i was like shit what did i just put in my mouth

His Warmth (M)

Word Count: 3532
Member: Jimin x Reader
Genre: Fluff & Smut
Warnings: Cum-play, Biting, Lots of cute bc I’m in love with Jimin

It’s been two months since your boyfriend went on tour and you haven’t been able to see him, so when you unexpectedly wake up to him in your bed you just can’t seem to keep your hands to yourself.

c.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Fav long fics?!

Since I don’t know exactly what long fics are to you, here’s a list of my fave 50k+ fics in no particular order :)

Kaleidoscope by Vendelin [E, 54k]

Stiles spends a year before college working at the all-night coffee shop in town. It’s nice and quiet, until one dark and brooding Derek starts coming in every morning, ordering coffee so strong that it should not be fit for human consumption. Ever. Stiles tries not to be affected by the mystery guy, but it’s not like anything else happens around here, so really, what did you expect? And when he’s already in too deep, he realises he might even be in way over his head…

Safety in Silence by Survivah [M, 66k]

It’s perfectly understandable. Even Derek wouldn’t want to be Derek’s soulmate.

Easy Trouble by Survivah [M, 55k]

Derek+Stiles+fairies = love spell

“Make love to me,” Derek demands.

What.

The Boy and the Beast by Dira Sudis (dsudis) [M, 116k]

In which events in Beacon Hills go rather differently from the start, and a Beauty and the Beast (ish) story ensues. (Scott is not a teacup and no one sings about their feelings.)  

Stand Fast in Your Enchantments by DevilDoll, Rahciach [E, 76k]

“Stiles knew damn well what a pissed-off wolf sounded like, and every hair on the back of his neck was telling him that somewhere in this room was a very pissed-off werewolf.” An AU in which Derek is feral, Stiles is magical, and they eat a lot of fast food.

Keep reading

Don’t Look Back (ACOTAR AU) - Part 18

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17

NSFWWWWWW


“What did you just say?” she whispered, her eyes were wide and her mouth slightly open in awe and Rhys himself must have frozen in time because he was unable to move, to breathe, to even think.

He sat up quickly, unable to bear being so close. The duvet fell to his waist and he felt her sit up beside him. Somehow, somehow his mind caught up with his mouth. “I-I said I love you. Well, it was really: fuck, I’m so in love with you but semantics…”

 She exhaled shakily and Rhys couldn’t decipher what that even meant - he was analysing every one of her blinks, her breaths, even the strands on her face to find out any information on how she felt but he came up with empty conclusions. The air between them was still and Rhys didn’t think he could take counting her breaths any longer. “I’ve loved you for a while now,” he said, the words pouring out of him like water out of a tap. “Three years almost.” His voice was croaky and he watched as she blinked twice. “Please say something.”

Keep reading

3

PAPER MAGAZINE : Beautiful People ~ Cardi B is Still Real


Known for her candid social media presence and outspoken, magnetic demeanor, Bronx-born rapper Cardi B rose to stratospheric heights this year on the wave of her summer anthem “Bodak Yellow.” Despite her whirlwind success, Cardi has kept it real, speaking out about police brutality, honoring Colin Kaepernick at the VMAs and continuing to share her life and feelings unapologetically with her fans. From stripper to BET-nominated artist, this “regular, degular schmegular” girl from the Bronx reminds us that being beautiful also means staying true to yourself.

Keep reading

Friends With Benefits: Bill Skarsgard... Chapter 5

Originally posted by theunusualcaseofv

Originally posted by heartsnmagic

A few weeks had passed since the almost incident at Bill’s house and neither of us had mentioned it, it was like it had been completely forgotten about or both of us were just too nervous to bring it up.

Work had been pretty hectic but we both still made time for each other, infact there wasn’t a night that we weren’t together. We were still being intimate with each other, that definitely hadn’t stopped.

The sly encounters in Bill’s trailer, or me waking up to him beneath my sheets, working magic with his mouth. Life was better than ever and I didn’t regret this deal one bit, even if the almost kiss was playing on my mind.

I just couldn’t shake off the feeling that it was more than just a friendly kiss, or the type we share when Bill has me on his kitchen counter and his literally pounding away for dear life.

We were currently out for dinner, savouring our only day off of the week. Bill had driven out to Beverly Hills and made reservations at a nice restaurant, nothing fancy though, neither of us liked anything like that.

We had a cosy little table at the back of the restaurant, a booth with red leather seats that were an absolute dream to sit on.

“Kevin says we only have one more scene to touch on and then it’s a wrap.” Bill grinned, glancing at me over his menu.

“Yeah, he mentioned it to me. I can’t lie, I’m pretty excited to leave him behind.” I chuckled, breathing a sigh of relief at having some time off before someone else was asking me to work on their set.

“Time seems to be flying by, November’s coming.” Bill motioned to the scenery outside, there were a few trees that were shedding their orange leaves and the sky was getting darker at the year progressed before us.

“You mean, Christmas is coming. Speaking of Christmas, you heading to Sweden this year?” I asked, the question had been playing on my mind for a few days now.

“Nope.” He smiled, causing me to raise an eyebrow.

“Bill.. all your family is over there. You need to spend Christmas with them, it’s not right.”

“Yeah, and your here. I’m not leaving you alone at Christmas, it’s not like your waste of space family are gonna be knocking at the door bearing gifts galore. And correction, Alexander and Gustaf are over here for Christmas.” He retorted, closing his menu and causing me to let out a sigh.

I knew I wasn’t going to talk him out of staying and truthfully, I wanted him here. Last year he was in Sweden for four days over Christmas and it absolutely sucked not seeing him, even though he flew back over on boxing day and surprised me with festive flowers and a beautiful necklace from Tiffanys.

I was just about to thank him for his generosity and kindness when the waiter came over to take our orders.

“What can I get for you both?” He asked, his accent thick and I guessed he was probably from Italy.

“Just the pasta arrabiata, please.” I replied, handing him my menu as Bill did the same.

“And for you, sir?”

“I’ll have the same, thank you.”

The waiter left us alone in silence, informing us there would be a short wait for our food.

“So… wanna sneak out back?” Bill suggested, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You’ve got no chance.” I retorted, taking a sip of water that had been filled when we were seated.

“It was worth a try, maybe later.” He shrugged, causing me to roll my eyes.

“Do you ever regret starting this?” I blurted out, motioning between us.

“Not at all, it’s been great fun and I think it’s actually made us closer, weirdly enough.”

“I guess you’re right.” I smiled, poking at his hand.

Bill had a quick reaction and grabbed my hand in return and I admit it startled me for a moment, it also confused me when he didn’t let my hand go, he merely laced our fingers together like it was nothing.

It didn’t feel wrong at all, I loved the feeling of his skin against mine, it was my absolute favourite when we were being intimate.

His skin was incredibly soft, so perfect and so comforting.

Everything about Bill was comforting to me including his smell, the sound of his voice and even the small scar that lay on his cheek.

It was no secret that my life had been a shit storm these last few years, but becoming best friends with Bill had made me forget all that, he’d given me a purpose, a reason to strive.

I could feel his gaze on me and I watched his jaw tense, almost like he was about to say something but withheld from doing so.

I frowned, but once again as I was about to question him, the waiter delivered our food to the table, making us pull our hands back from each other.

Bill thanked the waiter and we both began eating, I picked at the food on my plate, suddenly finding myself without an appetite.

I pushed the food around my plate, not particularly aware of my surrounding anymore, only my thoughts.

“You okay?” He asked, finishing a bite of his pasta.

“Yeah, just tired.” I smiled weakly, putting my fork down, the thought of eating made me slightly nauseous with everything that was swirling around in my head.

“Mmm…” Bill’s eyes narrowed and I should have known better than to lie, he knew me better than I knew myself.

“Don’t start.” I begged, knowing that I was about to be the recipient of his twenty questions.

“Fine… for now.” He replied, taking one last bite of his food and wiping his mouth.

He didn’t mention anything more on the matter, even after we’d left the restaurant and were back in his car.

“Can I take you somewhere? I’m not ready for the night to be over.” He wondered, and I just shrugged.

“Sure, but where?” I questioned in return, only to be met with a devious smile.

“You’ll see.” was all he replied as he started the engine, turning out of the parking space he was in.

The journey was filled with the sound of the stereo. we only made small conversation.

We passed a few destinations, but not one of them was where he stopped.

Around half an hour later we were descending up a steep road, with tall oak trees on either side.

“Where are we?” I questioned, slightly anxious as to where he was taking me as it had gotten dark within the time of our journey.

“You’ll see.” He repeated, shooting me a look.

I rolled my eyes and slumped back into my seat, fiddling with the seat belt.

I was intensely distracted by looking into my lap and messing with the material of the seat belt, that I didn’t even notice we’d stopped moving and that Bill had pulled up.

I frowned at him before he nodded his head to the direction of the windscreen and I turned to face out of the glass.

What met my eyes astounded me, it was incredible.

We were parked ontop of a tall hilltop, staring out over the city, where lights illuminated the sky and revealed the stars to us.

I couldn’t help but basically throw my seat belt off and jump out of the car, closing the door behind me with a dull thud.

I walked round the front of the car and looked up, searching the stars for an answer to my problems.

“Sit.” Bill ordered from where he’d followed me out of the vehicle and perched onto his bonnet, patting the space next to me.

I complied and took a seat, leaning into his side.

We sat in silence for awhile, just taking it all in.

I didn’t want to ask how he knew this place  because I already had a pretty good idea and I had no interest in thinking about any other girls he’d bought here, but I knew this time with myself held a different purpose.

The view from the hilltop was incredible, the stars were bright and the dark sky was clear.

I was in awe but I still couldn’t focus on the scenery fully, I was too invested in my thoughts.

“You seem distracted.” Bill commented, hopping down from the bonnet, pushing my legs apart and standing between them with his hands on my waist.

I let out a sharp laugh and it was followed by a sigh, I placed my hands over his.

I knew he was searching me for answers but part of me wanted to withhold my feelings, like they were my darkest secrets.

“I’ve got alot on my mind, I guess.” I managed to reply, meeting his curious stare.

“Like what?”

I shook my head and let out a deep breath.

“This thing we have going on…” I murmured, motioning between us.

“What about it?” He pressed, frowning.

“It just doesn’t feel like friends with benefits anymore, it feels like friends with feelings.” I confessed and I heard him take an intake of air before he answered me.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“It’s an unplanned thing, Bill. When we started this I told you it’d get weird, and it has. That night at your place, when were having pizza… it was confusing.”

“Mya, are you trying to tell me that you have feelings for me?” He inquired, not letting his eyes leave mine.

There was a pause.

“I think so.” I finally admitted, not only to Bill, but to myself too.

“You need to stop being so afraid of your feelings, you might shock yourself if you gave them a chance.”

“It’s not that simple, Bill. I told you that I couldn’t lose you, you’re practically my whole world and I’m not ready to let go of that. It’s fucking terrifying to me, the thought of waking up everyday without you lying next to me or without a stupid message you’ve sent me.” I asserted, dropping my hands from his and into my lap, pulling on the edge of my smock dress that lay on top of my tights.

“And what if you didn’t have to lose me? What if in fact you had all of me… and I had all of you? What if I completely fancied the pants off you and wanted you to be mine?” He questioned, taking my breath away and make my brow furrow.

I was speechless, he’d left me without any words.

His hands tightened on my waist and he pulled me closer to him and I couldn’t help but drink in his warmth, my biker jacket not quite shielding me from the cold breeze.

“You know, I think your car is abit expensive to be sat on and not in.” I spoke,  motioning to the black vehicle beneath me.

“Your car cost way more than mine, and don’t change the subject.” He demanded, referring to my Audi Q3.

“Bill… I really can’t talk about this now, it’s too difficult and to be quite frank, it messes with my head.” I professed.

Bill let out a groan.

“Fine, if that’s what you want then I won’t push it. But I promise you that I won’t drop this, we’ll have to talk about it sooner or later.” He shrugged, moving his hands under my thighs and lifting me up, causing me to let out a squeal.

I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist also hooking my arms around his neck, feeling the back of his hair with my fingers.

“Please don’t keep anything from me again.” He begged, looking up at me with an expression that almost broke my heart.

“I promise, and I swear we’ll talk about things soon, just not yet.” I replied, resting my forehead against his.

A heap of truth had been spilled out into the night and I was scared shitless for when the time came that we had to talk about it.

I was still processing the fact that Bill had basically just admitted that he liked me and it seemed like I never was going to believe it.

That night, once we’d gotten back to Bill’s place after our detour to the top of the hill, we laid in bed together in only our underwear.

We were facing each other, lay on our sides. One of Bill’s hands was lay on my thigh under the sheets and my head rested on his other arm that was under me.

I stroked at his smooth jaw, feeling it clench underneath my touch.

“I meant everything I said to you tonight.” He said softly, tickling the skin on my thighs, trailing down to the back of my knee where he pulled me closer, like he couldn’t get enough.

I nodded and bit my lip, running two fingers over his perfect pout.

“I believe you.”


                                    xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

- Soooooooo….. whatcha think? 

When You Touch Me || Jungkook x Reader || 02

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Slight Smut

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Abuse, Swearing, Attempted Rape, Bullying, Blood, Violence, Alcohol 

Description: With Jungkook now finding out about your bruises he’s determined to keep you safe, even if it means you live with him.

A/N: I got a great amount of support from you guys on the first chapter so thank you very much and I hope you enjoy this one as much as you did the first! <3

MAJOR WARNINGS! - ATTEMPTED RAPE! PLEASE DO NOT READ IF EASILY UPSET!

masterlist | prev | next

recap…

(Y/N),” Jungkook’s voice echoes through the room, sending shivers down your spine.

“Jeon, What is it?” you asked.

“I’ve grown impatient with your resistance. I’ve tried all day and you’ve brushed me off your shoulder like I’m dust. I’m not standing for it,” Jungkook growled lowly.

“Just because you can’t take no for an answer, doesn’t mean you can force me to do it,” you snapped back. “Now leave me alone, I have to get home.” Making your way passed him he suddenly grabbed a hold of your upper arm, causing you to wince and for his eyes to widen.

Without hesitation, he pulled your sleeve up to see dozens of bruises covering your arms. You pulled away, holding onto your wrist as if you were protecting it.

“What happened?”

 

What happened?” Jungkook’s patience with your silence was wearing thin, so much so that he grabbed a hold of your arms while making sure he didn’t hurt you and pushed you against the wall, which made you wince, once again.

“On your back too… Let me see.”

If you hadn’t stopped breathing before, you certainly were now. Just the thought of stripping in front of someone let alone Jungkook (who was the biggest fuck boy in the school) was unsettling.

‘How could I of been so careless,’ you scolded yourself internally.

Finally building up enough courage, you spoke.

“N-No.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow.

“No?”

“You heard me didn’t you?” you snapped while glaring at the tall brunette.

Jungkook stepped dangerously close to you, further trapping you between him and the wall.

“I’ve got the boys outside, so there’s nowhere to go. Unless you want them to come in and you have to strip in front of all of us?” Jungkook couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of you awkwardly taking your clothes off in front of all of them, and when he noticed the pink tint on your cheeks.

“Fine,” you huffed.

While avoiding eye contact with Jungkook you slowly peeled off your t-shirt and close your eyes waiting for him to say something.

You flinched at the sudden skin contact when Jungkook’s large hand was pressed gently up against your stomach.

“How could you endure this much pain all the time. Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

You scoffed.

“No one at this school gives a crap. I wouldn’t come here if it wasn’t for…” you stopped short, debating whether or not to tell Jungkook about your dad. You inhaled deeply.

“When I was little, my mum passed away. And ever since then my dad…” you couldn’t bring yourself to say anymore as your burst into tears.

Jungkook didn’t know what to do. He had never been in this kind of situation before so he did the first thing that came to his thoughts. Hug you.

You were taken by surprise at his sudden actions, not knowing whether or not to hug him back.

“I’m sorry.”

Another surprise. The moment you were about to speak the door opened to reveal the others who were staring at you wide-eyed.

“C’mon guys, let’s go,” Jungkook ordered. He stood up and took off his shirt, revealing his sun-kissed and toned body. Instantly you looked away, embarrassed for staring too long.

“Put it on…” he spoke firmly. You quickly obeyed, carefully putting on the oversized black shirt. After doing so, you felt Jungkook’s arms slide underneath you and lifted you up making sure not to hurt you.

“We’re taking her back to our place.”

You tensed.

“N-No! That’s not necessary…” you stuttered.

“(Y/N). There’s no way I’m letting you go back to that hell hole.” Jungkook’s voice was firm but calming at the same time.

“But my stuff…” you mumbled. “I need to get my mums necklace.”

“Fine. But I’m coming with you.”

“No. Please. You can wait outside but people don’t go in,” you pleaded.

“Jungkook eyed you suspiciously but slowly nodded.

“Alright, but if something happens I’m barging through the door.” With that Jungkook exited the room with you still in his arms.

“(Y/N)’s suffered so much and no one even realised,” Taehyung sighed.

“I don’t understand why Jungkooks acting like this, he doesn’t normally care,” Seokjin mumbled in confusion.

“When he was younger, he had a little sister who was abused by their step-mum. This kind of thing gets to him,” Jimin explained while fidgeting with the silver rings on his small fingers.

“Wonder why he didn’t tell us,” Namjoon muttered.

“It’s obvious that the memory is too painful to bring up,” Yoongi causally answered.

“But why does Jimin only know?” Hoseok asked.

“I witnessed it. I was making my way to his house to show him the new basketball I got so we could play. As I passed the window I noticed Jungkook pleading to his step-mum. she simply smiled at him and gently pushed him aside so she was face to face with his sister. His step-mum didn’t even hesitate to strike her down, which caused her to cry out in pain.”

“That’s horrible,” Seokjin whispered in shock.

“It was clear he was the favourite in the family His step-mum had severally injured his little sister that she passed away that very night in her sleep,” Jimin’s eyes began to water at the thought of his friends’ pain.

“What was her name?” Namjoon asked.

“Eun-Ji. She was six, he was nine. He just didn’t know what to do. He regrets not being b=able to do anything back then, so it’s clear that he wants to protect (Y/N),” Jimin explained.

“C’mon we better catch up with them,” Yoongi interrupted as they all made their way out the door.




You gulped as you stood in front of your dad’s house, the boys waiting behind you.

“Did your dad do that?” Hoseok asked as he gestured to the large crack in your bedroom window.

You nodded. “Yes.”

“Shit,” Taehyung muttered.

After a couple of deep breaths, you began to walk to the door. Jungkook went to grab you when Yoongi snatched his wrist.

“You said you wouldn’t,” Yoongi warned.

Jungkook relaxed slightly but tensed once again when he noticed your disappearance.




Your breaths quickened with each step you took as you made your way down the narrow corridor.

“Oh (Y/N),” your dad creepily smiled causing you to freeze, breathes becoming heavier.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he sarcastically spat as he forcefully grabbed a hold of your chin and pushed you against the murky blue wall. He leaned in and inhaled the sweet scent of your hair. When he exhaled deeply, he laughed sadistically.

“You look just like your mother. Maybe you could be of some use to me,” he smirked as he forcefully pulled down your trousers followed by his.

“Dad!” you choked out tears falling down your face.

“Shut up! You’re mine and I’ll do whatever I want to you!” he yelled as he continued to strip you and himself of your clothing. Firmly he pushed your legs open and positioned himself in front of your entrance.

“DAD STOP IT!” you screamed. “JUNGKOOK!”

Within a millisecond your door had been kicked down causing both you and your dad to turn around, to see Jungkook.

“Get your filthy hands off her you bastard!” Jungkook roared.

“Just as your dad opened his mouth, Jungkook sprinted towards him, his fist colliding with your dad’s cheek, knocking him out cold.

You screamed at everything unfolding in front of you. Jungkook came into your view eyes filled with concern as he placed both of his hands gently against your tear-stained cheeks.

“You’re okay?” He didn’t hurt you did he?”

Shaking your head, Jungkook sighed in relief and stood up. Carefully he closed your legs and passed you your black underwear.

“Come on, let’s get that necklace of yours,” Jungkook smiled reassuringly as he once again lifted you up and carried you to your bedroom.

“Right. Where is it?” Jungkook questioned.

“Under my bed,” you replied, shaking violently from fear and being cold.

With Jungkook instantly taking notice to your shivering, he grabbed the nearest blanket and wrapped it around your shoulders.

“I’ve got your necklace. Let’s get going now.” With that Jungkook slid his arms underneath your small body and lifted you into the air with ease. Making his way outside he noticed the others staring at them worriedly.

“Is she okay?” Jimin asked.

“he almost raped her. Sick bastard,” Jungkook spat in disgust.

“Let’s get her back to the house. She looks freezing, and I’ll make some nice, hot soup!” Seokjin smiled.

As you all walked your eyes began to droop.

“I don’t understand…” you mumbled.

Jungkook gave you a questioning look.

“Understand what?”

“How you’re so warm, even without a shirt,” you muttered as you fell into a deep sleep.

Jungkook smiled, a small chuckle leaving his lips.

“And I said…” Jungkook shushed Taehyung

“She’s fallen asleep.

“She’s almost been raped twice today, plus she was most likely, hit brutally the night before,” Namjoon explained.

“Yeah she deserves to rest,” Hoseok nodded.

“Right, I’ll start the soup” Seokjin cheered as he opened the door to the house and walked inside followed by the others.

“Jungkook get her to bed, and wake her up when the soup is ready,” Taehyung ordered.

The maknae nodded and carried your sleeping form to his room, where he gently laid you down on the white silk sheets. Just as he was about to leave he felt your hand grab his own.

“Please stay,” you mumbled still half asleep. Jungkook sighed quietly but smiled.

Carefully he climbed into his bed and wrapped his arm around your waist gently.

“Thank you…”

Jungkook laid next to you, staring at your delicate and peaceful featured as you slept.

“I never realised how beautiful you are,” Jungkook hummed quietly as he pressed his forehead against yours.

He smiled and closed his eyes, sleep taking over him as he laid beside you, holding you protectively.


to be continued…

You're mine, Omega (Chapter Three)

Jensen x Reader

Characters: Jensen, Jared, Reader, OFC Emily

Warnings: tiny speck of angst, anxiety, and jealousy

Word Count: 1727

A/n: If this posted after another one of the same thing posts, I’m having problems with tumblr right now. hopefully, this is the only one that posts. This is unbeta’d and all mistakes are my own. Tags will be under the chapter. Also, if you’d like to be tagged, please send me an ask, it makes it easier on me.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Chapter One - Chapter Two

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

“Hello there, what’s your question?”

Keep reading

Dadvid Prompt: Mr. Honeynuts

(Takes place after Gwen Gets a Job.)


“I’m sorry you didn’t get your dream job, Gwen.” David sighed, parking the camp car in its designated spot.


“Eh, don’t worry about it. I’m just glad I finally have that little shit off my back.” Gwen laughed softly. “And hey, we can always try again next week.”


“You’re right…” The man pulled open the car door and stepped out into the dark forest that made up their camp grounds.


It felt nice to finally be back at HIS dream job, but- something didn’t feel quite right now. There was a ‘disturbance in the force’ as he often heard the campers say. Frowning, he turned to look at Gwen to see if she felt anything. Not much to his surprise, he found that she didn’t seem to notice any sort of change.


“Something wrong, David?” She asked.


“Something feels a little odd is all… I’m gonna go check on the campers.” With that, the cinnamon haired counselor took off towards the tents, bidding Gwen a quick goodnight over his shoulder as he did so.


“Good night, doofus!”


Insult aside, David stopped just short of the tents. He then slowed his pace and tip-toed quietly to the first tent, the girl’s tent, and peaked inside. Nerris, Ered, and Nikki were all tucked in their sleeping bags, fast asleep. Not a sign of worry on any of their faces.


“The girls are okay.” He noted out loud, before sneaking off to the next tent.


Preston, Nurf, and Dolph. All were also fast asleep, then Harrison and Spacekid’s tent. No change in any setup. That left just one more tent to check.


“Max and Neil.” David muttered as he approached the only tent with a “Fuck-Off, David” sign on it.


Taking a deep breath, mainly so he didn’t have to fear breathing too loudly and waking a camper (those growing kids needed their rest after all), he poked his head inside.


David was surprised to find the remaining two campers- Also sleeping. Not even a frown from Max-


“Strange… I could of sworn-” The older man stopped, his emerald eyes landing on what he KNEW must be the cause of the shift.


Max’s teddybear.


It was laying on the ground, just under Max’s bed. It was still covered in several shades of mud and grass stains and David couldn’t remember if the bear originally had one eye or two, but he saw that one was missing.


“Why would Max discard his bear like that? He just got it ba-” David’s concern suddenly turned to muted rage, as he suddenly remembered Gwen humiliating the camper with the beloved toy earlier on.


Frowning, the lanky concelor swept the bear off of the floor and into his arms and took off shortly after.


“Petty revenge is one thing, but making someone feel shame over something they care about!?” A hushed tone exclaimed. “I can forgive her not telling me about her job search- thats on me! But NOT hurting one of my campers.”


With a huff, David pushed open the doors of the Mess Hall and flicked on the lights. In the dim light, he found what he was looking for: The stationary tub and a bottle of dish soap (they didn’t have much soap at Camp to begin with, so it would have to do.)


“Lets get you cleaned up, Camper- Honeynuts.” The name was written on the bear’s tag crudely, so he was hoping he had just read it wrong, but that was unimportant at the moment.


A quick scrubbing and a few gentle washes was all it took to rid the bear of its stains. He was looking better already!


“And to dry him… I think I know of the perfect counselor who can help us.”


—–

A swift kick to their cabin door had Gwen crying out in surprise and reaching for the nearest thing to toss before she seemed to realize it was only David.


“What the hell David- Is that Max’s bear?” Purple eyes narrowed dangerously.


“No, this is our newest camper, and you’re gonna help me dry him off.” David stated firmly. “May I PLEASE borrow your hair dryer?”


“W-what!? No! Do you realize what I had to go through to get Max’s his shitty bear ba-”


“CAMPER!” David cut in. “And I seem to remember you humiliating Max with it when you got it back. And since all of this could have been avoided if you had just simply TALKED to ME about your feelings, this is all on you… So please?”


Gwen’s mouth opened slightly, but she just sat there gaping at him for a moment before closing it. Frowning, she reached into her drawer, pulled out the dryer and tossed it to him. Smiling, David mouthed a quick “thank you” before getting back to work.


“Shouldn’t take long, thanks buddy!”


—–

Once the bear was dry, (it took a while since the bear was so large), the concelor scavenged his cabin until he found a spare button that was suitable for a replacement eye. It was from an old jacket, and was tacked on with a bit of glue and a simple stitch.


With the bear cleaned up and put back together, David made a quick trip back to Max’s cabin to return the toy. He took caution in sneaking quietly to the boy’s cot, carefully lifted his small arm, and tucked the bear under it.


“There. Perfect.” He beamed, sneaking back out as quietly as he had come in.


To his relief, as soon as he was back outside, he found that the feeling of disruption had left him, and all was right with the force again.

anonymous asked:

I honestly couldn't read Zukes comic all the way through. I stopped at "I did it to cope". Like yeah what happened to you sucked, and I've had similar problems, but I'm just super like :/ bc, why bring up su and how you wrote for it in a comic about trauma? I can't quite put my finger on why it leaves such a bad taste in my mouth. Maybe I'm just too hard on ppl?

no i feel you! I think it’s because she could of stopped at “i wrote the show as a coping mechanism with my abuse” but then she had to bring up the fact that people gave her shit for how terrible barn mates was and how she literally vagued a kid for criticizing how poorly she wrote peridot.

like lmao being mentally ill is no excuse for her racism, poor character writing, jokes about abuse, ableism. idk why she always needs to explain her points and also paint herself as this victim. 

Our party is fighting a nuclear family of Royal Sea People, where the Dad (King) is basically a Fighter, the Mom (Queen) is a spellcaster, and the boy (Prince) is a rogue.

The Prince immediately rolls a nat 20 to hide from the party (supposedly to prepare a sneak attack) and by the time anyone rolls high enough to see him, he’s definitely out of the room.

Our Sorcerer uses Charm Person successfully on the King, who then, despite the Queen’s protests, sprints to the kitchen to get him Hot Dogs.

Bard (Ooc): Ok, since it’s just the Queen I’m gonna use Disguise Self to change into the son.

Sorcerer (Ooc): Oh….

Bard (Ooc): What?

Sorcerer (Ooc): Sorry I thought you meant you were going to disguise yourself as like the literal Sun.


Later the Son (Dave) did return and had eaten both of his parent’s hearts and transformed into an eldritch monstrosity; complete with eye-stalks, a side-ways shark mouth, and eight scuttling limbs. Our Bard had history with this kid and was more enraged than intimidated.

Bard (still disguised as the son’s human form): Hey Davey!

Dave: *looks*

Bard (disguised): You should kill me first. I want you to see what you’re gonna look like after my friends kick your ass!

Potential Plays-of-the-Game included: The Ranger’s Wolf criting on a Bite attack, our Fighter stabbing this thing with a found trident and succeeding a strength contest with it, and our Sorcerer’s Wild Magic randomly turing everyone invisible (including the Monster itself).

After our party collectively knocking nearly 300hp off this boss, he was just about down for the count. 

Bard: HEY, DAVEY! *Picks up the crown off the King’s head* 

Dave: *looks*

Bard:  *Puts on Crown* *Casts Vicious Mockery* KING ME.

He lands the final blow. The monster is obliterated. Everyone is screaming. Including the DM. A great time is had.

Young Volcanoes

Under normal circumstances, the Potter-Weasley-Malfoy family would avoid the Press like the plague, but with a family that big, it’s simply not possible.

Each of the children has mastered their own- unique- method of dealing with the attention…

Harry: Alright, it’s an 18 yard dash to the front door, it’s packed out there, 

Harry: if someone gets separated YOU CIRCLE BACK. No one gets left behind!

Ginny: Remember, don’t tuck your thumbs. It’s all in the elbows, no punches- 

Ginny: I’m looking at you James and Lily.

Harry: Don’t make eye contact, they sense weakness. Understand everyone?

Everyone: *nods*

Harry: Send us off Teddy, Victoire. Battle stations everyone!

Ginny: *whistles* Go go go!

~~~~

Keep reading

#awkward #pining #ministry

Prompts: @tera2
Author: @queenofthyme

Harry read the article again. He didn’t know why he put himself through it. Rita Skeeter’s outlandish claims never failed to make him angry. And he’d already forced The Daily Prophet to run a redaction days ago. 

No, he did know, actually. It was the accompanying image. The one with Draco Malfoy staring right into the camera, unblinking, a challenge in his eyes. It was familiar but at the same time nothing Harry had ever seen before (except during his many rereads of this particular paper). Malfoy had aged. Matured obviously since he was now a Ministry official. There was just something about his face. The same but different. Harry was drawn to it.

“Auror Potter." 

Harry looked up to find that same face at his doorway, focusing a steely gaze on Harry. He was so shocked he forgot he was holding a cup of tea. It dropped to his desk with an embarrassing clatter, spilling its contents, all over Malfoy’s inked face.  

The Malfoy at Harry’s office door – the real one – didn’t move. His eyes flickered down to Harry’s desk, watching the spill unfold passively.

Harry jumped to his feet and quickly bundled up the wet paper, throwing it face down into a waste basket at his feet. He wasn’t sure if he’d been fast enough.

He looked back up to Malfoy, searching for any sign he might have seen. Nothing. But that hardly meant much. Harry suspected Malfoy’s emotions didn’t play so obviously on his face anymore. He nodded in what he hoped was a professional courteous manner. "Dralfoy.”

Harry froze, the awful blunder hitting his ears just as it came out of his mouth. He could feel himself blushing, his palms getting clammy, his knees weak. Was simply Malfoy’s presence enough to make him come undone these days?

And just when he thought things couldn’t get worse, Harry, not quite sure how much longer he’d be able to stand for, slumped back into his seat - or at least attempted to – but misjudged the position and ended up plummeting to the floor instead.

The only saving grace – if there was any positive to the situation at all – was that at least on the floor, behind his desk, he was hidden from sight. He wondered if he crawled under his desk and stayed there, if Malfoy would get the idea and leave. Harry was seriously considering the option when Malfoy came into view again, stepping around the desk to loom over Harry.

He offered a hand. Harry gladly took it, forgetting for a moment the current predicament of said hands. And sure enough, after Malfoy helped Harry to his feet, he quickly let go and wiped his hand on his trousers.

Harry wanted to close his eyes and crawl up into a ball in the corner of the room. He never wanted to look Malfoy in the eye again. In less than a minute, he had made himself look like a complete fool. And all it took was for Malfoy to walk in the bloody room.

Malfoy cleared his throat. “I just came by to say hello. I thought it was polite given we work in the same building now. Which, of course, you already know.” His eyes darted to the waste basket. Shit.

“I had The Daily Prophet write a redaction,” Harry blurted out, as if that would help. Although at least he managed to get the words right this time.

“That was you? I should have guessed. You never miss an opportunity to save my skin.” Malfoy’s lips quirked upward for the smallest moment before his composure returned. “Well, it was nice seeing how the other side lives. I suppose I must get back to it.”

“Right,” Harry managed to nod. “I’ll get the door for you.”

They both stared at the open door.

Having already committed to the pointless task, Harry hurried forward and tripped over his own feet, falling right into Malfoy’s waiting – his reflexes were still as fast as they were in Quidditch – arms. Could Harry be more embarrassing?

Malfoy righted Harry but kept a firm grip on him – perhaps he thought Harry might slump to the floor otherwise, which was probably an accurate assumption at this stage.

There was amusement in Malfoy’s face now, a lightness in his eyes. “Are you always this clumsy, Potter, or am I special?”

“You’re special,” Harry answered quickly as he didn’t want Malfoy to think this was how all his mornings went. Although, after he realised what he’d said, he quickly tried to take it back: “No, I mean, wait, I mean, that’s not what I  -“

Malfoy took a step back, dropping his arms. “No need to be so flustered, Potter,” he interrupted. “I keep all the newspapers with your face on them too.”

Harry’s brain short-circuited. He must have stood there blinking at Malfoy for a solid five seconds before he was able to ask: “All of them?”

“Thirty-four and counting.” Malfoy winked. “You know, Potter, if you were to take me out to dinner, I’m sure the outing might be scandalous enough to make the front page. We could add to both our collections.”

“If I – you – dinner?” Harry repeated, a little discombobulated.

“Why, Potter,” Malfoy said, a cheeky smile appearing on his face, “I thought you’d never ask. I’d love to.”

Harry blinked – it was the only action he was capable of.

Malfoy laughed lightly when Harry didn’t reply. He made to exit, but paused briefly to call out over his shoulder: “I finish at six.”

Only when Malfoy was out of view did Harry let his knees give in.

more like this l @queenofthyme

A Definitely Incomplete List Of My Favorite Moments From The Lightning Thief (book), because I'm having Feelings
  • Percy very causally mentioning times he accidentally hit a school bus with a canon or dropped fifth graders into shark-infested water
  • Grover Underwood
  • Just everything he’s ever done
  • Percy running an illegal candy ring out of his dorm room 
  • “I was worried they found out I got my essay on Tom Sawyer from the internet and were going to take away my grade. Or worse, they were going to make me read the book.”
  • When Percy thought Grover was going to give him some deep, meaningful commentary on life to make him feel better but Grover just wanted Percy’s lunch
  • Percy tried so hard to do well on his Latin final and Chiron somehow thinks it’s a good idea to tell him he’s ‘not normal’ in front of the class my poor boy
  • That one part where Percy essentially went “Oh hey mom’s home!!! Better reschedule this panic attack I was having!!” 
  • When Percy did that weird hand sign (that was never explained) and the door slammed on Gabe so hard he flew up the steps
  • The fact that when Grover finally tracked Percy down he wasn’t wearing any pants. Like, there was literally no reason for him to not have the fake feet and the jeans on. No actual reason for him to be free balling it. Percy just needed a shock apparently. Showing up in the middle of a hurricane with no pants, dramatic ass satyr I love him. 
  • The SATISFYING DEATH of Gabe’s Camaro + Sally apparently learned bullfighting just in case because she truly is the best mom
  • Percy killing the minotaur with its own horn
  • Percy dragging Grover over the camp line while crying for his mom literally end me
  • You drool when you sleep.” could we get more iconic here
  • Percy teasing Annabeth about her crush on Luke
  • When Luke stole some toiletries for Percy and he got a little choked up because it was apparently the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him
  • The fact that Chiron basically told Annabeth that Percy was her destiny
  • The fact that a recovering alcoholic god of wine who hates children was deemed fit to run a camp for children
  • Not so fun: Percy, upon meeting Mr. D, immediately recognizing the signs of an alcoholic and going out of his way to sit far away from him ‘just in case’
  • The fact that everyone just expected him to hear ‘the greek gods are real’ and move on?? why would no one let this boy be in shock omg
  • Zeus apparently had a thing for the fluffy 80′s hairstyles
  • “the real world is where the monsters are” 
  • The fact that Poseidon could have claimed Percy at literally any moment but he apparently decided he really needed that dramatic reveal during capture the flag.
  • When Zeus was feeling Extra Dramatic™ after Percy’s claiming so he started making it rain inside the camp boarders and everyone was lowkey freaking out
  • When Annabeth pulls off her invisible cap and declares she’s going on the quest with him and Percy was like, beyond unsurprised that she was there and didn’t even attempt to fight her 
  • Chiron forgot to give Percy a sword from his father for like, an entire month. 
  • Grover with those freaking flying shoes oh my God
  • Annabeth blushing literally any time Luke talks to her 
  • IN THIS HOUSE WE LOVE AND RESPECT ARGUS, HEAD OF CAMP SECURITY
  • lmao when Percy and Annabeth start bickering about something and Argus just winks at Percy because he knows
  • When they were playing hackey sack with an apple but it got too close to Grover’s mouth and he just ate the whole thing
  • The entire bus scene oh my God
  • “I was about to become the ADHD Poster Child of the Year” as he’s CRASHING A BUS
  • Annabeth on a fury’s back 
  • the explosion. just. all gr8. 
  • When Grover tries to play a path finder song and Percy just immediately slams into a tree. Also the fact that the path finder song was actually just a Hillary Duff number. 
  • “You two are giving me a migraine, and satyr’s don’t even get migraines!” 
  • Percy actually, truly trying to sell the story that the three of them are circus orphans who got separated from their ringleader 
  • Grover: hey guys this place is REALLY SHADY and we need to leave
  • Annabeth and Percy: but f o o d
  • Can you imagine walking into a store and finding your dead uncle’s body on display? Like????
  • When Medusa revealed herself and Annabeth’s running around invisible, Percy’s swinging a sword blindly and Grover’s flying around screaming and trying to whack her with a stick: everyone here is a MESS
  • When Annabeth was overly annoyed with Percy after that ordeal??? Sweetheart you fell for the trick too
  • Name something more iconic than 12 year old Percy Jackson mailing the decapitated head of Medusa to the gods on Mt. Olympus in an act of sheer pettiness. I dare you. 
  • When Percy was insisting on taking first watch while the others slept and Grover was basically like “hey kiddo listen to this” and played a song that immediately knocked him out so he could sleep all night 
  • “Percy. Say hello to the poodle.”
  • Percy seeing all the Greek creatures from the train window 
  • When Annabeth was dragging the boys to the St. Louis Arch and Percy’s claustrophobic ass Did Not Want To Get In That Tiny Elevator but he went anyway because he wanted Annabeth to be happy. That boy has had it bad since the start. 
  • “I am Echidna!”
  • “Isn’t…isn’t that a type of anteater?”
  • I HATE AUSTRALIA.” 
  • How many times has Percy actually been poisoned throughout all the series I literally want a count 
  • ‘Lemme just, uh….jump off the fucking St. Louis Arch and hope I don’t die when I hit the water.’
  • There is just something very aesthetic about Percy lighting a fire in the bottom of a river 
  • Percy’s got so much pent-up rage that he’s just immediately ready to wreck Ares upon meeting him omfg
  • THE THRILL RIDE O’ LOVE
  • Annabeth getting so worked up and flustered over going down there with Percy because it’s a love ride and Percy’s just like “you literally do not have to make this a Thing” lmao
  • Annabeth wouldn’t let Percy touch Aphrodite’s scarf because she didn’t want him getting infected by love magic but then…touched it herself lol
  • The entire sequence with the mechanical spiders and the cameras and the ride itself 
  • Percy’s plan to get off the ride!!!! He’s so smart okay can people stop calling him stupid!!! 
  • Grover trying to catch them both in mid-air but they‘re too heavy so the three of them just kind of slowly crash into one of those face-cut-out posters lol
  • Percy, turning to the camera’s broadcasting this shit on Olympus: “Show’s over! Thank You! Goodnight!” 
  • THE FUCKING ZOO BUS
  • Everything about that scene omg. The animals they had to help. Trying to convince Grover of how great he is. The baby percabeth. my h e a r t
  • “What if it does line up like the Trojan War? Athena versus Poseidon?”
  • “I don’t know what my mom will do. I just know I’ll be fighting next to you.”
  • “Why?”
  • “Because you’re my friend, Seaweed Brain, any more stupid questions?”
  • Do you hear that sound? That’s me, ages 13-21(+) sobbing uncontrollably oh my God I love them so much
  • ‘let’s just set a fucking lion loose in Las Vegas’ 
  • “I put a Blessing of the Wild on them, so they’ll safely find food and shelter wherever they go.”
  • “Why can’t you put on of those on us?”
  • “It only works on wild animals.”
  • “So it would only effect Percy…”
  • “HEY!” 
  • When they get to the Lotus hotel and Grover starts playing that game where the deer shoot the hunters azxjhnhdjx
  • Percy physically having to drag his friends out of there once he realized it was the lair of the lotus eaters
  • When Annabeth gave the taxi driver her lotus credit card and he started calling her “Your Highness” lmao
  • Every time in this book Percy comes close to uncovering a Dark Truth the people around him are just like “let’s not worry about that :) “ and my polite boy actually shuts up it’s so wild because I would just keep going lol
  • CRUSTY THE WATER BED SALESMAN 
  • Listen that entire scene has lowkey always been one of my Favs and I’m not even sure why but Percy chopping his head off was g r e a t
  • The entrance to the Underworld is DOA Recording Studios and I love it
  • “We, uh…all drowned in a bathtub.”
  • Poor Charon just wants his Italian suits he doesn’t need all this bullshit 
  • Grover almost getting dragged into Tartarus: not good. very bad. bad shit. 
  • Annabeth getting emotionally attached to Cerberus in the span of 3 minutes: RELATABLE 
  • ‘huh my backpack that I thought I got rid of five days ago is getting weirdly heavy, that’s not suspicious though, right?’ 
  • When Hades just starts monologue-ing about all the shit he has to put up with
  • “what kind of awful things do you have to do to get sewn into Hades underwear?” p e r c y
  • when Percy realizes the Master Bolt is in his backpack and he’s just like. tell me why. why. I’m a good person. what did I DO. 
  • When Percy has to sacrifice his mom to get Annabeth and Grover out of there I Cri Evey Tiem 
  • My cute lil’ baby yelling around on a beach to get Ares to show up 
  • ahdbsjznx when Grover gives Percy a crushed, half eaten tin can for good like and Percy is just like “Grover…I don’t know what to say.” I LOVE HIM
  • My sweet son kicking the god of war’s ass. bless. blessed on this day. 
  • The news crews who suddenly started backtracking and writing Percy as a hero 
  • Percy, choking back tears, giving Gabe’s store’s phone number out on national television and promising everyone free appliances IM STILL CACKLING I LOVE THIS BOY SO MUCH HE’S ICONIC 
  • Hades actually releasing Sally because he’s Not As Big Of A Dick As He Could Have Been 
  • Percy: hey I think there’s a really good chance that Kronos was behind this whole mess-
  • Zeus and Poseidon: XXX KRONOS DO NOT INTERACT XXX
  • Poseidon rolling his eyes at literally everything Zeus says and does
  • Poseidon and Percy’s whole talk omg my sweet boy just wants his dad to love him and Poseidon’s trying to figure out how to show affection when he basically signed this kid’s death sentence I’m crying 
  • A man will never satisfy me as much or in the same way as Sally Jackson murdering Gabe Ugliano did 
  • Percy was spending months of summer stressing over who the friend that’s supposed to betray him was but like…Sweetie you had exactly three (3) friends and you knew two of them weren’t gonna hurt you
  • ahbdjsnx when Percy and Luke were having their conversation in the woods and like Luke’s acting shady af the whole time but it’s literally not until he litters that Percy is like “something…is Wrong.” this boy I s2g
  • Percy getting bit by a scorpion is Not A Favorite Moment but the nymphs helping him out was 
  • Percy making his Official Decision to go home for the school year only after Annabeth reveals that he actually did talk her into trying again with her family 
  • I didn’t mean to write out a summary of the whole damn book it’s six am listen I’m just feeling nostalgia for the original series in this chili’s tonight 
  • whoops

“Thanks, Maggie. Love you,” Dex says, and Nursey’s heart stops beating for a moment. His lungs refuse to inhale or exhale. The muscles in his legs forget that they are holding up an actual person.

Then Dex’s eyes catch his, going wide at the interruption, and Nursey somehow finds it in himself to pretend that everything is exactly the same now as it was thirty seconds ago.

He looks away and heads for the fridge, his limbs remembering themselves once more.

“Hey, uh, sorry, I gotta go. Can I call you back?” Dex says into his cell phone on the other side of the Haus kitchen.

Nursey rummages through several pounds of butter in search of something edible. He silently repeats to himself his old mantra from Andover, from when he could barely see straight for the tears welling up in his eyes at every backhanded remark or micro-aggression. The mantra he used to train his emotions not to show themselves at every turn, the way they had done with abandon throughout his childhood.

“Write it down instead,” his sister suggested, when he confided to her his inability to keep things bottled up. And, after a time, that strategy seemed to work.

Write it down instead, he still tells himself now, at the end of his Sophomore year at Samwell, whenever the world becomes too much, whenever he feels suddenly as though his façade of always okay always fine always chill isn’t strong enough to handle the current situation.

Nursey begins to silently run through the words again in his head now, trying very hard not to analyze why he needs to.

“Um, so. How much of that did you hear?” Dex asks him, and luckily Nursey’s got his head buried so far into the freezer that he doesn’t have to cover his pained grimace.

“Not much, man, don’t worry about it. Hey, you think Bitty would murder us if we used his new oven for store-brand taquitos?”

He barely hears Dex’s reply, though, too busy faking normalcy. Too busy wondering who it was on the other end of Dex’s phone call that got to hear the words “I love you” from the guy, and so casually offered up that Dex must say it to her daily.

Keep reading

Bring It On | 01

Park Jimin | Comedy | Fluff | Slight Angst | BIO!au | cheerleader!jimin

❝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.

“What?”

“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—”

“Monogamy?”

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.

“Jimin.”

“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.

“The blowjob?”

“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.”

“No!”

Yes.”

“No!”

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.

The Girlfriend

Originally posted by tomshollandss

Fandom: Avengers/Marvel
Paring: Peter Parker x Reader
Summary: Peter Parker goes on a mission to bring back the Winter Solider, but ends up getting beat up really badly. As he’s passing out he calls out for his girlfriend, asking Steve to call her. Everyone is surprised since they had no idea Peter was dating anyone. Fluff, teasing and a little revenge ensues :)
Not really a request…I found this post and was just so inspired!
Warnings: violence, mention of blood, swearing…and a little long. Sorry not sorry lol

It all started with that damn red notebook. 

“We should’ve destroyed it.” Steve said, barely able to look up from the table top.  
“You should’ve kept Bucky asleep in Wakanda.” Tony said roughly, spitting out Bucky’s name. He may have forgiven Steve for their fight during the Accords, but he was far from forgiving Bucky for killing his parents.
“We should’ve known it wouldn’t be safe with SHIELD. Those guys are always having their headquarters either broken into or blown up.” Sam shot back, trying to keep the peace but catering to everyone’s shared distaste for the spy organization.

Keep reading

Our Little Secret - Part Eleven

Summary: Dean and you try something new on the way to your next hunt

Series Masterlist

Characters: Dean, Sam, Reader

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Square Filled: free space for @spnkinkbingo

Kink(s): Sexting

Word Count: 3400

Warnings: Smut, sexting, language, flashback in italics, texting is in bold and italics

A/N: Thank you so much for reading. I’m really loving these character and this series. Thank you for your wonderful responses. A special thank you to the people who looked this over for me.

***THE TAGLIST FOR THIS SERIES IS CLOSED**

It’s been three weeks, three freaking weeks since Dean has touched you and you are dying.

The first two weeks had been because you were healing up. He was pretty sure you had cracked ribs and your shoulder had been really sore, so he wasn’t going to chance hurting you, even the couple of times you had insisted.

Then you had gotten the bright idea to tell him either he could have fun with you, or you would take care of it yourself. Dean promptly made sure the two of you shared a room with Sam at the next motel, a smug smile on his face, daring you to go right ahead. If you weren’t so nervous about being caught, you would have called his bluff.

Keep reading

Mixtapes (Richie/Eddie)

Summary: Both Richie and Eddie are very fond of each other and often tease each other affectionately, especially Richie to Eddie. So Bill and Stan both play cupid, which results in swapping mixtapes for eachother.

Warning(s): Bad language, 13 year olds kissing (don’t read if you think its fucking weird?? bc its not), if you think this is me sexualising these cuties-don’t bother

Richie’s Mixtape to Eddie

Eddie’s Mixtape to Richie

A/N: Look at my children in love, PLEASE I highly recc listening to either of the mixtapes that are linked above^^? They are both very 70/80′s. btw I do requests? If anyone wants to hit me up an x reader or a ship in IT 2017 (or IT in general) I’ll be glad to do so?? don’t be shy

“Awe, Eds. Look at you.” Richie cooed teasingly, pinching Eddie’s slowly flushing cheek.

Eddie quickly began swatting at Richie’s hand, his eyebrows furrowed heavily and a frown on his lips, “Don’t touch me with your rotten hands, asshole!”

Richie ignored his protests and flinched away from his swats, moving his hand to now over his shoulders and pulling the smaller boys frame into his own side, a grin on his lips.  “You’re such a cutie, Eds.”

“No, No I’m fucking-”

“Both of you, shut up.” Stanley grumbles after rolling his eyes several times at the two.

Richie snapped his eyes at Stan, glaring through his coke bottle glasses, which only enhanced his eye size even more. He held Eddie closer, even with Eddie’s flushed cheeks he still squirmed lightly.

Stan sighs in relief and folds his arms as the group goes back to its usual discussion about the new random comic book of the week. Eddie couldn’t help but allow his heart to beat faster at Richie’s touch against his form, making him feel protected in his stronger grip. He couldn’t help but zone out as Richie begun to bicker that his comic book that he found was better than Stan’s.

Bill tilted his head, analysing Eddie as his eyes would flicker all over the place with his mouth gaping before closing every now and then and gulping. He knew that how he was acting wasn’t the norm for Eddie whenever Richie was like this, something was different. Not to mention that he had stopped struggling against Richie who wasn’t even holding Eddie tightly or forcing him in place.

Bill smiled a bit, as something clicked inside of his head- a plan. But he was going to need Stanley to help out.


That night, on the way home from their adventurous summer day- Bill was walking Eddie home as Stanley had taken Richie to a different route. Bill hummed a tune as he walked alongside his friend, grinning as he turned to look at him.

“So…”

Eddie looked at Bill, tilting his head, “So?”

“So, y-..you and Richie?”

“Yeah?” Eddie was confused, almost disgust in his voice- but Bill could see past the faux disgust.

“I saw how you were t-today, Eddie. Y-you were blushing.”

This again, only caused Eddie to heat up as his form became a flustered mess and he glared at Bill. “You would blush too if someone touched your arm!”

“N-no, I’d only b-blush if Bev touched my arm there.” Bill pointed out, “but in this instance, you blushed when Richie had his arm around you- as well when he pinched your cheek and called you a ‘cutie’, it’s quite obvious.”

Eddie snapped his head away, patting his fanny pack for reassurance for himself. “Whats your point?”

“My point? M=my point is that he’s flirting with you; y-you like him.”

“I don’t like him! And he isn’t flirting with me! He acts like that with everyone-”

Bill cuts Eddie off quickly, “E-Eddie, do you see him pinching any of our cheeks and calling us a ‘cutie’? He doesn’t put his arms a-around us or any of the shit he does for you, not to mention he calls you E-Eds and doesn’t have a nickname for any of us.”

“Okay Bill-”

“N-n..not to mention, he carries an extra i-inhaler around just incase you lose yours.”

Thats when Eddie’s breath hitches, feeling butterflies go crazy in his abdomen, adoration swirling and tugging at his heart strings. He could practically hear his heart in his ears loud and clear.

“He… he does?” Eddie whispers, his voice quivering a bit.

“Yeah, even though he knows that you don’t even need it anymore, because you know, gazebos and your Mom making your illness up and shit but- yeah.” Bill smiles, watching how the young boy was falling more and more in love.

Eddie then quickly holds his wrist, feeling his pulse; resulting his fingertips quivering from feelings how his heart was beating with happiness.

“Oh… I-I never knew that. He’s never told me…”

“That’s b-because you’ve never needed it, but he always has.”

Eddie bites his lip, “What a fucking, what- he’s a fucking dick.” Eddie protests, blushing bright as ever.

“Sure he is,” Bill chuckled, “But l-look, I wanna help you. I know when someone is in love when I see it.”

“How?” Eddie asked, neither denying his feelings or admitting.

“Well.. It i-involves music.”


Meanwhile, Stanley was grumbling to himself in annoyance and cursing Bill’s name for getting him into this situation with Richie Tozier. He didn’t want to do this, but Bill had promised to give him some candy as a reward if it goes well.

“So, Richie. I’m gonna make this quick as possible so I can just go home.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Richie asked with pure confusion, a single eyebrow furrowing and one raising.

“You like Eddie, Eddie likes you.” Stan started, his face full of boredom, “Can you just hurry up and tell him?”

Richie was shocked by his friend’s words at first, before smirking. “Hell yeah I like him, I tell him all the time.”

“I mean genuinely, you asshole.” Stan sighed, “Not as a joke or some shit, literally confess your fucking feelings to him or something.”

Richie rolls his eyes, not being fazed by the situation, “What makes you think I like him seriously? I’m not fucking gay-”

“It’s pretty fucking clear you like girls, after you telling us for the full day about the first time you ‘tickled your pickle’ to a random magazine that had huge boobs all over it. But you like guys too, there’s nothing wrong with that.” Stan spoke with a monotone voice, managing to not let any voice cracks slip.

Richie scoffed, “I don’t like him, he’s a friend and I like to tease him.”

“You tease him by calling him ‘cute’ and you give him a nickname, you don’t do it to anyone else. You like him, just admit it- no one is judging you.” 

Richie frowned, huffing a bit and rolling his eyes. “Well, what if I did? Whats your point and where are you going with this?”

Stan smirked, patting Richie’s back forcefully, causing him to stumble forward.

“What’s your taste in music like?”


The next day, both Richie and Eddie were walking to school together in perfect unison, both of them holding a tape in their pocket that held a variety of songs that the one had imagined for the other.

Richie gulped, for once actually nervous around Eddie. What would Eddie think of him? It was a fucking mixtape, it was Richie’s music taste. Would he even like it? Would he-

“Richie, here. I want you to have this.” Eddie cut off Richie’s thoughts, holding up a tape alike to Richie’s.

Richie blinked twice, stopping in his steps. The tape was all black and what seemed to be painted on with nail polish ‘Sucks to Suck’ on top of the tape. 

“I-it’s a mixtape.” Eddie mumbled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as he felt flustered.

Richie stayed silent, slowly taking the tape, analysing it with soft eyes before looking up with confusion. He turned over the  mix tape to see ‘to Richie’ painted with the same shade of white but in smaller writing.

“You made one too?” He spoke quietly, his head tilted to the side which caused his dark brown hair to tilt too.

“What?”

“Look…” Richie dug into his pocket and pulled out his own black tape which had a sticker on it, saying ‘Gimmie head til’ I’m dead!’ on it, with writing scribbled onto the back saying ‘to Eds’ with a cheeky smiley face, “I made one too, here.” He handed it over.

Eddie’s eyes widened, blushing a bit as he took it from the glasses wearing boy and read over it- mentally scoffing at the sticker but he was in awe of the idea that both of them had somehow made a mixtape for the other.

“You too?” Eddie whispered in shock.

“Well, yeah- but it wasn’t my idea.”

“It wasn’t mine either.” 

Richie quickly smirked, rolling his eyes, “They fucking set us up.”

“Who? Bill? Because it was Bill’s idea for me-” Eddie began to ramble on.

“It was Stan’s idea for me.”

Eddie then stopped, sighing with a grin- poking his tongue in his cheek. “Fuck, that makes sense.”

Both look at each other with grins slowly spreading over their chapped lips, soon the two boys were in a fit of giggles due to the realisation of the sweet situation. Both never taking eyes off one another, blushes spreading to their ears and down their necks.

“I, I guess I’ll listen to this tonight?” Richie’s voice broke, still calming down from his fit of giggles.

“Yeah, me too… I-i uh, I picked out the songs carefully and put them in order a certain way, so..” Eddie trailed off, becoming a little ashamed incase Richie would tease him for his effort.

But Richie only felt love swell inside of him at those words, he grabbed Eddie’s hand with his free one and leant forward, bending down slightly, whilst pressing their lips together for the first time. Eddie’s eyes widened in shock, before melting and wrapping his free arm around Richie’s neck with the mixtape in his firm grip. Both merged together in sync and harmony, with their lips swelling and becoming saturated in colour. Richie wrapped his other arm around Eddie’s waist and too held his mix tape tightly as they both kissed in the middle of the street, hand in hand, with no shame at all.


Eddie sat down at his desk, placing his headphones over his head, pressing play as quickly the flood of Richie vibes swirled into his eardrums. Finally, after many aching hours at school he had time to listen to this mixtape.

I don’t want to know your name

Cause’ you don’t look the same

The way you did before

Okay, you think you got a pretty face

But the rest of you is out of place

You looked alright before…

Eddie chuckled at the familiar song, it often played in arcades that the Losers club all went too. It went under the title ‘Fox on the Run’ and it was by ‘The Sweets’.

Fox on the run!

You scream and everybody comes a running!

Take a run and hide yourself away…

Foxy on the run!

F-foxy!

Fox on the run…

And hide away!

Eddie listened to every song intensely, capturing the vibe of Richie Tozier perfectly. He had even picked out songs that they both loved and favoured. Eddie really adored Richie’s music taste and everything about it, it perfectly described him as a person and he loved that.

Soon, the last song came on. By the instrumental, Eddie recognised it to be ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love With You’ by Elvis Presley. HIs heart hammered quickly.

Wise men say,

Only fools rush in

But I, cant help, falling in love with you…

Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin?

If I can’t help, falling in love with you…

Eddie’s breath hitched in his throat, feeling his pulse echo throughout his system. This was not part of Richie’s vibe at all, but part of Eddie’s. Eddie loved Elvis Presley whilst Richie wasn’t a big fan of him. 

But this song was magical and made for someone special, so Eddie was shocked and swooned. Very much so captivated.

Eddie Kaspbrak was falling in love with Richie Tozier.


Later that night, Richie laid down in bed with his cheap headphones, before plugging them into the mixtape and pressing the button to get the songs going.

The first song started; it was of course one of Richie’s favoured artists as well as Eddie’s. From what he knew, this was one of Eddie’s favourite songs from David Bowie, it was called Heroes and it was a truly beautiful song.

I, I will be king.

And you, you will be queen.

Though nothing, will drive them away

We can beat them, just for one day.

Oh we can be heroes!

Just for one day.

And you, you can be mean.

And I, I drink all the time.

Because we’re lovers, and that is a fact.

Yes we’re lovers, and that is that.

Though nothing, will keep us together

We could steal time, just for one day.

We could be heroes, forever and ever.

What’d you say?

Richie felt his heart pump faster and swell as the mixtape carried on, each song having Eddie’s vibe to it. But Richie could tell that they matched him in a way that made Eddie pick it for him to listen to. Everything was intentional.

After a good 50 minutes, the final song was starting to play. Yet Richie wasn’t prepared for what he was about to hear.

Hey Jude…

Don’t make it bad,

Take a sad song, then make it better.

Remember, to let her into your heart.

Then you can start to make it better.

Richie’s eyes widened as his thoughts wandered back to Eddie’s simple words. ‘I picked out the songs carefully and put them in order a certain way.’ This meant that Eddie had intentionally wanted Richie to hear this song last.

Hey Jude…

Don’t be afraid.

You were made to go out and get her.

The minute you let her under your skin

Then you begin to make it better.

Richie felt the tears prick at his waterline as this was the first time of him being emotional at a song. Eddie was the only person that knew about Richie’s home life, how he was neglected by his parents constantly and was alone. He knew that the reason why Richie was so loud and out there was because he didn’t receive the attention he deserved at home, so he wanted it from friends. He wanted to make people laugh, Eddie knew this.

Eddie’s key words lingered in his brain, as it stuck out to him that this single song revealed that Eddie’s whole mixtape was set up in a way to help Richie throughout dark times or whenever he felt alone, so he could remember that Eddie had cared enough to set up this mixtape in perfect order to make Richie stronger in that given moment.

And anytime you feel the pain,

Hey Jude, refrain

Don’t carry the world upon your shoulders.

For well you know that it’s a fool,

Who plays it cool

By making his world a little colder.

Richie’s tears finally fell, making him take his glasses off to refrain any of the tears staining the lenses. Eddie had purposely picked this song as if to say that Richie was in fact his Jude, he wanted Richie to get better and hopefully have a better mindset besides his life at home.

Nah, nah nah, nah nah, nah nah, nah nah…

His breaths shook, as he held the mixtape to his chest with the headphones still placed perfectly on his head. He was thankful to have someone like Eddie who would even bother to do this, as something as simple as this with so much thought put into it only made him fall in love with the small boy even more.

Captain Finstock is furious.

“Great job, you bunch of morons! Got yourself into a hostage situation, almost got half of the team killed, and now we have to babysit a pack of FBI agents because you are so damn incompetent! And no, Hale, you do not get to opt out of this bullshit because a fed stole your beanie! In fact, I’mma pair you up with him, what was his name, Bilinski? Yes, the doe-eyed one. How old is he anyway, do they hire kids right out of kindergarten now? God, I don’t have enough booze to cover this shit. Could be better off coaching teenagers in a high school probably. Now, get out of my office!”

What a way to start a Monday.

**

“I didn’t know a beanie and a hoodie are new FBI style,” Derek all but seethes.  

“Says a detective wearing his own initial on his belt.”

Derek follows Stilinski’s gaze to his crotch and blushes, “That’s not … that’s not for “Hale”, it’s for “Hermes”.

“Oh, an officer who knows couture? I’m impressed!“ And then the bastard winks.

Derek mentally punches a wall.

**

In theory, having a team of FBI agents helping you with a case can be a good thing, because, well, they have more resources, and a much larger database, and cooler toys. On practice though, it is a giant pain in the ass, mainly because Derek hates his new partner.

Well, no, Derek doesn’t hate him, it’s Derek’s balls that hate him. The brat (what kind of a name is Stiles Stilinski anyway?) is not just cute and smart and knows how to make killer lattes, he is also obnoxious and flirts with Derek all the time, and has an obscene mouth and fingers Derek can’t even look at, because those long dexterous fingers do things to Derek, and at this point Derek’s balls are not just blue, they are pitch black and about to fall off.

Derek might have ripped several bedsheets with his erection and may or may not have considered billing Stilinski for them.

He decides against it, and instead chooses to channel his frustration into anger and into being a dick.

That doesn’t help.

In fact, it just makes things worse. The more frustrated and angry Derek gets, the flirtier Stiles becomes. It’s ridiculous, like trying to put out a fire by throwing gasoline at it.

Finally, frustration boils over and Derek all but slams the younger man into a wall while no one’s looking. He gets into Stiles’s face, pointing an accusational finger at him like a gun, and tells him all he thinks about flowers, handcuff hearts, chocolates, winks, air kisses and all other crap Stilinski has been pulling on him since day one. He has enough, he doesn’t like it, he doesn’t want it, and …

Derek is surprised to see how hurt Stiles looks. He expects anything from a sucker punch to a fist to his face, but Stiles just whispers liar and leaves.

Derek would’ve preferred a sucker punch.

**

I’m such an idiot!

Derek cusses himself while camaro slithers through empty streets. What a shitty detective is he if he can’t recognize a genuine crush over a prank? Worse even, Stiles is right- he is a liar. He should be sucking Stiles off right now instead of going back to an empty loft.

His self-loathing is cut short by a truck ramming into his side.

**

Derek loses track of time after about a week. After all, it is hard to tell day from night when you are lying semi-conscious in a windowless basement.

Well, if it is how Derek goes out, so be it, he can’t cheat death forever. He wishes he could cheat it long enough to tell Stiles he likes him though. May be even loves him. But, with Hale luck ™ , he likely won’t even have a chance to say good bye.

He hears his captors chatting near the cell, clanking tools. Oh, another round of torture, how terrific.

And then something goes wrong, there are screams and shouting and gunfire and the cell door busts open and it’s actually Stiles, his Stiles, hair disheveled, with stubble and dark circles under his eyes, and he looks livid.  Derek tries to scream, to warn Stiles one of the terrorists is launching at him from behind but Stiles just grabs the man and breaks his neck without even looking because his eyes never leave Derek’s face.

Derek would probably coming all over himself now if not for the extensive blood loss.

**

Stiles drags him out through fire and dead bodies and drops him into an ambulance before Derek gets a chance to say thank you.

**

When Derek comes back, things are different. Stiles is still friendly and cooperative but now he is, for a lack of a better word, professional. No winks, no kissy faces, no more trying to sit on Derek’s lap – only business. Basically, this is everything Derek had asked for.

And Derek wants to scream.

When Captain Finstock calls him to his office and tells him, “I don’t know what the hell you did, Hale, but you better fix it soon, because your lovers spat is freaking me out”,  Derek realizes how royally he screwed up.

**

It takes a mind of a genius and a healthy dose of gay juju to properly apologize to Stiles, and Derek now owes a case of champagne to Dr. Martin and a new Prada wallet to Danny from cyber crime, but sleepy warm Stiles is cuddling him in his bed, so all of that was totally worth it.

Stiles nuzzles Derek’s neck and mumbles, “I can hear you thinking.”

Derek smiles, kisses him and goes back to sleep.