#like even the fluff tag aint safe

[bubblymilktee]

me when ive been scrolling forever and cant find any fluff under the ellie williams tag

[opaljm]

scream your panties (m) – pjm

➺ pairing: jimin x female reader

➺ genres/tropes: fluff; humor; smut; minor angst; panhellenic college au ; established relationship ; halloween shenanigans

➺ warning/content tags: 18+; swearing (cuz issa fic by me), extremely inaccurate depictions of Greek life (I used PBP because I have friends from there and it’s the only one I feel safe making fun of); mutually jealous Jimin and Y/N who are in a deeply symbiotic relationship and are somehow the same person, sexualized Toy Story Halloween costumes, Y/N is prone to murderous fits of rage but so is Jimin (he just pretends he isn’t to look more civilized), haunted houses are scary (includes jump scares, scary themed rooms, and also taegiseok n yeonbin in creepy costumes), fighting n misunderstandings (gets scary for a sec but its quick like ripping off a bandage), smut: boob enthusiast Jimin, tons of breast play n nipple play, chest enthusiast Y/N cuz Jimin has nipple piercings 😏, Jimin likes to spank you both inside and outside the bedroom, hand job, unprotected penetrative rough sex (multiple times), Jimin n Y/N get randomly into the feels all the fucking time so if you hate intimacy this fic aint the one for you, copious marking/biting, spit play, panty thief Jimin returns (sorry but this is canon to my Jimins I can’t make him stop 🤡), big dick size king Jimin, creampies/pussy stuffing, blow job, sixty-nine action (yes they blow and eat out each other at the same time), fingering, multiple orgasms, riding, cock warming, showering together

➺ word count: 17.4k

➺ summary: As your midterms have ended and Halloween has arrived, you are looking forward to a pleasant time relaxing and enjoying the festivities at your sorority and Jimin's frat houses. Luck is not in your favor, though, because things keep going wrong like a trail of dominoes falling – the only upside to your slowly deteriorating day being that you get to end it with your boyfriend's delicious self between your legs.

➺ author’s note: Yo sorry for being a hot mess 😭. I had to change my fic idea for this collab last minute (literally on like Oct. 29) and since then it's been a mad dash to get this fic out. I didn't abandon the vampire fic idea, I'm just gonna write it outside a collab with deadlines don't fret! Anyways I hope you really enjoy this fic, it was supposed to be a short lil cute pwp and I made it a super long smutty mammoth fic because I'm obsessed with Jimin 🙄. Btw I amped up the steamy factor and length cuz I'm going on a writing break after Nov. 15 since I’m not really going to have much of free time to write. I’ll still attempt to post once a month but if that doesn’t happen please don’t pressure me about it? I posted like 100k for you guys this year and the year isn’t even over. I hope this tides you over until you get the second half of LOTL. Cuz like, is it a Halloween fic? Sure. But also, do sororities and frats always have random ass costume parties in the middle of the year? Yeah, man. You can read this fic at any time of the year honestly. Please leave some love for this fic if you did like it 💕 feedback is always incredible to receive. The validation I get on each fic I post increases my confidence and allows me to feel secure in continuing to write and post more stories for you guys. I love you a lot and I’ll miss you when I’m on my writing hiatus. These exams are absolutely critical though; I can’t manage both the stress of tumblr and school at the same time for Nov-Jan tbh.

This fic is a part of Jimin’s Sunset Spooktober! Banner made by my darling @knjsnoona & me! It’s just collaboration after collaboration in this household lmaoo 🥰. Beta-read by @jimilter she’s on payroll now! Jimin writes the checks to my lovely bff for all of her help (this is a joke I hope you understand that 😭). I feel like I should credit Ash as a ghost writer. I mean she didn't write this fic but she basically could've with how much I told her and how much she helped. I’m truly blessed to have such lovely and supportive angels as friends 🥺

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It’s hot in your bedroom but you don’t want to push the male who’s got his face buried in your chest off your body.

Stifling a sigh, your left hand caresses his scalp, long fingers threading themselves into the messy overgrown gunmetal gray strands. Jimin slides his palms over your sides, grasping a hold of your tiny waist and pulling you closer to him as you throw a leg over his hips. His hands move north as he brushes them past your ribs and grabs your bare breasts, uncovered since you are mostly nude underneath him and only wearing a scrap of red lace to cover your lower half. He presses your breasts together, bunching the round full globes together before swiping a thumb over the puffy nipples until they start to harden. He finishes the job by enclosing his mouth over one of them and then the other, sucking and nibbling on those stiffening points until they tighten into sensitive, rigid peaks.

It’s not unusual for you to be wrapped around your boyfriend’s body, his slim yet muscular limbs grasping you like a vice, on a Friday afternoon. You don’t have classes on the last day of the week, only a morning shift as a writing tutor at the student center, and Jimin only has his Philosophy discussion on Fridays, led by the course’s TA. The two of you always find your ways back to each other on this day, hence, making up for the lost time over the rest of the week.

Today, you met him for lunch at the Panda Express on campus and then walked back with him to your apartment. Which brings us back to now – Jimin with his shirt off, only wearing the sky blue jeans that make his ass look divine, hovering over your body with his overly long, steel colored bangs falling into his eyes as he sucks on your tits and hums absentmindedly.

The two of you have come to prefer your place over his for moments like these. In freshman year, you were in a triple in the dorms while he had a double with Kim Taehyung, so you two would usually find yourselves fooling around in random empty classrooms in the Physics department. In sophomore year, you lived in your sorority which had much stricter rules than the apartment Jimin had gotten with a couple of his friends. But this year, Jimin is living in his fraternity and you are the one with the apartment which you don’t have to share with anyone. You’ve slept over at the frat before; Beta Tau Sigma doesn’t care if they have girls over, but sometimes you both prefer the privacy here. Jimin and you are usually insatiable; two and a half years together and you’re both still exceeding horny when it comes to each other, and if Jimin’s frat knew how often you two actually were fucking rather than doing anything else, they would never let him live it down as they hurled teasing but impressed compliments his way.

“Jimin?” you murmur, tightening your grip to tilt his head upwards so he can meet your gaze.

Jimin looks at you, heated dark brown eyes under hooded eyelids, his soft silvery hair a rumpled mess clinging to his forehead. “I love you,” he mutters, locking his eyes with yours, pushing his lips out into a puckered pout that eagerly seek yours.

Fuck. He’s so hot.

You move your head towards his and sigh as your lips meet. Jimin slots his lips over yours again and again, their plush pillowiness feeling like heaven against your mouth. He languidly darts his tongue out to press against your lips until they part enough that he can slip it inside. As your tongues twine together, Jimin sucks on yours, his cheeks hollowing out. A moan slips out from you, unbidden as you’re unable to control your urges around this man. One would think that time would make it easier for you, make you less susceptible to the temptation that was Park Jimin, but they would be wrong.

You still make a valiant effort to pull away from him, breaking apart from the kiss. You press your palm against his chest, flush against the Nevermind tattoo crawling up the right side of his torso, to keep him from drawing even closer to you although his grip around your waist keeps you from getting too far.

“Jimin,” you whine trying to engage your boyfriend into conversation.

The male lets his face fall into your chest, banging his forehead lightly against your sternum, “No,” he protests, his straight, dark eyebrows getting pushed together as he furrows his forehead. “Lemme kiss you. I just wanna spend time with you here in your bed until I’m forced to leave and help the Beta Tau Sigma set up for the haunted house. You’ll let me fuck you, won’t you baby?” he needles, “We have all night to talk.”

You scowl, not that he can see it, and push him off of you. Jimin rolls his body around, flopping next to you in bed, immediately wincing when he notices your narrowed eyes. “What is it, Y/N? What’s wrong?” He asks it sweetly and it seems at odds with how his previous sentence caught your ire and made you instantly see red.

“Why do you never want to talk to me?” you demand, crossing your hands over your bare breasts. You irately sweep your long mess of dark hair over your shoulder to let it hang down your back.

You barely got to speak to him this week; when you delivered a bag of hot tofu stew and rice to the study room he had booked, he snapped at you when you hung around, though you were only planning on sticking around long enough to kiss Jimin and force him to put down his books to eat. But this feels different from how Jimin goes radio silent during the weeks when he has a heavy school load filled with studying for exams. Both of you were done with midterms. You wouldn’t have tests again until finals. Jimin even made up his mind to come out and celebrate Halloween with you and his frat, even though he has his Autumn showcase the next evening.

You don’t know if you’re being entirely too sensitive but you don’t like this. It’s hurtful that Jimin says he doesn’t want to talk to you right now—right?

Jimin stares at you, pink mouth wide open as he looks aghast. “I know. I messed up. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have worded it like that, but you know I love talking to you. That’s all we ever do, baby. I text you more out of everyone. I facetime you at all hours of the day. It’s never ever a silent meal when we’re eating together. And I love every bit of it. You know that, right? Y/N, I just. Baby, I miss you. I haven’t seen you all week. I want physical intimacy with you, not just emotional.”

Your frown softens. Fuck, you are being overemotional. He’s right. He’s a great boyfriend. He always tries his best to stay close to you and make your relationship seem special. You were especially craving Jimin’s soft words after so long without (or so it felt, anyways), said in that husky yet sweet toned drawl, fanning over your heated skin as he delivered them with hard kisses from his plush, Bratz doll-esque lips. Your love language was words of affirmation, after all. But in that way, perhaps Jimin needed to slowly ease his way back into talking to you. He did get frighteningly shy. Your sweet loveable boyfriend grew quiet and uncomfortable with people, even those he had known his entire life if he hadn’t seen them for a while. It never took him too long to get back into the flow of his old ways, but he was always a little awkward at the beginning. How had you forgotten that?

You bite your lips as you frown and you let yourself get wrapped in his embrace again, remembering that Jimin craved physical intimacy with you and that that was his love language. For a moment, you allow yourself to enjoy the warmth from his hold, cherishing the way he buries his nose into your crown and tenderly drops light kisses on the top of your head while you attempt to calm your breathing and reign in your emotions. This has nothing to do with him. You’re overreacting.

Striving for a lighthearted tone, you let out a hopefully airy laugh that doesn’t ring too hollow. You brush your fingers along his spine, where you can feel the ring of bones going up his back, softly letting your fingertips tickle his sensitive skin.

“We’ll have sex, I promise. I just need to talk to you about tonight first, before I forget.”

“What’s there to talk about, babe? You got me the costume; I’ll wear it and show up to the Pi Beta Phi manor and we’ll win the thing. And then we go over to my frat to go through the haunted house.”

There were multiple reasons why Jimin walked you home today, but the most important one in your eyes is to pick up his Halloween costume. You have grand aspirations of winning the costume contest at the function your sorority is holding. The winner of the couple event will not only get a month off of required duties at the sorority but also a weekend stay at a fancy hotel room in the city. You are so tired of the mac n cheese lunches they held for philanthropy events. You gain ten pounds, or so it feels, each time. And the date parties? The themes are always so weird and unique that you have to buy a completely new outfit for yourself each time because you can’t reuse anything that was already in your closet. That’s not even the worst of it but you’ve gotten your point across. This sorority is bleeding you dry.

“Ugh, the haunted house,” you groan, burrowing your face into Jimin’s shoulder. His skin is warm and flushed, but he smells amazing and his hugs always give you the instant boost of serotonin you desperately need. Which you now need more than ever. Tonight has to be good for both of you.

Jimin thinks you’re only upset because you hate being scared and bemoans, “Hey! You said that if I let you pick the costumes you would come with me to my Beta Tau’s event too. It’s not Jack and Sally, is it?” His lower lip juts out into a pout that you’re too distracted to notice.

“I thought you guys would throw a Halloween party,” you grumbled.

“We’re doing that too, babe. It’s just half the first floor and all of the second floor we’re converting.”

You suddenly remember the second part of Jimin’s question which makes you laugh lightly, more genuinely this time, before pressing a soft kiss against his throat, “Sorry, ’Min, I didn’t have time to hand make costumes for The Nightmare Before Christmas. Next time, okay? I still think this is good. We could win.”

“What is it?” he asks, sounding full of suspicion. But his attention is wavering again and he’s more focused on groping your ass and pulling on your red lace panties before they snap back softly against your skin.

“You’ll see when you get ready,” you murmur, “But, Jimin,” you hedge.

“Hmm?” He's not paying attention at all. Not when he gets to grip at your luscious hips and squeeze your juicy ass.

“I need you to look very sexy. Pull out all the stops when you’re getting ready, baby.” It’s not that Jimin doesn’t look good when he doesn’t put in effort. He has a casual beauty that is heightened by his effortless style. But you need him to look lethal. Park Jimin when he wants to slay is a whole other kind of demon, one that you are glad is your boyfriend. You would cry if you got to see Jimin looking fine as hell but he wasn’t going home with you.

He bends his neck, nuzzling his face into your chest again, “Sure thing, baby. I won’t forget. Do you need to do my makeup? Should I just ditch helping with the setup?”

You tighten your grip, “Stay with me. Fuck Beta Tau Sigma.”

He chortles, letting out peals of pleasured laughter, “Babe. I wish.” Jimin’s so fucking cute, you wanna pat his head and thus you immediately do so, not even attempting to curb the urge, and then you finger comb back his silver gray locks that you had twisted into a mess earlier.

“No, you don’t need any face makeup, unless you want to. You just need to look hot and be shamelessly confident. Maybe you can channel Seokjin?” you suggest. You heard that Seokjin has a nautical themed costume to wear tonight. If he’s going as a sexy merman that bares all, then Jimin could probably stand to borrow some of his confidence.

Jimin narrows his eyes, looking affronted, tightening his grip on one asscheek before spanking it loudly, “I don’t need to channel Seokjin hyung when I can channel myself, Y/N.”

“Okay, okay,” you easily acquiesce, your own hand moving down to your backside and attempting to rub the reddened flesh. “You’re right, but… remember to do that please.”

“Okay, I don’t get all this remembering business. Y/N, I always look hot,” Jimin tilts his head looking down at you, “What the fuck are you dressing me up as, dude?”

You blink. “Something sexy?”

“Then explain your comment or I’m pushing you off me. You don’t deserve me or my body,” he sasses, already with his hands on your shoulders, prepared to throw you off. “Y/N, you do think I’m the hottest guy you’ve ever seen or been with, right?”

You nervously giggle and lightly scream. How the fuck do you explain that you need Jimin to pull off a very specific look without spoiling the surprise and telling him what it is? “Of course, I think you’re the most attractive man that’s ever lived. Jimin, you are pure aesthetic excellence,” you quickly interject.

“You know how there are several kinds of attractive men? I need you to put on the costume first and let that influence how you do your hair. Like remember when we watched 50 Shades of Grey and you said you were Christian Chim Chim. Don’t fucking do that shit. I need—oh shit, you’re right. I need you to channel yourself. Baby, when you pick your filter for tonight, I need you to be the frattiest, most cocky, and confident fuckboy ever. Give your entire frat a run for their money. Baby, you need to be able to get any guy or girl. That Jimin. The one that bagged me. Be that Jimin.”

“Wow, I didn’t think you were going in that direction,” he laughs, sheepishly, “I came at you too hard. Of course, I know my girlfriend is fucking attracted to me. Sorry, babe, my head isn’t right this week.”

You look up at Jimin, “What’s wrong?” the words aren’t delivered lovingly – no, they’re delivered like a threat; like you’re fully prepared to go find the bitch or asshole who knocked down Jimin’s self esteem and tear them a new one. Nobody gets to hurt your baby like that. Not even you. And if you did do it, accidentally, you would usually wallow in a pool of despair ,begging for Jimin’s forgiveness while at the same time knowing you didn’t deserve it.

And that had only happened once and only because you didn’t know that his hand size was a trigger for him. They’re bigger than yours by a centimeter, though his pinky is about a millimeter or two smaller and you had laughed about how you found it funny that your pinky was longer. But then you cried yourself to sleep when you noticed that Jimin had gone quiet for the rest of the date and didn’t even bother to kiss you goodnight before leaving.

Right now, Jimin snorts, “I’m just being dramatic. Jungkook said I looked like a hot mess this week. And I know that my hair looked like a haystack and my clothes weren’t coordinated, but it’s not like I had time to blow dry my hair or plan outfits or even breathe.”

“Well, Jungkook’s an ugly jock, so what does he know about sexiness?” you scowl, “Stupid fucker with his big, ugly muscles and his meatheaded coconut shaped skull.”

“I have muscles,” Jimin interrupts, rolling the two of you around again until he's caging you under his body. His hands are right by your ears, fingers splayed out and his 13 tattoo looks so starkly black from where it is on his flexed left wrist. The devious male smirks before he subtly rolls his hips into you, hard zipper from the denim pressing against your messy and flushed front.

“Sexy muscles,” you sigh immediately, “Jungkook wishes he looked like you.”

He bites down on his lower lip to hide his smile but it still breaks free, the curve of his lips curling up as it spreads wide to show how happy he is. “Pretty girl,” he mumbles, “I want to destroy you but you’re too sweet.”

At that, your legs immediately surge upwards to cross over his ass, thighs hugging either side of his hips while meeting those shallow rolls of his. You gyrate your own hips until you can get your folds perfectly aligned with his zipper and his cock beneath it, an angry hard length that’s desperate to break free.

Jimin inhales loudly, a sharp sound that makes your skin breakout with goosebumps even with your warm skin pressed against his hot flushed one. You’re hyper aware of his every move and sound. When he moves his hands over your ass-cheeks, palming them, his dexterous fingers are restless as they seek to make you whimper and keen before he squeezes your ass, pushing you up to draw your hips to him until your pelvis is flush against his. He grasps you so tightly that there’s barely a hairsbreadth of space in between the two of you. Jimin loves going commando and his cock head breaches the waistband of his jeans, the tip stabbing you in the belly button because of its monstrous length.

He’s looking down at you with his eyelids hooded. His blackened eyes are dark from desire, the pupils so blown out you can barely make out the brown irises that edge them. The heat terrifies you but also makes you yearn for more, and you haphazardly move your face in the direction of his, almost missing his mouth as you sloppily join lips together. Your arms go up, twining around his neck, both your hands have their fingers buried in his gunmetal colored locks, palms supporting and cradling the back of his head lovingly.

His jaw almost crashes into your chin as he vigorously leans into the kiss, greedily inhaling through his nose, reluctant to pull apart from your mouth as he keeps swiping his lips over yours, sucking at your plump lower lip and nibbling at your cupid’s bow, before he eases you into opening your mouth again. All the while he’s got a hold on your ass, using it to further push you into him instead of crashing down on you, suffocating you with his heavy weight and pressing you into the mattress. The act is thoughtful, though born out of desperation, and your fronts collide with each other, your breasts clinging to his chest as your hardened nipples brush against his metal adorned ones. You hiss when you feel the round ends of his piercings drag against your soft skin, dimpling into them when you’re pushed even tighter against Jimin.

One of Jimin’s hands wander from your ass to clench your thigh, gripping your smooth, supple flesh as his fingers, with the nails slightly grown out since he had forgotten to cut them this week, dig into your skin while he pulls your legs apart and bucks against you. It’s not hard enough to truly hurt but his fingernails do leave temporary red crescent indentations and make you whimper from the tiny bit of pain.

Your tongue, meanwhile, is still roving around Jimin’s mouth and brushes over his reddened swollen lips, and you can taste the mint from the Listerine strip he had dissolved on his tongue after lunch, as well as the peach flavored lip balm he had swiped from your book bag. After a particularly hard nip from Jimin’s teeth, you break apart from his lips to let out an embarrassingly loud wanton moan. He doesn’t let a single second go to waste as he drags his lips along your jaw, nibbling along the way as he moves lower in the direction of your throat. Once there, he bites roughly at the sensitive skin above the hollow of your neck, sucking on it harshly until it leaves a blossoming mark of reds and violets. As he darts his tongue out to soothe the aching flesh, he sneakily dips it into the hollow of your neck and then your collarbones as well, messily licking up the flushed expanse of your skin.

Jimin soon finds his way back to your cherished breasts that he loves so ardently. As he wraps his mouth around a still angrily reddened and tender nipple, you make your hand sneak in between the two of your abdomens, not playing the role of an idle participant. Your hand grips at the front of his pants, holding his cock against your palm as your thumb rubs at its swollen head. You stop your movement over his dick to turn your attention to undoing his button and Jimin growls out in frustration, biting down on your soft underboob, leaving a half circle of teeth marks.

“Chill, baby,” you soothe him, and as soon as you free his cock from its confines, your hand tightly grasps the member to stroke it.

The tight, suctioning grip of your fingers and palm around his heated shaft makes him sigh lewdly in relief as his eyes flutter closed in ecstasy, his long dark eyelashes fanning the apples of his cheeks. He slumps against you, his sweaty forehead pressed against yours as one of his dampened locks of hair falls over his left eye. His nose brushes against yours, and if you wanted, you could place gentle open mouthed kisses on his slightly parted lips, but you ignore them to focus on his cock, while Jimin turns his attention to wetly press his mouth against your cheek and then your jaw.

His moans go up a pitch, filling your ears with his musical sounds of pleasure. Biting your bottom lip, your teeth sinking into it as you press your forehead against Jimin’s even harder, you switch up your form and go to fondle his balls with your nimble fingers. As you tug on them, Jimin lets out an anguished sound that's a cross between agony and elation.

“Y/N, don’t. Don’t tease me. Please?” he begs, “I haven’t had time to get off all week. Baby, please. I’m gonna blow my load. Let me fuck you, beautiful.”

You quit teasing him and instead, your hands got to his waistband on either side, fully determined to shove his pants down his thighs. You don’t even need them down fully, just enough so that Jimin could fuck you without any complications.

He backs up from you and you sigh in discontentment the second Jimin’s flushed peaches n’ cream skin is no longer clinging to yours as the male hops off your bed to tear his jeans fully off his legs. He struggles a little, jumping lightly as the tight material clings to his sweaty thighs and you almost swoon when you see his ass jiggle. What was that thing Doja Cat said? Oh yes, “if you could see it from the front wait till you can see it from the back.” And you can definitely see Jimin’s from the front while also confirming that yes, the backside view is even more mouthwatering.

The pants successfully taken off and thrown to a far corner of the room, Jimin immediately hurls his whole body onto the bed, catching himself with those toned arms whose biceps have started to look shockingly large in the past couple of months and made you demand Jimin carry you everywhere around because he was definitely strong enough to. The thought makes you smile and you immediately smack a kiss against Jimin’s lips because he always carried you whenever you asked.

“Hi, baby,” he whispers against your lips, nuzzling his nose against yours. His thick thighs are bracketing yours as Jimin hovers above your lap, his cock bobbing against your pelvis and its head getting caught onto your lace underwear as it soaks it with precum. As he pulls your panties off, he asks, “Can I keep these? I’ll return them to you later. Hand washed and folded.”

You snicker, “Sicko,” teasing him, but then you press your lips against his before they can droop down into a frown. “Yeah, go ahead, baby. Thanks for remembering that they don’t go into the washer.”

And then you and Jimin are finally getting to the main event. Bare as always, because while you had been on the pill since you were fifteen, Jimin and you hadn’t started having condomless sex until the third month of dating. But once you started, you never went back. Your clit doesn’t need much to get it going and you’re already gushing like a broken faucet so Jimin thrusts his cock into you without much pomp or circumstance. As always, you gasp at the intrusion. Not only does your boyfriend have a sizable length, but he’s also girthy as hell and whenever he first fills you up, he takes your breath away.

According to Jimin, it’s because you don’t work out and you’re possibly asthmatic. At that you always smack the back side of his head and tell him no, it’s grossly romantic that he can take your breath away with his fine ass dick game, and your lung capacity is fine for someone who wasn’t in the church choir for twelve years. Yes, your boyfriend is a former church boy. If only Father Thomas could see how low he had fallen. But compliments about Jimin’s dick always makes the cocky, pun intended, jerk smirk like a self-satisfied Cheshire cat and giggle adorably. He is a stunning contradiction of a man. Sometimes you want to suffocate him with your thighs, other times with a pillow.

He shallowly thrusts in you once, twice before he unexpectedly takes almost his entire dick out of your folds before slamming back into you so vigorously that it makes your thighs quiver, wrapped as they are around his waist. He’s so deep in you that you can feel the clean shaven base of his cock pressed against your mons. From there on it’s a frantic joining of the two of your bodies as Jimin furiously pounds into you, letting out all of his frustrations from the past week onto your body in the form of turbulent love making. You hold on for dear life, clutching onto his broad shoulders as your mouth slides against Jimin’s ear, softly whispering how much you love him and how you’ll always be there for him and how there’s no one else in the world more perfectly suited for you than your beloved boyfriend.

When he finally cums into you, a messy and molten flow of whiteness that paints your insides and then leaks out from the overflow, proof that your poor darling truly didn’t have a moment recently to let off some steam, the male wearily drags his body away from yours so he can return with a damp cloth to clean you up between your legs. As you drowsily look up at him and make grabby hands, he gently slaps them away, before placing a loving kiss on your forehead and brushing back your hair, tucking in a lock behind your ear.

“I need to go, baby,” he bemoans, “But I’ll see you tonight, okay? I’m setting an alarm on your phone to wake you up in an hour so you don’t oversleep and then have to rush to get ready.”

“Sweet baby,” you murmur, locking your arms around his neck and keeping him in place.

“Considerate baby,” Jimin argues, tenderly moving his hands up to encircle your wrists and pull your arms away from him so he’s no longer trapped in your hold. “I love you, Y/N.”

“Love you,” you parrot drowsily, your eyes slowly falling shut as Jimin walks around your room to gather his clothes and then get ready to leave. He remembers to grab the shopping bag from Nordstrom you stuffed his costume in, not that you would ever shop there to buy a one time Halloween costume. It’s more likely that you reused the bag. He squints in confusion when all he sees is a mess of brightly colored fabric within it but he just shrugs, too tired from the sex to work up enough brain power to guess what his costume is. He then heads out the door, not forgetting to lock it behind him.

When you wake up to your annoying ass alarm an hour later—now why the fuck did Jimin use the quacking ducks preset as the ringtone? You feel boneless yet still exhausted. You tiredly drag yourself into the shower to get the smell of sex off your body and wash your hair, though it’s going to be hidden under a wig, just so you can feel squeaky clean before you put on your costume.

You and Jimin are dressing up as Ken and Barbie from Toy Story 3, and in your opinion the costumes don’t look half bad. You were running late with the costume planning in between everything you had on your plate this month but a successful run at the thrift store has given you plenty to work with. You ended up with explosively colored outfits for both of you, although they were more loosely inspired than exact replicas. After all, this is Greek life, you have to amp up the sex appeal for both of your costumes.

For yourself, this means that instead of wearing Barbie’s electric blue jumpsuit, you are wearing a bright turquoise bodysuit with a deep plunging neckline that divides your bust in two and goes all the way to your midriff, fortunately keeping your navel concealed even as it dips dangerously low. The pink belt that goes around Barbie’s waist is instead a hot pink belted choker around your neck but you are rocking the green, white, pink, and blue 80s inspired leg warmers she was wearing as well as patent leather stiletto pumps in the same pink as your collar. Your look is finished off with a wild blue smokey eye and iridescent pale pink lips, and after you are done with your makeup, you struggle to make your synthetic blond wig not look completely awful on your head.

As you leave for Pi Beta Phi, you grab your purse, keys, and phone but a quick step outside reveals that the weather has gone unexpectedly chilly, making you rush back to the apartment and grab the first piece of outerwear you see – which happens to be Jimin’s oversized light colored denim jacket he left in your apartment two weeks ago.

It’s probably for the best that you’re wearing the jacket, you think to yourself as you wobbly make your way across the hilly sidewalks that lead to Greek row in your stiletto heels. Your entire ass is out in the leotard-esque bodysuit and had you not been wearing a coat, the boys walking behind you surely would’ve gotten quite the show all the way uphill.

At the house, your sisters are busily running around making sure everything is perfect and ready for the party. They have made Pi Phi manor look great, although it leans towards the glitzy and glam side of decorations rather than the cute and spooky side. Black and orange is prominent throughout the entire house however, with the grand staircase railing done up with black poofy garlands and glittery orange streamers. You sign yourself and Jimin for the costume contest and then grab a red solo cup of apple cider – non-alcoholic since sororities aren't allowed to serve substances on their grounds, thanks to a decidedly sexist rule that never gets changed no matter how many elections pass – before heading back outside to watch the costumed guests walk up.

Your sisters and their guests are hanging around the cute little games that were set up on the grass. There’s a beanbag toss where the bags are all white and decorated with the faces of various mischievous ghosts as well as a cider bottle toss. You know that your boyfriend will get excited by the pumpkin smash station so you pointedly walk far away from it to the other side of the lawn where you see a couple of your friends surrounding the giant tin containers that have been set up for apple bobbing. Jimin’s fraternity brothers Seokjin and Namjoon are on their knees, since the basins are too low for their tall statures, while Namjoon’s girlfriend cheers for them as Jungkook simultaneously jeers them on.

Seokjin is dressed in a sailor costume that leaves little to the imagination. He has a peaked captain’s cap placed jauntily on his dark brown hair while his slutty outfit consists of white suspenders strapped onto navy skin clinging short shorts. A white and navy striped sailor collar hangs over his Pacific Ocean wide shoulders that ties in the front with the two floppy end pieces bouncing against his pecs from any sudden movements. Apparently, you were mistaken when you had thought that his nautical nod for the night meant that he would be a sexy merman. Seokjin seems to prefer a slutty sailor. His hands are clasped behind his back as he bends down to bite down on an apple.

Namjoon on the other hand is fully prepared for the costume contest in a TV accurate depiction of Khal Drogo. You don’t doubt for a second that it was his girlfriend’s idea as the brown girl is dressed as Daenerys Targaryen and looks picture perfect as the mother of dragons with her freshly bleached hair. She keeps rubbing her hands over Namjoon’s bare shoulders and back as the male bobs for his own apple, all while keeping the lookout for Jungkook with narrowed eyes since the male seems dead set on shoving one of his hyungs’ heads underwater.

Just as Jungkook nudges Seokjin into the steel bucket of water with his knee, you hear someone shout your name. You look towards the sidewalk where Jimin’s walking up, looking like the perfect Ken from Toy Story 3 and you immediately dart away from your friends to jump into his arms.

“Jimin,” you hum, kissing his cheek as your arms tighten around his neck. The male strengthens the hold he has on your thighs, holding you more securely against him as he walks the two of you back to the apple bobbing crew.

“Y/N, what is your costume?” he asks while perplexedly scrunching his slightly pinkened face up, flushed from the biting cold air of the autumn night, as he easily sets you down and looks at the denim jacket swallowing your frame and the blonde wig that seems strangely out of place, “Now I’m even less sure of who I’m meant to be.”

You stare at Jimin. He’s wearing the brightly colored abstract print shirt completely open, letting you stare at his sunkissed rock hard abdominal muscles as well as the platinum bars that decorated his pecs. You sneakily stretch your hand forward so that you can possessively press your palm against his Nevermind tattoo and he snorts, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and squeezing you close to him. Your eyes make their way from his face to his neck where he haphazardly tied the blue bandana you got for him, the shade matching the exact color of your bodysuit. You untie it and redo it for him in a perfect Ascot knot.

“You’re Ken from Toy Story 3,” you explain, “It was hard finding the right shirt though,” you pout cutely at him.

Jimin tucks his hands into the small pockets of the light blue shorts he is wearing, cuffed to be even shorter. You forgot to account for how bootylicious Jimin is or how thick his thighs are because the cloth is tighter than you anticipated, clinging to his lower half like a second skin. You frown, biting your lip, no one better stare at his ass, suddenly possessed by jealousy. This peach is for your viewing pleasure only.

“Barbie doesn’t dress like that,” Jimin nods at his jacket, clearly indicating that he wants you to take it off so he can see what you’ve got on underneath.

“I was cold,” you defend yourself, but you slip off the outerwear and give it to the male to hold onto.

Jimin narrows his eyes as he walks around you to get the full 360° view, taking his chance to smack your ass lightly when he’s behind you. “You can put the coat back on if you’re cold,” he says nicely, sounding chivalrous though you know it’s more likely because he is just as possessive of your ass as you are of his, and both of your cheeks are practically hanging out due to the high cut of the leotard.

“Nice costume, hyung,” Jungkook nods in Jimin’s direction, handing him off an apple he clearly swiped from the game.

“Thanks,” Jimin snorts, putting the apple into your pocket instead of having it rest against his warm thighs in his shorts’ pockets. “What the hell are you supposed to be?”

Jungkook is shirtless and wearing a pair of crimson colored hot pants. You don’t have a damn clue what he is meant to be either. “The devil.”

“Where are your horns,” you scoff, crossing your arms as you narrow your eyes at him, very visibly and judgmentally looking him up and down, unimpressed by his lack of effort.

At that Jungkook’s eyes widen as he frantically pats the top of his curly black locks, “Shit, Sooyeon is gonna kill me.” And with that the male disappears into the fray, heading back into the sorority house to find the headpiece to his costume.

Jimin smiles, rocking back and forth on his feet, “I saw a jar of candy corn. If I guess the amount in it correctly or get the closest to it, I get to keep the jar.”

“Jimin, you hate candy corn,” you complain as you take his hand and allow him to pull you through the party so that you guys can walk around and see all the attractions.

“I could donate it. Or,” your boyfriend pauses, lower lip getting bitten as his brows become furrowed, “Halloween’s actually on Sunday. I could give it to the trick or treaters.”

“Children come by to the frat to get candy?!” you shriek, aghast at the thought. Those poor kids, getting scarred for life. The thought of them witnessing the shenanigans that Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook get up to has you distressed.

“Actually, we have a little event we do at the local elementary school. We play games. They show a PG-rated spooky movie in the auditorium and there’s little goodie bags we made earlier this week with individually wrapped candy and ghost and pumpkin stickers,” Jimin rambles, his cheeks going up and his eyes getting all squinty as he excitedly explains to you.

A soft smile overtakes your face as well, “That’s really sweet, Jimin, but what if you don’t end up doing anything with the candy corn because you forget? Wish it were jelly beans. Or even gummy worms.”

“I would do so well, though,” he grumbles, running a veiny hand through his silver locks, pushing the strands back and off of his forehead, “I’d win.”

“I know you would. You’re really good at estimating, but since we both know you’d win... Do we really need a 6 pound jar of waxy corn syrup flavored junk?”

“Disgusting,” mutters Jimin, and then he gently swings your attached arms back and forth as you both go deeper into the fray.

There’s a Quidditch themed butterbeer pong game that you’re pretty sure has been illegally set up, that you and Jimin spend most of your time at, drinking the disgusting butterscotch flavored soda – when you’re not at the snacks table eating the Southern bbq your sorority had catered, as well as all the sickeningly sweet seasonally appropriate desserts your sisters had either baked or bought.

Slightly sluggish from your full tummies, you guys finally go up to the cute little section inside the front entrance to the house where the formerly giant open space has been turned into a little stage with seats for the audience wishing to watch the costume party. Your Pi Beta Phi president, Sariya, is waving her little bedazzled orange and purple gavel like she thinks she’s a judge requesting order in the courtroom. You and Jimin speed walk your ways to getting seats in the far back, where you can make a quick escape if necessary.

You guys make it through several of the costumes, the highlights being Jisoo, Lisa, Jennie, and Rosé being dressed up as the teletubbies; Namjoon and his girlfriend providing steep competition as a Dothraki and Daenerys although you don’t think they’re going to win since pretty much everyone hated the last season of “Game of Thrones;” and several groups and couples embarrassingly dressing like characters from the ever popular Squid Game which is 2021’s version of how literally every couple dressed like Harley Quinn and the Joker from “Suicide Squad” in 2016. Then, it’s finally time for you and Jimin to hit the stage. You pull off the denim jacket and put it on a chair off to the side of the stage before you rush to catch up to your boyfriend and walk on stage with him hand in hand.

Your sorority’s chapter president announces that the two of you are dressed up as Barbara “Barbie” Roberts and Kenneth Carson as the two of you spin around and do little twirls to let everyone see your costumes from all angles. This is met with a second of split silence since no one knows the iconic Mattel couple’s full names but then she continues to tack on, “Barbie and Ken from Toy Story 3!” At that the audience is wracked with cheers since the third movie has always been the fan favorite out of the franchise. Though it could have easily been just as likely that they were screaming at how much skin you and Jimin were both revealing. The two of you skip off the stage feeling pretty secure about your victory since the cheers for you two were the loudest they’ve been all night.

“I think it helps that you have such nice muscles and proportions, you look like the perfect male,” you smirk as you feel your way up Jimin’s chest, smoothing your palm over his abs and flicking one of his nipples. Your/Jimin’s jacket is hanging in the crook of your other arm, you’re reluctant to put it back on until after your victory lap from being announced as the winners.

Jimin immediately grabs you by the wrist after the nip flick, “Don’t do that,” he reprimands gently and then he pulls you into his arms, resting his chin on your shoulder and trapping your arms under his embrace so your sly hands can’t feel him up some more. He has the two of you facing the stage as Jungkook and his girlfriend Sooyeon take the stage. Jungkook’s in the aforementioned bright red booty shorts but has somehow managed to find his devil horns and is using a red silicone spatula as a pitchfork. His girlfriend is dressed in a white lace babydoll nightie from Victoria’s secret and has a fuzzy white halo on, though her wings are nowhere to be seen.

“Who would vote for that,” scoffs Seokjin, materializing next to you two from out of nowhere, making Jimin let out a surprised shriek that he attempts to conceal by turning it into a deep grunt. “He stole that spatula from our kitchen.”

Yeah, all of you are judging their costumes hard. It’s easily the outfits where the least amount of effort was made. Every single person dressed as a Squid Game character looks better than them. Unlike you and Seokjin, who are embroiled in a heavy discussion of Halloween costumes, Jimin is distracted as he contemplates how to get snacks and get back to you before the announcement is made. When his perusal of the space makes his eyes catch on two gentlemen looking you up and down, their gazes trapped to your chest, he immediately makes you put the jacket back on. You smile at him thanking him, because God, there’s nothing worse than creepy unwanted attention. Like, why can’t men ever let you be a baddie in peace?

When the winner gets announced ten minutes later as Jungkook and Sooyeon, you start screeching and attempt to run up to the stage to fight the judges. Jimin, knowing what would happen if you lost, grabs a hold of you and hugs you to his chest as you kick and squirm. When you break a hold of Jimin’s grasp to lodge the apple from Jungkook that had remained in your jacket pocket this entire time at the aforementioned male, Jimin grabs onto you again, tightening his arms around you and locking you against him even harder. Beside you two, Namjoon is similarly enraged, having found the group with his girlfriend after the announcements were made. He says it screams rigged since Sooyeon is the chapter vice president, and his girlfriend lets him rant to her though it’s clear from the way she’s undressing his already half naked body with her eyes, she’s not listening to a word he’s saying.

As you glare at Jungkook, giving him a stink eye from where he’s accepting the dumb little trophy on stage, Jimin takes the chance to hike you up over his shoulder as he carries you away from the sorority. He keeps dragging your jacket down to cover your cute butt from where it is beside his head, not only because it distracts him while he’s walking but also because he doesn’t want any other perverts looking at it. Jimin is the only pervert that’s allowed to openly fawn over you.

You let him carry you this way halfway down the street before you start squirming and tell him you can walk by yourself. The male hesitantly lowers you beside him, watching you with narrowed eyes as you stalk forward, growling under your breath about stupid nepotism and how you could never hold a more important role at your sorority because you weren’t a legacy Pi Phi, wishing you had a dozen more apples you could aim at Jungkook and Sooyeon’s heads.

“Hey,” Jimin protests as he runs ahead to catch up to you, “Community outreach chair is very important too, Y/N. Don’t undersell yourself just because Sooyeon got all her friends to vote for her.”

“It’s not fair, Jimin—” you cut yourself off, clearly holding back the meaner things you wanted to say. Instead, you change the subject, “Are we really going to the haunted house, Jimin? Last year you abandoned me in a corn maze.”

“I didn’t abandon you,” Jimin argues immediately, still disagreeing with you a year later, his brown eyes glinting as he rolls them at you, “You got lost… in a maze… because it’s a maze. They’re designed that way.”

“You let go of my hand,” you pout, your lower lip quivering, the pale sparkly lipstick making it look like your mouth is covered in fairy dust.“You left me. I still have nightmares. I found a random ass crop circle. I was literally seconds away from being abducted by aliens,” You declare dramatically before then crossing your arms, frowning deeply though you don’t change paths and continue to walk in the direction of his fraternity.

“I won’t do that this time, Y/N, I promise. And this is just a basic frat run haunted house. It won't be anything like Halloween Horror Nights at Universal Studios. Hobi hyung and Yoongi hyung got dragged into playing the role of the scarers. Hobi hyung is dressed as Edward Scissorhands but honestly, do you really think he is the type of person who is good at scaring others?” Jimin has to admit he had to bite his tongue to keep himself from snorting the second you mentioned the crop circle and aliens. You are literally the most paranoid person he knows. Even worse than Hobi hyung although he knows you’ll disagree.

You furrow your brows, they got the resident scaredy cat Jung Hoseok to participate in the haunted house? Hoseok’s fear tolerance is much lower than yours. Last year, you and he ended up alone in Jimin’s apartment while Jimin went downstairs to pick up the pizza delivery and Hoseok ended up screaming his head off when the two of you saw a giant spider on the ceiling. He demanded that as his junior, you kill the creature – which you tried, but it only resulted in failure. After all, Jimin is the one that kills bugs in your relationship. When Jimin came back into the apartment, half of it was burned down from the two of your attempts. Well… not really, but you are exaggerating to make a point.

“Come on, Y/N, one quick run through the house and then we can go to my room on the next floor. I bought you snacks and we can watch Nightmare Before Christmas together,” he suggests biting down on his lip.

“Fine,” you whine, stomping with one of your pink leather encased feet, “But this time, no letting go of me!” And with that you speedily shuffle into Jimin’s arms and make him awkwardly walk with you the rest of the way since it felt like you two were practically conjoined with how close you remain to him the entire time.

“It’s going to be fun, Y/N,” Jimin murmurs as he takes out the tickets he got for you two earlier in the evening and hands them off to Taehyung who is manning the entrance as the clown from It. He has a face full of white makeup on and had even drawn on Pennywise’s terrifying red smile with the crimson paint running through his cheeks to cut right across his eyes and go into his forehead in two curvy lines from the end of his smile. The male had teased his blond hair into the shape of the dancing clown’s iconic hair before spraying with temporary orange hair chalk.

“For you,” you grumble, pointedly stepping around Jimin to his other side to avoid Taehyung and his unnerving costume, “But as long as you play the role of my dashing protective knight in shining armor, I shall try to persist.”

Beta Tau Sigma is the first male fraternity that was founded in your university. Though their massive mansion gets major renovations every five to ten years, the Victorian structure was built in the 1800s. So when the boys convert it into a spooky haunt, it is successfully terrifying.

From the moment you step in, fog clouds the interior, making you clamber to Jimin’s side, pressing into him when you can’t see more than five feet ahead of you clearly. To your utter dismay, the frat’s brothers have taken advantage of the location’s history and how it houses so many young individuals and made that the central theme for night. It is designed like a cross between an asylum and a school for troubled minds and Yoongi leaps out scaring the living shit out of you three minutes into your traipse through the first floor, dressed up as Hannibal Lector in his bright orange prison garb and tiger-esque hockey mask.

Jimin is, of course, unfazed. He stares at Yoongi with a wry lopsided smirk gracing his lips before striking a conversation with his hyung. You try to justify your reaction, and Jimin’s lack thereof, by convincing yourself that your boyfriend didn’t react because he already saw Yoongi today in his costume and you hadn’t, so your jump, followed by the screech that had you ducking your head into Jimin’s chest, was a reasonable reaction.

“Do you think I would be less scared if I closed my eyes and had you blindly direct me through this place?” you ask, seriously considering it, quickly flapping your shimmery blue lids shut.

“Don’t do that, Y/N, it’ll make the music seem even louder to you,” Jimin warns, as he gently pushes you forward so that the two of you can now make it up the stairs to the second floor.

Your neck hairs stand at his words as goosebumps take over your entire body. Now that Jimin has mentioned the music, you can hear the eerie Tethered remix of “I Got 5 On It” as it finishes off and is replaced with a creepy instrumental remix of Melanie Martinez’s “Carousel” as though the playlist is blasting in your ears, attacking your eardrums. “Okay, maybe you’re right. But, Jimin! I hate this,” you cry out, sharply snapping your eyes open, before you gingerly make your way up the stairs.

Each step is covered with fake cobwebs and as you move your legs the giant spider and snake decorations on the banisters and railings start to move, activated by motion sensors and making weird broken noises. It’s definitely not the scariest part of this entire thing but you flinch every time a fuzzy pincer or a plastic reptilian tail brushes against you and you find yourself dashing through the rest of the stairs though Jimin hurriedly calls out for you to wait for him.

At the landing for the next floor, you wait for your boyfriend and when he finally slings an arm around your shoulders, the two of you take off again. This floor has bedrooms, though, and some of the brothers that live on it have given up their spaces to be used as miniature themed scare rooms, though not every door is open and available for the public to walk into. You and Jimin make your way through one of them that has been set up to look like a medical operating room as well as another set up like a bedroom with screaming frat members strapped into beds with metal frames that try to grab you as you wake by them before the trouble starts.

Later, Jimin will say he told you not to move and wait for him while you will argue with him that you heard him say nothing so you moved on like everything was fine and dandy. You’re in a room that looks like an abandoned classroom or something of the sort when things go awry. You won’t be able to appreciate how they converted the study room until months later because you receive the worst fright of your life there.

As you make your way through the desks towards the whiteboard at the front, the lights flicker before turning off completely and then the room, that’s already cold from the air conditioning blasting throughout the entire fraternity, begins to fill with fog. When the lights turn back on five seconds later, you blink, seeing dark spots from the abrupt brightness. As your eyes focus, you let out an earth shattering scream when you notice that there are two grown ass men who are much taller and bigger than you dressed like the Grady Twins from The Shining, brown shoulder length wigs, light blue dresses, white stockings and all, standing two feet away from you looking both incredibly imposing and impossibly threatening.

You fall to the ground and let yourself crumble into a ball, wrapping your arms around your legs as you press your shiny cobalt eye-shadowed eyelids against your icy knees. Jimin bursts into the room a minute later, following the sound of your shriek and immediately drops down on the ground next to you to wrap his arms around you and hugs you to his chest, squishing your face, the part that's not pressed against your knees, against his shoulder. He cradles your head into him as he brushes his hand over your hair several times soothingly.

You can hear him gruffly asking Soobin and Yeonjun to take five and vacate the room. The underclassmen readily do so since Jimin is a vice president of the chapter this year. Unlike your sorority, which has one president and vice president and then several chairs, Jimin’s fraternity has three vice presidents since it has a much larger student body. Namjoon’s the president, of course, while Yoongi is the external vice president with Hoseok dealing with internal affairs. Jimin is the member development vice president and since rush is over, his workload is a little lighter than the other heads’ at the moment.

“Y/N, I told you not to leave me,” he chastises as he somehow manages to pick you up from the ground and carry you as you wrap yourself around his body like a koala, clinging to his front. You burrow your nose, which feels like an icicle, into his collarbone as you tighten your arms around his neck like a noose. Your boyfriend, feeling horrible about your scare, ignores the discomfort that comes from the frosty contact of your skin against his.

As Jimin grasps your thighs more securely, you cross your legs even more tightly over his hips, “You didn’t tell me anything! I thought you were with me the entire time,” you cry out. You have no idea how your mascara and eyeliner are holding up but you hope they keep their waterproof promise as you start to sob again.

He brushes a kiss across the top of your head before he unexpectedly rushes to spit out a plastic strand of hair out of his mouth, having forgotten that you were wearing a wig since it was so dark inside the mansion. “Y/N, I don’t want to play the blame game with you when you’re in distress but, sweetheart, you walked away from me in the corn maze too. Y/N, if I’m going to be holding your hand the entire way through so you don’t get scared, you can’t let go of my hand and then blame me when you get frightened later on,” he harps softly, trying to keep condemnation out of his voice.

You pause your crying to protest, “You let go of my hand!” You still haven’t quite regained your senses and you keep attacking Jimin, whether validly or not… who’s to say? One thing’s for sure: the shock from your fear is keeping you from reacting rationally.

“Y/N, I told you I was going to tie my shoes and to not move, didn’t you hear me?” he asks, walking through the rest of the attractions without any harassment from the scarers. He’s guessing that Soobin and Yeonjun told them to leave the two of you alone, or the sight of Jimin carrying his obviously distressed girlfriend throughout the second floor has the other scarers giving you two a wide breadth. Hoseok even walks in the opposite direction with his cool scissor hands as he sees Jimin going for the next flight of stairs to the floor that has his bedroom.

“I didn’t hear anything, baby,” you mumble honestly, biting on your lip again, the soft waxy pink from your lipstick having long been worn off, “I swear.”

Jimin squeezes you around the middle, “Maybe it was just a misunderstanding,” he seems willing to let it go. He obviously doesn’t want to spend the rest of the night arguing with you.

Though it would have been infinitely easier for him to get his keycard out and open his dorm door if he put you down, Jimin lets you cling to him and one handedly hunts for the card in his wallet and then pushes the door open wide with his back, allowing the two of you to enter.

“I’m gonna set you down on my bed and change out of this costume okay, Y/N?” he asks, “Just because the costume party and this didn’t go as planned doesn’t mean we have to end the night on a bad note, yeah? Take off your shoes and wig, baby, and put Disney+ on. I’m going to get the snacks I bought yesterday out.”

You stare at Jimin, forgetting to do as he’s told you as you gaze enraptured by his handsomeness and natural charisma. As you watch Jimin peel off his multicolored shirt and shorts to abandon them in favor of a pair of black sweats, he mischievously smirks at you, playfully winking and giving a little strip tease which then shifts to him dragging his hand down his bare abdomen as he cutely yet sexily performs a hip roll for you which ends with a violent hip thrust that makes it clear that even with how cold it’s been tonight, the male is already at half-mast and still growing, his arousal undeterred by the chill.

The light smile that has been gracing your face disappears when Jimin sinks to his knees before you to pull your pink leather pumps off and you unexpectedly find yourself bursting into tears, distraught from the immense kindness and care Jimin has shown you tonight. This results in your boyfriend looking sharply up at you in abrupt alarm, puppy eyes widened as a look of deep concern takes over his entire face.

Jimin wiggles his way in between your legs, standing on his knees which make him basically the same height as you even with you sitting on his bed which is much higher. His hands, a little red from earlier outside, are freezing as they palm your cheeks and swipe both of his thumbs under your eyes at the same time to wipe away the fallen tears.

“Y/N, you need to tell me what’s wrong, right now,” your boyfriend stresses as he worries his bottom lip with his teeth, his crooked tooth digging into the plump flesh. As he pulls your blond wig off your hair he continues, “Baby, you’ve been off all day and it’s been getting worse and worse. You’re crying. What is it? Did I break a boundary in the haunted house? You wouldn’t cry over not winning a contest, right?”

You pull the wig cap off your darker natural hair, undoing the bun and finger-combing through it. Your bottom lip quivers as you pointedly look away from Jimin. How can you tell him? It’s your burden, not his. But how can you not tell him? It’s been eating you up inside, keeping it all to yourself.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you confess, pulling Jimin’s hands off you to bury your face in your own as you sob loudly behind your palms. Even as your eyes leak with salty tears you’re unable to control, you know that Jimin’s probably looking at you in bewilderment and possibly a little frustration that he can’t fix this for you since you still haven’t told him what’s wrong. You wish you had a makeup wipe to rub off all the makeup on your face that’s getting muddled from your tears.

“Do what? That sounds like something you say to someone when you want to break up,” he angrily spits out.

That makes you peek out from behind the darkness and protection of your hands. You look at your boyfriend and he looks livid. He looks like you have completely blindsided him and as though he immensely resents you for it. His thick eyebrows are furrowed low and his plump rose colored lips are pressed into thin white lines. His eyes are tinged with red and watery as they hold in unshed tears and glare at you with hard brown irises full of indignation. He has his arms crossed over his bare chest as he backs away from you, standing stiffly as he stares you down and you already know he’s closing up and getting his guard up. Soon, he won’t listen to a word you say.

Shit. No. NO NO NO. You’re panicking immediately, your hand coming up to your mouth but you instantly force it aside, knowing you can’t bite your nails anxiously when your relationship is falling apart right before your eyes.

“Jimin, no—Jimin, I wouldn’t,” you stammer hurriedly, tripping over your words in your rush to get them out fast enough while Jimin still is open to hearing you out.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Why did you have to stumble over your words like this? You can’t even talk properly, you think in disgust. You tried to blurt out your words fast enough so Jimin’s mood doesn’t darken over the heavy misunderstanding even more, but you can’t even speak.

NO! This can’t be happening to you two right now.

Finally you just scream out, the words frantically being pulled from your throat in your incredible frustration and distraughtness, “Jimin, I’m not breaking up with you. I swear to God. Jimin, I swear on my own fucking life, too!” You sob in anguish, “Jimin, please? Listen to me. I swear—I wasn’t thinking when I said that. Baby, please! This has nothing to do with you. Baby, this is just a miscommunication error—Please?” you implore, gulping and gasping in between every inconsolable plea, “I can’t lose you.”

“Tell me right now, Y/N,” Jimin spits out. His words are so hard they pierce through your heart like ice. He’s closing off, you despair. “I am so sick of today, Y/N. Maybe it’s gone on for even longer. I don’t like this month. We can’t continue like this.”

You ignore the anger that prickles through you. It’s not as though this is your fault entirely. He’s the one who is rude to you when you reach out. Maybe you’re more mad about him saying earlier that he didn’t want to talk than you thought. But this isn’t the moment for that fight. You need to rein in your temper and tell him what’s been eating you up inside. That thing with Jimin? It could be dealt with at another time.

You exhale shakily. It’s loud and uneven but you manage to get in and out a few more pulls of air before you attempt to talk to him. He stares at you stonily from where he’s perched against his wooden dresser the entire time. How has the night gone so wrong? Oh right—you ruined everything.

“This is humiliating, but. God, Jimin. I had to drop my Chemistry course. I was failing it,” you bitterly bite out, wiping away angry tears, “But it was far enough along in the semester that I couldn’t just drop it and enroll myself into another class to replace the units. And then I got a call from the financial aid office that this would drop my standing from a full-time to a part-time student this semester and I would have to pay them back part of my aid since they had disbursed it already, but part time students receive less money than full time students.

“And I thought it would be fine because, you know... I dropped a class and I suddenly opened my schedule up for more shifts and a second job.

“But God. My landlord increased our rent starting from October because he only lets us pay month to month in that stupid building and not have yearly leases. I never saw that as a problem before when I used to think it meant I could leave at any moment but... Pi Phi has gotten so fucking expensive too.”

You clamp down hard on your lips tasting wax and something vanilla-y from the remnants of your lipstick. As you think about Pi Phi, you are suddenly filled with a blistering rage. It causes you to growl out, “And I hate the stupid sorority, Jimin! They keep asking more and more out of me in every single way. They not only want my money but they want my time. My fucking blood, sweat, and tears.

“WHY THE HELL DO I HAVE TO PAY FOR A MEAL PLAN AT THE PI PHI HOUSE WHEN I DON’T EVEN LIVE THERE OR EAT THERE?” you suddenly lose even more of your cool, screaming about it for the first time. Finally able to unload your frustration at the events that have upended your entire life, “For the monthly chapter dinners??” you hiss and then venomously bite out, “Why aren’t the chapter events paid for with what they take from us in the form of dues already?!” It’s obvious you think you’re being swindled.

“I don’t have time either, Jimin. I picked up so many extra shifts for everything since I was low on cash after paying back the university. My grades have even started to suffer. What am I supposed to do? I’m trapped in this stupid sorority. I can’t leave or my children and I will be blacklisted from Pi Phi forever. I won’t have the damn connections I spent the last three years building when I start job hunting. And I already spent all that money and it’s gone down the drain if I leave.” you lividly brush away the tears that fall from your eyes, immensely chagrined at your delicate emotions and how you seem to be spilling tears at the drop of a hat, unable to control them.

“But, Jimin... I might be fucking homeless too if I can’t pick up shifts because of Pi Phi obligations. What am I supposed to do?”

Jimin rushes to you, basically tackling you as he wraps his arms around you and the two of you fall back onto the bed. Your hair is a dark halo around your head as Jimin squishes you into the mattress. “Y/N? My lovely Y/N. My precious angelic Y/N. My darling sweet Y/N. Why didn’t you tell me, baby?” he murmurs as he brushes soft kisses all over your face as he overwhelms you with tender compliments to make up for earlier when he mistakenly accused you of attempting to break up with him.

“I don’t want handouts from you, Jimin,” you fiercely protest, your eyes still glittering from unshed liquid, “I know you. You can’t stand it when someone you love or care about is going through something terrible. You want to fix it immediately, You’re a problem solver but I’m not your damsel in distress, Jimin. This isn’t your burden to carry or your problem to solve.”

Jimin just smiles at you lightly, evidently your boyfriend feels incredibly terrible about his outburst earlier that had led to his unfounded accusations. He also smiles in an attempt to control his anger, since it shouldn’t be entirely directed at you anyways, so it comes out a little rough and toothy, “It’s okay to ask for help, Y/N. You might not be my damsel in distress to save but no one said you had to slay all your dragons by yourself.”

“I don’t want your money Jimin,” you push against his shoulder, trying to wriggle out of his grasp, but his dumb muscled frame doesn’t move an inch. Why is he so strong and solid? You’re no longer appreciative of how he can cart you along without breaking a sweat.

“I wasn’t going to give you money but I do have an idea,” he admits, tightening his arms around you as he rolls the two of you around so he’s no longer suffocating you underneath him. You struggle against his hold but are unsuccessful at loosening it even though your chances of escape should have increased since you are no longer buried underneath him. Quickly, you give up and flop back onto him, resting your head on his hard pectoral muscles. You can hear his heartbeat and it feels terribly intimate, making you struggle once more restlessly. You can’t stand this overwhelming downpour of love and acceptance from Jimin when you’ve treated him like shit today and continuously implied that he had a tendency to ditch you in scary situations.

“No ideas. I can do it by myself,” you protest stubbornly, lightly banging your head against the smooth silken expanse of his chest. You eye the tanned surface with narrowed eyes and contemplate whether you should bite him to show your ire, leaving a crescent of teeth marks on one of his generously endowed pectorals. You will that urge away and sigh.

“But you don’t have to,” Jimin cheerfully sings, with your eyes snapped shut against his warm skin you can’t see his face, but you have no doubt that he’s smiling widely at the moment. “Clearly, you can’t manage the stress.”

“Don’t, Jimin,” you warn, turning your head to the side so your lips are right by a tender nipple before taking it between your teeth, rolling the nub between it and biting down roughly. Evidently, you don’t have remarkable restraint. “I’ll hate you forever.”

“That’s an interesting dilemma you’re presenting me,” Jimin grins through the pain though you felt his full body wince and the way his body flinched away from you when you bit him, making you smirk deviously. His voice takes on the same tone as when he makes you listen to the stupid shit his Philosophy professor makes them argue about which then results in Jimin forcing you to counteract all of his arguments before the debates in class. “I don’t think you’ll hate me for what I’m going to suggest. But you know what, Y/N? If I ever had the opportunity to save you from ruin but it would result in you resenting me, I think I would still do it. I love you too much to let you live in misery.”

“I’m only in misery when I don’t have you, Jimin,” you disagree, pouting, “Everything else doesn’t matter.”

“Great,” Jimin grins, smacking a loud kiss against your lips, taking advantage of how enticing your puckered up lips look, rubbing off the remnants of your lipstick even more, “You’re gonna love my suggestion.”

“Ugh,” you groan in defeat, “Fine, let's hear it.”

“Let me move in with you.”

“Absolutely not!” you immediately protest, slapping a beefy bicep, and then pinching it lightly because that’s a dumb idea. No. He’s not moving in with you.

Jimin rolls his eyes, “Oh, come on. I spend more time at your apartment than my frat because you can’t fall asleep when you’re alone. You think someone is going to break in and murder you. You desperately need a roommate, or a better long term solution, and who is better than the guy who already spends so much time at your place that he should’ve probably started paying rent all the way back to August? Y/N, you spend so much money buying groceries that I end up finishing because you feel bad for making me spend nights with you that you feel like you have to pay me in ‘dinner and sex.’ Which, by the way, I don’t need constant food and sex, Y/N. I mean it’s nice but you’re not obligated to fulfill both those needs every time I’m at your place.”

“Jimin, you already paid for the entire year at your frat. You’re the vice president. You need to stay on deck at all times. You’re so important to Beta Tau,” you were not going to let Jimin waste money on an empty dorm. You knew how expensive Panhellenic housing was. Jimin probably paid for an exorbitantly expensive meal plan too. You ignore the comments about the food and the sex. You and Jimin cannot last more than five days without touching each other. Also, despite what Jimin says, he fully believes that you make the best Korean food out of anyone he knows at university. He’d probably wither and die if he had to live without your cooking since his diet otherwise consists solely of greasy takeout and energy drinks.

“First of all I’m a vice president not the vice president. Also, officers actually get free housing. That’s why the elections are so stiff every year. It’s the same reason that most of us decide to stay here instead of getting an apartment. We’re not being forced to stay and there’s no evil landlords trying to hike rent up illegally. Besides, it’s likely that a sophomore is going to be praising God the second he gets notified he got taken off the housing waitlist because a room just opened up. And it’s a single! Only officers get singles. Let me make that guy’s entire year, Y/N.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with that?” you shyly mumble, looking down at Jimin’s chest and the glittering jewelry on his nipples to avoid eye contact.

“Mmhmm,” Jimin agrees, placing two fingers under your jaw and tilting your face up, “Let me help you,” he whispers across your lips before pressing them against his own.

You break apart from the languid kiss to gasp softly, your breathing still raggedly from your crying earlier, and finally concede, “Okay.”

And just like that. It’s like a switch has been flipped. Now that your boyfriend is under the understanding that he has just fixed everything, caring thoughtful Jimin goes away as horny wicked Jimin takes his place.

The look Jimin casts over your entire body as his darkened brown eyes nonchalantly track their way down is diabolical. He has no idea how your body suit is staying attached to your chest when its cut down the middle to your navel and he immediately has both of his hands going up to your breasts to cup them – his fingers slipping into your bodice, gripping onto the sparkly blue cloth before he roughly pulls them off the soft mounds. You glare at him as the sticky tape you used to keep the cups in position gets pulled off your body, leaving red marks on your skin where the adhesive had been.

Jimin ducks his head down, nosing your puffy nipples that begin to tighten once exposed to the chilly air, in apology. As his nose brushes against the sensitive nubs, hardening them, his mouth seeks those agitated red patches of skin, swiping fat strokes with his tongue over them, massaging in wet circles with its tip, as he sloppily layers them in his spit, soothing the flesh before puckering his lips around the sore areas, sucking on them until the marks darken into more vivid reds and purples, sometimes even adding the sharp bite of his teeth to deepen their permanence. He kisses all around your breasts, leaving marks from all over, even on the valley in between – almost as though he wants to make sure you can’t wear anything low cut or this daring without everyone seeing how you are his like he is yours.

You rake your nails down his back when you realize that, scoffing at how he’s still possessive almost three years into your relationship. Jimin looks up at you as he feels your nails dimpling into his skin, a shy but proud lopsided smile on his swollen, fuschia colored lips. He’s so fucking unapologetic. You roll your eyes before you return his grin and it’s only then that he returns his attention to your breasts, finally wrapping his lips around a pebbled peak, gently nipping them before his cheeks hollow out from the force that he’s sucking them, suddenly taken over by desperation. He swathes his tongue over and over the hard nub, before deciding to drag his teeth along the sensitive bud, rolling it between his teeth and then closing down, making you squeal, your head lolling to the side.

His intensity has you losing your mind underneath him. You writhe restlessly beneath Jimin’s body, your limbs spasming while your hips keep surging up, knocking against Jimin’s front frantically, seeking friction in vain. The stupid thick cloth of his dark colored sweatpants don’t let you feel anything but the faint shadow of Jimin’s dick, despite all your frantic bucking.

“Jimin,” you cry out in frustration, “Jimin!” You don’t even know what you want. Do you want him to take his pants off and furiously rut against you through your panties? Or do you want him to stop making you fall apart into pieces with his mouth that doesn’t cease its relentless besiege on your breasts?

Your boyfriend hears you, though, and it has him backing away from your body so he can look down at you to figure out the dimensions of your costume and how the fuck to get that thing off of you so you can be completely nude in his bed. You immediately whimper at the loss of contact. Jimin’s like a furnace and without his body covering you or his hot mouth against your skin, you can now feel the chill in his room which has not been excluded from the icy drafts that the fraternity has blasting through the mansion with the aid of central air conditioning to further the intensity of their haunted house. The entire place is temperature controlled which means the only thing Jimin can do to keep you warm is to wrap his frame around you since both of you are unwilling, at the moment, to put on more layers.

When Jimin finally rips the bright turquoise suit off, you’re left in only your mesh thong – the panties are made up of a diaphanous pink fabric that covers your mound, but lets Jimin see everything underneath as the golden tint to your skin peaks out through the cloth, and is edged with a lime green scalloped ribbon that has a cute little green bow on the center. Jimin can even see how the swath of fabric that’s pressed against your folds is darker from how wet you are, dripping into the material, deepening the color. “I love how you matched your panties to your leg warmers, Y/N. That eager to have sex with me tonight? You already creamed, no oops – screamed, them, and we’ve barely done anything,” Jimin goads, shamelessly staring down at you, his lips curling up devilishly as he can see the visible effect he has on your body.

“I always want to have sex with you,” you shrug blasély, unashamed of your desire and immune to Jimin’s taunts after so many years. He doesn’t embarrass you with how vulgar and descriptive he gets anymore.

But when Jimin starts to pump his fingers through your folds, the incessant speed and fervor has you whimpering to the point that you have to purse your lips in an attempt to conceal them. Jimin’s prodding fingers leave your pussy revealing that it has completely soaked them, making the male hold his hand up to his mouth, swirling his tongue around the pads of his fingers as he rejoices in your delicious taste.

“Come here, baby,” Jimin hums, his chocolate brown eyes sparkling warmly as he lulls you into a false sense of confidence. His fingers wrap around your smooth, shaven calves, gently dragging your cotton leg warmers down your legs.

In the blink of an eye, before you can even realize what has fully happened, your boyfriend has tied you up with those dumb multicolored striped pieces of fabric to his headboard. Your hands are bound together at the wrists and then closely tied to one of the headposts, limiting your upper range of motion. The most you can do is buck up, your back arching as you struggle and your legs kick about, but then even that motion becomes limited as Jimin straddles your abdomen. He’s up on his knees, his legs on either side of you and then the male pushes his black sweats and the navy boxer briefs he had worn for the party, so that he wouldn’t flash anyone in those tight costume shorts, halfway down his bulging muscled thighs, moving up your body until the pinkened mushroom head of his dick nudges against your lips, wordlessly telling you to part them.

Feeling defiant, you turn your face to the right and the precum that was beading the head of his cock smears against your cheek at the sudden movement. Your entire face heats up at that, a scarlet flush deepening the color of your cheeks, reddening your throat and décolletage.

“Y/N,” Jimin growls lowly, biting harshly down on the inside of his cheek and that’s all it takes for you to reposition your head, though you glare at him before you slowly spread apart your lips and take in just the bulbous tip into the warm wet cavern of your mouth. You suckle it languidly, focusing on just that part for a moment, twirling your tongue around it and sucking it hard, the point of your tongue poking the slit and eagerly lapping up every bit of precum that leaks out.

But soon you get into it, your neck stretching as you eagerly attempt to take in more of his length, hollowing your cheeks as you slide your lips over it. His tip drags against the roof of your mouth and you splutter in frustration around his cock that you can’t move enough to get even more of his length down your throat. At that Jimin moves even more up your chest, his bony knees almost digging into your armpits since your arms are thrown over your head in their tied position, though he carefully keeps himself perched so none of his weight is pressing down on your delicate rib cage. The male leans one of his arms back to rest his weight on his hand which is fisting his sheets, his fingers digging into his mattress while your actions pick up fervor as you eagerly bob your head forward to enthusiastically deep throat him. His other hand blindly reaches behind him in the direction of your folds, traveling down your continuously clenching tummy and pelvis, the delicate digits traversing the tightened muscles to successfully find the opening to your core, his thumb brutally pressing down on your pulsating clit, striving to hurl you towards release as you do the same to him.

His thumb furiously rubs at that sensitive bud while his other fingers roam your folds, two of them breaching your entrance to plunge into your gushing center, thick digits knuckle deep as he multitasks, pumping two of them in and out of you, curling them up with his fingertips brushing against the furled grooves of your walls, his hard fingernails raking against your insides to making you wail in discontent as his thumb keeps building up that pressured assault against your battered clit.

Meanwhile, you’re gagging on his cock as it sits heavily on your tongue, allowing you to feel the protruding vein along the underside, jutting further into your mouth, brushing against the back of your throat, stabbing your tonsils. You curl your tongue upwards, trying to follow the path of the vein with the tip. The ribbed, warm skin of his shaft against your tongue makes you salivate, drool dripping out your lips while you similarly drench yourself down south as a flood of arousal flows through your core.

But after a moment Jimin snarls, “No,” in frustration, his flushed forehead scrunched up as he seeks something more, something that will perhaps yield more satisfaction and result in greater relief, moving off of your body to agitatedly pull at the fabric of his pants, shredding them off completely.

When the male returns to you, completely nude, all warm peach, soft cream and blush pink shades, he decides to straddle you in the opposite direction, facing away from you. He grips your thighs firmly to maneuver your legs in a bent position, his palms feeling rough as they grasp onto the round globes of your ass to lift your pelvis off the bed, making your back arch as your pussy becomes level with Jimin’s mouth so that he can eat you out. He slides backwards after he properly positions you like you’re his feast so that you can once again take his dick in your mouth, allowing the two of you to properly sixty-nine.

Jimin’s cock twitches in your mouth in excitement and you quickly suckle it to keep it from jerking unexpectedly again, slowly teasing it and building up the pressure. As you keep things slow, Jimin shudders against your mons, his breath seeping through the mesh fabric of your thong, falling over your sensitive skin and making you get goosebumps all over. His lips close over your engorged clit through your panties, sucking so hard he wets the material so heavily it becomes transparent. But after a moment he abandons it, using his nose to nudge the cloth aside so that your folds are finally bare before he eagerly sets in. He sloppily licks fat stripes from your clit to your core, jabbing the tip of his tongue into you, nipping at your petaled folds. In his hunger, he doesn’t realize that he is slowly moving away from your mouth until your lips frantically wrap themselves around his mushroom tip, as you struggle to keep him in your mouth, back to only being able to suck on that upper part of his shaft. He grips your thighs even more soundly, slurping at your juices as your thighs quiver and jiggle on either side of his face. He can’t get enough of how you taste, his grunts mingling with your lustful moans and whimpers that pierce through the air. It doesn’t take him long before he successfully catapults you into a powerful climax, your soft thighs trapping his head as they close around it. Jimin ignores the constraint, sniffing at your delicious scent, lapping at your folds until he has successfully slurped up every bit of your orgasm.

When he releases his grip on your ass, no longer holding you up, your legs unbend, falling as you can no longer hold the position on your own due to the current jellylike state of your limbs. He climbs off your body to sit beside you, his back against the headboard as he finally takes off the bindings around your wrists. The second you’re free, you don’t get a chance to do much before you find yourself hauled up by Jimin and dumped on his lap, your still sensitive cunt brushing against his painfully hard dick as your thighs bracket his, making you twitch in his embrace.

You face him, taking in the messed up hair, voluminous and in disarray, the puffy reddened lips, and the coral colored flush that overtakes his skin from his ears to his cheeks to the entirety of his throat. He looks delirious, so terribly fucked out, and when you eagerly seek to touch his plush lips with your own red bitten ones, his eyes close softly, his black eye lashes fluttering closed as he lets out a blissful sigh. The kiss is earnest and gentle, Jimin’s fingers lightly twitching against your chin as they delicately grip it. “I love you,” you hum into the kiss, when you break apart for the smallest of moments, your lips trembling against his.

His heart skips a beat at your sincere declaration, blood surging to both his cheeks and his cock as he becomes even more maddened at those words, filled with an overflowing amount of love and lust for you as they take over his mind and make him lose control. He leans more deeply into the kiss, intensely passing his lips over yours again and again, too restless and greedy to let you part for a second or breath.

You’re his, he’s yours; he will never let you two be anyone else’s. This is forever for him.

“Ride me, Y/N?” he begs, when he finally is able to let you go, comforted by how your arms are wound tightly around his frame. His gray hair is darkened at the roots to a sooty charcoal color from how much he’s sweating even in this freezing room and as you brush it back, away from how they’ve fallen into his eye line, he murmurs, “At least in the beginning. Please, baby.”

You press your hands against his chest, your palms brushing against the rock hard points of his nipples as you lift your ass off his lap. You ask Jimin to help line your folds up with his cock because you’re too busy with your sudden obsession with the furled buds of his dark mauvy brown nipples. You find yourself too busy flicking them and rolling them between your forefinger and thumb, to be bothered to make sure that his cock would enter your opening. Honestly, if Jimin left you to your own devices, distracted as you are by the pretty shiny jewelry adorning his pecs – you would probably just absentmindedly sit down on him, rubbing your pussy against his length, too lazy to make sure he was actually penetrating you with his fat cock, fine with just getting off by humping each other.

You continue to swirl your tongue around the beaded nubs. Jimin hisses and groans when you nudge the metal ends of his piercings with the pointed tip of your tongue. The hardness of the platinum bars brushing against your taste buds seem so at odds with the silkiness of Jimin’s skin and you find yourself moaning as you lick up his chest, your tongue capturing the saltiness of his sweat on it.

Jimin sighs as he continues to let you dart little kitten licks against the hard points of his nipples. It always surprises him just how similar he and you are. You say it’s because he’s a Libra and you’re an Aquarius and that makes you both air signs, but honestly – he doesn’t know. What he does think is that he’s glad you two still get along, even though not only do you both have the same personalities down to a tee, the two of you often blow your lids at the most random things – fortunately, it’s usually not over the same things. But you both are also infatuated with the exact same features on each other, often wanting to perform the exact same sexual act on each other, even if you guys sometimes have to determine an order when it’s not possible to do it simultaneously.

He can’t blame you for wanting to suck his nipples right now when he spent over an hour with his face pressed to your breasts earlier in the afternoon, at one point even motorboating you until you shoved him away rolling your eyes, pretending it wasn’t enjoyable for you at all. This means that he'll happily let you hum against his sweat slickened skin in pleasure as you lick and nibble while he grabs ahold of your shapely hips and makes you slide up and down against his length. When you finally stop your adoration of Jimin’s chest, you sheepishly take back control and increase your speed, enthusiastically bouncing up and down on his dick, using his shoulders to clutch onto.

As the pace picks up momentum, you get sloppier, resulting in his cock dragging against your folds roughly. It makes you mewl mindlessly and Jimin moves his hands away from your hips now that you’ve taken back the reins. Instead, his hands go upwards, fingers knotting themselves into your hair as his palms cradle the back of your head, he gently nudges your head forward with his hands, guiding you towards his lips before you meet them in a desperate kiss that has you both sighing intermittently against each other’s mouth.

It’s taking you more and more effort to lift yourself off his cock and fall down onto it again as your thighs tighten with another approaching orgasm. When Jimin finally notices your struggles, he quickly rolls the two of you around so that he’s on top of you and you’re lying on your back with your legs wrapped high around his waist as he energetically jackhammers into you with tight, lethal snaps of his hips, keeping up a furious pace. His fat, monstrous length pounds into you again and again as you mindlessly rake your nails down his back, struggling to find purchase. He rams his cock into your hole as your walls quiver and tighten around him, reluctant to let him go.

Too enraptured by your beauty as he is full of both love and lust, it’s not enough for Jimin to just stare down at you, maintaining eye contact as he snaps his hips, pistoning into you. No, Jimin has to remain busy, giving you as much pleasure as possible, and so his head ducks low, wetly and messily kissing and biting his way from your throat to the expanse of your chest, littering your smooth skin with even more torrid love bites and hickeys. It’s fortunate that it is sweater weather because there is no way you can wear a bikini top without showing everyone the, at least, twenty impassioned marks that stain your skin as proof of Jimin’s adoration and devotion. His hand also sneaks its way down to increase the intensity, fiercely rubbing your clit to stimulate you. This time when you come, you squirt, drenching Jimin’s bed sheets. And all it takes is you gushing around him from your orgasm for your boyfriend to come powerfully inside you, collapsing onto your frame.

For a long moment, you let Jimin crush your body under his weight, welcoming the closeness and how his skin sticks and clings to yours with how sweaty you both have become. You tighten your legs even further around his hips, keeping his warm cock buried within you for as long as you can, but when it starts to erratically twitch from the overstimulation, you know it’s time for Jimin’s exhausted cock to pull out.

“Shower with me?” Jimin whispers against the shell of your ear, making you shiver. All of your senses are still overwhelmingly heightened after that second orgasm, “We can use up all of the hot water since they turned on the fucking A/C even though it’s almost winter.”

You let Jimin pull you along to the ensuite bathroom, both of you thanking God that he’s an officer who gets several privileges. Jimin lets you remain a little longer in the shower than himself, escaping early since you two couldn’t agree on the temperature. You had wanted it warmer than he did and he could only stand it for so long. You use the time to scrub every bit of Halloween makeup off your skin. As the water runs a bluish gray, you wonder how the fuck Jimin had sex with you when you looked properly fucked out and a right mess with your makeup running all over your face. Surely you could not have looked very pretty. You bite your lip, making yourself blush, but Jimin certainly must’ve thought you did with the way he kept staring at you the entire time. The heat of a thousand suns were behind his eyes as his eyes swept over your body and locked with yours.

When you exit the bathroom, in an oversized fuzzy Beta Tau crewneck that belongs to your boyfriend and one of his thicker pairs of sweats, your hair is blown dry since you didn’t want to drip water onto Jimin’s bed, wetting the sheets, when it was already so cold. Looking over the room, you find that Jimin has changed his bedding so it no longer has the evidence of his cum and your squirting splattering it.

Jimin’s already on top of the new sheets with, what do you know, Toy Story 3 all queued up on Disney+, though you know he takes any and all opportunity to rewatch The Nightmare Before Christmas that he can. The male hurriedly opens his arms out wide for you when he notices that you’re back in the room and you launch yourself into his embrace. Once you’re comfortable with your back pressed against his chest, he covers the two of you with his thick, warm blankets.

“Jimin?” you ask, twirling a flat lock of hair. Unless you style it, your freshly washed hair never has any volume.

“Yes, baby?” he answers dutifully, kissing your forehead. He’s warm and cozy, smelling like orange blossoms and citrus trees, both floral and woody and you love it, inhaling deeply.

“Can you come over on Sunday? I want to eat dinner together with you,” you admit, pulling the sleeves of his crewneck until your fingers are no longer visible and you have sweaterpaws.

“Depends on what you make,” he teases, nudging his nose against yours.

But you don’t realize, answering him seriously with thoughtful consideration to your dinner menu, “I was thinking I could make kimchi jjigae and maybe also dakgalbi?”

“Y/N, I was gonna be there with you regardless,” Jimin murmurs, raking his hand through his hair, pushing back the long straight strands of gunmetal colored hair from falling over his eyes and impeding his vision, “I’ll start moving in from tomorrow but it might be a little hard since I have rehearsal and then the actual showcase in the evening. But I figured I could get a huge chunk done on Sunday. Of course, I’ll eat dinner with my baby.”

“Jimin?”

“Yes, baby?” Jimin giggles before grinning at how you keep hesitantly repeating his name first before just saying whatever you wanted to tell him.

“I love you very much,” you admit, shyly, worrying your teeth over your lips that are covered with Jimin’s cherry chapstick you found on his sink’s counter. It’s not gross to share lip balm when you two are always kissing anyway. At least this way, neither of your lips are ever chapped and flaking.

“I know, baby. I love you, too. I’m sorry about snapping at you on Tuesday when you brought me food,” he confesses, his hands sliding up and down your arms, attempting to increase the friction to warm you up as you curl into his form.

“Oh. No, baby. That’s okay. It’s already forgotten, don't worry about that.”

“Yeah?” Jimin asks, hugging you tightly from the back, burrowing his nose into your hair. It smells like his Aromatica shampoo and you.

“Of course. You were just under a lot of pressure from midterms, baby. Don’t fret.”

“Yeah?” Jimin repeats, quirking his eyebrows playfully, “So you know that I don’t hold anything that happened today against you, right? Let’s just move forward, baby.”

“Oh, I see,” you opine, “This was a trap.”

“Don’t look at it that way,” suggests Jimin, cackling his head off, his cheeks stretched high and his eyes closing in the shape of half moons that are edged with his long dark lashes, “It’s a testament of my love for you.”

“What a forgiving and reasonable boyfriend I have,” you giggle, playing along, knocking your shoulder back into his chest, “He’s probably the best boyfriend to ever exist.”

“He is,” Jimin agrees.

“And I love him so much,” you declare, punctuating your statement with a happy kiss.

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution - Non Commercial - No Derivatives 4.0 International License

©OPALJM 2021

[heliosoll]

"I know I'm being very cordial in this response but I do hope it comes across that I'm sorry about hurting your feelings." Bestie shut up that is your sincerity 😭 the way you handled that whole situation has me 🥺🥰 love u and this safe and drama free blog!! Also not sure if im overstepping here but i did want to give my unsolicited personal opinion (yikes) just because i think it would give some perspective to u maybe idk jskaka. You've mentioned a few times that you to some extent see yourself coming across as blunt or maybe even me@n (censoring that bc u r not spoiler alert) and i was trying to think of how to word and explain this and i must have ✨️manifested✨️ the answer bc u literally gave me the perfect example in the tags of the ask u posted after that. A lot of shifting/loa bloggers have that really weird coddling+mean thing going on, kinda condescending and makes the bloggies feel ashamed or a bother to ask for help. There's also a lot of entitlement between those who have and have not and then mixed in with the frustration from people who are not believing in results and all that stuff, you know how it is. You aint got none of that bs here. You're very patient and I'd like to think more than blunt, it's a better word to say simple. You don't try to fluff it up or 'ive answered this a hundred times already, yall need to stop overcomplicating lol'. It has a lot to do with the way someone speaks yanno? Even in a few asks ago, you were very empathetic and gentle in saying that you know it's frustrating to hear but persist in there not being a problem and then even suggested that blanket affirmation. That kind of understanding nature is so rare to come by and its the reason why for the last few months u have become the sole shifting blog i follow and while yes i am the one who 'did' everything, it was under your guidance that i have let go of so much anxiety and disbelief. You promote the barebone necessities on this blog and that's literally all u need to shift. No limiting beliefs or backwards bragging. Your shifting post can literally be summed up by 'intention is all you really need' but you made a whoooole post about the ins and outs plus fine print. Like any question someone could possibly have, any loophole or limiting belief that could arise, you think of it beforehand and address it before it can be asked. I see that dedication and I applaud you for that like you really out here feeding a bunch of shifters for FREE 🤧 Anyways my life is so much better after finding this blog and learning how to do things the proper way. Thanks for all the effort and not enforcing any miniscule limiting beliefs. I think most people would agree that ur very friendly, kind and generally a good person, not mean at all. I've never once felt frustrated, discouraged or uncomfortable here. You're like the cool senior who looks sharp but is actually really sweet and tells all the freshman which courses to take and how to pass the class. Tldr; ur not blunt, ur just stating the facts as u should and we love u for it. This blog has brought me a lot of sollace (see what i did there) so i wanted to take the time to write this all out bc ur like my fave person evurrrrr. This is uhhhh also a bit of a doozy to post so u can absolutely delete this after u read it lmao anyway love u bestie 💓

I don't think I'll ever be able to truly express how much this means to me. This is literally the nicest ask I've ever gotten! And a little embarrassing to admit but this made me tear up a bit. Everything you said is exactly how I wanted this blog to be for people. I wanted it to be a safe space for all kinds of shifters - new and experienced. I wanted it to be an easy going space with no limiting beliefs and acceptance of all different kinds of beliefs.

I can't thank you enough for this 🥺 It makes me really happy to know that so many people feel safe and comfortable here. And I'm so glad I was able to help you too! Every now and then I wonder if I'm actually helping people so it was really nice to hear :')

This ask helped me a lot actually because I can see where you're coming from! I think I just get worried that some of my more "to the point" answers could come off as mean to people but I can see why they wouldn't as well. I don't really know what else to say this is just such a sweet message and I'll be thinking about it for a long time. Thank you so much for taking the time to quell my worries and bring in a new perspective 🥺 It really helped!!

[armysantiny]

NCT Dream: Their s/o is passionate about working out

Pairing: ot7 x gender neutral reader // NCT (Dream)

Genre: fluff, humour, headcanon

Includes: going to the gym, teasing, watching a drama, workout schedules, bribing with coffee, exhaustion, 

Word count: 1.59k

Warning: I swear like, once or twice lol, Chenle’s one talks about dieting for a moment

Rating: PG

Networks: @kwritersworld, @kdiarynet, @kpopscape, @ultkpopnetwork, @kpopcontentcreatorsclub, @k-dinernet, @lovesick-net, @whipped-kpop-creators, @kafenetwork, @ficscafe, @dreamwritersnet, @neoswitchnet, @nct-writers

Tagging: @teeztheflag, @the-rooftop-fight, @cherry-hyejin || Taglist Form

An: I had fun writing this lol. I would pay good money to watch this happen irl- members under the cut! Oh yeah - @alicanta77​ more Jeno!

마크 (Mark)

Something about Mark tells me that he’d be kinda chill about it? You know?

As long as you’re enjoying it, he’s happy

And you’re getting healthier for yourself, so nice!

Flirty (or attempts at flirting lol) comments whenever you come out of the shower

And then you suggest going to the gym together

Not that he doesn’t want to

But he’s seen your workout routine

Safe to say this boy is intimidated

“Wait, wait, wait - go with you?”

Mark doesn’t mind working out

In fact, it’s quite relaxing

But he knows you’re very strict with your sets

He will be sore in the morning if he tried to keep up with you

Tries to bribe you with coffee-

Doesn’t work and you (lightly) drag his arse to the gym

Safe to say he is tired when you two get back

You get out of the shower and you can see this guy knocked the fuck out on the sofa

Let the teasing begin~

Poking at his chest and giggling when he pulls you into his chest

“Markie~ you’re not tired already, are you?”

Doesn’t reply, but sleepily smiles and ruffles your hair

Soft :(

런쥔 (Renjun)

Oh God, this is going to be fun

Renjun doesn’t really go to the gym unless he has to, or really wants to

So he doesn’t mind that you enjoy going to the gym

Bettering yourself, good for you, you know?

But dear God when you mention that you want him to join you

Yeah...good luck with that one

Will come up with every excuse under the sun

This mf really tries pulling the��‘I’m a foreigner, I don’t know Korean that well’ card on you

Like he doesn’t know how to speak Korean- (probably better than you too lol smh)

You kinda just deadpan him and he drags himself to get ready

Whining! Every! Single! Second

From start to finish I swear, Renjun complains constantly omg

When you two get home, the sigh of relief he lets out is loud

“Come on Junnie~ it wasn’t that bad!”

“Babe, I am going to die - how will you make this up to me?”

You come out of the shower after he’s already done and find him pretending to be asleep

“Well, if you’re asleep, I guess I’ll watch the new episode on my own”

Gets up immediately

No way you’re watching it without him

“Oh? I thought you were dying? Looks like you’re fine now~” 

Rolls his eyes but he’s smiling

Hugs you and you two catch up on your drama

Cute :(

제노 (Jeno

Considering Jeno seems like the kinda guy to really enjoy working out, I think he’d really like that about you

Like, you’re his gym partner and his romantic partner, what’s there not to love?

That’s probably how you two met each other-

Loves comparing your workout schedules

This time though, Nono wanted to give your workout routine a go

“Are you sure baby?”

Not that you didn’t think he could do it, you just didn’t want him to be too sore to practice the next day

But he’s stubborn lol, and you just oblige

It’s honestly so cute

You’re not even halfway done and he’s already starting to have second thoughts

Thing is, you made it seem easier than it actually was 

Obviously you’re feeling a burn from working out, but Jeno is struggling

Takes multiple breaks before you’ve had your first break

You get home and Jeno is already feeling the effects

Laughs when you tease him about it

“How...how do you make it look so easy?”

“Practice~”

Denies that he’ll be sore in the morning and you just shake your head

You wake up in the morning and dear God he can’t move

“Don’t say it...”

“Say what? That I told you so? Okay, I won’t~”

동혁 (Donghyuck)

Oh Imma enjoy this one

As much as Hyuck loves that you enjoy working to better yourself

Do not get that man anywhere within 10ft of a gym

Literally only goes to work out when he has a schedule

Otherwise, you’ll never see him suggest going

So to who or whatever possessed him to jokingly suggest that he should join you in the gym

This guy has some choice words - possibly some swearing involved, who knows?

His dramatic ass will literally put on some over-the-top denial when he sees the smile on your face

Hyuck knows that smile

“Come on hyuck, it won’t be that bad!”

“Oh but it will. Y/n, do you want to kill your boyfriend?”

“Oh stop whining you~, you only have to do it just this once~”

You have to bribe him with his favourite food before he even considers going

And even then, it takes him forever to get ready and go

You’re already on your way and he still tries to weasel his way out of it

Because holy shit your workout is intense

Is dying 

Remember when fullsun here had to carry Jeno and he screamed because Jeno was taking the piss out of him?

Yeah - he does that

This mf really tries asking you to carry him when you get home

You do it anyway-

When you carry him bridal-style, he wraps his arms around your neck and ‘swoons’

“My knight in shining armour~”

Cue rolling your eyes at him, but smiling because you love this man too much to be annoyed

Gosh he’s a brat child sometimes but you love him

재민 (Jaemin)

Heyy, 1/2 of my Dream biases, let’s go!

We’ve all seen Jaemin reveal his abs right?

This man is fit-

So obviously, he does work out a fair bit

If not with you, then definitely with Nono

But let’s be real-

Jaemin is literally the least competitive person ever - if not just for NCT

Cannot and will not compete for anything even if his life depended on it

So when you ask him if he wants to join you on a workout session while you’re about to sleep and he agrees-

You’re surprised

Then again, he’s just so tired (poor bby) that he’s barely registering what you’re saying

Until you remind him the following day

Sighs as he drinks his first of many coffees he’ll have

He wants to try and weasel out of it

But you’re giving him puppy eyes and oh gosh you’re adorable oh noo

He can’t say no :(

When ou two start, oh good lord his respect for your dedication increases tenfold

You do this five times a week?

His body hurts in ways he didn’t know he could hurt

Hits you with his ‘sexy~’ when you get out of the shower

Pretends to take pictures of you

“There we go! My star model show me those angles!”

Laughing fits

Even if you’re both sore (Jaemin more so), y’all are so cute

Gimme this please

천러 (Chenle)

Okay Daegal’s dad you’re up next!

I feel like Chenle really encourages you to keep up with your workout schedule

Probably helps with the dietary requirements that come along with it

Supportive boyfriend over here

We live to see it

Enough getting sidetracked, let’s continue

You’d be sitting together for breakfast and its workout day

This man’s curiosity gets the better of him and he asks if he could join you

He’s always been interested in exactly what exercises you do to stay is such great shape

When you go into detail, Lele kinda sits there wide-eyed for a moment

Granted, he works out too to stay healthy but damn your workout is intense

No wonder your body is as muscular/toned as it is

Be he would be lying to himself and you if he said that it didn’t intimidate him

You could probably throw him with little effort-

When you two do get to the gym, oh dear God is Chenle already exhausted

How do you manage to keep up with it?

Scratch that - exhausted doesn’t even begin to describe how he feels

You get home and Chenle is just...dead

Takes a shower and refuses to move once he gets in bed

Prepare to drag his ass out of bed the next day - he aint going anywhere

지성 (Jisung)

This is going to be interesting! Also 2nd Dream bias!

Of course, since Jisung hasn’t revealed his abs, we don’t know exactly how defined he is

But I think it’s safe to assume that Jisung is pretty well built

And he finds it really cool that you’re so dedicated you are to your workout routine

But dear God this kid doesn’t want to work out if he can help it

As much as he loves you, he would be a dirty liar if he said that you don’t intimidate him from time to time

You could probably bench press Jisung without thinking about it

Okay - I’m exaggerating, but you get the point

Kinda like Hyuck, whatever possessed this kid to ask you if he could join you must of had it in for him that day

You smirk, he realises what he just said and starts backing up

“Wait, wait, wait - let’s talk about this!”

“Uh uh, you suggested it JiJi. Come on, it won’t be that bad”

He kinda just goes -_-

Not bad? Not bad for you, you mean-

Does anything - and I mean literally anything - to get out of it

When you aren’t buying it, he deflates  and joins you

Is going through it by the time the two of you are halfway

Send help lol

You get home and he’s like “Yeah - never doing that again.”

Help this child lol

[trippy-dejun]

hi, so i’m the anon who asked @ / nctsplug if they could not put their nsfw pieces in sfw tags, and i saw that it kind of annoyed you i guess and i just wanted to clarify something. i don’t have a problem with smut being in the fluff tag, as long as there’s a read more cut. you might not think it’s a big deal, but if i’m trying to find something cute and i see an ask for a piece that has squirting i’m gonna get pretty fucking uncomfortable. to you it might not be a big deal, but to me it is because that is not safe for me to read. fluff is for all ages and smut is for adults, which is what made me uncomfortable. also, i’m very sorry if this sounds petty, it just makes me feel extremely uncomfortable to see those kinds of works and when i’m uncomfortable i get aggressive/ defensive. i appreciate hearing your opinion, even if i personally don’t agree with it. if it means anything, i hope you have a good day/night.

Hey anon whats up? How are you on this fine day/night/evening, hopefully good. Thank you for sending. ❤️

Thank you for sending me this ask and elabourating more. Your opinions/feelings are valid and you have the right to agree and disagree.

basically my whole take on this:

I can see how it would be uncomfortable but for clarity, if you put “SMUT” or “NSFW 18+” at the beginning of content warnings in bold/all caps and have something barricading the smut from the fluff, it’s fine. As someone that writes, I take full advantage of the “read more” button and use it to hide the fic/smut parts of my fics and it usually makes people read warnings first. If a fic has fluff in it and is not fully a smut fic— it most definitely reserves the right to live in that fluffy tag too.

I do see the issue with a fic thats fully smut being tagged under fluff; however if its just a small bit of smut and its CLEARLY stated in the tags as well as separated from the fluff its perfectly fine.. As for asks like hard hours, thats when you probably shouldnt use the fluff tag. I have friends that just make their own hashtags for things like that or just use smut tags. If you also read something that makes you uncomfy just click away/move on.

I even asked some of my friends that are still younger minors to see what they thought (my younger friends are like little siblings to me) and they basically said the same thing as what I said.

Again, this is just my opinion and its okay to disagree. I love hearing other peoples opinions and seeing how we are similar and differ. All that matters is that we’re all coming from the same fandom(s) and coexisting

On a much lighter/jokey note:

If all else fails and you see mentions of squirting, just imagine it as someone shooting a water bazooka *pew pew* because aint no sane writer gonna actually use the word “dick” or “vagina” in a smut fic. I’m sorry, I saw you mention squirty so this joke had to be made haha

[anotherbeingsworld]

Promises

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x F!MC (Casey Valentine)

Summary: A promise from the past that should be kept in the future. 

Warning/TW: mentions of accident, miscarriage and death. 

A/N: Hii, I am back with a new fic and its not a fluff! It has been sitting in my drafts for a while now and I got a sudden inspiration strike from my new routine which includes watching Grey’s Anatomy. (i am missing bryce and oph too much welp). I am so sorry for not posting much lately, my heads been all over and I hope it is a good one for y’all. But, I aint giving up yet. // Tags in under the cut and I hope you enjoy! 

They weren’t together, she wasn’t his. And he wasn’t hers. A wave of nostalgia washed through his face, as an accident occurred of a familiar name. Casey Valentine. 

The news of her accident boomed through the halls of Edenbrook, as it was the number one topic by all the hospital staff. Casey had moved on, lived a wonderful life without him. She was married to a wonderful man, who had passed away a few months ago from a car accident, which was followed by the news of Casey carrying his child after the unfortunate event.

Bryce knew the man, he even became his close friend; Henry. He knew about their past, as Bryce was his colleague during his time as a surgical intern before they got married. He was aware of all the feelings beforehand, as both of them decided to call it off. They were considered a reset, as Bryce and Casey were nothing more than close friends. 

After his sudden passing, they had rekindled their friendship. Both of them are close once again, as the feelings from the past linger once more. He promised him, to take care of her. And, the day she found out, she was carrying his child was the hardest. But, Bryce stood by her. He accompanied her to doctor appointments, buying baby clothes, and Keiki even tags along to help her for the baby shower. 

But, the news that was passing through the walls of Edenbrook is forming a lump in his throat. A few hours ago, they were happily texting over Casey's cravings of the day. 

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

He isn’t an intern anymore, as he finished the seven years with a whole ton of memories of love, heartbreak and even found his happiness along the way. After his days as an intern is over, he worked his ass off, and it can be seen as his hard work made him as chief in neurosurgery. Growing up he never knew he would become a surgeon, or yet hold a scalpel. Flash forward, he is the head of the surgical department at Edenbrook once again. 

Upon hearing the news about Casey, he rushed down to the OR where she was surrounded by doctors and interns. 

‘She is bleeding, get her into surgery now! Dr. Lahela, we will need you in this!’ A name called for him, as he took a glance at her condition; there were cuts and bruises. He felt the pain in his body, as they wheeled her away. 

Every second felt like a battle, as the surgeons make their way to save her. He never imagined a day, he would be cutting a friend; a past lover. Someone important to him, he shakes the thought away as an attempt to save her life, and the baby’s life as well. 

Her heart is still beating, slowly as an attempt to not give up. 

‘You are a fighter, don’t give up yet.’ He whispers silent prayers in his mind, as they made their way through the process, hoping and praying that they will be saved. 

…

…

…

He remembers the day, where Henry was on his death bed. Those final moments as he said their goodbyes before time is up. 

‘Bryce, my man.’ Henry smiles upon seeing him took a seat on the chair.

‘Henry, how you looking buddy?’ 

He just lets out a small laugh, a smile on his face.

‘I’m ready to let go..’ 

Before he knows it, the tears started to flow. Bryce never showcased his feelings, except to those who were close to him. 

‘Hey buddy, it’s okay. Before I go, can you promise me one thing..’ His voice was slowly gone, as he tried to keep up his pace. 

Bryce nods in agreement, as he straightens himself upon the tears. 

‘Promise me bryce keep Casey safe, I know… both of you have a history before, and… I am giving you my blessing to be with her if you want to. You have been my buddy since forever, and I know she will be safe with you. Tell her, I am always going to be with her….’ He was cut off, as there was no heartbeat anymore. 

‘I promise.’ 

He stood up, saying his final goodbye before announcing the time of death.

‘Time of death: 11.30 p.m.’ 

…

…

…

‘We can’t save the baby….’ The words stuck to him the most, as he feels a part of him feels guilty. He promised Henry, he would protect her… to keep her safe. 

‘There should be other ways Dr. Harrison. We can… maybe we could…’ A part of him wanted to find the silver lining in the situation, but… there wasn’t any. That’s what life is about, sometimes we can’t save everyone. 

He shuts his eyes in pain, as the rest of the surgeons finished up with the rest of the surgery. Bryce kept his head up during the time, trying to hold the tears from falling. After a few hours, Casey was brought back to safety after the surgery is done.

She was safe, but…the baby isn’t. 

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

After the surgery is over, he tried to occupy himself with other cases as an attempt to keep him distracted from the situation. 

But, he can’t run from reality. He can’t run from the fact that he failed to kept his promise to Henry, as he double-checks the messages from her… she told him about a special dinner for the baby which he knew all too well; Mexican food. He knew all of her cravings by heart now, but… a shudder came to him as this incident could’ve been avoided entirely if she didn’t leave the house. 

He took a deep breath before stepping into the room, where Casey was sound asleep. Her file is in his hands, as the nerves took over. 

Casey seems to notice his presence as she was jolted awake so suddenly, making his nerves higher than usual. She smiles upon his presence looking at the familiarity of the room. 

‘I remember this room, where Annie was treated. It felt like a lifetime ago…’ 

He smiled, it was a lifetime ago since they have been in each other’s lives and honestly he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

‘Casey, do you remember anything?’ His voice was soft as Casey tries to process the question.

‘I was going out to get some food… and suddenly it all went black…’ The realization hit her like a brick seconds later, as a panicked look was seen on her face. The first move she made was, placing her hand on top of her belly. 

…

…

…

A frown started to form as she tried to search for a kick from the baby… after a few tries; the tears start to fall where denial can be written all over her face. 

‘No, no… my baby. Bryce, my baby.’ She started to sob, as Bryce placed the files down before pulling her into an embrace, his tears are visible as well. Both of them were buried in their sorrows, as they held onto one another. 

‘I’m sorry Cas, I am so sorry… we tried but..’ His voice was cut off by the loud sobs from her. She lost her husband months ago, and she lost her baby too. Sometimes life isn’t fair, but… he promised him to be there for her. He promised him to keep her safe. 

THE END. 

Tags:  @bitchloveskcbaseball , @storyofmychoices @jaxsmutsuo , @mvalentine , @princess-geek , @lahellacute ,  @this-person-is-busy , @annekebbphotography , @mrsbhandari , @dcbbw , @choicessa , @choices-confessions ,@fantasyoverreality98 , @baltersome , @ofpixelsandscribbles , @thundergom  @starrystarrytrouble​,  @kelseaaa  ,@bratzlahela , @choicesficwriterscreations  , @lalizah , @drethanramslay , @arcticlumineer , @choicesstan1 , @aveeiro , @eleanorbloom , @openheartfanfics , @brycesgirl  , @rookitcarrera  , @mrs-raleighcarrera​ (if you want to be removed or added, let me know 💜)

[heysoup]

Fluffy February Day 2 - Movie Night

Reminder to follow @fluffyfebruary ​ to see the prompt list and that I’ll be using the tags #fluffyfebruary and #fluffyfeb for these.

Continuing the fics with day two! I’m super proud of this one; It’s dripping with fluff and teenage angst. Warning for potential secondhand embarrassment - they’re both idiots in love and have no idea how to show it.

Chapter 2: Films and Fears

Pairing: Butch/Male Lone Wanderer

Summary: Dealing with life in the vault can be tough, especially for an outcast like Jamie. When he befriends Butch through his G.O.A.T. assignment, however, the two make their own safe place. Butch decides to surprise him there one day with the promise of treasure, and it leads to something more than they both expect.

Ao3 Link

Jamie tosses and turns in his rat’s nest of a bed. It’s midnight – he’s too hot, the vault’s ventilation system’s groaning is echoing around him like a damn chorus, and his sheets keep scratching uncomfortably against his clammy skin. He brings his wrist close to his face to mindlessly check his Pip-Boy for the millionth time that night, his arm feeling as heavy as lead, and he squints at the fluorescent light of the screen as he taps it awake.

Though Butch showed him a few times before, it still takes him a moment to remember the right sequence of buttons to push to unlock developer’s mode and navigate to the messaging tab the other boy set up for them. It’s only been about a month since Butch found an old Pip-Boy manual in Stanley’s locker and got this trick to work, but already there’s a considerable backlog of messages between the two.

Jamie scrolls through them with the dial on his Pip-Boy, worrying the skin of his lower lip with his teeth as he reads through some of the older messages. It’s become a new habit for him on these particularly rough sleepless nights. When he’s too exhausted to write in his journal, draw, or jump around his room in an attempt to tire himself out; he talks to Butch.

If someone had told him a year ago that Butch DeLoria, his childhood bully and teenage rival, would be one of his only sources of solace these days he would have called them insane. Turns out, giving the vault’s two delinquents deadbeat jobs with no supervision and shoving them in the same closet of a studio space could make them form a pretty strange alliance. The enemy of my enemy and all of that, right?

It also doesn’t help that Amata is forever busy with her new duties as overseer’s assistant – or whatever her job title is actually called. Jamie misses her like he’s lost a part of himself, and even though he knows she’s not locked away with her father by choice he can’t help the nagging part of his brain that is convinced she abandoned him.

Butch is dealing with the same thing, though with less consequence. His fellow Tunnel Snakes are relatively busy with their new jobs – Wally as a security guard and Paul as an engineer – but they still make some time to see each other. Butch is just one of those people who needs constant attention, which is where Jamie supposes he comes in handy. He tries not to think too hard about it.

He’s is snickering to himself while he reads some messages sent a few weeks back during one of their spats, most of which were petty insults and some pretty creative curses, when a new message blips through and pulls his screen to attention.

913473: nosebleed u up?

Perfect timing, Jamie thinks, sitting up in his bed to type. The 6-digit code is what Butch called his Pip-ID – apparently every Pip-Boy comes with one coded in by default. It was weird at first, trying to memorize the numbers and calm his own paranoia at the thought of someone hacking into their conversations, but Butch said that their numbers were for their Pip-Boys alone, so Jamie trusted him. The horrible, agitated crawling under his skin that was keeping him up all night begins to fade as he replies.

604272: didja even have to ask? 913473: just say yes or no damn 604272: k. no 913473: oh fuck off

Jamie can’t help the soft laugh that escapes him, and he grins like a complete idiot down at the screen.

913473: if ur done being an ass i have somethin for us to do 913473: if u aint busy of course 913473: meet at the place? 604272: sure. be there in 10

He switches his Pip-Boy screen off and hops out of bed, stretching languorously before grabbing his jumpsuit from where he left it earlier that day in a heap on the floor. He tugs it on leg by leg and zips it up before checking himself in the mirror.

His hair is a mop of curls on his head and he does his best to smooth it down, knowing Butch will scold him for not using the correct conditioner to tame his flyaways like he showed him. The bags under his eyes are a bit darker than usual, but there’s nothing to be done about that. He shrugs to himself and turns to the door. No point in being too self-conscious about his appearance this late at night – isn’t like this is a date or anything, he tells himself.

He doesn’t bother being quiet as he leaves his room, knowing his dad would still be working at the clinic or at the very least passed out there on one of the cots. He doesn’t come home much these days.

Jamie shoves his boots on, not even bothering with socks, and peers out of the thick window into the hallway. It seems empty, so he hits the button and creeps out through the door.

The neon blue emergency lights that run along the edges of the ceiling and floor greet him when he steps out of his apartment. He shoves his hands in his pockets, a nervous habit, and peers around the corner before continuing his path. The door closes not-so-softly behind him and he walks down the hall past the restrooms that separate his and Butch’s apartments. He stops momentarily outside the door to the DeLoria’s apartment, noticing it’s dark and quiet inside.

Butch must already be down there, Jamie thinks, picking up his pace as much as he could without making too much noise. Despite the constant creaking and rumbling of the vault’s ventilation and reactor systems the halls at night could carry quite an echo, and his boots aren’t the quietest things to sneak around in.

Patrols were lax recently but knowing his luck he’d get caught breaking curfew and would have to clean the bathrooms again. He briefly regrets not wearing socks because he refuses to take his boots off and walk barefoot on the cold steel floor, even if it is quieter.

Further down the hallway and a bit past the occupied wing of apartments, Jamie stops at the top of a short set of stairs that lead down to a small corridor with one door. A large INACCESSIBLE sign glows ominously above it, and in the corner of the hallway facing the stairwell is a single security camera. It rotates at a snail’s pace, its gears clicking audibly with every circuit it makes of the dead-end hallway.

Jamie ducks down near the wall at the top of the stairs, watching the camera as he has so many times before to study its crawling path. When Butch had discovered this place, they figured out a way to tilt the camera up ever so slightly with the handle of a broom from their shop – creating about thirty seconds of a blind spot to get them from the stairs and through the door without getting caught if they hugged the left wall.

Peering down the hallways around him one more time to make sure no patrols were coming; Jamie types a quick message into his Pip-Boy.

604272: here

He waits a few moments until he hears a couple sharp raps on the metal door down the way, telling him that Butch is there whenever he’s ready. Jamie waits a few more moments and listens to the camera click back into its blind spot before he hops down the stairs, staying low and to the left as he stalks toward the door. He hits it lightly with his palm when he gets there, and it slides open. He has just enough time to duck inside, slamming his fist on the button to shut it just as he hears the security camera restart its rotation.

“You’re still gonna act like it's some big heist no matter how many times we come down here, huh?” Jamie turns around in the darkness and is met with Butch’s grin, a bottle of beer already in one of his fists. His Pip-Boy light is on, basking them in a dim green glow.

“Keeps it interesting,” he replies, punching Butch playfully on the arm. On this side of the door is a long flight of stairs and they continue further down into the pitch darkness, hands pressing along the walls for purchase with nothing but about three feet of lighting in front of them.

The emergency lights are shut off down here, along with the security cameras – probably to save power, so Jamie turns his Pip-Boy light on as well. It’s a bit brighter, but not by much. They’ve been down here enough times by now that their bodies remember how many steps there are, but Jamie always has a nagging fear in the back of his mind that one day the staircase will just keep going forever. He shakes that thought from his head, listening to the sound of their boots stomping down the steps and focusing his gaze on Butch’s free hand as it slides against the railing.

For the past month or so this has been their escape. Butch somehow figured out how to break into the door they just passed through, and they discovered a whole wing of abandoned apartments under the ones they were currently living in. So far all they had done was clear out one room that had a ratty old couch, some blankets, a broken Nuka Cola mini-fridge, and a few wooden storage crates in it. Jamie had also rigged up a small emergency generator and they were able to find some lamps to make it a little less depressing.

Most importantly, they had booze smuggled from Butch’s mom’s liquor stash, a few cartons of cigarettes they’d traded with Stevie for some chems Jamie snuck from his dad’s clinic, their collection of comic books, and Jamie’s old BB gun for when they got bored. It’s far from perfect, but it’s space, and when you’re destined to roam the same hallways with the same people for the rest of your miserable existence – that amounts to a lot.

“So, what are we actually doing?” Jamie asks as they turn into the apartment they’d claimed as their base. Butch has the generator running and the room smells thickly of his peach pomade and cigarette smoke – he must have been down here for a few hours already.

“I,” Butch begins, stopping to pull the cork out of his new bottle of beer with his teeth before spitting it on the floor and taking a swig, “am gonna show you some treasure.” He finishes with a flourish, a self-satisfied smirk on his face, and plops down onto the couch next to his discarded Tunnel Snake jacket.

Jamie snorts and pulls up a crate, sitting down on the opposite end of the couch and propping his feet up. He clicks his tongue in mock annoyance when Butch’s boots crowd his own on the small surface and, in a fruitless endeavor, they battle for leg space before giving in to sharing. It’s obvious the other boy is already a bit tipsy.

“Treasure, huh? That’s cool, I guess,” Jamie snickers, snatching the bottle of beer from Butch and downing some before he could protest. It burns in his throat and brings a comforting warmth to his chest. He continues nursing the drink and settles further back into the worn corduroy couch, his posture absolutely terrible. Butch reaches for another bottle.

“Yup.” The bottle pops open and another cork joins the pile growing on the floor. Another drink and an obnoxious burp, then Butch sits forward - feet falling to the floor, his hands on his knees, and an excited light in his eyes. His leg is bouncing incessantly.

“Listen, I was going through some rooms down here and I found an old projector – like the one Brotch has?” He glances at Jamie, blue eyes a soft, dreamy color in the low light, and Jamie can’t help but gulp at the intensity he sees there. When Butch has a plan he’s excited about, he turns into a different person – like all the stress of conforming to the monotony of vault life has washed away and he’s finally allowed to be the mischievous and passionate person hiding underneath it all. Or… something like that. Jamie’s waxing poetic again, something he can’t help but do when around Butch.

“That’s pretty cool,” is all Jamie can bring himself to breathe out as he sips on his beer. He picks at the loose threads on the arm of the couch as he tries not to think about the fact that Butch had his lips on this same bottle just a few seconds ago.

Butch deflates a bit. “Pretty cool?” he mocks, leaning closer. Okay, maybe he’s more drunk than Jamie had first thought, if the redness of his cheeks were any indication.

“Nosebleed, I found full on ho-lo-disks,” Butch emphasizes, blowing a few messy curls away from his forehead. Jamie just shrugs.

“Okay?” he begins, not seeing the big deal. They already have these things in the classroom. “What’re we gonna do, watch some lectures? Don’t tell me DeLoria wants to brush up on his studying,” he taunts.

Butch just sneers at him in response, standing up and only swaying a bit – much to Jamie’s surprise. “You have no imagination, dweeb. Stay here!” And with that, he storms out of the room and into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

Jamie can see the green light of his Pip-Boy flash on through the window as he walks further away into the dark.

It’s a few minutes before he comes back, and Jamie can hear the ruckus he’s causing before he sees him. He’s startled out of his comfortable position on the couch and perks up. The door slides open and Butch pushes the projector into their base on its rolling cart. One of the wheels must be rusted because its screeching like a damn rat, scraping against the metal flooring as he drags it to the center of the room. He grabs an old cardboard box from the lower shelf of the cart and slides it on the floor over to Jamie with his foot before going back to set the projector up with their tangled mess of extension cords.

Jamie picks it up and grimaces at the box – it’s a little rank and it feels crusty in some spots. “This thing is probably covered in like a hundred different types of mold,” he complains.

“Didn’t give it to ya so you could judge the box!” Butch snaps, banging the top of the projector impatiently when the power flickers. “Open the damn thing.”

Jamie places the box on the couch beside him and sits up, peeling it open to peer inside. His jaw drops in amazement at the sight – more holodisks than he’s ever seen in his life, all with unique and eye-catching, full-color illustrations on the covers. He stares at Butch in disbelief and catches the other boy staring at him, an unabashed, beaming smile on his face when he sees Jamie’s reaction. When their eyes meet, Butch clears his throat and snaps his attention back to the projector, fiddling with some dials that don’t seem to change anything.

“Cool, right?” He says, his ears turning red as he dismisses his earlier excitement with a sheepish shrug.

“It’s fucking great!” Jamie laughs and begins to rummage through the box. There are real films in here, like he’s only read about in pre-war history classes or his cheesy novels. Aside from a whole slew of superhero films starring characters like The Silver Shroud and even some of Grognak the Barbarian, there are titles that look like they’re about pre-war animals in different parts of the world, some with soldiers in power armor, some ancient recordings of sports, and what looks like a few western and sci-fi films

Butch walks back over and sits beside him, throwing his arm over the back of the couch and leaning in to look at the titles. Jamie’s breath hitches at his closeness and he can feel his cheeks heating up. He tries not to show it, leaning in ever so slightly to let their shoulders brush.

“You can pick first, my treat,” Butch says while gesturing to the patchwork sheet he’d hung up on the opposite wall of the small apartment – Butch must have stitched it together himself out of whatever excess fabric he found. It’s hanging a little crooked and the projector’s STAND BY image is a bit fuzzy, but a bubble of excitement forms in Jamie’s chest regardless. He doesn’t want to read too far into things, but Butch had found this and made it a surprise specifically for them to share. That made him feel a certain kind of way.

He blinks those embarrassing thoughts away and nods, his face warm. Looking over their choices carefully, he finally decides and picks the western – he always did have a fondness for the freedom that seemed to come with being a cowboy – and walks to the projector to pop it in and press play.

He half expects Butch to make fun of his choice, but the other boy is oddly quiet, carefully inspecting his fingernails as Jamie switches off the lamps and kicks off his boots before returning to sit cross-legged on the couch. Butch still hasn’t scooted further away or removed his arm from the back of the couch, so their knees bump and he can feel the warmth of Butch’s arm behind his neck and it sends prickles through his skin.

Only as the movie begins do they realize they don’t have any speakers hooked up – so it’s completely silent in the room other than the whirring of the film in the projector.

“I didn’t even think of that,” Butch sighs and shakes his head in disappointment. Jamie just laughs.

“It’s still cool,” he assures him. “They used to have silent movies all the time apparently – especially back in cowboy days. It’s authentic,” he purses his lips at the end, trying to do his best impression of Mr. Brotch. It seems to work because Butch cracks a grin at him and snorts.

“Sure, it’ll work for now, but I saw some terminals in another apartment down here. We can check for some speakers there later,” Butch says and then his playful grin becomes roguish. “Push comes to shove, we can just swipe one from upstairs. Who’d notice a missing speaker?”

Jamie just scoffs and elbows him, turning his attention back to the film as the title screen fades in and he reads, ‘High Lonesome.’ He didn’t bother to read what the film was about, but it opens with a group of people in a wagon on a vast desert plain with plateaus towering in the distance.

There isn’t too much to see at first, but one thing that sticks with him is the impossible vastness of the sky as the camera zooms out to show a wider view of the prairie they’re riding along. He’s seen pictures of the sky, sure, but something about watching the tiny silhouettes of people move around under it was chilling – it was huge and incredibly empty. He didn’t know if what he was feeling was amazement or terror.

Despite the film being in black and white, the shimmer of the sun on the horses’ flanks as they gallop is bright enough to seem real and Jamie is completely entranced as he watches. And, luckily enough, there seem to be subtitles, so they’ll still be able to understand what’s going on.

Jamie’s trance is momentarily broken when Butch leans down and grabs something from under the couch. He returns with a box of fancy lads which he presses into Jamie’s hands. Jamie mumbles his thanks, his eyes never leaving the picture as he tears into a package and shoves a whole powdery cake into his mouth.

Butch just laughs at him and pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket. He lights one just as the young cowboy on screen does – much to Jamie’s delight – and they chuckle at the absurdity of it all.

They pass the snacks, beer, and smokes back and forth between each other as they watch their movies. When the western is over, Butch picks a film called ‘Teenage Caveman,’ saying that it has to be good because the cover has tits and a giant lizard monster on it. It ends up being the worst piece of garbage they’ve ever seen – and that’s saying a lot considering they’ve only seen one other film in their whole lives.

“That dude didn’t even look like a teenager! He had to be like thirty,” Jamie says, tossing the film into a box they decide to label ‘shit.’ According to Butch, they were like pioneers and had to record their findings, so not only were they watching the films, but they were sorting them from best to worst. As Butch had put it in his best overseer impression, they were doing future vault residents a great service and fulfilling their civic duty… by saving others from watching total pieces of trash.

“There wasn’t even a single boob,” Butch mopes, snubbing out the last of his cigarette in the cracked coffee mug functioning as their makeshift ashtray. “Talk about false advertising. The giant lizards were kinda cool, though.” Jamie smacks him upside the head.

“You wouldn’t know what a boob looked like if it smacked you in the face.”

“You take that back!” Butch laughs and tosses their snacks on the floor, lunging for Jamie who’s cackling just as hard. They’re fucking hammered at this point and they roll off the couch into a heap on the floor, knocking a crate over as they grapple at each other. They wrestle like this sometimes – it’s a great outlet for Jamie’s aggressive energy and, when they’re less drunk, Butch actually teaches him how to kick ass. Now, they’re just breathless laughs and fumbling hands as they scramble for purchase on the floor and try their damnedest to pin the other down.

Butch may be stronger on a normal day, but at the moment he’s piss-drunk compared to Jamie who still has a bit of his wits about him. He flips the taller boy over so quickly it’s almost comical and pins him, pressing his knees against his thighs and holding his wrists at his sides to stop him from getting up. He laughs triumphantly.

“What’s wrong, Butchie? You’ve never lost a fight so fast!” He grins down at the boy smugly but stops short when he sees the look on Butch’s face. It’s endearing how red his cheeks are, his hair a mess and his blue eyes wide. Butch just fixes him with those piercing baby blues.

“Don’t get cocky, Nosebleed. I let ya do it,” he says in a soft voice, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Jamie’s mouth goes dry, his eyes fixed on Butch’s unbelievably pink lips. He hates himself for how much he wants to kiss him then and without thinking he begins to lean forward. He catches himself, though, and his thoughts have him jumping off of Butch and falling back against the couch like he’s been shocked, his chest heaving. He feels dizzy and he can still smell the earthy spice of the other boy’s aftershave enveloping him like a thick haze he can’t shake.

Butch laughs and pulls himself up into a sitting position, shooting Jamie a dazzling grin from his seat on the floor. “What’s wrong, Jamie?” Butch teases, his voice only a bit slurred and a shit-eating grin creeping its way onto his face. Hearing his name come from Butch is rare and it knocks the breath out of him. All he can do is stare.

Butch clambers ungracefully back up to the couch with him, leaning awfully close and whispering, “cat got your tongue?” His breath is warm on Jamie’s face and it smells like a mixture of smoke and alcohol, something he never thought would smell so intoxicating, but of course it does – it’s Butch.

Jamie’s heart is in his fucking throat and he can’t breathe. Butch is pressed against his side and his back is against the arm of the couch. There’s nowhere for him to escape to – not that he necessarily wants to, but he was never very good with facing his feelings. Either Butch is actively trying to flirt with him or he’s fucking around, and Jamie can’t decide which one is worse.

“You’re drunk, you idiot,” Jamie laughs weakly and goes to push Butch away by the chest but stops when he feels his heart pounding under his t-shirt. The other boy’s breath hitches and his body stiffens at Jamie’s touch, his lips parting as if he were trying to think of what to say.

“So are you,” Butch finally settles with, reaching up to wrap his fingers around Jamie’s wrist. His touch almost feels like it burns. They sit like that for a moment, staring at each other, eyes like fire.

The generator chooses that moment to shut off, leaving them in pitch darkness. Out of instinct, Jamie curls his fingers into Butch’s shirt, his ears ringing at the sudden silence in the room and his breathing becoming labored. Darkness feels suffocating to him sometimes, and this is one of those moments. It lays over them like a thick blanket, and the only thing that pulls him out of his internal panic is Butch’s free hand cupping the back of his head, fingers twining through the thick, curly hair at the nape of his neck.

He doesn’t even have time to think about what Butch might be doing before he feels the press of the other boy’s lips warm against his own. Though they’re unbelievably soft, the kiss is rushed and clumsy – desperate almost – and Jamie grunts when their teeth knock together. He wastes no time returning the kiss, though, his eyes fluttering shut as he focuses on the feel of Butch’s lips against his own and the rough burn of his stubble as it brushes against his chin.

It must have just been a power surge, because suddenly the generator kicks back on and the projector screen lights up the room. Their eyes fly open and they wrench apart, still holding onto each other as if for dear life. Whatever safety they felt shrouded in the darkness is ripped away and they’re left feeling vulnerable and exposed. Jamie’s breath comes out in stutters and he dares to glance up at the other boy.

Butch’s eyes are filled with a fiery heat he can’t even describe and something akin to tenderness – which is hard for him to pinpoint since he’s never been looked at like that before. He sucks in a sharp breath. For some reason, even though he’s been dreaming of this moment for months, he just feels terrified and embarrassed – like he fucked up somehow. The panic must be written clearly on his face because Butch pulls away like he’s been slapped and falls back to the other end of the couch.

“Sh-shit, I,” Butch stutters, his hand clutching his chest where Jamie’s was a moment before, “fuck, Jamie, I didn’t mean to.” His voice cracks, sounding almost pleading. Jamie doesn’t know what to say, his mouth flapping uselessly, and it’s too much for him to handle. He doesn’t understand what his problem is. Everything in his heart is telling him to leap forward and continue kissing Butch, but he’s just too fucking scared.

“It’s fine!” He practically snaps, standing up suddenly. He’s shaking and feels clammy and he’s sure he’s as pale as a ghost – is it even possible for something good to give you a panic attack?

He glances around for his boots for a moment, but it’s still too much and he can see Butch starting to reach for him with concern in his eyes. “I have to go,” he blurts out, and he turns tail and runs.

The last thing he hears before he leaves is Butch yelling his name, but he jogs up the steps in the darkness, tripping over his own feet and bruising his knees. He knows he’s acting like a child, but he can’t bring himself to care. He is absolutely not ready to face what’s happening and he needs to be alone in his room now.

When he reaches the door, he doesn’t even stop to think about the security camera on the other side, he just slams his fist on the button and rushes out and thankfully luck is on his side this time because he can hear the camera click into the end of its circuit.

He slows down when he reaches the halls, his bare feet making a lot less noise than his boots, but fuck the floor is cold and he regrets not stopping to find his shoes. Soon he reaches his apartment, and he rushes inside, thankful to see that it’s still empty. He locks himself in his own bedroom, suddenly feeling like everything is too much, and he rips his jumpsuit off, flopping onto his bed in just his tank top and boxers and pulling the covers over his head.

He wants to scream, maybe tear his hair out a little or punch the wall. He cannot believe how badly he fucked that up. He doesn’t even know what this means for their friendship – if he had tried to make a move on Butch and the other boy ran away, he would be devastated! Would Butch even want to talk to him anymore? He worries over these thoughts for a few hours until his brain feels like jelly. The last thing he’s aware of before falling asleep is how his lips taste ever-so-slightly like the sweet mint chap stick Butch always carries around.

---

He wakes up later to the sound of incessant beeping coming from his wrist. He groans, rubbing his hands over his eyes and down his face. He feels like complete shit – hungover, most likely, and his head is swimming.

He looks at his Pip-Boy to check the time and realizes he’s overslept. It’s two in the afternoon and he’s late for his work assignment at the studio but if he’s being honest the thought of having to drag himself out of bed and sit in a room with Butch all day doesn’t seem as great as it used to. He can’t help it when he opens the messaging app, biting his lip as he prepares to read whatever might be there.

913473: it was a prank haha i rly got u good

That one was sent almost immediately after he’d left last night, according to the timestamp. Something about it makes his gut twist, gives him a bit of nausea. He’s not sure if he believes Butch or not. Once again, he’s not sure which is harder to deal with. Dated about an hour later there are a few more.

913473: jamie im sorry pls answer me 913473: don’t ignore me man if ur mad just come beat me up 913473: are u sleeping? damn out of all the times 913473: its k. i kno u need it. gnight

Jamie doesn’t realize he’s chewing his lip to shreds until he tastes blood, and he curses, wiping it away on the hem of his tank top. His eyes are glued to the screen, his heart thundering in his ears. Dated even later are a handful of other messages and he can tell by their contents that Butch must have kept drinking in his absence. The thought of that tugs at his heart a little – maybe he isn’t the only one who’s terrified of his own feelings and kind of a fuckup.

913473: i know ur asleeeep 913473: gdamn typing onthis shit. fcking sucks 913473: m drunk but idc. i kissed u jamie n itfucking rocked 913473: wasnt a prank. im srry. dont hate me 913473: u can hit me all u want. ill evenlet u win the fight. 913473: jsut dont hate me

Jamie groans and grabs his pillow, shoving his face into it a few times and letting out as loud of a yell as he dares. It’s not enough, but it will have to do. Breathless and flushed, he’s about to lay back down when a new message comes through and his heart leaps so high into his throat that he nearly chokes. He peeks at it over the pillow.

913473: yo you’re late dude. like super late! 913473: i figured id let u sleep off the hangover a bit but damn 913473: i aint gonna cover ur ass if the overseer comes knocking. i have enough of a headache. 913473: so get down here!!! 913473: speakin of headache i was drunk as shit last night. dont remember a thing past that crappy monster movie. so ignore whatever embarrassing crap i sent you, k? 913473: and dont tell anyone im a talkative drunk or ill pummel you, nosebleed.

Jamie looks at the messages in disbelief and flops back onto his bed, his thoughts racing. He can’t tell if Butch is lying or not – he knows even if Butch doesn’t remember there was still something different about what happened last night but fuck if he’s going to bring it up now.

He’s relieved, but also disappointed, maybe a little angry – either at himself or at Butch, he can’t tell. He’s shaking, wracked with nerves at the sudden sense that everything might change soon. He can’t handle change – can’t handle much, if he’s honest with himself, but change is the hardest of all. He curls his fingers into his hair, tugging ever so slightly and trying to resist the urge to pull it out in chunks. He’s losing himself in his worries again when another message notification shakes him out of it.

“Fuck!” he shouts, wishing he could rip his Pip-Boy off his arm and throw it away.

913473: NOSEBLEED GET THE FUCK TO WORK NOW 913473: its boring alone

Jamie feels like he’s actually going to tear his hair out, but he can’t help himself from laughing. He gives in and types out a quick response.

604272: for the love of GOD 604272: STFU 604272: im on my way now 604272: and i didn’t read ur stupid messages don’t worry. too many for me to care

He bites his lip again, his heart twisting uncomfortably in his chest as he writes out one more message.

604272: i don’t even remember much of the shitty movie lol, u know im a blackout drunk

There are a few minutes without a reply and Jamie starts to think maybe he’s fucked it up again, then more messages come through.

913473: u stupid fuckin idiot 913473: what would i do without u 913473: to pick on i mean

Jamie lets out a trembling sigh and gets out of bed, shaking himself free of his worries and tugging on his jumpsuit again. His hands are quivering, probably will be all day with the way his nerves are, but he can handle it.

It’s only as he’s going to leave does he realize he doesn’t have his shoes.

913473: i have your boots btw dumbass

Jamie is terrified of change. He’s terrified of his own emotions, especially when he can’t control them. He wishes things were simpler and he wishes he could have been born into a more agreeable body in a more agreeable time, but as he walks, shoeless, out of the apartment and to the studio space he shares with Butch, he feels a bit comforted in the fact that Butch might feel exactly the same way. Even if shit is messy and he fucks it up, Butch keeps coming back - and that’s good enough for him.

[sargentr]

my fave drarry fics of all time, part one

so, after discovering i’ve officially been reading drarry fanfic for 4 years now, i decided to show my (quite big) list of favorite drarry fics. there are 46 in total, but i’ve listed 10 down below. the first three are my absolute favorites but the rest are equally as good

most of my notes are fresh from when i wrote them post-reading. i’ve changed some, seeming less like a crazy unstable bitch, but fuck these were all emotional as fuck. enjoy

ps: i dont really know how to tag people i dont follow. i cant try and tag the authors later. soz!!

pps: most of these i read when i was really into a bottom!draco phase, so most of them contain that, some are switch tho (as it should be, yikes past me)

1. Everything That Happen is From Now On / ~43K 

After surviving a brutal assault, Draco tries to navigate the tumultuous waters of his mind, and embrace a bit of love and trust in his life. After all, the smallest steps forward can begin to heal the most fractured of souls

okay so before i get in to how beautiful this story is, i wanna say that it does touch on rape quite explicitly. i cried like an idiot reading the entire thing, because draco’s pain is navigated in the most beautiful and realistic way. it touches on a subject very risky for me, very personal, and i still can’t think of a better drarry story. draco’s very draco about it all, and harry is very harry about it all. it’s just perfect, and messy, and tender, and sad. i’ve reread it more than any other fic, and it doesn’t disappoint. 

2. Pocket Full of Starlight / ~46K

When Scorpius Malfoy and Jamie Potter meet at Quidditch camp, they take an instant dislike to each other. Then they discover their lives are more connected than they could possibly imagine.

ah yes. the magic of kid fics. the TASTE

parent trap au. i read this one recently, like 3 months back, and absolutely fell in love with everything about it, partially because the parent trap is legit one of my top 10 favorite movies of all time. its just. the essence, the IDEA, is soooo mf beautiful. i cant get enough of reading when harry or draco finally meet the other twin, or how they cant stop loving each other even after 11 years. my heart clenched throughout the whole thing. 

3. Temptations on the Warfront / ~180K

Draco Malfoy is forced into hiding with the Golden Trio and dragged into their search for horcruxes. What ensues is a journey of redemption, unexpected friendships and an unwanted, turbulent romance with Harry Potter. Warnings for swearing, sexual content, and dark themes. 

this was the first drarry fic ive ever read, and before this mf i HATEDDD this pairing. so you can imagine how much it took to convince me otherwise, bc i was 100% scorbus before this.

to be fair, horcrux hunting with draco involved is, possibly, my favorite trope ever. its unique. theres tension, both sexual and life threatening. in some ways it romanticizes the war, but fuck it it aint a real war. 

slowest of burns. amazing. life changing. long as hell. nothing else to be said except read it right now i demand it.

4. Clouding the Senses / ~58K

As everyone returns to Hogwarts for a final eighth year, some people are coping better with the aftermath of the war than others. After encountering a very drunk Draco Malfoy one night, Harry realises that maybe those that lost loved ones aren’t the only ones trying to escape the war. Blaise Zabini seems to think Harry can help Malfoy, that the Slytherin might actually listen to him. Harry is not so sure. Dependence is a tricky thing, and one addiction can quickly shift to another.

everyone that reads drarry loves 8th year fics, but this ones just kinda different from all those normal (yet entertaining) ones. draco’s an alcoholic in this, and one night harry tries to help him and whoops, one thing leads to the other and they start having casual sex. its really, really amazing how both draco and harry navigate the addiction, i really cant say it has any flaws. 

i know the author got a lot of hate on their fics and thats why they took them down, but they’re truly one of the best drarry authors out there. i’ve reread this a couple of times, and the tenderness, the love and confusion is all very on character. a+

5. Restraint / ~153K

Someone casts the Imperius curse on Draco Malfoy, and whatever the instructions may be, Harry finds himself an unwilling target. The encounter leaves him torn between pleasure and revulsion. As they fight in the aftermath, a tense game begins. Harry fights to convince Malfoy, and himself, that he was not affected by that initial encounter, or any of those following it.

Faced with a series of escalating encounters, Harry must come to terms with desiring things he never thought he could, things he wishes he didn’t respond to. They each use signs of arousal as weapons against each other in a mad struggle to finally shame the other into backing down for good. 

But it’s only after the game is over that Harry starts to understand.

this is by the same author of clouding the senses, and i read this just this week. at first, it’s shocking, because it plays around with consent in a very unsettling way. when communication comes in, and its starts getting healthier, you can really understand where the author found the idea of playing with consent. it is, in my opinion, 100% characteristic of how they would behave post-war, with that grief and confusion. it’s also dom/sub in some parts, and that’s mf hot. 

it also has my favorite tropes in it, but it’s a spoiler to say which one. i’ll probably mention the trope in the list along with a bunch others, but when u finish reading you’ll know which one ;)

6. Humbug / ~30K

Draco has been taking his casual relationship with Harry for granted. Visits from four key ghosts the night before Christmas just might shake up his priorities in life.

(felt like it was valid to just paste what i wrote in my notes app after reading this)

(FUCKKKKKK HOW TO EVEN START?!!!?? just a fucking bonus, draco is THE best bottom o ever exist i love my bottom son so much. this story isnt only amazing it’s excruciatingly painful to read, harry and draco have been sleeping together but harry is completely in love with him. draco doesnt see how much harry cares for him or how much hes hurting harry by treating their fling like its just that, a FLING. with that, draco is haunted by three ghosts. one of the past, the present and the future, AND THEY SET THAT IDIOT STRAIGHTTTT 1800000/10. the gays DO KEEP MF WINNING!!!

7. in your arms, rests my world / ~24K

Harry presses his mouth to Malfoy's forehead; he wants to tell him that he’ll never leave, that he wouldn’t dream of it.

“You make me feel safe, Potter” Malfoy whispers. “You keep me safe.”

the friends with benefits trope doesnt ever disappoint, top 5 tropes fr, especially if its also 8th year. harry and draco get into their little thing, but of course nothing ever is simple between them. by the preview, you can clearly see how much draco likes harry (also another 10/10 trope, the ‘i’ve been in love with harry potter since i was 11′ one). my only tiny issue with this is that harry fucks it up just a tad, but it of course adds up to the drama of it all, which i absolutely love.

noting it also touches on non-con/rape and, and all in all, is extremely angsty. one i was tense from beginning to end. but i am gonna say it ends amazingly and v happily.

8. Playing the Hero / ~29K

Nobody kissed me like Harry did. He kissed like he flew; he kissed like he duelled - with his whole being, not caring about anything else. I had never felt as vulnerable as I did when he kissed me, seizing all and any control I had over myself. But when Harry kissed me, I felt free...

so the thing about angst is that it ignites that mf feeling side u that even tho it hurts you cannot get enough of. this fic was EVERYTHINGGG. it made cry and laugh and smile. also another trope i absolutely adore is them breaking up and not being 100% ok with that, bc ding ding!! YALL STILL LOVE EACH OTHER!! 

i cant describe how i felt, honestly. i would just paste my notes (i wont bc spoilers) but it looks like i went thru sum shit. deadass

9. fine i’ll hold my breath / till i forget it’s complicated  / ~ 15K with the two parts

Harry and Draco become friends with benefits, and Harry thinks it's more complicated than it actually is.

u know, fluff is a drug. i dont know if its beucase 90% of drarry fics are about angsty get-togethers, but i had butterflies in my stomach when i read this. its adorable. draco is so clearly in love, he jusT SMILES A LOT I CANTTT. 

its cute. i love it to death. have some fluff before starting your day.

10. Un Noël très parisien / ~14K

When Draco crossed paths with Auror Potter at a political function in Paris, he was not expecting their former animosity to change into something rather more intriguing. But he could be certain their casual flirtation would not last more than the night, couldn't he?

look. i know i named a lot of my favorite tropes here, but i cant end this without mentioning how much single dad draco affects me. i love scorpius and how much he changes draco in every fic he appears. i love parent draco and i shant be silent about it (especially when scorpius is legit just a year old in this. i died)

as it states, harry and draco have a one night stand but draco thinks thats it, that it was all he was ever gonna have. he’s wrong of course, and the path it takes, with both scorpius and harry there, just melted my mf heart.

well kids that’s all i have for now. imma work on a part two with 10 other fics i really love!1

[artisticestheticreads]

SWEET TOOTH

A/N: So I saw a post from @wakandascrystal that said “hear me out,  (Y/N) got 4 older brothers who won’t hesitate to end a nigga life if they try anything with their baby sister..but The short yellow off the shoulder dress (Y/N) got on at the neighborhood cookout got Erik ready to risk it all.” LIGHT BULB. Don't worry. I got her permission and she wanted to be tagged so here it is. There are also links in this piece so watch for bold and italicized font. 

A/A/N: So, this is still a reader and Erik one shot but you will go by the nickname “Sweets” and “Baby Girl”...oh and your last name is Moore.

WARNING: Contains drug use, swearing, sexual puns, angst, and fluff

SONG RECOMMENDATION: Nite and Day by Al B. Sure!

  It was a hot July day where the neighbor was holding its 50th Annual Block Party. There was old school music playing loudly, children in swimwear running around with water toys, mothers bringing tons a food down to the eating area and men playing games like dominos, spades, and poker. The smoke of the grills filling the air making people even more hungry. At one home, a young man stood on the porch in a crisp white tee, tan cargos and white running shoes with a chain with a ring, another with a gold ankh and a matching watch on his wrist. He dreads were tossed to the left and he had a Budweiser in his right hand. He was with his long term friend Ron who looked like Odell Beckham with no tattoos and short hair. 

    ���It’s good to have you back, E. Real talk. You been gone for too long” Ron said as he rolled a blunt and began to smoke. Erik sipped his beer and said “yeah, decided to visit my real family. My Aunt is like my moms now, T is like that annoying ass big brother that think he know everything and princess was showing me some sneakers she making for me. They coo.” What he didn’t mention was the scars he had for ever kill were removed and how he was dead for like a week and brought back to life by his genius cousin and also that he had royal blood in his veins.

 Erik saw a group of four men walking to a house across the way; the Moore Brothers. From left to right, there was Darnell, Andre, Mitchell, and Junior. “Welp, there goes the Nigga Turtles”, Erik said before Ron laughed. “Yeah, they keep getting bigger to keep niggas away from Baby Girl.” Speaking of, a white Nissan Altima pulled up passed the orange sign that cut off the street and parked; that’s when Erik saw her as if they were in slow motion. Her skin was a bronze glow that glittered in the sun. Her 4c curls resembled a cloud that framed her round, babyface with big roasted chestnut eyes that can hold heat in them. She finally walked from the driver side to show her figure. Her off the shoulder yellow dress hugged her thick body oh so well. Her curves screamed ‘look at me’. Her breasts were sitting at attention and her behind was like a chocolate peach. She showed off her legs in a pair of wedges and her golden chain read ‘Sweets’. The back of her right shoulder was home to an adorable baby jaguar tattoo. 

   “There’s our Baby Girl”, Darnell said getting her families attention. She opened up her arms to her mother and father with a smile receiving hugs then her brothers waited for their turn. Erik watched as he placed his hands in his pockets and when he saw them walking in their home, Baby Girl, walking behind, he whistled. She looked around and finally saw Erik. He nodded at her with a smirk and she waved small with a wink before walking in. “Cuh, you must got a death wish or somethin’. You know damn well them negroes do not play ‘bout their sister.” Erik turned to his friend with a chuckle. “Ron, aint no one scared of them muthafuckas, dawg. You talking to a man who has killed at least 2,351 people around the world. I’m a Navy Vet, they should be scared of me.”

   “E, they don’t care about that shit. To them, you still Lean Bean to them,” Ron said as he smoked. Erik cringed at how he used to look and said: “Why you gotta bring up old shit for, huh?” He turned back to the street to see Nat and Baby Girl walking down the street with trays of food. Erik smiled and walked down catching up to him as Ron followed. “How y’all ladies doing”, E asked making her smile. “We good. How about you? Long-time, no see, E”, she said with her brow raised. “Eh, I’ve been good but who told you to get thick on me, looking a cute fine apple”, he said with a smirk. “Good one, E. But I can say the same about you”; they smiled at each other.

   He looked behind to see that the brothers were nowhere in sight. Erik got closer and she said “getting a little close there. You don’t wanna get in trouble by my brothers, do you?” He chuckled and said, “I ain’t worried about them.” When he was about to wrap his arm around her neck, he felt a palm on his chest and they looked to see it was the Moore Brothers and Sweets rolled her eyes. “Well, well, well. If it ain’t Lean Bean all grown up. What you tryna do”, Darnell asked as he signaled Mitchell to remove his hand. “Guys, we were just talking and besides, I’m not a baby anymore. I can handle myself”, Y/N said making everyone look at her. Erik held her hands up with a chuckle and said “y’all heard her. She can handle herself.” Darnell’s eyes cut to him then he said to Andre “get the food” and signaled Junior to flung her over his shoulder. Darnell said “that was strike two. First was whistling at her. We watching you, Lean. Bean”. They walked into the crowd but Sweets and Erik’s eyes were still on each other. Ron looked to Erik who stood with a look in his eyes like he wasn’t about to give up. Erik started walking and said  “that gives me one more strike. I love a good ol’ challenge.”

“Fuck. This is like high school all over again”, Ron said following him. Erik saw Baby Girl being put down, fixing her dress, poking each brother in her chest and taking the food from them walking away; the brothers walked the other way. “I need you to cover me. I’m going in”, Erik said to Ron. He saw her in the food area, dropping off the food and stood by her. “You okay, Sweets”, he asked and she looked up to him. “My bad. I’m good. I just wished they would stop babying me. I’m gonna be thirty soon for God sake.” Erik nodded, started to caress her arm and said “I get it. You the only the girl and you the baby. You gotta put yo foot down, Baby Girl, if you want them to respect you. I mean you are a grown-ass woman after all.” 

   She looked up at his face and grinned as he did the same. They noticed how the music was turned down so she took his hand into hers and made their way onto the curb with everyone else. The neighborhood got into a huge oval and the leader of the block with her family stood in the middle; she had a headset microphone. “Good afternoon, neighborhood. I just wanted to thank everyone who has come out and brought out many dishes to this affair. I have a few announcements to make beforehand though. I would like to congratulate the new addition to the Smith Family. Jeremiah Richard Smith was born at seven pounds and 8 ounces.” Everyone cheered and Erik leaned into Y/N’s ear and said “that’ll be ours one day”; she grinned. The leader continued with “and also congratulations to the neighborhood’s favorite baby girl, Y/N “Sweets” Moore for her grand opening last week of her own bakery called ‘Baby Girl’s Sweets’ located in the Crenshaw Mall. We are very proud of you”. Everyone applauds and the smile on her face lit Erik’s whole world. 

  “And finally, we would like to welcome back Mr. Erik Stevens for his safe trip back home from being in the Navy and from his home country of Wakanda.” Everyone cheered and laughed as he took a cheesy bow. “Now, everyone please bow your heads and join hands as we go into prayer.” Everyone did so but before Erik did, he looked across the way to see the Moore Brothers with joined hands and death stared across the way. It reminded him of the US Movie and he could have sworn he heard the horror version of ‘I Got Five on It’ somewhere. Y/N looked up to him and caressed his beard, saying “E, it’s ok. Look down”; he did what he was told after she kissed his cheek.

“Lord Jesus, our brother, be with us today. Bless our happy gathering, and bless this meal that we share. Protect us all, and help us to grow in your love. Lord Jesus, we praise your holy name forever. In Jesus Name, Amen.” Everyone started to make their plates and Y/N with Erik made theirs the same; grilled chicken, mac n cheese, greens, potato salad, and cornbread with cups of her Koolaid. Erik asked, “so, how the bakery doing?” She sipped her drink after she ate a chunk of mac n cheese. “It’s actually really good. My folks have been spreading the word getting me noticed. Even ABC 7 came down. You should come and try some of my cake.” Erik looked at her as she ate again and said “why try some? I want the whole thing.” She looked at him and scooted closer to him. “Be careful. You may get a sweet tooth.” He took her soft hand and kissed it. “Girl, I’ve had a sweet tooth for years now”, he said smoothly and she blushed with her cute nose wrinkled. Nat and Ron came to the table with plates and drinks were dead silent.

  “How the food, y’all”, Darnel asked with a smile and cup in his hand, sipping. “Good”, Nat and Ron said but Baby Girl and Erik only looked at one another until Junior and Andre pulled her seat far away and place their seats between them. “Yeah, Ms. Richards did the damn thing with the mac and cheese,” said Mitchell as he pulled up a seat next to their sister and began eating his plate. “Boy, if you don’t stop smacking in my ear, Ima hurt you”, she said ith her brow raised that made E smile. As the group ate, Erik and she would steal looks at one another. As Junior and she talked, Erik sipped from his cup, noticing Darnell looking at him. Nigga staring too damn hard but I got something for all of them, he thought to himself, leaning back into his chair with a smirk.

  “So, Baby Girl, when can I try that cake of yours?” Everyone at the table looked at him and she answered “anytime you would like. But, I should warn you. It will be the best cake you have ever had and ever will”, she said. “I would love to have some right now if you don’t mind”, he said and with that, she stood, looking at him with a grin of her own. “Coming. Right. Up.” She looked at Nat and they made their way to the dessert table. Erik watched her with a grin and his head slightly tilted. “Strike Three”, Andre said and Darnell added, “you think you slick, huh nigga? Tryna fuck with our baby girl like we ain’t here. That's aight. Let’s go.” The brothers stood and Ron looked at E. “Cuh, you a dead man. Real talk.” 

  “Man, shut yo ass up,” E said looking into his friend’s soul. After dessert, the group sat and talked for a little but there was no sign of the brothers anywhere. Erik and Sweets talked and laughed until the announcer said “aight, calling all men. It is time for the basketball game and Andre & Darnell volunteered to be captains. They will call their other four members one by one. Winners get a $50 Visa gift card.” They all applaud and Andre started to read off names. “Aight, so I choose Junior Moore, Toni M. Montell, Chad Jordan, and Ronald D. Duke.” Erik, Y/N, and Nat looked at Ron who stood slowly walking towards his team confused. Darnell said “on my team. I chose Mitchell Moore, Wolf Thomas, Erik ‘Lean Bean’ Stevens and Daniel Bryant.” Baby Girl looked at Erik and shrugged as he stood making his way. 

  Two hoops were across from one another a couple yards away and the guys were preparing themselves. Y/N stood in front since she was tad short and Erik slid his shirt off, making her lips part. He looked at her and walked over to her with shirt in hand. “Hold this for me, yeah”, he winked and kissed her head. The game was going and it was tied 20 - 20. Darnell’s team actually got along, like if they were family. They cracked jokes and played fought on the sidelines like nothing happened...or was it? There were two minutes left in the game and the opposite team missed the shot but Erik took the rebound. He ran down court being guarded by Mitchell. He looked over at Baby Girl with a smirk and right when he was about to shoot it, Mitchell hit him with a hard elbow to the nose resulting him to fall hard to the ground: he still made the shot. 

  Mitchell, Junior, Darnell and Andre ran to Erik as the others watched and aimed to attack him. Darnell hit him with a left hook, Erik did the same and Baby Girl screamed “stop it! Leave him alone.” She slipped out her mother’s hands and stood in front of the flying hands which stopped. “Y/N ‘SWEETS’ MOORE, GETCHO LIL ASS OUT THE WAY, NOW. HE AIN’T NO GOOD. WE PROTECTING YOU”, said Darnell but she said “NO! I CARE ABOUT HIM TOO MUCH AND HERE Y’ALL ARE! THE FUCK Y’ALL JUMPING HIM FOR! Y’ALL ACTING LIKE A GROUP OF PUSSY ASS NIGGAS! What y’all couldn’t do one on one or something? He did nothing to y’all but y’all being such fucking idiots that you think you’re protecting me but you’re actually hurting me!” The brothers looked at her and as Darnell reached his hand out, she pushed aside and smacked him with the black side of her right hand. He covered his jaw as his mother pulled them out the street. “Team Andre is disqualified. Team Darnel is the winners.” The crowd went away from the drama and back to the party. 

   Y/N stood in front of him with nose dripping blood and his head held up. “E, I’m so sorry. I-I don’t know what to do to make this better.” He snatched his shirt out of her hand and held it to his nose. “Don’t bother. Ima just catch you later”, he walked off and heard muffled crying behind. He wanted to stop and hold her but his feet wouldn’t let him. He was in Ron’s house, lying on the couch with an ice pack to his face and eyes closed. “She tried to help, E”, Ron said and Erik said “I know, Ron. But the Moores are right. I ain’t good for her. I wasn’t back then and I’m damn sure not now.” 

“E, she don’t give a fuck so why should you? I mean Sweets smacked the dog shit outta her brother and told them off. She didn’t deserve what you did,” Ron said and Erik sat up looking at Ron as he sat in his armchair. “You right. I guess I’ll go apologize since my nose stopped bleeding.” Erik went into the bathroom to see his nose slightly swollen and had a scar on it. He grabbed a band-aid to place on top and took a few aspirins, he put on a black shirt and walked out the door to the dance floor. The sky had gotten dark and the street lights were on. “Hey, Stevens. Wait up”, Darnell said but Erik kept walking. The Moores rand and stood in front of him making him stop. “What the fuck y’all want? Y’all tryna try and jump me again,” he asked and Darnel sighed. 

   “We sorry, man. I mean, we can be a bit protective but what you expect? We got a baby sister and this shit hard. She ain’t little anymore and we just don’t want her to get hurt”, Mitchell said. “Yeah, we just tryna make sure she good but I guess she can make her own decisions”, added Junior. Andre had his arms folded and said: “Y/N is literally our world and we just don’t want to see her cry.”

“But we made her cry because we tried to kick ya ass. We hate seeing her cry and all. We apologize and if it means anything, we think you cool. The laughing we did earlier was real. You a cool ass nigga, Lean Bean. No hard feelings”, Darnel said and reached his hand out. Erik looked at them all and took his hand into his shaking it. “If y’all don’t mind, Ima go to apologize to my girl”, he said walking to Y/N who back was turned. He tapped her shoulder and she looked up to him. “E, I’m really, really sorry. I didn-”, she said before his thumb grazed her bottom lip. “I’m sorry. I mean. I shouldn’t have been mad at you. Sweets, I love you a lot. I’ve always had.” His lips touched hers in a peck then eventually, as “Nite and Day” by Al B. Sure played through the air, the kiss got needy and intimate with fireworks popping in the background.

𝕊𝕀𝕏 𝕐𝔼𝔸ℝ𝕊 𝕃𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ

   It was late July when Erik walked into a huge bakery in jeans, a black tee and matching sneakers Shuri gifted him. He went to the counter to the cashier who had a big smile. “Hi, sir. How can I help you today?” Erik nodded and said, “yeah, lemme get a slice of the famous Sweetie double chocolate cake, a whole Lean Bean pie and lemme get a cute four-year-old Hershey Kiss.” With that, he heard a pair of little feet running to him. He felt a pull at his jeans and a cute little girl with her curly hair pulled into a pineapple style. She wore a pair of jeans with a cute chef jacket and a mini pink apron. “Hi, daddy”, she said smiling up at him. He picked her up and said “hey, baby girl. Where my kisses”, he asked and she kissed all over his face. “That’s more like it. Now, who told you that you can look cute pineapple today?”

  “Her mommy did”, a voice from behind the counter said. It was Y/N in a similar outfit and hair as their daughter, Mariah. He leaned down and kissed her lips softly making Mariah giggle. “Are y’all on break now,” he asked Mariah and she nodded hard and fast making them laugh. He sat her down in his lap as Y/N stood at the counter with her cashier. Mariah pulled down his bottom lip and he said “uh, baby girl. What you doing?”

“Momma told me about the stowy of when y’all fell in love and I’m making suwe youw teeth awe okay.” He looked at his daughter confused until she asked “daddy, do you still have a sweet tooth?” He chuckled and looked at his wife. “I will always have a sweet tooth, baby girl.” Sweets looked at them as he looked up at her and they winked at each other with a smile.

𝒯𝒜𝒢𝒢𝐸𝒟 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸𝒮

@muse-of-mbaku

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@melanin-samii

@theunsweetenedtruth

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[txladyj-blog]

Chapter 7 - This Time Around

a Daryl Dixon x OFC collaboration written by @xmistressmistrustx​

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character

Tags: Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Awkwardness, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Crush, Fluff and Humor, Angst and Humor, Mild Smut, Strong Language, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Some Canon Scenes and Dialogue

Chapters 15/?

Lucky wasn’t something that Jess considered herself to be. Her life hadn’t been unlucky per se, but if it wasn’t for her determined approach to life, strokes of bad luck would have dragged her down altogether. It had taken the end of the world before it dawned on her that maybe it wasn’t responsible for things that went wrong, it was merely that she’d been unable to see life’s small wins, the glimmers of goodness and positivity that shone through when she was too busy occupying herself with the darkness.

She didn’t know if it was luck that had led her to where she was in the city or if it was down to her own methodical and logical approach of planning and protecting herself. She had managed to part drag, part walk Merle back to her apartment, administer enough painkillers to knock out an Ox and forage for enough food to keep them both going for a comfortable number of weeks. Merle did nothing but sleep for the first four days after Jess had painstakingly sewn his stump up and she was glad for it. She needed the peace after fretting he would die on her in the night and feast on the plump flesh of her legs, turning her into one of the mindless monsters that now roamed the streets. She checked on him religiously and returned from every supply run with caution, her knife drawn and a loud knock at the door before she committed to entering.

Jess was smart, it was no small feat to gather medical supplies and weapons along with setting up for a life of self-sustainability and loneliness, but armed with enough self-belief and her weapons from the Faire, she worked her way around the buildings, using the rooftops as her pathways and dead soldiers and police officers as sources of body armor. She gathered herb cuttings from the balconies of other apartments, seeds for vegetables from a gardening store, buckets, tarp and plastic containers to collect water from precipitation and enough wood to carve arrows for her bow. She spent a large portion of her time in her new living space reading books from the library and trying to retain as much information about survival, self-defense, weapons, basic DIY and tools and hacks from books on doomsday prepping as possible. For Jess, knowledge was most definitely power after being thrust into the apocalypse with next to no useful skills.

After 8 days, her unexpected lodger finally woke from his blurred, meds induced slumber and tried to move around the room. Jess jumped to his aid but he quickly waved her off, the two of them having never spoke more than a few words to one another unless they had no other option. Despite their lack of communication, Jess was sure there was a kind of mutual respect forming between them. Merle had protested very little at everything she’d done for him, accepted her help, her food, her desire to keep him in one place until he recovered enough and he tried to explain as much as he could about how he'd ended up sawing off his own hand. He also never made it a secret that as soon as he was well enough, he would be out of her hair and heading back to the camp to find Daryl. Upon finishing up the stitches on his arm, he had thanked her sincerely and told her she had balls for a little, fat kid. She’d accepted the backhanded compliment with a surprising ease and had to admit that she was impressed by his resilience.

“Gotta stretch my damn legs.” He grumbled as he wandered aimlessly around the room, picking up books and throwing them down again with his one remaining hand. He studied her weapons, neatly hung on hooks on the wall, her body armor and boots on a coat stand near the door and squinted at the planters that filled the balcony outside. She had left the door open, needing to air the room out and spare herself the agony of breathing in Merle’s thunderous flatulence while he slept. Another one of his redeeming features, she figured. She watched as he swiped up his leather vest and struggled to slip it on over his shoulders without bumping his stump. Jess stood up from her spot on the sofa surrounded by books and took hold of the back of his vest, holding it out so he was able to thread his arm through with ease. He shot her an irritated look but she decided not to react, knowing that accepting help was probably not something he was used to.

When he sat back down on the opposite couch, she grabbed two tumblers and poured him a whiskey before filling her own glass. His eyes widened when he noted the bottle. A Nice, expensive whiskey. The likes that he would have stolen rather than bought from a store back in the day.

“It’s what you came to the city for, right? Booze?” She queried as she passed him the drink.

He accepted gratefully and held the glass up, taking in the deep color of the liquid and the long-missed smell.

“That’s right.” He grinned before knocking the drink back in one go. “Best painkiller out there.”

Jess scoffed and sipped her own drink. She’d never been much of a drinker, especially not hard liquor, but since she’d been in the city, she found herself able to understand a little more of why Merle sought out something mind altering. It was an escape, one in which she needed sometimes, just maybe not as often as someone like Merle Dixon. She lifted a leg and shoved the bottle across the table towards him with her sock-covered toes, signaling for him to have as much as he wanted.

“Get trashed if you want, better you do it here than out there.” She shrugged.

Not about to argue, he quickly poured himself another helping and this time, took his time working though it. Jess could feel his eyes baring into her soul as she skimmed the words on a page of a book she’d opened in her lap. She glanced up and stared right back at him, no longer afraid or intimidated by the old redneck with the cuss-laden vocabulary. If she could haul herself through the woods and get herself into a safe and seemingly maintainable situation in the middle of a walker ridden city, she could deal with Merle.

“That shit about my brother that barbie doll read from ya little diary that day…” He mentioned.

Here we go. She thought.

 “…It true?”

Jess slapped the book shut and threw it onto the couch next to her as she lay back and huffed, sending strands of her dark hair billowing into the air above her.  

“Been dying to ask me about that, haven’t you?” She sighed.

“Was on the top of my list of priorities, after not dyin’, of course.” He grinned, swirling his drink around in the glass in front of him.  

She was never a liar. Lies always spiraled into something complicated and regretful. Lies were responsible for many failed friendships and she concluded that even now, at the end of days, lies were still as poisonous as ever. But she also wasn’t about to tell Merle the complete truth about her true feelings for Daryl.

“I like him. But I think I was confusing a connection as friends with something more. I was wrong.”

A throaty chuckle emerged from his throat and for a moment, he winced in pain as if the juddering movement of his body had aggravated the life-changing wound on his arm.

“Shame. Kid could use some action. He’s wound tighter than a monkey’s nut.” He quipped. “Can’t recall the last time he got laid. Not that he’d tell me. Always was quieter than a damn mouse about shit.”

Not feeling the need to join him in the direction he wanted to steer the conversation, she just shook her head and smiled at him.

“Barbie, she uh-she tried it with him first, y’know. He turned her down. I was second fiddle but that’s alright with me. Pussy presents itself on a plate n’ who am I to say no?” He said, levelling his gaze at her and carefully observing her reaction. Giving nothing away, she kept her face as nonchalant as possible while her insides churned at the thought of Sarah trying something with Daryl.

“She hit on Daryl, huh?” She asked casually.

“True as i'm sittin' here now. He said no. Might be ‘cause he aint got a scooby what the hell he’s doin’ with the females. Or maybe he was holdin’ out for ya.”

The thought alone made Jess laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. It was outrageous to even consider it now she knew what she knew. Now she’d heard how he really felt.

“Pretty sure he never saw me like that. He made it clear he didn’t give a shit about me” She expressed, finishing her whiskey and contemplating another when Merle snatched the bottle from the table and re-filled his glass. At the rate he was drinking, he’d have the whole bottle down in an hour. Nevertheless, she held out her glass and nodded to it. He dutifully re-filled it and she sat back again.

“One thing I know about my baby brother? He’s always been real off with folks. Don’t trust nobody. No friends, no nothin. But he spent all the hours god gave him with you at that camp. When he found out you’d skedaddled in the small hours, he lost his shit.” He explained with a knowing look on his face which Jess tried to ignore.

“He did, huh?” She mumbled

“Almost shot blondie in the face with a bolt. Got up on his soap box n’ told the whole group what she’s been getting’ up to. Damn good job I don’t blush easy.” He smirked. “He’s lookin’ for ya.”

Jess shook her head again and reached into her pocket, retrieving a packet of cigarettes and throwing them into his lap across the coffee table that divided them. Merle looked down at them in disbelief.

“Don’t look so shocked. I’m a good host.” She quipped.

She’d picked up cigarettes and whiskey for him while sweeping a store for food. She had everything she wanted and needed so far save for a few comforts like ice cream and electricity. So, she figured giving Merle something he would be thankful to have once he woke up was only fair.

“He just feels guilty.” She muttered, dismissing his observation of his younger brother.

“Maybe.” He shrugged as he ripped the pack open, propped a smoke between his lips and rummaged in his jeans for his lighter. He paused before he lit the end, peering at her over the cigarette. She offered him a small nod and picked up a heavy glass ashtray from the floor and positioned it in the center of the table, gestures that told him she was fine with him smoking in her apartment and were met with an even more surprised expression. He sparked up, sat back and waved the small, white stick around as he spoke.

“Ahh I don’t wanna talk about no sentimental stuff, but the kid liked ya.”

“No, he didn’t.” Jess retorted straight away.

A flash of exasperation flickered across his face and he raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

“Argue all ya want. I practically raised that boy. He’s a little odd but I ain’t never seen him flip his lid like that about some skirt. Should go back n’ find him. Or, let him find you. ‘Cause he will. Could find a flea in a hay bale, my brother.”

It was non-negotiable to her. Daryl had made it clear how he felt and she wasn’t about to go back to a place where she was constantly ridiculed and humiliated with no one to step in and defend her. Jess took a gulp of the liquor and winced at the warmth that radiated from her stomach. Whiskey really wouldn’t have been her drink of choice. She wished she’d picked up some rum, or spent the time bothering to find some Sam Adams.

“I’m not going back there. I know you’ll go and find him and you owe me no loyalty, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell him where I am” She requested.

Merle’s eyes dropped to his glass and then back up to Jess’s waiting face, over and over as he thought over the prospect of withholding important information that Daryl would want to know. Jess knew she was asking a lot of him, but the thought of being found and forced to face what had happened before she’d left, along with the heartbreaking confession from Daryl to Merle about her meaning nothing to him was too much for her to handle. She wanted a new start, alone, with no reliance or ties to anyone. Merle was still glaring at her intermittently but she paid it no mind, figuring she would get her answer soon enough and if she didn’t like it, she would be forced to move on and find somewhere else to live.

“Saved my life.” He mentioned. “Got me booze and smokes. Sewed up my arm. Hell, I’m pretty sure ya had me doped up on some pretty shit hot pain meds these last few days too. I may be from the wrong side of the tracks but I ain't no dumbass, sweet cheeks. know when I owe somebody.”

It had never even crossed her mind when she stood in the dark store, gawping down at a bloodied, mutilated and half-dead Merle, that she should just walk away and let him die or kill him herself. Instinct kicked in and she reacted in a calmer, more together way than she had ever done previously, knowing that she had to get him out of there and away from any danger. There was simply no other option. It occurred to her as she was sitting there opposite him that she had already come a long way, she was no longer as scared. She was more accepting of her situation, more tactical and shrewder. Now, more able to survive alone than ever before, simply because she had given herself no other choice. She stifled a small smile when she studied him, looking over his heavily bandaged arm and his bloodstained shirt. She made a mental note to make sure he did some physical therapy and got a new shirt before she let him go anywhere.

“I can’t believe you cut off your hand, you fucking psycho.” She said.

“It was that or be Walker jerky.” He replied.

The two of them giggled and Merle finished his smoke and glass of alcohol while Jess got up and started to prepare him something to eat from the piles of tinned food she’d hoarded. Now, she was providing for two of them for the time being and she’d felt it necessary to stock up. She’d hauled him out from near death, so she wasn’t about to starve the man that had been surprisingly pleasant to her, going against everything she’d expected of him. Maybe, just maybe, there was the same element in Daryl after all. But that no longer mattered to her.

That night, while her houseguest snored noisily on the couch in an alcohol induced coma, Jess settled on her bed and opened her journal. 

Merle has turned out to be much more personable than I ever imagined. Maybe that’s because I saved his ass. Or, maybe it’s because underneath it all, he’s actually OK as long as you know how to deal with him. I wouldn’t go as far as to say I trust him. But right now, I have the upper hand and he is relying on me to get him well enough to leave and go and find Daryl.

Daryl. It’s not like I don’t think about him. I do. I do miss him. Or, rather, I miss the person I thought he was and I remind myself of what I heard that night. I should have known better, it’s not the first time I developed a crush on somebody that was way out of my league. It’s my frequent reminder not to get attached to anyone, not to feel anything for other people or it will be me that suffers. There are only a few survivors left and I have to look out for myself. It’s been five weeks and I’ve not seen another living soul apart from the alcoholic redneck that sleeps on my couch and stinks to high heaven.

Besides this, I have set up quite the fortress here, I think I could live here for a long time. That’s if Merle doesn’t tell Daryl where I am. I’ll be forced to move if he does. I don’t want to be found. Just leave me be. This way, I may get physically hurt but I can deal with that, I’m studying books to deal with every possible outcome. But I just can’t handle more emotional turmoil. As much as I miss him.

I managed to get a punchbag from one of the other apartments in the building along with some weights. I intend to train and improve my stamina, heaven knows when I’m going to have to run and keep running, so I intend to be ready for anything. The herbs are taking and the bell peppers I planted on the roof are well on their way. So far, I’m doing well. I just can’t figure out how to get rid of the Walker behind the grate in the elevator shaft on the first floor. But he’s not a problem right now. His cage keeps him contained and some days I even wonder if he can hear me when I sit on the steps and tell him about my day.

Maybe I am going crazy. 

 =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Daryl had been looking for Sophia for hours. Days actually, but on this one particular occasion, in the blistering sun atop of a nervous horse that had bolted at the sound of a Walker and sent him tumbling down a hill into a watery area below, he was sure he’d had better days and was seriously rethinking his belief in Sophia still being alive. But still he pressed on, even injured at the bottom of a ravine, his eyes fluttered open in the stark light of the sun and his body thrummed with pain, but he managed to get up, treat his wounds and carry on.

God damn horse.

Where he got his strength and determination, he wasn’t sure but he could only really credit his terrible home life and childhood for instilling a kind of armor around him. A protective wall that he never let anyone pass. Surviving was second nature to him; he simply didn’t know any other way to be. Sophia was a child, alone in the walker-filled woods and Daryl couldn’t help but think of the time when he had found himself lost, back in the days when Walkers were something one only saw in a horror movie. He was merely a child and was missing for eleven days. Little did his father know, Daryl eventually found his own way home, wandered into the kitchen and fixed himself a sandwich like nothing had happened. It was Daryl’s way, even back then, he relied on no one by himself and as the years passed, he still lived by the same rule; just get on with it.

Of course, nothing was ever easy anymore and his departure from the ravine was trickier than he’d planned. Reaching the top by literally dragging his bleeding body through the mud and shoving away hallucinations of his brother, ridiculing him for not making any effort to find him. He had to keep telling himself it was down to him hitting his head and not insanity creeping in. Slumped onto the flat woodland ground, he was never more grateful to see even terrain before. He glanced down at the state of his body, a broken bolt in his side from the fall sent spikes of pain through his veins that turned his stomach and blurred his vision. His head thudded back onto the mud as he took a minute to compose himself and figure out how he was going to get to his feet with his side impaled by a piece of wood.

“So, you can teach me not to die but you can’t quite manage it yourself, huh?”

Jess’s voice made his eyes snap open and he frantically scanned the area around him, seeing nothing but trees until she stepped out from behind a tree, her pretty smile broad and her clothes clean.

“Jess?” He croaked.

“Time to get up, sleepy head.” She instructed, crossing her arms. Daryl noticed her woolen sweater looked brand new, her hair was shiny and well-conditioned, her skin was clean.

“I-I tried to find you.” He rasped, sitting up and sucking a sharp breath in through his teeth when the pain rampaged through his nerves.

“Took a bolt to the side for the girl, but you just gave up on me.” She pointed out.

Daryl’s sweaty brow furrowed when he peered up at her as the sun shot out from behind her, silhouetting her in the light until she was gone. He quickly checked over his shoulders and rubbed at his face.

“Jess?”

Nothing. She wasn’t really there. Nothing more than a mirage, a figment of his imagination and most likely a result of a hard knock to the head. Seeing her again made his heart hurt regardless of if she was real or not. He missed her and the burden of ceasing to look for her after finding her note was now weighing even heavier on his shoulders. His hands fell to his sides, clawing up clumps of dirt as he drew in a deep breath and pushed through the pain of getting to his feet.

  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Carol rapped softly on the door before turning the handle and quietly gliding inside. The tray in her hand contained soup and water that she’d prepared after hearing that Daryl was refusing food and just wanted to get patched up and back out into the woods. Carol hadn’t ever felt gratitude like it, nor had she ever been so surprised at one person’s sheer selflessness. Her child had been missing for days and Daryl had worked tirelessly, relentlessly and without any decent rest in order to find her. She didn’t know if he was harboring some kind of guilt over Jess and his brother, but as long as he was using it to find her little girl, she couldn’t complain. That was until now, until he’d almost died in the process.

The room was dim, the drapes drawn and the surfaces dusty from neglect. Daryl lay facing away from her, his side sporting a large square of gauze and bandages. Every part of his exposed skin was covered in scars, Carol could see that some of them were new, from the past day. But some, the largest ones were at least a decade old and her chest constricted with thoughts of the violence that she had known and how it could cause such trophies of trauma upon a person’s skin.

Placing the tray on the nightstand, she leaned over him and tenderly kissed the side of his head. Initially, he recoiled but she knew why and waited until he relaxed and let her offer her small token of appreciation and affection. He rolled over slightly, able to catch her eye for a moment and seeing them filled with worry. She sat on the edge of the bed.

“I couldn’t go look for Merle.” He whispered. “Gave up on Jess. Can’t find Sophia neither. Fuckin’ useless.”

Having known him only a few months, it was enough for her to come to the conclusion that Daryl was not like other people. On the outside, he was hostile but inside, he was sensitive, shouldering blame for deaths and caring so deeply about others that it ate away at him when they lost someone. But Daryl never spoke about it, preferring instead to internalize it all and simmer away, alone at the edge of the camp while glaring at the others and trying to understand how they could be so open and free with their emotions. Daryl never uttered a word about his feelings. That was, unless it was to Carol.

He couldn’t figure out exactly when it was that they’d become close but he suspected that his loss of Jess and Merle and Carol’s husband being turned by Walkers had somehow brought them together. He knew she was a broken soul, just as he was but neither of them needed to discuss it. Out of everyone, Carol was the one that seemed to understand him the most without even trying.

“No, Daryl. You did more for my little girl today than her daddy did in her entire life.” She promised.

He continued to look at her, saying nothing but speaking volumes with his expression. He was tired, almost defeated and knew that she would manage to say something to quell the exhausting guilt in his heart.

“And Jess… she didn’t want to be found.” She added.

Daryl resumed his previous position, fluffing up the pillows under his head and settling down.

“How are you feeling?” She asked.

“Like Andrea shot me.” He grunted.

An unfortunate accident it may have been, but Andrea’s trigger-happy attitude from the RV that evening had left Daryl in the dirt with a bullet graze to his temple and in his delirious state, he was unable to fathom exactly what had happened. Carol thought it was no wonder Andrea had mistaken him for a Walker after he’d staggered from the trees, covered in dirt and mud, snarling at everyone with a crazed look in his eye. A split-second decision was all it took and as luck had it, Andrea was still a bad shot with a rifle.

“You need to recover before you go back out there. I know you; you’ll want to push it. You almost got yourself killed. Took a bolt and a bullet today, all for Sophia. I can’t even begin to thank you.” She confessed.

“Don’t want no thanks.” He dismissed “I didn’t do nothin’ that Rick or Shane wouldn’t have done.”

Carol scoffed from behind him, rendering his last sentence as complete rubbish.

“I don’t see them lying in a bed with a hole in their sides. You’re every bit as good as them. Every bit.” She affirmed.

A silence from him told her it was her time to depart, pushing Daryl too much was likely to result in him lashing out, especially when she considered his current state of mind along with the fact that he was physically exhausted. She got to her feet and tapped the glass on the tray, the ringing of her nails on the glass reminding him that she wanted him to eat and drink something. In the doorway, she paused when she heard him speak again.

“Sophia, she's out there, I know it. I found her doll” He murmured.

“Maybe. Maybe Jess is too.” She suggested. “You can admit it, y’know”

He rolled onto his back, craning his neck to see her stood half in, half out of the room with her arms wrapped around herself.

“Admit what?”

“That you miss her. I know you two were good friends.” It was a hazardous approach for Carol to take due to her knowledge of his reluctance to talk about Jess. Every time someone mentioned her name his temper flared and he wasted no time in reminding everyone that she was probably dead and that they shouldn’t bother talking about her anymore. Carol knew it was a defense mechanism and in true Daryl form, his rage expelled itself in a series of abusive and offensive remarks.

“Ain’t gotta admit shit. Leave me alone.” He grunted.

“OK, but just eat something. Please. Or you won’t have the strength to get out of bed, let alone pick up that crossbow.”

With that, she left the room and closed the door behind her. A few hours sleep and some kind of sustenance would undoubtedly help his mood a little, but she wasn’t betting on him becoming a ray of sunshine anytime soon. She knew he had a better version of himself inside, but the loss of his friend and brother had began to chip away at it, eroding it day by day and she worried that eventually, there would be nothing left.

  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

A month had passed and Jess was sitting on the steps of the stairwell in her apartment block. She now had free reign of the entire building, every dwelling now empty and safe thanks to her tireless efforts to secure the building and ensure she had enough space to keep any supplies she might need. Her days had become routine, but she liked it that way. The mornings consisted of rising from her bed at sunrise and heading up to the next floor, where she had turned an elderly couples’ home into a gym. An hour’s rigorous exercise a day and a limited diet had seen her weight drop drastically over the four weeks she had been in residence and she was now confident she could run a life-saving distance without stopping at least. Late mornings were spent tending to the growing vegetables and herbs and checking the main street below for any swellings in the number of Walkers. If there was, she would make her way across the rooftops to the other side of town, where she would set off firecrackers or make enough noise to wake the dead all over again in order to draw them away and set them on a different path that didn’t include gathering outside her new home. In the afternoons, she scavenged and spent some time carving arrows on the steps with Ben- The Walker trapped in the elevator shaft. He wore a janitor’s uniform with his name embroidered on one side. She waffled on as if they were two best friends in a bar, telling him about her day and even regaling him with tales from comic cons and her opinions on the best beers in Texas. The evenings consisted of rooftop target practice and tedious conversations with Merle while she aided him with his physical therapy. He complained non-stop, telling her that he didn’t believe in all her ‘therapy shit’ and that he would be just fine without it. Eventually, he yielded and allowed her to help him with the advice of yet more books from the library.

Ben swayed back and forth as she held up an arrow for him to see, although she wasn’t quite sure if he could really see anything. More that he just seemed to know she was there with whatever part of his brain was still active enough to make him walk and want to eat people.

“I’m getting pretty good at this.” She mused with a smile. Ben reached through the elevator grate, his purple fingers with snapped nails grasping at her hand holding the arrow. She quickly snatched it away and slid the arrow into her quiver before standing up and throwing it over one shoulder. Her daily supply run had taken longer than usual after she ran into some unsavory undead in a camping store while trying to bring back more gas canisters. She had returned with her prize but decided to take some time to herself to carve some arrows before she had to endure Merle’s uncomfortable stare and chain smoking.

“Later, dude.” She said to Ben over her shoulder as she stomped up the steps to her front door. She stopped when she noticed the note pinned to the wood.

‘Gone to find my brother. Took some food and meds. Thanks, Sugar tits. M.’

Next Chapter 

[vore-scientist]

Late Night Request

(SFW GT M/f platonic safe/soft vore fluff No warnings) A (mini) Tale of the Mystic Woods

Princess Sophia and Yonah the Wizard are my OCs, they are both adults, and part of my Mystic Woods series.

Spiritual companion to this story --- A pinprick of light floated above Sophia’s right hand as she watched the giant wizard take slow, silent breaths. A stark contrast to her own nervous state.

With her left hand she fiddled with a vial containing a glass paste. Her body felt hot but the air felt icy on her skin. She was shaking. Her mind and heart were racing as she tried to focus on the slumbering giant.

Yonah’s bushy black hair was untied and fanned out behind him and over his shoulders. It looked super fluffy and she nearly jumped into it to entangle herself. But the adorable mess didn’t make him look any less large and powerful. Even in his sleep he was intimidating, not that Sophia was intimidated by Yonah, not anymore. He could certainly spook her when he played up his “evil” persona, but she didn’t fear him. With a deep sigh she looked at the vial of paste, then she reached out to his cheek and shoved hard. “Hey!” she whispered. “Nnnnmnrrr” the giant moaned in his sleep and a lazy hand came out from under the blanket to gently swat at the offending hands of the human and scratch the area she’d touched. “Come on! Wake up!” she said, and pulled at his eyelids. Yonah came to consciousness slowly and tried to blink the sleep from his eyes. Tried because someone was holding onto them rather forcefully. “Sophia?” He sat up on his elbow, scooping a hand under the princess. She sat down and was at eye level. There was a light spell up but it dimmed as she slapped a hand to her head and said a new spell. “FUCK!” Brilliant violet light filled the room and he wasn’t fast enough to shield his eyes from the explosion of purple dust that flew from the princess. Sitting up properly he dropped Sophia into his lap as tears streamed down his face. Painfully, he coughed as the dust dissipated.  “Uwwowhh” he rubbed at his stinging eyes “That was uncalled for!” Wait. That was the activation of her curse. Quickly he cast his own light spell, a dim one, and through tears looked down at the glass princess. The light shimmered off her. Her face serious. “Eat me.” 

Her voice warbled like a wind chime. “No, I don’t want to!” With a loud RRWRWWRW his stomach betrayed him. But what his stomach wanted and what he wanted didn’t exactly match up. After such a rude awaking he was disinclined to do anything for her. “Liar! Eat me!” she took handfuls of his nightgown and started to climb up his chest. Something was not right. He pulled the princess from his clothes and sat up against the backboard of his bed, pulling his knees to his chest. He held the princess in cupped hands. She was trembling! Was she ok? He placed her on his knees but he maintained contact, stroking her side. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he said, low and calm.  Sophia pouted and folded her arms. “Nothing! I just want you to eat me? You always want to eat me so what’s the problem?”  Yonah snorted but her heavy glass hair didn’t react, nor did her solid glass eyes blink. That was always creepy. “The problem is your attitude. Why do you want me to eat you?” As if she couldn’t keep up the facade Sophia’s anger faded and despondency grew around her. She looked away. “I just… Feel too real and exposed... I don’t know how to explain it.” She leaned into his hand. Oh dear. Existential crisis. He understood all too well. Life was suddenly and acutely intense and real. Your responsibilities and purpose were too much and you just wanted to pause the ride, not be a part of it, if only for a moment. “Reality is overwhelming aint it. Especially at night?” he said, rubbing a finger on her cheek which made a squeaking noise. Sophia sniffed and nodded. “I don’t want to exist right now.” /Too bad/ thought Yonah, but what he said was “You know you still exist in my stomach right? I can feel you quite acutely. I’ll know you still exist.” Sophia smiled. /Good/ Yonah thought.  “You don’t count.” Dramatically he drew breath and put a hand to his chest, “I’m wounded by your words! I count in this world just as much as you!” Now Sophia laughed, not without a hint of sadness or despair, but it wasn’t fake amusement. Recovering Sophia stood up, still a bit wobbly. “Listen, if you really don’t want to eat me-” she slid down his leg and to the edge of the bed. “Not so fast!” he picked her up again, sitting her back on his knees and he leaned close, his nose nearly touching her feet. “Do you really think it will help?” “Why are you trying to change my mind?” Yonah withdrew his head “I don’t--” he leaned forward again narrowing his eyes and smiling “I’m an idiot?” Sophia kicked at his nose “You sure as shit are! An idiot who hasn’t eaten me yet!” “Not for long!” he raised his head a bit and opened his mouth, “Your sanctuary awaits” he said and held it open, tongue over his teeth. Getting to her knees she leaned against the bridge of his nose. “Finally,” she kissed between his eyes, “and thanks”. Then she ducked under his nose and crawled in. Leaning back Yonah gripped the princess between his teeth, supporting her legs with a hand. She was reaching her hands to the back of his throat, tickling it it, until he lifted his chin up and she slid down in synch with a swallow. One. Two. Three more and she was no longer in his mouth. A fourth and he could breathe again, the pressure she put on his airways falling away into his chest. A fifth, sixth, seventh. He felt her she curl up into his stomach, sigh deeply, and shudder once more before going restfully, comfortably, still. Before laying back down Yonah flipped the hourglass on the nightstand. There was no way he was going to wake up before her curse wore off, but the charm on the timekeeper would wake him up in time to get her out or reset the curse. He lay on his back and focused on Sophia. She didn’t often ask to be eaten, and he wished that when she did it was under more pleasant circumstances. More often than not she asked when down in the dumps. But who was he to say no? On it’s own it wasn’t the best coping mechanism but he figured as long as he talked to her and didn’t just let her stew in her emotions then there was no harm in it. Plus he got to eat her! And feel full and useful! So full. So amazingly full. There was really nothing like having an entire human in his belly. They fit so perfectly. “Excuse me!” Sophia jerked as he rubbed at his full midsection, “I’m trying to not exist!” Right. He had forgotten. He lay his hand over her instead, letting the weight of his palm press into her figure. Just an assurance from an outside sense that she was there. And they both fell asleep.

[FIN]

[Thanks for reading! please reblog! Or message me telling me what you think! I crave feedback! For more mystic woods go to vore-scientist(.)tumblr(.)com(/)tagged(/)+mystic+woods+story but remove the () or search ‘mystic woods story’]

[pizzas-will-rule-the-world]

awww yeah!! how about something with davey? fluff or angst your choice :)

Thank you for the prompt and sorry I didn’t post it until now!! 

Word count: 1600 ish

Ships: None

Genre: A bit hurt/comfort I guess? Kinda

Era: Canon

Tags: Badly written accents tbh

Becoming friends with a gang of newsboys was not as simple as Davey would have thought a couple of months ago.

He hadn’t reflected on it too much in the beginning since they all had been caught up in the euphoria of winning the strike. He remembered it vividly, all of their relieved and shocked faces when they had been brought the news that they could go back to work. The cheers. The hugging. No one had left Davey out, of course not. He had been as much a part of it as any of the others. They had celebrated and laughed and cheered, and he had gone home with a soft smile on his face and looking forward to the prospect of going back to work the next morning.

But as the weeks passed he started to notice a shift in attitude. Nothing big. Casual but meaningful smirks shared by the newsies when Davey came to the circulation gate one morning. A clap on the shoulder that could have been a friendly gesture but felt a little too harsh and reminded him a little too much of getting knocked down by the police. And a lot of jokes made on his expense that he had no choice but to smile through.

“Heya Dave, joining us today?” The smile on Mush’s face was kind, but Davey couldn’t help hearing a certain bite to the words. Blink was standing beside him, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt.

“Uh, yeah,” Davey answered and glanced around the crowd of boys waiting for the morning paper. “It’s, well… Sunday, so…”

“No school?” Blink asked, and what was that look he gave Mush? Like they were having a conversation with no words needed? Something twisted in Davey’s stomach and he glanced down at his feet.

It was true he didn’t sell with the newsies every day anymore; his dad had gone back to work, so the sons of the Jacobs’ family were officially back in school. Coming back to routine and the same old faces had felt safe, but if he was being honest, kind of boring at the same time. He looked forward to the sundays spent with the newsies more and more for every week passing.

He only shrugged as an answer to Blink before Wiesel appeared and the group of boys lined up to buy their papes.

The next week it was Jack. Everything had been great so far. The weather was nice and lots of people were out and about, so by lunchtime Davey had almost got rid of all his papes. He had just leaned back against a building for a short break when Jack strolled up to him. His bag was carelessly slung over his shoulder and, not to Davey’s surprise, empty.

“You good?” Jack asked and stopped next to him.

Davey hummed and closed his eyes. “Just resting for a minute,” The brick wall was warm against his back.

“Resting, huh?” Jack elbowed him in the ribs. “Good, people will need a break from seeing your ugly mug.” He laughed and nudged Davey again, who opened his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows.

When he finished selling his last pape a few hours later, the sun was beginning to set. October was approaching, and with it a promise of colder nights and rainy days, but for now there was still a mildness in the breeze and birds happily chirping despite the late hour. Davey started the walk back to his family’s apartment. His feet ached, and he felt the exhaustion in every bone of his body, but that was not the sole reason why he walked slow with a deeply furrowed brow. There was a twist in his stomach that he could not get rid of.

He was still a good few minutes from the lodging house, so he didn’t even realize he was crossing Duane Street until a voice caught his attention. “Oh, hiya Davey!”

He glanced up and came face to face with Crutchie. In the gloomy evening light his clothes all looked the same shade of gray, and his freckles that were usually so prominent on his face now started to fade as the sun shone less and less every day. He was still grinning, though, leaning on his crutch with one hand and carrying his bag in the other.

“Hey, Crutch,” Davey said and forced himself to smile back. “Good day?”

“Yeah,” he said and nodded. “Sold all my papes. That headline about that kidnapped gal really made it easier. You going to the lodging house?”

Davey glanced down the street and then shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’m… Uh, pretty tired.”

Crutchie raised his eyebrows. “Okay. You good?”

The rattle of a carriage made Davey jump. He was so used to the sounds of the city he sometimes tuned them out until they surprised him at the worst times. When he turned back to Crutchie, he shook his head again. “I’m fine, thank you.”

Crutchie didn’t say anything for a couple of seconds, before shrugging. “If you say so.” He turned to walk down Duane Street in the direction of the lodging house. “But if you need-”

Without knowing why, Davey suddenly moved and sized a hold of Crutchie’s shirt before he could walk away. “Wait!”

Crutchie, who hadn’t expected the pull, wobbled on the spot for a second before regaining his balance. “Damn, Davey,” he muttered and smoothed out his shirt, which was already so rumpled it didn’t make a difference. “You about to scare the living daylights outta me.”

“Sorry,” Davey said, feeling a rush of warmth shoot through his body. He made sure Crutchie was standing steadily on the ground before he let go. He chewed on his lip before continuing. “Uh, okay, I might have a problem.”

Crutchie straightened up and turned his full body towards Davey. “What’s wrong?”

Davey hesitated for a moment. “I, uh, sometimes, feel like…” The words were having trouble coming out of his mouth. It was like they got stuck somewhere between his throat and tongue. “...Like the newsies, ah… Don’t, like me?”

Crutchie stared at him in silence for a long moment before his lips quirked into a smirk. “The newsies?” he asked, an eyebrow raised so high it almost disappeared behind his fringe. “Like, the Duane Street newsies?”

“Yes.”

A laugh escaped his mouth and he shook his head in disbelief. “Who are you talking about? Who don’t like you, Dave?”

Davey felt a little taken aback by the teasing tone of voice. “Well, I… I don’t know!” he exclaimed, feeling the frustration seeping through into his voice. “You all always laugh at me, or insult me, or uh, make me feel like I’m stupid for not knowing anything about selling-”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Crutchie said and held up one hand in surrender. The smile had slipped off his face. “Davey, I didn’t mean it like that. Have anyone said anything to you?”

Davey hesitated for a second. Was he throwing his friends under the bus by telling Crutchie? Somehow, it felt like a violation of trust. Though, of course, Crutchie himself was more than aware of the unspoken rules of the newsboys. Would he have asked if he though Davey would get in trouble with the others for telling?

“Uh, it’s just…” Davey wet his lips. “Mush, and, um… Blink, they said…”

Crutchie nods slowly. “Looked at each other like they knows a secret that you ain’t?” Davey nodded numbly. “You go to school, Dave. You might actually have a future, with a good job. It’s more than you can say for many of us.” Nothing in Crutchie’s voice felt self deprecating, but Davey still glanced down at his bum leg. He caught himself and quickly looked up again. If Crutchie had noticed he didn’t say anything. “If I’m right, they’s jealous, plain and simple. Teasing you about being in school is just them hiding that.” When Davey didn’t say anything, he sighed and changed his grip on his crutch. “Look, I knows it can seem strange, but that don’t mean they don’t like you. You’ve ever seen Race and Albert talking? You can think they hate each other by the way they insult one another, but they’s best friends.”

“But-”

“Nah,” Crutchie said with lots of conviction. “They don’t hate you. Many times it’s the opposite, teasing you means they like you.”

“But why?”

He shrugged. “Why not? It’s all for fun.”

Davey put his hands into his pockets. “I know I’m not like the others, and I know that might make the others treat me differently…”

Crutchie quirked his head to the side. “Like I said, maybe that’s a part of it. Maybe it’s because you have a family. And you’re smart, and you go to school. It’s easier to tease people who they’s jealous of,” He glanced behind Davey, down the street. “Or maybe it ain’t got nothing to do with you at all.”

Davey felt a little taken aback. “You… You think so?”

Crutchie grinned. “I’m just sayin’, don’t worry about it. Look, I gotta go before curfew.” He clapped Davey’s shoulder and started hobbling past. “See ya next sunday,” he called out and then disappeared in the dark.

Davey stared after him for a moment, before turning and starting to walk home.  Maybe Crutchie had been right, after all. Maybe it was all in his head. He continued through the city, walking past houses and streets on his way home. The money he had earned that day was clinking happily in his pocket. After a few minutes a small smile spread across his face, and the knot in his stomach loosened slightly.

TAGLIST

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[chungha-supremacist]

No borders - Chapter 2

word count: 5003

SUMMARY:

“It’s just us 5 right?”

“Forever.”

“No men allowed… ever. Let’s promise to eachother that we will never let any man come in between us!”

“Never!”

Naive promises told at a young age, just between 5 best friends. They promised their world to eachother, “best friends ‘till death breaks us apart”. 10 Years passed. The same 5 girls, but no longer blinded by those “stupid promises”. It will be broken. The promise of a lifetime. The lust of love is what makes us all see unclear. We lose our friends, or soulmates, we fall for the unknown, we fall for lies and for the feeling of being important to someone who will drag us far away from who truly matters.

“Forget about the world… forget about them… right now, it’s only me and you. They don’t need to know that I love you.”

CATEGORY: F/F; F/M

Fandom: RED VELVET (Band), NCT (Band)

Relationships: Park Sooyoung / Kim Yerim; Bae Joohyun / Kang Seulgi; Son Seungwan / Nakamoto Yuta

Characters: Park Sooyoung; Kim Yerim, Bae Joohyun, Kang Seulgi, Son Seungwan, Seo Youngho, Jung Jaehyun, Nakamoto Yuta, Dong Si Cheng, Wong Yuk Hei, Lee Taeyong, Chung Ha

Additional Tags: friendship,angst, mistrust, lies, cheating, lesbian interactions, smut, fluff, fashion, models, rich life, etc

RATED: SMUT, FLUFF, ANGST.

CHAPTER 2

Sooyoung found herself in the most awkward encounter with her alleged “boss” at the dinner, in a pub where all you could see were horny couples grinding on eachother on the dance floor and drunk dudes whistleing and winking at her. She felt out of context, especially because all Yuk Hei was doing was drool over every chick who would pass his sight.

“Could you be any more obvious…” sighs Sooyoung.

“Jealous?” says Yuk Hei now smirking at her.

“You’re drunk. Maybe it’s better if I will drive your car to your home, so that I make sure WE get there safe and I can take the subway to my home-“

“I’m not drunk, Sooyoung. I just wanna have some fun tonight, whether if it’s gona be with you or with some random chi-“

Sooyoung was so full of it that her punch met the table in the loundest way possible which made Yuk Hei forget his words.

“Hey.. I was joking, ok..”

“I am not joking here, Yuk Hei. If you just wanted me to come here for you to get me drunk and get laid with me, you should’ve said so. Goddamnit, boys are all the same!” screams Sooyoung, now being angrier than ever before, while grabbing her purse and running out of the pub.

She felt like tearing up. She can’t stand this feeling anymore. Every guy she tries to even be friends with, they all end up wanting “something” back… She is sick of these “species” called males.

“SOOYOUNG!”

Sooyoung doesn’t bother to turn around and she wipes the small tears from her eyes hearing Yuk Hei running after her. Soon, he catches up to her and grabs her hand firmly, turning her to face him, centimeters away from eachother.

“What.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what. Nothing happened there, I’m just tired. Take me home. Or I’ll take the subway.”

“I’ll take you home Sooyoung.”

They were now standing in the even more awkward silence than the atmosphere at the pub. Yuk Hei was pretending to be focused on driving and Sooyoung was desperately refreshing her messages waiting for a message from Yeri who seemed to have been offline the entire day. She sighs.

“What’s wrong..?” says Yuk Hei while putting one hand on her leg.

“Don’t touch me.” And she throws his hand away.

Yuk Hei suddenly stops the car at an empty gas station.

“Sooyoung, I know you don’t have a good impression of me-“

“Damn right.”

“But tonight I invited you to change that.”

“Does it seem like it worked?”

“No.. but I want to make it work.”

“What do you even want Yuk Hei…”

“You.”

Sooyoung swears she gaged at this word.

“Excuse me?”

“Sooyoung… give me a chance.”

“You are my boss!!” quietly screams Sooyoung.

“So? I’m technically not. I am just the chief of your department Sooyoung, and nobody would care anyway. One chance. Let me prove you that you are the only woman I’ve been thinking about lately.”

The strong smell of liquoir was now filling Sooyoung’s nostrils and she knew what she had to do.

“You are drunk and saying nonsense. Grow out of it. Tomorrow you wont even know what you just said now and you will get back to sleeping with 10 different girls per night.”

“That is not true!!” protests Yuk Hei.

“Oh yeah? Tell me more of how you fucked almost all the models from our company until now except me and Chung Ha. Hmm, I wonder WHY you chose exactly me and her to go out with you tonight. Luckly Chung Ha is not a stupid, sensitive person like me.”

Now Sooyoung feels more uncomfortable than ever. She just wants to run out of this stinky car.

“You- How do you know that??!! You got proof, honey??!!” screams Yuk Hei, now seeming like a monster in comparison to the innocent Sooyoung.

“I- BECAUSE I HAVE EARS YOU DUMB SLUT! DON’T YOU THINK I TALK WITH THE GIRLS YOU USE?? Don’t you think they cry to me after you ruin their lives with sweet lies, promising them the moonlight and in the end, leaving them on the edge of killing themselves??!! They feel like worthless whores after you use them!” Sooyoung can’t believe she just had the guts to say this.

“Sooyoung.” Says Yuk Hei while locking the doors of the car.

“W-what. W-what are you doing??” Sooyoung is now on the verge of crying and screaming.

“I will teach you a lesson, Sooyoung. Right here, right now.”

Yuk Hei unzips his pants and Sooyoung swears that she’s going to start crying.

“Yuk Hei please… Let me go, I don’t want you.” Cries Sooyoung while hitting on the door to open.

“After this, you will want me, baby girl.”

He takes his pants off revealing his expensive underwear and his very erected member.

Sooyoung is a smart girl. She wipes off her tears and crawls on top of him.

“See, you already know what you have to do baby girl. Now please your boss and maybe we’ll see about a promotion or something-“ but Sooyoung turns around and presses the button to unlock the doors. She falls on the stone-cold ground of the empty gas station and starts screaming for help. Right when she gets up, Yuk Hei grabs her hand animalistically and covers her mouth. Sooyoung bites with all her power on his finger and Yuk Hei screams in pain. She left her purse in his car, but she couldn’t care less. She is now running, screaming for help, but there was hardly anyone on the street. She runs for the subway station where she finds a tall man, dressed in a suit, lazily scrolling on his phone while waiting for the subway. She runs to him and grabs his hand desperately like her life depended on it. The male stands up in fear.

“Please help me. I am being chased.”

“By who?”

“There is a guy! Tall, black hair, wearing a black shirt and blue jeans. H-he is trying t-o-“

“Don’t worry, stay by my side and if you see him, I will make sure nothing will happen to you, alright? Calm down please.”

Sooyoung takes a seat next to the man who looked so neat and who smelled like vanilla. She is trying to catch her breath when she realized her shirt was half unbuttoned and she lets out a small cry.

“I’m sorry…” she sobs.

“It’s alright. Don’t worry.” Says the man trying to reassure the insanely scared girl.

The subway arrives in the station and they both go in, no sign of Yuk Hei still following her.

“Do you think he is still looking for you?”

“That guy… He is my boss… I will have to face him at work… Or at least when I will apply my resignation.”

“Aha… Do you live far from the subway station where you get down? I can take you to your place if you’re still scared.”

After what happened, Sooyoung couldn’t trust anyone. Especially a stranger. She had no phone or money whatsoever at her so she had no one to call.

“May I use your phone..?” she quietly asks.

“Of course.” Says the man while taking out his huge, expensive phone.

Now the problem was: the only phone numbers she knew were her mom’s, her aunt’s and… Yeri’s. But Yeri hasn’t answered all day to her messages and calls, why would she answer now… She’s probably asleep. But she still tries her luck. She calls.

…

“Hello?”

Sooyoung swears she will start crying hearing the reassuring words of her best-friend.

“Y-yeri-ah… It’s me, Sooyoung. Joy.”

“JOY??!! Is this a new phone?”

“N-no.”

“What is wrong?” and now Yeri’s voice turned darker and more serious than ever.

Sooyoung starts crying.

“Y-yeri.. can you come pick me up from the subway station please.”

“SOOYOUNG WHAT IS WRONG??!! Yes!! I’m coming right now!” there is a pause and then Sooyoung hears the voice of a male on the other end, talking to Yeri and telling her ‘See you some other time?’. Sooyoung’s stomach ached.

“What was that-?”

“What was what? WHERE ARE YOU JOY??!!”

“In the subway, im getting down in 2 minutes. I’ll explain when we meet. Bye.”

…

The man smiles at her.

“Is everything ok? Is someone picking you up?”

“Yes yes! Thank you so much, Mister! This is where I get down… Thank you again…”

Sooyoung must’ve bowed to the man 50 times because she couldn’t thank the him enough.

When she exits the subway, there she is, Yeri, in the most gorgeous dress in the world, a silky black dress complimenting her body like a crown compliments a princess’ head. She worriedly runs to hug Sooyoung tightly and puts her jacket around her.

“Sooyoung… oh my godness… what happened??!!”

Sooyoung wipes her tear of happiness after seeing Yeri.

“Yuk Hei. I went out with him.”

“What??!! Your boss you mean??”

“Ex-boss. I aint walking in that office ever again.” Sobs Sooyoung while being guided by Yeri.

“Oh no… What did he do…”

“He tried to rape me Yeri.”

Yeri could swear she is going to punch a wall. She feels as anger grows inside of her and she feels like both crying and go look for the guy who did this to her other half.

“Soo…young.” Yeri finds her words terribly hard. “I cant believe this..” and she falls into Sooyoung arms, hugging around her small waistline. Sooyoung pats her head and they both start crying under the dark sky filled with stars.

 ---

It is the next day and Irene shows no sign of being calm, standing in front of all the girls, after Sooyoung told them what happened.

“Where does he live???”

“IRENE!!”

“What?? HE needs to pay!”

“And what? You will go and fight him with your pilates movements??” replies Seulgi, making Wendy burst a small laugh.

“Hey.. I think the best way to deal with this is calling the police, right?” says Yeri. “This was almost harassment!”

“ALMOST, Yeri. The police cant do anything if it DIDN’T ACTUALLY HAPPEN and if Sooyoung has no sign of harassment on her body like bruises, hickeys, blood, cum.”

“I do have some bruises from when I fell on my knees…” says Sooyoung looking to the ground like being embarrassed to talk about what happened.

“Doesn’t prove anything!” screams Irene, being on the verge of giving up. She cant take stressful situations for shit.

“Ok ok ok. I see all of us are stressed here so what about: Sooyoung, you give your resignation throught email to the main CEO of your company so that you don’t have to go there and give it yourself and encounter the bastard. Next step, buy you a new phone.” Says Wendy.

“With what money…” replies Sooyoung demolished by the thought that she is now jobless.

“We will help you sweetie!” says Seulgi while kneeling in front of Sooyoung and massaging on her knee like a mother reassuring her daughter.

“I cant girls- I cant let you do this for me… I need a new job.”

“I think I can solve this…” says Yeri.

“Wait? What? How? I thought your company doesn’t accept any new models?” says Irene.

“Not me… I got a.. well… friend who can help you.”

“Friend??” gasps Wendy.

“The guy.. The guy I went out with last night.”

Wendy swears she choked while hearing about him.

“The photographer huh?” she says.

“Yes! Him.”

“Wait what- What guy?” says Sooyoung more confused then ever, until she realizes the male voice she heard last night through Yeri’s phone.

“He is a photographer for my company and for another company aswell. He also said  his other company are looking for more models since they are at the beginning and she asked me if I know any girls willing to do this and guess what-“

“No.” says Sooyoung all of the sudden.

“What??!!” screams Irene. “ Are you crazy Sooyoung??!! This is the best opportunity ever given to you!”

“No… I don’t want the mercy of your boyfriend, Yeri.” And with this, she leaves the room leaving only silence between the girls.

“H-he is n-not my boyfriend.” Stutters Yeri, trying to catch Sooyoung not to leave the house.

“You said y’all went out huh? Wasn’t it like a “date”?”

“I mean… It was but Sooyoung… He’s not my boyfriend, actually, I don’t think we have much in common, I don’t know.” Says Yeri trying to find her right words with her clearly jealous “friend”.

“Problems in paradise…” whispers Irene.

“Irene!!!” screams Seulgi.

Irene is now smirking while leaning on the wall. Seulgi swears sometimes she wants to rip that cocky smile off Irene’s face. She thinks too much. Her mind always “overthinks”. Irene thinks Sooyoung likes Yeri, but Seulgi denies this.

Sooyoung is now back in the room with the girls, sitting next to Yeri who is hugging her, to soften down the panicked friend and try to convince her.

“Sooyoung.” Says Wendy while biting her lip, not knowing if what she s about to say will affect her future… “I think you should accept working for Yeri’s… um.. friend.”

“Yees! See, all of us encourage you, Sooyoungie! Come oon! He is soo nice, you have nothing to worry about! I also heard one of his models is the Instagram Model Seo Soojin!” reassures Yeri excitedly.

“WAIT FOR REAL?” gasps Seulgi.

“Oh my god Seulgi, your crush is showing off…” sighs Irene.

“SHUT UP! You know I love Soojin, I follow her since she started her career!”

“Why don’t u marry her then…” says Irene sassily while looking at her nails.

“Irene… fine, I will shut up…” pouts sadly Seulgi and looks to the ground.

Irene smirks again. Knowing that Seulgi wouldn’t do anything over the power of her word. She basically has Seulgi at her little finger… and she loves it.

---

It’s been a day. The girls spent it all together, watching 2 romantic movies at which Irene wanted to puke 5 times and Wendy didn’t pay any attention. They cooked together, played video games and had silly conversations. Nothing unusual.

Yeri is now alone, on the hallway, calling her photographer friend.

…

“Hello. Hi Yuta, it’s me, Yerimmie.”

“Of course, you don’t need to say who you are you know? It says when you call” says Yuta sarcastically, while letting out a small laugh.

Yeri seemed unphased but she left out a small laugh for the situation to not be awkward.

“So, you told me about your other company and that you are looking for new models?”

The conversation goes on, Yeri basically begging for him to take her bestie, Sooyoung, as a model at that company. They both come to the agreement that Sooyoung needs to come to an interview with him and his friends, the ones that basically run the entire company. He reassures Yeri that they are a trustable company, after Yeri summed up to him what happened to Sooyoung last night with her alleged “boss”.

Wendy listened to the entire conversation. ‘Yuta.. this sure is an unusual name… just as beautiful as the man who owns it…’. Wendy caught herself thinking about him again. This is bad Wendy. BAD BAD BAD.

---

The following day, Sooyoung is more nervous than ever. She just sent her resignation through email to her CEO and she is waiting for an answer while she is getting ready for the job interview Yeri arranged for her. Sadly, Yeri wasn’t available today to come with her, since she had work to do, a runway most exactly, very important and couldn’t miss it. Irene refused to come because she “had better stuff to do”, Seulgi cried about how she has too many photos to edit and the only one left was… Wendy.

“I-I don’t think it’s a good idea…” stutters Wendy knowing that if she goes there, she will see Yuta.

“Comee onn!! Why not! You re the only friend I have left who doesn’t have work to do today. Please!”

“H-how do you know I aint got work t-to do..?”

“YOU DON’T WENDY!! You just said yesterday ‘Oh man, I cant wait for tomorrow to come since I have nothing to do but to laze around’.”

“Oh my god…” Wendy facepalms herself. “You really pay a lot of attention to what I say don’t you…”

“Yes. Now get ready. Dress up formally since not only me, but my bestie has to make a good impression too.”

“Whatever.. all im gona do was cheer cringely for you anyway….”

Still, she knew she will meet him. She had to look good, at least decent.

Wendy decides to go for a green, college-like sweater with a pair of skinny black jeans that complimented her legs like no other, some black knee-high boots and a leather jacket.

Sooyoung was wearing her hair in a ponytail, dressed in a flowy dress, Balenciaga Triple S shoes and a Balenciaga jacket.

They soon leave Sooyoung’ s apartment and they get In her car where she starts blabbering about how nervous she is. Wendy couldn’t help but not focus on what she was saying. She was nervous. She was just as nervous as her best-friend. Maybe even more. ‘No wrong move, Wendy.’ ‘Don’t look at him, Wendy’ ‘Don’t faint, Wendy’. It is BAD BAD BAD.

There they are. In a huge, 45 storey building, all glass everywhere and the most futuristic furniture. Dinamic walls that imitate a waterfall are welcoming the girls at the entrance desk, where an inasanely gorgeous woman in a suit waits for them with a big smile.

“Hello, ladies.”

“Uhm, hello m’am.” Says Sooyoung. “My name is Sooyoung”

Wendy hits her with her shoulder.

“Park Sooyoung” she adds.

“Oh, yes, that’s right! You ve got an interview in 5 minutes, right?”

“Yes! She,, she is my friend, Wendy. She came to support me, is it ok is she comes with me.. please?” pleads Sooyoung with her puppy eyes.

“Yes, of course. All of us need a back-up friend, an interview can be very stressful! Floor 35, Room 102. You have a changing room right next to it. You have the outfit you need to wear waiting for you there. Here is the key to the locker. Good luck!”

She sounded like a little machine at this point, together with her robotic smile. This made Sooyoung even more nervous. In the elevator, Wendy is adjusting her hair.

“Why are you even prepping yourself so much? Its not like you are the one being interviewed…”

“You said it yourself. In order to make a good impression, you need your friend to look just as good as you.” Says Wendy cockily.

“Ugh…” sighs Sooyoung as they get out of the elevator.

Everything is set and done. Sooyoung has changed into the interview outfit which was way less revealing than the one she had to wear for the previous interview for the other company. She felt relieved. This meant they are not some creeps like Yuk Hei. Wendy reassures Sooyoung by telling her she is gorgeous and that she will do well. She combed Sooyoung’s stunning slightly curled hair and now she looks like a princess. She is ready. But, is Wendy ready for what’s about to come?

 “Hello.” Bows Sooyoung politely as she shyly enters Room 102.

She is greeted by 3 of the most beautiful males in the world. Sooyoung is feeling it again. She will stand in front of 3 males. 3 insanely gorgeous males. They looked like models for the biggest modelling company. She couldn’t believe her eyes that they were just some CEOs.

She is followed by Wendy who refuses to look at the table where the 3 men where standing. She greets them with a small bow and stands next to Sooyoung as she is introducing her as her friend and asks for permission if she can stay during the interview.

“Of course.”

She heard this voice, this so familiar voice. She finally gains courage and looks up at the table. There he was, the man she has been dreaming for 3 days now. The “forbidden” temptation. He had his hair pushed back now. His blonde hair was now sleeked back, leaving sight to his forehead. He was wearing a white shirt with rolled up sleeves, showing off his expensive Rollex. His accompanied friends weren’t any lower than him.

“You can take a seat next to us” kindly but intimidatingly  says one of the others. “ My name is Dong Sicheng and I am the CEO of this company. I want to welcome you here first, and wish you luck. I wont be talking during this interview, I will let my mates do this.”

The CEO was definitely something else. A slender man, but very good-looking. All dressed in a black suit and a red tie. His auburn hair looked insanely sharp, as it was styled with care like it was the creation of God. He sure was intimidating. Standing there, not saying a word but analyzing every move with the attention of a tiger aiming for it’s prey.

“My name is Kim Doyoung. You may introduce yourself” said the last man of the 3.

She recognized him. Sooyoung. Sooyoung knew him. It was him. The man that saved her in the subway. The insanely kind and amazing guy that offered his phone to her. The tall and handsome male was looking at Sooyoung like he knew her. He recognized the girl and gave her a reassuring smile. She could read a warm “everything will be alright!” on his face, just like two nights ago. He looked just as sleek as that night. Suit, pushed back hair with a sense of gel in it.

Wendy quietly sat on the other side of their table, next to Doyoung, so that she wont have to sit next to Yuta. She felt followed. She didn’t know why but she had the impression he was looking at her. Even if she knew, its all in her panicked head. The males smelled absolutely heavenly. She felt like she was sitting among the angels.

Sooyoung was doing so well, she was showing off her amazing body in the most sensual ways and the males seemed to show now sign of “perversion” at her presentation. They seemed formal and professional. This boosted Sooyoung’s confidence even more, knowing she is not showing herself off to some “preditors”. Wendy smiled to Sooyoung the entire time, but she couldn’t help not stare at Yuta while he was focused on studying Sooyoung. Wendy analysed Yuta like the most surreal painting you find in a museum, trying to uncover his secrets. She wanted to know more. She wanted to know him. She needed to approach Yuta. But no. This is BAD BAD BAD.

Sooyoung was now done and the males sent her to the changing room to put back her casual clothes. Wendy was left alone with them. She felt like the minutes became hours. She was sweating so bad and the silence was a killer. Until one of them broke it and said “What do you think?”.

“Isnt it weird for us to talk about this next to her friend?” said the CEO, Sicheng, nonchalantly, like Wendy couldn’t hear them just perfectly.

“Don’t mind me… I can leav-“

“No, theres no problem.” Stopped Yuta.

She swore her heart fell to the ground and came back to her chest. It meant nothing to him, he was just being nice and a professional man, but yet, in her hopeful mind, she hoped that maybe he found the slightest interest in her.

The males were filling the room with their deep, rough voices as they were talking about Sooyoung. In the end, they decided to accept her. Wendy jumped off her seat unconscioudly and screamed a small “YES!”.

The males were staring at her blankly. Except for Yuta, who started smiling and broke the silence with a small laugh.

“You must be really happy for your best friend. Especially after what I heard happened to her. I am so sorry.” He said.

That was it. She felt like there was only him and her right now.

“Y-yes. She suffered a lot. You guys gave her a chance to be happy again and gain her own money, she is a very hard-working person, don’t worry about it!” added Wendy, trying to be as serious as she could.

Sooyoung entered the room and Wendy could read on her face that she was extremely anxious and nervous. She ran to hug her. This made Doyoung and Yuta smile a little. Sicheng looked at them and rolled his eyes. The man for sure was the most professional here and he was very stiff. He announced Sooyoung that she was accepted, gave her a timetable, a key to her new private locker and changing room and a list with all the phone numbers and the names of them and the models of their company. Wendy’s eyes widened when she saw Yuta’s number on that paper. But, she would never have the courage to ever use it… Would she?

Right after saying goodbye to them and before leaving, Yuta calls for Wendy.

“Hey, I just wanted to know, are you by any chance the girl that was at Yerim’s apartment when I came to take her? You seem familiar, that’s why.” Said Yuta while gathering the scattered papers from the desk.

“Yes. Its me. I also recognized you.” Says Wendy slightly awkwardly.

“Ah, that’s nice. So if im friends with Yeri, I guess we can be too… or?”

Wendy swore she felt like she was just asked to prom in the 7th grade by the cutest guy in the class. But they were two grown up adults. Yet he made her feel so comfortable, so childish around him.

She rushes a “Yes, yes! Of course!”.

“That is great” he shows a sweet smile. So sweet she feels her feet melt. His whole face took another meaning when he smiled. “Ask Yeri or Sooyoung for my number, if you ever need anything or just want to… you know, see eachtoher at a coffee or something.”

“Ah. Yes, sure!” she couldn’t think of anything smart to say. She was brainwashed.

They were now in Sooyoung’s car, on their way to Seulgi’s place where they all were planning to see eachother and celebrate Sooyoung’s new job. Wendy was looking on the window the whole way home. She was smiling. She was happy. She was feeling for this man something she hasn’t ever felt before for a man, and she had many meaningful relationships throughout her life. But never has she dreamt at a man the way she keeps thinking at this one. Next step: she had to know what Yerim truly feels for this man! She had to know if she has to erase him forever from her memory or if maybe she has a chance.

They got to Seulgi’s place where they were greeted with arms opened by all the girls. Even Irene seemed truly happy, she had a wide smile that the girls haven’t seen in so long.

“Soooo… HOW DO WE PARTY TONIGHTT??!!” jumps Yeri excitedly.

“Why don’t we go to the club?” proposes Seulgi. “I don’t really want to clean up over a party that we would hold at my place”.

“I would help you…” mumbles Irene.

“Shuut up! I want in a club!” protests Seulgi who seemed like a child who wants candies.

“I am alright with this!” says Wendy while staying on her phone, looking for clubs.

They all agreed in the end, more or less they had to drag Irene there. They were all getting ready and Yerim was in the bathroom doing her make-up since the whole bedroom was packed with the other girls. Wendy saw the perfect oprtunity. Now it’s the time. Now or never.

“Yerimie…” says Wendy shyly cracking the bathroom door open to make sure she wasn’t gona walk on to Yeri being naked or something.

“Yes, Wendy?”

“Hey…” she scratched the back of her neck. “You know… just a question…”

“Sure, what is it” says Yeri nonchalantly while applying lip gloss.

“I just wanted to ask you, you know, just from pure curiosity. How was that date with… what was his name..” she pretended to forget the name she has been having in mind all the time.

“Yuta. It was… nice I guess.”

“You guess?” she felt her heart skipping.

“Yeah. The guy is ok, very charming, handsome, well mannered, a real gentleman. But I don’t really wanna mess into a relationship with my photographer. It would be slightly weird and if we ever get to break up, I could never pose for him again, it would be awkward.”

“I see…”

“So yeah. But I am interested in keeping to see him. You know, as friends I guess. I don’t really know what else to say about him.”

“Aha… Alright then, I was thinking to take a shower before leaving, are you done with your make-up?”

“Yes, just now. You can have fun in the shower.” Says Yeri while smirking and patting Wendy on the shoulder.

This is exactly what she needed to do. Relax herself, make her lose her mind for a moment. She could lose her mind but he would still not leave it. Wendy enters the shower and pleases herself thinking about him, hoping that he does the same.

 The girls are now all prepped and ready to go hit the biggest club in Seoul, Octagon. Any male that would see them now, would feel their boner kicking in. Five insanely hot girls, all dressed in leather skirts, dressed or pants, crop tops and high heels being the main star of their outfits. They looked like they were heading out for Seoul Fashion Week, not for a club night. 

Little did they know was that tonight was about to be a night to remember, forever…

[winsister91]

Looks Better On The Floor

Part of the SOWINFREDSISIE Celebration!

Summary: @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid asked: Happy 500 to you both! For my request I was thinking Sam/Dean find you getting ready for bed wearing the other brother’s shirt. As their girlfriend they give you a reminder of whose clothes you should be wearing to bed. Or not wearing, I mean naked is good. *wink wink nudge nudge* I wrote for Dean and @sofreddie wrote for Sam: It’s Just A Shirt

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam (mentioned)

Warnings: Fluff, language, implied smut

Word Count: 903

My Masterlist!

~ Dean and forever tags are open! ~

Dean was splayed out on the motel bed. He clicked away on a remote with pouted lips as he flicked through the TV channels. He had no interest in what was on though, he was just killing time. His eyes darted to the left to glance at the bathroom door, it was still shut, the sound of streaming water slightly audible on the other side. He sighed impatiently, moving his eyeline back to the TV. He settled on some random action flick, the kind that was all explosions and no plot, so it didn’t take Dean long to work out what was going on. Bad Guy had taken Pretty Girl hostage and Good Guy had tracked them down. First there’d be a car chase, then a gun fight, Good Guy wins and kisses the girl. The defining factor on how good the film was, would be how many explosions it could insert during that time. Dean nodded in approval when he saw his third in ten minutes. It was the kind of film he’d enjoy most watching with you, cuddled up in bed or on a sofa with copious amounts of beer and popcorn, the both of you ripping into how ridiculous it was and providing your own ‘comedic gold’ commentary.

Dean’s ears pricked up when he heard the familiar squeak of the shower being turned off. His eyes darted again to the door, which still remained firmly shut. He shuffled up a bit in anticipation. Then incoming moment was a small pleasure of his, one of the highlights of you both being out on a hunt together. Dean knew that shortly, you were going to emerge from the bathroom freshly showered. Your hair would be still damp and tousled from being towel dried, and you would be wearing one of his old shirts. It would hang on you, oversized with sleeves overlapping your hands, and the bottom of the shirt just stopping below the booty. It was a simple but effective look, one that drove Dean wild. Just the fact that it was his shirt made it all the more hotter, he could feel a semi coming on just at the thought.

He smirked to himself, he knew that you knew he loved the look, and what it would undoubtedly lead to.

He quickly snaps back to reality as he hears the handle on the bathroom door turn, and there you were. Hair damp and shirt donned just as expected, wonderfully.

“Hey,” you cooed with a wink, as you made your way towards the bed.

“Hey there,” Dean replied coolly, tongue poking out slightly between his teeth as he looked you up and down.

As you drew closer, Dean spotted that something was...off. The sleeves overlapped your hands almost comically this time, and the bottom of the shirt hung way lower, almost touching the back of your knees.

You hopped on the bed next to him, not noticing the bewildered look on his face. You snuggle into him and look at the TV.

“What are we watching?” you asked chirpily.

He didn’t answer, prompting you to turn your attention back to him. His eyes were narrowed, staring at the shirt intently. He was studying it, trying to remember it. It was a dark green and black plaid one, Dean honestly couldn’t remember if he had one like that or not.

“Problem?” you raised your eyebrow in confusion.

“Let me look at that,” he mumbled, hand reaching down the back of your neck as he fumbled within.

“What the hell!?” you squeak, trying to wriggle free.

He grabbed hold of the tag on the back of shirt, looking at it briefly before he threw his hands up in disbelief.

“That’s not mine!!” He yelled, “That’s Sam’s shirt!!”

“What are you talking about?” you laugh, “Of course it’s yours!”

“No way,” he shook his head, “That aint my size, it’s god damn Yeti sized!”

“Huh…” you stop in thought, holding your hand up and watching what seemed like a whole quarter of the sleeve dropping over your hand, “I thought it seemed a bit big…I dunno, I just grabbed it outta the clean laundry. No biggie.”

“No biggie!?” Dean gasped, “You’re wearing my brother’s shirt and I’m supposed to be okay with that?”

“Well maybe one of you should consider wearing something other than god damn plaid,” you laughed shoving him lightly, “Then maybe I can freaking distinguish what’s yours and his! Hell, it even took you a moment to notice.”

“You giving me attitude?” Dean tilted his head with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“So what if I am?” you shrugged with a smirk, “What you going to do about it?”

“I’m gonna make you pay for picking out the wrong shirt,” he growled, lunging for your arms and pinning you down on the bed.

“Oh!” you squealed in delight, “Oh nooo.”

Dean straddled you before releasing his grip on your arms.

“You can start by taking that damn thing off,” he said in a sinfully low voice.

You didn’t need telling twice, hastily tearing the buttons open and shuffling your arms out of the sleeves. Dean grabs the flannel as soon as it’s off you and throws it to the side, looking you up and down again as you laid before him completely exposed.

“Aw yeah,” he grinned, “That’s a shirt that definitely looks better on the floor.”

Tags! This means I’m unable to tag you anymore :( If I was able to tag you before, PLEASE (if you are over 18) set your blog to ‘explicit’ and also turn off ‘safe mode’. This will be why I can’t tag you anymore because of Tumblr’s new bullshit.

Forever Posse: @sofreddie @chelsea074298 @ria132love @untitled39887 @chicagolove88 @akshi8278 @sis-tafics @younoeatcheeseyounobefat @mandilion76 @teamfreewill92 @supernaturalmagicfolk @emoryhemsworth @musicistobeheard-blog @pheonyxstorm @mrswhozeewhatsis @turnttoverr @itspronouncedsatanbitch @the--real-wombat   @xagateophobiax @samisimportant @jensen-gal @castielle11235 @waiting-to-find-myshadows   @19agbrown   @mogaruke   @nyxveracity   @cole-winchester   @esoltis280  

Dean Darlings: @annoyingpeople-postingthings @hobby27 @sleepless-sin  @keira1416 @imascio08

[qvicksilversass]

Nowhere to Hide

Are you scared, My dear?

(Bucky Barnes x Reader) (Apocalypse/Walking Dead AU)

You and your makeshift family are getting by just fine in your isolated farmhouse, it’s deep in the countryside and well protected from the infected…until you’re betrayed and Negan decides you need to contribute.

Words: 1730 Warnings: Violence, very bad language, blood, zombies, diddy bit of fluff, nothing too graphic (I’m not that good at writing 😜 )

An: this started out as an idea from a dream I half remembered and it’s my first time writing Negan so let me know if you think anything's bad/off, same with any part of my writing. x

Tags:  @wellfuckbuck  @aweways  @sevenhelens  @bugalouie  @officialstegosaurus , @itsdarkwitch, @iamtheonewhocares, 

(Let me know if you want to be tagged/removed in this or anything else - there’s only one more part to this tho )

Part 1   Part 2

Masterlist

The four children lined up on the battered sofa, shuffling around excitedly as you handed them each a glass of lemonade, all eager to start their Saturday morning ritual. There were no cartoons or computer games anymore, but you made the best of it. A few battered dvds remained and you placed their favorite into the scavenged dvd player. Though it would mean a few less hours using the generator, it was worth it to give them some time to be kids.

“Thank you mummy.” Mary beamed up at you like it was the most normal thing to say and Wanda glanced over at you, ruffling the hair of her son, Pietro.

“It’s y/n sweetie.” You smiled and took your place next to Natasha on the grown up stools, she side eyed you but you ignored her.

“How long has she been calling you that?”

“A few weeks, it’s just a phase…”

“Does Barnes know?”

Thankfully she hadn’t called you ‘mummy’ in front of her father. It made you uncomfortable, you didn’t want to make a big deal of it; you didn’t know how Bucky would take it. He didn’t speak much about what happened before he found you, only that his wife died a few weeks before the world ended. You never pushed him, you saw the pain fresh in his eyes every time Mary mentioned her. You looked after Mary when he couldn’t and in return he kept you safe, that’s how things had always been.

“Y/n?”

“Hey Bucky, what is it?”

“I need to ask you a favour,” he pulled you out into the hall away from the giggling children, “could you take care of Mary? Rumlow’s sent word of an abandoned bunker, full of supplies.”

“Sure.”

“We’ll be back tomorrow morning, make sure you check the alarms, the traps…”

Bucky hated leaving Mary, even now we had this house and all its defenses, what ifs running through his mind at a thousand miles per hour. Part of you hoped he hated leaving you too, just a little bit.

You take hold of his shaking hand and the gesture forces him to look at you, “Bucky,” you smiled up at him, “we’ll be fine. Mary will sleep with me and Natasha’s here. Now what zombie is going to try anything with her?”

“I know doll,” he pulled you into his side, “but we’ve never left you overnight.”

You bit your lip, a fuzzy feeling in your belly as he held you against him. You never spoke about your love for Bucky. No one wanted to make plans, nothing could be guaranteed anymore, but you also didn’t tell him about the bad feeling you had. This sudden bounty seemed too good to be true.

“Daddy? You’re leaving again?” Mary’s small voice echoed down the hall and her brown curls bounced as she ran to her father.

“Just 'till tomorrow,” Bucky grinned at her and swooped her up in his arms, “how 'bout a kiss from my best girl huh?”

“Ewww!” Mary made faces as Bucky peppered sloppy kisses all over her face, “Daddy stop!”

“I love you too darlin’, be good for y/n.”

“Bye daddy!” The little girl skipped back to her friends and your heart raced at Bucky’s affectionate smile as he watched her, quickly averting your eyes when he turned back to you.

“I owe you one doll.”

“I’ll add it to the list.” You grinned playfully and Bucky leaned his face to yours his breath tickling your cheek before he pressed a soft kiss there, giving your arm a squeeze as he pulled away.

“See you in the morning?” he whispered and gave you that knee melting smile before he disappeared down the hallway. That was new. Your fingers lingered on the now tingling spot where his lips had been.

You turned back to see both Wanda and and Natasha staring back at you, amused expressions on their faces.

“Hmm, maybe Mary isn’t that far wrong?”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes and walked into the kitchen, failing to hide the blush burning your cheeks as you made more lemonade.

The day flew by like any other, everyone did their chores and Natasha was posted as look out for the night being the most skilled fighter left among you.

After a bit of a battle you eventually got Mary to brush her teeth and put on her pyjamas. She was so much like Bucky it was scary, so intelligent and curious, constantly asking questions and she was just as stubborn. By the third reading of goodnight moon you both drifted off to sleep.

It had been almost a year since a cure had been found and most of the people in the farmhouse had drifted away to start their own lives, free from the infected. Only you, Bucky and Mary remained, the traps, alarms and defenses long since removed. The farm was a home again and you were you’re own little family. You’d taken advantage of the warm summer air tonight, sitting out on the porch with Bucky while Mary played in the long grass. You snuggled further into his chest, soft and warm as he played absentmindedly with your hair, both of you watching the little bundle wriggle and gurgle in his sleep between you.

“This is nice doll, but you have to wake up now.”

“What?”

“Wake up.”

The calm sounds of the birdsong and breeze through the trees were replaced by gunfire and screaming in the distance gradually becoming louder and louder.

You sit up disorientated a second, relieved to hear Mary’s steady breathing beside you. Heavy footsteps approach your room and you maneuver Mary under the bed, whispering for her to stay quiet. You don’t have time to grab for your gun, the door swings open, banging off the wall and the noises got all that much louder.

“Well, what do we have here? 'Aint you just a fine piece of ass." 

Negan? No, you must be dreaming. He couldn’t have found you, you were too hidden. There’s no way. 

"Rumlow wasn’t lyin’ when he said this place would be fruitful." 

Rumlow. That asshole. You’d warned Bucky and the others about him, he was always so sly, he would do anything to survive. Yet they still gave him a chance. Let him worm his way into your family and he betrayed you all.

"Don’t worry he’s dead, see I value loyalty.” Negan strolled in, dragging that bat along the floor. Your stomach rolled with nausea watching him set the bat against the wall, like it was the most precious thing in the world.

“We were safe…” you shake your head, talking to yourself more than Negan.

“Well, not anymore!” he yells and you scramble backwards, making a grab for your gun holding it out as he approached, mocking you, daring you to shoot.

“You better leave, or-” He tuts and grabs your wrist, twisting it until you drop the gun.

“Now that’s not very hospitable.” Negan throws the gun into the hall and turns back to grab you by the throat. He leans in close and looks you over with an amused smile.

“My men are taking your supplies and the prettiest of your women are being loaded onto trucks as we speak…man, and all that commotion, it’s attracting a little attention if you know what I mean, so, how are you going to threaten me?" 

He squeezes your throat tighter, yanking you up off the bed and you grab at his hands, fighting for breath, "Tell you what. I’ll leave the women, sure some of the supplies and only come around once a month for more…if you agree to contribute…”

“Go to hell.” You growled, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how petrified you were.

“That your final answer? Or should I take the kid too?” Negan glances down to the bed and your heart stops. He raises his eyebrows at you, waiting for your answer. 

“No. Wait, I’ll contribute.” 

”Good choice.“ He releases you and you drop back onto the bed, coughing and gasping for breath.

"Yeah, I know you’re under there darlin’,” he ducked his head under the bed and Mary yelped scrambling out the other side and grabbing onto your arm, hiding her face.

You scowl at Negan and pull Mary over to the bathroom, it had a bolt at least, that would have to do.

“Lock the door behind me, don’t come out until I tell you to and don’t open the door for anyone except me ok?”

Mary scrambled backwards until her back hit the wall, crossing her arms over herself before nodding and covering her ears, “I remember what daddy told me, stay hidden, stay quiet -”

“And wait for me,” You gave her a quick hug before turning back to Negan, “I won’t let anything happen to you, Mary.”

You closed the door, waiting until you heard the bolt close before you stepped away, back towards Negan now leaning against your chest of drawers, his eyes gazing up and down your body.

“Aaw, now that was sweet, see how reasonable I am?”

Negan pushed you against the wall, forcing his knee between your legs,“Give yourself willingly and we might all leave here alive.”

His fingers curl around your throat again, and you bristled at the feel of his breath on your skin, his tongue licking from your neck to your jaw, “Shit you taste good, I might have to keep you." 

He plays with the thin material on the neck of your nightdress, ripping it open to allow him to slip his hands underneath. You hiss at the feel of his fingers cold and rough on your skin. Mistaking it for arousal he moans and gropes your breast roughly.

You struggle enough to keep him focused, allowing him to kiss you. He’s forceful and dominant, his tongue searching for yours. The stale taste of cigarettes and smell of whiskey on his breath, his odor of leather and sweat it all makes you want to retch.

While he fumbles you reach behind you and slip your fingers into the drawer, inching it open and feeling around for the hunting knife. You turn the blade around in your hand gripping the handle and plunging it into his side.

"Shit!” Negan grunts, pushing you to the side and stumbling back looking from you to the knife before pulling it out. His eyes shoot to Lucille and he makes a grab for the bat, but you’re quicker and kick Lucille away.

“So, what you gonna do now huh?”

[angelblade67]

Training With Dean

Dean x Reader

A/N: Feedback is always nice :) Tag list is at the bottom. Thanks for reading babes. Send in some requests if you want. Dean x Reader preferred <3 

edit: spelling and grammar fixed. my bad. 

Summary: Dean and you have been messing with each other for weeks. So you use it against him during a training session.

Warning: Fluff <---- kissing

“Come on!” Dean shouted at you as a couple of beads of sweat ran down his forehead and over his face before soaking into the crewneck collar of his light gray t-shirt.

You and Dean have been training all day. At first you thought it would be fun to train with Dean. You’ve seen his idea of exercise and figured that he’d be easier on you than Sam was last week. Sam wasn’t even this bad. Sam was gentle and soft, he didn’t yell at you to push harder but he didn’t let you slack off either.

Dean, he’s a different story. He’s been in your face since minute one. Yelling at you everytime your form was just slightly off. He pretended to be a vamp and you were suppose to “cut his head off” but when you thought you had him, he switched it on you and put you in a headlock.

“Dean I’m tired” you huff, out of breath. Leaning forward you go to grab your water bottle.

Out of nowhere Dean takes 3 large steps towards you and smacks the water bottle from your hand. The translucent dark blue container flies across the room and bounces off the wall as tiny droplets of water hit the floor, wall and ceiling.

“HEY!” You yell out “What the hell was that for?”

“Do you think a demon is going to let you stop to take a sip of water princess?” Dean mockingly slurs out his last word. He’s half grinning, knowing how much you hated when he calls you that.

Shaking your head you turn to grab the water bottle when you suddenly feel 2 large, strong hands around your waist pulling you backwards. Your back slams into Dean’s chest “Whoa, you think after a demon smacks your water from your hand he’s just going to let you go pick it up?” Dean laughs and you can feel it vibrate through his chest and onto your back.

“Seriously Dean?” you squirm, trying to free yourself but Dean’s arms are now locked together holding you in place.

“Yes Y/N” he holds you a little tighter “seriously.”

You continue to fight against him for another minute or so, and then it hit you and you stopped fighting.

“Aww you give up already?” Dean ask in baby talk.

When Dean asks, his arms relax a little. That’s his first mistake. Dean’s ego isn’t much different than that of a demon. Demons talk to much and when they think they’ve got you cornered or you seem like you’re just going to give up, they start getting sloppy.

Dean is the same way. This cat and mouse game you two have been playing is finally going to come in handy.

“Yeah Dean” you relax your body against his and lower your voice “I give up.”

He loosens his hold on you even more, allowing you enough room to spin yourself around in his arms to face him. Your chest against his. Both of your sweat now mixing together making a whole new scent that you could tell was giving Dean ideas.

You’re shorter than him so you have to tilt you head up to be eye to eye “I guess I’m never going to be able to save anyone or even be on my own now” you pout a little, really trying to sell this.

Dean places his hand under your chin and tries to search your eyes - he’s totally buying this - as he bites his bottom lip between his teeth.

“It’s okay” he finally spoke “That’s why you have me and Sam” he reassures you.

“Yeah?” you ask him in your sweetest innocent voice.

Dean smiles “yeah.”

You look back down, getting ready for you attack, when Dean lifts your chin up again. This time he doesn’t search your eyes, he looks directly at you mouth.

Just as you open your mouth to say something back Dean’s lips are crashing into yours. His hands gripping onto your waist. It surprised you at first but you quickly melt into his arms. Your mouths moving perfectly in sync with each other.

The tip of his tongue glides across your bottom lip, wanting more. You grant him access and your tongue start to perform a dance together. Almost like you’ve both done this before, but you haven’t.

Dean’s fingers grabbing and massaging the skin on your hips perfectly, making little almost inaudible moans escape you. Moans that Dean was more than happy to drink in.

When He finally pulled away you both looked into each other’s eye for what felt like hours but was only a few seconds “Wow” you breathed out, still trying to caught your breath.

“What?” Dean grinned “Not what you were expecting?” He chuckled.

You pulled him in real close and slipped your right foot behind his “Nope” you smiled hard “I was actually expecting this.” You quickly swiped your right foot to the side, while pushing onto Dean’s body so that he would fall.

Dean hit the floor with a loud thump as you came crashing down on top of him. Now straddling his hips and your knife, the one you keep in your boot, against his neck your smile returns “The trick is to distract them” you educated him “make them vulnerable.”

“You plan on making out with every demon you encounter?” Dean laughed.

“If I have to” you exclaim and wink at him.

Dean taps your leg signaling that he’s out. You rotate your body a little to put your blade back in your boot but the moment you turn your attention away from Dean he flips you over and is now on top of you, straddling your hips and holding you down by your wrist.

“I don’t think they’d complain” he bites his bottom lip again and looks to you for permission to kiss you again. You bite your lip and nod.

He leans down, the weight of him on top of you makes you feel nervous and safe all at the same time. This kiss was a lot gentler than the first one.

Dean pulls away, ghosting his lips over yours “I need a shower” he whisper, his lips barely touching yours “you?” he asks sheepishly.

@mogaruke @strawberryjuiceboxxx @deangirl28 @yellowdempsey @upon-a-girl  @aint-no-losechester @isapapertime @smalltowndivaj @breakmwango @princessofhorrors @pilaxia @finlayscoffee

Masterlist