the millionaire and his lover | jjk

summary: over the course of your lifelong friendship with jungkook, you can’t say that you’ve ever had the greatest ideas, and a fake relationship with the boy you’ve been in love with for years is no exception. 

{self-gratuitous ceo au, friends-to-lovers, and fake relationship trope rolled into one big shitstorm of a jungkook fic}

pairing: jungkook x female reader
word count: 18k
genre: fluff, angst, and light smut
warnings: alcohol mentions, smut
a/n: hello all! i wanted to kickoff my writing on this blog with a bang, so here’s a longish fic on my wildest dreams. 

When you first tell people that you happen to know CEO and multimillionaire Jeon Jungkook, they tell you one of three things:

1: You’re so lucky! Could you introduce me?

2: You must have saved an entire country in your past life.

3: Is he as much of an asshole as the news outlets make him out to be?

What you don’t say, though, is this: You and Jungkook have had history for as long as you could remember. As not only neighbors, but also childhood friends, you happen to know quite a lot about the man who made a name of himself before he even graduated from university. You would also very much like to keep quiet the fact that you’ve harbored a crush on the boy for quite some time now, obvious to everyone whose name isn’t Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook is, in one word, brilliant. He is brilliantly intelligent, brilliantly talented, brilliantly beautiful. He is suave and smooth and gets what he wants and if he didn’t possess such a disdain for the tabloids that do nothing but stretch the truth, he would have them wrapped around his finger. Sure, he’s no actor or singer, but he is a celebrity, and a skilled one at that. The media know no boundaries when it comes to a man like Jungkook, painting him as stunning yet rude, rich yet selfish, smart but cold. You know they blow his brief affairs out of proportion, and you know they will never know the boy who fell off of his bicycle in the second grade.

Jungkook is not powerful enough to replace the stars in your sky, but he is powerful enough to rearrange them right in front of your eyes, creating endless constellations that all remind you of him. He is the boy you have cherished since your elementary school days, when he would accidentally drool on your shoulder and throw sand into your mouth, and you are the girl who, despite all class differences, has stuck by him through thick and thin. It is not enough, but perhaps to him, it is.

“Do you ever try to mooch off of his wealth?” People ask you. “I would.”

And sure, every now and then you will ask him for money and he will give it to you, but your intentions are pure and you do not, will not, ever take his generosity for granted. Not when he has so much and you so little. You know what life is like when the world keeps trying to trip you, and a bit of smooth ground is not enough to keep you from forgetting the struggle.

That is, until you get laid off your job due to an influx of new workers, and your next student debt payment is due in roughly, a week.


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bmc characters as things my dad has done
  • michael: walked into a bathroom empty handed and came out an hour and a half later in a onesie
  • rich: screamed "RUDE" when a bonfire burned him and tried to kick it
  • jake: came home with a box full of fake lizards and told me their names, all of which were wicked characters
  • jenna: comes home everyday and lays on my bed and talks shit about his co-workers
  • brooke: was once found in only gym shorts behind the chicken coop eating frozen yogurt (this was before I was born)
  • jeremy: flipped off someone who offered to tell him what was "cool" and "uncool"
  • chloe: was once the most popular kid at school then ruined it by getting a mullet and dying his hair white-blonde
  • christine: recited every song of hamilton just so he could sing it on my birthday, when we went to see it in chicago
  • squip: made co-worker cry by telling him eminem was dead
  • mr. heere: forgot to put his pants on when he left for work
  • mr. reyes: ate five hot pockets in a day so that no one else could take them
The Arrangement (Part 3)

Summary: Dean reflects on your first date, and makes plans. The second date goes a little better, though Dean finds out how good your acting skills really are.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,700

Warnings: language, angst, sexual implications/references (shocking, Dean’s mind is in the gutter)

A/N: Part 3! Hope you guys like it! (not my image, but this is was my Dean inspiration for this part)

Need to catch up? Part 1 - Part 2

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kingofpunssans  asked:

how was the camping trip?

Pretty alright. We were near Malibu, which made for probably the weirdest camping experience of my life. Saw some tidepools. Hung out in a tent with CC and CK which is cool.

Once, I was in one of the bathrooms. The campground has these bathroom/shower buildings that are here and there. I was taking a poop, as you do. And I was maybe taking slightly long and I heard this loud knocking at my door and I said “Yeah?” and there was no answer so I ignored it. Then I hear this old lady voice say “Ugh. They’re probably shooting up in there.” and I was like “???” and ignored it. Then maybe thirty seconds later an even louder knock comes and the same old lady voice is like “HEY QUIT SHOOTING UP IN THERE!!”. And in a way I was kind of relishing the fact that someone had been this rude to me because like, when do you get to yell at a stranger and feel like you’re in the right? So without missing a beat I shout back at her like “I’M NOT TAKING DRUGS! DON’T BE RUDE!!!!” She didn’t reply. I came out a bit after that. Never saw her face. But I immediately went and told everyone at camp about the thing that had happened to me because I dunno. I guess yelling at rude strangers makes me feel alive???

Anyway, don’t camp near Malibu. You get a lot of rude rich people there. Cool tide pools tho. Lots of hermit crabs. Very cute.


The Puppy AU

Originally posted by althingscute

Originally posted by teenwolf--imagines

Theo x Reader

Theo’s house layout

“All eyes are on the newest werewolf update!” The news reporter sounded excited making you roll your eyes. No one should be that happy before seven thirty in the morning. “Ethan and Danny were seen arriving at the infamous Dr Deaton  with what we believe could be their third pup, we will keep you updated throughout the day.”

“Why’re you watching this?” Theo groaned as he walked into the kitchen, joggers slung low on his hips as he glanced out of the huge windows that overlooked the back garden, sliding open the door as he sucked in a deep breath.

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Would be bloody lovely (Bruce Wayne Imagine)

Requested: Yes
Request:  Can I request one where reader is batmom and after batman rescues her from somewhere he kisses BATMAN and like the next morning all over the papers claim “Y/N WAYNE CHEATING ON BRUCE WAYNE WITH BATMAN?!?!?!” And then they have to like control the situation
Summary: after pictures of you and Batman surface, damage control is needed. 
Word count: 617
Warning(s): none

Being Bruce Wayne’s wife wife came with many risks, such as the kids waging war on each other, sleepless nights, lame galas, rich rude people and of course the occasional kidnapping. 

Tonight was your lucky night, you got the kidnapping option, which happened be the least risky and your personal favorite. After about the fourth maybe fifth time you just didn’t care anymore.

The criminals always just wanted money, the plan was poorly thought out and rushed, and Batman had no trouble coming to save you. You loved seeing the crooks utter confusion when you were as calm as regular. They didn’t understand the nonexistence of fear. After sitting in a gross, old, dark and abandoned storage building for what felt like a lifetime, you hear glass break. Batman, Robin, Red Hood and Nightwing swing in through the barely there windowns, Tim must have been in the batcave with Alfred. The offenders scramble around in fear. The fight was short, only about three minutes or so, but you were annoyed. “Would be bloody lovely if someone could come untie me,” You sassed, pulling slightly on your binds to show them to the boys.

Batman approached, “Patience love” He mumbles, releasing your feet first and then your arms.

They didn’t hurt you, did they ma?”  Jason asks.

They wouldn’t dare,” You chuckle, causing everyone to laugh.

Bruce grabs onto you, holding you close, before grappling out to the closest roof top, the boys in tow. 

A kiss for my saviour.” You say, pressing my lips to his in a loving kiss. Little did you know that the ruckus had not only attracted normal civilians, but also some reporters and paparazzi.

Nightwing and I will continue patrol, Robin and Red hood will take you home,” Bman says, getting out of the kiss.

The next morning you decided to take a day to relax from last nights events. Meaning you woke up much later then Bruce, he needed to go to work pretty early. You painted your toenails and now were sitting on the sofa in the living room, Alfred had just brought you a fresh cup of tea. Sipping on the hot drink you notice a newspaper on the table, you only see a part of the title because of the way it’s been folded. “y/n Way..” It says, getting your attention. Grabbing the paper you’re shocked at the headline.

“Y/n Wayne cheating on Bruce Wayne with Batman?!?” 

Underneath it a dark picture of you and Batman sharing a kiss on top of a building.

Quickly you dial Bruce, “Hello Y/n, Everything okay?” He answers right away.

Have you seen the newspaper?” you ask

No, give me a moment.” He says getting up from his desk, looking around the room, he knew he saw it somewhere. Shuffling around he finally found it. “Oh my…” He says.

What are we going to do, Bruce?” You ask, in worry.

I’ll have a round of interviews organized for this week. We could deny this, saying it’s someone else, since the pictures are very low quality. You could barely make out who is on the picture.”

“Would be bloody lovely if they stopped making me sound like a woman of questionable morals.” 

And that’s what you two did. Interview after interview you keep telling everyone how happy you are together and how you were together the night it was taken. Saying how it has to be someone else. 

By the end of the week you swore to be more careful with which version of Bruce you kissed and where.

Even though the entertainment world were very sceptical, they decided to finally let it go after you two adamantly said you were still happy. 


With love,

I’ve been thinking, should I write a fic on here? I have a few on my AO3 (TakeASipOfMySecretPotion) but should I do one on here?



Sam wasn’t shy - no way. He was very loud mouthed and opinionated, though not many agreed with what he said. He and Alexander Hamilton were basically total opposites, which led to a lot of arguments between the two.

Which is odd, because despite never agreeing, the two were actually pretty good friends. Which was both a good and bad thing. Bad thing here right now, because the loud mouthed idiot was making heads turn to their table. 

Including, non other than George King, the man Sam has had a crush on since elementary school. As kids they were friends, but he moved back to England in fifth grade and just barely moved back last year.

So here they were, having some subs at some local shop when George and his friends entered, and Sam had fallen silent. Alex took notice. And he seemed to have planned to make sure he’d embarrass Sam. 

“Alexander I will not argue with you for two weeks if you would please just shut up!” His voice came out a hiss, and Alex rolled his eyes.

“If you’re so in love with him go get him, go talk to him! Compliment him or something!”

Sam sent him a bitch face, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, cause the richest and most popular guy on campus is going to talk to me.”

“Well, why not?”

Sam shook his head, taking a sip of his drink before realizing it was empty. “For someone so smart you’re quite oblivious Alexander.”

Sam was one of the only ones who still called him by his full name, and no matter how many times Alex said he didn’t stop. Sam stood, heading to the cheap soda machine the shop had. He filled the cup almost to the top, dumping a bit out so he didn’t spill it while walking back.

He hadn’t picked his head up, focused on flipping the top in his hand to put it on when -

He let out a startled gasp, as he turned and crashed into someone, the cup squished and spilling cold soda on the two of them. “Oh my God I’m so sorry I - “ He looked up, face to face - well, face to chest? - with, of course, George King.

Jesus fucking Christ when did my life become a cliche movie? Why was that the only thing going through his mind?!

“H-Holy shit I-I’m sorry!” Was that his voice? Was that his voice? It sounded more like a mouse!

There were rumors about the Kings family, the snooty, rich folk who were rude and cruel to people who made less than them. So, everybody. He didn’t expect George to be different, so that thought, added to the fact he’s had a crush on this man since he was seven, added to his anxiety.

George, though, surprised him and laughed, grabbing a few napkins. “Normally when someone comes over to talk to you, you don’t dump your drinks on them.” He quirked an eyebrow, “Or is this an American thing?”

“N-No! I wasn’t looking and I - wait, you were coming to talk to me?”

George nodded. “M-Me?”

“Yes,” George laughed, “No one else spilled their drink on me that I could be meaning.” 

Sam smiled shyly, “I’m…so so sorry.”

George waved it off - literally, he raised a hand and waved it off, rolling his eyes. “Don’t worry about it, never liked this shirt. Too tight and itchy, now it gives me an excuse to get rid of it!”

“Just because there’s soda on it?”

“Well if I throw it in the washer without knowing it could be damaged then it’ll be unwearable.” He shrugged, “Sisters enjoy trying to make brothers their guinea pigs.”

Sam, hand still dripping wet, laughed a bit, grabbing a few more napkins and drying his hands. George’s face suddenly went serious.

“Though, you do have to make it up to me.”

Oh here they go. “H-How much was the shirt?”

George shrugged. “Not sure, my sister bought it. Maybe, what would it be in American mo - oh! About three hundred.”

“T-Three hundred?!” He didn’t even have enough money for a pack of ramen from the dollar store. 

“Well, the other way is to go on a date with me.”

Sam blinked, once, twice, three times. George’s face had gone red by this point, but he remained calm looking. “A-A date? With, me?”

“Yes, again, no one else here has spilled their drinks on me, so I do mean you, Samuel Seabury.”

“You know my name?”

George laughed, “Course I do Sammy, I may have moved but I hadn’t forgotten you. I must admit, these years have done good for you, you’re far more cuter than I remember.”

Oh Lord if this be a cruel trick on him may God strike him dead right there.

“I - uh - um - y-yeah! I mean, a date sounds - sounds nice.”

George beamed. Oh my God how are his teeth so white? Thought that only happened in commercials for toothpaste.

“Great! Which dorm room is yours?”

“Oh uh, room 176.”

“Great,” He grabbed Sam’s hand, bowing slightly and kissing the back of it, “I’ll see you tonight Sammy. Seven o’clock, sharp.”

Sam nodded, he felt like his vocal cords had all but been ripped from his body. George winked, heading back to his table, grabbing his few belongings before leaving the shop.

He went back to the table in a bit of a daze, and they all raised an eyebrow at him. “I-I have a date tonight. With, George King…Who, remembers me?”

They all cheered, patting him on the back as Lafayette began planning his outfit.

He grinned, he had a date.

With George King.

God hadn’t struck him dead so it wasn’t a joke.

Man was his life good.

Dues to Be Paid || Soonyoung || Oneshot

Originally posted by visual-17

Word Count: 2346

Genre: oneshot, drama, angst, fluff

Summary: There was a lot of unresolved animosity between him and you but for some reason, on the day he should be happiest, he missed you and he wished that you were by his side. (A/N: Based on the old series Dues to Be Paid that I deleted. Hopefully this will provide a nice, cushioned conclusion to the uncompleted series.) 

There was a buzz in the air that permeated throughout the club. It came from the lights, the music, the alcohol, and the dancing and it seeped into people’s bodies, making them forget who they were and giving them the adrenaline and courage to do things they wouldn’t normally though.

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I noticed people keep saying that Emma Roberts played one character, the bitchy girl similar to Madison Montgomery. So I chose ten of her biggest projects, mainly from when she was 18+ leaving out Aquamarine and Unfabulous and I decided to bring them to together and mark the main characteristics of each character that she played. The only roles that I see similar would be Madison and Poppy, both rich and rude (Poppy in the beginning of Wild Child) and these projects years apart. Jill is nothing like Madison but there is also a lot of violence and blood marked by the trademark Scream projects. 

anonymous asked:

Billy and Steve going to a country club with Steve's parents and He promises Steve that he will try to be on his best behavior but still acts like himself in front of these high class people and he would probably take one of the golf carts for a joy ride.


So yeah Billy would decide they’re all rich assholes and be rude af and like make fun of a guy’s tupee and shit like that and at first Steve would be pissed BUT then his dad would say something shitty and passive-aggressive about Steve having a boyfriend in the first place (even though his parents are totally pretending they don’t know but they know) and he makes a crack about Billy’s class and then Steve’s just like, “You know what, babe, go to town.” 


Bad Habit (M) Pt.1

Jimin x Reader


Description: You were Jungkooks first crush and Jimin was just trying to get you to give his younger friend a chance. Or so you thought. Park Jimin usually used money to get he wanted and selfishly took what he couldn’t, but where did you fit into this equation? And why couldn’t he just leave you alone?

Tags: Rude Jimin, Rich kids au, Dom Jimin, rough smut, language.

A/N: Based after this vine more or less- & maybe even this one.. sorry this isnt the mafia fic. I couldnt help myself..

Word Count: 4,055

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

“Flirt with him.” Jimin mutters, leaning casually against the claw machine that you’d been playing just to avoid him. “I’ll even pay you.” He whispers. Like him forcing you wasn’t bad enough already.

Jimin was always irritating, but lately.. it had become excessive.

You bite down on your lower lip to keep from snapping and force a smile up in his direction. “If you keep bothering me, I might just pay you to leave me alone.”

He smirks because Jimin always knew exactly what to say and how badly it would hurt you. “Don’t be so quick to spend your money, sweetheart. We both know you need it more than I do.” 

And there was a moment of honest to god hurt in your expression before you could hide it. 

“Fuck off.” You drag your eyes away, disgusted by his comment but not willing enough to leave yet. Because if you left now, he’d win.

So you shove in another dollar and reluctantly go for it again.

How could you have honestly ever liked someone so heartless? It was a long time ago. Back when you’d first transferred here and everyone had a thing for Park Jimin. In public, he was charming. But in reality.. well, he was just about the opposite.

Why he never had a girlfriend.. Why girls just seemed to watch him from afar.. 

It soon became clear that everyone stayed away from him and his posse for a reason.

You sigh when the claw comes up empty again. 

At this point, you’d spent more money here than the damn thing was even worth.

“You’re really good at missing it.” He says sarcastically.

You ignore him, pulling out yet another dollar.

“Anywhere you want, I’ll pay for the whole thing. All you need to do is show up.” He goes for his wallet, shuffling through fifties and pulling out four of them. “I’ll even pay you back the money you spent here.”

“I didn’t spend that much.” You roll your eyes, focusing more on the target than you were on him.

“Then I’ll double it, four hundred.. and I’ll win you the stupid stuffed animal.”

Reluctantly your eyes go up to meet his, taking him seriously for the first time tonight. “Why do you care so much?”

“Because I care about him.” He shrugs, crossing his arms like he hadn’t just admitted to having a heart. “You’re just his first crush. He’s too young to know any better.”

You raise a brow. “Any better?”

“Yeah.” He looks you over.. all of you. Head to toe. “You didn’t think I was actually trying to set you guys up, right? I want him to realize-”

“Realize what?” You try not to overreact. It was just Jimin being Jimin after all.

“That you’re boring. A scholarship student. You.” 

He was too much of an asshole to deal with even when asking you for a favor..

“Okay, fine. Win me the toy and I’ll consider going on this date.”

He pushes off the machine and tucks back both sleeves, attempting to pop his neck. Jimin was a lot of things. An asshole. Arrogant. And rich. But even money couldn’t win him the stuffed dog you wanted.

His first attempt was so bad, it wasn’t even remotely close.

“I don’t play kids games.” He says on the second to make himself feel better.

“I know. Even kids are better than you. That’s a little sad, don’t you think?”

He huffs, straightening up and running both hands through his faded orange hair. He was even worse than you thought he’d be. Worse than you.

Finally, there was something Park Jimin couldn’t do.

So he tries again. And again. And again. 

You snicker. “I’m pretty good at missing.. but you’re definitely better.”

His eyes darken when you laugh at him. 

“You know what? Forget it.” He kicks the machine, “Waste all your money on this rigged ass game and see if care. You aren’t even worth that stuffed animal.” He turns to leave but halfway to the entrance, you call for him.

“Wait!” It was a split second decision. It was your pride on the line, making you take this risk. “I’ll do it.” You mutter stupidly, the adrenaline making your heart pound. “I don’t care where we go, but I’ll do it.”

You were going to prove him wrong.

You spent all afternoon getting ready. No makeup would be too plain, but wearing makeup.. would it make you seem too desperate?

Finally, there was a knock at your door, 7 o'clock sharp.

No turning back now.

Jimin was leaning up against the doorframe. “Cinderella, all ready for her- ” He finally looks up from his phone to find you looking.. way better than he thought you would. He was speechless. His eyes trail over your figure in the dress making him instinctively stand up a little straighter. 

It was a big transition.

But instead of feeling beautiful, you felt vulnerable, dressed lavishly in clothes that his money had provided. This felt like some big joke, and you were just his clown for the night.

“Are you wearing makeup?” He clears his throat, trying to play off his momentary loss for words. “I didn’t even know you owned any.”

Your brows furrow. Leave it to Jimin to fuck up his own chances of finally having the upper hand. Even if you didn’t feel it, you’d act confident tonight just to spite him.

“I have makeup, I just don’t care to wear it around assholes like you.” You slam the door shut and turn to lock it. 

He shamelessly glances down at your ass as you do. “I can’t wait for Jungkook to realize that you’re.. you.” He huffs.

You ignore him, walking over to his car without once looking back at him.

“If you don’t open the door for me, I’m not going.” You say, so he jogs over to your side and opens the door like it was no big deal. 

Honestly, you were expecting him to put up more of a fight.

His truck was nicer inside than you thought it would be. You’d seen it around school before, front and center beside Taehyung’s matching one, but you never imagined actually being in it. Jungkook wasn’t old enough to drive yet, but you were sure he’d have his license within the year, and a matching truck with reserved parking to go with it.

“Are we picking him up on the way?” You grin. “Because if we are I’m calling shotgun.”

“I’d rather throw you in the trunk but that’s illegal.” Jimin rolls his eyes, pulling out of the parking space. 

The place was definitely five star and it showed. You could see the city no matter where you sat and it was so modern, yet elegantly beautiful that you couldn’t not love it. The glass surrounding walls even made it seem like you were eating out by the city, instead of the stuffy, rich place you imagined being taken to. 

You didn’t even know where to look with so much to see. 

This was also way better than the instant ramen you’d been living off of.

Jungkook immediately stands when you arrive and goes to pull out your chair He was not at all what you’d been expecting. Jimin nods over at his best friend and smiles at you like you two were close.


But you smile back at him for the sake of first impressions and he finally turns to leave.

The first few minutes were awkward, but he was surprisingly really sweet. Jungkook was just about the polar opposite of Jimin. He made hanging out with him and Taehyung seem not so bad when he talked about them. He even ordered for the both of you, so you wouldn’t have to look over the gourmet menu with foods and spices that you’d never even heard of.

The night couldn’t have finished off any better. 

He was surprisingly easy to talk to and even made you laugh more than you thought he would. Being older than him didn’t even bother you after the first thirty minutes. He was a good guy. But good guys just.. weren’t your thing.

You pull the pins from your hair one by one, shutting the door and only stopping to check your cell phone.

Jimin was calling?

You drop the umbrella and reluctantly answer, pressing the phone to your ear.

“Open the door.” He demands, his voice sounding different. Was he drunk? No, he was angry. “Now.”

You let the phone drift to your side and turn to unlock the door for him. It was pouring outside. You’d almost forgot. 

”Are you crazy!“ You pull him inside and shut the door swiftly behind him. Thankfully he wasn’t too wet yet. “What are you doing! Why are you-”

“Are you a witch? Huh? Did you bribe him?”

“What are you talking about?”

Jungkook likes you even more now! What did you do?

“I didn’t do anything!” You yell over his booming voice in the empty apartment. He wasn’t making any sense.

“Then what does he have that I don’t?” He says, catching you completely off guard. “I’m rich too, I’m attractive, why do you treat me like shit and not him?”

It wasn’t an affection thing, it was a sex thing. Jimin wanted you because he couldn’t have you. He wanted you because you were so unattainable. And a small part of him even wanted you because you’d been the first girl to frustrate him this badly and leave him with nothing he could do about it. Till now.

You take a step back, not expecting those words to have left his mouth when suddenly he comes forward and presses his lips to yours, answering your unspoken question.

Your eyes widen. 

“Stop!” You quickly force him away, putting a hand up to keep him back, “What are you doing?”

He comes closer and runs a hand down your side like it was obvious. “I’m going to fuck you in this dress.” He mutters and you feel a fire light beneath his palm as he slides it behind your neck for better grip. “Are you going to try and stop me?” He dares, raising a brow and tightening the other heavy hand at your waist.

You try and speak, your eyes now on his plump lips. They were suddenly so enticing from every angle. You’d never even noticed them before now. Never thought of how good they might feel against yours until he forced them there.

“No.” You admit, because he wasn’t going to continue until you gave in too. To the end, it was a game of will for the both of you. One he’d already lost by coming here. 

So he kisses you again. 

This time, his lips were carnal and demanding against yours. Did you want this from him before? He slips his tongue in your mouth, making it hard to think about anything but him. You definitely wanted him now.

The hand behind your neck was holding you up and the one at your waist was slowly feeling lower and lower till he was groping you through the dress, forcing a moan from you into his own mouth.

He pulls away. “You live alone right?”

You nod.

“Good.” And he kisses you again, pushing you further and further back into your apartment.

You flinch, “Shit..”  -your heel snapping when his pace became too much for you to keep up with. “I’m so sorry..” You look down at it, now useless. You knew enough about shoes to know they were expensive. “I know they’re expensive, I’ll-”

“Forget the shoes.” He growls, and lifts you up unexpectedly, forcing your legs around his waist.

You gasp at the bulge in his jeans really pressing against you. 

“Fuck..” You mutter, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

He made his way to your bedroom, ever step forcing his dick against your delicate core without even meaning to. It was the position. It was his size. It made you tremble and want him closer.. so you close your legs tighter around his waist.

“I thought you hated me..” You mutter.

He pushes you back onto the bed, forcing your legs apart. “I do.”

“Then?” You fight back a blush at his proximity.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to fuck you.” He mutters, then runs a finger over your already wet panties.

You moan at the unexpected attention there. 

“You piss me off..” He says, swirling the pad of his thumb over the thin, moist fabric there and teasing you. “I don’t know why, but I can’t stop thinking about you in this dress.” 

He groans, before getting on his knees and running his nose down the length of your inner thigh. 

“But I also can’t stop picturing you out of it.” He growls, then suddenly runs his tongue over the more moist part of your panties.

You arch, his tongue sending a wave of pleasure through you that you weren’t expecting. “Jimin stop..” You whimper pathetically, running a hand through his hair and instead forcing him down further against your throbbing cunt.

He was so good with his tongue. Even through your panties he could make you cum.

You could feel it building..

“Wait-” You gasp when he shoves aside the thin fabric and slips in two fingers. His tongue was still moving against you, pushing over and over, like waves of the ocean. 

You moan, the sensation burning hot inside of you now and really growing to a peak. You were so close. “Don’t stop..” You beg, but he pulls away anyway.

“Sorry sweetheart.” He smirks, getting to his feet and leaning over you on the bed. His hand slowly weaves its way into your hair so he can grip the strands and force your head back to watch you better. Watch you panting, so close to an orgasm that you could almost still feel his tongue against you.. 

You desperately wanted for him to finish what he started.

Willing enough to beg for it.

“Now you know how it feels.” He huffs.

You couldn’t even ask what he meant by that before he flipped you onto your stomach, pulling off his shirt. “I wanted Jungkook to hate you like you made me hate you.. but he wanted you even more instead.” He shook his head, running a hand over your backside.

You weren’t sure what he felt towards you. Sexual frustration was most likely the answer.

“You make me so mad.” He sighs. 

You weren’t even sure what he meant by that when he suddenly slaps your ass. 

You gasp

Even through the fabric, it stung. 

His hand was still heavy against you but somehow it turned you on. “Again..” You moan against the mattress, turning to try and watch him. He caresses the aching area and brings his hand back down mercilessly, this time, harder.

“Sit up.” He commands, and you unsteadily get to your knees. 

Gently he pulls the zipper of your dress down and runs a hand over the exposed part of your back. You close your eyes when his lips press right below the nape of your neck.

He continues, leading kisses lower and lower, only occasionally stopping to run his teeth over your more sensitive areas before slipping the straps off your shoulders. “No bra.. did you plan on teasing Jungkook tonight?”

You shake your head. This side of him was so new.. and you wanted more.

He wasn’t obnoxious like this. Instead, he knew exactly what he wanted.

“Turn around.” He orders. So you do. “And try not to move.”

He slips the dress straps down till it was low enough to expose your breasts but trap your arms and keep them from moving. 

First it was a kiss to your lips, then down your neck, and finally to hover over your right breast, his thumb swirling over your other nipple before pulling the neglected one into his mouth.

“You have a lot of sex..” You mutter, suddenly realizing that he was going to go further with you. Way further. And by the looks of it, he was very experienced.

“But never with you baby..” He assures. And just like that, you were putty in his hands again.

Maybe he said that to everyone, but right now, there was no one here but you. 

He lays you back against the mattress, leaning over you to kiss your neglected lips. 

Everything about Jimin reminded you of the ocean. He would push against you and pull away like the tide.

Finally, he completely strips you of your dress and panties, pulling them the rest of the way off and throwing them aside. “You look even better than I imagined.” He sighs and runs a hand all the way up from your stomach to caress your arching neck. His strong hands felt nice against you.

Then he pulls a condom from his pocket and holds it up between two fingers, dropping it onto your stomach.

“Your turn sweetheart.” He smirks, before falling down onto the bed beside you with a grin. 

Jimin was really good at looking really innocent. When you sit up, he smiles up at you like he hadn’t just deprived you of the perfect orgasm and then some. “Don’t be shy.” He urges. 

It was like your usual bickering, but all the more intense. It was like after hating Jimin for so long, this was the perfect way to relieve stress. Not only that, but he was the first to give in

He wouldn’t have to tell you twice. The rest would be up to you.

You take the condom and put it between your teeth, tugging Jimin’s pants right off. 

He was left straining against his boxers and you revel in the victory of him already being this hard.

Instead of stripping him naked you get a better idea, rubbing him through the coarse fabric and living for the way he bit down on his lower lip, pushing up against your hand.

Then you tease him by straddling his waist with the condom still between your teeth, hovering just above his hard on.

One of his hands slowly trails up your leg.

“No.” You shove it away. “No touching.” You grin, then move your hips in a slow circle, grinding on him for just a second before quickly lifting yourself back up.

He moans, biting down on his lip. “I didn’t think you’d be so good at this..”


“Making me miserable.”

You roll your hips over him again and hold back a moan of your own. “Beg for it.”

He huffs, “I don’t beg for anything.”

So you push yourself back down onto him and grind, his dick rock hard beneath you. 

You pull the condom from your mouth and press it to his lips. “Really? You want to cum like this then?” You tease, grinding on him over the fabric, making you feel better than you thought it would. “Because I wouldn’t mind..” You mutter with a moan, throwing your head back and swaying.

“Fine.. shit!” He hisses through clenched teeth, “Ride me.”

You wait.

“Please?” He mutters reluctantly, a hand coming up to hold you at your waist. “Please, just fucking ride me..” He bucks you off him, ripping open the condom and shoving off his boxers.

“Why do you get an orgasm and get to take mine? I barely even teased you..” You slip a hand behind his neck to hold him closer. “How’s that fair?”

“How about this..” Jimin kisses you quickly to shut you up. “I promise you another one later. Whenever you want.” He mutters, pressing his tip against your entrance.

The thought of doing this again made you shiver.

“Okay..” You nod and with that he pushes into you, hard and fast. You were still getting used to his size when he thrusts in deeper. You arch, unknowingly running your nails down his muscular back.

“Are you okay?” He grunts against your shoulder.

You’d had sex before but this was on an entirely different level. Jimin knew how to move and what places to reach. He knew just where to touch you and just how to tease you. 

He was experienced.

You, weren’t on the other hand, acting on instinct alone.

So you nod, closing your eyes. 

He was just bigger than you’d been expecting. “Faster.” You sigh when he slows down for the sake of you. It’s not like you couldn’t handle it.

Your legs wrap around his strong waist, his moist forehead pressing against yours for the last time tonight. For sure this one would be the last. It was late and he was tired now too.

You could feel the sweat beneath his palm as he ran a hand up your side. Both of you had been going for a while now.

Finally he puts out and collapses against you, his mouth falling open and your name leaving his lips in a whimper..

“That was.. way better than I thought it would be.” He mutters.

You roll your eyes, too fucked out to comment, then gasp. “What about.. Jungkook?”

“It’s fine. This can be our little secret.” He grins, pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek.

You didn’t even want to date Jungkook. He was a great guy, just.. not your type. But clearly, Jimin still expected you to.

Sure enough, two days later and Jimin stood waiting outside your classroom, except he wasn’t alone. And as you approach, Jimin whispers something to Taehyung that makes him leave. You hadn’t spoken to him since that night.. thankfully. But now you’d have to. 

Your steps grow hesitant as you near him.

“Hey.” He nods, clutching his backpack strap.

Its not like you were avoiding him, he was just always the one to find you first. And after that day, he stopped trying. Mission accomplished, right? You finally went on the date.

Were you disappointed? A little. You tried not to show it.


He bit down on his lower lip. “There’s this party..” He starts, glancing over your shoulder. “It’s family stuff. And Jungkook wanted me to ask if you’d be his date.”

“He’s watching us, isn’t he?”

Jimin nods, fakely smiling down at you. 

You close your eyes. “And if I say no?”

“You can’t, you have no choice.” He shrugs.

“What? Jimin, no, I really don’t want to go.”

“I was asking you for show. You’re going. Good luck.” He grins, patting your shoulder and taking off down the hallway to meet up with Jungkook.

You should have seen that one coming. You shouldn’t have looked back at him as he gave Jungkook the ‘good news’, but you do, and he catches your eye, smiling at you from across the hall.

You try to be angry, but his smile was so damn bright and beautiful that you turn and leave instead.

Maybe he really did want you two together.. You could never tell with Jimin.

The next day, there was a box in your locker.

Your lift the top to find a pair of expensive heels and a dress.


You run your fingers over the fine fabric.

Were people staring? You close the box and sigh, shutting your locker and carrying it home.

□ How did you get into my locker?

■ You’d be surprised. A little money goes a long way.

You roll your eyes.

You had tried to talk to Jimin about not going before today, but he wasn’t having it. Twice he walked away from you with a shake of his head before you could even mention it.

This was stressful. You considered going straight to Jungkook but.. you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

Hair up? Hair down? You put it half up instead and huff at the hair that wouldn’t stay in place. 

Ok. You look over at your reflection, finally slipping on the heels.

The dress was beautiful, but it wasn’t you

This was all just a game gone too far. You didn’t enjoy leading on Jungkook or playing this weird ‘it never happened’ game with Jimin. It made you sick. And as nice as you looked tonight.. you didn’t want to go.

Suddenly your phone screen lights up by your purse and you reach over to check it.

A single message from Jimin.

■ Leave your panties at home. Tonight will be fun.

anonymous asked:

I am honestly surprised that there's no asks about yandere Knockout yet. And I know the requests are closed so I'm just gonna ask what kind of yanderes you think/feel/can imagine that he and the rest of the TFP cons would be? But if this is too much like a request then I'll just ask again when it's an option~

Oh boy!  XD  I’ve been thinking about this a lot, because there are so many different angles to explore with Knock Out.  This is sort of a pre-yandere scenario.  I might do a follow up to this if there’s any interest.  I’ll just focus on him for now so that this post doesn’t get out of control.

Knock Out prides himself on his impeccable finish more than anything, but with Breakdown busy with so many field missions lately, buffing has become an absolute nightmare.  So much so that he’s forced to settle for one of those horridly gauche little human run car washes if he wants a decent wax job.  He rolls into a shabby little run-down place on the outskirts of town, hoping to not draw attention to himself, and honks his horn irritably to get someone’s attention.

You nearly stumble out the door, half startled-half irritated at his apparent rudeness, but Knock Out can’t be bothered to care about appealing to useless human sensibilities.  “Full wash and wax” he says in a clipped tone through his speakers, keeping the mirrored windows rolled up to disguise the lack of a driver.  You grumble under your breath about rude rich assholes and their pretentious cars, but you go and grab the supply cart anyway.  If only you didn’t need this job so badly…

Knock Out inwardly smirks as you start filling up a bucket with soapy water.  How quaint.  It’s almost as if- ooohhhhh…  His thoughts are immediately cut off as you begin running the warm, wet cloth over his hood.  He has to physically stop himself from letting out a loud moan as your nimble, delicate hands run sensually over his frame, massaging the metal in slow, circular motions.  You spare no part of him your attention as you thoroughly rub him down from chassis to rims.  He’s barely holding himself together.  Primus, this is torture!  Sweet, exquisite torture!  He can’t even form coherent thoughts anymore.  It takes every single ounce of willpower in him to keep his cooling fans from kicking on as you start applying the wax to his freshly washed finish. 

You hum quietly to yourself as you work, thinking that the person in the car wouldn’t be able to hear you.  It catches him by surprise for a moment, before he finds himself listening to you, entranced.  Such a sweet voice.  And such gentle hands.  In fact, now that he takes a closer look, you’re all together quite lovely for a human.  He’ll definitely have to come back here sometime in the near future.

Back on board the Nemesis, Knock Out regales Breakdown with the details of his encounter.  “Oh, you should have been there Breakdown!  They reached places I didn’t even know existed!  Primus, but that human is a miracle worker!  Pretty too.  I’ll have to take you with me next time.  They did give me a coupon.”  Breakdown laughs.  “Maybe you should just bring them here and then you’d never have to leave the ship for a full massage ever again!”  Knock Out laughs with him at the time, but he finds himself repeating Breakdown’s words over and over to himself as the days go by until it’s all he can think about.  

Pretty soon his thoughts go from “what if’s” to “how to’s”.  Thoughts of your sensual touches and your soothing voice slowly consume his processor as he drifts off into recharge every night.  He imagines what it would be like to have you there with him, kneading his sensitive neck cables and singing him softly to sleep in that beautiful, angelic voice of yours.   And someday very soon, he’ll no longer have to only imagine it…

Second Chances 1: Homecoming

Sam returns to a town he thought was long behind him and the past pays him a visit.

Characters: Sam, Reader, OC Peggy

Warnings: None

Word Count: 4,161

A/N: Part 1 of my new Sam series. I actually started writing this before I knew of Tumblr and fanfiction. This is gonna be a massive story. Thanks for joining me on this adventure! Shout out to @oneshoeshort for being an amazing beta and being patient with me!

Series Masterlist

Feedback is appreciated. I am DYING to hear your opinions! : )

Sam drove in the Impala, speeding down the roads going nowhere. After winning the battle over the Leviathan, Dick Roman, and losing Dean and Castiel, Sam felt lost. What would he do now? Where would he go? He drove down back roads from state to state, stopping in small towns for food and rest, never staying for long. Where did he belong? What was his purpose now that he had nothing?

The sun began to sink in the distance, the sky became painted with warm pink, orange, and purple. Sam yawned, watching the road before him seemingly unfolding forever. He glanced at the sign along the road: COEUR D'ALENE 5 MI. Suddenly, his eyes opened wide. Many years before, in what seemed a different life, Sam had lived in Coeur D'Alene, Idaho. His father and brother were off hunting and had left Sam, at the age of seventeen, to live with a friend of John’s in Coeur D'Alene. It was the happiest he ever remembered being. Although he was there for only eight months, a summer and half of his senior year of high school, he lived a normal life, away from hunting, away from the life he had lived up to that point…and since.

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Pairing: King George III x reader

Prompt: Could u do a King G x Reader where George is this super snobby, rude, rich guy so no one really likes him but reader is very nice and friendly to him and he gets a crush on them because he’s used to people being suck ups or hating him. Thank you!

TW: Implied intentions of assault

Word Count: 2466


George King was someone who liked the finer things. And that came as no surprise to anyone, because it was no secret that his mother and his father were both extremely successful in their fields. That meant anything he wanted, he got, with little to no fuss. But this meant he constantly had leeches on him.

Hanging from wherever they could sink their teeth into him, getting rid of them was near impossible if one had any sense of pity. You steel yourself. You push people away because the only reason they’re speaking to you is because they want something from you. He learned that early, and better than most.

He grew up with most people calling him a spoiled brat and, while they weren’t technically wrong, hearing it so many times led him to realize, he couldn’t remember how much if this personality had actually been his, and how much had been one he created to protect himself. The two had fused together, and made an ugly hybrid. Someone who legitimately wanted companionship, and someone who pushed away anyone that got near.

He had one friend, in all his years. Just one friend that didn’t grab onto him and try to use him. That was Samuel, a kid he met when he was in Elementary school, and when he was still fairly optimistic about people.

Samuel’s father had just passed away, and his mother would read him bible passages at night to make him feel at least a bit better. It was the middle of fourth grade, and he’d been gone for a week following his father’s funeral, only to return a lot quieter, and always with his little bible in his bag. He actually talked to Samuel for the first time on a chilly October morning, turning their PE time. He had opted for sitting down, and reading, instead of playing with the other kids. And, of course, that made him an easy target. Some of the fifth graders took his book, made him jump for it, because he hadn’t hit his growth spurt yet. Luckily, George had.

He fumed, leaving his own place where he’d been in time out for ‘talking back to the teacher.’ She just didn’t like him, that was all. George walked straight up to the fifth grader, whom he was already a bit taller than, and plucked the book from his hand unceremoniously, before turning his back on them, and giving it back to Samuel.

Well then, the fifth grader hit him. Not extremely hard, more to get his attention, but he fell over, and started wailing, holding his side as his eyes blurred with fake tears. Three teachers swooped down on in and instant, taking the crying George to the nurse’s office, and the fifth graders to the office. When he was sure they were looking, and the teachers couldn’t see, he shot a smirk over his shoulder.

He got away with it, too, thanks to Samuel. The kid said that the fifth grader had punched him, and of course, when he brought up the part of taking his book, there was no hope for the others.

He and Sam had been partners in crime ever since. But now they were in college. Problems weren’t so easily solved by falling over and pretending to cry, because most students had a breakdown similar on a biweekly basis.

No, currently, he was leaving his drama class for the day, filing out with all of the other students, and looking at his phone for anything he missed. Not much.

“Uh…excuse me?” he glanced up at the voice beside him, turning his head to see you, where you’d just left the same class as him. When he finally acknowledged you, you gave a smile. “You’re George, right?”

“Yes. Why?” He’d had people come up to him like this before, so he was more than a little wary.

“Oh, well, I’m (Y/N)? The other group member for the project.” you offered a smile, but let it falter a little bit with the he was looking down his nose at you.

“Ah. Right.” He shook his head a bit. “Look, Samuel and I can handle it. Don’t bother.”

“Oh! But…that’s the thing! Have some ideas for the medley! Maybe using songs from Spring Awakening?” You reclaimed your beam, looking up to him as he looked surprised. How had you guessed the same idea as him…? “Could I get your number? I have Samuel’s already, since he’s in a different class with me.”

George looked skeptical, but nodded, taking your phone and putting his number in it. He was quiet the entire time he did that, and you sent him a text, just to be sure it worked.

Even your text was cheery.

“Now that that’s done,” he huffed as though this was an annoyance. “Is there anything else?”

“Uh…no, I don’t think so. We can meet up somewhere to work on this later.” You promised, taking him, and hiking your backpack higher in your back. “I’ll talk with you soon, George!!” You had to hurry to your next class, but you didn’t mind. You stopped to grab a granola bar, then slid into the room, and into a seat for the lecture that day. A few moments later, before the class started, your pocket buzzed, and you checked it with a small smile.

George K: What was your name again?

‘(Y/N). We should add Sam in if we’re going to make plans about meeting up’

George K: I wanted to get to know you some first.

‘Oh okay. Shoot. What did you want to know?’

George K: What year are you?


George K: What do your parents do?

You wrinkled your nose a bit, but figured the question was innocent. ‘My mom works in medical care, my dad was in the military. I got in on mostly scholarships. What do yours do?’

George K: My mother works in theater, my father does too. My mother recently finished a run on broadway.

He sent the message. This was a little test. You’d no doubt start trying to ask for tickets, or to meet them. They all did. This would determine if he talked to you again.

‘Oh! That’s cool!! I want to work on broadway someday.’

Huh. Oh, another message from you.

‘What is it you want to go into?’

The conversation kept going, even through your lecture. You couldn’t help it, you actually really liked talking to him…even if it took you a little bit to realize that he used sarcasm a lot, even in his texts, which meant it was sometimes hard to discern from the rest of the message.

You made a group with Samuel, agreeing to meet tomorrow afternoon, to talk about the project. You had a good feeling about this…


The project came, and went, but your talks with George and Samuel didn’t.

The three of you had a good time, working on the project and getting closer, and even when it was over,  you didn’t let them drift away from you.

George, on the other hand, was still wary of making this new friend. No, it was more than that.

He was scared he’d get attached, and you’d leave him behind. It’d happened before. And, damn, if he wasn’t already really attached. More than attached, he loved you…your smile, your laugh…his heart sped up around you, even at the sound of the little ringtone you insisted on giving yourself and your text messages.

He was currently staring at where he’d sent you a text, and was waiting with bated breath for your reply.

Georgie: Can I meet you somewhere?

‘Sure! I just got off work, wanna meet me here?’

Georgie: Don’t you work at Chuck E. Cheese?


Georgie: No thanks. I don’t do screaming kids.

‘Uhhhhh how about the little pizza place across the street? I don’t have a car right now, so, if you could drive me home too I’d really appreciate it.’

He didn’t answer that one, aside from a small



You looked at your phone with a small smile, before grabbing your bag from the table in the breakroom to make your way out the door, saying goodbye to a few people here and there.

“(Y/N), wait!” You were just about to clock out when your manager, Justin, who was a very tall, thin guy, only about a year or two older than you, asked you to stop. “I’m so, so sorry to stop you, but is there anyway you could stay? Just an hour or two more? It’s Saturday, and we’re swamped.” He huffed, obviously worn out.

You thought about it for a second, looking at your bag where you knew your phone was. George would be waiting on you…but…ugh, you couldn’t just leave your coworkers hanging! You knew you hated it when things like that happened to you.

“…Okay, what do you need?”


Almost immediately after that, you were pushed into a birthday party, meaning you were so swamped, you couldn’t even reach for your phone. Twenty screeching kids, asking where Chuck E was, if they could have cake now, why was the food taking so long?

You liked kids, but this made you reconsider.

Two hours later, now around seven, you were finally off, and tired as hell. You walked across the street, on the long shot that George was still there. He wasn’t. You took out your phone, and sighed at seeing all of the missed texts, all of them getting more upset and worried as they went on. And the last one made your heart break.

Georgie: If you didn’t want to really talk to me, you could have said so. I wanted to ask you out on a date, and I don’t know if you were avoiding that question, or avoiding me, but I don’t appreciate being yanked around on a string for two hours, (Y/N). I’m going home.

He’d let down all of his walls around you, one at a time. And they were all back up again. All the progress you made was destroyed…and it was your fault. It was getting dark out now, but you lingered in the light coming from your work, calling George and praying he would pick up.

He didn’t.

You didn’t blame him…but you sent him a text anyway.

‘I’m so, so sorry, they asked me to stay because they were understaffed. I’m about to walk home now, so, I’ll call you when I get home…I want to take you up on that date offer, if it still stands.’

You took a deep breath, grabbing your keys in a defensive position, ready to strike if anyone approached you, while you left the safety of the neon lit restaurant.

The way to your apartment complex was dark. It had a few street lamps, yes, but they were spaced too far apart to ever be of much merit. You swallowed, still holding your keys at the ready. You heard footsteps behind you.

As you sped up, so did they, but you were too scared to ever look over your shoulder, and see just what they looked like. You could hear them getting closer, and, just when you thought you could feel their breath on your neck, you broke into a run, able to see your apartment complex just up ahead. You arm was firmly grabbed, and you were yanked back, your keys falling from your hand and clattering to the pavement. You kicked and screamed as the man turned you to face him, a pale, greasy face, with an untrimmed beard, and ratty hair. He had one of your arms in a vice, but the other one was still flailing, before you got a hold of yourself, and swiftly landed an uppercut to his jaw.

In shock he released you, and you fell to the pavement, scrambling yourself up and grabbing your keys before running for the light and safety of your home.


Once inside the door, you slammed it, and slowly slid down against the smooth, painted surface, tears filling your eyes as the adrenaline ran off. You pulled your hand from your pocket with your phone, shakily dialing George’s number.

You started hoping he even wanted to talk to you, because you really needed someone to listen to you right then.

“This had bette-”

“George I just…I just…” You started breaking down before you could even get the words out, hearing his end of the phone go quiet. He’d never heard you cry. You always seemed to find some sort of light in any situation but now…you could find none.  “A man just…attacked me on my way home…I-I’m okay…he didn’t hurt me but…I was so, so scared…”

“(Y/N),” He’d never realized just how hard the sound of sobbing could hit him. “Don’t move. I’m coming over there, now.” He promised. Before you could say anything, the phone disconnected, and you were left holding your phone to your ear, after he’d already hung up.

In an autopilot state, you crawled over to the couch, leaving your backpack by the door, and wrapping yourself in a blanket. You just felt…so overwhelmed with the fear of what could have happened that everything felt hypersensitve. The material of the blanket had never seemed this soft, or this warm, before…the polo shirt you wore felt more uncomfortable than usual, and your face felt warm, and wet as tears began to dry on your cheeks. You jumped, just a little at every noise, and only perked up when you heard George at the door, letting himself in. He’d had a key for the past three weeks, and you never thought you’d really need him to use it, like he was now.

He scanned the living room for you, before seeing you where you were, curled up on the couch. He gave a sigh of relief, and closed the door behind him. He came to you, and held you…albeit a little awkwardly. He didn’t know how to comfort people…especially not the person he liked…but holding was all you needed right then. He pressed a kiss, hesitant, and waiting for you to push him away, to your temple. You didn’t move, just let him cradle you, and kiss your head, and try to make better what’d almost happened. There was no fixing it, just getting over it.

The two of you paused, and took a moment.

Your smile would come back fairly fast…eventually, he’d go back to his same sarcastic tone of voice, even with you. But when the both of you moved forward again

You did it together.


Why is it that my longest fic yet is for one of the least requested characters??? Seriously. Anyway!! I warned you guys!! This one is my longest FOR A REASON!!

Also yes I used to work at Chuck E Cheeses

Love, Rosalie

Bad Habit (M) Pt.4

Jimin x Reader

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 2+ | PART 3 | PART 4

Description: Jimin was just trying to help his friend get the girl. But then he felt himself wanting a lot more from you than he’d been expecting and you unknowingly wanted it too. It was all just for fun anyway, right? Until Jungkook’s feelings got involved.. and suddenly it wasn’t.

Tags: Rich kids, Rude JiminDom Jimin, rough smut, language. NEW TAGS. Jungkook smut MAYBE? Second lead syndrome too probably. oops.

A/N: When you have to change the tags. That's when you know shits about to go down.

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

Jimin texted you later that night to keep the clothes, but there was no way in hell that was happening. Not when everything put together cost more your apartment did. It’s not like you were ever going to wear any of it again anyway.

You took the clothes in a bag with you Monday and hand it to him by his locker. “Here.” You motion for him to take it.

“I told you to keep it.”

“It’s yours. I don’t want it.”

So he reluctantly takes it from you. “What am I supposed to with this? It’s woman’s clothes.”

“Sell them, return them, give them to someone else? I don't care.” You sigh and leave him there holding the bag in the crowded hallway.

The teacher calls your attention and everyone’s eyes turn to face you in the back. You were always asleep in this class,  but you’d never actually been caught. Until now.

“Sorry, what?”

“Front office.” She says with a shake of her head.

You stand, close your textbook, and leave the classroom. 

“Here.” The lady behind the desk mouths. She was on the phone, handing you a single, folded index card. 

Inside was what could only be Jimin's messy handwriting.

Under the bleachers by the football field. -J.

Did they call you out of class for this? You turn and crumble up the paper, shoving it deep inside your pocket.

Rich kids..

“Jimin.” You call. 

He stops pacing to look up at you. 


He runs a hand through his hair and turns away from you. “I fucked up.” He mutters. “Jungkook.. he keeps talking about you and every time he does, I feel like shit.

Jungkook. You’d almost forgotten about officially ended things with him, even if you two weren’t dating. You were too busy ending things with Jimin.

“I wanted to talk to you about.. what happened.”

You watch him silently. It’s not like there was anything left to talk about.. or anything you could do to change it. 

“-before I tell him.”

Oh, so he was finally feeling guilty about what happened? It was a little too late for that. Did he not realize that that’s how you’d been feeling for a while now?

“He actually likes you y/n. Like a lot. I figured his crush on you would go away but he keeps fucking talking about you.” He turns back to face you, terrified. “I don’t know what’s going to happen when I do, but I know that I need to tell him what happened between us and I wanted to let you know first that I can’t hide this from him. He’s my best friend and I knew he liked you.. and I had sex with you anyway.”

His eyes were really, truly terrified.. “Jimin, It’s going to rain.” You mutter, not knowing what to say to calm him down. He was so out of it.

“What if.. I tell him and it ruins our friendship? Hoseok knows, and god I wish he’d beat the shit out of me for it, but he wouldn’t. And I don’t know what I’ll do if Jungkook never talks to me again, but I can’t not tell him. He needs to know.”

Jimin was the type of guy to do something instinctively stupid and not think about the consequences. You saw that now. Not only that, but he thankfully did care about his friends. “I’ll tell him. It’s not like I was ever planning on dating him anyway.” You grab his hand and try to calm him down, realizing it was a bad idea. Too intimate. 

He looks down at you.

“I’ll tell him everything was my fault, and if he thinks I’m a slut later.. I’ll just deal with it.” You’d just have to play the bad guy to get him out of this situation. It was equally your fault and it’s not like you had as much to lose. They weren’t your friends. They’d hate you for a week and then get over it.  

“That’s not fair. This was my fault.”

At least he was owning up to it now. “It was both our faults, but this way you’ll get to keep your friendship and I’ll feel better about what happened.” You mutter. Your throat felt tight and your eyes burned, but you couldn’t let him know how much this hurt you. “Really, it’s no big deal.” But it was. It was like being used except you were offering. And thank god it was raining because even if you cried now he wouldn’t notice.

“You think I’d let you do that?“ He rolls his eyes.

You shrug.

“Because I wouldn’t.” 

He lets go of your hand, pulls your chin up and kisses you in the pouring rain.

Your hand goes up instinctively to cup his cheek and he sighs, pulling away with a shake of his head. 

Yeah, stupid idea. You just both needed the comfort.

“Let’s talk in my car and I’ll take you home.”

You both jog to his truck in the parking lot and he immediately turns on the heater.

“Why are you crying?” He starts the engine and looks over at you. You didn’t even think he’d notice.

“I don’t know. This is so messed up.” You wipe your face when he hands you a napkin but you were still soaking wet otherwise. “I mostly just feel really bad for Jungkook. And Hoseok. I can tell he cares a lot about him.”

“Hoseok cares a lot about everyone.”

You look out the window as he pulls out from the school parking lot. “I wish I could apologize.” You mutter. But the best thing for the both of them would be if you stayed out of it. Jungkook would eventually forgive Jimin and forget you even existed. You both went the rest of the car ride in silence.

“I’ll talk to him sometime this week. I’ll text you when I do, okay?”

You nod and get out of his truck, jogging to your apartment door as he drives off.

Jimin didn’t message you till Thursday night and you thankfully didn’t run into either of them the following day. Not until Jimin came by your locker after school. 

He slams it shut, making you jump. 

“Hey!” You glare up at him angrily before your eyes widen in shock. “Oh god.. your eye.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine..” You reach up to touch the bruising around his eye with a grimace, “It’s.. really gross actually. Wait.. Did Jungkook do this to you?

He shrugs with a nod.

“Oh my god.” You pull away, biting down anxiously on your lower lip.

“I didn’t think he’d get this mad.” He sighs, “But he was really mad.”

“You didn’t fight him, did you?”

“Are you kidding me? He’d kick my ass.”

You snicker, quickly bringing a hand up to cover your mouth.

“You think this is funny?”

“No.. kind of.” You mutter. He raises a brow and you grin. “Yes.”

He huffs, holding back a laugh. “Whatever. I guess I deserved it.”

“You guess.”

“Okay, yeah, I deserved it.”

There was harsh knocking at your door at nine in the morning. That was early as hell for a Saturday.

“What?” You stumble, forcing it open.

Jimin looks down at you angrily shoving a bag in your arms. 

Oh no.


You look down at the bag, already knowing what was inside.

“Hurry. I’ll explain in the car. You have ten minutes.

He shuts the door for you and you groan, pulling out the yellow sundress. Not again.