or he would probably have to had to send out an sos

Rest Stop Part 4

When Lance woke up, his arm wasn’t a bloody mess anymore and he could hear something other than his heartbeat trying to dash out of his body. Exhaling, he scanned the room and realized the quite chatter he heard was from upstairs. It was probably the refugees. He blinked.

The refugees. Wait.

Sleep chamber knees or not, Lance scrambled out of the pod, his armor ruining the impact of the floor when he tripped. Lance kind of needed something to smack some sense in him as he frantically ran for the door.

Keith? Is Keith okay? Is Pidge? Where’s the team? I don’t see anyone in a pod, so that either means everything’s okay or someone’s dead-

Where’s my helmet?

Really, Lance? Now? Of all times?

The itch for to find it doesn’t make much sense until Lance remembers there are communication systems in his helmet. I’m a genius!

After three seconds of looking around the room like an idiot, Lance spots it on top of his folded jacket and jeans. His shoes sat next to them. Someone must have thought to leave them there for him, which was nice, but he wasn’t going to take off his armor until he knew no one was dead or in danger. Picking it up, he pushes it on his head and sighs as it turns on at his DNA signature. “Hello, anyone there?”

“Lance!” Allura’s pleased voice overwhelms him for a second, but he focuses on what she says. “I’m glad you’re awake. All the prisoners are located in the ballroom, and there were only a handful of injuries. Your fellow paladins are safe and doing recon at the moment. You can change into your regular clothes and join them in you wish, but Coran and I wouldn’t mind you hanging back.”

He smiles. Good, everyone was accounted for. “Nah, I’ll go.” He says, shucking off the armor on his calves. He pulls it off while Allura chatters on. “Okay, I’ll send them a message to let them know you woke up and will be joining them shortly. They’re on the coast of this island, which is relatively small, so you’ll be fine walking out the castle door and straight. Rest up when you’re done. We can’t have a paladin tired from battle injuries. Don’t think you can get away with it either. Hunk has a drone with him that monitors the rescue and I will see if you try anything reckless.”

“Okay, Allura.” He laughs, removing his chest plate. She huffs, and says goodbye, the switches off the coms. Lance pulls off his helmet and peels away his flight suit. His back is wide, exposed, and easy to see.

He knows. He knows. He should hurry.


Keith toes a thick chip of metal, flipping it over in a pile of rubble. They’ve just cleared out another jetty, reeling in prisoners with Pidge’s bayard on the floating escape pods, and pointing out the direction they should walk for help. A furry pile of three distinct round mounds hops past quickly, fluffy pastel fur tickling the other colors. It chirps in thanks before speeding up. Cold, dry hands pat Keith on the arm in gratitude as a leathery mix of tree and human walks past, thin legs extending to move the whole body like it’s floating above it.

He huffs. He wants Lance.

Yeah, he could admit it. Lance, was a solid person to have beside him. He always had Keith’s back, he was loyal and funny, and he had just taken a bullet for him. He wanted to make sure he was okay. He wouldn’t stop looking back, searching for a rustle in the bushes and a bright smile, his heart lighter but impatient without Lance.

Keith sighed and crossed his arms, smiling tiredly.

Yeah, he really couldn’t wait to have his sharpshooter by his side again.

After all, a good team takes two.


Lance tugs on the waistband of his jeans and slips on his shoes.

His armor is a heap on the floor in front of the pod - he’ll have to come pick it up later. Anxiety twirls around by his feet and dances up towards his back. His exposed back. There’s a problem. He needs to cover his tan skin immediately. But he hadn’t been left a shirt. He’d have to wear just his jacket and not take it off.

They did “salvage” in casual clothes for a reason. The armor, as protective as it was, added weight. It might have been light and flexible, but it still got in the way of some maneuvers, and if someone fell in water, it would weigh them down. Even if the helmet had life support, it only lasted so long. There were too many “what if’s” when it came to the armor and water. Their best chance at surviving was getting to the surface as fast as possible. Unnecessary weight would slow them down.

Funny how Lance was only physically light. He sunk like a rock everywhere else.

It was ironic how many people would want him to drown when he was the only one who could swim.

Stuffing his arms inside, Lance shrugged on his jacket, and zipped it up. He passed through the halls like a ghost, the survivors busy chattering around him. Demon held inside his jacket, he walked out into the semi tropical rainforest.


It was the worst possible situation.

Lance had just brushed past a leafy bush to have the sea roar in his ears and salt hit his lips. The team was hovering over the rocky coast that disappeared into the blue ocean, craving to save the pod tittering on a small cliff of rock, but unable to risk crossing the water. The pod was absolutely trashed , the spike of obsidian piercing the buoyancy - if it fell, it’d sink to the bottom. Flying out would get them both killed - the pod could fall and take one of the team down, trapping them in the waves, and both the prisoners and them would drown. But what made it horribly, horribly worse was who was in the pod.

“Dad! Matt!”

Two recongzinable faces peered out the door way, the door probably having been ripped off in the crash. Matt was gripping the edge, bracing himself and using his leg to hold back a weary Samuel Holt. He was definitely injured, unconcious, the small trail of dark blood dripping off into the ocean. The sea rocked and churned underneath them, an uncomplete death sentence, and the pod creaked ominously, ready to give in and crash at any second. Dread sat heavy on Lance’s tongue.

“Katie…”

Shiro was grasping Pidge by a hand, his face terrified but trying to gain control. Pidge wasn’t struggling against Shiro- she was struggling against herself, desperation written in her features, but the menacing roll of the ocean warded her away. All she wanted was to save them, Lance could tell, but her body was screaming to flee the water, to fly, to escape being dragged from the sky, dragged to a heavy, wet death. Hunk and Keith looked like a watered down version - scared, cautious motions back and forth, unsure and scared.

Lance’s hand was already playing with his zipper.

Everything about Matt screamed tense and near frantic. Tensed like a cat, his body locked against the open air, sagging like an acrobat on ropes, Matt clearly was trying to find a way out of this without killing himself, his dad, or his sister. But he hadn’t found a possibility. If he moved, the pod would tilt with his weight, or his dad would fall into the water. No one could fly out to them - he’d have to get off himself. But he couldn’t move, the floor of the pod wrecked with a spike behind him and Samuel supported by his leg.

Lance could be that possibility.

Like a sick bird that had finally had enough, the pod plummeted in the water with the screech of torn metal.

Pidge’s heartbroken scream matched it.

Lance was tearing out of his shoes and jacket, tossing it in the sand, head leaps and bounds ahead of him. Sand kicked up from his sprint sprayed the droid and the team as he raced past. Lance could feel their incredulous stares go from the flooded hunk of metal to his bare back, but it didn’t freeze the determination in his veins. He dove in the water with a splash.

Calm was the first word in his mind when the swirling blue washed over his head. It was calm here, the gentle roll of the current miles below him. He was light, weightless. The second word was control. In water, Lance was in command, a quiet authority. He pushed and pulled himself along, arms scooping out his way. Quick, strong kicks brought him to the submerged metal ship, and he pressed two hands to the metal, looking for the window. This ocean wasn’t his, wasn’t theirs’s. They needed to get out soon.

Gliding in through the empty window frame, Lance slinked up to search over the jagged metal and broken, dead wires. Matt’s transfixed face meet his. His eyebrows furrowed, and for someone who should be drowning, he was doing remarkably well at staying calm.

Matt stared at him as if he was a mirage almost, but Lance could tell Matt was the kind who didn’t care as long as they didn’t die. Tapping the roof of cramped pod, Lance waited for Matt to nod before reaching over and working Samuel over the barrier with him, pulling the older man into his arms. A cut craved out a thin line across his calf, a blood came from a smaller one of his head. He was clearly passed out and needed to be brought to the surface ASAP. Lance smiled and held up one finger, then two. Realizing Lance would come back for him, Matt nodded sagely and floated back.

Propelling off the wall, Lance left water dragging behind him. The weight in his arms was incredible - the man wasn’t much shorter than him but had to weigh almost twice as much with his wings.

Thick and waterlogged, they curved and looked fluffy like Pidge’s. Lowered with age, his wings dragged behind him like a pair of broken airplane wings. Streaked with brown and gray darker than Pidge’s, they’d ironically cause the man they made light to drown like an anchor if Lance let go.

He doesn’t dare tempt this new ocean.

Breaking past the surface with a gasp, Lance clutches Samuel to his chest and awkwardly swims to shore with one arm. Scrambling up the loose, wet clumps of sand, he ignores the stricken staring of them team and flips Samuel on his back.

He starts pumping Samuel’s chest.

Come on, come on.

He’s on a time limit, damnit!

He pushes harder, and Samuel suddenly jerks against him, coughing water out of his lungs. Lance takes the second to arrange him on his side so he doesn’t choke on his own vomit, then dashes back into the ocean. His kicks are a last-ditch effort that pay off, literally almost ramming himself into the pod. He yanks himself through the window and nearly slices his hand open on the broken metal wall. He might not be able to fly, but he can swim and save someone drowning. He can. He can, no matter how worthless he is. It is called a trash can - not a trash cannot. (He thinks that’s a line from some anime, but he doesn’t have time to really ask himself if he made a refrence while saving someone drowning. He probably did).

Matt’s lips are turning blue when Lance arrives. His jaw is set and cheeks ballooned out, precious oxygen held inside. Quickly, he reaches out to Lance, who helps him over the wreckage. Wrapping his arms around Lance’s neck, he tucks himself against his body. Lance latches an arm around him, careful to hook it under his wings. They are near replicas of Pidge’s, though clearly entering the final stages. Less childish, more rectangular in design, with darker hints of brown. The tops poke Lance gently in the face, but the bottoms are pressed to Matt’s knees.

Using the smooth sheet of metal as a boost, Lance rushed up to the surface, leaving the pod to sink even faster than before. The distance was greater, the weight heavy, and the time less, but he’d have wings before he let go of Matt.

Bobbing to the surface, he gulps in air. Matt is sucking in giant breathes against his neck, giggling and trembling with relief. He even happy kick-spams to shore with Lance.

But relief is far, far, away from Lance.

The weight of a wingless world crashes on his back, so, so much heavier than Matt or Samuel.

His shoes are too far away.

Shit.

He doesn’t wait for the team to ask questions, doesn’t give the anxiety and self hate a chance to strike, snatching up his jacket. There’s a quick “Hey-” before water is filling his ears again, and he’s swimming out, swimming away. Desperation and adrenaline sing in his veins, overruling this sea’s temper. This isn’t his ocean. The pushes and pulls are closer to shoves and yanks, semi-aggressively telling him to leave, but Lance makes his way through anyhow. Currents a similar shade of blue to the ones from Earth twirl around him, tiny air bubbles decorating them like stars. It’s frigid, a cold, agitated embrace that makes Lance burn in a satisfying way. He wasn’t like the others, he couldn’t be. No one wanted a wingless. Nothing was ever permanent, not even love.

Lance comes up for air, swallowing a lungful before smoothing back down into the deep. The few seconds he’s up, he hears the team,incomprehensible , but they’ve figured out he’s leaving. Fear pounding at the brittle door calm forces up in his head, Lance dives deeper, the water turning darker without the sunlight. He can still see, but the water is a murky, dusty blue, not the clear, aqua where the light reflects easily. His speed is probably breaking any records he’s had before. Nothing like the people you came to love hating you to make you have a lighting fast exit.

Rocketing through the water, Lance left giant disturbances in his wake. Air bubbles burst out of existence behind him. He had already shifted when he came up for air - his hands curved out his path with the webbing, and the water pressure boxed gently on his ears. His knees weren’t knees anymore, just two long, flat masses of flesh and bone that shot him through the water. The second pair of eyelids he had blinked out any grime in the water, the rhythm different and more pronounced than his first pair. His tongue pressed against the sharp eyeteeth in his mouth, the threat of nicking his tongue grounding him.

He doesn’t know how long he swims, limbs throbbing with fluid energy. He goes until rocks start to spike up, some gentle curves and other sudden daggers slicing through the water. Miles below, he can spot the muddled, bright light purple and galaxy red glow of underwater volcanoes in the darkness. Lance hasn’t seen anything alive yet, but he knew better than to test it by exploring near lava.

Gliding up against the smooth rock, Lance spots the openings to caves, pretty corals fanning out from them and shells dotted here and there. Clutching his jacket tighter, he twists through one. It’s small, and hallow, the water pooling much lower than the majority of the rock. The roaring of the waves crashing washes over the cave, but the cave shelters him. Coal black rock juts out here and there, blocky, but gorgeous in the way only sea caves were. Soft colored crystals lit up small patches of shadow, a handful clustered around an alcove.

Carefully, he clambers up the dry rock to the opening and settles back into it, his knees pulled to his chest, cheek resting against the even rock. The anxiety coils up inside his neck.

Now they despise you.

I mean, why wouldn’t they?

Even you despise you.

Useless, ugly, waste of space. Wingless.

Just drown in that goddamn ugly water you call home.

It suits you.

Nothing but extra weight.

God, why do you exist?

Chilly air pricks at Lance’s bare feet. He tucks himself tighter, wriggling his toes. His jacket is drenched, but he drapes it around the exposed parts of his back. He clings to the rock, hoping the warmth will come back. He’s not freezing, but numb, like rain soaked pavement.

Leave already!

He could stop here, lulled by the tune of a sea that wasn’t his, void emotions filling up his silhouette, abandoned by himself, half asleep in a crevice with a mundane storm brewing over head.

Yes, this would make a good rest stop.

anonymous asked:

Head cannons for Pennywise when the reader is horny beyond belief and looking for any relief from it? Like they have a period or something (cause I get hella horny around that time to the point I feel pathetic.)

oooh girl I can relate…

  • you were always so ridiculously horny when that time of the month came around
  • you laid in your bed for hours just touching yourself and never getting tired, your female anatomy allowing you to orgasm over and over again
  • this time was a little different
  • you wanted to feel someone else’s touch so bad, you craved it
  • you didn’t let yourself orgasm, you edged closer and closer and kept putting it off because you knew it would be worth it when you had the most intense orgasm of your life
  • you wanted someone to fuck you
  • something big inside you
  • an idea occurred to you
  • you got up and wiped your bloody fingers on a baby wipe, walked around your room and scrambled to find anything you could put inside you
  • you found nothing
  • you scrolled through your phone, thought of calling someone to help you out
  • you quickly realized how stupid that was, how desperate you would seem, and who would want to fuck you on your period, all bloody and gross?
  • you just needed a cock inside you, fucking you the way you had been fantasizing about all day - rough and hard and deep
  • you sat on your bed with a huff, went back to touching yourself for a few moments before you stopped again and groaned
  • you need something inside you now and your fingers weren’t cutting it
  • at this point you’d fuck anyone that you could get your hands on, put anything you could find inside yourself
  • a cucumber from the fridge would suffice
  • but your mom would ask you where it went
  • you knew you had to find something…
  • “What’s the matter, darling?”
  • a voice startled you and caused you to jump back on your bed
  • “Pennywise,” you frowned.
  • this clown…
  • he was standing by your door
  • you had talked to him a bunch of times before and he was always so creepy
  • you found yourself so tense and uneasy around him
  • he had a smirk on his face and his eyes glowed
  • “Looking for something?”
  • You gulped
  • he knew
  • he had been watching you
  • something in your chest sank for a brief moment before reemerging as curiosity
  • did pennywise… want to do something with you?
  • or was he just trying to embarrass you? scare you? remind you that he was always watching?
  • “You should go,” you stammered out.
  • Pennywise shook his head very slowly
  • “I can’t leave you like this,” he glided towards you and you flinched
  • his intentions were becoming clearer
  • you blinked, having no clue what to say
  • suddenly he was directly in front of you and he pressed a firm hand to your chest and pushed you down flat on the bed
  • you gasped, too shocked to try and sit up again
  • you started to say something- multiple things - but no full words came out
  • he giggled softly, amused at your helplessness
  • his hands reached for your pants and you found yourself not wanting to push him away just out of pure curiosity, but you still smacked his hands away
  • this was all so wrong
  • could you really let this happen?
  • god, imagine the things he could do to you though
  • “No, I’m-”
  • “Bleeding,” he grinned wide.
  • you stared at him wide-eyed
  • “It would be my pleasure,” he crooned.
  • you were breathless as he yanked your pants down and threw them to the floor, your top too
  • it all happened in a matter of moments and he was so rough you had a hard time objecting
  • oh god oh god oh god your blood was going to get all over the blood
  • is that really the first thing you’re worrying about?
  • he groaned lowly, sitting on his knees and grasping your thighs to pull you forward, spreading your legs in the process
  • you reached your hand out in a last effort to stop him but his lips latched onto your swollen clit hungrily and there was no stopping him now
  • you whined and threw your head back in the initial shock of finally being touched
  • you decided to stay there because how could you watch him do this to you?
  • he proceeded for a minute or so, sucking and licking and eating your clit
  • then you felt his tongue slip out of his mouth and lap at your pussy, teasing your entrance and you felt compelled to look
  • you gasped as you saw his extremely long and fat tongue licking you all over and then thrusting past your lips and nestling inside of you
  • he used his tongue to thrust in and out of your pussy, sending warmth and electricity through you
  • this is exactly what you needed
  • you arched your back and guiltily thrust your hips forward
  • his hands reached up to grab your breasts
  • you squeezed his hand and squirmed, his tongue still working inside of you
  • this was pure ecstasy
  • it was becoming too much to take
  • you had been edging all day, your orgasm came quick and you clenched hard around his tongue, your orgasm rolling out of you in a beautiful warm wave
  • you panted as you tried to collect your breath, exhausted from what just happened
  • you glanced down at him only to see his white complexion smeared with blood, and a wicked grin on his face
  • he stood and towered over you, in between your legs that were still spread
  • “That’s my girl,” he purred.
  • you shook your head, wanting to object to what he was saying
  • his?
  • you tried to sit up but he only pushed you down again
  • “You make a delicious snack.”
  • something inside you fumed, but something else felt immensely satisfied and turned on still
  • somewhere in the back of your mind you knew that this would probably happen again, maybe very soon
  • periods don’t last just one day, after all…

Just a game pt 6

When a college reunion takes an unusual turn, the reader finds herself amidst a game of truth or dare not knowing that at the declaration of dare would change her life into a spiral of trouble with the mysterious clown that lives in the sewers. Now her thoughts and dreams are haunted by him and she knows he loves to play…

…the reader knows she’s well and truly fucked after her steamy dream about Pennywise. It was so naughty and messed up but her body desires him probably more than life at that point. But was one night, maybe two worth it with the clown before he devoured her? Or was the will to live even stronger?


Warning: s m u t

Hey guys we are here with part 6 of this series. I think I see the end on the horizon as much as I hate to say, but what do you think? I don’t want this to end but everything does. Thanks for the support since I started this, I say this every time but I honestly appreciate you all. I’m literally gaining nearly a hundred a day which is insane! I will open requests when this story is over cuz it’ll be fun. One thing though, send me direct dms if you wanna talk cuz I can’t answer asks and I can only reply to comments via my main but people will be confused haha. Also, let me know if you wanna be tagged in this and future works. Anyway, let’s get to the story this is too long.

If you do not like this kind of content then just scroll on, it’s not worth reading and saying shit about. I am trying to keep out the main It movie tags.


=====================================

You knew they suspected something. It was the day following your erotic dream and you were in the diner from the first day getting breakfast. You were on edge constantly, your hands gripping onto your returned phone. For some miracle, it was working still which was good because now you wouldn’t have to take to replace it or lose all your files. The problem you had though was it just reminded you of Pennywise which spurred on your internal desires.

“(Y/n)?”

You heard your voice being called. You blinked and your head slightly turned to your friend who’d spoken.

“Sorry, what did you say?” You asked. They gave you an odd look, brows furrowed slightly and eyes wide.

“We were all talking for ages about what we were all gonna go back to after this trip but you haven’t even been listening.” They shot at you. Damn. You felt ashamed with yourself that you’d become so easily distracted that you were neglecting the time with your friends. You pushed your hair behind your ear and cleared your throat.

“Sorry, just tired.” You lied carefully. (Bf/n) scoffed.

“You can’t be, we weren’t out for very long and you went straight to bed.”

You cursed under your breath and scowled.

“Yeah well I woke up and I couldnt get back to sleep so easily.” You shot back agitatedly. Your best friend’s eyes narrowed slightly and she opened her mouth to argue back but luckily for all of you one of the others cut in.

“Hey! Both of you need to stop this! Ever since we came back here you’ve been at each other’s throats nearly the whole time! It’s like you’re not even the closest anymore.”

You bit your lip at you gazed at the woman of whom you’d nearly grown up with and you saw desperation in her eyes. Desperation to know what was happening to you and if she could help. You sighed gently, releasing your lip from your teeth.

“I’m sorry… I just- there’s a lot happening right now, stuff that is because of the return to this town. It’s really messing with me and in return for it I’m being a real bitch.” You mutter. You half expected to be waved off and for your friends to laugh but instead there was a wave of sympathy that surprised you. The friend next to you took your hand and rubbed her thumb over your knuckles.

“Hey, we noticed this too. Maybe coming back here really was a bad idea, and then with those child disappearances is really not helping the situation. Maybe we should bring this vacation to an end or something.” She suggested. Your eyes briefly met (bf/n)’s.

“I…I’m already leaving at the end of the week.”

Silence followed your words and you felt your heart jolt fearfully. Were they unhappy that you had decided this alone? But then the male in the group nodded.

“That’s fair. We can all just regroup somewhere else some day anyway. Let’s just cherish the rest of the week.”

You smiled in appreciation. You could do this.


<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>


After breakfast you all had decided to go to the friend that lived in Derry’s house for a bit of quiet time. No one wanted to watch the television because the only thing being shown were broadcasts about the missing children and propaganda of the parents sobbing and begging everyone to come fourth with any news on their children. It was too upsetting and you knew the others suspected you would have a breakdown if you were to hear anymore on the children.

You knew it was on you, Pennywise wanted you to know that you couldn’t possibly win when it came to his game so he was trying to lead you to him and let him have his way with you. At times you were so tempted to just give up and take yourself down to the sewers and seek him out, let him destroy your mind and your body, but a more fearful part of you, one that wished to live pulled you from these thoughts because the possibility of dying was terrifying. You would tell yourself that it was only a few days until you’d leave Derry and never return and you would be set on that path instead.

You realised that once again you were deep in your thoughts which were a dangerous place to be in that moment. You groaned a little and ran your hands through your hair. You hadn’t noticed that two of the others were playing video games whilst the others watched because you were so lost in your head. You pushed off the sofa you were sat on, your head spinning. It caught the attention of the others for the game was paused and heads turned in your direction.

“(Y/n)? Where you going?”

“I’ll be right back. Just going to the bathroom.” Your voice was hoarse and weak, you doubted that anyone had caught wind of what you’d said. You didn’t hang around long enough to find out though. The climb up the staircase was unusually sluggish and slow as you dragged your feet up each step. The floorboards creaked when you stumbled along the landing to the bathroom. You shoved the door open and slammed it shut behind you and let your composure slip. You were exhausted, your heart pounding as it would if you’d run a marathon and your skin felt clammy. You propped yourself up against the sink with your hands and stared down at the faucet until you reached and turned one of the nobs and listened to the water hit the sink bowl.

You’d absolutely no idea what was wrong with you, why you were feeling so sickly all of a sudden. The only explanation for your state was lack of sleep but you were used to being up late anyway and not being affected like this. It hurt your head trying to find an explanation so you resorted to cupping your hands and allowing the water to pool in them before splashing your face in attempt to reawaken. And then you felt it. Someone was right behind you.

You turned sharply, face still dripping water down your shirt and you were ready scream the house down. However, an all too familiar cotton gloved hand speedily smothered your mouth for they knew you would react like so. Pennywise smirked as he towered over you.

“Hi there, little one. Fancy meeting you here in a bathroom.” His voice was the same chilling mix of gruff and squeaky, exactly as it had been in your dream. “I hope you slept well last night, it would be a shame for you to lose out on sleep.”

You could hear the utter tease and sarcasm in his voice and it had you lean away from him, his hand still over your mouth to prevent you from making noise. It was him who was responsible for that dream. You should have known it was. What else should you have expected? It was ways going to be him. He knew you were thinking this for a chuckle rumbled through his chest, so much so that you could feel the vibrations in your body and it sent a tingle through your nervous system. You pried his hand away from your mouth but he only moved it to cup your chin, his thumb stroking you.

“Fuck you. Just leave me alone.” You said quietly. His head leaned down towards you until he was inches away.

“I know you plan on leaving here and never coming back,” he began, and then he moved closer still until his lips brushed against your ear, “but I won’t let you.” He whispered.

Your whole body was trembling again at this point as his breaths tickled your skin. He can smell your fear as it radiates off of you. But it’s mixed with another scent; something primal and sweet. He leaned away from your ear to your face and you could see drool beginning to slowly dribble down his chin.

“I can smell more than fear… You know what I smell, little one.”

You whimpered pathetically and pressed your ass against the sink harshly, anything to get away from him and his words. He knew you’re both terrified aroused by him and knew he could use it to his advantage. He closed the small space between you both, now chest to chest with you (more like your head to his chest) and you could only smell him. Of all the times you’d encountered him, you expected him to stink of the sewers but that wasn’t the case at all. He smelt oddly like candy floss or popcorn, but then again, he was trying to portray a clown.

You stare up at him fearfully, biting your lip. He licks his own plump lips, smearing saliva around. His buck teeth are exposed to you as he does so. You hate that you dreamt of him sinking those teeth into you and you hate yourself more that you were thinking of him doing it in reality. Right now.

Pennywise slowly leaned his face down close to yours and his lips barely brushed against your lips like a feather and your head moved to follow them. The clown chuckled deeply at your reaction.

“You tell me to leave you alone but then you’re craving me so much… Just submit, little one, it’ll be worth your while.”

You’re conflicted. If only you’d stayed downstairs. You wouldn’t be in this position now, a monster clown seducing you whilst scaring the fuck out of you at the same time. You’re unable to decide not to play his game for the hand that wasn’t gripping onto your chin was now cupping your warm sex through your pants. A sharp gasp filtered through your lips at the sudden touch and he giggled. You gulped a moan away as his long fingers teased.

“P-please!” You whined. He tutted and pressed his fingers on his other hand on your mouth.

“Shh…You’re gonna attract the attention of the others downstairs and we don’t want that, do we?” He reminded you. You’d forgotten that you were in your friend’s home and everyone was only a floor down. But it was difficult to keep quiet for the clown had now slid his gloved hand into your pants, your thighs parting for him, and was brushing his fingers against your sensitive cunt. The fabric of his glove was so soft and thin that you could feel the heat of his fingertips still.

He massaged your tingling clit with his thumb whilst his longest finger slid into your slick, burning entrance. A moan was definitely about to escape your mouth so you did the only thing you could think of; your mouth closed around his fingers and you bit down slightly, sucking on them. Pennywise grunted in utter surprise and his eyes were wide in fascination.

“What’s this?” He questioned rhetorically as your eyes fluttered shut. A second finger had joined the mix in your hole and your hips had begun to buck slightly. You had an idea, one that you’d never considered before. Whilst his fingers moved quickly in and out of you and his thumb circled faster and faster, you reached one of your hands out and continued forward until you could feel his crotchular area. Pennywise hissed sharply and sure enough, you could feel a cock there because it twitched under your touch. The hand in your mouth was ripped away with a string of your saliva connecting to it and he grabbed your hand, pulling it away from his cock.

“What are you doing?” He growled. Your body had tensed but his hand in your pants still moved.

“I-” you couldn’t answer as his fingers curled up into your g-spot, stars filling your vision like a hazy filter. You moaned loudly, your head thrown back. Your friends downstairs were definitely able to hear that, you thought to yourself. Pennywise realised this too and so he slammed his lips to yours for a kiss to silence you. His fingers worked faster as his mission to make you cum became the only thing that mattered. You loved his lips on yours, even if it meant he had to keep you quiet for in reality you didn’t care if they could hear you anymore.

The sound of your cunt squelching wetly around his fingers filled the room and you could feel yourself drawing near to your orgasm. It was too good, your mouth opening and it being invaded by the clown’s tongue. He also tasted sweet, something you really didn’t expect at all but you loved it.

With one last thrust of his fingers against your g-spot and a pinch of your clit your hips were jolting and your whole body trembled violently, your moans being swallowed by the clown’s mouth. This was the most powerful orgasm you’d ever experienced and you knew no human could ever top this for as long as you lived. You felt so wet and dirty when Pennywise eventually slipped his hand out of your pants and when he pulled away from the kiss you watched as he brought his soaked hand to his lips and suck on them, tasting your juices. Your were breathless as you slumped against Pennywise, much to his surprise. Your body would occasionally twitch with the aftershocks of the orgasm but you did not move until your heart rate had slowed and Pennywise did not push you away. You chuckled softly.

“I’m so fucked.” You breathed. Pennywise smirked and pushed your hair behind your ear from where it had fallen forward.

“You are. It’s…interesting.”

You said no more, you couldn’t. The sound of knocking on the otherwise of the bathroom door made you freeze.

“(Y/n)? Are you doing alright in there, you’ve been a long time.” One of your friends called. Pennywise winks and before your eyes he is gone, leaving you on your own. You cleared your throat and attempted not to sound like you’d been in an intimate situation.

“I’m fine. I just needed to take some time.” You replied clearly. You turned back to the sink and your eyes catch the mirror. Your skin is flushed and there’s red paint around your lips. In your post orgasmic high you chuckle at the mess before you began to wash it off. This trip to Derry had been a rollercoaster.

=====================================

Yoooo it’s super late whenever I upload, Like rn it’s nearly 12:40am. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and here are the tags,

@kurai-ai @perfect-ginger-maniac @kaylees1414 @cupcakeatl @deaths-maiden @knaivity

My First One Star Review on AirBnB

Story by shawk11/reddit

Buckle up boys and girls. My buddy and I just experienced some grade-A Creepyshit while on a trip to Red Rocks in Colorado. I write a lot of things down anyway and so I figured I might as well post the story here and see what you guys think.

So who here has used AirBnB? raises hand. I think I’ve used it no less than twenty times. All great experiences up until this point, seriously.

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anonymous asked:

I wish you would write a fic about Scott getting werewolf drunk with Derek and accidentally letting it slip that Stiles is on love with Derek. (In honor of your drinking) ;)

“Scott, I’m going to kill you!”

The door of his apartment banged open and for the first time in years, Scott jumped in shock. His coffee mug hit the kitchen tile and shattered, piping hot coffee splashed over his bare feet, and he suddenly remembered Stiles saying at some point that he was learning how to mask his presence from werewolves.

Apparently he mastered that particular skill.

And how to magically and silently open a deadbolt.

Normally Scott would pick up Stiles’ familiar heartbeat two floors down, and his jeep while it was still a ways down the road, but this time, there had been nothing. No heartbeat, no jeep, not even footsteps in the hallway—until suddenly there was everything. Elevated heart rate, clouds of anger wafting through the apartment, Stiles stomping closer, furious for some reason, and Scott could do nothing to prepare himself because for the first time in his life, he was hungover.

Really hungover.

He was dying, because just the night before, he discovered in the stupidest way possible that yes, werewolves could get drunk with the right tools and a little determination. And the right tool was some crazy strong alcohol Stiles brought back from Poland last year that could punch straight through even an alpha werewolf’s metabolism. And what did he do with that discovery?

Shots.

Like a college freshman away from home for the first time, buckling under immense peer pressure.

He was hungover, he was dying, and he was an idiot.

An idiot who Stiles was apparently about to murder, judging by his murderous expression when he turned the corner and locked his wild, murderous gaze on Scott. His hair was tugged up in every direction, he’d probably slept in that loose and stretched shirt, and he had the manic energy of a man who’d been roaming the streets looking for vengeance.

It had been years since Scott last felt any kind of inkling of fear towards his best friend, but right then, standing in his underwear in a puddle of hot coffee, feeling nauseous and fuzzy and somehow bloated—he was horribly aware of the mountain ash that Stiles always had on him. It was the emissary’s favorite threat towards werewolves who pissed him off, and while he rarely ever followed through with it, that murderous face promised no empty threats. Just revenge.

Scott stepped out of the puddle of hot coffee. That was really all he could do to improve the situation.

“You told him,” Stiles accused, eyes narrowed with rage as he stalked closer. “You actually told him, I can’t believe you would tell him!”

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Ray Theory

*SPOILERS FOR THE V ROUTE AND RAY’S REAL NAME BELOW YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED*

*Hey guys! Please give me feedback on my Ray Theory if you would like! Also please send a message if you have any theories about his case as well! I love conspiracy theories so I would love to hear from you all!

I would also like to stay that this is just a theory! If you suffer from any sot of mental disorder or DID please do not take any offense to this at all! If I am wrong about something please correct me! Thank you!*


Part 2 Here!


So, I just finished the V route and man do I have theories on this! I’m very hopeful that Ray will get a route as well and from what I’ve seen I think it’s inevitable that soon enough there will be. But, let’s get on with the theory.

So, I think it’s obvious from the dialogue that Ray has some… mental issues. Most likely due to extreme brainwashing, the elixir Mint-Eye provided, and trauma. He has a lot of extreme issues. But let’s talk about an interesting moment I discovered.

So in this moment, Ray claims to be in pain. When the MC asks what happened, he replies that he drank the elixir Rika gave him. He says that he logged on to forget the pain.

Later on the pain becomes overbearing and this is where it gets interesting.

He claims that “he” is here. Who you might ask, well none other than the one and only Unknown!

This is what got me thinking. We all know what Unknown looks like since he appears in the casual and deep stories. Ray and him are supposed to be one person, Saeran. But oddly, instead of being on entity, they appear to be two different personalities. Unknown claims that they take turns ”sleeping” and that he sleeps more often than Ray.

He also claims that he can hear Ray even when he’s asleep, so they both share the same mind and memories.

While Ray is the sweet and obsessive kind, he may show how he cares a little oddly but he has a soft spot for the MC and feels for her. But Unknown, he, like Ray, believes in everything the Savior has done for him but to an extreme extent. He has no deep feelings for the MC other than wanting her as his “assistant” to get his revenge on the RFA. He also is rougher and insults Ray. He seems to not care about anything other than the Mint-Eye.’

I mean even their appearances are completely different.

Ray has a more soft look to him, frilly even. It shows how he has a more caring and upbeat personality.

Unknown (Edgelord™) has an edgy style. It shows he’s rougher on the edges and has an “i don’t care” personality.

This is what brought me to my final conclusion that most of you have probably come to. Saran has a split personality disorder.

Cheritz, you really went all out in this route. So many questions about Saran were answered! Although not all, we got a new insight into him.

So, from what I can deter, Saeran suffers from a disorder more formally known as Dissociative Identity Disorder. Now this is only a theory, but could this game get any deeper? We all were aware that the people of Mint-Eye had many mental issues. Especially Saeran since he’s been exposed to this from a young age. When will we ever get to help him?

Now, for the information part of this theory. Dissociative Identity Disorder is very rare. it only affects approximately 1% of the population of the world. But studies show that children tend to have more cases than adults. This is usually caused by extreme trauma and the such.

This is where Rika comes into play. Rika, whether it be the drug, brainwashing, or something along those lines, also seems to have a type of personality issue. Though, hers is not to the extreme point of Saeran’s.

This DID case for Saeran most likely came to light from the so called elixir Rika had been making him take for years, since it triggers his other personality.

We saw Unknown in the common and deep stories, but it you look closely and reread, You can also point out some Ray aspects in Unknown’s personality, especially in Seven’s route.

Saran was put under the Ray persona due to Rika and her influence on him. He believes every word she says and due to this, he has not only gotten DID, but has also forgotten himself.

In conclusion, I hope that Cheritz considers making an Unknown route if they already don’t have one planned or in the works. I want to understand his mental disorders and learn how he came to be the way he is. What was his breaking point? When did Ray and Unknown make an appearance? How will his happy ending come? For now, let’s enjoy V’s route and cheer on Cheritz to make a Saeran route in the near future! Go give them some love!

Bruise [ II ]

Genre [Rating] : Angst [M]

Length: 10.3k

Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader

Summary: He wasn’t yours, and you weren’t his, but that couldn’t stop your heart from believing otherwise.

Part One: x Part Three: x Part Four: x Part Five: x

Originally posted by pcycho61

The cool air whipping at your skin made a shiver spread along your spine, hands rubbing at your biceps as your teeth chattered behind your pressed together lips. Loud laughter and screams filled the air, the night lit up by warm orange hues of carnival rides and haunted houses. Your feet felt stiff, trapped in a pair of uncomfortable sneakers you regretted wearing, eyes glued to the back of Minseok’s head as he told your friends something apparently hilarious. It was far too cold out to be stuck in a stupid line for a stupid haunted house in a tank top and torn up skinny jeans. You were too annoyed to continue being stuck in front of Chanyeol and Sehun as they flirted with a group of girls behind you, Chanyeol’s cologne wafting to your nose whenever he moved his arms about.

Keep reading

Lazy Days with Tom (and Tessa)...
  • waking up, stretching, then turning around to face Tom who was already slightly pouting, wearing his signature puppy dog eyes
    • please,” he’d whine while making grabby hands towards you
    • sighing but finally giving into him
  • that day would be a designated lazy day where you’d do nothing but stay in bed and cuddle 
  • and fuck 
  • he’d have bedhead the entire day and it made him look that much more soft 
    • “mmm, you’re so warm,” he’d mumble into your neck as he draped his body over yours
  • hearing light scratching and whimpering at the door signalling that Tessa was up and not happy that she had not been fed yet
    • “she’s your dog, you feed her,” you’d argue as you both figured out who would have to get out of bed
    • “but you’re her mommy,” he’d pout and bat his eyelashes for extra effect making you roll your eyes and sigh
  • eventually you both get up because neither of you came to a conclusion 
  • Tessa jumping all over you and Tom once the door is opened
    • “c’mon, darling, this way,” Tom would coo at Tessa and you’d just swoon even harder for him
  • feeding Tessa before you even think about your own breakfast
    • “what do you feel like eating?” You ask before Tom comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around you waist and resting his head on your shoulder
    • but then whispering “you,” in your ear before lifting you onto the counter 
  • kitchen sex is a given, duh
    • “so really, what do you want for breakfast,” as you both become giggly messes cleaning each other up
  • deciding on pancakes cause its cliche and easy to make 
  • Tom eyeing the batter, wanting to stick his finger in it to smear it on your face
  • you aren’t dumb and you see right through him
    • “don’t even think about it,” while you’re in the middle of flipping a pancake
    • he just freezes because how did you know ????
  • him dancing around the kitchen with Tessa distracting you to the point of almost burning the pancakes 
  • him finally being useful and setting the table and cutting up some strawberries 
  • instead of sitting across from you, he set the table so he’d be beside you and you think it’s the cutest thing ever
    • “I just like being near you s’all,” he shrugs but you see the blush 
    • “I like being near you too,” you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek before grabbing his arm so he’d sit as well
  • having friends play in the background as you both talk about whatever comes to mind
  • he ends up smearing the maple syrup over your nose as you squeal 
    • “I’ll get it,” with a smirk and a wink before he kisses it off
  • you washing the dishes and him drying them because you’re a team™
  • Tessa getting ansty knowing she wants to go for a walk and probably go to the bathroom 
    • “we can let her out in the yard, she’ll be fine,” he promises but you see how sunny it is outside and suggest to go for a walk instead
  • even though it’s sunny, it’s pretty cold so Tom bundles you up in his sweater, pulling one of his beanies over your head, and pressing a kiss to your nose
  • Tessa almost dragging Tom around the park 
  • you can’t stop laughing at it
    • “baby it’s not my fault, she’s a strong girl,”
  • finally the three of you are getting pooped so you head back
  • where Tom pulls you into bed almost the second you’re back in your room
    • “let’s take a nap,” he mumbles 
    • he’s out before you can even reply
  • but you just play with his hair deciding on catching up on your reading since this is the only peaceful time you have 
  • Tessa barging into your room and jumping onto the bed, waking Tom up 
  • you can’t even scold her because Tom loves her so much 
    • “aw babygirl just missed her mommy and daddy,” he’d chuckle as Tessa cuddled in between the two of you
  • she’d get so many belly and head scratches 
  • best day for her hands down 
  • but then Tom shooing her away out of the room, confusing you
    • “why’d you kick her out ????”
    • “because I don’t want her seeing what’s gonna happen next,”
  • lazy, but passionate sex 
  • twice
  • Tom ordering pizza and setting a timer for when it should get there 
    • “it it’s not here in forty minutes it’s free!!” 
    • and you’d just laugh at him but it’s so cute 
  • flipping a coin to see who has to answer the door 
  • it ends up being Tom and he just grumbles about how you’re lucky I love you
  • he ordered so much pizza for two people 
    • “there’s no way we’re gonna finish all this,” 
    • “I’m a growing boy, let me eat,”
  • more sex because he can’t get enough of you 
  • but when it starts to get dark you lay your head in his lap as he plays with your hair while watching a movie 
  • you don’t realise you’ve dozed off until Tom’s peppering you with kisses
    • “I made us some tea, love,”
  • taking the mug and thanking him before cuddling into his side once again 
  • deciding to play mario kart but it just ends up in Tom whining like a little baby because he can’t seem to win against you 
  • makeup sex !!!!
  • finally you’re both getting tired
  • and Tessa’s already in bed with you, cuddling with you both as you and Tom just stare at each other in complete darkness 
    • “I love you so much, darling,” he’d whisper into your ear, sending shivers down your spine 
    • mumbling, “love you more,” in your drowsy state 
    • hearing a faint, “love you most,” from him before falling asleep against his chest with a smile on your face
  • Tom watches you drift off thinking how he’s the luckiest guy before falling asleep himself

WOW OK I NEED A SNACK BREAK

cute couple things — p.p.

summary : extended dating peter would include… ft. a bunch of random thoughts i had about peter being a cute soft boyfriend !!!

  • reads your favorite books and memorizes lines from them that he can sneak into conversations to make you smile :)
  • it’s v hard for him to not look at you when he’s with you he just always wants to be looking at your face
    • “it’s, like, really hard to stop staring at you”
    • “huh?”
    • “you’re so pretty i can’t stop looking wow”
  • lights up !!!! when you walk into a room even if he’s just seen you two minutes ago and you were only in the bathroom for like a second
  • kisses you all of your face whenever he can just infinite amounts of kisses pressed across your cheeks and your nose and your eyelids 
  • he doesn’t really do nicknames like he’s not a darling sort of person
  • if he’s gonna call you anything it’ll probably be babe/baby/pretty girl or something of that sort
  •  (i started the pretty girl trend on the low don’t @ me)
  • sometimes you call him bro and he gets so offended 
    • “listen,,, peter,,, bro,,,,”
    • y/NNNN i’m not bro!!!!!!”
    • “k bro”
    • “you’re the worst” 
  • his face resembles that of a disgruntled pouty kitten whenever you call him bro
  • in school he taps his cheek lightly while facing away from you until you give him a kiss there and does that periodically throughout the day until MJ throws a pencil at him
    • “peter enough she’s kissed you like fifty times in the past twenty minutes haven’t you had enough”
    • “it’s never enough”
  • hands down gives the best hugs ever!!!! sweetest, softest, warmest hugs that you never wanna leave and they leave you a blushy mess for hours
  • nerd who tells you that you’re prettier than any star in the sky
  • will fight for your honor even if it means getting punched in the nose by one of flash’s bigger friends because flash won’t take on peter himself
    • “fuck peter why would you even call flash a giant dick??? like i know he is one but why would you ever you know his friend is like some sort of mutant tree”
    • “he said your butt was nice i can’t just let that sort of comment slide babe it’s unacceptable”
  • always knows he can rant to you about science bc you actually listen!!! and you care!! and you ask questions and you make him SO HAPPy!!
  • asks for permission to do everything
    • “hey would it be cool if i held your hand right now”
    • “yes of course”
    • “oh awesome!”
  • you send him selfies and his replies vary but they’re usually along the lines of
    • “oh my gosh you’re so cute i’m coming over”
    • “i love you you angel let me kiss you tomorrow”
    • “wow i have a real liFE ethereal as the love of my life i love the world”
  • sends a goodnight/goodmorning text every day with each heart emoji he can find 
  • his entire recently used section is just different colored hearts and rainbows and sparkles because he uses emojis obnoxiously
  • he’s convinced that the worst thing in the world is having to leave you after a long day of hanging out on a saturday or something
  • will 10/10 complain for hours to may about going home because he’s not with you anymore and he’s clingy
  • you’re his best friend and he’s not afraid to scream about it
    • “my best friend is dating me!!!!!!! i’m so lucky i love them so much” 
    • “peter we know”
    • “well now you know just a little extra all right?”
  • wishes you were able to fall asleep in his arms more often but you’re still young and he’s like oh well we have forever to do that
  • you insult each other all the time basically but??? you both love it banter is everything
      • “penis parKER flash is clever tbh”
      • “you’re such a little shit i’m actually going to fight you”
      • “seriously i dare you put your fists up now”
  • if you post a selfie and he doesn’t like it right away you’ll text him seven times in a row hinting that he should go like and comment 
  • texts at four am about random conspiracy theories or weird facts that only you two would find interesting 
  • shoulders = pillows on the train/bus most of the time
  • he is such a slut for having his hair played with ngl
  • it makes him so happy n calm he could lie like that, with your fingers just raking through his hair, for hours on end
  • he’s never felt more at home than when you’re sitting with him at his kitchen table eating mushy mac and cheese that he tried to make himself because may wasn’t home to help him out as you playfully make fun of him for ruining pasta
  • listens to ed sheeran songs with you because he’s an ed lover honestly and every song makes him think of you
  • hand massages when you’re cramping up after long tests or in class essays that leave you super stressed n anxious (fuck u ruby thx for the idea that murdered me n my soft spirit)
  • knows how to settle you nerves better than anyone else and vice versa
  • puts his hands on your cheeks before he kisses you 
  • you always joke about spidey in class and no one gets what you’re saying but he does and freaks out
    • “that’s a sticky situation”
    • “y/n” 
    • “don’t worry i found that on the web
    • y/n
    • “do you think spiders are men
    • “oh my gOD”
  • he doesn’t care at all if you take one of his sweaters or all of his sweaters he just gives zero fucks you could take them all and he’d love you for it 
    • “here take this one too”
    • “peter i have too many and it’s almost april”
    • “but you’d look so cute in this one” then he pouts and you’re a goner
  • peter writes you tiny notes in class that are his weird thoughts and ramblings and feelings but you save them all and put them in a memory box
    • there was one and it said here’s a concept : you have a bright future ahead of you, and i’m there. i like that concept.
      • you did, too
  • watches every cheesy romantic movie on netflix with you not just because you want to, but because he does too and he can’t help it that’s just how it is 
  • matching ugly christmas sweaters at christmastime because peter parker is an annoying headass and refuseS to go anywhere without one during the holiday season and if he’s wearing one he’s making you match
  • super spidey strength allows him to give you piggy back rides all throughout manhattan when you guys head to the city 
  • makes you kiss him in the rain even though there’s water up your nose and your hair is matted to your forehead 
  • one text makes your heart go !!!!!!!!! because that’s your boy!!!!! and you love him so much because he’s a lovely beautiful person that deserves the world !!!!!
  • making out is rarely super fast n intense like it’s still intense but you go slowly and you can make out for hours without a c are in the world
  • makes sure his hair looks nice before he goes out on a date with you
  • tells you that he loves you and that he’s happy you’re a part of his life as often as he can manage 
  • just wants to love you unconditionally forever
  • texts you at 11:11 every night and says something cheesy as fuck like “you’re my wish tonight babe” or “11:11 is always for you” and sometimes he’ll @ you on snap and you’re like wow we’re That couple 
  • but honestly???? you don’t care that much he’s so cute
  • knows your order at every restaurant/fast food chain/coffee shop imaginable and if he happens to pass by a mcdonalds or dunkin donuts while he’s swinging around queens he tries to pick something up for you 
  • you love his eyes you could probably get lost in them they’re gorgeous
    • “peter your eyes are so lovely i hate you”
    • “aw i love you more babe you say the sweetest things to me”
  • you think his smile is the prettiest thing ever
  • and when his face scrunches up when he’s super happY???? amazing you kiss him immediately everywhere and he gets so flustered and he giggles and tries to squirm away but not really
  • cause he loves it
  • and he loveS YOU
  • i love my boyfriend goodnight to all

Keep reading

Bruise [ III ]

Genre [Rating] : Angst [M]

Length: 9.1k

Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader

Summary: He wasn’t yours, and you weren’t his, but that couldn’t stop your heart from believing otherwise.

Part One: x Part Two: x Part Four: x Part Five: x

Originally posted by porkdo-bi

The white cream swirled about in the dark coffee in front of you, your fingers clasped around the warm, pastel orange mug as the steam floated up in hazy waves. There were signs of life all around you, couples sharing intimate lunches and students laughing away their course work. The street outside the window in front of you was busy, bustling with people and lined with fall kissed trees, branches adorned in warm tones, rustling when a breeze blew. Despite the heat of life all around you, you felt cold, like your bones were made of ice, like your heart was encased in snow. The book across the table was pushed aside as Minseok sat back down, coffee in hand and round golden glasses perched on his nose as he exhaled heavily, ready to listen.

“Do you want to start or should I?”

Keep reading

Transference (M) – Chapter 07

cr. [X] 

Summary: You and Hoseok struggle separately to process what has transpired between you.

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 7,733

Warning: Tantric!Hoseok, therapist/client relationship, mentions of alcohol, profanity.

A/N:  This chapter contains both the Reader and Hoseok’s POV and will be labeled whenever it switches. It’s a sad one, but necessary for the rest of the series. Hope you enjoy!

Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07

Keep reading

Bring It On | 01

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

❝You had long since gotten over your crush on your co captain slash roommate, Jimin. Other than the occasional wandering hand that maybe wasn’t so appropriate for someone who was supposed to be supporting you while you were in the air, or congratulatory smack on the ass after practice he was uninterested. Very, very, very much uninterested.❞

 

You blink down at your lunch tray, a scathing look marring your face when you note the mushed grool on your plate is probably leftovers from yesterday. You eye the cafeteria lady warily when she plops another serving on your tray, expression deadpan—you take longer to move along in line and she thinks she’s doing you a favor by serving you seconds.

“Greta,” you grin pleasantly, inching the tray back in her direction, “you’re doing amazing. Love the enthusiasm, that apron really suits you. However, I pay eight thousand dollars in college tuition and this looks like the wet food I give my dog. Do you think instead of this I could—”

She interrupts you with a wet slap of brown mush being added onto your already growing pile.

Wonderful,” you sigh, when you note the brown spackle on your uniform top, “can I just get a kale salad instead?”

It was for the best, anyway, you chide yourself. The fact that your school served lunch that was about as edible as aluminum foil made dieting easier. The reminder of your diet, however makes you groan as you reach the condiment station, chancing a smell at the ranch dressing in the clear plastic bowl. When you deem it safe enough to consume, you begin working on the croutons—

“Would you like some salad with your dressing?” Someone snorts from behind you.

You lift a wary gaze to Park Jimin, who’s leaning against the counter, working on organizing his grilled chicken. He cocks a brow at you as though he knows you’re glaring, even without looking.

“And to what do I owe this pleasure so early in the morning?”

Jimin rolls his eyes at you, nudging you out of the way so he can dress his own salad.

“Just think of me as your fairy godmother—I get a tingling sensation whenever you start to double carb.” He snorts, snatching the bread roll off your your tray and shoving you in the direction of your regular lunch table.

“It’s wheat.” You say indignantly, snatching it back and shoving it in your mouth.

“Just because wheat bread induces a slightly lower glycemic response doesn’t mean it’s better for you.” He spouts off automatically and you debate whether or not you can smash your head in before he starts scolding, “There’s no inherently good bread, just one that’s gonna make your ass slightly fatter as opposed to one that’s processed whole wheat.”

Apparently there was no avoiding his scolding this afternoon.

“For the record my mother says I have a wonderful figure,” you inform.

Jimin blinks at you before shoving a piece of chicken in his mouth, “Tell your mom to base for you then.”

“You’re in a fine mood this morning,” you scoff, before sending a teasing smile at your co captain, “I take it the freshman pitched their new uniform idea to you?”

Jimins jaw clenches at the thought, rubbing his aching temples, “I’m all for being a whore. I love the concept, I think it’s great. But I hate the bandage skirt idea. And if we’re going to look like hookers, we should at least be Marilyn Monroe and for like presidents and shit. Not Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.”

“Julia Roberts slander aside,” you glare, “I agree with you. They’re tacky and besides, regionals in three weeks—changing uniforms now would just be complicated, not to mention we have to worry about finding another base now that Hoseok’s graduating.”

“God, don’t fucking remind me, I already have a headache thinking about auditions. But also, I’m so happy you agree which is why I took the liberty of telling them to go fuck themselves.” Jimin grins cheerfully as you stab a pice of kale.

“What did I say about making decisions on my behalf?” You pin him with an annoyed look before throwing your fork down with a clank, “we’re a team Jimin, we make decisions together.”

“Yes and it’s because we’re a team that I know you hate all the things I do.” He explains.

“This is why they don’t respect me.” You say, “at least not as much as they do you.”

“They don’t respect me, they’re scared of me. It’s good for our image. Like a good cop, bad cop kind of thing.” He argues before slicing a piece of his grilled chicken on putting it on your plate, “And will you eat? You wouldn’t have to starve yourself if you made better choices. For example a vinaigrette instead of what is essentially going to be an extra three pounds on your ass.”

You blink at him rapidly before sighing, rising to your feet. “Whatever, Jimin.”

“Hey,” he calls out behind you but you’re already halfway across the cafeteria, equal parts irritable and unamused by Jimins lax behavior. You stop when a hand grips your wrist, “okay jeez I’m sorry. I’m kidding. Quit being a brat and eat your lunch. I said try to drop three pounds not starve yourself.”

“Wow, what a sincere apology,” you snort and attempt to walk away again but he’s gripping you by the waist, far too close for comfort with his front pressed against your back and plush lips at your ear.

This is new. Very new. 

Your roommate was a lot of things, touchy was not one of them. If anything, he prided himself on his personal space and was constantly shoving you out of his room, out of his bed, out of the fucking bathroom

“I’m sorry alright?” He mutters and you close your eyes because he was confusing. So confusing it hurt. “I didn’t mean it. I had one too many bowls of bitch flakes today—either that or you’re PMSi—fucking ow.”

Jimin rubs his side where you elbowed before glaring at you.

“Apology not accepted.” You sniff when he turns you in his arms and there was a time when you would have been ecstatic to be in this position but those feelings have long since fled.

He only tugs you closer with a grin when you don’t fight off his hold. Jimin raises a brow at something over your shoulder and you frown.

“Don’t look now but your baby boyfriend is on his way over,” Jimin whispers before retracting his arms.

“My baby what?” You frown and it only takes you a full second to realize who he’s talking about because before long Jeon Jungkook is crowding your space.

“Hey,” he calls, an arm winding its way around your waist before you’re rolling your eyes at Jimin’s teasing smirk. “What’s going on here?”

“Jungkook,” you greet, before extracting yourself from his hold, “What’s up?”

“I could say the same,” he mutters before nodding at Jimin, “We have a problem here?”

Jimin cringes at his cheesy line before pinning him with a bored look, “Actually we—”

“Me and Jimin were going over cheer stuff. Did you need something?” You interrupt.

“Going over cheer stuff,” Jungkook says back slowly. He stares at Jimin for a second too long before returning his gaze to you, “I just came to check on my girlfriend. I have a game today, you didn’t wish me good luck.”

You close your eyes with a wince when Jimin snorts. A warm palm on your shoulder has you opening them only to glare at the all too mirthful boy in front of you, “Let him down easy, champ.”

With a wave and wink in Jungkook’s direction, Jimin is bounding back towards the lunch table and leaving you with a migraine.

Jungkook is holding your hand and swinging it. You’re not quite sure when that happened.

“Look, Jungkook,” you begin, clearing your throat.

“Oh no.” He sighs.

“What?”

“Nothing is ever good when a girl starts out with ‘look, Jungkook'—my mom, my sister, the dean of students.” He shrugs.

“So you know what’s coming next then?” You ask hopefully.

“Are you gonna put me on academic probation?” He offers and when you shake your head he stares on, “Not gonna lie, I’m drawing a blank here. I just know whatever you’re saying is not gonna be good.”

All hope dies.

“We’re not dating.” You say gently, tugging your hand out of his. It was too big and overly warm.

Jungkook frowns, confusion wrinkling his brow and for a second you almost feel bad for him, that is until he opens his mouth.

“But you let me…” He chances a look over his shoulder before leaning into whisper harshly, “you let me finger you.”

And therein lies your problem.

You knew better—you truly did—than to let the otherwise inexperienced freshman go further than second base but in your defense you were drunk. You were drunk and he was willing and he was fucking Jeon Jungkook. You were a good person but not that good.

“Yes, Jungkook I did but that doesn’t mean I want to date you.” You explain gently.

“But why would you let me touch you if you didn’t want to date me?” He implores and you blink at him because there was no way in hell someone was this naive.

“Because I was horny and you were there.” You say honestly and to your relief there isn’t a look of pain etched on his features only mild confusion mixed in with annoyance. “Now that we’ve got that settled I have a cheer thing I have to—”

“Wait, wait!” He calls out, gripping your wrist, “but what about me?”

You sigh because no matter how innocent or inexperienced Jeon Jungkook seemed he was still a guy at the end of the day, and they all wanted one thing.

“Fine.” You rolls your eyes, “I’ll suck you off after practice but I got to get goin—”

“No. Not that,” he flushes, “I meant what about… what if I wanted to date you?”

You stare at Jungkook a beat and it’s your turn to be surprised because of all the things you expected to happen today that was the last.

“Do you…” You gulp, eyeing him warily, “have feelings for me?”

“No.” He says honestly and you deflate before glaring at him.

“Oh thank God,” you breathe before smacking his arm, “don’t go around saying shit like that. Jesus. Anyway, why would you want to go on a date with me if you don’t like me either? Does that make sense to you?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes at you before tugging you off to an empty corner of the cafeteria, he lowers his voice even though no ones close enough to hear. “Okay don’t look right away but do you see those guys sitting at that table next to the doo—I said don’t look!”

“Ow!” You whine, rubbing at your scalp after he gives your ponytail a hard yank. “Okay, jeez what about them?”

“They’re on my basketball team.” He informs unhelpfully and you give him a bored look.

“You don’t say?” You gasp, a hand shooting up to cover your mouth, “I couldn’t tell from their uniforms and the guy on the table, spinning the basketball, staring at us.”

Jungkook goes quiet again and you feel a headache coming on because what he made up for in looks and general athleticism he lacked in brain cells.

“Are you being sarcastic?” He frowns and what was the point if all your jabs went right over his head?

Instead, you opt for exasperation, pressing a hand to your aching temple. “What about your basketball team, Jungkook?”

“They think I’m a virgin.”

“Well are you a virgin?” You retort, thinking back to the almost painfully awful finger fuck he gifted you with last weekend.

“That’s besides the point,” he waves you off before gripping your shoulders, “I’m in college now. And a guy. Being a virgin is weird and if they find out I haven’t gone all the way I’m toast.”

“So tell them you boned me and let me get on with my life. I give you my permission, young padawan.” You give him a reassuring smack on the arm before walking away, only to be tugged back by your uniform shirt. “What now?”

“That would be great, except they’ll keep hounding me to have more sex which I’m not opposed to I just… I’m not ready yet you know?”

You blink at him, “I don’t know. I’m a slut.”

“Well pretend you get it and date me. Just for a couple weeks.” He says, “If I have a girlfriend they’ll just assume I’m getting laid on the regular and leave me alone.”

“Okay, but what about me? I actually enjoy getting laid on the regular and no offense but getting fingered by you is about as enjoyable as going to the gynecologist.” You sigh and he winces.

“Noted.” He adds dryly before cocking a brow at you, “So are you up for it?”

No!” you throw your hands up, “besides dating you could give people the wrong impression. That I’m into things like—”

“Monogamy?”

Virgins.” You correct with a roll of your eyes. “Sorry Kook, you’re just gonna have to figure shit out on yo—”

“Noona please,” he pleads desperately, hand gripping your upper arm and in all honesty you’re not a hard person to sway but Jungkook is still persistent in his pursuit. He clasps both hands under his chin before dropping to his knees desperately. He’s whining and loudly.

Loud enough to garner attention.

“Will you get up?” You hiss, “People are staring!”

“Will you say yes?” He juts his lower lip out.

“No.” You glare, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Then I’m not getting up.” He pouts.

“Because I care,” you snort, “Camp out here if you want. My answers the st—”

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease,” he whines and you grit your teeth in annoyance, “I’ll owe you big.”

“You’ll owe me?” You cock a brow.

“Yes,” he says desperately, “I’ll do anything.”

Anything?” You ponder and Jungkook’s stomach turns when you openly give him the once over.

“I… shit… yeah, anything.” He sighs.


Jimin doesn’t ask you what’s wrong and you don’t expect him to—you only bang things louder until he’s sighing from his spot on his bed, pausing the game he’s playing to turn to look at you.

“Is something wrong?”

He looks put out, annoyed. You don’t care.

Everything’s wrong.” You mutter, stripping off your uniform and throwing it in the dirty clothes.

You have half a mind to remember that you were still in Jimin’s room but it didn’t matter anyway, you and Jimin had long since passed the initial crush stage of your friendship slash roommate agreement—well at least you had, you were almost entirely positive Jimin felt nothing save for mild irritation for you on a good day. That coupled with the fact that he was very much gay set your worries at ease.

“Be more specific?” He sighs, disinterested.

You pause in rummaging through his clothes long enough to narrow your eyes at him, “I hate boys.”

“Good. More for me.” He retorts instantly, shooting you a warning glare when you pause on one of his good t shirts, “I’m wearing that tomorrow, the sweatshirt you’re looking for is in the back.”

You don’t even shoot him a so much as a thank you as you shimmy out of your sports bra, with your back turned to him and tug his hoodie over head. When you’re settled and warm you shoot a mischievous smile at Jimin who’s still glaring at you before—

“Don’t you—” he cut himself off with a curse when you dive under his covers anyway. Jimin seethes quietly as you nestle yourself beneath his sheets, “You know you have your own room right?”

“Don’t you miss me?” You whine before snuggling closer, much to his annoyance, he opts to pinch your side instead of shoving you off the bed completely. 

“No. Now move over if you want to stay in here.” he scoffs.

“You know I had a really shitty day,” you glare at his side profile and he doesn’t answer, only picks up the controller to un pause whatever he was playing. “it would be nice if you could be even a little bit supportive.”

“I didn’t sign up for emotional support I signed up for half on utilities and you not leaving your pad wrappers on the bathroom floor.” He mutters, still invested in his tv show.

“Jimin.”

“Don’t use that voice, I hate it.” He grunts.

“What voice?” You pout.

“You know, the voice.” He sighs, sending you a glance from the corner of his eye, “The one you use on guys to get what you want. Your baby voice, it’s annoying.”

Your cheeks heat with embarrassment and you feign indifference because Jimin never means to be hurtful, he’s only talking to you like he would any other friend… but you didn’t want to be any other friend? You weren’t sure anymore, about how you felt about him. Things were blurred because while you were sure things bordered on platonic and that mostly had to do with the fact that he was so immune to your feminine wiles (snort), you also knew you didn’t want to be treated like one of the guys or like any other fucking girl on the team, that he mostly couldn’t stand.

You wanted to be special. Special in what way, you weren’t entirely sure.

“You’re a dick.” You retort and he tears his gaze away from the screen long enough to cock a brow at you.

“You knew this upon signing the lease.” He snorts and you don’t reply because really, what was there to say. It was well known, Jimin was in fact an asshole—he didn’t like kick puppies or make orphans cry (intentionally) or anything but he was curt and to the point and you didn’t get your feelings hurt easily which is why things worked between the two of you. “Hey, did you get that playlist I sent you?”

You pause in scrolling through your phone to turn to him, “Yeah actually I did. They’re all kind of slow, did you want to use them for routine?”

Jimins hands slow on the controller but he doesn’t divert his attention this time, only hums his disagreement, “Nah, just new songs I stumbled upon I thought you’d dig. They’re good right?”

“Yeah,” you nod eagerly, “I added them to my library actually.”

“Cool.” Jimin grumbles, clearly done with the conversation and you roll your eyes.

You go on like that for a few moments because Jimins content with silence, prefers it actually over what he calls your ‘incessant chattering’ it’s one of many things he finds annoying about you—from what you can tell. He’s left almost every group chat you’re in.

You talk too much,” he says desperately after one night, a long night of drinking with your team and you’re still sending pictures. He’s in your room and his hairs disheveled and he’s shirtless and he looks delectable and annoyed and seconds away from strangling you.

“Sorry.” You squeak, tugging the blankets up past your chin and he narrows his eyes at you. You can barely make him out in your doorway, but the light from the hallway dances against the planes of chest, making you gulp.

“No you’re not,” he grumbles, throat raspy from liquor and sleep, he sticks a hand out expectantly, “hand it over.”

“W-what?” You push hair back from your face nervously and Jimin adjusts his basketball shorts before sauntering over to your bed.

“Your phone. I’m confiscating it. You’re fucking with my sleep schedule and I have a nine am tomorrow,” Jimin mutters, snatching your iPhone from you. He sends you a menacing glare all while fiddling with the device, “You don’t get to bitch if I drop you on your ass during practice. Now move in.”

“Huh?” Your eyebrows shoot to your hairline at that and Jimin is sending you a bland look, a hand pressed to his aching temple like talking to you is causing him physical pain. But he doesn’t respond only yanks the blanket from under you, making you all too aware of your lack of clothing when the bed dips beneath his weight.

“Move. In.” He enunciates, “I’m drunk as hell, tired as hell, and not up for the walk to my room.”

“It’s across the hall.” You remind him and in the darkness of your bedroom, with the pale moonlight dancing in and reflecting off the single chain Jimin always wears you’re overwhelmed by him. By his scent, his body, his withering stare when he presses a finger to your forehead.

“Sleep now.” He grumbles.

And maybe that was when it truly started, when the both of you settled down after that long night of drinking, him telling you to sleep on your stomach so you don’t choke on your own vomit, and you staring on dumbly, the beginnings of an on again off again infatuation for your roommate, your friend, that never really went away—no matter how unwilling a participant you were.

There’s a brief period of time (that you’ve made a conscious effort to block out) that you openly pined for him. There was no stumbling into the kitchen a mess, with morning breath that threatened to singe his eyebrows off if you struck up a conversation. No. If Jimin had class at nine am, you were up, with your lashes curled and your favorite tinted BB cream by seven forty five—you looked fresh faced, what a boy who hadn’t spent nearly five plus years of his life around girls with bedazzled vaginas would consider natural. But alas—

Jimin is a hairsbreadth from your face and you thank every god you could think of you woke up at the ass crack of dawn to wash your hair. His eyes narrow and he worries his lower lip before pulling back.

“You didn’t blend your neck,” he comments before grabbing his hoodie next to you and bidding you adieu.

For the first month of your crush you spend every morning in the kitchen (after of course closely inspecting your makeup under several different lightings), making him breakfast, green smoothies even. But Jimin is a health nut, on top of being an obsessive perfectionist. He preps his food the night before, likes all of his ducks in a row when he starts his morning at eight fifteen on the dot. His expression the first time you offer him turkey bacon and eggs is a cocktail of mild disgust and disinterest. 

“I’m counting macros this week.” He explains, before transferring his smoothie from the blender into a thermos. 

You tongue at your cheek before taking a bite of the ridiculously chewy meat. 

Your first Valentine’s Day with Jimin is always a memorable one, for sheer comedic relief if nothing else.

The two of you are regularly inseparable at practice, and some of it had to do with you being a fly and him base, your base, but a lot of it was because he didn’t… mesh well with others. He was too blunt, too rough around the edges and he took cheer seriously. The times Jimin spoke about himself were far and in-between, but you distantly remember him telling you that before he started doing cheer he did gymnastics competitively for a good chunk of his life. That explained a lot of things, honestly. Why he was so by the book, strict about everything from uniforms to ponytails, to diets—of all the boys on the squad, he was maybe the only one who gave a shit about stuff like that. It was because of all of that that he made a good co captain, and if it weren’t for his inability to compromise and just generally stomach other peoples presence, you were positive he would have beat you out for the captain position.

It also explained why he was so strong. The guy regularly worked out, yeah but he was like, open the pickle jar strong. And then there was his food intake which was crazy, all things considered, because he ate a lot to build muscle but it was all so healthy you couldn’t imagine anyone enjoying it. You wouldn’t lie, the first time Jimin lifted you during auditions your heart nearly beat out of your chest because he did it all with one arm and caught you effortlessly against his chest.

“Here,” Jimin says, handing you a tumbler filled with purple liquid at the end of practice, he hitches his gym bag up higher on his shoulder and waits for you to accept it. “I brought you a smoothie from home.”

“Thanks, what is it?” You ask, sniffing it and ignoring the glare Jimin shoots your way. It doesn’t smell offensive and you take a hesitant sip, “Actually this is good.”

He nods with a sheepish shrug and you try to tamp down the zoo of butterflies in your chest that are telling you that this is a sign, that Park Jimin making you a smoothie is his weird, male, health nut equivalent of chocolates and a confession. Your heart seems to gain wings at the prospect and then he ruins it like he always does because he’s Jimin and he ruins things. That’s his job title and occupation, Park Jimin, The Ruiner.

“It’s a detox smoothie actually,” he says when you’re already on your second mouthful, cheeks puffed with the berry concoction. Jimin was a lot of things, tactless was one of them, “I thought it would help with… you know. Plus, I do strength training in my free time but this partnership only works if you keep up your end. You should come to the gym with me in the mornings, you’re up anyway with like a full face of makeu—”

You shove the tumbler back at his chest before sucking your teeth at him, “I’m gonna go shower and then head home. See you there.”

Jimin frowns at your retreating figure by glancing down at the smoothie, he takes a sip for curiosity’s sake. “What’s her problem?”

The first time you see Jimin kissing a boy there’s no tell tale signs of arousal that all of mainstream media swore by. Only pure unadulterated jealousy tinged with sadness. You watch the way Jimin cups the boys jaw, the way his own jaw works in time with his lips. It’s not rushed or heated, filled with passion like a lover—it’s slow and a little timid, like the first kiss at the end of a date and your stomach turns.

You watch the two boys pull away, Jimin looking the softest you’ve ever seen. You wondered what it felt like to be the recipient of that gaze, but it wasn’t a side of him you were meant to see, or a moment meant for you, and you reminded yourself that you were intruding. You leave the hallway too quickly that day and maybe sulk for longer than was necessary in the weeks to follow, cry even, because your nineteen year old self is (gag) heartbroken. It won’t be another month of stilted conversation and failed attempts at avoidance until you’ve pushed the feeling to the back of your brain and manage to find a middle ground in your relationship with him.

“If you return my shirt with boob sweat I’m gonna use it to smother you in your sleep.” Jimin reminds and you scoff. “That’s my good shirt.”

“That was one time.” You shoot up indignantly and immediately regret it because with regionals nearing you were doing conditioning instead of regular routines and every muscle in your body was on fire from today’s practice.

Jimin sighs before getting to his knees and giving you a hard look, “Did you—”

“Before you ask whatever you’re gonna ask I came straight here after practice, showered and went to class I haven’t had time to do anything else.” You interrupt and Jimin rolls his eyes at you.

“Lay back,” he orders and you oblige immediately because as strict as Jimin was as far as diet and exercise was concerned, he considered you an extension of himself. His partner. And if you weren’t in good shape you were holding him back which is why he ignores your yells of protest when he pushes back on the leg you have pressed to his chest.

“Okay, okay, okay.” You say, slapping his arm so he would let up, “That’s enough.”

“Shut up.” He says mildly, pushing until your knee was nestled between both your chests. He slaps the back of your calf and you glare, “Straighten this.”

“Fuck off.” You grit out.

He cocks a brow at you and you regret your words when he adds more pressure.

“Jimin, fuuuuck,” you whine earnestly, a hand pressed to his chest because the pain was getting to be too much and he didn’t seem to be letting up anytime soon. He doesn’t recline right away, and you peek an eye open in time to see a look cross his face before he guides your leg back slowly with a nod.

“How’s your knee doing?” He murmurs, and you lean your head back against the pillow when he begins feeling up your leg.

As much as you hated to admit it, Jimin’s extensive athletic career as well as his major proved to be useful on more than one occasion in your house. As an athlete you could appreciate a roommate who was studying physical therapy, especially when it came to the massage aspect.

“It’s been fine these last few weeks,” you shrug, “hasn’t been giving me any problems.”

“Start wearing your knee brace again.” He says when he places one hand on your knee and the other on your ankle. You narrow your eyes when he moves it side to side, “Your knees been giving out at practice. I’ll kick your ass if you dislocate it before regionals.”

“Noted.” You scoff, but it’s more of a gasp when Jimin’s hands are on your hips, barely under his hoodie and skimming the skin just above your spandex. His face is passive all the while, nudging you up the bed.

“Move up, I’m gonna check your range of motion.” He explains and Jimin is all work and no fun. Sometimes you wonder how he can remain so disinterested, clinical at times like this when you feel like your whole body is on fire under his touch.

Your leg is back up in the air and Jimin is moving it in hesitant circles, up and down, side to side and you close your eyes, trying not to gasp everytime he presses your legs closed and tiny shockwaves of pleasure shoot straight to your clit. He never presses down long enough to evoke a reaction but you lay back and relax, enjoying what little intimacy you’re allowed with him.

Everything is good, it’s nice, relaxing, his touch is enough to leave you horny, you’ll probably have to rub one out in your room later but not enough to have you cumming right then and there. Your eyes shoot open when you feel him move in, his hand no longer resting on your leg but on the innermost of your thigh, too high up as he presses down.

Too, too high up. Too, too close to the apex of your thighs.

You cock a brow and in typical Jimin fashion he stares on blandly, cool as a cucumber sitting between your legs and forcing them open.

“Buy me a drink first?” You say a little breathlessly, and joking is your way of coping with this, him, your ego, which was sorely bruised because Park Jimin was more than immune to you and that sucked royally.

“Get your head out of the gutter.” He says, but he does it with a small smile, “If you did this on your own I wouldn’t have to do it for you.”

“It’s not as fun on my own.” You comment.

“It never is.” He teases back and it’s the closest you’ve ever gotten to flirting with him. You simultaneously revel in it and chide yourself for still being so head over hills for someone who sees you as no more than an object in his everyday life, like a lamp or the refrigerator. You’d notice if it were gone but you could always get a new refrigerator.

“Okay, I think I’m good for the night! Thanks I’ll just go back to my room an—”

A crack sounds in the room, echoing off his walls, so loud it nearly drowns out the strangled noise you make in your throat. You blink up at Jimin, equal parts shocked and turned on when he rubs the sensitive skin of your thigh, the innermost part he just slapped. Welts form under his soft palm but he doesn’t look the tiniest bit sorry, in fact, he doesn’t look anything. His expression is just as calm as collected as it was when you had first walked in. It leaves you confused, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“Did you just…” You gesture between your thighs and Jimin patiently waits for you to continue as he closes your legs back up, letting you know you’re done with at home PT. “Did you just spank me?”

“Take better care of yourself and I won’t have to.” He says softly and you’re searching, searching for something, anything in his face that’ll give you even the slightest idea of what the fuck just happened. But you come up empty, even as he presses on, “Stop skipping lunch to talk to that freshman. Make healthier choices so you don’t have to do extreme diets and stop,” He grips your knee softly before staring up at you, “neglecting your health.”

You nod mutely, when he finishes because there’s nothing else to really say. Jimins been acting weird, very weird these past few days and while every fiber of your being, every natural instinct is telling you ‘he likes you! you love him, offer to suck his dick!’ the rational part of your brain quashes any hope and reminds you how well trying to pursue feelings for your roommate turned out the last time.

“I’m going to bed.” You say dumbly, blinking at him and Jimin nods, not moving to say goodbye or watch you walk out.

You press your back against his door when you leave because Park Jimin would be the death of you, but oh what a way to go.


“Look, I’m sorry okay?” Hoseok sighs, trailing after you as you re-shelf the books you were scanning. Stupid midterm paper. Stupid college.

“Hm, I’m sorry I don’t know what you’re sorry for, unless of course you’re apologizing for interrupting my studying then, I forgive you Hoseok because that’s just the kind of loving, nurturing, sweet captain I am.” You return, back still to the older boy when he rolls his eyes at you, “Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

“I’m quitting the squad.” Hoseok says with a finality that makes you snort.

“‘Kay. Don’t be late to practice today or I’ll shove my foot so far up your ass you won’t be able to walk much less cheer.” You say sweetly.

“I admit, it’s a bit troublesome,” Hoseok sighs.

You whirl around on him at that, eyes narrowed, “Getting your pubes caught in the sticky part of your pad is a bit troublesome—you quitting the fucking team three weeks before a competition is a lot of fucking troublesome you asshole.”

“First of all ew,” He whines something that sounds dangerously close to your name and you don’t have to turn to know he’s pouting, “Second, you know there’s more to life than cheer! I’m graduating soon and I need to focus on my studies, and start looking into a career.”

“Listen here you little bitch,” you hiss, shoving a finger in his face until Hoseok was going cross eyed, “I can smell the entire bag of marijuana you smoked on your way here. Who put you up to this? Namjoon? I’ll kick your ass, I’ll kick his ass and then whichever one of your dumb friends helped coerce you into ‘lightening your load’ before you graduate. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to.”

“But I want to party,” he pouts and nearly eats his words when your eye twitches, “God, you and Jimin are really a match made in heaven, huh? How are two people that are so tiny, so terrifying?”

“Hoseok, you can’t quit we have regionals and the freshman are giving me a fucking ulcer. Where am I going to find and be able to train a base in three weeks?” You implore, pressing a hand to your aching temple.

“I’m sorry,” Hoseok says and he doesn’t look the least bit sorry. You debate on shoving you foot up his ass for old times sake when he pats you on the shoulder, “You’re a good cheerleader. An even better captain, I know you’ll figure it out.”

“Fuck off,” you glare, shoving a finger in his chest, “if anything weird happens to you this week, just know it’s me cursing you.”

You stand there, with your back pressed against the bookshelf for a good minute, just watching Hoseok’s retreating figure. His shoulders are sagged in relief, like he was just let from under a tremendous weight, one he turned around and perched atop your shoulders.

When you get back to your library table you’re pouting, on the verge of losing your shit in the otherwise dead silent room because why, why did bad things happen to good people? As though you weren’t already stressed from midterms, it was like you had a giant fucking sign on your forehead that said ‘hey, screw me over!’

“What is it now?” Someone hums across from you and you barely have time to register that it’s Nayeon before you’re jutting your lower lip.

And for what it’s worth, Nayeon is a good friend because she stops studying, sets her books and binders and pens aside to focus all of her attention on you. Then she listens, and listens, and listens because it’s only been three days since you’ve seen each other but it seems as though a lot has happened. By the time you’re done debriefing her, she’s staring at you, a frown marring her pretty face and her arms crossed over her chest because—

“You’re a glutton for punishment, aren’t you?” she sighs, carding hands through her hair, “Let me just… let me just see if I follow here, Jungkook the freshman, the virgin you let finger you at the party last week, he wants you to deflower him?”

“No, he doesn’t even want sex—can you believe…! He wants me to date him, so worst.” You correct, “Fake date him to get his teammates off his back because he’s fucking twelve apparently and not immune to peer pressure.”

“And your roommate, Jimin, your gay roommate,” she emphasizes the gay part and you glare at her, “you think you’re starting to… feel things for him again?”

“I mean, technically,” you put a hand out to stop her, “the feelings never really went away, but they’ve just been lying dormant like waiting for him or myself to entertain them and Nayeon, the other day, in the cafeteria he hugged me. He back hugged me. Jimin, the same person who made a six year old cry last year, and then kicked his dad’s ass. I want to die.”

“And Hoseok,” she presses a hand to her head, “the drug dealing cheerleader. He quit.”

“He’s not a drug dealer, he just smokes a lot of weed,” you roll your eyes, “his friend, Namjoon, he’s a drug dealer. I’m gonna kick his ass because he convinced Hoseok to quit the fucking team.”

“And… you have regionals in less than a month, correct?”

“Yes. So you see my problem right?” You whine.

“You have multiple problems, most of which I can’t help you with, being in love with your gay roommate ranks at the top of that list,” she sends you a sarcastic look before snapping her fingers at you, “but the Hoseok thing. I know how you can fix that. It’ll be like killing two birds with one stone.”


“This is so… lame.” Jungkook groans and you slap him upside the head before gesturing towards the rest of the squad.

“Team, I’d like you to meet our new base.” You smile tightly before patting a hand on his shoulder, and pulling something from behind your back, “This is Jungkook.”

“What’s that for?” Momo, a second year on the team frowns and you brighten at her question, bringing the glass jar to everyone’s attention.

“This,” you begin, “is negative reinforcement. Anytime he says something rude, stupid, or offensive feel free to let me know and I’ll charge him, all proceeds go towards new uniforms for the team.”

“What happened to Hoseok?”

“Hoseok decided to focus on his studies.” You say and you barely make it through the sentence before someone’s cutting you off with a snort. “Jungkook’s going to be replacing him.”

“That’s such bullshit!” Mina scoffs, “Has he ever even cheered before?”

“No but I have more than two brain cells I’m sure I can figure it out.” Jungkook retorts and you press a hand to your aching temple, resisting the urge to argue his declaration of having even more than one struggling fucking brain cell. 

“Five dollars.” You seethe and Jungkook only challenges your stare for a moment before he’s reaching in his back pocket for his wallet, shoving a bill in. You cock a brow at him. He curses you before putting in another dollar.

“What’s going on over here?”

It’s a natural response, almost second nature by now, the goosebumps, the heat in the pit of your belly, the chill at the base of your spine. You should be a little more put out over the response Jimin evokes, even after all this time but you couldn’t force yourself to care. Instead you sigh.

“Jimin, this is Jungkook. You two have met before. He’s going to be filling in for Hoseok from here on out.” You explain and brace yourself because Jimin is a lot of things. Complacent isn’t one of them. He doesn’t settle for anything short of perfect and one look at Jungkook has him straightening his shoulders and eyeing you like he’s about to throw you out a window.

“Who says?” Jimin challenges and it’s your turn to cock a brow at him, hands planted firmly on your hips.

“Me, the captain.” You shoot back.

“Did he even audition?” Jimin retorts and you roll your eyes at him.

“Audition for what? It isn’t exactly like we have troves of fucking college kids lined up to fill the spot.” You argue.

“You’re cut.” Jimin says, ignoring you and sneering down his nose at Jungkook.

And Jungkook, for all his complaints and the bitch fit he put up the entire way you had dragged him to the field, didn’t take well to being told what to do. Especially by assholes. Correction, especially by assholes in a matching fucking tracksuit.

“Weird. My girlfriend, the captain,” cue audible gasp from over dramatic cheerleaders, “says otherwise.”

You press a hand to your forehead with a visible shudder because where did this guy find his material? So corny.

“Your girlfriend?” Jimin laughs, and turns his head to peer over at the bleachers before raising a brow at you. You squirm under his intense scrutiny, “So you’re dating the kid?”

“I mean… we’re not not dating.” You mutter and yelp when Jungkook pinches your side.

“What does that even mean?” Jimin implores.

“Like, we’re not like boyfriend and girlfriend it’s just like sometimes he waits for me outside my class and we go to see the newest movies and stuff together and maybe he’ll buy me like lunch on the way and like I don’t know kiss me or hold my hand but not like in a boyfriend way, he’s not my boyfriend.” You rush out and when you glance back up the two boys are staring at you incredulously.

“What exactly is your definition of boyfriend—anal? That sounds like maybe the only thing you haven’t done with him.” Jimin rolls his eyes at you when you slap his chest. He could at least act like it hurt.

“So anyway, let’s start practice!” You clear your throat, pushing past both of them and towards the middle of the field, “Pair up and get started on your stretches!”

Jimin and Jungkook glare at each other even after everyone begins stretching, speeding up your already impending headache.

“I don’t like you.” Jimin comments mildly.

Jungkook snorts at that.

“I’m quivering. Your tracksuit really evokes a sense of fear in a guy.” He rolls his eyes before sneering, “You look like Vector from Despicable Me.”

“Okay, that’s enough. I’ve had it with you two and your dick measuring contest.” You hiss, getting in between either of them and crossing your arms over your chest.

“Bet I’d win.” Jungkook sniffs, “Everytime.”

“Yeah?” Jimin tongues at the inside of his cheek, the way he sizes Jungkook up makes the younger boy squirm, “Wanna find out after this?”

Jungkook opens his mouth to argue before closing it again—he does this a few more times before squinting his eyes and cocking his head to the side at the older boy. “That got really gay, really fast.”

Jungkook turns to look at you, pointing a finger at Jimin before, “Is he—”

“Jar, Jungkook.” You exasperate.

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“You didn’t have to.” You hiss.

“Fine, homoerotic, is that the politically correct term?” He sighs and you clench your hands at your sides in an attempt to not strangle him.

Not in front of witness.

“Stop talking.” You put a finger up to silence him and then turn your attention to Jimin, “Let’s start practice, yeah? We can be mature about this?”

“Matures my middle name.” Jimin seethes.


As it is, mature is not Jimin’s fucking middle name, it wasn’t even his stripper name because between the jabs he had been making at Jungkook’s inability to pick up on the workouts as quickly, or the way he would send the younger boy a pointed look whenever he wasn’t as flexible as the other guys on the team you were about five minutes from strangling him.

“Why can’t I be her partner?” Jungkook argues at one point when Jimin immediately grabs your arm for stretches.

“Because you’ll fuck around and throw her back out and then I’ll kill you.” Jimin says politely before yanking you closer to him. His movement is only slightly halted when Jungkook reaches out to grab your other arm and your glancing between the two of them wildly.

“It’s not fucking rocket science I’m sure she can tell me what to do.” Jungkook scoffs, tugging on your arm.

“I’ve been her partner for three fucking years, if you want to look up someone’s skirt do it on your free time or pair up with one of the other freshman on the team, you’re wasting my time.” Jimin grits out.

“Why can’t you pair up with one of the freshman on the team, if you’re so experienced doesn’t it make sense if noona helps me instead of you? I also need some experienced help.” Jungkook enunciates.

“Fine.” Jimin says, letting go of your arm and making you stumble, he cocks a brow at Jungkook, jaw clenched, “get on your back and spread your legs I’m your new partner.”

You and Jungkook stare at each other for a beat before turning to openly gawk at Jimin, who was sporting an expression that told you he was bored with the entire conversation and had been tired of Jungkook five minutes ago.

“Take your pick,” Jimin shrugs, “it’s either one of the freshman or me. Personally, I can stretch you out real good—”

“Okay stop.” You say finally, pressing a hand to either boys chest, you level Jimin with an exasperated expression, one that he pointedly ignores before turning to Jungkook, “I’m going to partner with him today, Jungkook, the other girls are really helpful and if you have any questions you can ask me but I don’t think it’s a good idea to try and deviate from routine. Me and Jimin have been working together for a lot longer and it’ll take both of us to be able to incorporate you into the flow of things. It’s just easier this way.”

Jimin shoots the younger boy a smug look, one you want to smack off his face because despite the rush of butterflies Jimin’s current possessive nature was giving you, you knew it was only because he didn’t want Jungkook around. He didn’t want you injured because you were just a stepping stone towards his real goal which was essentially regionals. It sucked and was kind of dick-ish but you knew this about Jimin from the get go, he had never pretended otherwise or came to you under false pretenses. Jimin had a very one-tracked mind and it was currently stuck on the aforementioned competition your team faced.

“Stop it.” You sigh and Jimin raises a brow at you, “You know what you’re doing. You’re egging him on an—unf.”

You wither him with a glare when he positions you to get a better seat between your legs. “You were saying?”

You were really beginning to hate stretching. Especially with Jimin.

“You’re little games not cute and it’s making things difficult for m—shit.” You curse when he presses back on your leg until one knee was pressed against your shoulder.

“Should we work on your flexibility next?” Jimin asks and he’s obnoxiously close to you, his cool breath fanning over your face, but your focus was on his lips. Your throat goes dry when he licks them, his voice lowering an octave, “Or should we do that later? When we’re alone?”

His questions hits you like a punch to the gut and you’re suddenly choking because that almost sounded flirtatious but when you glance up to try and get a read on Jimin’s expression, he’s impassive, unfazed by his double entendre.

“W-What?” You stammer, shoving at his chest until the pressure on your leg gives. Jimin blinks at you curiously.

“We might not have enough time, we could do it at the apartment?” He offers innocently, only Jimin was about as innocent as Satan and you didn’t buy his raised eyebrows and saucer eyes.

A sigh leaves your lips as yourself down on the grass. Tired. So tired.


“Since this discussion has long since been put off,” you sigh before plopping yourself down on an available seat of grass, “I’m opening the floor. I hear that you all want new uniforms so Jimin and I have decided that we—”

“Not me,” Jimin corrects, “just her. If it were up to me you’d all be wearing trash bags to better suit your shitty performance.”

Jimin and I,” you begin again, “have decided to take suggestions and if you guys are really dead set on this then we can work on fundraising too.”

“The current uniforms are fine, the only ones who want to change it are the freshman!” Kihyun calls from the back, garnering more than a few glares and making Jimin snicker.

“They are not fine. They’re gray.” Eunha chimes in, “Like prison cells. Gray is why prisoners are unhappy.”

“Really? I always thought it was the loss of freedom and free manual labor,” Jimin snorts, ignoring when you slap his chest.

“I think new uniforms would be a good look.” Jungkook says, leaning back to inspect the back of your thighs, “I say we take the hem up an inch… or five.”

“Ten dollars.” You say without blinking and Jungkook sulks.

“What about black uniforms? It’s a flattering color! And we could go with gray for an accent so we don’t stray too far from school colors.”

“That's…” You begin hesitantly, “not a bad idea, actually.”

“Oh! Long sleeve tops! I’ve been looking them up online and they look so much more… Professional? A lot of the top schools are going for long sleeve instead of sleeveless.” Eunha offers.

“Maybe if you all started practicing like a top school, we’ll consider it.” Jimin scoffs and groans echo through out the huddle.

“Draw up a design. Get it approved by us and coach and while you’re at it, start thinking of fundraising ideas to pitch.” You say, rising to your feet and dusting the grass from your bottom, “If it’s good and everything works out maybe we’ll be able to get new uniforms before regionals.”

“Practice is over. Go home and stretch, hydrate and ice if you need to assholes, I’m tired of you coming to me with injuries that could have been avoided.” Jimin seethes and you roll your eyes because you think, for a moment, beneath all the bravado he actually gives a shit about the kids.

It isn’t until you’re hitching your gym bag up your shoulder and swapping your tennis shoes out for slippers that you feel Jungkook’s weight being pressed onto your shoulders.

“Can I help you?” You sigh, shaking off his grip and making him whine.

“What the hell was that?” He glowers, gesturing towards the field and when you stare at him blankly he elaborates, “That practice was worst than literally any training I’ve done for basketball—off season included.”

“Welcome to cheerleading, bitch.” You say, slapping him on the shoulder. You turn to leave, and press fingers to your closed eyes when your movement is halted by his grip on your wrist. “What?”

“Can you… you know… help with that thing you offered earlier?” He coughs, rubbing the back of his neck and you eye him incredulously.

“The blowjob?”

“What? No! No! I meant… the routines. It’s just… that… you know Jimin doesn’t like me too much and the stuff we were going over earlier was complicated but I can’t ask him and I don’t want to look like an idiot I just,” Jungkook sighs and it takes every bit of self control not to snap at him, even going as far as to remind yourself that he was doing you a favor. Even if it was only out of debt. He was trying to help.

Which is why you throw your bag down with an exasperated sigh and slip your shoes back on, “Let’s practice a bit then.”


Somewhere down the line you had just assumed, no, hoped that either of the boys would get used to each other. At least enough to be civil. You didn’t need them to be glued at the foreskin but you did need them to not give you a migraine whenever you were forced to be in the same room as them.

“This is shared space. That means no boyfriends after eleven o’clock,” Jimin hissed after one entire evening of Jungkook lounging on your couch, eating a bag of Cheetohs and getting crumbs everywhere. “So get whatever breed of cockroach this is, out of my living room.”

“He’s not my—”

Jungkook cuts you off with a withering glare, pausing the newest episode of Bones to speak around a mouthful of chips, “Noona, can we go over the routine again this weekend? I think I’m starting to forget. I wouldn’t want to choke on competition day. That would suck.”

His threat was so apparent that Jimin’s lips thin, making a move towards the younger boy, if it weren’t for your grip on his upper arm. “Jeon Jungkook, do you wan—”

“Let’s go to my room.” You interrupt, tugging the younger boy up by the wrist and dragging him the rest of the way.

“What was that for?” Jungkook grumbles, rubbing at his wrist as though it hurt, as if he wasn’t a whole foot taller and a person heavier than you.

“Stop pissing off my roommate.” You demand, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Oh come on! I’m not even doing anything.” Jungkook glares, “It’s not my fault he has a hard on for you!”

“Trust me when I say he doesn’t,” you snort and glare when Jungkook leans back against your headboard, completely ignoring you, “Besides, all of this was not apart of our deal. Get out of my house.”

“He totally does,” Jungkook argues, disregarding your earlier statement and making himself comfortable under your throw, “I mean, I know girls have a hard time admitting they’re wrong but trust me, you’re wrong about this one. A guy doesn’t get pissed like that unless you’re fucking with a girl he’s into.”

“A normal guy doesn’t,” you correct, “Jimin likes his space. You are intruding on that, in more than one sense.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, but I’m telling you I’m 100% right.” Jungkook shrugs, reaching over


“He’s wrong.” Nayeon sighs, head rested on her palm as you occupy the seat across from her. Cutting into important study time, again. “Well, not entirely wrong.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You crinkle your nose at her and she rolls her eyes.

“He has a hard on for someone, it’s just not you.” Nayeon whispers and your eyes widen.

“No!” You gasp.

“Yes.”

“No!”

Yes.”

“No!”

Yes!” she says, slamming her hands down on the table, and wincing when people several tables over turn to gawk. “I mean think about it. You said Jimins gay right? And that he shows no emotion save for mild disinterest where you’re concerned but suddenly Jeon Jungkook comes along and he’s irritable, territorial, emotional? Jimin is one of those guys, you know?”

“I don’t.” You shake your head, but all your attention is focused on her, you’re hanging on her every word.

“He doesn’t know how to properly express his emotions so he’s lashing out.” she explains slowly.

And it’s like everything suddenly makes sense in the universe, all the pieces click together and your heart feels as though a fat man has just situated himself on your chest. Because, did Jimin really like Jungkook? Were you really going to be forced to sit back and watch him pine for another man, again? Then there was the more jealous part of you, the ugly emotions that lurked beneath the surface that you weren’t ready to address. Thoughts like, do you lie to him? You hadn’t intended on keeping the entire Jungkook thing a secret because if you were being honest with yourself you thought Jimin might try to throw him off the nearest balcony if he knew you weren’t actually dating him. But the more you thought about it the more you wanted to keep it to yourself and it wasn’t exactly lying, was it?

“You’re making the face.” Nayeon sighs.

“What face?” You frown.

“The one you make when you’re having a heated, internal monologue over your skewed moral compass.” She explains.

“I was not…” you lie before plopping your head down in defeat.

You totally were, but Nayeon is polite enough not to call you out on it.


If you had to rank your to do list for the day, telling Jimin that you weren’t actually dating Jungkook so that your roommate who you had been openly pining for for the last three years could swoop in was ranked at the bottom. Right above dying and going to another party with Hoseok’s weird friends. Though if you were being honest with yourself, you’d take death happily at this point, it sounded a whole hell of a lot less painful. Especially when just trying to squeeze yourself into Jimin’s schedule was a pain in the ass.

If he wasn’t on campus, juggling seven classes to complete school on time he was at cheer practice, which wasn’t a prime place to tell him because Jungkook—and if he wasn’t at cheer practice he was at the gym, or asleep and you’d try waking Jimin up exactly once in your entire time knowing him and it was one too many. The guy wasn’t exactly a morning person.

So the gym it was.

“I’m surprised you actually wanted to come.” Jimin muses, fixing your posture before switching out your kettlebell for a heavier one. You try not to glare.

“I figure,” you grunt when he lets go, leaving you to manage the ten pound weight on your own, a small feat when you’ve already been there for thirty minutes and your arms felt like jelly, “you were right. I wouldn’t be a good captain if I started neglecting myself.”

“Hmm..” He hums, and pressed a hand to your exposed belly, “suck this in.”

“So I was thinking,” you pant and Jimin quirks a brow at you.

“A scary prospect.” He murmurs.

“I was thinking,” you begin again, before dropping the weight completely and turning to face him, “about me and Jungkook…. and me and you.”

“Did I say you could stop?” He implores and you roll your eyes at him before switching arms, “What do you and Jungkook have to do with you and me?”

“You’re my roommate.” You grunt, heaving up with all your might. “And you hate him.”

“You’re not wrong about either of those things,” he agrees, “but I’d like to reiterate my first question of what do either of those things have to do with each other?”

“I just…” You try to get the words out but your muscles are on fire and your chest is tight, so instead you throw the weight down with a grunt before turning to him, “Do you like Jungkook?”

“What?” He blinks at you. “You just said yourself I hated him.”

“Yes, okay I know but you know sometimes you say one thing and you mean another.” You shrug.

Jimins expression remains bland, emotionless.

“You’re asking me if I have… feelings for your boyfriend, correct? That’s what we’re getting at here?” Jimin asks bluntly and you shrink under his intense scrutiny.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you say quietly.

A long silence follows your statement, in which Jimin stares at you, just stares and you cow under his gaze because well, it’s Jimin and he’s pretty fucking intimidating. You look anywhere but at him, the airconditioner, the weights, the treadmill, all while still able to feel him boring holes into the side of your head and you wonder maybe, if you had over stepped. If you had spoken too soon because granted you and Jimin were pretty close but clearly not close enough because to this day he still never really talked about the whole liking boys things or even relationships in general. It made you wonder just how many people Jimin had dated, if he had asked them out, if he was softer, sweeter or—

“You’re really dense you know that?” Jimin shakes his head at you before walking over to the weights, leaving you there slack jawed and a little bit annoyed.

“Hey! Wait up!” You call after him, but he doesn’t, unsurprisingly. “I didn’t mean it like that I was only asking because I wanted to tell you that—”

“Did you watch that new clown movie?” Jimin asks suddenly and he nearly gives you whiplash with how quick he’s jumping topics. You open your mouth to argue, to tell him you were only asking so you could tell him you and Jungkook weren’t really dating but the glint in his eye tells you not to tread there. He’s done talking about it, and by effect so are you.

“No I haven’t.” You sigh, your body slumping in defeat.

“Good,” he grunts, pulling down on the weights before turning his attention to you. And you applaud yourself because you don’t keel over at the sight of a sweaty, sleeveless Park Jimin doing reps on the pull down machine, veins bulging and muscles flexed. He sends you a look that tells you he knows exactly what you’re thinking and makes your back straighten indignantly. “Did you hear what I just said?”

“The clown movie.” You repeat proudly, only for Jimin to roll over and flick your forehead.

“Yes genius, but after that,” he sends you a grin, one you’re not used to seeing. He’s teasing you, but it doesn’t annoy you quite as much as usual, “I said let’s go see it. I figure you owe me after that insult you pulled.”

“Wh—” Your mouth opens and the closes before pointing a finger in his direction, “I didn’t mean it like that, if you would just let me explain—”

“Well I took it that way, you’re the only one stupid enough to date that overgrown toddler. And besides, it’s a simple question. Yes or no?” He frowns and you sigh.

“I mean… I don’t really have anything else to do this weekend so..”

“Good to know I’m a last resort.” He snorts and you hide a flush because if only he knew.

And really, if you looked at the entire thing, your situation with Jimin in retrospect it was truly all your fault. Because no matter how much you claim to have both your feelings and heart in check there is no such thing as control when it comes to love. And so you get your hopes, let yourself hope for a moment, with Jungkook’s earlier words replaying like a soft lull. When really you should’ve taken the idiots advice with a grain of salt. Or just not at all.

20 Autobot Leaders Rated by How Much I Want to Punch Them

Starting with the big guy, the granddaddy of them all, G1 Optimus Prime. He’s like a father to me. I can’t in good conscience punch him, even if he sometimes deserves it for bad puns. 1/10 punchability I just can’t do it 

Rodimus Prime ranks high in the punchability for some because when Optimus died in the original movie, it traumatized kids so much that all their negative feelings got channeled into unbridled rage towards the guy who replaced him. However, I hate those guys because they became insufferable as adults, so that really just lowers Roddy’s punchability for me personally. 4/10 punchability he still kind of deserves it though 

Grimlock led the Autobots for a length of time I can’t remember after Optimus died in the Marvel comics. His was a reign of terror. I can’t decide if his jughead crown is kickin or if i want to kick it off him. 7/10 punchability he gets some lenience for his childlike innocence

Another Marvel comics leader was Fortress Maximus, who was also Cerebros. He was also the leader in the Headmasters anime after Rodimus flew off into space forever but I don’t think he actually had a personality in that. He’s a matryoshka of Autobot leaders with each getting smaller and more punchable than the last, ending in Moody College Student Spike Witwicky, who is thankfully the first one on this list who I don’t have to climb something to punch in the face. 9/10 punchability I’m a very short person so I might have to climb something anyways but that isn’t going to stop me

Last Marvel comics character, I swear. Captain Picard Hi-Q binary bonded with Optimus for a while, then Optimus died (this was about the third time), and Hi-Q eventually turned into Optimus so we just considered Optimus alive again. Don’t think too hard about it. 3/10 punchability I really like Star Trek TNG so I probably wouldn’t punch him

Ginrai’s robot self looks exactly like Optimus Prime, but he isn’t. Why he looks like him is sort of hand-waved away in the anime. The real-life reason, of course, is because he was just the Japanese release of Powermaster Optimus Prime. Ginrai is really good because he talks like an American teenager even when his robot form separated from his human self to become the Autobot commander at the end of Super-God Masterforce. 0/10 punchability I just can’t really punch a guy wearing converse, skinny jeans, and suspenders

Star Saber makes me forget that the Autobots were ever good guys. I don’t think he even has a personality outside of “noble and heroic leader.” He adopted a human son and tried to send him to a Catholic school but he doesn’t even buy him a uniform. The kid barely even goes to school in the end. 9/10 punchability don’t adopt a human if you’re not prepared to care for him

Optimus Primal is a good Autobot leader because he never even set out to be anything more than a captain on one ship but ended up sacrificing himself to bring life back to the planet, probably sparking a religious following. He won the “Power of the Primes” vote so he’s got to have a pretty low punchability, but he also looks like his malleble gorilla face would feel nice on my powerful fist. 5/10 punchability when POTP stuff starts coming will his name change to “optimus primal prime”?

Lio Convoy being a cat makes me not want to punch him so much. However, he isn’t a good father. Don’t worry about the kid not really being his son in any sense of the term. Why is ineptitude at fatherhood a recurring theme for Autobot leaders? 8/10 punchability Lio Junior deserved better

I’ll admit that Beast Wars Neo is the only thing on this list that I haven’t seen or read any of, so Big Convoy is mostly here for completion’s sake. Hence I’m rating him entirely on his appearance. Mostly I wouldn’t want to punch a mammoth, because they’re extinct, but I think he could take it. It would be a good workout for both of us. 10/10 punchability no hard feelings, we’re just two dudes lovingly punching each other

In Japan, he’s known as Fire Convoy, continuing their tradition of Autobot leader names, but in the west he’s the first-ever reboot of Optimus Prime. I don’t have a lot of opinions on him as a person or leader, but his existence opened the floodgates of Optimus Primes to come, which I have mixed feelings on. 5/10 punchability I can’t think of a reason to punch him, but I also can’t think of a reason not to

Armada Optimus Prime suffers from being Armada Optimus Prime. I think this was when they really managed to distill “Optimus Prime” down into its truest form. No longer was Optimus Prime a character, but a concept that extended beyond fiction and into our world. Optimus Prime means something. Optimus Prime is a figure for justice, honor, and liberty. 8/10 punchability I still can’t forget Energon though

Do I have to say anything. I’m not even somebody who vehemently dislikes Hot Shot, but for the love of god, why did he ever get to be a leader. 6/10 punchability I’d punch him but I wouldn’t put a lot of force into it, he’s not even worth it

Movie Optimus Prime is. uh. something else, all right. I can admire the movie taking the idea of Optimus Prime and going “okay, but what if he was also a murderbeast?” because I think that’s something we all really wanted to see play out. In practice it kind of scares me. 2/10 punchability I’m worried if I went for his face I’d no longer have mine

Animated Optimus Prime is a good boy. A baby boy. He’s trying his best in a world that seems against him. We all love him. 0/10 punchability I simply can’t bring myself to mar those luscious lips

I’m sure Animated Ultra Magnus did some great things during the war, but, yunno, seeing how Cybertron under him during peacetime is sort of a Stratocracy, I question his fitness to be the leader of a planet. They really gonna let the government run experiments on civilians? Okay. Alright. 4/10 I don’t want to punch him per se but I do sort of want to lead an armed rebellion against him

Hhh. HHHH. HOOGH. HHHAAAHH. HEH. HHhhhHHH. Just seeing Sentinel Prime’s face fills me with anger. If let loose, this rage could level mountains, sink continents, and incinerate entire solar systems. If there is any good in the cosmos, Sentinel Prime will not go unpunched. His face will be shattered into pieces with the sheer power of my unbridled fury. 10,000/10 punchability I have already punched him, spiritually, and I will do it again

I mean, alright. Prime Optimus Prime is kind of the distilled essence of Optimus Prime. If you took all the other Optimus Primes, and took all the things they had in common, and then took out a little bit of the anger because let’s be real here all the other Optimus Primes are quite a bit angrier than this one, you’d get Aligned Optimus Prime. Which is kind of how the Aligned continuity as a whole works. So, yeah, That Sure Is Optimus Prime. 3/10 punchability his soft-spoken words of wisdom would calm me down before I ever even raised my fist

Heatwave is the quintessential non-Optimus Autobot leader. He’s noble and courageous with a good sense of justice, but he was thrust into leadership without being the best and it and is a bit of a hothead. You can use that exact sentence to describe so many of the bots on this list. 4/10 punchability I don’t want to use violent methods when it comes to Rescue Bots but sometimes Heatwave’s personality warrants it 

I honestly can’t believe it took 30 years for a Bumblebee to be leader for reals. It happened so gradually that nobody was surprised when it happened, and yet it also feels like nobody can really accept it. I know I can’t. He doesn’t even look like any Bumblebee. Is this how longtime G1 fans felt when the Unicron trilogy started reusing names for different-but-not-wholly-different characters to keep the trademarks? 8/10 punchability we know you stole your schtick from Hot Rod via Hot Shot so stop trying to act like you’re so special 

Neighbors


Inspired by Shawn’s recent Instagram story and this line:

“Wanna, like– I mean, if you’re not busy… We could get lunch? Or even just coffee if you don’t have a lot of time?”


She sighed, looking around the mess that is her new apartment. Her back hurt, her arms were burning and she was so exhausted, she felt like passing out.

“Where do these boxes go, hun?” her dad asked, holding up a box with “books” written on it.

“Just put those in my bedroom, thanks,” she replied, taking a sip from the beer her best friend had handed her.

Moving into your new fancy place in Toronto could be really awesome but also very tiring and she groaned, seeing all the boxes in her living room she had to unpack.

Her best friend put an arm around her shoulders and as if she could read her friend’s mind she said: “Hey, the view makes this bearable, don’t you think?”

She grinned at her friend, squinting her eyes a little because the sun is shining bright on the balcony. “Yeah, true. The view made me buy this!”

“So… when’s the housewarming party?” her friend asked, raising her perfectly arched eyebrows.

The girl shrugged. “I have to put actual furniture here first. And clean up. And decorate.”

“Yes, yes, Miss to-do-list, I get it. It has to be perfect, I know. As always,” her friend stated, rolling her eyes.

They laughed as they go back inside and she knew she’s nowhere near done yet but she already feels at home. It’s a warm feeling. And she knew this is where she belongs.


Three weeks later

She’s on her way to the elevator, carrying a bag with groceries and another shopping bag from H&M because she just couldn’t resist buying that cute dress and the sweater she really needed as the concierge calls her name.

“Excuse me, Miss!”

She turns around. “Yes?”

“Could I ask you for a favor, please?”

She smiles a little, nodding. “Yeah, sure.”

“I have a parcel for… um,” he looks at the box, “Mister Shawn Mendes. Your neighbor. I know he hasn’t been home for quite a while but could you just take this for me? I have no space to store this and I would have asked Mrs. Johnson from 310 c but she would just forget about it, you know how she is…”

He smiles at her apologetically and she nods again. “Yeah, I can take it. I mean… I haven’t seen my neighbor yet and I don’t know him but I guess it’s a nice way to say hello”

“He’s very nice. You’ll get along perfectly,” the concierge says with a smirk. “You are both young and so hardworking! And both charming young things.”

She smiles back. “Yeah, we’ll see about that and um… thanks!”

She takes the parcel, briefly looking at it in the elevator. It says “Armani headquarters” on it and it got sent all the way from Milan. She raises her eyebrows a little.

Must be nice being a superstar. Getting free designer stuff all the time.

She felt a bit insecure when she found out who her neighbor was. 

Living door to door with a teenage pop sensation slash superstar could be a bit frightening, knowing how famous he really was.

She dreaded the thought of having lunatic fangirls standing in front of her door, screaming and shouting Shawn’s name but so far it has been very quiet and she hasn’t seen him yet as he was probably busy being the good looking popstar he was, traveling the world, making girls scream wherever he went.

She didn’t really get the hype. 

Her best friend freaked out when she found out who the mysterious neighbor was, making her want to move in with her. 

Or camping on Shawn Mendes’ doormat.

But the girl living in the condo next to him, didn’t get too excited. Sure, he was good looking and talented and cute and all of that.

But she didn’t understand how people could scream and shout, seeing him, shoving phones into his face for a selfie when he was just a regular person who happened to sing and play the guitar.

She didn’t understand until she saw him. In person.

It was a Saturday and she knew he was home.

There were footsteps in the hall, male voices, sounds of a guitar and doors shutting and she took a deep breath, brushed her hair and ringed the bell.

She wasn’t wearing anything fancy, heck, she was in her gym shorts and a loose band shirt she got at a concert some time ago. And she was wearing fuzzy socks.

Not sexy at all.

And she regretted her outfit choice as soon as she saw him, standing in the doorframe, looking like a Greek God or something. A light stubble, messy brown curls sticking up slightly, wearing black pants and a white t shirt that fitted him well and as he looked at her, eyes a bit sleepy and a wry smile spreading across his plump lips, she had to swallow thickly.

He blinked twice.

She looked down at the parcel and up at him.

“Um… hi!”

“Hi,” he said in a deep, raspy voice, smiling down at her.

“I’m your new neighbor and I wanted to say hi and I have this parcel for you and um… yeah, hi…” she rambled, blushing a bit because he was looking at her in a way that made her nervous.

He was checking her out. Briefly looking her up and down and she squared her shoulders a little.
His gaze rested on her bare legs for a little bit too long and he bit his bottom lip in a way that made her heart flutter and race and she felt hot suddenly.

“Oh, thank you so much!” he smiled brightly, taking the parcel from her. It looked tiny in his hands. “And nice to meet you,” he added, stretching his hand out. “I’m Shawn”

She shook his hand, saying her name.

“Nice to meet you, too.”

He leaned against the doorframe, obviously not in a hurry to close the door.

“I just hope I don’t bother you with my music. I’m working on something right now and it can get a bit… loud,” he said with a smug grin, dipping his head a little, after nodding into the direction of his condo.

He was towering over her, playing with the parcel in his huge hands and she looked at his long fingers, noticing a silver ring on his middle finger. He was wearing a black watch that looked cool and expensive and she pressed her lips together. She understood it now. The hype. The fangirls.

He looked like a teenage dream. Almost as if he wasn’t real.

Too handsome for his own good.

She looked up at him. “No, um, all good. I don’t mind.”

He gives her a crooked smile, licking his sinfully plump lips. “Okay, good. Just tell me if it’s too loud… and if you need anything I’m right here,” he said in that soft voice of his she already found so endearing.

She awkwardly shifted her weight from one foot to another. “Yeah, thanks! Goes both ways… the if you need anything thing… not the music thing, obviously…”

She blushed and he smiled at her, running his fingers through his curls. “Yeah,” he replied, never breaking eye contact and she felt like dying on that door mat of his.

“Okay, so I should try this on, I guess,” he frowned, looking at the parcel and she nodded.

“Must be something nice… coming from Italy,” she smiled and suddenly regretted her words. “I only saw that it’s from Milan, I didn’t…”

He laughed and it sounded like the most beautiful thing she has ever heard.

“It’s okay! All good. Yeah, they send me awesome stuff now… it’s just really cool because I actually hate going shopping,” he chuckled, blushing himself.

She smiled at him. “Oh, I can’t relate. Shopping is my favorite hobby.”

He tilted his head to the side. “Yeah, well, that’s because you’re a girl… must be natural, eh?”

She laughed. “Yeah, yeah, I guess. So cliché.”

He smirked and she looked down, avoiding his burning gaze. “Okay, um… I’ll leave you alone now… so you can try your new stuff on and yeah…”

He smiled. “Okay, yeah, see you.”

“See you,” she breathed and tried to walk gracefully back into her condo.

Don’t trip, don’t trip. Don’t mess up.

She exhaled loudly, closing the door after her and let out a little groan.
She reached for her phone because she really needed to talk to her best friend now and she quickly typed OMG CALL ME into her phone, pressing send.


Shawn sighed in frustration, looking into his empty fridge.

Living alone was not as cool as he thought it would be. His clothes were dirty and scattered on the floor in front of his washing machine, there was nothing to eat and he missed his mom.

Coming back from tour to his new posh place felt good at first but now all he wanted was to go back to Pickering to eat his mom’s roast and he started to feel jealous of his little sister who got to sleep in a freshly made bed and eat home cooked food all the time.

He groaned, looking at the stove. There was no salt. He had used everything his mom had given to him and he looked down at the chicken he was trying to make taste somewhat eatable.

He bit down on his bottom lip, turning down the John Mayer song he was listening to.
He could go to the supermarket and actually buy food – and get mobbed in the process.

Or he could ask her.

He was pretty positive that she had salt in her perfectly tidy condo with a full fridge and nice flowers everywhere. She looked like a girl who had flowers in her apartment.

And nice pillows.

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. But he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Those long, lean legs. Her nice ass, he got a good look at when she walked back to her condo.

The outlines of her obviously nicely shaped breasts through that grey band shirt and he licked his lips again.

He was feeling frustrated, coming back from tour. He was needy, antsy somehow and he had felt hot and bothered, closing the door after receiving his parcel.

Leaning against the door he had to cup himself through his pants adjusting his cock that had started to stir against his boxers that were getting all tight around his dick as she had turned around and he had watched her hips sway slightly.

There were thoughts in his head. Thoughts he shouldn’t have about a girl he didn’t know.
Inappropriate thoughts crossing his mind. About her. Naked. Moaning his name. Panting. Legs spread and back arched.

He tugged at his hair in desperation. He shouldn’t feel like this about a girl he just met but the way she blushed and rambled made him want to be dominant with her. Be rather rough. Take her from behind maybe because he loved that position and she would feel him deep inside of her.

He felt guilty, thinking that. She probably had a boyfriend anyway. And Shawn would leave for Brazil soon. So that was that.

He hesitated a bit before knocking on her door. But he took a deep breath, fixed his hair and knocked.

His heart started to race, hearing footsteps.

She opened the door and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants.

“Hi!” he said, his voice cracking a little. “So this thing about needing something came sooner than expected,” he said with an amused huff and she smiled up at him.

“Yeah, I guess?”

“Well, I just came home from tour and the only thing that is in my fridge is some mustard and disgusting smelling milk and I wanted to cook something but I ran out of salt,” he frowned a little, his cheeks turning pink. “That’s why I was wondering if - um – if I could borrow some?”

She nodded, giving him a beautiful genuine smile and his heart did a stupid little jumpy thing he didn’t know it could make until then.

“Sure! I got you.”

She turned around and he was about to drool. He shamelessly stared at her ass and he didn’t want to be like this. Lusting over her like some horny teenager. But he couldn’t help himself.
He totally had the hottest neighbor in all of Canada.

She came back from the kitchen. “There you go,” she smiled and his fingertips brushed over hers as he took the small package from her.

“Thank you so much! You saved me from starving! I mean I could always order pizza but I’m trying to impress my mom.”

She let out a soft giggle. “Good luck with the cooking, it smells like you burned something though.”

He looked over his shoulder in an alarmed way. “Oh, fuck, yeah, I should go look after that! Thanks again!”

And with that he ran back into his apartment, trying to save his dinner.


She looks at her freshly baked cupcakes and knows that there is no way she would eat all of that. She had baked too many cupcakes and couldn’t stop thinking about knocking on his door.

She found it way too cute how he had nothing in his fridge and here she was, practically surrounded by food.

That’s why she takes two cupcakes, arranging them on a plate. This time she is prepared. With gloss on her lips, wearing her favorite bra and a nice t shirt, denim jeans and flip flops. All wavy hair and bare tanned legs. She knocks. And waits.

Maybe he isn’t home.

She is about to turn around as she hears footsteps. And there he is.

Shirtless.

Fucking shirtless, only wearing some sweatpants he must have thrown over in a hurry.

“Hey,” he pants, looking at her, slightly confused.

“Hi! Oh. I’m sorry. Didn’t want to disturb!” she says, no, gasps.

He looks almost photoshopped. Ripped abs, defined v line, pecks and arms, defined and muscular. 

She swallows thickly, looking down.

He looks over his shoulder, an alarmed look on his face. “You aren’t! All good. Can I - er - help you?”

“No, no. I just baked those and have some left over and I thought you might like some?” she says tentatively, holding up the little plate.

He smiles in a genuine way, looking very grateful. But still tense.

“That’s so sweet. Thank you very much!”

He presses his lips together, hearing the high-pitched, female voice coming from his bedroom.

“Shawn? Who is that?”

A blonde girl comes up behind him, looking like she’s on the cover of Sport’s Illustrated or something, wearing nothing but a large men’s shirt.

And now she knows where his shirt is.

On some blonde bombshell with a D cup.

Silicone probably.

“Oh,” she squeals. “Cupcakes? Awesome!” the blonde girl grabs one, grinning at Shawn.

“Who’s that, Shawn? Your neighbor?”

Shawn looks flustered and his cheeks are red. As well as his ears.

“Yeah… that’s my neighbor.” He awkwardly introduces them and he shakes his head slightly - desperate -  at his pretty neighbor who looks shell shocked with her plate in hand.

As if he wanted to say no no she’s not my girlfriend. She’s just an one night stand. Meaningless. I swear. I was thinking about you all the time. Imagining you under me. Because you drive me crazy.

“Um-well,” she blurts out. “I should… leave, I’m sorry. Bye,” she hands Shawn the plate as if it had burned her and almost runs into her condo, leaving an embarassed Shawn behind.

He closes the door, groaning in frustration. That was not what he had planned. This shouldn’t have happened.

His one night stand should have left hours ago but she was clingy and annoying and Shawn was too polite to kick her out. But it was time now.

The blonde girl is nibbling on the icing of the cupcake and Shawn picks her clothes up, holding them up.

“Hun, I really should work now, sorry but… you know…” he says, sounding annoyed.

Her eyes widen. “Oh, I see,” she says, sounding ice cold. “I’ll leave. I get it.”

He sighs, turning around so that she could get dressed.

“Bye, Shawn! And don’t ever call me again! Asshole!” she spits out, leaving his place and he slams the door shut. 

“Yeah, bye” he snorts angrily. Just to huff a frustrated “fuck!” afterwards, letting himself fall onto his couch, hitting a pillow in frustration.


He slams his hand against her door. But she won’t open. Of course not.

“Hey! I know you’re home! Come on! Please! Open the door!” he yells.

He rings the bell again. Over and over until it starts to get annoying.

She opens the door with an annoyed huff.

“What?” she hisses. “I’m working on a paper and I need to concentrate. If you would stop ringing my doorbell- that would be nice. Thanks,” and she proceeds to slam the door into his face.

He’s quick, sliding a huge foot into the doorframe.

“No! Wait!”

She rolls her eyes at him, opening the door again.

“Your plate! Here!” he awkwardly holds it up, handing it over to her. “Tasted so good, really! Thank you!”

“Mhm,” she breathes out in an annoyed way. She isn’t exactly mad at him. She’s mad at herself. For believing that she would actually have the tiniest bit of a chance with this guy who looked like a young god and lived the superstar lifestyle. Fucking blonde bombshells included.

“She isn’t - that wasn’t - that girl is not my girlfriend,” he blurts out.

“I don’t care, Shawn”

“Okay. Just wanted to make that clear. I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” he frowns, brows furrowed, curls messy and bopping a little.

“What do you want to hear? I don’t care about your love life or whatever… we don’t even know each other.”

She looks him in the eye, looking dead serious.

He licks his lip nervously and steps closer so that he towers over her, hands on either side of the doorframe. He looks down at her and gulps, tilting his head a little. 

“Wanna, like– I mean, if you’re not busy… We could get lunch? Or even just coffee if you don’t have a lot of time?” he asks, feeling his cheeks get bright red as well as the top of his ears and he shifts his weight from one foot to another.

She tilts her chin up a bit.

“I have to see about that - I actually am busy right now.”

She sounds distant and he sighs.

“Come on… please… I’d love to get to know you.”

She nibbles on her bottom lip. And he wants to kiss her so bad. Part those pretty lips with his and slip his tongue into her mouth. 

He wants, wants, wants her.

“Really?” she says, barely audible.

She knew there were girls out there who would sell their souls for this. A date with Shawn Mendes.

He nods. Eyes dark.

“I’m not who you think I am. I don’t have a different girl every night,” he says quickly.

“I know what you’re thinking. That I’m some stupid teenage star who has a lot of hook ups and gets drunk in fancy bars but I’m not!” he adds. “I’m a regular dude. Really.”

She shrugs. “I don’t really think ‘bout you so you’re good.”

His face falls. “O-okay, right, yeah. I shouldn’t have assumed that.”

His shoulders hang a bit as well as his head and he wants to turn around but she holds him back. “No wait! Sorry, that was kinda rude. I’m just- I mean… coffee would be nice,” she breathes out and his face lights up again.

It frustrates her how freaking adorable he looks like that, smiling, looking like a lovesick puppy.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean- it’s just coffee, right?”

“Just coffee,” he grins.

And he’s already so involved in this. He loves the chase. The thrill. And he can’t wait for what’s to come. 

Twisted Truth or Dare

Originally posted by tomshollandss

Series: Tom Holland Imagines

Relationship: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Reader, Tom and Harrison have play dirty truth or dare 

Warning: Swearing, Sexual flirtation/actions

Word Count: 2,300

A/N: Hope you enjoy this babes.. btw I posted on my Twitter that my rest days will be Monday’s & Thursday! Also 100 more followers till I reach 2,000! 

Inspired by Naughty Girl by Queen B & Tequila :,)


[Reader’s POV]


    “Tom what’s the plan for tonight?” you ask curling your hair in the master bathroom mirror. Looking to the side to see he wasn’t even on the bed anymore. Setting the curler down on the marble counter you stand up. Ruffling the curls for a lil bit to lose them up a bit.


Where is he?


    Your phone dings making you look over at it. Seeing a snapchat notification flash across the screen. Sliding the bar to the left unlocking your phone with Touch ID. The app opens up to show a notification from Tom. Clicking it to see he was recording himself in the living room downstairs. 


    Walking out of your bathroom dressed in one of Tom’s t-shirts and some nike spanx . You were planning to go out but once you got done curling your hair you decided to just spend time with Tom. He was getting ready to take off for Chaos Walking.  He had to cut his hair and you were adjusting to see his hair shorter. 


    Heading out of the room towards the stairs,feet padding against the wood flooring. Taking each step careful cause you tend to slip every so often on the stairs. It was hard being clumsy. Hearing Tom’s voice coming from the living room, followed by laughter.


    Walking down the hallway that leads to your destination. You look at the pictures of you and Tom hung on the wall. A smile coming to your face as you look at the memories. Your hand touches the picture of Tom from when he had his curls. You did miss them but it’s hair and it will grow back.


    Turning you continue to walk to the living room. Harrison’s body comes into view as he holds a bottle of your cucumber and jalepeno vodka you recently bought. Tom gets up once he sees you enter the room, a huge smile on his face. He stumbles over to you pulling you in a hug. A gasp leaves your lips as his hands grip your ass.


“Tom!” you squeak out earning a chuckle from him. Looking up to see his cheeks pink and a silly grin on his face. 


He’s tipsy and soon to be drunk if they keep it at this rate.


“Darling c’mon and drink with me and Hazeroonie” Tom’s lips press against your forehead. He fills another bringing it over to you.


“C’mon drink up, lets play a game shall we?” a grin tugging at his lips as he takes a sip from the cup. His eyes widen making you laugh at his reaction.


“Jesus Tom, what kind of stuff does she drink?” he coughs looking between you and the cup. You quickly down the cup that was handed to you. Sticking out your tongue in a playful manner.


“I like things spicy and I love alcohol, so shut your trap and drink.. If not I’ll drink it cause that stuff isn’t cheap” getting out of Tom’s arms you make your way towards the vodka bottle. Picking it up I pour more into my cup than what he gave me the last time.


“She’s introduced me to more alcohols since we started drinking and do drinking games when we watch our shows” I raise my cup in agreeance at the many memories drinking with Tom.


“I sound like an alcoholic” I laugh out feeling a buzz coming along. The alcohol making its way through my system. There was something you loved about the feeling.


“What were you thinking of playing Haz?” Tom looks in his direction tilting his head to the side like a puppy would.


“How bout..we play Truth or Dare.. if you back out the dare you have to take a shot and if you don’t want to say the Truth question someone asks you.. You take a shot” He grins looking between you and Tom. Raising your cup agreeing but suddenly regretting seeing Tom and Harrison’s grins turn mischievous.


Fuck.


-


“Okay now that she’s on the same level as us, let’s begin” Harrison smiles sitting down on the carpeted floor.Tom pulls you next to him holding onto you,he’s so affectionate when he drinks. He presses a kiss against your cheek making you smile.


“Darlingg why don’t you go first” Tom says rubbing your hand with his thumb.


“Hmmm.. Truth or Dare Harrison?” you ask quirking up and eyebrow.


Truth


“…Have you ever had a sexual dream about me?” You could feel Tom’s hand gripping yours tighter. Harrison coughs from his drink, eyes widening from your question.


“You know this game is going to last a while.. do you want to take a shot or tell the truth?” the smirk on your face prominent. Harrison shifts nervously before making eye contact with you.


“I’ve had sexual dreams and thoughts about you” He says flinching because of Tom’s reaction. Tom was tense next to you making you look up at him.


“Seriously mate?” Tom lets go of you picking up his drink and a bottle of vodka.


“I’m trying to survive this game!” Harrison defends raising his hands up.


“Alright Tom, Truth or Dare?” Harrison asks looking over at his best mate.


“Since I’m not a pussy like you, Dare” Tom had confidence radiating off of him. Boi that’s about to be shut down real quick.


“Keep your hand on her inner thigh till your next turn but move it closer with each turn” Tom jokes how that wasn’t even a bad dare. It was definitely bad for you because alcohol and Tom touching you was your weak point. You bite your lip as Tom’s hand instantly places itself on your inner thigh. Sending a glare to a smirking Harrison, bastard.


   The questions get more intense when some of you dodge em by drinking. You were drunk now and now things could change here. Tom’s hand traveled closer and closer making your thoughts get dirty. Tessa laid down in the center of the circle, so innocent to what’s happening around her.


   Swearing went on when we Harrison dared me to strip in front of them on the stripper pole upstairs and do a dance on the pole.. Tom was upset cause you stripped down to your thong and bra. He shows his jealousy more when he gets intoxicated. Thankfully you did your makeup that night so you could look somewhat decent.


“Truth or Dare”


Truth” you hiccup out looking up at Harrison. Tom was currently in your clothes now and wearing your short Nike spanx. He looked so funny in them you couldn’t help but giggle when you looked over at him.


“How do you really feel about Tom’s hair?” Flinching from the look at the shot glass. You ran out of your vodka and were drinking Tom’s and the kind he has made you gag. It was too strong for you and you didn’t want a shot of it.


“I’m sorry baby, I like it and don’t like it.. I miss your curls especially grabbing onto them when you go down on me” you pout thinking of the last time he went down on you. Harrisons laughter fills the air at your confession.


“It’s just for this movie and I promise I’ll grow it back for you to grab onto it” Tom smiles pulling you over to him. You were in his shirt and sweatpants since the two of you swapped clothes. He puts you in his lap holding onto you.


“Darling, Truth or Dare?” Tom asks pressing kisses on your face making your eyes flutter open. Smiling up at him and poking his nose with your finger. Your action makes Tom laugh at your drunk behavior.


Dare Thomas” you slur with a smile on your face.


“Switch clothes with me and give me a lapdance while Harrison records” eyes widening at the dare he just told you. Harrison had to record?


“Why do I have to record?” Harrison groans falling onto his back letting out a long groan. He sounded like Tina from Bobs Burgers.


“That’s what you get for trying to get her to make out with you and the other time for daring her to strip on the stripper pole in the game room” Tom glares over at his groaning friend. He reaches over throwing a pillow hitting Harrison right in the crotch. Harrison lurches forward grabbing his crotch, face twisted in pain.


“Fuck, okay you twat I’ll do it” Harrison catches Tom’s phone that he tossed over to him. The two of you head towards the bathroom to change. Closing the door behind you and Tom. His back to you, looking down you see his ass hanging out. He probably has a better ass than you.


“Baby your ass was hanging out” you giggle poking his ass making him turn around.


“Bootylicious” He laughs striking a pose, he is such a goof.


   The two of you swapped clothes,now looking normal. He backs you up against the door making your breath hitch in your throat. Feeling his lips kiss your neck made you moan lightly. Tom’s lips travel up right below your ear. You could feel your heartbeat pounding harder.


“Put on a good show for me love” He whispers near your ear before exiting the bathroom. Standing in the bathroom flustered and drunk, not a fun mix.


   Composing yourself of your nerves that boiled up inside you. Pushing them away you look at your blurred self in the mirror. Fixing your hair a bit and making sure your makeup looked decent. Sighing in content you exit the bathroom. 

    Walking through the hall and seeing Tom sitting in the middle of the couch. The couch had enough space for Harrison to walk behind it if he wanted a different shot. Tom was chatting with Harrison that was adjusting the lights in the room. You guessed correctly cause he adjusted the lights behind the couch as well.


“Seriously you’re fixing the lights?” you laugh walking over to the JBL speaker Tom has. Turning on your bluetooth to sync up to it. Once it beeps you start scrolling through your songs.


“If I’m recording I’m doing it my way” Harrison defends with a chuckle. You could feel Tom’s stare burning into you.


“Plus this will give me something to watch when I’m away Angel” Tom’s nickname for you making a smile appear on your lips. He had many names for you but Darling and Angel were your favorites.


   Rolling your eyes at his comment. You knew he had to get off to something while he was away. You rather it be you than some other girl. Focusing back on your task of finding a song you head to your recently played songs. Your eyes landing on one of your favorites. 


    Bringing the speaker where Harrison was standing with Tom’s phone. Setting the speaker down and walking over to Tom holding your phone. Harrison gives you a thumbs up to start the music.The song starts playing loudly on the speaker.Tossing your phone to the side so it lands on the couch.


“Come to Daddy Angel” Tom grins patting his lap. Your cheeks tint a shade of pink from what he just said.


   Walking over to him hands lifting your shirt off letting it fall to the floor behind you. Swaying your hips as you slowly slide your shorts off. Tom’s eyes watching every movement that your body is making. His tongue flicks out and his lips press in a firm line, eyes slowly going down your body and back up. Sitting on his lap straddling him you start grinding against him slowly.


   Your fingers sliding down his chest ,feeling his abs through the shirt. A moan comes from Tom as your hips add more pressure to his growing erection. Biting your lip from the feeling of him underneath you. His head tilts back when he sees you biting your lip,he loved that.


   Tom’s hands grabbed onto your ass when you start kissing his neck. You could feel yourself getting damp from how aroused you were. His hand comes down slapping your ass hard. A moan escapes your lips from the contact. Tom groans as you go back to kissing and sucking on his neck.


“H-Harrison, you can end it ma- oh god yeah end the vi-video and maybe stay downstairs?” He lifts you up off the couch carrying you towards the stairs. He hisses when you bite the skin right at the base of his neck. Hearing the recording end and Harrison groan.


“You did that dare so you could get your dick wet didn’t you” Harrison’s tone full of annoyance. Tom stops looking over at Harrison. You press kisses to Tom’s jaw as he held you up. 


“Dude I’ve been gone for almost a month.. Of c-oh christ we’re going now” Tom not being able talk casually anymore. You tug what hair you could whining from the lack of affection he was giving you. 


    He sets you down so the two of you could go up the stairs. The two of you make your way upstairs towards the bedroom. Harrison picked up his backpack that was by the stairs.Tugging Tom along as he stumble a bit, a cheeky grin on his face.


“Tom please..” you beg when Tom turns around to look at Harrison about to leave. Kneeling on the stairs you bend down trying to get his attention. Giggling as you wiggle your ass his way looking back at him. Harrison’s eyes widen turning away from looking at you causing Tom to jump in shock. 


“Angel stop that! Not while he’s around!” Tom slaps your ass making you laugh and Tom smirk.


“I hate the both of you! I’m leaving!! LAST TIME I SUGGEST A DRINKING GAME!” Harrison shouts before slamming the door behind him. Leaving the house where the two of you had a lot of catching up to do.

break the ice, 1

Pairing:  jungkook x reader x jimin
Genre: sports au, hockey player jungkook & jimin, smut, comedy?, slight angst, fluff too :’)
Warnings: thigh riding, sexting, phone sex, pillow riding
Word Count:  18k
Summary:

There are three rules to become an official Puck Bunny:
1.     You have to love hockey. No exceptions.
2.     You have to had slept with at least three hockey players. Starters, no benchwarmers.
3.     And most importantly, have fun!

A/N: i wanted this to be a oneshot but i kept adding and adding more :( …
anyway… enjoy part 1!!

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Infinity - Made in the A.M. series

Originally posted by twofronteeth

Requests: 1. Getting into a fight with h at Anne’s house please. 2. request-going to lunch with h, his family, and your family. (These were two separate requests I just combined them)

Pairing: Harry Styles x reader

A/N: I’m starting to work on the requests I’ve been sent, thank you so much to everyone who has been sending them! Feel free to send more 


It had been one of the best days you had had with Harry in a while.

Every day you spent with him seemed to be a great day, but he had been really busy lately so the two of you hadn’t been able to do much. You never blamed him, this was the lifestyle you signed on for after all, but you were still grateful for days like this.

The two of you had started the day with a lazy sleep in. Despite it being the late morning you had remained in bed, shifting from lying in each other’s arms to gentle, loving kisses for hours. The two of you shared some long-awaited downtime together, just drinking each other in.

But when the time on your bedside clock had hit 11 o’clock the two of you had begrudgingly gotten out of bed and started getting ready for the day. Anne had been planning this lunch for weeks and the last thing she would have wanted was for the two of you to be late. You both knew how her mind went to the worst case scenario when anyone was more than three minutes late.

So, punctual as ever, Harry’s car rolled into the driveway of his family home right on 12:30. You had gone to open the door to get out but Harry had grabbed your arm to catch your attention. “Hey,” he spoke softly, “I love you.”

You were sure your smile spread from ear to ear as you returned those three little words. You leaned over to place one last gentle kiss on Harry’s lips before you joined both his and your family for lunch.

When you walked in, both your families were already scattered in small groups throughout the house, each in separate conversations. “Y/N!” Anne exclaimed as she saw you walk through the door. She quickly made her way over to you and wrapped you up in a big hug, squeezing you so tight you could hardly breathe. “Good to see you too, Mum,” Harry joked as he stood to the side.

She gave him a light smack on the arm but pulled him into a hug seconds later. “It’s good to see you,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

The two of you spent the next half hour greeting the rest of the family members who were at the gathering and sipping champagne, up until Anne announced that the food was ready. You both took your seats at the table and seconds later Harry had placed his hand on your thigh, tracing small circles with his thumb.

For a while, everything was complete bliss. Harry was by your side and your family was all around, chatting and eating great food. You had always been very family orientated and times like this were one of the things you loved most in this world.

Everything was going perfectly until your mother brought up your family friend, Isabelle, having a baby last week.

“Hopefully it won’t be long until Harry and Y/N start giving us cute little grandchildren,” Anne said with a grin.

“Well, he better put a ring on it first,” you joked and everyone else laughed along easily.

Everyone, that is, but Harry.

At your words, he hastily removed his hand from your thigh and your laughing was cut short. A few people around the table, as well as yourself, noticed his sour expression, Gemma being one of them. With a quick glance between the two of you, she knew to change the subject.

“I’m thinking of visiting Isabelle and the baby tomorrow if anyone wants to join me,” she broke the silence that had filled the room. By now everyone had noticed that Harry did not appreciate your joke, so everyone was quick to latch onto her subject change.

You, on the other hand, just looked at Harry in confusion. What was his problem? The two of you had been dating for over three years now and had been living together for almost two. Surely marriage is what you were working towards. The two of you had never said it out loud before, but you had thought you had this silent understanding of what you both wanted for the future. But now you were starting to doubt this.

Harry refused to meet your gaze, eyes moving to whoever was speaking at that moment but never engaging in the conversation.

You stared down at your food, no longer feeling at all hungry.

“Excuse me,” you mumbled, standing in your chair abruptly.

“You alright love?” Anne looked at you in concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just going to the bathroom sorry,” you smiled at her, but it didn’t meet your eyes.

You quickly exited the dining room, acutely aware of Harry standing in his place and following you out. You walked all the way to the other end of the house before turning to face Harry, you didn’t want your families to hear any of this conversation. You opened your mouth to speak but Harry beat you to it.

“What the hell was that Y/N?” he snapped at you.

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What Lovers Do: Part 1

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You have a friend with benefits relationship with the Winter Soldier himself: Bucky Barnes. You two have gotten the routine down: wake up, train, mission, come home, have sex, then act like nothing happened. It’s worked for you for a while now. But now that Bucky’s starting to see someone seriously, you don’t know what to do with yourself.

Warnings: implications of smut, ANGST

A/N: I got too excited so I decided to just post the first part today! If you want to be tagged in the series, please send me an ASK. EDIT: Tagging is now CLOSED. 


You and Bucky laid on the bed, naked, sweaty and panting. You just went three rounds of your “bedroom exercises”. You stared at the ceiling still in the post-sex haze.

“I’m seeing someone.” Bucky sais breaking the silence.

You turn your head to look at him, but he continues to stare at the ceiling, “Oh?”

“I think it’s getting serious.”

Your mouth suddenly feels really dry. You knew this would happen eventually, but you figured you’d be the one to break it off. Not Bucky. You wished it was you to find someone. But no. You couldn’t. Not when the guy you just had sex with was the one for you.

“What’s her name?” You looked at him teasingly, trying to hide the pain.

Bucky smiled, “Melissa, but she goes by Mellie.” Bucky turns to you and props his head on his hand, “Y/N, she’s so beautiful, kind, and funny. She knows about my past and she accepts me for who I am. It’s-It’s so amazing. She’s so amazing.”

You have him a small smile, the smile not reaching your eyes, “I’m happy for you, Buck.”

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splinter (m)

» pairing: jungkook x reader

» genre: angst, non-explicit smut / college au

» word count: 6,518

» description: Perhaps in their last moments together, the pieces won’t seem so broken. That maybe even with their jaded hearts they can salvage some replica of what it all once was. 

» note: there are mentions of cheating in this story

People love to talk about the ‘what ifs.’

What if they had just kept going, what if they had chosen a different path, what if things had just gone the way they had so desperately wanted them to? Humans torture themselves with these thoughts, all while urgently grappling at the threads of their memories that led to the fork in the road where things went awry. They ponder them tirelessly, wondering if they could’ve done something different, only to realize in the end that it didn’t matter because what was done was done. It was that simple, yet again, people still loved to talk, ponder, and torture themselves with the possibility of what if — However, in your personal experience, there was something much worse.

There was a sub-group of sorts to the what-ifs, called the ‘almosts.’ Almosts are burning flames of misery because they tease you by getting so heartbreakingly close to what you wanted. They were in your reach, resting on the tip of your tongue, only to dissipate before you could swallow it down and make it yours.

So yeah, you weren’t a fan of the-almosts. But what you were even less keen on was being in the same room as your almost, the thread of memories making the air thick as it wrapped its way around your throat.

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