i will probably be away for the most part of next week

Mom Adopts a “Dog”

So y’all keep blowing up my notes with the various Family Lore stories I’ve been telling, so I guess I should tell one on my parents now.

My Mother’s Father was part of the United Auto Worker’s Union, and during the 50′s and 60′s, was on strike a lot. My point is, grandpa got himself an entirely deserved reputation for being a sucker who loved animals, so people would dump thier pets on him. Hence, my mother grew up in a house with pets such as Picket the one-eyed tomcat, Tweety the Bald canary, Dummy the cat, Stupid Son of Dummy, Spooky Garbage Dog and Chiquita the Tarantula.  Eventually Grandma put her foot down when Grandpa brought home Gerta the Saint Bernard.

I say all this because it provides some context for how the following occured.

Mom and Dad had just moved in together (my parents dated for six years and were engaged for 13 days, driving everyone on both sides insane), and unfortunately, My mother’s German Shepherd, Cops, has just passed away due to bone cancer.  After mourning for a bit, Mom and Dad decided to get a dog together, as a couple.  

For context, my father had never owned a dog in his life.  His mother had ‘Pretty Bird” the budgie as a child but parrots are alien life forms, not pets.

So they go to the Palo Alto Animal shelter to adopt.  The year was 1987, and at the time, Palo Alto was… not a great place.  Lots of drugs, gangs and poor civic managment.  Mom told me that she learned to identify different types of gunfire while living there. They get there, and mom explains that she’s always had a preference for Big Dogs, and the guy’s face lights up.  Oh Yes, he says, We have a Big Dog.  For expirienced owners, yep, adoptable today, here we’ll give you a discount even-

Somehow my parents were not suspicious about this.

They were shown to the Animal in question, a Gorgeous blue-sable beastie with pretty golden eyes who immediately pressed herself against the fence and gave them the best PUH-LEEEEEEASE TAKE ME HOME puppy eyes 100lbs of canine can do.  Mom and Dad fall in love instantly.  They sign all the paperwork and take her home for $10, and name her “Mazel” as in “Mazel Tov.”

Within the hour, it becomes clear that something is amiss.

Cops had lived with his kibble stored in a plastic garbage can in the garage for six years without incident.  Mazel figured out how to open doors and got the locking lid off the can in six minutes, horking down about four pounds of the stuff before my mother notices that it’s been weirdly quiet.  Most dogs bark at or chase squirrels.  Mazel stalked and caught one the second day, presenting it to my mother like an offering.  Mazel knew all her commands but would clearly stop to consider before obeying, and trained my dad to give her good treats within a week.  The locks on the side-yard gate were undone, and she took a stroll around the neighborhood, but always retuned home for dinner.

After a week of gradually realizing that Mazel was smarter than most of the professors my mom worked with, they took her to the Vet for a routine checkup.

Dr. Hamada walked into the exam room, dropped the clip-board and said “Where the HELL did you get a Wolf?”

After a bit of prodding and a very-angry-dr.hamada-calling-the-pound, they determined Mazel was a high-content hybrid, probably with a husky, but was going to be a lil shit her entire life.  OK, said Hamada, I don’t like destroying animals and you’ve got a lot of expirience with dogs, so I’m okay with letting you keep her, but you should keep her away from small children because her Prey Drive could kick in.

Two years later, mom got pregnant with me.

Mazel noticed instantly, and reacted by digging a large hole in the yard and catching even more squirrels for mom, because she needed the protein or something.  That what you do when the Alpha Bitch is preggers, right?  Dig a den and ply her with food?  On the advice of my grandmother, my mom stayed overnight at the hospital once I was delivered, and dad went home with a shirt that had moms and my scent on it.  Mazel spent the whole night puzzling over it.

The next morning, when mom came home with me, there was the sudden and instantaneous recognition of PUPPY!!!!!! :D:D:D!!!!! PUUUUUUUPPY!!!!!!  and Mazel turned into the most aggressively maternal being I’ve ever met.  Playing with me on the blanket, sitting under my chair at meals (I was a messy eater), sleeping under my crib, teaching me to walk by letting me hang onto her fur and shuffle around.

Dr. Hamada thought mom was a madwoman, until he saw me holding Mazel’s mouth open and sticking my face in so i could look at her teeth.  He gave up when my mom announced she was pregnant with my sister.

I’m making living with a Wolfdog sound awesome, but it did come with some drawbacks:

  • Mazel did have to be muzzled at the vets, because she had Opinions about having things stuck up her butt.
  • HAIR.  One of my chores growing up was to brush her out every week and I’d frequently end up with more hair than animal.
  • the only way we could reliably get her to stay in the yard was with an overhead tether with a STEEL cable, which she chewed through anyway.
  • Do you like waking up by being hit in the face with half a dead animal? No? Wolfdogs may not be for you.
  • More than capable of opening the fridge and eating everything if you’re not watching
  • Will get into everything if not otherwise occupied.  Including eating your tax forms.
  • Howls along with sirens at 4 AM.

PROS of growing up with a wolfdog, as a small child in the 90′s

  • I was afforded a degree of freedom normally associated with a pokemon trianer. It was no big deal for me and my sister to walk three miles through my not-really-good neighborhood to the Froyo if I took Mazel with us. People tended to leave us alone when we had 100lbs of overprotective Apex Predator following us around.
  • WINNING at Pet Day at school.  There wasn’t actually a compettion but Billy’s hamster sucks in comparison to an animal that is perfectly willing to demonstrate how she can snap an oak branch in half on command.
  • PTA moms losing their shit because Mazel would walk down the block by herself to come pick ups up from school.
  • Grew up associating the word “Bitch” with teeth and the willingness to rip an asshole’s face off for being rude.  Never changed the definition.
  • Learned the I-Own-This Strut and Murder-Stare from the absolute best.

When she was 17, Mom and Dad decided to add another room on to the house.  They rigged up the overhead tether so she could be outside but not underfoot for the contruction guys.  One morning, mom came out to notice them all milling in the side yard entrance, muttering worriedly.  When mom asked what was wrong, one of them explained that Carlos forgot to bring the Hamburger.  What do you need a hamburger for?  Asked mom, and they pointed down the side yard to where Mazel was sitting, doing her best Viscious Alpha Bitch Stare.

Apparently they’d never realized that she was on the VERY end of her tether there and couldn’t actually get to them, and had been scamming them for a big mac a day for a month.  Mom had my six-year-old sister pull her away to show she wasn’t dangerous and tired her best not to laugh but kind of failed.

Mazel ended up living to be 19 and a half, and except for some minor arthritis, remarkably hale until the day she passed away in her hole in the back yard while taking a nap.  I maintain that Death had to wait until she was sleeping to get a crack at her, or she would’ve taken his scythe for a chew toy.

I never pranked my parents again after the incident.

by reddit user Eigengraulogy

I was 11 years old when it happened.

As a kid, I knew that something wasn’t quite right with the events that unfolded at the time. Even though it was never brought up again under any circumstances by either one of my parents, it’s something that always stuck with me. I can’t say it’s a memory that I tried to suppress seeing as it was always there at the back of my mind, bothering me like an itch that wouldn’t go away unless properly scratched.

Keep reading

It’s a [Tinder] Date! (Part 1/3)

Summary: Thinking he needs to find a date, Natasha signs Steve up to Tinder. In Queens, Peter Parker does the same to you. It’s a match! 

Word Count: 1,723

A/N: This is already planned out and written (in my head). I loved writing this.

Originally posted by imaginingbucky


Nat raised a brow, a mysterious curve to her smile. Steve was immediately suspicious. He felt his shoulders stiffen and his back straighten. He knew he looked like he had a stick up his ass, but he couldn’t help himself. Not when Natasha looked like the cat that had eaten the canary, and wanted to get caught.

“You left your phone on the coffee table,” she said. Her tone was relaxed, which made Steve more nervous.

His eyes narrowed. “What did you do, Romanoff?” he questioned, broad arms crossing over an equally-broad chest.

She merely shrugged before she turned her right-hand palm-up and relaxing it. Steve’s phone was revealed. “See for yourself.”

Keep reading

→ nudes, not flowers (pt. 1)

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

☆ pairing → Hoseok x reader x Jungkook

☆ genre → fuckboi!au, smut 

warning  public sex, slight voyeurism/exhibitionism, dirty talk, dom!junghope, demeaning names during sex if you aren’t into that, jealousy

☆ word count   → 5.5k

summary   → you’re not supposed to fall for Jung Hoseok and his repertoire of awful pick-up lines – but you do. the problem is: he’s afraid of commitment, and bolts at the idea of settling down. you decide to stay far away from fuckboys, but his friend decides to test your new found resolutions

or : Jungkook wants to see how far he can push Hoseok until he snaps 

→  pt i | pt ii

a/n  → …. why tf did i do this to myself!!! (this is just smut that i had to split into two parts rip)
anyways tagging @kstopping @gxtsmxt @thotmi bc nothing says i love you like a junghope smut am i right



Keep reading

And I Drove You Crazy (Bucky Barnes x Reader) One Shot ❤

A/N: hey y'all! This is most likely the most sinful thing I’ve ever written. I had to take some breaks while writing 😂 but this is dedicated to the lovely, super awesome @diving-down-to-wonderland for her birthday! (HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY HUN!) I hope you like it! ❤❤❤
- Delilah ❤

And I Drove You Crazy: Reader’s bike needs to be repaired asap, leading her to come across an insanely gorgeous mechanic whom she may or may not want to bang the second she lays eyes on him.

Warnings: SMUT! Semi-Public sex. Unprotected sex.

Keep reading

off limits | 01 (m)

pairing: kim seokjin x reader
genre/warnings: smut, dirty talk, dom! Jin, just dirty, dirty sex that my heart can’t take
words: 11,158
summary: you’ve been lusting after your brother’s best friend for a while now, ever since you met him at a house party, flirting it up a storm as you failed to realise who the other was. That was months ago now and things are still awkward, but you can’t ignore the sexual tension that’s simmers between the two of you…and it keeps getting worse…
note. the first of my requests!

» playlist | 01 | 02 | 03 |

Keep reading

Inexorable (2)

Plot: How does is feel to be arranged to be married to a cocky, arrogant Mafia leader? Once you look at his face, you think you’re lucky, but then he opens his mouth.

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst, (eventual) smut, Mafia au!

Notes: Welp, since so many of you asked for it, here is a part two!! There are two other stories which need a continuation as well, so I might keep requests closed for a while.. Sorry about that. I hope you don’t mind. Feel free to ask me questions, though! Ya’ll are so nice to me! 2,053 Words

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

The ride to the vacation home wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Your husband actually gave you the space you needed. There were brief glares exchanged between the two of you, a whole lot of drinking, and forced slumber – it was a 3 hour ride, after all. 

When the both of you had finally reached, the luggage was taken out by the bodyguards who had come along, and brought to your huge master bedroom. It was twice the size of your father’s office – if not, bigger – the bed was king-sized, and adorned with silk sheets. The walk-in wardrobe was already stacked with clothes for both sexes, making you wonder why you had even brought luggage in the first place.

“Too small, honestly,” Jungkook commented, plopping down on the couch by the fireplace. “My room is bigger than this.”

There he was, ruining the moment again. It was a good thing you were too exhausted to fight with him; but that didn’t mask over the fact that you still wanted to knock him out.

“Brat..” 

Keep reading

Come Here Little Girl

Word count: 2,366

Warning: SMUT, daddy kink, rough sex, slight bondage

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary/Request: Thank you @thedevilsbestie for your request!

On a hunt, Y/N is surprised to find out in such circumstances, a kink that she has – as is Dean. They try it out when they get back to the motel room.

“I am not doing that. No way!” You shouted through the motel room.
“Come on Y/N this is where he’s going to be and it’s probably our only chance to kill him.” Dean argued. “I have to go too.”
You snorted, “You get to wear clothes though, you don’t have to go in your fucking underwear!”
You had been on this case for the past two weeks trying to find the vampire that was terrorising the city, so of course you wanted to kill the son of a bitch. But the only problem was that he only showed his face once a fortnight at a club downtown. The club looked like your average sort of club from the outside but in reality it was invite only. Not only that but the invites were for men who had girlfriends and partners that would come along only in their underwear (or less) and then, “I don’t even want to think about what sort of stuff happens in that club at night.”

Keep reading

Undercover ~ BTS!Mafia AU Pt. 1

Thank you for 2,000! We hope you enjoy! - The Admins

Summary: Jeon Jungkook is the leader of a Mafia. He’s a drug lord, rich, and a murderer. And you? You’re just (Y/N). But to Jungkook you’re his everything, and he will do anything he can to keep you safe.

Type: A bit of everything

Warnings for this part: Guns, SMUT!, Blood, shitty fight scenes (i tried bro), language, drugs, angst

Group: BANGTAN BOYS

PART 2


You had just gotten off of work and headed over to Jimin’s place. You hadn’t talked to him all day and decided you’d pay him a surprise visit. You used your key to unlock the door and set your bag down on the small table next to it. 

You had barely taken a few steps into the house when you heard a moan, Jimin’s moan. ‘He’s probably masturbating’ You thought, it wasn’t the first time you had walked in on him jerking off. 

He did it when he was impatient and you’d always come home at just the right time to be able to help him. You smiled to yourself and slipped off your shoes before walking towards his door at the end of the hall.

As you went to grab the handle you heard another moan, a woman’s moan. ‘Is he watching porn?’ You thought and grabbed onto the knob. 

“Oh Jimin! Right there!” A woman cried, you could tell he was having sex with her, the noises of skin slapping got louder. 

You opened the door and saw a sight that you would never forget. A woman was underneath Jimin, her legs were out and he was thrusting into her quickly while letting out those grunts that made you so wet. But you were just disgusted. Hearing those noises made you want to puke. 

You watched in shock as he used a hand to grab onto her breast and squeeze her nipple while the other moved down and he used his thumb to rub her clit. His back was facing you and she had her eyes closed, she was moaning too loudly to even hear you walk into the room. 

She was right on the brink of her orgasm when you almost screamed. 

“REALLY JIMIN?!” He had one last snap of his hips that made her orgasm before he quickly pulled out and stared at you. You watched as she squirted all over him and the sheets and gagged. 

“Wait! (Y/N)!” He got up and followed you as you ran down the hallway. His dick was red and hard, standing against his lower stomach but that was the last of his worries. 

“I-I can explain.” He stuttered, surprised that he had been caught. This wasn’t the first time he was fucking another girl, this had been going on for a while. Hell, he had been having sex with multiple girls all at once, he had been getting bored of (Y/N). 

You shook your head and said nothing while tears streamed down your face, your hands shook as you grabbed your shoes and slid them on your feet. 

“(Y/N), listen.” His hand reached out to grab yours and you flinched and slapped his hand away. 

“Don’t touch me! Don’t…” You grabbed your bag and he ran a hand through his hair. 

“Please! Let me talk.” You could barely see clearly from the tears in your eyes. 

“No, I don’t wanna hear it.” You opened the door and ran down the hallway to the elevator, quickly closing the doors before Jimin could make it to you. 

You ran out of the apartment complex, barely making it out of the doors before throwing up on the grass. Everything you had eaten came up and you were dizzy while walking to your car. 

You took a minute and wiped away your tears and went home, never speaking a word to Park Jimin again.

5 months had passed since you’d said a word to Jimin. You came back the next day, collected all of your things you had left at his place, giving him back the shirts you took from him and walked passed him and didn’t look back. 

3 months after he had cheated, you went on a date with Jungkook and things went on from there. You had met Jungkook through Jimin and became your best friend. Whenever you and Jimin argued, you’d step outside and call Jungkook, letting out all of your problems. 

You haven’t had sex since the last time you and Jimin had slept together and that was nearly 3 weeks before you caught him cheating. 

Jungkook was rich, but you weren’t dating him for the money. When you met him, he looked like complete shit. Hair messy and unwashed, his eyes were bloodshot and he had bags underneath them. His shirt was wrinkled and he had dried up tears on his face. He walked in on you and Jimin watching a movie and told Jimin about how his girlfriend had broken up with him. 

He asked you on a date when you were complaining about being tired of being alone. You were tired of staying in bed all the time, crying because of your heartbreak. But Jungkook, he was everything you wanted and more. 

Jimin was great at first, but near the end of your relationship, you barely talked to each other anymore. 

Jungkook made you feel special, he got you what you want and simply asked for your love in return. You made it clear to him that you didn’t want the money, he was what you wanted. 


And now you were here today. 

Another day on the job. You lead another family to a table and handed them their menu’s. A dad, and two children. You politely smiled and rejected him when he asked you out on a date, stating you had a boyfriend. 

He smiled in understanding and proceeded to talk to his children. ‘If only more people here were like that’ you thought to yourself while going to hand their orders to the chef. 

Most of the men that went here were with their girlfriends and snuck over you on their way to the bathroom, trying to cop a feel. 

A few girls had even hit on you before, they stared and bit their lips, admiring your body from head to toe. But you also rejected, again stating you had a boyfriend. 

When your shift was over, you said goodnight to everyone and made your way home to your apartment. You said hello to the friendly old lady who was working on opening her door, her poor old shaky hands struggling with putting the key in the hole. You watched as she walked in and then walked into your apartment. You turned on the lights and kicked off your shoes, stretching before laying down on your couch. 

You pulled your phone out of your pocket and read the text messages from your friends and quickly replied before shooting a text message to Jungkook. 

‘Just got off work. How was your day?’ 


Jungkook was currently at one of his clubs with Jimin, Yoongi, and Namjoon. Jimin was dealing cocaine, laughing and joking around with one of their clients. Jungkook was sat in a chair, silently watching everyone closely. 

Yoongi had a girl on his lap, she was grinding against him while they made out. Music was blaring and some other people were dancing. 

Hoseok was in another room, having sex with one of his usual girls. When the DJ would switch the songs, you could hear their moans, she was literally screaming. 

Jungkooks phone vibrated when he noticed something odd. One of his clients had a gun tucked into his belt, which was strictly against the rules. No one but Jungkook and a few others were allowed to carry a gun on them while at the clubs. 

Jungkook got up and walked over to Jimin, putting his hand on his shoulder and tapping his finger 3 times. This was their signal. Jimin shrugged his arm off of his shoulder and when they made eye contact, Jungkook’s hand made it’s way to his gun. 

Jimin’s hand reached into his pocket and wrapped around the handle of a knife and by this time their ‘clients’ had noticed what they were doing. 

In a second, guns were raised. 

Yoongi and the girl had broken up, he was stood next to her, gun raised and she had one in her hand also. Namjoon was aimed at the one who was aiming at Yoongi. 

Jimin made the first move and quickly stabbed his knife into the man’s gut that was standing behind him. His arm shot up, hitting his arm so the gun went off and the bullet went into the ceiling. 

Jungkook quickly shot the next two, one of their bullets grazing his shoulder. Namjoon, Yoongi, Jimin, and the other female shot at a few other people. Jungkook shot at their leader but missed. 

He knocked the gun out of Jungkooks hand and he was just left with his hands. The man named Sooyoung stabbed the knife into Jungkook’s thigh, and Jungkook yelled at the pain. 

Jungkook punched him in the jaw knocking Sooyoung back. Jimin had just finished pulling his knife out of the chest of another man and threw it at Sooyoung, and it landed in his shoulder. 

Blood was soaking Jungkooks pant leg as he pushed Sooyoung down to the ground and straddled his waist so he couldn’t move. He pulled the knife out of his shoulder and stabbed him right in his chest. 

Sooyoung’s white dress shirt was soaked with blood and Jungkook got off of him, wiping his forehead but smearing blood on it. Jimin opened the door and yelled for everyone to get out so he and the others stayed behind to clean. 

“Jungkook, what happened?” Yoongi asked, looking over his body. 

“Stab wound to my thigh, I think that’s it.” He replied while staring at the dying body below him. Sooyoung coughed and tried to reach for a gun that was laying on the ground but Jungkook kicked it away with his foot and the remaining life left in Sooyoung slipped away. 

Jungkook took a seat and Namjoon already knew what to do. His hand wrapped around the handle tightly and the other pushed on Jungkook’s thigh. 

“Three.. Two..” Namjoon didn’t even get to one before he pulled the knife out and immediately started applying pressure. 

“Fuck!” Jungkook yelled and grabbed onto the arms of the chair. Namjoon’s hands were covered with blood and he bit his lip as Jungkook struggled to stay conscious. Yoongi grabbed onto Jungkook’s sleeve and ripped it so he could tie it around his thigh tightly. 

“I need to see (Y/N),” Jungkook said standing up and using the wall to stay stable. 

“What Jungkook? No, you need medical attention.” Namjoon said, stepping in front of the door. 

“Let me see (Y/N)!” He said sternly before pushing Namjoon out of the way and limping out to his ride. He paid someone to drive him to her apartment and by the time he arrived it was 2 in the morning. 


A tired (Y/N) opened the door and she was in one of his t-shirts. “Jungkook?” You gasped and pulled him inside quickly. 

“What happened?“ 

”(Y/N), I need help.“ He avoided your question and you led him into the bathroom and slowly stripped him of his clothes. 

He sat there in his boxers as you wiped away the blood from him and grabbed your first-aid kit from underneath the sink. You used some alcohol to clean where the bullet grazed his shoulder and you almost cried when you saw his thigh. 

“Jesus.” You whispered and very slowly dabbed the alcohol onto it in which Jungkook tried his best not to yell. 

“I need stitches.” He could barely speak and you nodded and grabbed a needle and thread and tried the best you possibly could. 

When you were finished, Jungkook was laid in your bed and you were cleaning the blood in the bathroom. 

“You doing okay?” You asked when you stepped back into the room. 

“For now.” He nodded, the pain meds were finally kicking in. 

“Now, tell me what the fuck happened to you.“ 

He said nothing.

You crossed your arms over your chest and looked patiently at Jungkook.

“Look Jun-”

Wrong

Originally posted by lumos025

Summary: Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung bullied you in high school and by some sick joke the universe was playing on you, 2 years later Jungkook was attending the same University as you. Even sicker joke was being stuck with him doing a project on ‘Sex in Cinema’ for a whole semester. Go figure.

Words: 8083

Warnings: Smut, a lot of dirty talk holy shit (I can’t help it), oral, masturbation, overstimulation.

2 years earlier:

You walked down the road, almost around midnight, trying to get home as fast as possible the chilly rainy weather. Not to mention the truck that was trailing behind you and the screams and shouts of “wait up thunder thighs!” and “stop running away like a little bitch!” coming from the 3 boys who occupied it. Wrapping your arms around yourself to feel just an ounce of warmth, you willed yourself to ignore these bastards and walk faster. ‘I’m almost home, I’m almost home’ repeating it like a mantra in your head. Really, it was a stupid idea to think that you could enjoy a last high school party with your friends who were the complete opposite of you. After all, when the three most popular boys of the school were determined to make your life a living hell, why would anyone else want to treat you different in this extremely cliché scenario. It was hard to pinpoint what exactly was it about you that made them hate you so much.

From the time that you can remember, and you remembered a lot, Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook had always despised you. It’s like they couldn’t stand your existence. When you would be at the library helping out by staying late, they would wait after school, yes they would go out of their way to stay at school longer, to make sure that your walk home was as stressful as possible. Making fun of pretty much anything and everything you did was a normal occurrence. You had just learned to live with it, but not today.

You suddenly started to slow your pace. They are cowards, you thought. What can they possibly do? Always taunting, always calling names, always making you feel shit about anything you took interest in. But they were all talk, right? You thought, huffing out. People like them walk in groups because they can’t actually do anything alone. You don’t know what came over you, but you suddenly stopped and turned around slowly. The truck that the boys were trailing behind you also slowed and stopped a few meters away.

The one driving was Jimin, while Taehyung sat beside him and Jungkook stood, head poking out of the truck’s opening in the ceiling. You stood defiantly, shaking from the growing rain, your hair soaked and hands tightly by your side. Silently daring them to charge the truck towards you. ‘They won’t do it, they’re cowards’ you thought, your confidence growing slowly. You couldn’t tell where this adrenaline rush had come from to give you such courage to finally stand your ground, just a few weeks away from graduation. You could see Taehyung’s cunning, and terrifyingly psychotic grin widening as he relentlessly whispered in Jimin’s ear, whose grip on the wheel was tightening as he looked you right in the eyes. Jungkook was laughing. He apparently found the situation so amusing, that you decided now to grow a spine and challenge them. Suddenly, the sound of the engine revving was as loud as the rain.

It all went pretty much downhill from there. The last thing you remembered was your too loud heartbeat, the bright flash from the truck and Jungkook’s face suddenly forming a horrified expression as if he wasn’t just laughing at you.

Present day:

You weren’t looking for him specifically among the crowd flooding into the lecture hall. But something did happen inside you when you spotted him. A kind of lightness, or a lifting of some heavy part of yourself. Everything was settling into a nice, normal routine. You were going about your daily lives in an ordinary manner, and you were doing it completely separately.

He sat in the fourth row, and you sat at the back. Only now there was no rising sense of dread. You didn’t keep your hand to yourself when the lecturer asked a question. You answered, without the background sound of someone snickering. And even when it felt as though he was looking at you, when you snuck a glance at him you only ever saw the back of his head.

He bent low over his notes, and his head occasionally lifted a little as he really listened to whatever the lecturer was saying. Once or twice you actually caught him nodding, or doing a little staggered-looking half laugh over some ridiculous concept. As if he loved it all now.

He loved it so much he was sometimes at the lectures early. You would come in with Y/B/F, still giggling over something ridiculous, and get the faint prickle that told you he was already there. Only now when it happened it didn’t make you want to cover yourself up, or run and hide. There was nothing to hide from. Everything was going to be super cool and totally fine from here on in. Or it would have been, if it were not for the group project. The one that you were so excited for that you didn’t process it when your lecturer started reading out the names. You would be working with Y/B/F—that was a given. You were going to watch ridiculously filthy movies together and laugh about bobbing butts and ogle Ewan McGregor’s penis.

And then you heard his name.

Followed by yours.

Distantly, like in a dream of being in class.

“Miss Y/L/N, do you have a problem with that assignment?”

Everyone was looking at you now. No—not just looking. Examining, as though You had become a new and baffling species. The girl who was not excited about the idea of spending a whole semester with Jungkook. The creature who seemed horrified at the prospect of working with him. It made it difficult to do anything at all, even with Y/B/F urging you to say yes, yes I do have a fucking problem. Though you still didn’t expect the shake of your head to happen. Just one little accidental shake of your head and that was it. Your lecturer moved on to his next victim, leaving you in something You once had a nightmare about in ninth grade. Working with Jungkook. On a semester-long project.

About sex in cinema.

“Don’t worry, we can fix this. Just go to his office and talk to him privately about it. He would have to be Satan himself to not understand,” You heard Y/B/F whisper. But the words seemed even further away than you name had when your lecturer read it out.

“Right. Right. Yeah. You’re right.”

“I can come with you if you want.”

“No, that’s okay. That’s fine.”

“Are you sure? You look like you’ve been punched. In the face. With a small nuclear blast.”

“I’m sure,” You said, but soon came to regret that firmness in your voice. The steady nod that told Y/B/F it was okay for you to go in a different direction once you were outside. It only meant that you were on your own when you got to the tiny hallway outside your lecturer’s door.

And saw that Jungkook was already waiting. Of course he was—he probably had the same concerns as you. No matter how sorry he was or what he thought of being in the red and being wrong, he would never want to work in close quarters with you for the entire semester. In fact, him being sorry likely made the situation seem worse to him. Most likely he had calculated all the awkward conversations you guys would have to have and how far apart he would have to stand to keep you comfortable, and found it as unbearable as you did.

Even though his expression seemed to say something else.

Oh god. His expression was saying something else.

Then he held up his hands, as though to calm you.

And you knew.

“All right, Y/N, I know that you’re probably thinking it’s way better if you do this project with that gal pal of yours, but wait, okay? I got reasons why this is gonna be fine.”

“Is that seriously why you’re here? To stop me asking to switch us?”

“Well…no. Not stop you exactly. Stop is a really strong word.”

“While I’m glad you’ve learned that—” You said, your voice briefly catching when you saw his wince. He winced, your mind hissed, before you forced yourself to finish. “I still think it covers what’s happening here.”

“I just wanted to talk to you about it for a second. Just, like, hear me out.”

“I want to. I really do. But come on. You know I wasn’t born yesterday. This has all the hallmarks of some kind of trap or prank or joke at my expense.”

“How could it possibly be a trap or prank? He put people together based on…I don’t even know what he put people together based on. But it couldn’t have had anything to do with me.”

You searched his face, looking for the lie. Waiting for him to show some hint of bullshit, beneath those too-kind eyes and his spread hands and the obvious logic of what he was saying.

Only there was nothing, nothing, nothing.

And it made no difference at all.

“Okay, I buy that. I do. Yet the fact still remains: I cannot do a project with you. Ever. You have to know that doing anything like that is completely impossible for me. Right?”

“I was just thinking that maybe…maybe you could give it a chance. You know, now that we’re on speaking terms and everything is almost cool between us.”

“You think everything is cool between us?”

“Well, maybe not cool exactly. More like…okay.”

“Still need to dial it back a notch, chief.”

“Reasonable? Not bad? Kind of semi decent?”

“That last one is getting close.”

He sighed, shoulders sagging.

Relenting, you thought. He’s actually relenting.

“Fine, we are a fucking disaster.”

“Now you’re getting the idea,” You said.

“But I figure we can work on it.”

“By doing a project on sex in the cinema together?”

“Well,” he said. “When you put it like that it sounds dumb.”

“There’s no other way to put it! That is literally what you’re suggesting.”

“Yeah, I get that. I just…want to not get that. I want it to be easier or better or just not the way this is.”

“That could have been my daily prayer in high school, Jungkook.”

He didn’t react the way you expected to, with more weird arguing.

He just closed his eyes.

He closed them like someone had just told him his family had been in a fatal accident.

“I wish I could go back and start over again. More than wish—I would give everything I have to start over again. The wrestling, this scholarship, every party I ever went to and every fun thing I ever did. And you can choose to not believe me about that, but—”

“I believe you.”

“You do?”

“I’m as surprised as you are, but yeah.”

“Then why does this have to be such a big deal?”

You thought of Y/B/F saying attempted murder.

“Y/N that is fucking attempted murder. Babe, you don’t have to feel bad about anything you put him through now. His friends and him included, ran you over with a fucking truck. How much physio and other therapy sessions did you have to go through because of them, huh?”

The terror that used to flood you when he walked down the hall.

That ever-present sensation of a grille barrelling into your body.

“Because understanding that someone is truly sorry and wanting to spend huge amounts of time with them are two different things. I might see that you mean this, and know rationally that I can almost sort of trust you. Maybe I even want it to be that easy, too. But your face is the one I had nightmares about for two years. Your smile doesn’t seem happy to me. I associate it with cruelty.”

You shook your head. Glanced away from him so you didn’t have to see the defeated look on his face.

“It’s hard for me to look at you, Jungkook, no matter how much I appreciate what you’ve done here.”

“That was a really well-thought-out and logically sound speech.”

“I know it was. I’m pretty proud.”

“And I have no argument against it.”

“You don’t need one. What you’ve done here…” You gritted your teeth hard and looked at the ceiling. But this time it didn’t stop the tears. They were already welling up by the time You explained the rest to him.

“It means a lot. And a million men would never have done the same, I can promise you. I don’t have any messages from Jimin on my phone. Taehyung isn’t going to call anytime soon. It’s just you, a rare fantasy in the middle of all this dismal reality.”

He turned around when you were done. All the way around—and then his arms went up to cover his head and you understood. What you said had affected him, strongly. Maybe more than his words had affected you. It took him twice as long to get it together, and even after he had he couldn’t quite look at you. He just kept staring at the wall and clenching his jaw.

And saying things. Oh yeah, he said things, in a strained, shaky voice.

“I meant what I said, you know. That you are the very best.”

“I know. That’s why I’m going to ask you not to say it again.”

“I can’t stop. I have the opposite of whatever idiocy infected me in high school.”

“What, like insane-need-to-compliment fever?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” he said.

“Well it has taken a raging hold of you, let me tell you.”

“I know it seriously cannot be stopped.”

“I think you have a terminal case.”

“Not a bad way to go, if you ask me,” he said, so soft and sincere it took all your strength to stop yourself smiling in response. You could feel your lips trembling. Your cheeks ached with the effort of pinning them down, yet still You knew you were failing. You could see it in his satisfied expression.

And hear it in his words.

“That’s better. Seeing you look happy.”

“I am happy,” You said, then added without thinking: “Are you?”

Of course you didn’t mean anything by it. It was just a polite habit, based on interactions with people other than Jungkook. People who had actual problems, who lived troubled lives, who might answer with a god no. Jungkook would never need to answer with a god no. His life was full of endless possibilities and unfettered glory. He could snap his fingers and have a thousand people follow him to the ends of the earth.

He even looked that way, in the dim light of the narrow hallway between these offices.His hair was the colour of dark chocolate. Every item of clothing suited him perfectly, from the rich grey-blue of his V-neck to the jeans he’d tucked into his timberlands. He exuded cool from every pore; he could have stepped off the cover of a magazine. Yet all you could see was his face as it slowly sagged. It was like watching someone cut the strings that had held a mask in place—a mask you hadn’t known he was wearing. You thought that smiling golden god who had tormented you was the real him, but for a second you couldn’t be sure. Just for one heart-rattling second, and then the door to the office opened and that glimpse of something else was gone—so fast You would imagine later that it had never existed. It was just a trick of the light.

Better to focus on the real and the now.

“What can I do for you two today?” Professor asked.

Then you took a breath and answered.

“Nothing,” You said.

A few weeks later:

After that day, you didn’t know how or why you suddenly decided to give working with him a try, but so far, it was going…. okay. You two met up at the library, took your notes, glancing at each other once in a while, mostly Jungkook, asking each other questions relevant to your awkward topic given the situation and that was that. He made jokes sometimes that managed to get out a few carefree laughs out of you as well. It was all… comfortable. Nothing that you had expected. That is why, you decided, it was time to move on to watching actual movies for references, in your project.

It was nearly one in the morning, on a Wednesday night when you went to get him as your friend was out and that was the only time Jungkook was free after wrestling practice. Everyone was in bed, and it gave an eerie feeling to your journey back to your dorm.

As did his silence.

He was always talking—You realized that then. Sometimes he practically kept up a running commentary on everything and anything, yet here he was as quiet as stone. And it wasn’t because he was exerting himself. He didn’t breathe hard once the whole time. He could have been carrying a backpack full of air. But the idea of mental trouble lingered. When you tilted your head a little, you could practically hear his mind going over and over things, in a way that just wasn’t like him. He was easy-going. Happy-go-lucky. He never worried about things the way you did.

Until now.

“Jungkook, are you okay?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. You just seem a little…”

Like an ominous statue of yourself.

“I was just thinking what movie we should watch.”

“Oh. Oh. You mean…right now?” You asked.

“Well, that’s what you came to get me for.”

“That’s true, I did come and get you for that.”

“Unless you don’t want me in your room so late.”

“No, no why would I…no, that’s cool.”

“You’re in the Jubilee Building, right?”

You had the strongest urge to ask him how he knew. But that seemed just as weird as objecting to him being in your room.

“Yeah. You just go past the science block and then—”

“Right, right, right I got it, I got it. The statue of Heo Nanseolheon is outside it, yeah?”

“That’s the one. Then it’s the third floor. Don’t worry though, there’s an elevator.”

“Ah, it wouldn’t have been a big deal.”

“Do you wanna let me unlock the door?” you asked standing behind him when you both reached your dorm.

“Oh shit, yeah. Yeah, go ahead,” he said moving his bulky body out of the way as you slid past him to unlock the door. Everything had returned to the way it should be now between you and Jungkook.

Except for the sexy movie you were now going to watch.

Alone. Together. On your bed. In the middle of the night.

You let him pick the movie, thinking that would make things easier somehow. Nothing could be misconstrued, at least, that way. He wouldn’t think you meant anything by your choice, whatever it might be. But you forgot that he might mean something with his choice. You watched the heroine trying to clumsily pick up the hero at the start of White Palace, and cringed so hard it felt more like a cramp in your gut. Your cheeks grew hot, in a way that made you grateful for the dim light of your feeble bedside lamp.

Otherwise he would see your face go red and know you understood his point—despite the fact that his point was fucking nonsense.

“This is even less realistic than Dirty Dancing.”

“Really? You think so? Like, in what way?” You asked.

“It just seems like she keeps pushing and pushing. No woman would push a guy that good-looking if he didn’t seem into it. I can’t think of anything more embarrassing.”

You didn’t look at him, but knew he shrugged.

His arm rubbed against yours as he did it.

“Maybe she doesn’t care.”

“I guess not.”

“Maybe she knows he’s actually into it.”

“That could be one explanation.” Jungkook says, sighing.

“Plus she obviously gets exactly what she was looking for.” He adds.

Onscreen, Susan Sarandon was going down on James Spader.

Which to you didn’t seem to back up his point at all.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure she’s having a great time getting absolutely nothing out of this.”

“That’s what this looks like to you? Like she’s getting nothing out of this?”

“Well, in movies they make it look like she is. But I doubt she really would be.”

“You doubt that giving a guy a blow job could be enjoyable for a woman.”

You glanced at him then, just to see if his expression was as incredulous as his voice.

Then had to look back at the screen quickly. If anything, his expression was worse. He had one eyebrow raised, and there was almost no humour in his eyes. This was serious somehow. Much too serious.

“I don’t know. I mean it’s not really something you do for your own enjoyment. You do it for his.”

“So to you there’s nothing pleasurable about it. Nothing sexy about having a guy at your mercy. Begging you, moaning for you, trying not to push too deep when it gets too good.”

Your breath hitched.

“You do those things?”

The words came out too fast. Too disbelieving, too.

But You just couldn’t stop them. They ripped out of you before you had time to talk it over with you mind, all ragged around the edges and maybe a little breathless. Just enough that he likely heard it, and wondered why. You couldn’t tell him, however. You didn’t know yourself. You only knew that when he started talking again, you had the urge to put your fingers in your ears.

“Of course I do those things. Having your cock sucked is fucking amazing,” he said, which was absolutely fine.

But then he kept going.

He kept going.

“The heat and the slickness and her looking up at you as she works it with her hands and lips and tongue. Especially the tongue. The tongue is the best part. Watching it curl right around the—”

“Well, okay, it sounds cool when you put it that way.”

God your voice sounded loud. And too fast again, too. All your words practically jumbled together.

“I don’t know what other way it could possibly be.”

“How about hold still while I fuck your face? Some guy coming right in your eye? Losing a chunk of hair because he pulled too hard?”

“You’re not serious. Tell me honestly. None of that happened.”

Now his voice was bright with amusement. But it didn’t make you feel any better.

“All of that happened. To me. More than once.”

“Yeah but after…”

“After what?”

“After he came then he…”

He made a circle with his hand bobbing his head, as though you should know that one thing logically followed on from the other. It was all completely easy and obvious.

Instead of the hardest quiz you had ever had to get through. “Then he what? Gave me cab fare?”

“No. No. After that then this happens.”

You glanced at the thing he was pointing at.

Then had to look away again, quick. At your hands, at the bedspread.

At him, as he oh-so-slowly realized what your sudden awkwardness meant.

“This has never happened to you. Holy shit. You’ve never had a guy go down on you.”

“I have had a guy go down on me. I totally have.”

“Are you sure about that? You don’t look sure.”

“Well, maybe not like this.”

“There’s no other way to do it. This is actually the most basic, ordinary way to go about eating pussy.”

At those words, you could feel the fire burning on your cheeks and your breathing getting laboured. Jungkook really had no filter.

“Yeah, but this seems really exciting and sexy and hot.”

“Going down on a girl is really exciting and sexy and hot. Like I said about giving a guy head? Exactly the same principle. You get to see you writhe and shake and push herself against your mouth. Just like that, just like Sarandon is doing. Look at her. Look at her.”

“I am. I am looking,” You said, but You weren’t, not really.

You were thinking of the shiver that had gone through you when he said look, soft as butter and so oddly tender. And the way that he was looking himself, eyes almost far away.

Like he was seeing Sarandon, but putting someone else in her place.

“Think about how it must feel.”

“Yeah I can…I get that…”

“Think about his tongue slowly easing over her soft folds.”

“Is that…how…is that what you…” You said, breathlessly “Uh-huh.”

“And it works?”

You voice was a whisper now. But that was okay. His was, too. It was so low he had to lean close to ask you questions. He had to meet your gaze, and You had to meet his.

“What works?”

“It makes you…you know. Cum.”

“Oh yeah. But you gotta take your time.”

“I see. I guess that makes sense.” You were just babbling now, trying to keep up with him.

“Let it build, nice and slow. Start by just stroking her with your fingertips. Work her, you know, until her lips part. And then when she’s all open to you, you just trace the shape of her with your tongue. Lick and lick in these ever decreasing circles until you’re right…fucking…there.”

“Where? Where…where are you?”

You shouldn’t have asked. You knew you shouldn’t as soon as it was out. Your faces were too close together now, and his body seemed to be looming over yours. That was his shoulder, almost nudging your chin. And his thigh, pressing deep and hard into yours. His answer was never going to make any of this better.

Then it came, hotter than molten lava and twice as destructive.

“Her clit. Her slick, swollen clit.”

“I see. That makes sense,” You said, even though that wasn’t what you wanted to go with.

No, what you wanted to go with was more like oh my fucking God this can’t be reality.

“Then you just…stroke it.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Until she’s mindless.”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

“Doesn’t even know what she’s saying anymore, or doing. She might tell you to bite, to fuck her with your tongue and fingers, harder or faster or some word that doesn’t even make sense. Hips coming up to meet you, greedy for it, horny for it, so horny she barely notices that her hand is in your hair and she’s squeezing tight enough for it to sting, so close to coming that her whole body is shuddering and shivering and flushing that deep, good pink. Soon as you see it you just know she’s burning. That her clit is aching and throbbing and her pussy is all open and slippery, and one more second of this will make her come. She’s already coming, before you even know where you’re at. Hard, hard, hard, like she never has before.”

You were holding your breath by the time he was done. You practically had to—his face was so close now you could have blinked and brushed his cheek with your eyelashes. Every word he said seemed to stroke against your face, cool at first but then more heated. As though he was starting to boil alive inside, too. Certainly he looked that way. You have never seem him flushed like this, not even when he pushed himself during a match.

Not even when he was embarrassed.

Though you supposed that wasn’t a common occurrence. He didn’t seem to be embarrassed now, and he’d just said all those words. He said clit and pussy and slippery, as if that was just a normal way to talk to your friend. And he did it all without flinching, too. Without glancing away or putting some distance between you. In fact, those eyes of his—now heavy lidded and so soft focus—seemed intent on you more than they ever had been before. They skittered all over you face, searching for something you had no idea how to give.

You didn’t even know what the something was.

You only knew that it made you forget yourself, just as he had described.

It made you search his face back, marvelling over every brutish line and gentle curve. Those lips of his, as plump as a girl’s yet so masculine at the same time. Every inch of them gleaming, as if he’d slicked them with gloss in anticipation of a kiss. Though even in that moment you didn’t really believe you wanted that. Until he whispered, low and heavy against your own lips.

“You can, you know.”

“Can what?”

“Touch yourself.”

It jolted you, when he said it.

But not as much as realizing why he said it.

You followed his gaze down, and took in the unmistakable sight of your hand in your lap. Really, really high up in your lap. Almost between your legs, in fact—though that was fine, it was cool, it was okay. You stuttered ‘no, no I didn’t really want to do that’, but it didn’t matter.

Because his hand was actually between his legs.

“I do,” he said.

As the whole world as You knew it dissolved right in front of your eyes.

“You do?”

“Fuck, yes. I’m dying to.”

“Because of the film. Because of the movie.”

“Sure. We can say that, if you want.”

You closed your eyes. Swallowed thickly.

Wished hard that he hadn’t added that last part.

“If we could that would be awesome.”

“No problem. I mean it was probably inevitable that this would happen to us.”

“Probably, yeah. Almost definitely, in fact.”

“Just a natural response to a sexy movie.”

“Seems that way to me.”

“So you just slip your hand under your waistband, and I’ll slip my hand under mine,” he said, which was fine all on its own. The problem was that he then went ahead and did it. You tried not to look, but saw anyway. You saw the way he fumbled in his haste, as though all his talk was only calm on the surface. Underneath, something was paddling frantically. It was making his cheeks pink and his body all trembly.

And his dick hard. God, his cock was hard.

You could see that without even trying at all. The curving shape beneath his sweatpants was enormous and unmistakable, and even if it hadn’t been, his hand made it pretty clear. As You watched, he eased it over that solid length, before finally clasping it in a way that shoved the swollen head right up against the tented material. Now You could make out ruder details, like the thick ridge around the head, and the slit at the tip. Both pronounced, explicit, rude.

But that wasn’t what really got you.

It was the way he stopped to lick his palm, before shoving it

under his waistband.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god, are you serious?”

“It’s cool. it’s fine. We don’t even have to look at each other.”

“No I guess not. I guess…I guess that I can just watch the screen.”

“We’re just two people getting off over a hot movie.”

“Exactly. Exactly.”

But that wasn’t strictly true. You weren’t getting off over the movie at all. Nothing was even happening anymore—it was just rich people looking down their noses and arguments over a Dust buster. If anything, it was vaguely depressing, rather than lust-inducing. Yet still You sat there, face burning, body tender and rigid all at the same time. Half of you stuffed so full of embarrassment and shock you sort of wanted to block everything out, the other half just shamelessly straining to hear every single tiny sound he made. Never daring to look, of course, but then…

You really didn’t need to.

He made so much noise that you could make out almost everything. Every little moan and gasp—and there were a lot of them, too. Lots of thick, guttural moans that started on an ah and ended with a kind of abrupt sigh, as though a knife had sliced through his throat before he could finish. So many soft mmms and gasps, like he honestly couldn’t get enough of whatever he was doing.

Though it was the whispers that hit you hardest. They got you right in the gut, low down and deep enough to ache. Oh yeah, he murmured, as though the hottest sex in the world was happening onscreen. As though they were fucking like animals, up and down and left and right. His tone even sounded sort of tremulous, and it got more intense as time went on. Soon he was panting, and rocking, and every now and then uttering something he was clearly imagining himself doing.

“Ah, yeah, suck my cock, just like that,” he said.

Then just to make it extra agonizing, he spat into his hand.

To make it extra slick, you thought, like someone’s mouth. Someone sucking him the way he’d described, slow and steady until he was actually shuddering, right here and now. The bed was moving, at least, and it wasn’t because he was working that cock hard. He wasn’t. He was going slow, so slow, squeezing and rolling rather than the short, fast kind of thing You’d always thought guys did. They almost never seemed to do anything else in porn…but then again they never did all this other stuff, too. You dared to turn you head a little more and saw to your astonishment that he had his hand pressed to his mouth. He was almost biting his fist, chest heaving, body shivering all over—but most important, eyes closed.

He couldn’t even see you looking. You were free to do as you pleased.Yet something held you back. You couldn’t seem to do more than peek out of the corner of you eye, and even that made you feel strange. You kept getting this clenching sensation—sort of like embarrassment or humiliation—and it got worse when his back arched. When he actually said out loud that he was almost there, that he was so close, that he was gonna come all over your duvet. I need something to do it on, he said, and even that had a shameful frisson of its own. You had a brief flash of him kneeling up and suddenly coming all over your face, or maybe pulling down that ridiculously large neck hole to expose your breasts.

Followed by an image of that thick white liquid coating you, striping you face, dripping off your tight little nipples. Him pushing his cock past your lips to finish off, groaning as he flooded your mouth.

And he would have flooded it, too. You glanced at him just in time to see him shove his sweatpants down, that big dick swelling under the pressure of his too-tight grip. Thick ribbons of come already hitting his bared belly, over and over until you were sure he must be done. He had to be, yet more kept flowing over his still-working fist. You watched it run down over his fingers in slippery trails before pooling in his lap.

Though none of it was what you kept seeing behind your eyes in the aftermath. Instead, you saw the way his face had looked as he shot his load. The open mouth, and the closed eyes, and most of all the strange, wrenching vulnerability that had covered him for a moment. No mischief, no macho bullshit—just a completely open and abandoned sort of ecstasy.

And all of it for you.

He knew you had watched him. He still knew now. You flicked your eyes back to the screen as he started to catch his breath, but the first thing he did was include you.

“Guess I kind of made a mess here,” he said, everything about his tone suggesting two conspirators, finishing off their evil deed. You even got up after he’d said it, to get him a tissue.

Though when You got back he’d pretty much taken care of most of it.

You stopped in the doorway to the bathroom at the sight: Him, casually licking his messy fingers.

It took you a good two minutes after that to go over to him, with your fistful of toilet paper. And when you did go, it was on very shaky legs. Your whole body felt shaky, in fact—though not in any way you’d experienced before. This was like being full to the brim with something burning hot, skin so close to ripping that it couldn’t keep still. Sometimes you thought you could see it shivering slightly under the strain, and every inch of it was tender, so tender. His leg brushed yours as you sat down, and it was agony. You even winced—then immediately regretted it.

He had been concentrating on clean-up. Now he looked up at you sharply.

And asked questions You were loathing to answer.

“Have you…not? I mean have you not—”

“I couldn’t. I’m sorry, I couldn’t.”

“God, you must be bursting.”

“Honestly, I’m fine.”

The problem was though; you didn’t seem fine.

You couldn’t meet his gaze. Your hands were fists on your thighs.

And of course he could see all of that.

“You look like you’re bursting.”

“Oh yeah? And what does bursting look like?”

“Your voice is shaking.”

“Is it?” You asked, voice so light it almost passed.

Almost, almost, almost.

“Your cheeks are flushed.”

“Are they?”

“And then there’s the fact that your nipples are like diamonds. Fuck, look how stiff they are. Isn’t that agonizing, having them like that? I bet your clit’s the same. Bet your pussy is so wet. So wet you’re making a mess of the nice, clean clothes.”

Your cheeks grew hotter and hotter as he whispered each word. By the time he was done they felt like they were going to melt right off you face. That tense, cringing feeling in your stomach was ten times worse, and that was before he got to the last point. The one about the clothes, and the mess, and oh god what if he was right? It felt as if he might be. You weren’t wearing any underwear, and everything was really slippery between your legs. You could feel it, every time You moved.

“Oh fuck, sorry, sorry I don’t…I hope…it’s just that—” You didn’t even know why you were apologizing

“Honey, you don’t need an explanation.”

His tone was like sinking into a warm bath—and the thumb you could feel stroking over you forearm only pulled you deeper down. He just did it so idly. So like he wasn’t touching you at all.

Before you knew it, you were up to your ears in liquid heat.

“Are you sure? Because it kind of feels like I do.”

“I’m sure. I mean, the movie was pretty intense.”

“Right, exactly. Super intense.”

“So why deny yourself?”

“I’m not…denying…anything.”

“I could leave, if you want.”

“No, god no,” You said, too fast and too fierce.v

Though it was only afterward that you realized how it sounded: Not like someone trying to say you didn’t want to masturbate. Like someone saying that you wanted him to stay.

And he took it that way, too.

“Or, you know. I could just…do it for you,” he said.

Then you just had to do your best not to go out of your mind.

You stopped herself from jumping up. Kept your hands from flailing.

Didn’t look at him, in case looking made you do something crazy.

“Oh my god. You can’t be serious. You can’t be serious.”

“Probably wouldn’t take a lot.”

“I always take a lot.”

“Even when you’re alone?”

“Especially when I’m alone.”

“Well, maybe we should see about that.”

Again, you had the urge to get up. Maybe you even would have, if it hadn’t been for the other things he was doing. The thumb stroking your arm was now the back of his hand, running the length of your arm over and over. And that was his breath against the curve of your throat, so close and warm he could have been kissing you there. It felt like kissing.

Only without the scariness of the real thing.

All of this was without the scariness of the real thing. It was just a game, that was all—and one that you could win if you really put you mind to it. He thought he could get you so easily, but he was utterly and completely wrong. You were a rock, in the face of whatever he was going to do. You were impervious to the pleasure he seemed to think he was going to dole out, to the point where you almost laughed when he slipped his hand beneath the waistband of those too-big sweatpants.

It was weird. Slightly uncomfortable.

Not sexy in the least.

And then his fingertips just oh-so-lightly grazed the pouting lips of your swollen pussy, and things pretty much started to go downhill from there. The sensation it sent through you was just so intense, and over something so small. He hadn’t even slipped between them to your clit, or eased a finger into your slick little hole. In truth, you weren’t entirely sure he’d touched you at all.

Yet you still had to clench your jaw.

You had to tell herself that it was just the stuff that had happened before—the film and him coming and then licking his fingers like a satisfied cat. It wasn’t anything to do with this right now, with him touching you, with his skill. He wasn’t skilful at all. He was terrible. Awful.

he worst lover you had ever had.

You had no idea why your thighs were trembling. Or what made you moan when he finally, finally, finally eased his fingers into that slick slit, and then topped it off by telling you just what he found there.

“Ohhhh fuuuuck you are wet. You’re so wet. Jesus Christ, Y/N, how can you stand it? How can you sit still and quiet with those eyes closed when your pussy is like this? So slippery I can just glide all the way down and ease on in and oh man, oh man,” he said, and all You could do in response was shiver and make a number of embarrassing noises. First for his words, and then oh god then for the feel of him doing it.

He used two fingers—two of those long, thick fingers—yet somehow it didn’t hurt when he pushed into you. There was no fumbling or searching. Your body just seemed to open for him, as though they’d dated for years and he’d worked on you for hours. He knew exactly how to touch you there, and when he did you simply had to respond. Your gasp rung out in the small room.Though you vowed it would be the last one. That was it now—you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of anything else. Not even when he started working his fingers in and out, slow and steady and so unbelievably good. you kind of wanted to cry over the unfairness of it. Why was he the one who had to be so good at this? How did he know how to do it in this deliberate, teasing, tantalizing way?

Even watching him do it was exciting. You made the mistake of glancing down and all you could see was his hand rolling beneath the material, the waistband occasionally stretching to give you a glimpse of your glossy cunt, his gleaming fingers, the way you were spread around that thick intrusion…

Fuck.

You had to look at the screen just to stop yourself coming right then and there—though even those measures had an exciting quality of their own. James Spader was just doing something incredibly dull now, while you sat here watching through slitted eyelids, cheeks flushed and legs spread, as a man slowly fingered your slick, flushed pussy. Back and forth, back and forth, until you were so beside yourself you weren’t sure you even wanted to hold back your moans. You only knew that you were still trying, for reasons that seemed vague and far away now. It just doesn’t matter, your mind hissed, but you kept it up anyway. You held yourself more tightly and bit deep into your lip—deep enough that you tasted blood. And when he started to ease those fingers up, you shut your eyes tight. You thought of other things, more boring things: dry books and bird-watching. All to no avail. He made one circle around your clit.

Just one tiny, insignificant circle, and that was it. Your orgasm rolled up from that stiff little bud, in one all-consuming and all-powerful wave. It took away your control over your body—your toes curled tight and your back arched. But most important, it took away your control over your mouth. It let one little word slip out.

Though one little word was more than enough.

“Jungkook,” You said, and after that the game was pretty much up. That was gratitude in your voice and pleasure in the sigh behind it, and all wrapped in the neat little bow of his name. There was no more pretending that it wasn’t him who had made you feel this way, or suggesting that all of this was just a game.And he knew it immediately. He kept up the thrusts of his long, thick fingers, helping you prolong the feeling of your orgasm for as long as possible. And he didn’t stop there. Your face was starting to contort from the oversensitivity and it was obvious that Jungkook knew it too from the way he bit his lip and started to purposely move his fingers faster once again.

“Ahh! J-Jungkook… I can’t….” You moaned out, though this seemed to have no effect on him as he seemed determined to elicit another orgasm from you. His fingers scraping against your tightening walls as they fought to repeatedly slam back inside you. Your thighs were shaking, your eyes half lidded, leaning back on your hands as his worked between your legs. Suddenly you gripped Jungkook’s moving hand as you came dangerously close to letting go.

“That’s it, fuck, cum again for me Y/N. I need this. You need this” He almost sounded desperate and it made you want to sob because everything was so fucking hot.

With a cry of his name, you came undone again, your body almost curling in towards itself from the sensitivity.

“Holy shit, holy shit,” he said, as though you’d cried out the filthiest thing on the face of the earth. And, again, he didn’t stop there. You could hear him fumbling with the waistband of his sweatpants already—though you tried to turn it into something else in your head. He was just pulling them up, you thought. They had slid down as he serviced you, that was all.

Only it wasn’t all.

When you made the mistake of glancing his way, you saw so much more than you were ready for. It was supposed to be over now, completely over, but he’d shoved everything down to mid-thigh and his cock was in his hand again and god god god why was it so arousing? You’d had cum twice already. He’d had one orgasm already, and now he was being so fucking filthy.

Yet somehow the filthiness only made it worse.

You came searingly close to telling him yes.

And go on.

And come all over me—just like you’d imagined.

For one wild second, it even seemed like he might. He was groaning and panting and he kept saying things, incredible things like “do you see what you do to me do you get how fucking horny you make me oh fuck just hearing you moan my name”. His hand was heavy on your shoulder, and you knew he was close. He was going to yank your top down any second now.

Any second, you thought.

Though you didn’t realize how much you wanted it until the first thick burst slid over his fist.

Didn’t know how little control you had over herself until he grunted your name and shuddered violently, that slick fluid easing over his still-pumping fist. After all, if you’d had any you would have stayed right where you were, content to just watch.Instead of leaning forward to take that heavy, swollen, slippery head in your mouth, to catch the last ribbons of his salt-sweet cum all over your eager tongue.

“Fucking fuck, Jagiya” Jungkook cursed loudly, watching you take the head of his cock in your mouth. He slid his hands in your hair, gripping it from the bottom of your skull gently, rocking your face back and forth, riding out the last of his high. You looked up at him, eye still glassed over, breathing hard and laboured and slid the head of him out of your mouth.

There was no doubt that Jungkook was shocked at your boldness but he seemed pleasantly surprised. His pupils blown out, lips swollen, skin gleaming. He truly was a work of art. The magnitude of what you two had done hit you hard. So, naturally, there was only one thing left to do in panic.

Kick him out.

“Jungkook…you need to leave”

A/N: So, Idk what happened but yeah hope you all enjoy. Not sure if I’ll make this a series since I’m bad at continuing ideas. I may stick to separate scenarios. I get bored easily. However, please feel free to check out my blog and send me ideas for new fics

Whipped...friends??

Y/N would have never imagined the amount of attention being Harry’s best friend would bring. There’s also always speculations, suspicions that the two might be more than friends, given the fact that when they go out, it’s like they might as well be joined at the hip. Where Harry is on a day off, Y/N is sure to follow, and the paparazzi gets pictures of it all. But Y/N’s always been just a friend. It’s not like she trails behind him like a puppy, no. Harry just always loves having her around, finds comfort in the way she talks to him without a hint of glorification. Tracing back to the beginning of their friendship, Y/N didn’t tip toe around Harry, trying to make sure to not say the wrong thing, never really made impressing Harry a priority. And Harry really appreciated that.

And the relentless bother and questions of “are you two dating?” doesn’t end with the public, no, it continues, and probably gets more intense coming from their group of friends.

Whenever Y/N steps away from Harry’s side, there’s always one of the boys whispering to him about how they’re sure she’s got him wrapped around her pretty little finger. How at the call of his name, Harry never thinks twice about dropping everything and tending to her wants and needs. They make it sound awful in a way, as if Y/N is always needy of Harry and demanded his attention. But they don’t mean it like that really, just like bothering him about it, specially because he gets all worked up in trying to defend her.

They even comment about how they’ve taken notice to the fact Harry’s smile can stretch for miles at the mention of her name, which Harry has never denied. Only nods his head in amusement at the fact others notice.

And maybe their secret little escapes to what they refer to as “friend dates” are no help. They’ll be having a night in on the sofa, Harry sat at the edge of it, elbow propped on the arm rest, mindlessly scrolling through texts and thumbs swift on the screen, typing replies to friends. And obviously Y/N’s with him, lying down and feet resting on his lap, her head flat on the cushion, eyes shut because she quite enjoys just lying about in a silent room, knowing Harry’s there. And it’s not until he shuffles to stand up, pushing her legs off him in the process, that she opens her eyes and follows his body across the room where he doubles over to slip on his YSL boots before he goes for his coat. With a small whisper of “ye’ comin’?” Y/N is sure to follow his steps. Most nights like that they end up in some random bar or restaurant, sat on a stool or a booth, laughing and eating. Harry will often opt to sit next to her rather than in front, taking the chance to lay his head on her shoulder. Even kiss at her neck sometimes.

And when the boys catch a glimpse of the paparazzi photos taken of them all cuddly on a random Tuesday night at a local cafe, Harry’s phone just about overloads with texts from Niall going on about “I knew it!” And “just ask her, man!”

So no, it’s not out of the ordinary for Louis to make a ‘wuh-PSSSH’ sound followed by something snarky like “so whipped, mate. And she’s not even ye’ girlfriend,” when he notices Harry’s stare trailing to where Y/N goes as she makes breakfast for the lot. Harry tries to disregard the comment as Louis takes a seat next to him at the kitchen island.

“What’re you guys going on about over there?” Y/N asks, giggling to herself, “got Harry blushing and all.”

And of course with no chill what so ever, Liam pats Harry on the back, a devilish smile playing on his lips, “Harry here has found himself head over heels.”

Y/N can’t deny that her heart sinks a little at that, but she doesn’t let it faze her, or at least she doesn’t show it. “Really?? Oh who is she??”

“Yeah, Harry! Tell our lovely Y/N who’s the lucky woman!” Harry would hope Niall would be the one not to indulge in his current tormenting.

But Harry can only look at Y/N, her eyes locked on his from across the room. And Harry swears he’s never seen her look at him the way she is right now.

And the boys don’t mean to over tease him this time, just wish he’d finally let it out and tell her because they’re rather sure Y/N feels the same. It’s hard not to notice the way she looks at him, eyes full of adoration and dare they say, love.

When the air has fallen silent for far too long, Liam decides to change the subject for Harry’s sake and stands up to give Y/N a hand with the pouring of the beverages.

“You two have gotten to the point where you grocery shop together.” Liam starts again when Y/N steps away for more milk, “you cook together. You do laundry together. You’re always going on dates. You go with her for manis and pedis, and I’m sure you enjoy it, too.”

“So wha’?? I like spendin’ time with her.” Harry doesn’t really see why that’s so bad, being whipped and all.

“You sleep together,” Louis chimes in, “hell, wouldn’t be surprised if you showered together.”

Now that’s just nonsense.

“Sod off ye’ prick.”


It’s been a few weeks since the day Y/N found out Harry’s interested in someone. And she’d be lying if she said it doesn’t keep her awake at night. Awake while she’s lying next to Harry because of the fact that they’d much rather sleep together than alone. But when she looks over at him, she can’t help but smile.

She’s lying on her side, eyes tracing his, rid of any wrinkles they get when he smiles or frowns. They trace all of him. From his eyes to his eyebrows, then his cheeks and to his nose, where she kisses lightly, careful not to wake him. He only crinkles it for a short second, to which she only smiles. Her eyes linger down his neck, tracing every muscle and crevice until she’s looking at the tattoos on his chest, the steady rise and fall of it has her breathing adapting to his.

It’s when she looks at his parted bubble gum pink lips that she raises a hand, her index finger ghosting over his bottom lip. The touch has Harry stirring, eyes open for a moment before he puckers his lips to peck her finger, a smile on his face. He flutters his eyes shut for a second before resting his hand on her waist and rubbing his thumb gently on the exposed skin. He moans in content, pulls her body closer to his and rests his lips on her hair line.

“Go t'sleep, pet.”

And why oh why did she ever think some friendly flirting and bed sharing with her best friend could never lead to any emotional attachment.


The cuddles hasn’t stopped. Harry’s lingering kisses and hugs hasn’t stopped. The boys teasing on Harry behind Y/N’s back hasn’t stopped. Y/N sleeping in Harry’s bed hasn’t stopped. And Y/N’s constant self reminder that Harry might just be in love with someone else has not stopped.

If she’s being quite honest, she’s not liking the way the boys snicker and whisper to Harry when she walks off. And she really doesn’t like how whatever and whoever they’re whispering about is making Harry blush and smile sheepishly like crazy. Wishes she knew what they’re always being so secretive about. But giving it a second thought, maybe she doesn’t wanna know. It’s all the same to her now though.

The movie on the telly doesn’t seem to distract her anymore, not from her thoughts which are taking over her mind the more time she spends in Harry’s home. And to add to that, the second she steps back into the room with a bowl of popcorn the boys go silent. It makes her feel awful…left out, but she’s sure they don’t mean to do it. She should be thankful right? At least they’re nice enough not to talk about Harry’s girl in front of her, or maybe that’s just something she wants to believe.

“Oh popcorn.” Niall’s first to reach out and grab a handful before she’s even had the chance to get to her seat next to Harry.

“Thanks, love.” Harry whispers, kissing her cheek the second she sits down.

She notices out of the corner of her eye how Louis smirks and nods his head when Harry wraps his arm around her shoulder. What’s so funny??

The moment Harry presses another kiss to the top of her head is the moment she realizes she’s had enough. It’s the moment she realizes she can’t keep pretending and letting herself fall even more. Not after what Liam said.

“I have to go. It’s getting pretty late.” This catches everyone off guard, especially Harry.

When she stands up to leave, his fingers around her wrist are quick to make her stop and have her look down at him, still sat on the sofa. “Wha’ do ye’ mean? Ye’ always spend the night, poppet.”

His brows are furrowed now, grip tight on her wrist, fearing that if he loosens it she might just slip away.

Of course they can’t ignore the other people in the room though, so when Y/N’s eyes avert to the boys, Harry is quick to stand up and lead them away.

“Everythin’ a'right?” His eyes scan hers for answers, his hand now cupping her neck, thumb rubbing soothingly at her jaw.

The cool of his rings on her skin keep her at ease. But the uncertainty in her eyes has Harry feeling all types of useless.

“Tell me wha’s wrong, little one. Wha’ can I do to make ye’ feel better?”

And those words would have made no sense if it wasn’t for the sudden feeling of Harry wiping away a stray tear she didn’t notice she’d shed.

She can’t. She can’t break down. Not in front of him. What can she say for him to let her go??

“Nothing’s wrong, Harry.”

But she’s sure he doesn’t believe her, not one bit. He knows her too well.

And she can tell he’s about to say something else, and she knows if she lets him, she’s sure to fall back into whatever they have.

“I’ve really got to go. I’ve got a date in an hour and I have to go get ready.”

As much bullshit of an excuse as that is, Harry’s grip on her wrist loosens, and the hand on her neck falls.

And she takes the opportunity to slip out the door.



Whipped…friends?? Or.. (Part Two)

anonymous asked:

What's the huge thing about Victor in episode 8? TELL US, PLEASEEEE

lksjaklsj okAY SO,,,anon is talking about this post i made abt a day ago

and i’m lauhguhingh cuz i said specifically ‘victuri-related’ but ur like,,,,what’s the huge thing about vIcToR  and i feel personally called out by that, actually alskjaklsajaskl but you’re not wrong either. what i noticed happens to be very much about victor’s PoV, which in turn reflects heavily on his relationship with yuri at that point. so lesgo???? [starts playing celine dion]

so in ep. 8 yuri is the 3rd skater to perform. there’s the skate kees at the kees&cry, then he and my som are off to interviews&stuff:

[zooms in on vivic’s proud heart-eyes] mmmNOICE

moving on,,,yurio is next on the ice. there’s some teen angst going on,,,,i make a sandwich cuz i don’t care that much,,,then it’s jeans jack’s turn,,,,wrow he got some ego issues there,,,i monch on my sammich,,,,,,,,then THIS:

as you can see, Gay #1 and Gay #2 are watching the performance together. 

cut to more scenes of jeans on the ice,,,i dissociate,,,,,,,the performance fiNaLLy ends, there’s applause, then this:

now this part is important because you gotta wonder why yuri’s all “huh?” here. one could say that’s his reaction to the applause jeans is getting, but i don’t think that’s the case. there were lots of pressure on his back at times he did get affected by his competitors’ standings, but on this night, he’d already given a perfect performance, made his coach proud in his home country, got hugged and praised by said coach… it was just an overall chill, gay night okay. plus, this shot is weird. notice how victor is nowhere to be seen? he should be by yuri’s right side, but the shot looks purposefully cropped there. why would they choose to cut victor out and put some random guy behind yuri instead? seems to me there’s intention in making yuri appear alone. 

now the most important question, and the crux of this whole thing arises: when you’re responsible for the care of a dog and something happens, who do you call first? who do you think has a right to know what’s going on first, the dog’s owner, or your brother? yeah

so i think yuri, who’d been intently watching the tv, didn’t notice when victor got a phone call from japan. victor, polite as ever, walks away to answer. yuri only realizes he’s gone after the performance ends. 

next time we see yuri, he already has mari on the phone. she tells him what happened, and he’s pretty much in shock:

some more jeans jack,,,i roll my eyes so hard i see my childhood,,,,,,then…

look at victor’s face. yuri hasn’t even acknowledged him yet, and he looks petrified. he probably zoned the fuck out once he got off the phone, then just zombie-walked until he found yuri, the only face he can recognize right now. the only thing attaching him to reality.

yuri doesn’t even bother explaining the situation, because as soon as he looks at his face, he knows victor knows. 

now the most important screencap of this Entire Thread actually scratch that, imma make a gif cuz this Warrants it,,,,,just a sec [elevator music]

now,,,,,,the most important gif of this Entire Thread:

victor. is. shookt.

we always discuss how much trust yuri has for victor, how he perceives their relationship & his insecurities about it, but what about victor’s? don’t you think this softé, gentlé boy who’s been so starved of real connections and affection for decades isn’t uncertain either? that he’s not scared? that he doesn’t ask himself how exactly yuri feels about him - whether he’d still want him around if they weren’t coach/student? for all victor knows at this point, yuri just up and left after the banquet. no calls, no postcards, no nothing. then there was the video, and his first weeks in japan, and yuri unknowingly acting like nothing had happened, which sent him all kinds of mixed signals. they got closer, and closer, then china happened. 

this, right here, is probably the most delicate stage of their relationship - the moment they’re working out exactly what this is and where they stand with each other and where do they go from here, and i’m pretty sure victor has been terrified. he’s been terrified because it’s real now, the kiss made it real, he actually has this and he doesn’t want to lose it. yuri is literally victor’s safe haven - the first person he feels deeply connected to, the guy he quite literally wants to spend the rest of his life with, and he’s desperate to know if yuri wants the same, if what he feels for victor goes way beyond professional admiration and gratitude.

and this, right here, confirms it.

the guy who puts their professional relationship and the fucking grand prix series aside and tells victor to haul ass to japan to be with his sick dog isn’t so much victor’s student as he’s victor’s boyfriend. he’s the guy who loves victor regardless of what victor can do for him and his career. and now, more than ever, victor knows that.

Sex Worker's Guide: Red Flags & Translation (especially for Newbies)

This guide is more useful for Sugar babies but other branches of the industry should still be aware of these lines. I’ve compiled a list of common things I’ve heard/read on POT’s profiles or have had clients/SD’s message me, and I’ve taken the liberty of sharing “the translation” and footnotes attached.

•"No hookers, prostitutes, whores, etc"
-You need to run as fast as your pretty heels can you carry you away from this guy. The word “hooker” was intentionally chosen to discourage SB’s to ask for allowance.
-This is the oldest trick in the book by old pervy men. He hopes that he’ll tap into your insecurity of being seen as a whore so you’ll feel ashamed when you bring up HIS side of the MUTUALLY beneficial arrangement.

•"You wouldn’t buy a car without test driving it, would you?“
GURRRRRL, you’re not a car. You’re a human being. He’s gotten his “test drive” to check out his “merchandise” when you granted him the privilege of a meet and greet. Don’t fall for this. He’s gonna ghost on you after sleeping with you as many times as he can. You get to view a house before buying, not live in it.

•"I don’t believe in allowances but I’m generous. I want to show you fine dining, and experiences you wouldn’t be able to experience otherwise.“
-Roughly translates to “I’m gonna spend just a few bucks more than I would on normal courtship habits I would for women twice your age. You should feel so honored to be able to eat a steak meal now that it should be enough to get you on both your knees.”
-Ladies, the money he spends on a 5 star dinner isn’t for YOU. It’s expenses he’s spending on HIMSELF because HE gets to show off a hot woman like yourself at said restaurant. You’re not getting paid. You’re simply giving your service away for free.

•"I’m young, unlike the other guys on here. I don’t need to pay for sex.“
Group A: Young millennial men deluded into thinking they offer something so spectacular that women in need of money will drop their financial needs to cater to the ego of a kid.
Group B: (ages 29+): I’m not that young but I don’t want to admit it. I probably spend way too much money on hair dyes or gym regimens in an attempt to fool myself that I’m just as good looking as the women I’m messaging on here.

•"I will send/bring your allowance next week (some other time), I promise.”
-It really means “I promise you ain’t seeing a penny out of me but I’m gonna say the most genuine sounding lines so I can bring you to my hotel room.”.
-Any wealthy man should be able to access his OWN money before the designated date of intimacy. Always remember, no money, no honey.

•"I’m generous in other ways… ;)“
-"I’ve had the fortune of having exceptionally skilled sex partners in the past who’ve convinced me my dick is God’s gift to women. Unfortunately, I failed to realize women fake it much more often than I’d like to admit.”

•He just requests your photos without even so much as an introduction.
-He’s 9/10 a photo collector. Ignore him.
-If he’s the 1/10 that isn’t a photo collector, he’s gonna be an asshole. Can you imagine if a man in real life just went up to you and pulled down your shirt without saying anything? Ignore him too.

•"I thought part of our arrangement was that you’re at my beck and call. Why do you take so long to respond to my messages?“
-Unless you agreed to have an EXCLUSIVE arrangement, he’s trying to squeeze as much out of you as he can.
-Remember ladies, he’s buying a SERVICE. A service that is limited to the set days you BOTH agreed to. That’s it. He is buying you as a service, not a girlfriend. Gently remind him of that.

•"Cmon, I’ve been paying you/seeing you for awhile now. You can at least trust me with your real name, school, work, etc.”
-Any variation of that is a SERIOUS red flag. I’ve had clients of years try to guilt me. I’ve always either smiled then tell them I don’t feel comfortable or I flat out lie about facts.
-There’s a chance he just wants to connect with you but there’s a much higher chance of him blackmailing you in the future. These are powerful men who got to where they are by being cunning and having upper hands. Don’t think you’ll be spared if you ever accidentally upset him.
-The biggest thing I must say is: YOU DON’T OWE YOUR CLIENTS/SD’S JACKSHIT except the service they paid for. Your own personal life is NOT inclusive in your service. Keep it separate.

•If on a meet and greet he asks or tells you to go to his hotel room or somewhere private.
-Never go until the arrangement has been made. By made, I mean the cash or funds have already been paid to you.
-Semi-common for them to lure young girls and rape them.

I’m sure there are many more that I can’t remember now. I might make a part two depending on if people find this useful. Feel free to comment more red flags you’ve experience. Make that money. 💸💸💸 Stay safe, ladies. 👍🏻
Baby boy (Jungkook one-shot smut)

Originally posted by nnochu


A/N: Just had it lying around. Will edit later.

Summary: You and Jungkook get carried away at school.

Themes: Baby boy Jungkook, sex with risk of being caught, sex at school, battle for dominance, dom Jungkook, sub Jungkook

Pairing: You x Jungkook

Genre: Pure smut

Word count: 4k (like all smut lol)

Trigger warnings: Dominance, sex at school, teasing, swearing, graphic smut, oral

thank you, @lindlovesbts <3


You’d first hooked up with him 56 days ago. It was a party. Another one. One you shouldn’t have gone to, just like the 5 before that. The liquor rang strong in your veins and your body shuddered with sexual frustration as you watched him from across the room. He hadn’t noticed you until you made it impossible for him not to. You got real close to where he was sitting on a random couch and danced as seductively as you could. You knew your plan to get his attention worked when you were in the kitchen pouring another drink and he approached you.

“Y/N, right?” He asks, casually leaning back against the counter, which holds the red cup your eyes are still on. You know it’s him and don’t bother to look up- adding to the game.

“And you’re Jungkook.”

Keep reading

Living Next-Door to Teamiplier

This was fun to do. I couldn’t stop smiling while writing this! 
It’s pretty self-explanatory, this is a list of what it would be like living next to Mark, Ethan, Tyler, Amy and Katherine.  
Hope you guys enjoy!

Originally posted by murphranger

-You begin to question your neighbors sanity. 

-At first, you thought they were a bunch of hilarious nut-jobs. Maybe have a few screws loose and you should probably be worried for yourself. 

-But after meeting them personally and Mark explaining what he does for a living, EVERYTHING MADE SENSE! 

-After meeting everyone, you sort of fell into a sense of understanding and acceptance. 

-The first few times you caught the boys in dresses, you couldn’t help but laugh and crack jokes. 

-They flipped you off, jokingly criticizing whatever you were wearing at the time.

-Now, when you see Tyler in a massive turkey outfit, you just sip your coffee and wave at them from across the fence. 

-They’ve apologized many times for the weird noises coming from inside their house. 

-They give you some warning if they’re going to be doing stuff outside. Usually accompanied by Mark’s cooking because he felt bad about the loud music the night before.

-You actually went over and knocked on their door to make sure they were ok after hearing lots of screaming. 

-You found out they were just making a video. 

-They invited you inside to watch. 

-Funniest afternoon of your life. You still laugh about it weeks afterwards. 

-Amy and Katherine chat with you over the fence. They ask for cooking ingredients sometimes because Mark and the boys used it in their videos. 

-Anything you see through the windows, is entirely restricted to be spoken about between you and them. 

-You at first thought they were doing it for fun. (Which they were of course).

-But after watching a few of Mark’s videos and vlogs and live-streams, you’re safe to say you admire Mark and his work even more. 

-You donate to his live-streams and he shouts a thank you from the upstairs window. 

-You give him a thumbs-up from your side of the fence. 

-Ethan sometimes running to your house to hide from the others. 

-“They want me to do weird things, (Y/N)! Strange, unnatural things! Don’t let them find me!” 

-When this happens, you feign ignorance of Ethan’s location. 

-But Mark brings you over home-cooked meals and you give the blue-boy up instantly. 

-Ethan calling you over the fence because he doesn’t want to live with these “weirdos” anymore. 

-“I’ll sleep on the couch! I’ll rub your feet and clean! I beg you!”

-Him silently crying in your direction and mouthing, “Help” every time they shoot a video outside and you’re watching.

-Tyler is tall enough to see over the fence. 

-He leans over the top and chats with you while you’re gardening. 

-If you’re having trouble with something in the house, he’ll come over and help fix/move it. 

-Chica met you once and now escapes to go see you. 

-She’ll sleep on the front mat and wait for you to come to the door. 

-Tyler lifts her up so you can pat her over the fence. 

-You dog-sit when Teamiplier go away.

-The rest of the street think you’re all nuts. 

-Which is fine because you don’t like people coming uninvited to your door. 

-Except Teamiplier. 

-They pretty much treat your home like their own. (Within respective reason) 

-Mark knocks and enters.

-Ethan just waltzes right in. 

-Tyler knocks and waits patiently for you to open the door and allow him inside.

-Whenever something is thrown onto your side of the fence, the boys will try to clamber/jump over to get it. 

-This ends in a lot of swearing, sometimes a scrape or two.-Usually you throw it back over. But then it comes back a few more times. 

-So you sat on your side of the fence hitting whatever came over with a tennis-racket. 

-”Ignore the person on the other side of the fence!” Mark told the camera.
“They’re not important! They’re a nobody!” Ethan waved his hand in your direction.
“I’m keeping this ball now!” 

-Mark’s community have only seen glimpses of you. An arm or the top of your head peeking over the fence. 

-But you’re still a huge part of the channel since the boys call out for you in most of the videos that are filmed outside. 

-You answer them either with a loud, rude noise or a sarcastic comment that they all laugh at. 

-You had pretended to be annoyed when a stray foam arrow had flown through the open window of your kitchen. 

-But you couldn’t help but find the whole thing funny. 


-“Who the fuck just tried to assassinate me?” 
“Sorry! We’re really sorry!” 
“Next time aim better!” 

-Being Neighbors with Teamiplier is never dull. There is always something to smile or laugh at, and you have grown close to the bunch of weirdos over the fence.

→ Paper Doll (pt. 1)

Originally posted by sugutie

☆ pairing → Jungkook x Reader

☆ genre → idol+singer-songwriter!au, drama, slight angst

 warning sexual themes with smut in the next chapters, mentions of past unhealthy relationship 

☆ word count   → 2.1k

summary   → When the nation’s little sister, IU, gets into a huge scandal, your agency seizes the opportunity to thrust you into that now vacant spotlight. Your self-composed song Paper Doll becomes an overnight sensation, and soon people are itching to find out who was the one who broke your heart. All hell breaks loose once netizens discover that you used to date popular idol, Jeon Jungkook. Little do they know that it wasn’t him who left the relationship unscathed –  it was you.

alternatively: a story on the consequences of a hit break-up song

i | ii 


a/n  → so basically this is me being coerced into writing jjk smut 
edit: pt i is more of a prologue



[+11,435; -2,003] this really breaks my image of him… proves how you can’t judge someone from their personality on camera

[+9,386; -1,983] all this time he was pretending to be super innocent haha all those stupid fangirls throwing money at him blindly must be going crazy

[+5,903; -1,234] i mean everyone goes through break-ups, but he was cosplaying as an innocent guy who was scared of skinship with girls all these years.. lmao he’s super shamel–

The words on the screen in front of him all blurred and bled into one big stain. He quickly scrolled through the hundreds and hundreds of comments, each more condemning than the last. A steady pressure was building in his ears, until the only thing he could see or feel were the accusations of a faceless crowd, all jeering at him loudly, fingers pointed.

It was as if his entire life flashed in front of his eyes right then, and he could suddenly recall every inconsequential and significant thing that had shaped his life the past seven years – the hours and hours spent in front of the mirror rehearsing the same steps over and over again, the taste of soggy ramen Hoseok hyung had let overcook last week, the screams of fans, the sound of his alarm clock, the look on your face when you told him it was over. There was no chronology to the kaleidoscope of fleeting glimpses of his past.

“What,” he breathed, hands shaking, eyes wide and disbelieving as his phone fell with a clatter on the table. He desperately wanted to ignore reality, but the stares that were all focused on him kept him grounded to the present.

Of course his first scandal would be linked to you.

Keep reading

Paper Hearts (Part 13)

Originally posted by tbhobi

Genre: Angst/fluff

♡ Pairing: Reader x Jungkook // Reader x Jimin

♡ Length: 5.1k

♡ Summary: It has been nearly a year since you started writing anonymous letters to Jungkook, giving him words of encouragement behind the thin mask of a paper. He never considered you as a possible suspect behind these letters, because you were nothing more than a best friend. And you couldn’t put all the blame on him either, after all, you were too afraid to confess in fear of tarnishing your precious friendship.

1 ♡ 2  ♡ 3  4   5   6   7   8   9  ♡ 10  ♡ 11  ♡ 12  ♡ 13  ♡ 14

Keep reading

No One’s Roasted Like Gaston.[Oneshot].

no one writes FANFICS LIKE EMILEE.

Originally posted by luuuuuke-evans

Title: No One’s Roasted Like Gaston.
Pairing: Implied!- Gaston x Reader.
Rating: T.
Words: 2,231.
Summary: Gaston thought he was undeniable to women and even some men. Has he finally found his match?


There was nothing particularly notable about the early mornings, at least, not anymore. The sky above was it usual mixture of pinks, purples and some lighter hues of blue as the sun rose and lit up the clouds, giving them a rather unique looking glow. There was a small wind, but not chilling, and brought in the lingering scent of meadows and trees. You got used to those aspects and they slowly became the norm. You began to not notice them at all, and remarked them as being every day life. If one wanted to really shake things up in a morning routine, they would count the cobblestones that made up each walkway in the village. But, that’s the thing. No one ever wanted to shake things up. They wanted things to stay the same for that is the way they had been living for as long as anyone could remember. With change came the unprecedented fear that something terrible would happen as a result.

It was the hustle and bustle of such a small village did leave one breathless and forgetful on occasion if you didn’t pay attention to where you were going and why you were going there in the first place. If one was aimlessly walking in the morning time while the sun peaked into the valley, one might be trampled by those selling goods and merchandise. Some too expensive, and some not expensive enough and left you wondering whether you had been scammed or if you had gotten a good deal.

Aimless and mindless were surely your vibe this beautiful morning. You had nowhere to be, nothing to do or see and so you actually took your time to walk through the village during one of the busiest times of day. There was a variant of smells, some of which you happened to thoroughly enjoy. Fresh bread, springtime air, a small caddy on the corner before the village square that was selling freshly picked roses. Contrary to the flowers smelling divine, the actual vibrancy of the colors caught your attention and dwindled you to stay and admire them for longer than you had intended . Vivid reds, pastel pinks, yellow whites. It looked as if these flowers belonged immortalized in a painting for the entire world to enjoy.

Smiling at the vendor who was a few feet to your right, you plucked a light, dusty pink rose out of one of the buckets full of water. It dripped down your fingers onto your wrist causing a small shudder to shoot down your arm. Miraculously, it looked as if a skilled painter had dipped their brush in the sky during dusk, mustered up enough color to splotch onto the petals of the flower. Some parts were darker than others, but all around, it was a very delicate and soft appearing flower.

“Beautiful.” You could hear someone behind you say. And without the need to turn around and see the speaker, you were already well aware of who it was. Probably looking at himself in the reflection of a window again, you snickered quietly. It was as if you could see the bright red uniform from your peripheral vision and it was already giving you a headache. Setting the flower back into the metallic bucket, you gave the vendor one more glance over and polite smile before drawing your attention to your left, with the unsuccessful hope of getting out of there without Gaston being connected at your hip.

Keep reading

compliments part 2 - zach dempsey

requested: yes

word count: 2.216

warnings: none besides fluff i think

plot: zach decides to (nervously) confront you after finding out you’re the one slipping compliments in his bag

a/n: i Cannot believe a 2nd part was requested i cant believe you guys enjoyed the first part and sent me messages!! i wasn’t planning on writing this but here she is since y’all are cute as heck


Originally posted by veronicsalodge

Thursday night found Zach Dempsey sprawled on his bed.

A week worth of complimentary notes was at the foot of the bed. Some were folded, some all the way open but none of them were in their original, pristine state. They were crumpled, thing that probably happened whenever the boy stuffed them in his pockets.

Keep reading