#holy shit i got with such a toxic team tonight | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yslkook · 4 years

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#deep dive (11)

#corporate masterlist summary: you receive some surprising news at work and you and jungkook go on your first mini-trip together in tokyo. word count: 11.2k warnings: cursing, alcohol, smut, a fight, discussions of mental health smut warnings- handjob, blowjob, fingering, guided masturbation, penetrative sex, overstimulation, a lil crying, excessive use of pet names lol a/n: another chapter that got away from me... our couple is moving along ladies!! as always ty @cutechim for ur inspiring enthusiasm!!

Surprisingly, after your outburst at work, you hadn’t been reprimanded at all. Despite being nervous to show your face to your boss and your coworkers, there was apparently no need to be nervous.

Because your boss was out on “leave”. Which, as Seokjin and Namjoon had informed you, was really just a way for the senior leaders to tell your boss and his boss to get their shit together.

Much more aggressively, of course.

You’re surprised to see your boss’s office empty and his boss’s office empty as well. And then guilt begins to seep into your bones- had you gotten them fired? It was hard enough to land a job these days, and had you done that to them?

Jungkook catches your forlorn gaze and squeezes your hand subtly as he walks with you to your cubicle. Your side of the floor is relatively quiet today, as many people were out of the office or working from home.

He sits with you in the chair in your cubicle and pulls his laptop out to do some work on this breezy morning. You quite like these impromptu working sessions with him- even if you’re (halfway) in love with him, you both know where to raise the lines of professionalism.

But you hold his hand for a second longer, and he squeezes once more.

“What if I got them fired,” You whisper, careful to keep your voice low.

“Even if they did get fired, they deserve it. For creating a toxic workplace environment,” Jungkook says, so full of conviction that you almost believe it.

“Okay,” You say uncertainly, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” He murmurs, giving you a sweet, bunny smile, “I’m sure.”

You nod, sighing heavily. “I’ll book a conference room, can you ping Sana and let her know we have to finish those deliverables for the workshop in August? So Namjoon can get his eyes on it…”

“Can’t believe it’s already May,” Jungkook mumbles, shaking his head, “Fucking crazy.”

“I know, right?”

You pack up your laptop and your notebook in your bag and gesture for Jungkook to follow you to the conference room. He walks behind you, wanting to catch a glimpse of the way your dark green pencil skirt hugs your hips and your ass.

Nice.

Midway through your working meeting with Sana and Jungkook, you receive a ping from Hae-Ri herself. Jungkook raises an eyebrow at you when you stop speaking mid-sentence, your eyebrows furrowed in perplexity.

“Uh, I gotta step out for a few minutes. Can you two finish this off in the meantime?” You ask, pulling your green blazer on shoving your laptop in your bag.

“Yeah, I think we’re almost done anyway,” Sana says, eyeing you and Jungkook with suspicious eyes. She’s long suspected something was going on with you both. She’s not blind to the not so discreet heart eyes you both send each other, but she assumes you both are keeping whatever it is a secret.

Jungkook sends you a text right away. You tell him Hae-Ri asked to speak with you and that you’ll text him later.

Your heart is in your throat as you walk the two minutes to her corner office with a view but you keep your face as neutral as possible.

She’s already ushering you inside and closing the door behind her, telling you to take a seat.

“Do you want coffee or tea or water?” Hae-Ri asks, pouring herself a large cup of coffee.

“No, I’m okay, thanks,” You say, straightening your back as you try to calm your racing heart.

She sits in her big, fancy leather office chair (it looks like it costs more than the outfit on your skin) and she just looks at you, with her unnerving eyes. You say nothing, only meeting her gaze with the same intensity.

Hae-Ri breaks your impromptu staring contest first with a wide grin.

“So,” She starts.

“So…”

“Do you know why I asked you to come in here?”

You bite your tongue, wanting to ask her “how would I know why you called me in here” but you refrain. “No…”

“Being the head of business development means that I have visibility to everything,” Hae-Ri says matter of factly, “And I’m sure you know that Namjoon and Seokjin sing your praises every chance they can.

“The reason I called you in here is because there’s an opening for a new team that’s gonna be managed under both Hyo-Jin and I. It’ll be a hybrid approach for managing new products, submissions and being part of the business strategy. The position would have a direct line to Hyo-Jin but a dotted line to me. And we think you would be a great fit for it. It’s an associate director level position…”

Associate director? You can’t help your jaw from dropping, that’s three levels up from your current position. It’s a promotion on top of a promotion.

Holy shit. Nobody’s ever recognized you in this way. You swallow a ball of emotion down your throat- of course, you complain about work, about your shitty boss. But never in your wildest dreams, could you have imagined that two of the heads in this area would recognize and recommend you.

“It’s a lot to think about and consider. The position will be posted on the internal career portal in about three weeks to a month. It’ll be a challenge, but I think you’re up to the task. Of course, there is no pressure if you choose not to apply. But talent and leadership should not go unrecognized.”

When you tell Jungkook what Hae-Ri said to you in the safety of your car, he’s far more excited than you are. He kisses your cheeks, your forehead, your lips and you can’t help but laugh at his antics.

“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart,” Jungkook breathes, “About time these people got their shit together-”

“It’s a lot to think about,” You muse, “A promotion of three levels? That hardly ever happens…”

“That just shows how incredibly amazing my hot, sexy, girlfriend is,” Jungkook says, earning himself a swat of his shoulder by your hand, “And it shows how shitty your boss was to let you fly under the radar for this long.”

You give him a small smile. “I have a few weeks to think about it before it gets posted. Hae-Ri said it should be up in mid-June…”

“We gotta celebrate,” Jungkook insists, dropping another kiss to your glossy lips. You laugh, feeling a little giddy along with him.

“It’s not premature?”

“We’re only celebrating the mere possibility.”

“Okay,” You nod, “Let’s go for drinks tonight with our friends? But can we just keep it between us? I don’t want to jinx anything.”

“Yeah, it can be our secret for now,” Jungkook winks, his hoops shaking as he laughs with you, “Stay the night tonight?”

“Maybe, I’ll see if Grandma is okay,” You murmur and Jungkook nods. A squeal (one that you’ll later deny) leaves your lips when Jungkook pulls you into his lap and presses kisses up and down the column of your neck.

“Now lemme show my girl how proud I am of her.”

It’s another night, a warm sticky night in June, where Jungkook stays over your house for the weekend. You don’t like leaving Grandma alone, despite her insistence that you have your own life. Jungkook understands, and it was actually him who had suggested spending the weekend at your place.

Your heart flutters at the thought of him. He had a late Friday meeting and had told you he’d meet you at your house around seven or eight that evening, and had subtly squeezed your hand in your cubicle in goodbye.

That was a few hours ago, and Jungkook had texted you letting you know that he was on his way. He had stopped by to bring flowers, a bottle of wine and some pastries for you and Grandma. They were Grandma’s favorites.

Grandma had insisted on making dinner for you and Jungkook, despite your protests. Your favorite aromas linger in the air and you contemplate having a few bites before Jungkook even arrives. You try to reach for a piece of mandu but Grandma swats your hand away, admonishing you for trying to eat before your boyfriend and guest even arrived.

Boyfriend. What a strange word.

A series of knocks. You eagerly step towards the front door, ignoring Grandma’s not so quiet snicker.

“Hi,” You breathe out, feeling a little flustered. As if you hadn’t just seen him a few hours ago at work.

“Hi, sweet girl,” Jungkook says with a small upturn of his lips and you press a chaste kiss to his lips. It surprises him, how often you kiss him in front of Grandma. Even if they are quick, chaste kisses.

“You gonna invite him in or just stand there and let him get cold?” Grandma says from the dining room, peering over to you both with a hand on her hip.

“Yeah, you gonna let me get cold?” Jungkook asks with a wink and you groan. They always tag team you, but you don’t mind. In fact, you love it. You love that your boyfriend and your only remaining member of your family get along.

You pull him inside and take his bag from him, finally seeing the flowers, bottle of wine and box in his arms.

“What’s all this?” You ask with widened eyes, “You didn’t have to, Jungkook…”

He always brings something when he comes over, and you always say those words to him.

“His parents raised him better than to come to someone’s house empty handed,” Grandma says in approval, making Jungkook’s heart soar. Whenever Grandma gives an inclination that she likes him, it makes him smile. It’s endearing. You rub his cheek with your thumb affectionately and he scrunches his nose at your touch.

“I’ll go put your stuff upstairs,” You murmur, rubbing his back warmly and leaving him with Grandma. Jungkook pulls the sleeves of his sweater to his elbows to help Grandma put the food on the dining table, and your heart constricts at how well he fits with you in your cozy home.

You return to find three glasses of wine filled and a plate already set for you across from Jungkook.

“Food’s so good, Grandma,” Jungkook moans, after nearly inhaling his entire plate. And then some.

“No thanks to your girlfriend,” Grandma snorts and shoots you a teasing smile when you protest loudly.

“Hey! You insisted!”

You pout at both of them when they laugh at your expense, but their laughter makes you smile. Grandma asks Jungkook how work is going, how his family is. You only smile fondly at both of them, taking a backseat from the conversation. It amazes you, how quickly he’s taken to Grandma. You thought it would’ve taken a little more to pull him out of his shell. But he surprises you, as he usually does.

You clear the table and pour another glass of wine for you and Jungkook, who’s turning on your television to browse what movies or shows are available for watching.

You sit next to him after dimming the lights, careful with the two glasses of wine. He’s careful about touching you, not wanting to offend or make you or Grandma uncomfortable.

It’s endearing. You only smile at him, pulling the blankets up to cover you both and lean your head on his shoulder. He tenses up immediately, wanting to reluctantly move away from your touch but you squeeze his forearm in reassurance.

Grandma says nothing as she watches you both, only casting a knowing look to Jungkook.

His cheeks flush at her gaze and he sinks deeper under the blankets, hiding his warm cheeks from Grandma. Grandma only chuckles to herself and you’re oblivious to both of them, eyes focused on the movie.

Grandma had long gone to bed, and you and Jungkook are cuddled under the blankets. Jungkook watches the movie raptly, oblivious to your stolen glances and almost touches. You sigh, wrapping an arm around his bicep and nosing at his neck. You absently push his hair away from his eyes, the pads of your fingers dancing over his scalp. It takes a few moments of you nipping his neck, your lips wet and warm against his skin for him to turn his gaze to you.

“Can I help you?” Jungkook asks, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Yeah,” You breathe, “Let’s go to bed, baby.”

“But the movie,” Jungkook protests, his lips breaking into a wide smile at the furrow of your brow, “I’m only kidding. We can watch the movie in bed after all, right?”

You roll your eyes, shoving his shoulder playfully but he acquiesces.

You get through all of ten minutes of the movie once you settle in between his legs in your bed. Jungkook’s chin is over your shoulder, arms wrapped around your waist loosely. You wonder if he can hear your heart beating right out of your chest. He holds you so easily, as if he was always meant to fit between the spaces of your body.

You’ve changed into your pajamas, just a shirt and some shorts and Jungkook has as well. Into an oversized shirt and his boxers.

Jungkook fully looks like your boyfriend, your baby, and it sends a wave of affection through you. Turning your head and shifting to look at him. His cut jaw calls for your attention and you press your lips there, to his neck and finally to his own lips.

“Can’t believe you’re mine,” You mumble, running your fingers through his dark hair.

“Are you mine?” Jungkook asks, pressing his forehead to yours. A smart comment is on the tip of your tongue, but it disappears from your mind quickly. The way he’s looking at you, as if you hold all of his warmth, makes you curl further into him and drop another kiss to his lips.

“Yes,” You exhale and your cheeks heat up when you pluck the courage to run a hand over his chest. Jungkook finds your shyness endearing- for someone a little rough around the edges, he’s not surprised at your softness.

“Baby,” Jungkook murmurs, the term of affection still making your heart lurch, “You can touch, sweet girl. ‘M all yours.”

You swallow, a little nervously. “Me too,” You say softly, “Want you to touch me, baby.” You lean your head on his shoulder, tugging him down to you and meet his lips eagerly. You deepen the kiss quickly, a moan slipping out of your mouth without realizing. You could kiss him for hours, the soft feel of his smooth lips against yours is addicting. Flurries of butterflies erupt in your belly when he nips your bottom lip playfully and you moan again, the sound shooting straight through Jungkook.

He pulls away for a breath, looking at you with hooded eyes. You’re about to dip your head for another kiss but he ducks his head to plaster his lips to your neck. The wetness of his tongue slides along the column of your neck, before he gently kisses you behind your ear. If you were standing, your knees would have buckled surely. Jungkook cups your face gently, rubbing your cheek as he buries his face in your neck.

“Jungkook,” You breathe and he coaxes an unexpected moan from your throat when he sucks and soothes your collarbones.

Jungkook pulls away with reddened lips and you immediately push your lips to his without missing a breath. He’s itching to let his hands roam, to squeeze and hike your shirt up around your waist before peeling it off altogether.

You run your tongue over his bottom lip teasingly and press your chest flat against his. He’s been so patient with you, taking it as slow as you had needed to. Jungkook has been following your lead this whole time, not wanting to overwhelm you. But you’ve been ready for him to take the lead and teach you. The last thing he wants to do is make you feel pressured.

And honestly, all Jungkook wants to do is make you feel good. And learn what you like and don’t like. He doesn’t think you even know what you like. He has a feeling of a few things that he is excited to explore with you.

Jungkook is not surprised when you take his hand and pull it under your shirt. The pads of his fingertips, brush lightly against your sides. You gasp at the sudden spark of his hands against your skin and impatiently slide up against him for more friction.

His hands are so big, so much bigger than your own, dotted in tattoos. You can hardly believe these are the hands that are squeezing you so gently and adoringly. But you’re impatient, and you pull your sleep shirt up and off of your frame to toss it to the side.

You want more. You want more of him and you don’t want slow. You want soft, but you’re ready for something a little more.

“My pretty girl,” Jungkook purrs, thumbs flitting over your tits, “Does my pretty girl want somethin’?”

“Just want you,” You mumble.

“Tell me,” Jungkook murmurs, fingers tracing over your tattoos with a featherlight touch.

“Want you to touch me,” You nearly whine, and he grins in satisfaction. One of these days, he’ll teach you what it means to beg. But not today. He palms your breasts, moaning into your neck just at the feel of your soft flesh in his hands.

The sight of his tattooed hands on yours, his tattooed arms around you sends another bolt of arousal down your spine.

Your eyes close of their own volition when he pinches your nipple, a silent sound caught in your throat. And then his pliant mouth replaces his fingers, warm breath fanning over your chest. Arousal shoots down your spine and you squeeze your legs together without realizing it.

It’s clear that he knows what he’s doing- not that you had any doubt in your mind about that. He’s told you that he’s had two serious girlfriends in college and the beginning of graduate school. You’re certain there were hookups in between and after.

Your hips buck up, grinding into the air as you squirm in his arms. “Stay still,” Jungkook murmurs. You can’t help it, not really. But you try to listen anyway. “Open your eyes,” He coaxes you.

When you meet his eyes, they’re slick with desire and adoration. For you.

“Good girl,” He says, his voice low. The low timber of his voice sends a shudder through you and your eyes widen. Jungkook’s lips twist into a smirk.

“Will you let me make you feel good?” Jungkook asks, his hand ghosting over your thighs. Your hips jump at the sensation and he squeezes your waist. You nod eagerly. “Tell me, baby,” He says, his lips leaving trails of kisses down your chest and your belly.

“Yes,” You gasp, “Jungkook, please-”

He gives you a bright, bunny smile and your heart skips a beat. Adjusting you so that your back is flat against his chest, he kisses the back of your neck. His touch is constant on you- your belly, your waist, your breasts.

Jungkook palms your clothed pussy and you gasp sharply at the buzzing sensation suddenly filling your head. You reach behind him to wrap your arm around his head and tug on his hair impatiently as he rubs against you with quicker paces.

You wonder if he even knows what he’s doing to you. From the wetness staining your panties, he just might find out soon enough.

“Show me how you touch yourself, baby,” Jungkook murmurs, his voice husky in your ear. You’re certain cotton is filling his brain, because there’s no way he just asked you that.

“What?” You ask, and Jungkook chuckles at your speechlessness.

“Didn’t hear me?” Jungkook says, “Show me how you touch yourself.”

You’re stunned into submission, peering up at him with hazy eyes. Keeping your eyes on him, you shrug out of your shorts and your underwear in one fell swoop, leaving you completely bare for his gaze. Goosebumps rise on your skin when he says nothing, only drinking you in with wide, thirsty eyes.

Jungkook swallows. “Fuck.”

“What?” You ask, beginning to panic at his lack of a reaction. You close your legs instinctively but he pushes your knees apart, giving him a view of your glistening folds.

“Had such a big crush on you in school,” Jungkook mutters, “You didn’t even know, baby. And now I get to see you like this. Because you gave us a chance.

“And you’re so fuckin’ pretty,” Jungkook says, tugging your jaw to him and dropping a deep kiss to your lips.

“Thought you wanted a show,” You quirk the corner of your lips up and he chuckles against your neck. His hands tighten around your waist, pulling you closer to him and you feel something hard poking at your ass.

It makes your stomach flip. You bring your knees up to your chest and spread your legs wider. Jungkook’s breaths are staggered in your ear and he squeezes your tits as your hands slide down your chest to your pussy. You rub your clit, your hips jolting immediately and Jungkook holds you steady.

You tease yourself, your touch barely there as your clit throbs. “Look at you, pretty girl,” Jungkook murmurs. You circle your clit with your middle finger, gathering your wetness before Jungkook seizes your hand.

It appears he’s growing impatient, too.

His much longer fingers replace yours, the touch sending another bolt of electricity through you. You imagine what Jungkook’s fingers feel like against you almost all the time, but reality is so much better than your daydreams. He rubs you lazily and you whine, wanting him to go faster. You put your hand over his as he circles your clit.

You don’t even realize that you’re moaning and squirming, pushing back against his hard cock purposefully. “Be quiet, baby,” Jungkook whispers, nipping your earlobe, “Grandma’s only a few doors down…”

Jungkook makes you feel like you’re in your own world, thoughts filled with nothing but sinful honey and him. You whimper as he rubs your clit faster and faster, your thighs beginning to close to lock his fingers in place.

“Jungkook,” You moan, cheeks heating up at the pitchiness of your voice. Jungkook hums in response, only pressing his lips to your neck and his other hand to your chest. You push back against him harshly, back pressed into his chest as if you’re trying to mold yourself into him.

You writhe in his hold, not used to the feeling of his long, thick fingers rubbing your folds. Jungkook pushes a finger into your throbbing pussy once you’re slick and you shiver, a broken sort of noise escaping your lips. Your moans are loud, and Jungkook is pleased but he presses his lips to yours to swallow your soft noises.

Your grip around his wrist is tight, as if to tether yourself to him. “Hey,” Jungkook says softly, nipping at your earlobe again, “Look, baby. Watch me, look how your pussy was made for me. You’re so wet, sweet girl…”

Glancing down to where his fingers were gliding in and out of your wetness easily, you let out another choked noise. He slips another finger into your pussy and you let out a shuddering gasp of his name, your nails digging into his wrist. The lewd sounds of his fingers in your wetness fills your bedroom and if you weren’t so consumed by thoughts of him, you might be almost embarrassed.

“Kook,” You mumble, your hips grinding into his touch to feel as much of him as you can, “Kook, feels so good…” You snake a hand behind you to sink into his dark hair and tug lightly, pulling a soft groan from him.

“Good girl,” Jungkook murmurs, leaving hot, open mouthed kisses down the column of your neck, “My good girl, my dream girl-”

Another rush of wetness floods his fingers at his words and he smirks into your sweaty skin. Your ass is pressed up against his hardened cock, but he wants to make you feel good first. He can worry about himself later. He bucks his hips into your ass and you push back at the feel of his clothed cock against you.

Your thighs begin to shake, a coil beginning to snap in your belly. It’s more powerful than it’s ever been- your own fingers had never brought you to the edge like this.

“You’re close, right?” Jungkook nearly slurs, high off of the sound of your noises, “My pretty girl’s gonna cum all over my fingers?”

You tug his hair harder and nod furiously, hips still bucking into his fingers. It only takes a few more rubs of your clit and pumps of his fingers for you to gasp and arch your back off of his chest. Jungkook immediately plasters his lips to yours to silence the sound of you cumming.

He’ll have to hear them fully. He needs to. But not tonight.

You pull away to gasp for air and your chest is heaving, eyes wide at the force of your orgasm from just his fingers alone. “Jungkook,” You mumble, wanting to see him. You turn in his hold, finally facing him and he’s just as lust blown as you.

You give him a lazy smile and wrap your arms around him, nosing at his neck. Before he can say anything to you, you roll your hips into his, meeting his clothed hardness. Jungkook drops his head against the headboard, groaning softly. His hands are planted firmly on your bare hips and you seemingly don’t mind that he’s fully clothed while you’re not.

“Rock with me, baby,” He murmurs, burying his face in your chest. Your legs are on either side of his hips and you comply easily, your breath hitching when he kisses marks soothingly over your breasts.

You wonder if you’re about to have the pleasure of seeing Jungkook cum again- it’s always beautiful, like the rest of him. Your hips feel like home to him, he squeezes and swats your ass gently. You only grin at him, pressing your forehead to his. His eyes nearly close in pleasure but he keeps them open, wanting to see you moving with him. A wet spot forms on his boxers from both of your arousals and he knows he’s about to cum soon-

And you do, too.

“Y’r g’nna make me cum in my pants, like I’m fifteen,” Jungkook pants, eyes straining to stay open to watch you.

“Or like you’re twenty-one and you’re obsessed with your mentor,” You breathe, earning yourself a pinch to your waist, “Kook, ‘m close again…” You never cum this quickly after the first time. Jungkook brings out the best parts of you, it seems.

“Me too, baby,” He grunts into your skin, harshly covering your lips with his own. A spark blooms in your belly, slowly spreading and warming you up from within. It’s much slower and less intense than your first orgasm, but just as delicious. You’re sensitive as he rocks his hips into yours and you whine softly at the feeling.

You move to sit on his thigh and your hands shake for a moment before scratching his chest with your freshly done nails. Then his abs. Then his navel.

“Can I?” You mumble.

“Can you what, baby?” Jungkook asks, amusement still in his eyes. You huff. He’s really going to make you say it.

“Wanna feel you, baby,” You murmur, meeting his eyes, “Wanna feel your cock in my hand-”

“‘M yours, pretty girl,” He replies easily, taking your wrist in his hand. You palm him from outside his boxers and you both groan- you from how big he is, and him from how warm your hand feels against him.

You shyly dip your hand down the waistband of his boxers but he stops you for a second. He wordlessly moves you from his thigh to the bed to slip out of his boxers so that he’s bare to you as well. After all, it’s only fair.

You can’t stop the soft gasp that leaves your lips or the way that your eyes zero in on his leaking cock. He’s so big in your hands and you can’t help but lick your dry, parched lips. Your cheeks are warm and for once, you have nothing to say- no quip, no snarky remark.

You tug on his shirt impatiently- how had you allowed him to be wearing clothes for this long? Pulling his shirt off of him and tossing it to the floor, you allow yourself the luxury of letting your hands roam his honeyed skin. He’s somehow both cut and soft, tight and supple.

Despite the number of times you’ve seen him like this, you can never get used to it. Even if it’s not the first time his cock is hot and heavy in your hands, you can’t help but trace his tattoos with your free hand and feel a little in over your head.

“Kook,” You murmur, curling close into his side and drawing your knees up to your chest, “Baby, teach me.”

Jungkook groans, the sincerity in your voice making his stomach flip. He takes your hand and squeezes before guiding you to the tip of his reddened cock. You experimentally palm his cock, smearing his leaking pre-cum over his cock and he gasps, burying his face in your shoulder.

You stroke him slowly, watching and listening for his breaths. They’re heavy against your skin and he tightens his grip around your waist, trying to melt into you.

“Faster, baby,” Jungkook says, his voice wrecked, “‘m so close-”

You pump him faster in your hands, making sure to be gentle with your grip. Jungkook looks down, marvelling at how big he looks in your hands.

“Am I doing okay, Jungkook?” You whisper, dark eyes wide and unsure. With hooded eyes, he groans and kisses you, and you feel his moans vibrating through your body. He’s so close- he can feel himself starting to come undone, and with another few pumps, he comes all over your hand. Some of his cum splatters on his belly but he pays it no mind, only focusing on regulating his breaths. Without thinking, you lick at the tips of your fingers and swallow the little bit of his cum that landed on your hands.

“I’ll go get a tissue to clean you up,” You whisper, searching for your shirt. When you find it, you stand up on shaky legs, only for him to yank you back towards the bed.

“Jungkook,” You scold lightly, and he presses his face into your belly.

“You believe me when I say you’re my dream girl,” Jungkook murmurs, ignoring your noise of protest. He looks up at you with bright, sparkling eyes. You swallow nervously, unable to handle the sudden bubbling of adoration you hold for this man.

“Put your boxers on, Jeon,” You mumble, pushing yourself off of him. You hear him laugh fondly. He knows you too well, he knows you’re repeating his words in your head. You emerge from the bathroom, looking a little unsure but still determined. Your hands tremble a little as you attempt to clean him up and he covers your hand with his own to guide you. Jungkook watches you flit around the room before standing up and tugging his boxers on.

He stands up and wraps his arms around your waist, his hands dipping under your shirt. Being in his arms immediately calms you down in gentle waves. He’s become such a calming pillar, a welcomed force in your life. You don’t think even your wildest, most romantic dreams could have ever conjured up someone like him.

Maybe he’s your dream boy, too.

Jungkook drops a kiss to your cheek, walking you back to the bed and laying you on top of it. He pulls the covers up over both of you and is half on top of you. You lean in for a kiss, stars shining in your eyes as you look at him. His legs tangle with yours when he meets your lips and pulls you in close.

“Goodnight,” You whisper when you pull away, “I think you’re my dream boy that I didn’t know I was dreamin’ about.”

With that, you turn your head so he doesn’t see how flustered you are. Your cheeks meet the cool material of your pillow and you pretend not to hear his low chuckle. He only squeezes your waist and murmurs a soft ‘goodnight’ to you.

You’d submitted your application for the associate director position that Hae-Ri had recommended you to apply to. You’d already had the first round of interviews, with the person who would be your direct manager and with Hae-Ri herself. And then you had another interview with Hyo-Jin.

You felt at ease and it felt more like a conversation than an actual interview. Which Jungkook and Jin tell you is because you made the smart decision to get to know them both months ago, before you decided you wanted a shift in your career.

But then Hae-Ri dropped the bombshell on you after the series of interviews. To be in the position, she recommended you finish your masters program at the graduate school you dropped out of (or any grad school that had the same degree). She said the company would pay for it and you could do it while you worked.

But still. It left a sour, angry taste in your mouth.

Jungkook knows, somewhere in the back of his mind. That the words that are about to spill out of his mouth are going to upset you. But he says them anyway, because he thinks you need to hear them-

“If Hae-Ri said that she had a spot for you if you went back to school while working for her,” Jungkook says slowly, “Then isn’t it a no brainer? Your boss sucks, you complain about him and you deserve-”

“Back to school?” You scoff, “Everyone’s gonna be so much younger than me-”

“What does that matter? It’s just a year, and you’ll have your masters degree! Yeah, it’ll be hard to do it with work but you can-”

“I don’t wanna go back!” You exclaim (maybe a little childishly), and cross your arms over your chest. Annoyance seeps into you and you try your best not to get irritated at Jungkook. You know there is truth in his words but you don’t want to hear it just yet.

You’re not ready to face school again. You’re not ready to be at the same place that you had found out Appa had passed away. You’re not ready. Or are you?

“Why not! You don’t need to go back right away, Hae-Ri said-”

“I know what she said,” You say sharply, pinching the bridge of your nose with your brows furrowed, “You don’t need to repeat to me what she said, Jungkook.”

“I don’t understand,” Jungkook says flatly.

You start to notice his eyes losing its usual warmth, reminding you of the days when he would look at you so coldly.

You shiver. He instinctively reaches for you and you let him hold you close for a minute.

But the words come tumbling out of you, your cheeks blazing and ears burning, before you can stop them.

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” You mutter and he drops his hand from your waist as if he’s been burned.

Ice crawls through your veins, dousing you in something cold and unforgiving. You’re hurting him (again), and you can’t stop yourself. You can hardly stand yourself.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jungkook whispers, looking a little lost and a little heartbroken.

“It means you wouldn’t understand being too unable to take care of yourself to go to school,” You say, eyes narrow and jaw steeled, “It means everything’s come easy to you, Jungkook- fucking school, this fucking job-”

“That’s not fucking fair,” Jungkook says with a frown, “You’re deflecting and you’re being mean-”

You laugh. Mirthlessly. The hollowness seeping into your eyes makes Jungkook’s skin crawl.

“That’s me, baby. All I’m good at is deflecting and being mean. You haven’t caught on yet?”

“Stop,” Jungkook says firmly, hurt seeping into his voice as he levels his watery gaze at you, “You’re pushing me away. Stop it, baby.”

“Am I wrong?” You sneer, pressing your nails into your biceps. It hurts. You’re hurting him, it’s hurting you and you can’t stop running your mouth. You can’t stop the acid on your tongue or the daggers in your eyes.

You’re reacting this way just from the mere mention of going back to school. Pathetic.

“You have an opportunity to move ahead and you’re being stubborn about it because you don’t want to go back to school? I’m sure there are a lot of fucking hard memories associated with grad school but don’t take that out on me for wanting better for you,” Jungkook says coldly. While his eyes are icy, you still see the shine of unshed tears in them.

“I’m not being stubborn-”

“From all of this, that’s your response? That you’re not being stubborn?” Jungkook struggles not to raise his voice at you, feeling his chest burn with hurt.

“What else do you want me to say, Jungkook?” You throw your hands up in frustration, “I can’t make you understand-”

“I’m not telling you to make me understand,” Jungkook says, “I’m telling you to consider your future and your capabilities, you’re the one who fucking complains about work all the time-”

“Oh, well, sorry that we can’t be everyone’s fucking golden boy at work-”

“If you’re not gonna do anything about it, then don’t fucking complain-”

“Seriously? I can’t complain to my boyfriend now?”

“You’re missing the point, baby,” Jungkook sighs in irritation, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I can’t talk to you right now, not when you refuse to listen, and when you’re being spiteful.”

“W-what? What does that mean?” You say, nearly all of the fire extinguished from your belly at his words. He starts to put his jacket on, unable to look you in the eyes because if he does, he knows he’ll cry.

“W-wait, Jungkook,” You mumble, tugging his hand but he pulls it back as if you’ve burned him again, “Baby-”

“I can’t-” He squeezes his eyes shut, not noticing a few tears leak out. Your heart breaks in front of you- clearly you were too wrapped up in your own spiral of defense to realize how much your words were hurting him. “I don’t wanna be around you right now. Not if you’re gonna hurt me like this.”

“I’m-”

“I know you didn’t mean it, but you said it for a reason,” Jungkook says. His words make you tear up. “We can talk when you figure out why.”

“Jungkook,” You mumble, wanting to touch him but afraid he’ll reject you again, “Wait, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”

He looks at you long and hard, heart cracking a little bit at the sight of your sad eyes. But you did this and you need to figure out why you were so defensive over going back to school. He deserves better than you lashing out at him for the mere mention of it. He knows it and you know it.

Jungkook wants to kiss your tears away, but he’s hurting, too.

You want to ask for a kiss, for a text when he gets home. But you don’t, and he’s almost out of the front door before he turns on his heel and brushes his lips over your hair.

You feel salty tears drop from your eyes with his touch as he leaves you with an unspoken ultimatum.

You end up texting Jungkook an hour after he left your house, just wanting to make sure he got home safely. It takes him ten minutes from when you sent the text for him to respond with a simple ‘yes’ and you’re too nervous to text him anything other than a simple ‘okay’.

You hold your head in your hands and groan to yourself, rubbing your temples.

How could you say the things you said to him so easily, without regard for how it might hurt him? Just because the topic of school always set you off- and it always has for the last five years and change. No matter how much time has gone by, how far you’ve come in therapy… there’s always something.

You bury yourself under your covers and sniffle, finally letting yourself cry. A hole starts to unzip inside your chest and all you want to do is bury yourself in it. Your words to him, to the man who always has treated you with nothing but kindness and smiles, ring heavy in your ears.

He’s too good for you. He’s too good for you- he’s too golden and good for you. You’ll only bring him down, won’t you? With all of this baggage that he didn’t sign up for. There was no reason for you to verbally spit in his face like that.

His cold, hurt eyes are haunting. You can’t believe you put that look on his face. You’ve been on the receiving end of it because of your own actions too many times now.

It makes your heart ache and it makes you cry harder into your pillow. You don’t know how long it is that you lay there, but at some point, Grandma crawls into your bed with you and holds your head in her lap. She rubs your back as you cry and sniffle your heart out.

By the time Grandma gently coaxes you to tell her what happened, your chest hurts and your eyes are puffy and rimmed red. She only sighs and lays with you in silence, until she sighs again in that way that you know she’s going to voice her opinion to you.

“He only wants you to have a future that you deserve, even if that means confronting things you don’t want to confront,” Grandma says wisely, “Even if you don’t want to hear it for him.”

“I know. Shit, I know. I hurt him, I hurt him bad,” You mumble, fresh tears pooling in your eyes at the thought of his big, brown eyes looking at you in that heartbroken way.

Another forlorn sigh. “You can fix it. Just talk to him, sweetheart.”

“I know. I will. I don’t think he wants to talk to me right now. I think I should have a therapy appointment first,” You groan, rubbing your eyes, “I don’t know why the thought of school sets me off so easily. And Kook is the last person… I hate that I hurt him.”

“I think you know why the thought of school sets you off,” Grandma says, giving you a knowing look.

It takes you a few days of self reflection (and actively not spiraling into the very tempting black hole of self loathing) to finally understand your reaction to Jungkook suggesting you go back to school.

It’s not like you haven’t had a similar explosive reaction before- Jin has always tiptoed about it with you. And Grandma has stopped bringing it up because you always shut down when the topic arises.

Perhaps now is a good time to examine why- after all, you’d only hurt your boyfriend’s feelings so much that he can barely stand to speak to you apparently. You both have been speaking normally, sharing chaste kisses when you can but you can tell he’s holding back a little, to give you both the space you need.

It’s only been a few days but you’re so sad without him. Knowing that you hurt him the way you did.

Jungkook feels like he overreacted a bit. He doesn’t want you to figure this out alone- he didn’t mean to just leave. But he couldn’t stand it, he couldn’t stand how… mean you were being. Mostly, he couldn’t stand how he knew you were doing it on purpose, to get him to drop the topic.

He hopes you can come to an understanding with yourself. But he wants you to lean on him when you need to as well.

So when you text him asking if you can come over later that evening, he immediately says yes.

You don’t text Jungkook when you arrive, only knocking at his door. He greets you with surprised eyes and pulls you inside immediately, pulling you into a tight hug right away.

He feels as if it’s been forever since he held you last.

“Hi, honey,” You mumble, feeling tired with longing, “These are for you.”

It’s a bouquet of some of his favorite flowers, his favorite purples and pinks in your hands and he wants to kiss you in gratitude, but he follows your lead.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Jungkook replies and takes your bag after putting the flowers in a vase and takes your hand, leading you to his bedroom. You feel a little nervous, afraid of how much you might have hurt him. Afraid of what he thinks of you now.

But he pulls you into his arms and cradles your face in his hands, the tips of his fingers melting into the warmth of your skin. Your eyes well up with tears for no reason and it stuns you that this man affects you to this degree. Maybe you should be a little more surprised, but you’re not. Not really.

“Hi, baby,” He says quietly and your heart seizes. Jungkook says your name again and pulls you into his chest for another longer hug and you hum into the warmth of his torso. Your hands are hesitant, yearning to touch his arms, his chest, his face. But you have a lot you want to say before any of that so you pull away reluctantly and sit on his bed.

“C’mon, let’s lay,” Jungkook murmurs, pushing his black and grey duvet and squeezing your hand. You feel a little lightheaded but you follow his lead, relaxing in his embrace as he cuddles you from behind. His chin is hooked over your shoulder, arms tight around your waist, lips brushing over your neck. You hold his tattooed forearm, mindlessly drawing lines and circles over his skin.

“I have to say something,” You finally mumble after a few minutes and turn in his arms to face him. His touch is never too far, always around you- always gravitating to you and making you feel warm and safe.

“Okay,” Jungkook says, eyes wider than you’ve possibly ever seen him. You can’t help but want to kiss him, but you hold back. Just until you say what you need to say.

His hands are soothing over your back as he encourages you. So you tell him- you tell him how your last therapy appointment went. You tell him how you’ve reacted this way to anyone who bothered to bring school up to you whether it’s Jin or Grandma. You tell him how the thought of graduate school instantly takes you back to the day you were in class and you received a phone call from the hospital telling you that your father had passed away.

You tell him how sometimes it feels like you’re living in a movie, a never-ending reel of the worst thing to happen in your near 30 years of life. But…

“It doesn’t feel so terrible these days,” You murmur, “It feels like an ache most times. But not as overwhelming as before… I think maybe I didn’t- I didn’t handle my grief in the best way. And it took me this long to realize it.

“You know, I started realizing it when I saw you that first day. In the office. When I was such a bitch to you-”

Jungkook stops the self-deprecating spill of your lips with a chaste kiss.

“You… you’ve changed me in a lot of ways, Jungkook. And I know we haven’t been together all that long,” You whisper, your voice choked and low, “I always want to be better for you, with you-”

You sigh, squeezing your eyes shut as your throat closes up. This is hard for you, to bare your heart out like this. But if there’s anyone you want to be vulnerable for, it’s Jungkook.

“What I’m trying to say is… you’re right. I can’t keep living in the past when I have opportunities to be better and it’ll be hard work to dissect those feelings but… I want to do it. And I’m sorry for what I said, for taking all of that out on you. You didn’t deserve that-”

“I’m sorry, too,” Jungkook murmurs, surprising you, “For telling you that you shouldn’t complain. Of course you should complain. And I want to be the one you complain to. I’m sorry for just… leaving when you were clearly going through something.”

“Jungkook, no,” You shake your head and push his hair back, thumbs gentle over his cheeks, “If you need space from me or for anything… you never need to feel bad or guilty for that.”

“Okay,” He says almost shyly, “I know it must have been hard to talk about this. So, I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah, but… I want to make this work with you more than I’m afraid of facing those memories and fears. And just in general, I mean, I just want to try to be better. And you’re worth it, Koo-”

He holds your face in his hands, eyes drawn to yours- stars meeting stars and you sink into his sheets at the calm, welcoming fire in his gaze. His lips are on yours before you can blink, swallowing any potential noise of protest that might come out of your mouth.

It’s only been a few days but you missed Jungkook, you missed his warm smile, the heat of his hands, the comfort of his broad shoulders and the way he fits against you. His nose is pressed to your neck, large hands instantly floating under your shirt to feel as much of you as he can.

“Koo,” You mumble, pushing lightly at his chest, “Are we okay? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook mumbles, pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth. He tastes a bit like his mango chapstick (his current favorite). He leaves his lips near yours, pressing his cheek to yours as much as he can. You thread your fingers through his hair, dancing along his scalp and he sighs contentedly. “We’re okay and I’m okay. I wanna be here with you while we get through this together. Are you okay?”

You hum in agreement and wrap a leg around his waist, suddenly feeling very, very tired. His shirt is loose in your grip- he can tell how exhausted you are. Because he’s exhausted, too. Jungkook only holds you close under his covers and waits for your breaths to even out before falling asleep, too.

When August comes around, the final workshop for the big submission does, too. The last workshop will take place in Tokyo, which you’re excited about. Because you and Jungkook had decided to go to Tokyo to spend the weekend together. Meaning you’d be leaving on Friday evening to reach Tokyo around 9:30 PM.

You’d made sure Grandma would be okay, insisting that she call you or call Seokjin if anything happened. She scoffs at you but reassures you that she will. She says she’ll be spending most of her time with her close friends in the area, anyway.

You’ve only been dating Jungkook for four or five months now, and teetering on the edge of something more for maybe six months. You wonder if it feels too fast- the speed with which you open your bleeding heart up to him should scare you, but it doesn’t. It feels natural with him.

You’ve both voiced your concerns to each other- fear that you were moving fast and would tire of each other. Or that you were moving too fast to properly assess your feelings.

But both of you agreed that you both felt comfortable and trusted each other enough to speak up if you were uncomfortable. So traveling together for a weekend didn’t feel terribly out of your comfort zone.

You were excited to be with him completely alone, too. Without the stress of work or Taehyung or Grandma to hear you.

Jungkook thinks you both need time alone, too. To see how you’d work as a pair.

You’d taken it upon yourself to plan a few things around Tokyo for the weekend. You wanted to take him to a few places that Appa used to take you to. Maybe it was too much for a fresh relationship, but you want him to see the parts of you that grew up here, too.

You feel incredibly exposed, your heart and soul on display as you hold Jungkook’s hand in yours. Old memories of Appa and of this park spill from your lips fondly and Jungkook only listens with wide, sparkling eyes. Vulnerability drips from your tongue and he swallows it up eagerly.

A light breeze ruffles through his hair and you stop him mid-stride to stand by the lake. The clear water glimmers with the sun, blue and purple petals floating over the water slowly. You lean over the railing and Jungkook encases you with his arms on either side of you, his chest pressed to your back.

“We used to fly kites here,” You say wistfully, “Right over there-”

You point at the other side of the lake where trees shroud the corners with brightly colored leaves. “And always get food from the food carts right outside the park.

“And this is where I was that one time we were here for the workshop. I came here before that happy hour, too.”

Jungkook kisses your cheek and you lean back, letting your head rest over his shoulder as his arms snake around your waist. There’s nobody around, even though it’s relatively early in the morning. The only sounds that can be heard are your own breaths, and the softness of the birds chirping and the wind whistling.

“The happy hour when the night before I hurt your feelings,” You murmur, “I’m sorry I said everything I said to you. And I’m so sorry I was so… mean and bitter to you in the beginning. You didn’t deserve that.”

You turn in his arms, wanting to see him, and cup his cheek. Letting your thumb trace the mole below his lip and over his cheeks.

“I’m scared,” You confess, “I’m scared that I’ll ruin you and break your heart. Because I’m still in pieces sometimes. I like you so much but shouldn’t I seek love from someone else only after I learn to love myself?”

“I can love you as you learn,” Jungkook murmurs, kissing your forehead, “Self-love doesn’t mean you don’t have to accept love from others, baby.”

Another strong breeze tickles your face, caressing Jungkook almost tenderly. “Sometimes I like to pretend like winds like that are Appa and he’s saying hello,” You say sheepishly with a watery laugh, “I think he likes you.

“I’m scared, Jungkook. But I want to be scared with you,” You exhale, tears dotting your eyes and a small smile on your face.

Jungkook pulls you close to his chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly and rubbing your back soothingly. “‘M gonna take care of your heart, princess. You’re always safe with me.”

You immediately burst into tears, because you trust him with your soft heart and you believe him. He only smiles at you, tears rolling down his own cheeks as he thumbs yours away. Jungkook kisses you softly, squeezing your cheeks together and you can taste the saltiness of your tears on your tongue. You deepen the kiss quickly, pouring all of your trust and respect for him onto your lips.

He drinks you up easily and bends his knees a bit to scoop you by your thighs and lift you up, even spinning you a bit as his lips stay pressed to yours. You pull away first with a dazed, watery giggle and push his hair away from his forehead to press a kiss there.

You feel weightless and airy in his arms, your hands steady on his shoulders as he spins with you.

You could love this man- you already love his wide, crinkly-eyed smile, the way the tips of his ears turn pink when you fluster him, the way he is so considerate and charming.

“Jungkook,” You mumble, pushing his hair back again, “Take me back to our hotel, baby.”

Jungkook can’t keep his hands off of you, not with the dim lights of the hotel lobby making your hair shine, not when you stand in front of him in the elevator and lean into him as his arm lazily wraps around your waist to pull you closer. His nose tickles your neck as he drops kisses to your cheek, smiling against your skin when you laugh lightly.

The elevator dings. You both stumble out, holding hands as if you’re love drunk on each other and it’s not 7:30 in the morning.

You push him against the door once you key yourself inside, impatient and hands wandering. A choked noise escapes his lips but it melts into a moan when you press into him.

Jungkook can’t keep his hands off of you, not with the way you breathe his name out as if it’s spicy honey on your tongue. Your legs remain wrapped around his waist as he holds you by your thighs, his hands digging into them. You’re secure in his arms- the fact that he can hold you up so steadily, so easily has you rolling your hips into his and moaning into his mouth unashamedly.

“Shit,” Jungkook groans into your ear, a little desperate, “I want you so bad, baby.”

You hum in agreement, lips pressed to the spot behind his ear. The spot that you had quickly discovered in your relationship that he liked. He stumbles for half a second before dropping you to the large bed and hovering over you.

Jungkook impatiently tugs at your blouse, trying his best to unbutton it as carefully as possible. He curses under his breath, shooting you a playful glare when you giggle at him. He unclasps your bra easily and once you shuck it off to the side, his mouth is warm and wet against your bare chest. Your giggles turn into soft sighs of his name.

Ever since he had realized how much you like the feeling of his mouth on your tits, he couldn’t get enough. You’re so sensitive, almost all the time, and this time is no different.

You always try to push him away but coax him back for more.

Your small hands are ghosting over his chest, glazing over the ridges and dips of his abs and of his pecs. You tug on his shirt and pull it up and over his head, tossing it to the side to join your own clothes. His fingers are heated as you lightly scratch over the trail of hair dipping into his shorts from his navel, but you only tease him and palm him through his clothes.

You’re so impatient. You unbutton his shorts clumsily and gently yank his boxers and his shorts down his thighs, always surprised that he’s almost completely hard already. But it doesn’t take much for him to get hard with you.

You spit into your hands and wrap a hand around his cock, lazily stroking him.

Jungkook’s eyes are wide, breaths staggered at the sight of your freshly painted glossy lilac nails around his cock.

“Koo,” You mumble, “So big, Koo…”

Your face is warm as you meet his darkened, lust blown eyes. Jungkook catches the sliver of determination in your own eyes as you continue to stroke him- you’re determined to have him in your mouth.

The last few times you’ve tried haven’t gone so well- every time you’d tried taking him in your mouth, you’ve always coughed and gagged heavily to the point of your eyes watering and Jungkook felt bad and told you that you didn’t have to blow him.

“You don’t- oh, baby,” Jungkook groans, biting his bottom lip and struggling not to close his eyes when you take him past your lips. You try your best to control your breathing through your nose and alternate between teasing him with kitten licks and stroking him.

You look up at him from your spot on your knees and take him a little deeper, just like he taught you. Your eyes are already watering, vision starting to go blurry but you’re nothing if not determined. Your hands are loose around his strong, muscular thighs and you squeeze.

“Like that, princess,” Jungkook mumbles, watching you with half lidded eyes, trying to stop himself from fucking your mouth.

But maybe you want that.

“More tongue, baby,” Jungkook encourages, “Don’t forget to breathe through your nose.”

You hum around his cock, the sound inadvertently causing him to thrust into your mouth. But you squeeze his thighs in encouragement, wordlessly telling him that he can fuck your mouth if he wants to.

“Mmm, you feel so good,” Jungkook moans, hand cradling your cheek and wiping a stray tear, “Look so pretty like this…”

“You can take me, princess,” Jungkook murmurs, and you take a few more inches of him down your throat without gagging, “Good girl…”

Your belly flips at his praise and you’re eager for more to spill from his pretty, reddened lips. Jungkook curses, his voice low as his thighs tremble with each stroke of your hand and each pull of your mouth. He can’t get enough of you like this, you on your knees with wide, watery eyes just for him. Just for him.

His dream girl.

Jungkook abruptly pushes you away from his cock, saliva trailing from your lips with a pop! You look at him in confusion but he unbuttons your shorts quickly and tugs your panties away, hardly appreciating the new pretty purple panties you’d bought specifically for this trip. You hardly have an opportunity to pout about it, before he sharply kisses you, molding his hips to yours.

He swipes his hand over your pussy, getting a feel for your wetness. You’re so wet already, just from kissing him and from having his cock in your mouth.

Jungkook groans into your neck, biting your skin lightly and you gasp when he slides into your wet warmth easily. Wrapping your legs around his waist and reaching behind him to squeeze his ass, you kiss moans of his name into his heated skin.

“Koo,” You mumble raspily, breath hitching when he stills inside you, “I want you-”

“Gonna take care of you, my dream girl,” Jungkook says softly, cupping your face. Your heart stutters in your chest at the sincerity of his kiss, the stars in his eyes and the adoration in his touch.

Something sweet is at the tip of your tongue but you swallow it down, instead losing yourself in his touch along your hips, your tits, your thighs. Anywhere he can reach you.

Jungkook presses his forehead to yours and rocks into you, again and again and again.

“One more, princess,” Jungkook says hoarsely, thumbing away your stray tears, “Gimme one more-”

You whine but it quickly turns into a broken moan of his name when he gently rolls his hips into yours and rubs your clit with his thumb. Your eyes are glazed over but focused on him, a thin sheen of sweat coated over your soft skin.

“I can’t…” You mumble, wrapping your arm around his shoulders and turning your face to the side. But you both know that you can. Jungkook’s eyes dip to the place where you’re both connected in between your legs and marvels at your puffy pussy. You widen your legs further despite the slight soreness already settling in for him to get a better look. His fingers ghost over your pussy and you shiver at the oversensitivity that his mere touch brings.

“Yes, baby, you can,” Jungkook says softly, “Nice and slow, just like this.”

“O-okay,” You reply, tipping your chin up for a kiss. You feel like jelly, like you’re floating on a cloud, with Jungkook right by your side. When you finally do cum, with soft, sinful murmurs of his voice in your ear, it’s quiet and warm. Leaving you buzzing from head to toe.

You clench around him, the feeling of his cock inside you becoming almost too much to bear. But you don’t want him to pull out, just yet. After all, your baby hasn’t cum and you can feel how hard he is.

“Koo,” You murmur, threading your nails up and down his very defined back, “Baby, you feel so good, make me feel so good…”

You won’t lie, sometimes the dirty talk feels clumsy to you as it comes out of your mouth. You think Jungkook is better at it than you are, and you’ve told him that, too. He only denies it.

You pull him down closer to you, your breath fanning across his cheeks. You squeeze around him despite your own sensitivity and he groans out loud, eyes closed. Jungkook sits you up and brings you into his lap with his cock still inside of you, throbbing with the need to cum.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, fingers gentle against his scalp. You lean forward and nip his earlobe, giggling when his hips stutter. Your mischievous touch dips down his chest, scratching at his navel.

Jungkook abruptly cums into the condom, possibly harder than he ever has, with your gentle, feathery touches and your soft murmurs in his ear. He moans your name and holds you close, arms tight around you and keeping you plastered against his chest as he rides his high out.

“Holy shit,” You breathe with a slow smile. Jungkook hums and lays you on your back, laying with you for a second before pulling out of you and discarding the condom on shaky legs. You’d make a comment about how cute his ass looks, but you’re too tired to. You get cozy under the covers, watching him flit around the room with sleepy eyes.

It’s hardly ten AM and you’re ready to go back to sleep.

You must have drifted off at some point, because Jungkook is wrapped around you, his head on your chest. He’d cleaned you up, too and you drowsily kiss his forehead before slipping back to sleep.

After all, the rest of the weekend is still yours. Work doesn’t begin in Tokyo until Monday.

tags: @koo-zy

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook fluff

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kkusuka · 4 years

Text

Third year songs <3

this is most of the thrid years- not all

from my spotify liked playlist <3

comes with a side of slight character analysis

These are my interpretations of HQ characters and these songs!!

Time-skip spoilers!! (very slight)

---

Karasuno

Daichi Sawamura

Waiting for Superman- Daughtry

She's waiting for Superman

To lift her up

And take her anywhere

Show her love

And climbing through the air

Save her now

Before it's too late tonight

She's waiting for Superman

Daichi seems like he makes a lot of promises, that he just can’t physically keep. He just has so many things going on that he just can’t pay attention to all of them at once. This leads to far too many forgotten dates and even more broken promises. You know its not his fault and he does too, he just can’t leave anyone hanging.

Koushi Sugawara

Island- Florida Georgia Line

We might as well be on an island

Like we're the last two on this Earth

Like we're frozen here in time

Like it's empty here tonight

I feel like suga likes to put himself back into happier times. And that he tries to hold into happy moments as they are happening. He says he is a man of the moment, but when he feels down, he tries to put himself back into the more joyous times.

Asahi Azumane

You say- Lauren Daigle

You say I am loved when I can't feel a thing

You say I am strong when I think I am weak

And you say I am held when I am falling short

And when I don't belong, oh You say I am Yours

And I believe (I)

Oh, I believe (I)

What You say of me (I)

I believe

Asahi is clearly very attached to how people perceive him. So when people shower him with compliments, he attaches onto them. He likes what makes him comfortable and he wants to stay comfortable for as long as he can. Words are important to him, so when he hears something bad it can ruin him for a while. He really does believe what the people he loves say to him.

Kiyoko Shimizu

Mothers daughter- Miley Cyrus

Oh my gosh, she got the power

Oh, look at her, she got the power

So, so, so

…

Must be something in the water

Or that I'm my mother's daughter

The power this woman carries. She’s built her confidence and she’s not letting anyone ruin it for her. I truly believe that her friends all become more confident because she wants everyone around her to feel confident too. Since she doesn't speak all that much she lets her body language do most of the expression.

Nekoma

Tetsurō Kuroo

High school sweethearts- Melanie Martinez

Could you hold me through the night?

Put your lips all over my mine

Salty face when I start cryin'

Could you be my first time?

Eat me up like apple pie

Kuroo definitely takes trust very seriously. I feel he’s also really scared of someone breaking this trust, so he does form it with a lot of people. That saying if he does, he wants it to last forever.

(...Step twoThis is a waste if you can't walk me down the finish line…)

He truly believes in the people he surrounds himself with.

Nobuyuki Kai

Kill the Lights- Set it Off

Now I am cutting ties clean off

And I can breathe at last

So we all stand enthralled by this bland curtain call

And the truth we pursue as we all, we all beg you to

Kai seems like he wasn't really that invested in volleyball, so having all these passionate people around him was a shock. But he really got into third year, and he wants people to feel that passion too. In the back of his mind he feels bad for not feeling it like the rest of the team, but since looking in the past means nothing now, he tries to move on.

Morisuke Yaku

Mama- Mcr

And when we go don't blame us, yeah

We'll let the fires just bathe us, yeah

You made us oh so famous;

We'll never let you go

And when you go don't return to me my love

I mean, he is part of the mom squad. But it's ever so slightly more deep. I’m gonna say it's momma-bird syndrome. He doesn't want people to move on without him, seeing people achieve their dreams is great but he doesn't want you to do it if that means loving him.

Seijoh

Tōru Oikawa

Prom Queen- Beach Bunny

Maybe I should try harder

You should lower your expectations

I'm no quick-curl barbie

I was never cut out for prom queen

I feel like oikawa is constantly feeling like he has to catch up to everyone around him. At some point in Argentina he came to the conclusion that he was good enough and didn't need to rise to anyone's standards of him, but when he got picked for the national team everything came back. He still has all of those feelings from high-school. Never making it to nationals, feeling like he failed his team.

Issei Matsukawa

Bubblegum Bitch- Marina and the diamonds

Got a figure like a pin-up, got a figure like a doll

Don't care if you think I'm dumb, I don't care at all

Candy bear, sweetie pie, wanna be adored

I'm the girl you'd die for

I feel like to earn Mattsun’s trust, he would put you through some ridiculous trial of sorts. I also feel that he is very comfortable with who he is, and he takes no shit about it. But that comes with the fact that he rarely takes fault in things, and that sparks arguments. He’ll use your love for him against you, he’ll be as cold as he can muster, until YOU take fault.

Takahiro Hanamaki

OUT THE ROOF- Chase Atlantic

Yeah, we stay lit

We fuck bitches, pop on pillies, that is it, yeah

Holy moly, holy shit, yeah

Me and all my people are heaven sent, yeah, yup

9this is a strait vibe for Makki)

I feel like Makki drowns his problems out with meaningless activities. Like smoking or one-night stands. He’d rather drown out his problems then have them in his face. Or when he’s forced to face them, he’ll deflect until he has nothing else to deflect. Because when you’re high there nothing to worry about! Why stress about meaningless problems when he can be having fun!

Hajime Iwaizumi

Endlessly- The Cab

Yeah, your friends may think I'm crazy

Cause they can only see

I'm not perfect, but I swear, I'm perfect for you.

And there's no guarantee

That this will be easy.

It's not a miracle you need, believe me.

Yeah, I'm no angel, I'm just me

But I will love you endlessly.

Iwa knows that he can't be there for you all the time. Physically he tries his best, mentally he can help when he can. But you both know that you're perfect for one another. He just can't help but listen to the people around him sometimes. You deserve the world, but he doesn't know if he can give that to you.

Fukurodani

Kōtarō Bokuto

Prima Donna- Andrew Lloyd Webber

Can you bow out when they're shouting your name?

Think of how they all adore you

We’ve all seen how Bokuto gets what he’s praised for literally anything remotely impressive. So that makes him a cannon prima donna! but that also means the lows and really bad mood swings. This song just fits him so well it’s scary.

Shiratorizawa

Wakatoshi Ushijim

More- Usher

If you really want more, scream it out louder,

If you on the floor, bring out the fire,

And light it up, take it up higher,

Gotta push it to the limit, give it more.

This seems kinda obvious, but Ushijima never gives up. Ever since he was a kid, he set a goal for himself and he went beyond what he even set out for. And that comes with a lot of work and training for every new level of volleyball. He’s just going to get better and better until he retires, or is forced to retire.

Eita Semi

strawberries and cigarettes- troye sivan

Long nights, daydreams

Sugar and smoke rings, I've been a fool

But strawberries and cigarettes always taste like you

Headlights, on me

Racing to 60, I've been a fool

But strawberries and cigarettes always taste like

Blue eyes, black jeans

Lighters and candy, I've been a fool

But strawberries and cigarettes always taste like you

I feel like semi always thinks about how Shirabu replaced him on the starting line-up. But he’s mostly gotten over it, but certain things bring him back into that stage of his life. Then the cycle starts all over again. He constantly looks back on the game against Karasuno and thinks about wat would have happened if he was the setter instead.

Reon Ōhira

Remember when- Chris Wallace

So can we push push push rewind,

Go go back in time,

When we were kids sneaking bottles of wine,

Take take take me back, I wanna go back,

Back to what we had! Do you remember when we started this mess,

My heart was beating out of my chest!,

Remember when we stole your dad's car,

Reon gives me the vibe that his days at Shiratorizawa were some of the best of his life. How can they not be? He made the greatest friends of his life there. And I also feel like he looks back on them a bit more than he wants to admit.

Satori Tendō

This Side of Paradise- Coyote theory

Are you lonely?

Passion is crashing as we speak

You seem so lonely

You're the ground my feet won't reach

So if you're lonely

Darling you're glowing

If you're lonely come be lonely with me.

I get the vibe that Tendou attaches himself to whatever makes him feel wanted/safe. (ex. volleyball) he knows it isn't healthy, but he can't help it. This does lead to him completely distancing himself from you over and over because he thinks you’ll leave him.

Hayato Yamagata- House of gold- Twenty one Pilots

I will make you

Queen of everything you see

I'll put you on the map

I'll cure you of disease (Ooh)

And since we know that dreams are dead

And life turns plans up on their head

I will plan to be a bum

So I just might become someone

Even though we don't see a lot of him, I get the feeling he treats people really well. Like he cherishes people a lot more than some of them deserve. As you can see this leads to some unfair relationships and toxic people. He just wants to hold on until a good person comes along.

Nohebi

Suguru Daishō

Mr Loverman - Ricky Montgomery

I'm Mr. Loverman

And I miss my lover, man

I'm Mr. Loverman

Oh, and I miss my lover

I feel like this was way too obvious, but it really is his song. It’s literally cannon, every lyric in this song is what happened with Mika. but in the end he got her back and made his promise to be a better loverman <3.

Kazuma Numai

Nonstop- Drake

Future took the business and ran it for me

I let Ollie take the owl, told him brand it for me

I get two million a pop and that's standard for me

Like I went blind dog, you gotta hand it to me

He looks and acts like a guy who listens to drake. He just seems like a guy who won't stop or give up even when things take a turn. He’ll just keep fighting until nothing’s left.

Kōji Hiroo

At the Wheel- Colorblind

I need something to wake me up

It's never strong enough

I'm just getting colder and starting over

Going numb is just the way I run from

All my problems when I can't solve them

Need to break away

Escape the way I'm feeling

Hate to be fake, but I'm just dealing

This one doesn't really have a true reason, i really just felt like this was his song. Sorry just the vibe.

;)

Inarizaki

Shinsuke Kita

Oh Ms Believer- twenty one pilots

Oh, Ms. Believer, my pretty sleeper

Your twisted mind is like snow on the road

Your shaking shoulders prove that it's colder

Inside your head than the winter of dead

I will tell you I love you

But the muffs on your ears will cater your fears

My nose and feet are running as we start

To travel through snow

Together we go

I feel like kita is unintentionally cold towards the world, like he wants to open up but can't figure out how. But in turn if you can get him to feel “warmer” (get closer to him) he’ll share everything with you, almost oversharing. Just because he can't help it, he’s kept it all in for so long. Sometimes he just needs someone to hold him and make HIM feel better, because he does it for everyone. If you can manage all of this i feel like he’ll keep you with him forever.

Ren Ōmimi

Armor- Landon Austin

I'm not bullet proof when it comes to you

Don't know what to say when you made me the enemy

After the war is won

There's always the next one

I'm not bullet proof when it comes to you

I feel like not a lot of people approach ren because of how intimidating he looks. This has made him weary when people are really enthused to first meet him, because he thinks it’s a joke. After getting over that hurdle i feel like he just isn't an open person so it’ll take a long time to even get to a point where he trusts you. Hence the other wars after the first.

Aran Ojiro-

Never really over- Katy perry

Two years, and just like that, my head still takes me back

Thought it was done, but I guess it's never really over

Oh, we were such a mess, but wasn't it the best?

Thought it was done, but I guess it's never really over

Just because it's over doesn't mean it's really over

And if I think it over, maybe you'll be coming over again

And I'll have to get over you all over again

After all of these years, I really don't think Aran has truly gotten over losing at nationals in third year. And now on the national team he sees Hinata and Kageyama all the time and it takes him back. It makes him re-feel all the emotions he felt after the game. It hurt him to know that he gave his everything and still lost. Like when he’s in bed he puts himself back into that self loathing phase of his life.

Michinari Akagi

Try Hard - 5sos

It's obvious she’s so out of reach

And I'm finding it hard 'cause

She makes me feel, makes me feel

Like I try, like I try, like I'm trying too hard

'Cause I'm not being me

And it’s getting me down that

She makes me think, makes me think

That I try, that I try, that I'm trying too hard again

Akagi gives off boy best friend vibes. But like to EVERYONE, so the person he liked just thought he was making fun of them and he didn't like them back. And i feel like that kinda traumatized him a bit, so when he got a new s/o he tried really really hard to make them special, but the same thing happened.

i may do some with the second and first years, idk this took so long :)

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sweaterkittensahoy · 3 years

Text

We finished Ted Lasso Season 1 tonight. I know everything that happens on the show but not in the order it happens. Which means that Mr. SK has now been spoiled for two major storylines in season two (the actual story of Ted’s father and how if affected him and Beard’s abusive relationship that is waved off in that “it couldn’t happen to him” way that can happen when it’s female on male violence especially [because women are much more likely to use emotional and mental abuse rather than physical]) because I couldn’t hold it in.

I have managed to hold back on the Nate reveal. Which, holy shit, if you thought Nate coming out of nowhere in his fuckery was rushed or badly written? Go back. Rewatch. I am 100% ready to forgive his letter of roasting to the team before their Everton match in season 1. It’s set up as a loving roast of everyone on the team in the way that--especially men--talk to one another to help them lower their stress and build up their readiness to win.

“Well, Gayle, you know what happens with Nate, so you’re biased against him.”

I assure you I have been hissing against men being toxic towards women (he called Rebecca a “shrew” on a knee-jerk reaction to her simply walking into the fucking locker room when she’d been at the curse-breaking in the previous episode) long before Nate the Not-Great showed up on scene with his baby face and supposedly forgivable fuckery.

Do I want to see Nate get his accountability and forgiveness arc? Yes. Because ACCOUNTABILITY is a major part of that. But right now? Nate can eat shit.

To end on a happy note--in true fashion to the show--the fact that Ted 1) knows Trent has a daughter and 2) the daughter is about to turn 3, and 3) made her cookies, is just a missing scene from episode 1.3. Because Trent def mentioned he did a little looking up on Ted and found pics of him and his son on the field at Witchita State and then found, when Ted told some very cute story about Henry, telling a story about his daughter without thinking.

And then Ted said, “Oh, hey, how old is she? What’s her name? She got a favorite cookie--biscuit. Biscuit.”

And Trent realized he was powerless to stay quiet because Ted is so clearly honest and real. So, he says her name and her fave biscuit, and he also says, “And she’ll be three on ---” and he rolls his eyes at himself and thinks he got tricked until that moment in the restaurant when Ted says, “You’re real good at it,” speaking of Trent’s writing and Trent realizes that this guy he thought was just a useless hayseed had actually READ HIS WORK.

Anyway. I HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS.

#ted lasso #i love that rebecca went and told ted the truth well before the man city match #and i love that jamie thought he was getting tricked #and i hate that jamie stole nate's play #and i hate that jamie got abused by his dad by following that play #but i love that jamie ends the season with praise from ted for sharing the ball #because we all know at that point it is 100% real #and also roy picking issac as cap because issac got mad #and higgens quitting #and rebecca having to apologize to him as well #like it's so fucking right #and keeley telling rebecca that it isn't about making ted feel fine it's about proving she's the person keeley thought #and fuck me i could write paragraphs on the relationship between rebecca and sassy

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beauregard-s · 4 years

Text

Verdigris | Bill Denbrough

Pairing: Bill Denbrough x Reader (18 yo in this one)

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: language, mild hate-to-love trope and mentions of cheating and toxic relationship

A/n: ‘The one with Baseball Player!Bill and the song Verdigris by Gus Dapperton’

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He can’t stop watching you.

At the bowling alley on a Friday night. Your arms crossed, a hidden smile on as one of your friends rolls the ball and misses the pins miserably. You probably had a night off, or else you’d be at the arcade trying to tame the thirteen-year-olds that keep fighting over the Pac-Man machine.

Bill can’t stop staring and it’s annoying beyond belief.

“For fuck’s sake, Bill! Are you playing or not?”

He’s forced to drag his attention away from you under Richie’s hiss only to perceive how everybody is staring at him - except for Ben checking on his shoelaces after tripping on them at least twice already. The looks range from Richie’s pissed one, to Mike, Beverly, and Eddie’s confusion, and laying on Stan’s impassivity.

“I just puh-played two rounds ago, Richie, stop m-mah-messing the order,” he complains, yes, but stepping up and grabbing himself a ball is the same as calling his own bullshit.

His move is absent anyway, only hits three pins because he backs off as soon as the ball leaves his fingers, making room for Ben to go next. Standing more in the back so he can turn his head in your lane’s direction again, all the way across the alley.

Only in time to watch you striking for the second time that night.

Only in time to catch how your eyes automatically fly in his direction right after that.

It’s quick, just a few seconds before you turn away again like at school two - or three? - weeks before, when you shouted out loud in a hallway about how you were cheated on, a thing many girls would hide, never talk about and pray for it to never come up. But you didn’t. When Henry Bowers leaned by your locker and probably tried to slide in some smug explanation, you shut the metal door so loud people around turned their heads and others who didn’t hear it from the first time caught on what was happening as soon as you told him to go ‘get his dick wet with Anna Thompson from now on’.

That being said you stormed out, and your eyes met his because he was frozen in a trance not perceiving at first he was blocking your way.

He couldn’t call you a bully, but nor could he call you an angel. You were Bowers’ girlfriend for quite a while, never messed with him but was never smooth either. You always stood neutral about Bowers tormenting him, almost bored, he noticed. Maybe uncomfortable with the situation if he overthought on that?

Never mattered. Bill recognizes he doesn’t know much about you, never got interested in doing so. Never needed to. You are just y/n, Henry Bowers’ blessed girl - because, thinking about it, yes, someone must be somehow holy to endure that one. Y/n, who he thought that barely minded him but still locked eyes and seemed to flash him a very inconspicuous smile that brought him back to Earth and made him move aside to let you walk into your 6th period class.

Y/n that since then started to hover above him like a little bird of prey, keeping those secretly mischievous eyes on him whenever they shared the room. Driving him insanely curious to find out what all of this is about.

“I swear to God, Big Bill!” Richie cries out in frustration, clapping his hands together in a desperate try to get his attention, “it’s your turn again!”

***

“Homealone again?” Stan asks while buckling up on the driver's seat after leaving the alley almost forcefully when the place closed, Mike’s horn breaking the late-night silence as he leaves to take Ben and Bev home.

“Yeah, for the weekend.” Bill sighs, sinking into the seat and smirking. “Why? Wanna throw a p-party?”

Stan snorts in the dark, turning the keys for the headlights to break through the darkness ahead. “Not after the last one,” he starts the car and leaves while Bill recalls the last party they went to. The party where around 1 am everybody started gossiping about how someone entered a room without knocking and...

“Y/n l/n, then?”

Bill moves uncomfortably. Of course, the party where everybody found out you were cheated on before you could do it yourself. Stan Uris really sees everything, knows everything, and perceives everything. And also have the gift of smoothly leading people into the point he wants to get to.

“I don’t think so,” Bill says.

Stan swirls the steering wheel to the left into a quiet street, suffocating another laugh. “So you’re telling me you were not perving on her the whole night.”

“I wasn’t p-puh-p-perving!”

“No!” Stan’s laugh finally comes filled up with irony. “At the bowling alley, at school, whenever she shows up during practices and her great presence disturbs you to the point you miss the pitches… Since she broke up with Bowers, whenever she’s around your mind goes wasted”. Bill grimaces and he goes on. “And judging by tonight, she seems to be at the same place as you are.”

“She’s not at the same p-place as I am because I’m not at any p-place, Stan.” Bill sticks his arm out of the window into the cold breeze, feeling something boiling inside him. That annoyance again. “She’s been teasing me since she broke up with her dear b-boyfriend, it’s all.”

Stan slows down at a crossing, making a snap noise with his tongue. “How convenient, no?” Bill scowls, eyes off the road to look up at his slightly raised brows, and he goes on, “Bowers’ girl gets cheated on and then starts flirting with you, Bill Denbrough. The guy who had his lip split open by those fists more times than we could actually remember.”

“Tell me about it…” Bill’s voice barely comes out as he watches the stores slowly turning into houses with dark windows and faded front porches, trying to smother that burning feeling inside.

“And you’re playing her game,” Stan adds calmly.

Bill snaps his neck towards the driver's seat again but Stan only shows that same impassivity from earlier, eyes solely on the road. “Don’t tell me you’re not, because you are. I saw it tonight. Besides it, we all know you’re that sucker for unbecoming stuff.”

Bill shakes his head, gnawing on his cheek in bitterness as the car stops in front of a two-floor house and Stan turns the keys, sending them into silence and darkness again, turning on his seat to face a skeptical Bill unclasping his seatbelt harshly.

“I am not. I wanna f-find out what game is she p-playing b-but I’m not playing it myself.”

“Okay,” Stan taps onto the wheel, grinning in his disbelief because he knows Bill well enough to know he may sound like he has his foot down when he’s in fact as unsteady as sand. “But she could put you in big shit trouble, you know?”

Bill gets out of the car, leaning into the window as soon as he closes the door, drawing a cockish grin. “Yeah b-but, again, I’m not playing her game, Stan.”

He assured himself that, even though his mind wanders towards you until he goes to sleep and even though you remain there when he wakes up Saturday morning.

He’s not playing your game.

But you’ve been testing his limits, slowly getting under his skin somehow with so little effort. Catching his attention when he doesn’t want to give it to you. You’re guaranteed trouble and he hates how you leave him restless whenever you are out of his sight and trouble his mind whenever you are both sharing space.

But he’s not playing your game.

Yet he still finds himself waiting outside the arcade later at night, at a discreet distance with his hands tucked in his jacket’s pockets to keep them from freezing under the fall weather. Bill watches you leading the last kids outta the place, promising an upset little guy they’ll be open early the next day too and turning the sign hanging on the glass door as soon as they leave to warn everyone the place is finally closed. The sweet way you talked to the kid doesn’t match the troublemaker image he painted of you in his mind throughout the day.

He’s not playing the game, but he’s ending it before he goes insane. Being a chess piece is not on his plans. He doesn’t know where you’re going with all of that so he walks into the store, immediately catching your attention.

You’re checking and closing the cashier when the noise makes you look up from behind the counter only to find the surprisingly-not-so-popular pitcher of the Derry High School’s baseball team standing there in between the flashing machines.

“Hey there, Denbrough,” you say softly, bringing your attention back to the dollar bills. “We’re closed.”

He taps his foot, trying to find the words to say what he wants to say because even though he planned talking to you the whole day, suddenly he feels lost and vulnerable under that nonchalant way of yours.

“I know, I didn’t come to play.” Bill feels proud of how steady he sounds although he’s clenching his hidden fists. He has the slight impression you are not as confused as you seem when you eye him again. This time deeper.

“How can I help you then?”

He thought he had a solid plan, but he doesn’t at all. All he can think of is how did Bowers get you? A straight A’s girl with such sweet talk, pretty face, and bold demeanors.

“You can help me by stopping m-messing around.” There goes his steadiness through the window, every single drop of it when your lips give him a lopsided smile, closing the cashier and pulling a bunch of keys out of a drawer.

“And what do you mean by messing around?” you walk around the counter and passing by him because even though Bill Denbrough is standing in front of you straight out of a dream in his stupid letterman jacket, a robbery wouldn’t be welcome and you gotta lock the doors and close the curtains. That blocks all the light from the outside, sending both of you into a gloom only lightened by the neon lights around.

“I mean all the flirting you’re doing.” His voice deepens a tone. “ I want you to stop it.”

He looks adorably anxious, of course. All fidgety when he’s trying to confront you that way but flinching when you turn on your heels to face him, his hands still in his pockets for what? Hide his nervous manners?

Not that you’re that secure yourself with your sped up heart. You wish you had pockets too so you could hide how you poke a cuticle on your thumb.

“I’m not flirting with you,” you say simply. “I know you’d like that, but-“

“You wish, l/n” he hisses and you know you’ve hit a weak spot. Also not that you didn’t know said weak spot exists.

“I know what you’re doing, and I’m not getting in trouble for it.” Bill steps closer, letting his sweaty hands finally fall to his sides.

“Again, I’m not the one messing around” You see his jaw clench, and go on leaning back against the Donkey Kong machine. “You are.”

Bill snorts and the way he runs his fingers through his auburn hair messing it in frustration makes things to you. Yes, Bill Denbrough in his lettermen jacket is stupid… stupidly hot, even if you hate admitting that.

“I’m n-not-“

“Are you sure?” You defy him, resting your hands on the machine and accidentally hitting the joystick. “So you’re telling me you’ve not been leering me around, casually hanging out with your friends by my locker or… Following my ex-boyfriend around to make sure he’s not coming close to me, Bill?”

Touché.

You never called him ‘Bill’ before, but thought it would match the soft-turn your voice takes and the little ‘got you’ move you just made. Bill thinks it raises a level. He said he didn’t come to play, but it feels like he did and now he’s losing because you know something you shouldn’t.

You know last Tuesday he followed Patrick Hockstetter’s car because he saw them harassing you when you were walking home after school. He watched when they pulled over by the sidewalk, Bowers leaning out through the window and saying something that made you argue with him for a while before you kept walking and they drove out. Bill should’ve turned right and drive home, but he turned left and followed them instead, made sure they went home and not after you.

“I was just trying to m-muh-make sure you were safe,” he reasons but inside he’s recognizing his failure.

Maybe you’ll call him a creeper for that? No, you just bat your eyelashes.

“You really have an unforgiving hero complex.”

“I don’t have a hero complex.”

He does. And maybe an unforgiving crush too because he realizes you’re not the one hovering here. He is. He always thought he never paid attention to you but he did all the time in the deep of his head, dreary by the fact that you ended up with someone like that disgusting jerk.

“A hero complex and a huge neglect towards yourself, apparently” you bicker, the changes in his mind showing briefly in his expression.

“Okay, I m-may be the one m-messing around but you don’t seem like you’re trying to run from it.”

The others have already warned Bill about that, his lack of fear and his broken anti dumbness filter, mainly Beverly, but there he is again. Making dangerous, uncalculated moves, totally improvising his next step to avoid a checkmate from you.

He’s kinda angry, maybe embarrassed, eyes locked on your as he comes closer. You don’t answer because he got a point. From the moment you noticed Bill paying more attention to you after you were publicly free from Henry, you never intended on cutting him off. You fed the fire and now, with his eyes so deep in yours and the smell of his cologne all around you, you let him taste a bit of power to decrease that embarrassment of his.

“Are you trying to imply that I want you too?” You whisper, no need to talk louder with his chest an inch from yours like that.

He likes how beautiful you look like that, face shining in verdigris tones flashing from the next machine, the way it turns you into neon pink and back to the blueish-green. He likes how daring you look even if he’s towering over you, inches taller, little knowing how you’re putting on a fight to keep yourself solid and your thoughts in place. Without much success when he leans in and brushes his chapped lips along your soft ones.

“Again, you wish, l/n.”

The previous moves were yours but in a turn, you’re the one getting the final checkmate when you give in and pull him into a kiss. A greedy and heated kiss that showed how you’ve been craving each other. Bill presses against you as he’s trying to challenge the laws of physics, his tongue licking into your mouth as your hands clutch on his thick jacket, feeling his broad shoulders underneath. His hands cup your face, his thumbs gently tracing up your cheekbones in contrast to how roughly his lips take yours, only for a moment before his arms embrace your waist and he smugly slides a large hand into your jeans’ pockets.

He swore himself he wouldn’t play your game, but he feels like he did and just lost it when he leaves your lips and trails the tip of his nose down your neck, feeling how you softly quiver in his arms, breathing in your perfume. Pulling away before everything goes to waste.

“As I said, totally n-not running away from me,” he mutters, leaving you.

You shake your head slowly, a mazy little smile glued on your lips. “Screw you, Denbrough…” But the words drip out like honey to him as he walks backwards towards the door.

Bill turns the keys still in the lock behind his back, flashing a cocky grin at you as he pushes the door open. He feels defeated, you do too but somehow none of you regret what just happened in the empty arcade. He can see you don't by the way you look at him as he leaves. It’s not just one of those glances anymore.

He feels defeated, but maybe it will be worth it.

“S-see you later, y/n.”

#bill denbrough #bill denbrough x reader #bill denbrough imagine #bill denbrough fic #bill denbrough fanfic #bill denbrough fanfiction #it #it imagine #it fic #it fanfiction #it fanfic #the losers club #the losers club imagine #the losers club fic #the losers club fanfic #the losers club fanfiction #the losers club x reader #beauregardwrites

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kariachi · 6 years

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Okay, so, it’s 4 am and I’ve been watching vids on why Voltron ended up the way it did and queerbaiting and all sorts of stuff like that so I am In The Mood To Bitch, so I’m talking about shit

I have not seen Kevin in the reboot and I love my boy but what I have heard does not encourage me? And I know that a chunk of that is on me but also just, throw me some fucking bones here MOA pls I am weak?

Like, Kevin built his own Omnitrix! Yay! Awesome I love when Kevin’s skill as an engineer is brought into focus as well as the fact that he is actually really fucking brilliant (UAF had this tendency to portray him as the stupid member of the team which was really shit because none of them were the stupid member they were all incredibly bright just about entirely different things and I can go on for days but that is not tonight’s topic, maybe later when I’ve actually slept I can talk about how UAF did everyone dirty on that one). But then apparently some dream drove him to build it? Which wouldn’t be too bad except there’s a common trope where characters who aren’t capable of something having the knowledge implanted into them by a third party via dreams and such and while it works we also have such a history due to other works in the franchise of downplaying Kevin’s intelligence that it rubs me the wrong way? Like, I had a theory before the episode that he may have stolen somebody elses plans and used them and I honestly feel like that would’ve worked better just, for me, because then there wouldn’t be any question that he was intelligent enough to do this? Like, even if he couldn’t design the thing himself he was smart enough to look at the plans and figure them out and put it together, and with the propensity of that trope we just don’t have that assurance right now with the reboot, it doesn’t seem?

And also- Okay, this next bit y’all need to understand some shit I’ve mentioned before and am mentioning again-

I am a mentally ill person with trauma relating to abuse and bullying who has experience with being a social outsider for various reasons including being queer and whose mental illnesses present with things like grudge-keeping, spite, aggressive tendencies, self-loathing, distrust, self-sabotage, and who has a degree of moral iffy-ness they constantly have to work against that they learned from the toxic influences in their life.

So, needless to say, I’m a bit of a fan of Kevin, a blatantly mentally ill character with trauma relating to abuse and bullying who is blatantly labelled a social outsider due to his powers and whose mental illness presents in many of the same ways mine do.

So you can see how having him be a straight up bully may be a bit of an issue for me.

And it’s not like I’m against the idea that he’s ever engaged in bullying- I know how easy it is to fall into that trap, I have myself, it wasn’t pretty and I’m not proud of it- but having him apparently have bullied Ben for years? When even the reboot has already set up characters to fill that role via bringing back Cash and JT just... I know there’s other people who love it, or feel it’s more accurate to the character, or whatever, but for me, personally, it’s just really uncomfortable? Especially since they removed his powers and therefor that solid showing of him as a social outsider? Like, they took a character that I really relate to (which is why I write him so much and make him so queer and give him some of my disabilities) and make him, basically the opposite of the sort’ve character I’m comfortable watching?

And maybe it’s not made a big deal of and gets left behind by the show, I hope it does, but for me personally it’s a problem?

Also apparently he has a home which, I’m not sure how I feel about that? Like, I’m happy he has one of course we’ve all wanted a happy home for him (except for the people who haven’t but I’ve also noticed that a lot of the time those people seem to be the sort that go “you can’t have a version of that character who’s not abused it removes the whole point of their existence they may as well not be there at all”) but really what we wanted was either 1) a happy home for him (which, might not be the case given he’s apparently a lifelong bully? but who the fuck knows?) or 2) to see what his family situation is like since nothing we get outside of his premiere episode is reliable as of OV, which we apparently are getting nothing of. We just, have nothing. And I’m not sure how I feel about that yet.

None of this is to say that I don’t wanna see his episodes. He’s my baby, I want to see him, and what I’ve seen about his aliens is so cool (apparently his answer to Grey Matter is just a fucking horror movie monster of a thing? yes please that is all my aesthetic!), but some of what we’ve got just makes me uncomfortable and I want to trust MoA but also I’ve been burned so many times before, even when we just look at Kevin stuff, that I’m really wary?

I don’t know, just, I want to love the reboot version of Kevin so bad but I don’t know that I will and if I don’t it will be a fucking crime because holy shit if I like the reboot version of Mike better than the reboot version of Kevin then they will need to give me so damn much to make up for that.

Like, Argit, Cooper, and explicit queer puppy love levels of shit.

I mean it MoA, I am holding your heteronormative and Argit-free show options hostage right now.

#ben 10 2.os #reboot kevin levin #i love my son let me love my son i'm begging #ben 10 analysis #also very much a rant but there's analysis in there

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deathsteel · 3 years

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This Ain’t a Scene Its a Goddamn Drag Race

A RuPaul Drag Race AU ft your favorite gay angel and bisexual himbo

~Part One~

“It’s starting!” he called, wiggling deeper into his usual spot on the couch as he pulled the afghan his brother had knitted for him tighter over his shoulders. “You’re gonna miss it!”

The commercial on the screen ended and the familiar logo for the show flashed across the screen.

“Previously on Drag Race…”

“Goddamnit, we have a DVR,” the other man said, skidding into the room with a gigantic bowl of popcorn in his hands. He flopped down and tugged on the corner of the afghan until the first man relinquished a corner of it to him. “You coulda paused it. Did you start the recording? I told your brother we’d record it.”

“Yes, I’m recording it,” the first man sighed, reaching over to snag some popcorn. “It’s not like we didn’t already see all this happen anyway.”

“It’s all in the editing, gummy bear.” the smaller man snarked right back as the intro segment went through its familiar rigamarole on the screen before them. “Now, shush up.”

The other man grumbled in reply, but smiled around his pilfered popcorn.

Holly Cummunion didn’t bother to hide her smile when she waggled her fingertips at Maura Less as she was sashaying away. She knew the camera would catch her acting like a shady bitch, which wouldn’t win her the crown for Miss Congeniality, but she couldn’t help celebrating the fall of the two-faced monster that was ‘Destraura’. The fact that the other contestant leaving would make Tasha happy too was just an unintended consequence.

“Ladies,” Gabby Reale called, garnering the attention of the five remaining contestants after Maura had finally dragged her saggy ass off of the runway. “I hope you take the judges' critiques to heart going forward. You’re my final five, so if you’re still thinking that less is more, well...”

Gabby ended the subtle dig at the eliminated contestant with a coy twist of her shoulders that made the sequins on her deep red ball gown sparkle.

Holly swallowed hard as she remembered that she had been critiqued heavily by the guest judge for not wearing enough makeup to cover her five o’clock shadow and nodded along solemnly with the other queens. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t been in the bottom two, at this point even the littlest things could mean you were lip syncing for your life.

“And remember, if you can’t love yourself then how in the hell are you gonna love anybody else? Can I get an ay-men?!” Gabby recited, raising her hand up like Sister Mary Clarence feeling the holy spirit move her.

“Ay-men!” Holly recited along with the other girls, waiting for Gabby’s call of “Now let the music play!” before rushing over to gather Kim Chi close to her in a celebratory hug.

“Girl you slayed it!” Holly whispered in her ear, referring to the lip sync battle that the other queen had just won against Maura Less. They’d sung Britney Spears’ Toxic, which was poetic because Maura had been bragging about her Britney skills the whole damn competition, even done a passable impersonation in the Snatch Game.

Kim just showed her teeth and pulled Holly out onto the runway to dance with her, filming the scene that would play with the end credits of the episode when it aired on T.V. She didn’t have to force a smile as she danced, despite how tired she was, after all she was one step closer to becoming America’s next drag superstar.

The quintet made it back to the workroom to find ‘You betta werk, E! #Destraura4Lyfe’ scrawled on the mirror in bright pink lipstick. Holly just rolled her eyes at that because no surprise there, trust Maura to be a fucking troll to the bitter end.

“Well it’s sweet she left us all personal messages,” Kim said sarcastically, snagging up the spray bottle of glass cleaner that had been left on the workspace for her and spraying it liberally over Maura’s parting words. “Bye, bye bye, bitch.”

The other four queens watched in relative silence as Kim finished her task; Dianne Tawank started fidgeting with the tape that was holding up her strapless dress and Holly couldn’t wait to kick off her heels even if wandering around the workroom in her hose would ruin them.

“Sorry your incestuous little clique got broken up, Momma,” Tasha Salad drawled in Eva Destruction’s direction as the other queen watched Kim’s cleaning with a despondent look on her face. “Guess you’ll have to groom another kitten to play with.”

“I’m not your ‘Momma’, Potato,” Eva Destruction snapped, using the derivative nickname that she and Maura had been calling Tasha behind her back since the beginning of the competition.

Holly was pretty sure it was the first time the other queen had heard it used to her face because Tasha’s mouth dropped open in pretty genuine looking shock before her expression morphed into fury.

“Just being respectful to my elders,” Tasha retorted, glancing over at the now clean mirror before storming towards her area of the work room that held her wigs and gowns and many, many trunks of shoes. “But I guess the opera gloves are coming off, Evil.”

Dianne snorted into her hand and rolled her eyes at the other two queens before she dismissed them both and started gingerly tugging at the tape on her dress so that she could take it off. Though her chest was waxed, the other queen still winced as she rolled her skin tight purple dress down her body; revealing angry red marks from the tape, painted on cleavage, padding attached to the inner lining of her dress, and a toned body that Holly couldn’t help but spare a glance at as she moved towards her own makeup kit that held her cold cream near the mirror.

She’d been single for almost five years, she was fucking allowed to look. Dianne just winked at her in the reflection of the mirror before she swanned over to her where her wig styling head was and started tugging at the edges of her ginger, lace-front wig.

“Oh, can’t we all just get along, girls?” Holly asked Kim rhetorically, earning a girlish giggle from her as she bounced around in her platform heels causing the tutu she was wearing to flutter prettily.

Holly presumed the other queen was running on leftover adrenaline from her near-miss with elimination, but her excess energy could also be due to the fact that Kim was about ten years younger than her. God, she made her feel old.

“What-ever,” Eva scoffed, kicking her heels off without a care to the fact that one of the size 13s almost caught Kim in her shin. “You can’t even be bothered to scrape off that sandpaper on your chin so excuse me if I don’t think you’re the best person to be leading a kumbaya drum circle.”

“Just cause I live on the west coast,” Holly replied evenly, leaning in close to the mirror so she could start smearing cold cream over her jawline. “Doesn’t mean I’m a hippie, so fuck you. And my jaw may be rough, but at least it doesn’t rub as bad as watching my girlfriend get sent home by a teenager. Does it, Mother-dear?”

“Bitch, what’d I just say?” Eva started, rounding quickly on Holly until the older queen was looming menacingly behind her in the mirror.

“Now, now, ladies,” Dianne chided in her clipped British accent as she shimmied the rest of her way out of her dress; draping it carefully over a dress form before she started scratching her painted nails through her short blonde hair that had gotten flattened to her head with sweat while under her wig. “Can you please save your bickering for tomorrow? When I’m hungover enough from celebrating my win to tune you all out?”

There was a tense silence that Dianne must have taken as agreement because the queen just nodded to herself and started tugging the hip padding out of her tights. Holly focused her own attention on getting off as much of her makeup as she could for now and then started the arduous task of getting her own tight, structured dress off without ripping out the boning in the bodice; that shit was a bitch to fix and her fingers already hurt from helping Kim stitch herself into her own dress for the evening.

Within half an hour the five glamourous women who had entered the workroom had been defrocked down to the five average, gay men that made up their cores. It wasn’t until one of the show’s production assistants was going around to remove their microphones for the evening and the cameras were shut off that one of them spoke up.

“Anyone down for pizza tonight?” Kevin asked, scratching at a stray smear of his bright green eyeshadow that had somehow ended up on the back of his hand. “My treat?”

“I’m in,” Castiel replied, earning a quick smile from the short Asian man as the group began to head out of the studio; back to the hotel rooms that were their home away from home for the time that they were filming the show. “Balthazar?”

“As long as I can drink as well,” the British expat replied, twitching with the collar of the leather jacket he was wearing over a tight Henley as they emerged into the brisk evening that was San Francisco in early November.

Balthazar always seemed to be dressed to impressed even though when off camera the contestants spent most of their time playing cards in their hotel, forbidden to go out for even a nightcap by their contracts and an ever watchful security team. They also couldn’t have cell phones, web access, watch the news, or have any contact whatsoever with their family and friends; which was a whole separate bitch in and of itself.

One thing that all of the contestants had agreed on though was that their rooms had great mini bars, an even better porn selection, and more than enough take-out menus to suit every possible taste.

“Well, jailbait can’t drink any of it,” Raphael answered in a bored tone as he picked at his chipping nail polish. The other man looked up when his remark was met with silence and it was then he saw the scathing look that Castiel and Balthazar were giving him as Kevin blushed down at his feet. “Whaaaat? You bitches know I’m joking.”

“It’s fine,” Kevin muttered, flinching when Luc shouldered impatiently past him to climb into the backseat of one of the black town cars that was waiting for them at the curb. “You want pizza, Luc?”

“Fuck your pizza,” Luc growled back, his eyes noticeably red-rimmed. “Can we go now?”

The four men looked meaningfully at each other, but it was Castiel that broke first; letting out a deep sigh before he pulled his old college hoodie tighter around himself and climbed into the empty seat beside Luc. Kevin, Raphael and Balthazar would take the other car, unwilling to ride with the sullen man since his friend had just been sent home.

Castiel suspected (and apparently others did too) that the pair were more than ‘just friends’, but since romantic relationships between contestants were forbidden they had kept mum about Luc and Michael’s closeness while in front of the producers; allowing them to think it was a harmless clique that had formed as they tended to do on reality shows. But it was obvious by how upset the other man was, sniffling into the cuffs of his long sleeved red shirt, that something more had definitely been going on between the two queens.

“I put him in drag for the first time,” Luc said, breaking the heavy silence that had settled between them on the short drive from the studio to the hotel.

“Are you going to be okay?” Castiel questioned, unable to hide his concern for the other man, even though it smacked of an overreaction. Hell, it's not like Michael had died or anything; just gone back to New York for a while.

“Bite me, cum-stain,” Luc replied and Castiel rolled his eyes at the unimaginative nickname.

He was willing to bet money that that particular gem had been Michael’s idea of a parting shot; not $100,000 of course, but at least a tenner or something. Castiel was pretty certain either way that he’d win it back.

#Fic writing #destiel fanfiction #spn fanfiction #rpdr au #gd drag race

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slice-of-horan · 7 years

Text

Preference #12: Crush

Harry: “I know babe, I know.” Harry’s pleading voice echoed through his house. You glanced up at the clock hanging on the wall, Five o’clock exactly. The usual time when Harry and his current girlfriend Vanessa, or the spawn of satan as you called her, had their regular old fight. You flicked through your magazine slowly as you tried to block out the sounds of Harry pleading and the screech of the cellphone as Vanessa screamed out insults and accusations. You hated seeing him trapped in a toxic relationship like this, especially when in your heart you knew that you could be the one to make him happy. The unrequited crush was the worst type of crush, and it only made it worse that you and Harry were best friends ... just best friends.

“Babe, you’re the one I want to be with, okay? Not Y/N, she’s just a friend.” You felt a pang in your heart at those words. It was the worst feeling in the world to fall for someone you have zero chance with, but so far you had successfully put on a brave face and kept your infatuation a complete secret.

“Vanessa I love you okay! You know this, Y/N means nothing to me in that way.” You felt tears begin to well up in your eyes and blinked rapidly. He was only speaking the truth, and you could not blame him for that. You heard Harry say goodbye and slowly walk back to your room, so you stared at the magazine, willing yourself to hold your tongue.

“Sorry about that, she’s just going through a lot right now.” You nodded in response, knowing if you opened your mouth all your thoughts and emotions would come tumbling out. He sighed and lay down on the bed next to you. You felt your skin heat up just by being close to him.

“I wish she was like you, our relationship would be way less complicated.” He chuckled and nudged you with his hip. You bit your lip, trying hard to focus on the article you were reading. A single tear rolled down your cheek and you quickly brushed it away.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Harry sat up, turning to face you, his face full of concern. You felt yourself fall for him even more just by that and you let out a shaky breath that you didn't even know you had been holding.

“No, I need to go... I’m sorry.” You gathered your stuff and practically sprinted out of his bedroom.

Liam: “Y/N you don’t even like football, why are we here?” Your best friend whined as you trudged along the football field outside your school. It was the middle of winter and it was absolutely freezing, thunder rumbled in the sky.

“I know but Liam is playing and I want to show my support.” You sat down on the ice-cold bleachers, shivering as you watched the football team warm up. You heard your best friend scoff and nudge you with her arm.

“Show your support? You are dressed to the nines girl, you want him to notice how hot you look.” You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment and you shook your head quickly, avoiding eye contact.

“No way, we are just friends Y/BF/N”. You caught Liam’s eye and your heart fluttered as he waved to you. Even you had to admit, that feeling was not a platonic one.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The game ended with the school’s team winning, Liam kicking the final goal. As per school tradition, everyone would now go back to someones house and party until the early hours of the night.

“I am so so so excited. I heard Nick’s got the house completely to himself and you know Nick’s parties are always the best ones.” Your best friend chattered on as you walked to your car amidst a crowd of loud fans. You listened slightly, mainly trying to spot Liam. You hated to admit it, but this crush you had on him was deepening every single day.

“Y/N!” You turned around at the sound of Liam’s voice and saw him jogging towards you, a sweet smile plastered on his face. He looked so damn good in that Football uniform.

“Hey Liam! Good game today.” He scratched the back of his head and smiled sheepishly.

“Thanks, I was just wondering if you were going to Nick’s party tonight?” Your cheeks flushed as your best friend smiled knowingly. You nodded in response, your stomach in complete knots.

“Sweet, I’d love to see you there.”

Zayn: “Another one? Y/N that’s the third one this week.” You smiled to yourself as you admired the neatly-folded piece of paper that fell out of your textbook. For the past two weeks you had been receiving little love notes from an anonymous person. They were incredibly sweet and well written and they made your stomach fill with butterflies.

“I just want to know who it is.” You sighed to your friends, scanning over the note. You knew in your heart who you wanted it to be, but it was highly unlikely it would ever be him. You glanced around the classroom and your gaze fell to him, like it usually did. He was perfection, exactly why he didn’t even know you existed.

“What’s on the back Y/N?” You flipped over the note and read the sentences scrawled on the back.

I need to see you. Meet me at the Nick’s party tonight, on the balcony overlooking the garden. I’ll be waiting.

Holy shit. You felt the butterflies in your stomach remerge. Tonight, finally, you would know who had been writing to you so beautifully. It had only been two weeks but it felt so much longer.

“He wants me to meet him tonight at Nick’s party.” As your friends chattered excitedly around you, your gaze drifted to Zayn who was starting intensely at you. His brown eyes bore into yours, making your heart flutter. Although it was highly unlikely, you really hoped Zayn would be the one waiting on the balcony.

Niall: “See the second Avengers was not even slightly as good as the first one” You gestured to the television where the screen showed a fighting action sequence. You were currently in Niall’s living room having a movie day with all the boys. It was a tradition, watch a bunch of movies and argue over how good/bad it is.

“No way Y/N, we get two new loveable characters and we didn’t get any in the first one.” Niall retorted, ruffling your hair from his spot next to you. You scowled and swatted his hand away before leaning back against his shoulder. You and Niall had been best friends since you first met back in grade school. Gradually as he met the rest of the lads, you had begun to be friends with all of them. Now you were one big inseparable group.

“Anyway we need a popcorn refill, anyone want anything while I’m up?” Everyone shook their heads no so you grabbed the bowl and walked to the kitchen. As soon as you left the room you heard muttering break out between them all. Curious, you listened in slightly. You could only make out the words Niall, her and crush.

“What the hell...” You whispered to yourself. Niall had a crush? Niall hardly ever got crushes on girls and every time he did it killed you. You had developed feelings for Niall since you first met him, but of course you kept it to yourself. Why risk ruining an amazing friendship when you know he doesn’t feel the same way? You sighed and grabbed the popcorn, all your happiness drained out of your body, and walked back to the boys. Of course he didn’t feel the same way, you were nobody and he was somebody.

Louis: “He totally likes you Y/N, he told me himself.” You and your best friend were getting ready for Nick’s party tonight, dressing yourself up to the nines and having some pre-drinks. Right now your best friend was telling you about the conversation she had with Louis, encouraging you to make a move on him.

“Y/BF/N how can I be sure? I need to talk to him, I’m too shy to go up and just kiss him.” You laughed, putting on your classic little black dress and looking at yourself in the mirror. A definite improvement, hopefully one Louis would notice.

“Oh please, he said so himself. I dare you to just do it, whats the worse that could happen?” You thought about it for a moment, she had a point. Life was short, taking risks was something everyone had to do at one point. Your stomach somersaulted at the thought.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The music was pounding, empty cups were strewn across the lawn and there was a girl practically dry humping a guy on the porch. The stench of tequila and beer was overwhelming.

“I’m so freaking excited!” Your best friend squealed and practically dragged you inside. The whole house was filled with every single senior at school, majority of them were way too drunk to function normally.

“Now you go find Louis, I’m going dancing.” You laughed as your best friend flounced away. You glanced around the room, Louis was nowhere in sight. It left two main places, the kitchen or outside near the hot tub. Your guess was the latter. You manoeuvred around everyone, making your way outside. The backyard was in an even worse state than the front yard, it seemed like it had become the designated place for hook ups. Couples were everywhere and you were extremely uncomfortable. You scanned the area and felt your heart drop as you noticed one of the ‘couples’ in the hot tub was Louis and a random, gorgeous girl. So much for having a crush on you...

Hey guys! I hope you enjoy this, message me if you want a part 2 and I’ll oblige! xx

#one direction #1D #one direction imagines #one direction preference #one direction imagine #one direction preferences #1D imagines #1D imagine #1D preference #1D preferences

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stelleralcid-blog · 8 years

Text

I added an epilogue to “Tango’s Secret Santa” and realized i never posted the full work here

so yeehaw have the entire thing here or on ao3

Rated Teen for some swearing and heavily implied heavy makeouts

“Everyone, listen up, this is your captains speaking!”

Holster’s voice boomed to the back of the bus and shook Tango from his dozing against the window.

“I’ve always wanted to say that. Okay, Ransom, go!”

“Yeah, so! We’re doing a team gift exchange. It’s mandatory. And anonymous. Like a Secret Santa, or Secret Snowflake, or Nondenominational Winter Buddies. Blame Holster for that one.” “It’s true, my fourth grade teacher was afraid of offending the one Jewish kid (me), so we called it that. And I got to teach everyone Dreidel. That part was great.”

“Anyways. We’re putting a $25 limit on this. You all have a week and a half, we’re doing this the Friday night after finals end at the Haus. Homemade gifts are encouraged and treasured, but don’t make crap, yeah?”

“And Bits, pies don’t count, we know you’d make them for us anyways and we love you for that.”

“… I’m revoking your pie privileges, Mr. Birkholtz.”

“Fine, pie AND some other gift.”

“Deal.”

Ransom held out a snapback with folded scraps of paper inside. “Time to pick! We’ll come to you!”

He made his way up the aisle, as hands reached out from the seats to grab paper. Tango took a slip and unfolded it to see Ransom’s name scrawled in small, tidy handwriting.

“Be careful about keeping this a secret!” Holster shouted as Ransom made his way back to the front of the bus (Tango made sure to scrunch the paper into his fist tightly). “If your buddy finds out you have them before next Friday, that’s a fine!”

Ransom finding out was the last thing on Tango’s mind. It was still stuck in holy crap I have one of my captains he’s a SENIOR I can’t let him down but I have no idea what he wants/likes??? mode. What was Ransom even in to besides hockey? Could Tango get him something hockey related? Was that too much of a cop-out? He had a vague recollection of his captain being on a pre-med track. A stethoscope? One of those little round things they grow germs on?

Tango’s thoughts were interrupted by the bus pulling in to the parking lot of the rink, and Lardo standing up to give an overview of the evening’s game logistics. As the team filed off the bus, Tango’s usual stream of questions directed towards Lardo was strangely absent. Tango moved towards the storage compartment to collect his bag. As he grabbed it and turned to walk in to the rink, he came face to face with Lardo.

“Bro, if you’re out of ideas, ask someone for help. Trust me, guessing is not always a great plan on this team. I think Shitty’s ego is still wounded from when Wicks threw out the Hulk underoos he got.”

Tango had a brief image of Ransom in Captain America underpants, fervently insisting that they weren’t right, he was Canadian.

“Yikes, okay. Who should I ask? I don’t want to bug anyone—“ (Lardo rolled her eyes, Tango missed it) “—so I guess I’ll wait till after the game? Who would be good for this? Not Holster, obviously, because he’d definitely tell, but I dunno who…”

Lardo glanced over her shoulder at a head of orange hair retreating to the rink. “Why don’t you ask Dex? He’s your roommate tonight, right?”

“Oh! Yeah! He’s a defenseman, too, so he probably knows what Rans likes!”

“Sure, Tango. Kay, gotta go wrangle the rest of the team now. Good luck, see you later.”

Lardo flashed a peace sign, flipped her sunglasses down (why is she wearing them if the sun is setting? I have to ask her about that later.), and strode purposefully towards the rink.

---

Back at the hotel, as the Samwell Men’s Hockey team waited to check in, they relived the highlights of their victory.

“Dude, that pass to Ollie was slick. Some mad sauce to set him up for that shot.”

“Brah, not as sweet as Bits’ takeaway in the second. That defenseman didn’t know where the puck went for a solid 10 seconds.”

“Oh stop it, that was nothing. Look at Chowder! Stopping all those shots on that PK!”

Just then, Lardo turned away from the front desk and approached the gaggle of hockey players strewn about on the lobby furniture. “Got all your keys. I’m not your mom, but the bus is leaving at 5:30 tomorrow. Don’t stay up too late.”

Tango wasn’t planning on it, but he did still have to talk to Dex, and work on his communication assignment that he had missed for this roadie, and wait did the professor say she’d give him an extension until tomorrow or the next day? And what part of his grade would this go into? Participation?

“Hey, Tony, grab your gear, c’mon.” Tango was shaken away from his fretting by Dex chucking a key card at his head.

“Oh! What room are we in? Are all the rooms in a cluster like last time? I know Lardo told us to go to sleep early but is there a time we absolutely need to be quiet by? Because I know if we end up playing cards in Ransom and Holster’s room again we might get loud. But we don’t have to if we should all go to sle—“

“We’re in 212, don’t know, I don’t think so, we’re not all hanging out because I need to sleep. I’m turning the lights off at 10,” Dex snapped back.

“Okay.” Tango had learned that Dex was not always the happiest roommate after a long bus ride and a tiring game. He had offered at the beginning of the season to switch with Nursey into Chowder’s room, but Dex had prickled even more at that.

They rode up the elevator in silence. Dex frowned straight ahead at the door, Tango drummed his fingers on his thigh. They walked down the hall, Dex unlocked and opened the door, and immediately threw his bag on the bed closest to the door. “Great, I get the window, then? Thanks!”

Tango received a grunt of recognition as Dex dug his charger out and plugged in his phone.

“Hey, were you gonna take another shower tonight? Or one in the morning? If you aren’t, I’m gonna take the little shampoo bottles, because my mom said they have to throw them out anyways but she likes collecting them because hey, free soap.”

Dex raised an eyebrow as he focused on his phone. “All yours, T.”

“Cool!”

Tango threw on his pajama pants, plugged in his phone, then went to grab the soap and brush his teeth. He was planning on going to bed, but something was bugging him. He wanted to ask Dex something about… Oh! Ransom’s present!

“Hey ‘ex! Haat hould I ‘et hor Ransom?” Tango barreled out of the bathroom with a mouth full of toothpaste and an armful of soap. When Dex glanced up from his phone to give him an incredulous look, he ran back in, spit the toothpaste out, and tried again.

“What should I get Ransom? For the secret gift thing. I don’t know what he likes, and I don’t wanna disappoint him because y’know, captain, and I don’t have any good ideas.”

“Fuck, I don’t know. Isn’t he a bio major?”

“Something like that? I was thinking about some, like, icky medical equipment because maybe he could use it and he’s in a lab all the time but I don’t know where to get any and I’m worried it’ll be over 25 dollars. And you and him are both defensemen, so I dunno, maybe you had better ideas?”

Dex sighed, and put his phone down. “You’re not gonna shut up until I help you, are you.”

“I can stop talking to you! If you have work or something. I can just come up with something by myself. I might just talk myself through it a little, though, but I can do it quietly!” “No, you can’t.” Dex stared at Tango with a look strangely similar to the one Bitty always had when he said “oh, honey.”

“What’s something you know he needs?” Dex prompted.

“Um. Good grades? Less stress?” “Tony. That is literally every college student.”

“I could get him a starbucks gift card because he drinks coffee?” “Cop-out.”

“Red bull?”

“More interesting, but still a cop out, and you’ll get yelled at by Holster for ‘upsetting the coral reef with toxic waste’ or something like that.”

“Oh yeah, I’ve heard caffeine can really stress people out. It doesn’t do that for me, though. Does it do that for you?”

“No.” Dex frowned. “You might be on to something, though, with the stress thing. Ransom could use an outlet. I want to be able to be in the Haus while he’s studying and not be one hundred percent silent.”

Just then, Dex’s phone made a definitely not silent “BRAAAMMP BRAAAAAMP BRAAAAMP”.

“Shit, that’s my alarm, it’s 10. I’m turning in,” Dex said as he fumbled to stop the noise.

“You have an alarm to go to sleep? Doesn’t that wake you up?”

“Good night.” Dex got up, flipped the lightswitch, and collapsed back onto his bed, leaving Tango stranded in the darkness all the way next to the bathroom.

He picked his way back across the room to his bed, and ended up running into the coffee table. Tango must have hit it at an odd angle, because in addition to the clunk he heard a buzzing sound. Do tables make that noise? Maybe it was the carpet? Weird. He finally made it to (well, ran into) his bed, and crawled under the covers.

So I could get Ransom something for stress relief. A stress ball? Those are sometimes squishy rubber… so kind of like a round, soft, puck? Could I make one out of a puck? I wonder if they melt. Could someone freeze a stress ball and use it as a puck? I bet you could do that with a lot of things if they’re cold enough and round enough. Would they shoot as well? What else is small and round?... a cookie! Bitty would kill me, though, so maybe not…

Tango was drifting off to thoughts of baked goods flying around the Faber ice when he heard the soft kchunk of the door opening. He ignored it because Lardo said go to sleep and I want to dream about flying mini pies, until he heard sheets rustling and a low murmur from the other side of the room.

Well that is certainly weird. Tango was about to sit up and look over when he heard a groan choked off in a short gasp. He decided he most certainly did not want to see whatever Dex was up to. Instead, he stared at the clock on his bedside table, with a look of horror on his face, probably. He didn’t have a mirror.

Ten thirty seven that could rearrange to seventeen oh three or oh one thirsty seven OH SHIT THIRSTY SEX DEX IS DOING UNSPEAKABLE THINGS RIGHT OVER THERE.

He tried his hardest not to hear the bed creak or the occasional wet sound, or to wonder who Dex was making those scarring noises with. I can block the noises out and Dex won’t notice. I have a pillow. It’s fine, he doesn’t need to know I heard him. Just gotta be careful.

Tango steeled himself, shut his eyes, and rolled over, taking his pillow with him over the top of his head. The rustling across the room paused. Tango caught a faint whisper, “… owder… sleeps like a log…” and a reply: “let’s go.”

He heard soft padding footsteps, then a louder thud made his eyes fly open. Whoever it was had hit the door in a tangle with Dex. A hand fumbled for the handle, and pulled it open. The hall light briefly glanced off of a patterned band of a tattoo on an arm, and shone through half lidded grey eyes, then the door closed and Tango was left in the dark trying his best to ignore the fact that Nursey and Dex were making out next to him thirty seconds earlier.

---

The next morning, the team stumbled onto the bus in various stages of “didn’t get nearly enough sleep”. This ranged from Ransom and Chowder, quietly debating who had the tastier granola bar, to Bitty, snuggled up in a hoodie with the strings pulled to obscure his face, dragging his feet up the aisle. Tango could not tell if Bitty actually had his eyes open or not. Tango himself was probably closer to Bitty on the tired scale, as he had laid awake for a while after Dex and Nursey had left, trying to purge the memory of the sounds he had heard and the knowledge that ew, they were hooking up right there who DOES that??? From his mind. He couldn’t figure out when he had finally fallen asleep, but must have, because Dex reawakened him when he came in at 1:26 AM. That just set his brain off again.

Tango saw Dex head towards the back row of seats, so immediately ducked into one of the front rows. As he crammed his backpack under the seat in front and settled against the window, Ransom swung in across from him.

“Hey, T. You look a little tired. Sleep okay?”

Holster shushed him on his way to the seat behind Ransom.

“It’s before 6. Not everyone is as used to running on zero sleep as you.”

As Ransom reached back to punch him good naturedly, Tango realized this could be a good opportunity to make at least a little sense of what he had witnessed last night. He piped up as the bus started to pull out of the lot,

“Actually, I have some questions for you guys. As captains? It’s why I didn’t sleep well.”

“Contemplating life’s big questions, are we now?”

“Not really, it’s more romantic-related-ish.”

Holster gave Ransom a gleeful look. “It’s your turn to give the uncomfortable sex talk to the tadpoles!” “Nonono, not for me! Like, a third wheel question! Like, I saw something I shouldn’t have!”

“Oh?” Ransom quirked an eyebrow, which Tango took as an invitation to explain.

“Yeah, um, and it may have involved…,” he dropped his voice to a whisper, “people on the team.”

“Oh.”

Ransom shot a look at Holster, held up a finger to Tango, and put his head over the back of the seat. The captains whispered furiously to each other, then turned back to a squirming Tango with what he recognized as their Serious Captain Faces. Mostly they just looked like they were slightly in pain, but Tango and the rest of the team always played along.

“Okay,” Ransom began. “First, thank you for coming to us first about this. You didn’t tell anyone else, did you?”

“No.”

“All right. Good. Thank you.” Ransom let out a breath. “You probably should not tell anyone. Because, not to name any names, but we know how this could turn out.”

“Right.” Tango was vague on whatever details Ransom seemed to be implying, but he could imagine grumpy Dex getting a lot grumpier if he had a secret get out without his control, and he didn’t want to imagine Nursey losing his chill.

“Also, probably don’t talk to him about it. He’ll let everyone on the team know when he’s ready, yeah? Don’t want to rush anything,” Holster said, and Ransom nodded sagely.

“Okay, that makes sense.” “As for getting it out of your head, we got nothing. We’re still reeling from when we found out. Baby animal pictures help as a good distraction, but that’s about all, and it’s not permanent. Lardo does have a pretty large file of ducklings she can send to you.” “Bro. Instead of dick pics, she sends duck pics.” “BRO.” Holster boomed.

“Shhhhh!!!” said the entire rest of the bus.

---

Rain poured from the December sky as Tango hurried through the yard up to the Haus. He was just glad that it was warm enough to rain today; 40 degrees felt downright balmy when it had been in the 20s the week before. He opened the door to warmth and the smell of something fried, and as he took off his jacket he pulled out the small present with a card marked “Ransom” in his pocket.

“Bitty? Ransom? Holster? Chowder? Lardo? I’m here!”

“We’re in the kitchen, come on back!”

Tango poked his head in to see Bitty at the stove with Holster, and Ransom, Lardo, and Chowder at the table. Lardo was holding a piping bag, and Chowder was covered in powdered sugar.

“Hey, Tony!” Chowder smiled. “We’re helping Bitty and Holster make snacks for later! They’re like jelly donuts, but not quite, I guess. Holster can explain better.” He spotted the package in Tango’s hands. “You can put that in the den! Or I can do that, I need to go get mine and put it there, anyways.”

Chowder took the present from Tango and ran upstairs to grab his own. Tango turned his attention to the piping bag Lardo had.

“What’s that for? And is Bitty making donuts? Are those the ones Chowder was talking about? Oh, and is that why he had powdered sugar all over, too?”

“One answer to all of those, T. Bitty and I are making sufganyot!”

“Bless you.”

“No, Tango, that’s what they’re called, dear. They’re for Hanukkah, Holster wanted me to try making his grandma’s recipe.”

“They were a tradition, until my mother decided that she didn’t want the entire house smelling like fried and banned us making them. I haven’t had them since high school! Basically, Hanukkah’s one of those ‘they tried to kill us all, they failed, let’s eat’ Jewish holidays, which also involves an oil-related miracle. So the ‘let’s eat’ portion is fried food.”

“Holster’s turned us into a production line,” said Lardo. “You can take over powdered sugar duty from Chowder, if you want. Take the ones I’ve already put the jelly in.” She nodded towards a plate of golden fritters leaking jelly from their ends.

“Okay!” Tony grabbed the plate and the sifter full of powdered sugar. “When are we starting with presents?” “Oh, the youth, always on about their presents.” Ransom put on his best old man voice. “When everyone else gets here. You’re like 10 minutes early.”

“Oh! All right.”

They listened to the rain beat on the windows of the kitchen and the pile of completed sufganyot grew steadily larger. The rest of the team slowly trickled in, and the volume of the conversation grew until Ransom and Holster announced it was time for the gift exchange. Everyone filed into the den, and Tango found himself squashed between Whiskey and Nursey on the couch. Dex was on Nursey’s other side. Tango couldn’t stop himself from raising his eyebrows at that, and he saw Dex catch him and turn red. Ohmygod he knows I know. I’m going to have to move to Australia. Do they have hockey there? He almost missed Holster’s explanation of how opening gifts would work.

“We’ll pick one person to go first. Find your gift from the pile and open it! Whoever gave it to them, fess up, and you can do the hugging/thanking/whatnot. The person who gave the gift that just got opened then goes next.”

“Also, if there’s a card, read that first. We were not raised by wolves. Well, I hope not.”

“Okay, the captains have decided that one of the taddies has to go first because we said so. Whiskey! Go!”

Whiskey extracted himself from the couch, walked nonchalantly to the gift pile, and drew out a bag with tissue paper. He pawed through the bag, and pulled out what looked like a little booklet.

“Does this count as a card?”

“No, that’s part of your present. What’s it say?” Holster encouraged.

“101 reasons to stay away from the lacrosse team.” Whiskey raised one eyebrow. “I’m guessing this was you, Holster?”

“I can’t take all the credit, Shitty helped too.”

“Gee, thanks…”

“What else is in there?” Whiskey pulled out some stick tape and held it up.

“So you can remember where you come from, my dude.”

As he sat back down, Tony saw Whiskey roll his eyes.

“Holster, your turn!”

Holster extracted a small package, covered in what looked like burlap splattered in acrylic paint.

“I totally know who this is from,” Holster grinned.

He peeled the fabric back to reveal a book on coral reef care. “Lards, this is a terrible joke, thank you.” “Only the dad-liest for you, brah.” Lardo pointed at Holster and winked. Nursey leaned over to Dex and whispered something in his ear. Tango wished he had picked a different spot that was not on the couch.

The gift opening continued. Lardo got a box of crayons and a dictionary for her next project from Nursey, Nursey got a Falconers scarf from Bitty, Bitty got an Amtrak gift certificate from Ransom. Tango barely had time to wonder why he would need that, the train only ran to Providence, when Ransom got up to open his gift.

He picked the small package out of the pile, and peeled back the tape clumsily holding the paper together to reveal a stress ball and some ballpoint pens. Tango piped up, “I thought you could use the pens to take notes, and also click them to have something to fiddle with in your hands? Or just use the stress ball if the pens aren’t going to cut it.”

Ransom looked over at Tango with a look of mild surprise on his face. “No, the pens are perfect! How’d you know I needed more?” “I didn’t?”

“I sort of broke the rest of mine clicking them too hard. But like you said, I can use the stress ball if they’re getting too beat up on.” Ransom put the present down and crossed the room to the couch, and promptly put Tango in a friendly headlock. “Thanks, Tony, now everyone knows I’m a nerd!” He mussed up his hair, then let him go.

“Tango, your turn!”

“Oh!”

He approached the pile and saw a small box with a bow and an envelope with “Tony” scrawled across. Remembering Holster’s words, he opened the card first.

“Tony,

First of all, don’t read this out loud. Second: I’m sorry about that night on the roadie. I realize that was probably really uncomfortable for you. I also owe a lot to you for not telling anyone about it, or us (oops, Tango thought. Well, I think they already knew, so I guess it’s okay?). These are some things I wish you had, and you could probably use them for the rest of college, too. Especially if you end up in the Haus. I’ve heard the walls are thin. Nurse and I will tell the team when we’re ready, but till then, thanks for having our backs, and we’ve got yours too.

William Pointdexter”

He opened the box to find a small bag of earplugs. Chowder peeked over his shoulder.

“Who’s this from?” Dex raised his hand from the couch.

“What are they for?” Chowder asked.

“Dex snores on roadies,” Tango blurted out, and glanced at the couch. Dex mouthed “thank you” or “fuck you” at him, he couldn’t quite tell.

“Practical and snarky! Nice, Dexy,” Nursey elbowed Dex in the ribs. “Your turn!”

The gift unwrapping moved on, and Tango felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He munched on a pastry when they were passed around, laughed at the cat in a Sharks hoodie that Whiskey gave to Chowder, and when he noticed Nursey and Dex’s hands pressed together in the small space between the couch cushions, he didn’t freak out. He had a lot of baby goat pictures saved on his phone, and that was good enough.

---

Epilogue

---

“To sum up: Me and Jack are dating, and it’s really important that you all keep this a secret. I’m sure y’all could guess how the media would react if they knew there was an NHL player who isn’t straight. But we really trust everyone on this team, and wanted to share this with you.”

“We’re really glad you did, Bitty. Thank you for trusting us, and we won’t let you down. Right?” Holster glared at Tango, Whiskey, and the other tadpoles piled onto the couch. “Right!” said Tango, elbowing Ells and Brady on either side, and kicking Whiskey, who was leaning up against everyone’s legs.

“Yeah, Bits, we got your back.” “Yep, that’s what this team’s about.”

“You’re cool, Bitty, we got you.”

“You all are the best teammates.” Bitty beamed. “Oh! I almost forgot! I baked a thank-you pie, it’s chocolate chess! If all y’all want to come to the kitchen, I can serve it up!”

Whiskey, Ells, and Brady immediately sprang up and jostled each other in an effort to get to the kitchen. Tango was about to follow them, when Ransom spoke up from where he and Holster were standing.

“Hey, Tango, wait a sec.” Uh oh. They both had their Serious Captain Faces on.

“Um, if this is about the soccer ball through the window, I want to say I do know who did it, but I’m not going to narc.”

Holster lit up. “Wait, you do? Shit, Tony, why didn’t you—wait, no, that’s not what this is about.”

“But we’ll come back to that later,” added Ransom, raising an eyebrow. “We wanted to thank you for keeping Jack and Bitty’s secret. It’s hard to do that sometimes.” Tango frowned. But I just found out about them?

“Yeah, I gotta say, we were a bit worried when you first came to us.”

Wait…

“Not to mention a bit confused,” Holster plowed on. “We didn’t know how you could have seen something because Jack isn’t around that much, but whatever, they weren’t exactly discreet.” Tango’s mouth fell open. They thought I saw Bitty and Jack Zimmerman. “Oh, before I wasn’t talking about—”

“Seriously, all the pet names over the phone? Gross. I sort of wish Bits told us earlier so we could have fined them more. Dex has been grousing about the dryer for months.”

Tango didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the mention of Dex.

“I know, Rans. At least he hasn’t been taking it out on Nursey. Tango, if you heard the way those two used to go at it…”

Tango rushed to the kitchen to cram his mouth with pie and stop himself from blurting out “I already did”.

#tango #check please #tony tango #nurseydex #dex #nursey #holster is jewish #emma writes sometimes

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