs, “Everytime.”
“Yeah?” Jimin tongues at the inside of his cheek, the way he sizes Jungkook up makes the younger boy squirm, “Wanna find out after this?”
Jungkook opens his mouth to argue before closing it again—he does this a few more times before squinting his eyes and cocking his head to the side at the older boy. “That got really gay, really fast.”
Jungkook turns to look at you, pointing a finger at Jimin before, “Is he—”
“Jar, Jungkook.” You exasperate.
“I didn’t even say anything!”
“You didn’t have to.” You hiss.
“Fine, homoerotic, is that the politically correct term?” He sighs and you clench your hands at your sides in an attempt to not strangle him.
Not in front of witness.
“Stop talking.” You put a finger up to silence him and then turn your attention to Jimin, “Let’s start practice, yeah? We can be mature about this?”
“Matures my middle name.” Jimin seethes.
As it is, mature is not Jimin’s fucking middle name, it wasn’t even his stripper name because between the jabs he had been making at Jungkook’s inability to pick up on the workouts as quickly, or the way he would send the younger boy a pointed look whenever he wasn’t as flexible as the other guys on the team you were about five minutes from strangling him.
“Why can’t I be her partner?” Jungkook argues at one point when Jimin immediately grabs your arm for stretches.
“Because you’ll fuck around and throw her back out and then I’ll kill you.” Jimin says politely before yanking you closer to him. His movement is only slightly halted when Jungkook reaches out to grab your other arm and your glancing between the two of them wildly.
“It’s not fucking rocket science I’m sure she can tell me what to do.” Jungkook scoffs, tugging on your arm.
“I’ve been her partner for three fucking years, if you want to look up someone’s skirt do it on your free time or pair up with one of the other freshman on the team, you’re wasting my time.” Jimin grits out.
“Why can’t you pair up with one of the freshman on the team, if you’re so experienced doesn’t it make sense if noona helps me instead of you? I also need some experienced help.” Jungkook enunciates.
“Fine.” Jimin says, letting go of your arm and making you stumble, he cocks a brow at Jungkook, jaw clenched, “get on your back and spread your legs I’m your new partner.”
You and Jungkook stare at each other for a beat before turning to openly gawk at Jimin, who was sporting an expression that told you he was bored with the entire conversation and had been tired of Jungkook five minutes ago.
“Take your pick,” Jimin shrugs, “it’s either one of the freshman or me. Personally, I can stretch you out real good—”
“Okay stop.” You say finally, pressing a hand to either boys chest, you level Jimin with an exasperated expression, one that he pointedly ignores before turning to Jungkook, “I’m going to partner with him today, Jungkook, the other girls are really helpful and if you have any questions you can ask me but I don’t think it’s a good idea to try and deviate from routine. Me and Jimin have been working together for a lot longer and it’ll take both of us to be able to incorporate you into the flow of things. It’s just easier this way.”
Jimin shoots the younger boy a smug look, one you want to smack off his face because despite the rush of butterflies Jimin’s current possessive nature was giving you, you knew it was only because he didn’t want Jungkook around. He didn’t want you injured because you were just a stepping stone towards his real goal which was essentially regionals. It sucked and was kind of dick-ish but you knew this about Jimin from the get go, he had never pretended otherwise or came to you under false pretenses. Jimin had a very one-tracked mind and it was currently stuck on the aforementioned competition your team faced.
“Stop it.” You sigh and Jimin raises a brow at you, “You know what you’re doing. You’re egging him on an—unf.”
You wither him with a glare when he positions you to get a better seat between your legs. “You were saying?”
You were really beginning to hate stretching. Especially with Jimin.
“You’re little games not cute and it’s making things difficult for m—shit.” You curse when he presses back on your leg until one knee was pressed against your shoulder.
“Should we work on your flexibility next?” Jimin asks and he’s obnoxiously close to you, his cool breath fanning over your face, but your focus was on his lips. Your throat goes dry when he licks them, his voice lowering an octave, “Or should we do that later? When we’re alone?”
His questions hits you like a punch to the gut and you’re suddenly choking because that almost sounded flirtatious but when you glance up to try and get a read on Jimin’s expression, he’s impassive, unfazed by his double entendre.
“W-What?” You stammer, shoving at his chest until the pressure on your leg gives. Jimin blinks at you curiously.
“We might not have enough time, we could do it at the apartment?” He offers innocently, only Jimin was about as innocent as Satan and you didn’t buy his raised eyebrows and saucer eyes.
A sigh leaves your lips as yourself down on the grass. Tired. So tired.
“Since this discussion has long since been put off,” you sigh before plopping yourself down on an available seat of grass, “I’m opening the floor. I hear that you all want new uniforms so Jimin and I have decided that we—”
“Not me,” Jimin corrects, “just her. If it were up to me you’d all be wearing trash bags to better suit your shitty performance.”
“Jimin and I,” you begin again, “have decided to take suggestions and if you guys are really dead set on this then we can work on fundraising too.”
“The current uniforms are fine, the only ones who want to change it are the freshman!” Kihyun calls from the back, garnering more than a few glares and making Jimin snicker.
“They are not fine. They’re gray.” Eunha chimes in, “Like prison cells. Gray is why prisoners are unhappy.”
“Really? I always thought it was the loss of freedom and free manual labor,” Jimin snorts, ignoring when you slap his chest.
“I think new uniforms would be a good look.” Jungkook says, leaning back to inspect the back of your thighs, “I say we take the hem up an inch… or five.”
“Ten dollars.” You say without blinking and Jungkook sulks.
“What about black uniforms? It’s a flattering color! And we could go with gray for an accent so we don’t stray too far from school colors.”
“That's…” You begin hesitantly, “not a bad idea, actually.”
“Oh! Long sleeve tops! I’ve been looking them up online and they look so much more… Professional? A lot of the top schools are going for long sleeve instead of sleeveless.” Eunha offers.
“Maybe if you all started practicing like a top school, we’ll consider it.” Jimin scoffs and groans echo through out the huddle.
“Draw up a design. Get it approved by us and coach and while you’re at it, start thinking of fundraising ideas to pitch.” You say, rising to your feet and dusting the grass from your bottom, “If it’s good and everything works out maybe we’ll be able to get new uniforms before regionals.”
“Practice is over. Go home and stretch, hydrate and ice if you need to assholes, I’m tired of you coming to me with injuries that could have been avoided.” Jimin seethes and you roll your eyes because you think, for a moment, beneath all the bravado he actually gives a shit about the kids.
It isn’t until you’re hitching your gym bag up your shoulder and swapping your tennis shoes out for slippers that you feel Jungkook’s weight being pressed onto your shoulders.
“Can I help you?” You sigh, shaking off his grip and making him whine.
“What the hell was that?” He glowers, gesturing towards the field and when you stare at him blankly he elaborates, “That practice was worst than literally any training I’ve done for basketball—off season included.”
“Welcome to cheerleading, bitch.” You say, slapping him on the shoulder. You turn to leave, and press fingers to your closed eyes when your movement is halted by his grip on your wrist. “What?”
“Can you… you know… help with that thing you offered earlier?” He coughs, rubbing the back of his neck and you eye him incredulously.
“What? No! No! I meant… the routines. It’s just… that… you know Jimin doesn’t like me too much and the stuff we were going over earlier was complicated but I can’t ask him and I don’t want to look like an idiot I just,” Jungkook sighs and it takes every bit of self control not to snap at him, even going as far as to remind yourself that he was doing you a favor. Even if it was only out of debt. He was trying to help.
Which is why you throw your bag down with an exasperated sigh and slip your shoes back on, “Let’s practice a bit then.”
Somewhere down the line you had just assumed, no, hoped that either of the boys would get used to each other. At least enough to be civil. You didn’t need them to be glued at the foreskin but you did need them to not give you a migraine whenever you were forced to be in the same room as them.
“This is shared space. That means no boyfriends after eleven o’clock,” Jimin hissed after one entire evening of Jungkook lounging on your couch, eating a bag of Cheetohs and getting crumbs everywhere. “So get whatever breed of cockroach this is, out of my living room.”
“He’s not my—”
Jungkook cuts you off with a withering glare, pausing the newest episode of Bones to speak around a mouthful of chips, “Noona, can we go over the routine again this weekend? I think I’m starting to forget. I wouldn’t want to choke on competition day. That would suck.”
His threat was so apparent that Jimin’s lips thin, making a move towards the younger boy, if it weren’t for your grip on his upper arm. “Jeon Jungkook, do you wan—”
“Let’s go to my room.” You interrupt, tugging the younger boy up by the wrist and dragging him the rest of the way.
“What was that for?” Jungkook grumbles, rubbing at his wrist as though it hurt, as if he wasn’t a whole foot taller and a person heavier than you.
“Stop pissing off my roommate.” You demand, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Oh come on! I’m not even doing anything.” Jungkook glares, “It’s not my fault he has a hard on for you!”
“Trust me when I say he doesn’t,” you snort and glare when Jungkook leans back against your headboard, completely ignoring you, “Besides, all of this was not apart of our deal. Get out of my house.”
“He totally does,” Jungkook argues, disregarding your earlier statement and making himself comfortable under your throw, “I mean, I know girls have a hard time admitting they’re wrong but trust me, you’re wrong about this one. A guy doesn’t get pissed like that unless you’re fucking with a girl he’s into.”
“A normal guy doesn’t,” you correct, “Jimin likes his space. You are intruding on that, in more than one sense.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, but I’m telling you I’m 100% right.” Jungkook shrugs, reaching over
“He’s wrong.” Nayeon sighs, head rested on her palm as you occupy the seat across from her. Cutting into important study time, again. “Well, not entirely wrong.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You crinkle your nose at her and she rolls her eyes.
“He has a hard on for someone, it’s just not you.” Nayeon whispers and your eyes widen.
“No!” You gasp.
“Yes!” she says, slamming her hands down on the table, and wincing when people several tables over turn to gawk. “I mean think about it. You said Jimins gay right? And that he shows no emotion save for mild disinterest where you’re concerned but suddenly Jeon Jungkook comes along and he’s irritable, territorial, emotional? Jimin is one of those guys, you know?”
“I don’t.” You shake your head, but all your attention is focused on her, you’re hanging on her every word.
“He doesn’t know how to properly express his emotions so he’s lashing out.” she explains slowly.
And it’s like everything suddenly makes sense in the universe, all the pieces click together and your heart feels as though a fat man has just situated himself on your chest. Because, did Jimin really like Jungkook? Were you really going to be forced to sit back and watch him pine for another man, again? Then there was the more jealous part of you, the ugly emotions that lurked beneath the surface that you weren’t ready to address. Thoughts like, do you lie to him? You hadn’t intended on keeping the entire Jungkook thing a secret because if you were being honest with yourself you thought Jimin might try to throw him off the nearest balcony if he knew you weren’t actually dating him. But the more you thought about it the more you wanted to keep it to yourself and it wasn’t exactly lying, was it?
“You’re making the face.” Nayeon sighs.
“What face?” You frown.
“The one you make when you’re having a heated, internal monologue over your skewed moral compass.” She explains.
“I was not…” you lie before plopping your head down in defeat.
You totally were, but Nayeon is polite enough not to call you out on it.
If you had to rank your to do list for the day, telling Jimin that you weren’t actually dating Jungkook so that your roommate who you had been openly pining for for the last three years could swoop in was ranked at the bottom. Right above dying and going to another party with Hoseok’s weird friends. Though if you were being honest with yourself, you’d take death happily at this point, it sounded a whole hell of a lot less painful. Especially when just trying to squeeze yourself into Jimin’s schedule was a pain in the ass.
If he wasn’t on campus, juggling seven classes to complete school on time he was at cheer practice, which wasn’t a prime place to tell him because Jungkook—and if he wasn’t at cheer practice he was at the gym, or asleep and you’d try waking Jimin up exactly once in your entire time knowing him and it was one too many. The guy wasn’t exactly a morning person.
So the gym it was.
“I’m surprised you actually wanted to come.” Jimin muses, fixing your posture before switching out your kettlebell for a heavier one. You try not to glare.
“I figure,” you grunt when he lets go, leaving you to manage the ten pound weight on your own, a small feat when you’ve already been there for thirty minutes and your arms felt like jelly, “you were right. I wouldn’t be a good captain if I started neglecting myself.”
“Hmm..” He hums, and pressed a hand to your exposed belly, “suck this in.”
“So I was thinking,” you pant and Jimin quirks a brow at you.
“A scary prospect.” He murmurs.
“I was thinking,” you begin again, before dropping the weight completely and turning to face him, “about me and Jungkook…. and me and you.”
“Did I say you could stop?” He implores and you roll your eyes at him before switching arms, “What do you and Jungkook have to do with you and me?”
“You’re my roommate.” You grunt, heaving up with all your might. “And you hate him.”
“You’re not wrong about either of those things,” he agrees, “but I’d like to reiterate my first question of what do either of those things have to do with each other?”
“I just…” You try to get the words out but your muscles are on fire and your chest is tight, so instead you throw the weight down with a grunt before turning to him, “Do you like Jungkook?”
“What?” He blinks at you. “You just said yourself I hated him.”
“Yes, okay I know but you know sometimes you say one thing and you mean another.” You shrug.
Jimins expression remains bland, emotionless.
“You’re asking me if I have… feelings for your boyfriend, correct? That’s what we’re getting at here?” Jimin asks bluntly and you shrink under his intense scrutiny.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you say quietly.
A long silence follows your statement, in which Jimin stares at you, just stares and you cow under his gaze because well, it’s Jimin and he’s pretty fucking intimidating. You look anywhere but at him, the airconditioner, the weights, the treadmill, all while still able to feel him boring holes into the side of your head and you wonder maybe, if you had over stepped. If you had spoken too soon because granted you and Jimin were pretty close but clearly not close enough because to this day he still never really talked about the whole liking boys things or even relationships in general. It made you wonder just how many people Jimin had dated, if he had asked them out, if he was softer, sweeter or—
“You’re really dense you know that?” Jimin shakes his head at you before walking over to the weights, leaving you there slack jawed and a little bit annoyed.
“Hey! Wait up!” You call after him, but he doesn’t, unsurprisingly. “I didn’t mean it like that I was only asking because I wanted to tell you that—”
“Did you watch that new clown movie?” Jimin asks suddenly and he nearly gives you whiplash with how quick he’s jumping topics. You open your mouth to argue, to tell him you were only asking so you could tell him you and Jungkook weren’t really dating but the glint in his eye tells you not to tread there. He’s done talking about it, and by effect so are you.
“No I haven’t.” You sigh, your body slumping in defeat.
“Good,” he grunts, pulling down on the weights before turning his attention to you. And you applaud yourself because you don’t keel over at the sight of a sweaty, sleeveless Park Jimin doing reps on the pull down machine, veins bulging and muscles flexed. He sends you a look that tells you he knows exactly what you’re thinking and makes your back straighten indignantly. “Did you hear what I just said?”
“The clown movie.” You repeat proudly, only for Jimin to roll over and flick your forehead.
“Yes genius, but after that,” he sends you a grin, one you’re not used to seeing. He’s teasing you, but it doesn’t annoy you quite as much as usual, “I said let’s go see it. I figure you owe me after that insult you pulled.”
“Wh—” Your mouth opens and the closes before pointing a finger in his direction, “I didn’t mean it like that, if you would just let me explain—”
“Well I took it that way, you’re the only one stupid enough to date that overgrown toddler. And besides, it’s a simple question. Yes or no?” He frowns and you sigh.
“I mean… I don’t really have anything else to do this weekend so..”
“Good to know I’m a last resort.” He snorts and you hide a flush because if only he knew.
And really, if you looked at the entire thing, your situation with Jimin in retrospect it was truly all your fault. Because no matter how much you claim to have both your feelings and heart in check there is no such thing as control when it comes to love. And so you get your hopes, let yourself hope for a moment, with Jungkook’s earlier words replaying like a soft lull. When really you should’ve taken the idiots advice with a grain of salt. Or just not at all.
-he’d be groaning loudly as your head bobbed up and down his length underneath his desk, but the instant you felt his member twitch leading you to immediately stop-
*lets out an annoyed whimpered* “Jagi, come on- I need to cum don’t stop.”
You; *giggles, slowly stroking his manhood* “No yet babe.~”
“I swear to god, y/n, I’m gonna fucking lose it.”
-just as your skilled mouth seemed to usher him close to his edge, you stop rising up only to straddle him; gently grinding your sopping core against his cock-
*throws his head back, letting out a loud desperate groan* “Fu- Fuck..” “Please let me feel you, princess.. I ne- I need to finish..”
-gripping your hips, you expertly rode him; filling the room with a mix of yours and his moans, but just as he began to whimper you slowly lifted yourself off him, allowing his swollen member to slip out of you-
You; “No cumming yet, TaeTae..”
*immediately whines, bucking his hips up* “Ja- Jagi, please don’t do this now, please..”
You; “I didn’t give you permission to cum, though.”
*pouts while letting soft mewls escape him as you lightly tracing the tip along your heat* “I can’t help it, your pussy just feels so good.” “Please, just let me cum babygirl, please.”
-as you rode him, he’d thrust upwards, matching each one of your movements; gripping your thighs, pressing his fingertips into you as he let out a shaky groan-
“I’m- I’m gonna..” *his thrusts start to turn sloppy as his member begins to twitch inside you and you automatically move off him; your mouth taking your heat’s spot* “Y/n, babygirl, please don’t play games- I need to cum..” *you just giggle, giving his aching member little kitten licks*
“Fi- Fine, just wait til you want to cum then.”
-just as the feeling of your skilled mouth drew his climax closer and closer, you’d slowly lift off him; gently stroking his swollen length-
*his staggered breaths and angelic whines automatically had you giggling* “Don- Don’t laugh, Jagi..” *pouts as he just seems to melt under your touch* “Please, don’t tease me anymore, I need to cum so badly.”
-he’d be so enveloped in watching your bounce up and down his manhood, that he wouldn’t notice his incoming climax until sensitivity began to wash over him-
“Sh- Shit..” *he’s soft growl as he looked up at you, biting his lip*
You; “Are you gonna cum?” *you grin as he immediately nods, leading you to slowly move off him*
“Fucking hell, don’t play games now babygirl- you can’t do this to me.”
-you knew not to play games with him, especially when it came to him reaching his release, but you chose to anyway; as he fucked you from behind, you listened to his shaky groans allowing him to usher his climax closer before finally wriggling away-
*the instant he slipped out of your warmth, he’d let out a frustrated animalist growl* “What- What the fuck?” *the little giggle that’d you’d let slip only made his aggression heighten* “Don’t fucking play with me, little girl..” *bruisingly grips your hips as he pulls you back to place before slamming back into you; fucking you with deep, harsh strokes*
You know what I LOVE about the transformation scene? Adam waits for Belle to come to him. He just stays where he stands, he stays still because he doesn’t want to scare her. She is the one who takes the first step because he still gives her a chance to go away. That’s how much he respects and loves her. But you can see everything in his eyes - how much he wants to finally touch her gently with his real human hands, finally, and not to be worried about hurting Belle. His eyes have some true excitement in them and love and I’m crying I love Adam and Belle
You’d first hooked up with him 56 days ago. It was a party. Another one. One you shouldn’t have gone to, just like the 5 before that. The liquor rang strong in your veins and your body shuddered with sexual frustration as you watched him from across the room. He hadn’t noticed you until you made it impossible for him not to. You got real close to where he was sitting on a random couch and danced as seductively as you could. You knew your plan to get his attention worked when you were in the kitchen pouring another drink and he approached you.
“Y/N, right?” He asks, casually leaning back against the counter, which holds the red cup your eyes are still on. You know it’s him and don’t bother to look up- adding to the game.
a/n: please please request ideas for short series or one shots!! i like to cater to you guys and sometimes you really do come up with some cool ideas!! love always R🌹
as the years went on you’d think bullying and slut shaming was a thing of the past, you were sadly mistaken. in fact it seemed to get worse and more and more creative as the times went on.
i obliviously walked into school head held higher than normal as i spot Betty and Veronica standing near my locker, smiling brightly i approach them a little bounce in my step as I over to them.
i gawk smiling like an idiot, i had my very first date last night with one Reggie Mantle and you think it went rather well. we had a meal at pops and then went to the drive in to watch a movie where we stuffed our faces with junk food and spent the night cuddled up in the back of his truck with some small make out sessions before he dropped me home just before curfew.
I was still grinning, the gang wasn’t very thrilled with the idea of me going they said that he was a stupid football jock that just wanted to get into my pants and last night just proves that they were wrong - for once.
my smile fades as i glance at their concerned expression, i grab my books and close my locker as they glance from their phones to others loitering in the halls before first period before finally glancing at me.
“what?” i laugh glancing the hall to see many eyes on me, i spot Archie his expression the same as the girls.
“okay what the hell happened”
i ask breaking the silence, tapping my fingers against my books growing impatience at their lack of emotions and words.
“will someone please tell me what’s going on!”
i practically yell, Veronica glances at her phone again and i snatch it from her grasp as the red headed boy stops in front of us mumbling a small greeting.
i glance at the phone and see that the photo Reggie had taken off me last night in the drive in cuddle up to him, only he’d modified the picture and photoshopped maple syrup running down my face.
“oh my god” i say my breathe catching in my throat i click on the comments and instantly regret it the words ‘slut’ ‘ugly’ ‘whore’ 'attention seeking’ came up regularly along with comments about my weight and seemed liked everything else 'what a freak’ i give Veronica back her phone and sniffle tears pricking my eyes.
I look up to see Betty and Veronica staring me down
“do it say it!! okay 'i told you so’ okay I get it”
the girls shake their heads scrambling for words to comfort me
“forget it” i whisper pushing past them
“(y/n)” i hear archie call but I ignore him keeping my head down as i rush to class, everyone laughing and sharing comments as I pass.
i round the corner and slam into a body, we bump heads and i cuss grabbing my fallen bag and glances to see Jughead concern etched on his face “I saw the picture are you okay?” i sigh sniffling.
“no” i whisper
he places his hand on my shoulder rubbing it soothingly “i didn’t even do anything juggie- Archie’s and the others are just itching to tell me that they were right- again!”
“it’s okay- we know it’s not true. people believe what they want okay you-” jughead tries to soothe me running his hands up and down my arms.
“jughead” we both look up to see the smug look of Reggie
my blood boils and I shove his chest “i can’t believe you” i spit tearing up at the sight of him.
“what’s wrong baby?” he coos placing his hand tenderly on my shoulder i shudder at his touch and rip my shoulder from his grasp “don’t touch me reggie!” i warn.
he steps forward and jughead stands in front of me protectively, he laughs clapping his hands looking to his boys standing behind him “would you look at that” he howls getting up in jughead face.
“don’t even think about it” i seethe standing in front of jughead pushes at reggies chest.
as much as i wanted to cower behind juggie i knew that Reggie wouldn’t flinch punching him and the last thing i wanted was for my best friend to get punched in the face.
“oh c'mon i wasn’t going to punch your little boyfriend” he teases winking at the both of us “he’s not my boyfriend reggie- he’s my friend and i will not let some jerk bully my friends” i shout “or me for that matter”
he bites his lip pulling me into the wall pinning me down “god your hot when your angry” he whispers huskily into my neck.
“get off!!” i yell looking desperately to jughead for help but Reggies boys were holding him hostage.
“i mean it Reggie get off” i yell everyone decides to gather to watch the show, i thrash trying to get out of his grip but it’s useless.
“oh come one little (y/n) you weren’t this shy with me last night” i squirm “your fat ass wasn’t mad when I had my tongue in your mouth” he smirks and i cringe knowing that he was right.
“MANTLE” i head a loud voice
“archie” i say breathless my eyes begging for help
“let her go now” he orders edging closer
“or what andr-” he didn’t get to finish his sentence before archie ran and shoved Reggie off me and onto the floor.
grabbing me by the waist and pulling me into his arms
“so this is your boyfriend?” he howls “Andrews and (y/l/n) nice, I mean Arch buddy you could do way better she’s not much of a 10” he chuckles the group agreeing with him
“you okay” he whispers i nod “im okay now” i smile at him
“hate to break up the love fest but she’s mine archie, her face might not be all that but boy is her body”
the group whistles as they look me up and down taking in every once of me, i felt disgusted and disappointed that I ever thought Reggie was more than a jock with a good body.
the moment didn’t last as reggie grabbed me and shoved me into jughead, that flicks a switch in archie as he punches the boy in the jaw they wrestle around punching other and i yell for them to stop jughead holding me back.
the teachers are alerted and rush over to separate the boys as soon as Archie’s pulled back i run over to him placing my hands on his cheeks examining his face.
“arch” i say sadly glancing at his bruised eye and split lip.
“Andrews, Mantle my office NOW”
“i can’t believe the fought over you!” Ronnie squeals helping me zip up the back of my cheerleading uniform “swoon!” she finishes skipping over to Betty.
“it wasn’t over me, reggie was being an ass and Archie was just being a good friend” i conclude pulling my hair into a half up half down look adding blue ribbon for school spirt.
“have you spoke to him since it happened?” Betty asks sitting in front of me worry filling her voice.
“no, he had detention at lunch” she nods and i feel guilty “he came to see me after school but i just wanted to be alone. ill see him tonight” i try and smile knowing that Reggie would also be at the game.
Veronica touches up my face with a little makeup before the three of us head to school for the pep rally, my mood lifts a little football games were a ritual for me. i loved cheering with B & V and watching Archie play. Often we managed to drag Jughead and Kevin to the games to watch us all tonight that was one of those nights.
we meet the squad in the change rooms and grab our poms poms getting ready to go out onto the field to get the crowd pumped
“you will speak with him before the game right?” Veronica asks me worried, i nod following the girls out onto the field “promise”
“WOOHOO GO THE BULLDOGS” we cheer running and flipping out onto the field hyping the crowd up i spot jughead in the crowd and i jog over to him when Cheryl isn’t looking
“juggie!” i yell catching his attention “have you seen arch?”
as the words leave my mouth the bulldogs run through the banner Archie leading the pack with a huge black eye. i glance at him guilty, he doesn’t see me searching through the crowd of river vixen.
“ill talk to you later” i tell him he smiles frustrated giving me the 'I know your not okay’ stare.
i jog over to the drinks table where Archie stand his back facing me, i approach place my hand on his shoulder causing him to spin around relief flooding his expression as he realises it’s me.
“oh thank god it thought you weren’t here and i know you love the games and I didn’t want you to not come because of reggie and-” i cut him off placing my hand on his cheek touching the purpleness around his eyes gently.
“oh arch” he’s hand shots up to touch mine “im so sorry” i tell him tearing up
“hey it’s okay-” and just like that he’s swept up onto the field with all the others “arch” i call out trying to get he’s attention.
“hey it’s okay” i feel Betty’s hand on my shoulder “we gotta get ready” i nod turning to face her following her back to the squad getting ready to perform
the game finished miserable as the win was taken away from us in the last 5 minutes, the bulldogs look dull as they exit the field heading to the locker rooms. i sigh and grab my bag walking after the boys i needed to speak with Archie.
“(y/n)” i hear jughead call, choosing to ignore him i walk faster hoping to catch archie before he got into the locker room
“hey!” he yells panting as he catching up to me “ignore me much?” i roll my eyes
“i need to talk with archie okay? now are walking me or not?” i stop glancing at him “fine but yes i am because i swear to god if reggie lays a finger on you” i roll my eyes pulling him behind me
“yeah yeah you’ll kill him”
i push through the crowd of half naked boys as they undress ready to hit the showers, i struggle to find the boy before i spot the familiar red mop of hair. i weave in and out of the crowd before i edge closer to him.
he mustn’t of seen me because he turned and crash into me losing his towel in the process, jughead covers my eyes as Archie scrambles to re adjust his towel “(y/n) jughead what are you doing-”
i put my finger on his lips silencing him “let me talk please” i tell him, gaining the attention of everyone in the locker room.
i realise now why Jughead thought this was a bad idea
“look im sorry about today- your eye you losing the captain spot- you shouldn’t have gotten involved Archie it wasn’t your fight! you warned me and i didn’t listen and now your in trouble with your dad and the principal and you have a busted lip and a black eye all because of that freaking jerk!” i yell tearing up feeling stupid
“I know how much football meant to you, you need it to get into college to study your music and i completely ruined it for you because of a stupid stupid idea to prove a point!”
i run my fingers through my hair a few tears falling down my face, i wipe them as quickly as they fall Archie looks defeated not knowing what to say
“(y/n)-” he steps forward but stops as loud clapping fills the locker room
“what a speech” i growl facing Reggie
“oh go fuck yourself Reggie, haven’t you ruined enough lives today!” he smirks leaning against the locker his towel hanging low off his hips.
he reaches out to brush my hair behind my ear and Archie moves in front of me but i clasp my arm around his bicep “he isn’t worth it” i spit tugging Archie toward me.
“did i tell you how good you looked in that uniform” he licks his lips “that mini skirt, it’s like your begging for someone to kiss you, you look in desperate need let me help you princess”
he attempts to walk over to me but i extend my hand to his chest playing with him
“you know reg your right, i do really need a kiss” i tell him pulling my bottom lip with my teeth and fiddling with the bottom of my skirt fluttering my lashes.
i can see Archie adjusting his towel all the boys seem to be getting rather bothered by my act, Reggie steps forward reaching out to grab my waist but i spin grabbing the back of Archie’s neck and pulling him in for a kiss, jumping up to wrap my legs around his waist.
i deepen the kiss cheers from his team mates fill the air, i break away breathless kissing him once more before Archie sets me back down.
“much better” i sigh glances at a very frustrated Reggie “oh and reg you might wanna take a cold shower for junior” i tug at his towel leaving him completely naked before peeking Archie on the lips.
“see you outside”
he blushes scratching the back of his neck as he watches me walk out with jughead, i bite my lip swinging my hips feeling confident as i wait outside the locker room
“wow” jughead exclaims pacing back and fourth as the rest of our friends spot us and walk over to us, i roll my eyes at him grabbing his jacket to stop the pacing.
“hey” i greet the girls
“Pop’s?” Betty asks
we nod “yeah of course!”
“okay well lets go im sure archie can catch up” Veronica smiles grabbing my arm
“oh ill just wait for him we’ll meet you there!” they narrow their eyes jughead refusing to make eye contact not wanting to be interrogated.
“uh i haven’t spoken to him yet so i can do it on my way over before we met yous” they share glances with each other before nodding at my story.
“okay fine, jughead are you going to escort your ladies” he rolls his eyes pushing off the wall as the girls loop their arms with his and heading toward our favourite hang out.
the boys start exiting the locker room glancing at me as i wait fiddling with my hair and avoiding all eye contact. standing up to reggie wasn’t all that and but he whole makeout session could’ve been prevented but i was feeling epic.
“(y/n)? where are the others?” i glance up at the voice smiling at the red headed boy
i suddenly feel nervous my knees wobbling and my cheeks heating up at my name coming out of his mouth.
“uh they um- they are going to pops- i um told them that we’d yanno met them there” i finishes awkwardly glancing at my feet as I scuff them.
“that is if you want to go- if not i can just walk myself-” he smiles shaking his head at me “no no i wanna come” “good” i smile and with that we set off to Pop’s silence filling the air.
we reach the diner and i stop spoting our friends in the booth next to the window, Archie notices and stops turning to face me “you okay?” i nod
“im sorry about what happened before” i blurt worried that i misread Archie’s feelings toward me. nervousness washes over me and my smile slips from my lips.
“hey hey- no don’t be- it was amazing, your amazing” he finishes grabbing my hips and tugging me toward him.
“if im not mistaking is mr Archie Andrews finally making the first move?” i hint playful playing with his shirt, he laughs playfully placing his soft lips on me and closing the small gap between our bodies.
“you know Reg was right about the whole cheerleader outfit” i raise my eyebrows “hot as hell”
i kiss him back before lacing my hands with his and pulling him into the diner walking over to our friends sliding in next to Jughead as Archie takes the seat next to me siting closer then usual he drapes his arm across the back of the booth touching my shoulder soothingly.
“okay what the hell happened in the locker room?” Veronica asks sipping her milkshake.
“oh they had a huge make out session infringed of reggie it was intense should’ve been there” jughead spills earning a smack up side the head from Archie
i blush covering my face and leaning into Archie, i peer through my fingers and see the two girls staring intensely at m “what!” i complain giggling.
the group fall into a fit of laughter and i smile up at Archie as he tightens his grip around my waist making me feel safe.
Summary: Y/N wakes up in her boyfriend’s arms and the day begins as it always does, sneaking out of his room, until Tony notices lovebites on shy, quiet Y/N’s neck.
Paring/Characters: SteveRogersxReader, Tony, Bruce, Natasha, Wanda, Pietro, Bucky, Sam
Warning: Implied smutt, fluff
Author’s Note: I was rewatching Ultron and this trash sorta happened. And since I’ve been gone for a while, I’ll be posting some other new stuff this week too.
You lazily blinked your eyes, still swimming between sleep and wakefulness with Steve’s strong arms wrapped around you and his toned body pressed against your small form. He groaned quietly, clearly awake but not wanting to be as he held you tighter. You smiled, snuggling further into his chest, letting his warmth and his touch consume you fully.
Hi friends! I spent so much time with this story and love it very much. Hopefully you will too. Songs that inspired this incase you wanna listen to them: -Aint Me by Kygo -Attention by The Weeknd -Comes & Goes by Greg Laswell
Request: Kinda, it’s about H being jealous but the main plot is from me. Warning: Mild curse language and lots of heart break.
Gif isn’t mine and I would probably melt if he were to look at me like this.
A sour taste on his tongue combined with foul thoughts clouding his mind was what let him know that something was very wrong with him.
Harry was aware that his eyes weren’t supposed to stare at the guy standing close to Y/N as if he was murdering him in his head over and over again, even when that was just what was going on. With narrowed eyes he watched the foreign male touch his hand to her back in a far too intimate gesture as he laughed at something she’d said. How dare he do that? Harry sat with his back to the kitchen as he watched her where she stood in the living room. He made a mental note to remind Jeff not to invite this guy again next time he held a small get together at his place. Harry’s jaw tensed. Y/N was his. He was the only male she should give her attention to. The only one who should have his hands on her.
The guy wasn’t anybody Harry knew by name and he was sure to never bother to learn it either. He knew the guy was somebody who’d come around to these kind of parties a couple of times already and every time he was lingering around Harry’s Y/N the moment he had the chance. Harry did not like that one bit. Hot jealousy rushed through his body and with one last sip from his beer he got to his feet.
This needed to stop. He knew that it was him who caused Y/N to be alone and without a boyfriend and he wasn’t oblivious to how upsetting that was to her at times. This was unfair he knew but somehow Harry couldn’t find it in him to feel guilty. Other guys weren’t blind and found Harry gawking at the girl they were trying to chat to more than just intimidating, so with the majority of them one glare sufficed for their hands to pull away and leave Y/N’s smooth skin. Harry felt like his behavior was justified. There was no way he could let his Y/N fall for a man who surely wouldn’t adore her enough. Harry wouldn’t ever allow Y/N to have a male’s hands on her body who couldn’t possibly be as tender with her as she deserved. If this meant Y/N would be alone and have no-one but Harry to love on her then so be it.
He swallowed the lump in his throat and began to walk over to where she was, his mind busy trying to come up with an excuse to steal her away. The unknown guy noticed Harry’s presence before Y/N did and like the rest of the flirtatious males he withdrew his touch from her almost instantly. Harry didn’t say anything, not even when the guy greeted him with a polite smile. Instead he took hold of Y/N’s small hand, giving her fingers a tight squeeze before he began to pull her away from the bloke and towards the kitchen where he knew they would find some peace and quiet. Slowly Harry relaxed. Feeling her warm skin in his palm and being able to just pull her closer and into his side where he could breathe her in… it had a smile pull at his lips.
With quick feet the girl hurried after him.
“What’s wrong?” her kind voice wondered once her friend pulled her into the deserted kitchen and she gasped quietly when his hands forced her up against the counter.
With discomfort written all over her face she pressed her hands against his chest so he would allow her to move away from the cold counter and closer into him.
“Ouch,” she complained quietly, “What the matter, Harry? Are you okay?”
„Who was that?“ Harry’s words were spoken was rough and lower than he intended and both of his hands balled into fists at his sides.
Y/N’s expression softened. “Harry, you can’t tell me that you don’t like Craig either. You haven’t even spoken to him. He’s quite nice, you know?”
„Quite nice?“ Harry repeated, stepping closer to her body, pushing her right back against the counter, „Huh? Was that bloke quite nice to you then?”
„Yes,“ Y/N tried to argue, her hands brushing up against his shoulders in an attempt to calm him, „And I don’t like how you always make me feel as though I need your approval when I talk to a guy.“
Harry swallowed hard. With a sigh he raised his hand and her body relaxed when his palm touched her cheek gently.
„You don’t need my permission. Of course you don’t.” He sighed before shaking his head, a deep frown on his forehead as he tried to figure out what he wanted to say. The words were right there on his tongue. “S’just… I don’t like it, you know? You with another guy.”
“Why?” Y/N wondered, her hands squeezing his shoulders, “I wouldn’t let anybody treat me badly, you know that. There’s neither reason to be protective nor worried.”
At that he rolled his eyes. Oh how wrong she was. As wrong as one could be. “That’s not what’s bothering me. How could anybody mistreat you?”
And he meant it then. How could anybody hurt the girl standing in his arms? She was so utterly kind without ever demanding anything in return. Her heart beat for the people she loved and it melted his own when she looked at him like he was all she could see. That was what he was so afraid of losing. Losing to somebody else.
“Not with you gawking at every move either of us make, no,” Y/N giggled, again not understanding just how deep the meaning behind his words was.
With a sigh rumbling through his chest he stepped closer, his hands finding her wrists and she whined when he forced her arms up with a gentle but swift yank so they would wrap around his neck. A satisfied hum escaped his lips and he closed his eyes. Catching on to what he wanted she wound her fingers through his soft curls and pressed a loving kiss to his cheek when he stepped close enough for them to be embracing tightly. Y/N laughed quietly.
“Harry, love, how much did you have to drink?”
“A beer,” he grumbled truthfully, a frown forming, “Can’t a man get some love from his favorite girl without being accused of anything?”
“Of course he can,” she replied in a whisper, her heart beating so fast she feared it might fly right out of her chest and away into the sky. She tightened her hold around his shoulders and shivered when he moaned at the sensation of her fingers scratching the back of his neck.
Harry pressed his mouth to her neck. “Do we have to go back?”
“To the party? Yes,” she giggled against his jaw, “But we don’t have to stay that much longer.”
This pleased him. “Good. Don’t want you near Craig.”
“Hey, you just said that you agree with me not needing your permission for what I do.”
Harry pulled back and looked at her with arched brows. “So you want to do-”
She groaned and shook her head rapidly with her eyes squeezed shut. “No, I don’t want to do anyone so don’t even start.”
Reluctance gnawed at his insides but he forced himself to step out of her hold anyway. She was right. He needed to let her have space. Y/N gave him a warm smile before leaning up to press another kiss to his skin, this time his cheek.
“Harry, please…” she spoke softly, her lips brushing his cheek, “I really want to finally meet somebody, you know? And maybe Craig is going to ask me out so… don’t scare him away.”
There was nothing he could say. Harry’s heart sank when he watched her step away from him and walk back into the living room where he knew Craig awaited her already. And sure enough when Harry followed, discomfort flooding his body, he saw the male he already disliked greatly smile and hold out a hand for Y/N. Greedily he grabbed her fingers and brought them to his wet lips, a sight that made Harry’s stomach turn. Surely Y/N didn’t like this behavior either, he thought and true enough Y/N’s smile wasn’t all honest. The guy squeezed her shoulder before saying something that made her laugh and for a moment Harry could actually feel himself wanting to punch the guy blue. A feeling Harry was not used to at all. Harry wasn’t a fighter. He was a lover. But oh if Y/N didn’t provoke a side out of him he hadn’t known before. Fuck it. Harry’s feet carried him towards his Y/N before his mind could catch up and in few quick strides he reached her. His hands found her shoulders, squeezing and rubbing them soothingly to get her to turn around and face him.
“Harry?” she wondered, surprise and confusion written all over her features, “What’s wrong now? Are you okay?”
“Sorry, Craig.” Harry breathed the words dedicated to the male standing behind Y/N but his eyes never left her lovely face.
They heard Craig ask what Harry was sorry for but neither of them got to reply before Harry leaned down and connected his mouth with Y/N’s warm lips. It took a lot of bravery not to pull away when he felt the girl gasp and her entire body go rigid. His heart beat so heavily in his chest and his head was dizzy but he refused to stop kissing her and instead continued to move his lips against hers with as much pressure as he dared. It was when he felt the soft touches of her hesitant fingers agains his neck that he knew he’d won. Sure enough she began to return his kiss, moaning and whining against him quietly whilst she allowed her arms to wrap around his neck. Harry could have rejoiced. Y/N’s lips were soft, warm and fitted so perfectly against his own he wondered how he hadn’t kissed her before. Her body cuddled into his as if she were his missing puzzle piece and he liked how well his own arms wrapped around her waist. She gasped when his tongue poked into her mouth and he sighed deeply upon getting to kiss her properly. His hands grasped her neck, the back of her head before letting them drop to her backside where he allowed himself to hold onto her in the least groping way he could. His heart swelled when he heard her giggle softly and he moaned upon feeling her hands move across his shoulders.
Summary: The reader gives birth, baby is home and Tom does a livestream to show the baby to his fans.
Warnings: Swearing cause Tom swears IRL.
Word Count: 1,200+
A/N: Comment if you want more of these kind of imagines. Also my requests are open :) Tyoed this while on pain medication so,hopefully its not fucked up.
Today I just got done filming what I had to do. Now I get to go home, be with my newborn and spend time with my lovely wife. My wife and I got to bring her home after a few days. Ever since we introduced Tessa to her she’s been hooked,Tessa loves laying by the crib now. She absolutely loves being near the baby.
The doctor warned us about introducing Tessa to our daughter. Me of course I knew Tessa couldn’t do any harm. Even my wife knew Tessa wouldn’t even harm her. The moment Tessa met her was the most purest and sweetest moment anyone could witness.
Opening the front door I’m greeted by a happy Tessa. Smiling down at her I rub the top of her head. Pulling out my phone I smile by all the sweet comments on my picture. I posted a picture of me holding my daughter when she was born. Clicking on my story I click the ‘Live’ option. It counts down from three to one after checking the connection. Viewers start racking up once the livestream started.
“Ello guys, today’s been a really good.. I finished filming what I needed to for the new sequence, yes I’m not going to spill details” I laugh at how I recklessly spilled stuff in the past.
Reading the comments I see them mainly asking about the baby. Other’s asking about how my wife was feeling. Setting my phone on a shelf I pull out a mug. Pulling the coffee pot from its warm home I fill the cup up. Smiling at how the coffee was ready for me, she must have started it knowing I’d be home as of now. I’m so blessed.
“My wife is a trooper guys, she was in labor for eighteen hours.. I’ve never heard her swear so much..” the memory causing me to laugh out loud.
“She was like “Fuck you Holland it’s all your fault” and I being a lil shit was like “well if we didn’t fuck we wouldn’t be here” then I got slapped on the head which wasn’t fun” chuckling as I take a sip of my coffee. Reading more people comment about how beautiful our daughter is. One person saying she looks like a baby rather than an alien like some baby’s look like when they’re born.
“Thank you for all the lovely comments! You guys won’t believe how lovely my daughter is..” holding my phone in front of my face as the live stream continues. Watching as the side gets spammed with hearts. Then I see the same question pop up, yet It was on the post I made a few days ago. Drinking more of my coffee as I see the same question pop up again and again.
@tomhollanlover6991: WHAT IS HER NAME?!
“Her name is Nova Anne Holland, she was born two weeks earlier which surprised everyone because I didn’t think I would be home for her birth” I respond making my way up the stairs. The carpet feeling good against my aching feet from today’s interview and photoshoot.
“We named her Nova because our daughter is beautiful like Supernova’s and no we didn’t name her Nova after the Marvel character” I explain with a small laugh only imagining the memes they would try to make. My fans and their damn memes will be the death of me.
Making my way up the stairs I hear Tessa’s tags jingling behind me. Checking my bedroom I don’t see my wife. The only other place she could be is in the nursery. Walking down the hall I see Nova’s galaxy plaque with her name on it hanging from the door. Continuing to talk to my fans as I get closer towards the door.
“Oh my,you’re so beautiful.. so so beautiful” You whisper down at Nova,the rocking chair moving slowly as you cradle her in your arms. Her little finger wraps around yours as she lets out a little yawn. Watching her eyelids droop were falling due to sleep beckoning her.
“Let’s get you off to bed love” her eyes closing slowly as you get up from the rocking chair. Smiling at the sight of her hand still wrapped around your finger.
“Your daddy and I love you so much darling” Pressing a soft kiss to her head before lowering her into her crib. Slowly taking her hand off of your pointer finger,her small hands making your heart melt at the sight. This little human you created was everything to you.
Taking the small multi-colored purple knit blanket off of the railing. Laying it across her body you tuck the sides so she’s in a semi blanket cocoon. She cried the most when she was cold, which we learned quickly. Tom’s voice could be heard through the door. Freezing I look to see Nova stirring in her sleep.
Thomas I swear to God.
“I’ll show Nova to you, she’s probably sleeping by now” The door opens to reveal Tom. He peeks in the room entering slowly. A smile popping up on his face as he sees you. You were dressed lazily and felt like death, yet he still looked at you like you were a million dollars.
“Shhh… she’s sleeping Tom, I don’t want her to wake” you whisper holding a finger to your lips. He walks over towards you giving your cheek a swift kiss.
Turning the camera around he shows Nova to his fans. His free hand reaches down towards Nova. Tom strokes her cheek gently with his finger down to her chin. Nova smiles in her sleep at her father’s touch making you almost die from the cuteness.
His eyes full of adoration while he looked at her. Tom ends the livestream and puts his phone away in his pocket. Leaning against his chest as he held you next to him. The two of you looking at your beautiful child together. Tom kisses you on top of your head making you sigh out in content,life was perfect.
“C’mon I’ll got put the kettle on, if she cries I’ll head back up” You whisper taking Tom’s hand giving it a small tug. You didn’t know how much time you would have with him before he would have to take off again.
“Can we look at her for five more minutes? I feel like she’ll grow up so fast” Tom begs quietly pulling you towards him. Stifling a laugh you nod up at him as he grins.
“She’s got you wrapped around her little finger and she’s only been home for three days” Your eyes examine her sleeping face. Tom rests his left elbow on top of the railing of the crib. Resting his chin on his hand as he looks down at her.
“She’s definitely going to say Daddy first” he sends a cheeky grin your way. She is going to say Mommy first, what is he thinking?
“If she’s smart like her mother she’ll say mommy first” you respond in a challenging tone earning a look from Tom.
“Is this going to be a bet?” Tom asks raising an eyebrow up.
“You’re going to lose” you whisper pushing him slightly. He fakes a painful attack placing his hand on his forehead. Opening the door to the nursery Tom grins pulling you towards his body. He picks you up spinning you in a circle.
“Let’s make a bet,if I win we have another kid and if you win we have another kid” His offer making you laugh a bit as he carries you out of the room. Setting you down he cups your cheek with his hand. The warmth of his skin makes you smile.
“Well I was wanting another kid anyways so we both will win?” you respond brushing a curl out of his face. He lets out a chuckle nodding his head agreeing with you.
“She’s still going to say Daddy first, I just know it… I mean did you see that smile when I touched her cheek? That was brilliant” the excitement in his voice was absolutely adorable.
“Nooooo” you whine wrapping your arms around his neck.
“It’s going to happen darling, just you wait till Nova says Daddy” he whispers as his lips kiss your forehead.
“You cheeky lil shit” a groan escapes your lips as your head falls against his chest. You give up with a sigh of defeat as he laughs holding you close to him. Moments were wonderful like this with Tom, you couldn’t imagine a life without him and Nova.
It’s a familiar itch, the one that urges
him to touch, stroke and caress gently against a pale skin. Lance doesn’t
fight, not anymore, he allows himself to let go and sigh pleased when his
fingers find Keith’s mop of black hair and he stats running them through it,
carefully and gently in hopes of not waking up the sleeping teen on him.
It’s sight that he thinks he will never get
used to and he’s more than okay with that, because he doesn’t think he will
ever get tired of his heart fluttering excitedly as he catches Keith’s soft
round cheeks covered in a faint blush with a ghost smile lingering on the
corner of his lips.
He hums quietly under his breath, an old
song that his mama used to sing to him before bed, sometimes right after a
nightmare, and he smiles fondly when Keith’s form snuggles closer to his chest,
a soft sigh leaving his mouth.
It makes him chuckle, untangling himself
from his boyfriend’s grip carefully before he slips out and leaves the room.
There’s a rumble inside him that tells him that food is necessary and when most
of the time he would ignore it, something tells him that it’s heavily important
at the moment.
He comes back not even fifteen minutes
later with an extra plate of food goo and the new sight that greets him is accompanied
with a sleepy smile from Keith and a held up hand towards him.
“Hey there,” Keith whispers, low and still
heavy with sleep, hand still reaching for Lance, “I missed you.”
Lance shakes his head in amusement before
he drops the plate on the drawer next to the door. “I was only gone for like,
ten minutes, babe.”
Keith’s seems to ignore him, because he
only repeats himself. “I missed you.”
Lance frowns. “Keith –“
“I miss you.” Keith whispers, features
changing, smile dropping and eyes wide.
“Babe.” Lance says in concern, taking a
step forward, hand reaching to hold Keith’s but after two steps, the hand is
nowhere closer to his own and Lance’s breath hitches, “Keith –“
“Lance,” Keith mumbles, sad and desperate, “Lance,
please come back.”
“I’m – I’m trying –“
“I miss you.”
He gasps, the air around him not enough to
fill in his lungs and something gets stuck in his throat as he tries to take a
deep breath. The lump makes it hard to swallow, sudden and sharp, but Lance
does his best to slow down his breathing, mouth open in hopes to ease it.
He opens his eyes, blinking owlishly. It
takes him a few ticks before his eyes are clear, adjusting to the sudden
darkness that surrounds him, but he can easily recognize the dark purple glow
on the edge of his vision.
The floor of his cell is as dirty as the
day he got locked up, half eaten meals and broken pieces of his armor being the
only thing decorating the small space. How long as it been since he got
captured? Hours? Days? Months?
How long until his team comes?
How long until he realizes and accepts they
He takes a deep breath, ignoring the painful
tug in his stomach when he tries to sit up and then he’s leaning against the
wall, staring that the purple glow on the right corner of the cell silently and
his insides twist unpleasantly when it doesn’t resemble the kind of purple he
aches to see. The kind of purple that only comes at dusk back on earth or the
one that will always appear in Keith’s eyes when the blue glow of the Castle’s
light will hit them just right.
It doesn’t resemble Keith’s dilated pupils
when Lance would be caressing his cheek lovingly before dropping a kiss against
his lips, breathing in the small gasp of surprise that would escape the teen.
It doesn’t resemble anything from home and
Lance doesn’t even try to hide his tears.
The itch comes back, but there’s nothing
for him to reach out anymore.
“Max?” David asked, perplexed at seeing the young boy. Max wasn’t looking at him, his head was casted downwards as he fidgeted with his back pack straps.
“Hey David.” He said, his voice was strained, he was shaking too. It was a big contrast to the rebelious and sacrastic young boy he had gotten to know each summer he spent at Camp Campbell.
He stepped aside, letting the boy enter the little forest shack, when David wasn’t consuling the camp he was working as the forest ranger. His private shack was located not that far from the camp, a bit closer to the town, he brifely remembered telling Max about it a long time ago, but he didn’t expect the boy to have payed attention if he was being honest.
Max sat down on one of the chairs at the wodden table in David’s kitchen space, he didn’t say anything as he held his bag close, the head of his teddy bear was poking out of it. David glanced at the scene, concern starting to spread. He knew this behavior, the trembling, avoiding eye contact, staying quiet.
He knew it way too well.
Oh god, how didn’t he notice anything before?
He went to the kitchen pantry, taking out a cup for the young boy to use. “Apple juice?” He asked, his word were cutting through the thick atmosphere like a knife. Max doesn’t answer.
David sighs, he purs a cup anyways and brought it over to the table. “Max.” He said in a gentle tone, “Can I see your face please?”
the boy tensed up, “Max please.” David said, gently reaching for the boy’s arms. Max let him, still trembling but not resisting.
David carefully took the backpack, placing it on the ground. What he saw on Max’s face was what he already suspected he would see. There was dried blood on his chin trailing down from his nose which looked bruised, there was also a nasty bruise on his eye. Despite knowing what was probably awaiting him David still felt somewhat shocked seeing the boy’s face in such a condition, “Fucking hell.” He breated out without really meaning to, he really didn’t have the nerves to keep his no cursing rule alive right now.
Max flinched, David met his eyes, the one that wasn’t bruised was blood shot and puffy, like he’s been crying for a very long time. God, what did these people do to him?
David gently reached for his face, Max flinched again, causing the man to pause. “Can I?” He asked, waiting for the boy to give him permission. Max nodded, still tense, still trembling as David gently touched around his nose, checking how bad the damage was. “You want to tell me who did this?” He asked, the nose didn’t feel broken, which was good he supposed.
There was silence, David sighs again as he lowered his hand from the young boy’s face, he reached for Max’s trembling little hands and gave them a firm squeeze.
“Listen,” he started, trying to meet the other’s eyes again, “When I was your age…my step dad used to hit me.”
That caused the boy to stare at him, David could understand why, it wasn’t often that he opened up and actually admitted how awful his childhood really was.
“Back then, I felt helpless. I didn’t feel like I could tell anybody, because I thought it wasn’t really abuse, because he was my father so…he had to love me, right? And…. because I didn’t think anybody really cares. But…I was wrong. There are people who care Max. I care.”
“He’s been drinking….again.” Max’s voice was small, scared, and David had a hard time to supress the boiling hatred he felt.
“He had said he would be better….promised to never do it again….and he did get better for a bit, he just ignored me, but he then did it again and I just…I didn’t know where else I could go.” His sentences came out in broken chunks, he was trying not to cry, David could tell.
“What about your mother?”
“I don’t know…she was passed out on the floor with a bottle of whisky….again.”
David heared enough. “Okay, first lets get your face cleaned up. I will get you some ice for that eye and the nose. We’ll go to the police afterwards.” He declared, rubbing gently circles into Max’s palm.
Max tensed up at the word police, David could understand why, Max was a smart kid, he probably knew just as well as David that the child protective service was anything but perfect.
“I promise you Max.” He said as he gently brushed over the boy’s head, “I will never let anybody hurt you again.” Max’s small hand was gipping his as if his life was depending on it and David could tell, this was the start of something big, for both of them.
description: in which he can’t find the right words to say, so you ask him to show you instead
notes: this is vaguely based off of this song. i don’t normally write song based imagines, and the song wasn’t requested, but it fit well with the plot of this.
He’d always thought he was good with words.
He was eloquent in his speech, he enjoyed deep conversation, and he had a knack for capturing everyone’s attention, whether he was talking about some profound ordeal, or simply telling a story from his childhood. It just came natural to him.
But then you came along, burning bright as a setting sun, crashing into him like a rolling wave, and suddenly, Bill found himself at a loss for words.
EXO Reaction: Their S/O is being cuddly all the time.
Request: GAHH! I love your reactions so muchhhh, may I have a reaction for EXO? As in they react to you being cuddly all the time? Thank you have a good day, don’t stress, and be healthy ^^
A/N: Thank you so much cutie pie, sorry this took so long (revision and exams are a pain in the bum) but this has been an absolute pleasure to write. I hope this was worth the wait, so so so sorry you had to wait!!
I can’t see Xiumin being a huge fan of PDA but when you two were alone he’d love how cuddly you were and the way you’d rest your head on his shoulder and stare at him with big doe eyes. Most of all, he’d love how you respected his boundaries in public too, knowing he’d only hold your hand at most.
Luhan would usually be cuddly himself so to have a S/O who not only reciprocates his cuddles but actively seeks them would be a good match for Lu. Overall his favourite would be when he could wrap you up in his arms with an oversized hoodie on and squidge your precious little cheeks.
Kris would love your cuddly and affectionate nature as there wasn’t often a time where his hands weren’t on you in some way. Although he loved your cuddles, he would often be the one to initiate it into more and an intimate kiss wouldn’t be out of the ordinary.
Suho would appreciate your cuddles more than anyone after a long and stressful day of looking after his kids. In your arms he felt more supported and it was like his stress melted off. Sometimes if he was really exhausted he’d even ask you for a massage, appreciating how your touch seemed to lift his worries.
Yixing would be a big fan of bedtime cuddles and would love nothing more than waking up to the birds singing, the sun peaking through the blinds and feeling you wrapped in his arms, your face totally at peace and your eyelashes fluttering gently. That was his all time favourite where there was no doubt he was in love with you.
As if you couldn’t have him wrapped around your little finger anymore, whenever you would shuffle over to him with that ‘I want cuddles’ look on your face I swear he would melt into the sweetest and most caring boyfriend, taking your hand and kissing your forehead before pulling you toward him gently.
In the rare moments of peace in your manic relationship shared between his idol life and your constant pranks and jokes, Chen would adore cuddling you, it was a special time that reminded him that through all the jokes and teasing he was utterly besotted with you and that while you were his best friend, you were also the love of his life.
I think this precious tree would be the biggest cuddler, his height giving him the perfect cuddle advantage for anyone. It didn’t matter where or when, if you wanted cuddles he would always be more than happy to give them, his head resting on yours and his hands running up and down your arms soothingly.
When you tried to initiate PDA he would never be one to shy away from it. He’d blush a ton, be a tad embarassed but low key he would be super pleased that you were so proud to be his S/O. That little bit of contact would mean a lot to him although he’d never say it, he’d also appreciate that you never went too far.
I imagine Tao to usually be very passionate so when you just wanted to cuddle for him it would be a welcome change of pace. Overall he wasn’t too fussy, as long as he could show his affection in some way he was more than happy to, but he did love your cuddly nature for sure.
Kai would be a massive fan of PDA, whether it be holding your hand, having his arm around your shoulder or a hand on your waist, he would have to have you close to him at all times and so the fact you appreciated it and loved the physical contact would make him feel all the better.
He’d love it, but love it 1000x more when it was in front of the members. It made him feel super manly to have such an affectionate S/O and made it all the more clear that you only had eyes for him, something he really appreciated surrounded by his hyungs.
bts’ reaction to you being blindfolded and handcuffed.
-requested by anon
Your S/O other has been working from early in the morning to late at night. The sexual tension has been lingering around you all day. You put on your sexiest set of lingerie. Blindfolded and handcuffed to the bed you patiently waited for your lover.
Yoongi Yoongi had been working on their new album all day and couldn’t wait to snuggle up in bed. He would slowly open the door, trying to be as quiet as possible expecting you to be asleep. “Daddy?? Is that you?” He turned on the light and cursed at the sight of you.
“Holy shit.. Jagi.. You look so good. I’m gonna make you feel like a princess tonight.”
Namjoon Namjoon wouldnt be suprised to see you handcuffed and blindfolded because he was probably the one who bought all those props for you. He’d simply say. “Jagiya, have you been waiting for me?” All it took for him was a simple nod. Not even 2 seconds later you’d feel the vibration of a toy being pressed against your clothed clit.
Seokjin He would be standing in awe. You were starting to think he wasn’t even in the same room due to the immense silence but soon you felt 2 hands wrapping around your waist and his boner poking against your vagina and you knew it was going to be one hell of a night.
“Baby, you’re going to feel so good tonight”
Jimin You would hear the bedroom door being closed and the light being flicked on. You spread your legs embracing yourself for whatever was going to happen. You felt Jimin hovering above you. His deep soft voice whispering in your ear sent goosebumps down your body.
“Hmm.. baby. Have you been waiting for my cock all day? You’re gonna want to see my while I pound into you.”
Taehyung He would gently lay down next you on his side. He would start kissing your neck, leaving hickeys and love bites everywhere. He would slowly and teasingly take of your blindfold. Being greeted by his eyes full of lust his hand would move down from your breasts to your vagina. He’d slide his hand down your panties and start fingering you passionately.
Jungkook Jungkook would already be expecting sex as soon as he walked into the room because of the sexy nude photos you had been sending him all day, including videos of you touching yourself moaning out his name and other various petnames.
“Got all dressed up and kinky for me? You wont be able to last tied up, you can’t keep your hands of me.”
Hoseok Hoseok would get all dominant and kinky. You’d hear him unbuckle his belt and he’d take of your lingerie. Untying you and ripping of your blindfold pulling you from the bed and placing you on your knees.
“Open your mouth baby girl, I want you to suck on daddy’s cock.”