#or he chews with his head tilted now bc he has a hole in his cheek lol

[glowstone23b]

Does flint got any secret talents or anything like that? What's his personality like? And how tall is he/big (just saying but how I see it piglins can be 9 - 10 feet tall, fyi Ren is 8 feet tall and so is Francis, not bragging I think🤨)

Not my drawing but looking at you like this^^

Secret talents 🤔 he likes to carve things on his free time, like beads or little gold trinkets for people. He knows how to brew a couple of potions, but he’s still learning on that front. He also does does his best with patching people up/stitching wounds etc. and similarly probably patches clothes and whatnot for his kids.

He’s nice! He tries his best in general :) kind of gruff/formal in his way of speaking, but he’s kind of paternal to everyone he meets. Kind, but definitely stern if you get yourself hurt. A little protective as well, so it’s likely his biggest fault (like… he’d get killed trying to protect people, most likely) He’s got a bit of RBF so he looks more intimidating than he actually is, given the scar and probably a limp later on and all.

Flint’s roughly 6’5” or so— I initially had him pegged at around 7’, but I wanted to be around shoulder height if my player was standing next to him (and I’m 5’3”, so somewhere in that range seems to work). I’d love to sit on a piglin’s shoulders cause I could reach anything! King of the world, haha. He’s kinda built more like a power lifter than anything, also? A little chubby but in a muscle kinda way if that makes any sense? I have a couple references of him if you need cause I can’t remember if I’ve posted em.

[junghelioseok]

clandestine. | 02

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 7k [2/6]

notes: looks like it’s a writing/editing kinda day, folks! hope you enjoy this installment, and let me know what you think! 

warnings: jk’s massive noona kink: a recurring yet warranted warning, jeon jungkook is a goddamn tease, smuuuut, oral (f receiving), jk’s got a big dick whoOPS, minimally edited bc i’m feeling lazy

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 

Morning brings with it bright sunshine and fresh horror as the events of the previous evening come rushing back. You aren’t sure you’ll ever be able to look Jeon Jungkook in the eye again—or at least, not without being reminded of the way he’d plagued every single one of your dreams with devilish eyes and even more devilish fingers. Groaning, you scrub at your temples, as if that will help dispel the memories. After a few fruitless moments, you crawl out of bed and head for the bathroom, intent on washing everything away with a good, cold shower.

Try as you might, though, you simply cannot avoid your dark-haired neighbor. You’re in the kitchen sipping at your second coffee of the day and debating what you want for lunch when there’s a knock on the front door—a familiar rhythm that has your heart stuttering. “It’s open!” Jimin yells from the living room, and a moment later, the devil himself strolls in, wearing a plain black t-shirt with ripped jeans and well-worn Timberlands. Vaguely, you wonder when he made the switch from white tees to black, but your musings are cut short when he spots you in the kitchen, an impish grin settling across his face.

“Hey, Noona.”

“Hey.” You thank whatever god may be out there that your voice is steady. “Jimin’s in the living room.”

Jungkook tilts his head coyly and takes a step forward. “What makes you think I’m here for Jimin? Maybe I came to see you.”

Anxiously, you swallow down the memories of his warm hands that are trying to resurface. “I highly doubt that.”

“Really?” Jungkook takes another step forward and plucks the coffee mug from your hands. “What if I came over to finish what I started last night?”

Heat floods across your face. “That—that was… I mean, I don’t—”

“You don’t what?” Jungkook asks, raising a brow. “Want me? Because I’m pretty sure that’s a lie, Noona.” Quietly, he closes the last bit of distance between you, and when he speaks again you can feel his warm breath fanning across your cheeks with every word. “You see, I think you want me. Just as much as I want you. Am I wrong?”

“Jungkook, we—”

“Dude, what’s taking you so long?” Jimin’s head suddenly pops around the doorway, and you nearly jump out of your skin in your effort to put some distance between you and your dark-haired neighbor. “I’m about to start the game without you.”

“Just wanted to grab some coffee and say hi to {Name},” Jungkook replies, raising your half-empty mug to his lips and taking a sip. “Did you want to join us, Noona? It’d be fun to watch you kick Jimin’s ass at Mario Kart again.”

You swallow, hard. “I can’t. I’ve got homework to do.” Not strictly true, perhaps, but you’d been planning on looking over the details of your internship again at some point, and now seems as good a time as any. “Sorry,” you add quickly, seeing Jungkook’s disbelieving expression.

“Summer homework? Gross.” Jimin pulls a face. “You’re still coming to Tae’s party though, right?”

You nod, unwillingly catching Jungkook’s eye again. He’s still sipping at your coffee, and you don’t miss the flagrant wink he shoots you over the rim of the cup. “See you later then, Noona,” he says, his voice practically a purr.

“Right,” you respond dully, your heart skipping a beat at the dark promise in his stare. “Later.”

Jimin and Jungkook disappear down the hall, but you remain rooted in the kitchen for a few minutes longer, listening as the music of whatever video game they’ve decided on starts playing from the living room. Heaving a sigh, you fetch a new mug from the cupboard and pour yourself some more coffee, grabbing an apple and a bag of chips as well. Taking everything up to your bedroom, you pull out your laptop and make yourself comfortable on your bed, plugging in some headphones to drown out the noise from downstairs. With any luck, you won’t have to see Jungkook again until you have to leave for Taehyung’s party, and you’re pretty sure that it’ll be easy to avoid him once you’re there.

In fact, you’re certain of it.

So with that thought in mind, you settle down with your coffee and open up Netflix, sinking into the pillows and pushing your dark-haired neighbor into the deepest recesses of your mind. It isn’t until your phone starts vibrating insistently against your thigh that you are startled out of your binge-watching, the screen lit up with two new notifications. Surprised, you realize that hours have passed, the sky outside your window deepening into the hazy blue of nighttime.

[6:02pm] Jungkook: you hungry, noona?

[6:02pm] Jungkook: for pizza, i mean. we ordered dinner

[6:03pm] Jungkook: but i’ll be your dessert if you want me ;)

You drop your phone as if burned, his final message playing over and over in your mind. It takes you a full minute to gather your wits again, stowing your device in your pocket without responding and carefully picking your way downstairs. Already, you can smell the cheesy grease, your stomach growling in anticipation.

Just grab the pizza and go, you think to yourself, formulating your escape plan and double-checking it for any holes. Dine and dash.

You’re walking past the foyer when there’s suddenly a knock on the front door. Curiously, you answer it, swinging it open to see a familiar grinning face standing on the doorstep. Lee Taemin is a good friend of Jimin’s, and your brother pokes his head out from the kitchen at the sound of your greeting, clearly expecting the new guest.

“Taemin! Get in here and have some pizza,” Jimin says, his mouth full. “You too, Noona. We got plenty.”

Instead of immediately heading for the food, Taemin wraps you in a hug that has you wheezing for air. “Long time no see, huh? How’ve you been?”

You squirm in his tight embrace, raised to your tiptoes. “Put me down, you heathen. I’m fine right now, but I won’t be if you suffocate me.”

Taemin chortles good-naturedly and releases his grip, ruffling your hair. “Good to see you too, {Name}. Honestly, it hasn’t been the same around here without you. How long are you back for? The whole summer?”

You shake your head. “Just a couple weeks. I’ve got to get back for an internship.”

“Already a hotshot, huh?” Taemin grins. “What are you going to be doing?”

The topic of your summer job is a welcome distraction from the way Jungkook’s dark gaze trails after you as you tread into the kitchen alongside Taemin, slapping two slices of pizza onto a plate and glancing around for a napkin. You can feel his eyes boring into the back of your skull, prickling your skin with electricity, but continue your conversation with Taemin as if nothing is amiss.

“You gonna sit down or what?” Taemin gives you a quizzical glance as he pulls a chair out from the table, joining Jimin and Jungkook who are already seated. You do your best to ignore the way Jungkook’s jaw flexes with every chew, somehow managing to look infuriatingly handsome despite the mouth full of dough and pizza grease staining his chin.

“I—” Your mind whirs, searching for the excuse you had planned. “—I still have some work to do. Reading and whatnot.”

“Nerd,” Jimin snorts.

Taemin shrugs. “Okay, then. Suit yourself, I guess.”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything. But you feel his eyes burning into your skin as you head back upstairs, and it isn’t until you are safely back in your bedroom, sagging against the closed door, that you can finally breathe properly again.

///

You end up departing for the party nearly twenty minutes after the official start time of eight o’clock, caving to Jimin’s insistence on being fashionably late. Personally, you think he just wanted the extra time to work on his hair—making sure every strand is perfectly, effortlessly tousled—and call him out on it as he locks the front door behind you.

“I didn’t spend that long on my hair,” Jimin sniffs defensively. “Besides, you’re the one who needed to run back in and get your wallet. What do you even need your wallet for? We’re walking like, four blocks.”

“Better safe than sorry,” you retort. “What if I get murdered and they need to identify my body? What if I get mugged? You never know!”

Taemin falls into step beside you. “What if we need to tip a stripper?” he chimes in.

You nod and raise your hand for a high-five without taking your eyes off your brother. “Exactly! You have to tip your sex workers, Chim!”

Jimin waggles a suggestive eyebrow. “I think I’d rather give them a different ti—”

You push him off the sidewalk before he can finish speaking, pulling a face as he stumbles into the street in a fit of laughter. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence, you perv!”

The remainder of the short walk to Taehyung’s house passes uneventfully. Jimin doesn’t bother knocking, throwing open the door like he owns the place, and you trail after him with Taemin and Jungkook on your heels. Immediately, you’re assailed by a cacophonous sea of conversation and thumping music, people milling around in the dimly lit interior.

“There you are!” The voice comes from your left, and you barely have time to register the speaker’s face before she’s gasping and engulfing you in a hug. “{Name}, you made it! Hi!”

You laugh, squeezing her back. “Hi, Chaeyoung. It’s good to see you. Sorry I didn’t catch you at graduation.”

“Oh please,” she says, waving you off. “We have all the time in the world to catch up now. Let’s get you away from these boys and find you a drink, shall we?” Flipping a lock of strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder, she loops her arm through yours and begins steering you toward the kitchen. “So what are you in the mood for? The beer’s shit, so I’d stay away from anything in the cooler, but everything else is actually drinkable.”

“Shocking,” you remark, peering at the mess of bottles and cups lining the kitchen counter. There’s a massive bowl of a horrifyingly neon green concoction as well, and you take one whiff before backing away again, nose wrinkling in disgust. “I see Tae’s still making punch.”

“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you,” Chaeyoung advises. “He’s somehow managed to make it twice as sugary and three times more alcoholic than last year’s. Pretty sure it’s worse than moonshine at this point.”

You grin and locate an empty cup, raising it in her direction. “Thanks for the heads up.”

Chaeyoung refills her own drink, and you settle on a simple blend of cranberry juice and vodka. Together, you head back in the direction of the living room, where Jisoo and Lisa are chattering away on a couch in the corner. They look up at your arrival, greeting you with smiles and hugs, and quickly usher you into a seat beside them.

“So,” Jisoo begins, leaning forward. “How’s college?”

“Tell us everything,” Lisa adds, propping her chin in her palm. “Is it nice living away from home?”

Jisoo waggles her brows. “Forget that. Have you met any guys?”

Unbidden, Jungkook springs to the forefront of your mind, dark eyes staring at you from beneath equally dark hair as he leans down, down, down—

“Nope!” you blurt before your thoughts can progress any further. “I mean, I share a suite with a couple guys, but that doesn’t count.”

“Are they cute?” Lisa prods.

“They must be more mature than these high school boys,” Chaeyoung sighs.

“Hardly,” you snort. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

The gossip continues. More people arrive as the night wears on, the living room filling up with dancing bodies. A few girls you don’t know join in your conversation, perching on armrests and ottomans and the carpeted floor as a last resort. Across the hall in the dining room, you spot Taemin setting up a table for beer pong, a triumphant shout going up when Taehyung procures an unopened package of balls from somewhere in the hall closet.

“This is gonna be tournament style, got it?” he announces as he tears the package open. “Winner goes up against the undefeated champs—Jungkook and Yugyeom!”

Even from your comfy seat on the couch, you can see the arrogant twist of Jungkook’s mouth as he leans over to give Yugyeom a high-five. You can’t tear your eyes away from the way he tongues his cheek, lounging back into a chair to watch the first round of the game. Jimin steps forward alongside Taehyung, and you watch as your brother scrutinizes the pyramid of cups, poised to make a throw that lifts his shirt just enough to expose a flash of his admittedly toned abdomen.

“He wore that shirt on purpose,” Jisoo accuses, and you huff out a sound that’s more snort than laugh.

“Please, it’s just the only shirt he owns that isn’t dirty. Trust me.”

“I don’t even care,” another girl you don’t know the name of pipes up. “I’d still let him blow my back out.”

You grimace. “And on that note, I suddenly need another drink,” you announce, to giggles. Wrenching out of your cozy seat between Jisoo and Lisa, you wave your near empty cup in farewell and make your way toward the kitchen, carefully skirting around the dancers and beer pong spectators spilling out into the hallway.

The kitchen is deserted when you walk in, everyone having flocked to the dining room to watch the beer pong tournament. Humming along to the music, you open up the fridge and survey its contents, hoping to find something decent. Curiously, you pick your way past a few cans before turning a dark glass bottle around to read the label.

“Are you avoiding me, Noona?”

The voice comes from behind you, deep and sinfully resonant, and you don’t even have to turn around to know that he’s standing just inches away. His breath ruffles through the hair at the nape of your neck, sending gooseflesh prickling across your skin, and when strong hands curl gently around your hips you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

“I missed you, y’know,” he continues, his mouth finding its way to your ear and nipping lightly at the lobe. “You didn’t talk to me all day, even though I was right there in your house. Ran like a scared little rabbit when you saw me in the kitchen, didn’t you?” Softly, his lips ghost along the column of your throat, pressing a kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulder. “So, now what? Are you gonna run from me again?”

You don’t think you could if you tried. Your feet are rooted firmly in place, your entire body frozen as you await whatever he’ll do next. And when he urges you to spin around and face him, you obey immediately, your hands coming up to splay against his chest as he presses even closer and rewards your compliance with a kiss.

“Jungkook,” you breathe against his parted lips. “Jungkook, god.”

Slowly, he trails down your neck, leaving soft nips in his wake. “Yes, Noona?”

“We can’t,” you whisper, even as your head falls back to allow him more access to your clavicle. “Jungkook, we can’t do this.”

Your companion raises his head then, his dark gaze meeting yours. “Tell me to stop,” he says quietly. His thumbs dip beneath the hem of your shirt, rubbing circles into the soft skin of your waist, and you inhale sharply at the feeling. “If that’s what you want, Noona, just tell me to stop and I will. I promise.”

He’s palming along your hips now. The warmth of his palms seeps into your body, rendering it increasingly difficult to concentrate. His mouth returns to your neck as he awaits your answer, and you don’t miss the way his lips curl into a smirk against the delicate skin of your collarbone when you hesitate a moment too long.

“Well, Noona?”

Fuck it. Your arms wind around his neck, pulling him closer until there’s no space left between your bodies. “Jungkook, kiss me,” you breathe, throwing all remaining remnants of caution to the wind.

Jungkook straightens up to his full height, his smirk widening. “Anything for you, princess,” he remarks before leaning down, winding one hand in your hair and finding purchase in the curve of your waist with the other. The newfound pet name ignites a tendril of heat in the pit of your belly, and when Jungkook finally closes the gap between your lips, you release a breathy moan that he eagerly swallows. The hand in your hair tightens its grip to pull you even closer, tongues and teeth clashing as he deepens the kiss.

It’s only when the need for air becomes critical that you break away from him with a gasp, your lungs aching. Jungkook isn’t faring much better, his chest heaving beneath the thin white material of his t-shirt. He releases his grip on your hair, his thumb grazing across your cheek gently instead, and when he leans in to plant another kiss on your mouth, you exhale shakily. “God, Jungkook.”

His arm tightens around your waist. “What do you need, princess?” he asks, and you can’t deny your delight at his continued use of the nickname. His teeth find the lobe of your ear again, and you release a breathy moan as he delivers a particularly sharp nip to the soft flesh before pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the sensitive spot just below it. “Tell me. Tell me, and I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you anything you want.”

You slide your hands along his broad shoulders and up to his nape, brushing the silver hoops in his ears before tangling your fingers in his silky hair. “You’re teasing me.”

Jungkook clicks his tongue and pulls away, your arms falling uselessly to your sides as he takes a step back. “I just need to hear you say it, Noona,” he chides, his voice leaving no room for disobedience. “I need to hear you say that you want this. That you want me.”

A shiver dances up your spine, and you aren’t sure whether it’s due to his wicked lilt or the sudden absence of his body heat. “I want you,” you whisper, reaching out to touch him. “Jungkook, please.”

The smirk that spreads across his face is absolutely devastating. “Then come with me,” he commands softly, taking your hand and lacing your fingers together. You leave behind the thumping music and the loud chatter of the party, allowing Jungkook to pull you into one of several rooms lining the hallway and squeaking when he shuts the door and immediately pins you against it. His mouth slants across yours, hot and urgent, and you moan into the kiss as your hands fly up to grip his shoulders.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” Jungkook breathes, pulling away just enough to whisper the words against your lips. “Fuck, princess, look at this tiny little skirt you’re wearing. You’ve been killing me all night, you know that?”

He punctuates the words with another kiss, nipping harshly at your bottom lip. His hands slide down to the curve of your ass, and you gasp when he scoops you up effortlessly. “Legs around my waist,” he orders, readjusting his grip as he begins walking you further into the room.

It’s the laundry room, you realize upon closer inspection. Jungkook’s busy mouthing at your neck, but he breaks away with a smirk when he finally reaches his destination, plopping you down atop the cool metal of the washing machine. “Shame there’s nothing in here,” he remarks, kicking the side softly. “I really wanna fuck you with this thing running one day. But for now…” His smirk widens, his hands settling on your knees. “This’ll do.”

In an instant, he’s pushed up your skirt and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down and off your legs. He drops to his knees, smoothing his hands along your inner thighs, and your cheeks flush when he urges you to spread them further. “Jungkook—“ you mumble, thoroughly embarrassed as he stares reverently at your exposed core, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. “Quit staring at me like that.”

“I can’t help it,” he murmurs, leaning in and pressing a soft trail of kisses along your thigh. “You’re so beautiful, Noona.”

“You…”

You trail off, unsure of what to say. What do you say when your little brother’s best friend is staring at you like you’re a desert oasis and he’s been wandering, dehydrated, for days? What do you say when the scrawny neighbor kid you’d grown up with is caressing every inch of your legs, soothing the soft skin with his fingers and lips?

What do you say when you realize, once and for all, that Jeon Jungkook is undoubtedly—unabashedly—a man now?

You swallow, hard. Jungkook is nearing your core now, his hair tickling your thighs, and you gasp when he slides a finger up your slit experimentally. “You’re so wet,” he breathes. “So wet, and so—” He touches the pad of his finger to his tongue, grinning up at you as he laps up your essence. “—delicious. Fuck. You’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

And then he leans forward, boldly licking a stripe up the length of your entrance. Strong arms wind around your legs to hold you open, and when he shoves his face even deeper, his nose brushing against your clit, you let out a strangled whimper. “Fuck, Jungkook—”

The sound of his name draws a pleased hum from the young man nestled between your thighs, rumbling through his chest and straight to your core. Your walls clench, but Jungkook stubbornly refuses to dip his tongue inside. Instead, he teases at your folds, spreading them apart with two fingers and licking ardently at your leaking juices before kissing a short trail up to your clit. “Can you cum like this?” he asks curiously, thumbing across the sensitive bundle of nerves.

His answer comes in the form of a breathy gasp, your hips jerking upward to seek out more friction. Jungkook chuckles and obliges your silent request, dark eyes flickering up to meet yours as he begins rubbing slow circles around your bud. “Guess that’s a yes,” he murmurs, pressing yet another kiss to your thigh. His gaze remains locked on yours as he rubs a little harder, dragging your juices up from your slit and digging in deep until you are moaning aloud, your hands coming down to fist in his silky hair.

“I-I’m close,” you keen. “Please, Jungkook, please.”

Jungkook hums and leans back. At the same time, he slides two fingers inside you, curling them upward, and the sudden surge of fullness is more than enough to tip you over the edge. His name escapes your lips in a garbled moan, your walls spasming around his hand as he continues teasing your clit, drawing out your orgasm until you finally whine from oversensitivity and bat him away. Obediently, he withdraws, rising to his feet so that he towers over you once more.

“Holy fuck,” he murmurs, staring down at you with an expression caught somewhere between awestruck wonder and unbridled hunger. “You’re so pretty when you cum. So pretty and perfect and—” He swallows, his throat bobbing harshly. “God, I need to fuck you. Can I fuck you now, Noona? Will you let me stretch open this pretty little pussy and fill you up with my cock?”

Your breath hitches. Never in a million years could you have imagined that your brother’s mild-mannered best friend could have such a filthy mouth, but you cannot hide the way your core clenches at his words. Slowly, you raise your arms, winding them around his neck to pull him closer. “Yes,” you whisper, brushing your lips against his. “Fuck me, Jungkook.”

A groan escapes him, deep and cavernous in a way that sends heat spiking through your veins. Jungkook doesn’t waste any time, his mouth chasing after yours as one hand finds the back of your head, pulling you into a bruising kiss. The other slides down to the waistband of his jeans, freeing himself from the confines of the denim. He doesn’t break the kiss for a moment, even as he grabs your hips and pulls you closer. It isn’t until you’re seated on the very edge of the washing machine, wrapping your legs around his waist to steady yourself, that you pull away and let your gaze fall to his newly revealed cock. Jungkook is long and deliciously thick, and you let out a shaky breath when you see the pearlescent white drops beading at the swollen tip.

“Oh my god.” The words bubble up automatically, escaping you in an airy whisper. “How are you so big?”

Jungkook huffs out a hoarse chuckle, amusement glittering in his dark irises. “Think you can take all of me, princess?”

Your gaze falls down to his length again, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. “Put on a condom, and let’s find out.”

Jungkook grins and produces a little foil wrapper from somewhere in his back pocket, tearing into it with his teeth. You help him roll the condom over his cock, and as soon as it’s in place, he’s lining himself up and pushing inside you. A deep groan escapes him as he parts your walls inch by torturous inch, and you moan as your pussy is stretched to its limit, molding to his shape and sheer size. By the time he bottoms out, he’s almost prodding at your cervix, and you grab breathlessly at his bicep.

“I—I need a minute,” you gasp, your body spasming around him as you fight to adjust to the surge of fullness.

“Me too,” Jungkook rasps, his voice strained. His eyes flutter shut as he inhales deeply through his nose, cursing again when you clench around him unconsciously. “Fuck. You’re so tight.”

For a few moments, there’s only the sound of Jungkook’s labored breathing, his head falling forward to rest on your shoulder. His breath is hot against the exposed skin of your clavicle, and you sigh when you feel him mouthing at the delicate skin, nipping softly before soothing across it with his tongue.

At the sound, Jungkook raises his head, dark eyes meeting yours before dropping down to where the two of you are joined. “God, you look so good like this,” he murmurs, licking his lips. “So pretty, stuffed full of my cock.”

You clench around him again—this time more purposefully. Jungkook’s mouth falls open, a silent question on the tip of his tongue, and you answer it with a deliberate roll of your hips, wordlessly encouraging him to move. Gingerly, he obeys, retreating until only the head of his erection remains inside you. His hand drops down to your clit, and you keen out his name when he surges forward at the same time he flicks his thumb across the sensitive nub. Pleasure licks at your spine, replacing the discomfort. Jungkook lets out a pleased hum.

Slowly, he works up a rhythm, keeping his thrusts shallow as he begins rubbing circles around your clit again. With his other hand, he slides the straps of your top down your shoulders, tugging the bodice down just enough to free your breasts. Your nipples harden at the exposure, and a moan escapes you when he immediately takes one between his fingers, rolling and pinching at the peak. The additional stimulation, paired with the heavy drag of his cock along your walls and his insistent thumb on your clit, has you teetering dangerously close to the edge, your tummy tensing.

“Jungkook—” you whimper, your nails digging into his shoulders. He grunts in response and picks up the pace, rolling even more fervently up into your clenching heat, and you gasp when a particularly hard thrust sends you scooting backward atop the washing machine. “Fuck! I’m close, Jungkook.”

“Me too,” he grits out. “Come on, princess, cum for me. I know you can do it, just let go for me one more time—”

And with one final flick of his wrist and a thrust that’s so deep you can practically feel him in the back of your throat, you come completely undone, spasming wildly around his cock. It all proves too much for Jungkook, who’s groaning right alongside you as he reaches his high, spilling into the condom. He chants your name like a prayer as his hips gradually still, and his lips seek out yours almost instinctively as his cock softens inside you. The kiss is lazy and languid, contentment settling in your veins. Jungkook wraps you up in a warm embrace, his tongue dipping inside your mouth to explore.

It isn’t until a loud cheer rises up from the front of the house that you snap out of your blissful haze. “We should get back to the party,” you mumble into the kiss, pushing against Jungkook’s chest when he only pulls you closer. “Jungkook, come on. People are gonna get suspicious if we’re gone too long.”

“You know what else will make people suspicious? You, coming out like that.” He gestures at the skirt hiked up around your waist, a slow smirk playing at his lips as he gives you a once-over, his gaze lingering on the wet sheen streaking your inner thighs. “As much as I’m enjoying the view.”

You swat his arm. “Stop that!”

Jungkook snickers and bends down to pick up your discarded panties, swinging them around his index finger. “Stop what?”

“Oh my god, Jungkook.”

Cackling, he returns the lacy undergarment to you, watching as you pull the material up your legs. You adjust your shirt while he disposes of his condom, and when you hop off the washing machine, he offers you a hand that you gratefully accept, gripping his arm as you steady yourself on shaky legs.

“You should leave first,” you tell him, smoothing out the wrinkles in his t-shirt and relishing the way his muscles twitch beneath your fingertips. “It’ll look weird if we leave together, and I need to pee, anyway.”

Jungkook grins and catches your wrists, swooping down to plant a quick kiss on your mouth. “As you wish,” he says, offering you a playful wink.

Then he’s straightening back up to his full height, checking his pockets and running a hand through his mussed hair. You watch as he walks over to the door, putting his ear against it for a few seconds before determining that the coast is clear and slipping out into the hallway. As the door clicks shut behind him, you hear someone—you’re pretty sure it’s a drunk Yugyeom—greet him with a resounding clap on the back. “Dude, where have you been all night? We’re getting our asses handed to us. Minho and Taemin are winning.”

“Sorry, man,” Jungkook half-shouts, and you realize that he’s making sure you can hear him. “Come on. Let’s go get that crown.”

Leaning against the door, you listen as their voices recede down the hallway. You count to five, and then to ten when your thumping heart refuses to slow. At nineteen, it finally calms down—enough that you feel comfortable leaving the laundry room and slipping into the bathroom to clean yourself up.

There’s a massive crowd gathered in the dining room by the time you rejoin the party, and you easily slip unnoticed into the mass of people eagerly watching the final round of the beer pong tournament. Jungkook stands at the far end of the table beside Yugyeom, poised to throw.

He catches your eye at the same time he releases the ball with a flick of his wrist, a knowing smirk settling on his face as triumphant cheers break out all around you.

///

It’s well after midnight by the time the party begins to wind down. Chaeyoung and Lisa are nowhere to be found, and several other girls are lingering near the front door saying their goodbyes before heading out. You find yourself seated on the couch between Jimin and Minho, watching as the latter helps clean up by hurling beer cans at the wastebasket on the other end of the room.

“Man, no wonder you suck at pong.” Jungkook walks into the room and plops down on an end table, a faded cardboard Burger King crown sitting rakishly on his head. “Want me to show you how the champs do it?”

Minho snorts. “Fuck off, man, you barely won that second game. Besides, we totally would’ve won if Taemin hadn’t spent half the time staring at Lisa’s tits.”

Taemin, who’s perched on a corner of the coffee table, raises his hands innocently. “Hey, don’t look at me. I scored most of the points that round.”

Minho huffs irritably and tosses another can at the wastebasket, cursing when it bounces off the rim. Taehyung wanders in and picks it up, throwing it back at Minho before squeezing into the miniscule amount of space between you and Jimin on the couch.

“Jesus, Tae,” you grunt, shifting to give him more room. The movement tilts you toward Minho, smushing you against his side, and he shoots you a playful grin and a wink.

“Cozy?”

“Cozy,” you confirm with a laugh.

“Good,” he says, freeing his arm and throwing it across the back of the couch to give you a little more space. “It’s nice having you around again, Noona.”

Jungkook’s head whirls around so quickly you fear he might have given himself whiplash. His stare zeroes in on Minho’s arm, eyes narrowing at the proximity, but the other boy remains blissfully unaware as he leans back against the couch cushions. Subtly, you lean forward, trying to put some distance between your bodies.

“It’s nice to be back,” you tell him. “It feels like I missed so much, but at the same time, it’s like nothing’s changed.”

“Choi’s aim sure hasn’t changed,” Yugyeom remarks from the doorway with a handful of empty beer bottles. “Still can’t land a shot, even after all these years.” Raising a bottle, he hefts it toward the wastebasket, smirking in satisfaction when it sinks perfectly inside the can.

“And not just with pong,” Taemin goads. “How did things go with Sana again?”

Minho rolls his eyes. “Like you’re one to talk. Besides, we’d all probably stand a better chance if Jeon over there would leave some girls for the rest of us.”

“You’re just jealous because Sana likes him better than she likes you,” Taehyung says with a snicker. “Yo, Jeon! Didn’t you guys make it to third base at Jackson’s party?”

Your stomach sinks as all eyes in the room turn to Jungkook, whose eyes go wide at the sudden attention. “What?”

“Sa. Na,” Taehyung repeats, emphasizing each syllable. “Hottest girl in our year? Third base at Jackson’s? Or are you having a hard time remembering since you wound up leaving with Jihyo?”

Yugyeom chortles as he plops down onto the carpeted floor. “Fuck, man, I forgot about that. Jesus. Just last year you were still shitting yourself at the thought of talking to a girl. Who knew you secretly had so much game?”

The room is beginning to feel stifling. Every breath you take feels like you’re inhaling ash, like a volcano that has lain dormant for ages has suddenly and without warning erupted inside your chest.

He’s playing you. And even worse, it seems that this is a game he’s played before—many times, if his friends are to be believed. Your stomach turns at the thought.

From his perch on the end table, Jungkook scoffs out a stilted, staccato note. “Right. I guess any nonzero number would seem high to you guys, huh?”

Loud jeers break out from the surrounding boys, and you do your best to melt back into the couch cushions. The way you’re squished between Taehyung and Minho makes it impossible for you to find any leverage to stand, so you settle for leaning your head back and staring at the stucco ceiling, willing your heartbeat to slow. Gradually, the noise of the party fades into the background, as do the voices of your brother and his friends. It’s only when Jimin pokes your shoulder, singsonging your name, that you break out of your trance.

“What? Huh?”

“The lake house,” Jimin says, looking at you as if you’re stupid. “You down?”

You can only blink at him, repeating the words back to him dumbly. “The lake house?”

Jimin raises a brow. “Yeah, the lake house. You know, our lake house? The one we drive up to every summer? Where we’ve been vacationing since we were like, five?”

You scowl when he pinches your cheek like you’re a child again. “Yeah, I got that. What about it?”

A snort. “Jeez, have you been listening at all, Noona? We’re talking about going up there for a few days.”

“Oh,” you croak. Unwillingly, you find yourself glancing over at Jungkook, your face growing warm when you see him staring right back, his expression careful and composed. “Right.”

“You should come, Noona,” Taemin pipes up. “You’re here for the next few weeks, right? Might as well have some fun.”

“I don’t know—” you begin, but Jimin cuts you off with a raised finger and another pinch to your cheek.

“You can’t just do homework the whole time you’re here,” he says. “Come with us, Noona. Live a little.”

“It’ll help get your mind off your internship, too,” Jungkook remarks softly. “You deserve a break. Just a few days won’t hurt.”

The fact that he remembers your internship woes shouldn’t make your heart lurch. You know it shouldn’t, but you can’t help the way your chest swells dangerously. “Fine,” you concede, reaching over Taehyung to pinch Jimin’s cheek in retaliation. “I’ll come, I guess.”

Taehyung and Taemin cheer, and Minho wraps his arm around your shoulder and squeezes you tight. “We should invite the other girls,” he points out, chuckling when you splutter for air in his ironclad grasp and try in vain to shake him off. “Don’t want it to be a total sausage fest.”

“Penis party is a much better term,” Taehyung interjects helpfully. “It’s alliterative.”

“You want alliterative? How about a cock carnival?” Jimin supplies, before doubling over in giggles.

You huff, exasperated at the ludicrous turn in conversation. “I can’t believe I’m coming with you guys.”

Minho snickers. “Title of your sex tape,” he jokes, punctuating it with a suggestive eyebrow waggle that sobers your brother up immediately. Jimin straightens up and fixes Minho with a glare, and despite your brother’s smaller stature, the older boy still shrinks back slightly.

“Dude, that’s my sister.”

Minho raises his hands apologetically. “Sorry, sorry. Automatic response. My bad.”

You just roll your eyes. “Are you twelve? God. I don’t know how the girls put up with any of you.”

Gradually, the night draws to a close. The number of people milling about dwindles, and Taehyung fiddles with his phone, letting out a satisfied hum when he finds the playlist he wants. The music transforms into something low and smooth, the soft R&B beat filling the room. You feel your eyes begin to droop.

“We should probably head home,” Jimin says, stretching his arms lazily overhead. “Noona here has to get her beauty sleep, and I don’t feel like carrying her back if she falls asleep here.”

“Shut up, Chim,” you mumble, but there’s no real bite in your tone. Jimin just chuckles and stands up, tugging on your hand until you’re on your feet as well. Jungkook straightens up too, and together, you bid farewell to the others and head for the door.

“{Name}, wait a second.”

You turn at the sound of Jisoo’s voice, tilting your head curiously as she lays a gentle hand on your arm and ushers you off to the side. “Yeah?”

Jisoo casts a furtive glance around the hallway, lowering her voice to a murmur. “I see what’s going on with Jungkook,” she whispers once she’s sure the coast is clear.

You stiffen, your mouth opening and closing a few times before you manage to find your voice again. “You… you saw us?”

She nods. “He’s been watching you all night—it’d honestly be harder not to notice. I just…” She sighs and looks around again, missing the relief that must be etched across your expression as her gaze lingers on where Jungkook and Jimin are loitering by the door. “…just be careful, okay? Jungkook—he’s changed this past year. I mean, I don’t know if all the rumors are true, but… he’s not the same guy you probably remember. He went out with Chae for a few weeks, did she tell you that?”

At your look of horror, she sighs. “Figures. She hides it well, but I know she’s still torn up about how he ended it after they slept together. So watch out for him, okay? He’s a heartbreaker. And he never, ever stays until the morning.”

Every word that leaves her mouth stings, but you don’t let that show on your face. Instead, you force a smile and pat her hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry about me,” you tell her. “I’m not going to get involved with him.”

You repeat that to yourself the whole way home, trying not to focus on the young man a few paces away and the way you can still taste him on your tongue.

[transmogrified-in-the-void]

(prompt) some human wakes up to find their quirrel plush has become the real quirrel

I am. so sorry this took so long it literally was bc i couldnt find a good name for the human ;-; but i hope you enjoy!

Amalia's had their Quirrel plush since they were ten years old. Having been enamored by the world Team Cherry had made, and further drawn in by the pillbug met throughout the Knight's journey, their parents had gotten it as a gift. One that they cherished with everything they had.

The Quirrel plush had seen them through some of the hardest moments of their life. Their parents divorce, Grandma Gigi's death, moving across the country, everything that went down in high school, he was there for it all. During the nights where Amalia couldn't hold it in anymore, he helped with the tears.

He was even there for the greatest moments of her life, too. Meeting their best friend, graduating high school, college, moving into their first apartment, he followed. After two decades of intense love and many cuddles, he had become worn down and faded, but loved no less.

Amalia had thought that the Quirrel plush that had seen them through so much would stay with them forever. At least, that would have been the case if it wasn't for the fact that they had to puppy-sit their best friend's dog.

They don't even know how he got within eating range of the puppy, but he did while they had been in the bedroom trying to find something. And they had returned to see gaping holes in his body, and fluff everywhere.

They gently, quickly, took plush Quirrel out of the puppy's mouth and gave her the dog toy she was supposed to chew on, and barely made it to the closest room with a door before she started to cry.

Amalia knew, logically, that they could get Quirrel fixed, but at that point it wasn't going to be the Quirrel that had lived more than half a lifetime with them, not anymore. So they cried and mourned the loss of their dearest possession, and most trusted confidant, until the sky was dark.

So Amalia put the puppy into her kennel, and went to bed.

---

Quirrel is left in a box on the highest shelf until Amalia's best friend comes to take her back. Then, and only then, do they take the box down.

And almost drops it when there's the sound of a small voice inside.

They put the box on the table and carefully peer over the side, expecting to see a motion activated soundbox and the remains of Quirrel, only to see . . . Quirrel?

"Oh my! What is this?" The small, moving, real Quirrel hums. He can't be bigger than Amalia's hand, and, taking a closer look at the box, it seems that his nail (sword? it looks more like a sword) is sharp enough to semi-cut through cardboard.

They look back at Quirrel (living, breathing Quirrel), who's staring up at them, and Amalia realizes that they never answered.

"Um, hi? I'm Amalia." They tell the pillbug, who blinks and tilts his head.

"Amalia? I've certainly never heard that name before. Then again, my memory comes and goes now." He mumbles to himself, before perking up slightly. "I'm Quirrel. Where are we, and do you have food and water?"

How . . . How long has he been here? They quickly look up what a pill bug eats (to which Quirrel looks even more confused, somehow), and sighs. At least he won't go hungry.

And they're realizing that they've forgotten to answer a question. Again. "You're in my apartment right now, in Boise. But I don't think city and state matters, since you probably came from Hallownest, right?"

"Are you a Higher Being?" Quirrel asks, and Amalia laughs.

"No, no, just a human." They say, and see Quirrel squint his eyes at them. "A human is like, if a bug's outside shell was a blueprint for their body, but the blueprint was inside and all the squishy stuff was outside. And like, a thousand times larger." Never in their life had they ever thought that they would have to describe humans in relation to a bug, to a bug. "Food and water?"

Quirrel relaxes slightly, and nods before sitting down. Amalia takes an apple out of the fridge, slices it, and puts two slices in the box, as well as a dipping sauce cup full of water.

Taking his nail (sword?), he cuts some of the apple off and spears it before bringing it closer to him. "Thank you, Amalia." He nods at them.

As they watch him eat, they can't help but think that this is just the beginning.

-------

and i was gonna add more but this is all i could write. who knows, maybe i add more to the adventures of amalia and quirrel

[milfnearyou]

                𝐨𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐧: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥.

 “𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮.”

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2.4K | 𝐎𝐇 𝐒𝐄𝐇𝐔𝐍 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: ANGST. CHEATING. BETRAYAL. SUGGESTIVE. THATS PRETTY MUCH IT THIS TIME AROUND. NGL THIS ISN’T MY BEST WORK AND IS A SHORT ONE SHOT, SORRY! CLICK HEADER FOR HIGHER RESOLUTION BC TUMBLR IS STUPID.

VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

“So you just woke up one day and decided you loved me?!” 

Your voice was painfully shrill, bouncing against the metal walls and echoing through the elevator shaft. If you hadn't been so furious, you would've cringed at the way you sounded. Considering your behaviour to be completely out of character and rather petty. But it was impossible to think straight. With all the sirens in your mind screaming 'Alert!' causing you to grow defensive. You saw everything as red, wrapped in a series of warning signs. Eager to protect yourself you grew aggressive, fury coursing through your veins and laced with disgust. 

The disbelief was evident in your tone, accompanied by the extremely annoyed look plastered on your face. Your eyebrows were contorted together, lightly creasing your forehead as you anxiously chewed on your bottom lip. Your hands were balled into tight fists trembling at your sides as you fought the urge to beat the living crap out of him. 

"Fucking answer me Sehun!" You exclaim, throwing your hands in the air. You didn't understand him, not taking any of his bullshit words seriously as a result. Had he been telling the truth, had he truly meant every word he said. Sehun wouldn't have just stood there in front of you with nothing to say. The silence he offered simply adding more fuel to the fire that raged inside of you. 

"So now you're silent? You weren't this fucking quiet back when you were professing your so-called love to me?! What's gotten into you now?"

Again, nothing but silence. The tall man simply stands there in front of you with his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants as the elevator continues to rise higher and higher. With every floor, the elevator cabinet passed, the angrier you got and it didn't help that you lived in a high rise apartment. If he continued to act this way you'd be fuming, steam emitting from your body by the time you'd reach your floor.

“Do you even know what it means to love someone? Or do you just throw yourself in any direction that proves beneficial to your selfish well being?” The questions flew past your lips one after another. You weren’t going to hold back either. Pushing yourself towards him, forcing him to explain himself. 

You didn't deserve the silence. You deserved proper answers, ones that were absent from the immature man in front of you. 

"Answer me right now or I swear to god I'm cutting you off forever," Warning him, you take a step forward to face him closer. Invading his personal space as you stare at him, craning your neck upwards with your arms crossed. 

Watching him like a hawk, you attentively wait. Noticing how he seems to take a slight step back, his broad chest heaving up and down slowly. He seems to be nervous or perhaps, flustered? It was hard for you to believe that with all the ways he could've handled the situation this was what he opted for.

Step by step, you get closer and closer towards Sehun until he's got his back pressed against the metal walls of the elevator. It was hard to believe that someone who looked dominant most of the time could be so cowardly. 

"I'm not asking again," You state, pressing your index finger roughly against his chest. Physically pushing him around until he's finally had enough. His large hands pressing against your shoulders as he shoves you back, regaining his confidence. Finally, he refutes, silence no longer being an option for him.

“Fuck off! Do you want an answer? Fine, but you don't have to act like such an invasive bitch about things!" 

Stunned your eyes widen. You can't tell if you should be offended or impressed with just how much you pushed him but you let him speak. Not saying anything even though he had just called you a bitch. 

"No, I didn’t just wake up one morning and decide that I’d fall in love with you! It took me countless days and nights, essentially adding up into months of thinking about nothing except you! Do you know how painful it felt for me? Do you not understand how guilty I felt?!” The tone in his voice is dangerously low as he narrows his eyes at you. It's his turn to match your attitude, fixing his posture and standing tall. 

"Oh really? So you only thought about how you felt and not how I would feel knowing about your feelings for me? Sehun, how selfish can you be? You aren't the only person on this godforsaken planet!" 

"You don't think I knew that? I know you wouldn't be happy with this but you have to understand that had I kept everything to myself and continued to hang out around you; it would've been both disrespectful to you but also incredibly torturous to me. It was worth gambling my feelings and confessing with the consequence of potentially losing a friend instead of hiding it."  

Taken aback, you feel yourself pause and you hate yourself for it. Sehun has a point, he's valid for being upfront about things but there was just one thing that didn't sit right with you. Despite wanting an answer and getting it you curse yourself for falling silent. The hypocrisy of your silence hitting you square in the face but you're not done. You still have one more thing to say.

"What about the fact that you're still dating my best friend? Did you think about how much this would hurt her? No, let me guess, I bet you haven't even mentioned anything to her," Bringing your best friend up seemed to be the major thing standing in between both of you.

Sehun stares at you like he's been frozen in time. His features completely poised and monotone as your eyes scan his face for any sign of emotion. It was still much too hard to accept his words, to trust them and understand that it came from the bottom of his heart. Your anger was now replaced with complete confusion, perhaps even denial as you scoff at him. He was crazy to think you'd ditch your best friend for a man like him.

Sehun only stood there with his shoulders pushed back, his posture relaxed. His orange tufts of hair making him look like a complete clown. His current demeanour was very different in comparison to how defensive he was earlier.

How could he be so hot and cold? None of it made sense with his face being completely unreadable, everything felt bland like a black and white movie. Sehun could scream as much as he wanted but his words would never get through, bouncing behind the screen, staying unheard from the crowd. All these things made it impossible to find the sincerity he had in his words represented in his body language. 

The elevator came to a stop with a rather loud ding notifying you that it had arrived on your floor. You take one last look at Sehun battling with yourself on whether or not someone as selfish as him was worth entangling yourself with. But no matter how you thought of it you couldn't accept him. With Sehun came consequences, ones that you weren't willing to risk getting into and that being losing your best friend. Someone who was there for you through thick and thin could never be replaced with a man you'd only known for roughly a year.

He didn't mean anything to you and he wasn't allowed to have any meaning in your life, it just wasn't okay. Betrayal had a greater impact than love, you would be foolish to accept the latter. 

Leaving him behind, you step outside of the elevator. Realizing just how much more breathable the air outside the shaft was in comparison to being back inside holed up with your worst nightmare. Your moment of freedom is cut short when you feel his lean arms wrap around your waist pulling you back inside.

He's clinging onto you like a child refusing to let go as he rests his head next to your shoulder. His hot breath brushing against your neck, making you uncomfortable for many reasons that were quite obvious. He just wasn't single nor available and you couldn't let yourself be the other girl. 

“Please just—take a chance. I'm willing to cross oceans for you, tear apart anything that stands in my way because I love you. I'll break up with her, she's nothing like you. Why can't you see that I love you?” He rambles, his voice falling soft. Sehun sounds like he's about to fall apart as he speaks into the crook of your neck. 

His voice vibrating against your skin, echoing through your mind. Despite his tone being no louder than a whisper, his message came loud and clear. Slowly his plump, soft lips make contact with your skin as you freeze in place watching as the elevator doors slam shut. Moving downwards again you feel like you're slowly descending to hell. 

His actions gave you goosebumps as he peppered kisses against your neck. Using one hand to grasp your waist, holding you close to him. While the other cupped your cheek, tilting your head slightly so he could gain better access to your body, his kisses moving down south and landing onto your shoulder. Pushing your shirt slightly aside before gently biting down on your skin causing you to gasp. 

Sehun's touch was electrifying and almost hypnotizing, you felt yourself growing dizzy and out of touch with your surrounding. As he continued using his lips to convey how much you meant to him against your screaming mind that yelled at you not to do this to your best friend. But like a fool, you melt into his touch. Lips falling apart, as your chest heaves up and down. The air feels intoxicating as he rotates your head towards him. His lips crashing against yours as you feel like you're about to pass out. 

You can't give in, you can't betray your best friend and yet, you feel yourself kissing him back. Your tongue tangling with his, exchanging dirty, secretive kisses. Turning around to face him better you fall into all the places you knew weren't right and that was right into the arms of Sehun's. Intertwining your fingers with his, holding onto him tightly as if the only chance you'd have with him would be taken away. 

Now you knew what it meant to be selfish and just how delicious it tasted. 

The elevator is filled with the lewd, smacking of the shared kisses between you both. His body grinding into yours as you feel yourself growing heavy. Developing a strong heartbeat where your filthy desires lay. You felt yourself growing wet, shifting your thighs uncomfortably together. Feeling his hand snake down towards the waistline of your skirt, tugging on them. 

"You just have to say the word and I'm dropping everything and everyone for you," He says in between kisses as you tilt your head back in pleasure when you feel his fingers slipping past your skirt. Hovering dangerously over your soaked heat. "Do you want to run away with me?" He asks. 

You want to say yes. Your body having a mind of its own would rather speak for you but you just can't bring yourself to go through with it. The image of your best friend is hung up in your mind and even though the damage has already been done, you still don't think it's too late to stop. 

“I can’t and you know I won’t,” You reply, wincing at how your voice cracks. You didn’t want to seem weak in front of him, you needed to show him you had control over how you felt. That you were sure you didn't want him but it was all a lie. A lie you told yourself and in return had the truth spoken out loud by the actions of your body. 

Sehun knew of this and yet, his peppered kisses come to a halt. The grip he's got around you loosening as his hand slips out of your skirt. You step out of his grasp feeling ashamed, not daring to look at him. Turning around and staring at the doors instead. Fixing your shirt you crane your neck from side to side trying your best to calm down. Bringing a shaky hand towards the elevator buttons and clicking for your floor. 

You can feel Sehun's gaze boring holes into the back of your head. 

"I don't understand. Why can't you just let me love you? It's not that hard to just give me a shot. I can give you the world, give you all the happiness and security you need in life."

"--Let me be the man that protects you, that cherishes you. I know it's hard because of her but...don't we deserve to be happy?" He pleads, his voice wavering. If you had turned around to face him you'd see his lips quivering. His dark, brown eyes are glossy with tears threatening to escape from the tiny apertures of his tear ducts. 

But currently, it's your turn to fall silent. All because you know that despite him falling at the seams, begging you to love him you know that he'll only go back to being the same once he's got you twirling around his dainty fingers. His norm being the same silent person as always, emotionally unavailable and confusing as always. Plus, who's to say he won't just ditch you like he's doing to your best friend? 

"It's your turn to answer me," He pleads but you ignore him. Thanking the timing of the elevator for opening right at the end of his sentence. 

Quickly stepping off you pray that he doesn't snake himself around you again because if he does, you don't know if you had the power inside to fight him off again and thankfully he doesn't. Sehun leaves you alone watching you get out of his view, the sound of your Chelsea boots clicking against the hallway floors until suddenly you're just gone. A wave of heartbreak washing over his feelings as he realizes that he just can't sit here and do nothing. 

He won't go back to your best friend, he doesn't love her and in fact, he never did. It wasn't his choice to hurt her like this but he couldn't help but fall in love with the wrong person. So he chases you, chases the love of his life eager to satisfy his selfishness and have you by his side. 

The consequence of dealing with your best friend could come later but first, he needed to convince you once and for all that he was the only good thing in his life. Your best friend was to be replaced. 

   𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃: 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐅𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐔©︎

[feliix]

Patio Penetration ✦ PJM (18+)

✦  Pairing: Jimin x Reader ✦ Word count: 2k ✦  Rating: M 

✦ Genre: Smut, Romance, Fluff(ish), Established Relationship!AU ✦ Warnings: pwp, unprotected sex, explicit sex, creampie, fingering, teasing, dirty talk(?), Jimin has a big dick, like no foreplay, semi-public sex (maybe?), dom/sub themes (dom!jimin),a tiny bit of begging ✦ Summary: you burn your tongue on some takeout food and Jimin kisses it better

✦ Requested by @hobiance​ “time to unleash all of the requests ive been wanting to send u but didnt know i could heheheheh okay lets get this started. JIMIN + WINE.” and this anon “Hello!! I saw the drabble and thought maybe I could request from one of my favorite writers? 🥺 Could I have wine with our Jiminie? Maybe something about dates too 👉👈”

✦ A/N: Posting this at 3am because I have 0 self control and because Lainey told me to. also not edited bc its 3am and I’m nothing if not a mess ✦ Written for the BHQ Drinks and Drabbles game hosted by @bangtan-dreamland​​

It was a Saturday, and that meant it was date night. Tonight, Jimin had decided to pick up some takeout on his way home to have a little make-shift picnic on your patio. It wasn’t all that fancy, but it was intimate and it was special – just the way you like it.

Unfortunately, on Jimin’s venture home from the shop the food had become a little too cold for your liking. So naturally, you just threw what you could in the microwave for a minute or so and it was good as new.

Hot steam wafts off of your noodles and into the air, but that doesn’t stop you from digging in. Patience was a virtue, but it was not a virtue that you had ever learned.

Right on impact the hot noodles burned your mouth. Your immediate reaction is to suck air in through your teeth, attempting to cool down the temperature and relieve some of the pain from your burning tongue. An agitated groan leaves your mouth as you find the strength to chew and swallow your food – wincing from the burning feeling that was destroying your tastebuds.

Jimin glances in your direction, his eyes full of concern as his eyebrows quickly raise. By instinct he grabs the water placed beside you and hands you the glass. Graciously, you take it from his hand, chugging the ice cold liquid to soothe the blistering sensation garnering your mouth.

“Ow,” is the only word that you can muster out as you finish swishing the water around your mouth, momentarily easing the pain. With a deep sigh, Jimin raises from his seat, walking around the table to stand over you.

“Let me see,” he says, hand reaching for your chin to lift your head in his direction. As you tilt your head back you stick out your tongue for his viewing, the light chill of the air slightly easing the pain. He analyzes it closely, eyes narrowing in concentration as he looks at the affected area.

Sun still shining brightly onto your patio, you close your eyes. Once again you forgot to put on sunglasses before coming outside, big mistake. And then you feel it. His hot breath fanning over your face as he inches closer and closer. Your natural reaction to him being this close to you is to get turned on. How could you help yourself? He was just that attractive – even if he was just trying to be sweet and check your tongue for burns.

But you underestimate how sweet his intentions actually are. Or maybe they are, and the soft yet savory kiss that he leaves on your tongue was meant to be a sign of care. It could have been nothing more than just a nice gesture, but the arousal beginning to pool in your panties said otherwise.

You suck in a quick gust of air promptly in reaction to his plump lips meeting your tongue once again; you know this is no longer a gesture filled with good intentions. Snapping your head back into place, you meet his lust filled gaze. His eyes are narrowed and his tongue runs across his bottom lip enticingly. He’s taking in every inch of your body as he looks you up and down, and your stomach flips at the thought of him having you right here.

In an instance you are looping your hands around the back of his neck, pulling him in closer to you. When your lips meet his you feel a rush of relief, the heat traveling through your veins and to your core awakening as his hands begin roaming your body. His fingers trace the hem of your top, lifting it swiftly while breaking your heated kiss to remove the garment. The light breeze brushes against your now bare stomach, small goosebumps rising to the surface as you connect your lips with his once more.

“Here?” You ask in a whisper, your foreheads pressed together as your gaze turns downward to his crotch. Just as you suspected – he was already growing hard.

A mumbled “yes” was Jimin’s only response – well that and ripping your pants off your body so fast that you almost fell off the chair you were seated on. “Flip over,” he says as his hand meets the small of your back, guiding you to stand up. Hands placed down on the chair you were just sitting in, you bend at the waist, ass  pointed in his direction as he fumbles with the buckle of his jeans.

Your heart raced as you waited for him to make a move. Desire was growing high and arousal was dripping down your thighs. Of course, this didn’t go without Jimin noticing. His hand parted between your legs, grazing its way up your thighs as he made his way to your entrance. The last thing on your mind was the lingering burning sensation on your tongue.

“Already so wet for me,” you shiver at his words as his fingers circle your entrance. All you could focus on was his erect member rubbing at your ass as the pads of his fingers smeared the wetness along your slit. As a digit brushes past your clit you instinctively wince, so sensitive to his touch it was becoming difficult to control your body. A high pitched moan leaves your throat as he begins rolling your clit between his fingers, pinching it lightly, making you keen over in pleasure.

His fingers trace the extent of your slit back until they meet your entrance once more. Swiftly, his fingers dip into the arousal pooling out of your core. Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth. The slow movement of just one finger plunging into your depths taking your breath away in an instant.

As arousal drenched his fingertips butterflies erupt in your tummy. It was getting harder and harder for your legs to support you and your arms were wobbly and unstable. “I can’t hold out much longer,” you say between breaths , doing everything in your power not to lose control right then and there.

“Not yet,” he orders, an arm wrapping around your stomach to stabilize you as he hovered over your shaking body. With this new position you could feel his tip poking against your entrance, teasing you. And with that was the tip of the iceberg. Clamping your thighs together, Jimin’s hand became immobile; trapped between your legs and no longer able to tease you.

“Jimin if you don’t stop I’m going to cum,” you choke out, tears beginning to gather in the corners of your eyes from holding back your much needed release. With a sneer like laugh he retracts his hand, leaving a quick slap to your ass cheek on his way back. Your muscles tighten one again, the knot in your stomach slowly starting to dwindle as he takes his member in his hand.

Jimin slowly begins pumping his shaft, making sure to gather the precum at his tip and coat his member in a beautiful mixture of the both of your juices. Your legs remain clenched together as you try to suppress the desire flooding your system. All you wanted was him to fuck you right here and now, and you were in no mood to beg tonight.

Leaning slightly forward onto your elbows, you arched your back lower, lifting your ass higher to try and get his attention. He was taking far too long and focusing on catching your breath was more important than asking for what you wanted at this point. What better way to tell him to fuck you already than to rock your hips back, causing the tip of his cock to rest against your ass?

“Use your words, Princess,” a smirk grows onto his face as he takes notice of what you’re trying to do. An agitated whine soon leaves your mouth. You were too tired to beg, and he had already wound you up enough.

“Jimin please,” you moan, “please just fuck me already.” Leg bouncing impatiently as you wait for him, he finally lines himself up at your entrance. A steep gasp passes through your lips as his cock slides itself into you; your velvety walls squeeze the veiny ridges of his member as you take him in.

A string of curses leaves his mouth as his shaft slides into your cunt. The arousal spilling from your hole coating his cock as you clench around him. Jimin’s hands find their place on your hips, holding you steady as you adjust to his size. Even after all this time together, every time you have sex feels like the first. Maybe it was cliché to think so, but acclimating to his size would never be easy. 

It was comfortable. Even though you were on your back patio where your neighbors could see you at any moment, the setting was beautiful and everything in this moment was perfect. The sun was just beginning to set and the passing breeze chilled the perspiration beginning to gather on your skin. You’ve never felt better than you do in this moment – speared on your boyfriend’s cock while you waited for your food to cool.

As Jimin began thrusting in and out of you, your hands took grip on the sides of the chair, holding on for dear life knowing what was in store. His movements were beginning to quicken rapidly, the sounds of his skin colliding with yours and the deep moans echoing from his throat filling your ears. Your chest heaves deeper and heavier with each of his movements, soft whines bubbling past your lips as he meets new places within your core.

“Fuck you’re so tight,” he groans, teeth clenching as you squeeze tightly around him. The familiar knot in your stomach was making its way back to you. The repetitive tap of Jimin’s tip deep inside you had you too far gone. With one powerful thrust, you were coming undone around him. Your legs soon begin to crumble underneath you before his arms wrap around you to catch you from falling.

A gentle scream escapes your mouth as you ride out your high, Jimin’s pace only quickening to chase his own. The familiar tingling sensation begins to rush through your veins as oversensitivity starts to set in. When your eyes slam shut all you can see are stars, small white blotches blinding your vision as your pussy continues to spasm around him.

You aren't even able to catch your breath as your orgasm begins to subside. Jimin is too busy pounding into you, his hips meeting your ass with a slap as he bottoms out.

“Don’t pull out,” you say quietly. All that's on your mind is being filled to the brim with Jimin’s cum. You’re aching for his release, squeezing your core as hard as you can to ease it from him. The grip he holds on your waist tightens, his face scrunching as he focuses on chasing his high, “want you to fill me up.”

And with that, he was. Collapsing over you, he held you close as he reached his high. His heavy breathing fanned over the back of your neck, your shirt sticking to your back as beads of perspiration soiled the fabric.

“Love you,” he whispers in your ear, kissing just below it. You can feel the rise of his cheeks against your skin as he smiles. It was comfortable here, with him like this. Almost too comfortable for having sex out in the open like this, but it was past the point of caring as he held you tight in his arms.

“Love you more,” you whisper back as a grin stretches wide across your face.

“I think we might have to heat up the food again,” he chuckles before pulling out of you to look at the food placed neatly on the table.

“I’ll make sure I wait for it to cool down this time,” you giggle as you stand upright, legs still feeling jello-like as you search for your pants.

“I can think of something to do while we wait for it to cool,” Jimin smirks as you turn in his direction. His eyebrows are lifted suggestively, winking at you when you make eye contact. “Round two?”

'Patio Penetration’ is copyright 2020 @parksfilter​​​, all rights reserved. Pleas do not repost on any platform or translate without permission.

[fatedfuturist]

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑻𝑹𝑼𝑻𝑯𝑺.

bold –   always  ⁄  often   ( throughout his history ) italic   –   sometimes  ( throughout his history )

001.   smoking:  the  action  or  habit  of  inhaling  &  exhaling  the  smoke  of  tobacco  or  a  drug.

𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬.  found it as a means of stress relief and to ‘fit in’ and ‘be cool.’  has since stopped, though when under extreme stress, he may be seen resorting to sporting a cigarette ;  the occasion is rare and practically non-existent, though not impossible.

002.   binge drinking:  the  consumption  of  an  excessive  amount  of  alcohol  in  a  short  period  of  time.

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞.  had his first drink at five, a child under pressure by his own father.  years later, he would begin to suffer under the grips of alcohol for decades, the addiction debilitating as a means of a crutch.  consumed excessive amounts when stressed, depressed, or for the sake of the party.  has since learned to loosen up and even go sober, though he has relapsed quite a few times in the process.

003.   drug abuse:  the  habitual  taking  of  illegal  drugs.

𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧, 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬.  primarily throughout his time during MIT and after the death of his parents.  it was a crutch.  he let go of drugs easier than he did alcohol.

004.   nail-biting:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  anxiety / tension. 005.  lip-biting:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  anxiety / tension. 006.   night owl: a  person  who  is  habitually  active  or  wakeful  at  night.

𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐧𝐢𝐚 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝.  he can’t sleep most nights, not unless he’s exhausted himself physically, or is coaxed to head on up to bed by his significant other.

007.   early bird:  a  person  who  rises ,  arrives ,  or  acts  before  the  usual  or  expected  time. 008.   negative attitudes: a  philosophy  of  approaching  life  with  criticism  &  pessimism.

𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐟 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐲.  typically pessimistic in regards to his own life, rather than the general universe or others.  the signs of a man who have been worn down by the world and has been carrying the weight of said world on his shoulders for too long.

009.   positive attitudes:  a  philosophy  of  approaching  life  with  optimism  &  confidence.

𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞.  he is, by every sense of he word, a futurist.  he builds and he looks toward the future as something bigger and better than the current time.  will optimistically look toward saving as many people as possible before feeling the burden of pessimism chime in.

010.  swearing:  the  use  of  offensive  language. 011.   superstitious:  an  irrational  belief  that  an  object ,  action ,  or  circumstance  not  logically  related  to  a  course  of  events  influences  its  outcome. 012.   inspecting fingernails:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  boredom. 013.  scratching your neck:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  uncertainty. 014.   foot  & finger  tapping:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  stress / impatience. 015.   nose touch:  a  subtle  body  language  sign  of  deceit. 016.   flipping  hair:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  craving  attention. 017.   twirling  hair:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  flirtation. 018.   cracking  knuckles:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  readiness. 019.   hands behind back:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  confidence. 020.   finger-pointing:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  authority. 021.   hands on hips:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  readiness. 022.  hands in pockets:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  mistrust  /  reluctance. 023.  frequent touch:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  warmth / familiarity.

𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭.  those that do not know him or are strangers, however, are less of the receiving end of touch.  touch is a matter of trust for tony, and he doesn’t trust easily.

024.   throat  –  clearing:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  rejection / doubt. 025.   jaw  –  clenching:  a  common  body  language  sign  of  hostility. 026.   eye  –  rolling: a  common  body  language  sign  of  irritation. 027.  head  –  tilt: a  common  body  language  sign  of  interest. 028.   whistling: to  emit  high  –  pitched  sound  by  forcing  breakthrough  a  small  hole  between  one’s  lips  or  teeth;  usually  to  a  tune. 029.   humming:  make  a  low,  steady  continuous  sound  like  that  of  a  bee;  usually  to  a  tune. 030.   perfectionism:  refusal  to  accept  any  standard  short  of  perfection. 031.   photographic memory:  the  ability  to  remember  information  or  visual  images  in  great  detail. 032.   paranoia:  a  mental  condition  characterized  by  delusions  of  persecution,  unwarranted  jealousy,  or  exaggerated  self - importance,  typically  worked  into  an  organized  system.  

𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐦𝐚.  from the abuse of his father during his childhood and youth to the betrayal of people he believed would never turn their hand on him, and the death and rebirth of the universe at his hands, he has become increasingly paranoid of what comes next.

033.   exaggeration:  a  statement  that  represents  something  as  better  or  worse  than  it  really  is.

𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜.  has a tendency to speak loud and with hyperboles when he feels the need to be melodramatic.

034.   intuitive:  using  or  based  on  what  one  feels  to  be  true  even  without  conscious  reasoning;  instinctive. 035.  quick-witted:  showing  or  characterized  by  an  ability  to  think  or  respond  quickly  &  effectively.   036.   interrupting:  breaking  the  continuity  of  a  conversation  with  one’s  own  statements.

𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲.  having shown symptoms of ADHD, his train of thought jumps from one cart to another, connecting thoughts in a disjointed manner, and interrupting his own original train of thought to begin with. 

037.   doodling:  to  scribble  or  make  rough  drawings,  absentmindedly. 038.   irritable:  having  or  showing  a  tendency  to  be  easily  annoyed. 039.   gambling:  to  play  games  of  chance  for  money;  bet.

𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐢𝐱𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐤, he enjoyed gambling as it was fun and unpredictable.  he had the money to spend.  he still does, but he finds that gambling is just as bad of an addiction as anything else.  now, he sticks to playful bets and challenges that do not have much danger associated to them.

040.   travel – sick:  suffering  from  nausea  caused  by  the  motion  of  a  moving  vehicle ,  boat ,  or  aircraft. 041.   sensitive:  having  or  displaying  a  quick  &  delicate  appreciation  of  others’  feelings.

𝐞𝐱𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐲.  having experienced many painful and traumatic events in his lifetime, he finds it easy to relate and both sympathize and empathize with others’ and their feelings.

042.  melancholy:  a  feeling  of  pensive  sadness,  typically  with  no  obvious  cause.

𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐜.  not for any particular reason.  often has depressive episodes and occasional mood swings that drive him toward this category of feeling sadness and emptiness.

043.   chewing gum:  the  exercise  of  chewing  flavored  gum  which  is  not  intended  for  swallowing. 044.   fidgeting:  to  make  small  movements,  especially  of  the  hands  &  feet,  through  nervousness  or  impatience.

𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧; it is not non-existent.  tony has had a lifetime of experience in front of cameras and lights where he finds himself usually as the most uncomfortable.  although he copes and performs well under the spotlight, small nervous ticks such as fidgeting in certain scenarios will still shine through when enough attention is paid on his body language.

045.  skeptical:  not  easily  convinced;  having  doubts  or  reservations. 046.   neat–freak:  compulsively  obsessed  with  cleanliness. 047.   gossiping:  divulging  personal  information  about  others. 048.   prim:  feeling  or  showing  disapproval  of  anything  regarded  as  improper;  stiffly  correct. 049.   abbreviating:  giving  others  nicknames / shortening  names / giving  pet  names.

𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐲, he finds creative monikers for others’, or shortens peoples’ names where he sees fit.  some are of good taste, some are cheesy.

050.   having a catchphrase: having  a  sentence  or  phrase  typically  associated  with  a  specific  person.

“ 𝐢 𝐚𝐦 𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐧. ”

tagged by :  @fallencomrade​ a while ago bc i lose track as u tag me in so many good things SDHKJFSDJFDJ tagging :   @stormweathered  /  @shlded   @thawedpatriot  @genotypiic  @sensesdialed​

[cle1024]

i am who | bc

member: bang chan 

genre: fluff (but only the tiniest bit), angst 

summary: how can i know where to go? i lost my path to the answer. 

warnings: mentions of suicide—please do not read this if the topic will trigger or upset you. if you, or someone you know, are in need of help, please reach out to people. you are not alone. i sincerely apologise if this comes off as a glorification of suicide, that is not my intention.

a/n: this goes for all my writing, but the gifs i use are from we heart it. if i use your gif and don’t credit you, it’s because i found it on there and there was no credit given. i apologise in advance my dudes ♡ 

You fiddled with your thumbs as you anxiously glanced at the black screen of your mobile phone. The cafe bustled with noise, letters being tapped on keyboards under the sounds of hushed chatter and whirring coffee machines. In all honesty, you hadn’t a clue where you were. Whatever city or suburb a train drove to, whichever felt ‘right’ as you glanced out the window, was the one you’d end up in for a certain amount of time—depended on how unsatisfactory the area was. The scent of new coffee infested your senses, even more so than before if that was possible, as the server yelled out your name to alert you to the preparation of your order. You fumbled slightly prior to swiftly moving to the counter, picking up the caramel macchiato you’d wasted four dollars on. Caffeine was an adequate substitute for exhaustion you supposed, even if some of it was too hot, too bitter or too sweetened. You plopped down into your chair tiredly eyeing the drink with an unintentionally sombre expression, one you were peacefully oblivious to until a voice broke your stare off with the liquid, “hey, is everything alright?” You glanced upwards in curiosity to be met with brooding dark eyes and slightly lighter curly hair, still a dark shade of brown. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” you replied with a gentle smile as you glanced back down at your order. The male hesitated slightly before sliding into the seat across from you, leading you to look up at him curiously. 

“I’m sorry to be bothersome. I swear I only came over to check if you were alright, but I just saw someone that I really don’t want to run into so can I please—” you chuckled lightly as his panicked rambling. 

“It’s alright, sit there as long as you like,” your reassuring smile faltered slightly as you paused to mumble faintly, “it’s not like anyone else was gonna sit there,” the male noticed your words but chose to ignore them, it wasn’t his business after all. Though there were still questions plaguing his mind about you. 

“Are you from around here? It’s a pretty small town, you know, ‘everyone knows everyone’ kind of crap.” 

You smiled softly with him, “no, I’m not from this area at all.” 

“What brought you here?” 

A soft hum passed your lips as you pondered the most vague yet satisfactory answer, “perhaps fate or wonderlust, a train,” he chuckled melodically while you shrugged, “guess I just needed a change of scenery.” 

His head moved in an understanding nod as he fiddled with the sleeve of his black sweater, “yeah, I get that,” there was a long pause in the conversation. You swirled the drink sat on the dark wood table while the boy across from you drummed a beat on the table lightly, watching pedestrians wander about on their daily lives. He sighed gently as he turned to face you once more, “do you think people are bored here?” 

You didn’t hesitate to respond, “everyone’s bored,” your fingers let go of the straw as you folded your arms over the table, looking past the boy’s shoulder, “people want to be remembered for something but they never actually do anything. Everyone just sticks to the same routine hoping something in their tiny bubble will change, as if one day they’ll wake up and get smiled at by every person on the street.” 

The curly haired boy analysed you momentarily, taking in the way you furrowed your eyebrows and focused on his shoulder rather than his face as you spoke. He let out a sharp breath through his nose as a smirk engraved in his lips, “everyone has their fantasy,” his eyes downcast to the time displayed on his phone, “what’s your name?” 

“Y/N.” 

He shoved his phone in his pocket as he slid from the chair across from you, “well, Y/N, you’re one interesting soul.” 

With that he smiled warmly, showing the deep indentations of his dimples, turning to walk through the glass door to the cafe. You hadn’t a name to recall him by, nor a way of contacting him in the future. Then again, why would you bother doing so? You wouldn’t stay in this place for long, you never stayed in one place for long, there was no point in getting attached to another person. He’ll just leave you like the rest of them. 

Although you supposed that searching ‘best rundown ramen restaurant near me’ wouldn’t provide you with the responses you were hoping for, that didn’t stop you from allowing your fingers to swiftly tap the letters to form the sentence—of course it showed up with nothing close to what you were looking for. Perhaps a poor review of a ramen restaurant would provide you with the answers you hoped for, the search of which landed you outside of the shitty motel waiting for your taxi to swing by and rid you of even more money, even if for a short journey. The car was sleek, well polished and clean on the inside, the driver of which seemed to be around your age with a nurturing smile and gentle voice. 

“Where to?” 

“Just to the Kalguksu and Mandu ramen place,” you responded curtly. Your head rested against the cool glass window of the car as the lights of the city flashed past in blurs of red, yellow, white and green. Every now and then the yell or obnoxious laughter of a pedestrian would force its way through the confines of the car, tickling your ears for less than a second before it faded out just as fast as it came. Time seemed to slip by you in the car, soon the ten minute journey had ended abruptly and you were now sitting in a stationary vehicle. You handed the money to the driver wordlessly before exiting the cab, watching as the black-haired driver began the drive to his next location. Now that you thought about it, he resembled a bear. Not that it mattered. 

The steam of the meal wafted abruptly in the air as you blew away the evidence of the scalding heat, your patience wearing thin as your stomach grumbled. The restaurant, store, whatever it was, was empty for the majority. Of the numerous tables, you occupied one while a male sat diagonal to you on the other side of the store. There were two ladies closer to you, young and pretty, chatting amongst themselves in what you identified as Japanese. The one facing you had a black hime haircut, the other with a sleek brown ponytail. You pondered over what they could be talking about—maybe friends, drama, how much they despised work. You hadn’t a clue, nor did you need to know. 

“Did fate and wanderlust bring you here too?” Your focus changed from the two women to the source of the voice in front of you, eyes met with the same boy from a matter of days ago—though his hair had dramatically shifted from a dark brown to a dirty blonde. His smile still remained as bright, charming dimples and all. You smiled in amusement as he sat across from you with his own food. | “No, just a taxi, lack of money and painful hunger.” 

He laughed at that, melodic and smooth was the best way to describe the sound, “figured just as much. I only think rich people get wanderlust and ogle over rundown places like this.” 

“Watch it, Christopher,” the voice of the young employee behind the counter rang through the air as he smiled smugly in the direction of your table. The coffee shop boy, Christopher you’d now learned, rolled his eyes with a warm smile directed at the other boy. 

“Christopher, huh?” 

“Eh, I prefer Chan. Minho only calls me that because it drives me up the wall, little prick,” he muttered the last part to himself, evidently trying to avoid the wrath of the sharp eyed employee. You pondered momentarily over how they knew each other, though the thoughts were gone once Chan began questioning you instead. 

“How long have you been here for?” 

Your hand picked up your mobile, previously resting on the table, to glance at the white numbers on your home screen, “six days, as of eleven minutes ago,” the blonde’s eyebrows raised in surprise as he chewed on his heated food. You tilted your head slightly at his expression, “what’s that look about?” 

Chan shook his head lightly, “just, most new people don’t last that long here.” 

You nodded as if you understood, yet there was an underlying confusion and ignorance. The gesture seemed to slip by Chan who happily slurped at the noodles in his bowl. You pondered over what his story could be—what the area meant to him, how he knew the employee at the restaurant, why he seemed so interested in your life. For some reason, you didn’t really care for personal information, didn’t care for his birthday or passion, you wanted to know the same things he knew about you. What brought him to this shit hole? Was it birth or a vehicle? Judging by his past comments it must’ve been birth. He seemed to make it clear that no one willingly stayed here—this was a place for desperate people, exactly what you were. 

It had been an aggregation of nine days since you ensured to mind the gap between the train and the platform of the station. You’d met Chan twice, unseen since you stared out the window of a rundown restaurant while you sat across from one another. Three days since Minho had teased him about his name being Christopher, three days since you’d been asked questions you couldn’t truly answer. You weren’t sure why the blonde was on your mind, eyebrow slit and dimples seemed to infest your mind like a mound of ants on a dead cockroach. A shiver ripped through your body as the frosty air nipped past your thin jacket, your legs straining as they carried you around the area. Your phone had been shoved in the pocket of your jeans minutes ago after deciding you could find the rest of your way to the secluded area—some hill that allegedly had a brilliant overview of the city. At least, that’s what Chan told you three nights ago. As your ninth day transitioned to your tenth, you found yourself stood at the bottom of the greenery. There were no plans at the top, not that you could tell at least. It was steep and stretched out quite far, making it near difficult to see the top or what it hid over the other side. Your calves burned slightly as you hiked upwards, fists clenched in the pockets of your jacket. As you heaved gently at the hilltop, you identified a dark figure already sat in the middle of the hill, very top. Just past them you could make out the cement barricade that surrounded the bottom of the hill, likely to stop people from flying off the edge of the cliff if they went running too fast. A bitter sigh passed your lips as you questioned how many deaths it took to erect the infrastructure. The figure turned towards you at the sound of your escaped breath. Their eyes must’ve already been adjusted to the dark, allowing a sound of remembrance to pass their lips before they spoke in full words, “the tables have turned, I see.” 

A smile stretched across your lips at the familiar velvety tone of Chan’s voice, bringing yourself enough steps forward to stand in the vacant spot on the right of him. Your knees bent as you lowered yourself to a seated position, crossing your legs as you placed your hands in your lap. Chan watched you, all the while, his hands resting on the slightly dewy grass behind him as his legs remained outstretched in front of him. He looked at peace in this place, you understood why. From this view, the city seemed so insignificant, like there weren’t people pushing and shoving on the sidewalk or calling out for people to enter their stores. Nothing changed for them, though, nothing would ever change. 

“Nice, huh?” 

“It’s beautiful.” 

Chan moved his eyes sideways, glancing at you momentarily before flicking his eyes back to the scenery. He never took notice in the ‘vibes’ people gave off, thought the whole idea was pretty fucking stupid—he met Minho and thought he was a kind employee at a restaurant, yet a month passed and Chan had learned that he more commonly wore a satisfactory smirk while standing over an unconscious opponents body in a boxing ring. In short, he didn’t judge people by the exterior. 

Silence had riddled the air for a decent ten minutes at this point, excluding the noises the midnight city permitted from below. Your eyes darted around smoothly, to the grass, the sky, the stars, to the body next to you. Chan stared absently from the hill, eyes glazing over at the neon signs of cheap stores and the locked doors of others. He took in every sharp edge of every office building, every curved bumper of the cars, he lost himself in the sight. All those tiny people, unrecognisable and insignificant from such a great distance, “do you think anyone will remember you?” His voice sounded lost, as if it came out without acknowledgement from his brain. 

“No,” your head lowered slightly as you shook it in disapproval, “I have no one left to remember me,” Chan eyed you curiously, you could feel it. The sensation burned into the side of your face even as you avoided staring back at him. A pitiful laugh passed by your lips, “I have nothing—I don’t have friends, I don’t have a family. I don’t even know who I am,” you knew you were oversharing, but it wasn’t like you knew Chan. It wasn’t like you’d see him again—but that was what you told yourself in the cafe, yet here you were. Fucking hell. 

Chan cleared his throat uncertainly, “you—you have me.” 

Your stare remained on your lap whilst your vision began to blur from the water pooling in your eyes. Blinking rapidly, you rid the evidence of your feelings, your vulnerability. A forced smile was mustered up on your face as you looked at Chan, “I guess I do.” 

It didn’t feel that way. 

Your hands shook timidly as they outstretched towards the metal railing in front of you. The noise was distinct and heavy, ocean waves crashing against jagged rocks that covered the shore. It drove anxiousness through you like a slick knife, you hadn’t a clue why. You weren’t facing the possibility  of drowning, nor could a gust of wind somehow pick up your body up high enough to throw you over the top of the railing so you could plummet to your death. The thought obviously lingered in your mind, though. If you wanted to, you could do it by yourself. Not rely on wind or water, just use your two legs to climb up and over. A mild sigh tainted the air as you looked away from the water below. It was stupid, really, how a walk near a beach turned into pondering the numerous ways you could end your life—if you wanted to. You didn’t know if you wanted to yet, hadn’t thought long enough. 

“I don’t have to test my reaction time and run to save you if you fall, do I?” 

You jumped in shock before turning to face the owner of the voice. Chan smiled widely at you, a mix of cheekiness and apology—you forgot you were meeting him here, “Jesus, Chan. I wasn’t planning on it but that scared me enough to fall.” 

He chuckled at your hyperbole, taking gentle strides towards you until he was close enough to rest his arms on the railing beside you, “beautiful, isn’t it?” 

You smiled at the contradiction of some of his past phrases, “yeah, just like everything else in this town. Don’t know why people ‘don’t last that long’,” you mocked towards the end. Chan shifted slightly in his position, “what did you mean by that anyway?” He sighed, scratching his neck. 

“Just… no one sticks around here. Nothing ever happens, nothing ever changes.” 

“Change only happens when you make it happen,” you swiftly rebutted before rolling your eyes softly, “people can’t expect things to be different overnight.” 

The blonde let out an unamused laugh, “tell me about it.” 

You allowed your eyes to wash over the blue that engulfed the landscape. Seafoam and waves, snapped against rocks as the ripples flew in and out. The evening sky was a splatter of dark blues and orange as the sun lowered beyond the horizon, resting for the night until it had to rise. The sun would rise, and you would try again—try the best you could, at least. Time was shifting at a faster pace in your mind. Nine days have passed in this town, soon to be ten in a matter of hours, and you hadn’t a clue how much longer you had. Money was shortening, the motel you were staying in seemed to be draining your wallet much faster than you hoped even though they charged a low price for low quality. 

There was a guilty feeling sinking in your stomach, it was weighing heavier and heavier, to the point where it felt like you were being forced against the metal railing. You knew you’d have to leave town, this was always how it went. Though, this time it would be much more difficult. You’d known Chan for a grand total of… seven days? Six days? You hadn’t a clue, but why did it matter? It didn’t stop the guilty feeling of leaving him without an explanation, without future contact, without a goodbye. Maybe you felt that way because there was a hint of understanding in his eyes when you talked, a genuine curiosity about how you were doing and why you weren’t at home. Home—you hadn’t thought of such a thing in a long time. There wasn’t really a point, in your eyes, home wasn’t somewhere you’d been in a long time. Wasn’t even something you’d had in a long time.  

Under the shadow of midnight you would carry out your plot to leave. Ticket to a train, minding the gap between the train and the platform anywhere far from here, anywhere you haven’t been. Your ears grew desensitised to the sound of moving traffic below the cliff, eyes focused on the stars above you. Each time a new one appeared, you’d dart your attention to that spot. Chan did the same—it would unknowingly be his last night with you, a goodbye in which only you knew the sense of finality it held. You felt bad to leave a promise unfulfilled; this way it would be partially fulfilled. You almost scoffed at your own mindset. All your life you’d detested everyone for leaving you behind, and yet you were about to leave someone behind. Chan was a good person—you hoped he didn’t feel the same way about you. Chan wasn’t someone who deserved to be let down, yet here you were. 

“I still have no fucking clue what I’m doing. There’s nothing here for me.” 

“You have me!” The exclamation settled in the night air before his voice piped up again, meeker and crumbled, “you’ll always have me.” 

You wished it didn’t feel that way.  

“What’s got you down in the dumps?” 

“They left.” 

The younger male scoffed as he scrubbed at porcelain dishes, “don’t they always,” it was intended to lighten the mood but nothing shifted in the atmosphere. He softened slightly and sighed, “their actions say a lot more about them than they say about you, man. Remember that.”  

Chan had never known Minho to be wrong. He was wise, intelligent, albeit a little odd, but there was a fond uniqueness in such oddities. Yet the male couldn’t have been more wrong about you. Your actions did say a lot about you, but not in the way Minho had implied and Chan had believed. There was no maliciousness or gain from your actions, you were just lost. Out of your depth, some place foreign on the outskirts of a city. There were always hints of it but none that Chan ever considered deeply. To him, it was a point of questioning who you were, not how you were. He realised now that he should’ve done the latter. 

He realised that when you were found floating dead in the salty ocean. That was the way Chan found out you were back in town. 

They hadn’t a clue how you died—suicide, murder, accident, anything was possible in this world and yet most people remained mind-numbingly ignorant. Chan didn’t want to be like one of those people, but there was nothing more he could do. He knew you wouldn’t have left a note behind if it was all intentional, you had no one to write to—other than Chan, but he wasn’t sure if you saw it that way. 

That night, eight o’clock and four hours after they found you, Chan had trudged up that godforsaken hill towering over that oblivious city. Every single one of them carried on as if nothing ever happened—you were no one to them, nothing. His knees had made contact with the dewy grass and his eyes had glossed over hopelessly as he stared down towards the city. He always hated the way that stupid cement wall blocked some of the view, the sight of people fleeing to the city in order for bigger opportunities or more expensive alcohol. Tonight, he felt more thankful for it. It had served great purpose to you, clearly, acting as a backdrop to your sticky-taped note. 

Dear Chan, no one else should read this. I, Y/N, am an incredibly selfish person. There’s no one left for me because I drove them all away, something I only accepted very recently, and the one person who was genuinely interested in me was left behind at the local train station with flickering lights. I know I didn’t keep my promise, but I beg you to promise me one thing: I lost to myself, so please don’t mourn a day. Fate is inevitable, and I believe in my heart that this was my destiny. All this time I was jumping from place to place, trying to find answers to questions about who I am and why I am. I did this to find myself and yet I’ve only become more lost. I understand it now, though. My life was just not meant to be, and whichever place I found the most peace in should be the place I lay to rest. I’ll see you on the other side, Chan. I promise I’ll be waiting, but only if you want me to. Keep your head up, Chan, there are angels above you — Y/N. 

In all honesty, Chan was angry to begin with. You wanted to be remembered for something, so you could feel like you had at least one person left by your side before you floated to a higher place. You would be remembered by more people than you could’ve ever imagined—were they murdered, was it a suicide, was it an accident? People talked about your death, they secured that bridge. You changed things for the better, just as you’d hoped, and yet you didn’t stick around to see it. Chan wasn’t sure he could forgive you for that. 

He still wanted you to wait. 

The wind whipped wickedly at your body as it teased the edge. The water splashed below you as it teasingly invited you in, invited you to be at peace. You were stood on the same bridge you visited with Chan, only this time things were different. Alone, crying, hidden by the moonlight. There were stars and a moon, but it seemed as if all colour had been drained from the world—apocalyptic if it were any other time of the day. You glanced back down at the water. You were further down the bridge than last time, and the tide had evidently brought more depth to the water in the time you’d been gone. Certainly you wouldn’t hit the ground if you fell, there were no rocks in this section for you to crack against either. A deep sigh escaped your chapped lips as you eyed the moon. Chan unknowingly mirrored your actions from the hill overlooking the city. You’d made up your mind, you chose peace and freedom over confusions and loss. Your eyelids delicately closed as you stepped away from the railing. At first you could feel yourself falling, but then you didn’t feel anything. The wind had stopped and the echo of the ocean faded out as you escaped. 

I can’t find any answers. I don’t like being tormented. 

[doing-all-write]

the art of flirting on a hover board pt. 4

Ivy runs a successful arts non-profit and Joe tags along when Rami and Lucy go to visit her. But what happens when a simple bet made over a hover board competition gets out of hand?

Pairing: Joe Mazzello x Ivy (OC)

Rating: Rated F for F I N A L L Y 

Warnings: None! 

This is the last part! I hope you guys love it!

Part 1    ~~~     Part 2 ~~~ Part 3

Any comments, notes, love, hate WHATEVER you got for this, let me know!

Reblogs and feedback are much appreciated bc I crave validation!!!!!

Weeks had passed since then.

Rami, Lucy and Joe hung out for the rest of the weekend then went back to their respective apartments on Sunday. Ivy seeing them off with hugs and promises that they would hang out more.

Work kept Ivy consistently busy but she could always rely on Joe to keep her entertained throughout the day or even text her reminders to eat or to take a break and catch a baseball game with him ("But the Yankees suck." "If I had known that was your opinion of the Yankees I would have run you over with that bike when I had the chance.")

Ivy and Lucy met up for a Happy Hour at their favorite bar weekly and Rami would join them occasionally. Whenever he was around he took great pleasure in reminding Ivy that she still had to go on a date with someone of his choosing. 

Every time he brought it up Ivy was tempted to casually say she wouldn't mind going on a date with Joe but always bit her tongue at the last minute and managed to convince Rami she couldn't possibly get away from work but she would soon. 

Sooner was to come the next day.

Ivy walked into the office with both hands full of drinks. It was her turn to pick up coffee for her team and as such, was burdened with glorious caffeine. 

That she was in danger of dropping at any moment. 

"Help...me..." she wheezed as she tried to balance both drink carriers and open the door with her index finger. 

Erin leaped up from her desk and scurried over to open the door, "DO NOT DROP THAT CAFFEINE." 

Ivy staggered to Erin's desk and dropped the drink carriers on them as she slumped against it. 

"I thought I wasn't going to make it. I saw my life flash before my eyes." 

"What did you see?" Erin asked distractedly as she searched for her name on the multitude of drinks before her.

"Memes." Ivy muttered weakly.

Erin laughed as she grabbed her coffee, "I can distribute the rest of these for you. I'll send a message in the group chat."

Ivy clasped Erin's hands in her own, "What would I ever do without you?"

"Oh, probably perish. Now, go. Get to work so I can enjoy my coffee in PEACE before the Jones's bring their twins in and I have to remind them AGAIN that just because they donated money doesn't mean their demon spawn get anything handed to them."

Ivy winced, grabbed her iced coffee and held it up in a silent salute, "Remind me to get you a raise."

Erin waved her off as Ivy ascended the stairs.

Erin craned her neck to make sure Ivy was heading down the hallway before she opened up her messages with Lucy,

Erin: She's on her way to her office now.

Lucy: Perf. Now we wait.

Erin: Haven't we done enough of that?

Lucy: Some might even say too much waiting

Erin chuckled to herself as closed out of her messages on her desktop and took a sip of her coffee. She sat back as she waited, for what she hoped, would be the last time. 

~

Ivy said hi to everyone she passed in the hallway as she checked her phone. She was kind of worried. Usually Joe would have texted her at this point asking her which mug she had chosen for the day (sloths in various yoga poses). 

She checked her messages, checked the signal. Upon seeing both were in perfect order sighed and pushed open the door to her office. 

The computer awoke with a soft bing as Ivy took a sip of coffee. She was thinking about the meetings she had, the work that had to get done, the work that if it got done today would be great but if not wouldn't be the end of the world and the work that could be put off for the next few weeks. 

Ivy's computer screen lit up as she checked her phone again only to feel her stomach drop when no text from Joe was waiting for her. 

She opened her calendar to check out what was going on when she noticed that she had the whole day blocked out. 

When she clicked on the boxes to see what was scheduled they all said things that didn't make sense. 

Yoga at 11:30.

Mani/pedi at 12:30.

Blowout at 2. 

Dinner at 7.

When she saw the dinner at 7 her eyes widened as she shot out of her chair so fast it crashed to the ground as she raced out of her office.  

Her coffee abandoned on her desk to grow cold.

~

"ERIN" 

Erin smiled around her cup as she calmly took a sip of her coffee and turned her phone so Lucy, who she had been FaceTiming, could see Ivy racing down the hall.

"Wow, she's booking it."

"The only other time I've seen her run this fast is when I messaged her to let her know her Harry Styles vinyl had arrived." 

Lucy blinked, "That's...that's the most on brand thing I've ever heard for Ivy."

"Isn't it though?" Erin said as she tilted her head to the side.

Ivy jumped over the last step on the staircase and slid to a stop in front of Erin's desk, panting, "Why...do I...jesus christ..." she muttered as she laid her forehead on Erin's desk as Erin stared in bemusement and Lucy snickered. 

"Why do I have weird ass appointments all day? Appointments that make it seem like I have a DATE?" Ivy lifted her head up on the last word to glare accusingly at Erin and Lucy who both looked way more smug than they had any right to. 

"We knew that you would always have an excuse to not go on that date that Rami and I had to plan for you so we," Lucy nodded at Erin who wiggled her fingers at Ivy, "took the liberty to make sure you had time to go on that date that Rami, and I, have so graciously set up for you."

Ivy's eyes darted between Lucy and Erin as she chewed over Lucy's words, "You also had a say in who Rami picked to be my date this evening?"

"Yes. Don't worry, I didn't want you to suffer THAT much." 

Ivy wracked her brain to come up with a reason for why she couldn't get to any of the appointments, or how to get out of the date but she kept coming up empty or poking holes in her own plan. 

She groaned and let her forehead thump against the desk. 

Lucy yelped and Erin grabbed Ivy's collar to pull her up right, "Are you kidding? Don't do that! You can't bruise yourself before your date!"

~~~

"So, we're meeting at 7?"

"Yeah, man. There's this new Italian place I want to check out with you."

"Rami, oh my god, are you asking me out on a date?" 

Rami chuckled as Lucy shot him a thumbs up from across the couch as Erin and Ivy hung up and promised to keep her updated. 

"Yeah, I guess I am bud."

"This is all happening so fast, I don't even know what to SAY." Joe said as he paced around his apartment. 

"Just say you'll meet me outside of Etna's at 7."

"Yeah, bud, sounds good." Joe cleared his throat and before he could really think about what he was saying asked, "Are Lucy and Ivy coming with us?"

There was a beat then, "No man, it's just going to be us. I hope that's cool. I know I'm not as sexy as Ivy but I could wear something low cut and try-"

"NOPE. That will not be necessary."

"Alright, just thought I'd offer. What? Oh. Lucy just said she still wants me to wear something low cut and for you to wear something that will show off some leg."

"Tell her I have this little black number with a thigh high slit."

Rami's muffled voice relayed Joe's message and he could hear Lucy snort.

"She's very excited to see it."

"Great. I'll see you at 7 bud."

"See ya." 

Joe hung up and heaved a sigh as he opened up his text thread with Ivy. He was tempted to invite Ivy himself but he closed out before he could fully talk himself into doing anything.

~~~

Lucy's hand made contact with Rami's as they high fived. 

"You played your part beautifully babe."

"Thanks, Erin has everything good to go with Ivy, right?"

Lucy nodded, "When I hung up Ivy had made peace with the fact it was happening and was heading out."

"Perfect. And Joe's good to go so now, we can just relax and-"

Lucy whipped her head around with wide eyes, "RELAX? Are you kidding me Malik? I won't be able to SLEEP until I get confirmation that those two are boning down!"

Rami stared at Lucy with soft eyes. 

"What?"

"Did you say the same thing to your friends before we started dating?"

"As a matter of fact I did."

Rami sighed and nudged her thigh with his foot, "And I didn't think I could love you any more than I already do."

~~~

Ivy tugged the hemline down on the dress Erin had helped her pick out. She thanked the stars that the fabric was black and prayed to whatever deity was in charge of sweat glands to help hers not be so overactive. 

The embroidered flowers running down the front were a false cheerfulness she did not feel about this date. Even with Lucy's help she was sure Rami had picked some terrible guy or worse, his twin brother as a joke. 

The heels of her sandals slapped on the pavement as she crested the hill to get to Etna's. She stopped dead in her tracks causing a small pile up of humans behind her as she stared at the last person she expected to see outside of Etna's.

Joe. 

Standing outside of Etna's.

The place that Lucy and Rami had planned for her to have her date at. 

All of a sudden her pulse quickened as she contemplated just what this meant for her. 

Was Joe her date? 

Did Rami and Lucy really come through for her this one time? 

She took a few deep breathes and without realizing it, was in front of Joe,

"Hi."

Joe looked up from his phone to grunt back a hi then looked back down at his phone only to do a comical double take as he fully took in who was standing in front of him.

"Hi, yourself." He breathed out as he slid his phone into his pocket.

Ivy's hair was in soft waves that increased his desire to thread his fingers through her hair. She looked radiant. The soft smile that broke across her face as she contemplated Joe made his eyes go soft.

"I, uh, I like your sweater." she said as she fiddled with the bag she was holding. 

"Huh? Oh, thanks." Joe smiled as he ran a hand through his hair. 

"So, what are you doing here?"

Joe looked over Ivy's shoulder, "Well, Rami said to meet him here for a date so, here I am."

"Huh, funny. Lucy and Erin cashed in on that bet we lost and planned a date for me today here too..."

Her eyes got wide and locked onto Joe's as the sentence faded from her mouth and Joe's eyes widened as the realization of the hoops and scamming that had to go into this plan washed over them like a wave. 

"I know I should be upset but I'm actually really proud of them for organizing this. I mean, the amount of time and effort it took is...really impressive." Ivy said begrudgingly as she crossed her arms.

The dazed look on Joe's face was almost comical, "Yeah, I-wow. I'm impressed." He looked down at Ivy, "So, wait. Am I...your date?" 

"That's what it's looking like, Ace." Ivy fidgeted with her purse as she became entranced with the ground, "Are you...disappointed?"

Joe's eyes grew wide as he placed a hand on Ivy's shoulder,"What? No! God. Ivy. no. Not at all. I'm just happy you weren't stuck with some loser."

Ivy smiled, "Me too. Though I think I did get stuck with an even bigger loser." 

Joe rolled his eyes, "Alright, funny guy, let's go eat some food."

Ivy giggled as Joe reached around her and opened the door for her. She stepped into the dim room and waited for her date to come in as well. 

~~~

"Okay but you have to admit, Abbey Road is one of the most iconic albums in history!" Joe spluttered as the ice cream cone he was holding was in very real danger of toppling as he moved his arms around in incredulity. 

"Yeah, in terms of album cover art. Not so much in terms of music. That's what Sgt. Pepper is for." Ivy explained calmly as she excavated a large piece of chocolate from her own ice cream with her spoon and popped it into her mouth. 

"Well, you're wrong, but that's fine. You just sit there in your wrongness and be wrong." Joe shrugged as he took a lick of his own cone and admired how the setting sun played up the colors of Ivy's hair. 

Ivy hummed as they continued walked back to her apartment. She had protested, saying she didn't want Joe to walk all that way but even her protests sounded weak to her ears.

"Well, if I'm so wrong what's your favorite Beatles album?" Joe bumped his hip against Ivy, breaking her out of her thoughts. 

Ivy brought another spoonful of ice cream up to her lips (the pornographic thoughts Joe had had as he watched her take the spoon out of her mouth was criminal) and contemplated Joe's question,

She swallowed, "Revolver."

"WHAT? You just said Sgt. Pepper was their most iconic!" Joe cried. 

Ivy shrugged, "Yeah, it is. But you asked what my favorite Beatles album is and it's Revolver. Those are two very different questions to be asking a person."

Joe stared at her incredulously and shook his head, "Well, at least we agree on that." 

"Your favorite album is Revolver too?" 

Joe nodded in agreement as he took a particularly over the top lick of his ice cream and Ivy swallowed loudly wondering what else he could do with that tongue. 

She was shaken from her thoughts as she realized they had reached her apartment. She looked up and then back at Joe, "You know, I do have all of the Beatles records in my apartment. We should probably listen to them and settle this once and for all."

Joe nodded, "I think you're absolutely correct." 

It was the only time Joe had thrown out ice cream and not been upset about how wasteful it was as he scurried behind Ivy to follow her to her apartment. 

~~~

Ivy wracked her brain as she desperately tried to remember if everything was clean, or at the very least, not a disaster. She cracked the door a little and did a sweep with her eyes before deeming it acceptable and waving Joe into her home. 

Joe walked in and was struck with how much this place screamed of Ivy. Concert posters took up all of the wall space. Her collection of records were kept in milk cartons lined up against the wall. Books were crammed into a book shelf that had started sagging under the weight of all the stories, so piles of books littered the room. The various lamps she was turning on lent a soft light to the whole place and made it feel warm and cozy. 

Ivy lit a candle as she studied Joe taking it all in. "If you want, you can get out which Beatles record we should start with. They're organized by band name."

"Of course they are." 

"Just because I like things organized..." she trailed off as she set the candle down and bent down to take her shoes off.

Joe snickered as he bent down to flip through her records. He was shocked by Ivy's extensive collection. He felt he had had a solid idea of what to expect and what music Ivy enjoyed, then he'd flip to the next record and it would be a band that came out of left field.

Classic rock, jazz, pop, indie, 80's synth bands. Bands and albums he had heard of and others he had never heard of till just now. He finally found Revolver and was getting ready to pop it on the turntable when Ivy inhaled sharply. 

He looked over his shoulder at her, "What?"

Ivy was ramrod straight, hands clenched into fists as an internal conflict played across her face, she finally breathed out and walked to Joe, "Sorry, it's just. Can I do it? I have a very specific way that I treat my records and it makes me nervous when other people touch them."

Joe stared at Ivy for a beat, then blinked, "You're the strangest girl I've ever met." 

Ivy reached her hands out to gently pry the record from his hands, "Thanks. Now give me my Beatles album before you muck it up."

Joe held his hands up in easy surrender as he watched her carefully extract it from its sleeve and wipe it down, then carefully set it on the turntable. He admired the way that she handled things. Especially music. She was so passionate about it. All aspects of music. She respected it and she had imparted her many "rules" she had about music to Joe over the course of their date. 

She hated being on her phone during a concert, ("They spent so much time preparing for it! It's like any other theatre performance!") to how she handled her records to how she organized her playlists. He was endeared by how much she cared. 

As the opening notes of Taxman eked through the speakers, Ivy tapped her foot to the beat then turned to find her face was in line with Joe's chest. She yipped, "Gah! I didn't know you were that close."

"Sorry, I can move away-" Joe was cut off as Ivy's hand snapped out and grabbed his hand, "It's okay. I-I don't mind you being close." She mumbled. 

Joe's eyebrow quirked up, "Yeah? How about this close?" 

He took another step towards her. 

Ivy felt her breath hitch, "That's fine."

"How about now?" He took another step and tilted her chin up as he looked down at her.

She swallowed thickly as she nodded. 

He leaned down so when he spoke his next words, his lips brushed against hers with every other syllable. 

"How about now?" 

Ivy flung her arms around his neck and pulled Joe down into a kiss that had been building up for far too long. She ran her hands through the short hairs at the base of his neck, causing a small moan to erupt from him.

Joe felt Ivy's lips curl up into a smile as he moaned and that almost caused him to become completely undone. His arms wound tighter around her waist as he deepened the kiss.

Ivy felt the breath leaving her lungs as he leaned into her even more, causing her to stand on her tip toes and kiss him back even harder. 

As she tried to get on Joe's level her knees buckled ("I still can't believe your knees buckled. What are you? A heroine in a Jane Austen novel?" "I'm going to smother you with this pillow, is THAT something a Jane Austen heroine does?") which caused her to fall back and Joe's lips to leave hers. 

Heavy breathing filled the silence as Eleanor Rigby started up telling her tale of rice and sadness. 

"Okay, so, uhm, that was...yeah. Wow." Ivy said as she blinked, trying to process what had just happened.

"I couldn't have said it better myself." Joe chuckled as he reached out to brush a piece of Ivy's hair out of her face and saw her eyes soften. He tucked away that piece of knowledge for later. 

"So, what now?"

Ivy smirked, "This" and leaned up to press a deeper kiss to Joe's lips who returned it with equal fervor.

In between kissing Ivy's (beautiful, perfect, he could write sonnets about them) lips, he muttered, "While I love this, should we maybe go somewhere...else?"

Ivy smirked against Joe's lips, "Joseph, are you asking me to show you my room?"

Joe pulled back immediately with wide eyes, grasping at her forearms, "I mean-if you don't want to I totally get that. I'm so sorry I thought-I just- I mean, we KISSED, so, and, I just, I mean, I've wanted to do that since I laid eyes on you and-"

She cut him off with another kiss.

"I'm giving you shit, c'mon. If we don't get to my room now I'm about to do things on my couch that should never be done on a couch outside of porn."

Joe had never run so fast in his life. 

[gallifreyanlibertea]

Hi ^^ i have a usuk request where arthur and alfred are boyfriends but for some reason alfred never go to arthur home, and that reason is because arthur dont want for his 3 protective older brothers, but his mother find arthur has a boyfriend and tell everybody, and she wants that arthur invite to him for a dinner family for to meet him (the rest i leave to you :D ) sorry for my bad english

Sorry!! I found this very hard to write for some reason? I’m not sure why, so I opted for an easy way out bc ily and I wanted to write this for you, so I hope this was something like you imagined it to be! 

I’m also trying out a new style so sorry if it seems like a big chunk of MESS. 

Of course, the one he had broken happened to be Allistair Kirkland’s favorite mug.

He remembered it like it was yesterday, the phrase being limited to just that, a phrase, because it happened only half an hour ago. Being surrounded by the harpies that were Arthur’s brothers; three, that with their position seated in a specific order, had a comical coincidence of each of their heads having hair redder than the one that sat to the left of them.

Allistair, hair bright red; Patrick, hair almost orangey; William, strawberry blond.

That, of course, was as far as the comedy had gone that evening because Alfred Jones was positively shaking.

Shaking because damn him for assuming he wouldn’t be nervous to meet his boyfriend’s family! His boyfriend’s family! For the first time! It was something he had begged and pleaded Arthur to let him do, only to receive in response something along the lines of- “You wouldn’t want to, love!”

He should’ve listened- along with the fact that he was quite destructive when he felt out of place, as he was sure to feel in a room full of people with funny accents and funnier manners that mirrored the ones in his boyfriend he found so charmingly different.

They weren’t so charming then. Thick, menacingly dark brows. That boiling aura of passive-aggressiveness. Alfred had been nervous to approach Arthur the first time they had met, fingers twitching, dropping anything and everything in his hands- which had then included the books he needed for fourth period- letting the most atrocious things tumble out of his lips.

“Arthur Kirkland, was it? I buy a lot of Kirkland brand products!”

And now he’d done it again. He’d fucked up, he’d dropped things, said things, and now, as he stood on the porch of Arthur’s doorstep, gazing down at his boyfriend who seemed to be avoiding eye contact, he knew today was the day Arthur Kirkland would finally break up with him.

Needless to say, he’d been expecting it for some time.

“Arthur, babe-?”

Arthur glanced up with an expression all too familiar. One that he would put on when he pretended things were okay, to keep Alfred from having to comfort him. “Sorry, you were saying something?”

“I’m sorry to leave you getting back to fixing that whole mess up.”

“It’s alright.”

Alfred leaned in for a quick peck onto those slightly frowning lips. It was kissing a brick wall, reaching out to the embrace of a ghost, to put it dramatically. To put it simply, Arthur was mad. He had to be, with the way Alfred had handled that night.

He was never meant to meet the Kirklands. He’d never really thought about it before. Although Arthur was, at this point in their month-long relationship, a gem to Alfred and his parents, Arthur made no move to include Alfred in his family.

And Alfred didn’t mind. There could be a million reasons for it, perhaps they weren’t as accepting of Arthur’s sexuality? Perhaps Arthur wasn’t allowed to date? Whatever it was, Alfred had been fine with it. He had let Arthur change the topic every time family came up between them, as long as it kept Arthur happy.

Yet one stupid post later- one stupid picture of the two of them, with Alfred pressing a kiss onto a scowling Arthur’s cheek, posted onto a social media app, and the next day, Arthur had been positively livid.

Because- “My mum’s friend’s friend’s friend’s son saw it, and now she knows, and now she wants to meet you, Alfred! Doomed! Oh god, we’re doomed!”

Alfred took a hesitant step down from Arthur’s porch, turning to let Arthur’s name fall from his lips at the same moment Arthur had decided to call for him, hand outstretched.

“Alfred-”

“Yes?” Was Alfred’s almost immediate response.

“I’m sorry about tonight.” Arthur crossed his arms and stepped down to Alfred’s level. “But I can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Arthur had warned him. Repeatedly. “Alfred, my family is atrocious, you do not want to meet them!” But if Alfred was anything, he was a family guy, and Arthur knew that.

Which is why he’d let Alfred come over for dinner in the first place, along with the fact that Mrs. Kirkland had apparently made a fuss about inviting him.

“Would you like some casserole?” She’d said to him, only two hours ago, the first dish she’d brought to the table. A sweet woman. “Oh! Oh dear, you aren’t vegetarian, are you? It completely escaped my mind to ask, oh, I’m so dreadfully sorry, dear-”

“No, it’s fine, Mrs. Kirkland, I eat meat.” Alfred had replied with a beaming smile. He’d then turned to Arthur with a fond sigh. This isn’t so bad.

Arthur had looked mildly in pain.

Of course, it wasn’t so bad. It hadn’t been until Mrs. Kirkland had parted her lips, tilting her head up to call for her boys, three of which had skittered down the stairs, green eyes burning holes into the new shirt Alfred had bought for the dinner.

“The typical big-brother talk then, huh, babe? I can handle it.” He had whispered with a laugh and Arthur had chewed his lip.

At least now Alfred knew why.

“Your brothers hate me,” Alfred said with a wince and Arthur shuffled his feet.

“They hate everyone I date. Always find something wrong with them.”

And that was where the problem lied.

Because Arthur had said to him a while back, after launching into that self-pitied monologue centered around doom- ”Dinners with my family, they’re the reason I’ve never had many long relationships, Alfred.” 

It could only mean that nights like these were the nights Arthur decided to date or not to date, because who in their right mind would date someone their family so obviously despised?

Alfred had definitely failed that test.

Hell, his nervous, shaking fingers broke half the things he’d touched. He’d managed to elicit a sneer to every question he’d answered-

“A job, no, I don’t have one… Um, no, I don’t get straight A’s…”

And his personal favorite. “Haha, I guess I’m a virgin. That depends on your definition, though.”

Even sweet Mrs. Kirkland had made a face at that one.

“Does this change things, Arthur?” And Arthur looked up at him so fast Alfred was dizzy. Those big green eyes bore into his, and he took another step forward.

“It does, though, doesn’t it?”

Alfred somehow understood.

Arthur was proud. He wanted perfection, he wanted to be- as Alfred would jokingly tell him when the occasion arose- envied.

With a clumsy, dud of a boyfriend like Alfred, one that his family found less than ideal? Alfred could see it coming. A quick break before anything got too serious.

So he didn’t understand why Arthur let his forehead rest on Alfred’s chest, hands fisting the fabric of his shirt.

“Alfred Jones, you are the biggest idiot I’ve ever dated in my entire life.”

“What?”

“You should’ve seen the looks on their faces, my brothers-” A small chuckle and Arthur stretched onto his toes to press a hesitant kiss on Alfred’s jaw. “You’re an idiot.”

“Is this how you normally break up with people?” Alfred said with a small smile and Arthur peeled away, brows drawn together in panic.

“This is us breaking up?”

“Did you see the damage in there?”

The look on Mrs. Kirkland’s face as she swept up the shattered remnants of at least two plates. The look on William’s face when Alfred had unwittingly served a compliment that turned out to be backhanded. The look on Patrick’s face when Alfred had toyed with his foot under the table rather than Arthur’s.

Failed.

“This wasn’t a test,” Arthur said, stepping away to shove his hands in his pockets. “Dinners like these are when boyfriends get spooked by my family, and almost always leave.”

Arthur glanced up to ask the question. “So you’re leaving?”

Alfred loved family.

He loved being a part of something greater, he loved becoming integrated into his boyfriends’ lives when the time came- having a second mother to wrap him in a warm embrace, second brothers, a home, which was indeed greater than a house, and what was one when you could have two?

What was his when he could have Arthur’s as well? To watch as he slowly but surely became a part of his boyfriend’s life because yes, he was greedy, and it put a warm feeling in his fingers and toes that he found himself craving. Alfred loved family.

And the thought of what happened tonight hurt, but not as much as the thought of leaving. “No.” was what Alfred said in response.

Outstretched arms, an action to which Arthur came cocooning right into Alfred’s chest.

“God, your brothers hate me.”

“They’ll come to love your bumbling self like I do.”

Alfred let Arthur burrow into his shirt, wrapping his arms around his smaller boyfriend’s frame as he buried his nose into that shampoo-scented, straw-blond hair.

A small shift in position to steal a kiss from Alfred’s lips. “Well… not quite like I do.”