why out of them all you have to throw that at my baby's feet

cocked & loaded [dwayne johnson/vin diesel]

okay, so if i were to write the academy award-winning and world peace-establishing screenplay where Dwayne “the Rock” Johnson and Vin Diesel slowly fall in love, this is what it would look like:

  • vin and dwayne would be bitter Rival Agents for an intelligence agency. both would be up for a Big Promotion.  they would both be working together (but against each other) on something something black market mafia.  the mafia would be involved.  they would be VERY CLOSE to cracking this case.  
  • whoever cracks the case gets the promotion! because things like this are always very clear-cut in movies.  and whoever gets the promotion is the Better Agent, and it’s settled forever.
  • what they don’t expect is when they finally go in to make the Big Bust on The Family is that the Big Players will still be at large–and there will be a BABY.  
  • the baby will fall into agency custody, and will require surveillance in a remote safehouse.
  • “i need YOU TWO to pretend and be this baby’s GAY DADS to protect the baby and keep The Family off our tail while we close in on them,” says Head Intelligence Captain Lupita Nyong’o.  
  • dwayne and vin and baby are begrudgingly moved to a suburb of provincetown, massachusetts. cut to shot of a FOR SALE sign being pulled down, a ford fusion hybrid pulling up behind a moving van.  dwayne and vin step out.  they are both wearing muscle shirts and mirror-lensed aviators.  dwayne grabs a baby bag, throws it over his shoulder.  vin grabs the car seat out of the back, and both of them walk-slow motion up the side walk to their new 800k beach house.  
  • here’s what they expect: passive aggressive co-existence for a couple of weeks, where they try to be the Better Dad in a bid for the promotion they both want.  dwayne will go jogging with the baby every morning!! vin will wear her in a sling when he goes to the farmer’s market and smiles at the vendors while feeling up avocados and selecting fresh caught filets of fish!! 
  • here’s what they don’t expect: their next door neighbors are going to be Channing Tatum and Idris Elba and their five beautiful, interracial babies.  they are the perfect Gay Family, but “also,” dwayne says, pushing vin inside from where he’s been grilling steaks and drinking MILLER out of a CAN in broad daylight for the Real Gay Family to see and call over from their patio!!! “these guys are the REAL DEAL.  they’re gonna know something’s up!  i know we’ve had our beef, but we gotta step our game up and work together if we’re gonna make this operation work.”  
  • “you’re right,” vin says.  he’s nodding, looking at a ground, but then up and meeting dwayne’s gaze. “you’re RIGHT.” they’re gonna make this partnership work!!! they are going to be the BEST GAY DADS.
    • CUT TO: vin and dwayne staring at the king sized mattress in the master bedroom.  “i can just–” vin says, but dwayne grabs him by the shoulder and shakes it playfully.  “no man,” he says. “it’s all in or nothing.” 
    • CUT TO: them jogging together with baby playfully squealing from her stroller early in the morning.  
    • CUT TO: vin playfully feeding dwayne grapes at the farmer’s market.  “it’s all or nothing,” he repeats, raising his eyebrows (???? eyebrow folds? idk man). dwayne rolls his eyes and TAKES THE BITE.  
  • CUT TO: channing tatum in monogrammed shorts and pink polo and boat shoes on their front door step with one of his many perfect, precious toddlers on his shoulders, asking them to dinner.  “uh yeah,” dwayne says, cool as a cucumber. he’s not freaking out (he’s totally freaking out!!).  “we’ll bring the wine.”
  • “we’ll bring the wine?” vin repeats, in a hushed voice so the neighbors and baby don’t hear them fighting. “do you know anything about wine? they probably have a second house in france!  i haven’t had anything that didn’t come from a box since–since ever! what were you thinking?” “i panicked!  it seemed like the right thing to say!” 
    • TIRES SCREECH as the ford focus hybrid drifts into the whole foods parking lot.  
  • they show up out of breath, foreheads glistening, with baby in her favorite babybjorn, feet kicking from the day’s excitement of wine shopping.  vin, wheezing, passes a bottle of red and a bottle of white.
    • “oh, a chateau coutet barsac,” idris says with a chuckle, showing the label to channing. “remember that time–?” and oh my GOD, they have inside jokes!! 
    • (”we don’t have any inside jokes!!” dwayne whispers when they immediately excuse themselves halfway through a tour of the house. “that’s because you are the least funny person i know!” vin replies. “god, i hate you!!!” they both probably hiss at each other.)
  • the worst and best part of the night is when they’re serving the roast veg salad, and channing says with the best intentions, “so, how did you two meet?”
    • “uh,” vin says.
    • “the gym,” dwayne says. which, actually turns out to be true.  they look at each other, smile soft and genuine for once at each other, REMEMBERING. before they were BITTER RIVALS, they met at the academy gym and were GYM BUDDIES.  they used to have FUN trying to beat each other’s PR on the treadmill, they used to LOVE shit talking each other when they spotted each other bench pressing, they used to snap towels at each other’s asses in the locker room and totally not check each other out or anything!!! and then they were both accepted to the same position at work and they stopped being friendly for whatever reason.  they stop smiling, they look away from each other.  “anyway.”
    • “we met building houses for habitat for humanity,” idris offers, because of COURSE THEY DID.
  • the second worst part of the night is when channing mentions during the dessert course that two weeks from now is the annual May Day Homeowner’s Neighborhood Block Party Crab Cookoff, and maybe dwayne and vin would like to host to get to know everyone else in the neighborhood! 
  • vin has had like, three more glasses of wine than everyone else, and with aid of liquid confidence, shrugs his shoulders and leans back in his chair and says, “yeah, man, we’d love to.”
    • “’yeah, man, we’d love to?’” dwayne repeats when they’re walking home, baby asleep in her bjorn. 
    • “sorry, did you want me to give ourselves away? what happened to being the best? we’re trying to be believable!” 
    • “yeah,” dwayne says, watching vin strip off his shirt and pants and toss them over his shoulder into their spare hamper before crawling into their bed.  it’s routine.  they both have their sides of the bed.  “believable.”
    • the bedroom is quiet as they face away from each other at the edges of the mattress.  eventually dwayne asks, “do you remember why we stopped being friends?”
    • for a second he thinks maybe vin’s gone to sleep.  but he turns over.  “no,” he says.  “or yeah, maybe. as soon as i realized we would both be seeing action, it became too much of a risk.  friendship.  it was easier to lose you as a friend on my terms than lose you as a friend because you got your dumbass killed.”
    • they decide to be friends again.  you know, for the baby.  for work. whatever.  
  • they get so caught up in planning the May Day Homeowner’s Neighborhood Block Party Crab Cookoff, making inside jokes and ignoring the increasing casual physical intimacy between them that they don’t realize they are BEING WATCHED.
  • the mafia is HERE and they want their BABY and they want dwayne and vin DEAD.  
  • the M.D.H.N.B.P.C.C happens and everything is going according to plan, and they are about to have dwayne judge the bisque portion of the competition, but no one has seen dwayne anywhere!!!!
  • are there warehouses in provincetown??? is there a bad part of provincetown??? anyways, that’s probably where the mafia took dwayne.  vin is FREAKING OUT, how does he save dwayne??? how does he protect the baby, who they are using dwayne as ransom for??? who will judge the bisque portion of the crab cookoff???
  • idris puts a hand on his shoulder.  he’s been watching the entire time.  “i’ll take the baby into our panic room–” OF COURSE THEY HAVE A PANIC ROOM, “and channing will judge the bisque portion of the crab cookofff.  you go save your man.”
  • CUT TO: vin getting geared up to go out and kick some mafia ass, entering their walk-in closet and grabbing GUNS and a BULLET PROOF VEST and lacing up his L.L BEAN MEN’S GORETEX LEATHER BOOTS.  
  • vin takes out the entire warehouse-or-whatever of mafia lackeys and comes across dwayne tied up and blindfolded.
  • “who’s there!” dwayne demands, like he’s ready to fight despite himself.  vin takes three strong steps forward and grabs him by the back of the head and pulls him in for a kiss.  “guess who,” he replies.  dwayne smiles.
  • just then the Final Boss shows up as dwayne is being untied and like, something dramatic happens or whatever, but it’s okay.  they die or go to jail or something, it doesn’t really matter, because dwayne and vin are in LOVE and they’re gonna adopt the hell out of that baby.
  • CUT TO: a month later.  Head Intelligence Captain Lupita Nyong’o is disappointed when vin won’t accept his promotion.  
  • “i would,” he says, heavily decorated for saving dwayne in the field and taking down the mafia family.  “but the code of conduct says that it would be a conflict of interest if i was my husband’s supervisor.” BAM! THE END.  THEY’RE MARRIED.  WORLD PEACE UNLOCKED.   DONALD TRUMP IMPEACHED.  EVERYONE LIVES HAPPILY EVER AFTER.
about last night (m)

Originally posted by hohbi

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: enemies to lovers | explicit smut, fluff and angst

length: 15k

summary: you had promised yourself; if you were to ever hook up with that asshole park jimin, it would be just a one night stand.

a/n: dis was a monster to write im so tired. i stayed up until 12pm to finish this and now its finally done :) also how does every new fic i write get dirtier and dirtier?? idk. 

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Beard Burn

Characters: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve likes to grow his beard out between missions, and you think its sexy.  He wants to know why you think so, then he gets turned on. (it’s just smut)

A/N: inspired by the goddamn soft!bearded!steve board.  y’all….just let me live. also i need to learn how to title things.  i called it fucking “beard burn.” @ myself come on…

Warnings: oral sex (fr), language

Words: 2148

Tags: @daybreak96 @feelmyroarrrr @jimtkirkisabitch 

Part Two

(this gif made me wet tbh)


Steve glances up over his book at the sound of you entering the room.  He smiles.  “Hey, doll.”

You stop dead.  “You have got to be kidding me,” you mutter, taking him in.  He’s lounging back on the bed in nothing but a pair of low riding sweats. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, he was still growing out his beard.  And—God help you—he was wearing glasses.

“Goddamn it, Steve.”

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Another Man’s Treasure

A/N: This is a completed five-part mini-series because @alrightpetal and I have this thing about making Harry super vulnerable and flawed. So here you go.

// Another Man’s Treasure // Mind on a Mission // Take the Lead // Worth the Pain // Wings of Butterflies


…I’m gonna show you tonight! I’m alright! I’m just fine! And you’re a tool so, so what?

You belted your heart out up on stage, pumping your fist in the air to empower your words even further. It was a good thing you knew all the words, too, because your mates had bought you so many drinks your vision was crossed and blurred you couldn’t have read the lyrics to an unfamiliar song. Then you would have just been a blubbering fool butchering a karaoke performance. And that would have been embarrassing.

Singing yourself blue in the face—and drinking yourself into oblivion—served as the perfect outlet for your aching heart. Hours earlier, you’d been dumped. Or more accurately, replaced.

It’d been a week since you’d heard from your long-term boyfriend, and while you knew he was on holiday with his mates—a holiday you hadn’t been invited on—it was still odd that you hadn’t heard from him at all. Not even a text to let you know that he’d made it to Amsterdam. You didn’t expect too much communication; you trusted him to treat you right, but, silly you, you thought your boyfriend might actually miss you and want to say hi.

Last night after seven and a half days of nothing, you completely lost it and called him forty-seven times in a row. And not a single one was answered. So you rang your closest friends and they came over, laptops and tablets in hand, and intense cyber-stalking commenced.

It only took thirty-four minutes for your good mate Lindsey to unearth a damning post on Insta that your boyfriend was tagged in by a girl you kind of knew. The picture itself wasn’t awful; honestly you couldn’t make out much besides silhouettes and drinks. Even the caption wasn’t much; all it said was, “this guy” with a random slew of emojis. But the funny thing was, when you tried to search for it yourself, nothing came up. Meaning you were blocked. You weren’t meant to see this picture.

Twenty-two minutes of super-sleuthing was enough time for your oldest friend Ashley to find every social media account the girl had, and then eventually uncover her phone number.

In thirteen minutes you had a text drafted to her that was so long it was broken into five different parts when you hit send.

And one minute and fifty-four seconds is all the time your boyfriend—well ex-boyfriend—allowed you to speak to him today before he told you he was coming back tomorrow and there’d be no need for you to come see him. Tomorrow or ever again.

So your mates did what they knew best. They took you out, got you absolutely smashed, and then got you up on stage to pour your heart out. Somewhere in between I Will Survive and Total Eclipse of the Heart, you got a bit weepy and ended up calling your brother from the toilet. It took you awhile to realize you weren’t actually sobbing to him but his voicemail, and as soon as you did you pulled yourself back together and headed out for another drink and a rousing rendition of Since U Been Gone.

The few other patrons in the pub were hardly paying attention to your drunken warbling on stage, only breaking from their conversations when your mates would cheer at the end of each song, some of them even offering half-hearted claps. If they were annoyed, they certainly didn’t let on. Most likely, they pitied you; for Christ sake, you pitied you.

When your song ended, you finished the rest of your drink and began flipping through the songbook. Liberation was surging through you and you wanted a song to match your mood; something to serve as a proper fuck you to the twat you’d wasted the last few years of your young life on.

The book closed on your fingers, and you stumbled back in surprise. Were books automated now too?! You still weren’t over the automated tills at Tesco, would you now have to get used to robotic books closing on you when they’d had enough?!

“[Y/N].”

You looked up, your blurred vision slowly coming into focus as you swayed on the spot. A robotic book didn’t close itself on you, a person had closed it. Which was rather rude of them.

[Y/N],” he repeated. Finally he came into view and you cocked your head in confusion.

“Hazza?” you slurred, taking a step closer to get a better look. You nearly toppled off the stage, but Harry was quick to grab you by the waist and steady you before easing you down.

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“You’re pregnant and he cheats on you” Pt. 4.1

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

(a/n): I’m really happy everyone enjoyed this series so here is the fourth part, next will mark the end and I could really use more requests!

Masterlist | Ask


It wasn’t until 5 years later when you made your return to Seoul. After packing you left to go back to your hometown to stay with family for the meantime. Being a single mother of a now, 5 year old boy, wasn’t the hardest task in the book, but it also wasn’t the easiest, even with the aide of you parents at hand. You wanted to move back to Seoul for, one, new job opportunities and two, so you could re-connect with old friends. Hoseok is the first person you called to inform of your return and he spared no time showing up to your newly bought apartment to help you unpack.

Jihae was more than excited to meet Hobi. He was technically the uncle he never had so when there was a knock at the door he was quick to beat you to it, with his little hands trying so hard to turn the knob, which, failed miserably. You helped him and opened the door, being greeted with a Hobi’s signature smile.

“Hobi…!”

Your three year old was quick to wrap his small form around Hoseok’s leg making you laugh. You moved over and picked up Jihae, stepping to the side for Hoseok to enter the apartment.

You walked over to the living room area then took the moment to greet Hoseok, setting the 5 year old down..”It’s been five years since we last saw each other in person hasn’t it?”

He chuckled and nodded looking around the apartment. “It has, and it’s been a hell of a lot different after you left.”

“We can catch up about that later, All I know is I am glad to be back.” You smiled then pulled your hair back in a tight pony-tail and picking up a box. “Anyways, Who’s ready to get to work around here~?”

Jihae was quick to reply, throwing his arms into the air.

“Me..!”


The remainder of the day was mostly spent painting and un-boxing much of the stuff, but with a lot of hard-work on most of the rooms, and by most, the living room and both yours and Jihae’s room, was set, leaving the kitchen, bathroom, and spare room left to finish.

Hoseok stepped out of one of the rooms being worked on and sat down with a sigh. “It takes that long for a couple rooms? Its been 7 hours…!” He stifled a laugh, before leaning forward. “I would ask if you want to go out with the boys just for a little together but I feel as if it is to late for that.”

You shook your head. “Actually that would be great…!” You smiled getting up from your chair.

“Are you sure..?” He raised an eyebrow at you. “It is only 6, We don’t go to bed till 9.” You smiled. “Just give me time to get washed up..”

He nodded and texted the boys as you took Jihae in your arms to get him dressed. “Momma… Were going to meet Uncle Tae and Jin…?” You smiled and nodded. “And Jungkook, Jimin, and Namjoon..”

“What about daddy?”

It’s as if the color drained from your face. There’s the question you always wanted to avoid but you knew that it would pop up soon. Trying to find the right words you set your son down and smiled a bit sadly. “When the time comes I will tell you but now wouldn’t be good…”

“But I wanna know…!” You started to put his shoes on him. “Trust me… I will tell you but to much things are happening right now..”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Did something happen between Mommy and Daddy…?” You sighed and nodded. “At your age, you wouldn’t be able to fully understand.” Your son pouted making you smile. It was scary how similar Jihae looked to his father. The dark brown, close to being black, hair, the chocolate brown eyes, Hell even the pout he did. You thought about why you used Yoongi’s surname for Jihae, not being able to think why. Your thoughts were interrupted when Hoseok knocked, leaning against the door frame.

“You ready?”

You nodded, Helping Jihae down before following Hobi. “Where are we going?”

“A little corner cafe where we can all kick back and relax.. Is that fine?”

You nodded. “Perfect~


Once arriving you found all the guys there, Sitting around in the couch area chatting away. You chuckled noticing how they changed a lot after a few years.You pushed the doors open to the cafe and made your way over, Taehyung immediately noticed your arrival and jumped up to tackle you in a hug. “Oh my god you’re back?!”

You laughed and nodded, The other quickly following along and hugging you as well. “Did Hoseok not tell you I was coming?”

Jungkook smiled, shaking his head. “He only told us he had something important to talk to us about..!” You shook my head and looked over to Hobi, he only shrugged while snickering.

A screech was heard from Tae as he noticed Jihae’s presence behind you. “Is that him..?!” He crouched down, smiling while Jihae slowly came from behind you and smiled shyly. “Awe cmon, You were so excited to meet them till now.. Why become shy?” You chuckled as he stood in front of Taehyung.

“I’m Jihae….”

“He looks just like…”  He looked over to me, shutting himself up before holding his hand out to Jihae. “Im Taehyung.”

The other 5 watched, smiling before introducing themselves as well.

The time went with all of you catching up and joking around until it came for the moment you had to leave because both you and Jihae were sleepy. So you said goodbye to all of them and took your leave, As soon as you stepped out you realized the ground was wet, taking note that it had rained so you picked Jihae up and wrapped him in your jacket so he would stay warm.

It wasn’t until you heard a gasp close by that you let the curiosity get to you and turned towards it, only to find out the gasp was because of you.

“Oh my god it actually is you…”

Part of you felt weak noticing the presence of someone who fucked up the entirety of your life, the one who messed it all up and called you disgusting names. You found yourself in front of her not knowing what to do at the moment.

Jennie…?

You knew you should have been pissed at her but you had an agreement with yourself, even then all those feelings that you had towards her were faded and gone. You noticed she was at the point of tears and couldn’t look you in the eye. Had she felt bad..? She was mumbling a lot of nonsense you couldn’t make out. You just stared.

Her eyes trailed down to where Jihae, who was fast asleep on your shoulder. You shifted feet uncomfortably and watched her cautiously.

“I’m so sorry…” She bit down on her lip and you stood in silence for a bit letting it sink in that she had actually felt guilty. You had no clue what to say so you sighed and let whatever came to your mind first.

“You took everything away from me. My boyfriend, My happiness, an much more.” She flinched, choking back a cry. “You gained absolutely jack-shit for doing this.” She staggered a bit from you words only small apologies slipping out.

You stepped towards and looked her in the eye for once. “But that was 5 years ago. I forgave you when I made the choice to let any grudge go and that’s when I sat in a hospital bed with a baby cradled in my arms.”

She seemed to relax a bit at your words.

“It was fucked up, yes, but people learn from their mistakes and even if it’s really bad, some are meant to be forgiven.

She seemed shocked and you smiled a bit.

“Don’t get hung up on the past because of mistakes. I can see you have changed. Look to the future and forget what happened then and look at what is happening now..”

That’s when a man made his way out and over next to Jennie’s side, wrapping his arm around her waist with a confused look upon his face. She hugged him and cried into his chest so you took the chance to turn and walk off, your question about Yoongi being answered.

“Goodbye Jennie.”


The encounter with Jennie left you thinking about it longer then you should have. It had been four days since you were distracted by the sudden encounter that you hadn’t been paying attention and ran right into a stranger, dropping the four bags of groceries across the pavement. The stranger was quick to help you pick the items up, and when you looked up to thank the stranger, your eyes widened, and as if realizing too he staggered back.

(Y/N)

You were, to say in the least, wanting to cry. Sudden Encounter #2 was the one encounter you definitely were not ready for. It made you want to run, and run away far but you managed to keep an act up. You had to stay strong for the sake of yourself and your kid. So you stood up and nodded your head slighly at him.

Yoongi.

And then luck wasn’t so much on your side when you heard the yell of your son, Hoseok close behind him.

Mommy returned uncle Hobi…!

 You looked up to Yoongi watching his reaction as he went pale and looked like he had just seen death. You knew exactly what he was thinking.

You really wanted this to be a dream


THE NEXT PART WILL BE THE END DSKJBHFSJK im sorry if it sucks ;;

His First. (A Dirty Harry Styles One Shot)

- In which Harry is a bit.. inexperienced in the bedroom.

Harry thought he could hide it. He thought he could get away with it. But, when everything came to him so all of a sudden, he realized that he was trapped, and the only way to get out, was by telling the truth. 

And so he did.

“What?” you ask breathlessly, your hands at the mid of Harry’s patterned shirt, fingers frozen on the buttons, pulling the colorful fabric away from his tall and lanky form.

“I-I’m.. yeh are my first.”


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Bring It On | 01

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Apparently there was no avoiding his scolding this afternoon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is new. Very new. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh no.” He sighs.

“What?”

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

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

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

All hope dies.

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

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

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

And therein lies your problem.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They think I’m a virgin.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Monogamy?”

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

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

Loud enough to garner attention.

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

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

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

“Then I’m not getting up.” He pouts.

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

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

“You’ll owe me?” You cock a brow.

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

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

“I… shit… yeah, anything.” He sighs.


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

“Is something wrong?”

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

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

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

“Be more specific?” He sighs, disinterested.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jimin.”

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

“What voice?” You pout.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sleep now.” He grumbles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck off.” You grit out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

“What happened to Hoseok?”

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

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

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

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

“What’s going on over here?”

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

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

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

“Me, the captain.” You shoot back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What does that even mean?” Jimin implores.

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook snorts at that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jar, Jungkook.” You exasperate.

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“You didn’t have to.” You hiss.

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

Not in front of witness.

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

“Matures my middle name.” Jimin seethes.


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The blowjob?”

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

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


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

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

“He’s not my—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

“No!” You gasp.

“Yes.”

“No!”

Yes.”

“No!”

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

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

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

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

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

“What face?” You frown.

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

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

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


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

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

So the gym it was.

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

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

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

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

“A scary prospect.” He murmurs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jimins expression remains bland, emotionless.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuel to Fire (intro)

Stucky x reader

Notes: fluff, tattooing, some angst, smut (m/m and m/m/f) 

Summary: Living their dream, Bucky and Steve run their tattoo shop ‘American Ink’ together, happily married for several years and business is going well. When a girl walks into their shop and inevitably into their lives right after they’ve received some exciting news, they have no idea how their lives are about to change with some harmless but straight-forward flirting. 

A/N: This is the introduction to the tattoo-shop AU, a Stucky x reader story that could be compared to my earlier series: Savages. I have no idea where this is going or how long it’s gonna be. I’m just gonna see where it takes me. 

“Buck-.. you think we’re gettin’ boring?” Steve muses, his arms behind his head, relaxing against his pillow as he stares up at the ceiling.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Steve” Bucky groans, popping up somewhere below Steve’s belt, pushing his hair away from his eyes. “m’Tryin’ to suck your dick here, you mind?”

“I don’t, actually” Steve grins. “I was just thinkin’”

“Yeah. I know” Bucky shuts him up, pinching his husband’s side, earning a yelp in turn. “Stop it and let me suck your pretty cock”

“Baby, c’mon, hold on a minute, okay?” Steve pleads, putting on his best pouting face and big blue eyes.

Bucky groans, rolls off his husband, “Okay, okay. Stop with the eyes already. What’s on your mind?”

Keep reading

my good friend @lena221b recently reminded me of a series of drabbles i wrote in response to anon asks aaaaages ago. i couldn’t find the original posts (we’re talking years ago, that’s too much scrolling for one mortal girl) so i decided to lump them all together here. the following are a few short snippets of derek and stiles’ life together. in my head they’re all part of the same universe. enjoy!


“I dream about riding you sometimes.”

Derek drops Stiles flat on his face.

Stiles doesn’t seem to notice, just tries to roll himself back over. ‘Tries’ being the operative word, because he somehow manages to get himself tangled in his hoodie and then he’s just struggling on the ground with his head trapped in the sleeve.

Ordinarily Derek would help him, would feel guilty about dropping him in the first place, but right now he’s too preoccupied with choking on his own spit.

Stiles fights his way out of his clothing and gazes up at Derek.

“You’re so big though, I’m not even sure I could get my legs around you.”

Can werewolves go into cardiac arrest? Because it’s happening, Derek’s pretty sure it’s happening.

“And you’re so strong, too. I bet I could just climb up on there and you could keep going for hours.”

Stiles smacks his lips and wiggles on the forest floor and seems completely unconcerned with the way Derek’s world is rearranging itself around him.

“Such a scary wolfy,” Stiles mumbles, eyelashes fluttering. “You’re also really fluffy though.” He reaches out and starts patting Derek’s boot. “Preeeetty.”

Derek steps carefully away from Stiles and smashes his head into the nearest tree. A cut appears on his eyebrow and then heals before he’s even wiped the blood away. Because Stiles is talking about riding Derek in his wolf form. Like he’s some kind of glorified pony. And Derek is so pathetically gone on this boy that he’d let him. He’d growl and snarl and snap his jaws and then he’d get down on his haunches and carry Stiles wherever he wanted to go.

He’s absolutely, definitively not disappointed that Stiles isn’t talking about riding him in his human form because that would be gross and creepy and taking advantage of Stiles’ intoxicated state.

Right, Stiles, who is drunk, and burrowing into a pile of leaves.

Derek sighs at his life and stomps over to pick Stiles up again.

“Whoa, spinny!” Stiles shrieks and clutches at Derek’s collar. When he’s got his feet back under himself he looks around and frowns. “Nooo, no standing, it’s nap time.”

“It’s three o’clock in the morning,” Derek grumbles.

“Which is why it’s nap time,” Stiles insists, like it wasn’t his idea to get smashed in the woods in the middle of the night like an utter moron.

“You can sleep back at the loft, okay?” Derek bargains, wrapping an arm around Stiles’ waist and hauling him forward.

“Mmm your bed,” Stiles groans, stuffing his face into Derek’s neck. “Been trying to get into your bed for months.”

Derek drops Stiles flat on his face.

                                                              *****

The first time Stiles walks into Derek’s loft and finds him cooking he’s so stunned that he forgets to actually stop walking and crashes into a table.

Derek raises an eyebrow without looking away from where he’s blanching (blanching) vegetables. Once Stiles has stopped rolling around on the floor he uses two bar stools to pull himself right-side-up and brushes himself off as nonchalantly as he can manage.

“You cook?” he asks, trying his hardest not to appear incredulous, but Derek is wearing oven mitts so it’s not really going too well.

Derek levels him with his patented ‘why am I dating an idiot?’ look. It’s very, very flat.

“Yes, Stiles, I can cook,” he says, and pokes at something sizzling in a pan. Stiles boggles. Derek raises his other eyebrow this time. “Why is this shocking? You know I eat.”

“Well, yeah, objectively,” Stiles agrees. “I just always assumed you lived off a diet of Hot Pockets, squirrels, and the tears of your enemies.”

So very flat.

“Well, I’d hate to disappoint. I’ll throw this in the bin and then head out to rustle up some woodland creatures.” He goes to turn off the burner and Stiles dives across the kitchen.

"No, no, no. This is good. This is — What is this?” Stiles takes a whiff and just about hits the floor again. “Oh god, feed me.”

(Stiles can cook too, but his speciality is sweet things. Derek couldn’t bake a cake to save his life. They’re a match made in culinary heaven.)

                                                            *****

"No,” Derek says sternly, giving Stiles everything his eyebrows have to offer. “Absolutely not.”

“What! Derek, come on, you know you want one,” Stiles wheedles, waggling his own eyebrows at Derek. He looks ridiculous and definitely not appealing.

“I have my hands full enough just trying to look after you.”

"Hey!” Stiles squawks. “I resent that! I am a fully functioning adult, thank you very much,” he says, puffing himself up.

All Derek has to do is glance pointedly at the thing curled up in Stiles’ arms and he puffs right back down again.

“I’ll keep her at my place! You won’t even know she’s there. I’ll take such good care of her, I swear.” Derek remains unmoved. Stiles pulls out the big guns. “Babe, please.” Damn him. “Just look at that face. You can’t say no to that face.”

The thing is, Derek is dangerously close to letting slip just how true that is. He’ll never be able to say no to Stiles. He might put up a token protest, but Derek knows that the second Stiles asks him for anything he’s already screwed.

And right now Stiles isn’t pulling his punches either. He’s got the big eyes and the pouty lips and his neck stretched out at the most perfect angle and Derek’s ready to fall to his knees and offer Stiles everything.

Except, what, no, not this time, Stiles is starting to make him legitimately insane.

“Who are you?! Hagrid?!” he exclaims. “Put the dragon down, Stiles.”

Stiles pulls this heartbroken face, and Derek is almost swayed except dragon.

“But she’s just a baby!” Stiles wails. “She doesn’t know how to look after herself.”

“She just singed off Scott’s eyebrows,” Derek says flatly. “I think she’ll be fine.”

(On the walk back to the Jeep Derek offers to buy Stiles a cat in place of the dragon, because they’re basically the same thing anyway and Derek is a sucker.)

                                                            *****

“I told you not to do it,” Derek sing-songs, condescendingly, not even looking up from his book. The ass.

“No you didn’t,” Stiles moans from his place on the couch. He removes his arm from his face to glare weakly at said ass. “You said, ‘As if you’d ever get your nipple pierced’. Which was basically a direct challenge. Which means of course I did it.”

Derek doesn’t even stop reading to roll his eyes at Stiles. He just kind of widens them slightly with a long-suffering look on his face. The ass.

"This is entirely your fault,” Stiles whines. Derek doesn’t respond at all.

Stiles wriggles around making pitiful noises until Derek snaps his book shut with a growl. “What.”

“It hurts,” Stiles sniffles.

“Well that’s because you poked a piece of metal through your flesh,” Derek bitches, but he gets up and walks over to the couch anyway. He lifts Stiles’ legs and settles himself down, Stiles’ thighs splayed across his lap. Then he curls his hand around Stiles’ knee and begins leeching his pain.

“Better?” he asks, and Stiles hums in the back of his throat, his eyes fluttering shut.

He’s just about to drop off the edge of consciousness when something hot and wet envelops his nipple. Stiles jerks violently and finds Derek staring up at him from his chest, eyes dancing. He grins wickedly and flicks his tongue against the bar and Stiles melts.

(Derek ends up loving Stiles’ nipple piercing. Stiles lords it over him for months until Derek comes home with a piercing in a much more sensitive place. Stiles’ mouth is busy doing other things after that.)

                                                            *****

Derek went into this relationship with Stiles with his eyes wide open. Which basically meant he was expecting a lot of sex, because every second word out of the kid’s mouth was innuendo and he smelled constantly turned-on. And Stiles did not disappoint. There was a lot of sex. A lot.

Derek was not expecting the cuddling. But five months in Derek’s beginning to wonder if Stiles is actually a were-octopus and just hasn’t told him yet.

No matter how aggressively he spoons Stiles when they’re drifting off to sleep, he’ll always wake up buried under warm, clingy boy.

When Derek joined the Stilinski’s in visiting the Sheriff’s mother over Thanksgiving, he passed out alone on the couch and woke to Stiles wrapped around him, his face shoved under a throw pillow.

Stiles holds him in the shower, tucks Derek under his arm at pack movie nights, plasters himself to Derek’s back in the kitchen when he’s soft and tired-eyed.

The first time Stiles grabbed Derek’s hip and rested his head on Derek’s shoulder while they were both brushing their teeth Derek spent two whole minutes staring at him in the mirror. The first time. Now it feels weird whenever he’s not lopsided during his entire morning routine.

For years after Kate, Derek was uncomfortable being touched. Other people’s hands made his blood pump harder and his breathing turn shallower and his muscles coil up. Now, the safest he ever feels is when Stiles’ arms are snug around his heart.

Heart on the Line (part 1)

Masterlist

You and Bucky had your differences in college, but now you need a place to stay and he needs a roommate, and in order to make ends meet, you two start a phone sex line together.  

“For a Good Time, Call…” AU


author: sugardaddytonystark (formerly buckysbackpackbuckle)
pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
word count: 1516
warnings: smutty smut smut and dirty talk (future chapters)

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our little family pt.2 | jimin

Pairing: Father! Jimin + Reader

Genre: Fluff/Angst + parent au

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: You were just a pre-school teacher, a simple dream that came true as you always adored children. But what you didn’t know, was how one child and her very special father would change you dream forever.

Parts: 1 2

Warning: Slight cursing 

“Oh come on Y/N! You haven’t been out with us in forever, people are forgetting how you even look!” Your friend whined into the phone as you let out a long sigh, setting your book down unwillingly as you’d been reading it for the last hour.

It had been weeks since your friend, Hani had been begging you to go to the club with her, with you finding a reason to not almost every week.

“But–” you started, an excuse at the tip of your tongue as you had no intention of leaving this book. But she interrupted immediately.

“Nope! Don’t you even start! I’m picking you up in 30 minutes and you’re coming, even if I have to drag you out in your pajamas. So look pretty and get ready to get hooked up babe!”

Before you could protest, Hani ended the call, making you slump against the sofa, a long groan slipping past your lips.

Time to look for a dress tonight.

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1 | You’ll Never Walk Alone

BTS + GOT7 X READER [GANG!AU] 

WORD COUNT: 4,225

series warnings: mature themes, strong language, violence, substance abuse, eventual smut

Originally posted by sosjimin

masterlist | ask | prev | next

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Such A Sap ~Freaky February~ (S.R)

prompt: Hi, do you think you could write a Spencer Reid smut? Like, he gets jealous of Morgan flirting with the reader cause they’ve been dating for a year or so and has to claim her? You’re an awesome writer, I live for your smut <3

Pairing: Spencer x Reader

Word Count: 1.27k

Warning: None(a little long before you reach the smut)

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Muñeca.

Paring: Bucky Barnes/Hispanic!Reader.

Warnings: SMUT. Reader being a HUGE flirt, spanish, talk about books and music in spanish, fingering, sofa sex, Bucky using some words in spanish. Alcohol.

Word Count: 1881.

Rating: 18+.

Masterlist.

Apparently some people in this fandom (read White People) have a problem with authors writing for readers of color, since I am a real Bitch and I’m fresh out of fucks I decided I was gonna write not one, but two POC Reader inserts, this is one of them. The next one is gonna be Black!Reader and Bucky. This is dedicated to that anon @papi-chulo-bucky got last week who was crying about Haunting Me being a POC reader insert and, of course, to all the other bitches who want to complain about POC!Reader inserts being discriminatory towards White People.

Yes, I’m The Queen of Salt.

Tagging; @sexylibrarian1 @thecrownedrose @erisjade @bladebarnes @ryverpenrad @acunningstargazer @palaiasaurus64 @marveldcmistress @supernatural-girl97 @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19

I mention my dad’s favorite book “Love in the Time of Cholera” by Gabriel García Márquez, you should check his books out.

Also, mentioned in the fic this argentinian group (hey! @connieisland) called Soda Stereo here are two songs one and two

And the lyrics are from this song by a Venezuelan rapper called Reis Belico.

Wow. This was long. By the way, Muñeca means doll.


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Damian ‘cockblock’ Wayne - Jason Todd x Reader

Anon - Can you do a Jason Todd x reader where Damian keeps cockblocking Jason and the reader (he sees the reader as an older sister/mother type of figure)

WORD COUNT - 1.4K

Summary - Sexually frustrated Jaybird seems to not be able to catch a break.

Warnings - swearing, make outs, reference to sex.


“God I want to kill Grayson…” Jason grumbled as he climbed through your apartment window, normally he would visit you during the day and take you out, but most recently he had been appearing in your apartment at ungodly hours of the night after patrol; he came over either just needing to feel you next to him as he slept, or just needing to feel you writhing beneath him, moaning his name as he showed you how much he loved you – he had been away for a couple weeks, patrol had practically taken over his life and all he was thinking about through those gruelling weeks was you, and how much he missed you and needed you.

“Baby? You better be ready to stay awake all night long…” He smirked to himself as he made his way to your bedroom, kicking off his shoes and throwing his leather jacket away in a random direction before swinging your bedroom door open. “Jay?” You whispered, eyes widening as you sat up and stared at him as he started pulling off his armour. “You have no idea how much I need you right now, if you thought you were sore the day after my birthday, god babe you’re not gonna be able to walk tomorrow.” He bit his lip, taking off the rest of the remaining clothing on his body, leaving him all bare before you. “Jay shut up!” you squeal, you did love his spontaneity but this was definitely NOT the time. “You won’t be saying that in a couple minutes…” He smirked, striding towards you and ripping the duvet from your body and revealing you and a certain someone else.

“What the-?! Why the fuck is demon spawn here?” He backed away, grabbing his boxers and pulling them on like the flash as he stared at little Damian, snuggling his face into Jason’s own pillow as he slept soundly. “Dami has been keeping me company since you’ve been gone!” You whisper-shouted, getting out of bed and pushing Jason out of the bedroom and closing the door behind you.

“I thought you weren’t back till morning?” you spoke “I couldn’t wait…” He spoke low, eyes darker than night as he grabbed your thighs and wrapped them around his waist and turning you so you were now against the wall; he crashed his lips onto yours impatiently, not wanting to answer any more of your questions. “Jay-mhpf” You tried to speak, but Jason clearly wasn’t having it as he pushed his tongue into your mouth, your tongues now fighting for dominance as he slid his hands into your shorts as he began groping your arse, taking you to the lounge area and throwing you against the couch.

You laid there breathless as Jason went back to his original position between your legs, kissing your neck and sucking onto your sweet spot beneath your ear as he grinded into you, Jason Jr clearly happy to see you; if Damian wasn’t asleep in your bed right now you would gladly go all the way to welcome Jaybird back home, but, he was.

“Jay- Damian might wake-“ “I don’t care let me show you how much I love you..” Jason purred, tugging at your shorts as he kissed your hips. “Y/N?” A voice echoed in the hallway “Damian!” You gasped, pushing Jason off of you and turning to look at Damian. “Fucking cockblock…” Jason groaned as he continued to lay on the ground where he landed, earning a side glare from you. “You’re insufferable.” Damian rolled his eyes at Jason and then turned back to you “I thought you had been kidnapped, last time I saw you, you were in bed with me so I was concerned. Anywho, continue whatever you were doing I’m going to get some water.” Damian spoke, nodding towards Jason before returning into the shadows and back to your bedroom.

“Now where were we…” “No Jay!” you giggled, pecking his lips before getting up on your feet. “What? He said continue!” He whined, pouting his lips out at you; god you wish you got that as a picture, because if you told anyone the mighty Red Hood pouted his lips out at you to get what he wanted, well, he would indefinitely deny and no one would believe you anyway. You shook your head, smiling to yourself “Oral?” he pleaded, watching your magnificent behind walk away from him as you rolled your eyes “five minutes in the shower?” He raised his voice “good night Jay!” you chuckled “Jerk me off?!” he shouted out, he really needed you right now, soon after he heard your bedroom door slam shut. “God I hate you demon spawn…” He groaned, collapsing onto the couch.



He glanced down to his crotch, sighing, he was literally throbbing; “what am I going to do with you now?”


The smell of pancakes and bacon filled the air, Jason nose twitched, waking up on the couch in the same position that he fell asleep, a mug of hot chocolate sat beside him. “Y/N?” He called out, stretching out his body and sitting up, rubbing his eyes and running his fingers through his dark hair before glancing to the kitchen, expecting to see you in one of his shirts… and ONLY one of his shirts… bending over the island in the centre in order to get something, your ass practically inviting him to come in.

Although, much to his dismay, he looked over only to see Damian sat the island eating, and you, fully clothed.

He sighed, standing up, earning a few cracking sounds from his back before groggily making his way towards you.  “Todd.” “Cock block.” They nod to each other, as Jason made his way towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist he smiles “good morning” you giggle, leaning back into his warmth as he hugged you from behind, he began to kiss the spot beneath your ear making you bite your lip.

“AHEM” Damian spoke up, making Jason groan against your skin, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “Why is he still here?” He whines “Because he wanted to spend some time with me! You’re lucky he didn’t wake up when you were all lusty last night.” You chuckled “It’s not my fault that I wanted my girlfriend after weeks and weeks apart. I have no idea how people can wait till marriage.” he smirks, resting his hands on your waist and turning you around to face him, he tucks a stray hair behind your ear as he looks down at you lovingly, leaning his head down towards your lips. Just as he was only mere centimetres away from those lips he has wanted to taste for weeks,  Damian’s head pops up next to the two of you and his hair brushed against your cheek.

“I know you two are a couple but I care more for my hunger rather than that so Y/N may I have 2 more slices of toast?” He asks “Help yourself.” You smile, ruffling his hair before turning back to face your beloved boyfriend “GO HOME DEMON SPAWN.” He growls, earning a glare from you as you slapped your hand on his very broad chest “Jason!” you gasp “oh come on! my balls are almost as blue as Dick’s nightwing suit” he complained, hands gripping a bit tighter onto your waist.

“Todd could you refer to your genitalia more subtly, I’m trying to eat my breakfast” Damian sneers, biting into a piece of toast. “BEAT IT DEMON” “Maybe that’s what you should be doing” “DAMIAN!” you gasped, surely something like that shouldn’t come out of the mouth of someone his age. “What? It would make him less of a challenge to be around” “Dami! Go get ready I’ll take you out for ice cream!” you couldn’t help but let out a laugh, you did not expect Damian to say anything of that sort out loud, let alone think of it. “Tt” he rolled his eyes, retreating back to your room to most likely get a shower.

Once the coast was clear, your attention was now all on Jason.

“Couch. You have until you hear the shower stop to do what you want, I don’t care whether if you’ve came or not, when the shower stops, we stop.” You smirk “Ooo I love it when you take control sometimes” Jason winks, slapping your behind before dragging you to the couch.


“Y/N your shower seems to need fixing so I took it upon myself to call a – TODD WHAT IN GODS NAME ARE YOU DOING TO Y/N”


Not my best of works I must admit but I hope you enjoyed and if you would like to request just message me! 

TAGS

@darlingpeanut @brooke-supernatural16 @lostinspace33 @permanent-lines

Byun Baekhyun//Batter Up

Summary: Byun Baekhyun is the star player of your college’s baseball team - plenty of people have a crush on him, and of course you do too. But you have one thing they don’t have: a quiet friend who can’t pick up her damn phone and a head full of air.
Scenario: baseball!au, fluff
Word Count: 4,353

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The Runaway Ballerina

Pairing: Dean x sister!reader, Sam x sister!reader, some Cas 

Warnings: Fluff

Summary: Reader has been hexed by witch that turned her into a toddler, and a jealous Dean becomes very annoyed. 

A/N: I hit 100 followers, so in honor of that I’ll be posting some imagines so if you guys have any request send them down and I’ll try my best.


Part 2

Originally posted by helvonasche


Sam and Dean sit in baby staring at their once 25 year old sister who was now 4 years old in a ballerina outfit because that’s what she picked out at the store when they needed to buy her clothes. The previous hunt they were on Y/N got hit by some weird powder by a witch and Dean woke up the following morning to a tiny hand on his face.

“Why do you guys keeping wooking at me weird?” She ask looking between them. “You’re just so tiny.” Sam smiles. “She’s so cute!” Sam adds looking at Dean. “Yeah, I remember.” He mumbles as they get out the car to go food shopping for the bunker.

“Come on Y/N.” Sam chimes as he opens the back door for her. He holds her hand as they cross the street to the store. She lets go and runs to the shopping carts to grab one. They stand there watching her struggle to get one cart out because they were stuck together. (Don’t you just hate that) “I got it.” Sam chuckles getting it. As they walk in store Y/N skips ahead next to Dean to hold his hand but he keeps moving his hand so she can’t grab it.

“I don’t wanna hold your hand, thanks. I don’t wanna hold your hand.” He argues. She frowns and grabs a hold of his hand and grips it tight. “Ow, ow, let go of my hand.” He growls. “That hurts.” He glares down at her. She whimpers and peeks over to Sam who looks down at her. “What’s wrong bug?”

“Dean won’t hold my hand.” Y/N pouts. Sam gives Dean his signature bitch face and Dean grunts and grabs her hand. “She always did this before.” He mumbles but Sam just chuckles shaking his head. “Why did you choose a costume?” Dean ask looking at her ballerina outfit. “It’s not a costume it’s my protective gear.”

“How’s a ballerina costume suppose to protect you?”

“Are you crazy who wants to hurt a ballewina?” She protest. “Other ballerinas.” Dean shrugs. Once Dean had enough he throws Y/N in the seat of the cart and she rambles to Sam who too eventually has enough of her talk of Princes and fairies and he gives her his iPod. She bops her head and swings her hanging legs accidentally kicking Sam once in awhile listening to music as they get to the register. “Can I has some lime jerky?” She ask pointing down below to the candy and jerky. Sam is about to protest remembering her eating habit but Dean holds his hand up to stop him. “Your remember how she was when she didn’t get things. She whined and whined.” Sam grabs the jerky and puts it down with the of stuff and Y/N smiles. The ride to the bunker is an half hour away and Y/N becomes very impatient.

“Are we there yet?” She grunts tugging on her seatbelt. “We get there when we get there Y/N.” Dean answers annoyed. “Why do you have to be such a meany?” She yells. Sam stops Dean before he can even talk back. “Hey princess let’s play a game.” Sam says turning around in his seat. “Okay!”

“Let’s play the license plate game.”

“Yay okay!” Y/N props herself on the seat and looks out the window. There isn’t much cars on the road and she eventually falls asleep from boredom. When they arrive Sam carries Y/N down the stairs seeing Cas sitting in the war room. “Who’s the child?” He questions noticing a sleeping Y/N in Sam’s arms.

“Cas it’s Y/N.” He chuckles. “Y/N isn’t two feet tall.”

“She got hit by some mumbo jumbo powder and now she’s four years old so we need to find a way to reverse it.” Dean explains as they walk to the kitchen. “Cas would you mind taking her to her room?” Sam ask. Cas hesitates at first and nods. Sam passes her gently so she doesn’t wake up. She stirs in Cas’s arms for a moment and becomes still again. He takes her to her room settling her down on the bed. He admires her small body seeing fully that it clearly was Y/N. He remembers Y/N showing him some pictures of her and boys when they were younger.

An hour goes passed and the boys sit in the library reading some books. “Do children usually nap for this long?” Cas questions. “You have a point totally forgot. She’s too quiet now that I realize.” Sam intervenes. “Oh no.” Dean mumbles getting up. “What? What is it?” Cas questions following them to the kitchen.

“Whenever Y/N was quiet it meant that she’s was either hiding something or she’s going through the pantry for cand—”

Sure enough when they reach the kitchen they see a stash of candy wrappers opened along with other snacks, but that wasn’t the problem. This was Dean’s secret stash. “Son of bitch.” He stomps his boot. “If she throws up, I’m blaming you!”  Dean scolds at Sam with a pointed finger. They go into the hallways to look for her. “Y/N!” Dean screams. He goes to her room not seeing her there and is about to leave till he hears shuffling from the closet. He slowly walks up to the closet grabbing the door knobs and swings them open spotting the little ballerina with a chocolate stained mouth.

“THERE YOU ARE!” She screams crawling through Deans legs and makes a run for it in the hallway.

“Sammy get her!” He screams. Sam sees a small body dart across the hallway. He runs after her but loses her once he turns the corner. Five minutes go by and Dean doesn’t find her. “I’m tried of playing games Y/N come out now or it’s time out for you!” After three minutes of searching he meets in the war room with Sam. “She’s in so much trouble!” Dean grunts. “Dean, why are you so mad at her?”


“She ate my stuff!”

“No, not that. I mean ever since she turned you’ve been a meany like she said what’s up with that?” Dean doesn’t answer and looks away. Sam stands there waiting for the answer. Dean mumbles something inaudible he can’t hear. “What?”

“I said she likes you better then me.” He confesses. “Dean, what are you talking about?” He sighs before he answers.

“Every since Y/N was little she always liked you best. She was stuck to you like glue.” Sam stands there in shock. “Dean, she loves you a lot you know?” He raises an eyebrow hearing this. “Anytime you and dad were gone Y/N never shut about you. Asking me all these questions about cars and bugging me when you were gonna be back and how excited she was to learn  how to gank monsters from her big brother. Besides you too spend a bunch of time together now. Why is this affecting you?”

“Is that true?”

“Yes, I was kinda jealous because I thought she liked you more. And to be honest I’m a little jealous. You guys have a closer bond than I have with her now.” Sam admits. Suddenly Cas emerges into the war room carrying a crying Y/N. “What happened?” Sam ask. “Well when I was chasing her down she fell and hurt her knee.” He lifts her leg up showing the ripped pink unitard with a cut that is now bleeding just a little and the torn tutu. He goes to hand her to Sam’s out stretched arms but she whimpers rejecting him.


“I want Dean.” She whimpers crying. Dean lifts his head up hearing this and gets a good look at his baby sister. Her arms reached out for him leaning away from Cas. Her eyes puffy and red from crying. Dean realizes that he’s been so stupid that he didn’t need to be jealous, because him and Y/N get along perfect now when she’s not a toddler. She whimpers putting her arms down thinking her big brother yet again is rejecting her today until he reaches out for her and she quickly wraps her arms around his neck. “You okay?” He ask softly wiping her tear stained face. “No.” Y/N croaks shaking her head and he takes her to his room. He sets her down on his bed and helps her in one of his t-shirts after cleaning her face.


“I’m sorry I ate your candy.” She apologies in her small voice. “No, I’m sorry for being a meany today, I was just jealous.”

“Why?” She ask with a tilt of her head.

“It’s a long story. But let’s get a bandaid on this shall we?” He gets the first aid kit and cleans her scratch up. “Tank you.” She says once he’s finished. “Dean.” She calls out to him when he puts the stuff away. “Yeah?”

“Can we watch some cowboy movies?” He smiles at this and nods his head. “Sure thing sweetheart.” He sets the movie in his room while Cas helps her pop the popcorn. Half way through the movie Y/N starts falling asleep. He looks down under his arm seeing Y/N falling asleep with a piece of popcorn hanging of her bottom lip. “Getting sleepy there?” He lays down with her pulling the blanket up. “Frectles.” She mumbles. “What?” She puts one tiny finger in his face and says it again. “Frectles.” He frowns then gasp realizing what she meant. “You mean freckles.” He chuckles. “Yeah you has those.”

A/N: Would you guys like a Part 2?

Hate That I Love You (M)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Genre: Angst and smut.
Word count: 2.3k 

Summary: “I hate you.” You mumbled again as you bit your lip, trying anything to get him to have a fit and storm off, but of course, that wasn’t it — that just got him angrier. 
“I’m gonna get you to take that back.” He said in a low tone, pulling his t-shirt over his head before unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans quickly. 

➸ Song: Hate That I Love You.


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💋I Like You Okay? [Part 4] (Grayson x Reader)

Summary:  Can u do a grayson imagine where him n y/n like each other, but neither of them tell each other but Ethan knows ofc. So u tried to move on. N Grayson been actin like an ass wit u cus he saw u out having lunch with Cameron Dallas (him Ethan n Grayson are friends in this) n u guys have a heated argument leads to him kissing n then to you guys having rough but passionate sex n u guys get caught by Cameron Dallas n Ethan coming back to the twins apartment.

Warnings: Fingering/eating out/spanking/unprotected sex/Doggy Style/cursing/AKA Grab a bible

A/N: This is so intense. I hope you guys have enjoyed this mini mini series of Grayson! Thanks for reading you guys now enjoy the sexual side of G!

Part 1Part 2Part 3

Originally posted by thedolangifs

“I hate you Grayson. Just go home please.” I said exhaustedly, but before I could turn around I was pinned up against the wall as Grayson’s warm lips kissed mine hard. I was beyond confused at whatever was happening. Three seconds ago we were yelling and the next he’s making out with me hard. “Where’s Ethan?” I asked pushing Grayson off. 

“I don’t know probably out now.” He says before reconnecting his lips back to mine. I try and grab his shoulders for better friction, but he takes my arms and pins them above my head. “No baby girl. You don’t get to do that.” Grayson then kisses me hard again. One hand had my wrists pinned while one hand moves to my breasts as he starts squeezing them. His lips connect roughly to my neck as I feel his tongue softly cover the light bruise forming. I try my best to hold back the moans which makes Grayson smirk.

Originally posted by thedesire

“Baby girl you don’t want to do that.” He says lowly as he pinches my nipples hard.

“Fuck!” I moaned as I felt Grayson’s lips on my neck curve into a smile. He knew the power he had over me. He knew just what he was doing. His hand moved from my breasts and softly slid down my body until he reached the hem of my jeans. He reconnects his lips with mine and kisses me hard. My body thrusts upwards to him. He pulls away and smirks to me.

“Keep your hands above your head baby girl, okay?” He gives my neck a kiss before he gets down on his knees and looks up to me smiling. His hands give my hips a squeeze and he places soft kisses from my belly button to the hem of my jeans. He unbuttons them and kisses the top of my underwear. His hands wander to my ass as he gives a firm squeeze. I thrust my pelvis forward as Grayson chuckles. “Patience baby girl.” He kisses my panty line and trails down my crotch. I feel him lightly kiss my slit through my panties and I was weak. He pulls my jeans down to my ankles and off my feet to where I was left in my white tank top and pink panties. 

“Why? Why are you doing this Grayson?” I asked confused which made him stop everything he was doing. I could see his jaw clenching again which made me swallow my words. I felt my heart begin to race as he quickly stood to his feet. He grabbed my wrist hard and he yanked me to my room. I try my best not to trip as he shoves me on to the bed. 

“You said Cameron treated you like a person and I said I was going to make you take those words back. Do I make myself clear? Oh baby girl you don’t know how much I’m going to make you scream. Everyone on the fucking block will know my name.” He says as he connects his lips harshly to mine again. I tried to get up, but he pinned me down.

Originally posted by pleasingpics

Grayson just kisses my neck and trails down my body. Before I know it, I feel the cool air brush against exposed slit. I then feel the slightly unshaven face of Grayson rubbing against me and kissing my clit which made me buck my hips forward. I shiver at the intense of his lips sucking on my clit.

“Fuck!” I screamed which I felt him smile as he grabbed my ass and pushed me more into his face. He was eating me out hard and it felt so good. I rolled my head back as I went to lock my finger in his hair. As soon as his hair touched my finger tips he stopped.

“Do you like this? Do I make you feel good?” He asks as his finger slowly moves in circles around my clit. “Does Cameron make you feel this good?” He asks as he licks his bottom lick pulling the flesh in between his teeth. His fingers curve upwards barely tapping my G-spot. My mouth makes the shape of an O and I throw my head back. I slowly grind my hips into Grayson’s fingers. “Say it.” He growls which causes me to look at him. “Say I’m the only one who can make you feel this good.” He says as his fingers slide in and out of me harder, curving his fingers to hit my G-spot each time.

“Gr-Grayson.” I sputtered as his fingers hit me harder. “Fuck you feel so good.” I moaned as I flopped my body back against the bed. Grayson slows his pace as he hovers over me. He pulls his fingers out of me and clashes his lips with mine.

My hands tangle in his hair before he pulls away from me and stood at the end of the bed. He then slips his shirt over his head before pulling his pants down revealing his larger member in his boxers.

“Turn over.” Was all he said. Before I could react I felt Grayson slide my body down towards him. He was not patient at all. He grabbed my hips and flipped me onto my stomach.

“Grayson? What the hell you have a girlfr-AH!” I felt a burning sensation scatter throughout my body. I look over my shoulder and I see Grayson’s hand raised high.

“Don’t make me spank you again baby girl.” He says gruffly at which I bit my bottom lip. “Gosh I hate having to spank you Y/N. But someone needs to punish you.” Grayson says as his hand slams against my bare ass again which caused me to squeak. I couldn’t see his face, but I knew he was smirking. “Do you like that baby girl?” He asks which I turn my head slightly to look at him.

“I mean I’m not going to say I don’t like it.” I replied shyly which I saw his tough guy side fall a little and I saw Grayson lightly laugh followed by a smile. I giggled too, before his hand slapped my ass again.

“Gosh Y/N I’m so angry with you. I can’t believe you can kiss me, my brother, go on a date with Cameron, of all people you picked Cameron.” I chuckled a little as his hand slid in between my thighs to separate them which I knew what was about to happen. “And then here you are, letting me fuck you, right here in your bedroom.” With that I feel Grayson slam into me causing me to let out a yelp. I felt my walls expanding attempting to get used to his size. This wasn’t my first time, hell this wasn’t even my fifth time. But Grayson’s dick was so huge inside of me. “Like I’m going to fuck you like this so I don’t have to see you because I know if I see your face I’ll lose it.” Grayson pulls out and slams into me again which makes me let out a moan. “Mmm baby girl your moans sound so hot.” He says as he spanks my ass and let’s his nails drag against my skin which I let out another moan.

Originally posted by sensualkisses

“Fuck Gray!” I shout which causes him to thrust faster inside me. Finally I start to adjust to his size as I slam back into him. He grabs my ass hard and gives a hard squeeze. His dick hit my G-spot every single time he slammed inside of me. None of my exes knew where my spot was, but Gray did. Maybe his new girlfriend has taught him a few things or maybe me telling him about all the other guys he picked up on a few things.

“That’s it.” Grayson says before he pulls out of me and then slams my body on top of his. I knew to grind against him as he slowly slides himself inside of me. He peels my tank off with my sports bra and lies me down on my back. He thrusts into me as my nails dig into his back. “Scream my name.” He grunts as he rides me hard.

Originally posted by kissing-pleasure

“Scream my name.” He grunts as he rides me hard. 

“Fuck Grayson!” I moan as I wrap my arms tightly around his neck as he continues to pound into. I feel the headboard shaking behind me. I hear the wood slamming against the wall and the bed springs squeaking. Grayson connects my lips to his again and kisses me full of passion. At first he was very rough, but now I felt more passion. His kisses weren’t as sloppy and he wasn’t so aggressive anymore. His kisses were softer now, but fueled completely by passion with a hint of lust. This was the Grayson I fell in love with. This was the Grayson I wanted more than anyone. More than Ethan and Cameron combined.

Originally posted by perfectfeelings

He slowed his pace to where now we were just taking each other in, but he quickly sped up when I could feel him start twitching inside of me. I grab his face and push his face back for a second. “Cum for me Gray.” I said as I reconnected my lips back to his again as he speeds his thrusting up. I thrust up towards Grayson and soon I feel him pull out of me and he came all over my stomach. He then takes his fingers and rubs vigorously on my clit to make sure I finished too.

“Scream my name when you cum baby.” Grayson says as he rubs harder. I rolled my hips up towards his fingers. “Who makes you feel this good?” Grayson rubs me harder at which I feel my toes start to curl.

“You do.” I said shyly which made Grayson rub harder.

“Say my name.” He says at which I feel the knot in my stomach come undone as my entire body starts to shiver.

“Grayson! Fuck Gray!” I moaned at which he started to smile. He grabs me an old shirt to wipe the cum off of my stomach. I try to get up, but he stops me.

“No just curl up in bed. We need to talk.” Grayson says as he starts to pull me into him on the bed. He wrapped us up in my comforter. After a few minutes of nothing but silence and Grayson just holding me I decided to say something.

“Did you just cheat on Sophie?” I asked realizing he was in a relationship. Grayson looked to me like he was caught off guard. “You’re a lot of things Grayson Dolan, but a cheater is not you.” I asked and he just sighed.

“I like you okay? I always have. Sophie was just for publicity and maybe to make you jealous.” He says and I lean off of his chest to look him in the eyes.

“These past two months without you and E really fucking sucked. The things you said really hurt me. Why are you just now saying something? Why did you say we were just friends on Ellen? Why now Grayson? Why not two months ago when I needed to hear it?” I was obviously hurt because I felt Grayson’s arms wrap around my bare body as he kissed my shoulder softly.

Originally posted by one-more-kiss-dear

“Because I didn’t want fans to hate on you. I’ve seen the things they would comment on your instagram every so often whenever E, you, and I would hangout. We weren’t even dating and they would say such awful things to you. Then when Sophie and I started seeing each other and the comments the fans would leave on her instagram or twitter, they were ruthless. Sophie can handle it though. She’s used to haters. You aren’t. The last thing I wanted was for us to start dating or anything and then they scare you away or you changing your mind about us.” Grayson answers which I nod in agreement.

“Why did you say those awful things to me when you caught Ethan and I kissing? We weren’t dating.” I said and Grayson just rolled his eyes.

“No we weren’t dating, but you were making out with my brother. How am I supposed to feel? I was so angry and hurt that I wanted you to feel what I felt. After that I told Ethan to stay away from you and not talk to you. Was it mature? No. Do I regret it? Kind of.” Grayson said as his eyes grazed down my body. “But I really do like you Y/N. I like you so much. Even when we weren’t talking for two months I missed you. You were my first and my last thought at the start and end of every day. When I saw you at In N Out with Cameron, I just wanted to walk over and knock him out and then run off with you, but then I remembered something.” His eyes looked down in front of him and he let out a sigh.

“What’s that Gray?” I asked concerned.

“You weren’t mine. I let you go. More like I pushed you into Cameron’s arms. That’s why I came here today. I wanted to get you back. I want you to be mine.” He says as he kisses my lips gently.

“Woah Y/N you’re naked!” We heard Ethan shout. I grabbed the comforter and pulled the blanket up to cover my bare body. “And you’re in bed with Grayson? Okay I need details. Get dressed, I’m going to order a pineapple pizza, and we are going to have a movie night like the old times.” Ethan said as Grayson and I both started giggling. Just then Cameron walked in behind Grayson. Grayson popped his head up and his smile disappeared. Cameron’s eyes immediately went to me. Grayson leaned forward to cover my body from Cameron’s eyes.

“Dude get the fuck out. She’s mine.” Grayson said and gave me a kiss right in front of everyone. When he pulled away Cameron was gone which we all started laughing. Ethan went into the living leaving Grayson and I.

“So I’m yours now am I?” I asked as I threw on my Dolan Twins hoodie with some pajama pants.

“I would really like it if you were mine.” He smiles when I walked over to him slowly. I wrapped my arms around him as my lips attach to his. His arms wrap around me as he just holds me. We pull away and he rests his forehead on mine.

“I would too.” I answered as we walked into the living room and told Ethan everything. About the bickering, Sophie and Gray not being in a real relation, about how Gray claimed we were just friends. Ethan just smiled and laughed at all the craziness we had encountered in just two months, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

That night Grayson spent the night in my room while Ethan fell asleep on the couch. He held me in his arms and he would softly kiss me all throughout the night. We watched The Little Mermaid and we just cuddled.

“I love you.” Grayson mumbled into my hair. “Like a lot.” He kisses my forehead which I just smiled against his warm chest.

“So much for being just friends huh?” I asked with a chuckle which Grayson just scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Y/N I think you and I both know we were never just friends.” He says as he tackles me into a kiss.

Originally posted by kissing-pleasure



Xx Thanks for reading you guys :)

Memories Pennywise x Reader

Requester: Anonymous

Prompt: A Pennywise imagine where he saves you from Henry Bowers and after he does you think he’s going to eat you but he tells you he won’t because he’s been protecting you ever since you were little. Basically he explains it to her like a story and at the end the reader trusts him and he tells her that he will always have her back and protect her. Please just make it fluffy and cute thank you!

Warning: Bullying, death, and Henry Bower’s potty mouth

Note: Got nothing. Enjoy! XD!

Originally posted by thelongforgottenglamorousdays

Originally posted by janellalove

Originally posted by jonroru

You were once again running for you life as Bower’s and his gang chased after you. They constantly did this at a daily basis, chasing you like predator to prey.

“Run little bunny! Run!” Henry chanted.

They called you a bunny or a rabbit because you were just as fast as one and just as vulnerable as one. You were gasping for breath as you ran cursing high school for making you have to carry around so many binders and textbooks.

You eventually stepped wrong and cried out in pain feeling something snap inside your ankle as you tumbled. You whimpered from both fear and pain in the dirt as they surrounded you like a pack of hungry wolves.

“Get up little bunny.” Henry said nudging you roughly with his foot.

They laughed and chuckled as you didn’t move and only made weak noises.

“Get up little bunny. We ain’t done with you yet.” The main bully spat.

When you made no attempt to move Patrick grabbed you by your backpack and yanked you up. You had to lean on your other leg since your ankle where you felt the pain from was a bruised color.

Henry grabbed your chin squeezing your cheeks together as he seemed to examine you like a farmer to livestock. He moved his hand to your mouth and you bit down as hard as you could on the webbing between his thumb and pointer finger.

Henry cried out in pain and had to land 3 blows to your head before finally getting you to let go. He cursed nursing his hand for a few seconds before turning back towards you and punching you right in the face.

You fell to the ground and they all laughed at you.

“Stop laughing me!” You finally spoke, able to push yourself up but you had to lean on your arm.

“Oh so the bunny speaks after all. What was that you said lil’ bunny?” Henry asked getting in your face.

“I said go fuck yourself you mullet headed fucktard.”

He growled and pushed you onto the ground squeezing your throat tightly. You choked and grabbed onto his muscular arms digging your nails into them which only resulted in him squeezing tighter.

“Henry don’t kill her!” Belch warned.

“Shut up!” Henry shouted before turning back toward you.

“You listen to me now punk. If you were think of calling me that nickname again I swear to god-”

“Uh…Henry…” Patrick said.

The boy looked up and saw a clown was heading their way with a bunch of red balloons in his hand. Henry  et go of you just as you were turning blue resulting in you coughing and gasping for air desperately as he stood up.

“What do you want clown?” Henry spat.

“Care for a balloon?” The clown asked gesturing towards his handful of red balloons.

“Go fuck yourself creep.”

The clowns smile turned into a frown and you watched petrified as his eyes turned gold and he started laughing insanely. Henry took a couple steps back as the clown continued to laugh until his eyes fell out and he seemed to be morphing into something.

A wolfs muzzle grew out of his mouth as his clothes and skin ripped apart till all there was left was a werewolf. You wanted to scream but your throat was closed too tightly and your lung lacked the oxygen needed.

You were instead hyperventilating heavily unable to move. When he barked at them Bower’s and his gang scrambled away screaming like girls and tripping on the ground. The werewolf growled and you shuddered tears of absolute fear prickling at your wide eyes.

The once-clown stepped towards you and you scrambled to get up desperate to run. You only got so far before a hand—surprisingly not furry grabbed your wrist. You turned around to see it was the clown again but his eyes were a soft blue.

Still you were terrified from his earlier show of transforming into a werewolf and screamed and fought punching, yanking, scratching, pulling on his hand but that clown was inhumanly strong.

“Help me!” You cried out, “Someone help me please!”

Eventually he pulled you so your back was to his chest with his elongated arms around your waist. You shrieked at the top of your lungs and continuously struggled in vain which only made you out of breath.

You shuddered as he pulled his head down to your neck and to nuzzle and sniff the jugular vein there. You sobbed knowing this was probably the end of the line for you; you were going to end up as one of those kids on missing posters.

He was going to kill you and then eat you like the rest of the kids he has kidnapped.
You could imagine your grave right now.

(Name)

(Last Name)

Born: 1942

Died: 1958

Due to unknown circumstances

You could hear him heavily sniff your neck like he was smelling the fear radiating off your body like a putrid odor.

“Why so scared kiddo?” He asked.

You shuddered at his squeaky voice goosebumps rising across your skin from just his voice alone.

“Don’t be scared kiddo, I’m not going to eat you.” The clown promised.

“I already know your promises are empty. You are going to eat me like the rest of the kids.” You sobbed.

“If I was going to eat you I would’ve done it a long time ago.” He snickered.

“That because you just caught me now.”

“No. Believe it or not kiddo I actually have been watching you well you were still developing in your mother’s body…. Actually, I’ve been watching your entire family’s generation since the 1800’s.”

“I had fallen in love with a human mortal, your very great grandmother. I loved her until the very last day of her existence. That day though, I made a promise to her.”

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