Summary: In a world where soulmates can share thoughts, you never imagined that the sweet voice in your head would belong to a guy like Jungkook.
Word count: 1.5k words
You dropped your backpack beside you, and it landed on the ground with a loud thunk. Sighing quietly, you collapsed onto a beanbag (because your university was trendy enough to have them in the library) and tried not to cry. Your body sank into the soft material of the beanbag, and you wished you could just disappear.
The sunlight streaming in from the window beside you doused you in warmth, and soon you felt yourself slipping into sleep.
“Rough day?” a voice rang through your head. Your lips quirked into a smile, your earlier hardships completely forgotten.
It was a rare moment when soulmates shared thoughts. No one really understood the science of soulmates–the mechanics of thought-sharing, in particular. It was just a universally accepted phenomenon, and you thought it was beautiful.
Yeah, you could say that, you thought, hoping your soulmate would be able to hear you. Sometimes, all you got was a passing thought, and sometimes you were able to have conversations. There was only one limitation–you could never share your identity.
Still, you tried and tried and tried. You couldn’t wait to meet your soulmate.
“What happened?” your soulmate asked, his sweet voice making you blush. You thought his voice was the most beautiful thing you had ever heard, and you wondered if the boy was just as beautiful.
Just…life. University’s hard, you know? you replied. The little information you knew about your soulmate was this: he was around your age, also in university, studying music and dance, liked anime, exercised a lot.
“Trust me, I feel that,” came his response, and it sounded almost amused. “But you’ll be okay.”
For the next few minutes, you tried to think of something to ask him. You hoped he couldn’t hear your embarrassing thoughts. His thoughts were silent too, and you knew the connection had been lost.
Smiling sadly, you stood up and grabbed your bag. Your encounter with your soulmate, however brief, was enough to energize you. Ready to face the rest of the day, you walked out of the library. Your thoughts lingered back to your soulmate, and you wondered if he was thinking about you, too.
Your phone blared loudly, and you startled awake. Still disoriented, your heart thumped wildly as you searched blindly for your phone. Finally, you located it on your nightstand. Squinting at the bright screen, you saw that you had an incoming call from your roommate.
“Hello?” you mumbled, pressing your phone to the side of your face.
“Oh, shit, did I wake you up?” Jieun exclaimed, her excited voice too loud so early in the morning. “Well, since you’re up, we can talk! Y/N, you’ll never guess what just happened.”
You sighed, flopping back onto your bed. “So tell me,” you said blandly.
“You’re no fun,” Jieun pouted. “Okay! So. I just slept with Jungkook! Let me tell you, the rumours are true. He’s great in bed and he does this thing–”
“Wow! Cool!” you squeaked, quickly cutting her off. You did not need to know about Jieun–or Jungkook’s–sex life. “Is that a good idea, though? I know you’re low-key crushing on him, but Jungkook doesn’t do relationships, right?”
“I don’t know, Jieun,” you replied slowly. “Be careful, because with a guy like Jungkook, you’re only gonna get hurt.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she snorted. You could hear rustling in the background as Jieun moved. “He’s a major fuckboy. I’m trying not to catch feelings, but he’s so damn hot.”
You grunted in agreement.
“Oh, Y/N, can you do me a favour?” Jieun asked suddenly. “I’m going straight to school from Jungkook’s flat. Could you bring me a change of clothes and, like, mouthwash or something?”
“Yeah, sure,” you yawned, getting up to go to Jieun’s room. “I’ll be at school in like an hour. Should I just meet you in the music building?”
Jieun was majoring in music, since she was such a great singer.
“Yep!” she chirped. “Thank you so much, Y/N. You’re the bestest friend ever!”
You walked aimlessly through the music building, a bag full of clothes and toiletries on your back, as you searched for the room number Jieun had sent you earlier. It was a practice room, and the hall you were moving through seemed endless.
In the distance, you could hear the sound of someone singing. As you continued forwards, the voice became clearer and clearer. The person had a beautiful voice. It was clear and melodious, floating softly through the air.
It tugged at the back of your mind, like a faint memory. It was almost like a weird sense of deja vu, and you struggled to recall why.
Then–it hit you.
This was the voice you had been hearing in your head your entire life–the one you had listen to transform over the years. Your soulmate was here.
Your heart thundered in your chest as you practically ran, following the sound of your soulmate’s beautiful voice. It led you to a door that was slightly ajar. Your soulmate was still singing, completely unaware that you were just outside the room, listening.
For a moment, you stopped, not entirely sure if you were ready to meet your soulmate. It was supposed to be the most beautiful moment in life, and it felt strange that your meeting wasn’t going to be spontaneous.
Still, your curiosity got the better of you. You peered through the crack in the doorway, searching for the owner of the voice.
Before you, Jungkook stood. His profile was facing you, the light from the window behind him highlighting his features. Jungkook was beautiful.
Then, you turned away. You could feel your heart breaking already. A guy like Jungkook didn’t believe in soulmates, if his sexual escapades were any indication.
So you left, locating Jieun’s practice room and placing the bag in front of it. As quickly as you had come, you exited the building, headed towards the library to drown yourself in work. You wanted to forget–forget who he was, forget about soulmates, forget about the future you had hoped for.
“Are you okay?” Jungkook’s voice suddenly spoke, clear in your mind.
You pushed his thoughts away, keeping your mind blank as possible as you hurried through the quad with your head cast down. You didn’t want to indulge in something you could never truly have.
You spent the entire day in the library, alternating between working and staring blankly at the textbooks in front of you. You had forgotten to eat that day, so when you finally staggered out of the library, you were exhausted and hungry. The walk home was quiet. The sun had set a long time ago, although you weren’t entirely sure what time it was.
Once you reached your apartment, you were surprised to find the front door unlocked. You and Jieun didn’t live in the best part of town, so you were always sure to lock the door whenever you came and went.
You turned the knob, and the door creaked as it opened. As you stepped through the threshold, you stumbled over a pair of shoes that were haphazardly strewn on the ground.
“Y/N!” Jieun exclaimed in surprise, sounding breathless.
At that, you looked up.
In front of you, Jieun was pressed against the wall, shirtless, as some guy was leaning over her, his lips attached to her neck. The guy turned towards you once he noticed Jieun’s stillness.
It was Jungkook.
“Oh my god, Y/N! I’m so sorry,” Jieun rambled, pushing Jungkook off her as she reached down to grab her shirt that had been discarded. “I thought you weren’t coming home tonight, since you were so late!”
“D-don’t worry,” you stammered, your voice wavering. You kept your eyes on Jieun, trying not to look at Jungkook. You could feel his heavy gaze on you. “I can stay with Rose or something, it’s not a problem. I’ll j-just leave–”
Suddenly, Jungkook was in front of you, pushing you backwards until your back hit the wall. His face was morphed into shock, even awe, before he schooled his features back into indifference. Jungkook peered over you, his large frame blocking your line of vision. You were forced to look at him, and his eyes were burning into you yours.
“You’re my soulmate!?” he demanded, his normally sweet voice rumbling. The person he was in your mind was completely different than the boy who stood in front of you. “Answer me!”
“Yes,” you whispered, your voice faltering. You continued, your voice stronger, “I am.”
“Fuck,” Jungkook spat, leaning back. He stepped away from you, returning to the front door where he slipped into his shoes. Jungkook turned back to you, and when he spoke, his voice was cold. “I’m not the guy I pretend to be. So do us both a favour and stay the fuck away. Forget this every happened.”
With that, Jungkook exited the apartment, slamming the door behind him. You stood, back still against the wall. You could hear Jieun talking to you, but she sounded far away. But for the first time, your mind was completely blank.
You decided you hated the silence.
- Girl in Luv
Thanks for reading! I think I’ll continue this story…I hate sad endings. When I first imagined this story, it seemed like it could be a longer piece? Maybe I’ll rewrite it or make it a chaptered thing…what do you guys think?
This is the first half of a Zimbits soulmate AU, where you can feel the pull of your soulmate like a compass. This is a first draft, so no corrections have been made so far. I just wanted to throw it out there. There will be a second and final part to this- and I’ll do my best to write it soon.
Dear Mama and Coach,
I’m sorry to leave with only a note, but this is something I have to do. I left for my pilgrimage. I know I’m way too young, but I couldn’t wait. … I think my soulmate is dying. I felt the pull stop for a full minute. It never happened before. I can’t wait another four years before seeking them! I hope you understand.
Also, I didn’t tell y’all because… I think my soulmate may be a man.
I hope you’re not too mad at me. I’ll call.
I love you both,
North. The pull had always pointed North. Sometimes, when Eric changed cities, he tried to triangulate the feel, but there was never enough difference in what he felt to pinpoint a precise location on a map. His soulmate could be in any of the states above Georgia, or- well, they could live further North. He wondered what would be worse for his parents, that his soulmate was a man, or that he was a Yankee.
He’d stressed about it for years but, now that he was stuck on a bus for who knew how long, he couldn’t stop worrying. He fidgeted with the cheap pilgrimage kit he’d bought at Atlanta. A map of the United States, a plastic ruler, a tiny pencil and a miserable looking compass that didn’t seem to point in the same direction if he shook it a bit. It was all he could afford, since the bus ticket from Madison to Atlanta, then Atlanta to… wherever, took most of his “borrowed” money.
That was another thing. His parents would be so mad when they noticed he took from his savings account. That money was supposed to go to his skating class- or more recently, his hockey equipment.
Maybe he could have asked. Maybe they’d understood, and offered more, and Coach would have lent him his own brass compass, the one inherited from his own father, the one he used to follow the pull until he found his own soulmate. Maybe his mother would have kissed him on the forehead and maybe she’d have offered to ride with him wherever the pull led him- North, North, always North…
But maybe not.
It wasn’t something Eric wanted to risk. The steadiness of the pull had stopped, for just a minute, maybe more, but that was enough to change Eric’s own life. He had someone, somewhere, whose soul was compatible with his- who was maybe a lover, a friend- and that someone’s life had blinked.
He held back his nervous tears, fidgeted with the compass once more.
Hey, could you do a story where the reader (who doesn’t really know Peter but maybe they go to the same school?) finds one of Peter’s backpacks that he left behind and tries to find him to give it back to him? And maybe that happens more than one time and reader tries to solve this backpack mystery? Hope you can work with this messy idea, your blog’s name somehow gave me the idea.
a/n - this idea made me so happy!!!! (for obvious reasons LMAO) i tried to show his more dorky side in this fic and i’m sorry if it failed, but don’t forget to request a peter parker/spider-man fic if you’d like and follow!
I was walking down 53rd street, headphones in and heading home straight from work. I decided to take the short way home through a small alleyway, but was stopped when I almost tripped over something.
“What the hell-” I thought to myself, looking down to see a small backpack. It seemed as if it was left here since the sun was going down and everyone was starting to head home for the day. My eyes then caught onto the zipper was broken from the side down.
“Parker.” I huffed in my mind, recognizing the faulty zipper. This had marked the third time that I’ve found his backpack within the last month. Peter and I had never spoken to one another outside of Chemistry, and I never understood why he would be rushing out of school so quickly. Every time I found his backpack it would also be in the same place too, which I found odd.
I zipped his backpack up and looked at the tag on one of its straps.
“20 Ingram Street.” I typed into my phone, slinging the backpack around my shoulder and following the directions that radiated off of the screen, luckily not being longer than a 10 minute walk.
;summary — working the graveyard shift means you’re exhausted by the time 9am comes around. lucky for you, 9am happens to be your neighbors’ favorite time for obnoxious sex. lucky for them, you’re always up for a challenge. shitty neighbors don’t always have to be a bad thing.
;warnings — language | mild unintentional voyeurism/mentions of exhibitionism | slight instances of jealousy | unprotected sex | oral sex | face-sitting | mentions of masturbation | very mild cumplay | soft dom/sub tones
;word count — 11k
;a/n — this wasn’t the hoseok story i originally wanted to post this week but this idea really excited me. happy hixtape season, everyone!
Let me know if I should make a part two to this :)
Everyone gets that feeling when they feel that someone is watching them. Monitoring everything they do. Stalking them.
That’s how you felt almost everyday. It was as if someone was actually watching you. Or spying on you.
You began to think like this since you were little. About 10 years old. Whenever you were somewhere, you felt a presence, even when you were alone. It was like someone was always there with you. It started off simple, but got worse and creepier as you grew older.
When you were 13, you couldn’t stand being home alone, because you always felt that someone was going to come for you. You would hear strange noises such as people talking when you were home alone, cabinets closing on their own, footsteps when no one else was home.
By age 15, you watched a lot of horror movies, and deemed your experiences as “being haunted.” You were sure that you were being haunted by a ghost, or something like a ghost. There were no other explanations for the things that’s been happening to you.
You told your friends and your parents, but no one believed you. Everyone thought you were either joking, or just crazy.
When you were 16, you asked your parents to get paranormal experts to come to your house and see what was going on. Your parents were reluctant at first, telling you that maybe a therapist should come to the house instead. But you kept asking them, telling them that you were so scared that something might happen to you. And then they finally called the experts.
When they came, the concluded that there was nothing paranormal going on inside of your house, giving your parents another reason not believe anything you said.
Even though the “experts” said that there was nothing, you knew there was something. You always knew that there was something going on. You weren’t crazy, no matter how much people tell you that you are.
You will never forget about when you were 18. You were almost finished with school. You remember sitting in an empty classroom one day during your free period. You studied for a huge test that you had to take.
The room was quiet at first, but then you heard a quiet tap on the window. You didn’t think much of it, thinking that it was probably just a tree branch or something.
Then it happened again. And again. And again. This continued for about two minutes before it started upsetting you. You groaned and tried to concentrate on studying. Once you groaned, the sound stopped. It was probably just a coincidence.
It didn’t stop there. You heard something fall down. It was a light sound, but you still heard it. You looked around the room to see what it was. There was a piece of chalk rolling towards you.
You raised and eyebrow. How did the chalk fall if nothing was touching it?
You stood up, picking up the piece of chalk that had fallen. You walked to the chalk board and placed the piece of chalk onto the teacher’s desk.
You turned around, dusted your hands off and started walking back to your seat.
And that’s when you heard it. The sound of the chalk falling again. You thought nothing of it. The teachers desk was probably just slanted, which is why the chalk keeps falling off. But why didn’t anything else on the desk fall off?
You turned around, bending down to pick up the chalk once again. You stood up, holding the piece of white chalk and as you looked up, you saw something strange.
The chalkboard had something written on it.
“Specto tu. Protinus te videre, XXI.”
Those words were not on the board before. How did it get there? Who wrote it? What the hell did it even say?
You thanked god for modern technology as you took out your cellphone and took a picture of the words written on the chalkboard. You put the picture into a translator website and waited for it to do its magic.
As the page loaded, you read what the words had translated to.
“I’m watching you. See you soon, 21.”
If you weren’t already creeped out before, you were ten times more creeped out now.
Without even thinking about it, you packed up your books and left the room, not looking back.
Who wrote that? Who’s watching you?
The answers to you questions went unanswered for years after that. You were always so curious.
You were 20 years old when you moved out of your parents house and into your own apartment.
The strange things never stopped. On multiple occasions when you would walk into your apartment, you would see lights that were turned on (and you were sure that you had turned them off), cabinets were open, loose papers were scattered all over your desk. You were a very clean and organized person, so you knew that it couldn’t have been you.
Getting a surveillance camera installed in your house didn’t help, as much as you really wanted it to. It just gave you more reason to believe your 15 year old self when you said that something paranormal was going on.
When you got home from work, you would check your camera, seeing if anything happened.
Of course something happened.
The cabinets opened—by themselves. The drawers in your desk opened and papers flew out of them, creating a big mess. The light switched flicked on, on their own.
You were terrified. Something was haunting you and you wanted to know why.
Today was your 21st birthday.
You spent the day shopping with your friends. You weren’t really a party girl, so you decided to do something less wild and more fun. Shopping is always fun.
“This would look really nice on you, y/n!” One of your friends smiled, giving you a cute pink dress that she had picked up.
It was cute, but it wasn’t really your style, so you put it back as you friend walked to go look at other clothes. After returning the dress to the rack that it had previously been on, you turned around, only to bump into someone.
“I’m so sorry.” You apologized. It was a man. He had jet black hair and dark brown eyes. He was quite handsome.
“Don’t be sorry. It was my fault.” He says, patting his clothes as he stood in front of you.
You two stood there, just looking at each other for a couple of seconds. He stared into your eyes. It was like he could see right through your soul. You couldn’t look away. It was like you were dazed.
“Y/n, come on. Let’s go to another shop.” Your friend calls. You blinked a few times, snapping out of your daze.
You walked away from the man, following as your friends walked out of the shop.
He seemed so familiar, but you were sure you hadn’t seen him before. You’d never seen him in real life, or even pictures, so why did he seem familiar?
You closed the door of your apartment and took your shoes off, placing them beside the door.
You and your friends had a good time out, shopping, eating and gossiping. It was like you were in high school all over again. You missed hanging out with them all the time.
You plopped down on the couch, grabbing the tv remote and pressing the button to turn it on.
You pressed the button, but nothing happened. You pressed it over and over again, but nothing. Maybe the batteries were out?
Just then, you felt something brush past your leg. Without thinking, you yelped and placed your feet on the couch, looking down at what had touched you.
It was a cat.
What was a cat doing in your apartment?
The cat looked up at you. It had black fur and brown eyes.
“What are you doing in here?” You asked the cat, as if it would talk back. You stood up, still looking down at the cat.
“I should get you out of here. Your owner is probably looking for you.” You say, putting your arms out, but then retracting them, not knowing if you should touch the cat.
Suddenly, something happened. You weren’t sure what it was exactly, but all you saw was a flash of white and then something stood in front of you. It wasn’t the cat.
It was a man.
You screamed and ran into your bedroom, scared for your life. You didn’t bother to look at the man, you were too terrified.
You closed your bedroom door as you entered, locking it.
What the hell just happened?
“Y/n.” You heard a voice say. The voice was kind of deep. You were too scared to reply. How did he even know your name?
“Y/n, I hope you know that locking the door isn’t going to stop me from coming in.” The man says.
You stayed silent. You didn’t know what to say. What were you supposed to say?
You heard no more noise on the other side of the door, but you were still scared.
Then, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You didn’t want to turn around, but your feet had it’s own plans.
You turned around, coming face to face with—
The man from earlier. The one from the shop. The one that you bumped into.
Your eyes widened.
You backed up, hoping that you could run away, but for every step you took back, he took a step towards you.
“Why are you here? Why were you a cat? How were you a cat? Who are you? What are you?” You asked. You had so many questions and they all came out at the same time.
“I’d rather not show you my actual form, for your sake. And do you know how much strength it takes to shift into a cat? You should be praising me. I’m so tired right now.” The man complained.
What was his “actual form”?
“What are you?” You repeated your question.
“A demon.” He said. “Yeah, right.” You say, not believing him. The man chuckled before closing his eyes. What was he doing?
As he opened his eyes, his dark brown eye color was no longer there. Now his pupils were a fiery red color.
You yelled and tried to run away, but he held your arms, not letting you move.
“Let go of me!” You yelled.
“Y/n, calm down.” He says, his eyes going back to their original color. “How am I supposed to calm down? You—you just—I can't—” you stuttered, not knowing what to say.
He stared into your eyes and you felt yourself calming down. It was like he casted a spell on you or something.
“Did you just cast a spell on me? Are you a witch too?” You ask, not able to take your eyes off of his.
He chuckled. “I’m not a witch. I’m a demon. A handsome one.”
You wish you could roll your eyes at his comment. “Who are you?” You ask. “And why do you seem so familiar? I’m almost one-hundred percent sure that we’ve never met.”
“Y/n, I’ve been with you since you were young. Don’t you remember me? Haven’t you got my little notes and messages?” He asks you.
“Specto tu. Protinus te videre, XXI.” He spoke.
Your eyes widened. That’s what was written on the chalkboard that day you were in school! “You wrote that? How? Why? Why couldn’t I see you?”
“Being a demon surprisingly has its many perks. One of them being invisibility. And it was a reminder. Didn’t you translate it?” He asked you.
“It said I’m watching you. And see you soon. Then it said twenty one.” You say.
“I was watching you. I’ve always been watching you. And it was a reminder because I’d see you on your twenty-first birthday, which is today.” He explains, letting go of your hands. “Happy Birthday, by the way.”
It was him. He was the thing that was always with you. The thing that creeped you out. The thing that you always knew was watching you.
You brought your hand up to his face and slapped him, anger filling you.
His eyes widened and he held his cheek in pain. “What was that for?” He asks.
“You! You’re the reason that I spent almost eleven years of my life scared to death! I was always so scared, and it was because of you! You messed me up, man.” You explained.
“I’m sorry?” He said, but it sounded more like a question.
You slapped him again.
“What was that one for?” He asks.
“That’s for messing up my house when I’m not home. You always leave my lights on. And you leave my cabinets open. And all of my papers are always all over my desk.” You say.
“I’m sorry. I get bored sometimes when you’re not home.” He admits.
“Who are you?” You ask.
“I’m Yoongi. Min Yoongi. You’re y/n y/l/n.” He finally introduces himself.
“Well, Min Yoongi. You’ve been stalking me for eleven years, why?” You question.
People supposed to be scared when they find out that a demon has been stalking them for so long, so, why didn’t you feel scared?
“You’re interesting.” He says, simply.
You rolled your eyes, finally out of his spell, or whatever it was.
After a moment of silence, Yoongi spoke up. “I’m not here to hurt you, so if you’re scared of me, you don’t have to be. Although, I’m not getting any scared vibes from you. You’re not scared of me?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I am. I just think that I was more scared when I didn’t know who or what you were.” You admit.
“Really? Then maybe I should erase your memory.” He smirked.
“No. No way.” You say. “I was joking.” He chuckled. “Or was I?”
“Min Yoongi I swear to—” you started. “Don’t say it.” He warns you, eyes turning red.
“Sorry. Sorry.” You apologized, looking down at the floor so you wouldn’t have to look into his eyes.
Yoongi took a deep breath before speaking again. “You should go to bed. It’s late.”
“It’s 6 pm.” You tell him.
“So? It’s never too early to go to sleep.”
You shook your head before opening your bedroom door and walking out into your living room.
“What are you still doing here? Leave!” You hear Yoongi say. He wasn’t talking to you, so who was he talking to?
You turned around to look at him, but he was facing the kitchen. In the kitchen stood another man. He looked the same age as Yoongi, maybe younger. He had orangish/reddish hair. You noticed something. In front of him, on the counter was a cake. That wasn’t there before.
“Who is this?” You asked.
“I’m Hoseok.” The boy with the orange hair smiled at you, walking over to where you and Yoongi were standing. “I’m Yoongi’s friend.”
“Hi.” You said before looking at Yoongi. “So what? Is my house like a demon magnet now?”
“Hoseok, get out.” Yoongi said, not answering your question.
Hoseok sighed and looked at you. “It was nice to meet you. Bye.” He smiled before you saw a flash of white. He was gone.
You looked over to where the cake was. Yoongi saw where you were looking and spoke. “It’s yours.” He says.
“Is it?” You asked, walking over to the cake.
“I told Hoseok to bring it for you. It looks good, right?” He asks.
You saw what was written on the cake and smiled.
“Happy Birthday, y/n.”
“As long as you share it with me, I promise I won’t trash your house anymore.” He smiled.
Despite being a demon, Yoongi was a nice guy. Maybe you wouldn’t mind having him around.
“We need to have another girl’s day out.” Your friend says. She was sitting beside you on the couch in your apartment.
“Yeah. I want to hang out with you and the rest of the girls more.” You tell her.
“We should go to a club or something.” She suggested.
A club? “I don’t think so.” You say. You weren’t really a fan of going to the club. The club is just a place where random guys try to hit on you all night, and you didn’t want to go through that.
“Oh, come on, y/n. Don’t be such a party pooper. We could go out to the club and have fun. You could meet a guy there!” She persisted.
“Why would I want to meet a guy there?” You asked.
“Y/n, you haven’t gotten laid in like a year. You need to meet a guy so you two can hook up! You really need some d—” Your friend explained, but was cut off by someone else talking over her.
“What’s this talk about y/n needing to meet a guy?” The person asked. You recognized the voice and turned around to see Yoongi.
“Y/n, who is this?” Your friend asks.
“This is—” You started. “I’m Yoongi. Y/n’s boyfriend.” Yoongi finished for you.
Your boyfriend? Since when?
“Y/n! How could you not tell me that you have a boyfriend?” Your friend questions.
“I’m sorry, y/f/n.” You looked at your friend. “I wasn’t planned on letting you meet him. He promised me that he would stay in my bedroom while you came over.” You looked back at Yoongi.
“Sorry. I got bored in there.” He shrugs. “Y/f/n, would you mind coming back another time? I need to speak to y/n about something.”
“No problem. I’ll be on my way.” Y/f/n says, before getting up and walking to the door. She winked at you before leaving and closing the door behind her.
You turned around, only to see that Yoongi was closer to you than he was before. “You’re my boyfriend?” You asked. “Since when?”
“Since now.” He states. “Is it true?” He asked, not giving you time to respond to his statement.
“Is what true?”
“She said you haven’t been laid in a year. Is that true?”
“Does that matter to you?” You ask, raising your eyebrow. Why did he want to know?
“Just tell me.”
“What if it is true? Why do you need to know?”
Yoongi took two slow steps towards you so he was now standing on front of you with barely any space between you.
Would it be wrong to say he looked really hot right now?
While living with Yoongi, you can’t help but look at him sometimes. Like the times you two are just talking to each other and he smiles. You like his smile. A lot.
And the times he would come out of the bathroom only wearing boxers. His hair would be wet and he looks so good. You didn’t know if it was okay for you to think about him this way.
“You seriously went that long without getting laid? You went that long without letting someone touch you? Pleasure you?” He asks. As he spoke, you felt his warm breath on your lips. “It’s been about three months since I revealed myself to you. We spend like all day together, so why haven’t you told me?”
“Can we not talk about this? It’s embarrassing.” You say, turning around so you could walk away. When you turned around, Yoongi grabbed one of your arms and turned you back to face him.
“Yoongi, I—” You started, but Yoongi looked into your eyes and suddenly you couldn’t say anything. He was controlling you.
For about thirty seconds, he just stared into your eyes, and you were unable to say or do anything else.
Yoongi put his fingers on your chin and lifted your head up. He almost instantly lowered his head and attached his lips to your neck.
His actions made your eyes widen. “Y-Yoongi.” You stuttered, finally able to speak again.
He hummed in response and started kissing and sucking on your neck. It felt unbelievably good.
“Yoongi. Yoongi, wait.” You spoke, putting your hands on his shoulders and pushing him away. He looked at you and raised an eyebrow. “Why are you doing this?” You asked him.
“You don’t want me to do it?” He asks. “I-I didn’t say that. I just—” You started. “Then shut up and let me do what I need to do.” He speaks over you, pressing his lips against yours after he finished talking.
His lips felt so good against yours. You didn’t realize how much you liked his lips until this moment.
Yoongi held your waist with one hand, pulling you against him. You used one hand to run fingers through his hair and the other hand was still rested on his shoulder.
His tongue entered your mouth, exploring it and even meeting with your tongue.
You lightly tugged on his hair, causing him to groan into your mouth. Hearing him groan sent waves of pleasure down your body. You wanted more.
Yoongi pulled away from you, removing your shirt and his shirt before placing his lips back on yours.
You placed one of your hands on his neck, slowly trailing down to his chest, and then to the bulge that was evident in his pants.
You palmed him through the black sweatpants he wore and once again, he groaned into your mouth.
Yoongi placed his hand at the hem of your pants and pushed them down. You stopped out of them, now only left in your bra and underwear.
You pushed Yoongi’s sweatpants and boxers down and he stepped out of them before breaking away from you and sitting down on the couch.
“On your knees, baby girl.” He says to you. You did as told and got on your knees, coming face to face with his length. Yoongi leaned forward and removed your bra before speaking. “Be a good girl and suck.”
You nodded before putting one of your hands on his length, stroking it a couple of times before putting your lips around the tip. You decide to tease him by licking and sucking the tip, and only the tip.
“If you keep teasing me like that, you’re gonna be in big trouble, y/n.” Yoongi speaks in a stern voice. Trying to push his buttons, you continued to do what you were doing.
Yoongi got fed up and placed his hand on the back of your head. “It seems like you want trouble.” He says before pushing your head down onto his length. You took more of him in your mouth. He began thrusting his hips into your mouth, making you take in all of it.
The back of you throat stung, but you loved every second of it. “You love it when I do this, don’t you, y/n?” Yoongi asked, as if you could answer.
Suddenly, he pulled you off of him, standing up and picking you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist so you wouldn’t fall.
He walked to your bedroom, and while he walked, you felt his length brush against your core, which was still covered by your underwear. You sucked in a breath at the contact, causing Yoongi to laugh.
When he got you your room, Yoongi rested you on the bed, wasting no time before getting on top of you and attacking your lips with his.
Yoongi used this position as an advantage to grind down onto your clothed core, causing you to moan inside of his mouth. He chuckled before removing his lips from yours and putting them on one of your breasts. He used one of his hands to touch the breast that his lips weren’t on. He alternated between both breasts. You loved the feeling he was giving you.
Yoongi looked up at you, pressing his lips to yours as he slid your underwear off, both of you were both completely naked now.
“I’ve wanted to do this to you for so long, baby.” Yoongi admits before running his fingers up and down your folds. “You’re so wet for me. I love it, babe.”
You moaned as he stuck two fingers into you, not giving you time to adjust to them. Since you were so wet, his fingers glided in and out easily. He curled his fingers inside of you, touching the special spot that make you gasp.
“Yoongi.” You moaned. “What is it, baby girl?” He asks.
You just wanted him inside of you already.
You moaned again and since you didn’t answer his question, Yoongi spoke again. “Use your words, baby. Unless you’re not going to get what you want.” He smirked.
“You’re such a tease.” You say as his fingers kept going in and out of you. “I’m just getting started.” He says, pressing his fingers against your spot.
“Yoongi! Fuck!” You yelled, shutting your eyes tightly. “What do you want, baby girl?” He asks.
“I want you, inside of me.” You said. “I am inside of you.” He said.
“No. I want your cock inside of me. Right now, Yoongi.” You finally say. “You want my cock? Beg for it, baby.” He responds.
“Please, Yoongi. I can’t wait anymore. I need to fuck me right now. I’m so wet for you. Please.” You begged. “Well, since you asked so nicely.” He smiled, taking his fingers out of you.
He kissed your lips before aligning his length with your entrance. He gave you no time to prepare, or get used to it as he slid inside of you and began to thrust in and out of you at a fast pace.
He used one hand to prop himself up and placed the other hand on your thigh, gripping it as he easily pushed and pulled himself in and out of you.
He angled his hips a certain way and his length repeatedly pressed against your special spot as he went inside of you. “Oh my—yoongi!” You yelled, enjoying the pleasure that was being given to you.
“You like that? You like when I fuck you like this, y/n?” He asks before placing his lips on your neck.
He continued to thrust in and out of you at a fast pace. You were basically shaking from pleasure underneath him.
“Yoongi, I’m so close.” You informed him, feeling your orgasm reach closer and closer.
“I’m not letting you cum that easily. Beg me if you want to cum.” He tells you, looking at you.
You shook your head, teasing him.
Yoongi raised an eyebrow, shocked that you refused to obey him in a situation like this.
“Beg me.” He repeats himself.
You closed your eyes and bit your lip, holding back any sounds that would come from your mouth.
Yoongi suddenly pulled himself out of you completely before turning you so that you were laying with your stomach against the bed.
“On your hands and knees.” He instructs. You listened and did as told, having your ass on full display for him.
“I can’t believe you were being such a bad girl just then.” Yoongi says, rubbing both of your ass cheeks with his hands. “Do you know what bad girls get?” He asks.
You shook your head. “Bad girls get punished.” He tells you, just as you felt a sharp pain on your butt cheek.
Warnings: Smut. Unprotected sex (please use protection, kiddos). Swearing. I think that’s it.
Author’s Note: This is my first time writing Loki so I hope it’s good! Let me know what you think!
“Good evening, Loki,” you greeted,
taking your usual seat on one of the couches in the living room. You were
received with silence, just like you had been every day for the past three
weeks. Huffing softly but indignantly, you tucked your legs beneath you,
curling up against the arm of the otherwise empty couch. You dropped your
attention to your book, opening it to where you’d last left off, but you
couldn’t help stealing a few glances at the raven-haired trickster. He sat
elegantly in an armchair that he’d pulled close to the glass wall, staring
pensively into the distance outside.
Thor had brought his brother to the
Tower in hope that the “Earth’s mightiest heroes” would be able to keep him
under their watchful eyes, and maybe even have a good influence on him. So far,
the latter part was futile; Loki hadn’t acted out at all, but he’d done nothing
but brood in silence since he’d gotten here. Although, you could somewhat
understand why—everyone else in the tower was either treating him with a cold
shoulder, or making snide remarks to him in an attempt to rouse him up. You
didn’t really understand what the point of provoking him was. You’d even
attempted to break the ice with him, to no avail.
Summary: You go through college pretty much unnoticed, keeping to yourself and getting on with classes, until you bump into the object of your daydreams and your college experience is changed for the better Words: 4.1k Sam x Deaf!Reader (Stanford!Era) Warnings: none
Stiles all but gives up on ever finding his red hoodie again until he finds it stashed away in Derek's loft.
A short sterek ficlet for one of my favorite followers.
Stiles ran a hand through his messy hair, groaning loudly in frustration. He was standing in the center of his room, surrounded by a mountain of laundry. He scanned one more time for his signature hoodie before finally calling it. Today, at 10:07 a.m. on September 5th, 2017, his red hooded sweatshirt was officially lost to the void. He hadn’t seen it since the spring; California summer starts early and runs late, and on the first day it was cold enough to wear it he couldn’t fucking find it. What a summer ending bummer. A summer bummer, if you will.
He shot off a quick text to Scott to let everyone know he was gonna be late to the pack meeting, and grabbed his car keys, hoping desperately his dad wouldn’t see the ‘small island village post a hurricane’-esque mess his room had become.
The second thing Derek noticed when Stiles walked in to his loft set his brow in a deep furrow. The first thing was that Stiles was an hour late, and the second was the cyan hoodie Stiles was wearing. It looked crisp and new, and Derek could smell from across the room it had just been purchased, stale department store air clinging to it. Derek wrinkled his nose. It was a total assault on his senses. Stiles was supposed to smell like himself and pack, not the mall. Stiles wore red, not this teal crime against nature. This color actually almost hurt his eyes to look at. The brunette in question was staring at him, eyebrow raised. Derek felt him tense up, probably because his alpha’s intense expression.
Derek guiltily looked away, and continued listening to whatever Erica was saying about the pointlessnss of fingerless gloves.
Stiles shook his head, unsure of what caused the gorgeous alpha to be so annoyed by just his presence, he hadn’t even said anything yet! His heart hurt at that thought, he never expected Derek to return his feelings but being scorned like this was almost too much. Derek looked younger today, like he had finally gotten a bit of rest, but apparently even that wasn’t enough to soften his sour demeanor towards Stiles. Scott clapped him on the shoulder, and shook him lightly, bringing him back to the present. Act normal, he thought.
“Nice threads. New look?” Scott asked good naturedly. Stiles frowned, it was still a sore subject.
“Nah, I can’t find my favorite red hoodie, you know, the trademark Stiles one? I can’t figure it out, I wore it last spring and now it’s just gone. Had to shell out forty bucks for a new one today, everything else has holes in it from our ‘dark forest fun times of nearly being killed by supernatural creatures.” Scott frowned, shaking his head just as Isaac nuzzled into Stiles neck from the side, scenting him.
“You know, I think I saw that one here on the couch like…maybe a week ago?” Isaac interjected, lazily launching himself from Stiles to Erica.
Derek froze, heart rate spiking for moment as his ears blushed red. His untrained betas didn’t notice, but the picture was now clear. He must have left the hoodie he had sneakily taken from Stiles’ floor on the couch last week after he had taken a nap. Smelling Stiles’ scent helped him sleep, and he had been so tired, he didn’t think taking it would be too much of a big deal. He felt guilty, sick to his stomach, and ashamed. His longing after Stiles had never really caused problems before, and he couldn’t fix the problem without giving away he had stolen the hoodie in the first place.
“Really? I must have left it here…but this place is always so clean, why would it have been here a week ago? I haven’t worn it in at least two months.” Stiles trailed off, seeing he had lost everyone’s attention to the pizza that had just arrived. (The delivery guy didnt even get to knoock, the werewolves had already been there waiting. He was so startled Jackson had to catch a few of the toppling boxes.)
A fuck ton of pizza, two twelve packs of soda, and two bad horror movies later, everyone was saying goodbye and filing out of Derek’s loft. As Stiles was leaving, a hand gripped his bare arm firmly where he had pushed up his sleeves.(Derek refused to touch the blue monstrosity.) He looked up at Derek who was wearing the same annoyed expression as earlier.
“I’m sorry I was late, is that why-”
“I need to give you something.”
“Uh..okay, big guy. What’s up?” Stiles blushed, the close proximity being a little overwhelming.
Derek led him to his dresser, and carefully pulled something out of the top one. Stiles noticed he was acting slowly, like whatever was in his arms would fall to tatters or bolt if he moved too fast.
“I’m sorry.” Derek said gruffly, looking away as he held out something stiffly. Stiles grinned, taking the hoodie excitedly.
“My hoodie, you found it! That’s amazing, I’m so fucking happy. But wait, what are you sorry for? It’s in perfect condition, it even smells good.”
“…” Derek didn’t meet his gaze. Stiles stepped closer, touching his alpha’s arm lightly. The firm muscle of his forearm stiffened, and Stiles let go.
“C'mon, what’s up?” The werewolf looked up at him, cheeks burning bright.
“I took it. You didn’t lose it. I took it without your permission and I shouldn’t have.”
“But why, I don’t understand? I don’t think you’d wear it. It’s not really your style.”
“I couldn’t sleep. After the alpha pack and Kate kidnapping me again I didn’t feel safe. I was desperate. You smell like pack and someone I can trust. It helps.”
Stiles blinked, stunned. Derek trusted him. The sexy, badass, leather-clad alpha of his dreams was sleeping with hoodie to feel safe. The pale brunette felt himself flush from his chest to his ears. Derek had been looking less tired recently, and thinking about the countless terrible hardships he’s had to endure was heart-breaking, any kind of relief he got was well-deserved.
“Oh, that’s, it’s totally fine. No worries. No big deal. Keep it. I’m glad it’s been doing a good job.” Stiles rambled, smiling bashfully. Derek looked shocked, unsure.
“You’re not angry with me.” Derek stated quietly. Stiles’ heart broke a little more, Derek apparently thought he’d be furious.
“Of course not, you’re my alpha and my friend. I wish you had told me sooner. Maybe I can help somehow. Like, bring you some of my stuff to keep around or my bedsheets or something.” Stiles yelped when Derek suddenly pulled him forward and scented his neck gently with his nose and stubble-covered chin. He’d seen the alpha scent some of the others before on rare occasions, but he’d never been this affectionate with Stiles directly. Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek slowly, and damn did it feel great.
“You know, I could crash in your bed sometimes and then it’d really smell like Stiles Stilinski in here. Would that help?” Stiles was given an answer via Derek yanking his new hoodie off and pushing him towards the king size bed in the corner of the room.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Stiles gulped again. Was it getting hot in here? Was he dreaming? Did he hallucinate from some bad pepperonis on the pizza?
Stiles fell back when the back of his knees hit the mattress, bouncing lightly. Derek crawled on beside him, about a foot away after shucking his shirt and hitting the lights off.
Derek could hear Stiles’ pulse thumping loudly, and a mixture of nervousness and arousal. Derek was startled by his findings, but definitely on board. He’d take whatever Stiles was willing to give him.
Stiles rolled over, facing away from the alpha.
“This would probably work better if you’re c-closer. Like to me.”
Derek hesitantly wrapped his arms around Stiles, nose pressed into the brunette’s hairline. He was overloaded on the familiar scent and it felt so, so good. He could practically feel the stress pouring from his body.
Stiles felt the muscles of his alpha relax, his own body going slack against Derek’s hard muscled chest. After a moment, he felt hot breath tickling his neck. Derek had passed out.
“Wow. That was fast.”
“I hate the blue hoodie. Take it back to the store. Burn it. I’ll give you the money you paid for it.”
Stiles chuckled in Derek’s arms. “Okay, sourwolf.” It was the start of something, he could feel it.
I was going to post this later but what the hell. This is in Yoongi’s pov, there will be more in his pov but I figured this needed to be done since I had some people freaking out over the last chapter. Thank you to anyone who has supported this story, it means the world to me. Anyway, hope you enjoy! (Also if you messaged me about how to make a masterlist, I forgot your username, i’m sorry! Message me again for the link it you still want it.)
Roman knew you were reaching your breaking point. As much as you tried to stay cool and collected under the gaze of his bedroom eyes, he could tell it was all an act. Being an upir had its advantages. One of them being how he could catch your eye and sense your body remembering every welcomed violation he performed on your pleasure deprived body only a few hours prior. He could hear your heart race and he could all but taste the blood rushing to his favorite spot between your thighs. He wanted you again the moment he watched you fall into euphoria in his arms.
Still no answer. You didn’t care that an old lady walking behind you gave you a very dirty look before shuffling down the corridor to her own apartment. It was only the manners instilled by your parents that stopped you from shooting daggers right back at her.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
“JEON JUNGKOOK! Open the fucking door right now or I -”
Your shouts as well as your fist froze in mid-air when the door whipped open to reveal the man whose name you’d been yelling at the top of your lungs.
“Why the hell are you banging my door down?” Jungkook’s frown and his tone told you that he was irritated, which fueled your anger even more. He had no right to be annoyed at you after the shit he had put you through today.
“Why weren’t you at work?” You managed to lower your volume now that there wasn’t a door separating the two of you, but you made sure that he knew how angry you were.
“I took a day off, but I’m sure you could have gotten that information from the HR.”
His flippant answer didn’t impress you one bit. “You know that isn’t what I’m talking about.”
“Then what are you talking about?” The question came out sounding incredulous, but you didn’t miss the uncomfortable shuffling of the guilty man. He knew what you were talking about. Before you could point it out, however, a high-pitched woman’s voice called from inside his apartment.
“Who’s at the door, babe? Come back to bed, I can’t wait anymore!”
NOTE: Pure Filth. Turn back now if you don’t want to see. Turning Tae Tae into my Fuck Puppy (Thanks, Anon). Soft femdom. Let me tell you, it was an EXPERIENCE writing this, and I am still not perfectly pleased with it. Mostly because I’m never happy with my own smut writing. I had to do so much research, so google probably thinks I’m freaky naughty af. Which I suppose I am considering I wrote this lol. So, for those that are hardcore into this and think I didn’t portray it well enough, I’m sorry, I tried. And I learned quite a bit about myself, like the fact that if I ever get my hands on someone like Tae, I am so going to try this. Now enjoy, and excuse me as I go drench myself in holy water to cleanse myself of sin.
“You know, I hate the winter. It reminds me of your cold heart.”
My now ex-boyfriend mutters this line, looking into the snowy sky. He sighs loudly and saunters off, without looking back. What a fucking drama queen. I can’t help but snort as I watch him disappear into the light snowfall, and wonder what movie he got that line from.
I don’t have a cold heart. He was just a damn bore. He never wanted to do anything but watch movies and freaked out if I suggested anything besides missionary. I’ve been thinking about breaking up with him for weeks now but was putting it off because I knew he’d cry. This saved me all the hassle.
Imagine: Being the communications specialist with Shiro and Matt at the garrison.
Warning: Just a little making out ;)
AN: Hey guys! I hope you all like this one, let me know what you liked, or if you have any requests!
His lips felt like fire on her skin. There was no pulling away at this point, not that it even crossed her mind. The feeling of his body pressed against hers, his thigh positioned between her legs, how his fingers gripped her hips, all of it made it impossible to think of anything else, but how good it felt. This was definitely against protocol, the small portion of her brain that has retained its sanity thought in the back of her head. It all felt like a deram. And if it was she never wanted to wake up.
She and Shiro were on the same flight team at the garrison. He was the pilot, and she, his communications specialist. They were also accompanied by an engineer by the name of Matt Holt, she swore he was some kind of genius, it was the only explanation for how smart he was. They had all been friends, but with the hours spent in the flight simulator, the late night study sessions, the constant contact between them, they became much more than that. The connection between her and Shiro was unshakable, you would never see one without the other, inseparable. It wasn’t until their third year at the garrison, did they notice a change in their dynamic. They weren’t the only ones to notice this change, Matt knew something was going on between them, even if they didn’t know exactly what.
For weeks, it was nothing but chaos. Longing stares from across the room, lingering touches, constant blushing, all at the expense of Matt’s sanity. There was a time when the two of you could barely be in the same room, in fear that in your clumsy state, someone could get hurt. Matt didn’t mind at first, that is until your team failed the flight simulator, putting a permanent ‘F’ on his record. Shiro had gotten distracted by you, in the middle of the mission, when you cut your hand on a stray screw driver, causing Shiro to panic, and in the end, sent their team crashing to the ground in a blazing fireball. He’d had enough.
He told you both to meet him in room B26, to go over what went wrong, and finish the mission report on the simulation failure. Each of you feeling a different kind of shame in the failure of the basic sim, and each feeling that it was your fault things had gone south.
The next morning when you arrived at the room, you met with Shiro on the way, but neither of you could stand to meet the other’s gaze. Too embarrassed to think it was your lack to self control that had ruined the mission. Keeping your head bowed, you both entered the room, the first thing you noticed was how cold and damp it was, the lights were off making it hard to see exactly where you were. Shiro’s shins came in contact with a mop bucket, sending it skidding across the floor.
“What the- “ he began, his eyes adjusting enough to see the shelves that lined the walls, filled different cleaning supplies. “Is this… a Janitor’s closet?” thinking that they must have walked into the wrong room, Shiro turned to exit, only to have the door slammed in his face. Shocked, he rushed forward testing the doorknob, and finding it locked. Thinking it must have been an accident, he slammed his fist against the metal door trying to get the attention of whoever had closed the door.
“Hey! We are in here! The door is locked, can you open it?” he called, hoping they were still close enough to hear him. There was a moment of silence, before they heard a familiar voice reply.
“I’m not letting you out until you two work this out! I don’t know what is going on with you buys, but whatever ‘it’ is, fix it! I am not going to get another ‘F’ in that stupid simulator, just because you two are acting like lovesick teenagers!” Matt’s voice was filled with a mix of anger and frustration. There was another pause, followed by what Shiro assumed was a sigh. “I’ll be back in an hour.” he said more calmly before walking away, ignoring the protests from his teammates.
They spent the next 10 minutes searching for another way out, only finding 4 metal walls all lined with janitorial equipment, and an air vent, too small for either of them to fit through. Shiro was sure Matt had picked this room specifically for that reason, no way to escape. Giving up on that idea, they resorted to searching for a light switch, their eyes adjusting enough to see outlines in the darkness but not much else. The tension in the room was palpable, neither of them trusting themselves to address the elephant in the room, why they were locked in here in the first place, they both knew what Matt had said was true, but were not willing to address it as the problem it was. Until the pressure got the better of them.
“I’m sorry.” you both blurted out at the same time. Fumbling to recover, you turned to continue, but your foot caught on the bucket Shiro had knocked over earlier, sending you sprawling on the floor.
“(Y/N)! Are you okay?!” Shiro asked rushing over to where he had heard you fall. Unfortunately, instead of helping you, he stepped on your hand. You cried out again, cradling your hand to your chest as you pushed back against the wall, pulling your knees in. Shiro’s heart felt like it was in his throat, how had he managed to mess this up even more?
“Oh God, (Y/N) I’m so sorry!” he stammered his panic rising up. Standing where he was he ran a shaking hand through his hair. He didn’t dare move again, scared that he would accidentally hurt you again, instead he decided to speak, and once he started, he couldn’t stop, everything just poured out of his mouth.
“This is all my fault. I just really like you, and you’re so pretty, and smart, and when you smile it makes my stomach go crazy, and you’re laugh, oh god, your laugh! It’s the best thing I’ve ever heard! It’s just so hard for me to think when you’re around, my brain goes all fuzzy and I can’t focus on anything else. God, I should have known better, i should have tried harder to hide my feelings, or i should have transfered as soon as I realized I loved you, and, and now we are stuck in here, and you’re hurt and-” in the darkness, you made out his outline, and rose to your feet, equal parts shocked and thrilled to hear what he was saying. Reaching out you placed your hand on the side of his face, rendering him silent. You couldn’t see his face, and you prayed he couldn’t see yours, you could feel your cheeks reddening as you drew closer. He could feel you coming closer, your hand gliding over his face, your fingertips tracing the outline of his lips. You felt his warm breath against your fingers, as you moved your hand to the base of his neck, standing on your toes. You hesitated, your lips stopping just shy of his.
Swallowing his nerves, Shiro closed the remaining distance, capturing your lips with his. In that moment it was like a fire was lit between you. His hands were on you in an instant, pulling you closer as his mouth moved against yours. Pressing forward, you stumbled back, your shoulders hitting the metal walls of the room hard. Shiro only paused for a moment before he was on you again, pinning your body to the wall with his own. His fingers gripped your sides, pawing at the material of your uniform. Pressing closer, he fit himself against you, a leg between yours, his hips against yours, like fitting puzzle pieces together. His lips pulled away from yours, only to attach to the exposed skin on your neck. He groaned into the hollow of your neck, as you raked your fingers through his hair, pulling on it slightly.
The heat between you continued to grow, and the once cold room felt like a furnace. So consumed in the moment, you both failed to notice the door to the room slide open. Matt caught site of the two of you, and paused for just a moment, as his mind registered the situation. Shaking his head, he crossed his arms over his chest, before clearing his throat. And just as quickly as it had started, the trance was broken. Shiro tore his body away from yours, his hair was sticking up in odd directions from where you fingers had mused it. While you pushed yourself off the wall, trying to stop your knees from shaking, and straighten your uniform at the same time, the small marks on your neck beginning to form. Both of your lips were swollen, and your faces were red, and in Matt’s opinion, you both looked thoroughly kissed. An amused smile pulled at Matt’s lips as he watched the two of you fumble to compose yourselves. No one spoke for a long moment, until finally, Matt broke the ice.
“Well,” he began, his voice eerily calm. “I can’t say that I didn’t see this coming, cause I did, and for that reason, I planned ahead. Because if ‘this’” he gestured between the two of you quirking an eyebrow. “Is going to happen, there need to be some ground rules.” stepping forward, he reached into his bag and pulled out a large 3 ring binder, shoving it into Shiro’s chest, who caught it quickly, looking down at the cover.
“‘Rules and guidelines of dating a teammate’” he read aloud, lifting his eyes questioningly to Matt.
“Volume 1?” you read over Shiro’s arm. “How many volumes are there?” you asked watching Shiro flip through the pages, each filled with words, and some having charts and pictures… this was obviously something Matt had put time into, and it definitely took longer than the hour they had been in there.
“There are 2 others back in my room, but I haven’t finished editing them.” Matt answered calmly. You nearly choked, and Shiro swallowed thickly, his eyes wide. Indifferent, Matt continued. “Also, there will be a quiz, so I would suggest going on a ‘study date’ instead of making out in a janitor’s closet.” you heaved a sigh, before turning your eyes to Shiro, a smile pulled at you lips, despite the obvious dislike of the situation.
“I’m free tonight.” you said, Shiro’s heart skipped a beat. He would read 50 of Matt’s ridiculous rule books, if it meant he got to see you smile like that again.
Nervous fingers drummed on the leather steering wheel as the thunder roared, grey clouds covering the bright California sun. Beacon Hills was due for a storm within the next couple days, but it seemed to be coming sooner than forecasted by the meteorologist on the nine o'clock news. Her car sped down the road to the high school, having gotten a cryptic message from none other than Theo Raeken. Theo was her lab partner for a science project and they would meet up at the school’s library when they worked together even if her boyfriend, Stiles Stilinski wasn’t a fan of the new addition to the small town they lived in.
Stiles was the only one who didn’t particularly trust Theo and it got on everyone’s nerves just a little bit. He’d never been as trusting as everyone else in the pack, even though some of them would have their doubts about people. Although, Stiles was a totally different story. He didn’t like anyone, he seemed to think the whole world was against him. It would take awhile for him to warm up meeting new people.
Earlier that day, a note was in her locker. Messy handwriting that she vaguely remembered was scribbled on the fold paper, her name in black ink. She unfolded the paper and read the message:
She’s tackled hostile business men – perhaps not literally (that’s her new girlfriend’s job), but effectively – and she’s survived her mother (enough said).
But this? This overly-casual invite from Kara?
“You don’t have to, you know, I know how busy you are, but if you wanted to, I’d love you to get to know everyone, but you know, you don’t have to – “
“Don’t be ridiculous, Kara, of course I’d love to spend more time with your friends.”
This sends her into a spiral that has her digging into her purse for her anti-anxiety medication, because she wasn’t lying when she told Kara that she was her only friend in National City.
But she was exaggerating slightly; because Kara was her only friend… anywhere.
So this idea? This idea of taking off her CEO blazer and fuck-me pumps to sit on a throw blanket with Kara and her sister and her sister’s girlfriend and their best friends – their family – and play board games and Mario Kart like she’s not horrific? Like she’s not vile?
Like she’s not a Luthor?
This idea is at once the nicest, kindest, sweetest thing anyone has ever proposed to her; and also the most terrifying.
Maggie knows, and Maggie talks her way past Jess: it’s not that hard, she just mentions Pam from HR and their outing the other night when Jess had that late meeting, and when it becomes clear that Maggie had no love for arresting Lena earlier; when it becomes clear that she’s concerned about her girlfriend’s kid sister’s girlfriend (”queer girl geography, right?” she jokes), Jess lets her through.
“Here to escort me out of my own building in handcuffs again, Detective Sawyer?” Lena glances up, holding in the amount hostility she’d normally show for Kara’s sake.
“Here to escort you to your girlfriend’s place for game night, actually.” Lena looks up from her paperwork with a slightly furrowed brow, and Maggie puts left hand under her lip briefly.
“Look, I… I didn’t have much by way of family. Before National City. Before Alex. And now… it’s scary. It’s scary, having people who just… accept you without an agenda, and want you to come eat potstickers and play crappy 90s board games in your socks on their living room floor, especially when they’re all already…”
“Family,” Lena supplies, skepticism still in her voice but shocked warmth growing in her eyes.
“Yeah. But Kara… Kara’s wild about you, Lena, and I… Here’s the thing. I understand what it’s like to feel like you don’t deserve a Danvers girl. But instead of beating myself up about it, I just try to earn it – earn her, earn Alex – every day. And I know you do the same for Kara. And she wants you there tonight, Lena. No one’s going to test you, no one’s going to ask you to prove yourself.”
Lena tries to swallow the tears stinging her eyes – she’s deeply unfamiliar with this feeling – and she bites her bottom lip slightly, at a loss for words.
“Unless you try to verse Winn in Mario Kart. He will try to crush you.”
Lena laughs, softly but irrepressibly, and Maggie grins. “Yes, he would be competitive about that sort of thing, wouldn’t he?”
Maggie nods and shoves her hands deep in her pockets. “I know Kara was gonna pick you up to take you over to her place, but I just… I don’t know. I could have used a pep talk from someone that wasn’t my girlfriend before my first game night with the squad, so… consider yourself pep talked.”
If Lena is expecting Maggie to ask anything in return – to hold anything over her for her kindness – she’s mistaken, because by the time she and Kara slip into an already full apartment about an hour later, Maggie greets her warmly from the floor, from Alex’s arms, but doesn’t give any indication that they’d just talked. Doesn’t give any indication that she’d just reached out to try to be Lena’s… friend.
“James Olsen,” James shakes her hand near the door with a small smile, and Lena gulps almost imperceptibly.
“A Pulitzer Prize winner, I daresay I know who you are, Mr. Olsen.” Also Kara’s ex. The pit in her stomach grows wider, but James smiles broadly.
“It’s just James,” he assures her, and pulls Kara into a hug.
“I’m happy for you,” he whispers, and she kisses his cheek while still holding Lena’s hand. Or, more accurately, while Lena keeps her hand in a vice-like grip.
She’s already met Alex, Winn, and Maggie, so none of them bother getting up, all engrossed in some sort of card game that has Winn screaming something about cheating and index fingers and unfairness in between waving enthusiastically at Lena.
She perches on the couch in front of them all as Kara sinks back in the pillows.
“It’s okay, Lena, you can relax. I promise,” she whispers, and Lena melts and leans back into her.
Alex glances up and grins.
“I hope your thumbs are ready for war,” she says, and Lena blanches slightly. Maggie leans her head back into Alex’s shoulder so she can meet Lena’s eyes.
“She means Mario Kart.”
“Winn takes it very seriously.”
“Hey, so does Kara, it’s not just me!”
“Oh please, Schott, you almost gave Maggie a bloody nose with your flailing last week!”
“The key word is almost, Danvers!”
“Yeah Alex, no need to take out my tech man with some index finger trick just because your girl’s face got in the way of his maneuvering – sorry Maggie – “
“Not at all, Olsen, I’ll just make sure to toss some turtle shells at you – “
“You wouldn’t – “
Kara laughs along with the banter, and Lena just tries to follow it all. Kara watches her carefully, a soft smile on her face. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she kisses her cheek, and James smiles affectionately and nudges Winn.
“We’re outnumbered, man.”
Winn laughs happily and tosses aside his cards – he would never admit it to Alex, but he was losing anyway – to set up Mario Kart as Alex takes the opportunity of Kara’ diverted attention to kiss Maggie senseless.
Between Winn’s excited yelling and wild gesturing, James’s cheering a squinting, focused Kara on, and Maggie’s cheering a pursed-lips, focused Alex on, none of them notice immediately.
None of them notice immediately that Lena is silent but Lena is determined. That Lena’s expression is set, is fire, is blazing with the shock of being surrounded by people who love having her there, who toss their arms around her to grab more popcorn easily, who make sure she’s getting enough to eat, to drink.
Who only ignore her when they’re focusing on driving their Mario Kart characters forward.
Who notice her – who care – at every moment except exactly when she wants to be stealthy. When she wants to sneak up behind all of them, perfectly calculated to pull ahead with a burst of speed just on the last lap, with a brilliantly timed maneuver that puts her strategically-chosen Toad kart ahead of everyone else’s for a first-place win.
Kara beams and bounces on her seat and squeals because if she can’t win, then her girlfriend definitely should; Alex tosses down her controller and exchanges a slack-jawed expression of begrudging admiration with Winn; and James and Maggie try their very hardest not to giggle, not to tease Kara, Alex, and Winn over the ultimate Mario Kart upset.
Lena smiles nervously into the silence and shrugs. “It’s all about strategy, isn’t it?”
She gulps and she fights down panic and she fights down agony because maybe she shouldn’t have won. Maybe they accepted her only before she stole their spotlight, their rush.
But then Alex is leaning in and Alex is grinning and Alex is more than the hardcore, take-no-prisoners agent that unflinchingly and single-handedly blew up Lena’s mother’s most updated facility, because Alex is congratulating her and Alex is, “Okay, you’re definitely coming to this every week. Anyone who can make Winn lose like that? Definitely a keeper.”
She squeezes her sister’s knee and Kara beams and practically tackles Alex with a hug and Maggie nudges Lena softly while James and Winn egg on the tickle fight that ensues.
“Our Danvers girls, huh?”
Lena fights down tears again, worn out Play Station controller still in her hands. But this time, the tears aren’t anxiety or disbelief or distrust.
Here he was, sat on my sofa with a glass of water in his hands. Why was he here? I don’t have a clue. Why did I open my door for him? I don’t know why I did either. Maybe it was the way he was looking at the door when I looked through the peephole, or maybe it was the way he was punching the door with his fists, demanding that I’d open the door for him. Or maybe even the way his voice wavered as he stuttered calling out to me. ‘Y/N ah! Please just please open the door, let me see you, let me talk to you.’ So I guess that’s how I ended up opening the door because my heart wouldn’t let me do otherwise. I was looking at him from the kitchen door, leaning against the frame of it, pondering to myself.
Like idk if you do request or ideas or whatever, but an au where 2017 dan is teaching the reader (or 2009 phil), how to fuck 2009 dan. Would actually be awesome.
Sorry for the long ass wait. If you have trouble reading om mobile, open in your phone browser y’all.
has always had a problem with finishing things. There’s a file on his computer
with an endless list of unfinished video ideas, a half-completed photo board he
started about a year ago pushed under his bed, and about five songs on piano
that he’s only taught himself a quarter of the way through. He’s never been
great at finishing things he’s started, so it’s no surprise that he’s the same
when it comes to sex.