this pairing never even crossed my mind when i was watching

Bad Things- Jughead Jones

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Description: Just glimpses in to Jughead and Reader’s relationship. Heavily based off of the song “Bad Things” by Camila Cabello and Machine gun Kelly because I’m a total slut for that bop

Warnings: SIN SIN SIN SIN SO MUCH SIN IM A SINNER, Swearing, implied smut, actual descriptive smut like guys this is kinda intense.

I DID IT OKAY I SINNED FOR Y’ALL

(Disclaimer: If you are uncomfortable with Jughead Jones smut then Do.Not.Read. This is literal actual smut intended for the Riverdale Tv Show version of Jughead Jones portrayed by Cole Sprouse, as all my other fics are. If you are offended or do not like this kind of stuff, then just keep scrolling. This is requested by my followers and I won’t deny it or not do it simply because a few other people don’t like it.)


            ___________________________________________-

“Am I outta my head, am I outta my mind? If you only knew the bad things I like.”


It was the little things about him that always had me craving him. The veins along his wrists, when his jaw was clenched. The little hints of curls that poked out of his gray beanie, almost as if they were begging to see the light of day. The frame of his body was probably my favorite part. I had never been attracted to buff men, particularly guys like my friend Archie Andrews. He was a whole different story though. He was tall and lean, almost comparing to the body of a track runner, but his body was still toned in all of the right places, and he was certainly strong enough to carry me up my stairs to my bedroom. Jughead Jones made me think the most sinful things, and I couldn’t ever stop. I’m just lucky that the feeling is mutual.

“Y/n?Did you just hear a thing I said?” My best friend Veronica looked at me expectantly, her eyebrows raised and looking frustrated with me. Truthfully, I hadn’t heard a thing she said. I was too busy focusing my attention on something more…interesting.

Jughead Jones had started out as a friend. That’s how they all did, right? We had four classes together, and mutual friends, so of course, we grew incredibly close over time.Eventually, it became something more The boy stared back at me, his blue eyes piercing through mine and in to my head, almost reading my thoughts. I saw as he mouthed a simple word “tonight” and I gave him a slight nod, biting my lip in response.

“Sorry V, she’s too focused on her loverboy.” Archie taunted me, passing by us and to his friend, knocking shoulders with him. Jughead blushed slightly, not moving from his position on the lockers, his arms crossed over him. I could fix that.

I strutted over, my hips moving a little more than they usually do. Jughead uncrossed his arms and they immediately went to my waist once I reached him, pulling me in to his body that was still against the lockers. I leaned up, pressing my lips to his quickly before the bell rang. I broke apart from my boyfriend, my hand sliding down his shirt slowly. I pulled away, winking at him before strutting off. I didn’t even have to turn around to know his eyes were on me, watching my every step.



“No matter what you say, no matter what you do, I only wanna do bad things to you.”



Jughead and I had been together for a good six months before we got in to our first fight. He always had his nose shoved in to his laptop, and I got no attention from him anymore, and I was angry. I had waited a while for him to notice, and he never did, so I took matters in to my own hands.

My boyfriend sat at a stool in my kitchen, his hands in his hair and his laptop in front of him, His beanie long forgotten on the counter. If I wasn’t so pissed at him, I might have offered to release some of that tension, but I wasn’t in a giving mood that day. I slammed the laptop shut, my eyes glaring at him. Jughead looked up at me with a confused look.

“Forsythe, do you remember why I invited you over?” I asked him, my eyebrow cocked while I waited to his answer. His mouth opened slightly, trying to string together something and drawing up a blank. I scoffed, shaking my head and walking away.

“Baby, wait-” Jughead hopped off the stool, following me out of the room.

“Jughead, I asked you to come over because I wanted to spend time with you!! Not so I could watch you on your laptop the whole time! I just want some of you to myself!is that too much?”

“You know how important this novel is to me, y/n-”

“ I know that! But I should be more important!” I shouted. I didn’t care if I sounded selfish. I was pissed.

“ Of course you’re more important! What kind of question is that?!” Jughead looked at me like I was ridiculous and I shook my head.

“Really? Because sometimes it feels like you would choose that book over me if it came down to it.” I crossed my arms, my foot tapping against the hardwood floor. Jughead’s face fell, and the anger on his face was replaced with a sad look.

“That is not true, that is not true at all, I would always choose you.” Jughead closed the gap between us, his arms wrapping around my waist. I pushed him away slightly, my hands on his chest.


“Prove it.” I spoke bravely, my tone of voice becoming different.


Everything happened relatively quickly from there.Jughead’s hands went around my back, lifting me so my legs were wrapped around his waist, and his fingers wrapping around the backs of my thighs. His mouth was on mine and I felt my back hit the wall. Jughead’s lips went to my neck, sucking harshly at the skin until purple bruises adorned it. My hands went to his sweater, almost ripping the fabric just to get it off of him.

“ My room,” I panted, my hands tangled in Jughead’s hair while he sucked harshly at the collarbone peeking out of my tank top. He adjusted my body that was wrapped around his before making his way to the stairs, carrying me up them. I felt my back hit my mattress and Jughead was on top of me, his legs on either side of my waist and his hands already under my shirt. His had already been tossed over a chair in my room.

I flipped us over so I was on top,grinding my lower body in to his. Jughead let out a low groan, his head tilting upwards at the contact. My hands made quick work unbuckling his belt, pulling it off of him quickly and unbuttoning his jeans. Jughead looked at me impressed.

“No matter how many times you do that, I’m still pretty shocked at your skillwork.” Jughead’s arms went behind his head, a smirk now on his face.

“Don’t get too comfortable.” I taunted, my hands going behind my back.

I unclasped my bra, tossing it across my room somewhere. Jughead sat up quickly, his mouth already on my chest, littering my body with hickeys. He flipped us over again so he was in control, and pressed open mouth kisses down my stomach to my hips, his fingers curling under my sweatpants and dragging the waistband down and off of me. My breath hitched in my throat when I felt his lips on my thigh, leaving light little kisses up them until his mouth was over the fabric of my underwear. My back arched off the mattress at the feeling, my fingers gripping the sheets until my knuckles turned white. Jughead hooked two of his digits in to the side of my underwear, pulling them slowly down my thighs.

“Jug… Jug please.” I begged, not really in the mood to take things slow. Jughead pulled the fabric down the rest of my legs, and they went flinging in an unknown direction of the bedroom.Jughead’s head dipped down, and I was breathing intensely, my hands going to his hair and tangling in to the strands, gripping tightly.




“We’re both wild, and the nights young, and you’re my drug.”




Parties weren’t Jughead’s thing, but Cheryl was in fact now a part of our gang, and it was only fair to at least make an appearance. So, on Saturday night, I was getting dressed and ready to go to her party. I wore a simple blue dress a gold belt with a bow around my waist, and some black ankle boots. Veronica and Betty laid on my bed, chatting amongst the two of them while I finished my makeup. I was finishing my lipstick when Archie and Jughead walked in to my door, both of them surprisingly having smiles on their faces.

Jughead made his way towards me immediately, pressing a kiss to my temple and standing behind me, his arms wrapping loosely around my shoulders. I looked at him through my vanity mirror, blowing a kiss at him, and he blushed and rolled his eyes.

“Are you almost ready y/n?” Betty sighed exasperatedly. She say up from the bed, smoothing out her romper, and Veronica wrapped her an arm around her waist, leaning her head against her girlfriends shoulder

“Oh, Bets, let the poor girl take her time. It’s always classier to be fashionably late.” Veronica pressed a kiss to the shell of Betty’s ear and her face went red.

                                       —————————————–

We arrived on time to the party and everyone split up, Betty and Veronica dancing, Archie talking to Valerie, and my back to Jughead’s chest as we sunk in to a corner of the room, to have some privacy. His arms were around my waist, holding my tightly to his body while he pressed kisses to my neck, whispering incredibly sinful things about what he would be doing to me right this minute had we not been at Cheryl’s house.

I know that Jughead would have rather been at my house tonight, cuddled in to each other on my couch watching a movie, or just talking and being in each other’s presence, or even trying out some of the things he had been whispering to me. I felt a little sympathetic for him, but I knew just the way to cheer him up.

I turned around, my hands slipping in to his, and I pulled him towards the middle of the room. An upbeat song was playing and everybody was dancing and jumping around. Jughead huffed, not wanting to go, but I knew he wouldn’t resist if I tried hard enough.

I finally got him to the middle of the room, my hands lacing with his, my back pressed against his chest as my hips swayed back and forth to the music. I could feel Jughead was tense, so I gave him a little incentive by pushing my lower body in to his slightly, and I heard his breath shudder a bit before he was moving his body against mine and his lips were on my neck.

“we should go back to your place."Jughead whispered, his lips brushing against my skin. I tilted my neck so he could have easier access, taking his hands in mine and running them down the sides of my body. With the way his body was moving against mine, and all the things he had been sharing with me earlier, it would be an understatement to say I was worked up. I grabbed his hand again, weaving through the crowds and shouting a goodbye to Betty and Veronica before starting the trek to my house. Jughead and I walked hand in hand, slowing down every once in a while to kiss each other.


"When we get home, you’re in for it.”

“Oh, I know.”




“And you keep me in with those hips, while my teeth sink in those lips, while your body’s giving me life, and you suffocate in my kiss.”


Fuck, Forsythe.” I hissed, my nails digging in to his back. My hips moved slowly down on to his length, my fingers moving up his back and in to his hair. His hands were wrapped around my body, his lips biting harshly at my shoulder. When I felt my body adjust to him, I rose my hips before sinking back down on to him again.Jughead captured my lips with his, his teeth biting gently in to my bottom lip. We lazily kissed as I moved up and down slowly, my walls tightening around him slightly. Jughead held me as close to his body as he could, our chests pressed together.

I was on cloud 9 every time I was intimate with Jug. Everything about him was breath taking, and he was so beautiful when he was like this: his lips slightly parted, his curly hair matted down and sticking to his forehead, and his body shining from the warmth of our bodies colliding.

I started to move my hips a little faster, grinding down on to Jughead’s hips. Jughead buried his face in to the crook of my neck, and his arms wrapped around me even tighter, if that was possible. I used whatever energy I had left to move my hips faster, bringing Jughead and I both to the edge. I could feel the warmth in the pit of my stomach, warning me that I was close.

“F-fuck, Forsythe,I-”

“I know, baby.” Jughead began to meet his hips with mine on every thrust, one arm unwrapping from around my body to press the pad of his finger to my clit. I gasped at the sensation, my nails scratching against his back harder.

“Shit, shit, I-I’m-” I cut myself off, not having enough breath to finish my sentence. I felt my stomach tighten and then I was cumming on Jughead’s dick, a quiet moan escaping my lips. I kept thrusting against him, riding out my high while he chases his, soon I was being hit with overstimulation, but I powered through it, bouncing against Jughead as fast as I could.

“Fuck, fuck, shit, I’m gonna-” strings of curse words escaped Jughead’s lips as he flipped us over, pounding in to me as hard as he could. His lips went around on of my nipples, sucking harshly, and his fingers rubbed quickly and forcefully against my clit, drawing out another orgasm from me.

Before I knew it, I was cumming again, this time Jughead following as he came inside me. Jughead’s body collapsed on top of mine, not before pulling out of me slowly. My hands tangled themselves in his hair and his arms went back around my body, his head laying against my chest. I could feel his heart race against my own beating heart, and I looked down at my beautiful boyfriend, as I smiled.He was all mine.





“The way we love, is so unique, and when we touch, I’m shivering.”





I woke up to the light shining from my bedroom window, the rays of sun peeking through my curtains and casting rays of light along the sleeping bodies of Jughead and I. The night before had been our one year anniversary, and he “spent the night”, Which resulted in to this morning, the both of us naked in my bed. Jughead was already awake, his fingers tracing along my arms.Goosebumps ran along my skin at the feeling of his touch, leaning up to give him a kiss.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Jughead mumbled against my lips. I giggled as his fingers went to my sides, tickling me the slightest bit.

“Good morning, handsome.” I smiled down at him, my eyes practically in the shapes of hearts. I loved this boy to death. He was the most perfect thing I had ever found in this world.

“How are you feeling?” He asked me, his fingers stopping so his arms could wrap around my back. He pulled our bodies tighter together.

“I’m great.” I told him, leaning down to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. Jughead’s face scrunched up slightly and I giggle again, my hands cupping his cheeks.

“I love you, so much. So, so, soso much.” I started pressing kisses all over his face and I felt it scrunch up again before catching my lips with his. Jughead wasn’t a super affectionate person in public, so I loved these moments I had with him, hidden away under my covers, where it was just the two of us.





“And no one has to get it, just you and me.”






“I swear to god, you two are the most sickeningly cute couple in..in… In god knows what!” Veronica threw her hands up dramatically before slamming them down on to the table at the booth. She looked at the two of us, who sat across from each other. Jughead and I didn’t break our eye contact, still looking at each other and smiling brightly.

“Come on, V.It’s cute. They’re cute.” Betty defended, sitting across from her girlfriend.

“ I know, but look at them! All they do is stare at each other like its the morning after their first time.“ Veronica scoffed before pausing for a second. Her mouth opened in shock before she whispered loudly.

"You guys fucked!” Jughead and I broke apart at that, looking at Veronica with wide eyes. I was about to shake my head when Jughead interrupted.

“We’ve been fucking, V. Catch up.” Ronnie and Betty’s mouth fell open simultaneously at the confidence in Jughead’s voice.He leaned back in the booth and turned his attention back to me, cheekily winking at me. My cheeks grew hot as I looked back at my best friends, mouths still open in shock.

“You guys, you, you’re-” Ronnie stammered, looking back and forth at each other. Jughead and I started laughing at Ronnie’s reaction, and she sputtered.

“I don’t get your relationship. I seriously don’t.” Ronnie slumped in her seat, her chin resting in the palm of her hand.

“Cheer up, V. It’s y/n and Jughead. Nobody gets it except them.” Jughead and I had already tuned out Betty though, our attention going back to each other. Nobody had to understand our relationship, because it wasn’t theirs. It was ours, And it was perfect.

Kisses {Harry Styles Smut}

PAIRING: Harry/Y/N
RATING: R lol
WORD COUNT: 10k y’all!!!
REQUESTED: nope !

this is my longest one shot, it took up like 20 pages on microsoft word lmfao !! anyways it took me a bit longer than usual bc i went through a slight block (rip) but it is finished and i’m quite proud of it!! feedback is much appreciated, it rly motivates me!! ok that’s it i hope u enjoy :-)

~*~ 

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tsundere (m)

Originally posted by nnochu

⇢ resident advisor! yoongi x reader, college au

⇢ word count: 11.2k

⇢ summary: according to the rumours, min yoongi is a bad apple- doesn’t take grades seriously, drinks as if he has two livers, a certified bad boy™. when you get paired up with him for a project, you’d never expect that someone like him would have a thing or two to teach you about life itself- and how it should be lived. 

⇢ warnings: angst, smut

🎵 song recommendation: something just like this by coldplay x the chainsmokers

a/n: finally something that isn’t pwp????? :”) 


Panic races through your veins and fills up your airway, causing your breathing to double itself, chest heaving in an attempt to calm yourself down. No, this can’t be happening, you chant to yourself over and over. The clock on your laptop is glaringly bright in the near darkness of your room, and the numbers burn themselves into the back of your eyelids. When you close your eyes, the uncomfortable stinging of your contact lenses makes your eyes water and at this point they might as well be tears of desperation.

It’s not like you’ve never had writer’s block before, you reason with yourself. You just have to start writing and edit along the way. Your own voice of reason is drowned out by the anxiety that echoes all the possible consequences of not acing this paper. It’s nearly 4 am and the essay you have so far in front of you is not enough to get an A, you know it in your bones but you can’t come up with anything better either. You could just submit this as it is, but anything less than an A on this paper would pull you down from the cusp of that ever elusive first class honours. And you can’t afford to graduate with anything less than that. The very thought of it sends a fresh chill of panic that creeps down your spine and jolts your fingers into a typing frenzy, spilling thoughts and ideas onto your screen till you reach the end of the page.

But when you read over what you’ve written, it doesn’t make sense at all, just incoherent rambling sentences strung together into a never ending paragraph. In frustration you shove your laptop away from you and push back your chair, reaching for your keys and phone. Sneaking a peek at your roommate’s still form across the room, you let yourself out of the room silently, feeling your tensed shoulders relax immediately as the cool night air embraces you with open arms.

It’s a little chilly to be out in just a long shirt and sleep shorts, but since there’s no one awake to catch you dressed like this, it’s the least of your concerns for now. The balcony that is attached to your room affords a little privacy, and it’s one of the perks of occupying the corner room on this floor. The tranquillity of the cold, autumn night directly contrasts with the millions of theories and concepts running through your mind, and any attempts at clearing your mind are failing pathetically. The residential halls are eerily silent at this time of the night, and as you glance down over the protective railings, you consider how easy it would be to just climb over, just one leg over and then-

“Late night?” You whirl around at the interruption of a raspy, gruff voice sounding from behind you. Your eyes are met with a figure clothed in an oversized sweatshirt and jeans, but it’s only when you squint in the darkness to survey his face that you realise who he is.

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Arguments || Tom Holland

Relationship: Tom Holland x reader

Summary: You and Tom get into a fight about how the media portrays you and you let secrets spill before Tom regrets ever getting in a fight with you and tries to make it up.

Warnings: S M U T (18+), slight angst

Word Count: 1415 words.

A/N: sad tom would be so cute lets be real


Keep reading

Reminder

Summary: In which Bucky needs a reminder that he’s the only person you want to be with.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 948

A/N: This one was written for my love, @janelock221. HAPPY BIRTHDAY YOU RADIANT QUEEN. I took the two prompts you sent my way and threw them in here - it’s my small way of letting you know that your friendship means everything to me.

Originally posted by coporolight

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” you complain, staring at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. You don’t know how you got here. This wasn’t what you had in mind after returning home after a long day of work.

I don’t call you my partner in crime for no reason,” Bucky calls out, voice carrying through the wooden door that’s acting as the only barrier between the two of you. “Now c’mon, doll. I wanna see how you look.”

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Fixing things around the Haus was never really about the dibs for Dex. But, all the same, in the back of his mind he was still relying on his efforts in that department to secure him housing for his junior year at Samwell.

Which is why he’s a little surprised at himself for the sinking feeling in his gut when he’s officially offered a spot.

“Oh,” he replies dumbly.

Lardo blinks at him, clearly startled by his lack of enthusiasm, her hand still held out between them waiting for him to reach out and seal the deal.

Dex shakes his head and reaches his own hand out belatedly. Only to have Lardo pull back. “Bro. I’m not gonna give it to you if you don’t really want it.”

“No, no, I do! I promise I do. I’m sorry, I just thought…”

He thought that he’d be getting either Ransom or Holster’s dibs. And that Nursey would be getting the other’s. And, despite the fact that Dex has been dreading the very idea of that for the entire school year, he feels off kilter and lost now trying to imagine a scenario in which he lives at the Haus without Nursey constantly underfoot.

Even these past two years of living in the dorms, Nursey still always somehow manages to end up at the Haus whenever Dex does, stealing the last slice of pie while verbally needling at sore spots he knows well enough will get a rise out of his fellow D-man.

It seemed pointless to even hope that getting dibs wouldn’t somehow include Nursey at his side, and so Dex never bothered to factor in the possibility. He resigned himself to his fate. And now, presented with an alternative, he has no idea what to think.

“Do you, uh,” he clears his throat, watching Lardo’s eyes narrow at him, assessing. “Do you know who Rans and Holster are giving theirs to?”

“They’re giving them to Nursey, bro.”

“Right. But to Nursey and…?

“Just Nursey.” She shrugs. “Those bunkbeds don’t even have a ladder anymore, so we figured we’d turn the attic back into a single for now. And we thought we’d do you all a solid by making sure the SMH didn’t lose it’s next best D-man pair due to mutual homicide within the first week of preseason by making you shack up together. We’ve all seen how you two handle sharing a hotel room on roadies.”

To be fair, how they handle it nowadays is wildly different from the roughhousing mess of their first semester at Samwell. But apparently no one’s noticed that.

Dex goes abruptly still as a thought occurs to him that feels like a bucket of ice water over his head. “Wait. Was this Nurse’s idea?”

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Sober

2,500 Followers Oneshot

Summary: The reader is drunk and she tries to have sex with her best friend Jensen.

Prompt: “Why are you in my bed?!”

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 1,757

Requested: @supernaturalgirl85


Jensen tiredly drudges up the stairs in his Malibu home, grumpy as all hell. He just lost $2,000 at a poker game and it’s safe to say that he’s ripshit.

Although he’s not concerned about actually losing the money, being a successful movie director has set his ass up for life.

It’s just the fact that he lost. He’s a competitive fucker, always has been and always will be. It’s in his DNA.

And to add fuel to the fire, his friends refused to give him another chance to win back his money. Claiming it’s too late and they needed to call it a night. It’s only midnight for Christ’s sake. Old bastards.

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1940 -- Chapter One

(banner credit: @tiostyles)

The beginning of a series where you fall in love with a soldier named Alex.

A Note From The Author: This is the first of many chapters for this Alex!AU. This chapter is simply setting the scenes for what is to come between y/n and Alex. Stay tuned for swing dancing, cheeky banter from Alex, and a few stolen kisses along the way. Let me know what you think! xxh


April, 1938
London, England 

The store sat empty, as it did most days of the week. Dust regularly collected on the cash register sitting in front of you and its brass keys grew stiff with the lack of activity. With your elbows propped up on the counter, you leaned your weight forward and held your chin in the hand that wasn’t busy drumming across the countertop. They tapped in time with the clock ticking on the wall, a constant reminder that you were stuck here on such a lovely day outside.

It was unusually warm for this time of year. Normally covered in a dreary layer of gray, the sidewalks and storefronts shone in the rare-April sunshine, people out and about, taking advantage of the weather. You were antsy as you watched out the window, hoping that someone, anyone, would walk through the door and give you something to talk about.

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I Think I Wanna Marry You...

Pairing: Dean X Reader.

Warnings: none.

S/P/N- Sister’s Preferred Name.

Summary: The reader, distraught over not having a date to her sister’s wedding, considers asking one of the Winchesters to pretend to accompany her; will Dean manage to save the day and play pretend for two weeks, or will his feelings get the best of him?

A/N: I’m a sucker for these “fake relationship” stories ;))



                                                   ~*~*~*~

Y/N pulls the phone from her ear, her frustration drawn out in the creases in her brow.


“Well?” Dean asks, sat opposite her at the library table. Before him lies an open lore book, on a page about Nordic gods and how to kill them, and his cup of coffee sits dangerously close to the irreplaceable relic. With Sam out doing some shopping, it’s just the two of them at home, trying to dig up some info that might be useful for future use.


Pinching her brow, the young girl shakes her head, waving a dismissive hand.  “Nothing. It’s fine.”


“Ya’ sure?”


“Yes.” She says, trying to sound convincing, but its of no use, because the elder Winchester has known her long enough to see past her facades.


Living together for nearly five years now, calling her his best-friend even feels like an understatement. They got to know each other a while back through a hunt involving a Tulpa in California; Y/N’s kill, but the boy’s happened to jump in on it and help out. Surprise surprise: a friendship sparked,  and ever since then, the relationship has flourished greatly.


To Dean, Y/N is family, just like Cas or Charlie or any of the other members of their little rehabilitation program they’ve picked up over the years. And with that, he knows—well enough—that despite her efforts to dismiss it, something is nudging at her mind.


“Obviously not. You seem like you’re about to explode. What is it?” He shuts the book and leans forward. Y/N still looks exasperated; still tries to act like she isn’t, and fails terribly. When she finally lifts her gaze, her expression is that of defeat.


“It’s my sister.” She says mournfully. “She’s calling me about her wedding coming up this month, and wants to know if I’ve been signed up to the family news letter that allows me to see all the updates on things like which floral arrangement we’re going to have. Surprise surprise—I’m not.”


“Damn.” Dean says plainly, still not seeing the reason behind her chagrin. Y/N rolls her eyes at him, trying to look annoyed, but the smile that she suppresses says otherwise.


A sardonic laugh escapes her. “Yeah, damn indeed.”  She rises from her seat, downing her coffee. Dean glances at his, then stretches it across to her. She finishes it in a single glug.


“So….what now?” He leans back in the chair. “You don’t know the floral arrangements? Doesn’t sound so bad.”


“I don’t know anything about this wedding, Dean. I don’t know where it’s gonna be, I don’t know who’s gonna be there, and—until I few seconds ago—I didn’t know I’m going to have to be in Boston next week. S/P/N mentioned it in the newsletter but….” Her voice drifts off and she folds her lips into a straight-line, shrugging.


“What’s in Boston?”


“The wedding, apparently. Who even gets married in Boston? Yuck.” Y/N scowls.


“Your sister, apparently.” He almost rolls his eyes. “Right, so…go to Boston. Show up for the rehearsal, see your family, have fun, and then get back here once everything’s done.”


Dean explains it like it’s so easy.  To him, it is.  Wedding prepping can’t take more than three weeks, can it….? He wouldn’t know. He’s never had the chance to even be part of a wedding, but he assumes that that’s an appropriate estimate.


But, from the way Y/N bites her lip and averts her gaze to the floor, a look teetering between guilt and embarrassment on her face, maybe he’s wrong.


“Yeaahhh….” She draws out, skeptically. “Uhm…about that. It’s not as easy as it sounds…”


“Uhm…?” He quirks an inquisitive brow.


“I…sorta…told them that I have a date to the wedding and,…” Y/N gestures in the air, but doesn’t finish her sentence.


Dean watches her with a knitted brow, waiting for an explanation that doesn’t come, until realizations strikes. His eyes widen and his mouth forms a little “o”.


“Ohhh.”


“Yeah…” Her cheeks are dusted with a feint blush and she looks away.


Dean doesn’t want to say it, but he can’t help but think how cute it is—really cute. The only thing that can compete, he thinks, is the way her eyes disappear into her cheeks when she smiles.


As embarrassing as it is, he has almost an entire list like that about Y/N; things he thinks are adorable about her, things like her laugh, to  he way she’s so awkward around big crowds,  or how she has an undeniable obsession with space. Little things. Cute things. It goes on and on, infinite and growing each day, the more and more he gets to know her…but he’ll never admit that.


Because he can’t.


Because Y/N is family, and she’s just a friend.


“Well…is it like a must to bring one along? You could always just tell your family that you guys…broke up? Maybe he cheated. Maybe the love fizzled out.” Dean offers, shrugging.


Y/N looks at him with an un-amused expression. “Great thing to mention right before a wedding.”


“God, I don’t know.” Getting up from his seat, he rolls his eyes. He shuts the book and a gust if dust billows from it, then fixes it under his arm.“You’ll figure it out. It’s you.”


“Dean…”


“Yeah?”


Y/N doesn’t meet his gaze. Instead, she looks to the floor, arms crossed over her chest.“Well,…there is something I thought about doing, but—God, I don’t know. What if, like—” She finally looks up.


Dean waits for the bombshell he knows she’s about to drop with a cautious, furrowed brow,


“—I asked Sam?”  She finishes, her expression hopeful; her eyebrows are pulled together and she’s squinting slightly. The elder Winchester feels the wind get knocked out of him at hearing this.


His eyes widen. “Sam?”


“Not to actually be my date!—just to fool my family for the two weeks. Do you think he’ll go along with it?”


“I don’t get it—why don’t you just—“


“I can’t tell them I don’t have a date, because I already told them that I do. Going back on my word now will just make me look ridiculous, Dean. Just…”Y/N sighs and shuts her eyes. Dean can read the desperation in her features. He bites his lip, contemplating Y/N’s offer.


Sam, going on a date with Y/N. The idea is so ludicrous, so unbelievable that it sounds completely silly, like imagining pigs fly or anything of the nature. He can’t bring himself to even picture the two of them together, but…


Still.


He then feels something stir in his gut at the thought, a warmth, a….jealousy? No. Hopefully not. It’s been ages since these feelings have managed to surface. Now is not the time for a return. The elder Winchester quickly suffocates the feeling and averts his attention back onto his friend.


 Before him she stands, imploring y/e/c eyes, a sweet smile stretched across her face and hands clasped together. She looks like a little girl, so young, so desperate. The elder Winchester doesn’t want to say no. Even if he did—with puppy eyes like those—how can you?


“So you have to have a date to this wedding?”


“I do.”


Dean thinks for a moment, raking his eyes over Y/N’s face that speaks mountains of uncertainty.


“You think he’ll say no, huh?”


“I’ll do it.”


“What?” Confusion floods the young girls face as she unclasps her hands. They fall to her side. Dean gulps trying to level his voice to a more confident tone.


“I’ll be your date to your sister’s wedding.” He repeats, hoping he sounds more sure than he feels. His hands go cold, throat tightening.


Y/N’s face speaks volumes of surprise. “You’d…do that?”


Another nod.


“You’ll really do this?” She asks eyes wide. “A whole two weeks in Boston? With my family?”


Dean shrugs. For some wild reason, his heart is pounding in his chest and his palms are sweating, and he tries to stave off all the anxiety that begins to bubble within his gut. “Yeah. Why not?”


“Dean,” Y/N’s voice is stern all of a sudden. You can tell that she’s just as taken aback by the proposal as he is, but is trying not to show it. “If you say yes to this, I don’t want you to half-ass it? This is a real big deal for me, you know?”


“Look, do you want a date to this wedding or not?”


Y/N  then bites her lip, contemplating. The elder Winchester’s eyes never leave her as he watches, waiting for response, until she finally agrees.


“Okay.” She says. A small smile then twitches on her lips, and Dean can see she’s trying to suppress.


“ Okay. Awesome. I’m gonna call S/P/N and see if there’s anything more I need to know yeah?” She asks. He nods.


“Sure.” Dean says. “It’s fine with me.”


“Sure?”


“Mhm.” He knows he is, because the smile that breaks through Y/N’s authoritative face then is something definitely worth the decision. Her cheeks indented with dimples, she smiles, shaking her head, and then walks out to make the call. On the way out, she makes sure she butts her shoulder into his, just for fun. Dean lets out a nervous chuckle.


She’s gone. The empty library is silent, and that’s when his heart starts to thud.


Over and over, like a vicious doldrums. The silence only accentuates the sound of his rapid heartbeat, as the elder Winchester allows in a deep breath. His eyes flutter shut, and the anxiety begins to melt away gradually.


This is gonna be a hell of a wedding.


                                                  ~*~*~*~

Part 2

I’ve been in my feelings for Dean for the past few weeks so bear with me pls. Also, I’m very excited for this story; more chapters to come, hopefully soon.

As always, likes, re blogs and general feedback is greatly appreciated!

Best Birthday - Smut

Originally posted by sarcasticallystilinski

Author: @dumbass-stilinski
Rating: NSFW 18+
Pairing: Dylan O’Brien/Reader
Words: 3,330
AN: Okay I’m late I’m sorry! This fic was to celebrate my favorite little nugget’s 26th birthday. It would have been here sooner but they just wouldn’t stop having sex? Sorry, not sorry.


You woke up, your boyfriend’s firm body pressed against your back, and you sighed in delight. You were so glad he was home, finally, after being away for so long with his hectic schedule. His nose was pressed against your shoulder, his deep, even breaths tickling along your skin. You pulled his arm tighter around your waist, and settled back, your eyes sliding shut as you tried to go back to sleep.

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Paper Hearts Finale

Originally posted by tbhobi

Genre: Angst/fluff

♡ Pairing: Reader x Jungkook // Reader x Jimin

♡ Length: 6.4k

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

1  ♡2  ♡3  4  5  6  7  8 9 ♡10 ♡11 ♡12 ♡13 ♡14 ♡15 ♡Finale
♡JK ♡JM

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Brother’s Best Friend (M)

Jaehyun x Reader (feat. Johnny)

Word Count: 3.6k

Genre: Smut, Slight angst

A/N: My first published smut ayy.. I was stuck on this for a while but last night lordt I just went on one and finished it at like 4am lmao… Ty to my FLOwer (@nctreacting) for helping me out with this 💕

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Heartache

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 3,099

Summary: A look at the reader through Dean’s eyes, focusing mostly on Dean’s emotions throughout the day and how he reacts to even the simplest of words. This is the raw and vulnerable side of Dean. 

A/N: I haven’t written something like this, I think ever before. It’s heavily focused on Dean (especially since it’s his POV). Even so, the reader is a huge part of it, but once again, through Dean’s perspective on the matter. Hopefully, you love it. I spent a long time on it, trying to really get into Dean’s head. It’s not the light side of Dean, not many jokes or wise cracks – it’s him in his raw emotional state. Also, this would not be possible with @thefangirllifeismine who not only corrected all of my shitty grammar, but stayed an inspiration throughout. Please, send in your feedback. It’s extremely important to me, I’d love to hear what you thought about this, especially since it’s definitely different from what I usually post.

Originally posted by canonspngifs

– – – – 

DEAN’S POV: 

Her lips were moving, but my eyes were stuck on her hair. It was wet, and dripping a river down her shirt. I don’t think a towel ever touched her head.

“Dean?” Her voice was warm, inviting. It always was. She was never harsh with her words. Sam constantly tried to poke at her, just to see what her voice would sound like if she raised it.

“Yeah?” I met my eyes with hers, catching her gaze.

I felt my brother’s eyes on me as well; his brow was raised and a smirk played on his face.

“We were asking if you wanted to go to the bar tonight.” Sam filled me in.

A laugh came up from my throat as I raised the glass of whiskey in my hand. “I’m fine right here.”

Y/N smiled and looked at Sam, “You’re still in, right?”

He nodded and got up from his chair. “I’ll go shower.”

I tipped my glass in response, and took another swig from it.

“Have you been out in the sun?” Y/N asked, suddenly.

I furrowed my brows, “I was working on Baby earlier, why?” Then, proceeded to lift up my shirt and smell it. “Do I smell that bad?”

“No,” She let out a light laugh, “Your freckles are darker.”

“My- my freckles?”

She leaned forward in her seat, her nose a mere foot from mine, “Freckles get darker in the sun.”

“Huh.” I muttered and took another sip of my drink.

“It’s cute, Dean.” She said and the whiskey managed to go down even slower. My lip twitched upwards.

Without waiting for me to respond, she gathered her hair to the side and wiped her now wet hands off on her jeans before jumping out from her seat.

“I’ll go change for the bar. Invite’s still open.” She smiled, turning on her heel.

I watched her leave, shamelessly.

The first time Sam and I met her, it was an accident. Neither of us knew we had been working the same case, so when I approached who I thought was the legitimate FBI agent on the case, Y/N’s face beamed back at me instead. After a few back and forth questions, the three of us discovered none of us were agents, and went to grab drinks instead. It was supposed to be a one time deal.

But, one night turned into two. Eventually, three. In no time, I was helping her bring boxes into the bunker from the trunk of her run down car.

“We can’t let anything happen to her, you know that right?” Sam said to me the night she moved in. The shower water was running loudly, and in that noise, we had a discussion.

“I know.” I replied to my little brother. Worry etched itself into every wrinkle on his face, just like it did on our mother’s. He would never know just how much he looked like her.

“That means relationships, too.” Sam narrowed his eyes at me.

I looked away, forgetting how easily he was able to read me.

He continued speaking, “Everyone we get too close to…”

Sam never did finish his sentence. The shower water shut off abruptly and out bounced Y/N. Her face was flushed and her hair dripped down her bare shoulders.

My thoughts were interrupted as Sam strided into the room.

“You sure you’re not coming?” He asked, cuffing up the sleeves to his shirt.

It was tempting. I knew the bar had better whiskey than the shit that was currently burning its way down my throat. Better yet, the bar had Y/N. Whenever she entered a bar, I could see everyone’s attention land on her. Her warmth radiated through her big eyes and genuine smile. Who wouldn’t be attracted to that?

“Nope,” I shrugged, “Not tonight.”

He nodded his head and walked towards the door, waiting for Y/N to meet him there.

“See you.” Sam shouted, his voice echoed down the hall.

Moments later, Y/N came out from her room. A short navy dress was hugging her skin, but what stole my attention was the jacket draped across her shoulders.

“I hope you don’t mind.” She said, pulling my black jacket around her.

“Looks better on you, anyways.” I said. It was the truth.

“Thanks, Dean.” She smiled at me before opening her small purse, reviewing whatever items lay inside of it. “See you later.”

With that, she was gone.

It may have been another hour before I got up, but when I finally did it was solely because I needed to go to the bathroom.

I stopped at the mirror. My reflection stared back at me, but this time it was different. Usually, I don’t look in the mirror.

Not when I wake up.

Not before I go to sleep.

If I do, I hate it. Plain as that. I never did like the man staring back, and I don’t know if I ever fully will. What changed though was that this time, someone liked what they saw on me.

My fingers reached up to my cheeks, running along the freckles on my skin.

Y/N liked them.

She honest to god, found something of mine that she liked. So, I did too. Immediately, I loved my freckles. I loved that my cheeks and nose were dusted with them, and that the most beautiful woman that I had ever laid eyes on, had found beauty in me, as well.

– – – –

It couldn’t have been earlier than two o’clock in the morning, when I heard familiar footsteps stumble down the bunker’s staircase. I kicked the sheets off of myself and went to see the state they were both in.

“Come on.” Sam mumbled, trying to hold Y/N up, but he was hardly walking himself. “Dean!” Sam shouted, his drunk self wearing a huge smile.

“Oh, it’s Dean!” Y/N exclaimed, a laugh bubbling out from her lips. She gripped the edge of the staircase with both hands, leaning forward as she spoke.

I crossed my arms and raised my brows, watching the two of them stumble through the bunker like baby deer.

“Here-” Sam tossed me a pair of car keys, “We called a cab, the car is still in the bar parking lot.” The keys hit the floor with a loud jingle, his aim completely skewed from the liquor.

Y/N rounded the edge of the table and began to fall towards me.

“Woah, there.” I grabbed her by her arms and steadied her.

“Thanks.” She laughed once more, at nothing in particular.

Behind me, Sam had already found his way to his room. Eventually, I’d have to check on him. For now, I gripped Y/N’s shoulder and guided her to her own bedroom.

“Oh- I forgot!” She looked up at me with wide eyes. “Remind me in the morning.”

I looked at her, waiting for her to explain. When she didn’t, I asked her what she was talking about.

“I have-” she stuck her hand in the pocket of my jacket that she was wearing and pulled out a napkin. A number was scribbled onto it. “His name is Matt. I have a date with him tomorrow night. Remind me, ok?”

I took the napkin from her, fighting the urge to rip it to shreds.

“Okay.” I stated, turning on the lights as she walked over to her bed.

“Promise me.” She kicked off her shoes sloppily. “He’s so nice-” I could tell she was beginning to ramble. Once she’s had enough to drink, she tends to.

“I bet he is.” I cut her off, helping her unzip her dress.

“And Dean-”

“Yeah?”

“He just has the most gorgeous freckles!”

In that moment, I worried that she could actually hear my heart drop into my stomach. I swallowed thickly, and within seconds, she continued on her drunken ramble.

“Goodnight.” I stated, simply from habit.

“Night, Dean!” She dropped onto her bed.

I should have gone back to bed. I should have crawled under the covers and shut my eyes. My feet had other plans, though. Step after step, I was trudged through the halls and into the library where my hand found a bottle of brown and an old glass.

Sam’s words spun through my head. She had to be protected. I thought back to everyone I had ever gotten close to; Charlie, Jo, and Bela were long dead. Just like every other fucking hunter that I had ever met and let into my life.

Sam tried to show me the positives. He brings up names like Jody and Cas – but who knows what will happen to them too?

I took another shot.

Eventually, it got dark.

– – – –

“Hey, sleepy.” Y/N’s hand gripped my shoulder. “Wake up.”

I opened my eyes and everything was sideways. Fuck.

“You fell asleep here, again.” Her soft voice explained my current situation. It was embarrassing. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, looking at the scene before me. A mostly empty bottle, a half drunk glass, and what I think was a little bit of drool, lay on the table.

“What time is it?” I asked, quickly getting up from the chair and brushing past her. She smelled like her shampoo. Always vanilla.

She turned her wrist towards me. Nearly noon, her watch read.

“Thanks.” I muttered and began walking towards the kitchen.

“I should be thanking you.” Her voice called from behind me. Then, her footsteps began to draw nearer. “I couldn’t have been easy to take care of last night. Sam and I, we kind of let loose.”

I grabbed the coffee pot and turned it on. The sound of boiling water dripping down filled the silence.

“No, it was fine.” I replied, then remembered what she asked of me last night. “Except-” I reached into my back pocket and pulled out a crumpled napkin. “Matt.”

Her eyes went wide, “Oh god.” She took the napkin from my hands. Her hair fell before her face as she read the number, and she combed it back with one hand.

“I totally forgot. Shit.” She pulled out her cell phone and checked for any notifications. “I’ll just text him.”

I turned from her, unable to watch her any longer, and grabbed a cup for my coffee.

“Want some?” I asked over my shoulder.

“No, thanks.” She said, just as her phone beeped. “He already answered!” She exclaimed.

I kept my eyes glued to the cup in front of me, not daring to see her face light up as she saw his name and not mine.

“Smells good.” My brother’s voice carried into the kitchen. He opened the cabinet and grabbed a cup as well, waiting until I finished pouring my own before taking the pot.

“Feeling good, Sammy?” I threatened a laugh and he rolled his eyes.

“I haven’t been this hungover in ages.” He grabbed a bottle of Advil and returned to the table. “It was worth it though, you should have joined.”

I shrugged and took a sip of my coffee.

“Who are you texting?” Sam directed his question at Y/N, who still stood in the middle of the kitchen.

She looked at him and dangled the napkin in the air, “Remember that guy at the bar last night?”

“The really funny one?” He asked.

She nodded fervently, “Yeah, Matt. I got his number and we’re going to grab dinner tonight.”

Sam glanced at me, before returning his gaze to his breakfast.

“He’s a good guy.” Sam said. I think it was more to me, than Y/N.

“I bet.” I mumbled into my drink.

– – – –

Sam decided to watch a movie tonight.

“Batman?” I questioned. He wasn’t one for the superheroes.

He popped it into the disk slot and dropped onto the couch. Looking at his huge frame swallow up the furniture, I remembered being able to hold him in my arms.

“Last time Y/N picked, it’s your turn.” He said while pressing play.

“Good. Wouldn’t want one of your history documentaries to bore me to death, tonight.” I began to laugh and he rolled his eyes.

“Whatever.” He muttered and grabbed the bowl of popcorn he had prepared.

An hour into the movie, the bunker door swung open. The loud creak it made reminded me to oil it later.

“Y/N?” I called out her name. The heels she was wearing when she left were no longer on. Her bare feet padded against the hardwood floor until she finally reached us.

“How was it?” Sam asked, lowering the volume.

Her lips formed a fine line, “I’m just going to go shower.” She grabbed a fistful of popcorn before disappearing.

I looked at my brother. His brows were raised as he shook his head in confusion.

“I’ll go-” I sat up from the chair, “I’ll go check on her.”

Her door was shut. I raised my fist to knock, but she opened it before I got the chance.

“You walk loudly.” She stated. My lips formed at ‘O’.

“What was that about?” I motioned towards the other room with my thumb.

She shrugged and put her heels away in the closet.

“Sorry about that.” She looked up at me with her big, bold eyes, “I think Matt was a lot nicer when he was drunk.”

I crossed my arms and sat on the edge of her bed. “Huh?”

“Well, we ordered our food and everything was great. I mean finally, a break from hunting.” She explained, and I sighed.

She pulled her bouncy hair out from the pins it was in while she continued, “He was sweet at first, really. But I could tell something changed. Matt wanted more than what I did…”

My arms fell to my sides, “Did you leave?”

“Yeah, but that was only after he asked me four times to go back to his place.” She was on the floor, her legs bent underneath her. She dropped her hands onto the floor from frustration as she spoke.

“What a douchebag.” I stated, no other word was able to form itself. “You don’t deserve that.”

She looked up at me, and a smile formed itself against her cheeks.

“I’m gonna be single forever.” She joked. “I mean, who am I kidding?”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

From her spot on the floor, she reached out and gripped my leg with her hand. “Come on, Dean. We’re hunters. Let’s say it did work out with Matt – who’s to say he wouldn’t freak out the second that I brought him down into the bunker or told him that vampires are real!” Her grip tightened as she spoke, “It’s so fucking frustrating sometimes.”

“Dating is the worst.” I agreed with her.

“No.” She ran her hand down my leg and to my ankle, where she removed it.

I furrowed my brows and looked at her, every bit of me confused.

“Then what?”

“Being alone.” Her eyes dropped from mine and my chest suddenly felt heavy. I knew the feeling of being alone, too well. It was heartbreaking, yet familiar at the same time. It was relief, yet yearning.

“You got me.” I blurted out.

She got up from her spot on the floor by my legs, and situated herself on the bed so she sat next to me.

“I know that, Dean. I meant… more.” Y/N’s voice dwindled into a whisper. I turned my head to face her, and in that moment, I couldn’t lie to her.

“Exactly.” I stated, and her eyes first searched my face. They traveled from eye to eye as she thought of what I could possibly mean, until her lips parted.

I didn’t know what to expect. My heart hasn’t raced this fast since for someone else since high school. I either just started the relationship I had been waiting for, or ruined a friendship that was worth more to me than anything else.

I was so focused on her face that I hadn’t realized her hand found mine.

I wanted to keep her hand there, to squeeze it tight. But, Sam’s words found their way back into my head.

“I’m selfish.” I stated simply, standing up from the bed.

“What?”

“I’m being selfish, you deserve better.”

She tilted her head at me, her hair falling with it. “What are you talking about, Dean?”

“Everyone I touch, they-”

“I know what you’re going to say.” Y/N cut me off. “Don’t you dare say it.”

“They leave.”

“You know I’m not going to.” She stood up from the bed and walked up to me, placing her open palms on my chest. “I’m not just somebody.”

“That’s the point!” I exclaimed, voice rising. “You aren’t just somebody! What if something happened to you? I can’t let you get hurt.”

“You’re not my keeper, Dean.”

I laced my fingers around her wrists, holding her palms tightly against my chest. “From the first time you walked through those bunker doors, I wanted no one but you, and you know why I haven’t told you?”

She looked up at me through her lashes.

“I have been torturing myself every day, because I want you safe. I need you safe.”

For a few moments, no one said anything. Y/N just stared up at me with a look I had never seen before.

Then, she stood on her toes, and pressed her lips to mine.

And God, it was everything I thought it would be. She was warm and sweet, like honey. Her hands were squeezing at my waist and I knew right there that I was done for.

My hands traveled up to her neck, grazing every inch of her skin.

“Since the first day?” She teased, speaking slowly against my lips.

I laughed, “Since day one.” I affirmed and she smiled so wide that all I wanted to do was kiss every inch of her bubbly cheeks.

“How about we get dinner tonight, sweetheart.” I asked, hoping she was still hungry after the shit dinner she described with Matt.

“I’d love to.” Y/N’s fingers found mine and she led me out of her room.

Sam was still seated on the couch. His hand was glued to the remote and I could hear the channel being changed every other second. When we passed through, my hand still in hers, he raised his brows and stared at me.

“Woah, wait-” He called out behind us.

“We’ll be back soon!” Y/N called over her shoulder.

A smile remained on my face for the rest of the night, never faltering.

Be A Good Girl - Smut

Originally posted by hothothotgg

Author: @dumbass-stilinski
Rating: NSFW 18+
Pairing: Stiles Stilinski/Reader
Words: 4,294
AN: PURE FILTH. I apologize in advance. Thanks to @writing-obrien and @celestial-writing for their input and Chloe for worrying that I was killing the poor reader here. Trust me, she can handle it lmao.


To say that Stiles was a bit of an exhibitionist was an understatement. He liked to fuck you wherever and whenever he wanted, and he got off on the fact that you could be caught at any moment. It had surprised you at first, the normally sarcastic and awkward boy hadn’t struck you as the type, but he was kinky as fuck, and good at what he did. He could leave you a writhing, panting mess with just his words, and his mouth and tongue were more than you could handle sometimes. His fingers were a godsend, and he knew how to get you off quicker than you could do it yourself. On top of his insatiable daddy kink, things with him were never boring.

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bitter

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: fluff, smut, angst (the usual lol)

word count: 2.5k

description: living next to your ex boyfriend and having to listen to him with a new girl every night was annoying - but it’s okay cause you have taehyung.


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Unrequited (Peter Parker x Reader)

a/n: Okay, I’m not new to writing or anything but this IS my first post on this brand spanking new account! I hope you guys like it!

warning: lots of angst and all that

summary: reader pines after Peter, who doesn’t realize it as he’s infatuated with Liz



I can’t say my heart didn’t break a little more each and every time I caught Peter staring at or blushing over Liz Allen. She was so freaking gorgeous, and in all honesty perfect in every single way, except for her personality maybe. Even though Peter and I had been the best of friends for years, I could never compare to how much love and adoration he had for the girl, and it broke me every single day.

I sighed heavily, trying to shake the depressing thoughts from my mind as I continued walking to school. I don’t know how it happened and I wish it never had, but one day I just woke up and saw Peter in a whole new way. He had just come over to my apartment for our weekly movie night, which had been our tradition since we were little kids.

I heard a knock sound from the front door, signaling that my best friend was probably waiting on the other side.

“Come in Peter! The doors open!” I shook my head, since he should already know that after coming to my house countless of times.

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DÉPAYSEMENT | 05

| Fluff | Comedy | Smut | Slight Angst | Nerd!Hoseok | Braces!Hoseok

word count: 5k

❝ An engineering prodigy and your resident college loser, Jung Hoseok coerces you into teaching him the ways of the dating world. 

trigger warnings: bullying, mentions of suicide


“I don’t understand why we had to come here first, why couldn’t we all head to the field and meet there?” Jungkook huffs before throwing himself down on your couch.

Jimin only grins at the younger boy before shoving him playfully, “Yah. Your noona wanted you to stop by it’s the least you could do.”

Jungkook glares at him ruefully before turning to Yoongi, “You got roped in too?”

“Would I ever be around you people of my own free will?” Yoongi grumbles, his arms crossed in a pout but it doesn’t fully reach his eyes when he’s met with Taehyung’s smiling face.

“I brought company! I hope she doesn’t mind.” He smiles, offering Namjoon a seat next to him, he’s only partially startled when Yoongi’s foot stretches out, successfully kicking the chair before the younger boy can steal a sit next to Taehyung.

“Trade seats, I’m sitting closer to these rodents than my designated three feet rule allows.” Yoongi mutters but Taehyung’s heart does weird flip flops in his chest.

“So why are we all here?” Namjoon queries.

“You are all here because I’m doing Hoseok’s official unveiling.” You grin excitedly, jogging out of your bedroom long enough to check if everyone’s present. You frown, “Where’s Nayeon?”

At the exact moment Nayeon comes running in, toting several shopping bags before nearly collapsing on the kitchen table, panting and sweaty.

“Sorry! I’m late! But I’m here… I got caught up at the mall.” She grins sheepishly.

You match her smile for all its worth and almost miss the slightly disgruntled expression Jungkook is sporting. You swallow a sigh but not before sending him a stern look and a promise of addressing the issue later. But for now… for now you had other things to deal with.

You shuffle around with your phone before finding the perfect song and set it on the table, next to your Bluetooth speaker.

“Why are we listening to Sixpence?” Yoongi frowns at your theatrics.

“Have you never watched She’s All That?” You scoff at Yoongi’s blank expression, “If you must know peasant I’m paying tribute to the most iconic makeover unveiling in movie history. Now shut up so he can make his entrance.”

It takes but all of one minute to quiet the groaning room with an angry glare but they can’t help it not when you were so… corny.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” you begin theatrically, a grin tugging at your lips, “I’d like to present to you the new, not improved but different—Jung Hoseok.”

A pregnant pause followed your declaration and everyone stared expectantly at your bedroom door, but lo and behold no Hoseok was in sight.

“Hoseok you punk there almost at the,” You tapped your foot expectantly, “…. chorus.”

You finish lamely but in your defense Hoseok had finally made his grand entrance from your room and despite having been in there with him for the better part of the day, his transformation was still shocking to you because who knew that underneath all that he was—

“Blonde.” Taehyung says dumbly.

“Hot.” Nayeon grins.

“A work of goddamn art.” You agree.

Hoseok fidgets under close scrutiny but it doesn’t take away from the overall presentation you had cooked up on a small budget. It wasn’t much and you hadn’t been expecting Hoseok of all people to be able to make a black t shirt and some light wash jeans look like it came off the cover of a goddamn GQ spread but it worked. A lot of it had to do with the fact that you managed to shove his fat head under a dad cap and tweeze those godforsaken eyebrows. He wouldn’t go as far as to let you fill them in but he was at last wearing a moisturizer today.

Baby steps, you reminded yourself.

“Not bad.” Jimin muses before turning to you, “It’s actually really not bad, Jesus Christ what are you a fucking magician?”

You take a grandiose bow before turning to the silent participants in the room, cocking a brow at them and reaping Hoseok’s praise as though it were your own.

“You look completely unrecognizable.” Yoongi says, muttering a curse when Taehyung shoulder bumps him, “It’s a good thing, okay?”

“So you look like this,” Namjoon began slowly, “underneath all that… gross… and you choose to hide it because?”

“You’re all a bunch fucking critics, aren’t you?” Hoseok seethes.

You roll your eyes at him before turning to Jimin, “Are we all set to go?”

“Nayeon’s changing and she’ll be out.” Jungkook says closing her bedroom room, and you raised a brow at that because you hadn’t realized he had followed Nayeon into her room.

You had so many questions.

All of which took a backseat to the current stud sitting next to you so you shrugged and began collecting your purse to leave.


“You’re glaring.” Yoongi notes lightly as he pushes you further down the bench room for himself.

You school your features but not well enough that Yoongi doesn’t pick up on the snarl you barely bite back. It only takes a moment under close scrutiny for you to be turning to take it out on the nearest victim—it just so happened to be Jungkook.

“Close your fucking legs, Jeon do you think you own the entire goddamn bench?” You growl, glancing at his legs that were spread so wide his thigh was tucked firmly against your own.

“What are you even doing in the dug out? Go sit with the rest of the crowd.” He rolls his eyes at your outburst but obliges, turning to talk to Jimin and ignore you.

“Is there a reason you’re so testy?” Yoongi queries, raising both hands when you pin him with a look, “Not that you need one. I’m all for bitching at unsuspecting victims.”

“I’m not bitchi—you know what, never mind.” You scowl and Yoongi scoffs.

“Is it because you’re boyfriends garnering so much unwarranted attention?” Yoongi hums, “Because if you didn’t want that to happen then you shouldn’t have done such a good job. Though even I wasn’t expecting that kind of transformation from him of all people, Jesus.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” You snap, arms crossed.

“Is that why you’re mad?” Yoongi sing-songs.

You open your mouth to let out a biting remark but the words get caught in your throat when the sixth girl today in the span of an hour, approaches Hoseok, sat perched in the bed of Jeon’s truck with Taehyung and Namjoon. You had been sitting there too but after the first three girls approached him, one even using you under the guise of friendship when you took like one class with her sophomore year, you had been out quicker than Ellen Degeneres during Pride.

You really should be over there coaching him, because all things considered, he was still a nincompoop when it came to girls – unable to look them in the eye or not stammer, unless of course the girl was you then he’d tell you to fuck right off and stop irritating him.

Brat.

“I’m not mad,” you say, plastering on a fake smile and grateful for the sunglasses you had donned after his comment because at least he couldn’t see the the spiteful glare you were sporting.

And you ask yourself, not for the first time today why you’re feeling so… weird.

“Okay, I lied, I am mad.” You relent finally, “I’m mad because I did all of that and the brat still has the nerve to feel insecure as though he doesn’t look like the poster boy for orthodontists weekly.”

You said it through barely clenched teeth, praying you did a good enough job of not wearing your feelings on your forehead like an idiot. But if Yoongi noticed he either didn’t say anything or didn’t care enough to mention it. (It was more likely the latter).

“Speaking of which, here comes the cheese grater now.” Yoongi snickers at his own joke and true to his word a very flushed and frazzled Hoseok is making his way over to you.

You frown at his expression before asking the obvious.

“Are you okay?”

No. I’m not okay.” He hisses, before glancing down at Jungkook’s thigh which had found its way back to yours.

Why the hell wouldn’t he close his goddamn legs?

“What’s your deal?” You nod and watch as Hoseok exhales warily.

“Is this seat taken? No? Perfect!” He grimaces, shoving Jungkook’s legs closed before squeezing in between the two of you.

Jungkook glares at the older boy for a brief second before continuing his conversation with Jimin.

“I can’t do this.” Hoseok says harshly, pinning you with a scowl. Your reaction is delayed when you get caught up in his eyes, brows slashed down angrily and no longer playing the victim to a horribly overgrown fringe.

He had a really nice fucking forehead.

“D-do what?” You clear your throat, going to sip from your beer.

“This. Talking to them!” He says vehemently, gesturing to a pair of scantily clad girls leaning against the truck, he waves weakly at them when they brandish a grin in his direction. “I’m not a social person and they… are very forward?”

“Forward?” You squint your eyes at him with a frown.

“One of them grazed my dick when they put there hand on my thigh.” He hissed.

What?” You don’t realize your shouting until your lips already curled and Yoongi is cocking a brow at you. You clear your throat before averting your gaze, “I mean… that’s so rude?”

“Anyway, let me stay here,” he huffs out, “You’re really good at scaring people off.”

“Hey!” You cry out indignantly before narrowing your eyes at him, “No offense my guy but wasn’t that the whole point of this entire thing? Getting you laid? Those girls want you to fuck them. I can tell!”

“Okay that’s great but I’m nervous and I… I know as soon as I open my mouth it’s game over. They’ll ask me to eat their pussy and I’ll start nervously spewing out Overwatch facts.” He groans, “Besides! Aren’t you supposed to be helping me?”

“What the hell have I been doing the past two weeks? Twiddling my thumbs?” You whisper harshly, glancing over your shoulder to see if the boys had heard anything. But they all carry on obliviously save for Jungkook who hasn’t stopped glaring at you since you left the apartment.

“Look I’m just not ready for this yet,” Hoseok sighs, “I don’t think I have the confidence to really… talk to girls yet, much less go on a date or… fuck them. Is it okay if I just hang out with you for today?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose in exasperation but it’s no use feigning disappointment when a small voice in the back of your head is rejoicing at the prospect of having Hoseok to yourself.

Quit being weird, you chastise yourself.

“I won’t pressure you into anything you don’t want to do, you know that.” You sigh, “So if you want to sit here and drink cheap beer while listen to Jeon make fart jokes then by all means.”

Hoseok doesn’t say anything but he does visibly relax which is a good sign and for some reason you find yourself grasping at a conversation.

“So ugh,” you clear your throat, “how’s being a TA?”

Hoseok blinks at you as though he’s only just realized your talking to him before shrugging, “It’s fine I guess. I’m surrounded by idiots 24/7 but I at least get paid for it so I can’t complain.”

“And what you’re not surrounded by idiots when you hang out with us?” You snort.

“It’s different though,” Hoseok murmurs, nursing a beer. He squints his eyes thoughtfully, “Believe it or not I actually enjoy your guys’ company.”

“Well shit, I hope so – here I was thinking we were like friends and stuff.” You snort.

“Are we though?” He murmurs thoughtfully. “I mean, I’m not just inexperienced with girls. I’m sure it’s obvious but I don’t exactly draw in a lot of fans what with being you know, me and all.”

“Will you stop doing that?” You asked, suddenly annoyed at his self deprecating tone.

Hoseok jumps, startled by your outburst, “Doing what?”

“Being all like down on yourself and shit. It’s like pathetic,” you grumble defiantly, “You don’t need fans in life or people who’ll kiss your ass—you’re not an idol. Real people need real friends to make fun of them and like talk shit to them and stuff, you know?”

“Why are you always doing that?” He implores and you raise your gaze to his, only his expression isn’t one of defense, only pure curiosity lies in wait.

“The same reason you gave me that whole spiel about not giving up on life and shit.” You say, “Because friends talk shit to you and about you but they don’t kick you when you’re down and it really, really bugs me to hear you say stuff like that about yourself, yeah? Leave that to me.”

Hoseok stares at you for a beat too long, taking in the angry slant of your eyebrows and the way your lips purse in respite.

Hoseok’s cheeks burn red hot, tears pricking at his eyes and despite how they beg to be freed from their confines, to run wet tracks down his cheeks he doesn’t let them. His lips purse in an attempt to choke back a sob and he stares down at the linoleum weakly.

“What are you waiting for? Pick them up.” Someone snickers behind him.

He blinks down at his hands questioningly, because what was the point? The hallway seemed to be cloaked in a silence that screamed at him, despite the many people crowding the space.

His books lay scattered around him, and his chest hurt with an agony he was all too familiar with, the sheer overwhelming pity he felt for himself was almost debilitating. He cleared his throat to cover a sniffle, another weak attempt at biting back tears before he’s moving to collect his belongings.

He’s barely on his feet again before they’re being knocked out of his hands with too much force.

A crowd was forming now, and he closes his eyes to try and block out the whispers, the looks of pity because despite how bad everyone felt no one was willing to help. No one ever helped. It was all the same to them, he was there for their entertainment.

And not for the first time, he wondered why.

Why he kept trying. Why he didn’t end it all when he would lay awake at night with a sadness that brought him to his knees. Why he was deemed so unworthy of kindness by people that barely knew him. Why he pushed through when he knew nothing but bruises that pierced deeper than skin and a crippling sadness that only his shower walls would ever hear.

Why, why, why, why me?

“Stop it!”

Hoseok is too dazed, too caught up with disgust and the need to shed his skin, to vomit a sickness that knew no cure.

His heart hurt.

“I said stop!”

When he looks up again it’s you, the girl from the locker the other day and you’re… crying.

Your eyes are bloodshot and your chest is heaving. He wants to know why. He wants to tell you you’re too pretty, even blubbering, lips quivering. You’re too pretty to cry, too pretty to be on your knees, but he’s overwhelmed. By everything, by the silent on lookers, by the almost painful embarrassment.

He barely realizes you’re shoving books back into his bag for him, before you swipe at your nose and drag him along by the wrist. He doesn’t have the mind to ask questions until you’re out in the courtyard, it’s the middle of classes so it’s empty, save for a few stray butterflies that linger.

His feet hesitate by the fountain and you stumble by the sudden halt, turning to face him inquisitively.

“Why are you always doing that?” He whispers, jerking his hand back from yours.

“D-doing what?” You stammer.

“That. Back there.” He says, jaw clenching, “Why do you keep helping me? Why do you care?”

“Because I’m human,” you say indignantly, “and so are you – not a dog to be made to sit and roll over why don’t you act like it?”

“You think I haven’t tried?” His lip curls in disgust, “What would you know anyway, you’re just some stupid cheerleader, you’re just like the rest of them.”

“Really? Because I didn’t see the rest of them stepping into help you!”

“I didn’t ask for your help!” He yells back.

“You didn’t have to!” You say over him, and tears are rolling down freely, “I helped you because it hurt to see you like that! Maybe everyone else can look away but I can’t! Tell the principle, tell your parents, fuck tell anyone! But don’t… don’t take that.”

And just like that your lip is quivering again, only he doesn’t get a chance to see the tears fall this time because you’re storming off, leaving him there to stare after you.

Hoseok blinks himself back to consciousness when he catches sight of your fingers snapping a hairsbreadth from his face, trying to garner his attention.

“Don’t look now but more of your admirers are headed over.” You say quietly and Hoseok visibly stiffens.

“What do I do?” He whispers harshly.

You bite your lip in concentration, debating the consequences of your action before finally relenting when they neared the dug out. You were a flurry of motion that Hoseok’s sluggish, intoxicated brain couldn’t keep up with – but suddenly you were dropping yourself into his lap, his legs spreading on instinct, you grip his frozen arms until they wrapped around you begrudgingly.

“What are you doing?” He hisses.

“Getting those girls off your back,” you scoff, but you have to crane your neck back to speak to him and he suddenly realizes just how pretty your throat is—why could he never tell before now?

“Hey Hoseok,” one of the girls begins timidly, trying to catch a glimpse of him from in back of your body.

“Uh…. hey hi,” he clears his throat.

“You just left us over there with your friends.” The shorter girl pouts and you roll your eyes.

“Yeah sorry I—”

“He’s kind of busy.” You say brightly, leaning back until your back was pressed to his chest, Hoseok grunts over the unexpected weight. “Did you need something?”

“Oh I… sunbae… sorry,” the tall brunette clears her throat as though she’s just noticed that your sitting dead center on top of Hoseok. You frown when you recognize her from one of your economics courses, “I didn’t realize you… and he… were—”

“For tonight we are.” You shrug, gesturing towards Namjoon, deciding to throw him a bone, “but that guys free over there, I hear he drives a Range Rover, you should chat him up.”

The brunette smiles brightly, if a little bit nervously at you but grips the shorter girls arm, dragging her along but not before she withers you with a narrowed glare. You cock a brow at her audacity before she’s turning around with a huff.

Sunbae?” Hoseok queries from behind you, and you barely conceal a shiver when you feel how closely he’s speaking to your ear, his breath smells like beer but when you try to pull back his grip tightens around you.

“Yeah,” you say indignantly, “I know I’m not shit in the science world but I’m in a league of my own in my major.”

“I can see that being true,” he nods, lips turning down, “You’re good at what you do. Just look at how you made me over.”

You try to ignore the fact that his arms are still glued to your waist, hands going to clasp just over your mid section, but it’s hard and he smells so good.

“I had a good base to work with,” you hum, going to sip at your beer and feigning nonchalant.

“Is that a compliment from the ice queen herself?” Hoseok snorts, hooking his chin over your shoulder and your thankful not for the first time that he can’t see your reaction.

“Not a compliment. Just the truth.” You murmur, “Your friends are long gone you know, there’s no need for me to sit here anymore.”

“Mm,” he hums, “so get off then.”

You don’t say anything, just take another sip of your beer, but Hoseok hears your answer loud and clear.

“For someone who’s nervous with girls you sure do seem to feel awfully comfortable with me.” You chastise, watching the field carefully when Nayeon makes an appearances.

“It’s because I know I don’t have a shot,” he shrugs impishly and you know he’s smirking even without looking at him, “It makes it a lot less scary when you have nothing to lose going in.”

“Who says you didn’t have a shot?” You ask, but it’s followed by a startled yelp when a cheer erupts from the bleachers, a bunch of drunk frat guys parading onto the field naked and covered in paint.

“The universe.” He snorts.

“You underestimate yourself.” You note.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” He queries, a hesitant hand going to rest on your thigh. He doesn’t know where the burst of confidence came from. Maybe it’s from the beer, maybe it’s from the new clothes, or maybe it’s from the way your stares seem to linger these days—whatever it is you don’t reject his touch either way.

“Exactly what it sounds li—”

“Hey lard ass,” someone calls from above you and you turn your head to glare at Jeon Jungkook, “Nayeon scored the winning point, we’re all heading to the bar are you coming or what?”

“I’m coming, you insufferable little brat.” You hiss.

Jungkook stands there when you don’t move right away, you raise an eyebrow at him.

“What?” You scowl.

“Is that the only seat?” He queries, lip curling, “Is it proper for you to be like that?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“What would your parents say if they saw you sitting like that, huh?” He asks, eyes wide as he gestures to your seat on Hoseok’s lap.

Your face flushes deep before you stand up and glare at him, “Are you really scolding me on propriety? You of all people.”

“Yes and so what?” He says, chest puffing or indignantly. He takes a cautious step back before pointing an accusing finger at you, “And sit with your legs closed!”

He ducks when you go to hit him, sticking his tongue out before he races clear across the field and out of your violent reach.


“One more round!” Jimin shouts, shoving a shot glass in your hand.

You lift your head from the table long enough to flick Jimin off, all he does is grin while you groan and lay your head on Nayeon’s shoulder.

“Rock, paper, scissors over who gets to kill him.” You say to Nayeon.

She points a drunken finger at your face, “we… can’t… kill him ’s illegal.”

“It’s self defense. We have to kill him before he tries to poison us—alcohol poison us!” You shout desperately.

“You guys are all pussies!” Jungkook yells, ever the bravado drunk. Hoseok barely keeps him in his seat, halting him from clambering onto the table top, to make what you were assuming he thought was a profound speech—for the umpteenth time that night.

“Hyung,” Jungkook slurs, clapping a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder, “I once finished a twelve pack of beer in one sitting and that was, before the Hoover game, I even broke the QB record at our school that day.”

“Was anyone there to see it?” Namjoon asks, sipping at what had to be the girliest drink you’ve ever seen in your entire life—it was fuschia and he was sipping it through one of those skinny black straws.

Fucking weirdo.

“No, it was just me but I swear it happened!” Jungkook yelled vehemently.

“Dude,” Namjoon sighs, “in life, whatever you do, it doesn’t count if your friends aren’t there to witness it.”

“I second that.” Jimin says, raising another shot glass to his lips. It pisses you off how sober he still is when he drank twice as much as you.

“Why aren’t you fucking drunk?” You scowl.

“On the contrary I’m very much fucked,” he says, “I’m what the people call… a functioning alcoholic.”

“Let’s play another game!” Taehyung whines from his spot.

“Let’s fucking not because you’re all a bunch of dirty cheaters!” You hiss, gesturing to the table.

“You’re just saying that because you lost every single time.” Namjoon rolls his eyes, “I even won once.”

“I won a game too.” Taehyung pipes up.

“Me too.” Hoseok shrugs.

“Great,” Yoongi mutters from the inside of the booth, “You’ve each won a game and I’ve lost what feels like a year off my life spending time with you people—we’re all going home winners tonight.”

“I want a recount!” You say.

“There’s no recount in Most Likely.” Jimin points out. “If we find you most likely to do something we point at you, the person with the most fingers pointed at them has to drink.”

“Yes, and every single time you threw out a sentence I had to drink—does it make sense that I would be most likely to do all of the things that were named?” You growl.

“One of them was most likely to win in a cage fight amongst the eight of us, so yes it does make sense.” Yoongi snickers.

“I have a better propositions you limp noodles.” Jungkook says from his spot and all seven of you turn your attention to the drunken boy, “Body shots.”

“There’s two girls and six guys.” Hoseok snorts, “Don’t you think the ratios a bit uneven.”

“Okay shut the fuck up with your math lingo first of all—”

“Ratio isn’t just a math word, dumbass.”

“—second of all two of the six are gay so they don’t count.”

“What makes you think I want to do a body shot off of any of you animals?” Yoongi sneers.

“Because who the fuck wouldn’t want to do a body shot off these smokin’ abs?” Jungkook scoffs.

“I’m in.” You say suddenly, garnering six wide eyed looks.

“Are you serious?” Nayeon giggles, “You queen of ball busting are gonna let one of these morons do a shot off you?”

“It’s all in good fun, right?” You say, catching Hoseok’s eye before turning back to her.

“If you do it then I’ll do it too.” She grins.

“Well I’m out,” Yoongi grunts, “you vagina baring cretins can have at it.”

“Me too.” Taehyung shrugs before sending an apologetic look that you and Nayeon both wave off, “Not my cup of tea.”

“Not your cup of tea or not your cup of genitalia?” Jimin snickers, earning a flush Taehyung. “You all know my answer – I never mind an extra chance to get my lips—”

Disgusting.” You cut him off.

“As much as I would love to lick any part of anyone’s body right now, I gotta run.” Namjoon sighs, before brandishing a notification on his phone, “Duty calls.”

“Are you gonna be okay to drive?” You frown.

“Dude I’ve been sipping cosmopolitans since we got here, I’m pretty sure I’d pass every sobriety test ever.” He rolls his eyes before waving his goodbye.

“And then there were three.” Jungkook says, clapping his hands together, “That is assuming your game?”

His question was directed at Hoseok who seemed to be staring off into space unknowingly. The older boy clears his throat and meets Jungkook’s challenging stare—it annoys him for some reason, and has him sitting up straighter with a curt nod.

“Great,” Jimin says, breaking the tense atmosphere, “Since there’s three of us and two of them, rock, paper, scissors.”

You watch on in silent amusement as they go through three rounds of the game, each boy eyeing the other with a competitive glare, it isn’t until the third game when Jimin’s eliminated that Hoseok meets your eyes.

You take a long gulp of beer to try and hide the flush burning bright on the apples of your cheeks, only hesitating a little when Nayeon drags you to your feet.

“Where do you want it Jeon?” Jimin asks when he comes back baring a tray, brandishing small ramekin of salt, two shots and lime wedges. He’s standing in front of Nayeon when he’s asks the question.

“I’ll do it.” He says, rising to unsteady feet when he grabs the ramekin from Jimin—

And heads straight to you.

You stare at him wide eyed when he goes to drag a finger through the salt, “What are you doing?”

“My body shot.” He shrugs, before sprinkling the salt all down the front of the v in your t shirt. You can’t even glare at him because you were still trying to catch up with his thought process.

“So go do it over there.” You hiss, letting out a small yelp when he plops a lime in your mouth to shut you up.

“Maybe I want something different.” He says, breath fanning over your face due to his close proximity.

You clench your jaw but frown when a little of the lime juice dribbles into your mouth down your chin. You chance a glance at Hoseok but the older boy looks well engrossed in his preparations, allowing Jimin the honors of setting Nayeon up for him while he rubs a hand over his neck awkwardly.

A finger on your chin has you returning your gaze back to Jungkook who’s looking at you with a glint in his eye you weren’t entirely comfortable with.

Your comfortability takes a backseat when the audacious brat goes to shove his shot glass between your breasts, a small smirk quirking at the sides of his lip.

“Ready?” Jimin calls, before patting a hand on either boys shoulder, “Remember this is race – the partner of the loser has to take a penalty shot. Got it?”

Both of them nod and Jungkook tongues at his cheek cockily, making you roll your eyes. You drag one last look at Nayeon and Hoseok who seem to be in their own little world, deep in conversation.

What the hell were they even talking about anyway?

“On your marks. Get set,” Jimin begins, “Go.”

Jungkook’s hand find purchase on your waist and your attention is drawn back to the boy in front of you, his head dips to press a lascivious if unnecessary kiss to your right breast before his tongue is swiping over the sensitive skin, your tummy dips at the sensations. But then his lips are roaming down your cleavage before his mouth is working on sucking back the shot glass and finally he’s setting it down with less haste than someone in a competition should be allowed. Two wide palms come up to cup your face while his lips find yours in a sour kiss, the lime wedge between your teeth drops when your jaw goes slack and Jungkook is swiping up the juice at the corner of your lips with his tongue.

Time seems to slow with his mouth on you like this and you find yourself kissing him back, forgetting for the briefest moment who he was, who you were and where the hell you were at. All that mattered was the way his belly seemed to clench under your hesitant hands and his mouth worked over yours.

But all too soon it was coming to an end and when you pull back Jugkook is panting and Jimin is grinning at the both of you.

“What an unexpected turn of events,” he snickers, but you don’t have half a mind to insult him. Instead you’re still blinking at Junkook who licks at his lips like he’s trying to preserve the taste of you there.

Jimin rolls his eyes, “Alright love birds, as wonderful as that show was, you lost – so take your shot like a big girl.”

His words bring you back to focus and your gaze shoots back to Hoseok, only his features are schooled in a composed mask and he’s carrying on a conversation with Taehyung as though nothing out of the ordinary just happened. As though you made out with Jeon Jungkook on a regular fucking basis.

Jimin shoves at your shoulder when you don’t respond right away and you stare down at the shot glass for a moment before someone else is grabbing it out of his hand. Your eyes lift to Jungkook and the way the column of his throat works when he throws it back, not even wincing from the burn of tequila.

He sniffs before swiping at his lower lip, “’s my fault we lost anyway.”

Jimin cocks a brow between the two of you, “Jeon Jungkook taking a penalty shot for someone else? This is a first.”

“Fuck off.” He rolls his eyes before he gathers his car keys and phone, “I have two a days tomorrow so I gotta be heading out before coach rips me a new one for showing up hung over again.”

He’s already to turning to leave when your hand shoots out to grip his wrist (without out your fucking consent.) Jungkook raises an eyebrow at the limb before you’re letting go, swiping your hands down your jeans nervously.

“I… uhh… you,” you shake your head, “Are you gonna be okay to drive?”

“Are you worried?” He grins.

You scoff at that, “No but it’d be mighty inconvenient to have to plan your funeral during mid terms.”

“I’ll be fine, Princess.” He tsks and for the first time in…. well ever, you find Jeon Jungkook attractive in a way that might just be worthy of contracting a minor STI.

Hoseok watches the entire exchange from his post in the booth, and for some reason a feeling of unease is clawing at his stomach.

He hadn’t anticipated Jungkook doing a body shot off you because well why would he? But the more Hoseok thought about it was more like – why the hell wouldn’t he?

You were gorgeous and you had a body that men would kill for the chance to worship, and it only set you that much further from himself. Paranoia and self doubt find their way back into his brain, where they’ve made a home for themselves, reminding Hoseok to take heed, remember his place, always remember where he stood with you. It was only made worst by the look that Jungkook sends you when he rubs an apologetic hand over your hipbone before bidding you adieu.

The action nags at Hoseok more than should and he finds himself shooting to unsteady feet before his mind has caught up with him. You yelp at the sudden action and catch him before he goes tumbling off the platform the booth is sat a top.

“Alright there, big guy?” You grin, holding him steady, and you pat a patronizing hand over his belly, “Let’s get some food in you and get you home, yeah?”

“I don’t need any fucking food,” he scoffs, annoyed by your sudden caring behavior.

Is that all you saw him as? As someone who needed to be looked after, cared for, handled with kid gloves? Did you not see him as a man, because fuck… fuck if it didn’t feel like it sometimes. When your touches or your glanced would linger he was able to delude himself into thinking that maybe you had wanted him too—when you were at the field and in his lap he thought that maybe… maybe there was something there but—

Leave it to him to read to deep into something that meant nothing to you. In fact, the thought itself angered him, had him flushing with embarrassment.

“I don’t need to fucking go home and especially not with the likes of you.” He sneered, breaking out of your grip irritably.

You call out to him but he’s already made it across the bar, storming off angrily. To his credit he makes it exactly two feet from you before he’s collapsing, the evidence of his low tolerance catching up to him, making his legs wobble unsteadily and the room spin before his eyes.

The last thing he sees is you rushing to his side before everything’s going black and he falls into a deep sleep.


There’s a pounding in his head that just won’t seem to stop, and Hoseok probably could have done without the sour taste on his tongue, every inch of his body is screaming at him to go back to sleep but he’s already penetrated the first barrier and all dredges of slumber leave him, instead nausea and indigestion take its place.

Hoseok rubs at his eyes with the back of his hands, trying to discern his current location, but alas they’re all failed attempts when he realizes the room is pitch black.

He’s just about to get up and investigate when a sliver of light breaks through a crack in the door and your silhouette appears before him.

“Morning sunshine,” you whisper, and he can barely make you out but he can tell that you’ve changed into pajamas and if he squints just enough he can see pink tinged cheeks on a freshly scrubbed face.

“What time is it?” He croaks, annoyed at the revelation that all liquor from earlier has yet to leave his body, courtesy of the woozy feeling in his stomach.

“It’s four am,” you explain, “you weren’t asleep very long but you blacked out at the bar and I told Jimin to just take us here. He’s crashed out on the couch with Taehyung.”

“Oh,” he says before trying to stand, wincing when a wave of vertigo knocks him back on his ass.

“Chill out dude.” You say before diving into the confines of your bed, your body relaxing against the cool duvet.

“I’ll just… I’ll show myself out,” he clears his throat. He hesitates when your grip on his t shirt yanks him back down to your mattress.

“Don’t try and be a martyr tonight, will you?” You sigh, “Just relax.”

How the hell did you expect him to relax when he was laying next to you? Smelling like heaven and looking like sin. Your sleep shorts did little to hide the plump curve of your ass, and your tank top was so low he could make out the beginnings of a hickey—reminding him why he had stormed off in the first place.

Jeon fucking Jungkook.

“What part of relax is lost on you?” You ask, turning on your side to face him, and alternatively giving him a better view of your cleavage. “Never had a co-ed sleepover before?”

“Do I look like I’ve had a co-ed sleepover before?” He snorts.

“Here we go again,” you sigh, looking up at him from under your lashes, “Do you mind telling me why you’re always so down on yourself?”

“You mean other than the obvious?” He scoffs.

“I’m serious I mean, you’re in the top 1% of the country, you’re about to be rich if you think about the fact that you’ll succeed in whatever field you’re about to pursue and now Hoseok, you’re hot.” You say and he tries to ignore the way his cheeks flush at your compliment. “Even when you dressed the way you did before you were still handsome I just don’t see why—”

“Why what? Why I have such a low fucking self esteem?” He snaps, before rising to his elbows to glare at you, “Why are you always pushing this why can’t you ever mind your own business?”

“Because you are my business. We’re friends and—”

You said we were friends, I never agreed to any of it.” He grits out and he doesn’t miss the flash of hurt that crosses your features, even in the dim light of your bedroom.

You stare at him for a beat before letting out an annoyed huff and turning on your side, actively blocking him out. Hoseok sighs before carding a hand through his hair, frustrated.

“___.. I… Didn’t mean that I—”

“Of course you did.” You laugh bitterly, “Because no matter how much I think we’re progressing you’re always there to remind me that this is just a debt owed. That every time you spend time with me is purely obligatory with only your end goal in sight.”

“Well why the hell would you want to hang out with me otherwise?” He scowls, “It doesn’t make sense.”

“It doesn’t have to make sense. But don’t worry because I heard your message loud and clear: I won’t bother you unless it’s related to getting you laid.”

“____,” he groans, “that’s not what I meant!”

You turn back to face him, angrily, eyebrows slashed down in a frown as you glared at him. Even then you still looked beautiful, like a really pissed of fairy laying next to him with the moonlight draping over your fine features.

“I’m going to sleep.” You say, shutting your eyes.

Hoseok rubs at the back of his neck, wondering how he managed to wind up in this position – with you, always with you. And for someone so smart, he didn’t understand anything these days, you had a special way of efficiently fucking him up, confusing him until he was grasping at strings for reason.

The silence in the room was deafening, the only thing keeping him from slipping out was the way you seemed to be pouting, even with your eyes closed and it was so fucking endearing to him. It had his drunken mind reaching to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear—the move was so intimate and uncalled for even to him, so he wasn’t all that surprised when your eyes shot open at the gentle caress.

Hoseok clears his throat, looking for something, anything to say when his hand is frozen in mid-air.

“My parents,” he blurts out.

“Huh?” You whisper with a frown.

“They’re really ,,, demanding,” he explains and when he starts he can’t seem to stop, “you know how you said they’re assholes? Well they’re worst than that, asshole is too nice a word to describe them. They’re really unfeeling, cold, clinical with everything—including their kids.”

“Oh.” You say.

Because really what could you say?

“Yeah oh,” he agrees, “I don’t mind being an engineer, I like it, I like math and science and I like making robots but even that… it bothers them. There’s no time for recreational things, for fun. It’s all about work to them.”

“You build robots?” You implore.

“I find time for it.” He shrugs, “it relaxes me, a lot like dancing but I don’t really have time for either these days.”

Your hand finds his way to his cheek and he lets you soothe over the skin there, acting as though the alcohol is urging on both of your actions. His hand goes up to catch yours, but he leaves it there.

And you both pretend. For now.

“Will you ever let me watch you dance?” You hum, smoothing one of his sideburns gently, and Hoseok lets his eyes flutter shut, “You’ve piqued my interest and now I just feel like you’re doing it on purpose—leaving me waiting with bated breath.”

He chuckles but it’s short lived and suddenly he staring at your lips. “I’ve been too busy for anything that’s not work or school related. I haven’t found anytime to go the studio.”

“Let me tag along when you go,” you yawn, letting Hoseok’s fingers lace with your own.

“I will.” He replies.

“Promise?” You query, but you’re fighting sleep, your eyes are heavy and begging for you to give in to the temptation of a good eight hours of rest.

You never do hear a reply because you’re already dead asleep in a matter of seconds.

Hoseok stares at your sleeping figure for longer than is necessary, taking in the silent rise and fall of your chest, to the soft skin of your cheeks. He waits a beat before letting his finger catch on your lower lip, to swipe there. So lush and full and bruised red with your natural tint.

How is anyone this pretty when they sleep?

It’s but a moment before your own hand is going up to grip his wrist and he freezes with the realization that you’re doing it to keep it there instead of push him away. A sigh leaves him as he watched the way your lashes are fanned down against your cheeks.

So beautiful it hurts.

“You’re too good for me,” he says, but he knows I falls on deaf ears, “in more ways than one. You always were too good for me, even back then. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

He stares at you longingly, checking to make sure if your breathing is still even, to see if he should date carry on. He makes the decision with a small smile when a soft snore leaves you.

“Back then you felt like an angel—it’s corny, right?” He whispers, his hand going to push the hair back from your face, “but you were the only good thing I had going for me. Even now, none of this feels real. I hope you’ll forgive me when you find out the truth, I won’t try and keep it from you. I hope you understand that I needed to be with you like this, even just once.”

A mumble of words slip past your lips and Hoseok is frozen stiff by the thought that you might have heard his confession, but you don’t say anything in reply only continue to mutter on about a toaster before you shuffled closer to him and shoved your hands up his shirt.

Hoseok cringed when he felt your frozen skin press against his own and he gently tugs them out from underneath his t shirt before he’s warming them with his own, coaxing you back down from the surface and into a deeper state of sleep. He lets you curl into him, even if he knows it’s only for his body heat, he would take whatever he could get.

Obligatory cuddling was still cuddling after all.


a/n: this chapter was really hard to write for me. i know i mentioned being bullied growing up but a lot of the feelings expressed are things that ive dealt with the loneliness/desperation and i hope if any of u feel like that u feel comfortable enough to talk to me about. that’s all ok ❤️

His || Jungkook || 0.10

Member: Jungkook x Reader

Type: Angst, Fluff, Smut.

Teaser | 0.1 | 0.2 | 0.3 | 0.4 | 0.5 | 0.6 | 0.7 | 0.8 | 0.9 | 0.10 

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