#But I WAS looking at my tags last week and realized '...wow I am still SO mean to him'

[whoiwanttoday]

Hey guys, it is @wildflagsure birthday today and last night she demanded I make a "really good" post for her for her birthday. She can't help it, she's from Greece but lives in the UK and what I have heard is immigrants there are always coming in and demanding things, it's why as a country they decided to set their economy on fire, because if you make your little island completely unlivable then no one will want to move there. Not that tactic I would have taken but then I try not be a hateful bigot, so who am I to talk? Anyway, besides blaming @wildflagsure for all of England's problems (and like… where was she when they lost the Empire? She can't account for her whereabouts) I do want to celebrate her birthday. By talking about myself. I mean, it is my blog, I tagged her twice, I am not sure how much more giving a person can be. I'll drive literally tens of people to her dead blog. Anyway, my favorite thought about Andi, which I will call her from here out because first I am tired of tagging and second I think it looks cooler with the E not on it but also it's short for Antigone and I can change a T to a D for a friend but I'll be dead and buried before I leave off the apostrophe if you insist on shortening Antigone to Anti'e. Anyway, my favorite thought is when she was doing a small radio show live (and doing it wrong, rather than use the service that paid for the songs rights they just played shit off of spotify because literally no one cared) I used to listen every week cause it was fun to support her but also she likes good music. There was a listener request form and I used to submit requests. I did this for a few reasons. One, I learned on tumblr every single person in the world wants more asks. It is exciting and makes them feel special. Also, by sending multiple requests or messages a show it meant they would seem very popular to other listeners and you know, fake it till you make it, that way everyone else would go, "Wow, these guys must be more famous than I realized. I should tell my friends to listen and also send in requests". And then, obviously, I like to control women and tell them what to do, so it was a real rush to send in a song title and then make her do it. Anyway, there was a time when the person she did it with referred to me as, "Our fan". And that got a snap back of, "Actually, is MY friend". It was very defensive and I appreciated that in part it came from the fact that her cohost was trying to diminish me in a way that person liked to do and Andi was willing to stand up and protect me even though honestly, I didn't care. She did, that mattered. I mean, there was a lot going on there because her cohost was one of those lowkey monsters you meet in your late teens and early 20's who you find compelling because you are too young to know better but also because you are insecure and the fact that they have absolutely no moral center is appealing because it sure must be nice to not be insecure and upset and worried about things all the time. Andi eventually moved on, don't worry. Actually, it's really cool to see that she has matured into just a totally cool as fuck lesbian bad ass. I mean, she was always those things but now she has the confidence and a really cool life that she always was going to have but I bet she was unaware of. Like, she has her own place, she has a hot girlfriend, she eats cool meals, and she can get you any drugs you want. It's pretty cool.

Anyway, today I am posting Georgia Ellenwood because in my experience Andi loves Olympic Athletes. She always goes on that she's glad someone is honoring Zeus properly. Now, sadly, Georgia Ellenwood is not going to the Olympics this year because she is still recovering from an injury. That kind of thing is always sad, athletes only have so many chances but I think she has a good future ahead of her even outside of sports because she is charming and friendly and well… looks like she does. It's not hard to imagine her being successful doing other things. And even if she felt like a good pick today because even if she isn't going to the Olympics I am willing to bet @wildflagsure would be willing to burn down a second island nation to sleep with her. Today I want to fuck Georgia Ellenwood.

[bloomingstay]

favorite kpop group tag~ thank you @binniesbang!

who is your favorite kpop group?

stray kids, if that was any surprise

which member sparked your interest first?

hyunjin! i've almost always been pulled in by the dancer (lee know i know but) specifically the style of dance hyunjin excels in. the isolation is so satisfying and cool. for some reason choreo always gets a song stuck in my head??

But also!! I had heard they produced their own music and that really got me interested in kpop again

who was your first bias?

chris bang 🤍 went from zero to ult within no more than two days tbh…

what makes them your current bias?

oh god. um. i'll put this in the least embarrassing way possible. (this is a kpop tumblr blog I should probably get over it)

it was a particularly bad year. i stumbled upon their silly videos (thank you stay for the edits<3) and they made me laugh. then i started seeing clips of chans room and him interacting with the boys and just like... he's so wonderful. he's generous and kind and loving and thoughtful. just a shy lil guy who also happens to be a flirt and a fucking dork and it's cute man idk shut upp

who is your bias wrecker?

i was certain i'd never have one, i truly adore each of those boys so so much.

i was however proven wrong after a very sweet, silly compilation of binnie being ridiculous. followed by a face cam of his sclass performance in the supreme jersey?? and the curls?? he has such amazing stage presence and he's a great dancer. but he kept going from his cute sweet binnie expressions looking like he was just so into it and having fun, to the "dark rapper" eyes and commanding stage presence. and like, wow. 🖤 i am a sucker for that kind of duality.

which members are you currently obsessing over that aren't your bias/wrecker?

in another reality han is my wrecker. that boy is the epitome of what i used to look for in guys: babygirl. lol. well, and insanely talented and funny and everything. I adore him

after befriending a couple seungmin stans, i started looking for pics and clips to send them and found myself so incredibly impressed with him and touched by some of the things he's said and done. plus he’s a funny little shit.

hwang hyunjin is such a sweet boy. since we got producer jinnie on the last album i have been looking back and just so impressed with his growth 🤍

when did you first discover the group?

(Upon editing I realize I read this as ‘how’ but oh well)

okokok so

i was a kpop fan 2014-2017 and went all in. kcon and concerts the whole thing

but then i was just on my usual 6 hour yt shorts binge as i tried to fall asleep and saw skz reacting to the "your eyes" mv, specifically felix's part, obviously. i watched it like 12 times just cry laughing at han screaming, hyunjin trying to escape, channie hiding behind his hands and squealing. it was just so funny to see a group kind of clowning their own shit? i thought they were hilarious.

then i saw julien (solomita) had reacted to 'topline' and i was soooo into it. immediately went to watch some mvs and decided cool i'll be a totally normal casual fan of this group’s music….. :)

THEN a lovely lady i'd followed on my 10 year old tumblr account posted about skz. i messaged her that I’d finally decided to check them out and she was kind enough to answer questions and entertain my onslaught of messages as I screamed about how much I love these boys. and she still does everyday so. thank you hana 🌸

have you ever been to one of their concerts?

not yet~

what are some of your favorite songs by them?

THIS SECTION TOOK ME WAY TOO LONG. disclaimer: I absolutely could not include non ot8 this would’ve been 30 songs (I’m probably going to cheat)

Hall of fame. bitch ever since that live stage (which was the first time I’d heard it) I’ve listened to the sclass album 3 times a week no joke, goddamn it’s so good. so just know, i pulled almost every song from that album off this list when i made cuts

levanter. a hard pill to swallow mid relationship struggles and holds a lot of meaning for me.

secret secret. i can't get over how professional this song sounds and how it was just a few years in?

leave. where i got my username~ like I said, relationship stuff. You have not yet really bloomed When the new season comes I hope the warmth will make you bloom Into a flower that never dies

sclass. *bling bling* HIPHOPSTEP. such a fucking chaotic mess of a jam.

megaverse. the breakdown? MEGAPHONE. Han, bitch? We make the rules nobody can hold me yeaaahhh. Your body shakes - STRAY KIDS EVERYWHERE ALL AROUND THE WORLD. Sorry, flawless.

gods menu. ate, bitch. chan was something the fuck else

domino. neeed I say more

social path is bomb

grow up. read lyrics for the first time just now ow

eternity. told u I’d cheat.

love poem. big cheat my list worth it

I am going to be so mad when I realize I missed a song I listen to 7 times a day but been doin this for 2 hours so I’m calling it. Also forgive me I’m still working through the discography (backwards) and haven’t listened to the full first couple albums.

the adhd is allowing no further focus or thought so i will be tagging the same friends as my last tag post no pressure <3

@channieblossoms @skzms @roseykat @thefantasyden @seungsungracha @astraysis @channieswife

Thank you again @binniesbang for tagging me~!

[needsmoresleepwrites]

When Sakura is added to the Furin first year group chat and his cellphone use starts to increase, nobody thinks to tell him about the dangers of being online, meeting up with strangers, or suspicious ads. (KameSaku, TogaSaku)

Dogg on Premise (Clean Up After)

Read on AO3

tags: Sakura and cellphone, stranger meetup, 0721, oral

A/N: I wrote some self-indulgent 0721 day (hj) content, hehe. My first contribution to windbreaker. Since it's NSFW, this post is only an excerpt, check out the full fic on AO3

——————————————————————————

When Sakura is added to the Furin first year group chat and his cellphone use starts to increase, nobody thinks to tell him about the dangers of being online, meeting up with strangers, or suspicious ads. 

He grumbles as he walks across a train crossing. He’d seen it a few times during patrol, but had never ventured further since it technically wasn’t Furin territory anymore. He frowns as he goes under, noticing the change in atmosphere immediately. He tries not to let that bother him. He’d lived in sketchier places before but as he walks down the road full of bars and nightlife, he wonders if maybe he took a wrong turn somewhere. He blushes when he sees a couple kissing in front of a shop while the owner smokes, uncaring of how heated they’re becoming

He pulls out his phone and opens up the last conversation he had before heading over

unknown number, 8:47pm <<lets meet tonight <<i have a few minutes to spare <<make sure not to tell anyone, ok ;)

me, 8:55pm >>why the hell not

unknown number, 8:56pm <<a bit unfair to gang up on me like that dont you think <<not that i cant handle a few more bodies

me, 9:02pm >>only cowards fight dirty 1on1 it is

unknown number, 9:03pm <<oh that came faster than the last message <<looks like youre getting better with those fingers of yours <<come here: places.app.wbd/9RDMzps69T?x_t=bnr

me, 9:08pm >>shut up

me, 9:09pm >>!

Unknown number, 9:10pm <<wwwww <<just follow the signs

He feels himself get mad just thinking about the conversation and when he taps the link to open the location, he can’t help but let his finger linger with a little too much force. Instead of opening the link, a menu opens and he curses

He squints at the options and (gently) clicks open . When it does, he realizes he is in the right place and he’s only a few paces away. 

“Aren’t you a cutie? New around here?” a voice calls out from his right and he turns to find a slim man making pawing gestures at him. 

Sakura frowns, “So what if I am?”

The man laughs at his response and Sakura’s frown drops when he doesn’t detect any malice. The people in this town really are weird. They gave him food, tried to treat his wounds, called out greetings whenever they saw him, and now they even laughed like they’d been friends for ages. Even after being here for a few weeks, it was hard to get used to this feeling of community.

The man gestures him over, “I’m surprised nobody’s picked you up yet. Where ya headed?”

When Sakura comes closer, phone still in his hand, the stranger throws an arm around his waist, pulling him in close. Sakura freezes, then blushes to the tips of his ears, “W-Why are you so damn close, huh?! Are you tryna pick a fight?!”

He tries to move away, but the stranger holds him tight, “Wow, that really is your natural hair color, isn’t it?”

Sakura goes rigid for a different reason. He growls, “Let go.”

The stranger tries to soothe him by rubbing his side and without his Furin jacket, Sakura feels the touch a little too closely. His face lights up again. The stranger smiles, “Come on, don’t get mad. I think it suits you. You’re cute, but you have a bit of a temper. Now,” he says, grabbing Sakura’s hand to see his phone’s screen, “where are you…”

He lets go immediately, as if Sakura had burned him somehow, and steps back. Sakura can finally breathe a little easier but the guy seems a little nervous now, “Oh, didn’t realize you were one of his guys. My bad.”

Sakura raises a brow but doesn’t get a chance to say much else to the guy. Before the stranger retreats into the bar behind him, he says, “Just go down that way. It’s hard to miss.”

“Thanks,” Sakura mumbles, “I guess…”

Alone once more, he walks down the small street the stranger had pointed at. It was narrow. Too narrow, he vaguely thinks, noticing that it would only fit two people walking shoulder-to-shoulder. He snickers, Three, if one of them is Sugishita. Except it was more likely he’d take up the whole width for himself, refusing to walk next to anyone but Umemiya…

The path is mostly dark and the only reason Sakura isn’t stumbling over himself is that every few steps, a light will turn on to light his way. They turn off once he’s passed them, leaving the way he came bathed in darkness. It’s a perfect place to get attacked… But this doesn’t bother him. He’s used to fighting in the open and closed quarters. He won’t let anyone get the upper hand, no matter the location

By the time he finally emerges, the liveliness of the main street feels like something he imagined. 

Instead, he finds himself looking at a giant abandoned building. When he takes out his phone again, the app says he’s arrived.

He grins.

The way the building has been claimed by art and stickers reminds him of Furin High. No place on its surface is left unblemished. He feels himself get excited, That guy must be the real deal if people react to this place like that guy! Sakura is glad he answered that message. He knew that he couldn’t get to the top alone and he was glad he had Suou and Nirei on his side to help him, but there was still a lot he needed to do. Just because he had friends now, didn’t mean he could slack off in his training

He needed to get stronger if he wanted to get to the top and stay there. 

Except that now that he’s here, he’s not sure where to go. He tries going through the front, but finds the door locked. He even pounds on it a few times and calls out, but nothing happens. The place truly appears to be abandoned.

<<just follow the signs

He frowns, “What signs?”

It takes a bit of searching, but the only sign he manages to find is a worn out “dog on premise” sign. Like the rest of the building, it’s been graffitied. There’s an extra “g” next to “dog” and stickers cover the edges. There’s also something like spilled paint running down the top and it makes the letters look messy and runny. At the bottom, it reads ‘clean up after’. 

“What does that mean?” he wonders aloud and walks toward the little alcove the sign is affixed to. There are some stairs going down and he frowns again. He’s starting to realize this place is a bit strange. But I’m already here, and he didn’t need anyone thinking he’d ran away!

To his surprise, the door isn’t locked. He opens it and finds himself in a bathroom. The light flickers momentarily

There are three stalls and a two person sink. There’s also another door at the end of the room. He raises a brow. Perhaps it used to be a staff entrance? But when he opens the door, the entrance has been bricked off. 

“The hell…”

That’s when he realizes he’s not alone. There’s a tapping sound, like wood on floor and he turns around quickly, legs apart and arms raised, “Who’s there!”

“Ahhh,” a male voice answers, “You’re here.”

It’s coming from the first stall and he’s not sure how he missed the clogged feet when he’d walked in. They stop tapping against the floor. 

Sakura is beyond confused, “You’re…in the toilet?”

The voice laughs, “That’s right.”

Neither says anything for a moment and Sakura briefly wonders if someone did attack him on the street and managed to knock him out. This feels a little too surreal. 

“Are you,” he begins, “...almost done?”

The man makes a long contemplative sound, “No, not really. Just started actually.”

Sakura hears the sound of clothes being moved around, but the feet stay in place, unbothered, “Why don’t you join me in the next stall?”

Sakura’s brows are furrowed so tightly, he thinks this is what the grandmas mean when they say he shouldn’t frown so much or his face will stay stuck like that, “What? I don’t need to use the toilet! And why aren’t you ready? I’m not here to play games!”

He’s not sure when he lowered his arms, but he raises them again. 

The man laughs and then grunts, like he’s hit himself, except that the only noise Sakura can still hear is the sound of clothes. When he swallows, the sound his throat makes is too loud. He feels a sense of something he can’t name run down his spine and he suddenly wishes Kotoha hadn’t taken his Furin jacket. But she’d insisted it needed some mending, a member of Bofurin can’t go walking around looking like this, have some pride! 

Not like a jacket can do anything in a fight anyway…

The guy knocks on the wall of his stall, “Come on. I promise it’ll be fine.”

Sakura shakes his head, “No, you come out here! Or I’ll go wait outside!”

“Sakura.” So far, the voice had been playful but the way the man says his name is strict. Sakura shivers, “Go into the stall next to mine.”

His face goes red, why the hell am I blushing?!

But he realizes that there’s only so much he can do. He can either walk away, which he doesn’t want to do after coming so far. He can bust down the door, which he doesn’t want to do. He might like to fight, but he wouldn’t attack someone when they’re on the toilet! Or he could listen and just wait…in the stall next to him. He remembers the reaction of the guy from before and grits his teeth, “Fine!”

The voice becomes playful again, “Good boy.”

Continue on AO3

[thewritingofspencerrose]

M.Hughes Masterlist

First Day on the Job

It's chilly in the arena when we enter, hand in hand, for my first day.

Only a week into living here and I still don't fully think this has all set in.

I may be working on a medical team, but I'm going to be the first stop of all injured players as soon as they're off the ice.

It's all on me.

"Hey, what's going on in there?" A physical knocking on my forehead brings me from my thoughts, Trevor's smile being the first thing in front of me, mocking and coy.

Part of me wants to just smile and say I dazed off, but this is Trev, he's my partner in

"What if someone bleeds out? Or worse, what if everyone hates me?"

"What's the worst scenario?" Jamie questions from our side, not even attempting to save his laugh, Trevor pulling me closer to his body. "Everyone hating you?"

"You do realize everyone loves you right?" They're tag-teaming my nerves right now, and honestly I'm not even sure that'll be enough.

No exam prepared me for the nauseous anxiety that starting a lead job would bring.

"They don't know me!" It's a lame argument, but valid all the same as I pause just outside the locker room door. I know I'm allowed in. It's where I've been instructed to meet Coach Cronin and introduce myself to the boys.

"We have all heard literally everything about you, I'm pretty sure I could tell you things about yourself that you don't even know, Mags," his words are meant to be assuring, but assuring isn't loading properly right now.

"Then what if I don't live up to their idea of me?"

Even if I hadn't already been on the edge of a breakdown, the look on Trevor's face as he takes my shoulders, his shoulders slumped and eyes downcast.

"The boys already love you because I love you, and that's never going to change. So we're going to march your cute little ass into this lockerroom and wow everyone with all that Latin-anatomy-nonsense that we studied the last four years, got it?"

Sorry Dad, you better be saving for a wedding.

I just smile though, small and wide while he returns my look. But Jamie's groaning, moaning on about something involving us getting a room, and I can hear the sound of staff coming down the hall.

"Okay, let's get this over with so I can go home and rant about it with Q."

The boys both laugh, but Jamie is the one to open the door, Trev taking ahold of my hand with one of his, his other covering my eyes as he leads me into the loud atmosphere.

"Okay boys! Put 'em away! My girls here and unless you break 'em I want them nowhere near her eyeline!" Nevermind on the wedding, I may just kill him here and now.

"Trevor Zegras!" The team laughs loudly, oohing and ahhing while I pry Trev's hand off, and I can't help but laugh as I look out around me.

These boys are going to make me cry. Correction, I am crying.

"You guys-"

Trevor's hands wrap around my waist, chin resting on my shoulder and I can feel his smile. "Welcome to the team, Baby."

"And welcome to the team from the rest of us," the one I know to be Mason greets, everyone around clapping. "I'm not going to call you baby, because I value my life, but we're all really glad you're here, Margaret."

"Maggie," I correct softly, Mason's smile growing as Leo jumps up like a happy puppy.

"We get nickname privileges?"

There's a joy throughout the room as I take in his smile, the banner saying CONGRATULATIONS in Ducks colors, balloons and all sprawled about.

How could I not give these boys nickname privileges when they seem just as excited to see me as they would an old friend. It's like they're seeing Trev or Jamie after a long break.

"Of course you do, as long as y'all keep from getting too beat up," I offer, sticking out a hand. "Deal?"

"Deal to do our best," Leo accepts, shaking my hand as some of the veterans laugh.

Gudas just chuckling and shaking his head as he watches us both. "She's going to run this whole show."

[kanguin]

That poem hit me hard wow. Idk why I want to open up on Tumblr of all places but idk. I never share personal stuff in posts. Just oversharing in tags.

So yeah. I'm depressed. Depressed as shit. I quit my job recently because the commute, the low pay, and the high social energy cost of making 100+ phone calls a day just. Sucked the life out of me. Even my mother and fiance could see it. But this just marks burnout number... 4? I believe. I've experienced burnout and mental collapse 4 times now in the past decade. 4 years between the first two, 5 between the next two, and now just 1 year between this one and the last. And now I'm supposed to look for a job I like again, but... I don't know what I'd like. I'm not exactly enjoying life right now. And the thought of selling more of my life for money is not putting me in a good mental spot.

I don't play video games anymore. I haven't been able to do so for more than a couple weeks a year in ages. I never talk to my friends one on one anymore. I have no hobbies to speak of, really, aside from messing around on my computer, but it's not like I have the space to engage in any hobbies anyway since my broke ass still lives with my mom. I have my fiance living with me now, but while they're an emotional anchor, we have no space to our own besides the bedroom and a bonus room, but the latter is still technically a public space we can't decorate ourselves or use for painting or hobbies.

I feel stuck and miserable. I want to move out, I want my own home and space to be unbothered in, I want my own fridge and pantry with my own food, and to be able to be out of my bedroom without being on call for sudden required tasks or unwelcome socialization. I want a space to engage in hobbies; sculpting, painting, building, working with my hands. I want to be able to operate on my own schedule and not have to compromise on when is too late to start a task or eat a meal. I want to be able to start HRT in the privacy of my own home, so that I don't have to disclose my transition until I'm ready. I want... Freedom. I want to be able to live a life that feels mine, and not like I'm living in borrowed space and time.

But all of that requires money, and that just leads to a catch 22. I need money to achieve my desires, but need a job to get money. But I need a job I am happy doing so as not to burnout a 5th time, but I need to be able to enjoy life and work in the first place for that. And if I already enjoyed my life I wouldn't be in such a bad spot mentally.

I used to be so hopeful and determined for my future, but it's been 6-7 years since I graduated college with my bachelor's, and by now I've all but lost hope things will ever change. This genuinely feels like this is it, I'll be stuck here in this house until my mother dies, I get kicked out, or my heart takes me to an early grave like my father.

My next therapy appointment isn't for two weeks. I sure hope I stay on topic next time, because I only ever realized all the things I forgot to cover after the appointment. Even though I had my issues well memorized and written down.

...

If anyone actually reads this long ass ramble, I'm sorry. It's nearly 5am for me writing this.

.

..

To be honest, one of the aspects of my personality I miss the most is my love of making and keeping friends. Not that I was ever good at it, but I always enjoyed getting to know someone knew, and of course I loved learning more about my existing friends, too. There are so many people I can think of where I go "wow, I wish I had the energy to get to know them", but I can't really do that anymore in good conscience. Anyone I try and befriend nowadays is just going to get abandoned in a month or two when my overwhelming shame drive me to ghosting them.

[gyokujyn]

I got tagged by @hypnxrchy (a music tag game??? be still, my heart!)

The rules are shuffle your ‘on repeat’ playlist and list the first 10 songs that play, then tag 10 people. (I don't have an 'on repeat' playlist so I'm hitting random and posting the first 1-2 songs from each playlist I've listened to in the past week. It is blatantly obvious to me where the playlists switch over, lol, and that amuses me.)

I am looking at this list and I have just realized that this doesn't seem to show explicit content while editing on mobile, so blanket warning that several of these songs have either explicit language or content. Hope it shows once posted!

No pressure tags:

@rosduncan @gunshou @annotated-catastrophe @blackwood4stucky @vivelarevolution13 @the-kestrels-feather @lovemesomerafael @katie-delaney @ellethespaceunicorn @olla-kalla

[cherryluvrx3]

meat lovers amirite??

Dave Strider x Reader x Karkat Vantas

Chapter 4

Okay.

This has gotta be one of the worst days ever.

Like if there was a shitty day tournament, this day would’ve made it to the semi finals at LEAST . Actually no, I’m sure there’s people out there dealing with way more horrible shit but still.

First, I barely slept last night and when I did finally fall asleep, I ended up forgetting to put my alarm so I was late and my first period teacher chewed me out (can’t stand that bitch). Then later at gym, I was messing around with Gamzee, shooting hoops, and then MY PANTS FUCKING RIPPED!!! It wasn’t super noticeable but I spent the whole day wondering if people could see my lower ass cheek. All because I was ballin'. Oh, and as if my clothes weren’t ruined enough, Terezi accidently squirted ketchup on my shirt during lunch. Then I got my last period’s test back and a big fat F was the final slap to the face.

Now school’s over, it’s windy as fuck outside and I’m walking shamefully back home, running on 3 hours of sleep, my ass cheek hanging out, and crusty ketchup on my shirt. I probably look as miserable as a soggy kitten.

I tugged my shirt down again to cover my ass with a huff. Oh and my stomach growling just reminded me that lunch today was also ass so I skipped it and am currently starving. It’s been about a week and so I got a new allowance and money to use so I could buy lunch I guess. Or maybe just a snack since I have pasta at home? It’s gotta be a comfort food though, I need some damn comforting after today. Maybe something sweet but what could I..

I stopped in front of a Pizza Hut poster advertising their sweet little cinnabons for only $5 bucks! Yeah I could totally go for those right about now.

I wonder if Dave works today? I could eat some sweeties while talkin’ up a sweetie- okay that was mad cringe I’m sorry.

Before me was a golden opportunity to finally ask his number! And if he says no.. then this’ll really be one of my worst moments ever. But I mean at least I’ll get cinnabons at the end of the day?

I took a deep breath and walked in, hearing a little bell jingle.

Behind the cash register was a goofy lookin kid with black hair and glasses but.. I looked around and.. No Dave.

I try not to let disappointment show on my face as he greeted me with a “Welcome to Pizza Hut how can I take your order?”

“Uh yeah can I get a 5 piece order of cinnabons please? That’s all” I say and give him the money. “Alright, I’ll get you them right now.” and as he goes to grab them from their little oven thing, I hear a jingle as the door behind me opens and there walks in an exasperated Dave.

“John- oh..uh hey?” He awkwardly greets me as he heads behind the counter. “Hey.” I say nervously. “Wow you look like shit- I mean-” “Dave!” The guy who I’m guessing is John slaps his shoulder. It’s then I realize the wind probably whipped my hair in all types of crazy ways. “Nah it’s fine.. I look like shit ‘cause I’ve had a shit day..” I sigh as I grab my cinnabons from John. “Tell me about it, today’s been shit for me too! No joke, I almost got jumped.” Dave threw his arms up for dramatic effect.

“Huh-” “What?? Are you alright?” John asked, looking over Dave as if he would suddenly see any new injuries.

“Yeah I’m okay, I skedaddled and ran to the car- had to drop the pizza though.” He squeezed past John and went behind the counter to hang the car keys on a little hook that held a few other types of keys.

“Alright so what happened?” I asked and as Dave was about to answer, another guy with black hair and a mean face came out from the back. “The hell you’d get into this time, Strider?” He crossed his arm and asked in an irritated, accusatory tone.

“I’m literally innocent! I have done no wrong doings in the history of ever. I don’t know why you’d immediately think it’s my fault.” Dave grumbled while the other guy who’s name tag seemed to read ‘Karkat’ scoffed.

“But like I was saying,” Dave side eyed Karkat, or at least I think he did, hard to tell with the shades, “What had happened was this,” he lifted himself up to sit on the counter, John sat on a little chair by the register and Karkat stood near John. I was leaning on the counter with my elbows, intent on hearing whatever the tea was.

“Me, a valued, trustable worker, was just doing my job of delivering pizzas. I noticed the address was in a bit of a sketchy neighborhood but I thought to myself, ‘Y'know what Dave? Maybe these guys are alright citizens. Who are you to judge a book by it’s trashy, bullet riddled cover?’ right?” He began, “Then I stroll up to this ghetto house and knock on the door, it opens and low and behold there’s a fine looking gentleman that could be a prime example of the damage inbreeding does to a human,” I couldn’t help but snicker and John let out a few giggles too, “I says, “Hello sir, I have your pizza, the total is $14.99” and he just hands me a $10. I go, “Sorry sir but it seems you haven’t given me enough to pay, I can’t give you the pizza” and maybe he was having a shit day, like- his sister probably just broke up with him or something and I guess that was just the last straw cause dude just starts fuckin’ yelling at me.

Can’t lie I was scared, shaking in my fuckin’ boots at this meth addicted hillbilly hick that’s suddenly grabbing me by the collar of my shirt and shaking me like in a cartoon or something- dude was about to start winding up his fist to blow a punch hard enough to make me see little animated swirling stars 'n shit, seriously,” Dave laughs while speaking, clearly enjoying his own jokes, “And so, since I’m a big strong man, I shove the guy back, hard, and dude falls back into the house. Guess he had some friends over and I swear they must’ve just finished snorting up lines because I could see they had white dust on their faces and,” he leaned into me, “ I didn’t see no powdered donuts.” I bit my lip to hold in my laugh.

“So his buddies come, tryna back him up I guess. They start rolling up their sleeves ‘n shit and, I’m a man who picks and chooses his battles, and a battle between me and 4 hillbillies off a few lines of coke just ain’t a fight I wanna fight. So I just took off running and I guess druggies don’t have good balance cause them junkies was limping and hobbling after me as I booked it to the car. One of them grabbed me and I just threw the pizza at him and kept going.” He laughed and hopped off the counter to go to the little fridge they stored drinks in and get himself a coke.

I looked back and saw John who was snorting and giggling the whole time and Karkat who was trying to hold back a smile. Of course, I was cheesing hard through the whole story. Dave just has this way of pulling people in and the way he speaks just paints a perfect picture for telling stories.

“So yep, that’s that. Lost a good pizza and got no money. By the way, your hair’s still fucked dude.” Dave says after taking a sip of his soda.

“Ugh shit-” I immediately try to pat down any and all stray hairs, combing through the strands with my fingers.

“Who the hell even is this?” Karkat asks as if he suddenly noticed my presence and something about it makes me feel even more embarrassed, like I was intruding on something private.

“Oh uh, I’m just a customer haha..” I chuckle awkwardly and avert my gaze, I could still see John swat his shoulder and whisper ‘ rude!’’ Out of the corner of my eye.

“So eh.. you said you were having a bad day..?” John asks awkwardly as if trying to make me feel better. “Oh uh.. yeah but we don’t have to talk about it- I mean I’m sure you’ve guys got work-” “Nah go ahead, not like we’re doing anything anyways.” Dave says, encouraging me to speak, probably because he didn't wanna go back to work just yet.

“Well it’s not anything crazy like with you, just annoying school shit and I got a big ol’ ketchup stain on my shirt plus ripped pants.” I sigh.

I hear John whisper “ oh my god like SpongeBob ,” and Karkat giving him a down right dirty look.

“Oh and I guess my hairs all wack too.” I say and go back to trying to fix it. “Well if ya want we can let you use the bathroom and you can fix it in the mirror.” Dave offers and lifts the little counter door, inviting me in.

“Our bathroom is for employees only. ” Karkat said, also giving me a dirty look.

“Karkat, quit being such a fuckin’ wet blanket.” Dave rolled his eyes I think? and grabbed me by my arm, leading me to the bathroom.

——————

The door clicked as I went inside and Dave walked back out to the front. “Did they even buy anything?” Karkat asked John who was about to start mopping as if he didn’t two days ago. “Uh yeah they bought some cinnabons- but I guess they’re cold now.” He said as he picked up the box left on the counter.

“I’ll replace them with some warmer ones.” Dave said and took the box, switching places with another in the little oven.

“Why’re you doing all that for?”

“Kat," he sighed, "it doesn’t take much to be a little nice y’know? You of all people should be nice to them, actually, since that’s the dude who’s pizza ya burnt.” Dave said as he rolled the mop bucket to John.

“…really..?”

“Yep.”

“You burnt a pizza?”

Karkat didn’t answer, he just went to the back. In all honesty he did feel a bit guilty, actually, no. A better word was embarrassed.

Embarrassed that he seriously felt jealous enough to do something so petty. After a bit of thinking, Dave was right, it didn’t take much to be nice.

——————

I put some water in my hands and used it to better stick my frizzy hair down. After turning around to take a better look at my butt and see if you really could see my ass through the tear, there was a knock on the door.

I opened it and there was Karkat, holding some clothes and avoiding eye contact.

“Your clothes are trashed right? Here you can wear mine.” He grumbled. I just stood in silence, semi confused and in disbelief because I just didn’t think he’d be the type to offer me anything let alone a spare change of clothes.

“They’re clean if that’s what you're worried about. I’ll just walk home in my uniform. I need to wash it anyways..” He said and pushed the clothes into my hands.

“Uhm.. thanks! Seriously you’re a life saver, I could kiss you- do you want a kiss?” I puckered up my lips and watched as he practically jumped back and screamed “HELL NO!”

I snickered and said it was a joke! Before closing the door to change.

Luckily his baggy sweater fit and his joggers could be adjusted by the strings. I shoved my clothes in my backpack and walked out.

John mopped about half the store and Dave and Karkat were talking behind the register.

“Woah I didn’t think you’d give them your own personal threads, Kat. You having a random character redemption arc?” Dave teased and bumped Karkat’s shoulder, only to get bumped back harder with a “Shut the hell up, Dickbag Strider!”

“Haha yeah thanks again Karkat!” I smile and leave from behind the counter to grab my temporarily forgotten cinnabons.

“It’s fine… uh?”

“Oh yeah, my name’s (Y/n) by the way.”

“Right.”

I stood there for a bit before I remembered my second reason for coming here, getting Dave’s number.

Okay, act cool and natural.. gently slide trading numbers into the conversation-

“Do you- like need anything else or…?”

“Can I have your number?”

Oh wow, how smooth.

“I mean! All of your numbers ha! You guys all seem- uh really....cool..? Besides! I wanna give these clothes back at some point..” I say awkwardly while being stared down by all three Pizza Hut boys.

“Well yeah, me, I’m cool , not too sure about Karkat and John though.” Dave laughs while John lets out an offended “ hey!” and Karkat bumps his shoulder again.

John is the first to walk over to me, phone in hand, “Uh here.. do you have pesterchum? I like using it more than regular texting.” “Nerd.” "Okayy I see you Rizzard of Oz." “ Shut up!” I type in my handle while the other two pull out their phones.

I put my phone away after we all trade information and pick up my cinnabons once again.

“Alright, it’s been nice. Talk to you guys later!” I waved and walked out the door.

——————-

“Soo like… who is that guy seriously?”

“Hell if I know.” Dave answered Karkat before going to the bathroom to pee.

“I mean, the guy seemed pretty nice, maybe they just want friends?”

“I don’t really think friendship is exactly what they’re looking for.” Karkat mumbled. He noticed how when they asked for a phone number, they were asking Dave specifically. He doesn't think he's especially good at reading people's intentions but it doesn't take a genius to tell they were interested in Dave.

Thinking of them as competition is dumb, it’s not like they’re competing for anything-

“Hey Kat! You wanna sneak out for lunch at school tomorrow morning? I was thinking we could eat at Panda Express or something.” Dave smiled and Karkat felt that if Dave asked for anything with a look like that on his face, he’d say yes.

“Sure..” he grumbled and pulled away before Dave could notice his reddening face.

Is it going to be a competition?

———

a/n its not gonna be a competition theyre all gonna kiss and hold hands… #polyamoryftw

[shipcestuous]

The Fall of the House of Usher

Anon #1: I first read Poe's 'The Fall of the House of Usher' 15 years ago as a teen and I have been in love with it ever since. When I saw the promo stills and read the synopsis last month for the show that just came out, I was a bit weirded out by the modernized vibe in the stills, but seeing it called an 'anthology' and that it would explore multiple stories by Poe, I thought that we might just get the actually story of the House of Usher in one or two eps, just a bit quirky and... well, modernized. So I was still excited. It took me 5 min in the tag last week to realize they had completely screwed up the story. I didn't even doubt my assessment to go 'oh look, I was right after all' now that I've read on this blog that people who watched it were hugely disappointed.

I am still baffled that they could mess this up. It's literally one short story involving a mansion, the owner, his dead sister, the first-person POV guest, and the irrefutable incest in the owner and his not-so-dead-after-all sister's family tree. I'm sure someone served the owner and the guest dinner. I don't even remember their existence for them to be an important presence in the story. Seriously how can you screw this up?

Anon #2: When it comes to House of Usher, I’ve only seen the Vincent Price one. They don’t have the incest be canon (made in 60s and all), but it did seem to be implied. Also, wow, I didn’t realize how many adaptations there were of that story!

@leopard-skin-pillbox-hat-ok: I was watching House of Usher thinking about the future ship (Madeleine x Roderick) that I would be obsessive about it… imagine my surprise when there’s absolutely nothing there! 💀

@winterborn-muse: Netflix's "Fall of the House of Usher" may not be canon but in my opinion it's definitely shippable. Especially in their younger years/flashback scenes. One in particular... phew.

----

Previous discussion here.

I finished watching The Fall of the House Usher so I can finally answer these asks.

It's crazy how different it is from the original story. I almost wonder if Flanagan came up with the story and then added in the Poe elements later, maybe even after it was already written. I think it's only called "The Fall of the House of Usher" because that's such an awesome title and everyone knows it. And also because Hollywood is scared no one will watch something original. There was obviously no attempt made to adapt the story itself (or the other Poe stories), except superficially.

I didn't mean that to sound too negative, because although I am disappointed this wasn't what it might have been, I thought it was fairly entertaining and well written. It just wasn't what I was hoping for, and what I made the mistake of expecting. The premise of solid, I just wish it hadn't masqueraded as something else. Also, the "House of Usher" title just doesn't have the same power or vibe when Roderick and Madeline are really the first generation, and then there's Roderick's kids and 1 grandchild and that's all.

The Vincent Price version being coy about the incest is understandable. Why Mike Flanagan didn't take the opportunity to include incest here is baffling. I can only think that he didn't want anyone to accuse him of copying Game of Thrones. But even leaving the original story aside, in which incest was implied, look at the potential here: rich, decadent family with lots of siblings? Sibling matriarch and patriarch bonded by a traumatic childhood and murder?

Roderick and Madeline are definitely not canon at all in this version (if it can be called that?), but I completely agree that they were shippable. They were very close, life partners really, and seemed to love each other more than they loved anyone else.

I love the gift of the jewels that Roderick got for Madeline because it was so thoughtful and showed how well he knew her, on top of how expensive and difficult it was to get. He basically called her a goddess.

But the flashbacks were agreeably the best stuff. Obviously when Roderick and Madeline were sharing a bed:

Not that that's the craziest thing in the world after what they had just been through.

Then you've got Madeline not liking Roderick's wife, and Roderick's wife not liking Madeline.

I think they were also called "king and queen" once and Roderick is referred to as Gatsby and Madeline as Daisy.

Plus just the whole deal, the way Carla Gugino's character makes a deal with them together, and treats them as a single unit, and says they'll die together just like they came into the world together.

So at least there was some very shippy stuff.

But man oh man, the wasted opportunities here. smh

[hijack711]

CHAPTER 1:

Tag(s): fluff, story building

"And the award for Group of the Year goes to... UNITY!!!" - the MC announced

The MC's announcement marked another success for Unity. The entire arena then was filled with the cheers of the K-pop community.

On the way up to receiving the award, the six members of Unity were still overwhelmed by the vibrant atmosphere and the sound of fanchant coming from all sides even though they were no longer rookies just entering showbiz.

After receiving the trophy, it was time to make a statement. The two maknaes immediately avoided the mic not wanting to be the ones to make the speech because they knew they would stutter and humiliate the group and themselves. Realizing that Ivy and Rehn immediately understood each other even though they only made eye contact.

"Hello everyone, WE ARE UNITY!" - The whole group

"Thank you so much everyone for voting for our performance and supporting our newly released album. Wow, I'm talking seriously today, it doesn't seem like the Rehn you know, huh?" - Rehn

Exactly like what Rehn had said, the guy was famous for making jokes in grave situations even though he held the position of the leader of the group, and it was not just known to K-pop fans. That was why many of the audience found it funny when Unity's eldest brother became strangely serious when giving the speech.

"Welp, we are very grateful for everyone's support, Unions, our company as well as the staff, thanks to it Unity has been able to go this far, and I also want to reveal that the credit for the success of our album this time doesn't only belong to the members, the crew, but also to the hidden contributor." - Ivy spoke while glancing purposefully in Rehn's direction

Upon hearing that statement, the usually cunning and brave leader suddenly stood still and looked at his big sister with wide eyes. Seizing the opportunity, along with the Unions, the other fandoms immediately chanted the name of that mysterious member to tease Rehn.

"ROSÉ, ROSÉ, ROSÉ, ROSÉ, ROSÉ, ROSÉ, ROSÉ!!!"

The name of BlackPink's dreamy blonde hair girl kept ringing. The remaining five members of Unity, idol groups, solo artists, people on the stage, and K-pop fans presented at that place all joined forces to attack Rehn.

Usually, Rehn was the one who bullied others, now he could only stand still and take the beating, he covered his mouth with his hand to keep his smile from showing.

"Ok, ok, thank you, everyone, haizzz. Thank you sissssss." - Rehn emphasized the last word as he glared at Ivy

"No need for that, little bro." – Ivy

"It seems like we accidentally extended the speech longer than planned. Ah ... Take care of your health, guys, it's extremely cold tonight, and I hope everyone will continue to support our group." - Yuki

Rehn could finally breathe a sigh of relief thanks to Yuki saving him in time. Luckily, Rehn's girlfriend was not present at the awards ceremony or else he would have been teased even more.

…

…

…

On the way home, Rehn was busy again as he continued to receive messages and calls from friends, relatives, and especially from his girlfriend. The members and the driver quietly listened to Rehn's explanation to Rosé and laughed.

"Honey, this whole week my phone felt like it could catch on fire at any moment, and your mom just called me and asked when I could pay them a visit with you. FYI that was nothing compared to what my parents said, they even personally came to Paris to interrogate me!" – Rosé

"Wow, my mom loves you even more than me. She even called me to ask, "How are you these days?", "Am I taking good care of you?", she even scolded me and gave me a whoof in the ass verbally, "Rosé said she had a cold. Where were you, and you didn't worry about her?" Hahaha." – Rehn

"Now I am really curious about which one is my mom's biological child because literally, I'm like a bystander whenever we talk about you. Speaking of the working schedule, I think I can set aside five days to meet my parents and yours, how about you?" - Rehn

"Hunnn, in the next week, my schedule will be much lighter so I think it will be okay for us to visit our parents. Honey, I know you're lazy when it comes to going shopping but I want to give your family "a few" memorable gifts, you understand what I mean, right? Hehehehe. " – Rose

"Haizzzzzz, okayyyyy." - Rehn tiredly replied

"Okay, so we got ourselves a deal." – Rosé

"It's a deal, babe! What? You guys got a problem with our love life?" – Rehn

Just another day like any other for one of the most public-eyed couples in Korea ever since they went public with their relationship. Although they knew that their relationship would face many hardships, they still always found ways to keep the fire burning. Rehn and Rosé sometimes felt truly blessed when they could not believe that their relationship would receive support from so many sides, so they planned that one day they would thank those who had supported them in some ways.

See u guys in the next chapter!

[tarmac-rat]

Cyberpunk 2077: Johnny Silverhand + me bullying him in my tags (part 2)

Part 1 here

Bonus (someone tell me why can't I stop loving this dingus):

[kpopfanfictrash]

Raise the Barre (Epilogue)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Creative Contributor: @baebae-goodnight​ for the last Raise the Barre moodboard TT she nailed it

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU

Warnings: sexual content. Dry humping, fingering, hand job, oral (female), breast play, multiple orgasms, Jimin gets turned on by making someone else come, dirty talk. Jimin’s pants are tight.

Word Count: 13,409

Summary: You and Park Jimin have been rivals for as long as you’ve known one another; ever since he tripped you in the front row of your first dance convention. When you graduate from high school and enter Russet Ballet Academy, you tell yourself you’re leaving all past quarrels behind. The main problem with this though, is that your past seems determined not to leave you alone.

Worse still, the obstacles you face while out in the real world might prove more challenging than anything your enemy has to offer.  

“And… more pointe shoes,” you said, opening the box in your lap. “Wow. Thanks, mom and dad.”

Your dad laughed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You’re welcome, kiddo,” he said, nodding from the couch. “I know Russet gives you some already, but you can never have too many.”

“Out of curiosity.” You glanced at the tree. “Are there any boxes from you which aren’t related to dance?”

“Not related to dance…” Your mom pretended to think. “I don’t understand.”

“Mom!”

She laughed. “I’m kidding! Yes, there are other presents. You just happened to pick all the pointe shoe boxes first.”

Shaking your head, you placed the box aside. You smiled though, warmth in your chest at being home for the holidays. Classes at Russet had ended a week prior and it had been nice for a few days to simply relax. Already though, you found yourself itching to return to the city. It was strange to wake every morning and not head to ballet. It was even stranger to take classes at your old studio, trying to stay in shape before second semester began.

Playing with the string of your sweatpants, you couldn’t help glancing at your phone on the couch. It had been several days since you’d last seen Jimin in person. Oddly enough, the separation had been harder than you’d thought it would be.

Immediately after ending things with Finn, you and Jimin had tried to keep your distance. The pain of your separation had been too fresh to even consider dating someone else but, as time had gone on, you and Jimin had started becoming friends again.

It was hard not to be, with Jimin continuing as your dance partner and classmate. At the end of the semester, you’d had the opportunity to switch partners, but you and Jimin had chosen the status quo. It just made sense this way; you couldn’t think of anyone else you’d trust as much as him.

At first, things between you were strictly professional. You saw him only within the confines of the dance studio but eventually, his presence bled into your normal life. At first, the outings were small. Jimin went to a pregame you also attended. He saw you once at the coffee shop and, instead of running away, he stopped to chat. One time, he walked you back to your dorm.

When the month became December, you found your outlook improving. Most of November had been spent wallowing in your dorm, but the holiday season brought with it endless activities. The very first weekend of the month, a bunch of your Russet friends decided to go ice skating and you’d ended up tagging along.

The biggest problem had been you’d never ice skated before. Noelle had been patient, skating backwards in front of you and dragging you around the rink. Jimin had done the same thing for Hoseok, who was in a similar predicament to yours, and at some point, they swapped partners and left you skating with Jimin.

When he’d taken over for Noelle, your stomach had swooped. Hands touching, he’d led you gently around the edge and the world had seemed to still. It had been the first time you’d felt anything stir outside of your break-up. Whatever hurt and distance had sprung between you, it seemed something had survived between you and Jimin.

Nose red, Jimin had smiled as he skated backwards. “It’s easy,” he’d told you. “You just swivel, Y/N. In and out, in and out. Got it?”

“Um, no!” you’d yelped, nearly crashing to the ice when Jimin let go of your hands.

He’d laughed, catching you easily and skating like that for a while. Eventually, Jimin had helped you off the rink and gotten hot chocolate, which you insisted on buying. Payback, you said, for the impromptu skating lessons.

That day had been a turning point for you both. Throughout the month prior, you’d texted sporadically but after, you seemed to talk every day.

Jimin even offered to drive you home from Russet, given the fact that your hometowns were so close together. After much hemming and hawing, you’d eventually taken him up on the offer. The savings it gave your bleeding bank account were well-worth the potential discomfort.

This had led to both the best and worst twenty-four hours of your life.

Best, because Jimin was an excellent road trip companion. He let you choose the music, laughed at all your dumb jokes, and agreed to play the road trip games you suggested. You’d already made a firm rule not to compare Jimin to any past boyfriends but couldn’t help but note this as an improvement over anyone prior.

The sole reason the twenty-four hours were also painful was because you stopped at a hotel halfway through. It was either this or drive until 3:00 AM, so you chose the smarter option and rested for the night. You and Jimin bought separate bedrooms, but they’d ended up next to one another, so you’d been forced to spend a sleepless night imagining Jimin separated from you only by a thin sheet of plywood.

You had told yourself this was silly. At Russet, Jimin hadn’t been much further away, but something about the closeness in the hotel made you nervous. It was infinitely easier to forget about boundaries when you were separated by only a car console for hours at a time. Infinitely easier to forget the rules when you were outside of Russet, cocooned by his car and the snow.

You couldn’t help but think about the one kiss you’d shared.

That had only been a taste, barely a teaser, but the memory kept you awake for more nights than it probably should have. You couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like to kiss Jimin again, under different circumstances.

Groaning, you’d covered your face with a pillow that night and tried your best to sleep. It hadn’t really worked, and you’d shown up at the car the next morning with dark shadows beneath your eyes.

Forcing yourself back to the present, you glanced away from your phone and focused on the tree – only to see its screen light up in your peripheral. Grabbing your phone, you realized Jimin had texted. Stifling a smile, you scrolled through the conversation until you found his last message.

Jimin: MERRY CHRISTMAS! [10:23 AM]

Jimin: 

Y/N: oh my god everything’s so... coordinated lol how long did that tree take to set up?  [10:24 AM]

Y/N: and merry Christmas 😊  [10:24 AM]

Jimin: not long at all. I just googled ‘christmas trees’ and that was the first one I found  [10:24 AM]

Y/N: ha ha hilarious  [10:25 AM]

Y/N: so, what are the Park family plans for the day?  [10:25 AM]

Jimin: the usual. Opening presents, going to my grandparents later for dinner. What about you?  [10:25 AM]

Y/N: same, minus the grandparents. We usually have a pretty low-key day  [10:26 AM]

Jimin: sounds nice  [10:26 AM]

Jimin: what’s your favorite present so far  [10:27 AM]

Y/N: 

Jimin: LOL  [10:30 AM]

Jimin: how many of them did you get? I’ve gotten two new dance bags and seven pairs of black leggings. It’s like our parents have forgotten we do anything else  [10:31 AM]

Y/N: no new dance belts? 😈  [10:32 AM]

Jimin: Y/N, I’m shocked  [10:35 AM]

Jimin: mind out of the gutter. Stop thinking about my junk  [10:35 AM]

Y/N: as your dance partner, I have a vested interest in your junk. What if it breaks free in the middle of practice?  [10:38 AM]

Jimin: the more delicate ladies would faint, I imagine  [10:41 AM]

Jimin: and probably Paulo  [10:41 AM]

Y/N: lmao  [10:43 AM]

Y/N: but seriously, I hope you get presents other than dance gear  [10:43 AM]

Jimin: back at you haha  [10:47 AM]

Y/N: I can’t help but notice you didn’t get me, your dance partner, a Christmas gift though  [10:50 AM]

Jimin: was the drive home not enough?  [10:50 AM]

Y/N: oh, shoot. You’re right! You did get me a Christmas gift  [10:51 AM]

Y/N: I’m the one who’s been remiss  [10:51 AM]

Jimin: don’t forget about my housewarming gift, too  [10:52 AM]

You smiled, sitting back on the sofa. Jimin was lucky enough to be moving off campus second semester. He, Hoseok and Alex Wong were moving into an apartment not far from Paulo’s. You and Noelle had decided to stay in Grace Hall, but you’d talked about moving someplace else next year.

Jimin was heading back early to move into his new place, so you’d need a different ride on your return trip to Russet. Still, you were looking forward to Jimin’s apartment hosting parties in the new year.

Y/N: don’t get greedy on me now, Park  [10:54 AM]

“Who’re you texting?”

Jerking your head up from the screen, you nearly dropped your phone. From the couch opposite, your mom gave you a knowing look.

“No one,” you said hastily, setting your phone aside.

“Oh, really?” She glanced with your dad. “No one wouldn’t happen to have dark hair, his own car and excellent table manners, would he?”

Immediately, you felt your face heat.

When Jimin drove you home before Christmas, your parents had insisted on feeding him before he continued to Harleigh Heights. This had led to the weirdest double date of your life – which was, in fact, not a date – including you, Jimin and your parents for dinner. Luckily, your parents had been great and Jimin hadn’t cared, but you’d been endlessly mortified for your first date with Jimin to have included your parents.

Not that you’d called it a date. When Jimin had left that night, you’d brushed it aside and he’d simply gone along with it. After Jimin had left, you’d gone to your room and wondered what the hell you were doing. It was clear you still liked Jimin and wanted to be more than just friends. Still, something continued to hold you back.

You weren’t sure when it was considered appropriate to move on. The line seemed fuzzy, so you hadn’t dared cross it and Jimin hadn’t asked. You got the feeling you needed to be the one to make the first move – which made sense. You’d been the one who asked for more time. You’d told Jimin you’d say when you were ready.

Any next steps would have to come from you.

It had been weird to go home and not see Finn. His house was only fifteen minutes away from yours – you’d driven past it on your way to the grocery store last week. Still, seeing his home hadn’t caused the pain you’d expected. It was strange not to see him, but more like you’d forgotten something you needed to do, as opposed to missing his actual presence.

If you were being honest, Finn had crossed your mind less and less lately. Possibly because you’d been falling out of love with him long before you’d broken up in November.

Still, it would be unfair to jump into something before you were ready. You’d already hurt Jimin once this past fall and were determined not to do so again. No matter how good things had been lately between you, you didn’t want to make the mistake of dating Jimin too soon.

Despite this, things had become flirtier between you as of late. Exhibit A: casual text conversations about Park Jimin’s junk.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said lightly.

Your dad laughed as he stood from the couch. “Alright, then,” he said, grabbing another gift. “How about you open this one next?”

Accepting the thin package he handed over, you frowned. The box wasn’t large and, shaking it slowly, you heard no sliding inside.

“I swear,” you said as you began to undo the bow. “If you wrapped your passport photo again, dad...”

Laughing, he settled back on the couch by your mom. “It’s not that, I promise.”

Grumbling, you opened the box and immediately froze. Staring at the paper inside, you slowly looked up. “Is this… is this what I think it is?”

“It’s a plane flight,” your mom said with a smile. “I know we’re supposed to drive you back on the third, but we thought you might want to celebrate New Year’s with your friends.”

“But…” Speechless, you returned to the box. “We always hang out together on New Year’s Eve.”

“I know,” said your dad. “But maybe it’s time to start some new traditions, kiddo.”

With that, he stood and took his mug to the kitchen. Sensing he wasn’t needed for this conversation any longer, he began washing dishes and to prepare breakfast. Once he was gone, your mom moved to your couch and settled beside you.

“I… this is too much,” you said, immediately backpedaling.

“It’s not.”

“Well…” Hesitant, you considered the possibilities. “I guess Ari will be in the city for New Year’s Eve. Maybe Noelle, too. She mentioned she might go back early.”

Gently, your mom smiled. “That’s great if you want to hang out with them, but… didn’t Jimin mention going back before New Year’s?”

Startled, you glanced up. You were surprised she’d remembered. Jimin had mentioned it briefly at dinner last week – he’d said he was moving off campus, which was why he’d needed to return home to pack.

“I – he might have,” you said cautiously.

“I see.” She paused. “I just… I don’t want you feeling like you need to hold yourself back, honey.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Your mom glanced meaningfully at your phone. “I’m glad you’re taking time to yourself,” she said slowly. “It’s important to know who you are and what you want. But also – don’t feel like you need to follow someone else’s timeline when it comes to moving on.”

“I know, but…” You trailed off. “We only broke up in November.”

She shrugged. “Only you know when you’re ready, honey. I just don’t want you to keep punishing yourself for something that’s over. You’re allowed to be happy, even if you’ve messed up in the past.”

Swallowing, you glanced again at the gift. The plane ticket was for the day before New Year’s Eve. Plucking it from the box, you sat back on the couch.

“But…” you said lowly. “Mom, it’s only been two months.”

“And are you still in love with Finn?”

“No.”

“And did you learn anything from what happened this fall?”

“I… Yes. A lot.”

“Good.” Reaching out, she squeezed your hand. “Learn the lessons you need to learn, and then move on. Self-flagellation isn’t productive, Y/N.”

You nodded, still uncertain about what she was saying. Her words made sense, but everything she was saying uncovered a dormant fear. You were scared. Scared of hurting someone else, scared of being hurt by someone else in return. Your last relationship had ended so badly, it was hard to convince yourself it might be worth it to try again.

Finally, you turned to face her on the couch. “Does it ever get any easier?” you asked. “This fear of being hurt… does it ever go away?���

Something sad passed over her face. “Yes and no,” she said, pulling back her hand. “You’ll never be as innocent as you were in your first love. There’s something special about loving someone and never having been hurt before. Once you’ve gone through that kind of pain, you aren’t the same after. But… it does get easier. And better. You’ll know more about how to support this time, instead of tearing down. How to make a love stronger, instead of hanging on.”

Something about this speech gave you comfort, and you slowly nodded. Again, what she said made sense but if there was one thing you’d learned from the fall, it was no matter how great the advice was, it was impossible to take if you weren’t ready to hear it.

You continued wondering if the risk would be worth it. No matter how much you felt for Jimin, you couldn’t help but remember how you’d felt breaking up with Finn. You hadn’t been in love with him at that point and it had still been so painful. It was terrifying to imagine loving someone again and having things end the same way.

Your mom was right, though. You couldn’t keep punishing yourself for something you couldn’t change. There were several ways you could move on from here. The main question to ask yourself was whether you wanted Jimin in the picture.

“Alright,” you said softly. “Thanks, mom.”

“Anytime.” Smiling, she stood and dusted off her pants. “I’m going to see if your dad needs help making breakfast. Don’t be too long, now!”

You nodded, watching her go, and then glanced at the ticket. Your mom’s words continued to run through your mind and after a moment, you picked up your phone.

Jimin had texted back.

Jimin: I would never!  [10:57 AM]

Y/N: hey, so  [11:01 AM]

Y/N: I did get one non-dance gift this year. A plane flight the day before New Year’s Eve  [11:02 AM]

Jimin: oh, wow! That was really nice of your parents  [11:03 AM]

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes. When you opened them, you found yourself newly determined.

Y/N: when do you get back again?  [11:03 AM]

His ellipses started, then stopped, then started again.

Jimin: December 28th  [11:04 AM] 

Y/N: what are your New Year’s Eve plans?  [11:04 AM]

For a moment, he didn’t respond, and you felt your heart catch. Maybe you’d misread things. Maybe Jimin had moved on and didn’t care about you anymore. Maybe he didn’t want you to tell him you were ready.

Jimin: I’m free 😊  [11:05 AM]

Jimin: want to be my New Year’s Eve date?  [11:05 AM]

Smiling ear to ear, you responded.

Y/N: yes. Please  [11:06 AM]

On the actual day of New Year’s Eve, you found yourself stressed beyond belief. Standing in front of the mirror of your dorm room, you adjusted your dress and worried over the hemline. Jimin had arranged to meet you around 7:00 PM and it was dangerously close to 6:55.

“Is the dress too short?” you asked, turning a little to face Noelle. “It is New Year’s Eve in the city. Should I wear pants, or something? Will I be cold?”

Noelle considered, then shrugged. “Just drink more. Problem solved!”

Snorting, you turned back to the mirror. Nervously, you smoothed down the front of your dress. You’d bought it at an after-Christmas sale and had fallen instantly in love. It had seemed perfect at the time, but now you were having second thoughts about the thin straps and tight bodice.

“Alright, so Y/N.” Noelle changed the subject. “Here’s the plan. Are you listening?”

Hiding a smile, you adjusted an earring. “Listening.”

“Good. Okay, so Ari and I will be at a party uptown. If the date goes badly, just say the word and we’ll call you a cab. You can be ringing in the new year with us within the hour.”

“Perfect,” you said. “It’s good to have a back-up.”

“It is.” Noelle paused. “Not that I think you’ll need this, of course.”

“Well, you never know.”

“Please.” She snorted. “What’s Jimin going to do? Be too charming? Too respectful of boundaries? Wear pants that show off his ass a little too much?”

“Noelle!”

She laughed, coming to a stop alongside you. Noelle wore a sparkly dress which made her skin glow, although this may have been the glitter dusted over her shoulders. Looking at herself in the mirror, she fluffed her hair.

“Seriously,” she said, meeting your gaze. “You’re going to be fine.”

“I know, I know.” Shaking out your arms, you forced yourself to exhale. “I’m just nervous, that’s all. It’s been a long time since I went on a first date.”

Noelle considered. “That’s true. Allow me to give you some dating tips, then.”

Laughing, you turned around and sat on the futon. “By all means.”

“Alright – number one.” Noelle removed lipstick from her purse. “Don’t order anything with garlic. I know, that sucks because garlic is everything, but no one wants to make out while they have garlic breath. Rule number two!”

“Whoa, whoa,” you said. “Who said anything about making out?”

Noelle gave you a pointed look. “Just in case it should happen…”

Shaking your head, you sunk back on the futon, but you knew she was right. Tonight was New Year’s Eve, after all. Ideally, you’d like to do more than kiss Jimin, but this seemed like too much of a jinx to say out loud.

Mentally, you agreed to the ‘no garlic’ rule.

“What else?” you prompted.

“Let’s see.” Noelle began to reapply her lipstick. “Relax.”

“What?”

Glancing at you in the mirror, she raised both brows. “I can see your shoulders tensing from here, babe. Just relax, okay? Tonight will be fine. You’re just hanging out with Jimin. You’ve done that before.”

“I know,” you groaned, lowering your face to your hands. “For some reason though, I’m very aware of the ‘date’ aspect of tonight. I don’t know why.”

When you looked up, Noelle gave you a sympathetic look, but before she could say more there came a knock at the door. Half-standing, you moved to open it, but Noelle shooed you back.

“Rule number three,” she said as she crossed the room. “Never answer the door for your own date.”

“What?” you laughed, although you sat back down on the futon.

Grabbing the handle, Noelle pulled open the door. Blocking you from view, she leaned her shoulder against the frame.

“Password?”

“What?” came Jimin’s voice, sounding confused.

“That’s correct!” Noelle stepped aside.

As you stood, you saw Jimin for the first time. He wore a pea coat over his outfit, his dark hair pushed back from his face in a devastating manner. When he saw you, Jimin froze, and you saw his eyes widen.

Silently, you congratulated yourself on having picked the right outfit. His gaze slowly trailed your body, lingering in places which made your cheeks heat. When he returned to your face, he slowly exhaled.

“Hey,” he said. “You… you look beautiful.”

Smiling back, you found yourself at a loss for words. “So do you.”

Jimin grinned and you stood there, smiling at each other like idiots until Noelle cleared her throat.

“Well,” she said, side-stepping Jimin to grab her coat. “I’m going to head over to Ari’s. You kids be safe, okay?”

“We will,” you laughed.

Noelle left in a flurry of kisses and glitter, waving goodbye as she stepped out the door. Jimin turned to face you once she was gone, offering a smile.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked. “I brought you these.”

From behind his back, he pulled out pink peonies, which made you gasp. They were your favorites, a little limp from the cold, but still beautiful. Taking them gently from him, you turned them over in your hands.

“They’re wonderful,” you said happily. “Thank you.”

Jimin smiled. “I’m glad you like them.”

Glancing around, you found a clean glass near the sink and filled this with water. Arranging the peonies on your desk, you took a step back and cocked your head. You’d always thought the idea of flowers on dates was kind of cheesy, but now that you’d experienced it in person, it seemed unimaginably sweet.

“There,” you said, turning back. “All set.”

Jimin smiled at this, then glanced at your bare arms. “You’re going to be cold without a coat,” he said. “That’d be a bad way to start off the new year.”

“Oh – duh,” you said, hurrying towards your wardrobe.

Pulling a coat out, you slipped this over your dress and buttoned the front. As you left the room, you turned off the lights and shut the door behind you. Jimin walked with you down the hall, continually glancing your way from the corner of his eyes.

You felt oddly shy, despite this being Jimin beside you. Jimin, who you’d known since you were teenagers. Jimin, who’d been both the utter bane of your existence, along with the single person you trusted most in the world. He’d tossed you up in the air and caught you no question and somehow, this felt like the most daring thing you’d ever done.

It was strange to walk beside him, out on a date whose future held a large question mark. Excitement and uncertainty warred in your stomach, which only seemed to exacerbate the situation. You felt as though you stood on the edge of a precipice, staring into a ravine with no discernable bottom.

As you left the building, snowflakes swirled in the sky up above and you looked up in surprise.

“Oh,” you exhaled, breath frosting before you. “I didn’t realize it was snowing!”

“Yeah.” Jimin grinned, tilting back his head. “Snow is my favorite weather, actually.”

“The wet and the cold does it that much for you, huh, Park?”

“That, and the romance of it all.”

Your smile softened a little as you fell into step alongside him. The snow continued to drift as you walked, melting as soon as it touched the pavement.

“So, where are we going?” you wondered, glancing at him. “You said you’d tell me once you picked me up and I’ve got news for you, Jimin. I’m here. I’ve been picked up.”

“Right, sure.” He shoved both hands in his pockets. “I made a reservation at this restaurant around the corner. The food’s really good so I hope you’ll like it.”

“I’m sure I will.”

“Huh.” Jimin paused. “That was easy.”

You shrugged. “I’m just excited for tonight. That’s all.”

His gaze softened a little when he glanced at you. “Me, too.”

Smiling, you continued to walk alongside him. New Year’s Eve in the city was a grand affair. The sidewalks were still lit with holiday lights, people hurrying past in brightly colored coats. Privately, you were glad Jimin had made a reservation at a restaurant instead of trying to brave a club or a bar. You’d heard horror stories from people who paid extravagantly to get into a club, only to spend the entire night waiting in line at the bar.

Turning the corner, you saw the restaurant Jimin had chosen and brightened. It was one you’d walked past several times and always wanted to try but had never found time.

Jimin held open the door as you entered. The inside still had their holiday decorations up, garland strung across every surface with tiny, white fairy lights hung up above. Everyone who was dining wore formal attire, laughing and chatting in the glow of the fireplace. The food smelled amazing and immediately, your mouth watered.

Joining the line at the hostess stand, you waited for the couple before you to leave and then Jimin stepped up.

“Park,” he told her. “Party of two.”

The hostess smiled, nodding as she flipped through her notebook. “One moment, please.” The longer she looked though, the more her face fell. After a moment, she glanced up. “Park, you said?”

“Yes.” Jimin nodded. “P-a-r-k.”

The woman nodded, flipping through her notebook again as though the name might magically appear.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, glancing up again. “There seems to be some kind of mistake. I don’t have you listed as a reservation.”

Jimin’s expression faltered. “Can you look again?” he asked, leaning forward.

The hostess nodded, running her finger down the numbered rows. “I can’t find you anywhere. Do you remember who you spoke with on the phone?”

“Rebecca.”

“Oh.” Her face immediately fell. “Rebecca left the restaurant last week. It seems a few reservations slipped through in the transition. Is there… well, before I do that – let me see what I can do,” she blurted out, turning around to rush into the restaurant.

Jimin watched her disappear and you saw his expression tighten.

Silence fell between you as you adjusted your coat. Jimin looked stressed and you weren’t sure what you should do about it. Frantically, you tried to remember times he’d been stressed during class, but before you could do or say anything, the hostess returned.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, looking harried. “The restaurant is completely booked up. I was trying to see if we could squeeze you in, but there’s just no room. I’m so sorry. Normally, only one person does the reservations, but we’ve been so busy lately...”

“It’s fine,” you said, jumping in. The poor woman looked like she was about to burst into tears. “Please, don’t worry about it. We’ll figure something out.”

Jimin glanced at you, surprised, and then nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed, returning to the hostess. “Thank you so much for your help – I appreciate you trying. We actually have a back-up reservation somewhere else, so don’t worry. We’ll come back another time!”

“Oh, really?” Her entire face brightened. “That’s so good to hear. New Year’s Eve, and all. Thank you for being understanding!”

“Yes, busy night,” Jimin said with a smile. “Take care of yourself!”

The woman nodded, seeming grateful when you stepped out of line. Jimin followed your footsteps, heading towards the door and then came to a stop. Slowly, he exhaled.

“So,” you said, turning to face him. “Where are these back-up reservations?”

Jimin winced and met your gaze. “I have none,” he admitted. “She just looked so sad. I wanted to put her out of her misery.”

“Wait.” Piecing this together, you paused. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” he said miserably. “I only made reservations here and that was super lucky, considering most places in the city have been booked for weeks. I don’t have any back-up plans.”

For a moment, you could only stare. “So, you said all that just so that poor hostess wouldn’t worry about a mistake her restaurant made?”

“I – well, yeah.”

You stared another moment, then started to laugh. It started out small but grew until eventually, you were wiping tears of mirth from your eyes.

Jimin watched you laugh, seeming thoroughly confused. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s just…” Shaking your head, you paused to catch your breath. “You’re unreal. Most people would be super stressed about New Year’s Eve plans falling through, but here you are lying to make a hostess’ night better.”

He blinked, still uncertain. “I’m… sorry about that.”

“Don’t apologize!” you insisted as you straightened. “It’s… wonderful,” you said to him shyly. “I like that about you.”

Slowly, his expression changed. “I really don’t have other plans, though,” he admitted. “I wasn’t lying about that. And I am stressed about my reservation falling through. I wanted this night to be perfect.”

The sweetness of this made your heart start to melt and newly determined, you nodded.

“We can fix this,” you said. “We’ll just go somewhere else.”

“Like where?”

“Like...” You paused. “We could hang out at my dorm. Or at your apartment! One of our kitchens has to be free, right? We could make dinner and hang out, watch the ball drop.”

“We could go to my place,” said Jimin slowly. “Hoseok and Alex are at a New Year’s Eve party uptown. We’d have the kitchen to ourselves.”

“Perfect,” you said. “Let’s go there.”

“I should warn you, though – I can only really cook one thing.”

“Spaghetti-o’s?”

“Okay, two things.”

You laughed. “So, what’s the first thing?”

“A pasta dish they taught us in Senior Foods class. But it’s nothing fancy.”

“Perfect.” You shrugged. “That will go nicely with my contribution of store-bought bread and olive oil.”

Jimin started to grin. “Alright, then, it’s settled. Let’s go to my place.”

You smiled when he opened the door, following him onto the sidewalk. Jimin’s new apartment was a few blocks away, but time passed quickly with him beside you. Oddly enough, the mishap at the restaurant seemed to have cleared some of the lingering awkwardness.

Noelle had been right, you realized – you had nothing to worry about while you were with Jimin.

He talked while you walked, detailing the ongoing fight at his apartment about some posters Hoseok wanted to hang. This segued into the general ridiculousness of New Year’s Eve – a topic you wholeheartedly agreed with.

“It’s stressful,” Jimin complained as you walked. “Everyone’s always asking about your resolution, you need to find someone to kiss at midnight, and there’s that super awkward moment with the countdown and your date…”

You laughed, grabbing a basket as you entered the grocery store. Jimin had suggested you stop by, since he didn’t have much food at his place.

“Doesn’t the countdown make it easier?” you joked. “It really dumbs the whole process down. Fool-proof.”

“Well, sure,” Jimin said. “But then you end up staring awkwardly at someone for ten seconds while you slowly lean forward and wonder when you should blink.”

Laughing, you reached on tiptoe for a loaf of bread. “Alright, you got me there,” you admitted. “I’ve never had a proper New Year’s Eve, anyways. I’ve always been dating someone and then, it’s just kind of assumed you’ll kiss. None of the magic you see in the movies.”

Jimin nodded. “Most of that’s just movie magic, though. You aren’t missing much – trust me.”

“I don’t know,” you said as you turned the next corner. “The anticipation sounds kind of nice. Wondering if someone will kiss you back, if they’re thinking about you the same way you are…”

Jimin made a humming noise, low in his throat.

Coming to a stop, he reached overhead to grab some pasta. Putting this in your basket, Jimin casually brushed your arm as you met his faze. Fighting back a shiver, you tried to remember what you’d been saying.

Giving a smile, Jimin continued forward and kept shopping. You stared after him a moment before your gaze dropped to his ass. Inhaling quickly, you remembered Noelle’s comment about Jimin’s tight pants. She hadn’t been wrong about that. Hurrying along, you quickly caught up.

Grabbing another jar, Jimin placed this in the basket. When he caught your eye again, he grinned, his hair falling forward. The sight made your heart flip-flop in your chest.

As you entered the check-out line, Jimin came to a stop alongside you. His gaze traveled the store, eyes widening when he glanced over your shoulder.

“What’s that?” Jimin gasped.

Startled, you turned. “What’s – hey!” you blurted when he took your basket.

Grinning widely, Jimin placed the food before the cashier. “Too slow.”

“Jimin, come on,” you said, slightly flustered. “I can pay. I –”

“You can pay next time, if you want.”

This shut you up and you stared at him a moment before you stepped forward.

“There’s… going to be a next time?” you said.

Jimin glanced in your direction. “If you want there to be.”

“I do,” you said softly, and he smiled.

Taking another step forward, he pulled out his wallet to pay and you let him – this time, anyways. Outside, it seemed to have grown colder since your arrival and you shivered as you exited the shop. Noticing this, Jimin immediately undid his scarf from around his neck.

“Here,” he said, handing it over. “I don’t need this.”

“But then you’ll be cold,” you pointed out, accepting it anyways.

“I’ll jog in place to keep warm.”

“… With me walking beside you?”

“Yep.”

You laughed, even more so when Jimin began to demonstrate. He jogged for a few steps, then slowed to a walk.

“Changed my mind,” he said with a wince. “I’d rather be cold.”

You laughed, cheeks starting to hurt from both this and the wind. Jimin’s apartment wasn’t far, although it did turn out to be a third-floor walk-up. This left you slightly winded when you arrived at his place, to which Jimin shrugged and said the rent had been cheap.

Opening his front door, he led the way into – boxes. Tons of them, although most of the furniture had been set up around them. Jimin fumbled for a light, flicking this on and setting down the groceries.

“Most of the boxes are Alex’s,” he sighed, looking around. “Hoseok and I have a secret deal we’re going to unpack him ourselves if he doesn’t do it by Monday.”

“That doesn’t sound like much of a detriment to Alex.”

“I never said what we planned on doing with his things once we unpacked.”

You laughed, undoing your coat to set aside. Glancing around, you saw Jimin was right. Most of the boxes were scrawled in the same handwriting. Beyond them, you saw the living room had been mostly set up with a couch and TV.

To your right lay the kitchen, in which Jimin was already unloading the groceries. Beyond him was a hallway, through which you assumed were their bedrooms and bathrooms. Wandering back to Jimin, you realized he was staring.

“What?” you said, coming to a stop. “Did I spill something on my dress in the store?”

“No,” Jimin murmured, shaking his head. “I just… I know I said this before, but you really do look incredible.”

“Oh.”

Looking at him, you felt your face growing hot. Jimin smiled and ducked his head, resumed pulling things out of the bag. Stepping from your shoes to place in the hall, you returned to the kitchen and pulled out a stool.

Sitting down, you propped your chin in your hand. “Aren’t you going to take off your coat?”

Glancing down, Jimin blinked. “Oh,” he laughed, undoing the buttons. “I forgot I was wearing it.”

You smiled, but this quickly disappeared when you saw what he was wearing. Jimin had worn a dark blazer and trousers, paired with a paisley shirt and black boots. He looked ridiculously good and again, Noelle’s comment about his ass came to mind.

She’d been correct – his pants were well-shaped and well-formed.

After removing both coat and shoes, Jimin returned to the kitchen and pushed a hand through his hair. You watched him get to work, leaning forward a bit when he began to dice vegetables. Immediately, your brows raised. It seemed Jimin had undersold his skills in the kitchen.

When you said as much, he laughed.

“Maybe a little,” Jimin said. As he pushed veggies from the cutting board, the pan began to sizzle. “It’s all part of my master plan. Set expectations low, then over-deliver.”

“It’s working,” you said with a laugh. “You seem pretty damn impressive to me.”

Jimin’s cheeks reddened. “You’re just saying that.”

“Why would I lie?”

“I seem to remember some shocking texts about my junk and dancer’s belts. You could just be after my body, Y/N.”

“I – that’s not!”

He looked up and grinned. “Kidding.”

Flustered, you blurted, “That wasn’t nice!”

Jimin laughed. “I’m sorry.”

You huffed, waiting a minute before you continued. “You do look really good right now, though,” you said softly.

He looked up, eyes wide. As much as Jimin said he enjoyed being liked, it seemed to throw him for a loop whenever you said you liked him. It made you pause, mulling over this for a minute.

“You seem surprised,” you said quietly. “Whenever I say things like that, you always look surprised.”

“Well…” Jimin hesitated. “I just think… there’s been a lot of times where I never thought this would happen. It feels kind of unreal have you here. In my kitchen. On a date.”

“Times after November?”

Jimin paused.

Your brow furrowed. “Before then?”

Opening the pasta, Jimin added this to the pot. He stared into the steam, slowly exhaling before he looked up.

“Let’s just say I’ve wanted this for a while,” he admitted.

“What? But you hated me before Russet.”

“I…” Jimin trailed off. “Kind of. It’s complicated.”

When he failed to elaborate and returned to his cooking, your eyebrows shot up.

“Uh, no,” you laughed. “You can’t just say that and not explain what you mean. What are you talking about?”

Jimin winced as he set down his spoon. “Okay,” he said, gripping the counter. “I guess what I’m saying is I never really hated you. Not truly.”

“You didn’t.”

“No.” He spoke flatly.

“But…” Confused, you searched his face. “You’ve hated me ever since we met, Jimin. That first weekend at NUVO dance competition. We were both called out to demonstrate and you tripped me!”

“Well, maybe that’s not exactly what happened.”

“What are you talking about?”

Jimin released a low breath. “Okay, so here’s the thing. That weekend happened a little differently from my perspective.”

“How so?”

“We were both called out to demonstrate,” he said, repeating your words. “But I hadn’t seen you before then. When we both reached center and I turned and saw you – I froze. I couldn’t remember how to act. Every thought I’d ever had just… flew out of my head.”

You stared at him, speechless.

“I didn’t know what to do,” Jimin continued softly. “I’d never felt like that before. When you started to dance, it only got worse. I’d never seen someone dance like you did. That’s why I entered the combination late. That’s why I was in the wrong spot at the wrong time and that’s why I accidentally tripped you. I was… well, I was distracted.”

“By me,” you whispered. “You were distracted by… me?”

“Yeah.”

“So,” you said, breath catching. “This entire time, you haven’t really hated me?”

“Ah, I don’t know about that.” Jimin rubbed the back of his neck. “You could be really infuriating,” he said with a laugh. “There were times when you genuinely pissed me off. I meant it when I said I wanted to win against you. But also… I don’t know. I never really forgot the first time I saw you.”

“Oh,” you whispered, unsure what you were feeling.

It made your head spin to hear this different version of events. Jimin hadn’t hated you – at least, not in the same way you had. He hadn’t been the one to make the first move after all. You had when you’d decided not to listen to his apology.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, burying your face in your hands.

“Hey – what’s wrong?”

Dropping his spoon to the counter, Jimin came around and stood beside you. Keeping your head down, you refused to look up until Jimin touched your arm.

“I just,” you exhaled, turning to face him. “It was my fault. This entire time, I thought you hated me and that’s why I hated you. But instead, I just decided to hate you – and for what?”

Jimin’s upper lip twitched. “I wasn’t entirely blameless, you know. I was such a little shit at that age. I wouldn’t have believed me, either.”

“You tried to apologize, though!”

“Hey.” Gently, he gripped your elbows. “If it makes you feel any better, I did trip people just to get to the front. I was an ass. It’s why that Jungkook guy hates me. I started dancing later in life, so I was really hung up on proving myself.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t true,” you told him. “You didn’t trip me on purpose, and if I’d only been less stubborn –”

“Whoa, hey.” Jimin smiled. “You weren’t the only stubborn one. Maybe it started off as a misunderstanding, but I didn’t really fight it. You were my competition as much as I was yours.”

“I guess,” you said quietly. “I just… I feel like I wasted so much time hating you. Maybe we could’ve even been friends.”

His gaze sparked. “Just friends?” he asked with a quirk of his brow.

“Jimin,” you groaned, but started to smile.

“Listen.” Expression softening, Jimin moved closer. “Even if I had decided to explain all this in high school, would you have believed me?”

“Probably not.”

“Exactly. I was a dick back then.” He nodded. “Remember that one time I lied and told you the awards ceremony had been pushed back an hour?”

Sitting up straighter, you glared. “Oh, I remember. I showed up after they’d already taken the photo for Top Junior solos.”

Jimin grinned. “Or the time I put an out of order sign on the women's restroom after your solo at BRAVO, so you had to run all the way across the auditorium?”

“That was you!” you blurted out, wide-eyed. “No one would believe me when I said it was! Every girl was so pissed off at you that weekend.”

“Which is exactly why I could never admit it was me!”

In disbelief, you shook your head. “You did all of that just to get back at me?”

Jimin’s smile disappeared. “Hey, you weren’t innocent either,” he argued. “Remember the time you spilled an entire water bottle next to my bag so that when I sat down, my ass got all wet?”

Devious, you smiled. “Honestly, there was kind of an ulterior motive there. As much as I hated you, your ass looks great in damp sweats.”

Jimin’s jaw dropped a little.

Managing to shut this, he took a casual step forward. “Is that what you thought?” he murmured, barely able to conceal the thickness in his voice.

“I… may have noticed a few things about you.”

When he placed a hand next to you on the counter, your breath hitched in response. Jimin repeated this with his other hand, bringing his body a step closer to yours.

Hesitant, his gaze roamed your face. “What else did you notice?”

“I…” you exhaled and glanced at his lips.

The air between you could have been cut with a knife, heated for a different reason than the stove beside you. Which – eyes widening, you glanced over.

“Shit!” you blurted. “Jimin, the pasta!”

Startled, he looked in the same direction as you and realized the water was boiling. Rushing away, Jimin entered the kitchen and turned down the burner. Now that you were separated by a solid counter, you felt somewhat dazed when you glanced up and saw him.

Meeting your gaze, Jimin came to a stop. “Anyways,” he said softly. “Now, you know. I didn’t trip you on purpose. I never really hated you. And I’m incredibly glad you’re here tonight.”

Watching him speak, something warm bloomed in your chest.

“Me, too,” you whispered.

Smiling, Jimin returned to the pasta and you settled back on the stool. Delicious scents soon filled the kitchen and you realized how truly hungry you were. You hadn’t eaten much at lunch in preparation and by now, you were famished.

It wasn’t long before Jimin placed pasta onto plates, adding the bread you’d cut up on the side. He brought these to his table, disappearing briefly to return with two candles.

“Oo,” you said as you took a seat. “Fancy.”

Jimin lit the one closest to you with a flourish. “We aim to please, here at Park Jimin’s Fine Eating and Dining.”

“Is that the name of your restaurant?”

“It is.”

“And you’re set on that decision?”

“I decided on a whim, but I have no regrets,” Jimin said, taking a seat across from you. “Now, eat before you piss off the chef and he takes back your food.”

Laughing, you dug into the pasta before you. It was delicious and, after the very first bite, you sighed in appreciation. Apparently, Jimin had truly set the bar low. Conversation began to flow, any lingering tension disappeared after talk of your past.

It was the oddest thing. You’d heard stories from friends about other first dates. They worried about how to behave, what to wear, or what to say to their date – but none of these worries seemed to exist for you in the moment. You’d been so concerned before the night began, but now that you were here, all these worries seemed to fly out the window.

You’d thought you’d spend the entire night comparing. Comparing Jimin to your last relationship, comparing Jimin as a date to Jimin as a friend, but instead, it felt like natural progression. It wasn’t a matter of comparing Jimin to anyone else, but rather simply enjoying where the night led.

After dinner, you insisted on helping clean because Jimin had cooked and bought the food. Donning rubber gloves over your dress, you stood at the sink and began to wash dishes. Jimin laughed as he joined, pulling on gloves to dry the dishes beside you. Once this was done, he suggested watching a movie before the ball dropped.

Collapsing onto the sofa, you adjusted your dress and scanned the room. The posters Jimin had bemoaned were now hung over the TV – you wondered if Hoseok had managed to somehow sneak them past his roommates. Small touches here and there made you think of Jimin.

A game he’d mentioned was out on the coffee table and a blanket which smelled like him was draped over a chair. Pulling this towards you, you wrapped it around yourself as Jimin left the kitchen.

Holding two glasses of wine, he paused when he saw you.

“What?” you said, glancing down.

“Nothing.” Jimin cleared his throat. “Are you cold?”

“A little,” you admitted, tugged his blanket closer.

“Shoot.” Jimin frowned. “The heat’s been weird since we moved in. I’m not sure how to fix – oh!” Setting the glasses down, he rushed towards the hall. “Do you want a sweatshirt?” he called.

“Yes, please!”

Jimin reappeared moments later, a navy sweatshirt in hand. Handing this over, he settled beside you on the sofa. He’d ditched his blazer and now, Jimin was dressed in only the paisley shirt and slacks.

Pulling his sweatshirt overhead, you somehow managed to get stuck right away. It was hard not to, with your hair and the dress, trying not to flash him while you kept your legs crossed.

After a moment of watching your undignified struggling, Jimin cleared his throat.

“Need help?”

“Yes, please,” you said weakly.

Jimin laughed, helping you free and once the hoodie was settled, you sighed and leaned back. Glancing sideways at Jimin, you found him already looking at you.

“What do you want to watch?” you asked.

Jimin blinked, then glanced at the TV. “Hm,” he mused, grabbing the remote. “We could watch the ball drop and enjoy the fact that we’re sitting inside, not standing in the freezing cold without any bathrooms.”

“I know!” you said with a shudder. “Out of all the stupid traditions, that’s one I’ll never understand.”

“How do so many people have it on their bucket list?”

“Right? That, and the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Zero out of ten. It’s cold, there’s wind and again, there’s the question of bathrooms.”

Jimin laughed as he scrolled through the channels. “Alright, so no to the ball drop. Want to watch a movie?”

“Sure.”

“What movie?”

“Why’re you making me pick?” you whined, sinking deeper into his cushions. “That’s such a large amount of pressure.”

“Exactly, which is why I don’t want to do it.”

You laughed and after some back and forth, decided to watch About Time. This was a movie about obstacles and falling in love, which seemed more than fitting because of the new year. At first, you and Jimin were watching diligently but eventually, he asked a question and conversation slowly drifted from the movie.

At some point, Jimin lowered the volume to focus solely on you. You curled deeper into the couch beside him, your thighs somehow touching and shoulders inches apart. Jimin’s head leaned against the cushion and he continued to smile in a way which made your heart flip.

“Here’s a question,” you murmured, no longer pretending to watch the movie.

His eyes gleamed in the darkness. “What?”

“Why’d you tell Sabrina you only wanted to be friends?”

Briefly, his eyes widened. “How did… you know about that?”

“She told me.”

“Hm.” Jimin gave you a dubious look but moved past it. Sabrina had begun hanging out with your friends as of late. “But alright, I’ll answer. If I do though, you need to answer one of my questions. Deal?”

“Deal.”

“So, I was single when I came to Russet.” Jimin paused. “It was the first time in a long time, and I may have hooked up with a couple of people.”

“Hm,” you said tightly.

His eyes danced with amusement. “Jealous?”

“Answer the question.”

He laughed. “Anyways, I only hooked up with Sabrina the one time. Afterwards…” Jimin sighed. “I felt kind of weird about her asking me to switch partners. Then I overheard what she said about Ari at weigh-ins and just didn’t feel like anything more... Plus, there was the other reason.”

“And what was the other reason?”

“I was starting to like you,” he said, a bit softer. “The day you said you wanted to be friends was a giant weight from my chest. And the more relaxed you were around me, the more… I don’t know. The more I liked you, I guess. My mom has always called me her hopeless romantic,” Jimin said with a smile. “I don’t know about that, but I can be single-minded when I like someone. That was part of the reason I told Sabrina we shouldn’t hook up anymore.”

“Oh,” you whispered.

His smile turned lopsided. “Does that answer your question?”

“Yeah. I guess it does.”

“My turn, then.” Smile disappearing, his gaze darkened. “Why did you really call me that night at the club?”

“Oh. That. Well, I –”

“And don’t say it was because I had a car,” Jimin interrupted. “There were a lot of people you could’ve called to help. You didn’t, though. You called me. Why?”

You hesitated before you realized there was only one answer. “I wanted to see you,” you said honestly. “I was scared, I was alone and… you were the person I wanted to see.”

Jimin’s gaze had become nearly black, the air between you thick with something unsaid. You were suddenly conscious of all each part of your body pressed to his. When Jimin shifted on the couch, you moved somehow closer.

He hesitated, then glanced at your mouth. “I don’t…” Jimin licked his lips, sounding hoarse. “I don’t want to do anything you’re not ready for.”

“You won’t,” you told him.

Something uncertain passed over his face. “Maybe we should take things slow.”

“Or,” you said slowly. “I could tell you things I like about you, instead.”

“And what would be the point of that?”

Your gaze shifted to his. “You’ve told me a lot tonight about how much you like me,” you said softly. “About how long you’ve liked me. I think it’s time I returned the favor.”

Something in his gaze cracked and he nodded. The TV in the background was quiet, only the noise from the street and the whoosh of the heater breaking the silence.

“First,” you said, glancing down at his lap. “You have really nice hands.”

Jimin’s lips twitched. “My hands? I’ve always thought they were small.”

“Wrong. They’re the perfect size. Never have they dropped me.”

“Mm, that’s a good point.”

“And your smile,” you said.

“What about it?”

“I like your smile,” you told him. “It makes me smile.”

His eyes crinkled in demonstration. “Oh, yeah?”

“And your ears.”

Jimin laughed. “My ears?”

Reaching out, you delicately traced over an edge. “I’ve spent a long time looking at your profile, Park. I know what I’m talking about here.”

As your fingers moved lower, feather-light down his jaw, Jimin’s smile disappeared.

“I like your jaw, too,” you told him.

In the darkness, his gaze glinted, and you felt his jaw tense.

“And your lips,” you added, gaze lowering. “I like those a lot.”

“Y/N…” Jimin’s eyes fluttered shut.

“Yeah?”

He slowly exhaled. “I just don’t want you to regret this.”

“Jimin.”

He opened his eyes.

Your expression was serious. “I told you I wouldn’t jump into something before I was ready,” you said, lifting your other hand. “But I’m not in love with Finn anymore. It doesn’t hurt when I think about what happened last semester. I like you, Jimin. I want you. I don’t want to keep pushing you away. I get if you’re unsure about this, though. If you’re unsure about me.”

Jimin’s gaze roamed your face. “Unsure?”

“I know I hurt you before. I shouldn’t have kissed you and ran away. But I promise this isn’t like that. I’m not running away. I’m the furthest thing from running and I –”

Cutting you off, Jimin pressed his lips to yours.

You shuddered a little, leaning into his kiss before he pulled back. Jimin exhaled, barely a breath before he kissed you again.

Noses brushing, lips lingering, the kiss slowly deepened. Your hands curled into his hair, pulling him forward to bask in his warmth. It was dizzying, how different this felt than last time. Last time you’d been heartbroken, desperately yearning each time your lips had touched.

Now, Jimin felt like air, like sunshine as you drowned in his presence. Hand grasping your waist, Jimin moved you closer so your chest nestled to his. Lifting his fingers, his touch skimmed your jaw, your hairline before he circled the nape of your neck.

Drawing away, he bit down on your lip. With a low sort of moan, Jimin sought your lips again. When his mouth opened yours, his tongue swept forward and you nearly combusted.

This was only to tease, though. Only to taste before he pulled away, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. Thumb skimming your jawline, Jimin tilted your head back to brush a kiss to your throat. Moving higher, he worshiped a slow path up the column of your neck. At your ear, he nipped gently before he returned.

Now, his kisses began to deepen. Mouths opening, your tongues brushed only briefly before he chose to withdraw. You were glad you were kissing on the couch, because suddenly your own legs felt weak underneath you.

Hand re-gripping his waist, Jimin pulled you against him. Eager, your hands found his neck and the blanket dropped to the floor. It wasn’t enough, though – you needed more, wanted to feel him fully beneath you. Rising on your knees, you swung a leg over his lap and settled on top.

Jimin hissed, his head hitting the back of his couch. Your dress had ridden up in the process, exposing your thighs – his thumbs skimmed the surface before he looked up.

“Shit,” Jimin croaked.

Smiling, you bent to kiss him again. Jimin arched upwards, each part of your body electric where you touched. He shifted his hips, granting friction and heat which made you short-circuit. Pressing yourself closer, your thighs sild backwards until they nestled around his waist.

Jimin’s hand found your spine, pulling you closer as his hips pushed upwards. You groaned when you felt him shift underneath you. The kisses grew steadily hotter, this ache in your core increasing with every touch.

“Can I…” Pulling away, Jimin glanced lower. “Can I take off the sweatshirt?”

“Yeah,” you said, a bit dazed.

Jimin didn’t waste time, helping you pull this swiftly overhead. It was tossed on the ground and when your dress was revealed, he inhaled.

Slipping his hands up your bodice, Jimin met your gaze. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he confessed, his voice hoarse.

“Do what?”

Your breath hitched when his hands skimmed your breasts, lingering in all your softest places.

“Touch you,” Jimin said. “It was torture to see you, to look at you and not be able to do this. Not how I wanted, anyways. I’d tell myself not to think about it, but…”

“Jimin.”

He paused and looked up. “Yes?”

“Touch me. Please.”

Without hesitation, Jimin slid his hands lower. Cupping your ass, he pulled you against him and allowed his other hand to drift up your spine. You shivered, closing your eyes as your head tilted back.

His hands slid up your front, over your breasts and under the straps of your dress. Jimin’s thumbs drifted lower, brushing your nipples through the fabric of your bodice. Opening your eyes, you looked down at him and saw his gaze darken.

Reaching higher, Jimin cupped the back of your neck and returned your lips to his.

He kissed you slowly, purposefully as you melted forward. Shifting against him, the kiss began to intensify. Mouths opening, your tongue swept forward in bold strokes against his. Suppressing a whimper, you ground your hips on his lap.

“Is,” you murmured, breaking free. “Is your bedroom unpacked?”

Jimin went still. “I – mostly, yeah.”

“Can I see it?”

“Fuck, yes,” he groaned, releasing your thighs as he stood from the couch.

You laughed, sliding down his front as your feet hit the ground. Tugging your dress down, you followed Jimin when he grabbed your hand. He pulled you down the hall, coming to a stop at the last room on the row. Pushing open the door, he flicked on the light and came to a stop.

Stepping forward, you glanced around Jimin’s room. You recognized some of the items from the two times you’d visited Jimin in the dorms. Photos of his family were carefully hung on the wall and he had the same pillows laid over his queen-sized bed.

Turning around, you took a step backwards and sat on his bed. “It’s nice,” you said, patting the comforter. “I like it here.”

Jimin watched you, his gaze half-lidded from the hall. “I like you here.”

Cheeks heating, you watched him enter and gently shut the door. Leaning back on your elbows, you arched a brow.

“Where’d we leave off?”

Jimin exhaled as he crossed the room. “I think you were on my lap,” he said hoarsely, kneeling beside you.

You nodded, moving to straddle him as he leaned to the wall. Catching your waist with both hands, Jimin pulled you against him, kissing you roughly even before you sat down. Suddenly ravenous, his hands slid to your ass as he rolled you against him. Inhaling sharply, you sucked his lower lip between teeth as he groaned.

Reaching up, Jimin tugged on your hair as you inhaled, throat exposed for him to kiss slowly down your front. When he returned to your lips, you ground your hips impatiently over the bulge in his pants.

Shifting his weight, Jimin’s spine hit the wall. He stared at you, slightly dazed with his kiss-reddened lips. Without looking away, Jimin lifted his fingers and began undoing his shirt. You stilled, watching each inch of skin be revealed. When he reached the last button, you gave in and helped push this aside. Smiling, Jimin sat up as his shirt fell to the floor.

You weren’t sure where to look first. Hands faltering, you slid them up his abs, over his shoulders and down his biceps. He was so perfect, it almost hurt to look at. Jimin’s breath quickened as you touched him and slowly, he lowered you down to the bed.

“Enough,” he said roughly, returning your lips to his.

As you kissed it turned lazy, nothing but grinding and touching. Jimin’s hair was messy beneath the pull of your fingers. He didn’t seem to mind, his own hands digging into the curve of your thigh. Playing with the hem of your dress, he deftly slid upwards.

“Jimin,” you said, breaking free. “Unzip me.”

His gaze darkened. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Jimin nodded, following suit when you sat up beside him. Turning around, you exposed your back and Jimin began to lower the zipper. He moved slowly, taking his time as his fingers brushed skin. Holding the dress up with your hands, you waited until it was fully unzipped before releasing it to the floor.

Turning around, you found Jimin’s jaw slack.

“You…” He roughly inhaled while he scanned your body. “Lace, Y/N? Really?”

“Do you like it?” you asked.

You may have gone overboard preparing for tonight. Although you hadn’t been sure what would happen, you also hadn’t wanted to be caught off your guard. Tonight, your constant need to plan had come in handy. Beneath your dress you’d worn a crimson lace bra and panties – a matching set which Jimin seemed to like, based on his expression.

“You’re going to kill me,” he muttered, lowering his lips to your neck.

Kissing slowly down your chest, he came to a stop where the two halves joined together. Skimming the length of your torso, his hands trembled a little when he brushed the lace.

Jimin looked up. “I’m sorry I keep touching you,” he murmured. “I just – you’re driving me crazy. You’ve been driving me crazy.”

“You said that before,” you whispered.

“I meant it.”

Kissing again up your body, he lingered in places your skin was exposed. Inhaling, your eyes fluttered shut as you grasped his shoulders.

Jimin’s hand slid between your thighs. “Part them,” he murmured, and you obeyed.

Heart racing, you opened your eyes and watched Jimin drag a finger slowly up the center of your panties. Even you could feel how damp the fabric was, how wet and ready you were for him.

Lifting his finger to his lips, Jimin sucked. “You’re soaking,” he breathed, sounding eager. “So good to me.”

Lowering his head, his tongue flicked your breast. Teasing the nipple through fabric, he urged and he sucked until it was fully erect. Moving onto the next one, Jimin grazed with his teeth until it pressed wantonly into the lace cup of your bra. Moaning his name, you arched against him.

Finding your wrists, Jimin pinned you backwards as he continued. Thighs caging your waist, he kept you hostage with his exquisite torture. The lace of your bra was now drenched, Jimin sucking debauchedly through fabric.

“Jimin,” you groaned, twisting on the sheets. “Please.”

His hips rolled lazily against your center. “Not yet,” he insisted before pulling back. “Not until you make a mess of my sheets. Want to ruin these panties.”

Sliding a hand between your thighs, he lightly circled your entrance. Feeling how wet you were, Jimin softly groaned. Sitting back on his heels, he finally relented and pulled your panties down. Tossing these to the floor, he returned to your thighs and spread your legs.

Lightly, Jimin dragged the pads of his thumbs up and down your panty line. “God, you’re so perfect,” he murmured. “Got my sheets fucking soaked.”

Separating two of his fingers, he slowly dragged his digits up and down your folds. You inhaled, feeling needy while you watched him touch you. Each brush of his fingers had you dripping – teasing over your entrance, he refused to give you exactly what you wanted. Feather-light, Jimin circled your swollen clit with his finger.

Hands gripping the sheets, you could only stare while Jimin brought you closer and closer to the edge. He was barely touching you, but it was the most turned on you’d ever been in your life. Jimin’s thumb swiped over your clit, rubbing you gently as you keened in frustration, arching against him.

He continued like this until you were gasping, begging for more and then – only then – did he slide a finger inside you. Legs trembling, you arched on his mattress and stared at him, glassy-eyed. When Jimin began to move in and out, you lost all control.

Lowering his head, he closed his lips over your clit.

“Oh my god,” you whimpered as you broke apart.

Barely did he suck before you were coming undone, pulsing around his fingers. Shuddering with pleasure, you collapsed on the bed as you rode out your high. Gently, Jimin pulled out his finger and returned to your lips.

Reaching behind you, he undid the clasp of your bra and tossed this on the floor. Once you were fully naked, he pulled you against him. You felt limp, thoroughly sated, but familiar excitement began to stir at his front pressed to yours. Tilting your head, he gently kissed you while your fingers wound in his hair.

Jimin moved slow, letting you take the lead. Your core continued to throb with oversensitivity, although this seemed to lessen the longer you kissed him. Before long, your nipples were hardening as you rubbed against him. Fingers digging into your thigh, Jimin pulled this over his hip to watch you lazily grind.

Realizing he still wore pants, you lowered a hand, determined to fix this. Jimin helped, dragging the zipper down to throw both these and his boxers down on the floor.

He bent to kiss you again, but you placed a hand on his chest. “Wait,” you murmured. “I want to see you.”

Jimin exhaled, leaning back so you could take in his body. If you’d thought his chest was unreal, it was nothing compared to his trim hips, sculpted thighs and cock nestled between.

“Oh,” you said, dragging a hand down his front.

Jimin shuddered a little. He was already hard, his cock thick and pretty with a reddened tip. It made your mouth water to look at, wanting to lick up the shaft. Reaching between you, you closed your fist around him and slowly jerked him off.

You watched in fascination as Jimin responded. His jaw tightened, abs tense while you teased over his frenulum. His cock responded instinctively, hardening further the longer you touched him.

After a few minutes of this, Jimin shook his head. “No more,” he said huskily, taking your hand in his. “I’ll come if you keep doing that.”

“Oh?” you murmured, gaze darting lower.

He chuckled, a rough sound in his throat. “I like watching you come,” Jimin confessed, his cock hard between you. “It turns me on. I’m… still trying to recover from your last orgasm.”

“Oh,” you said, in a completely different way.

Jimin exhaled, hair falling forward. “I hope that doesn’t weird you out.”

“Does it… weird me out that you like giving orgasms?”

“Well, when you put it like that.”

“How else would I put it?”

His grin became devious. “You could ask for another.”

Breathless, you nodded and Jimin’s gaze darkened.

He descended your body, not wasting any time as he positioned himself between your legs. Licking slow up your center, you gasped and instinctively drew your legs higher. Jimin didn’t bother easing you into it. No, now he ate you out like he wanted to.

Kissing your folds, he returned to your clit and sucked this into his mouth. Rolling the sensitive bud with his tongue, he teased and released before you knew what was happening. He continued to do this, spreading you underneath him and bringing you close to coming, only to pull back and leave you maddeningly empty.

Spreading your folds, he began licking sweetly over your clit. This was followed by loose, lazy sucking and more tender flicks. You stared dazedly at him between your legs, the sight more erotic than anything you could’ve imagined.

Grinding his cock into the sheets, Jimin thrust his hips while he pleasured you. You could tell he enjoyed this; each grunt from his lips was more affirmation. Moving lower, he circled your cunt with his tongue just to lap up your juices. You gasped at the sensation, having never felt it before. Flicking your clit with his thumb, Jimin fucked your cunt with his tongue before he slowly withdrew.

Spreading you wide, he returned to your clit and you clasped a hand over your lips before a moan could escape. Each curl of his tongue left you gasping, writhing beneath the pleasurable onslaught of his mouth. Pulling away, Jimin pressed a gentle kiss to your thigh before he rose up your body.

At your mouth, he kissed your fingers. “You don’t have to be quiet,” he told you. “I want to hear the noises you make, Y/N. It makes me feel good.”

Removing your hand, you slowly nodded.

Jimin just grinned, dropping between your legs to begin eating you out again. This time, you didn’t hold back. Jimin seemed to appreciate this as you slipped further from control. He was so good with his mouth, making you see stars as your legs started to shudder. When he slid his finger inside you and fingered you again, your hands fisted in the sheets.

“Ji-jimin,” you gasped, writhing beneath him. “Jimin, I – oh.”

He began to move faster, adding a second finger as your insides clenched around him. Everything tightened, hovering at a breaking point while Jimin continued, relentless. His mouth on your clit, his fingers inside you – everything broke apart when you came, gasping his name.

Jimin didn’t move, kissing your sex as you slowly came down. He lapped at your sex, licking up your arousal before withdrawing his fingers. Once your breathing had steadied, Jimin returned to the sheets beside you.

“Good?” he breathed, draping an arm over your waist.

“Oh my god, yes,” you exhaled, burying your face in his chest.

He laughed, pulling you closer. Jimin started to pull away, which made you look up and frown.

“What are you doing?” you said.

He paused. “I’m looking for a tissue.”

“Why?”

“I… I’m kind of at a loss here.”

“No, I mean why now,” you said, baffled. “I can come again, Jimin. I want to come with you inside me.”

Jimin stared at you a moment.

“Unless…” Uncertain, you hesitated. “You don’t want to…?”

“Fuck,” Jimin muttered, sounding hoarse. “No – I want to. I really want to. Are you sure, though?” he said, reaching to open the side drawer of his bed.

You grinned when he pulled out a condom, ripping this open.

“I’m sure,” you murmured, moving closer.

Jimin rolled the condom onto himself, pausing before he went any further. Shifting his weight so he hovered over you, Jimin searched your gaze. Reaching lower, you casually stroked his cock and guided him to your center.

He didn’t enter yet, content to take his time. Instead, Jimin bent and kissed you, dragging a hand down your side. His fingers paused at your breast, tweaking your nipple until it stood fully erect. Moving to your waist, he curved under your ass and lifted your hips to his.

Arching upwards, you felt his cock brush your center. The touch made you pant, wanting him inside you and wanting it now. Rolling over his length, you marveled at the feel of him between your legs. Having him so close and not having him inside you was maddening.

“Jimin,” you whimpered.

“Yeah?” he murmured, continuing to thrust between your thighs.

“Please,” you begged him.

“Alright, baby,” he said and rolled you onto your back.

It was the first time he’d used the endearment, sending a wave of warmth through you as your legs parted. Reaching lower, Jimin positioned himself at your entrance. It took him a moment to work his way in; you were so wet, he needed a second try. With only his tip inside, you immediately clenched and buried your head in his shoulder.

Lightly, Jimin brushed a kiss to your hair. “Relax, baby,” he murmured, making you glance up. “I’ll make you feel good. I promise.”

Slowly, you nodded. “Okay.”

Laying slowly back down, you tried to relax while he worked his way deeper. With slow, shallow thrusts, Jimin finally bottomed out and you stared at him in amazement. His cock was thicker than you were used to and stuffed to the brim like this, you felt so full. Glancing down, you saw his hips nestled snugly to yours.

When you looked up, Jimin met your gaze. “I’m sorry,” he exhaled, hanging his head. “I just – I need a minute.”

“What’s wrong?” you blurted, immediately worried.

A smile passed over his lips. “Nothing’s wrong.” He looked up. “You’re just… fuck. I feel like a damn virgin. You’re so tight and wet, I’m losing my mind.”

Hearing him say this sent a shiver through you. Shifting your hips, you reveled in the sensation of him moving inside you.

Jimin groaned. “No,” he protested. “You can’t do that right now.”

“Do what?”

“Try and make me move,” he murmured. “I know you can’t see yourself, so you can’t see how hot you look. Tits out, pussy spread and dripping all over my cock.”

“Oh,” you breathed.

“Sounding like that.”

“Jimin. If you don’t –”

He suddenly thrust deeper, grinding his pelvis against your core and making you groan. Speechless, you stared as he slowly pulled out. Jimin teased you with his tip, moving a few inches back in before he thrust again.

“Oh,” you groaned, jolted upwards on the bed.

His gaze dropped to your chest. “Fuck,” Jimin said quietly, dropping down to an elbow.

He moved again in earnest, thrusting slowly in and pulling back out. It made your breath catch, needing more but loving the torture. It was torture to feel every inch of him and have Jimin continue to hold back. You knew he could go faster, deeper, but wanted to stay in control.

Dropping his head, Jimin slowly kissed your neck. His cock continued to move, fucking you slowly as your legs opened wider.

“Jimin,” you whimpered.

Your hips chased after his, hoping to coerce him deeper.

He smirked. “Yes, baby?”

“Please,” you said, arching against him. “I want more.”

“You want it harder?”

As he said this, Jimin increased his strength. Keeping the tempo the same, each thrust of his cock had your lips parting with pleasure.

“Yes,” you whimpered, barely hanging on.

“And faster? You want that, too?”

You nodded, slack-jawed as Jimin sped up the pace. His cock began to pound into you, hand fisting in sheets as he gave it to you hard. Arching underneath him, your hands dragged down his back as Jimin fully let go. With each thrust of his hips, his pelvis brushed your clit and yet, it still wasn’t enough.

“More?” he teased, continuing to fuck you.

“More,” you whimpered, sliding your hands up your breasts. Tweaking the nipples, you watched his gaze harden. “I want more, Jimin.”

He immediately moved, as though he’d been waiting for this. Grasping your ankles in one hand, he lifted them high overhead and pulled his cock out. You gasped when he did so, your hands falling to the side while you were put on display. The position pushed your pussy lips together, giving an incredible view of your dripping cunt.

Jimin plunged his cock back inside, nearly making you scream. It felt so deep this way – so deep and hard and deliciously wanton. Jimin fucked you from above, hips slamming into you and making your breasts bounce.

Jimin groaned, his hips never faltering. “Touch them,” he said, lowering your ankles to one shoulder. “Touch your tits for me, baby.”

You obeyed, hands sliding over your breasts to tease your nipples. This sent a shock of pleasure straight to your core and Jimin hammered your g-spot, making you see stars. Jaw slack, you could only lie there and take it while he made you come.

It was too much, the wave of pleasure threatening to overwhelm, but then Jimin leaned forward and you finally snapped. You felt him release into the condom as you fell apart, rope after rope of hot cum inside you.

Eventually, Jimin softened and fell onto his elbow. As he opened his eyes, he sought your gaze and you smiled. His cheeks were flushed, his hair dark and sweaty and you couldn’t help the deep surge of affection within you.

“I don’t know about you,” he murmured. “But that was pretty fucking incredible.”

“Same here,” you whispered. “I’d like to do it again sometime.”

“Three orgasms weren’t enough?”

“Were they enough for you?”

“No.” Jimin laughed. “I could watch you come all night. But we should probably get you cleaned up and all that.”

“Probably,” you agreed, although you made no effort to move.

Eventually Jimin sighed and gently pulled out. Tossing his condom in the trash, he showed you to the bathroom and let you do what you needed to do. When you returned, Jimin was on top of his bed. He’d put back on his boxers and held out his sweatshirt.

“I thought you might want this,” he said, uncertain.

Smiling, you took it and lowered it over your head. Climbing beside him on the bed, you rested your head on his shoulder and cuddled beside him. Listening to his breathing, you concentrated until yours started to match.

Outside, cheers erupted from the street. Scrambling upwards, you fought to look out Jimin’s side window. As you hurried to see what the commotion was about, Jimin groaned when you flashed him your bare ass, but followed suit.

Glancing outside, you realized it must have turned midnight. Fireworks went off over the skyline, people cheered below, and someone had lit a sparkler on the street. Voices drifted higher, wishing each other a happy new year as slowly, you turned around to face Jimin.

He smiled at you, his happiness clear when he pulled you to him. A dizzying rush of what-if’s and excitement went through you and somehow, you knew this would be only the beginning.

“Happy new year,” he murmured.

“Happy new year,” you whispered, tilting your face up to his.

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading this series 😊 It’s been a whirlwind, so thank you for sticking with our main characters throughout the journey! I hope you enjoyed and are having a wonderful holiday season :) happy (almost) new year!

RAISE THE BARRE MASTERLIST 

© kpopfanfictrash, 2020. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[bubblyhoney]

win for me

warnings: lAnGuAgE, alcohol consumption (both reader and all other characters are of age to drink), marijuana use, Making Out™️, a miniscule Flowers from 1970 reference. PSA: WHEN UR INTOXICATED AND/OR AT A PARTY, TELL UR FRIENDS WHO YOU WILL BE WITH AND WHERE YOU WILL BE AT ALL TIMES. DRINK AND PARTY SAFELY!

tags: sapnap x fem!reader

summary: a collection of moments throughout the beginning of your relationship

words: 5000

A/N: even though this isn’t my most organized or perfect fic this was so incredibly fun to write. and it’s a college!au!! one of my favs. hope you guys like!! let's pretend the pandemic doesn't exist for this one too (please wear ur masks btw)

-

Sophomore Year:

Smells like shit in here is your first thought upon entering the laundromat.

It does, in all honesty. What would you expect a place where college students wash three months of dirty clothes and comforters with vomit to smell like? Urine and just a hint of marijuana, incidentally. The door closes noisily behind you and a guy in a black baseball hat turns his head at the noise. Half of his face is hidden underneath the shadow of his scruff and he says nothing, but you still offer an obligatory polite-stranger smile. The place is pretty deserted, what for it being nearly 4 in the morning. And you’re a rare kind of customer; only a few things to wash and you brought your own detergent.

There’s an empty washer next to an old woman in an acid-trip of a parka, and you sweep past the few other patrons with your mesh bag close. The man in the hat nods at you as you pass, looking up from his phone.

Okay. Dark load in one and delicates in the other, you remind yourself. The quarters get pushed through the slot (not without dropping three and having to scramble to pick them up before they disappear between the machines) and you fill the dispensers with a flowery laundry detergent your roommates hates. Oh, and the clothes go in. Done. You relax into a cracked plastic booth around the corner of the machine, pulling a book of crosswords from your bag.

Somebody yelps halfway through filling out a five letter word (“a series of thoughts, images, and sensations occurring in a person's mind during sleep”) and you jump. Baseball Cap rips open the dryer, fumbling around and supplying a pair of gray sweatpants. You can’t help but watch. He digs through both front pockets, pulling out a wad of dollar bills. He sighs, shoves the pants back into the dryer, and starts it with a hard push.

“Gut feeling?” You ask. He looks around for a second and settles his gaze upon you. Nice eyebrows, you think.

“Yeah,” he laughs, slightly nervous. “Yeah. I wore them yesterday and just remembered I put some tip money in my pocket.” Leaning back onto the shelf behind him, he shoves his phone into his pocket and folds his arms tight to his chest.

“I feel you,” you empathize, and set down your pencil. “I washed a parking ticket with my underwear last week.”

He stutters out a laugh, nodding.

“That must’ve sucked,” he adds.

“Yeah.” You shrug. “I wasn’t going to pay it anyways, but would’ve been nice to keep it for memory’s sake.” Rubbing at your knee offhandedly, you just watch him. He’s cute. And easy to make conversation with.

“Hey, um,” he mutters and clears his throat. “Do you by chance know some guy named Karl? Tall, messy brown hair and a horrible laugh?”

You open your mouth, then close it.

“Actually—,” you start but huff out a laugh. “Yeah, he’s uh, he’s dating my roommate. Why’d you ask?”

Reaching a hand to rub at his neck, his face twists into something sheepish.

“I’ve seen you at some parties this semester. I didn’t mean to sound creepy like that— I just—yeah.” His cheeks flush pink and he looks down to the ground.

“No worries,” you say, barely even thinking. “I think I’ve seen you too. You’re in Delta Tau Delta, right?”

“Nah, nah,” he laughs. “Just got some friends in there.”

“Ah.” You nod.

The conversation falls into silence, but not uncomfortable silence. He pulls out his phone again, and you look back to the crossword in front of you. The old woman between you leaves with a humongous load of blankets and a small family leaves with a cart full of bags; now it’s just you two.

When the washer with your delicates ding you nearly jump two feet in the air. Exhaling, you set your work down and open the door.

“Shit,” you curse as two bras fall onto the tile. You reach down to get a hand on a black lace bra and hide it quickly under your elbow. A sneaker squeaks loud in the almost-empty room and you see Baseball Cap’s shoulders.

“Here.” He’s kneeling as he hands you your pink bra and you accept it, biting your lower lip.

“Thanks,” you mumbles, slightly embarrassed, and step back to shove those bras and a couple pairs of your underwear into your bag. He offers you a small smile and backs off to his own machines, humming an off-key version of Unchained Melody to himself. Your other load of laundry gets shoved right on top of your delicates.

It’s when you’re nearly out the door, bell jingling, that you think to look back.

“Hey,” you start, almost stuttering for no reason. “What’s your name?”

He turns, dark eyebrows raised.

“My—uh… My friends call me Sapnap. You can call me that too.” Rosy cheeks once again; you seem to be making him awfully nervous.

“Sapnap.” You try it in your mouth, pursing your lips. “Okay. I’ll see you around Sapnap.”

He nods, affirming your statement.

“See you around Y/N.”

It doesn’t hit you until you’re buckling your seatbelt and starting your car that you realize you didn’t tell him your name.

Perhaps he knew more about you than you thought.

Yeah, you laugh to yourself. Karl’s got a big mouth.

Junior Year:

It takes you a collective twelve minutes to go talk to him.

It’s quiet in the library, students that happen to come here to study or procrastinate few and far between the scattered tables. Your poison today is a 4 page history paper on Normandy that you’d been staring at the instructions for for days. You’d already written a bunch of, frankly, horseshit for the body, but the introduction and conclusion were throwing you for a loop.

The vibes in Ridgeback Hall were also certainly off, today more than any other day; the main help-desk was empty and everybody had to do the tedious task of locating niche textbooks themselves.

Lifting your head from the wood of the table, you squint and focus your vision on the guy in the white tee and denim jacket that had been the focus of your thoughts for minutes. He chews at the end of his pencil, mouth screwed up into a ball, and shoots daggers at the empty notebook in front of him. You’re surprised it hasn’t caught on fire yet just from his gaze.

“Sapnap!” You whisper-shout, stretching your arms across the table as if it would make him any closer. A person with purple hair jumps at your voice but turns back to their laptop. “Sapnap!” you try again, tapping two fingers on the table. His head jerks up, eyebrows furrowed and an angry expression on his face, but softens at the sight of you.

“Y/N,” he counters, equally as loud but with a smile on his face.

“What’re you doing?”

“Calculus.” He sticks his tongue out, making an awfully tortured face. You laugh and wave your fingers at him, gesturing for him to come closer. He just huffs out a sigh, stacks all his papers in one pile, and gets up. The trek over to your table is short but he takes it so slowly you wonder if he always walks like that. Like a varsity basketball player who just got off a horse.

“You’re so slow.”

“Shut up,” he grumbles and settles into a chair across from you. “It’s 2 pm, give me a break. I need a Redbull.”

“Those are bad for you, you know,” you say matter-of-factly and drop your chin onto your hand. He’s even cuter from this angle, you think briefly. He just rolls his eyes.

“Whatever, Miss I’d-like-some-coffee-with-my-sugar-and-cream,” he teases, pointing to your venti iced coffee. It’s about as pale as the color of a band-aid. You just sigh and close your eyes. “You tired?” He flips his pencil in his hand and leans back into the seat, sighing.

“Yeah,” you mumble. “I haven’t slept yet today.”

“Wow, you’re dumb.” He looks scandalized. You just shrug.

“Perhaps. I don’t really know why I did it actually— just for funzies!” You raise an arm but let it drop back down. “I stayed up playing Sims.”

“Feel that. I play Minecraft with my buddies until like 2 am every night too. It’s nice,” he decides and folds his arms across his chest. Your eyes flit over to his strong arms, admiring the way his denim shirt looks around them. Thick.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“What?” He says too loudly and it warrants a ‘shush’ from another student. He reddens, but looks back down to you. “I—why do you ask?” You shrug, eyebrows raised.

“Just wondering. You’re too cute to not have one.”

“Right,” he huffs, but his cheeks stay pink. You two fall into easy silence, his eyes trained on the notebook in front of him and yours closed peacefully. “Are you dating anyone?”

They snap open not-so-peacefully.

“Nope. You wanna submit a boyfriend application?” A smile cracks your lips and he grins back.

“Maybe,” he replies and stares at your mouth. “I have to say—,” He stretches into a yawn. “I think I’m qualified.”

“Oh, yeah?” Your eyebrow quirks. “And why are you so qualified?”

“Well, first of all, I work at Ace Hardware. That’s where cool people work.” He presses one finger into his palm. Then two. “And I have a bunch of free time because said job at Ace Hardware only likes scheduling me in the mornings. Plus, I’m hot.” He shrugs.

You nod faux-seriously, considering his list.

“Those are very good qualities, sir. I’ll have to get back to you on that.” You pause. “Okay, I’ll schedule an interview. How’s 7 pm at the Chili’s on Main? Chili’s is the designated interview place.” You wiggle your eyebrows. He just smiles at you, shaking his head in disbelief.

“That was smooth.”

“Yeah, I know.” You carefully study your nails. “I’m pretty impressive.”

“Clearly,” he mutters and chuckles. “But I do like their salsa. And margaritas. We got a deal?” He holds out a large hand. You take it, squeezing tightly.

“Hell yes.”

When you see the man called Sapnap a week later, you are very obviously in a different state of mind.

Same state, same college town, but very different blood alcohol contents.

“Sappy!” You shout, raising your arms above your head with a stupid grin on your face. He turns, that familiar look of surprise evident in his expression.

“Y/N,” he laughs and approaches your group of friends in the kitchen. It’s Greek Wedding night at Delta Tau Delta, and you assume Sapnap came to support Delta’s “groom” Alex. You’d gotten uncharacteristically drunk, trading air for sangria, and you were now in the incredible stage where everyone was both your friend and your favorite person.

Throwing an arm around his shoulders, you mash your face into his bicep and giggle.

“Missed you so much,” you try to manage out of your mouth, but it comes out slurred and stuttered. “So much.” You’d gone to Chili’s two days before and promised another ‘interview’ in the next few days, but it felt like two months away from your beloved. Beloved friend, that is. Only one date.

“Yeah?” He places a hesitant hand on your back and nudges you into a standing position. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Oh, shhhh,” you mumble and close your eyes. “Only— a lot.” Blinking them back open, you zero your gaze in on a bottle of Ciroc half-empty and looking very tempting on the kitchen island across from where you’re leaned up against the kitchen sink. He catches your gaze and steps in front of you, pleasant face filling your vision. You gasp.

“You are so cute.” Sliding your palms up onto his face, you hold his scruffy cheeks in your hands and smile all dopey at him.

“Is that your brain or the alcohol telling you that?”

“Uh,” you swallow. “Both. And my heart.”

He just shakes his head and his chest moves with a heavy laugh.

“Glad to hear it.”

“Are you having fun?” You ask, all concerned and furrowed eyebrows. You look like you’re genuinely interested and worried about if he’s having a good time or not, and it makes his expression melt.

“I’m having lots of fun,” he passes over his shoulder as he flips on the tap and fills a red solo cup with water. “In fact, I’m gonna have a nice, cold glass of water right now.” He shakes it like an owner offering their dog a treat.

You eye the cup in his hand, having half a thought that this might be some sort of backwards psychology move. The other half wins.

“That sounds so good right now— can I drink some?” Your eyebrows pull together and your bottom lip drops into a pout. It makes him blink for a second. He remembers the little game you’re playing and just hands it over, smug. You gulp it down quickly and crush the empty plastic into your palm with an exaggerated exhale. “Hit the spot,” you sigh, and pat your stomach fondly.

“You hungry?” Sapnap asks you as he steadies you with two hands on your shoulders. Something pops into your head at his words: a set of two McChickens and an Oreo milkshake.

“Oh my God,” you gasp, and mirror him by placing your hands on his shoulders. “Can we go to McDonald’s?”

He just shakes his head, grin wide on his lips, and shrugs. Perfect teeth, you think.

“I haven’t drank anything, so I’m good to drive.” He pulls his keys from his pocket. “I know you’re smashed right now so—do you feel safe with me?” The question falls from his mouth and you truly consider it, pulling your lip between your teeth.

“Yeah. I’ll take this just in case,” you say, and take a large dinner fork from the counter next to you. It has some red liquid on it that you brush off onto the fabric of your jeans.

“That’s actually gross.”

“Yeah.” You grip it tighter in your head. “But it’ll do the job if you try any shit. I’ll put this in your eyeball.” Brandishing it, a smile stretches onto your mouth. He just shakes his head and heads for the back door, jerking a hand in your direction to get you to follow him.

The cool night air explodes on your face when you step onto the porch and it makes you blink rapidly. Sapnap is right at your side, offering a forearm as you slowly make your way down the two back porch steps. A tall blonde smoking half of a blunt makes a grunt noise as you two pass and your knight-in-shining armor looks up.

“Gonna go get some food. Want anything?” Sapnap stops on the rocky path to the sidewalk, tilted up to hear the blonde’s response. The other guy shakes his head but nods to you in passing.

“I’ll tell her friends where she went,” says the blonde, and disappears through the sliding glass doors.

Your hand falls from his forearm to his hand and grasps it tightly, swinging back and forth as you stumble to his car. You flash him a grin that he just chuckles at.

“Watch your step,” he warns as you yank on the handle of the passenger door and nearly fall off of the curb.

“I’m fine,” you huff, and scramble to get yourself upright into the seat and buckled. He closes your door and jogs to the driver’s seat, climbing in and starting the engine quicker than your head comprehends.

The small space fills with the sound of Letters to Cleo as he’s maneuvering out of his parking spot and he slaps a hand at the stereo button almost immediately. His cheeks redden as he glances at you once.

“I love Letters to Cleo,” you admit, and switch it back on. Ah, Co-Pilot. A classic. “Be my co-pilot!” You sing, loud and sharp. He shakes his head but huffs out a reluctant laugh.

“My older sister loved them. Bit old for my taste, but—you know. Can’t deny that I love a little bit of 90’s angst.”

“Absolutely,” you nod vigorously and pick at your nail. “Oh!” The fork magically reappears at your side and you grab at it. “For my McChickens.”

“And for me,” he adds.

“Yup. You too.” But you drop it onto the seat and lean forward, fumbling with the volume dial until you feel the lead singer’s voice thumping into your heart. “I love this lady!” You shout and rock your head to the beat.

Shaking his head, his shoulders move in an easy laugh. The drive-thru line is kind of busy for 2 am, he notes, pulling in right behind a navy BMW sedan. But it moves quickly, especially when you’re moving in your seat, scream-singing the lyrics to I Want You To Want Me.

“Yeah,” he says, loud into the mic. “Two.”

“Alright.” The voice reports from the speaker, a background clicking joining their bored tone. “Two McChickens, a double cheeseburger—ketchup and pickle only— , a medium fry, and an Oreo McFlurry. Anything else, sir?”

Sapnap chews on his lip, and glances at you. You just give an encouraging thumbs up.

“That’ll be all,” he reports.

“Second window, and your total is $9.67.”

He barely has time to call a “thank you so much!” before the line ends with a click. Rude.

“Jesus Christ,” you moan the second you sink your teeth into your first sandwich.

“Agreed,” he mumbles and pushes as much cheeseburger he can fit into his mouth.

“This,” you start, swallowing. “is the sexiest thing I’ve encountered in all of my years. I thank all higher powers when I consume McChickens…” Trailing off for dramatic effect, you stare down the sandwich before mimicking a dinosaur war cry and practically shoving it down your throat. He just nods in agreement.

“It’s so nice out tonight,” Sapnap comments, swinging a look out his rolled-down window. He parked right in front of the Campus Quad, large bubbling fountain the show to your dinner. And some geese fighting each other for half a rotting hot dog.

“Mhm.” You crumple up your wrapper trash and toss it into the empty paper bag. “Could totally go for a swim.”

He turns and gives you a look. You look right back.

“Should we?” It’s barely a question.

“Um, hell yes,” is all it takes for you to say before you’re clambering out of the car and starting for the fountain. He follows closely after, jogging to catch up with your borderline track-star sprints.

“Wait up!” He calls as you reach the border of the fountain.

“Ugh,” you sigh, impatient. “Hurry up.”

“Mouthy,” he grumbles before kicking off his shoes and bending to fold his pants up over his knees. You just climb straight in and brave the cold.

Squealing, you hop from one foot to the other, shoulders tight as you get used to the freezing water. He laughs and climbs in right beside you.

“Shit,” he curses, and shivers. “This sucks.”

“You suck,” you quip right back and splash around. He stares, disgusted, at the water soaking up your jeans all the way up to your knees.

“You’re gross for wearing jeans in a fountain. That’s worse than wet socks.” He starts to move around as feeling comes back into his toes.

“What, would you prefer me taking my pants off?” A sassy look paints your face and he rolls his eyes.

“No, but you could’ve folded them up like a normal person.”

“I think you forget,” you start, and splash a palmful of water his way. “I’m quirky.”

He gasps, face twisting as the water hits his thighs.

“You’re dead.”

If campus police were patrolling the Quad right now, they’d see two college juniors wading around in a fountain, water up to their knees, having a competition to see who can inflict the most damage. He won, it seems, because your shirt is drenched all the way up to your ribs.

“Okay!” You shout, hands spread to brace yourself. The water in his palm falls. “I’m cold and I want my other McChicken.”

“Fine,” he sighs, and with some difficulty manages to get out of the fountain and back into his shoes. You just make your way back over to his car barefoot, braving the mulch and poorly-sanded concrete.

You both finish your food quickly, discussing menial things like how fast food restaurants always skimp on the pickles and how it’s truly a disservice to the world that so many people don’t know it’s Biggie singing the song Kat dances on the table to in the 1999 classic 10 Things I Hate About You.

When Sapnap pulls up to your house, he shifts the car into park and lets loose a heavy sigh. You whip around, hand on your buckle, and sport a very confused look on your face.

“I’m tired,” is all he says. Head falling onto the seat, he rolls over to give you a half-lidded look. You nod empathetically and climb very carefully out of his passenger seat. Your drunk muscles haven't caught up to your mainly sober brain, which is impairing your ability to look like a functioning human being.

“Thank you for tonight,” you chirp, smiling in at him with your arms folded on the open window sill. The half-drank Oreo McFlurry is lukewarm in your hand. He stares at your flushed lips.

“Anytime you want a drunk McChicken let me know.” He winks. “I have a gift card.”

“You spoil me,” you coo, and step up onto the sidewalk. “I’ll see you sometime soon, yeah?”

He nods, pursed lips fighting a grin.

Cute, you both think at the same time.

Sometime soon, somehow, means the very next day.

It’s breezy yet uncharacteristically hot out, and certainly way too bright for a hungover Y/N.

You’re sat on the porch swing, nursing a hot decaf coffee with lots of sugar and cream. Sunglasses sit comfortably on your nose, but you still have to squint. The pills you took have yet to kick in, so all you have to do is wait and try not to vomit into your mug. Suddenly, your phone lights up and buzzes to life. You press the green button and lift to your ear.

“What do you want?” Your voice is awfully froggy, you realize, and clear your throat.

“Good morning to you too.” Sapnap’s voice rings clear yet husky into your ear. The corners of your lips twitch up into a smile. God, you’re whipped just for the sound of his voice.

“It is definitely not a good morning,” you grumble and switch him into speaker phone. You drop the phone into your lap and stretch out further on the swing.

“Good morning for me,” he chirps cheerfully. “Take anything for the headache?”

“Yes,” you report, sounding like a pouting child and rubbing two fingers into your temple. “Some idiot fed me ice cream last night so this morning I woke up having to both shit and throw up.”

“Aww,” he sympathizes, sounding way too entertained. “That sounds like a you problem.” You stuck out your tongue, but upon realizing he can’t see it, make a ‘hmph’ noise into the mic. “Anyways. I called to see if you wanted to go get breakfast with me. Waffle House, specifically.” You make a face but lift yourself up off the swing, wincing.

“I saw a rat eat an entire piece of french toast there once. But—sure. I’ll pay.” He starts to whine, but you scoff. “Let me love you, bitch. You pay for my McDonald’s and I pay for your pancakes. Easy trade.”

“Whatever. See you in five.” He hangs up right as you twist the front door open and drop your phone onto the couch.

“Who’re you talking to?” comes from the kitchen and you jump, pressing a hand to your chest. A shirtless Karl enters the living room with a bowl of fruit loops in his hand.

“Jesus Christ,” you breathe, and duck into the hall closet for your pair of dirty tennis shoes. “I was talking to Sapnap.”

“Oh,” he says around his mouthful of cereal with a grin. “You guys dating yet?”

You pass him a weird look, bending to tie your shoes.

“Gimme like two weeks. I’ll have him at my beck and call,” you laugh and collapse back into the couch.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” He quirks an eyebrow and exits stage left into your roommate’s room.

The few minutes it takes for Sapnap to come to your house are short but filled with contemplation. Do you really want to date him? He’s certainly cute enough. Nice enough. And smart enough. He seems to like you too—

A honk interrupts your thoughts. Always having to be obnoxious, huh?

“You’re annoying,” you mumble as you buckle your seatbelt. He just shrugs, tiny smile tugging his lips, and shifts into drive. The short trip to Waffle House proves more quiet than lively. He seems awake, actually, so you attribute the silence to your tumultuous thoughts. The music is nice, though. Bikini Kill is perfect for 10 am.

After you two order (three chocolate chip pancakes for him and two regular waffles with a side of hashbrowns for you), he finally breaks the silence.

“Hey, are we dating?”

You pause with your lip on the rim of your orange juice. Your gaze falls from his lips to his fingers wrapped around the coffee mug. Two silver rings adorn both his middle fingers and they glint underneath the fluorescent lights.

“Do you wanna?” You squint back up at him. The tips of his ears flush pink.

“I-uh… Yeah. Yes,” he says simply. You try to hide a smile, but realize there’s no point.

“Okay.” You take a long drink of your orange juice. “I really like you. A lot. A surprising amount, actually; I haven’t really dated seriously since highschool.”

He nods, shuffling his feet on the tile. What else does he have to be nervous about? you wonder.

“I’ve… kindasortamaybelikedyousincesophmoreyear,” he mumbles and you swallow.

“Huh?” Leaning forward, you set your glass down.

“Um,” he starts but doesn’t finish.

“Did you say you’ve liked me since sophomore year?”

“...Maybe.” His coffee becomes the most interesting thing in the world, apparently. “Do you remember that one time during the Summer Carnival where Karl lost his phone?”

“Uh—yes! Yeah, actually. I do remember that. He found it in the porta-potty. What about it?” The waitress sets down both your plates in front of you and you offer her a smile in thanks before she trundles off to the drink station. You pick up your fork and wait for him to continue.

“I left two hours early because you invited Michael from your computer science class.” You pause around your mouthful of potato and he just stares back, trying not to grin. “Yeah. I thought you were hot and left early because you brought another guy.”

“Michael is gay,” you say slowly.

“Yup.” He nods and shoves a forkful of pancake into his mouth. “Isn’t that so stupid?”

“So stupid,” you tease but your cheeks blush pink.

“Anyways. Now I’m dating you, so. Win for me.”

“Ditto,” you murmur, and manage to fit half of your first waffle into your mouth. “This is the easiest it’s ever been to start dating someone.”

“It’s ‘cause we’re cool, I’m pretty sure,” comes from a mouthful of pancake.

“That’s facts.”

The rest of Pancake House is bustling, a few families with young kids and some other hungover college students scarfing down similar breakfast foods and confections. You two barely give any other customers the time of day, too wrapped up in conversation and each other. The waitress gets a heavy tip after an hour and a half of struggling to swallow dough soaked in syrup and chocolate.

Sapnap walks you to your door after breakfast, hand on your waist and pressed to your side. It feels good. Right.

“I’ll see you Wednesday right?” You ask, turning to him with hopeful eyes. How could he resist?

“Definitely. Wouldn’t miss Game Night for the world— I can’t wait to beat your ass at Uno.”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” You murmur but you’re already slinging an arm around his shoulder and bringing his mouth down to yours.

You taste like sugar, he thinks. His hands find the small of your back easily, pressing you further forward into him. You hum at that, tracking a hand up the back of his neck and into his hair to grip it between your fingers.

He smells both musky and sweet and cool at the same time: heaven. One of his hands slides up to grip at your neck, thumb rubbing at your jaw, and you make a pleased noise into his mouth. There it is.

“Y/N!” Shrieks from inside your house and you jump, pulling away from Sapnap with a smack.

“What?” You yell back, irritated, and he just laughs as he dips to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Stop tonguing your boyfriend and come help me with my photography project.”

“God damn it,” you sigh and drop your hands. His slide down to just rest on your hips, comfortable. “I have to go.” You're annoyed, that’s for sure, and he prays you aren’t too mean to your roommate.

“Alright.” He dips for a quick kiss one last time. Okay, two more times. Maybe three. But he pulls away, grinning. “I’ll see you Wednesday.”

And then he’s stepping off your porch, walking to his car with his hands in his pockets. You watch his back fondly.

God, boyfriend. He’s your boyfriend. Boynap. Sapfriend. You can’t decide on a name, but all sounds perfect.

Perfectly him.

-

A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. :D comments = welcome!

[bretwalda-lamnguin]

#hey what the hell the idea of DENETHOR AND ECTHELION having had a REVERSE second best situation while turgon was alive is sooooo…… #of him being better thought of than ecthelion…i mean im SURE ecthelion felt threatened by that even before turgon died! #and then denethor Instantly validates all his concerns! and depending on how publicly his sidelining of denethor was. it kind of destined #him to be remembered by the pro-denethor contingent in gondor at the time as the father who should’ve stepped aside for the son #and yet clung to power…..There’s So Much Here. #i just think it would be sooooo fun if in the ecthelion-denethor:denethor-faramir parallel #denethor is smart enough to see the parallel that one duty outweighs the other but NOT emotionally intelligent enough to realize that maybe #faramir is coming from a similar place (or at least line of reasoning) as himself… #that he doesnt intend to do his father any wrong but to him he is making The Only choice that he possibly can#and honestly he’s probably doing his father a favour. its emphatically Not his fault that his father took it as an insult #its just. really delightful to me. ur so close and yet so far. ALTHOUGH maybe it doesn’t even matter #to him duty to gondor comes above all else. augh wait. the fact that in this interpretation he kind of UNINTENTIONALLY sacrifices his #relationships with both his father AND his younger son. for the sake of his duty to gondor. god. well that was a fun revelation for 10:12am #theres such a tasty opportunity for just some Major cognitive dissonance in how he processes all that! #i never took from you / asked of you anything that was not already mine to have. it is NOT my fault how you decided to take that #vs just like an enormous (self centred of course) regret. not ‘if i hadn’t done that’ but more of like. #i cant allow myself to regret what i did because i did what was right. but i wish i could’ve lived in a time when it wasn’t necessary

#MAN ONE MORE THING. and then i promise im done. i am literally still thinking about what you said last week about denethor and thorongil #that denethor either has to defeat thorongil or claim him for himself. AUGH THAT WAS CRAZY. #but my point is that i feel like ecthelion looks at the intensity of denethor’s rivalry with thorongil and thinks Well. #i think it is definitely partially engineered on ecthelion’s part but im going back and forth whether it was that the rivalry was born #completely out of their battle for ecthelion’s favour or if thorongil came in and he and denethor kind of See each other #in a numenorean2numenorean moment. and experience immediate self recognition in the other (DEROGATORY) and ecthelion looks at that and goes #hmm. an opportunity has arisen. idk both are fun #FASCINATING IMPLICATIONS RE: HIM NEVER TRYING TO TAKE ANYTHING HE DIDNT THINK HE HAD THE RIGHT TO HAVE!!!! #WOW. WOW…i mean just holy shit the idea of maybe the first time he’s allowing himself to want something (someone) out of not even Not Duty #but just Pure Fucking Spite. but also maybe at the same time being like. he (ecthelion)’s claimed something that should rightfully be mine. #now it’s my turn. see how he likes it when i take his favourite captain for MY own. god thats so messed up im fucking delighted #man this is like three essays compressed in here LOL i prob should’ve put it in a reblog but i wanted it to go through peer review first….

@afaramir's tags, I'm so glad you get this! It's the only way this works for me tbh, and the triangulation between Ecthelion-Aragorn-Denethor is so potentially interesting.

Ecthelion isn't evil or stupid, he knows full well that Denethor is powerful and cunning. I also do not get at all interpretations where Ecthelion thinks Denethor is weak, I don't like that with Faramir, with Denethor it's just incomprehensible.

Denethor was always clever, driven, eldritch and had a ruthless streak I think, and that scared Ecthelion.

I love what you said about Denethor being clever enough to see the parallel with himself and Faramir, but not emotionally intelligent enough to understand where Faramir is coming from! That's so tragic I love it.

Also yes Denethor and Aragorn are definitely rivals for their own sake as well! Denethor sees Aragorn as a mystery to be solved and a bomb he must diffuse before it goes off, but who in his hands could be a powerful weapon. Meanwhile Aragorn knows short term that if anyone blows his cover it will be Denethor, and long term only he can deny him the throne. But beyond the political dynamics of the trio there are all kinds of messy personal feelings, both love and hate that get in the way. Denethor claiming Aragorn out of spite is great.

I’ve said before that I find Denethor and Ecthelion’s relationship strange. Denethor is clearly very competent, very dutiful and very Númenorian. You’d think he’d be seen as the perfect heir to the Stewardship, and yet his relationship with Ecthelion seems abysmal. Ecthelion prefers Thorongil over him, despite them giving him basically the same counsel.

I think I’ve managed to wrangle a set of headcanons that make sense to me. Most of this is speculation, but hopefully in character.

Denethor saw himself as being destined to lead Gondor during a time of great need, and Sauron’s return to Mordor happens when he is in his early 20s. Turgon still lived, with Ecthelion as his heir. Denethor’s power and cunning were presumably obvious from a young age. Perhaps by this point he was already better thought of than Ecthelion by some.

Ecthelion seems to have been a competent leader, and certainly no fool. The appendices call him “a man of wisdom”, but this seems a far cry from Denethor’s description:

“a proud man, tall, valiant, and more kingly than any man that arisen in Gondor for many lives of men; and he was wise also, and far-sighted, and learned in lore.”

“A masterful lord, holding the rule of all things in his own hand.”

In this context, Ecthelion almost seems to be being damned with faint praise. Denethor was dutiful and did not take that which he did not see as his right. He made no claim on the throne. His use of the Palantir however shows great self-confidence, which along with his belief of being destined to lead Gondor and the old Húrinionath tradition of being led not by the most senior but most competent man of their family may have led to strife with Ecthelion.

I think shortly after Turgon’s death Denethor made Ecthelion an offer, to make Denethor joint or sole regent to rid himself of the troubles of ruling, similar to Romendacil II with his father and uncle. Ecthelion took this (understandably but wrongly) as Denethor threatening him and plotting a coup. This shatters their relationship and leads to Ecthelion’s close relationship with ‘Thorongil’. He’s the perfect answer to Denethor, removes any need for dependence on his son and is undoubtedly loyal (while also serving as a surrogate son). Thorongil is a perfect shield for Ecthelion, and Denethor’s rivalry with him keeps Ecthelion’s position safe.

This holds until Ecthelion begins to show his age. Unable to rule anymore, he’s forced to concede more power to Denethor, who now starts to take up the regency. Aragorn is backed into a corner in this potential powder keg and decides to take his victory at Umbar and quit while he’s ahead.

This also neatly parallels Denethor's own relationship with Faramir. Ecthelion believes Denethor is disloyal because his duty to Gondor outweighs his duty to his father. Denethor in turn sees Faramir as disloyal because his duty to his own moral code outweighs his duty both to his father and his country.

[forever-rogue]

Feels Like Home

Summary | Bucky just seems a little out of sorts lately, so you decide to do something special for him. 

Pairing | Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2k

Warnings | none

Masterlists | Bucky, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Bucky had been different lately. Not bad or mean or anything just...different. Off. 

No matter how hard you tried to figure it out, you just couldn’t. That left you with the only logical conclusion you could think of. 

“Buck?” you were sitting at the kitchen table, silently eating dinner as you sat across the table from each other. About halfway through your meal, you’d lost your appetite and set your fork down before pushing your plate away. That garnered his attention as he turned to look at you with a weak little ghost of a smile. You couldn’t take this anymore so you just decided to go ahead and ask, “are you upset with me?”

“What?” he set his own fork down as his brows narrowed and he gave you a quizzical expression, “what are you talking about, Bub? W-where did you get that idea?”

“Have you really not noticed?” you asked softly as he leaned closer. You could see that there were darker than normal circles under his eyes, and he just looked...tired. Exhausted even. He shook his head slowly as you sighed lightly, “you’ve been different. We’ve been different. Did I...did I do something? Are you going to break up with me?”

“I...no - never. I would never break up with you, Bub,” he insisted, wondering where all of this suddenly came from. You just shrugged lightly as tears pricked at the back of your eyes and you focused on your plate, “I love you, you must know that.”

“Then why have you been pushing me away?” your voice was small and shaking as a single tear rolled down your cheek. Bucky made a small sound in the back of his throat as you swiped at the wetness before looking back up to meet his eyes, “the past couple of weeks, I just feel like you’ve been shutting me out. If I did something, please just tell me. I just want you to be okay - for us to be okay.”

“Bub,” he slowly stood up and walked to your side of the table before sinking down on his knees, turning your chair towards him with no effort. He reached for your hands and gently took them in his, his larger ones easily engulfing yours. You held back a sniffle as you met those ocean eyes you loved so much, “I’m not upset with you, or anything. I’m sorry, so sorry if you think that’s what’s going on. I love you a little more every day - this is...it’s just been rough lately.”

“Is everything okay? Are you alright, Bucky?” you dropped one of his hands and brought yours to his face, gently stroking his cheek. He closed his eyes and keened lightly into your touch, “what’s going on?”

“I just...this feels so silly,” he admitted softly, “but sometimes I’m just reminded by how out of place I am. I’m a hundred and six-year-old man in a modern world. It feels...odd sometimes.”

“Oh Bucky,” you whispered softly. You couldn’t lie and say you understood what he was going through or feeling, but you’d always be there for him. That much you did know, and he knew it too, even if there were times that were harder, “I’m sorry, my love. I know it must be hard sometimes, I can’t even imagine, but I’m always here for you. You can tell me anything, even the most mundane thing. But you do belong here - you belong here with me, and Sam, and Sarah, and everyone else. You’re right where you’re supposed to be, even if it doesn’t feel like it. If there’s anything I can do to help, whatever it is, just tell me, okay?”

“Yes,” he whispered softly, giving you a gentle nod before he took your hand and pressed a kiss to your palm, “I love you. I’m sorry I’ve made you think anything but. It’s not you at all...just me.”

“Hey,” you put your hand under his chin and tilted his face up towards yours, “I love you, James. Always.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was an interesting thing to be with Bucky. He was a man that, if you didn’t know any better, was very much a man of the times. He dressed, acted, and felt the part. But underneath it all, you knew there were times when he was still left in amazement or awe. You’d say something and he would look at you with that expression. 

But now that you knew better, there were times when you could see something flicker across his face. There were times when you could sense that he was missing something. Even if he didn’t mention anything. 

So when you saw something interesting cross your social media feeds that piqued your interest, you came up with a plan. You hoped he would like it - it wouldn’t be much, but you hoped it would be good enough either way. Maybe a little surprise for your lover was a little push in the right direction to get his mood up a little bit.

Whatever happened, you were willing to try. Anything to put a smile back on his sweet face. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The whole apartment smelled of delicious cooking; you’d been hard at work for the last several hours, attempting to perfect this evening’s meal and dessert for him. You weren’t a huge natural when it came to the kitchen, but you’d watched enough TikToks on how to make meals you knew were a part of his childhood and practically committed them to memory. 

You’d turned on some light jazz that you knew he’d like - and you did as well - swaying slightly to the music as you worked on finishing everything up. Everything did look good, and you hoped that he would like it. If nothing else, you knew he’d appreciate the effort. You could do something as simple as pour him a cup of coffee in the morning and he’d be over the moon. The man really did love you more than you thought was ever possible. For once you wanted to turn the tables around and make him feel as special as he always made you feel.

“Bub?” Bucky’s soft voice surprised you so much that you almost jumped out of your skin. You were putting together a salad and had been so focused on chopping and singing quietly along to the music that you hadn’t even heard him come in. You turned around and gave him a giant smile before almost running over to him, “what’s all this? Smells good.”

“James,” you whispered softly before gently touching his face and carding your hand through his hair, “you’re home just in time. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he promised softly, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, “what’s going on?”

“It’s just...it feels silly now, so don’t laugh,” you insisted as he raised an eyebrow at you, “I wanted to do something special for you.”

“For me?” he asked softly, immediately overwhelmed by the idea that you went through any trouble for him. You bit your lip and shyly nodded, “what for?”

“I just...you mentioned you’ve been having a bit of a hard time lately and I wanted to do something special for you to maybe make it a little better,” you admitted, as you took his hand and pulled him further into the kitchen, “now, don’t get too excited because it’s nothing super special but I hope you’ll like it.”

“You gonna tell me what it is, Bub, or am I going to have to guess?” he asked softly as you realized you hadn’t exactly told him what was going on. You pointed to the various dishes on the counter and food still on the stove that was warm and ready. Bucky looked around and inhaled the familiar smell of the foods he had grown up with back during his childhood. A lump welled up in his throat as his heart felt like it was about. You were beaming at him, waving your hands in a small ‘ta-da’ motion, “you did all this for me?”

“I did,” you admitted, “hopefully the recipes are somewhat real and the food somewhat good? There were a few things that left me wondering what the hell you guys were eating back then! But...I just wanted to do something to make you feel a little more, at home? I dunno. Like I said, it’s not much, but it’s a little something.”

“I love it,” he admitted softly as he turned to you, his blue eyes soft, “I love you. This is...this is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me.”

“Wow,” you whispered as he pulled you into his arms, “that’s saying a lot for a man that’s been through hell and back multiple times. You sure about that, James?”

“I am,” and then he kissed you. Softly and slowly, wrapping his arms around your body as he held as tightly as possible in his arms. You threw your arms around his neck as you held him back, “no one has ever seen me like you do, has treated me like you. You are everything. I love you so much. I’m sorry I ever made you doubt for even a second.”

“I love you too, James,” you whispered as you pulled back and cradled his face in your hands, “so much more than you’ll ever know. I would do anything just to see that sweet smile back on your face. Even if it’s something little like this.”

“Little?” he asked, looking around at the mountain of food and dishes you’d prepared, “by the looks of it, this took you some time!”

“Okay...maybe most of the day,” you admitted, “but it was worth it. You are worth it, my love.” 

“As much as I want to eat of all this, will you do me a favor first?” he asked softly, taking a step back and admiring you. It was funny, how he still managed to make you feel this shy and nervous, even after being together for years.

“Anything.”

“Dance with me?” he asked as you realized you still had the music playing in the background. You laughed lightly but nodded, taking his outstretched hand and letting him take the lead. It was quiet for a while, the only sound was the gentle music and the soft whispers of adoration you exchanged, “I love you, Bub.”

“I love you, James.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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[literallydontlook]

The Unexpected

You’re just not that interested in dating military men, nor have you ever been with an alien lover. But a chance Ascension Week encounter awakens something you didn’t know was inside. Chapter 1 of 4.

Pairing: Thrawn x f!reader

Rating: 18+

TW/CW: none (or if I’m missing something, please let me know!)

Tags: sexual tension, romance, slow burn, civilian reader, sexual fantasy, m@sturbation

Word count: 3k+

A/N: I definitely don’t consider myself a writer, but it was nice doing something creative that was so ~*self-indulgent*~. Literally just for me! This story tries to take place in universe, before Thrawn achieves the rank of Grand Admiral. No idea how long Eli and Thrawn spend on Coruscant in between missions, but it’s my fantasy and I make the rules. I started off intending to write nasty smut but ended up writing a slow burn romance lol. This is for all 12 of us who are deeply in love with Thrawn but also can’t imagine themselves serving on the Chimaera.

Part 2 ->

Chapter 1 - The Trap

There was a brief pause as you considered his invitation. You hadn’t had a night out in weeks - and it would be an opportunity to eat expensive food while rubbing elbows with prospective clients. It’d be foolish to pass on one of Ascension week’s most anticipated events.

You looked up from the studio’s washing station where you were rinsing paint brushes and scrubbing the pigment from your hands, “Sure - that sounds fun.”

Ban Pollalarm flashed you a smile as he came around to admire your work - or rather his own likeness - on the easel, “I’m honored.” You knew he’d probably never been turned down in his life and internally rolled your eyes at his feigned gratitude. He was clearly using you.

“Send me your address and I’ll pick you up,” He said distractedly. There was some silence as you put away your supplies, hopelessly trying to tidy the cluttered studio so you could go home.

“I look quite heroic, no?” he marveled, pleased with the portrait beginning to take shape. Ban was no different than the last 3 TIE pilots you’d painted: conventionally handsome, self-centered, and arrogant.

“Well I’m glad you’re happy with the progress,” you said diplomatically as you dried your hands. You made towards the door, hoping he’d understand the signal meaning his session was over, “I’ll see you tomorrow night then?”

He broke out of his trance, “Ah yes - tomorrow. See you then.” He touched your arm and flashed another smile as he said his goodbye, a move you were sure was meant to make you swoon. You smiled coyly at him, playing your part before shutting the door.

Now what the hell am I going to wear?

—

Dajmita was already preening herself in your shared refresher, fastening crystal studded cuffs to her lekku when you returned home.

“Wow you look kriffing great - like some perv’s Twi’lek fantasy. Is that what you’re wearing to the gala? I’m gonna look like bantha shit next to you.”

“Okay - first of all -“ Dajmita began, “Thank you. I’m hoping this dress will get me a one night stay on the surface if you catch my drift.” Your roommate had a steady rotation of men she liked to sample and she was always looking for new … experiences. “Secondly - does that mean you’re going too?”  she realized in excitement.

“Yeah - one of my clients asked me to come as his date -“

“OOOOooOOOOh! Which one?”

“Ugh Ban Pollalarm - don’t get any ideas. I’m only there to eat free food and network. Plus he’s definitely using me. Remember Endel?“ you asked, kicking off your shoes.

“The one who asked you to be exclusive and you said no?”

“Yeah. Well Ban knows all about that and I’m sure he just wants to one-up him. They’re old academy rivals or something,” You said over your shoulder as you make your way to your room. Dajmita was still in the ‘fresher, adjusting the front of her low-cut dress to accentuate her cleavage when she asked, “What was wrong with Endel? He was really cute. And his family is kriffing rich.”

“You know how I feel about military guys. They just don’t do it for me,” you called from your room. It’d been a long time since you’d looked in this part of your closet  but you hoped to find some forgotten treasure. Just as you began to get discouraged, you recognized a clump of fabric in a dark corner. It must have fallen off of the hanger.

“Aha!” It was wrinkly but you felt triumphant, holding the gown up as you emerged from your room. You rummaged through the hallway closet for a steamer, forgotten miscellanies raining down from the top shelf in a cacophony of crashing sounds as you pawed above your eye line.

“You know, for such a petite woman - you make an awful lot of noise,” Dajmita chided as she made her way towards you, picking up your mess and replacing the objects on the top shelf. “I see you found something to wear.”

“I can’t see up there - sorry I’m not a statuesque goddess such as yourself,” You say with feigned deference. “Speaking of which, is your model friend Zurla coming too?” you asked hopefully, turning on the steamer.

“Yes! We’re all going to this exclusive pre-gala dinner party...” she trailed off realizing you wouldn’t be able to come with her group. “Sorry - my date had to call in a lot of favors to get these invites and I didn’t think you were going.”

You’re disappointed that you’d have to arrive with Ban alone, but you weren’t offended. “No worries - I’ll see you at the gala and we can hang out there. I know you don’t want to miss my terrible drunk dancing.”

Dajmita snorted, “Absolutely not.”

—

You had only been to the Alisandre Hotel a few times to meet with potential clients. You’d always admired its architecture, but tonight it was an especially glorious vision. Its grand facade was lit by spotlights shining upwards against its columns, highlighting the Imperial banners draped from above. A who’s-who of Coruscanti elite ascended the stairs in elegant gowns and ceremonial garb representing the diversity of planets across the Empire. The most famous attendees were followed closely by the press corp, who were vying to snap glamorous holos for their publications.

Inside, an alien band played swanky music as guests milled about, sampling delicacies passed by waitdroids, sipping fine wines and alcohols. It was glamorous.

“What do you want to drink?” Ban asked distractedly, scanning the grand room (for Endel you guessed). He had opted to wear his dress uniform which you originally thought to be a status play, but judging by the other uniforms dotted throughout the room, it seemed to be an appropriate choice for military attendees.

“An Alderaanian wine would be great,” you selected something you hoped would be difficult to find. Ban nodded, barely acknowledging your request as he left your side. You scanned the room for any sign of Dajmita and her group. There weren’t a lot of non-humans at these elite events, so you thought it shouldn’t be hard to spot her. Your eyes darted methodically from person to person until you spotted someone unexpected.

—

Eli Vanto had been dreading the Imperial Gala for days. He certainly didn’t feel welcome among the elite, Core World guests, who somehow knew he was below their station - a Wild Space yokel. His alien companion certainly didn’t elevate his status.

Thrawn. It’s not that Eli resented him for dragging him here...Well maybe there was some resentment. He was a political idiot, so he wasn’t even sure what Thrwan was hoping to get out of the experience.

“Eli Vanto?” Startled, Eli whipped around to see you, his eyes widening in recognition, “[Y/N]?”

“Oh my god what are you doing here?” you embraced him, a decidedly out-of-place gesture amongst the polite company.

“I was just about to ask the same thing -“ he stopped, realizing his manners. “Ah, [Y/N], this is Admiral Thrawn. I’m ah - his translator?” He wasn’t sure how to explain.

For the first time, you noticed Eli’s companion and you’re taken aback by his striking features. Your heart began to beat a little faster and you felt heat rising to your cheeks as you realized how attracted you were to him. His facial ridges and blue skin immediately marked him as alien, which was what surprised you the most - you had never been with a non-human before. And what’s more - his uniform marked him as serviceman of the Imperial Navy. Why were you so drawn to him?

Eli, misreading your awkward silence quickly added, “He’s Chiss ... if you hadn’t figured that out already. Turns out they’re real.”

“Oh!” you snapped back to reality - you were too distracted and had not made the connection. Thrawn raised an eyebrow, “I take it you’ve also heard Lieutenant Commander Vanto’s stories of my people?”

“Eli’s stories?” you asked incredulously, but you were cut off.

“There you are!” Ban approached, handing you a drink. “It took forever to find a droid carrying Alderaanian wine and when I came back you were gone.” He suddenly noticed Thrawn and Eli, “Who are these guys?”

You opened your mouth to speak but before you could make the introductions, Ban finally spotted Endel behind the duo and called out to him. You looked back at Eli apologetically and mouthed “I’ll be back” as you’re pulled away.

I kriffing knew it. Ban had managed to snake his arm around your waist just in time to greet his friend. You gave Endel a polite smile, “It’s nice to see you again.” He was clearly caught off guard by your presence, “It’s good to see you too.” He gave you once-over, “You look...stunning,” he managed to stammer out.

Ban could barely hide his satisfaction. He feigned surprise, “Oh I didn’t realize you two knew each other.” It took all you had not to roll your eyes. Where the hell is Dajmita?

—

“I’m pleased you’ve begun to relax, Lieutenant Commander. I was under the impression people from your home planet, Lysatra, were a rarity in Coruscant.” Eli shot Thrawn a look. “How did you know she was from Lysatra?” Eli knew he shouldn’t be surprised by Thrawn’s observational skill by now, but he still appreciated being coached through the logic.

“You said yourself that you believed to have no personal connections on Coruscant. Your demonstrated familiarity with a civilian could only mean your relationship was formed on Lysatra. My suspicions were confirmed when she rejected my supposition that you were the originator of Chiss legend.“

“That’s a pretty big conclusion you’ve jumped to. You’re right, but she could have been from any other Wild Space world,” Eli pointed out.

“Are you close to anyone from other Wild Space worlds?” Thrawn countered.

“...No. Fine I see your point,” Eli resigned. “Well I’m glad she’s here. I didn’t expect to know anyone at this party.”

Thrawn watched you from across the ballroom. He noticed the rust color of your gown complemented your tan skin, its bias cut loosely hugging your petite frame and accentuating your rear. He could see your date’s hand on the small of your back, your body rigid. “I take it you aren’t acquainted with her...companion,” He asked, turning back to Eli.

“No, but he seems like a real jerk. I can’t imagine what she’s doing with him.”

Thrawn turned his attention back to you. He watched as you flagged down another group of three: a green skinned Twi’lek woman, a man, and a tall slender blonde with an ample bust.

“And what was your relationship with her?”

Eli blushed, “Well she used to babysit me sometimes when our parents would go out. I - I had a small crush on her when I was 9...”

“But that’s all.” he added quickly.

“I see.” Thrawn’s attention was still focused over Eli’s shoulder. He watched the blonde and your date leave together while you were in the refresher. “Interesting,” he said, “I believe your friend will be returning to us shortly.”

—

From the second floor balcony, you could see Ban leading Zurla to a more intimate area of the ballroom. Dajmita had already made her way to the dance floor, doing her best to seduce her date. Finally - you’re free to do what you wanted.

You easily found Eli again and made your way towards him, awkwardly juggling three glasses. “You two need to loosen up!” You handed each of them a drink.

“You’re not angry,” Thrawn observed, taking the wine from your hand.

“Angry?” you were confused.

“I observed your date leaving with another woman,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Oh! I planned that,” you take a sip of the rich blue liquid, “I’m really here to eat free food and find new clients. Zurla is my roommate’s friend and she’s exactly his type. I figured he was gross enough to ditch me when he met her. I made sure she’d be here.”

Thrawn seemed impressed. At least, that’s what you thought from the small change of his expression. “Clients?” he asked.

“I’m a portrait artist. These - “ you gestured at the crowd around you, “are the types of people who can afford my services.”

Thrawn’s red eyes widened slightly with interest. You found yourself surprised to be secretly pleased with his his approval. “Are your works on display? I’d be interested in studying them...with your guidance.” Did he add that suggestively? you wondered, your heart beginning to race. Or was it just wishful thinking? You did your best to remain calm.

“Most of my professional works are hung in private homes, but you’re welcome to view my personal projects at my studio after hours. Will you still be on Coruscant tomorrow?” You thought about it briefly, feeling your sex begin to throb as you wondered if he’d maintain his reserved dignity while penetrating you. It’d been awhile since your last sexual encounter. Just go for it. Who cares that he’s in the Imperial Navy? This is your opportunity for some non-committal fun. You gather your courage.

Smiling coyly, you added, “...I’d also be happy to take you there tonight if you’d like. I’m sure you’ll be busy at tomorrow evening’s celebrations.” You hoped you were being obvious enough. Eli shifted uncomfortably realizing you had forgotten his presence.

Thrawn considered your invitation, noticing the gentle outline of your hardening nipples through the thin crepe fabric of your dress. He had actively avoided temptations of the flesh and of the heart in pursuit of his larger military goals, however he was finding it difficult denying his physical needs tonight. After all, he wanted an opportunity to study the current art on Coruscant, he reasoned with himself, knowing all too well this was only a feeble excuse. And perhaps he misunderstood your intentions. He admitted he still knew very little of human customs outside of military situations. Against his better judgement, he agreed to accompany you.

Eli cleared his throat softly. Thrawn turned to acknowledge him, his stoicism did not betray his sinful thoughts. “Lieutenant Commander Vanto, would you care to join us?” You frowned slightly.

Eli, knowing better than to cock-block the admiral, excused himself for the evening. “I’m actually really tired,” he yawned. “I’m going back to my quarters to get a good night’s sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You shot him a look of gratitude, “Well it was really good seeing you again, Eli. Let’s catch up soon. Lunch tomorrow?” Eli relaxed, remembering he was glad to have a friend on Coruscant. “Yeah. Can you transmit the time and location to me?”

“Will do. Good night.”

—

The studio lights flickered on as you let yourself in, Thrawn following close behind. He marveled at the canvases of works-in-progress lining the perimeter of the walls.

“Those are portrait commissions,” you called over your shoulder as you opened and closed wide, shallow drawers in search of other work. “I’ll dig up some personal stuff.”

Thrawn examined the portraits, all in various stages of completion. You selected a few pieces from the drawers and laid them out on your large work table. Realizing his focus on your unfinished work was still unbroken, you joined him at the northern wall.

“Very interesting,” he mumbled, his hand resting on his chin in thought.

You break the silence, “It’s not often I meet members of the military who are interested in art.”

“It’s a shame…The Empire would benefit greatly if our military leaders could see the connection between art and war,” he mused, eyes still transfixed on the canvas before him.

“I suppose it only makes sense to explore all facets of an opponent’s culture in order to understand their tactics,” you responded off-handedly.

Thrawn’s eyes softened as he turned to you, surprised at your understanding. “Yes...exactly,” He breathed. You returned his gaze, but your expression was incredulous, “So you study art in order to defeat your enemies?” He nodded and you frowned. “I can’t say I love that usage...I’m somewhat of a pacifist,” you admitted reluctantly.

He turned back toward the painting, “War is an inevitability. There are great evils just beyond the reach of this Empire. By studying even a limited selection of a culture’s art, I am able to determine the most effective tactics and minimize...unnecessary death.”

“I’m not so sure you can fully draw reliable conclusions from a culture’s art without understanding the context of their history and of the artist’s own political positions,” you countered. You did not expect this evening to include debate and thoughtful discussion. This topic was intriguing, but perhaps there would be another time to delve into such conversations when your sex wasn’t throbbing.

Changing the subject, you offered to look at the pieces you’ve laid out on the table, “Would you like to see my other work?”

“Yes. I suppose that would be an effective use of our time,” he agreed. One of the straps from your gown slipped from your shoulder and he reached out gently to reposition it, accidentally brushing his hand against your skin. You gasped involuntarily and glanced sideways at him. He looked away, busying himself with your art.

“I also have holos of some bigger pieces,” you offered, switching on the device to display the paintings.

He didn’t speak for some time as you let him peruse your catalogue. Thrawn saw a lock of hair fall out of place, framing your face. Out of the side of his eye he was able to appreciate the fullness of your lips and the soft slopes of your décolletage, the neckline of your gown plunging perilously low in between your shallow breasts. His mind began to wonder about how soft the skin of your inner thighs must be... He flicked his attention back to the holos just as you turned to look at his face. You could see his jaw clenched tightly in concentration. He flipped thoughtfully through a few more pieces.

Finally he stopped, “How big is this one? Is it for sale?” Your mouth opened wordlessly, more than a little surprised. You certainly didn’t expect to sell any art tonight.

“Ah- uhm - yes. It’s 1.5 by 2 meters - You really don’t have to.”

“My desire for your work is not born out of pity, if that is your concern,” he said, reading your mind. “I did not bring credits with me today but I can pay when you come to install it.”

“Um..yes. O-ok,” You managed. He turned off the holo, suddenly eager to leave. “I will transmit delivery instructions to you tomorrow,” he said, making his way toward the door, “Good night.”

He left and you stood, dumbstruck in the middle of your studio.

—

Outwardly, Thrawn appeared in full control of himself, his steps moving at a rhythm only slightly faster than his usual pace. Internally, his characteristically organized mind was in chaos.

He knew he shouldn’t have come with you. It was foolish to test his resolve, his commitment to abstinence - to his ambitions. Yet he was almost unable to wait for his apartment front door to shut before desperately undoing his pants, freeing his engorged cock already wet with precum.

He closed his eyes and bit back a moan as he pumped his member, remembering your gown’s strap slipping from your shoulder. Your name stammered from his lips as he desperately wished he had ripped it from your body instead of returning it to its proper place. In his mind’s eye, he saw you bent over the table with your skirt bunched up over your ass, begging to be dominated. And he imagined the tightness of your cunt as he forced his sex into your entry, this final image taking hold of his entire body as he seized pleasurably, spilling his seed, allowing himself to fall forward, a pathetic crumpled mess of limbs and semen.

Part 2 ->

---

A/N - Well if you made it this far - thank you! This is my first time writing anything resembling smut, so hopefully that wasn’t too cringey. The whole draft is finished so...I’ll definitely post the whole thing pretty quickly. 

[yeonbinfics]

flickers

flickers by sharpa (ao3)

Rating: Explicit 

Word Count: 24248

Summary: 

An unknown anomaly is threatening the fabric of the multiverse and agents Yeonjun and Soobin are tasked with tracking it down. Which would be fine if Yeonjun and Soobin hadn't broken up one year, five months, and seventeen days ago.

Not that Yeonjun is counting or anything.

Review: 

If I am being completely honest, I have been sitting on this review for a few weeks because every time i come back to it. I just sit in front of the screen staring off into space. And please I mean that in the best way possible. If I shorten my review for it I would only be able to say one thing, just heart wrenching. 

That is it. It’s heart wrenching. 

I am ashamed that I almost skipped over this fic because of the tags. It contains character death which I tend to avoid like the plague. 

And one tag that definitely threw me off was “multiverse” and I was a little confused as to what that would entail as I mostly see it used for marvel. But I decided to read anyway and man, it was worth the read. 

Wow I cannot rave about this fic enough. I will recommend this fic to anyone, even non moas. I will recommend this at my wedding, my 50th birthday, to the nurses at my nursing home in the future. Just WOW. 

The fic starts right away with pining yeonjun which is my fucking kink yes, that was enough to pull me in. The gist of it is that there is some weird things going on in a different universe. They don’t know which one it is but they know that it involves yeonjun and soobin in which ever universe it may be. And it is up to them to hop into different universes to find where the problem is. 

And that's all fine except we remember that they are exes. And Yeonjun is still very much in love with Soobin. And Yeonjun is under the impression that Soobin hates him. Its so angsty and it was enough to have me kicking in the air out of excitement. 

They hop into various universe’s and Yeonjun soon realizes that him and Soobin are romantically together in all of them. And its so crushing to see Yeonjun hoping it was like that for him and his Soobin in his universe. God the way the writer portrays the yearning through Yeonjun, I love that. 

There’s one scene where they are in a different universe and decided to split up to take a look around. Yeonjun ends up running into Soobin. But it’s not his Soobin. 

He opens his mouth, not sure what’s going to come out, and blurts: “I just wanted to see you.”

Soobin’s harried expression smoothes out into something tender and affectionate and oh, once upon a time his own Soobin used to look at him just like this. Like he was special. Like he was cherished, wanted, loved.

The knife inside of him cuts deeper than it’s ever gone before—right to bone.

I had to put my phone down and just stop for a second after that line. 

And when I continued reading, I quickly realized that each new universe they explore is more heart breaking than the last. Until its a whole mess of emotions and suddenly Soobin and Yeonjun are both hurting and having sex. 

I’m not going to write what happens at the end but if anyone is hesitant to read because of the character death tag. It is only temporary? I don’t want to spoil too much but rest assured, the main Soobin and Yeonjun do not die. 

Please leave kudos and comments on the original work.